#forgive errors i didn't want to rewatch the whole movie so i might be forgetting important plot points

[monicashipslokius]

“Kneel.”

Loki looks at them, these simple mortal beings. So primitive. Like ants, running loose, lost without a queen. But they needn’t fear any longer. Loki is here, and will be their leader now. They will find purpose - glorious purpose - under their rule.

“Kneel!” Loki says again, louder, and finally they fall into line. One after the next, down to their knees, to praise -

“Um. Excuse me. Uh, sorry. This is awkward.” A man steps away from the rest. He’s wearing a dreary brown suit with a tie that needs fixing. Gray hair. Mustache. A typical, everyday Midgardian.

Loki should silence him at once. And yet - they still their hand. There’s something oddly... compelling about this fumbling oaf. Perhaps it’s the way he’s looking at Loki. Not with fear, but with interest. Curiosity. Almost a quiet understanding.

No one ever looks at Loki like that.

The man rubs the back of his neck. “It’s just that. Well. I think I might be your soulmate?”

Someone in the crowd shushes him.

Another asks, “Are you crazy?”

A woman hisses, “Mobius. There’s no way -”

The man - Mobius - glances back at her and shrugs. “So they’re ambitious.”

“They’re going to kill you.”

“Nah.” Mobius turns back to Loki. “Just a little pussycat.”

He starts forward, gently moving through the kneeling crowd, whispering, “Excuse me, pardon me, coming through,” on his way to the front.

Loki tracks his every step, watchful for any sign of trickery, but they can detect no magic on this mortal. The absolute gall of this man, to approach Loki - child of Asgard, god of mischief - as if they are equals.

Loki shouldn’t just silence him, they should scorch him from the whole of the realms.

But then Mobius smiles at Loki, a big, wide thing that twists Loki up inside. Perhaps they will wait to destroy him, if only for a moment, if only to hear him out. Loki considers themself a fair god, after all.

Listening. Then destruction.

“Speak, mortal,” Loki commands. “If that is what you desire. But know your life hangs on your words.”

Mobius looks at Loki, watching for a moment, smile never dimming. “Oh, yeah. You’re definitely the one.”

“I am all things,” Loki says, ever magnanimous.

Mobius points at them. “You’re my soulmate.”

Loki frowns. “I am not.” Then they frown harder. They know lies well, and that  felt like a big one.

But that couldn’t be.

“I have no soulmate,” Loki says, ignoring the familiar sting that comes with the words. Words repeated again and again, as all the seers in Asgard looked into their future and saw them standing alone.

Mobius’s smile softens. “Are you sure about that?”

No. Not really. How many years have passed since Loki last had the seers check? Is it possible... perhaps Mobius had been born in that time? He is but a mortal. How old could he be? 40 years? 50? The blink of an eye.

Mobius holds out a hand. “Wouldn’t you like to check?” That suit truly is ridiculous, outdated and well-worn. If they are soulmates, Loki will take him to Asgard at once and buy him -

Loki forces an abrupt stop to their own thoughts. This is deception, meant to shake them from their true purpose.

“Once I discover you are deceiving me, I will purge you from existence.”

“Okay, sure. Whatever you want.” Mobius waves his hand impatiently. “Isn’t worth trying? Then, you know, purge from existence and all that...”

“Mobius,” the same woman whisper-yells from the crowd.

Mobius rolls his eyes. “Work friend. She’s very protective.”

“She has reason to be,” Loki says, looking at that offered hand. At the long, steady fingers, the delicate wrist. Mortals are such fragile things. Beings to be conquered. Not loved.

And yet.

Loki lifts a hand. They rub their thumb and forefinger together. They will attempt a small touch for curiosity’s sake. Then, the promised destruction.

“Aren’t you afraid?” Loki asks.

“No. Excited, maybe. Not everyday you meet your soulmate.”

“You keep saying that.”

“I’m feeling confident.”

Loki swallows hard. Then they reach out. They don’t take Mobius’s hand, not fully. They merely brush the pad of one finger to the edge of his thumb.

It is enough.

Visions flood through their mind. Mobius laughing. Mobius taking Loki’s hand, pressing his lips to their knuckles, one after the next. Mobius leaning in and kissing them on their lips. Mobius pressing Loki against a wall, and Loki letting themself be pressed.

“I love you,” Mobius says under cover of darkness, in the light of day, out in the ocean on the back of some type of motorized water vehicle. “I love you,” again and again, filling the dark depths of Loki’s heart until it overflows, bursting with happiness. With immeasurable love.

Loki snaps back to the present and slowly, so slowly, withdraws their hand.

Mobius’s smile could light the whole city. “I knew it was you.”

Loki opens their mouth to speak, but what comes out is a gasped breath, very near a sob. The love from the vision has vanished, but the phantom feel of it has Loki wanting.

