#loki episode five

[truebookkitten]

Please remember that Loki said this

[annoyingboing]

what in the rom com did i just watch

[mobius-m-mobius]

Loki S2 Anniversary x Episode 1 - "Ouroboros"

[lokiusly]

me waiting for Natalie Holt to drop Loki: Season 2 - Vol. 2 (Episodes 4-6) [Original Soundtrack]

[mayhasopinions]

i've been screaming about it over on twitter but i have the need to say here that lokius is lookin real canon. it's real. goodnight

[broadwayfan92]

Loki admitting that he just wants to save his friends. He’s grown so much!

[oopsgracie]

my thoughts on loki season two so far…

i’m really struggling with this season of loki because i want to love it but why so many filler episodes? i feel like this did nothing to develop plot or relationships or even loki as a character. true, i do like the whole OB as a science teacher come wannabe bestseller and his role in helping loki control time slipping, and i enjoyed seeing their original timelines but i feel like this could have been done differently, perhaps not in less time, but in a way that made it feel like loki genuinely connects with these people. i don’t remember him having a conversation with b-15 about anything other than the T.V.A, similar situation when it comes to casey although they’ve had more screen time together. if his life’s new glorious purpose is wanting to reunite his friends and restore order, then put some effort into making their bonds with loki and each other more authentic?

can we also talk about why sylvie and loki weren’t reset, i know this might be answered next episode, i just hope it doesn’t become a plot hole.

we’re so often reminded that he’s a god, but it seems to be that everybody else has forgotten he’s the god of mischief, chaos, that this man invaded the whole of new york less than a month ago. with some good character development, or even a plot in which he questions his choices and desires and finds this motivation within himself later, maybe i could believe that he truly wants to restore what he has always sought to remove, but i feel like the loki i saw in this episode is no different to the loki i met at the end of season one, or even s2ep1, when his biggest concern was sylvie’s wellbeing, except that he’s done a one eighty in what he believes and has become this blindly led hero figure.

also loki and sylvie in general, i know it’s unpopular (coming from somebody that really loved their relationship) but also integral to the first season. you can’t erase a relationship that has already driven the plot of six episodes and dare i say most of loki’s character development? except apparently you can, because that seems to be what the writers have chosen to do. push any kind of tension you like, have him hate her for what she did, have him try to do everything without her and fail, but at least give them some screen time? what happened to her being his glorious purpose? what happened to finding a place on the timeline together? what happened? i love mobius and OB, but they don’t replace the dynamic of two loki variants trying to navigate the ideas of a multiverse, order against chaos and what it means to be loved. that’s what made season one so compelling and now it’s been replaced with a vapid quest to fix up a rusty old loom. i don’t know if people who disliked their relationship were listened to and that was the catalyst for such a change, and i get that it’s not for everyone, but if that’s the decision they came to at least break it off in a way that works with the storyline rather than immediately end it with no explanation. no character has mentioned how they’re feeling after everything’s gone down and with such clear moments in which these conversations could have been had, they just didn’t. the pie room— with both sylvie and mobius, the bar scene, the ferris wheel. i feel like i’ve heard sylvie say the same few lines over and over again, that she hates the T.V.A, hates HWR, wants to be free from the time fascists and make her own choices and then she leaves. even after loki speaks of thor, they talk but they don’t say anything that’s hasn’t already been understood. it goes nowhere and feels unsatisfying, like we’re going round in circles which ironically, but i suspect unintentionally, seems quite fitting with the story.

this season has its moments, i just wanted something of substance.

that’s not to say i don’t enjoy watching it, any loki content is content i’ll find joy in and i truly love the concept of this season, exploring time loops and the ouroboros, how terrifying kang is made out to be, sylvie realising she needs the T.V.A, science and time-travel to hunt down a rogue miss minutes and renslayer (who doesn’t love loki in a suit?), but i think that what matters (loki, his development and his relationships) has been executed poorly, sacrificed to advance the MCU rather than the series, which seems a shame when they had already been so well established coming into the second season, or maybe my expectations were just too high. i almost hope they don’t push any intense friendship/love interest moments in the final episode when it’s all been so neglected.

absolutely no hate to those who feel differently i just needed somewhere to point out all my frustrations :)

[lunarspiral1127]

*SPOILERS*

Oh my freaking god, is Casey Frank Morris?! 😨

Okay, I had to look this up to be actually sure and yeah, I think this is the Alcatraz escape attempt in June 1962. Casey's a prisoner in Alcatraz called Frank. One of the other guys is called John according to the subtitles. So, that has to mean that Casey is Frank Morris before the TVA, and the other two guys are Clarence and John Anglin. It's the June 1962 Alcatraz escape attempt.

Honestly, I was NOT expecting that to be Casey's past life at all! Wonder what happened to make him be taken away to work at the TVA.

[i-loved-silly]

WOLVERINE x READER x DEADPOOL — fuckup twinsies

dp&w spoilers!!

So I had a silly idea. Sorry if it’s out of character, I haven’t written for canon characters in a fat while but these two are stuck in my head. Enjoy :3

POV: you’re a dimension hopper : sent to the Void as a punishment for doing your thing. Damnit

Dust. Sand. Desert. That was all you knew ever since you were banished here. The place you were basically forced to call home—funnily enough, (actually it’s rather sad) you had forgotten what your real home was. A large, and I mean LARGE amount of timeline touching and dimension hopping does that to you.

By spending years of visiting dimensions and maybe messing a couple things up, you damaged your own timeline. Simply because you wanted to take Mr Captain America’s shield back to your home dimension. What can you say, a little artifact doesn’t hurt, right?

Except it did.

Now you’re stuck here, and honestly? It’s fine. You had nothing to return to anyway. At least you thought. TVA explained it that way, anyways. Everything was fine. You spent your years here surviving and avoiding Cassandra Nova by making your own little underground hobbit hole. How cute.

Everything was the same everyday—you hid out, occasionally left to find food and materials, came back to safety. Until one day you heard something while out scavenging—almost like distant yells? From above you??—You looked up and was shocked to see two figures falling out of the sky and barreling straight for you.

"OOMF --" You were thrown onto the sand on your back, you swore you felt a couple bones break...or something. All your belongings in your little ripped backpack went flying around you and the others stabbed into your back. Then there was the weight on top of you. A muscular , red, and talkative weight.

"Owww, oh fuck, that hurt. I hit bones. I just hit someon--oh." Deadpool groaned, snapping his elbows back into place to get a good look at you. He blinked. "Well lookey here, who the hell are you? Wait, did i kill them?" He gasped as he saw your pained scowl.

Wade frantically shook you by the shoulders. Getting hit by something from that high should have killed you. You coughed, ugh...your whole body hurt. You don’t remember if you gave yourself overpowered abilities before hopping into this dimension…or the last one. Was it during the time you went to the Loki-verse? Season one, episode five? Nah.

"Get off of them," Logan grunted, dusting himself off from his spot a few feet away. Hey, at least you weren’t hit by both of them. "See what you did, you fucking idiot? Get away from them."

"Woah, okay! First of all, it's not like I wanted to crash into someone like a wrecking ball, got it? I am not Miley. But look, they're fine!" He shook you by the shoulder again and you spat out a bit of blood.

"Guhh..." You groaned, rolling over. Yep, your bones were definetly crushed.

"We're not here to poke around, Wade. We're on a mission." Logan glanced at your beat up form wearily--oh well, if you weren't dead by now you'll be fine.

"Fine," Wade let go of you, letting your body flop back onto the sand with another "thud" on impact. "Oops, Im sooo sorry. I-..oh come on! Don't you have at least a little bit of a curious tickle? They can help us." He whined, gesturing to you and to Logan.

"They're a stranger, bub. Just...leave em there." He hesitated, then grunted and turned the other way.

You groaned in pain again--seems like they're your only lines--and sat up on your elbows. Your head was pounding and suddenly it was too bright outside. "W-wait..I’m fine..just let me.." You pressed your palm against your forehead.

Wade leaned down in front of you, placing his hands on his knees. "Oh, you're alive. Good. Why are you here, little buddy?"

You tried laughing nervously but a cough interrupted you. Right, there was sand in your lungs. "I uh...couple years ago I touched a timeline I shouldn't have. More like, a lot of timelines. Kinda-sorta fucked up."

