#loki fandom I say this with love: please grow up I fear you in your current state

[3ggling]

Is… is there an option to fully support ‘platonic relationships can and should absolutely be just as meaningful as romantic ones’ and ‘there’s a good chance the subtext wasn’t even intentional or maybe was never there at all’ and ‘they made the heartbreak tweet and named one of the songs Lokius and put thematic parallels and at this point are probably doing this on purpose’ and ‘it really shouldn’t matter who Loki ends up with because it’s not meant to be a romance, it’s meant to be about him as a person’ and ‘personally I would really like Loki and Mobius to end up together because I think they’re cute and very compatible’ and ‘I like Sylki but I think Disney is doing it wrong’ and ‘fucking hell Disney give us some decent homosexuals already’? My head hurts.

[thrndlngs]

@the-fandoms-georgie

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷     A CURSE, natasha romanoff.

pairing: natasha romanoff x gn!asgardian!reader. genre: drabble with HELLA ANGST. warnings: character death + endgame spoilers. a/n: set in endgame. this made me cry lol. hopefully you guys enjoy it. i took a different approach to this so, hopefully it’s still enjoyable! also, reader is the asgardian god/dess of war :p  inspo: poem + another love (slowed down) by tom odell.

                         12 HOURS PRIOR.

     "SO YOU’RE GOING BACK TO ASGARD, HUH?” natasha asked as she approached you, offering a peanut butter sandwich as she straddles your lap while taking a bite of her own peanut butter sandwich. you decline it, which only makes her shrug her shoulders and continue to take a bite out of both before snaking her arms around your neck.

   “you’re doing the thing again.” 

   “i’m not doing the thing again.”

   “yes you are! you’re doing the ‘i’m a big bad asgardian whose forming a strategic plan on how to conquer a planet’ face.” she teases, mimicking said facial expression as you roll your eyes (almost) half tempted to throw her onto the couch you were sitting on. you know, for dramatics. 

   “just worried that someone will spot us. you know, with thor and i’s status and the talking, uh,” you trail off, canting your head a bit as natasha corrects you with an infectious laugh. “a raccoon.”

   “yeah, a raccoon. i could only hope that everything goes according to plan and that we manage to retrieve the Aether.”

   “you’re a horrible liar.” 

   “gods do not lie.” 

   “there’s a first time for everything honey.” 

   it’s your turn to laugh now, hands resting at the small of her back as you take in a breath. leave it to natasha to see right through you. “it will be hard going back.” you can’t bring yourself to finish the sentence and natasha doesn’t force you. she only brings her hands to your face to trace soothing circles against your cheeks, offering that reassuring smile that had pulled you from some of your darkest times.

   “ — i know. i could only imagine what it would feel like going back home.” 

   you scoff, lips pursed as you look over her features, mirroring her smile. “you are.” 

   and she doesn’t understand it - not at first. you loved asgard. it was your home. in another lifetime though. you’ve grown to learn that asgard isn’t a place - asgard is it’s people, traditions - the will and strength to continue on in dire stances (kind of like now). but natasha, natasha was your home now. even if she wasn’t a place. she loved you inside and out. she didn’t see the god(dess) of war or the commander. she saw you, for you. the raw product of fighting battles that weren’t yours to begin with. 

   natasha saw you as someone who was forced a blade and told to fight. so maybe, the two of you are one in the same - just weapons to a cause. maybe that’s why she loved you. maybe that’s what attracted her to begin with, the ‘shared life experience’. she doesn’t know what it’s like being someone of your status - but she does know what it’s like to have your childhood stolen.

   and it hits her. you were referring to her. “i’m nothing compared to asgard.” her tone is a bit more serious now. 

   “you’re the liar now.” you tease, quickly stealing a kiss as natasha rolls her eyes. 

   “i’m serious. the way you talk about it—”

   “someone once told me that home is not a place. it’s where you feel safe and loved - it’s something you feel in here,” you poke at the place where her heart is, a childlike grin on your face as natasha rolls her eyes. again. if only the others could see how corny you truly were.

   and now it’s her turn to remain quiet, fingers trailing your tired features as the two of you sat there in silence. it isn’t until you pull at the ends of her hair that she finally says something to you (but it’s not directed at you, she’s just rambling at this point).

   “i’m not - i’m flattered but i can’t.. i just —”

   “baby,” you cut her off, taking your free hand and using it to turn her attention to you, offering her a soft smile as you laughed at her sudden ‘flustered’ expression. it’s amusing the effect you have on her - even after all these years. “you are my home. i feel safe when i’m with you. i am at my happiest when we are together. home is wherever i am with you. i love thor. i loved the king and queen. i loved asgard and my people, but it was never my home. asgard took everything from me and you, natasha, are the one who helped me see that i am more than what odin forced me to be.” 

