#just in case you have not enough loki on your dashboard

[wanna-rock-n-roll-in80s]

oh

have I already told I love gifs out of context?

because I absolutely do

Loki S1E4 (2021)

[maple-seed]

Thrown - Chapter 13: Work and Leisure

Summary: Loki picks and chooses what sort of work he can tolerate on a Saturday.

Word Count: 2,806

Masterlist

It was a market day. As such, you were up a little early, getting ready for the day ahead. You opened the stable and fed the animals, came inside and had your own breakfast. When you stepped back outside, you caught something out the corner of your eye. Loki was on the other side of the wall, near the gate. You smiled wide and called out to him.

"Loki! Good morning!" He waved courteously. "Good morning. Heading to the market?" "Getting there eventually." You laughed. You had a suspicion as to why he was here, but didn't want to get your hopes up. You would have to play this carefully if you didn't want to spook him. "Actually, I'm running just a little behind, would you want to give me a hand?" You prayed that was close enough to the truth to keep from tripping his lie-detector.

He stood and considered it for a moment. "I suppose I don't have any pressing engagements." "Great, thank you." You tried to keep your excitement from being too obvious, you could feel your smile stretching to its limits.

Ash left your side as Loki unlatched the gate and stepped through. He knelt down to greet Ash but you pretended not to see, instead turning to enter the stable. As you led Breidr out by his halter Loki was waiting.

"How can I assist?" "There are some crates I need loaded into the wagon. They're in the same place as last time. Do you remember?"

He nodded and set to work without another word. You went about grooming Breidr and tried your best not to watch Loki every time he walked past. You were still in awe of how easily he lifted those crates of ceramic. It seemed like it wasn't even a strain. Sometimes you almost forgot that the brothers weren't human until moments like these reminded you. It was a little overwhelming, thinking about how powerful they are. These were celestial beings. And one of them was doing your chores. Best not to think about it, the absurdity might send you spiraling into some sort of crisis.

You finished with the grooming, and Loki must have finished loading the crates because he approached as you were harnessing Breidr. Without a word he was helping you, buckling or straightening or passing something to you. It was as if the two of you had done this together a hundred times. It made a warm feeling settle in your chest, you tried not to spend the entire time smiling like an idiot.

The work went so much quicker with two people. You thought about it as you led Breidr to the wagon, with Loki following behind. It always felt like it should be done by two people, but you supposed that's just because there had been two people when you started. Gerdy had done this alone for years before you came along. Maybe that's why she'd been so happy when you came along.

Loki continued to oblige when you asked him to lead the wagon out while you stepped inside for a minute. You packed a sandwich for yourself, then made another, just in case. You weren't sure if Loki was going to join you at the market but you had your fingers crossed. You switched on a slow cooker so dinner would be waiting when you got back. When you returned outside Loki was holding Breidr near the gate. You tossed your pack in the wagon and opened the gate. He led the wagon through without instruction, you closed the gate and approached with a grateful smile.

"Thanks a ton. You've gotten me back on schedule." He nodded. "Never mind it. I had nothing else to do." You took the reins, bringing them up to the dashboard. "Well, if you're still looking for something to do, you're welcome to join us at the market." It's possible he didn't hear the nervous waver in your voice, right? You couldn't watch his reaction, and instead busied yourself by climbing into the seat while he considered the offer. "Thor had mentioned he might need my assistance today." You began nodding understandingly, hoping your disappointment wasn't obvious. Your surprise was certainly obvious when he stepped up into the seat beside you. He wore the slightest smirk. "The task was going to be rather tedious. It would be advantageous to be occupied at the market instead." You grinned. "You're playing hooky? And making me an accomplice?" He scoffed. "You're one to talk of accomplices." You acquiesced with a nod. "I guess I can't argue."

Ash had taken his place beside you so you started the wagon forward. You knew Loki did not like touching, you've seen his nervous looks when you hug Thor, so you tried to give him his space on the bench. Today he seemed much more relaxed than last time. Maybe whatever it was that had kept him up that morning was no longer hanging over him. At any rate, he didn't seem to be glued to the far end of the seat this time. You tried not to crowd him, regardless.

You arrived at your stall and Ash disappeared to make his rounds. Loki seemed to remember how this went, he immediately began helping you unload and unpack. Once all the crates were out the wagon you led Breidr off to a pasture on the far side of the market. You had an arrangement with the property owner.

On you way back you were stopped in the street by a voice calling out to you. "You there. Girl." You turned to see a man approaching. You didn't recognize him, but he was definitely Asgardian. "Yes?" "Are you the one I've seen with the princes?" He seemed concerned. You nodded. "We're friends, yes." "A word to the wise." The man looked solemn now as stood in front of you. "Be careful. Thor is a good enough sort, a good man with a good heart. But his brother is not to be trusted. They don't call him Serpent-tongue for nothing." Your brow creased. "I thought they called him Silver-tongue." He waved dismissively. "The same thing." You frowned. "I can't help but feel it isn't." If he picked up on your disapproval, he didn't show it. "You would do well to keep your distance. That man can talk you to your death, then feel no remorse at your pyre." You waited a moment, he appeared to be done. You responded flatly. "I'll take your words into consideration." He gave a nod and a reassuring smile, seemingly placated that his advice was heard, then went about his way.

You were fuming all the way back to your booth. His own people? You knew how humans felt about him, and they weren't entirely without reason. You didn't think they Asgardians held this much disdain for him. Not truly. Not after all this time here, where he had been helping them rebuild. This god that was helping you at your damn pottery shop had somehow been deemed beyond trust. No matter what he did. Could they not see what they were doing?

You must have been scowling still when you returned to your stall because Loki looked at you curiously. "Is something wrong?" You put on a smile and shook your head. "No, I'm fine." He gave you a look and you were reminded who you were speaking to. "I had an encounter with someone unpleasant, it's nothing to worry about." He looked serious for a moment. "Was it Hulda?" You laughed. "No, but they have similar poor judgment."

You noticed all the crates had been unpacked, everything was on display, organized by color. Truly the work of a fiend.

Then you spotted something that lifted your spirits. Khadija and Hani were approaching, pulling their wagons. You watched Hani's face, hoping to catch the moment she spotted Loki. It didn't disappoint, she lit up like Christmas when she recognized him beside you. Once she dropped her cart at their booth she made a beeline to yours. You could tell she was burning to talk to Loki, but, not one to break tradition, she asked you her question first. You told her a story about sword fighting with pirates. She was adequately entertained and gave a satisfactory giggle. You noticed Loki had an amused look as well and felt just the slightest hint of pride.

Hani turned her sights to Loki. "Mr. Loki, could you show me your magic?" Loki straightened from where he was leaning against the counter, lifted one of the ceramic pitchers on display and held it aloft. With a flash of light it vanished and Hani gasped with delight. You smirked. "Hey, you have to pay for that." Loki scoffed. "Oh, certainly not." Another flash of light and the pitcher was again in his hand and he returned it to the counter. Hani reached out and carefully tapped the pitcher. It was solid. She squeaked out an excited thanks before running back to her mother. You could see her chattering away while Khadija set up their booth.

It brought a smile to your face. "She's asked about you every time I've seen her since you met." Loki looked surprised but had no other response.

Customers began arriving and the day started in earnest. Things proceeded as expected, lots of folks taking a look, some sales were made. Loki was his usual sort of taciturn, for the most part. Occasionally he would respond to one of your comments or give a quiet laugh. He helped you when you requested, and sometimes when you didn't. More than once he began packing an item or making change before you asked him to.

A few hours in, an older couple arrived, clearly tourists from outside the country. They spoke some English and Norwegian and a bit of some other languages but whatever it was they were asking you was more complex than what they could convey. You and they were both gesturing, trying different words, but you couldn't find enough common language to understand. It was looking like the situation was going to end without resolution.

Loki cleared his throat. "If I may interrupt, I believe they're asking if you could ship an item to their home." You were surprised for a moment, but recovered. "Oh, yeah, hold on." You reached under the counter for a notebook and a a pen. "Can you ask them to write down their address?"

Loki turned to speak to the couple, whose faces lit up as they recognized his words. They took the notebook and began writing while talking to Loki excitedly. With his help the transaction was sorted out, their purchases set aside for shipping. The couple thanked him -- you could recognize that much -- and left.

You turned to Loki. "Impressive. So how many languages do you speak?" Loki was leaning nonchalantly against the counter. "All of them." You studied him for moment. He didn't seem to be joking. "What." He shrugged. "Asgardians are blessed with the All-Tongue. We can hear and speak any language." You tried to pick your jaw up off the ground. "Wow." You occupied yourself by shifting some items on the countertop. "Of all your powers I think that's the one I envy the most." He tilted his head and gave you a curiously appraising look. It seemed like he was going to say something but his attention was taken elsewhere.

The couple had returned and were speaking to him again. Loki suddenly looked uncertain. "They're asking for my assistance at another stall." You nodded. "Well, do you want to help them? You can always say I need you here."

He considered this for a moment, then hesitantly stepped out from behind the booth and followed the couple to a vendor across the way. You were watching surreptitiously, feeling a bit like a helicopter parent, which was ridiculous considering this man was centuries older than you. You saw the suspicious look on the seller's face as Loki approached and your chest felt tight. You were practically holding your breath. Once the couple began speaking and Loki was translating the vendor became much more relaxed and welcoming, smiling, happy to be making a sale. You breathed a sigh of relief. After they were done you saw them motioning Loki elsewhere, and soon you couldn't see him. You spent several minutes tending to customers and trying not to worry about the God of Mischief being on his own because that would certainly be a very silly thing to worry about.

Eventually they all returned, which was a sight; the celestial prince walking through the market with a couple of elderly tourists. When the group reached your booth the couple started talking to you again. The man produced a camera and held it out to you, motioning to himself, his wife, and Loki.

Loki looked uncomfortable again. "They... they would like you to take a photo of us." You laughed. "Yeah, I gathered that."

You nodded to the man and took the camera. He and his wife stepped back and stood next to Loki, wearing big smiles. Loki straightened his back and put on what you could only call a royal appearance. It occurred to you then that he likely has never done this before. He didn't manage a smile but he did successfully hide the nervousness you had seen a moment ago. You snapped the picture and handed the camera back. The couple said their grateful goodbyes and Loki returned behind the counter. He looked a little winded.

You took a sandwich out your pack and held it out to him. "Here, you've earned a break." He took it with a nod and sat down, spending a couple minutes in dumbfounded silence. "They wanted a photo." You smirked. "Oh, tourists will take a picture of anything." You started in on your own sandwich. "Don't worry about it too much."

When you finished your lunch Hani appeared, right on cue. You passed her some money and she bounced away, returning later with the glazed cashews. You took your packet and popped one into your mouth. You were satisfied to find that Loki didn't hesitate this time when you offered the package to him. You also took a moment to note that today was probably the most he had spoken to you since you'd met. Not to mention, Thor hadn't texted you today asking about Loki's whereabouts, which furthered your suspicion that all this was not as spur-of-the-moment as he would have you believe.

Yes, this hobby of yours was progressing nicely.

****

Altogether, Loki decided this day had proven to be a success.

Perhaps he had feigned the spontaneity of this outing, but he hadn't lied about its usefulness in skirting certain work with Thor. He had also begun to crave the anonymity afforded to him by working at your booth. You had been right, people didn't pay much mind to the help. That foreign couple had been a bit of a startle, but even the challenge of navigating that situation had been a nice change of pace. It wasn't clear if they had known who he was.

The rest of the day passed without much of note, and the tail of the afternoon found him helping you load your wagon and disembark. During the quiet ride something resurfaced in his memory.

"You said that of all my powers you envy my All-Speak the most." He was watching you from his seat. "Is that really true?" "Yes, easily." You answered without hesitation. He knew you weren't lying but couldn't help being skeptical. "More than my strength? My agility? My magic? My cunning? My impossible good looks?" "Your humility?" You looked at him sidelong with a smirk that matched his. "More than all of those together. The strength, the magic, those are amazing, sure." Your eyes returned to the road ahead. "But to always understand and be understood? That is a gift." Loki turned forward as well while he considered your answer. "You humans are silly things." You scoffed a laugh.

When the wagon arrived at your farm he helped you return things as they were, the horse set loose in the field and everything put away. You offered for him to stay for dinner but he declined. For some reason that felt like a bridge too far. Instead he bid you farewell and started down the road to New Asgard.