Wade let out a loud gasp and placed his hands on the sides of his face, then made a giddy noise. "Eek! Fuck up twinsies! You heard that, Logan? We aren't the only dimensional fuck ups!" He was oddly enthusiastic, the scruffy guy in the distance wasn't so much.

Actually now that you think about it, he seemed a bit enraged. Just a bit. “Who the hell is we?”

"Who are you again?" You muttered, grunting as you worked on standing up. Wade extended a hand and you took it, before you could thank him—he quite literally yanked you up by the arm like a fucking ragdoll. You hit his chest and your eyes widdened.

"How the heck do you not know me? I mean you probably don’t know him, that sexy beast of a man is Logan, professionally Wolverine. Not a very good one though. Anyway, I'm Wade Wilson, but you can call me Wade. Or Deadpool. Or the Merc with a Mouth. Or the Chimichanga Bandit. Or—"

"Wade, shut the fuck up."

Wait.

“Wait, you’re Deadpool and Wolverine? Like the real ones?”

PART 2

[lizzyiii]

His Lady Love (6)

pairing | aemond targaryen x vampire!mikaelson!reader taglist | to be added to the taglist just add your username to this DOC word count | 6.3k words summary | all I'm gonna say is blood and cheese. tags | death, angst/comfort, vampire powers, blood (lots and lots of blood), trauma? aemond and reader can't keep their hands off each other, reader don't play when it comes to helaena, canon divergence note | i still haven't gotten over blood and cheese and phia saban's phenomenal acting in that episode. why is there so many oc fics in the aemond x reader tag (no hate). also contemplating writing for loki and oswald cobblepot (penguin in gotham)

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated ✨

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 - 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

“I am happy that my mother has let you become my lady-in-waiting,” Helaena murmured, her voice lilting like a gentle breeze.

“As am I, Princess-” you paused before correcting yourself, “My Queen—the presence of the children brings me much comfort.”

“They eagerly anticipate your visits each day,” Helaena replied with a softness in her gaze that seemed to light the room.

Seated beside the young prince Jaehaera and Jaehaerys, whose precocious spirit was beginning to shine, you cast a fond glance at Jaehaerys, who was determinedly practicing his High Valyrian. Leaning closer, you offered him an encouraging smile, “What does this mean, Jaehaerys?”

It had taken some time for your bond with the young prince to flourish. Unlike his sister, who was as lively and eager as a summer’s day, Jaehaerys was quieter, more contemplative. Yet, you noticed that now whenever you attended to your duties for Helaena, while Jaehaera would chatter your ear off cheerfully, her twin would subtly gravitate toward you, seeking comfort as you played delicately with his soft, silver hair.

“Per—perzis ano...anogor?” he stammered, his timid voice breaking the air with a hint of uncertainty.

You couldn’t help but inwardly smile at his effort; the correct pronunciation was “Perzys Anogar.” After five years spent in the sun-kissed lands of Essos, you had perfected the various dialects of High Valyrian to perfection. Yet, your encouragement for the young prince remained unwavering. At just four years old, his intelligence astounded you. “Very good, my sweet prince. And what does it mean?”

“Fire and blood!” Jaehaera exclaimed with unrestrained enthusiasm, hastening to answer before her brother could. Her eyes sparkled with delight, clearly eager to capture your full attention. Jaehaerys shot her a sidelong glance, his lips pressed together in a playful pout, while you directed your gaze to Jaehaera with admiration. “Well done, dear princess.”

"My Queen," came a maid's voice, cutting through the tranquil atmosphere of Helaena's solar. Both you and Helaena shifted your gaze, "Prince Jaehaerys is summoned for his lesson with the Maester."

Helaena, who sat gracefully upon a pile of richly embroidered cushions, her needlework perched delicately in her lap, regarded her son with a tender smile, her serene demeanor offering him encouragement. "Off you go, Jaehaerys," she urged softly.

The small prince nodded earnestly. Before following the maid through the heavy wooden doors he turned to offer you a shy wave, a glimpse of the warmth that sparked beneath his young exterior. As the sound of his footsteps faded into silence, you turned your focus back to Princess Jaehaera, who was nestled in a nearby chair, fixated on the pages of a book filled with tales of dragons and valor, Jaehaerys had been reading. After awhile, your attention shifted as the sound of eager footsteps resonated through Helaena’s solar. You turned to see Aegon striding purposefully toward you and Jaehaera.

"Lady Mikaelson," he acknowledged with a courteous nod, his gaze lingering upon you for an unsettling moment, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine before he redirected his focus to Jaehaera.

“Where is Jaehaerys?” Aegon inquired, a frown settling deeply between his brows, betraying his impatience.

Helaena’s voice was soft as a whisper, yet it held a steady resolve. “Attending his lessons.”

“And those are where?” Aegon pressed, a hint of mockery threading through his tone, forcing back the urge to scoff at his impatience.

Helaena sighed, a delicate sound that barely pierced the air. “What do you need of him?”

Aegon’s lips thinned, “Taking him to the small council,” he announced, straightening his back with lots of fervor, “He'll be king one day, he must begin his instruction.”

With an eye roll barely concealed, you turned to braid Jaehaera's sweet, silver locks, weaving strands as your thoughts tangled around Aegon’s words. Helaena’s brow furrowed slightly, and you caught the hesitation in her voice. “What if he does not wish to be king?”

Aegon’s huff echoed in the chamber, annoyed, as he leaned closer, palms pressing against his knees. “Where is he?”

“In the library,” Helaena replied, her tone tinged with reluctance. “But you must not disturb his custom.”

Aegon, ever dismissive, shrugged off her words and stepped toward the door. Yet he halted when Helaena's voice pierced the silence once more, "I am afraid."

He pivoted on his heel, regarding her with feigned nonchalance. "Don't be. They'd be fools to come with Vhagar protecting the city."

"Not the dragons," Helaena murmured, her gaze dropping to the cold stone floor. "The rats."

Aegon, along with the attendants, followed her gaze, their eyes scanning for any signs of the vermin that might lurk in the shadows.

"The queen is an enduring mystery," Aegon declared, casting a mocking glance at Helaena. "Is she not?"

With that, he departed, leaving a chill in the air. As soon as he crossed the threshold, you rose from your seat and moved to Helaena’s side, offering her a warm smile. "You need not fear the rats; the castle is filled with rat catchers."

Helaena’s frown deepened, her troubled lilac eyes meeting yours as she whispered with conviction, "That is what terrifies me."

Words escaped you, for you understood that Helaena possessed knowledge beyond the grasp of ordinary folk—truths unacknowledged and often dismissed. Instead of voicing your confusion and uncertainty, you simply clasped her hand in yours, offering the silent comfort.

Your gaze shifted, drawn by the soft, deliberate sound of footsteps as they echoed through the confines of Helaena's solar. As you looked up, your heart raced, a rhythmic thudding that quickened with warmth flooding your cheeks and fluttering butterflies stirring restlessly in your stomach. Aemond strode through the door, an unmistakable presence that demanded attention.

It was true what you'd confided to him: you were still a maiden. A maiden, after five centuries of vampiric existence, because how could you interact with any man when Nikaus, Elijah, and Kol perpetually cast watchful shadows over your every move. You recalled a particular moment in 1001 AD, when a reckless infatuation with Tristan de Martel had nearly led you to surrender your maidenhood, only to be halted by Finn’s stern intervention—a chastisement you still felt the sting of.

But Aemond was different. His presence was a siren's call, compelling and irresistible. You had lost yourself in the depths of his gaze, willingly surrendering to the passion that enveloped you, and you never wished to escape the intoxicating spell he wove around you. The ecstasy of your lovemaking had been a revelation, a visceral experience you had never dreamed possible. Despite your initial attempts to keep a distance, Aemond's determination had eroded every barrier you'd erected, and then, as you laid in the warm afterglow of those stolen moments, regret was a distant memory.

In that act, surrounded by pleasure, Aemond had awakened a sense of aliveness within you that you had not felt since you had died. His touch and words made you feel cherished, loved—deep down, you had longed for this connection. Mere days had passed since you had shared that intimate bond, yet every time your eyes met his, unbidden warmth flushed your cheeks anew.

He lingered his gaze on you for what felt like an eternity, an unspoken connection hanging heavily in the air, before directing his attention to Helaena. "Sister," he began, his tone both respectful and confident, "might I steal a moment of Lady Mikaelson's time?"