                        4 HOURS PRIOR.

    “DON’T BE A HERO TWINKLETOES,” you warned, pointing an accusing finger in her direction as she holds up her hands in her defense as the two of you walked up to the platform. you let out a very audible sigh as natasha takes ahold of your hands and starts to make a very hushed sly comment on how the suit doesn’t do your hands justice. it makes you blush which prompts another comment on how natasha has more bragging points because she’s made the actual god(dess) of war blush.

   “love.”

   “lips are sealed honey,” natasha even ‘zips’ her lips and hands you the imaginary key, giving you a small wink.

   “try not to miss me too much, yeah?” you teased, brows raised as you tried to lighten the mood.

   “tell me about asgard when you get back?” natasha asked, taking a quick step to close the distance in between the two of you as you take a quick glance at thor and the ‘talking racoon’. you wonder if thor could handle it - in his current state, you think he might cry more than you would going back. 

   “natasha,” you begin, taking in a breath as you try to calm your emotions. do you tell her? do you not tell her? do you wait until all of this is over? do you do it now? your mind is working at the speed of light - it’s almost amusing how someone like you seems to get tongue twisted in a situation like this. you’re older now. much more wiser than you were in your last relationship. you’re a commander. a god(ddes) even. yet you couldn’t do something so simple as getting down on your knee? why hadn’t you done it before when it was the two of you? make it more.. intimate?

   “the suspense is killing me.” 

   “i love you,” it’s rushed and you’re laughing to mask the fear in your voice. “in this lifetime and the next.” 

   “don’t get all soft on me now,” she jokes, leaning in to press a kiss against your cheek. 

   “don’t take to long, remember, we have to check out the house in the mountains.” you remind her as she leans in for a kiss. 

   “until the sun grows cold, [yourname].” 

   “—and the stars grow old,” you finished, taking your place between her and steve, eyeing the both of them before turning your attention to the center of the room.

   “i’ll see you in a minute baby.”

                       2 HOURS PRIOR.

     “I WANTED TO GIVE HER the ring my mother put in basket, before she passed.” you tell your queen, a sigh leaving your parted lips as you hear both frigga and thor laugh at your sudden confession. you’re almost tempted to kick the back of her son’s knee, but, you settle for a small grunt instead, pursing your lips into a thin line.

   you loved natasha. and she loved you. not because you were some commander who’s led asgard into battle or worked as a council to odin. not because you’ve led asgard into victories or because men and women alike still pray to you before they go off into battle - 

   she loved you. the version of you that would walk the shorelines and keep a small jar of shells on your nightstand. the you that would tell her stories of all the universes you have traveled or of the stars you’ve slept under. the you that would take your time to braid her the way frigga would braid yours.

   “so why haven’t you?”

   “—you know why.” you answered. there’s a flicker of emotion in your eyes that frigga knows all too well, a gentle hand is placed against your cheek as you have to fight to not lean into. frigga wasn’t your mother - not biologically at least. but she’s watched you grow up. she’s watched you fight and tended to your wounds. she’s watched you fall apart and put yourself back together the day you lost a piece of yourself and went off again into battle. 

   you’ve spent your entire life fighting wars that weren’t yours. devoting lifetimes to a cause that you cared little for. you couldn’t remember the last time you had done something for yourself (the only reason you had came to earth to begin with, was to back up thor and retrieve loki). would it be wrong to do something for yourself for once? to live a life that wasn’t paved for you? to move on and let go of your previous lives?

   “you deserve more than what you’ve been given [your name]. please do not let your past keep you from spending the rest of your life they way you have chosen.”

   before you can respond - thor gives you a thumbs up, a way to tell you that he agrees with you. the two of you, were all that was left of your old home (besides valkyrie but, she hadn’t experienced what you and thor had) and you felt like you owed it to both frigga and odin to protect the only son they had left - 

   “the two of you will do great things. and i’m sure you have stories to tell me, but you are here to fix your future. not mine.” she tells you and thor, bringing the two of you in for one last embrace as you bury your face into her shoulder one last time. it’s bittersweet - she might not have been your mother by birthright but she was the closest thing you had to one. and it was painful to bid her goodbye again.

   “take care of each other. i love you. the both of you.”