When he entered the humble building he called home he found Thor in the kitchen, the table entirely covered in stacks of paper work. His brother looked up as he entered. "Loki! Excellent, since you're here, you can help me sort these out." Loki groaned and made a mental note to accept your offer of dinner next time.

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Thrown Taglist If you would like to be added or removed from the taglist please leave a comment or send me a message/ask.

@mischief2sarawr, @imalovernotahater, @norestfortheshelbywicked, @purplekitten30, @ozymdias, @chantsdemarins, @pdraxxi

[adventure-with-loki]

[Drive Loki to his destination]

🖐️ pause this is a part of a choose your own adventure. If you just found this you can start from the beginning here.

Written by: @lilyofthesword-writes

Pairing: Loki x Uber Driver!Reader

Summary: Loki getting into your car was terrifying enough. Now, you’re actually driving him to his destination, and he’s not quite as awful as he initially presented himself. But what will happen when the journey comes to an end?

Word Count: 900

Warnings/Disclaimers: Threats with a dagger like in Part 1.

“R-right…” you stammered, picking up your phone from its dashboard cradle.

The blade was back at your throat in an instant. Apparently, your move was not one he had anticipated or appreciated.

“I do hope you are not attempting to notify the authorities, dear mortal,” Loki cooed, tone brimming with malice.

You cleared your throat tentatively to coax out your next words without accidentally brushing against the blade. “N-no, sir. I don’t know that area well. I need to entire the address into my phone to get us there.”

Through the rear view mirror, your eyes locked. His aventurine irises seemed to glitter as he mulled over your response. Seemingly satisfied, the dagger vanished from view and he lounged back in the seat like a king on his throne.

“Very well. You may continue.”

Releasing the breath you had been holding, you glanced at the girl you should have been driving for. She hadn’t left yet. By the shocked expression, you guessed she was frozen in place. But… There was something about that look. There was recognition in her face. Did she know this guy? Should you know him?

The paper with the address had fallen to your lap during the chaos. Flipping it over, you tapped in the information and set it to start the directions. From what you could tell, it was near the outskirts of the city. It was no lie you weren’t familiar with that area. Most of the Uber requests you had gotten were to various places within the heart of the city. Once your phone confirmed the route, you placed it back in its cradle to see the map better. Putting the vehicle into drive, you began to follow the first voice command.

The journey was quiet, though not necessarily comfortable. Loki seemed relaxed enough, and why wouldn’t he be? He had a clear view of the map. You followed every direction exactly with no “Recalculating Route” notifications to be had. You were acting as a well-groomed servant — Silent unless spoken to.

“Tell me, mortal,” Loki cut through the silence, his deep voice sounding ever regal. Just who was this guy? “What do one do to find themselves in such a droll line of employment?”

A light ahead turned yellow. You slowed to a stop just before the intersection line. “Well…” You chewed your bottom lip. “To make money. I have to pay for rent and groceries somehow.”

He hummed in response at first. “And this is what you decided to do with your life?”

The light turned green. Your pride bubbled up in your chest and your foot hit the gas a little too hard, causing Loki to lurch back in his seat. His glare pierced through the rear view mirror. You turned back just long enough to give him an apologetic smile before continuing to pay attention to the road, hands in a white knuckle grip on the steering wheel.

“Yes and no. It came from necessity. Definitely not my dream job. And in any case, this is more of a side gig,” you answered quietly.

You heard the muffled squeak of his leather garb protesting his move to lean forward. His head was right next to your shoulder, so close you thought you could hear his heartbeat underneath all those layers of clothing.

“And what dream might that be?” His voice was soft this time.

Your intent to only glance down at him was nullified the moment you looked into his eyes. He was still posh as usual, but was there a hint of concern hiding underneath the mask.

“I—”

“Your destination is just ahead on your right,” your phone chimed in, rocketing your focus back to the road.

Pulling off to the side, you stopped and put the car in park, doors unlocked and ready for your passenger to exit.

Loki’s frown was set deep in his cheeks as he elegantly flopped back in his seat. His pause was concerning. There was no promise of him letting you live when this was all over. Was he deciding your fate at this very moment?

He suddenly shifted towards the door and left the vehicle. No “thank you”. No “goodbye”. No payment. He just left. Oh well… At least you were still breathing.

The sigh that left your lungs was quickly sucked back in when Loki tapped on the window, clearly expecting to have one more word with you. Why couldn’t this just be over already? You quickly rolled down the window.

“Your services are greatly appreciated, dear mortal,” he spoke as he peered at you curiously.

“Th-thank you, sir…”

You were reeling inside. Why did you just thank him? Him?! He commandeered your vehicle, threatened you and now probably won’t pay you.

Your rollercoaster of emotions must have played out on your face. He chuckled under his breath just loud enough for you to still hear him. He was quiet for a moment, looking you up and down, appraising you.

“I can help you, you know,” he spoke quietly, a little unsure of what he was saying.

“…What?”

Where was this coming from?

His face steeled, and his newly formed smirk was confident. “I can help you reach your goals. I only ask for one thing in return.”

“And what is that?” you asked shakily.

“That you work for me, worship me as the god I am.”

Choices:

Take Loki up on his offer (Chapter coming soon, comment below if you want to be tagged when this chapter is released.)

Deny Loki and try to part ways (Chapter coming soon, comment below if you want to be tagged when this chapter is released.)

Tag List: @nahthanks @lucywrites02 @whatafuckingdumbass @gaitwae

[swanimagines]

THOUGHTS

A few (bigger) writers have left the community due lack of feedback and rude people lately, I've personally got more feedback lately than I usually do (that means I get at least one comment per week, in contrast to one comment per month) and honestly, that feels surreal after writing here for over three years and just now people start to wake up with feedback (at least it seems like that, but I'm still fearing it's gonna die down). I really hope it will increase and readers (and in some cases, other writers) will get it how important feedback actually is. I've been trying to be more active lately at @swans-reblogs, but I admit that I'm not as active as I should be and used to be.

There are reasons for that which sound like shitty explanations, I'm super shy to comment to new people, I don't like to read longer pieces (1k+) for characters I'm not personally crushing on and a lot of my moots haven't written much stuff for fandoms I'm not in and a lot of new stuff I've been tagged into is Marvel, and since I'm not up to date with it, I have blocked MCU, Eternals, Wandavision, Loki, Hawkeye, Falcon and the Winter Soldier and Spider-Man No Way Home tags because I don't want spoilers and I don't read anything from Marvel fandom (minus X-Men) until I'm up to date with it. If you're interested, you can see my tagged page below the read more + the disclaimer so I won't make any moots angry.

(I still haven't watched any Marvel TV serieses, Black Widow, Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings and I don't have a possibility to go watch NWH either, and honestly, I'm not one of those big Marvel stans so I'm not really hurrying it up either, the movies are ok but they don't hold a special place in my heart and I don't have any fave characters who would drive me forward, and note: if someone recognizes themselves from that list, I'm not blaming you, you aren't really controlling what people request or what you are fond of on that moment, but I'm just sad that I can't contribute into the community because the content that's on my dashboard rarely is what I can read without being spoiled or something romantic for a character who makes me uncomfortable in romantic sense, or then smut. But I still see that your pieces get dozens, even hundreds of notes, but hardly any reblogs or especially feedback, which infuriates me, you don't like a piece if you didn't read it or are planning to read it... and if you never give feedback, anon or off anon, or at the very least, reblog, you're contributing into the cause of writers slowly giving up and leaving)

But yeah my tagged page: NWH spoilers, Jaskier, Jaskier (reading those two later when I remember to), Gwen Stacy from Into the Spiderverse (I watched a half of it but imo it was weird and I didn't really like the art style), NWH spoilers, NWH spoilers, NWH spoilers, NWH spoilers, no spoilers but for a character I don't know yet x5, Five Hargreeves, aka a 13 year old = people would attack me if I gave any feedback on that because I'm twice older than he is, Shang-Chi x4, Jaskier (so three Jaskiers to read), smut, Eternals x5... you get the picture. Just to point out why I haven't been as active with giving feedback lately.

Just thoughts because I'm so sad because yesterday the other one of the two writers who I have followed since the very beginning of discovering the x reader community in 2016, one of the legends of the x reader world left us, because people didn't give Ace enough motivation to continue despite their continuous warnings of losing motivation... but I hope people could now realize that what happens even to the biggest and greatest of us if we aren't given anything back for giving so much. Unless people are so lazy that they won't even care to see what happens if they'd even TRY giving feedback.

I personally have stuff written and in queue till February right now and I believe it's largely because people have given me a lot more feedback than usually. And last spring, my every single Kaz piece got like 5-10 comments, and what did it do? I wrote a lot every day for like 2 weeks straight, got like 50 pieces written in that time and I just spat oneshots out and I was excited to write and sought for a moment to write every day, even wrote on my phone (which I usually hate) because my motivation just jumped above the clouds. I wish that was the case with all of my fandoms, but no. I usually get 0 comments to most of my pieces, maybe 1 reblog if I'm lucky and 52 likes.

I was reminded about how an author who I once knew said that if we don't write professionally and for free, publishing these on the internet, those people are "just entertainers" and don't need praise, they should do this just because they want to, and didn't get it when I told her that yeah we write because we like to do it, but we publish them because we want to be noticed, to be shown that we are noticed. In her opinion, we don't need thank you's etc because we're "just entertainers", which baffles me because she herself is a writer, a published one no less. And guess what - a few months later she cried about how one of her favorite authors decided to quit writing books because - surprise surprise - she didn't feel that she's appreciated enough, that she feels like people read her books and then throw them away, even if they liked them but nobody bothers to actually tell her how they liked them, even when she asked for it. Kinda controversial... now that I think about it, she probably tried to hurt me by saying that thing about me being "just an entertainer" earlier, tested me by pushing my buttons because she knew I'm, or at least was, super hotheaded, but yeah.

And note, some people might and are writing here only because they like it and don't seek for feedback, way to improve or appreciation and Tumblr is just their personal dumping area for their creativity, but by default, every writer NEEDS feedback. Without feedback, we can't improve. I don't know what's so difficult to understand in it, even when people lose their motivation for this. People say that we don't get more feedback because we don't work hard enough for it. But like it doesn't add up either - for example, Ace worked SO HARD, publishing something big and great every single day and as a reward, they, too, mainly got a few likes and a reblog, just like the rest of us. And even if a writer posts once in a blue moon, and that piece is "just" 100 words, they still are entitled for some attention and affection if you read that piece and liked it.

But yeah. Congrats if you read this far and hopefully this made you think of something. I just needed to rant.

[lavender-lotion]

Fanfic Writer Asks

I was tagged by @asarcasticwitch - thank you so much!

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

737, which is an ugly number :(

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

1,890,054 words, which ... AH I might actually get to 2mil by the end of the year!

3) How many fandoms have you written for, and what are they?

thank you, ao3 dashboard for this handy list:

Teen Wolf (TV) (377)

X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies) (187)

Marvel Cinematic Universe (93)

Glee (29)

Young Justice (Cartoon) (11)

Kingsman (Movies) (9)

Original Work (9)

The Avengers (Marvel Movies) (8)

Criminal Minds (US TV) (7)

Thor (Movies) (6)

Deadpool (Movieverse) (5)

Weird City (TV) (5)

X-Men (Original Timeline Movies) (4)

Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga) (4)

Ragnarok (TV 2020) (4)

Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies) (3)

Teen Wolf (TV) RPF (3)

Iron Man (Movies) (3)

The House in the Cerulean Sea - T. J. Klune (2)

Venom (Marvel Movies) (1)

Stranger Things (TV 2016) (1)

Captain America (Movies) (1)

Fate: The Winx Saga (TV) (1)

Power Rangers Ninja Storm (1)

X-Men - All Media Types (1)

Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan (1)

Riverdale (TV 2017) (1)

X-Men Evolution (1)

Push (2009) (1)

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

With You, I Belong

Mates and Marriage Proposals

The Perceptions of You and I

(baby) maybe that matters more

Breathing You In

5) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

ughh so, fair warning, I have a lot of works. I definitely do not remember all of them, however I do have four works tagged as Unhappy Ending and then another nine works tagged Ambiguous/Open Ending, which is way more than I’d thought I had! 

however, there is one fic that stands out in mind when I think about which of my works has the angstiest ending! Heed the tags :)

And Now?

Teen And Up Audiences | Major Character Death | M/M | Teen Wolf (TV) | Chris Argent/Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski | Chris Argent, Peter Hale, Stiles Stilinski | Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canonical Character Death, Peter Hale Dies, Unhappy Ending

Stiles Stilinski finds out who his soul mates are by setting one on fire.