Helaena glanced between you and Aemond, a subtle spark of understanding dancing in her eyes as she nodded, a gentle smile touching her lips. "Of course, brother."

Rising slowly from your seat, you were acutely aware of the curious gazes from the other ladies in the room. Yet, before you could fully separate yourself from Helaena's side, her hand shot out, delicately grasping your wrist. "Will you come to bid Jaehaerys goodnight before you retire?" Helaena's voice slipped through the air like a delicate melody, inviting yet tinged with uncertainty.

You offered a reassuring nod, your voice soft and warm. "Of course, My Queen."

With that, you turned to Aemond, his patience evident as he awaited your move. As you stepped into the dimly lit corridor, the sound of his footsteps fell steadily in rhythm with yours. Once you had retreated far enough from the safety of Helaena's chambers, you paused and turned to him, your voice laced with curiosity, “What did you wish to—”

Before you could finish your sentence, Aemond's hands cradled your face, pulling you into an unexpected kiss. Surprise rippled through you, manifesting in a soft gasp, but you quickly surrendered to the moment, your lips responding to his with eager warmth. An exhilarating pulse of intimacy washed over you as you opened your mouth, inviting the dance of his tongue with yours, a sweet entanglement that momentarily erased the world around you.

When at last Aemond broke the kiss, his breath came heavy and laden with unspoken emotions, and he pressed his forehead against yours, that mischievous violet eye glinting with resolve. "I plan to go to the small council to announce our betrothal."

Your breath caught in surprise as you took a small step back, trying to comprehend his words. “Betrothal?” The weight of his intentions settled heavily on your heart.

A marriage with him would be folly; he was a prince, destined for heirs and an aging legacy, while you—a vampire—would remain eternally youthfully beautiful, bound to a dead womb. Yet his audacity ignited a spark of indignation in you, prompting a petulant response, “Aemond, you didn’t even ask me.”

A small, infuriating smirk played upon his lips, a faint acknowledgment of your protest. “Will you marry me then?”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms defiantly. “How very romantic of you.” The gravity of the moment drew your expression into something more serious as you continued, “Aemond, we are bracing ourselves for war—planning a wedding now would be utterly misplaced.”

“It will be a beacon of hope for the smallfolk,” he argued earnestly, the conviction in his voice palpable.

"At the cost of the kingdom’s coin," you countered sharply, your voice laden with reality.

He dismissed your worries with a wave of his hand, as though to sweep away the logic. “Then we’ll have something modest—”

“Aemond,” you chided softly, lifting your hands to cradle his chiseled face. At your delicate touch, he fell silent, his fierce demeanor momentarily quelled. Deep down, you were acutely aware that his determination to wed you would remain unyielding. In a bid to find common ground you decided to offer an empty concession, “Let us marry after the war.”

His solitary violet eye bore into yours, piercing deeper as if seeking to unravel the very essence of your soul. "You swear it," he demanded, his voice a low thrum of intensity.

Inside, a tumult stirred; 'No,' your thoughts whispered, for you could not predict the war's course. The Iron Throne rightfully belonged to Rhaenyra, and the Blacks appeared poised to triumph. Yet, your heart was tethered to the Greens, bound by an affection that defied reason. The weight of it all threatened to crush you, leading you to contemplate escape back to your world, to your family—a choice that would certainly bring Niklaus's wrath upon you.

But with a deep breath, you embraced the moment, nodding serenely as you wove your words into a gentle lie. "I swear it."

Aemond's gaze lingered in your eyes, a moment stretched between you like the fragile threads of fate. As he nodded, a wave of relief washed over you, warm and undeniable. Yet, as if sealing your pact, his lips found yours once more, igniting a tempest within your heart. The weight of your deception pressed heavily upon you, yet you surrendered to the solace of his kiss, seeking refuge in its intoxication.

The kiss deepened, evolving into something more fervent, as Aemond gently ushered you backward until your back met the cold stone wall. His tongue danced with yours, a fierce desire eclipsing the trepidation that lingered in your mind, as if he sought to claim not merely your lips but your very essence.

A sudden noise pricked at your senses, the swift approach of footsteps echoing through the hallway. In a flurry of instinct, you pushed Aemond away just as a servant passed by. The servant’s gaze flicked towards you, then promptly fell to the ground, yet you could almost feel the unspoken thoughts swirling in their mind. A shiver of apprehension ran through you; you knew whispers would soon scatter among the servants like leaves in the wind.

As the footsteps faded into the distance, Aemond clasped your hands, his grip a mix of desperation and longing. "I yearn to be with you again," he mused, his voice a low rumble that resonated deep within your core.

"I feel the same," you replied softly, bringing his hands to your lips in a tender gesture, savoring the skin you coveted.

Alas, the moment was fleeting, as the sound of hurried footfalls approached again prompting the two of you to separate once more. Aemond exhaled, a hint of irritation lacing his tone. "And yet, in this castle, we are forever denied our privacy."

You tilted your head, curiosity piqued. "What do you propose?"

He paused, a flicker of hesitation in his gaze, before his lips parted to reveal his audacious suggestion. "The Street of Silk."

"Aemond—" you interjected, surprise and concern overtaking your thoughts.

"Calm yourself," he urged, his hands finding their way to your waist, drawing you closer, the warmth of his body burning away your reservations. "We would seek only a room, nothing more. A night enveloped in our own secret, away from prying eyes."

A hesitant sigh escaped your lips, your heart fluttering at the prospect yet tethered by caution. "Aemond."

In a tender gesture, he kissed your forehead, followed by soft pecks on your cheeks, then lingered with his lips brushing against yours. It was pathetic how quickly you melted under his affection, yearning for the contact that ignited a fire within you. His voice, barely above a whisper, danced against your lips, "Tonight?"

With a surrender that surprised even yourself, you acquiesced. "Alright." His eye sparkled with triumph as he finally pressed his lips against yours, granting you the sweetness you craved.

Yet, he broke away, his breath mingling with yours. "I shall meet you at your chambers—"

"No," you countered softly, concern lacing your words. "It would be dangerous for us to be seen leaving the castle together."

He regarded you with a stern expression, a protective glimmer in his eye as he shook his head. "Fleabottom is no place for a lady to wander alone."

You smiled gently at his earnestness, reassured him with conviction, "I’ll be fine, Aemond. I promise."

With a resigned sigh from you, he leaned in to steal another kiss, the taste of his resolve lingering. "Then it is settled. Meet me at the Blue Pearl tonight."

“I will,” you vowed, your mind clouded by the intoxicating pull of his presence, rational thought slipping away like sand through fingers.

The Keep lay shrouded in an eerie silence as you stepped into the dimly lit corridor from your chambers. The air was thick with an unsettling stillness, as if the very walls held their breath, rendering the castle a hollow shell. With purpose, you made your way toward the Queen’s chambers, determined to fulfill your promise to Helaena and bid the twins a gentle goodnight.

You wrapped your cloak tightly around your shoulders, bracing against the biting winds that swept through the stone hallways. A sense of foreboding clawed at your thoughts, quickening your steps as you approached Helaena's solar.

As you neared her chambers, the quiet was shattered by a pained whimper—a sound that sent a chill racing down your spine. Without hesitation, you pushed through the door, only to freeze in shock at the scene before you. A filthy man loomed over Helaena, his grip merciless as he held a knife to her delicate throat. The metallic scent of her blood hung heavy in the air, as you noticed a small nick on her neck.

Your instincts flared to life, propelling you forward to confront the intruder. But before you could move, strong arms encircled you, halting your advance. "Who the fuck is she?" the brute growled, his gaze locked onto the man who held Helaena captive.

“She’s the queen she is,” the crazed man replied, a sickly laugh escaping his lips, his gaze dancing between you and Helaena, relishing the chaos.

“A son for a son, he said,” came the rough retort of the man holding you, his grip tightening like a vice. “Does she look like a fucking son to you?”

The realization struck you like a bolt of lightning—revenge. These madmen had been sent by the Blacks, likely by Daemon himself, to claim a son in return for Lucerys Valaryon.

Pointing with a blood-stained finger, the deranged man holding Helaena, gestured to the cribs across the room, where Jaehaerys and Jaehaera lay asleep, vulnerable to the whims of fate. “Over there,” he sneered, a glint of madness flashing across his eyes.

