#and when Thor dragged himself to Loki's corpse to hold him

[galaxythreads]

it's just. it's the way that loki drops the space stone and doesn't even care what happens to it. It's just an after thought to him. Loki has been chasing that block of glass since the Attack on New York and when it comes down to it, he doesn't even hesitate. It's the way that he tackles Thor, like there is nothing more important in the universe to him. it's the WAY that he grabs Thor, pulling Thor down on top of HIM so Thor doesn't have to hit the metal of the ship and aggravate his injuries. It's the way that Loki and Hulk coordinated SOLEY to rescue thor. How Hulk BARRELS into Thanos' ARM not his back, not his side, his ARM so that way Thanos will be forced to release Thor instinctively.

It's how Thor reaches for Loki as Loki grabs him, like Thor intended to GRAB HIM FIRST, EVEN THOUGH THANOS IS STILL HOLDING HIM. It's how Thor immediately starts to collapse once Thanos lets go of him and Loki is there to catch him.

[whackk-kermitt]

It’s Not True

Tropes: Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: “Death” of character, Mentuons of Trauma/Abuse, Violent Threats

Summary: The reader returns to Asgard, despitetheir banishment, after hearing the news of Loki’s death.

NOT PROOFREAD

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The bright colors and shining gold of the city felt wrong. People in the streets, smiling, and cheering, were a stab in the gut. It felt like an insult to be this merry after such a tragedy.

[y/n], adorned with a dark cloak, watched the passing faces as they stepped deeper through the avenues of busy Asgard. The cloak was a way of hiding their identity, knowing they'd be prosecuted for returning here after having been banished. It was also the only thing left to cherish from the recently departed.

The cloak had been his, though it had lost the scent of him long ago. A parting gift when they were dragged away to the Bifrost.

Wearing it made [y/n] feel as though Loki was still holding them close, like he did before.

Before everything went to shit and they were separated by Odin's wrath.

[y/n] looked up at a golden statue being built in the middle of the Plaza. The face of it haunts them. Turning away to ignore the burning twist in their heart they strolled along.

The lavish tribute was as pathetic as Odin in their eyes.

They made their way through the crowds and toward the palace.

It had been nearly three years since they'd seen him, held him, even spoke. Though not a day passed where they doubted the love they held for him. Even now.

The guards at the door garnished with flowers and gifts along the walls, only gave them a look as they pushed through. All the gifts that played outside were enough for them to know he was here.

And there he was.

Laid out in a space on a shining pedestal, his body enclosed in a shimmering force field to protect it from the outside.

All motivation to keep walking drained only a yard away from the corpse. Body and hands began trembling and they finally let out the tears they refused to let go.

Some time had passed since hearing the news from Thor himself on Midgard, their prison. They hadn't believed a single word of it. Refusal to accept that Loki was truly gone until they saw him with their own eyes.

But there he was. Decomposing.

On display like a wretched trophy of Asgard's victory.

The room was empty of gifts and offerings, the only few having been laid outside. Nobody cared enough to come in and see him for themselves.

Their cries echoed off the walls and ran back at them.

Loki had promised to find a away for them to be together again, “Do you trust me, love?” He had said. “I’ll figure something out, just wait for me.”

And wait they did- for three years. Patiently waited. For a letter, a massage, Loki to appear at their door, something, anything. Wait and wait, and wait, for nothing. For agony and heartbreak.

“[y/n],” An all too familiar voice called. Though it was foreign to them at the same time; for it was gentle- kinder than they remembered.

“Odin.” [y/n] seethed, refusing to face him. Hand coming up to press against the magic that separates them from Loki.

“You got the message I sent, yes?” He asked heitently.

“I want nothing from you.”

Their back still turned to the All-Father, they admired for one last time the beauty that was their first true love.

“If you did not get my message, that makes this difficult.” [y/n] heard his steps drawing closer. “I suppose it's time to explai-”

“Another word and I'll kill you!” All the anger and spite held back over the years boiling over and out. All the thoughts, insults, and unsavory opinions held back for Loki’s sake, come to mind. But Loki isn't here anymore. 

“[y/n],”

“You think you could embrace an innocent child, raise him on misery, point out every mistake- every flaw,” Their words stuttered out between clenched teeth. “Paint his story, his living memory, as an image of an untrustworthy monster-”

“Let me-”

“Then kill him!” [y/n] turned to the elderly man, eyes bleeding red in sorrow. “Put up a glimmering statue and praise his death? Do all that and expect me to listen to a word you have to say to me?”

Odin looked on at her with a horror in his eyes, guilt and shame took root in his chest.

“You’ve killed me as well Odin. I'd slit your throughout but it is not my place. Ragnarok is coming to Asgard, you have made sure that there is nothing here worth saving.”

The was silence between the two. No words, just anger and regret.

A glow of green caught their eye, turning to see the corpse vanich in an instant.

“Wh-” They breathed and uneven breath, staring at the empty coffin.

“I’m so sorry, my love.”

That voice.

Slowly turning their head to look into the most captivating blue eyes they'd ever seen. Loki.

“I thought you'd come after getting my message. I explained everything in it, I thought you-” He hesitated for a moment taking a cautious step forward. “I never mend to deceive you. That illusion was meant for someone else. Not you never you.”

“It's not true,” Their voice was broken. “Its fake, you're here?”

Loki sighed tear threatening escape watching his lover's lip quiver in distress.

“I'm here.” He opened his arms, an empty pace that was quickly filled by a trembling companion.

Their cries of relief as they felt his heart beating rang ing his ears. Petting their head and holing them close he shushed and soothed their sorrows as best he could.

“I'm here, I'm here love.” He mumbled in their ear. “I'm sorry you waited so long.”

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Got sleepy, gave up. Goodnight, happy Halloween!

•Kermitts Masterlist•

[loki-hargreeves]

Loki x Reader - The Ghost of You

Warnings: death, mentions of blood, angst, ghost stuff

Word Count: 2,7K

Summary: Loki has been miserable since you passed away. You can see him at all time, but he can’t see or hear you. Nevertheless, you try to reach out to him from the other side, hoping one day he can notice you again. He speaks to you, hoping you’re there when he needs you the most.

Author’s Note: This one is for all the angst junkies out there! 💚 Honestly, this was inspired a lot by TUA. But the idea came to me when I was listening to ‘the lonely’ by Christina Perri.

YOUR POV

Death had come to you so incredibly fast. 

One moment you had been standing by Loki’s side in battle, the next you were not. 

The first thing you remembered was the light. Nothing you had ever seen before compared to the brightness that had forced you to shut your eyes. It felt like it had swallowed you whole, ripped you out of your body and then everything went numb. For a while, nothing mattered. The blood in your veins stilled, the noises around you disappeared and you didn’t even breathe. The enemies disappeared from around you. For a moment, you felt safe.

Loki!

You remembered him, and all the feelings came crashing back to your heart. The pain, the worry, the love, everything.

When the light faded away from your surroundings, you were back at the battle scene. The numerous enemies were slain and it was quiet. The silence and the gnarly smell of blood lingering in the air was eerie. It made your guts twist in an odd way.

There you were, in Loki’s arms. But you were also standing right there only a few feet away. 

Loki knelt on the frozen ground with your body in his trembling arms. The life had vanished from your eyes, leaving them cold and empty, staring into the sky. For a while, you stood there still. Shock turned you into stone. Despite not having a physical body, you felt like you couldn’t move at all.

How was Loki holding your bloody corpse, crying his eyes out as his brother and friends watched if you were right there?

“Loki?” You called out his name, surprised you found your voice. It felt like you had tears in your throat, sobs trying to rip away from you, but it didn’t sound it. Your voice was light, it echoed.

No one heard you.

It took all the courage you had in your body to walk closer, and closer, and closer. Suddenly, you fell on your knees, right in front of Loki. He was looking at you, the wrong you. The pain on his face broke your heart. He looked terrified in a way you had never seen him before. His usually so graceful hands held onto your body tightly, turning his knuckles white and he was covered in blood; your blood.

“Loki!” You screamed at him, hoping that he’d snap out of it.

Yet it seemed like you weren���t even there.  

Thor put his hand on Loki’s shoulder. Even the god of thunder had tears in his eyes. “Loki, stop,” Thor told him sadly.

It made Loki snap his head aggressively. He looked at Thor with rage in his teary eyes. 

“Stop? You’re telling me to stop! She could die and it’s all on us!” Loki shrieked loudly, his voice betraying him as fresh tears rolled down his face. 

Sif and Fandral shared concerned glances. They didn’t dare say anything. Even they were upset by this tragedy, but no one wanted to say it out loud yet. 

Thor looked like he regretted what he said next, “She’s gone, brother.”

Shivers ran down your spine, which felt like daggers, sinking into your flesh and bone. You felt sick, but nothing happened. You just stared at your corpse in horror, not being able to think of anything else anymore.

You were dead.

That’s why they looked right through you.

Loki wanted to get up, to slap some sense into Thor’s thick skull. Another part of him wanted to keep using his healing magic on your wounds, to revive you and see life in your eyes again. Although Loki didn’t want to accept the truth, he wasn’t a fool.

As he looked at your bloody face, held it and felt the warmth beneath your skin fade away from under his touch, he knew it. 

You were gone, ripped away from life too soon. 

But you weren’t as far away as he feared.

“Loki,” You cried now, pleading to the gods in Valhalla that they would make that nightmare stop. This couldn’t be real!

Why were you not with your forefathers and mothers? Why were you stuck watching the gruesome reality before your eyes? This wasn’t supposed to happen!

With shaking hands, you tried to touch your body. It was far fetched, but you thought that maybe, just maybe you could return into it. That hope was crushed when nothing really happened. Your hand went right through your body, and you couldn’t even feel anything. At that moment, you noticed you couldn’t feel anything else either. Not the icy ground beneath your knees, nor the wounds that had caused your early demise. It was like you didn’t even exist.

You were a ghost.

                 For some reason, your soul didn’t leave Loki’s side. After your funeral, your body had been burned. Odin himself had held a speech since you had been his son’s wife. He, like everyone else, assumed you had gone to Valhalla. You hadn’t, which you couldn’t understand why. What had you done to deserve such a cruel fate? You were stuck watching how everyone you ever cared about mourned you when you were right by their side. The worst part was when they didn’t hear you, nor react to your touch. Would it be like this forever?

Seeing Loki was the hardest part. If you tried to go too far away, it seemed like the world stopped. An invisible wall kept you from walking too far away, which meant you were always around him. You were always there to see him cry himself to sleep as he missed you. It was like torture. 

Time passed slowly. Every minute of your existence was agony, and it was no other for Loki. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but the nights were getting longer and colder. 

Thor was being prepared for his new role as king. Although he had yet to be crowned, be certainly behaved like it had already happened, and it didn’t ease Loki’s suffering at all. You began to notice how bitter he had grown - understandably so. Everyone overlooked him completely, but you, which he didn’t know of. To Loki, it seemed like he was all alone. He felt cursed. 

When Thor’s coronation was ruined, he had dragged himself and his friends to Jotunheim, you too unbeknownst to him. 

It had been scary, to say the least. Seeing them all in battle when you couldn’t help them. Jotunheim was dark and it looked a wreck. It was evidence of something terrible that had happened there before. The frost giants didn’t look pleased to see the Asgardians. Loki looked troubled when Thor started a fight. He thought of you. Last time he had fought, you died. 

It took a turn to the worse when a Jotun grabbed his wrist. Instead of getting a nasty frostbite, Loki had watched his hand turn blue just like a frost giant’s. It was like a punch in the gut for him. How was that possible?

Everything that happened next was all a chaotic mess. Odin had shown up to bring them back home. Thor had been banished to Midgard and everyone turned against Loki.

                    Finally, there was some silence.

Loki was in his quarters that not too long he had shared with you. It was dark and he hadn’t bothered to turn on any lights, or set fire to the fireplace. He enjoyed the soft moonlight that washed the space blue. Despite how much time had passed, the room still smelled sweet like you. 

“I wish you were still here,” Loki spoke to you, not expecting to be heard. 

“I’m right here by your side,” You answered, although he couldn’t hear you. The two of you sat on your bed together, but it only sunk underneath his weight. You were only a sentient being in thin air with an illusion of a body. Nevertheless, you felt real with the race of your heart and the pain that crushed you every day. 

Loki began to tear up as he thought of everything that had happened since he lost you. It felt like he too was stuck in a nightmare that had been forged in Hell itself. 

You tried to hold his hand like you always did before when you comforted him. Your touch was nonexistent. Reaching out to him was something you still did. The thought of not trying to hold him was harsh. 

Oh, how you wished you could see his face just once more, and he could look right back at you. Just once, so you could say goodbye and let him know you were there. That you could say that everything would be alright. 

Loki stood up all of a sudden, walking closer to the window so he could look at the view. At night, Asgard looked so calm. He knew better than that. Loki wondered how much of it was all built on lies. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Loki’s lips were quivering now. He thought he was all alone, yet he struggled to display the feelings that were tormenting him. “You’re gone, Thor is gone - I didn’t mean for this to happen!” Loki turned around as if he expected you to be right there. When he didn’t see a familiar face, his heart sunk to his stomach. “I don’t know what to do. It would be so much easier if you were here.”

Tears were rolling down his face now, but he kept his composure - for now. You could only watch as he tried to choke his sobs that were begging to be cried out loud. Trying to drown that was agonizing to him, but Loki didn’t want to feel weak. 

There was a burning desire within you to take care of Loki. You loved him to death, and beyond. You had always loved him and not being able to make sure he was alright was awful. It didn’t mean you would stop trying. For as long as you were chained together side by side, you would try. One day, it could work. 

“It’s going to be just fine, Loki,” You wished deeply for it to be true. Surely, there would be light at the end of the tunnel. At least for him. Loki had so much life ahead of him.

You stood right in front of him now, eyes never leaving his. Sometimes you tried to stand in a way that it seemed like he was looking into your eyes, just to feel something again. 

“I just wish that you knew how sorry I am,” Loki tilted his head, breaking the illusion of it all being real when he no longer faced you. “What am I doing, mumbling by myself?” He chuckled sadly, feeling like he was losing it. Honestly, he didn’t know what he was supposed to do anymore. Was it that crazy to speak to nothing, pretending that you were still there?

Watching him like that was incredibly difficult. He was suffering all alone and no one was there to hold him or guide him through it all. Loki thought he was losing it, but little did he know you heard every word he said. You wanted to scream the words at him, even when it felt like buckets of ice water in your lungs, burning you. You were so loud, but he didn’t notice. Surely, you could’ve shrieked right into his ears without getting a reaction. 

“If you’re here, my love,” He choked on his words. Loki had to be quiet so he wouldn’t lose the grip he had on himself. His hand was slipping as more tears decorated his face. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” You wanted to reassure him. Loki couldn’t blame himself for your death. It had been a tragic battle death. It happened! But it was out of his control. 

“Loki,” You cried his name now, feeling awful as you could just watch him break down. “You can’t blame yourself!”

Loki’s legs betrayed him and he had to sit down on the hard floor. His hands tangled in his dark locks and he closed his eyes, trying to stay calm. It felt like his entire world was spinning around him. He missed you so much that it made him sick to his stomach.

When you sat down beside him again, you wrapped your arms around his shaking body. Please don’t blame yourself, you thought. It wasn’t fair. 

“I’m sorry,” Loki repeated his apology. 

His words felt like knives in your heart. There was nothing you could’ve done to change his mind about it. You could only hold him and hope that miraculously it would make him feel better. 

For a moment, there was silence. Except for Loki’s sniffles and deep breaths, it was almost peaceful. When you were quiet, it was easier to pretend you were a normal couple again. You were there together, simply enjoying each others’ presences. There wasn’t a dimension separating your souls. 

“I need to go down there,” Loki broke the silence. How much time had passed? 

“What?” You instinctively asked him. 

“The ice casket,” Loki thought out loud. He knew that it was the source of the Jotuns power. If he held it, would his skin turn blue again? Did the frost giant curse him, or were there deep secrets that were now coming to light? Although he was petrified, he knew he had to find out the truth. Soon, not quite yet. His eyes were glossy and red from crying, and for whatever reason, he felt comfortable on the floor. Perhaps he was picturing it, but he felt like he was close to you. 

Loki tilted his head, looking to his left where you sat. “I can’t stop talking to you, Y/N. Sometimes it feels like you’re still here,” He admitted quietly. Speaking was hard for him. You could tell when fresh tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. Discussing things made everything real. 