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

ughhhhhhhh I truly do not know??? 

7) Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I don’t write many crossovers at all! I have some mcu/teen wolf cross overs, I have a teen wolf/glee cross over plotted (that i’ll probably never write), but my strangest is probably this teen wolf/x-men cross over!

what-ifs (don’t fuckin’ matter to no one)

Teen And Up Audiences | No Archive Warnings Apply | M/M | X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)Teen Wolf (TV) | Logan (X-Men)/Sheriff Stilinski | Logan (X-Men), Sheriff Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski | Memory Loss, Telepathy, Mentions of War, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Child Neglect, Grief/Mourning, Telepath Stiles Stilinski, Telekinetic Stiles Stilinski, Nightmares, Cuddling & Snuggling

There’s somethin’ there. Somethin’ that has him sleeping curled up on his side with a pillow tucked to his chest, somethin’ that has him splittin’ up his food ‘fore he eats ‘cause he don’t need as much as a baseline. Has him turnin’ to tell someone shit that ain’t there. There’s just...there’s just somethin’ there that’s missin’ and it shouldn’t be missin’.

8) Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

sometimes! I don’t write a lot of smut because I actively dislike writing it, but the smut I do write is super super soft and sappy and full of emotions lol

9) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I respond to almost all of my comments! comments i won’t respond to: negative comments, unsolicited criticism, comments that aren’t relevant to the fic itself, comments simply asking for more 

I love love love responding to comments! I love every single comment that I get and I want to show how much I appreciate getting them, and personally I think responding to comments is the only way to do that! everyone has different comment philosophies, but for me, if someone is taking the time to comment on my fic like I so badly want them to, I think it’s important to respond to show my appreciation! 

10) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

aha YEAH I DO. this past weekend I actually got a number of shitty comments and had to file two ao3 abuse reports for harrasment (: I love it

I am no stranger to hate comments. I write copious amounts of age difference fic. I write copious amounts of incest. I am not going to apologize nor am I going to feel bad for enjoying either.

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

ughhh I sure as heck hope not! 

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! I have a number of them :) I always always do my best to make sure it’s linked to the original fic, AND that I add a tag noting that there’s a translation!

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have made a few attempts! the only successful attempt is there's nothing i wouldn't do to make you feel my love which is a collaboration with @flightinflame, not quite a co-write!

14) What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I am unable to answer this lol I don’t have an all-time favourite. mutli-shipping forever.

15) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

god okay this is such a good question! imma ramble about a few so bear with me here! (i may have 700 posted works but I also have a few hundreds wips & ideas floating around in my gdrive, too)

gone & past - this is a starrish wip i’d started in 2017. I ended up deleting it from ao3 to rewrite it and never got there, but I have about 20k of content! I built my home, inside of you - thorki human au with college jock thor and high school dancer loki. i’ve got a start and nothing else Sheriff Stilinski Gets Some Sweet Sweet Lovin’ - massive wip where... well, the sheriff fucks his way through the entire pack. I want to write it but. trans allison au - this is an au where allison is trans and that changes the entire season 1 canon. it features stallison, petopher, and a looooooong ass outline that will never exist beyond my wips You Fill My Heart (With Such a Gentle Love) - this is a stetopher a/b/o au with pregnant omega stiles and alpha pair petopher falling in love. it started as a labour of love to someone I no longer have in my life. I have about 30k, a full outline, but idk. makes me sad to think about it they slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered - this is my big x-men first class rewrite that I honestly don’t think i’ll ever finish. I have a few thousand words, a full outline, but no love lost for cherik so. doubtful Physiotherapy (I'll Be Your Baby) - this was a fic I was SO excited about, and then it kinda flopped and stayed a wip because I didn’t have a plan or the motivation to finish it. it’s a winterspider human au with amputee bucky and science twink peter that I adore the premise of but who knows breathing you in chapter 2 - I have a massive second chapter planned for this fic but the first did so good so fast I am way too intimidated to write more in case everyone hates it lmao

there are more arjgoirjeg there are so many more but these are the bigger ones I can think of right now!

16) What are your writing strengths?

ughhhhh I hate answering this because I have, like, seriously bad imposter syndrome around my writing BUT I do think i’m able to weave poignant backstory into narration & i write strong, distinctive narrative voices!

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

literally I can’t write settings at all. I don’t know how people vividly describe settings but I absolutely cannot do that and it’s one of the reasons I haven’t delved into original fiction. I need to write the town my characters live in?? fuck that imma just use a location we’ve seen on screen & let readers fill in the blanks lmao

I am also shit at long fic. I don’t have the mind for long and interesting plots, and I don’t have the focus to write long fic (which is why every long fic i’ve ever posted has taken me literal years to complete smh).

18) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I like it! both as a reader and as a writer. as a writer, I generally only use a few words, or small sentences that can be understood by context, and I generally don’t 

19) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

the last thing I wrote and posted was this one:

Languish

Teen And Up Audiences | No Archive Warnings Apply | M/M | X-Men (Original Timeline Movies) | John Allerdyce/Bobby Drake | Bobby Drake, John Allerdyce, X-Men (Team) | Not Canon Compliant, Future Fic, Established Relationship, Summer, Teasing, Fluff

It was a really, really hot Saturday, and most of the school was outback, enjoying the sun, not caring about the heat, and having the time of their life.

Everyone but Bobby, of course, who was melting away.

“I just want to remind everyone that I make ice. I am the Ice Man. I am not built for the heat and soon enough I’m going to melt away into nothing.”

20) What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

this is another impossible question! I have a few I really enjoy, but I really don’t think I have a favourite that stands out above the rest!

i’m tagging: @4magicandmayhem @insertmeaningfulusername @midrashic @wynnefic @ikeracity @stronglyobsessed @elledelajoie @wolfnprey​ & anyone else who sees it and wants to do it! seriously! go ahead :)

blank questions below the read more!

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

3) How many fandoms have you written for, and what are they?

4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

5) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

7) Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

8) Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

9) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

10) Have you ever received hate on a fic?

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

14) What’s your all-time favorite ship?

15) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

16) What are your writing strengths?

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

18) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

19) What was the first fandom you wrote for?

20) What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

[themissingmarvel]

Kind Regards, Detective [Part 6]

(So, forgive me for this both: being long, and not having a lot of Loki in it. I understand if this chapter turns people off or doesn’t get a lot of love. I won’t be hurt by it. But it needed to be done. So hopefully I don’t lose readers but if I do, like I said, I understand.

Catch up:  [Part 1] // [Part 2] // [Drabble] // [Part 3] // [Part 4] // [Drabble 2] // [Part 5]

Pairing: Detective Loki x fbi!Reader

Word Count: 3.7k [yikes]

Warnings: Language. Poor life choices. )

Back when Y/N was in undergrad, she remembered one of her classmates affectionately telling her she was afflicted with what was known as “resting bitch face”. She became known as the Queen of the RBF within her circles, and honestly it remained with her. But it was protective, and in times like this, when a precinct was staring at you, you had to protect yourself.

One of the things that would come up was a conflict of interest, she knew that immediately. Her supervising agent would be concerned about a package sent directly to her. No one would know the depth of it, though. They’d know it was in reference to her sister’s passing, but the song? The CD itself? She could lie. And she would. Even when her phone rang and she ignored it, she kept her face stoic and her eyes locked on the computer, scanning over the evidence collected from the scene still.

“Agent Y/N, there’s a call for you from the bureau-” a young officer, though not a rookie, popped his head in.

She didn’t even look up, “That’s cool.”

Loki glanced from her to the officer who looked more confused than anything. Clearly that was not the answer he was hoping for.

“I mean, they want to talk to you.” He suddenly got quieter. Meeker.

Again, she didn’t even pause, “Nice of them. I’ll send them a thank-you card later.”

Now the officer was confused, “Did you want to answer it out front or I can-”

“Tell them I’m dead. Or I’m in the bathroom. Whatever. I’m busy so please don’t come in again.” Her eyes glanced briefly from the screen to the man who got the hint, his mouth in a straight line as he backed out of the room, entirely missing David Loki’s very soft smirk.

But she was. Busy, that was. Not dead. She had found a few interesting leads, and was suddenly finding a rather disturbing pattern, “David, c’mere a sec. I need you to look at this and tell me I’m not crazy,” she looked across the table at the man who’d been poring over the papers and pictures, hating to look at bodies but knowing now was not the time to be squeemish. He thought his note was bad… hers was tenfold. Whatever it was. He didn’t know about her sister. Or any of her life, really. He knew what she had shared. He was vaguely terrified that this would stop all of it.

Standing, he walked over to where she was, a spreadsheet open, “So look,” she held up a finger, glancing back to the man who was leaning over, face by hers as he looked at the screen, the moment intense, though far from intimate, “if we follow the purchases, the television is old but beyond state-of-the-art, telling us it was pricy. And you don’t leave pricy things behind, especially if you think you can be traced. And when we tracked the generator down, it was from a different manufacturing company, so both were dismissed out of hand. But when we add in the piece about the phone company provider and the chemical weapon used… Look.”

She brought up a page of a very formal looking website, Safety in the palm of your hand was the caption under the large “West Company” logo in block letters at the top. David knew of them, but clearly Y/N knew more, “The company does a lot of work with technology and weapon engineering. The federal government has a contract with them, so we’ve worked with them before. David, they even have a lab on site…”

He stood back, looking down at her with focus and concern. Without the chemical agent to go off of, the connection might be a reach. But the fact that it all tied to one company, and one that would have direct links to technology to reach into… anything, meant it was a good chance that the person they needed would be there.

“So what do we do with this? I mean, that’s a huge company. And with a defense contract, they’re probably not gonna wanna talk to you,” David crossed his arms in front of his chest, concern on his features. She was a bloodhound who had finally picked up a scent and he had a sinking feeling she’d chase that scent, regardless of what came in her way.

Nodding, she closed the laptop, “Normally that’d be true, but I may have a way into the company records. I can’t divulge why. I just need you to trust me.” Her eyes were wide. And pleading. She had just been hit with a wrecking ball and already she was back on her feet, but David knew she was hurting. And pain made you do stupid things. But she was slowly becoming his weak spot.

Pushing back his hair he sighed, “Fine. What do we do next?”

Standing up and grabbing her phone that had more missed calls than she could reasonably get away with, she shrugged, “We don’t do anything. I make a call, and you keep going over evidence. I have to go back and grab something at the hotel. I left a file back there we’ll need to keep moving forward on this.”

There was something in her voice, her tone perhaps, or her body language. David would blame himself later, as he always did, for not noticing. He’d tell himself it was his fault. He should have known she wasn’t going to the hotel, or at least that wasn’t her final stop. And as she walked outside without her federal issued phone, only her keys and wallet in hand as she held her jacket tight, she understood what had to happen.

_____

She wasn’t lying. Not completely. She had gone to the hotel and grabbed her personal phone, the one she used for calling her parents, listening to music, listening to audiobooks when she was stuck on airplanes, or in this case, long car drives alone. But her first call had been, surprising to most, to Henry Best. The man was one of the top CEO and board members of West Company and one she knew better than most. It was the way she had into the company.

Henry had been surprised to hear her voice, though not disappointed. He had liked Y/N when he met her four years back, when she had just begun her profiling in the field. Back when she was still wet behind the ears, so to speak. And that she was calling on her personal phone made him even more curious, “Of course. Around when should I expect you?” His voice, smooth as silk with a ‘proper’ British accent, a voice that could melt a woman without effort, came forth.

Glancing at the dashboard of her car, Y/N shrugged, “GPS says it’s another hour. So around 3pm, if that’s all right? Honestly, I hate to barge in like this. And I know you’re doing more than a favor. Especially since the FBI doesn’t even know-”

There was a soft chuckle, the man on the other end smiling, “Please don’t apologize. It would be my pleasure to see you again. After all, it is you I have to thank for where I am now, is it not?” A genuine kind of thanks to his voice, though something else lingered. Perhaps not strong enough for the bluetooth in the car to detect.

Either way, she felt herself smiling as she eyed the guidance system, “That was all your own work, Henry. But we can talk more when I get there. Do I check in at the front desk?” She was adjusting herself in her seat, suddenly a little nervous. She really hadn’t thought this through. And she was still wearing… well, a sweater and jeans. And her hair wasn’t well done, either. Fuck, she really did not think this through.