                      2 HOURS AFTER.

     YOU’RE ENTIRE BODY IS NUMB. you’ve listened to thor’s plan on getting her back. you’ve listened to their cries and complaints - not once, not once had you spoken. you didn’t need to ask clint anything. you knew. you felt it. it felt like your heart had stopped beating - even if it was for just a few seconds. you knew. and there was no way you could bring her back. the guilt ridden archer had tried to approach you (as everyone else did) and you said nothing. your hands remained in your pockets as you looked out over the waters.

   asgard had fallen. half of the universe. loki. heimdall. frigga and odin. hela. and now natasha. you don’t think you’d ever love again - not the way you loved natasha. 

   “[your name],” he approaches with caution, hands held up in his defense as he tries to get a feel of what your current mood was. which is why he keeps his distance at first (and honestly he thinks you might conjure up a weapon and throw it at him) but you say nothing. you can’t find the right words to express the pain in your chest - 

   “whatever we need to do to get her back. we will do it. together. you have my word.” he tells you, taking a few more steps until he’s only a few centimeters in front of you now. and still, you say nothing. 

   “it’s different,” you managed to say, biting at the inside of your cheek as you avoid the blonde’s gaze. “it feels like - it feels like, a part of me is missing. almost as if i am no longer whole.” 

   and he knows better than to interrupt you, if this is your moment to release your grief - he’d be here. whether it be your punching bag, your shoulder to cry on or ear to listen. he would be there - just like you had been there for him all the times before.

   “i told her not to be the hero. i told her not to be the hero and she did it anyways - that’s my job. i’m the one who’s capable of healing. not her. she sacrificed herself knowing - knowing she wouldn’t come back.” you felt she was being selfish but deep down inside, you knew the reason why she had done it. and you would eventually come to terms with it but today was not that day. 

                    16 HOURS AFTER.

     “NATASHA WANTED ME TO GIVE—she wanted me to give this to you,” he chokes in the middle of his sentence, a closed fist is placed in your direction as wanda gives you a reassuring squeeze to your shoulder. you can’t manage to find the words not yet. you had spent the past day in a half trying to pick up whatever pieces of yourself remained. you knew you would outlive natasha - it’s a conversation that was very prominent in the relationship but never did you think it would be this soon.

   when the cool metal reaches your calloused palms, you could feel your heart being ripped from your chest. you laugh. not because the funeral or the situation is funny but because it’s ironic. ironic how the two of you had the same idea yet neither of you would get to  biting at the inside of you cheek as you reached in your pocket to take out the ring you were meant to give her. it’s ironic how the two of you both had the same idea - 

   “she said something. ‘with a love that shall not die—’”

   “’till the sun grows cold and the stars grow old,” you’re shaking your head now, raising the ring into the light to reveal the words: until the next, engraved in it. it’s a real tear-jerker - you aren’t sure what’s keeping you from doubling over and screaming to whatever listened that you needed to have her back. it wasn’t fair. why is it that the universe had to be so cruel to you once more? was the loss of your home? your people? your first love? had that not been enough? had you not suffered enough?

   but you couldn’t. you couldn’t bring yourself to cry. not anymore. “i guess this is my curse. maybe gods do not get happy endings.”

                    3 DAYS LATER.

     “WILL YOU BE JOINING ME?” asked thor as the two of you overlooked new asgard. thor, who had his arms behind his back, turns to you to take in your new look. his eyes trail to the necklace (wanda had gifted you a small chain to wear both of the rings you and natasha were meant to gift to each other). you keep your arms folded across your chest, taking in the view one last time before turning to the god, a sad smile evident on your tired face.

   “not this time i’m afraid your grace.” you replied, clearing your throat as you tried to find the right words to explain to him what lied ahead of you. “there’s a woman i must find. i sent my crows to aid the search but until then.. natasha and i were looking at a home, in the mountains, you know? we were going to get a dog and all that.” 

   “oh.” 

   “but i’m never too far. you know that.” 

   “i know. but it’s time we start forging our own fates isn’t it?” 

   you chuckle, leaning in to press a kiss against his forehead, a gesture that was very common in between the two of you. one that’s quickly followed by a bone crushing hug - 

   “be kind to yourself [your name]. i will be fine.”

   “and you to yourself as well. the crows will always watch over you thor.” 

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ ⋆☾

TAG LIST,

@willowtree42095   ♡  @the-fandoms-georgie

[badwolf-winchester]

Ancient Bloodlines

Pairing: Loki x Emy Nightstar (OC)

OC Summary: Emy is the newest Avenger. She specializes in Magic and close range attacks/ weapons. Her heritage is unknown to her as she was left at an orphanage door step when she was a young girl with only the memory of her name. She goes by her nickname Emy but has never told anyone her full name as its a reminder of her being abandoned. Emy can see through any illusion and Magic no matter how powerful they are or how strong the magic is and is unaware of this. Her powers include Telekinesis, Elemental Control, True Sight (as stated above) Enhanced healing and Shifting (she wont discover this till much later in the story). She loves to read, listen to music, play violin, sing, and draw.