“I’ve never left,” You whispered sadly.

Of course he didn’t know that, but it was easy to pretend. To pretend his life wasn’t falling apart, like you were safe and sound.

“I love you,” Loki admitted after a while. It had been a long time since he had said it. The last time he could bring himself to say that was on your funeral day, when he watched your body turn to glimmers of magic. He loved you with all his heart and it would never change. 

Those three words were bittersweet. They made you feel cherished and happy, but they were also a reminder that you were both stuck in a cruel reality, forced to miss each other when you were so close.

“I love you too,” You whispered gently. Would he ever be able to hear you again? Was there magic he could learn? You couldn’t help but wonder. For now, it seemed hopeless.

You rested your head at the top of his shoulder, feeling like you were crying but there was no way to tell when you had no physical tears to shred. There was only heartache and misery. 

The moment you two unknowingly shared ended too soon. Just as the silence grew comfortable again, Loki wiped his face and stood up. He hesitated before walking to the door. 

“I have to do this,” He made up his mind. Nothing could stop him now, Loki had to find out the truth. Loki didn’t consider himself a hero as he had failed to save you. Even if he was the monster parents told their children about at night, would it really matter? Loki didn’t think so anymore. You weren’t there to witness him like that, he thought. 

Just like that, he opened the door, making his way to Odin’s vault to dig deeper into his past. You were right there with him, with every step of the way. 

And you couldn’t do anything at all to help him. Not even when he turned to his true self and he looked like he had seen a ghost. Not even when Odin found him like that and instead of being a comforting father, he told Loki the truth in the worst way. Just as Loki learned he had been taken as a child, that Laufey was his true father, Odin fell into Odinsleep, abandoning Loki.

Once again, Loki was all alone with the weight of the nine realms on his shoulders. 

You were just a ghost. To watch Loki crumble to pieces was worse than death itself. 

A part of you couldn’t help but wonder, was this what Hell was like?

A/N: It feels like forever since I’ve written Loki angst. I hope you liked it! If you did, I would love to hear your feedback 🥺

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Loki taglist: @yuna-belikova @ornella0910 @castiels-majestic-wings @lucywrites02

[colifower]

The Throne

Hey guys, This is my submission to @worstloki​ ‘s Secret Santa for @darkalinas Hope you’ll like it

Warnings: mentions of death/fake death, mild language.

Also on my AO3

         The halls were emptier than he remembered. Not a day had passed and no mourning signs were at sight. The aftermath of the battle was odd. Few injured, most of them dead or missing in the depths of another realm. However, the floors were immaculate if only missing a few chunks of marble.

         What Loki was about to do was foolish and knew it. But he also wouldn’t forgive himself if he didn’t try, he needed answers. He flickered his hand and his illusion opened the door. Loki had only taking a glimpse of one the guard sent to retrieve his body, so he had to improvise. His thoughts went to the one that had told him of his not-mother’s death. He was part of the royal guard; he would have easily died in battle with the dark elves, although he had never went back to check on him.

         The illusion entered graciously the throne room and bowed politely while Loki silently walked behind the man kneeling besides the throne.

         “Forgive me, my liege. I’ve returned form the Dark World with news.”

         “Thor?” asked Odin, without any sign of sentiment in his tone.

         “There was no sign of Thor, or the weapon, but…”

         “What?” said the king, turning his head around.

         “We found a body”

         “Loki…” he lowered his sight. Loki said nothing but couldn’t help to smirk slightly.

         “Loki!” said Odin suddenly, turning around as if he had expected him to be there. “You little shit! I…”

         Smack! Loki didn’t know what to do, so he pulled a frying pan out of his dimensional pocket and smacked Odin square in the face. The Allfather fell ungracefully to the floor.

         “Fuckfuckfuckfuck!” murmured Loki. He stared at the… corpse? Unconscious body? At this point the distinction wasn’t important. Specially after hearing what sounded like his brother’s footsteps coming towards him.

         He didn’t have enough time to think of a better plan, so he grabbed Odin’s feet and tossed him behind the throne while he panicked. “That’ll have to do” he said as he threw the pan behind him. His brother slammed the door open covering the noise the pan made hitting the floor (he was lucky, but not lucky enough to have laid another hit on his not-father’s face).

         Thor kneeled and waited.

         “You once said there would never be a wiser king than me” stated Loki and then paused for dramatic effect. “You were wrong. The alignment has brought all the realms together. Every one of them saw you offer your life to save them. What can Asgard offer its new King in return?

         “My life” Loki raised his eyebrows. Was he recognising that he was to be executed for committing treason and various war crimes? For real? “Father, I cannot be King of Asgard. I will protect Asgard and all the realms with my last and every breath, but I cannot do so from that chair. Loki, for all his grave imbalance, understood rule as I know I never will. The brutality, the sacrifice… It changes you. I'd rather be a good man than a great King.”

         “Is this my son I hear? Or the woman he loves?”

         “When you speak, do I never hear Mother's voice?“ Touché. Loki sighted and waited for him to continue. “This is not for Jane, Father. She does not know what I came here to say. Now forbid me to see her or say she can rule at my side, it changes nothing.”

         Loki sighted and thought of something his not-father would have said. “One son who wanted the Throne too much, another who will not take it. Is this my legacy?”

         “Loki died with honour. I shall try to live the same. Is that not legacy enough?” Loki nodded. Thor picked up his hammer and offered it to the man on the throne. Loki knew that he had to let go of it if he didn’t want anybody to know about the frying pan issue still going on behind him.

         “It belongs to you. If you are worthy of it.”

         “I shall try to be.”

         “I cannot give you my blessing, nor can I wish you good fortune.” He knew it wasn’t true, but truth had never Odin’s forte. Was it his, then?

         “I know.”

         Loki felt slightly bad for his brother. He could tell that his girlfriend was about to break up with him and the he was going to decide to go on a depressing sabbatical to get away from grief. He felt he needed to say something. After all, Odin had never stated any affection for Thor either. “If I were proud of the man my son had become, even that I could not say, I would speak only from my heart. Go, my son.”

         “Thank you, father” said Thor, bowing slightly and walking out of the room while leaving the door open.

         “No, thank you” said Loki mockingly. Now he had to get up and close the door again. Loki scratched his neck. He knew Thor was far from ready to be king, but he was surprised this little adventure had made him somewhat conscious about it. He took a deep breath and stretched.

         “Shit, this chair is uncomfortable. I’ll have commission someone to give it back support if I plan to sit here every day…”

         Loki went to retrieve his pan and saw the old man laying unceremoniously on the floor. He knew he had to move the body quickly, but he couldn’t resist painting a farting butt on his left cheek. He would certainly need help of the guards to move the man out of Asgard and also think of a way to give himself a proper burial. For the moment he settled on casting an illusion of himself over the king.

         “Hmmnnn… Loki…” Smack! He needed to get himself a more permanent way to keep him unconscious but at least he was reassured that the guy was not dead. He really needed Odin to be sent away and never to return. Loki, still disguised as Odin, picked up the body as best as he could and dragged him down the stairs and towards the back door.

         “It is better if you ask your wards for help, your highness” said one guard, closing the door that Thor had left open.

         “Erm, yes. Thank you. You can help me with this. I thought I was able to carry my son’s body, but I seemed to have forgotten that I am an old man now.” Loki started picking at his hands and tried to appear as regal as one can be. He had been weakened by his near-death experience back in the Dark world and was struggling to keep the illusions in place. His butt-fart was now visible and did his best to try to cover it with his cape.

         “No, no, my lord. You should be resting.” Insisted. “After losing your beloved wife and son you’ll need it. These men over here will…”

         Loki dropped the body yet again and looked at the guard he had made up. The one that looked exactly like the man that just entered the throne room. His eyes widened and the grip on his pan got tighter.

         “Erm… I won’t say a thing, my prince. Not a word.” Said the guard. “If you do this little thing for me.”

         “Prince? I am Odin Allfather, your lord and king!” said Loki trying to emulate Odin’s condescending tone.

         “No, you’re not, my prince” he continued. “And you’ll need some allies if you plan to sneak out The Allfather’s body out of Asgard.”

         Unfortunately, he was right. Loki took a deep breath and dropped the illusions all at once. He kept holding the pan. “What’s your name, soldier?”

         “Raisin”

         “Raisin?”

         “Yeah, my parents thought they were language geniuses.”

         “Well, Raisin. The Royal Family does not deal with terrorists.”

         “Hmmm… yes you do” stated the man. He was getting kind of cocky and Loki didn’t like that at all. “That’s what royal families do, deal with each other. But we’re getting off topic. I know that if this plan backfires I’ll be the one to blame, so don’t worry about me telling.”

         “So, you have a plan?” Loki will never admit it, but he was kind of relieved that he didn’t have to do it alone.

         “Yeah, we can do what we did to my partner’s mom” said Raisin, nonchalantly. “She didn’t approve of his son and I living together so we sent her to Shady Acres some years ago.

         “Is that… a nursing home?”

         “Yeah, on Earth. The staff is kind and nice. They have good food and chess tournaments. They also don’t let them go to their daily walk if they say any slur, which is a plus.”

         “Sounds promising. Any ideas about my funeral? Do you know how to get a corpse?”

         “Yeah…” murmured Raisin. Suddenly his boots were kind of interesting.

         “Erm… Sorry for your loss” said Loki. He didn’t know what to say in these kinds of situations.

         “I… I really want to give him a proper burial but I don’t have any money on my name.”

         “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. I have lived with Thor for centuries, I guess some of his interior design skills had stuck” said the God of Mischief. He realised that Raisin had started to cry and felt very helpless. “Here use this.”

         Raisin chuckled when he handled him the king’s cape to wipe his tears and clear his nose. “Is that…a very ugly muffing?”

         “What, no. It’s very obviously a fart!” said Loki. “My artistic skills had been insulted. I will have to kill you now.”

         Raisin rolled his eyes. “Now, shut up and pick him by the hands, he looks heavy.”

[gingerwritess]

How did Loki meet their S/O?

shawarma

warning: some violence and descriptive injuries

a/n: HEY HERE IT IS

finally wrote how you n Loki met woop HOPE ITS EVERYTHING YOU IMAGINED

friendly reminder that criticism is NOT welcome here if it’s mean and just because you want to be right and you just like telling other people they’re wrong!!! :)))

i know the ending is a bit sudden but don’t WORRY we’re entering slowburn territory folks enjoy

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The feeling of coming-to is a strange one.

Normally it goes with eyes opening to darkness, then you blink a couple times and start to remember where you are.

This time is no different. The blinks come painfully, powdered cement probably catching behind your eyelids, but you pry watering eyes open to glance around.

Your office, destroyed. Only one desk still stands, unfortunately not yours, computer parts litter the floor, half the ceiling appears to have collapsed—a pair of heeled feet bend at an odd angle from under the rubble.

You scramble away, dust settling in your throat with each heavy gasp before you manage to pull yourself to your feet. Something warm trickles down your cheek but you can’t feel it, staring in horror at your humble little office: the new intern, Mark, lies over in the corner, clearly dead.

A pencil sticks halfway out of his neck.

One of the janitors who’s name you hadn’t gotten to know yet is writhing at the top of the stairwell as you stumble past, moaning in agony and clutching her face, something red dripping from behind her hands.

The first step down the stairs sends you retching and you vomit over the handrail.

Fresh air, fresh air—

It’s not much fresher, but you fall to your skinned knees and take in lungfuls of dusty, smokey air.

More bodies. This time both human and alien. Ugly purplish and scaly and distorted, like every alien you’d ever imagined would drop from a portal in the sky.

The scent of charred flesh hits your nose and you double over once again, heaving the bile from your empty stomach onto the stained streets.

“That was dramatic.”

You nearly fall over with a start, heart leaping from your chest—oh god, to hear someone else actually speak, be alive—

“You.”

One of the alien’s staffs is sticking into a corpse just a few feet away; you take a quick step and pry it from the body, trying not to retch.

He cocks his head.

“Are you going to kill me?”

You take a shaky breath and point the spear at his chest. “I-I’m considering it.”

The god lifts his head, turning his face to the sky and closing his eyes. The throat now bared so plainly to your pointed end of the spear is bruised, you notice, yellowing purple spots starting to appear on the once perfect skin.

“Kill away.”

Awkward and heavy in your grip, the spear shakes with the trembles of your hands as you stare. No, don’t kill him yet—you’re still not sure what you’re looking at.

That face has been plastered across news channels for hours; you’d seen a warning this morning and thought to yourself how freakishly blue his eyes were, not paying much mind to the “dangerous persons” warning that came after the photo.

It’s never a worry, you always think you’ll be fine, but then it happens.

Now this “dangerous person” is sitting on a curb, flakes of rubble and dust on his caped shoulders and in his dark hair, leaning against a stop sign with a hammer of some sort on his knees.

“Why are you just…” you move the end of the spear down and back up. “Sitting here?”

“Would you rather I do something else?”

The pointed tip of the staff meets the hard armour on his chest. “Don’t,” you hiss, fingers tightening around the cold metal. You should just do it, end him now, it’s the least he deserves—

“Please,” you add after a moment, voice coming out much more cracked and desperate than you intended. “No more, please don’t.”

“Then kill me, mortal, we don’t have much time.” He lifts his chin again, this time not closing his eyes, just staring at you down the bridge of his nose.

You can’t move forward, can’t push the spear through the hollow of his throat; your feet won’t move.

“Do you have any idea,” you choke out, pushing the staff against him a little harder, “how many people you killed?”

“Enlighten me.”

It all happened so quickly that looking back, it’s a blur.

You know you cut him, somewhere either along his jaw or his neck—mostly out of self defence, you’ll tell yourself later. It was almost as if he’d known you would strike him when he said that; he bared his teeth and snarled, lunging at you just as you brought the spear down near his neck with a shriek and a set of handcuffs yanked him back into the stop sign with a crash.

So he is a prisoner.

You point the spear right back in his face, trying to slow your pounding heart—good.

“Stay back,” you order, but it comes out in a pathetic whisper.

“Or what?” The god’s lips curl at the corners. “You’ll…kill me?”

Why does he sound hopeful?

A door to the left of you slams open and before you have a moment to even blink, Iron Man is pointing a glowing palm at you, a bag of takeout in the other hand. The other god you’d seen on the news, the good one, Thor, steps in front of your more evil god, blocking that haunting smirk from view.

And Captain America’s hand is on the spear, a burger in his other hand, lowering the weapon from pointing at the two gods and slowly taking it from your trembling hands.

“No one else needs to die today,” he murmurs, tossing the spear to the ground and giving you a small smile.

Your eyes meet for half a second before you crumple to the floor, shaking and curling in on yourself.

You almost killed him.

* * * * * * * *

Stark Industries hired nearly every displaced employee after the attack, adding wings to the tower and new job descriptions to fit everyone he could help.

You’re grateful for the job; it’s not like you had much elsewhere to go. Dumping all your savings into a little apartment put a new roof over your head, but sure as hell drained your wallet for the next few months.

And so begins the rebuilding process.

The god, Loki, you’ve learned is his name, is being held in the tower, too, for who knows how long. No one will say. You don’t see much of the Avengers, besides getting out of their way in hallways and rec rooms and giving an awkward half-wave whenever the Captain looks your way.

It’s not like he stopped you from nearly skewering a man.

You see Loki, every once in a while, just in passing. First time, he was being escorted to a holding cell by a few armoured shield agents, and you had been heading up to your office.

Those freakishly blue eyes caught yours.

He smiled.

If you could even call it that. The concept of an “evil grin” was something you’d figured out only happened in movies, no actual person could have an evil grin—until that.

That…was an evil grin. Full on Disney villain smirk, you half expected him to offer you a poison apple.

A shudder ran through your whole body and he disappeared around the corner, handcuffs clanking with each step.

Rumors about him start circulating within days, whispers heard of a second attack, a plot to tear apart the Avengers, assassination attempts on Thor…even mind control. But he has fans, you discover after agreeing to an after-work outing, a lot of your coworkers actually find him attractive—

No more truth or dare four drinks into the night.

“You know that wasn’t really him,” one girl had snorted, swaying in her seat. “He was being brain-played! No, no, m-m…memory…mind controlled!”

She’d snapped her fingers in your face with a laugh and you’d rolled your eyes. “I doubt it, some people are just…” you had paused, trying to capture everything wrong in the world in one word. “I don’t know…hateful.”

“But he’s hot.”

You left early that night.

And a couple days later, you see him again. This time he doesn’t look like himself.