“I’ll have someone waiting out front to valet the car, don’t worry about parking. Mark will bring you up. Take your time.” He was calm. Cool. Collected. More than he had been before. It was kind of nice.

She nodded, to no one in particular, “Will do. See you in an hour, Henry.” She clicked off the phone, continuing her drive.

Her phone rang again, though this time the number came up as Delete This Later, “Madison is on a rampage. And now I have some podunk Detective Loki- Hey, what kind of name is that even? Whatever, anyway, this dude is calling me wanting to know where you are. I made some shit up about you needing to coordinate with another office. I still have Madison on a rampage, though. He’s your boss. Remember him?”

Rolling her eyes, she was already regretting giving Adrian her personal number, “Thank you for covering. I’m actually headed to see Henry Best. Over at West Company. Who knew my name was so memorable?” She smirked.

Adrian huffed, “Just don’t do anything stupid. Well, more stupid than you already have. Wits about, right?”

She cocked a sideways smirk, “Always. And you know the deal. Call David at 3pm, when I’m due in New York to meet with Henry. I’ll text you the address. And you can give him this number. Otherwise the guy will have a heart attack,” she sighed softly.

There was quiet for a moment before Adrian spoke again, “What did he send you, Ladybug? That guy. I haven’t seen you like this since the Boston case when you almost bumped into the dude we were after. I’m worried.”

But she was quiet. Too quiet.

“Nothing’s gonna happen. I just have a feeling Henry will be able to help.”

___

He had called her. He had called her twice before realizing the ringing was coming from inside her bag. He had thrown his own phone across the room, though one cased in an Otterbox after the officer manager was tired of him breaking phones. Instead, it bounced off and hit the ground. He had wanted to break something. Fucking anything.

It was a flurry of words after that, David having rolled his sleeves up, his hair repeatedly needing to be slicked back as his face looked vaguely similar to John Wick finding his dog dead. He kept telling himself he was angry because she was in harm’s way, and that was true, but there was something more. This woman he had felt vulnerable with, who had in turn shared her own vulnerabilities, was gone. And he knew that she was gone because she was chasing something that not even God himself could stop her from getting. She was on a mission.

David was a driven man just as much, however, and he had gotten through to Y/N’s unit by sheer force of will on the phone. He had kept it together enough that he was actually able to get through to someone named “Adrian Dent” who worked closely with her. The one who had texted her ‘ladybug’ and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like Adrian. No idea why, but when the smug asshole gave him a regurgitated message about her meeting with another agent in another city, he understood it was a lie.

But what else did he have? He was sitting by himself in the conference room they were using, staring at a laptop that had the company name on it. And he knew. He didn’t know exactly, but he knew. And fuck waiting. Fuck telling his chief. Fuck all of it. He was headed to New York City just the same as she was. ____

It had been strange, walking into the large, sleek office building. The floors were marble and the colors back and silver were clearly the aesthetic. She had trailed behind a young man who looked to be no older than twenty-two, probably scored this gig right out of a prestigious college, wanting to work his way into the defense industry. What a strange goal. No stranger, perhaps, than wanting to be an FBI Field Agent.

He was quiet as he lead her up, his earpiece wired in as they took a private elevator to the… damn, fiftieth floor? Last time she could have sworn it was forty. But that was four years ago.

Stepping off the elevator that looked like something out of Blade Runner, she followed the assistant carefully down the hall, carpeted in black with dark wood lining it. Far fewer people here. And it was clear, by the large double doors ahead, that this was where she was going, “Mr. Best is inside, you may enter.” He looked almost smug. She didn’t belong. He knew it. She knew it.

Shrugging off her winter jacket, she knocked on the door, heading the rather gentle, “Please, come in,” beckoning her forth.

It had been four years since she saw him, but Henry looked amazing. He had before but… there was something else now. His dark blonde hair was styled on his head, not slicked down but a certain casual and professional look to it. He had on a white business shirt, black tie tight around his neck though with his sleeves rolled up. And he, of course, was gorgeous. Blue eyes that felt like they could stop you in your tracks, angular features that made him all the more distinguished. He looked good.

And the office was amazing. An entire wall was purely windows, looking out at the impressive New York City skyline. It was like being in a movie. Her entire life she had never existed in a world like this, and now she was investigating a serial killer in an office that looked so extraordinary it hurt. Book shelves, a large desk by the back where he had been standing, oak, of course. He smiled, a sort of crooked smile that, were she paying attention, would have concerned her more. But he was smiling as he walked over, “Oh, please, let me take that. Shouldn’t have you lugging this around,” he smiled as he got close, taking the jacket from her hands, draping it over a chair nearby.

Nervous, suddenly, she pushed back her hair, “Thank you… and sorry about not being dressed for the occasion… Like I said, kind of a rush deal getting here,” she laughed nervously, fidgeting.

“Nonsense. You look wonderful, if I may say so. Would you care to take a seat? I wager you’ve just driven a bit of a ways, so I’ll understand if you’d like to stand.” There was care in his voice and tone, and suddenly she was struck by how strange it was. She tended to trust her gut, and suddenly it was telling her to be aware.

Smiling with her placating, plastic smile, she shook her head, “I’m happy to sit.”

He looked satisfied with the answer, gesturing to the table in the corner, two cups and a teapot on it, “Please, take a seat. May I offer you some tea?” He sat across from her, his movements graceful and purposeful, and perhaps almost serpent-like.

She held up a hand, “No thank you. Long drive back, don’t want to have to make pit stops,” she smiled at the man who looked… content. Relaxed. Hardly what she remembered before.

He was pouring himself a cup, Y/N looking around as she noticed a plant on his desk. Well, one. And flowers on his window. Gorgeous lilies. And orchids. Succulents were on two shelves of the book cases. She couldn’t help but smile, “Quite a lot of greenery around your office, Henry.”

Taking a sip of the tea, he smiled, “After we spoke those years ago, I took you up on your suggestion. I began gardening. Took a month off, worked on myself, and began gardening. Hobbies really are a lifesaver, aren’t they?” He was watching her now, able to see that brief moment of her eyes widening, ever so slightly, her breath catching in her throat. He could see her wheels turning. But she was no mere rabbit. Fear was not something that drove her.

And true, in her own mind she was rationalizing it, “I’m glad it seemed to work for you. Having a hobby like that can be therapeutic. And it seems like our meetings got you back on track. How have things been now?”

Of course, she was referring to the incident that had lead her to his office years ago. He had lost his wife in a rather tragic car accident. From what he had told the police, they had gotten into a fight, and before he could stop her, she had gotten her keys and driven off. She’d wound up running a red light at a major intersection and was killed on impact.

Something was clicking, now. His face changed every so slightly when she asked how things had been. Hobbies. Not just gardening. And now she was poking at the wound.

He nodded, quite like the gentleman he was, “Much better. Work has been consuming much of my time. I imagine you’re in a similar boat. I always sensed we were quite alike in that way,” he placed the tea back down and smiled at her.

There was a feeling of anger that came with the comment, though she was unsure why. It wasn't rude in any way, nor did it infer anything negative about her. But it felt personal.

“Speaking of work… I’m here because I think I have a lead on my case. And not to be an alarmist, I’m somewhat concerned they’re linked with your company somehow,” she eyed him carefully.

He looked out the window with a bit of a chuckle, “We have quite a few employees, you know. Do you have anything more to go off of? I’d love to help you, but that’s quite a broad brush to be painting with, Y/N,” his smile was daring this time. He was playing with her. What may not have been personal now was. But he was fishing, too. He wanted to see what she had. If she’d divulge.

She was many things in this world. Stupid was not on that list.

“If you could set me up with someone in human resources, I might be able to go over a filter given some of the profiles I have set up. Think you could make an exception for me?” She forced a smile, hoping, perhaps, she was wrong about that feeling in her gut. The feeling that was screaming at her, louder now, telling her to get out of the building. To find her car. But he had that, didn’t he? He had insisted he park it for her. Insisted he take her up through the private elevator. And she had complied.

Maybe she was wrong.

“Were I a different man, I might argue against it. But you’ve done quite a bit for me, Y/N, more than you know. You helped me realize my potential in those meetings. The kind of man I could be. And so of course, Agent Y/L/N, I would be more than honored to help. After what you’ve done for me. Truly, it stayed with me.” He smiled. And he was being honest. Sincere. She had made an impact in his life that had changed the entire course of his world. He had gone from a man on the brink of losing his life to drugs and alcohol over the loss of his true love, to a man who had channeled his grief into something else. He understood what it meant to lose.

A feeling of relief washed over her and she smiled, more sincere this time, “That’s really kind of you. And if it means anything, I always knew you’d come back from it. It’s why I recommended the board keep you on. We all have choices in life, I’m glad you made yours.”

A small ‘chirp’ came from the digital watch on the man’s wrist, looking down as he grimaced slightly, “Seems I’ve had an unfortunate emergency arise. I’ve got your number, so I’ll be sure to give you a call when I can locate someone in HR who can work remotely. Wouldn’t want you taking the trek back and forth from Conyers again, would we? You said over the phone the Detective you’re working with is stationed there as well,” He smiled as he stood, the agent doing the same.

He handed her the jacket she’d come in with, walking her to the door. And for a moment, she knew she could walk out and it would be the end of it. Her gut would stop screaming at her, now from the top of its lungs, and maybe she could get out unscathed. She could simply walk to the elevator and find a way to do things on her terms. She knew, deep down, that she could walk out the door confident in her own beliefs and he would be confident that she had only the brief terror that prey does when suspecting a predator nearby.

Instead, she turned as she walked out the door, her eyes locking onto his, “I meant to ask, you have so many different plants and flowers, do you have any favorites? I’m a lavender woman, myself,” she smiled strongly, forcing herself to speak now as she felt the rest of herself coming undone.

And he smiled. The smile that would seal in every fear she had, every terror that she would feel, every nightmare that would haunt her, and she knew that look in his eyes with that smile as he spoke, “Oh, my dear, it’s roses I love best. Give my kindest regards to Detective Loki, won’t you?”

It took every ounce of strength she had to stay standing as he closed the door with the look of a man she had seen once. The man who had fallen apart but was wearing the mask of something else. She understood his comment, now. Two sides of the same coin. Two people shaped by tragedy. Two lives changed in a moment. And a grin on his face that felt like a bullet to her chest.

Kind Regards indeed.

Fuck.

(Tagging: @escapingthoughtsandsecrets​ @is-it-madness​ @detecellie​ @doritosandavocados​ @oscarflysaac​ @peccobagnaia​ @fgtakbrjbdl​ @miss-missing-patd​ send me a message to be added/removed)

[jeichanhaka]

The Robbed That Smiles

Chapter One: The Beginning

Schhh...Clink!

The sound of the wrist irons being clamped down echoed in the hotel foyer, silencing the mischief god’s mirthful retelling of the latest trick he’d pulled. A moment passed and then another, before either Loki or the guests he’d been regaling reacted. The latter’s response was to sidle away uncomfortably after a minute, while the former simply frowned at his older brother.

“Really?” Loki raised an eyebrow and sighed, automatically testing the irons clamped to his wrists. It was unlikely, but part of him hoped that the handcuffs were fake and that this was the set up to some elaborate prank. After all Midgard’s yearly mischief day was approaching and Thor’s human friends kept insisting on including the Asgardians in Midgardian traditions. “What have I done now?”

“Don’t.” Spoke Thor, shaking his head and sighing exasperated at his brother. “You know why.”

Loki contemplated for a moment, before shaking his head. “Can’t say that I do. Perhaps you can enlighten me to what I’ve done wrong this time, brother?” The mischief god asked, following along beside his brother as Thor led him towards the hotel doors. “Last time it was shouting ‘fire!’ in that building with the seats and large screen and the puffy corn.”

“Popcorn.” Thor muttered, correcting his brother’s word choice out of habit. Ever since Asgard was destroyed and the Asgardians had to resettle on Earth, Thor found himself being teacher and guide to his people. Such that he corrected his brother without thinking.

Loki scowled, tensing at being treated like an ignorant child at lessons. “I knew it was called that.”

Thor rolled his eyes, leading his brother to the Avengers transport van that had over the past few years been used to transport Loki more than anyone else. One or two of the Avengers had even cheekily dubbed it the ‘Loki Apprehension Vehicle,’ going so far as to paint those words onto the van. Until Loki, apprehended for some misdemeanor level of mischief, had noticed and quipped about going to the ‘Lav.’ With a straight face.