Story Info: Takes place after infinity wars. Tony and Natasha are alive Steven comes back from the future after giving back the infinity stones. Vision is alive and living with Wanda in the tower. Thor and Loki live in the tower with the rest of the Avengers and for the sake of the story Himedall is alive and living with the rest of the Asgardians on earth in New Asgard (you will find out why later)

One last thing: Please do not repost my work on any other site or social media, however reblogging on here is fine. I work hard on all of my fanfics and it’s disappointing when people take my work as their own. I am the creater of all my OCs such as Sora Nightstar, Emy Nightstar, and Lithium Nightstar. My inbox is open for any and all requests as i am a multi fandom writer. Let me know how you like the story and i will do my best to answer any and all questions. As always i encourage any and all feedback as it helps with my writing. I hope you all like it!

The Beginning

They say that your parents are there to teach you the rules of the world, but what happens when you have no parents? Who will teach you then? The world is cruel but people are crueler. Ive learned this first hand when the person i trusted most in this world left me on the door step of the St. Trinity’s Orphanage. I was 9 when my mother told me she didn’t want me anymore and i guess I couldn’t really blame her. I mean who could love someone who couldn’t control the powers that grew with each passing year. Someone who started fires out of thin air when they had nightmares, conjured whirlwinds when startled, unfurled earthquakes when angered, spring forth rain showers when sad, and levitate objects when riddled with anxiety. I will never forget that day for its seared into my mind like its own person brand echoing with every beat of my heart. A monster thats what she called me, her own flesh and blood was a monster in her eyes, and i could see the relief when she ran from the solid oak door finally rid of the burden she had to put up with throughout the years. An abomination she cried as she reached the cobblestone sidewalk eager to be rid of me and by the pace she was going at i could tell she had more spring in her step than on the walk over from the bus we exited from. Unnatural she bellowed as she disappeared around the corner a ghost of a smile springing from her lips as she disappeared. These where the last words i would ever hear from my mother, if thats what you would call her.

Emy’s POV

Tonight was just like any other. Crisp cold air submerged the city in a blanket of dark and silence while it settled into your bones. I never minded the cold in fact I welcomed it, it reminded me of the cabin i found one year after running away from one of the many abusive foster homes i was forced to stay with. I’ll admit it was one of the times I was able to avoid the social workers for longer than a week and the happiest I had ever been in my life up until i was captured by Hydra. When I had a flair up with my powers, which usually ended up being fire, i would immediately get sent back to St. Trinity’s but this time i ran before they had the chance to toss me aside. The staff there used to place bets on how long i would stay with a family, they would joke saying i was cursed or jinxed but i knew the truth, no one wanted me. Once the parents found out about my abilities I was sent packing. I was labeled as a flight risk and a danger to others which only deepened my anti socialism.

Walking through the streets of New York i pull my dark purple jacket on and my dark brown hair in a pony tail as I get closer to my destination. Because i don’t feel the effects of the cold weather Tony, being such the dad figure he is, has made it his priority to make sure i still wear one just incase so here i was walking home in black ripped up jeans, a black v neck T-shirt, black and purple checkered vans and a light weight dark purple jacket. With my headphones in my ears and “I like it heavy” by Halestorm blasting I make my way to the place i call home, Stark Tower. Walking through the front doors i make my way past the receptionist who always greets me with a bright smile. As I walk towards the elevator I give her a small smile back and a head nod. After entering the elevator and pressing the button for the penthouse I start to reflect on how i got here.

By the time i was 15 Hydra found me in that cabin and took me away. I went from hopping from family to family to being used as a science experiment, constantly being poked and prodded just so they could get a reaction out of me. As a child my powers where very unstable mostly flaring up with my emotions, its no wonder that Hydra caught wind of me its not like i was hiding it very well or more so that i couldn’t hide it. They tried to wipe my memory to gain control of me “a blank slate” is what they wanted, but for some reason, they failed as I wasn’t susceptible to their conditioning methods no matter how much time i spent in the chair. However, I could tell they were scared of me I could see it in their eyes. This didn’t last long though as they used what they called their perfect weapon code name Winter Soldier to beat me into submission. After that first meeting that left me with a broken arm and a fractured ankle i started to obey, since then Ive met the Soldier a couple of times but if he remembers me he dosent let on and I dont blame him, he has been in that chair so many times Im genuinely surprised he can even remember how to walk. He is stronger than the others as most of the other test subjects had turned to vegetables after the 4th mind wipe, he was on his 10th the last time i saw him with Hydra.