A chilling wave of nausea washed over you as dread seeped into your heart, realizing the intent behind his actions. Yet, even with the unfathomable power you possessed, you hesitated. You could kill these men in mere moments, reduce them to shredded pieces, but the fear in Helaena’s wide eyes anchored you. You could not afford to frighten her further.

“Release her,” you commanded, your tone a blend of authority and menace, ever mindful of the trembling figure of the queen. “You do not know the darkness you invite with your intentions”

The grip of the man holding you tightened, his fingers like iron shackles, deaf to your words. Instead, the madman holding Helaena chortled, an unsettling sound that grated against your nerves. "We need to get our head and get out."

A simmering rage ignited within you at his vile insinuation, your voice turning low and menacing as you retorted, "If you dare imply what I think, know that your life shall end before you can ever look upon the prince."

The large brute, his bulk a grotesque parody of strength, pressed his clammy hand against your throat, constricting it as he growled, "Shut your fucking mouth, woman."

In that chilling moment, Helaena found her voice, her eyes wide with terror as they darted between you and the man’s tightening grasp. "I have a necklace," she stammered, her heart echoing her fear, "It's of great value."

The man holding you scoffed, his eyes narrowing with disdain. "That’s not a son."

His grip tightened further, but to you, it was nothing more than the grasp of a mere mortal, a fleeting nuisance. With an air of fatalistic calm, you shrugged, “I’ve warned you, and now you shall reap the consequences.”

As the darkness of your true nature surged, crimson flames ignited in your gaze. Veins suffused with blood snaked under your skin and the sharp glint of fangs elongated in exquisite hunger. The man holding Helaena faltered, the smile that once adorned his lips vanished, replaced by a primal terror as he regarded you. “What’s—what’s happening to your face?!”

Confusion roiled in the eyes of the man who had once held your throat captive. Before he could fully comprehend the depths of his error, you moved with the swiftness of a striking snake, your head whipping around as you buried your fangs deep into his pallid flesh. His scream reverberated like a death knell against the stone.

With one fierce tug, you tore into him—a vicious rip that sent a warm spray of blood cascading over your face, painting your features in hues of crimson. The brute’s body slackened, his grip fading as life bled from him like the night fleeing before dawn. He crumpled to the ground dead.

Your attention shifted, a predatory glare now focused on the other man, who quivered holding Helaena securely but fearfully at knifepoint. His confidence wavered as your fury ignited the air around you, and he stepped back, terror threading his voice, “If you come any closer, I swear I’ll kill her—”

In a heartbeat, you were before him. Your eyes cooled to an earthly hue, compelling yet cold, as your voice held the weight of your compulsion. “Step away from the queen."

The resolve in his eyes shattered, obedience taking root as he released Helaena, fear transforming into a savage obedience. But that was not enough; oh no, they would pay dearly for their actions. You stepped closer, lowering your voice to a whisper laced with venom. “Now… stick your knife in your throat.”

Tears cascaded down his cheeks, streaming with unspoken horror as he felt the weight of your will. Whimpering like a child at the mercy of a storm, he struggled against the compulsion, but your magic throbbed through the air, binding him tighter within your grasp. The dagger trembled in his hand before the metal found flesh, cutting deeply as crimson blessing spilled forth. He gasped, choking as despair overwhelmed him, stabbing again and again until his last breath escaped into the silence of the room, and dropped to the ground.

In the wake of such violence, as blood pooled and splattered across the cold floor, your features softened, the fierce gleam fading from your visage. Your fangs retracted, and your eyes reverted to their natural colour, the monstrous visage slipping away like a shadow at dawn.

A tumult of emotions swirled within you—fear, regret—until your gaze flicked to Helaena, ready to face the disgust you expected. Yet, as her eyes met yours, confusion twisted within you; there was no horror, no disgust in her gaze—only a profound relief.

You took a hesitant step back, bewildered by her calm demeanor. "Are you not afraid of me?" you questioned, your voice barely above a whisper.

Her brow furrowed in genuine confusion as she softly said, “You saved us."

You realized she might be still grappling with the shock, as she drifted across the room, her movements fluid and deliberate. She bypassed the gruesome scene left in your wake, retrieving a handkerchief with an unsettling nonchalance. Approaching you with a tender resolve, she reached forth, seeking to wipe the blood from your face. Her touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the brutality that had just unfolded.

Yet, as the fabric of her care swept across your skin, your brow furrowed at the sight of tears beginning to brim in Helaena's eyes. “Helaena—what's wrong?” you implored, clasping her trembling hands firmly within yours. “You need not fear; all is well now, you are safe.”

Her tears continued to spill softly, tracing delicate paths down her pale cheeks, as she whispered in a voice that seemed to drift like a dream, “I thought I was lost in one of my dreams. I did not realize it was the truth laid bare before me.”

“It was,” you replied gently, your voice a quiet promise. “But it is over now.”

“If you had not been here, Jaehaerys would be—” she faltered, her composure cracking as a choked sob escaped her lips.

You could only watch her, sorrow etched upon your face, as she turned away from you and hurried to the crib where Jaehaerys slept, oblivious to the tempest that had transpired around him and his sister. Slowly, she lifted the sleeping boy into her arms, his silver hair catching the light like stars against the night sky. She cradled him tightly, swaying gently as if to soothe not just him, but the remnants of her own grief.

“They almost took my boy,” Helaena murmured, her voice a soft lament, entwined within the strands of Jaehaerys’ hair, as if she sought comfort in his very existence.

Aemond exhaled sharply as he finally approached the entrance of the Blue Pearl, its facade gleaming with a deceptive allure. He paused for a moment, memories swirling like smoke from the incense within—each recollection a weight pressing down upon him, reminding him of the last time he had stepped through these doors.

As he crossed the threshold into the brothel, the atmosphere assaulted his senses: the heady scent of incense mingled with the intoxicating sounds of fervent moans and whispered promises that echoed through the dimly lit chambers. The air was thick with a palpable energy, a collision of desire and desperation.

Maintaining a cold and stoic demeanor, Aemond navigated the labyrinth of shadowy corners and silken drapes, his singular focus on securing a room where you both could retreat from the burdens of the outside world, if only for a fleeting night. Under the enveloping darkness of his hooded cloak, he radiated an aura of menace; others instinctively parted before him, quaking under the weight of his dangerous glare.

However, his composure faltered for just a moment when he felt a delicate hand brush against his arm. A surge of indignation coursed through him, instincts honed to ready his strike against anyone who dared encroach upon his space—anyone, that is, who was not you.

Yet, upon turning, he found himself face to face with the last person he wished to encounter. Madam Sylvi, the proprietor of this establishment, stood before him, her presence a haunting reminder of a past he had sought to forget. She was the first woman to lay claim to him, a forced initiation into a world of shadows that had snatched away his boyhood, all at the insidious urging of his brother. Aemond's heart raced, caught between the clutches of anger and the bitter taste of old wounds that threatened to resurface.

"My Prince," she began, her lips curving into what she believed to be a beguiling smile. To Aemond, however, it appeared more akin to a grimace painted upon her features. "What an unexpected pleasure it is to see you once again in these halls."

Feeling a tide of shame wash over him, he averted his gaze, staring intently at the carved wooden floor beneath his feet. “All I seek is a room,” he muttered, his voice barely a whisper.

"And which girl shall I send to warm your bed?" she teased, her tone dripping with seduction. Then, with a coy pause, she added, "Or perhaps you are in need of a woman instead?"

He clenched his jaw, his frustration rising. “Just a room,” he insisted, his voice firm, yet faltering.

She let out a soft, lilting hum, feigning disappointment. “A shame,” she purred, her fingers trailing along his arm—a gesture that made his skin crawl. “But know that my arms are always open, especially for you.”

The urge to retaliate surged within him; he imagined the swift, savage justice he could enact. Yet, he found himself rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the memory of their past encounters—memories that danced like shadows in his mind, haunting him still.

Clearing his throat, he risked a glance in her direction, his resolve strengthening. “A Lady will come through your doors. Instruct her where to find me.”

With that, he turned on his heel, striding away before she could utter another word.

Not long after, five figures had made their way into Helaena's solar, their presence a stark contrast to the brutality that had enveloped the chamber moments before. A maid, having spotted one of the trespassers who had slipped into the shadows, acted on her apprehension and sought out a guard.