He’s stumbling down the hallway, past the break room with one hand clutching the side of his head, the other leaning his weight against the wall for support. His eyes screwed shut, a look of pure pain twists his face.

Good, he deserves it.

You cringe to yourself as you watch him struggle—that was a pretty malicious thought—and he punches a fist into the wall, leaving broken drywall clouding the air as he shakes his hand out and punches the wall again, clawing at his head with the other hand.

What’s this act for, this time?

Thor comes running, catches Loki’s fist that was about to shatter a window, and slams him into the wall with a shout.

You peek your head out the door and for the first time hear Loki whimper, a pathetic, refreshingly weak noise in the back of his throat. He’s hurting.

“Need me to call for backup?”

The blond slings Loki’s arm over his shoulders and lugs him up against his side. “I have this under control,” he smiles, hoisting Loki’s limp body higher. “We got through him this time. Once more and he might be back to normal.”

“Is normal…” you gesture to the lanky god. “Is normal any better?”

“A bit,” Thor grunts, lifting one of Loki’s eyelids and studying his rolling eye. “He’s a bit less…genocidal.”

“Oh, goody.”

His eyes fly open and he jerks towards you, snarling like a rabid animal.

“YOU—”

Barely stopping a scream from ripping from your throat, you shrink back against the wall and shut your eyes, hands covering your face and yelling until Thor takes him by the throat and slams his head into the wall again.

“You should’ve—” Loki’s voice dies in his throat and he slumps, head lolling.

“What the HELL—”

“Cognitive recalibration,” Thor sighs, dragging Loki upright. “He’s…unstable. Teleported himself right out of the lab before we could stop him. My apologies.”

Chest heaving, you nod and try to catch your breath. “Don’t worry about it. Just, uh, please don’t let him kill me.”

“To be fair,” Thor chuckles, “you did nearly murder him.”

“He literally blew up half of New York.”

* * * * * * * *

There’s a guard now, a shield agent with a clunky gun and who probably sleeps in a bulletproof vest, following a few steps behind you everywhere you go.

Apparently Loki had asked for you a couple days ago while he was still being held in the lab. Well, maybe not so much asked rather than demanded Mr. Stark bring you to him.

Mr. Stark said no.

Thank god.

They asked him why and he wouldn’t give any answer more than “even prisoners are allowed their toys,” which upon hearing, you’d tried to quit your job.

The captain, Steve, and the others told you you’d honestly be safer here, where they can keep the recently brainwashed god on a tight leash and keep a protective eye on you—hence the guard.

You’re scared out of your mind, naturally.

He’s sweet though, the guard.

He holds doors open for you, asks you how your days are going, compliments your outfits in a way that’s actually not creepy for a change, and only once brought up the fact that you managed to get yourself on a god’s hitlist—you know, the usual small talk.

But there’s been no talk of Loki the past few days, though, it’s been kind of nice. Nothing to worry about.

Your “special agent” seems to think so, too; he’s getting comfortable.

After another day standing by your office door with a gun in his hands, he yawns and stretches, arms over his head. “I’m gonna get a coffee,” he announces. “Ain’t nobody makes it like I do, sweetheart, want one?”

You laugh and politely decline, going back to your work as the door swings shut.

Sweetheart. That’s new.

Someone clears their throat.

Loki’s leaning against the door, arms crossed and staring at you, hair a wild mess and leather shirt in shreds.

You scream for your guard and nearly fall out of your chair, scrambling to find the gun set under your desk.

“He won’t hear you,” he drones, rolling his eyes and raising a hand.

“No, no, don’t—”

“Relax, sweetheart, I only want an answer.” He takes a couple steps towards you, eyes dark. Cold. Immensely threatening…you have to find this gun.

“Stay away from me.” Finally feeling the cold metal under your fingers, you shoot to your feet and point the gun at him, ignoring the shaking of your hands. “I will shoot you in your fucking face, if you take another step—”

“It’s like you read my mind.” He taps a finger to his temple and stalks towards you, staring down the barrel of your gun.

“Wh-what is that supposed to mean??” You take a couple stumbling steps backwards, keep the gun trembling in his face.

The god pauses in front of you, staring at your gun. Or maybe more so your hands; they’re shaking beyond control now. He raises a finger and pushes the end of the gun, watching it weakly wobble in your grip.

“Finish the job.”

It’s barely a snarl and he makes a sharp, sudden movement towards you; you shriek, squeeze your eyes shut, and pull the trigger.

Gunshots are louder than you imagined.

Once the ringing in your ears has stopped, you don’t want to open your eyes. You’ve seen enough blood, dead bodies, and bullets through the head to last a lifetime—thanks to this guy, though.

The thought slightly comforts you and you crack one eye open.

“So you would have done it?”

His breath is cold on your neck and you whirl around with a shout, pulling the trigger again and again with no direction, no sight, no idea where he is, just needing him gone. No more haunting you, or rather…no more hunting you.

He’s in front of you when you open your eyes again, twisting his head around and rubbing his neck with a quiet groan, the bullet holes in his pale skin sewing themselves shut.

The smoking gun falls to the floor with a clatter.

“Damn,” he grunts, bending to pick up the gun. “You like to see me hurt, hm?”

He moves towards you, one hand behind his back as the other twirls your gun around on a long finger, and you can’t seem to break eye contact until the backs of your thighs hit your desk and you fall to your ass with a dull thud.

A smirk turns at his lips and you swallow hard.

“Next time,” he murmurs, handing you back the gun, “take the coffee.”

“No—w-where are you going??”

He pauses with a hand on the door and turns back to your raised gun. “I got my answer. Worth a try.”

The door swings open before you can ask what that is and your guard walks in with another yawn, two cups of coffee in his hands and a donut balanced on each one.

Needless to say, he was a bit surprised—and confused—to find you a babbling, trembling mess, sitting on your desk in an empty room, pointing an empty gun in his face.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

hope you enjoyed, feel free to send me ideas!

loki tags: @bluediamond007 @himitoshi @drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1 @yzssie @skullvieplu @forthesnakeofdragons @skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica @storiesfrommirkwood @agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424 @paradisaicsam @fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites @tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong @holyn0vak @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland @kenzieam @jessiejunebug  @catticas @the-republic-and-face-of-texas @doralupin01 @whitewitchdown @atomiccharmer @falconfeather23435 @babygirlicecream @avengrcs @vethrvolnir2 @bookgirlunicorn @wabisabigrl @myhealingstar @khaleesi-marvel @ei77777 @spacecrumbs @scarlettghost13 @rocks-are-pretty-odd @confessionsofastrugglingteen @easilydistractedwriter @arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @fluffyllamaswearinghats @milktearose @lcyouinhell @h0tshotholland @dontmesswithmemundane @southsidesarcasticwriter @helnik-s @lilith-akemi @fire-in-her-veinz @unlikelysamwinchesteronahunt @mischievousbellerina @kcd15 @mellowgirl01 @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @allthingzhiddleston @scorpionchild81 @lokixme @blue-automne @galaxycharmed @devilbat @kangaroobunny @end-up-well @planetariumx @sarcsep @mrfandomtastic @amaru163 @im-way-too-many-fandoms @caswinchester2000 @kybaeza @wester-than-west @vintagesunshinebitch @adefectivedetective @poetic-nikolai @moonduhsted @kerri-masson @iamverity @innaminitus @spnbarnes

[imagine-loki]

Atlas: Space, Moon

TITLE: Atlas: Space

CHAPTER NO./ONE-SHOT: 5/12

AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine narrating episodes of Loki’s life with the Avengers based on the songs from Sleeping At Last’s “Atlas: Space” album. 

RATING: T-M

NOTES/WARNINGS: Welcome to my Sleeping At Last’s Atlas: Space challenge, aka Another writing project I do not have time for, but my brain insisted on doing.

This series will be less like a multichapter fic and more of a one-shot compendium, but that they all interconnect in one way or another. It will revolve around Loki and Becca’s relationship (Taking Turns, Glow, Helmet Heists–don’t worry, more Loki-Charlie stuff will be along) and I will use those one-shots as reference to the timeline. Each chapter will be one song, used as inspiration for the story.

Chapter 5: Moon

Summary: Hell hath no wrath like an out-of-the-loop Tony. Are you ready for this to get kinda soft? Because it gets kinda soft. (Happens previous to Taking Turns.)

Warnings include: Language. Loki wishing heat-stroke had taken him, soft and vulnerable frost giant fluff, and two idiots who just need to fucking kiss already.

=

[Instrumental track-really good reading music, btw]

Loki groaned pitifully as he awoke. His whole body felt like it had been dipped in lead and tossed to the bottom of the deepest ocean where he fell into an ever-deepening trench. Except he wasn’t dipped in anything. He wasn’t in the ocean. He was in the Med Bay, after, most likely, being pulled out of the mission, and, after the humiliation of passing out, he just wished he was drowning.

He tried moving his fingers first, opening and closing his fists tentatively to gauge the ache. He found the dull throb a reminder that he was, indeed, an idiot. His skin looked pale–well, paler than usual–and several lines seemed to have been placed directly into his veins with fluids. He wondered how Banner had even managed to get the needles to pierce his skin, but that was neither here nor there.

A noise of pages turning beside him, rustled. Loki bargained with the universe to end his miserable existence now, rather than have to face the person he knew was occupying the chair beside his bed. The universe denied his plea, as it always did. He wondered why he even bothered asking, anymore.

Becca looked about as tired as he felt. Though her hair was tied up in a sleek braid that was draped over her shoulder, and her clothes looked fresh and kempt, her eyes had dark bags beneath them. They were also rimmed in red. She had been crying. Surely it had not been over him, had it? With a groan, he sat up.

“Welcome back.” Her voice was soft, though hoarse and her face was littered in small, half-healed cuts. He must not have been asleep for too long. He was almost hesitant to break the calm quietness of the moment, though that was quickly solved. 

The sound of Bruce repeating Tony’s name in a plea echoed in the empty medical facility. A second later Tony, red in the face, was in front of Loki’s cot, pointer finger gesturing the Prince.

“Do you have any idea how fucked we could have been because of your little stunt?” Loki had the good sense to look down in shame, hair forming a dark curtain around his face to hide the flush creeping up his neck. “If Becca hadn’t been in position to get to you, we’d be retrieving your corpse right around now. Do you understand that, Loki? Dead! You would survived every other fucking thing the Universe had thrown at you and you would’ve bowed out because of fucking heat stroke!”

He growled, seemingly no longer capable of speech and knocked over a tray, making both Becca and Loki start.

“I had to pull Thor from his assignment because I had no idea if he was going to pass out, too. We had to scramble the whole roster to finish the mission because you weren’t bothered to tap out when you reached your limit! We nearly fucked this whole op because of you. You are in such deep shit, Mischief. I swear to God!”

With that sentiment hanging in the air, Tony turned tail and stomped his way out of the hospital room.

Loki turned to Becca, his eyes looked pained as he took her in. “I’m so–” She raised a finger, wordlessly telling him to hold his thought before she pointed back at the Med Bay entrance where Tony was rushing back in. She seemed almost amused by the man’s predictability. In reality, she was just used to seeing this song and dance routine being done with Peter.

“A frost giant in 110 plus degree heat? Really? You should have told us, Loki!” He roared and Loki stilled as his blood ran as cold as his species name. “You should have told us the second you started working here. Let me be clear. I don’t give a shit what the hell you are. You can be an ice giant, a fae princess or a goddamn opossum–you don’t keep that from us!” He raked his hair frustratedly, trying to swallow the rest of his yelling and barely succeeding. “I would have given you a different beat on mission. I would have given you both a different beat.” Loki opened his mouth to protest, but was promptly cut off. “Do you think I don’t know you went on that mission because of Becks? What kind of a moron do you take me for?”

“Not a damn word, Loki,” Becca warned, smirking. “This is not the moment to be clever.” Loki pressed his mouth to a thin line, glaring shortly at the woman for denying him his only defense mechanism at present. 

Tony rolled right through the joke, too keyed up to be amused. “You are grounded, do you hear me? Grounded! No more missions until I decide that you’ve learned your damn lesson. No more leaving the compound for pizza in the city. No special passes to Asgard. Completely grounded. Am I understood?”

Loki surprised himself by nodding effusively to the demands, back pressed against the headboard as though he intended to meld into the wall behind him. Tony stomped back out, muttering out loud about idiots who were going to give him a heart attack. Loki glanced back at Becca, who was sitting crisscross, book abandoned on the portion of her thighs left bare by her shorts. In the scratchy paper gown Loki felt entirely out-of-place in her presence. Still, he couldn’t find it in himself to want to leave.

Despite her neutral expression, he could see something akin to hurt lurking behind her eyes. “I didn’t tell–”

“It’s fine,” Becca cut in, waving him off. “It was none of my business. I get it.” She sniffed delicately, her eyes dropping to the checkered floor of the hospital as if it help some great secret.

“Rebecca…”

She glanced up and unwound her legs, reaching forward to ruffle his hair. “I’m glad you’re OK.”

When she made to leave, Loki wrapped his fingers around her wrist and held her still. “It wasn’t because of you or because I didn’t trust you.”

The woman looked like she debated not arguing but thought better of it at the last moment, letting the frustration pour out of her every pore. “That doesn’t change the fact that I was the one who watched you almost die without knowing the reason.”

“I didn’t want it to change how you saw me,” he explained for reasons he could not comprehend.

Becca scoffed, leaning down to get eye level with him. He could feel her breath on his face and at any other point in time, he would have celebrated being in this position. Something in the back of his head told him he shouldn’t cheer this time around.  “Literally no one gave a shit what you looked like as we dragged your giant-ass, blue body onto the jet. We only prayed you wouldn’t die before we hit ally airspace, you fucking moron,” she explained slowly, voice trembling and eyes watering. “We work with a bioengineered, sentient gem–you’re not that fucking special.”

Loki swallowed thickly, suddenly terrified of the burning rage reflected in her warm eyes. It was bright, beaming, smoldering fear that fueled it. Fear that she would lose him before they managed to land somewhere that might have been safe to intervene on him. Fear that she would lose a colleague, a friend. Fear that she would never make him pay for keeping her in the dark for so long. Loki felt every last bit of that fear, magnified tenfold to become his own.

He leaned his forehead onto her clasped hand. “I didn’t want you to know who I really was and chance scaring you off.”

“Are you dumb or what?” She snapped, gritting her teeth in an effort to contain her tears. “Why would I judge you over something you have no control over? After all we’ve done? All we’ve lived? I thought I showed you who I was a little better than that.”

“It wasn’t about you–”

“Evidently it was or you wouldn’t care if I saw!” She snapped before sighing, brushing his tangled hair back with her free hand. “You worried me a hell of a lot.” There was so much held back in her voice, he could tell, but he was not about to try his luck and pressure her into revealing her secrets. 

“I’m sorry, Rebecca.” Loki had never apologized for a damn thing in his life, but he couldn’t help but let the words slip now, as she watched him with worry in her eyes and hurt in her soul.

“Scoot over, Evil Smurf,” she teased softly, and the words landed as painfully as if she had called him my love. He wanted this. He wanted this playful pain, but he couldn’t reason to himself why. 

Swallowing a groan, he shifted over in the hospital cot. Becca clambered in easily and draped her arm around his shoulders, feeling him tense momentarily. After a second, the warmth of her digits seeped into his skin, and he melted into her side. When he let out a small sad whine, she pressed a kiss to his temple and allowed him to hide his face into the crook of her neck. Whether their silent agreement to shelve their discussion was due to shock of their mutual vulnerability or pure exhaustion, it was unsure. They merely accepted the conditions and sat tangled up, with only the sound of their breathing.

That’s how Bruce found them, asleep, an hour later when he went in to change Loki’s IV bag.

[bits-bobs-and-barnes]

Bend the Knee {Loki Laufeyson x Reader}

{Author’s Note: Trying out a new character, tell me if you like it– or want a part two? As always, like and reblog to help the blog grow! Send me a message, I love to hear from you guys! And let me know if you’d like to be tagged in this story or any of my other stories!}

Warnings: torture? mentions of blood and death, 

Summary: Asgard has a long and bloodstained history, building a shining kingdom off the backs of other smaller, conquered kingdoms. But, when the eldest of Odin’s sons finds an interest in you, the sole princess of a much smaller kingdom, he seeks to take you for himself– regardless of the cost.}

Tags: @chonisberonica @jilldsumner @legendsaresooftenwarnings

“And what if we refuse?” Your brother raised his voice from beside your father, his golden armor gleaming, and his spear at his side. “What do we have to gain from uniting ourselves with war-mongers and bloodthirsty killers?”