Another test was done on me and this one was different. They used a teseract? If thats what they called it I can’t be sure nor did I care all I could feel was pain like as if someone injected lava in my veins. After they injected me I started screaming after a while I couldn’t even hear myself anymore, my throat was so sore and horse from the constant roar of my agony I just wanted it to end. How long was I out for? Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Days? Years? They didn’t keep clocks there or at least not in the dungeon like cell they had me in. When the fire faded i was left with this numbness and after further tests I realized that I was immune to fire. I can literally stick my hand in fire and i will be left untouched and unscorched. They did the same test with freezing temperatures to see if they could subdue me at least in some way. I must have been out longer than just a couple of days as during the tests i didn’t recognize any of the Doctors. In that moment I realized something, if they were trying to contain me then something must have happened to the soldier. It was time to plan my escape.

Back in my cell i could hear footsteps approaching me and then stop short. One of the scientists frantically trying to talk some sense into someone just out of my line of sight. “She is immune to anything we throw at her sir. We have done every test we could there is nothing left for us to do.” One of the goons in a lab coat stated to what i assumed is a higher up. “Bolden If her powers keep growing at the rate they are it could be days in which she will be unstoppable and with the soldier gone we dont have anything that can keep her in line. She broke Mandy and Rays arms the last time we tested her. She is getting too strong.” Brining a hand up to his chin the higher up Bolden stepped out of the shadows and looked at me with deep interest before he turned to looked at the man and scoffed. As he walked away i felt a cold chill ran down my back as I anticipated what was to become of me; I knew it was nothing good i had already broken their rules. His next words only confirmed what I feared. “ Its simple. Break her spirit or kill her Doctor. And when i say break her i mean in anyway means necessary.” His sadistic laugh is the last thing i remember before everything went black.

Its been 2 years since i have escaped and now I’m living in the avengers tower. I don’t remember what happened after that night in my cell its all a blur of red, screams, and gunshots. When i woke up next i was in a 6ft crater where I was being held captive without a scratch on me. Trees were uprooted and fallen over as if a bomb went off. Luckily the Avengers showed up not long after me waking up and took me to their base where i met Directer Fury. With his permission and 24/7 surveillance provided by Tony Stark via FRIDAY and training sessions to get my powers under control i was allowed to join the Avengers and fight for good. Little did i know that by agreeing to this I would end up in the path of a certain God or Gods who were also taking residence at the tower.

With the sound of a *ding* the elevator shook me out of my mind and back to the present. As i exited the elevator I pulled my head phones out of my ears and was instantly met with the sound of Tony losing his mind. “Where did she go? She knows she can’t be out this late. She could be taken again! Its 5 minutes past her curfew!” Rolling my eyes I roll my headphones up and shove them in my pocket and round the corner. “Tony it takes 5 minutes to get from the lobby to the penthouse calm down. I bet she will walk through that door anytime now.” Came the sweet voice of reason of none other than Pepper Potts. “I’m Home.” I said in a deadpan voice as i walked by the couple only for Tony to stand up and intercept me by placing a hand on my upper arm. “Where did you go and why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?” I looked at him and raised an eyebrow pushing his hand off me. “Tony its Wednesday. I have training with Strange on Wednesdays and I had Friday alert you as I was leaving but you were in the lab with Bruce.” Not sure what to say next Tony mumbled a small apology. “Sorry I was just worried about you. I know you are grown enough to make your own choices as you are 25 but I just want to make sure you are safe. How was the training with The Wizard?” Sighing and shaking my head just wanting to go the library and read I decided to just let it go. “Strange is a hard ass that much you already know. It wasnt bad actually I think I’m warming up to him. I didn’t spontaneously throw him to the wall when he snuck up behind me as i was going over the ancient texts so i call that improvement.” I said sheepishly while side stepping around him. “I’m gonna go to the library now and grab some light reading before bed you guys have a good night.” With out waiting for a response I quickly made my way towards my new destination only to have Tony saying something about guests in the house but I ignored him.

