#i think that's what he recognizes in tyr that makes him adopt him: that done with the room's shit vibe

[tiredassmage]

Savosta signing off all further mental communications with his shitty ex-boss of an Emperor, “With all disrespect / Disrespectfully, Wrath”

He’s so over this shit, your honor. He never asked for this. And he wasn’t ever paid enough to make up for it.

[tarithenurse]

Stolen - 44

Fandom: MCU Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x fem!gifted!reader Content: Spite and other negative feelings. Some figuratively ass kicking. A/N: Something strange has happened...I’m on a roll! Reminder: this is unrelated to the D+ Loki series. The only thing in common between the two is the background (ie: the MCU movies). Ask or re-blog for tag.

44. Antichrist Superstar

…   Loki   …

I wonder if my real father would have done the same? The son of Laufeyson had expected this to happen. Odin, proud and stubborn as always, has weighed his options and found the risk of damage to his name and realm greater if he were to follow the plea of a woman from Midgard and a disowned, adoptive prince. The fact that both Heimdal and Thor are supportive of the cause? Not enough to compensate for who brought it to their attention.

“Can I…can I say something as me? Personally?” [Y/N] pipes up meekly, “I mean…not as a representative for Alfheim or even Earth...uhmmm Midgard?”

“Fine.” The disdain in Odin’s answers fans the flame of hatred deep inside Loki.

“Right.” All eyes are on the mortal woman as she breathes deeply and flattens her palms on the table to calm herself. “You, king Odin, are a damn coward. An egocentric, old fool.” Her posture may be gentle, but the fury in [Y/N]’s gaze is unmistakable and Loki recognizes it from some of their earliest interactions. “I get that you don’t trust Loki...been there, done that…but you have evidence that something’s going on and you decide to ignore it?! What do you think will happen if no one stops Thanos in time? Huh? He gets stronger and stronger while you sit here and turn a blind eye…no pun intended.”

“How precious you must think the short lives of Midgardians are…but do not test my patience again by speaking to me thusly. Now…if Thanos truly does become a threat then we will deal with him. But foes have come and gone, most never even reaching our borders.”

“Apparently you don’t understand how dangerous Thanos is, then.” A hollow smile curls the mortal’s lips. “He’s far worse than me, a silly, little speck in your looooong life...but I’ll make you understand.”

Leaning back, [Y/N]’s eyes glaze over as she begins to hum, foreign words forming under her breath. A quick glance at the High Priestess sends chills down Loki’s spine because she is sitting slack jawed, staring at the woman who once saved her.

“You cannot do that,” the Älfir whispers, “it is too much…even for you.”

“What is she tryi-” Tyr, the commander of the Einherjar, never gets further.

A shimmer, faint but distinct, erupts from the corners of the room and spreads across every surface towards the centre where the soft carpet beneath the conference table is turned into an island. Translucent tendrils breach “land” and stretch towards the chairs, stealing away the safety of the people who had tried to avoid the magic by lifting their feet from the floor. On it goes, swirling and coiling, writhing around bodies and into the facial orifices – the last thing Loki sees is a brilliant translucence before something else overtakes his senses.

…   Reader   …

Using the frustration and rage to fuel the magic, you channel everything you have into the song which has one purpose only: show them. You feel nauseous, cold sweat pearling on the skin as nature fights against you. How precious….I’ll show you a force to be reckoned with. Call me a mayfly, call me mortal, but don’t fucking call me weak, Odin. Your nails are digging into the wood of the table, tearing the nail beds from the pressure as the song continues.

Wracking your mind, images from your own pass emerge and are poured into the song together with memories borrowed from Loki and from Heimdal. Wars are waged and lost in a glittering stream, lives taken and survivors – emaciated, thirsting, suffering the horrors both awake and asleep – left to struggle through rubble and decay until they too succumb on planets that are barren.

You don’t know the places or races. All that matters is that as vision after vision presents itself, it becomes clear that you’re drawing upon events that have taken place (or are happening) far beyond the reach of anyone present in the chamber.

Tears slide down you face, hot on the cheeks. But you can’t stop. There is no stopping anymore until all of the destruction has been channelled through you and your song...and by then your world goes dark.

...  

“She’s waking.”

“Make room.”

“How long can it take to fetch the healers?”

The words bubbling around you become garbled as the soft darkness refuses to let go of you.

...

Finally, the velvet night has to move in favour of glittery light.

“[Y/N]...[Y/N], my dear?”

Something between a groan and a whimper manages to push pass your lips. Blinking slowly, the glitter in your vision turns out to be droplets caught in the lashes but your arm is too heavy for you to wipe them away. I’ve been crying? Why?

“Come now, love,” Loki’s voice cajoles you, “do not leave me again.”

“As if y-” you have to clear your throat before the voice is strong enough to be heard -”as if you could get rid of me that easily.”

It’s hard to focus but you manage to catch a glimpse of his smile. “You gave us quite a scare.”

I did? Recollections of nightmarish scenarios shoot through your consciousness. I did.

“Not just us,” you recognize the bass that’s Heimdal, “every Asgardian experienced these visions.”

...

Your knees still threaten to buckle, making your grateful to have Loki to lean against, by the time you stand before the golden throne of Valhalla. The entire court is present, many wide eyed and whispering about the horrors they now remember but never have witnessed. And they see Loki – a prince without a kingdom – carrying himself as though he’s the personal guardian of the women that has stayed at the behest of the queen herself.

“Your majesty.”

“Lady [Y/N]...” Odin acknowledges but doesn’t put down the heavy, golden spear. “This day has not gone as I expected,” he pauses to let the surprised gasps die out, “yet...as much as I would prefer to pronounce you a liar and a schemer...the weight of the truth rests heavier on the scales of justice.”

Loki had tensed next to you during Odin’s short speech, the air cooling rapidly only for you to feel, but he relaxes somewhat at the last sentence.

“That’s uhmm...that’s nice, thank you,” you manage, not sure what to make of it all.

As if sensing your confusion, Thor steps up to his father and whispers something in the older Asgardian’s ear but he’s waves away.

“The truce between Asgard and Alfheim, as agreed upon previously, still stands,” the All-Father nods to the High Priestess whom you now spot near the crowd on the other side of Loki, “yet let me now propose that we join forces and seek out the foe that threatens all of us and life as we know it.”

...   Loki   ...

The sensation is...peculiar, to say the least. Walking the hallways surrounded by his former friends, Loki can’t quite be at ease despite having spent several hours relaying much of what has happened since he fell from the Bifrost. It had been difficult, forcing the Jotun to combat his inner turmoil lest it be noticeable for those listening to his tale. Of course, both [Y/N] and the woman he used to call “mother” had noticed but neither chose to say anything, his sweet mortal simply clasping his hand under the table and squeezing it in affirmation. All will be all right. If only. Despite the gargantuan steps within the last 24 hours, the goal is still far away.

“Excuse me...I think I shall retire for the night,” he softly explains as he lingers outside the doors to the great hall where people still are dining.

The Warriors Three and lady Sif share glances but Thor just steps over to embrace his returned brother. Adoptive brother. There has been copious amounts of embraces which Loki isn’t entirely comfortable with just yet.

“It has been an eventful day, brother, and I suspect you want to ensure your erm beloved is doing fine,” the oaf rumbles jovially, “please extend my regards aaand heh...sleep well.”

Oh, how funny he thinks himself to be. “I’ll pass on your greeting.” The pause is awkward. Laden with a poisonous silence that’s festered for too long. “Well...good night.” And with that, Loki turns on his heel and beelines to their quarters – the same rooms that had been made available to [Y/N] when they had initially arrived to Valhalla.