This led to Lord Otto Hightower being summoned, and he, it seemed, was the sole soul present who maintained the decorum expected of his station. He had seized Aegon with the kind of authoritative grip one might use on a mischievous pup caught reveling in intoxication on the Iron Throne, before promptly calling for Lord Larys.

In due course, Queen Alicent and Ser Criston appeared, ostensibly by chance, though you with your keen senses could detect the unmistakable scent of their shared intimacy lingering upon them, a confirmation of their clandestine liaison.

You sat beside Helaena, who cradled Jaehaerys to her chest as if to shield him from the undercurrents of chaos swirling around them. In your arms, you held Jaehaera, both twins blissfully unaware, lost in the serenity of slumber.

“Who dared to do this? I demand to know! Who is responsible?” Aegon's voice erupted, slicing through the stillness with an edge of fury. News of the attempted assassination against his son had ignited the embers of his inebriated stupor into a roaring blaze of rage. You cast him a disapproving glare, a silent rebuke for his outburst, mindful of the slumbering children.

“The man uttered, ‘a son for a son, he said,’ I suspect he was referring to Prince Daemon, Your Grace,” you interjected softly, your voice a steady balm amidst the tumult.

Alicent, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, approached Helaena, settling beside her. She reached out tenderly, her fingers brushing against the peaceful features of sleeping Jaehaerys, you could see how guilt was feasting upon her soul.

"These villains, these traitors," Aegon spat, his words laced with venom. The anguish of nearly losing his heir carved lines of distress into his face, revealing that beneath the hardened exterior, perhaps Aegon did possess a heart capable of love. "My son is my legacy. My son is heir to the iron throne!”

His gaze then turned, sharp and accusatory, to Ser Criston, whose presence loomed in the doorway. "And where were you, Ser Criston? The Lord Commander of my King's Guard slumbers while my blood is threatened?"

You noted how Alicent’s expression tightened with concern as she cast a furtive glance toward Criston, who stared resolutely at the stone floor, his shame palpable. "I was abed, Your Grace, having dispatched orders to the Night's Watch," he replied.

"Abed?" Aegon echoed, incredulity lacing his words. "While your post was to safeguard the sanctity of my family?"

The Hand let out a weary sigh from his position at the periphery of the room. "Calm yourself, Aegon. The prince still lives," he interjected, attempting to quell the rising tide of tension.

"Yes," Aegon yelled, his attention shifting to you, "only because of Lady Mikaelson. A woman! All of you should hang your heads in shame."

You inhaled sharply at Aegon's jab, which he unknowingly let out. Lord Larys, his gaze insidious and lingering, leaned forward with a slithering curiosity. "What I truly wish to understand is how you managed to subdue two fully grown men, my lady."

The weight of every gaze in the room now turned to you, even Aegon momentarily relinquished his tirade to await your reply. You spoke with steady conviction, "I grew up among five brothers, My Lord. The dance of a blade is not foreign to me." Your voice joined the whispers of the past, your eyes glancing at the first man you had killed. "The first was a brute, slow in his approach. The second, however, was a madman, blinded by insanity."

"It matters not how she accomplished it," Aegon interjected, his impatience barely concealed, "The only thing that matters is she saved Jaehaerys' life."

A wave of relief washed over you as the next figure entered Helaena's solar, a dim light spilling in from the hallway. Aemond's gaze instantly locked onto the grim scene before him, his single eye widening as it fell upon the two lifeless bodies, bloodied and sprawled across the elegant stone floor. “What has happened here?” he demanded.

Aegon's temper flared like wildfire at the sight, stepping forward to confront Aemond, but the latter remained unruffled, his expression a picture of cool composure amidst the turmoil. “And where were you, while my son lay nearly murdered in his own bed?”

“On patrol, brother,” Aemond replied, his tone smooth and casual, though the lie dripped with an unsettling ease. His eyes then landed on you, his brow furrowing as concern flickered across his striking features. Ignoring Aegon entirely, he approached you, noting the streaks of crimson marring your skin. “Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice softening.

As his hand reached towards your face, you instinctively recoiled, acutely aware of the watchful eyes surrounding you both. “It is not my blood, Your Highness,” you assured him.

Aegon's voice roared again, filling the solar like a tempest. “What course shall we take now? How do we retaliate?” His frustration echoed off the walls.

You could hear Otto Hightower’s resigned sigh. “This is not a moment for rash vengeance, Aegon. Perhaps there is some good may yet come of this.”

“I will not be seen as weak,” Aegon ground out, determination hardening his features.

“You’re already seen as weak, Aegon,” Otto replied with cold clarity, counting off each grim incident, “A hasty coronation, a dragon escaping the pit. The people see an omen. They whisper in the streets. They say, perhaps Rhaenyra should be queen.”

"Let us thus feign that the deed is done, that her assassination was successful." He paused, his keen gaze settling upon the slumbering form of little Jaehaerys. “You would name her: monster. Slayer of infants. I would do more than that—a funeral procession. We shall construct a small casket for Jaehaerys and let the realm gaze upon the handiwork of this pretender who seeks the crown.”

“Your grand design has a singular flaw, Grandsire,” Aegon spat, stepping protectively in front of Helaena and the sleeping child, his posture defiant. “Jaehaerys lives. His existence cannot be kept hidden within these stone walls; word of his survival will soon seep through the cracks.”

“Not if we send him away—this very night,” Otto replied, his voice resolute, a calculated glint igniting his gaze.

“No,” Helaena murmured, instinctively tightening her embrace around Jaehaerys, as if her warmth alone could shield him from danger.

“No!” Aegon echoed, his tone thunderous compared to Helaena’s whisper. “It is far too dangerous for him beyond these castle walls.”

“And yet,” Lord Hightower replied, his tone sharp as a dagger, “he came dangerously close to death even within them.”

“Then where shall he go?” Alicent broke her silence, her voice carrying the weight of desperation.

The Lord Hand fell silent, his brow furrowed in contemplation, before his keen gaze shifted toward you. “Lady Mikaelson,” he began, a shrewd glint of ambition glimmering in his eyes, “your family resides in the Reach, do they not?”

"Indeed, Lord Hand," you replied smoothly, a lie slipping from your lips with practiced ease. You anticipated his intentions even before he continued. "We lie just beyond Golden Grove."

“Ah, that lies near Highgarden,” Otto mused, his mind racing with possibilities before breaking the stillness of the room, “The Tyrells have pledged neutrality, rendering it one of the scant havens in all of Westeros. Thus, it is decided: Jaehaerys shall journey there with Lady Mikaelson tonight. She has protected Jaehaerys once and now she will do so again.”

Aegon, his fingers brushing through Jaehaerys's soft curls as he rested, sighed in reluctant agreement. "Very well, but I demand that half of the White Cloaks accompany them."

Otto scoffed derisively, shaking his head. "No, such a show of force would raise too many suspicions. We can spare only two, perhaps four at the most."

"It would be swifter and safer by dragonback," Aemond interjected, his voice threading through the tension in the room. You turned to meet his gaze, which seemed to be focused only on you, "I can take Lady Mikaelson and Jaehaerys upon Vhagar."

Otto Hightower’s brow furrowed in disapproval. "That would be far too conspicuous."

“Then I shall accompany them,” Aemond asserted, his determination hardening like steel.

"No," Aegon countered firmly, his tone brooking no dissent. "We need you here."

Before Aemond could mount another argument, you rose from your seat, gently moving the sleeping Jaehaera into Alicent's waiting arms. Your voice rang out, steady and resolute amidst the rising tempests of conflict. “It is alright," you spoke clearly, “I will go.”

If Aemond ever met the Mikaelsons...

Names that are in bold are ones that couldn't be added :(

@barnes70stark @izabell26 @anyisaravia2001 @urdeftonesgrrrl @helo1281917 @strangefunthornqueen @ellie-xOxo @hueanhdang @elenapri0502 @goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog @caged-birdies-blog @darktrashsoulbear @lenavonswartzschild @writtenbyhollywood @gl4ssw1ngp1xy @goddesslilithmoriarty @sunset18rose @filmflux @esposadomd @sara-grimes-yess @littybeech @gyneve @https-kokomi @void21 @yariany02 @baby-w3-ar3-infinite @baby-i-can-see-your-reylo @niktwazny303 @ln8118 @missyviolet123 @caribbeangal @ggukiespace @levimaids

[fanatic-writers]

Loki Drabble

A/n: Just a little thought I had while watching the new episode of Loki. Requests are open!