Your father gave your brother a stern look, but did not apologize for his words.

Odin’s youngest son, Thor, let out a short barking laugh as he lowered his goblet, not bothering to look the slightest bit threatened by your brother’s antics. “Your little kingdom would battle Asgard?” He mocked, looking at your aging father, and then, to you.

Loki was slightly more diplomatic, calmly wiping the corners of his mouth and laying his napkin across his lap, his eyes remaining on your father. “It would be unfortunate if this came to conflict,” he surmised, “we have come to make peace.” He returned his attention to the meager meal. “Our father wishes to make friends, and would offer prosperity as part of his larger empire. Any boon you require, it is of little consequence to Odin.” He politely smiled, still upholding the pretense that this was a negotiation, and not a threat.

“And what would you require in return?” Your father was by no means a fool, he knew what their arrival meant, and what would happen when he refused. He looked to you, fear growing in his heart. His poor daughter…

“Submission,” Thor interjected before Loki could make some flowery dance around the word. “Complete and utter submission.”

Loki cleared his throat, but said nothing to refute this.

“And my crown? My children? Children of Odin, I have heard this story many times, and I know that your father is not benevolent or merciful. He would have my city sacked, my wife and daughter-” his voice carried off, disgust building in his tone.

“Your daughter,” Thor again chimed in, looking to you, “would be well taken care of, my Lord, I would personally see to it that she is satisfied.” He shot you a small wink, not missing the way you turned away and pursed your lips.

Your father stood, red in the face, outraged that he would so boldly state such lecherous things in front of him. He, in no kind words, told them that you did not accept their offer, and would defend your home with whatever necessary force.

///

You trembled from the floor, tears streaming from your eyes.

You father was dead, and his only crime? Not bending to the brutal regime of Odin and his sons. The Asgardians had swept in and devastated your military, reaching the palace in a matter of hours, and slaughtering what was left of your Kingsguard. 

At the front of this procession was Odin’s oldest son, Loki, outfitted in a wicked emerald green, a grin on his face as he struck down your father. He had called out to you, his voice so sweet and songlike as he approached the throne that your father had inhabited for centuries, taking his seat with no great humility. “I know you are near, dear princess,” he taunted, wearing your father’s crown now, watching his men overturn corpses and loot what remained of your palace. “Surrender, and we will grant you some mercy.” 

Your fingers dug into the pillar you hid behind, trying to quiet your sobs. His guards were hardly looking for you, if you could manage to slip away without detection-

“This one is still breathing!” One of the brutes shouted, hoisting up one of the corpses, and beginning to drag him towards Loki. 

You peeked at the face, and felt your heart jump in your chest. It was your eldest brother, who’d been struck down defending you and your father, was bloodied and beaten, his armor damaged beyond repair, leaving a dark red stain on the stone of the throne room floor.

Loki grinned, reaching down to take a fistful of your brother’s matted hair, and force him to meet his eyes. “You are more use to me alive than dead.” He murmured, as though the words were a shared secret. “Call for your sister.” He ordered, gesturing for two of his men to haul him up onto his knees. 

Your brother weakly shook his head. “I would die before I would deliver her to you, snake!” He spat, his voice showing the weariness of his injuries. 

Loki carefully wiped the mixture of blood and spit from his cheek, and gave a deceptively calm expression, his eyes sweeping the room. “You’re quite a warrior,” he complimented, “but I’ve heard that even the strongest of men have a breaking point. Let’s find yours.” 

With almost effortless cruelty, one of the thugs broke your brother’s arm, just below the wrist. 

He screamed with pain, and you flinched from your hiding place. It didn’t take a doctor to detect that he was close to death, and your heart ached with the thought of losing him. Your grip on the pillar tightened, debating whether or not to follow your Father’s orders, or your conqueror’s. 

“I can heal him,” his voice was so full of promise as he watched your brother writhe with the pain of a broken limb. He didn’t look around, knowing the tales of your tender heart and mind– and knowing you must be in absolute agony. “Break the other one,” he ordered, after a few seconds of pause, leaning back on his newly acquired throne. 

“No!” You cried, emerging from your hiding place and stepping forward into his view. “Please! Don’t hurt him!” There were tears in your eyes, lip quivering as you finally caved. 

Loki grinned, holding up a hand, “I am true to my word, Princess,” the green magic came easily to his fingers, and you watched cuts and bruises disappear, the bones in his arm resetting as his shoulders slumped with relief. 

You could almost weep with relief, but you could not stomach the look of betrayal your brother offered you. Family, you reasoned, was more important than pride. At least he would live, you reassured yourself. He would come to forgive you with time. 

So, you willingly entered your captor’s arms, unsure of your future or safety, but alive. 

Loki stood from his stolen throne, and approached you, taking your hands in his without a word, lifting one to his lips and offering a crooked smile. “Let’s go home.” 

[elisaphoenix13]

I want to ask something,what do you think if stephen got hurt and his body is weak to do anything,so tony,peter,and maybe some of the team help him ?

A Helping Hand

Stephen mutters quietly to himself as he reads through a book and he snaps it shut when he hears a crash from upstairs. Peter had gone with him to the Sanctum today while the sorcerer went through its books, promising not to touch anything, but that promise was broken a couple of hours upon arriving. Peter managed to keep himself busy with homework but must have recently finished if the noise was anything to go by.

“The Sorcerer Supreme mutters to himself?”

Stephen turns in surprise and narrows his eyes at the man standing in the middle of the foyer. “How did you get in here? I would ask if you are a sorcerer as that is the only explanation, but I don’t recognize you.”

“Not all study in Kamar-Taj.”

Stephen glances at the man’s hand. “Yet you have a sling ring. Those are strictly found at the compound, which tells me you either stole from the master teaching you or you killed them…either way it makes you a rogue.” The sorcerer supreme sighs. “Here I thought I found all of you. My mistake.”

He flicks both of his wrists up and their surroundings crack, giving away the mirror dimension. Stephen would never forgive himself if Peter was dragged into a fight with a rogue sorcerer, and he really didn’t want to clean up a guaranteed mess. He needed to swipe the rogue’s sling ring first and then he could worry about extracting the man’s magic.

“Dr. Stephen Strange…Sorcerer Supreme…my name is–”

“Yeah, I don’t care.”

Stephen could have sworn he heard a snicker but his foe didn’t look around, so he brushed it off as a trick of his mind. It wouldn’t be the first time. There had been a few times he said something that got a ghostly laugh, but he never found anyone when he looked around. He even called out but got no answer.

An offended look crosses the man’s features but he continues. “My name is–”

“I seriously don’t care.” Stephen interrupts again. “It won’t matter in a few minutes.”

He conjures and throws his whip out against the rogue and misses by a hair when the man dodges to the side. When he pulls out his sling ring, Levi leaves Stephen’s shoulders and squeezes itself around the rogue’s wrist tightly enough to cause him to drop his sling ring and Stephen rushes forward and snags it off the ground. The rogue manages to throw the cloak off his hand and kicks the sorcerer supreme in the chest before he can move away, and Stephen grunts as he flies backward and hits the wall.

“This is what I get for pulling my punches.”

He staggers to his feet and ducks the rogue’s flying fist, and then reaches up to grab the man’s arm and turn to throw him over his shoulder. The rogue grunts when his back hits the floor and Stephen suddenly finds himself on his own back when the mystery man flips their positions and shoves one of his arms against the doctor’s throat. With his free hand, the rogue conjures a knife and raises his arm and Stephen attempts to shove the man off when he brings it down.

A loud thwap causes both men to freeze, but the sorcerer supreme recovers at the sight of webbing holding back the rogue’s arm. Stephen smirks and grabs the web, wrapping it around the man once he successfully shoves him off, and Peter jumps down next to the doctor as he reaches out and extracts the rogue’s personal magic.

“How dare you! You have no right to take what is rightfully mine!”

Stephen rolls his eyes as he dismisses the mirror dimension. “Cub.” Peter webs the rogue’s mouth. “I am the Sorcerer Supreme. It is my job to take magic from those who use it against innocents and with ill will.” He then looks over at Peter. “How long have you been here?”

Peter shrugs. “Long enough to know you didn’t care about this guy’s name.”

Stephen chuckles as he draws a portal and sends the man through it to Kamar-Taj, leaving him for the other masters to deal with. Peter deactivates his suit and the sorcerer quickly notices the oversized sweater the teen is wearing as his own, and has to keep himself from smiling like an idiot. Peter looked to be swimming in Stephen’s sweater, but he somehow made it look adorable.

“Want to tell me why you’re wearing my sweater?”

“I found it.”

“Give it back.”

“No way! It’s mine now!” Peter climbs the wall when Stephen reaches out and he grins. “It’s my security blanket!”

The sorcerer raises an inquisitive eyebrow. “How so?”

“Smells like you.”

“And what will you do when the smell wears off?” Stephen asks as he massages his temples.

“Switch it with another one.” The teen’s says as if it were obvious, and really…it kind of was.

“Steal your father’s clothes.”

“I do. I have one of his shirts!”

Whatever. He didn’t really care. If borrowing his clothes comforted the teen, he would happily throw what little bit he had in his closet at him. Although he wouldn’t actually admit that out loud because then more than one sweater or shirt would go missing at a time.

Stephen walks up the stairs toward the Sanctum library as Peter follows across the ceiling, and he sighs when he finds Wong sitting at the table with his earphones in. He calls out his name a couple of times before finally waving his hand, using his magic to pull the earbuds out. Wong looks up from his book at the sudden interruption and Stephen folds his arms.

“I could have used your help a few minutes ago.”

“With what?”

The doctor rolls his eyes. “With the rogue sorcerer that walked through the front door.”

“You look fine.”

“So Tony says.” Wong rolls his eyes. “I was almost stabbed. I’m only okay because of Peter.”

The librarian raises an eyebrow. “Is there a problem I’m not seeing?”

“Only that I unknowingly dragged my son into the mirror dimension.”

“Totally cool by the way.” Peter pipes up from his crouch on the ceiling, making Wong jump.

“Stephen, we all know you wouldn’t let anything happen to him. He’s obviously fine and so are you.”

“Wong, hitting on me is one thing but Peter–” Stephen laughs when the other sorcerer throws a book at him in retaliation, and he side steps the second book as he answers his cell phone when it rings. “Yes?”

“Hey Wifey…you in New York by any chance?” Tony asks and Stephen hears a faint explosion in the background.

“At the Sanctum. That better have not been the lab.”

“I wish it was the lab. No Mama Bear, just another typical alien invasion. I’m assuming the baby is with you and we could use a couple of extra hands.”

“Ugh. Do I have to? I just dealt with a rogue.”

“Some of them are using magic. Wanda and Loki can only do so much.”

Hanging up, Stephen sighs and opens a portal, which Peter jumps through with a whoop (no doubt overhearing the phone call with his enhanced hearing), and the sorcerer ducks the third book Wong throws at him before following Peter. The teen was already swinging around and webbing up some aliens that the others were fighting, giving them the moments rest they needed before having to dodge and deflect the attack of another alien, leaving Stephen to find the creatures using magic.

To be fair, it was pretty chaotic. Bruce actually had to let the Hulk out and Stephen had to clone himself to deal with the multitudes of magic-using aliens so he could take the risky moments to make sure the rest of the team was okay. He already had to conjure a temporary shield between Steve and an alien that was trying to blitz him from behind when the captain was occupied with two others.

The fight was going rather well otherwise. Thor found their ships just outside the atmosphere and was taking care of those while they took care of the creatures left over on the ground, and everyone would be able to walk away without a scratch. That was until one of the remaining bigger aliens threw a car at Bucky and he managed to dodge it. It continued to fly across the street and the winter soldier looks ahead of it to find it flying right toward Stephen. His actual physical form, not one of his clones.

“STRANGE! Look out!”

Stephen looks away from the alien he just killed and once he catches a glimpse of the car, he attempts to conjure a shield while his armor starts to cover his body. It was too late though. The car crashes into him, sending both the human and automobile over the nearby railing and into the ocean, and Bucky quickly subdues the still approaching alien with his metal arm as he presses the comm piece in his ear with his free hand.

“Someone better be a good swimmer because Strange just got thrown into the ocean! By a car that was meant for me.”

“Where?” Steve asks worriedly.

“Directly behind me.”

“I see you. I’m getting him.”

Another splash confirms the captain’s dive into the water just as the alien in Bucky’s metal grip throws off the soldier. He lands on his back as Peter swings over him and in between them, and the eyes on the teen’s suit turn red before the metal legs come out of his suit and one darts out to stab the alien.

Then again.

And again.

Peter went ballistic on the alien and it took both Bucky and Sam to pull him away from the now very dead alien corpse. While they calm him down, Steve surfaces with the unconscious sorcerer and Tony yells for someone to calm Bruce as he flies over to help them onto dry land. Once they get Stephen onto his back, the billionaire’s helmet recedes and he leans down to listen for and signs of breathing. There was none, but he still had a heartbeat so he started mouth-to-mouth.

“Why the fuck didn’t the cloak do anything?!”

Steve wipes water out of his eyes. “It tried, but it risked strangling him.”

Tony says nothing as he continues his mouth-to-mouth resuscitation until Stephen finally chokes and turns his head to the side to cough up the water in his lungs. Steve looks over the sorcerer and nudges Tony when he finds shaking hands and the billionaire stores away the rest of his armor to grab one of the hands an gently massage it.

“Hey Thumbelina! You busy?” Tony asks.

A grunt then, “Not anymore. What’s up?” Scott asks.

“It’s your dream come true. You get to hold my wife’s hand…well massage it really. The water was cold enough to chill the pins in his hands so they’re hurting right now. Cap is too cold to help so you guys switch.”

Steve pats Tony’s shoulder and runs off when Scott arrives, and the other man drops to his knees and takes Stephen’s other hand, mimicking the genius’s ministrations. “Doesn’t shortstack usually help with this?”

“Barnes and Bird-boy are a little busy trying to keep him from making another pincushion out of the alien that did this. Which is very dead now by the way.” Tony stops his massage when Stephen’s hands finally stop shaking and he reaches up to brush wet hair away from his forehead. “Does anything hurt?”

“S-Side.” Stephen forces out through chattering teeth.

Tony and Scott check both sides and the ex-criminal points out a piece of metal buried in Stephen’s side and they carefully roll him onto his uninjured side. Scott carefully wraps his hand around the metal and the doctor hisses in pain as Ant-man looks up at Tony. The billionaire nods after checking with FRIDAY to make sure it hadn’t hit any organs, and Scott pulls out the shard leaving Tony to close the wound with a medicated web that Bruce and Peter had designed. It was only temporary, but it would hold until they got him back to the Med-bay and Bruce could see to him.

“Anything else?" 

"No…j-just cold.”

Tony taps the sorcerer’s bracelet, and the nanotech quickly covers Stephen’s body. “FRIDAY, have Victor turn on his suit’s heaters. Low heat.”

The heater kicks on as the Avengers join them, the last of the aliens killed, and with some help they get Stephen onto the Quinjet and to the Med-bay. Bruce properly cleans and dresses the man’s side injury and puts him on an IV as a precaution against any bacteria from the water he swallowed, and gently but forcefully shoves Peter into a chair when he doesn’t stop his pacing. Tony, on the other hand, grabs an extra blanket from the closet and lays it over Stephen’s sleeping form.

“He’ll be fine. I want to keep him here overnight just in case though.”

“Thanks Brucie Bear.”

Bruce nods and keeps himself busy at one of the holographic screens across the room, Peter plays on his phone after getting his chair as close as possible to the bed, and Tony sits in his own chair with a Starkpad and kicks his feet up onto another empty chair. A couple of hours pass in silence until Stephen finally blinks heavy eyelids open, and he groans quietly.

“I’ve definitely had better days.” Peter’s head snaps up at his words. “I’ve also had much worse.”

Tony could tell that Peter was holding himself back from climbing onto the bed to cling onto Stephen. The sorcerer noticed too because he slowly pats the side of the bed on his uninjured side, and after getting an okay from Bruce, he carefully climbs onto the bed and tucks himself into Stephen’s side.

“Spider-Baby here actually used Instant Kill.”

“You don’t want to see the other guy.” Peter mumbles into Stephen’s collarbone.

The sorcerer huffs. “I vaguely recall your father saying something about a pincushion.”