It took a moment and reread for Stark to have the van logo changed back to its previous one. It took over a year for Loki to get tired of the joke - especially with how it annoyed certain of the Avengers. Thor was one of those least affected, though mostly because it reminded him of how his brother used to be as a child. Before envy twisted him. Sure, even as a child Loki used to do things like disguise himself as a snake and stab Thor in some misguided game, but his younger brother had done so for laughs. Laughs and attention, rather than to cause any real harm.

“How was I to know it was against Midgardian laws? You didn’t even know.” Loki continued, referring to an occasion seven months back when the mischief god had yelled ‘fire’ in a crowded cinema. That prank had escalated quickly, very quickly and if it hadn’t been due to Stark helping to negotiate community service and a fine, Loki would’ve been exiled from another Midgardian country. (The first being Norway where the displaced Asgardians had settled, the second being the UK. Then China. He’d been unofficially exiled from New Asgard since his first week on Earth.)

“This isn’t about the cinema incident.” Thor said after pushing Loki onto the back passenger seat of the van.

“I know.” Loki muttered, taking one look at Banner already sitting in the seat behind the driver’s and sat down. In the middle seat, knowing from previous experience that his brother would be sitting on the other side, preventing him from reaching either door. “If it were, you’d also be on the hook. You ‘encouraged’ that prank according to the Midgardian judge when you failed to discourage me shouting ‘fire’ when only you, I, and the Warriors Three were in the cinema.”

“....” Thor frowned, rubbing his forehead above his eyepatch, a headache starting to pulse.

“You encouraged that?” Banner questioned, looking over at Thor.

Though all the Avengers knew about the cinema prank incident, only Stark and Rogers knew that Thor had been deemed partially at fault. Or that the Warriors Three had also been charged same as Loki, having encouraged the mischief by laughing along with the prankster; only stopping when Midgardians ended up hurt in their panicked rush outside. Their punishment had been being sent back to New Asgard and being forbidden to travel outside it for six months a piece. The Midgardian judge had wanted to do the same with Loki, but couldn’t due to Loki having no ‘home country’ other than the US at the time. (Thankfully that judge hadn’t known of Loki’s Jotunn heritage, otherwise the Midgardians may have demanded the mischief god sent to Jotunheim.)

“I...didn’t know it was…”

“Illegal? Wrong? Potentially dangerous?” Banner said, attention focused on Thor. The thunder god frowned but said nothing, offering no excuse. Banner sighed and shook his head. “I’m starting to suspect Loki is not the only one at fault for his behavior.”

“I’m right here.” Loki growled, eyes gleaming with annoyance. “Mind including me in your conversation which clearly involves me?” There was a pause, during which Banner glared at Loki wordlessly. The mischief god gulped, remembering his previous encounters with the man and his ‘green guy’ alter-ego. “...you’re not still annoyed from that prank last week?”

“Of course not. Like I’d be annoyed you created an illusion of the city being destroyed and making me think I did it.” Banner spat sarcastically.

“I…” Loki fumbled over what to say, his first instinct was to say it was just a prank and that Banner should lighten up. That instinct was curtailed by a survival one and the painful memory of going up against the other guy. “I apologize and will not do that again, you have my word.”

Banner just gave Loki a look, one that screamed ‘yeah, right’ but also held the threat of ‘you better not.’ Sensing the hostility, the memory of being crushed by the ‘other guy’ playing in his subconscious, Loki turned to his brother. At least Thor knew his sense of humor and mischief, and while his brother could beat him senseless in a fight, Thor wouldn’t kill him over a prank.

“So...care to tell me what I’ve done this time to be transported in this l….”

“Don’t even dare call it the ‘lav.’” Came Spark’s voice from the front of the van through the video-radio dashboard. In order to be able to curtail Loki’s antics whenever the mischief maker went too far, while also maintaining enough Avengers at the ready in case of true hostiles, Stark had fitted the van with self and remote driving capabilities.

“...lovely vehicle?” Loki asked, smirking at getting the playboy billionaire to call the van by the short-lived moniker. “I assume something serious if you’re sending the Ban-Hammer.” He quipped, gesturing from Banner to Thor as he spoke. His eyes got a more mischievous gleam to them when someone on Stark’s end laughed.

“Loki….” Thor sighed and rubbed the skin around his eyepatch, starting to lose his battle against the headache pulsing there. “You can’t seriously not know why you’re in trouble.”

“Because of a prank.” Loki replied flippantly, stating the obvious, and earning groans and eyerolls in response. “I’d just like to know which….” He fell silent as the direction the van was heading clicked, and a smug, mischievous grin appeared on his face. It became more pronounced the closer they got to their destination and the enormous statue.

“That. That is why.” Thor scowled, pointing towards the Statue of Liberty. Or what was supposed to be the Statue of Liberty, but was now a gigantic statue of Loki.

“Oh...that.” Loki drawled, keeping his grin subdued as he spoke. “Wonder how that got there.”

“Very funny.” Banner muttered, not at all amused.

“Care to explain why you replaced Lady Liberty with a statue of yourself?” Stark asked through the video-radio dashboard.

“...I look better?”

“As a statue? Yes, I am starting to think you would be better as just a statue.” Stark retorted, the last of his patience fizzing out. His thinly disguised threat causing Thor to protest in defense of his brother. “So do a lot of people down here in Washington. I’ve been informed that if you don’t fix this in the next 30 minutes, you’re going to be spending the rest of your life in a subterranean base in Antarctica.”

“That’s one of Midgard’s polar caps, right?”

“Yeah. And I already informed the president you’d be able to survive there easily, Frosty.”

Loki glowered, his good humor gone at the nickname born from the avenger learning of his Frost Giant heritage. Taking a few more moments to weigh his options, including one in which he eliminated the billionaire and took over the avengers, Loki shrugged and lifted his bound wrists. “Fine. Take these off and I’ll get to it.”

“No. Spell comes off first, then cuffs.”

Loki laughed uncomfortably. “What spell? My magic’s dampened.” He showed his forearms, indicating the iron cuffs, which had been made to curtail his magic.

“Wha…DON’T TELL ME YOU ACTUALLY REPLACED THE FUCKIN’ STATUE OF LIBERTY WITH AN ACTUAL FUCKIN’ STATUE OF YOURSELF!!!!”

“Of course not.” Loki replied, calming Stark down a mite and smirking when he heard Rogers chastising Stark about his language. “My statue stands regally above all. It’s not doing anything so vulgar as ‘fucking.’”

“Loki!” Thor gaped at his brother, his head pounding like all the armies of the dead were stomping around in his skull. “You….”

“You FUCKIN’ idiot!” Stark hollered. “Thor, I know Loki’s your brother, but I am going to build the strongest fucking prison and drop him into the ocean. Or a volcano.”

“Loki. Come on. Undo your spell.”

“It’s not a spell.” Loki replied, calmly. Once more showing the iron cuffs around his wrists. He looked at Thor, asking him wordlessly to take off the shackles. “Thor. Brother. I won’t be able to restore the statue in 30 minutes. I can cast an illusion spell to make it seem restored though. At least until it is.”

Thor ground his teeth, about ready to deny Loki the opportunity to fix the prank so the mischief god would have to suffer the consequences. In the end he sighed and unlocked the cuffs. “Fine. But you’re not going anywhere until the statue is actually restored.”

“All right.” Said Loki, already waving his hand, turning the statue of him back into Lady Liberty. Seeing this Thor sighed in relief, his headache a bit less biting and Banner visually relaxed, leaning back in his seat. “A bit dull. But if the Midgardians prefer it…” The mischief god shrugged, the next second teleporting from the van before either his brother or Banner could react.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Stephen Strange frowned, one of the ancient one’s forbidden tomes laid open on the table. Quietly he read it, aided in understanding the archaic script by his photographic memory and experience with the other tomes. His magic was also a boon for reading this particular book - although written in sanskrit script, the language was odd, as though it was written in code. Or some obtuse form of poetry and metaphor.

On top of that, the text itself kept changing. Whenever he wasn’t looking directly at a word or sentence, it seemed to exist as a jumbled mess of multiple words. Like some kind of literary schrodinger’s cat. His magic helped to slow the jumble, so that the constant changing of words didn’t overwhelm his peripheral vision, or give him a headache. Though he couldn’t shake the suspicion that he was missing out on a lot by doing so. This book was one that required manual reading in order to truly absorb its knowledge, it was regrettable that he didn’t have enough time to study it at leisure.

‘Well, that isn’t entirely true.’ Strange thought and glanced towards the display holding the Eye of Agamotto. He considered briefly using the Infinity Stone’s time magic on the tome, but dismissed the idea. Even if the use of time magic wasn’t dangerous, he suspected that reversing or pausing time on the schrodinger-esque script wouldn’t give him the effect he wanted. It could even backfire.

Ttrrring!

The alarm trilled through the Sanctum, pulling Strange’s attention away from the tome. The sound indicating the intrusion of a non-Sanctum cleared sorcerer into the building, albeit one that wasn’t necessarily hostile. That alarm was much different and made to be silent except to Sanctum resident wizards.

Brow furrowing, Strange opened a magic window beside him to check on who his visitor was - and immediately rolled his eyes. Not even bothering to close the ancient tome with the schrodinger text, he teleported Loki to the library. Right across the table.

“Wh….” The mischief god scowled, barely able to stop himself from falling face forward on the hardwood floor. Even though he’d expected it the moment he entered the building, being teleported by Doctor Strange’s magic was disorienting. Something Loki suspected was done purposely to annoy him. Or perhaps as payback over when he’d attacked New York years ago. “You don’t have to do this every time.”

“I disagree. Just last week you tried ‘borrowing’ one of the books in the forbidden section of the library. And that was after you asked to ‘look at’ the Eye of Agamotto.” Strange crossed his arms and beheld the trickster with a piercing gaze. “If it wasn’t for your brother vouching for you, I’d block you from even touching the Sanctum door, let alone entering through it.”

Loki scowled and rolled his eyes, grumbling at the acknowledgment that his brother was the reason Strange tolerated him in the Sanctum library. Strange simply continued gazing at the mischief god, his expression bored and also highly observant.

“I assume you’re here to lay low while your brother and Stark smooth things over after your most recent bout of mischief.” The wizard drawled and with a wave of his hand, blocked off access to the more dangerous and powerful books in the library. Only the more innocuous volumes were left accessible to the trickster’s peruse.

“Seriously.” Muttered Loki, not surprised but still annoyed by Strange hoarding away most of the interesting parts of the collection. “There’s no need to treat me like a child that may accidentally burn the house down.”

“I know.” Countered Strange. “I’m treating you like an adult who may deliberately burn the house down and call it a prank.” He waited, barely reacting to the glower Loki gave; the next moment the mischief god shrugged and took one of the remaining books from its shelf.

“I don’t know why you bother. It’s highly unlikely that the Libraries on Asgard didn’t have the equivalent or superior volumes on their shelves. Thus I already know all this ‘dangerous information’ you’re trying to keep from me.” Loki mumbled, skim reading through the book in his hands. His pretense of indifference didn’t fool Strange, who noticed the mischief god side-glancing over at his own open book.

“If that’s what you think, you’re free to check out the city library.” Strange retorted, returning his attention to the forbidden volume in front of him. “But I assume the people of New York won’t be too happy seeing you after today’s statue switcheroo. And yes, I know about it.”

Loki started to respond but then just shrugged, and sat down against the shelf, returning to his book. It may have been more becoming to sit at a table or desk, but he generally preferred reading in a more relaxed position. “...what did you think?”

“Of what?”

“Me beating you to it.”

Stephen Strange blinked and closed the book he was reading, turning his attention back to the trickster. “You’re saying you switched the Statue of Liberty with a statue of yourself, just to throw a wrench into my and Wong’s similar plan for an April’s Fools Day prank?”

Loki nodded. “Yeah.”

Strange groaned, and gaped at Loki as though the mischief god was the strangest and most foolish being he’d met. “You do realize that April first is two whole months away?!”

Loki shrugged. “So? It’s a Midgardian tradition I can wholeheartedly get behind. That and their Autumn tricks and treats holiday.”

The human sorcerer thought a moment, about to correct the mischief god and his misunderstanding, but instead shrugged and returned to his ancient tome. It wasn’t his job to explain to the god why pulling an April Fool’s Day prank before the actual day was terrible and bound not to be given leeway. His job was simply to protect the Earth, and so far as Thor’s brother wasn’t planning to or had caused actual harm, he was content to focus on actual threats.