Word Count: 844

Pairing: Loki x TVA!Reader

Summary: The three times Loki sees you in the past and the one time he finally catches up to the present

Warnings: Unedited, Season 2 spoilers ish

You were at your desk in the TVA when you heard the commotion of your coworkers gawking at someone in front of you. “Y/n,” a strange man gasped as his hands came to cup your cheeks “gods darling you have to help me.” Your brow furrowed in confusion as you moved out of the man’s grasp. “You have five seconds to explain why you’re grabbing my face and calling me darling before I prune you.” You huffed in response, hand already searching for your weapon. “Darling, it’s me. It’s Loki.” He raised his hands in surrender as you shoved your time stick in his face. “Loki!? You mean the variant I’m supposed to be hunting down Loki?” You raise a brow, charging up the weapon and preparing to use it. Loki looked hurt, defeated even, as he seemed to melt into despair “You-you don’t remember me?” He frowned “I remember it's my job to get you off the timeline so the world doesn’t end.” You spoke as you lunged towards him. Loki was quicker though, sprinting through the hallways as you called for backup. You turned around a corner after him and heard a sort of yelp before you watched him seemingly get ripped from the universe. “What the hell was that?” You frowned as you looked to the men around you who just shrugged in response.

He had been moving through the TVA for a while now, through time more than space it seemed. He felt his body being ripped apart and pulled back together, he kept his eyes closed for a moment before he registered a scream that sounded oh so familiar. “Y/n?” He started hands already up as he approached you apprehensively. He’d had his fair share of run-ins with the past yous now and he just wanted you to recognize him. Maybe this was the actual war that He Who Remained had promised him. A war inside himself every time he saw you and you didn’t recognize him one bit. Didn’t remember the fight you’d put up for Mobius to keep him around, didn’t remember the adventures you’d been on with him. “Please don’t hurt me.” You mumbled and it was then that Loki realized that this you was different from the others. You were younger, the emotions you usually kept steeled away were present on your face, the main one being fear. He took a cautious step toward you “I could never hurt you.” He mumbled, looking into your confused eyes. He opened his mouth to speak again but before he could he was being ripped away once more, his hand reaching out to you as if you could save him.

“Where the hell do you think you’ve been?” Your voice echoed down the hallway as you marched up to Loki, looking decidedly pissed. “Darling-“ He started but you stopped him before he could get to far. “I stuck my neck out for you and then you escape?” You huffed, arms crossed over your chest. “I should’ve just let Mobius kill you after your little movie but no, I felt bad, and this is what it gets me.” You paused for a moment in your rant “And stop calling me darling, it isn’t going to win you any brownie points.” It must’ve been his first day he realized a little too late as you began to slip cuffs over his wrists and drag him back to the room he was held in. “You’ve got the wrong guy.” He tried to explain but even he didn’t know if he would be able to talk his way out of this one. “Oh, so there’s some other you running around wearing the exact same clothes doing the exact same thing as you?” You raised a brow as you shoved him into the room. “Honestly, for the god of lies, I thought you’d be better at the whole talking your way out of things. I mean seriously ‘you’ve got the wrong guy,’ I’m not a child Loki.” You mocked his voice as best you could and he couldn’t help the small smirk that came to his lips, remembering the other times you’d done it in far less serious matters. “Stop looking at me like that.” “Like wha-“ “Loki?! LOKI! What the hell!?” You looked down at the cuffs that had fallen to the floor and sent a message to Mobius that Loki was still at large.

You were walking out of the war room the next time he spotted you “Y/n, I don’t have time to explain but you know me and I need your help.” “I know I know you?” You looked at him confused “I’m more concerned about the whole appearing in front of me as a stringy flesh monster.” Loki breathed a sigh of relief and wrapped his arms around you “I love you darling, please don’t forget me again.” He paused for a moment pulling away to look at you “Stringy flesh monster?” “I’d say that’s a good way of putting it.” Mobius piped up from behind you.

[truebookkitten]

In Season 2 of Loki, the first four episodes left me feeling terrified of what will happen next. But after watching Episode 5, Science/Fiction, I realized that it left me feeling hopeful. I’m looking forward to what will happen in the next episode. Episode 5 ended in a way that made me feel optimistic. I’m not scared of what will happen next. I’m excited.

[annoyingboing]

WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT HOW MOBIUS / DON WAS FULL ON READY TO DECK LOKI WITH THAT THING

[mobius-m-mobius]

Thinking back to the Loki finding Sylvie at McDonalds for the first time in s2 … I was SO curious how Mobius would react after his jealous fit over Sylvie in s1, and tbh on a first watch I was a bit disappointed, despite a proper double-take over the opposites attract line. I suppose I was primed for disappointment anyway, having assumed that for all the first ep was so much more than I’d hoped for, it would from here on invariably be pure Loki and Sylvie romance.

But now. The season having been That. Oh boy does the scene hit different!! Sure it’s not the blowout that is Mobius’ jealousy in s1; rather it’s transformed by now into a far more tragic resignation. He seems to have decided that if this is what will make Loki happy, he won’t stand in his way, but oh boy did I miss all the tells of how *hard* he is shoving all his emotions away to get there. The way he attaches himself to *Brad* rather than have anything to do with the reunion. The way he keeps yanking himself from his general air of grave heartbreak via strange outbursts at Brad, from going off at him before there’s any shred of evidence of double-dealing, to strangely enthusiastic assertions of how strange and cool life is. The way he tries to muster a grin when they see Sylvie really is there, and he, god of folksy cheer for all—can’t. The way he tries so hard not to watch Loki and Sylvie and to steer the conversation away from them, but his eyes get sort of stuck on them every time he glances their way.

And just. Above all. The way the season drives home over and again and again that the way Mobius deals with discomfort and emotions he doesn’t want to face is a). Comfort food, and b). Distract himself by talking to whoever is handy, even if the only folks available for talking are people he isn’t especially close to or friendly with. And going back to the scene with that in mind, well whaddya know, guess what our boy is up to !!!!!!

Yes yes YES to every word of this anon!!

As a lover of how pettily obvious Mobius was in S1 with his jealousy I was also looking forward to seeing what his reaction to Loki and Sylvie meeting again would be, and like you had expected something almost equally as brash as the interrogation scene but it turned out what we got was as good if not better in so many ways 👀👀

The way he hangs back as Loki approaches her, trying to look as casually friendly and nonthreatening as possible before IMMEDIATELY bee lining to get some apple pie when we'd only just established the key lime been a major comfort of his at the TVA?? Babe we see you and we're here for you 😭

That alone already had me waiting to see what extremes he was about to go to but I wasn't prepared at all for how the forced cheer from eating his meal fell aside the second Brad brought up not understanding what was going on with Loki and Sylvie outside, then that hint of bitterness we rarely see in "they say opposites attract? No." What a line, and he's so clearly thinking of how easily he and Loki fit together in comparison that as he continues hearing about how weird Loki and Sylvie are you practically see the thoughts racing through his mind range from agreement to a momentary embarrassment he thought that at all, then resignation and finally defeat because if this is what Loki wants he'll support and be there for him just like always.

Cue his default reaction to push his own feelings out of existence in favor of everyone else's (especially Loki's) as he plasters his usual positivity and charm back on, taking Brad's attention away from the window and towards a change of subject he knows is guaranteed to work without coming across as suspicious because there's nothing Brad would enjoy talking about more than himself and of course Mobius is such a great analyst that it worked a bit too perfectly 😅

[kaleidoscope-vol2]

People always talking about Loki and Don in episode five but I want to hear Tom and Owen talk about Loki and Mobius's final scene together. It's the most emotional scene of the season and is what convinces Loki to save everyone, even though he doesn't want to leave Mobius!!

[smolvenger]

Reunion (Loki x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Summary: The sacred timeline is destroyed. And your missing, mischievous lover has returned. A confrontation and a fear of abandonment and betrayal with his return still bring about the passion you have for each other.

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Smut! Smut! 18+ (P in V sex, dirty talk, doing it in an office). Discussions of the fear of death, abandonment, and being cheated on- but don’t worry Loki is faithful to reader and would never. The Loki and Sylvie relationship is made platonic as it should have been all along for the sake of the fic. Not as super revised as usual but it's not a rough draft, I just wanted this out quickly while we had the first episode as our main focus.