Tony snorts. “Maybe at first. Now the correct description would be Swiss cheese.”

Stephen sighs. “That was an image I did not need.”

A comfortable silence passes for a few moments.

“Tony?”

“Yeah babe?”

“Is there anyone responsible with the team?”

Both Tony and Peter laugh. “Rhodey.” The billionaire answers.

“Oh thank god.”

[excusemysaltiness]

Haven || Loki x Reader

Chapter 1: Unleashed

Summary: The Avengers successfully secure a Hydra base but all goes wrong when its deadly prisoner escapes. Having been imprisoned for many decades, Y/N does her best to evade her pursuers. But despite her efforts, the same god of mischief continues to find her.

Chapter 2

The sun disappears bit by bit as darkened clouds set upon the ominous Hydra base. A mighty storm brews within the shadows and expands quickly, shrouding the land below in darkness. A chain of lightning strikes the Hydra base, bombarding it with barrages of electrical currents. The assault ensues until the sites security systems are disabled by the power surge.

"Good job, Thor." Comments Steve over the comms. He nods at the pilot, Natasha, indicating for her to land the Quinjet whilst the rest of the team fit their uniforms and ready their weapons. The soldier turns from the cockpit and inspects the cabin. Everyone's prepared for the battle ahead. All except for one person: the god of mischief. Steve approaches Loki and maintains his stern demeanour, unscathed by the gods piercing glares. He glances at his left hand, watching it carefully as it twirls an intricate dagger, before meeting his icy gaze.

"Get ready before we land."

In one swift motion, Loki fixes his grip on the handle of his dagger and points its blade at the soldier's chest.

"You think you can command me, mortal?" He seethes sharply. The tip of the blade inches closer towards Steve but stops when Loki registers the sound of guns cocking. He turns to see Natasha and Sam with their handguns aimed at him and glares at them before removing his dagger from Steves' chest.

"I am only assisting you in your campaign because of my brother," He says. "None of you is to command me and if any of you are to be in need of aid in the midst of the battle do not expect me to be your rescue."

The Quinjet, set on auto-pilot, lands itself in the forest aside the base and the rear door lowers. The team quickly filters out of the aircraft and Loki follows a few metres behind them. The irritated god looks up to the darkened sky to see his brother and Stark fly past and engage in combat with some Hydra operatives ahead. There are hundreds of them. Enough to help me alleviate my anger. Before they enter the clearing, Loki's attire shimmers and his Asgardian armour promptly replaces it. He summons two daggers, one held in each hand, and rushes forward towards an unsuspecting enemy. The unfortunate soldiers' screams fall on death ears and Loki continues to prey on the Hydra agents one after the other, leaving a trail of mutilated bodies in his wake. The battle prolongs for a great amount of time and eventually, the Avengers emerge victoriously. While Stark and Vision work away at downloading files from the facility's main computer system, the rest of the team explore the many floors of the desolated base. The top five levels hold nothing of interest to them, withholding only an armoury, training centre and barracks. The team sweeps through the halls, quickly snuffing out any stray Hydra soldiers, before making their way back to the elevator. They finally reach the basement floor and are startled by what the elevator doors reveal. The dark entry hallway is littered with deceased Hydra operatives.

"Keep an eye out guys," Warns Tony over the comms. "Whatever they were holding in the containment cells down there got out during the blackout."

"Do you know what they are?" Asks Natasha as she steps over a tattered body.

"A bunch of experiments gone wrong."

Stark and Vision scroll to the bottom of the folder and open up the last file.

"And a prisoner." Adds Vision.

Steve holds up a fisted hand and the team comes to a halt. Running footsteps echo from ahead accompanied by ragged pants and whimpers. The sound becomes louder until eventually, they spot the source: a snivelling Hydra operative. His left arm is missing, exposing a bloodied shoulder joint, and his right foot is twisted backwards, dragging along the floor. His injuries are very similar to ones that the corpses bear and the team fears that he might endure the same fate.

The dishevelled man looks up to the Avengers with fearful eyes. "Rennt!" He cries out. "Close the elevator or else she'll escape!"

Acting on instinct, Wanda hurries back to the panel aside the elevator doors and Thor rushes forward towards the Hydra agent. He reaches out his hand to the wounded soldier and goes to move under his right arm to offer him support. All seems well for a few seconds when suddenly the man is wrenched from the thunder gods' grip. A humanoid figure drags him back into the shadows and his blood-curdling scream is ended by a sickening snap. They hear his body fall to the floor with a thud and immediately aim their weapons ahead.

Thor holds up his hammer threateningly and calls out to the creature hiding in the darkness. "Show yourself!" His voice booms.

The Avengers maintain their positions, weapons armed and readied, but ultimately, nothing happens. After a while, the eerie silence is finally lifted and replaced by the sound of scraping metal. Followed by a door becoming unhinged.

"Shit," Curses Tony over the comms. "It's going through the emergency exit!"

"Which way's the exit?"

"Don't bother, it's already reached the surface!" He responds before flipping on his helmet.

While Stark and Vision attempt to capture the escapee, the rest of the team backtrack to the elevator and make their way to the ground floor. But by the time they get outside of the base they discover that the prisoner has already escaped. Steve and Natasha rush to Tony's side and assess his damaged armour and, more importantly, the deep gash along his right arm.

"Don't worry," Pants Stark, wincing as Natasha wraps up his arm. "Gabriel won't get far with her injured wing."

Sam lets out a short chuckle and the others shake their heads annoyedly. "You really gotta stop with your nicknames, man."

"Good Morning America, 'Evil Sweeps Over Idaho', over the night multiple residents of Canyon County, Idaho reported a winged woman flying over their homes and stealing food from wherever she could. One man suffered injuries to his face as he defended his shop from the female while another claims that he was lifted into the air before being dropped 12 feet off of the ground. Both the Nampa and Caldwell Police Department responded to the distressed calls and were able to confirm that the strange sightings were, in fact, true. Efforts were made to capture the person of interest but unfortunately, they were unable to apprehend her. No one knows where the creature came from but the local Nampa Church of Christ believes that the individual is a fallen angel expelled from heaven."

Loki rolls his eyes at the mention of the Midgardian religion and resumes reading his book whilst the rest of the Avengers' eyes are glued to the flat screen television.

"The local Police Department's have warned Canyon County residents to remain indoors until the woman is captured. The US army has begun searching the Morley Nelson Snake River Birds of Prey National Conservation Area where the individual is said to be hiding and hope that she doesn't set off and attack any more civilians."

The television screen switches off and the teams focus shifts to Nick Fury. He stands at the end of the briefing room table and pulls up a file on the holographic projector. Loki discards his book on his lap and inspects the image accompanying the lines of text. He finds himself weirdly entranced by the h/c haired woman and feels a pang of guilt when he examines her eyes. Though it is a stilled image, he can see the pain and sadness layered deep within her e/c eyes. Her years of imprisonment have changed her greatly. After what feels like hours of staring at the headshot, Loki finally reads the document. But he finds himself mulling over the first line of text over and over.

"Y/N." He says to himself quietly.

What a beautiful name.

Rennt: ‘Run’ in German (Thank you @softassbithc )

By the way, I’m Australian so I’m sorry if I got anything wrong (Specifically the GMA report)

Thanks for reading! Feedback would be much appreciated! :))

[galaxythreads]

Friendly reminder that Thor's first on screen words to Loki were this:

"It's unwise to be around me right now, brother."

(Because Thor was trying to look out for his sibling. He knows he has a temper, and he doesn't want his brother to get on the receiving end of it. He's not ignorant to this fact. So he tells him to leave while he calms himself down.

But Loki, ever self destructive, sits down next to him anyway.)

And Thor's last words to Loki were this:

"You really are the worst brother."

And the words are vile and cruel, forces up because he's angry, and why shouldn't he be? Loki should back down, because he clearly knows these people, and he's pretending, always pretending, and they don't have the freakin' Tesseract--

(and Loki, always so self destructive, holds out the Tesseract anyway)

(and how could he ever live that down? Knowing that the last thing he said to his sibling was not some sort of placation or thank you, but an accusation and desire to wound. Because Loki withheld something else from him, and now he's dead--)

So when the ship starts to explode, wounded and in terrible pain, Thor drags himself to Loki's corpse and collapses on top of it with regret. And he clings to it, hand fisted in the clothing, burying his head against Loki's chest.

Because he can protect his brother's body, can't he? If he's no longer allowed to protect his mind?

He'll keep this corpse safe. Or they can die together.

[jae-writes-fanfiction]

Loki x f!Reader  -   3140 words  -  Part 1 of 10 

Warnings: Female Protagonist is attacked/in a fight with males. Language, and implied sexual dreams/content. 

Notes: This is a longer story, new parts every Wednesday and Sunday, let me know what you think!

Summary: Ousted from her home, the newly labeled “Bastard Queen” arrives in Asgard confronted with an arranged marriage and an inhospitable environment eager to chew her up and spit her out.

The dower portrait of your mother hung over the dark throne room, a specter between you and your father. He reclined drunk over the ornately carved mahogany throne, his dressing gowns strewn open across his grotesque chest. For the first time in days, you were free from your chambers.

Your mother’s body wasn’t cold when he demanded you be locked in your chambers. No amount of spells, incantations or hexes could quell the grief that hung over you. Days passed listlessly while confined, with each dawn the hate grew behind your eyes and seeped into your veins until it boiled your blood and inhabited every part of your being. Per-tradition, you were now Queen. Even if the repulsive pig draped across your throne wouldn’t abdicate, the title of Queen was yours and any neighboring realm or kingdom would recognize that enough to aid your efforts in disposing him.

“Ah, the bastard Queen!” He greeted you, spitting a wad of tobacco at your feet.“As your father, I hope your time alone has calmed your hysterics. He propelled himself up, standing brazenly before you. “Loosing your mother-“ he faltered as if her ghost caught his guilt ridden attention, “was an unexpected tragedy. And the world isn’t safe for you to rule unmarried, especially with the dubious conditions of your birth.”

Your tongue lay heavy in your mouth, thick with anger and cautiously preventing the bile creeping up your throat. You were a woman grown in truth, but the softer curve of your stomach and thighs made you appear younger. Memories of horrid state dinners crosses your mind, his voice like the sound of rotten soggy wood crumbling, mocking your softness and your size wondering if you were the true born daughter of such a witch, why you didn’t change your shape.

Your mother would always rebuke his insults, as the Queen and a powerful Witch she would pass on her legacy to you just as her mother had. It wasn’t like passing on a sword or a crown but like a flowering inside you, one that discovered things and places inside you that would’ve remained hidden for women outside the blood-line, those not favored by the Goddess.

As he slunk back you surveyed the crumbling room, once so alive with diplomats and feasts the gold had faded from the room through the course of your mother’s short and sudden illness.

There were two of his guards at the back of the hall, beyond the throne, one behind your back poised by the door, and any number of them waiting behind it. You were surrounded, forced to listen to his ramblings.

“I’m certain it was no intention of your mother’s for you to rule unwed. As it stands, she had made provisions for you.” The way his eyes sneered told you that he had made provisions in her name. His audacity loosened your tongue.

“You false, manipulative cur. The women of my family have ruled alone for centuries. When we take a companion it is our decision to award them the title of consort and nothing more. Anything else,” you gestured at him and the forged document he held out to you, “is treason.”

‘Treason’ hung in the air, sparking icy electricity to reverberate in the syllables. The King Regent, had been accused of treason and all the proof was in the lopsided crown he wore as if it was his.

Behind you, the guard at the door unsheathed his sword his hands fumbling to stay quiet amid the deafening tension.

“Silence! You’ll respect your Father and your King. I will see all your mother’s wishes are carried out to the letter. She signed a contract for your marriage. Part of a new, trade treaty.”

The line of his smirk stoked the fire coursing through your veins.

“What of her will? Oh kind and benevolent father,” you mocked him, “will you follow that?”  The square of your shoulders never wavered, the resolution unsettling the would-be-tyrant.

“Your mother was not well when she wrote that will, I’m conducting an investigation of her private chambers for a version free of manipulation.”

The only private rooms in the castle were your mother’s sanctuary. Where she taught you how to read from spell books over candle light, how to sense the energy in the air and honor the great stars above who blessed your craft. The last tangible reminder of her legacy, corrupted by his filthy hands. He wouldn’t find another will, but you knew looking at the scroll in his hand, he could fake one.

“If you’re quite done interrupting. I’ve already asked your lady’s maid to prepare your things. You’re leaving within the hour.”  He tried not to smile at the shock on your face, forcing the scroll into your hands.

‘By the Order of Queen Rowena, this document once signed promises the hand of my daughter to whomever her benefactor prefers. Due to her dubiously base position I only ask she be treated according to her status therein.’

By the Gods, he’d doomed you. The arrangement of a benefactor for the Queen of an entire kingdom, as if she was a pauper deserving only to serve some fat tax collector until he chose to marry her off for a better piece of property. The language was cold, distinctly unlike your mother’s letters which were always touched by a little magick to ensure a safe delivery. You didn’t recognize the signature next to her’s at the bottom.

You flinched feeling his rank breath on your ear. “See there little bastard? Your mother’s mark. And next to it...that of Odin, Allfather, King of Asgard.”

Your heart dropped, to instruct another royal family, one of considerable power to treat you according to a base status was pleading you to slavery. What use would they find for a commoner in their court?

The Allmother had been a reliable ally of your mother. Although your magicks came from different sources, there was much to learn from each other. By all the gods you prayed she still lived, and could recognize the only child your mother had been so proud of.

Your breathing hitched as he turned to walk away. The fire licked down to your fingertips urging you on to knock him down, the crown flying off his greasy hair. As soon as the blow fell, you felt guards rush and pull you back by your arms, prepared to drag you out of the throne room.

“You vile creature- I hex thee,” your voice trembled with anger as you struggled against the guards intending to finish your curse at any cost.

“To a miserably short life. Filled with all the pain and death you cast upon my mother! You will die forsaken by all in a crumbling and decaying castle, left for the rats to feast upon until even the villages by the river can smell the foulness of your corpse!” As the guards drug you screaming from the room you offered one last promise, “you can’t kill us both!”

He screamed something to the guard dragging you, but the waves of blood pounding in your ears drowned them out. To seal the curse you bit your lip and let the blood trail down your face and to the floor.

Even if you had to murder your way back here, for your mother’s sake, for her memory, you’d see him in ruin.

The euphoria from completing the hex was the last thing you felt before something crashed into your skull, turning the world to black forcing you to the ground like one of the ancient pillars already starting to rot inside the throne room.

You awoke confused in the back of a stage-coach. Your lady’s maid, Halla holding your head in her lap, ensuring the injury wasn’t bumped as you were forced away from home, and into the uncertainty of the future.

The Allfather sat proudly as he called court to session. With a short wave of his hand the room emptied save for his sons, and a few members of the royal guard. Thor and Loki silently approached their father, watching lines of worry trace the corners of his eyes, and the weakened strength of once mighty hands.

“My sons, I’ve grown tired these past months,” his voice no longer sounded like triumph but rather the soft solitude of an ancient and forgotten text. “It is time I find something to do with the two of you.”

Thor stepped forward, his cape twisting around his body as an interruption. “Father we’ve spoken on this. I cannot lead our people properly, while so much of my attention is on earth.” Thor thought of Jane for a fleeting moment, of her silky brown hair and the passion behind her eyes at any given moment. “I haven’t changed my mind, not even in light of recent events,” he said lowly referring to the end of their relationship.

Odin chuckled, “What to do? One son who will not rule, and one that would if the people trusted him.”

Loki permitted the corner of his mouth to flicker into a smile. Of course he should rule, no one was better suited for the art of negotiation than he and his silver tongue. He forced his smile back into a tight-lipped line. After they had returned victorious, public opinion opened up to the idea of changing towards the once wayward prince. Loki wanted nothing more than to leap at his second chance at destiny, only restricted by the lingering fears of people too sheltered to understand the duality of his nature.

“Since I haven’t faded from this throne yet; I’ve arranged provisions for you both, and our Kingdom.” Shakily Odin came to his feet and unfurled a treaty, he skimmed quickly.

“Queen Rowena wrote offering an open trade agreement and alliance. If you recall, she was your mother’s particular friend.”

The ghost of their mother covered the room in her memory with the reminder. Loki barely remembered the two women meeting over ancient tomes while, he and Thor played as children.

“As such, despite the strange nature of the letter, I agreed. Whatever doubts I hold, are inconsequential compared to the trust Frigga placed with Rowena.”