Pushing open the library door I make my way to the poetry section to grab my usual copy of Edgar Allen Poe that I read before bed. As my had reached for the spot i knew i put the book in i find that its not there. “Wait what? Where is my book? I know I put it back here before I left for training so where did it go?” Frustrated I stomp back over to the entrance and rip open the door ready to go on a murder spree while shouting down the hallway. “CLINT! You better give me back my night time book or I’m breaking all your arrows again! No one reads in this tower but me! How stupid do you think I am!?” Straining my ears I listen for any type of movement but was met with dead silence. After a minute I finally hear movement through the vents coming from the west part of the tower and I take off sprinting. Sliding around a corner I barely miss colliding with Steve and Bucky who look like they were on their way back from a mission. Offering a quick apology before I continue my pursuit I hear Steve yell “Hey! No running in the tower!” Not faltering in my hot pursuit of the Hawk thief I continue to zip through the tower ignoring the Captains words until i was almost to the vent that lead to the 2 level family room. Using the railing for the steps leading down to the family area to give me more height i jumped as close to the vent as possible and conjured my signature Scythe to slice through it while twisting in the air kicking the vent free and off its track. A shocked and terrified scream resonates from the vent as the culprit falls to the ground with a thud and a grunt. I landed in a crouched position and slowly straightened to my full hight. “What the hell Emy?! When did you learn to do that?!” Clint yells as he sits up rubbing his left shoulder that he landed on. I started stalking towards him with the blade of my scythe scrapping across the ground as i went while giving him a death glare. “Give me back my book Barton.” At the mention of his last name his head snapped up to me fear replacing the pain from his fall. “Oh shit last name not good.” Scrambling up on his feet he turns and runs towards the common room that connects to the elevator with me hot on his tail and my scythe trailing behind me in my right hand.

“Shit shit shit shit shit shit SHIT!!” He yells as he makes it fully to the room only to fling forward as i jump and kick his back tired of all the running. Twirling my weapon around I place it at his neck sneering at him. “I will not ask you again.” I said placing pressure on his neck with my blade. Sensing a fast moving object coming from my left from the kitchen I move my head back 3 inches as what looked like a hammer flew by me embedding itself in the wall. Turning my head slowly in the direction of the flying object, I confirmed it was indeed a hammer that was thrown at me. Irritation flared through me as i released Clint from the end of my scythe and turned fully to the kitchen to face my attacker. There stood 2 men that i did not recognize, one tall oak of a man with blond short hair, blue eyes and tan skin in blue jeans, a red T-shirt ,and grey jacket. the other shorter man made me stare at him and faultier for a second as he was so different from anyone i have ever seen, dark blue skin covered his entire body with darker almost black symbols and piercing red eyes, long black hair with black jeans, a green dress shirt and black jacket. Tearing my gaze away from his own curious one i looked between both men before i clenched my jaw letting my irritation settle back in. “Which one of you threw that hammer.” I said venom dripping with every word. “Whoa its ok Emy thats just Thor and Loki they are the asgardian Gods that live here in the tower part time when they are not in Norway.” Clint said standing up quickly. Not moving from my position i narrowed my eyes and flicked them over in Clint’s direction. The ground started to shake as my irritation and annoyance grew to anger remembering what i was doing before being interrupted by the Gods. Throwing his hands up in surrender he then quickly reached into his back pocket and retrieved my book. “Ok ok dont blow a fuse Em.” He said while tossing me my possession stopping me from causing an earthquake. Catching it in the air with my left had I inspected the book to make sure it wasn’t damaged before I let go of my scythe, with a wave of my hand it disappeared back to the pocket dimension I keep it in then looked back at Clint as the tremors stopped. “Touch my things again and i will be wearing your guts like my mom’s pashmina.” I said to the thief before walking out of the room and disappeared down the hallway not giving the Gods a second glance. As I entered my room i could hear a silky voice ring out from the kitchen. “Well isnt she interesting.”

Part 2 coming soon

@nickkie1129

[tarithenurse]

Stolen - 37

Fandom: MCU Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x fem!gifted!reader Content: A bit of angst and resentment. Probably spelling/grammar/etc errors. A/N: I love my job – thank goodness, I quit my old one and got this instead <3 Ask or re-blog for tag.

37. Tainted Love

...   Loki   ...

Questions, blame, even hatred has been festering deep inside Loki since he first learned of his heritage. It has brought him to an understanding of why Odin, the man he had presumed was truly his father, had favoured the older son. The only son. But the pain caused by the negligence of a simultaneously doting mother has cut...maybe not deeper, but inflicted a wound that has festered slowly.

“Why?” Loki interrupts the queen in the middle of bringing him up to speed on her actions to ensure [Y/N]’s safety. “Why did you never -...you knew.” There’s sadness in her eyes and yet he finds he can’t stop. “Did you never question his decisions or did you truly approve of the meaningless game he was playing? For what purpose, mother?” The last word is a mockery at the relationship he misses so dearly.