The primary one being the being or beings behind the uncovering of the Infinity Stones in recent years, and more importantly why whoever they were hadn’t made a move in years. That was why he currently was pouring over the ancient tome, trying to pin down its schrodinger script and to make sense of its metaphors.

It had, on his initial skim through, mentioned the stones. But try as he did to pinpoint which page it’d appeared on, Strange couldn’t find the mention. He could conjure it in his thoughts thanks to his photographic memory, but the actual page was gone. Like it had never existed. That rankled the human sorcerer more than the inactivity of whatever beings had maneuvered the Infinity Stones into the Avengers’ paths.

“Mandel ad Infinium.” Loki muttered, leaning over the table and the book Strange was reading. His own eyes scanning over the pages and narrowing in interest at the fluctuating text, part of which he’d read aloud. His reading of the script was much different than the human sorcerer’s and in the back of his thoughts sparked a memory of an Asgardian text he’d read as a child. One about an artifact that changed form often but was mostly seen as either tapestry or tome, with text that was never the same on subsequent readings. “This book…”

“W….” Strange shut the book and glared at the mischief god, wondering how Loki got so close without him noticing. His intense focus on the ancient text was probably to blame. “Go read one of the other books.” He gestured towards the bookshelves, essentially shooing the mischief god away.

Loki simply gave Strange a look that said ‘you did not just tell me what to do,’ although with a bit more attitude. Rather than saying anything, the mischief god grabbed for the book, managing to touch the cover before Strange could warp him away using portal magic.

Brrrclasssh! Bbrrtoomm!

An explosive crashing sound rocked through the building, knocking the book from either man’s reach as well as throwing the two sorcerers across the room. Following the first shockwave came similarly powerful tremors whose origin points were widely scattered across the city and outside it.

“Shit.” Strange muttered, pulling himself up while Loki uttered similar curses in both English and Asgardian. The tap of footsteps approaching caused both of them to tense and ready themselves for an attack. Stephen Strange in order to defend the city, and Loki for self-preservation.

The owner of the footsteps scoffed as another shockwave rippled through the building, knocking the two sorcerers off balance again. Long enough for her to pick up the ancient tome and skim through it, noting that it was her target.

“Put that back. This isn’t a lending library.” Strange quipped as Loki lunged at the interloper with knives drawn, and he opened a portal to grab the book back. The human sorcerer’s eyes widened when his fingers grasped empty air, passing through the book. That same second, Loki halted his lunge and turned his attack quickly towards a space five feet towards the left where the thief stood.

“Illusions? You really think you’ll trick me with such paltry magic?!” The mischief god laughed, seeming about to strike the other when he ‘disappeared,’ showing off his own illusion magic. He then appeared behind what at first glance seemed to be empty space, but quickly proved to be otherwise as he pressed the blade of one of his knives against the thief’s throat. “I’m Loki, of Asgard. Master of….”

“Loki? Your name’s Loki?” The thief asked, raising an eyebrow and ignoring Strange taking back the ancient tome. All her attention was focused on the god of mischief, as though the damage to the building and her brief bout against them were afterthoughts. “Child of Laufey?”

Loki scowled at the reference to the father who abandoned him. “Only biologically.” He spat, before referring himself as Odinson and god of mischief. “Anyway, if you know I am, you must also know who my brother and his friends are. You and whoever sent you won’t get away with this attack.”

“....” The thief didn’t reply, a peculiar expression on her face. As though digesting information that was difficult and befuddling. Before either sorcerer could say anything, she burst out laughing. The sort of laughter that follows a self-deprecating joke or gallows humor. She muttered, through her laughter. “It was a dimensional rift. Dimensional.”

“Is this a joke to you?” Strange approached, his expression one of bewildered anger as he gestured towards the damage inside and outside the building. “You just destroyed a massive amount of the city and you’re laughing?”

“Wha...oh.” The thief shrugged and gave a quick wave with her hand. Immediately the damage to the building and city outside vanished, to the astonishment to both men. The only part that remained damaged was the wall, the table the two men crashed into, and a few of the bookshelves. “There. Better?”

“Wh….”

“You cast an illusion over the entire city?” Loki asked through clenched teeth, part impressed and part annoyed that he hadn’t realized it sooner. He immediately grabbed the thief more firmly and pressed his knife tighter against her neck, both reactions the result of wondering if she was an illusion.

“Hey. It’s cool. I’m not going anywhere.” The thief replied, tensing as the knife blade nipped at her skin. “And yes. It was pretty much an illusion. Took a lot fucking out of me, too.”

“All right.” Strange muttered, brimming with a mix of annoyance, impatience and indignation. Within just a motion or two of his hands, he bound the thief with magic binds around her hands and feet. He further secured her above an open portal in the floor at her feet, ready to drop her in an endless pit at the very first attempt at escape. “Who are you? Who sent you? And why are they after the Og Infinium tome?”

The thief grinned, giving another terse laugh. “No one sent me. I thought to use the book to get home.” She paused and swallowed back another chuckle. “As for who I am…” She glanced towards Loki, the mischief god scowling annoyed at Strange easily taking the thief from him. “...you’re not going to believe me.”

“Try me.” Strange replied, glaring at the thief.

The thief in response simply pointed towards Loki.

“Why are you pointing to me?” Loki blinked, confused but also immediately noting the mistrust rising in the human sorcerer’s eyes. He bristled and shook his head. “No. I have nothing to do with this woman or her attempt to steal that book. I….”

“That’s not what I meant, quim.” The thief scowled at Strange, her voice more menacing without laughter. “I am my universe’s version of him.”

“...Come again?” Strange gaped at the thief, while Loki stared wide-eyed at the woman, searching for evidence of her lying. He blinked and gave his own breathy laugh when he detected no sign of deception.

The thief narrowed her eyes. “Name’s Lokki. Goddess of Mischief, last Jotunn, and should be ruler of Asgard, Midgard, and the rest of the Nine Realms.” She cocked her head to the side, her sea-hue eyes glaring at the human sorcerer.

0000000000

A/N: I hope you like this. It’s my first MCU fanfic.

As I’m unsure of how to quickly differentiate Loki from female Loki that doesn’t require the constant description of gender except by tweaking the spelling of the name, I opted to use Lokki to refer to the female. (Both spellings are to be pronounced the same, it’s just to allow those reading this to be able to quickly discern which is which.)

[gingerwritess]

i need pregnant reader and loki being so over protective and soft hnnggg

some silly sweet fluff to make up for all that smutty stuff whew i’m so sorry

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

“Loki, I told you I’m fine, I can drive myself!”

Another clone of the stubborn god materialises in front of the door, snatching the keys right out of your hand and throwing them over your head to the real one behind you.

“It’s not a matter of ability, this is a matter of principalities.”

Your shoulders sag. “…what?”

Big words and an exhausted, pregnancy-ridden brain don’t mix very well.

Loki laughs, dispelling the two other clones and wrapping his arm around your waist, spreading his cool fingers over your swollen belly. “In simpler words, you’re not driving yourself. I won’t allow it.”

“Then how am I supposed to get to the doctors, genius?”

“I’ll get you there, of course.” He pulls you tight against his side and is about to teleport the both of you out of the house, but you jab your elbow into his gut and push him away.

“No teleporting unless you want me to puke all over you.”

Okay, maybe it’s not doctor’s orders, but you know your stomach isn’t steady enough to handle traveling through space and time—even without a baby, it’s questionable.

Loki frowns and looks from the car keys he stole from you back up to your smug face: you think you’ve got him beat.

“I’ll drive you.”

At that, you have to laugh. “You? Really,” you snort, holding onto your beach ball of a stomach, “no offence, babe, but you can’t drive for shit.”

“Well?” He shrugs and opens the front door, already ushering you outside. “No time like the present to learn.”

Oh god.

“That’s a stOP SIGN LOKI STOP SIGN—”

The sound of tires screeching is something you are much too familiar with now.

“I had that under control,” Loki soothes, his grip on the steering well deathly tight. “Stop your worrying, stress isn’t good for the baby.”

“Dying in a car crash isn’t good for the baby!” Your hand slaps onto his thigh when he tries to accelerate again, the car lurching forward bit by bit. “Oh my god, Loki, just put your foot! On the pedal!!”

“That’s where it is…”

“THERE’S ANOTHER CAR, LOKI, CHECK YOUR BLIND SPOTS—”

Loki sighs, and you notice his knuckles are white from gripping the wheel so hard. “I see the car, dear.”

“Use your goddamn turn signal, you psycho.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“And turn down the music! C’mon, focus!”

“Yes…ma’am…”

Your nails dig into his thigh as he zips past a cyclist, headed straight for an intersection. “The cyclist had the right of way, genius!! And he could’ve—RED LIGHT!”

The car screeches to another sudden stop, sending you flying forward into the dashboard. Luckily Loki throws an arm out and pushes you back into your seat, staring at you with terrified eyes as his hand guards your swollen belly.

“…my bad.”

You’re still breathless from that last chaotic two minutes, just glad to be at a stop—this many near-death experiences can’t be good for the brain.

“You’re stressing again, aren’t you?”

His brow raises a little, voicing the worry etched in the lines of his face, and his hand goes slack against your belly.

Your head snaps to gawk at him. “And what gave that away?”

The light turns green as he sighs. “I’m sorry. I only thought…well, you should drive.”

A line of angry cars are honking behind you as your lips turn up in a gentle smile—he’s trying, the poor guy, he really is.

“Nope.” You tighten your seat belt and reach up to grab hold of the safety handle above the door, the oh-shit bar, you now understand it’s being called. “You said it yourself, weasel, no time like the present to learn. Now start the freaking car, the light’s been green for a whole minute.”

Loki’s heart swells—there you go again, trusting him. Giving him chances he doesn’t deserve.

Idiot.

Maybe you should get some giant, annoyingly flashy “student driver” stickers to slap on the back of the car, just in case.

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

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 @scarlettrosella@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 @vast-ish @blue-automne @galaxycharmed @devilbat @kangaroobunny @end-up-well

[aelaer]

300

Tumblr’s algorithm picked up my last whumptober post and that unexpectedly rocketed me up to over 300 followers (welcome new folks, I haven’t had a chance to even look at y’all yet). But really it’s quite flattering. (I think at least 10% of them are pornbots, but beggars can’t be choosers.)

So I guess in uh, celebration/woohoo, I’m just gonna post snippets from my WIPs (outside of the whumptober ones as those are coming out in the next couple days) which… well, it’s something. :3 Yes it all has to do with Stephen, I’m going one-trick-pony mode right now and it’s a friggin blast.

This is long and has WIPs of art too, so cut cut cut bellllooww.

The farking Doctor Strange/Sherlock crossover that’s been at 80% complete since July and still has no title

However, before Sherlock got caught up into the cloak once again, he forced his eyes to the man’s hands. A lot could be discovered by someone’s hands.

And what hands they were. His eyes involuntarily widened at the sight of the ragged, and in some places hypertrophic scars on the back side of each finger. He quickly looked to the other hand; they were there, too. Clearly they were crushed in some sort of accident, but an accident that left him upright and without any hint of a limp. It was possible that they were caught in some sort of machinery, but both at the same time? Statistically speaking, a car accident was more likely. A car accident that damaged the bonnet of the car and crushed his fingers between the steering wheel and the dashboard, more than likely leaving permanent nerve damage. Unfortunate.

The age of the scars showed that they were healed over, but their nature made it difficult to determine how long ago they were received. With the overall lack of fading, however, it was likely that the damage occurred within the last few years. He could not see his palms and determine anything from there, but the callus upon his right middle finger determined which hand he wrote with. Or once wrote with, at any rate. His hands could certainly be worthy of further study, if only to attempt to determine their surgical history.

Upon his left wrist was, of all things, a wristwatch. He narrowed his eyes. It was a Jaeger-LeCoultre and it was not a counterfeit by any means, but it was not a model he recognized. It looked very similar to the Master Ultra Thin Moon only just released; was this an early prototype for a new model? Even as the question fluttered through his mind, he immediately chastised himself for his stupidity. There was clear wear on the band that spoke of it being worn for years, never mind the cracked face. 

Custom-made, he eventually concluded, though even that answer did not quite sit right with him. Regardless, it spoke of a man who had wealth— or used to, in any case. The wear and damage on the watch told a new picture now, but he seemed to still be connected to some form of influence. His clothing was of a very rich quality, and that was not including the unique cloak. Perhaps he was now connected with someone in the Greater Tibetan area, or someone of wealth in the Indian subcontinent. Or from there, at any rate. 