Thor chuckled heartily, “Then we must celebrate! Their Kingdom is prosperous indeed, and this alliance shall foster success for ages to come!”

Thor’s eyes were bright, his mind already turning over different meads and ales to be prepared, and friends to be gathered. Loki, felt an uncomfortable air enter the Palace. Distrust swept up his spine urging him to ask, “And what, dear father, pray-tell have we promised in return?”

Odin eased himself back on the throne, weaving finality and authority in his words, “The fostering, and appropriate marriage for her daughter, at my sole discretion.”

Thor and Loki shared a glance neither of them entirely comfortable with this arrangement. On Asgard marriage was more of a celebratory declaration than a bartering chip, and although it had never been voiced, each brother thought they and their hearts alone would make that decision.

Their displeasure must’ve been plain, as Odin rebuked them, asserting his place as their King, and Father. “This is for the good of our people, for whom sacrifices must be made.”

“Regardless of who I choose: You are our people’s future, which this arrangement secures. Just because she is your wife doesn’t mean you cannot take another, or that you must have anything to do with her!” He roared at the two princes, filled with all the righteous hellfire of an outdated and fading tradition.

He flung the scroll at their feet, snarling. “Her only use is in the propagation of our line! Read for yourself how little this creature means to her own people.”

Loki knelt and retrieved the parchment, fingers tracing the words. He knew their magick was different from his, but the words and their signature held none. Unusual for a contract signed by such a renowned sorceress.  

Thor approached quietly his eyes darting over the page hurriedly, concern growing with each line. “Father, that was not written by who you think. Even I wouldn’t send such an informal and indifferent letter.” For a moment Odin seemed to hear his firstborn. Only to strike his staff off the ground in frustration. And all of a sudden, they didn’t recognize the man sitting before them.

Age and loss had warped the caring father: who treasured an orphan child in hopes of peace, who enforced responsibility upon his sons, who loved a woman so dearly her loss nearly broke him.

The tall oak doors behind them groaned open, a small herald darting into the room.

“Your highness?” He squeaked, “You had instructed we bring the girl in... w-would you rather we showed her to her chambers?” His eyes ran from face to face assessing the tension, trying to find a way where it didn’t explode in the face of a very tired guest.  

Odin huffed and wildly motioned for his sons to stand aside him, as if the entire court would be reentering the room.

“No, bring the bitch in,” he growled tempted to throw something at the sniveling man.

You took that as your entrance cue. Unfortunately the Allfather wasn’t accustomed to being quiet. You couldn’t hate him for the assessment, your father had bartered you as a bitch no better than the ones that bore the hunting dogs running around outside the palace. Fortunately, you’d heard worse. Mumbling the spell for a small gust of wind, you willed the heavy doors to glide open.

You walked with your hips, slinking towards the throne like a hungry cat temporarily satiated.The soft silk of your skirts parted soundlessly for your steps, the loose lacing on the bodice allowing the full swell of your waist and hips to shape the burgundy gown. The dainty lace swath covering your bust was sheer enough to outline your figure in a manner still deemed respectable. Although for all your worth on that parchment, you could’ve strut in naked. Your proud shoulders, confident gait, and stoic expression contrasted all the gentility you learned as a crown-princess.

The princes watched your approach, enamored by the grace and power held inside such a soft looking woman, of purportedly low birth. There was a touch of something behind your eyes that caught their attention and gave more credence to their thoughts of foul play.

You stopped the appropriate distance from the throne, for a supplicant and steeled your heart against your fears. Daring instead to walk closer, eliciting a shocked gasp from the guards and servants present. You almost laughed at the audacity, any other queen or king would’ve committed no social sin in approaching.

Creating a pleasant softness to the harsh expression on your face, you offered a placating smile to the king.

“Allfather,” you acknowledged, curtsying low to the ground. For the memory of your mother, you wouldn’t let them think you were raised to disrespect kings.

As was custom you kept your head bowed, as he spoke softly to his sons, before formally introducing you.

“May I welcome you to Asgard Princess-“

Your spine prickled and your body stood to its full height unknowingly eliciting another hushed gasp as you met the hard gaze of the elderly king.

“Actually,” you interrupted gently allowing your circlet to glimmer proudly in the light, “it’s Queen.”

Silence crept over the room as if a sudden plague had descended and struck its inhabitants dumb. The confusion on his father’s face prompted Thor to step in, ever the peacemaker.

He crossed the space between you in long jovial strides, “My Queen, it is an honor. Our mother spoke highly of your’s.”  His sincerity struck you off guard and for a moment you were there, back in the gardens between the two women pouring over ancient languages.

“Yes, I remember their friendship fondly,” you said smiling at Thor. His genuine compassion cooling the lingering rage itching in your blood.

“And why has your Queen Mother not accompanied you? Is she well?” Odin asked glaring at your departure from tradition.

“My mother is dead,” you muttered icily returning the glare, “Her consort, my father, has usurped the crown.”  Odin’s fury became evident. He was not accustomed to being played for a fool, or getting dragged into the political messes of other kingdoms.

“We recently lost our mother as well,” Loki said turning the attention from his father’s building frustration. He softly approached you, and gently took your hand in his. “We offer our complete condolences,” he said leaving the whisper of a kiss along your knuckles.

You smiled at the gesture and muttered a small sign of appreciation, dripping with all the sorrows and exhaustion of the day.

Hearing your tiredness the princes glanced back at their father, Thor electing to speak on your behalf.

“If it pleases you Father, our Lady is exhausted from the journey and heavy with grief. Might we escort her to her chambers, so that she may rest and better consult with us tomorrow?”

You almost chuckled, Thor had to be the older child. He held enough favor to demand things in the form of a question, so his father might consider something he dreadfully opposed. Your focus was held in studying the princes faces, the sound of their voices fading along with their father’s as your mind tired. You didn’t notice until they gently started leading you from the room, that Loki’s hand still held yours.

The walk to your room was non existent as exhaustion swept you into its arms. The quiet “farewell’s” and reassurances a distant memory you weren’t sure had happened.

Your eyes closed quickly whisking you into a deep sleep, your energy all but spent on the day’s interactions and incantations. You dreamed of a smokey room, deliciously cold enveloped in the sounds of a storm. A thousand soothing hands ran over your weary body relaxing every inch of your skin, tracing the soft curves of your body leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

Had you been awake your mouth would’ve run dry in anticipation, your thighs rubbing together as your excitement peaked. You felt nails rake down your back, and the ghost of a hand over your throat. Even dreaming you didn’t see your lover, just felt their body against yours, hands and mouths racing across your skin molding you into a symphony of sinful sounds that pushed your mind into the sweetest oblivion.

You could’ve swore as the dream faded into deeper sleep, you felt someone’s arms snake around your waist, holding you. Through the night the faint smells of smoke and rain hung around your bed, as you knew it would when you awoke clinging into your skin until it felt like a part of the woman you were becoming.

[makerofrunevests]

Decoy

In response to @goblin-overlord‘s request that I write a fic in which Loki used a decoy in Infinity War :)

_______________________________________________________________________

“Your brother is angry,” Mantis said softly, her eyes vast. She took a step closer to where Loki sat near a window of the Guardians’ ship, her fragile antennae drooping. “He is angry that you pretended to die.”

Loki continued watching a comet shoot past them, towards an unlucky distant realm. “Thank you for informing me,” he said.

They were both well aware that Thor had shoved him against control paneling so hard that they had had to delay flight for a day to repair broken buttons and switches.

Mantis sat down beside him on the bench, folding her hands in her lap. Loki thought of rising and leaving, but decided not to. Her quiet analysis was better than listening to Drax bellow and Quill blare slightly aged Midgardian music, and it was far better than watching Thor try to usurp Quill’s leadership.

The god and the empath were silent while the comet became a spark and then vanished. Then the ship tilted and jerked back to being level, making Mantis, whose feet did not touch the floor, almost fall off the bench. Loki automatically steadied her, frowning at the shouts that accompanied and followed the leveling.

“You need to watch where we’re going!” Rocket yelled from the front. “Not watch comets!”

“I was watching!” Quill yelled back, even louder than the raccoon. “Both! I’m a trained driver!”

Loki rolled his eyes. Cacophonous fools. He heard a soft whimper and looked at Mantis, who had pressed her hands over her face. Her sudden distress baffled him, but before he had reacted in any way save opening his mouth to speak, it was gone. Her hands descended to her lap, and she looked up at him with great pity.

He raised an eyebrow.

Mantis blinked. “I feel feelings, when I touch people,” she explained, her voice quiet and fast. “And you have many feelings, feelings of sadness and--and rejection.”

Loki subtly moved farther from her on the bench. “My apologies,” he stated, unapologetically, and frowned at a distant planet. It had not been her fault that she had touched him, but she might have kept his feelings to herself. He had not known she was an empath before now.

Mantis nodded as solemnly as if his tone had been serious. “I would like to know,” she said. “What happened. Because you would not so mourn that your brother is angry, if you had meant to pretend to be dead. How did you stay alive when Thanos broke your neck?”

Her dainty eyebrows rose as she asked the question, and she touched her own neck.

Loki frowned slightly as he looked at her. She was more inquisitive than he deemed a stranger should be; but he appreciated that she presumed him innocent. “By not being the one whose neck he broke.”

“Whose neck did he break?!” Mantis asked, already almost forgetting to breathe.

“A dead warrior’s. The Titan had consecrated himself to halving.” Loki scratched his palm as if it were itchy, although it was not.  “As I dare say you know.”

Mantis nodded. “He turned me into dust,” she said, too cheerfully. “It was interesting!”

Loki nodded, deciding not to react to her description. “He intended to kill Thor. But I thought it likely that if he slew me, he would spare Thor, and I was certain that he would kill me if I attempted to kill him. So I determined to stab him. I all but trod on a corpse as I went to sally forth--and conceived a better plot.”

He paused dramatically because Mantis was a wondrously riveted listener. Both her antennae were glowing with the suspense.

“I possessed a few wisps of the Eternal Flame, and I bestowed them on the dead warrior. He rose and obeyed me. I clad him in an illusion of myself, and sent him forth.”

Loki paused again, undramatically. He had seen all that his illusion had seemed to be seeing, and seen it again in nightmares. “It’s hardly necessary to relate our dialogue in detail. Suffice it to say that I implied to Thor that this was unreal, infuriated the Titan, and re-created the illusion of myself in every instant of the Titan strangling my deceased decoy.”

“So the illusion would not break,” Mantis commented sotto voce, correctly. “Why did you not let it break after the Titan left?”

“Because I could not,” Loki said, truly, and hoped both Mantis and himself could believe that. “The Titan’s high priest was a master of magic, and would not leave a fresh-fallen enemy unwatched.He would have reported my deception, and his master would have returned to ensure both my death and Thor’s.”

Mantis nodded, without skepticism. “Where did you go after it exploded? Thor was the only living person we saw when we came to help.”

“Some bit of the ship struck my head in the explosion, and when I was again conscious, I was flying through a tunnel of light and darkness.”

“I would not like to awake in such a place,” Mantis noted sympathetically. “Where did you land?”

Loki suddenly smiled. “Jotunheim, oddly enough.”

“The realm to which we are taking you.”

He nodded. “An icy realm, of which I happen to be the rightful king. I fell into a deep snowbank, and before I regained my feet was found by half a dozen Jotun hunters, who expected me to be an iron meteorite and were remarkably disappointed. They would have killed me, had I not revealed that I possessed the Casket Of Ancient Winters, which would save their realm, and which only a master of magic can wield. And thus--I am now King of Jotunheim.”

Mantis clapped enthusiastically. “You are good at surviving disasters!”

Loki laughed, both amused and pleased by her applause. “I really can’t dispute that.”

“Why didn’t you tell Thor you were alive? And why were you on Alfheim?”

“I knew not where he was, and I could not leave Jotunheim due to its utter lack of airships. As for why I was on Alfheim, we advanced last month to the point of possessing an airship constructed of native materials, and I was seeking an alliance with the Alves--alone, because Alfheim is too warm for my people. The ship perished when I attempted to leave Alfheim, and so I hired your captain to transport me home.”  

Mantis nodded, and looked at him thoughtfully, head tilted. He let her ponder whatever she was pondering.

“I am Groot! I am Groot!” came faintly from the other end of the ship.

“I’m not ‘grumpy,’” Thor answered the tree, grumpily, and Mantis leapt to her feet.

“I will tell him all of what you told me, and then he will not be angry!” she exclaimed, and darted off before Loki could stop her.

Loki sighed, and rose to find some other part of the ship to be in.  Thor would not be angry with Mantis, but he would think she was unintentionally echoing lies, and would deem it his duty to be furious with his brother for “abusing the trust of the innocent,” or something of the sort.

He could hear Mantis speaking, but her voice was so quiet and she was speaking to enthusiastically that he could not tell what she was saying. As he reached the ladder to the lower deck, he heard Thor’s loud footsteps and looked back to see Mantis holding Thor’s hand and all but dragging him towards Loki. “I have made him not be angry!” she said hopefully.

Thor did not look angry, but he looked as if he was not anything else either. Loki shook his head. If Mantis had sedated Thor, this would be as useless as talking to him while he was asleep. “Thank you, but--”

“You weren’t trying to make me think you dead?” Thor asked, and Loki realized that he was not sedated. He was dumbfounded.

Loki turned to face him, deadpanning, “You’re as brilliant as ever, brother.”

“That was sarcasm,” Mantis commented, to nobody in particular, and then burst into tears.

After a moment Loki realized she was because she was holding Thor’s hand, and his expression softened. He walked towards Thor. “I did imply that I intended a renaissance.”

Thor nodded, gently pulling his hand away from Mantis, who stopped crying straightaway. “I was having a hard time focusing on details,” he said. “With my little brother about to be killed.”

Loki felt a lump rise in his throat. He hadn’t liked for Thor to call him “little brother,” but after a decade of his never calling him that….

Mantis blinked tears out of her eyes and smiled proudly as the brothers hugged. “Reconciliations are full of such happiness!” she whispered.  

[mandowh0re]

Baby For a Week

Day 1: Part 1

Fandom: Avengers MCU

Summary:  Loki decides it would be funny to turn Peter into a two year old, thrusting Tony into the life of an actual parent for a week. Is he ready?

Word Count: 1652

Warnings: Swearing, fluff!!!!!

Comments: I just started clinicals for my phlebotomy course and I’m there from 8a-4:30p and then I’m working after that from 5:30p-10:30p so I’m basically just dragging my corpse around pretending to be awake. This is why the quality of this is not my best, so I sincerely apologize. Please go easy on my soul.

Happy Reading!

Day 1.1/ Day 1.2/ Day 2.1/ Day 2.2

“I swear, I will turn you into a frog if you make one more of those ‘vine’ references.” Loki hissed.

“Oh come on, Mr. Loki! They’re fun! And you won’t turn me into a frog.” Peter giggled.

Loki rolled his eyes, “I suppose not a frog, they are ugly and also quite annoying.”

“Ohh can you turn me into a dog??” Peter asked, bouncing in his seat.

“Peter, stop instigating him. He’s not going to turn you into anything.” Tony said, taking another sip of his coffee.

“Oh come on, Mr. Stark! Wouldn’t it be cool to see what it’s like to be a dog?”

“No, not really. Can’t say I’ve ever thought about it. Plus, you’re a handful already. I don’t want to see what you’d be like as a friggin poodle or some shit.”

“I was thinking about a pit bull-“

“Fuck no.” Tony shut that shit down quick.

“But they’re so cute!”

“Don’t turn this into another argument on whether or not you can have a dog, because the answer is still no.”

Peter crossed his arms and pouted.

Tony immediately averted his eyes to avoid Peter’s (conveniently named) puppy dog eyes.

“God, I’m glad I didn’t have to raise you as a child. You would have had me whipped.”

Loki raised an eyebrow, “Now that’s an interesting idea.”

Both Tony and Peter’s heads snapped towards the God.

“What??” They both yelled.

And suddenly, Peter was surrounded by a green glimmer…

And he was shrinking.

Tony dropped his (now empty, thank God) mug and it shattered on the floor, “Loki!”

But before he could say anything else, Loki was gone and so was Peter.

“Peter??”

Sniffle.

Tony ran around the kitchen island the kid and Loki has been sitting at and found a baby on the floor, sniffling and rubbing his eyes.

“What the fuck?” Tony took a step towards the child, kneeling down to him.