“There’s always a purpose to everything your father does.” She repeats the past but this time follows up with a sigh, “but even the best intentions can crumble to the weight of reality. Time passed and he didn’t see the same as I when looking at you.”

“A monste-”

Perhaps due to his natural coldness, Frigga’s glare seems filled with fire. “No, not a monster. To me, you were kin in heart and soul. Contemplative. But Odin was influenced by your appearance and in his eyes your colours of black and green were tied to a memory of cunning, blood thirst, and insatiable power.”

He can feel it, like an undercurrent in the sea something seems to pull Loki’s attention to what isn’t said. “What are you hiding?”

“More than is relevant at present,” the queen attempts to skirt his query, “it was never a lie, when we raised you as a prince. You truly were meant to sit upon a throne and, the All-Father hoped, become the one to bring peace to Jotunheim and bridge the divide between our realms.”

Loki can see it now, how the rightful heir of Laufey could be the one to turn the minds of the jötun from the desire to wage war. Kept alive in the Asgardian court, he had been both a hostage and an investment to guarantee a truce (or at least a cease-fire) until a deeper cooperation could be established through diplomacy. Silvertongue. It would have taken more than rhetoric to repair the damage wrought over centuries. Instead, Loki had been the one to deal the final blow to a realm already brought to the brink of extermination.

“I always tried to please him.”

Frigga nods sadly. “The doubt and fear growing within your father was not of your doing.”

“Still...I managed to prove it right to him,” the former prince groans. There is more to this, but for now he has to settle for less than he wants. “Either way...the past cannot be undone.”

... Reader   ...

Between spending your time worrying about your situation, you try to create magic on purpose.

That is to say, other than healing, every snippet of song that has helped you before have simply plopped into your head at the moment you needed it and slipped out between your lips without alerting you of the effects it would have. The fog you conjured when you first escaped your prison onboard the spaceship? Pure luck.

Maybe...maybe you’re getting close to something as a staccato melody with schwung fills the room together with the dancing light of a flickering candle – the flame growing and jumping along with the song, it seems. The words don’t all make sense yet but the ones that do are deliberate choices you’ve made along the theme of fire and light, dancing and moving.

On the other hand, when you’re interrupted by the sound of a key in the lock, the illumination still moves erratically.

As unlikely as it would be, you hope for Loki to be the one passing through the door to your confines and you can’t disguise the disappointment when it’s his brother instead. Adoptive brother. How could you ever have thought they were related?

The man entering and sitting down on the only available chair is blond like his parents; his features rough, and build muscular, but most of all powered by something bright and warm that can’t be seen with the naked eye. Summer, you muse at the heat of his persona. You can only imagine the kind of summer storm he’d resemble in battle: towering, boisterous, scorching.

Loki, on the other hand...

“The All-Father is in an uproar,” Thor begins without any pleasantries first, “the idea of you and Loki working together...a lesser man would have had you executed on the spot.”

In other words: Odin has considered it. “I suppose, I should be grateful that he wants evidence before passing judgment.”

You don’t dare to consider the consequences if you’re found out. Since Loki entered your life, the threat of death has lingered like a shadow – at times closer than your own – haunting your steps as one danger was replaced by another greater one.

The God of Thunder shakes his head with a sigh. “Your sarcasm will not save you, little mortal.” He ponders your face momentarily. “However, the repeated references to Thanos does help your case -” he stops your question before a sound escapes your lips -”yes...even your would-be accuser speaks of the Titan.”

Arox has never been talkative, so what you know of him and his background is limited. “He...his home...”

“Aye, Thanos attacked and laid waste to the planet. The desire to get revenge is what drove Arox to side with my brother...or so he claims.”

“Why should he lie?”

Darkness rests on Thor’s face as he looks away briefly. “Silvertongue...God of Chaos, of Mischief...of Lies...”

“He was raised under false pretenses and yet you people call him a liar?!” Too late, your hands slap over your mouth as if to force back the words and anger. I should not have said that.

But the blond man just nods, his gaze falling to his hands as the fingers twist awkwardly. “That did come as a...as a shock.”

Of course, Loki would not have been the only one living with the wrong understanding, but you can’t find it in yourself to feel sorry for Thor who clearly suffers under the absence of his brother, probably longing for things to return to how they were before everything went wrong.

“What did you want, anyways?”

Your question seems to startle him back to reality. “How did you come to be here? On Asgard, I mean.”