He let his eyes go up the length of the man’s sleeves. Cloth bands decorated the forearms of his otherwise seemingly-plain shirt, likely made of wool and hemp. He indulged himself and studied the embroidery on the edge of the cloak again. He received no further information concerning its origin and make beyond what he had already determined, but there was something about it that was absolutely enchanting.

But enough lingering; he finally turned his body to lay on his side and brought his eyes up to meet the bearer of this very odd ensemble of attire.

And he saw himself.

Within the Shadows (villain!AU) sequel that finalllyyy has a title, Inhibited Lodgings (I think this one is about at 85%! So soooonnnn)

When one of the nurses came in with dinner, Stephen hardly acknowledged him. The nurse set the tray on the overbed table and, after a quick, “Eat while it’s hot!” left the room.

Stephen ignored it. He continued his obsessive perusal of the tablet, shaky fingers managing to steady enough to click link after link after link.

Stark came in an hour later and the tray was still untouched. He quirked his brows up. “Y'know Doc, if you don’t eat, Doctor Cho is going to be very stern with you and you’ll feel terrible after that.”

He raised his head from the tablet at the sound of Stark’s voice, blinking. “What?” He then looked at the tray of food. “Oh… right. I forgot that was brought in.” He looked at the now stone-cold chicken and broccoli with a small grimace.

“I’ll have them make you another plate. Send that info up, FRI.” Stark sunk into one of the chairs beside the bed. “What has you so distracted, anyway?”

Stephen turned the tablet around to show him his screen, which had a list of all the Billboard Hot 100 and Billboard 200 for all genres in 2011. “I only considered yesterday that there might be differences in music between my reality and this one. A check to see if my favorite artists existed here turned into something of a full day project.”

Stark was clearly interested. “No kidding. Did you find any differences?”

“Dozens. In some ways it’s amazing that it’s only that many across hundreds of artists and songs, but I cannot imagine not having Rocky’s training montage paired with ‘Eye of the Tiger.’ ”

“I know I’ve seen a couple of those films, but I couldn’t tell you the name of any training song off the top of my head,” he said. “But I’d probably remember a song with that name.”

He nodded. “Exactly! I can live without the 'Macarena’ and 'Kung Fu Fighting’, but that song made that sequence legendary.”

Stark’s lips twitched in amusement. “I’ll take your word for it. Anything particularly good from your reality that you found missing?”

“I’m still debating if losing all of Journey’s discography is worth never having to hear 'Don’t Stop Believing’ again.”

Time Travel Pseudo!villain Stephen aka Freakin Carmen Sandiego (yes, this is gonna happen. But it’s not happening until those two above are completed, and it’ll be written concurrently with the rest of the villain!Stephen series, as I suspect it will be on the longer side. The outline’s 4 pages long…)

He walked over and crossed his arms as Bruce replayed the video; it was definitely a better quality than the pixelated mess of everything else he’d seen so far. Even with the high-definition, though, the man’s fully-black outfit made him difficult to see against the night sky, and his face was completely covered by what looked like both a mask and hood. He’d be all-but-invisible without the glowing lights all around him. A gasp suddenly ran through the crowd, and the camera swiveled to look at the Palace of Westminster, now bereft of the tower. A few shouts then broke through, and the camera footage swung back to the night sky, but the man was gone.

“Where’d he go?” Tony asked as he leaned over Bruce and pressed both the replay and mute button.

“Uh, according to witnesses, after Elizabeth Tower vanished, he darted under the bridge— probably at the end with the screaming there— and disappeared.”

“I thought that was Big Ben,” he muttered, pressing replay again.

Bruce shook his head. “No, Big Ben’s the bell in Elizabeth Tower. I knew someone in college— British— who got rather annoyed over that misnomer. Really annoyed, actually.” He made a face to himself.

Tony, however, was busy squinting at a bit of the footage he had paused. “Does it look like he has a sort of— something— on his chest?”

The physicist leaned in and squinted alongside him. “Yeah. I’d say it almost looks like one of your arc reactors, but I don’t think your arc reactors do this.”

“But it could still be a power source,” Tony answered. 

“Definitely,” Bruce answered. “It looks almost like he’s pulling from it.”

“That makes no sense, but a lot of this alien tech is nothing like anything that exists on Earth right now. I’d be interested in figuring out how it works.”

Bruce continued to peer at it. “So would I,” he said. “If you can keep it from S.H.I.E.L.D long enough to do so.”

Tony makes a face. “They have the scepter to play with. They can have it when I’m done.”

“You’re going to have to catch him first,” he pointed out.

“Pshh, after Loki, this’ll be easy-peasy. We’ll have him caught within two days.”

ARTS (just the two Stephens for now)

I didn’t have time last weekend to work on digital Stephen, but he’s still a lot farther ahead than when I last posted here sooooooo. (I won’t have time this weekend either, so… he’ll come sooner or later).

Annddd I figured out what my ugly yellow corner square is gonna be. I’m doing fan art for a fan fic like a real nerd. Bringing out the prismacolors again. Right now I’m still in the ‘messing around with line art’ phase. I plan to do this while I’m at tabletop gaming on Sundays.

And that’s that for WIPs. Now I need to go work on ficlets.

[iamartemisday]

Lokane Week- Convincer

“Sorry, pal, you just missed her.”

Darcy had her headphones on and her glasses off and her feet on the table. If she’d been napping before Loki came in, she hid it well. Her eyes weren’t even puffy.

Loki looked around the lab. Erik was nowhere to be seen, but neither was Jane. “I see… then she accompanied Dr. Selvig this morning?”

Darcy snorted. “He wishes. Nah, she went to go do some Secret Agent Man stuff over at the crash site. I don’t think she expects to get past the shady SHIELD dudes or whatever they’re called, but since they’ve been coming after her research, I think she just-”

Her words turned to white noise. Garbled nonsense in Loki’s ears, distracting him from the larger issue.

“Jane is infiltrating SHIELD,” he breathed, “and you didn’t think to stop her.”

“Stop Jane from waging a war in the name of science? Good joke, Luke. I needed a laugh today.”

Loki ran down the alley where no one would see him. Finding Jane’s location was easy, even in his panicked state. That he was panicking at all was a matter for another day. For now, he placed himself a quarter of a mile up the road from her truck. A black convertible spitting smoke would be prime bait for anyone, but it took standing in the middle of the road and waving his arms for Jane to connect his face with the man she’d spent weeks bouncing ideas off.

“What the hell are you doing?” She stuck her red face out the window. Lucky for her, it was a calm, sunny day with no wind.

“Can’t even be bothered to come out and help a weary traveler in need,” he quipped. It came harder than it should have. “Now I feel offended.”

She threw the passenger's side door open, grumbling to herself as Loki climb inside. His knees bumped the dashboard; his arms were stuck in an awkward position so he wouldn’t elbow her in the face. How she could function in a space so tiny, even with her far slighter frame, he couldn’t fathom. 

“I can’t take you back into town right now,” she said, hitting the gas and continuing into the lion’s den. “Your car will just have to wait.”

“I’m sure it can manage.” The illusion had already faded into nothingness. 

“What are you even doing out here?”

“I could ask you the same question. Is it not a lovely day for a drive?”

“Cut the crap. You know what I’m doing.” She stared straight ahead at the road. Had she wielded the power of Asgard, any obstacle in her way would have been reduced to cinders by her gaze alone. “Don’t try to talk me out of it either.”

Loki pursed his lips. “You know what a dangerous endeavor this will be.”

“Hey, they want me under their thumb anyway. This is just me getting in on my own terms.”

“And if you are caught?”

“That won’t happen.”

“How do you know?”

She kept her eyes on the road.

The radio was on low, a static-y song going in and out as the tires rolled down a bumpy road. Jane turned it to another station, then completely off. The engine groaned and ground with exertion. Had she ever pushed it so hard, he wondered.

“Nothing’s keeping me down except gravity,” she murmured.

“I don’t think this is quite what your father meant,” Loki remarked.

“He wasn’t the only one who taught me that.” She slowed enough not to hit any stray rocks and finally looked at him. “I’m not as crazy as you think.”

“I would never think that.”

“You wouldn’t be the first,” she said, her hands tightening on the wheel. “It’s always been like this for me, a struggle. It’s not even that I’m a woman surrounded by men. People have always look at me like a novelty. A joke. Not as someone they can take seriously. If it wasn’t for Erik, I don’t know where I’d be. Probably teaching Intro to Astrophysics at a community college somewhere.”

“There must have been others who believed in you,” Loki said.

Jane shook her head. “My mom tries, but she doesn’t really get it. My dad would’ve bought me a parachute and chartered a jet if he thought skydiving would make me happy. But you know, I’m starting to think it’s okay that I’m a joke. I know my theories are weird. I know what I’m proposing goes against conventional wisdom. My methods of experimentation go beyond unorthodox. If I were a different person watching myself, I’d think I was crazy, too. But you know what else I am, Luke?”

“What are you?” he asked. They were stopped at a fork in the road, though they both knew which way to go. 

Jane threw back her head, as glorious as a battle-hardened warrior. “I’m right.”

They crossed the last few miles at a slower speed. Jane parked with the highest most point of the base just peeking into view. Loki walked ahead of her, a double twelve steps behind them at all times, just in case of a sneak attack. If one came, he’d have to defend her, or else go and leave her to fend for herself. The latter would be the wisest choice. Surely the worst SHIELD could do is take her into custody and charge her with breaking in. 

He stood at her side as the looked down at the white tunnels and caged off epicenter housing Mjolnir. Whatever happened next, he would be right there. With her. Even if he didn’t know why, it was the truth. 

Such a strange and unnaturally persuasive woman.

Her phone rang, shattering the moment. Jane had it out of her pocket in seconds and groaned at Darcy’s name on the call ID.

“I already told you, Darcy, you can’t talk me out of this.” 

Loki focused on the speaker, hearing Darcy perfectly as she munched on potato chips and watched TV. 

“You don’t have to yell at me. I know how to quit when I’m ahead.”

“That’s highly debatable.”

“Well, screw you, too. I just wanted to see if you’re okay. Believe it or not, I’m actually starting to care about you for more than just the credits.”

Jane sighed, putting a hand on her head. “Okay, thanks. I’m fine. I just got to the site and I’m looking for a way in.”

“You ever hear that old saying, ‘sometimes the way forward is the way back.’?”

“Darcy.”

“I’m just saying. Anyway, you’re not going to believe what’s on the news right now. Remember that guy we found during the storm? ‘Thor’ or whatever?”

Loki stepped closer.

“I think so,” Jane said, perfectly unaware of his change in demeanor. “What about him?”

“Just listen to this.”

She turned up the TV until Loki didn’t need magic to hear. 

‘We’re now being told the John Doe escaped the facility sometime during the night between midnight and one o’clock. Security footage shows three to four unknown individuals entering the building and aiding in his escape. Witnesses on the scene describe them as dressed in period clothes and carrying medieval style weapons. While there have been no reported fatalities, several staff members were injured by the John Doe and his accomplices. Pictured next to me is the John Doe. Citizens are warned not to approach or attempt to apprehend the suspects as they are considered armed and extremely dangerous.’

[sserpente]

Requests are open!

WHOOOP! *throws confetti*

Requests will remain open for a full week, aka until next Wednesday, until then, feel free to send me prompts! But, please don’t forget to read my FAQ* first.

Given I usually receive more than fifty requests at once, I will select the ones I like best/I am inspired for the most but of course, I will be trying to write as many as I can.

If you’re new here, heyho there, here is whom I mainly write for:

Kylo Ren (Star Wars)

General Hux (Star Wars)

Captain Boomerang (Suicide Squad)

Harley Quinn (Suicide Squad)

Eric (Divergent)

Loki (Thor/The Avengers)

Newt Scamander (Fantastic Beasts)

Adam (Only Lovers Left Alive)

Captain James Conrad (Kong: Skull Island)

Captain Jack Sparrow (Pirates of the Caribbean)

Mazikeen (Lucifer)

Ragnar Lothbrok (Vikings) ATTENTION: I’ve only seen two seasons thus far. If you want to request something with Ragnar, please make sure not to include any spoilers!

Jonathan Pine (The Night Manager)

Thomas Sharpe (Crimson Peak)

If your character is not on the list, feel free to send me an ask. Answering previous questions, I have already confirmed that I will also accept a few requests for some Harry Potter characters (Scabior, Barty Crouch Jr., Fred & George, Draco, Lucius), Rollo Lothbrok, Viserys Targaryen and Lucifer Morningstar. In case there is any other character you have in mind, you can always ask.