When the child turned to face Tony, big brown doe eyes stared back at the older man.

“‘Ony!”

“Peter?”

The baby pushed himself up to his feet and took a wobbly step towards Tony before falling forwards.

Tony caught the child, stood up, and set him on his hip.

The baby squealed and clapped, “‘Ony!”

Tony rolled his eyes, “Yup. Definitely Peter.”

Tony tightened his grip on the now baby Peter and tilted his head up slightly, “FRIDAY, where’s Thor?”

“Thor is currently in his quarters.”

“Alright, let’s go see Mr. Thor, bud.”

Peter clapped in response, “‘Or!”

Tony entered the elevator, pressing the button for the floor with everyone’s room.

He walked out once the elevator stopped, taking determined steps towards the god’s door.

Bang bang bang

Tony hit the door forcefully to get Thor’s attention, but immediately regretted it when Peter whimpered and covered his ears.

Shit.

“Sorry buddy, I forgot about your hearing.” He rubbed Peter’s back and placed a kiss on his hair at the same time the door swung open.

Tony froze, his lips still on Peter’s curls. He slowly looked up to the confused god.

“Stark? What are you doing with a babe?”

Tony rolled his eyes, “It’s Peter. Your annoying ass brother changed him into a baby and then disappeared.”

Thor’s face fell into that of annoyance, “I apologize, Stark. He is still learning what is appropriate behavior, and not using his magic as often as he used to is hard on him,” Thor’s eyes fell to Peter, who currently had his head buried in Tony’s neck, “Although, this is but a minor trick. He could have done much worse.”

“He likes Peter too much to actually hurt him,” Tony rolled his eyes, “Look, just go find him. I can’t return him to his aunt like this and I don’t know how to take care of a child.”

Thor smiled, “But Peter is a child, and you take care of him already-“

“Not a baby Peter, point break.”

Thor nodded, “I will set off to find my brother. I wish you luck in the meantime.”

Tony nodded and turned to walk away, “Thanks.”

He took Peter to his suite, setting him on his bed.

He looked at the boy, who was looking back at him while gnawing on his fingers.

“So, how old are you?” Tony spoke under his breath.

“Boss, if I may. It appears Peter’s physical condition is currently that of a two year old.”

Peter jumped, and looked around the room for the extra voice.

Tony raised an eyebrow, “And his mental condition?”

“That is hard to conclude. From what I have gathered since his transformation, Peter remembers people, but doesn’t seem aware of his current condition.”

Peter cocked his head, looking at Tony, “Fwiday?”

Tony kneeled down to the toddler, “Yeah bud, that’s Friday.”

Peter giggled and placed his hands on either side of Tony’s face, “‘Ony!”

He cringed at the wetness of the boy’s hands, but didn’t pull away, “Yes, Peter. Tony.” He chuckled, “Who knew it would take turning you into a baby to stop calling me ‘Mister Stark’?”

Just then Peter’s belly grumbled, and the boy made a pained expression.

“Right. Super metabolism. You hungry?”

Peter immediately nodded, reaching out to the older man as he stood up from his hunched position, back cracking.

“I’m getting too old for this shit.”

Tony grabbed Peter and set him on his hip, heading out to the kitchen.

He looked through the cabinets and fridge for something that a two year old could eat, and only then realized how utterly unprepared he was to take care of a child.

How long would Peter be like this? How long would it take Thor to find Loki? Would Peter remember anything? He wasn’t father material. He wasn’t even Peter’s father.

His heart rate quickened and a ringing buzzed in his ears. He grabbed at the scar that was forever embedded in his chest from the arc reactor.

“‘Ony?”

The small voice and the tug at his pant leg pulled him from his spiral, and he looked down to see two big brown orbs staring at him.

His heart rate steadied, and he felt his muscles relax, “Hey, Pete.”

Peter smiled and made grabby hands at the man, “Up!”

Tony laughed and scooped Peter up, spinning him around, making him giggle and squeal with delight.

“Tony?”

Tony froze in his movements, Peter held out at arms length in the air still giggling, and turned to see his wife in the doorway.

“Heeeyyy Pep!” Tony called nervously.

Pepper looked from the child in Tony’s arms to Tony, “What did you do?” She asked carefully.

“I didn’t do anything I swear!” He pulled Peter back to him, holding the child against him. For whatever reason, having baby Peter close to him kept his anxiety at bay.

“Then do you mind explaining to me why you have a toddler up here?” She took a cautious step forwards.

“Well I have him up here because it’s Peter, and Peter’s a toddler because Loki-”

“That explains it.” Pepper looked back to the child, whose hands were fisted in Tony’s shirt, but eyes were trained on her.

She immediately recognized the brown doe eyes and smiled.

Walking towards them, she placed a hand on Peter’s head, “Hey there Peter.”

“Peppa!” He shrieked.

Pepper giggled, “Yep,” She looked up to Tony, “How long will he be like this?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know. Loki disappeared and Thor’s looking for him now.”

“I assume he’ll stay here?”

“Well I can’t give him back to May like this.”

“May!” Peter yelled.

Pepper ignored child’s shriek, “Have you told her?”

“… No? If I’m being perfectly honest, I’m scared to.”

Pepper laughed, “You should be.” She slipped her hand in his pocket and grabbed his phone, handing it to him, “Call her. He is her nephew.”

Tony sighed and grabbed the phone, dialing May’s number.

It rang twice before she answered, “Hey Tony, is everything okay?”

“Why do you assume something’s wrong?”

“Well, usually when you call me, Peter’s got himself hurt.”

Tony winced, “Uh right. Well, Peter’s… Okay. He’s safe and healthy and-“

“What’s going on Tony?” May asked, her voice suddenly not playful.

Tony swallowed, sitting down on the couch. Peter was becoming heavy as he stood there.

“Well, the thing is… You know Loki, right?”

It was quiet for a moment.

“The god from another realm that destroyed half of New York and tried to take over the world that my kid has now befriended? Yes, unfortunately.”

Tony screwed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Well, he kind of, sort of, turned Peter into a toddler. I’m talking like, two years old, here. And now he’s in the wind, so we can’t really change Peter back until Thor brings him back.” He stumbled over the words as they tumbled out of his mouth.

May was quiet for a moment before she sighed, “I guess that’s better than him actually getting hurt. But Tony, watching a two year old is a full time job and I can’t just stop going to work until this gets fixed, I-“

“I know, May. I know, I’ll watch him until this is fixed.”

He heard a small laugh on the other side, “You think Peter’s a handful at 16? If he’s anything like he was when he was actually two, you’re in for a rude awakening.”

Tony sighed, “Great, thanks. And you can come up here to see him anytime you want. I can send Happy for you. Just let me know.”

“Oh I will. Thank you, Tony.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

He hung up the phone and turned to Peter, who was currently standing next to him on the couch, peering over the back waiting for Pepper to come back out from the bedroom.

“Alright, squirt. We’re gonna need a few things if you’re staying like this.”

Peter looked at Tony with wide eyes, “Potty.”

****

Iron Dad tag list: @tranquility-or-chaos​ @a-black-pegasus​ @phiauniverse @justsomeone-notimportant​

Baby For a Week tag list: @sirasslessunicorn​ @muggle-who-lived​ @thefourthnorn​ @jolandax13 @justsomeone-notimportant​ @thegraceofme​ @generalsuitcaselightflap @corkeecoderyt​ @kristin5687​ @thatfakepoison​ @mayfernandar5​ @pityandchiil​ @quirkyoracle @jake-the-snake-from-state-farm​ @ironfamjam​  

If there’s a strike-through it means I wasn’t able to tag you, sorry!!

[fanfic-collection]

Vampire: Loki x Reader - Pt 24

Vampire Tag list: catalinaacosta , starscreamloki , dream-reaper , hufflepuff-always-and-forever , portietomednalynn , all-these-wonderful-things , jayyx3oxo , littlelokilover  , jessiejunebug , littlelokilover , vanessaaaasdfghjkl  , lokislilslut , thatmemequeen , luisaskywalker , tadashi-dash , kcd15 , spideypooler03 , memmucci , harrymewmew , katgirl05 , nobody0660

Now I just feel like the quality has dropped and it feels rushed and *grumpy face* hopefully that is not the case and you guys enjoy, I’m very critical...

Holding his hand under the running water, Loki seemed to enjoy the sensation of the warmth rushing over his fingers.

When the tub filled, he went back into the bedroom and lifted you carefully from the bed.

“I'm doing better.” You mumbled as he carried you into the bathroom and set you on the edge of the sink's counter. Stars still danced across your vision as you sat upright, swaying slightly. You gripped the counter tightly, your knuckles pale.

Loki stood before you, hesitantly looking you over. “Your clothes are covered in blood, both yours and his, darling.”

You shivered, thinking of Zale touching you. Grimacing you tried to lift your shirt over your head but maintaining your balance at the same time was too much. Loki pressed himself to you, allowing you to lean against him as he helped peel off your outerwear.

“Do we really have time for this?” You asked, closing your eyes as he worked the shirt over your head.

Loki bit his lip as he helped you out of your trousers. “I'm still thinking of how best to return Thor. I can multitask.”

You managed a weak laugh as he lifted you into the air and gently placed you in the tub. The water was warm, very warm, almost too warm, but you could almost feel your blood circulation improve. Only now did you realize you were cold as well. Loki sat on the edge of the tub, gaze flickering down at you from time to time. He shifted shyly, nervously, as he seemed to do his best to give you privacy.

With every ounce of your strength, you reached for the various soaps, wiping away at the blood until the water was tinged pink. Your hair was matted in places with blood and you grimaced as you washed it. The steam rose from the heat of the water and you found yourself growing sleepy once more. Your eyelids started to sag and you felt yourself drifting off.

“Stay awake, love.” Loki whispered, pulling you upright in the water and helped massage the soap into your skin and hair.

You hummed mildly, “Water's too warm.”

Loki turned on the cold water and you shivered awake as it mixed with the other water.

“Thanks.” You gasped, moving away from the fresh cold water and seeking refuge in the warmer water.

Loki nodded absently.

“Tell me what you're thinking.”

“Everything is so clear.” He replied, looking around the bathroom. The bathroom was steamy and fogged up from the hot water but you imagined that wasn't what he was referring to.

“Isn't that good?”

Loki sighed, “It gives me clarity to worry over Thor and the fact that I'm struggling on what to do for him.”

“Well, first we have to find him.”

“Zale will know.”

“Will he tell?”

Loki smirked, “I have ways of finding out.” He extended his long fingers, twisting them about as green magic flowed through them.

You nodded, sinking low in the water and staring up at him.

Loki turned back to you, “Warm water is good for circulation but I fear you don't have much in the way of blood to circulate and it could prove detrimental to you.”

Again you nodded, headed feeling like it was flopping in the water. “I could see that.”

“But we find Thor, and I suppose much of how we go forward will have to be assessed when we see how he is.” Loki smoothed his hand over his forehead and sighed, “I fear the clarity will fade then.”

“I'll do my best to help.”

Smiling down at you, Loki pressed a kiss to your wet hair and pulled away. “I'll get some things for you to change into then help you out. We have a vampire to interrogate.”

-

Fully dressed and mostly dry, Loki assisted you walking down the stairs. Your legs felt shaky and weak and spots threatened to cloud your vision but you fought on.

Setting you down at the end of the hallway, Loki walked over to the bloodied mess that was Zale. The illusion of Loki vanished as Zale looked up at Loki lethargically. There was disdain in the vampire's eyes but he had too little energy to move and looked to be on the verge of sleep.

Loki crouched down before Zale and smirked at him. “How the mighty fall.” Loki murmured.

Zale continued to glare furiously, turning his head enough to glower at Loki.

Loki chuckled, “Where did your whores take my brother?”

“I suspect back to the nest.” Zale slurred out.

Loki nodded, “I figured as much, and where is that?”

“I won't tell you, you'll have to kill me first, you've nearly done it as is and then you'll never see your brother again.” Zale grinned triumphantly.

“Yes, I figured you'd say that.” Loki pressed his hand to Zale's forehead, Zale cried out in shock. For a moment, Loki stayed crouching, eyes seemingly very far away, then he pulled his hand back, stumbling upright.

Pressing his hand to his forehead, Loki blinked hard, shaking his head and body as he tried to clear his mind.

“What'd you do?” You asked.

“How?” Zale snarled, though there was no real strength behind it.

“I told you, I'm not just one of your beasts.” Loki replied coolly. He was quiet for a few moments. You could practically see his mind racing. “That last image?” Loki seemed hopeful yet uncertain, eyes searching Zale's face frantically.

“It wouldn't work on you.” Zale sneered with a hiss. “You're too far gone, you'd just go back to being a corpse.”

Loki nodded, “No matter.” Grabbing Zale by the collar of his shirt, Loki hoisted him in the air. For a moment he stood like that, gripping the weakened vampire. Then you blinked and they both vanished. Another second passed and Loki was back in the hallway, Zale nowhere to be seen.

“Where'd he go?” You asked, looking around from your seat on the ground.

“He's locked in the basement, among other things, he won't be moving.” Loki explained walking over to you and helping you upright. “If for some reason we make it to them and miss a rescue party, I'm not leaving you here alone.” He looped your arm over his shoulder and lifted you to your feet. More stars flashed across your vision and he helped walk you outside the house.

You were dressed in warmer clothes, more prepared for the cold weather outside, but it still took your breath away. Trudging along, Loki half carrying, half dragging you, the two of you made it a short distance down the path.

Loki crouched down, lowering you to his height at the same time. You were breathing heavily, already exhausted from the short trek.

“We're running low on time, there's not much night left.” Loki said.

“I'm sorry, I can't walk any faster, we have to get Thor back, are you sure it's smart that I come with you? I'll just slow you down.”

Loki shook his head, “No, I have another way but I was hoping to get closer before we used it. No matter. Just hold still.” Reaching his hand out to you and holding you close to his chest, Loki held you for a moment.

The world shimmered around you, a thousand colors swirling together. Then you blinked.

You were in an entirely different place.

Loki blinked several times, shaking his head stiffly before standing up. Slowly he smiled, that familiar half smile when he was pleased. “That's farther than I've ever gone before.” He flexed his arms, green magic swirling in his hand and grinned wider. “Wonderful.”

“Did we just teleport?”

“Yes, quite the distance too. Curious that this transformation affected my regular abilities.” Loki was still grinning, evidently quite pleased with himself.

You felt pleased for him, smiling back. Unsure if you should congratulate him or do something to support him, you stayed quiet.

Loki bent down and helped you to your feet again, guiding you through the forest. The two of you walked for a short distance before reaching a clearing and a massive mansion.

It was beautiful, clearly centuries old with gorgeous gothic architecture. It was maintained impeccably so that it appeared almost like new.

Except.

Except for the fires burning at various locations in the roof, along with screams from within.

Swallowing hard, you glanced at Loki who glanced down at you warily.

Storm clouds gathered in the sky, curiously directly over the house and nowhere else. Lightning seemed to strike from within the mansion, shooting out of the newly formed holes in the roof and walls, arcing magnificently into the sky. Each bolt of lightning was answered with a resounding crash of thunder.

Loki sighed, “Well, he is the god of thunder.” He muttered under his breath, watching as a vampire came running out of the house screaming.

A burst of green magic shot from Loki's outstretched hand and the vampire fell flat on their back, slowly struggling to a sitting position. Leaving you seated against a tree, Loki walked over to the vampire and hoisted them to their feet.

“What's happening?” Loki snarled.

The vampire trembled, his eyes wide as he stared up at Loki. “We had no idea!” He cried, pleading, “Lily and Liz said Zale wanted us to change him.” Loki blanched but the man continued, “He drank all the slaves, there's no one left. What is he? He can't control whatever is in him!”

Loki dropped the vampire to the ground. The vampire lay there trembling, not daring to pass Loki. Glancing down at the quivering vampire, Loki seemed to smirk, his eyes alight with the satisfaction of the awe he inspired.

Turning back to you, Loki sighed, “They turned him.”

“Oh no!” You gasped, hand flying to your mouth. “What, what now?”

Loki sighed again, “Well normally I would be horrified, but it seems there are ways of dealing with that. The only problem now is that he's a fledgling and nothing is going to satiate his thirst. Couple that with his berzerker tendencies as an Asgardian, and we have quite the mess on our hands.” More thunder and lightning boomed, accenting Loki's words.