Comments, reblogs, dms, and asks about my work are always appreciated!

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract (smut starts at the line "Too long- Too long" and ends at "At once, he pulled himself up" for your comfort, bestie) @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr @meowmeow-motherfucker @marvel-fanfic-lover @animnerd @twhiddlestufftuff

@goddessgirl143 @lunarnights95

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

A/N: With all the gifs out, I got the inspiration from the first episode. Wanted it out before the rest of the series makes me disappointed so I can go to delulu land again here. I hope you like it!

“OB! Better hurry up before your latte gets cold!” you called out. In your hand was a paper bag with the warm food and the other was a cup holder with the big cup of coffee. It’s a sweet smell just under your nostrils. 

It was a messy room with clutter on the floors and tables. They were all broken gadgets- more than you could name. All for that circular little room like OB’s circular little glasses. Well- it was understaffed. Only dear Ouroboros, or OB as everyone called him, fixed all that technology for the TVA. He was on the other end of the room piecing together a broken tempad. He then jumped around, grinned, and began to prance over to you from his main desk. The man was as happy as a squirrel it never occurred to him that he was lonely, overworked, and sleep-deprived. He insisted on working constantly without breaks- so you always thought he could use some caffeine and a bite to eat. 

“Oh! Y/N! Hello! Let me hurry over!” he chirruped.

 You set the bag and the cup on the desk before him, glad to see him so happy over your delivery.

“Here- it’s a large vanilla latte but I added two shots of espresso. I know you always pull all-nighters. And here- here’s your breakfast. I added a pastry in as well too. You could use the sugar rush.”

He peeked into the bag. He pulled out the food and began to unwrap it, his smile going up to his ears.

“Oh my gosh! A ham and egg on toast and a chocolate croissant!? My favorites! Oh- thank you, Y/N!” he said.

You smiled up at him, placing your hands on the desk.

“No problem- anything for the hardest worker here!” you responded.

He took a first sip, his eyes always bright. He let out a satisfied exhale from the delicious taste. Then he peeked over up at you, both hands on the warm cup.

“How are you, Y/N!? I don’t mean to pry but there’s this rumor I heard from B-15! Is it true? I heard you have a boyfriend! You never told me a word about thim-how is he?!”

It hit you like a kick in the ribs. You paused. Letting out a deep breath-suddenly the mood darkened. But, you could not pretend, even with OB, that you were worried about your lover. Your mischievous, divine lover. 

“OB, I know you’re not going to believe me. I know it’s kind of frowned upon- but it’s allowed. But my boyfriend he’s…he’s a Loki.”

“A Loki?” he repeated.

“Yes- The Loki. The one who tried to invade Loki- the one we all caught. I mean- he’s been here a while. I got to know him and…well, we fell for each other,” you explained. 

“Oh! Wow! Well-how does it work, an agent and a Loki?” he questioned.

“We- we find a way. I’ve just been-been worried about him. He had to go- go take care of something. You know the whole thing about timelines being messed with and the other Loki running around causing trouble? Something is up- something serious. He’s been gone for a bit- it’s been a few days. I haven’t heard anything directly from him. He could be dead by now. And there’s something else. The other thing is…is…”

You put a hand over your mouth, the gripping, biting urge to cry hitting you. But it was too strong. Your anxieties were a dam long contained and here they were out. OB set down his coffee to listen to you. Then you continued, the most private fear of yours confessed. 

“The Loki is a woman Loki. He’s with her to take care of this issue. That’s all I know. But it’s been a while- he’s still with her. And she’s powerful and strong and pretty and good at everything and perfect…. and how could I ever compete with her- and he’s-he’s already tossed me aside by now and left me for her by now and-”

Your voice cut off. You felt yourself about to cry. You squinted your eyes shut and looked down, putting your hand to your face-hot and tight. Finally, you lowered your head to the desk and began to cry.

“Oh- Y/N! It’s okay! There-there! You know even that kind of betrayal is low for a Loki! I don’t think most would even think of doing that- their trust is hard to earn! It will work out- shh, shh” he consoled, patting a hand on your back.

You returned up from the desk, tears streaming down your face.

“Oh- Y/N! Here- have some tissues!” OB offered. 

He got out a little plastic box from the corner of the desk. You pulled out one of the white tissues and wiped your eyes.

“Oh, Y/N. No wonder you’re worried. If you ever get sad about him or scared- you can visit me!” he offered.

“Even with all your work?” you asked, sniffling. 

“Oh, even with all my work! It’s nice to have company sometime!” he answered, nodding his head.

“Okay, I will…”

“Worst Case Scenario- I can fix a taser and just do it on him!” he offered. 

“Thanks, I’ll aim for the balls,” you replied.

Both of you broke into a bit of laughter. Then you said your goodbyes, and OB went back to work on the tempad with the sandwich in his free hand. 

You went about. Wiping tears off your hand. Maybe it was good to do just some office work. Focus on that- yes. It was comforting- to have something to consume your thoughts, your worries. If there was still a heart beating in his lover’s chest or if it stopped. Or if he abandoned your bed for the embrace of someone else. 

But then you heard- Kang was killed. The sacred timeline destroyed. It was an emergency, yet every single agent was running like a chicken with their head chopped off. 

Everything was going into chaos. The sacred timeline was destroyed. Everything was now free and open. Every timeline was shattered and now anything and everything could happen. Ravonna shoved paperwork into your chest.

“Here- Y/N! Take these and get them to HR! Now!” she requested. 

You clasped a file full of paperwork. Then you set off, clutching it to your chest. The view of the tall buildings, statues, and everything always makes your chest soften with its beauty. The bright lights. The sheer size of the place. You let in a deep breath to admire the sight. 

There was a noise. Footsteps. Intuitively, you turned your head for the sound. And the source ran before you.

Loki.

His shirt was a little torn in his rolled-up sleeves and his eyes wide, but it was him. His shirt was sweaty and tight. Buttons askew. His curls wild and free. He was more beautiful than you had ever seen him before. 

He paused, screeching his steps to a halt. You let out a small scream in spite of yourself, dropping the papers to your feet. Down they came in a cascade to the floor. You covered your mouth.

“...Y/N…” he panted out.

“Loki…is it…is it you…”

From the back, there was a voice crying. “There he is! Get him!”’

He looked in a panic and then turned around.

“Y/N- I’m-I’m-I missed you. I love you-but-but-but-”

More charging footsteps. He looked over at the balcony.

“Meet me down there!”

In a heartbeat, he threw himself over the balcony. You ran over.

“Loki- no!” you cried.

You looked down and saw him fall down through the air- but you knew the air would land him. It would be soft. Mobius ran by you- eyes wide. The agents, armed and ready. You peeked as he fell down, down, down. 

Not after- no- not after this time! To lose him again!

You ran. You chased him until you were breathless. Things were falling. TVA agents went after him. But you were steadfast- your heart racing in your ears. What mattered more was him. Timeline be damned- it was already. There was nothing else to do now, that mattered- but him!

You sprinted down the steps. Ran harder and faster. Tears threatening to come out.

He’s back- he’s back- he’s back!

“Loki! Loki I’m here! Don’t you-don’t you dare you fucker- you bastard, I’ll-” you cursed, breathless as you reached the last steps and got out to the floor. 

You looked around the place- searching, searching everywhere. Technology was malfunctioning- sparks flew from computers and screens. Agents everywhere still scattering. Alarms still went on, blasting into your ears. Agents were running all over the place. You looked around-seeing everything. Checking every room as people ran about. As a group gathered to watch the timeline break into pieces on a screen- you didn’t hear him behind you.

You felt two strong arms grab around you and pull you to a corner- a hand over your mouth so you couldn’t scream. Someone got you! But you could smell his sweat, his scent. Your eyes turned over-it was none other than your beloved Loki. 

“Y/N- here- we have to hide!” he said.

He practically dragged you over to the next room, shutting the door and locking it. It was a smaller, private space. A TVA office room was abandoned. Nothing but desks full of papers and computers but not a soul. Only the giant screen above detailing the sacred timeline’s downfall. Though you still heard alarms. The bustle of people from just outside. So much going on. But it was background noise to you now. You stood your ground, your hands gripping the skirt you wore for work. 

Loki went over and hugged you, your hands went up to embrace him back but were frozen mid-air.