Deception. Has to be. But they are immune to enchantment. And there’s no magic on this man.

To be loved like that. To be held and... cherished. Even now, Mobius looks at them like they hold of all of his hopes and dreams. Loki wonders how they are looking back.

“It’s okay.” Mobius holds up both hands now, like placating a wounded animal. “I know it’s overwhelming.” Mobius takes a small step forward. Loki does too. Mobius is right there. A promise of a life Loki never thought they’d have - right there.

“Mobius,” Loki says, and the name is perfect on their tongue. They could say it a hundred times more, a thousand. They are desperate to. “Mobius.”

“I’m right here.” Mobius steps closer. Loki reaches and grabs his forearm, bunching a handful of that ugly sleeve into their fist. “I’ve got you.”

“You cannot imagine how long -”

“Step away from him,” comes a new, authoritative voice. This one, like Mobius, lacks fear, but unlike Mobius, is decidedly not Loki’s soulmate.

“We’re kind of in the middle of something,” Mobius says over his shoulder, to Captain America. “Could you give us a minute?”

Captain America does not give them a minute. “Release the citizen, Loki.”

“Wow, you are really misreading the situation,” Mobius says.

In the sky, a flying vehicle arms its weapons. Every nerve in Loki’s body stands on end, seeing Mobius in the way of it.

Loki yanks Mobius forward, closer to him, then behind him, shielding him with their body.

“Loki!” Mobius starts.

But its too late. Captain America is moving closer. Loki blocks some of his blows, misses a few others. He’s strong, but not on the level of a god. Not usually. But Loki keeps leaving themself open to protect the vulnerable mortal behind them. Loki doesn’t think Captain America would hurt Mobius, but the risk is too great. The cost is too high for Loki to guess wrong.

The sudden arrival of Tony Stark only makes matters more difficult.

When Loki raises their hands in defeat, Mobius storms around them.

“Mobius,” Loki says in alarm. Mobius is now in the way of far too many weapons. Does he not understand how fragile he is? Or how important?

“I got this, Loki,” Mobius tells them. To the others, “Now everybody hold on a minute.”

“Please move yourself to safety, citizen,” Captain America says.

“I’m perfectly safe right here.”

“Standing right there is how you get a knife in the back,” Tony Stark says.

“Loki won’t hurt me.”

“He must be brainwashed,” Captain America says.

Mobius huffs out a frustrated breath. “You aren’t listening. Loki is my soulmate.”

Tony Stark looks at Captain America. “Definitely brainwashed.” He clears his throat. “But I’ll bite. Who exactly are you?”

“Mobius M. Mobius.”

“Uh, huh. So your parents hated you,” Tony Stark says. Before Mobius can answer, Tony asks, “And what do you do, Mobius M. Mobius?”

“I’m a data analyst for a corporate conglomerate.”

“Right,” Tony Stark says. “Loki of Asgard forever bound to Mobius M. Mobius, the data analyst. Sounds fake, but okay.”

Mobius’s shoulders sink. “You don’t have to be rude about it.”

Annoyance flares hot under Loki’s skin. Mobius is perfect and how dare these simpletons insinuate otherwise. How dare they make him feel anything less than he is.

Loki takes a strong step forward, but Mobius catches sight of them first and places a hand on their chest, stilling them. Loki holds, only for Mobius’s sake.

“It’s no big deal,” Mobius says.

“They cannot speak to you like that. You are the soulmate of a god.”

“I’m not thrilled about it either. Data analysis is a respectable line of work. I’ve saved my company hundreds of thousands of dollars.”

Loki nods along, hoping they look impressed enough to spare Mobius’s feelings, when truly they have no idea what he is talking about. But whatever restores Mobius’s confidence is what they will do.

“Huh,” says Tony Stark. “Pencil pusher just stopped the god of mischief with a touch. You see that?”

“I saw it,” says Captain America. “I don’t think they’re lying.”

Mobius presses his lips together in a hard line before taking a breath and saying, “Loki, you have magic, right? Can you like...” He holds up his hands and waggles his fingers. “Magic us out of here. I think it’s getting a little crowded. Some conversations are supposed to be private.”

Loki likes the idea of... talking, but they had a plan when they came here today.

Loki looks at the scepter. At the people, no longer kneeling. At Captain America and Tony Stark, arguing about Mobius. And then, finally, they look at Mobius himself, with his calm, steady presence, ever-soft smile, and ill-fitting suit.

Loki meant to conquer all of Midgard. And this, being captured, was part of the plan. But. Perhaps. What’s waiting another day? Or two.

They very well can’t let Mobius be captured. To think of it, most of their plans might need changing now.

“Hold onto me,” Loki says.

“Happily.” Mobius goes easily into their arms.

And Loki holds tight as they magic away.