*For those who access my blog on mobile and can’t read my FAQ, below the cut you’ll find the most important questions:

What should I request? Basically, anything you want. Don’t hesitate just because you think your request is not good enough or weird! If you’re still uncomfortable though, you can send it anonymously as well.

Please be aware that I only write what I am personally comfortable with. If I feel like I can’t make anything of your request, if I have already written something too similar or if it addresses something that is triggering for me, please don’t be upset if I delete it. That, of course, doesn’t mean your request sucks but I want to write stories I actually enjoy writing to please both my readers and myself.

Something you should know is that I don’t particularly enjoy writing about RC having children, being a mother (unless you count animals because I’m a proud cat mummy), or being a child. Suicide and self-harm is a no-go for me, as are gore and romanticised rape. Do NOT (and trust me, I see everything) send the exact same request you’ve sent to me to other writers as well, for I think that is rude and disrespectful. Should you do so, I’ll simply delete your request(s). If you want me to write something for you, that’s great and I’m flattered but if you send me a prompt, you either want me to write it for you or you don’t want it at all. It’s as simple as that.

How do you let people know that you’ve written/deleted their requests? If the request was anonymous, all I can do is put a note at the beginning of the story and thus make everybody aware that it was a request. I don’t copy the prompts to insert in the Imagine. If the person came off-anon, I tag them to let them know it was posted. If I choose not to write your request because of one of the above named reasons, I will not publish your ask but simply delete it. It would be mean to answer something like “there’s no way in hell I will write this” and I certainly don’t want to show anybody up. However, if you’ve been waiting for a request to be written for a long time already, feel free to ask me about it and I will, if you prefer it that way, answer you privately.

Do you tag people in your Imagines? / Do you have a tag list? No sorry, I only tag the person who requested. I don’t make exceptions, for tagging is a lot of work and I prefer to spend that time writing. Just follow me and you’ll see all my new stuff on your Dashboard at all times or even better, hit that notification button! ;-)

Would you also write about a different character if requested? That depends on the character and the request. You might have noticed that I am mostly into bad guys and villains, so you can’t expect me to write happy unicorn fluff with the world’s nicest super hero.

Anyway, you can always ask but please don’t be disappointed if I decline. Naturally, I don’t write about characters from movies/tv shows/books I don’t know, neither do I write about characters that I personally don’t like.

Do you write smut? Yes, I do. ;-)

Do you do roleplay? No, I don’t.

Do you have a masterlist? You can find my masterlist in the description of my blog.

[royalbluehues]

The Long Goodbye, Part 2

A/N:  As I’ve stated in another post, I don’t feel like I wrote The Long Goodbye very well- at least detail wise. I feel like it lacked certain elements and I wanted to slap myself for not putting in more information and background on the characters. 

I will leave the story as it is, but I’ve written another version in Loki’s POV. From there, I feel like I’ll be able to write more for the other parts.

So here is the story I wanted to write on the first try. One that was more descriptive, with more dialogue.

*$1.00 back then was equivalent to $15.58 today. Loki and Thor still have their accents.

Title: The Long Goodbye

Author: royalbluehues

Warnings: Whatever you consider to be a tear jerker?

Pairings: 1940s Loki x Reader

Part 2

December, 1942

When both brothers drove to the station that morning, little talk was made. It was a silent understandment between the two men, just how nervous the other was.

Loki had hugged his crying mother, assuring her that he would be back in time before next Christmas, though he knew she knew that that was not going to be the case.

These type of things dragged on; just like the war of 1914 that his father served in. He and Thor both had hid their draft notices from their parents, revealing the matter only a few days before. She was heartbroken, though his father was surprisingly calm.

Odin had been furious upon learning that Norway was invaded by Nazi troops two years prior, so it wasn’t surprising when a smile had split on his face, quite pleased with his sons for fulfilling their patriotic duty.  His father had given him and Thor a strong pat on the back, more than satisfied with his sons, declaring loudly for the whole apartment complex to hear, “Now if I was young enough, I’d be fighting this bloody war, too.”

Thor was ecstatic, proclaiming that he was going to be the one to shoot a bullet through Hitler, but as the day came to leave, these declarations ceased altogether.

“What’s wrong, brother? Still fantasizing about killing Hitler? Or have your senses finally kicked into how delusional that dream is?” Loki jabbed, wanting anything to diffuse the tense atmosphere.

“Can you for once, stop talking?” Thor snapped, his stormy blue eyes rivaling his younger brother’s.

Loki raised his eyebrows, puffing out his cheeks to whistle. “I see I hit a nerve.” Thor ran his fingers along the brim of his garrison cap, looking out the window of the cab.

“If you really want to start, we could start talking about her.” Thor shot back, and Loki cringed a little.

It had been a miscommunication- A girl was flirting with him at a diner you had both went to two weeks ago, and he had flirted right back, or at least that is what you pinpointed. You both were in an odd relationship; it was evident that there were harboring feelings towards one another, but too scared to actually admit them.

So, after you had refused to talk to him all night, and after Loki had called you “unbelievable”, you haven’t attempted to utter a word to him since. He did try to speak to you, showing up at your doorstep with an apology, but he firmly believed you almost attempted to kill him when a book almost hit him on the head from your second story.

He was going to tell you he was drafted that night, leaving for Europe in two weeks.  

Loki looked out the other window, brooding in silence. The cab turned the corner, the taxi driver announcing their arrival.

“One dollar,” the driver announced, taking a long draw from his cigarette.

Loki’s eyes bugged out, “One dollar? You only drove a mile.”

The driver blew out the smoke, tapping the sign on the dashboard, “One dollar, Mr. British man. Don’t like it, then walk next time.”

Loki scoffed, fishing out a dollar from his wallet, “Absolutely absurd.” He threw the dollar bill at the man, stepping out with this duffel bag in his arms, throwing the door close behind him.

The dark haired man stalked off, mumbling under his breath. “British,” he snorted, “I’m Norwegian.”

He entered the station, passing couples embracing one another, old couples sitting at the small cafe.

His hands were very clammy, he realized. Just like when he was around you. He frowned, wishing you were there with him.

He wished he could have told you sooner. He wished he would have never hid it from you. But it was too late now. He pushed his sleeve up, looking down at the watch. He had twenty minutes. “You really need to stop being so aggressive.”

Loki ignored his brother, putting the duffle bag down on one of the benches, Thor doing the same. “Yes, well, when the government puts a stop to the inflation, then we’ll come back to the matter at hand.”

“Thor!” Both men turned their heads at the high squealing voice. It was Jane Foster, the girl that Thor had been currently seeing. He was rather infatuated with her. She ran to him, and Thor easily caught her, making Loki move to the side so he wouldn’t get smacked.

“Oh baby! I was afraid I was going to miss you!” She spoke, peppering him with kisses, she caught Loki’s eye, and she smile bashfully. “Hi Loki.”

Loki gave her a tight smile, though he was sure she had barely noticed, giving her attention back to Thor. Thor grinned, the cockiness returning to him in an instant, “Well I’m glad you didn’t. I couldn’t leave without a kiss goodbye- I plan on shooting Hitler, you know.”  

Loki rolled his eyes, turning away to one of the stands. His thoughts lingered back to you again.

Would you come to send him off?

He sighed, placing three pennies on the counter, and taking one of the papers. If you didn’t come, he wasn’t able to do anything about it- he would simply write you a letter to apologize. Though, you were probably only going to get angrier.

He neared his brother again, only this time keeping a bit of distance between the two, so he wouldn’t have to hear the idiocies coming out of Thor’s mouth. All around him, he could hear the endless chatter, the weeping women, and the gruff voices of husbands.

Opening the paper, he scanned through it. Reading the things that interested him, ignoring the columns that didn’t.

In the corner of his eye, he saw a blue blur. Turning his head in that direction, his heart stopped.  There you were.

“Loki.” It was faint, but clear enough for him to hear. His eyes raked down your figure, drinking you in. You wore a navy dress, decorated with small white flowers, and over that a black coat. Your hair, in curls, looked so soft, red lips opened just a bit, clutching two parcels. You were beautiful.

You beelined straight for him, never breaking eye contact. He quickly folded the paper he was holding to his other hand, and opened his arms so he could greet you.

You knocked into him, burying your face into his chest. His arms immediately wrapped around you, listening as you spoke.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You croaked in demand, “Why didn’t you tell me? Do you know how angry I am with you?” You pulled back, looking at him, your voice thick and your eyes watering. Loki opened his mouth to speak, knitting his eyebrows together, realizing how incredibly stupid he was. “What was the use?”

The words that poured out of his mouth made you give off an expression as if though you’ve been slapped. “The use?” You demanded forcefully. He regretted even opening his mouth, but to hear you talk was honey to his ears. “Loki, you mean more to me than anything else.”

He felt something move within him when you spoke those words. You tried to pull away from his arms, but he didn’t want to let you go. Not yet. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me. I had to hear from your aunt that you were leavin-”

“You care about me?” Your eyes were angry, but he knew it was because of what he was asking. You hit his chest softly.

“Loki, are you that daft? I thought you smarter.” He noted the way your eyelashes curled up, how long they looked because of the mascara you were wearing. “I love you.”

You hung your head low, and a smile broke out on his face, but it quickly faded when your frame shook. “How could you leave without saying goodbye to me? I thought I meant more to you.”

He cupped your cheek, forcing you to look up. His green eyes locked with yours, and mentally cursed himself for seeing you cry. “I thought you wouldn’t want to see me.”

“You need to stop thinking about just yourself.” You snapped at him, the ferocity returning in your eyes. You turned your head, “How long do you have? Before you leave?”

“Ten minutes.”

You looked back at him, your eyes filled with sorrow. You shook your head, and you gave a bitter laugh. “Ten minutes. That’s all we have- ten minutes.”

Your teary eyes darted around the station, but his eyes were stuck on you. Why didn’t he tell you before? How could he have possibly thrown a whole week away? “In a few minutes, you’ll be heading off to Europe. And leaving me behind.”

Those words weighed him down. What could he possibly tell you? That he’d be back before next Christmas? Even a talented liar like himself knew when not to tell such misconceptions.

His tongue felt leaden as he looked into your eyes.

“Please,” you whispered in a strain, “please, don’t go. The army has enough men volunteering. You don’t have to go. Stay with me.” You raised a hand to stroke his cheek, the feeling more than welcoming. “We’ll run away, you won’t ever have to deal with Odin agai-” You stopped, gasping for breath.

“Darling,” his throat was tight, “you know I can’t. I’m so sorry. I have to go, my father…” He trailed off, watching as you tears silently fell, and he wiped them away. You reached to grab his wrist, leaning into bury your face in his chest once more.

“This isn’t fair, by God, this isn’t fair.”

“It isn’t,” he agreed, kissing the top of your head.

“All aboard!”

He squeezed his eyes shut, wanting to just hold you forever. Damn the war. He felt you pull back, and he opened his eyes, meeting your distraught ones. “You come back to me, Loki Odinson. You come back to me, you understand? I don’t care if you come back with one eye or one leg. I don’t care,” your chin quivered, “you come back to me. Promise me.”

He nodded slightly, his mind not able to fully comprehend how he allowed precious time to just slip through his fingers. “Always.”

He watched your eyes skim over his face, as if you were memorizing him. You were so beautiful right now, he thought- this image searing into his mind.

The light from the windows above illuminated your face, elongating your eyelashes, shining on the waves of your curls, making them look almost artificial.

“I brought you and Thor some things to take with you,” you presented him with the parcels, which he took, letting go to put them on the bench where his duffle bag was.

“Thank you,” he licked his lips, his heart beating faster as the time to leave was approaching more and more faster. “You’ll write me?”

You lifted a hand to wipe away your tears. “Everyday.” He took this opportunity to put you into his arms again. “You won’t forget me?”

Your voice tremored, and annoyance pricked at him in the inside. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’d sooner forget Thor than you.” He growled. He threw all caution into the wind and kissed you, reveling in the way your lips felt. His hand wound into your curls, and he could smell the perfume you were wearing. When you both separated to breathe, resting his forehead against yours. “I’ll come back to you, that I can promise.”

With closed eyes, you nodded and he let go of you. He gathered his belongings, clutching the parcels, and walked away. He couldn’t look back at you again, doing so would only make him want to stay.

He wasn’t going to say goodbye. He wouldn’t dare. Because though he didn’t know how long he would be gone, he knew he’d eventually be returning to you.

Part 1 (The crappy version)

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