Assuming the face of a long suffering younger brother, Loki walked up to the door and stopped. He held his hand up to the threshold and hissed as his hand tried to press through. Sighing once more, Loki turned around and walked away, coming over to stand beside you. “Well, I can't enter without an invitation, I guess we just have to wait for him to come out.”

“How'd you make that double of you?” You asked.

Loki frowned thoughtfully, “I wonder...”

A double of Loki appeared and walked across the clearing before the mansion and in through the front doors. The double vanished inside.

“Clever girl.” Loki beamed at you, squeezing your shoulder.

You smiled back, arms resting on your legs as you watched the house. More screams came within followed by another massive bolt of lightning.

Suddenly, Loki's clone came running out the front door, full speed at Loki.

Close on the clone's trail and crackling with lightning, came a fully fledged vampire Thor. Thor ran full speed chasing down the vampire, claws grasping desperately and mouth agape with fangs at the ready. Hand grasping the clone, the clone vanished and Thor stumbled to a stop, looking around confused.

“Brother think.” Loki said slowly, standing in the clearing and staring Thor down. “I know you have one focus but you're stronger than this.”

“I'm so thirsty.” Thor snarled, sniffing the air. His eyes fell on you, huddled next to a tree. The blue irises were bright red as he took off at a full sprint, rushing at you.

Loki held his hand out, as though uselessly attempting to stop Thor. Yet as soon as Thor passed Loki, Thor's eyes fell shut, completely asleep. He skidded along the ground a few meters before sliding to a stop directly in front of you. You flinched back, yelping softly as his mouth lolled open, a loud snore coming out.

“He's asleep?” You asked, scooting further into the tree so as to be away from Thor.

Loki nodded, walking over to Thor and kneeling down. “The sun is coming.” Loki glanced over his shoulder and up at the sky. The sky was indeed grey and rapidly growing lighter.

“How do we get back in time? Can you teleport again?” You scrambled to your feet and moved closer to Loki, “With both of us?”

Loki nodded, gripping Thor's wrist and your hand. For a moment nothing happened. Then once more the world shimmered and colors swirled together.

Loki slumped into the hard cold ground and you rushed to his side, shaking him awake.

At first he didn't respond, then slowly he began to rouse, body trembling as he pushed off the ground and struggled to stand. The two of you were a short distance from the manor and between the combined strength, or lack thereof, of you and Loki, the two of you managed to drag Thor to the entrance.

“You can come in.” You muttered to both of the brothers, just in case there was a limit on time or if the protection didn't recognize Thor living there. With no pain for Loki, and presumably the very unconscious Thor, the two of you crossed inside and you slammed the door shut.

Thor continued snoring obliviously to the world. Loki's legs trembled as he made it a few more steps before sinking to his knees and falling to the ground. After a moment, Loki rolled onto his back and groaned, staring up at the ceiling. “Two people.” He gasped out, “That far.”

The three of you lay in the entryway, all completely exhausted. From out of the corner of your eye, you could see signs of the sun fully rising.

“We're safe.” You whispered.

Loki nodded, slowly he rolled over onto his stomach and with trembling arms, pushed himself to his knees and then upright. He offered his hand to you and together the two of you stumbled up the long trek upstairs and to your room, both collapsing onto the bed.

“What about Thor?” You mumbled, thinking of him collapsed in the entryway.

Loki's eyes were closed and his voice was full of sleep as he slurred back, “He'll be fine. I put quite the sleeping spell on him, it'll keep him down for a time. In the evening we can focus on getting him better.”

Your eyes shot open, “There's a way to cure it?”

“I saw it in Zale's mind.” Loki inclined his chin ever so slightly, eyes still shut.

“Does that mean?” You trailed off, not sure how to ask.

“No. It reverts the vampire to as they were.” Loki swallowed hard, scrunching his eyes tighter, “I would be back to being dead.”

Slowly you rolled over on top of him, resting your head on his chest and hugged him as tight as your exhausted muscles would allow. “I'd take you as this any day.”

[tarithenurse]

I see you - ch. 3

Ch. 3 - (Don’t Fear) The Reaper

Pairing: eventually Heimdal x fem!reader Wordcount: 1318 Warnings: descriptions of injuries and fighting, language, angst?

Half carrying and half supporting Malik, you sidestepped the way to the back exit of the bus. Explosions were going off in the distance, each one sending rumbling tremors through the ground and into your body. You’d already heard them before you craned your neck past the last seat to look through the thick, tinted glass with the splinters and cracks forming a thickly woven spiderweb: heavily armoured and carrying a crossover between a gun and a spear, the aliens walking the wrong way, in your modest opinion. Crap. Looking down at Malik, you tried to put up as brave a face as he did. Double crap! At least the kid had noticed them yet, because all he was focusing on was staying upright in spite of the pain and the blood-loss that made his face ashen, void of any warm glow a kid like his should have.

Glancing out again, you saw the group of invaders had come to a halt, all of them swinging their heads slowly from side to side like serpents searching for prey. The moment you’d made the comparison, you realized they’d caught your scent. As if to confirm, the enemy closest to the bus reached up and yanked the vizor off. It had no nose in the grey-tinted face and the cheeks were more than simply sunken…it looked like they were missing, granting a view to a mouth full of sharp teeth-like structures. But its eyes were the worst. Small, beady, locked unblinkingly onto you. The clicking shriek of one of its fellows broke the trance, alerting all of them to something outside your field of vision.

…

Heimdal let go of a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Where the Chitauri had stood was now a raging fire, burning through the twisted limbs and corpses the explosion had created. Too close. The Midgardians were arriving, but it was a battle against an unstoppable river, and although their efforts were valiant, he could clearly see the growing desperation on their faces. None except Thor had faced such a foe.

I’ve sworn an oath to the All-Father, Heimdal reminded himself, not to interfere lest to save the prince. It was a test. Standing by idly as he watched innocents get slaughtered at the hands of an old antagonist. A host let by a former child of Asgard no less. Tearing his gaze away, Heimdal refound Loki atop the tower with the name of the Man of Iron upon it. The pale-faced trickster was standing face to face with his adoptive brother, from the looks of it finally listening to reason and the deepfelt hope laced into each word that fell from the blond Asgardian’s lips. Both the brothers and the watcher knew what was at stake: come willingly…or risk death. Many has tried to kill Asgardians and Frost Giants throughout the eons, finding it to be a difficult task. Not impossible, though. Loki appeared healthier than when he first came to the unprepared world, and the haunted look upon his face that made him pale, granting him a gaunt look, was due to something else than the fear of battle or even execution. Remorse flickered in the momentarily emerald eyes but was replaced with icy blue as quickly as the blade was slit between the ribs of the blond warrior.

To someone not familiar with the physique of the Asgardians, Heimdal’s lack of reaction might’ve appeared callous, but his people were hardy, and the cut would heal quickly, making it a symbolic gesture rather than carrying any tactical purpose. Mocking or pretence? Even as the slender form of the former prince rolled over the edge of the platform, Heimdal could not convince himself that it had been a brazen attempt to please someone else while avoiding to carry out an order…and order to kill anyone in Loki’s way. Lifting his eyes towards the distant sky, there was no higher in command to see, however.

…

It had been hard to part ways with Malik, but you’d managed to get him to a small group of people who were fleeing Manhattan, and one of them had turned out to be a doctor. She had looked at you as if you were crazy when you said you were going back. Who could blame her? No one in their right mind would volunteer to do that.

The idea of using the subway tunnels was appealing as you moved from overturned vehicles to broken entries where debris served as makeshift shields. Glancing over the rubble you saw the stairs leading down to the sheltering underground system, and you were about to sprint towards it when a large cloud of smoke and flames blasted from the passage, carrying trash and a horrible stench with the heat. Not using the tunnels. Instead, you hurried to the corner of the building and pressed your back against the concrete, trying to blend into the shadows.

Too far for you to reach in one sprint was a group of cops that were busy evacuating civilians and organizing some way of containing the invasive forces even if it seemed like a hopeless task. It didn’t deter them, and every once in a while, when one of them would look on the verge of giving up, he or she would glance towards the Park Avenue Viaduct. Up ahead on the bridge, was a strange sight. An odd group of people were assembled there, two of them were strangers to you, but one was easily recognizable. Captain America. Everyone knew him from the history books and seeing him and his friends in action, it made sense why people had considered him a hero because they made quick work of the deadly aliens that kept coming from all sides and dropping from the surrounding buildings.

A blinding array of jagged lightnings struck throughout the area simultaneously. Blinking against the flash that had been scorched on your retinas, it took a couple of seconds before you could make out the smoking corpses of what used to be aliens. Right then and there, no enemy was alive to challenge the small group of heroes who now had been joined by a large man wearing nothing less than a cape. It would’ve looked stupid on anyone else, but you had to admit it worked on this man. Not the time. Grabbing the opportunity, you made a beeline for the cops and were immediately put to work as soon as you’d stated your ability.

Perhaps that was what distracted you from the surroundings and the development. You vaguely noted the extra turmoil but were busy tending to a broken ankle until its owner pulled away, flinging himself sideways to the ground and dragging you along. Where you had stood a moment before, a large slab of concrete, with a splintering granite layer on one side, slammed into the ground with enough force that the police cars shuddered and you felt yourself bounce on the asphalt.

The cop was scrambling to tie a knot on the supportive fabric on his limb when a new shadow fell over him and you, just as you got onto your feet. There was no name for the monstrosity. Metal, flesh and bones in one messy construction was succumbing to gravity, allowing itself to fall onto the bridge right above the cops’ makeshift field post. You saw in slow-motion how the thinner end of the thing crushed the railing, spurring your body to leap towards the injured cop and shove him with all your might away from the debris and the extraterrestrial giant of whatever-the-hell-that-was. It wasn’t just something that collided with your shoulders and back. It was everything. You had time to realize that you felt no pain, even as you were flattened against the ground and the air knocked out of your lungs. You also saw an odd shimmer just as darkness took over.

[serana-darkmoon]

The Children of Loki

Written by Padriac Colum in 1920

The children of Loki and the witch Angerboda were not as the children of men: they were formless as water, or air, or fire is formless, but it was given to each of them to take on the form that was most like to their own greed.

Now the Dwellers in Asgard knew that these powers of evil had been born into the world and they thought it a good idea that the children of Loki should take on forms and appear before them in Asgard so that they might be recognized in the future. So they sent a messenger to Jarnvid, the Iron Wood, bidding Loki bring before the Gods the children born of him and the witch Angerboda. So Loki came into Asgard once more. And his offspring took on forms and showed themselves to the Gods.

The first, whose greed was destruction, showed himself as a fearful Wolf -- Fenrir he was named.

And the second, whose greed was slow destruction, showed itself as a Serpent. Jörmungand it was called.

The third, whose greed was for withering of all life, took on a form also. When the Gods saw it they were affrighted. For this had the form of a woman, and one side of her was that of a living woman and the other side of her was that of a corpse. Fear ran through Asgard as this form was revealed and as the name that went with it, Hela, was uttered.

Far out of sight of the Gods Hela was thrust. Odin took her and hurled her down to the deeps that are below the world. He cast her down to Niflheim, where she took to herself power over the nine regions. There, in the place that is lowest of all, Hela reigns. Her hall is Elvidnir; it is set round with high walls and it has barred gates; Precipice is the threshold of that hall; Hunger is the table within it; Care is the bed, and Burning Anguish is the chamber.

Thor laid hold upon Jörmungand. He flung the serpent into the ocean that engirdles the world. But in the depths of the ocean Jörmungand flourished. It grew and grew until it encircled the whole world. And men knew it as the Midgard Serpent.

Fenrir the Wolf might not be seized upon by any of the Æsir. Fearfully he ranged through Asgard and they were only able to bring him to the outer courts by promising to give him all the food he was able to eat.

The Æsir shrank from feeding Fenrir. But Tyr, the brave swordsman, was willing to bring food to the Wolf's lair. Every day he brought him huge provision and fed him with the point of his sword. The Wolf grew and grew until he became monstrous and a terror in the minds of the Dwellers in Asgard.

At last the Gods in council considered it and decided that Fenrir must be bound. The chain that they would bind him with was called Laeding. In their own smithy the Gods made it and its weight was greater than Thor's hammer.

Not by force could the Gods get the fetter upon Fenrir, so they sent Skirnir, the servant of Frey, to trick the Wolf into letting it go upon him. Skirnir came to his lair and stood near him, and he was dwarfed by the Wolf's monstrous size.

"How great may thy strength be, Mighty One?" Skirnir asked. "Couldst thou break this chain easily? The Gods would try thee."

In scorn Fenrir looked down on the fetter Skirnir dragged. In scorn he stood still allowing Laeding to be placed upon him. Then, with an effort that was the least part of his strength, he stretched himself and broke the chain in two.

The Gods were dismayed. But they took more iron, and with greater fires and mightier hammer blows they forged another fetter. Dromi, this one was called, and it was half again as strong as Laeding was. Skirnir the Venturesome brought it to the Wolf's lair, and in scorn Fenrir let the mightier chain be placed upon him.

He shook himself and the chain held. Then his eyes became fiery and he stretched himself with a growl and a snarl. Dromi broke across, and Fenrir stood looking balefully at Skirnir.

The Gods saw that no chain they could forge would bind Fenrir and they fell more and more into fear of him. They took council again and they remembered the wonder-work the Dwarfs had made for them, the spear Gungnir, the ship Skidbladnir, the hammer Mjölnir. Could the Dwarfs make a fetter strong enough to bind Fenrir? If they would do it the Gods would add to their domain.

Skirnir went down to Svartheim, the realm of the Dwarfs, with the request from Asgard. The Dwarf Chief swelled with pride to think that it was left to them to make the fetter that would bind Fenrir.

"We Dwarfs can make a fetter that will bind the Wolf," he said. "Out of six things we will make it."

"What are these six things?" Skirnir asked.

"The roots of stones, the breath of a fish, the beards of women, the noise made by the footfalls of cats, the sinews of bears, the spittle of a bird."

"I have never heard the noise made by a cat's footfall, nor have I seen the roots of stones nor the beards of women. But use what things you will, O Helper of the Gods.

The Chief brought his six things together and the Dwarfs in their smithy worked for days and nights. They forged a fetter that was named Gleipnir. Smooth and soft as a silken string it was. Skirnir brought it to Asgard and put it into the hands of the Gods.

Then a day came when the Gods said that once again they should try to put a fetter upon Fenrir. But if he was to be bound they would bind him far from Asgard. Lyngvi was an island that they often went to to make sport, and they spoke of going there. Fenrir growled that he would go with them. He came and he sported in his own terrible way. And then as if it were to make more sport, one of the Æsir shook out the smooth cord and showed it to Fenrir.

"It is stronger than you might think, Mighty One," they said. "Will you not let it go upon you that we may see you break it?"

Fenrir out of his fiery eyes looked scorn upon them. "What fame would there be for me," he said, "in breaking such a binding?"

They showed him that none in their company could break it slender as it was. "Thou only art able to break it, Mighty One," they said.

"The cord is slender, but there may be an enchantment in it," Fenrir said.

"Thou canst not break it, Fenrir, and we need not dread thee any more," the Gods said.

Then was the Wolf angry, for he lived on the fear that he made in the minds of the Gods. "I am loathe to have this binding upon me," he said, "but if one of the Æsir will put his hand in my mouth as a pledge that I shall be freed of it, I will let you put it on me."

The Gods looked nervously at one another. It would be good for them all to have Fenrir bound, but who would lose his hand to have it done? One and then another of the Æsir stepped backward. But not Tyr, the brave swordsman. He stepped to Fenrir and laid his left hand before those tremendous jaws.

"Not thy left hand -- thy swordhand, O Tyr," growled Fenrir, and Tyr put his swordhand into that terrible mouth.

Then the cord Gleipnir was put upon Fenrir. With fiery eyes he watched the Gods bind him. When the binding was on him he stretched himself as before. He stretched himself to a monstrous size but the binding did not break off him. Then with fury he snapped his jaws upon the hand, and Tyr's hand, the swordsman's hand, was torn off.

But Fenrir was bound. They fixed a mighty chain to the fetter, and they passed the chain through a hole they bored through a great rock. The monstrous Wolf made terrible efforts to break loose, but the rock and the chain and the fetter held. Then seeing him secured, and to avenge the loss of Tyr's hand, the Gods took Tyr's sword and drove it to the hilt through his underjaw. Horribly the Wolf howled. Mightily the foam flowed down from his jaws. That foam flowing made a river that is called Von -- a river of fury that flowed on until Ragnarök came, the Twilight of the Gods.