“I needed to help the timeline!” he cried, releasing the hug. 

“You are needed here!” you insisted.

“Kang is at the loose- he has variants! I’ve been betrayed-”

“You think you’re the one betrayed!? What’s this I hear about a woman Loki you’ve been with?!”

“Wait- you mean Sl-”

In a heartbeat, you raised your hand and slapped him hard across the cheek. His head switched to the side, and the click of your hand hitting hard against his face echoed in the empty office. He caught it and nursed it with his hand. Tears fell down you again.

Then he quickly leaned over and grabbed yours. He pulled you to him, forcing you to look him in the eye. The red light of the alarms all over the office- turning red, then the familiar wan yellow of work. It glowed against his white skin, making him seem even more beautiful. 

“Y/N, I swear to you on my mother’s grave-she is no more than a sister to me! We worked together. No more than that. She kept telling me to shut up about you. Because-because I missed you so much and kept telling her how wonderful you were! I thought we could work together- but she didn’t. She did the one thing I begged her not to do- she broke the timeline- And now- now everything’s fallen apart-”

“I waited all this time and not a word from you!” you shouted. You didn’t care if it was petty. If it was being a helicopter girlfriend. You had stuffed your worries inside you for too long, and now it was out in the open. “Loki- I Was scared for you! You could have died and I would have never known!”

He put both his large hands on your face. Looking right at you.

“Y/N- with all of my heart- I am so sorry I vanished.” 

You had no words. He kept speaking to you, soft despite the chaos. Your mouth opened a little, but you had no words. You saw Loki was crying a little too as he continued. 

“If I could write to you- teleport to you- drag myself to your feet and beg for you I would! If I could even teleport to look at you- one tiny glance at you. To say one word to you- I would. It was impossible. But the stakes were high. I had to hurry. I did this because I feared for the safety of every person here- and most of all for you! Do you understand how scared I was when I saw how powerful Kang is!? That his variants could hurt you?! Norns- thank norns. I’m alive to see you again. To see you, hear your voice, touch you- Y/N, you’re safe-that is all I want. For you to be safe. Can you forgive me?”

You raised a hand to touch his.

“Loki, I…I…I’m so sorry I yelled-I…I forgive y-”

You never finished. His lips cracked onto yours.

 He groaned and you settled into it. He was needy- desperate. Too long, too long. You had forgotten how much his lips, his touch made you weak and craving more every time. His hands all over you. He turned you around, so you felt his erection against your covered ass. So he could kiss you, touch his hands over your breasts. He was kissing every bit of your neck he could, almost like biting into you- devouring and savoring you all over again like the first night you joined. He pressed his hips a little further so you could feel his hardening and you let out a gasp.

“Hel, do you feel what you do to me-even now-they’re all out to prune me again, to catch me, and all I want is your sweet warmth inside me-”

There was a slight explosion upstairs. The building shuddered. He kissed you further. Grinding a little into your hips. You felt your own panties suddenly dampen as if you stepped in a lake. You let out a gasp. He kept kissing you- his hands all over your nice, professional blouse and dress. Fingers wide to touch you, memorize you again. You turned around tugging at him-kissing him so much. Feeling his holster on his back-running a hand through his soft, beautiful curls you loved so much.

“Y/N-Y/N please-please-take me inside you- now-It’s been too long-”

“Yes- Yes, I will,” you voiced.  

The floor was shaking a little, there was a rumble like a small earthquake. People’s desk decorations, plants, and photos, were beginning to wobble if not fall over. He gathered your skirt up.

“Quick- be quick darling-they’re looking for me. We don’t have time,” Loki rasped.

He pulled you down. Holding you so that he laid down and you were on top. You clutched at his buttons. Hands shaking, ripping them apart- displaying his body, so pale, muscled, beautiful. His large hands went up to your hems, your tights. He grabbed your legs so hard- so close to him. Never to leave. Fingers digging into your skin. 

“Gods- my beautiful, desperate goddess- come on, dear- just spread your legs-now- hurry-”

You could hardly breathe as he took your skirt and bunched it to your hips. Exposing you to him. You began to grind on him- keeping yourself in the heat of your desire for him. And his for you, nearly ripping it further. He then took his hands over your breasts, your shirt-ripping buttons that came off-they splattered on the floor. Your chest exposed like his.  He kissed and touched your breast. Then in a split second, his hands went to your soaking panties.

“Nrgh- this- now this is what I need-no-no time- forgive me-again-”

 He then moved his hands up and his strong arms flexed as he ripped your panties in half.t- ripping so that your pussy was out and exposed. With trembling fingers, you went down to his pants. Quickly unbuttoning it. He adjusted his hips so that he was out.  He adjusted himself quickly, so his cock came free- so large and hard.

“Darling-just-just let me- let me-here-” he breathed out. In a second, he pushed your hips down so he sheathed inside you. You let out a gasp- he fit well- already all of him in. 

You spread your legs and got on him. Immediately setting at a pace. Fast, desperate. There was another shudder and papers flew. He began to thrust. Your breasts bounced in turn- it was hitting the right spot, a deep spot. So quick and deep, you were letting out moans. But with the alarms and cacophony of sounds you blended in. 

“L-L-Loki-I-I-” you breathed out.

He thrust thrust thrust so fast in you- it was so out of control. You were losing your breath. Another sound of electric and you let out a moan. You took a trembling hand. You found one of his daggers, despite the pounding into your bouncing body. You took it out-holding the blade to his throat, still thrusting. 

“If-If you ever- ever cheat on me I will-I’ll kill the both of you!” you hissed. 

He only smiled as he felt the blade.

“Yes- Y/N- to be killed by-by-fuck- you. Even- Even a god would want to die like that.”

He then gripped your arm and tipped it around so that it was thrown out of your hands onto the floor. Then he gripped your hips, thrusting still at that pace. Keeping you there. His hands move to feel your skin, memorize you.

“Yes-yes-Yes there-there, sweet girl- you’ve missed this cock- I’ve missed this sweet pussy of yours-wet and desperate-”

He groaned as he thrust into you. Your breasts in your bra bouncing, almost coming out. You reached a hand down- feeling his shoulders- his exposed chest with the little hairs. His hand reached down. Your clit was swollen and ready. He began to play with it- meeting the wild, desperate pace of his thrusting. Papers flew from the desk over the floor. 

“Lo-Loki I- ah! Yes, I- ah- fuck-just-just keep…keep going yes-”

He groaned, his neck straining-

“Yes- little goddess here- I-do -I-I I- fuck-what about you and those men at the TVA-shit-leering at you- can they-nrgh- give you pleasure- no other agent- no other person- can- can dare-dare touch you-you’re mine, all mine-none can fuck you here-yes- keep-dammit-dammit- just cum, cum, my dear-just-”

He pounded you into a fury- you bounced around, so much it was getting too much, your pleasure going up, you could feel it building- you gripped onto his shoulders, feeling everything about to clench. Rising up, up, as wild as the alarms blaring around you. 

‘Yes-Yes-Loki- I’m-I’m goingtocumI’mgoingto-”

Your voice kept hitching up high, then higher. Like little gasps, almost small screams- the near release. He kept at his pace.

“Yes- yes, my dear- go-go I’m about to-yes-go with me darling- cum now, cum sweet gril-Cum, dammit-CUM!”

With a high gasp, it broke on you. Everything in your muscles released. You got dizzy. You felt his own cum shoot out inside you. Your breath was held and you felt him relax beneath you. He pulled out of you.

 At once he pulled himself up, touching your forehead. All the noise had gone- there was just the two of you now. Not wanting one bit of you apart.  

“Y/N- I promise. Nothing is going to keep my little pet away from me. Whatever happens now- we face it together.”

You nodded, nuzzling into him. It seemed the panic had settled. The alarms and lights went back to silent normalcy. Even with the chatter and footsteps, here in the little office, things seemed peaceful.

“Loki- I understand. You have great, important things. You’re doing the right thing- but…if I can be with you- if there is anything I can do to help- I’ll do it.”

“I love you so much- and I’ve missed you so much, my Y/N.”

“I’ve missed you too,” you replied. 

Getting up, you helped each other readjust your clothes. Button back each other’s shirts. He kissed you again and you both hurried out clutching hands. You didn’t know what would happen next, but his hand was in yours. That was all you needed for now.