Uuuuuhm...shit. It hardly seems like a good idea to explain how Loki threw his spaceship low across a desert of blackish sand and stone one second and then suddenly appearing inside a cave with a view of the golden city by the rainbow bridge.

“I don’t...it doesn’t make sense,” you try to buy time, fidgeting with the sleeve as if attempting to understand, “one moment it was one place and then it’s like the air squeezed me and then poof it was somewhere else completely!” Technically, you’re not lying.

Maybe the crown prince is aware that you are trying to answer; it’s hard to tell, but he doesn’t push the subject further, merely nods before telling you that he will continue what he can to uncover the truth about Thanos. Then he leaves.

[silence-burns]

Please Hate Me //part 38

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Based on: “Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki.” by @thefandomimagine​ Who would have thought that babysitting a god could be so much fun?

Genre: slow-burn, enemies to lovers

The pale cheek was rubbery and cold under your finger. You poked it again. "Are you sure he's dead?" 

Loki looked at the severed, and a little chewed, bottom half of the ambassador. "Pretty much."

The body had been laid out on top of a desk, with all the books and documents previously occupying it put on the ground. It didn't really matter in the ways of making things messy, because the suite belonging to the recently deceased ambassador was already a dusty, chaotic mess. The room was dark and narrow and made even smaller by the bookshelves lined along one wall, stealing even more space. The carpet used to be gold and thick, but now it looked just worn and tired. 

"Do we even have a plan? Like, anything in particular to look out for?" 

Loki scratched his chin, looking around next to you. "Plans are for the weak of heart. We've got something better, love—a suspicion. Now we only have to find the evidence for or against it." 

You looked at the shelves filled with old tomes to the point of almost breaking the wood. And then at the loose papers piled carelessly along two of the walls and also in the bedroom. The notes were haphazardly scribbled and left in places where a thought must've struck the man, and then left forgotten or lost. Ink was spilled on the less fortunate ones. 

"...right."

You couldn't say you were happy about it, but there was little to do about it. Whatever the ambassador was working on before he died could shed some light on his death. Now you only had to find it. 

With a deep sigh, you braced yourself and got to work. 

It soon turned out you didn’t understand a single word of it. 

"You said your spell would work and I would understand everything." You focused really hard on the wall of text in a language you'd never seen before. "And it works fine when I'm talking to the lords here, but not on this." 

Loki leaned over your shoulder to peek a glance at the text. "I have no idea. Maybe it works differently on humans? Or maybe you're just a particularly weird individual of your species." 

"Thanks." 

"Welcome, love." 

With nothing you could read, your job there was crippled. Even when Loki assured you he didn't mind doing everything himself and that it wasn't your fault, there was still a sour feeling you couldn't quite shake off. 

"I'm going to see if I can find the kitchens and get us something edible." You decided to pass the time on something at least vaguely helpful. 

Loki looked up from the notes he'd gathered from the windowsill. He’d made himself comfortable in one of the cleaner parts of the room, although unfortunately it just happened to be near the corpse. "Be careful. And please, don't kill anyone without me." 

"I'd never," you promised with a wink and left. 

The castle was huge, but empty. At first, you put in on the murder that must've shaken the people living there, but the longer you looked around, it struck you as odd. Everything was clean, even if touched by time. There must be people taking care of it, but you couldn't find any. 

Or maybe they were avoiding the outsiders. Technically, you were an alien here. 

You walked the empty corridors, enjoying the silent breeze passing through the open panels. It was strange not to see any glass in the windows, but with the weather so mild, there probably wasn't any temperature drop to worry about anyway. 

There were shadows sneaking in the corners of your vision. They could be figments of your imagination and sense of wrongness of this place. They could be the things howling in the dark. 

No. Thinking about that probably wasn't the wisest idea. In a place where thoughts apparently could shape reality, thinking merry, happy thoughts seemed like a much more rational option if one planned to survive and not be eaten by their own fears embodied. You had such plans, and even if Loki was convinced that you had absolutely no connection to magic unless it hit you in the face, it was better to stay cautious. And happy. What a lovely day it was, after all, with the creeping light avoiding particular parts of your vision, and something definitely following you. How nice would it be to meet someone. Anyone. 

Your eyes wandered off into the gardens below, where the everlasting night was laying thick. A fountain shimmered in bluish speckles of water. And behind it, the night opened its eyes. 

You might've jumped a little. Just the tiniest bit. 

But there was no denying that, just for the briefest moment, your eyes met the Queen's, posed unnaturally still among the statues. 

…and people said wishful thinking wouldn't get you anywhere. 

You hopped over the railing, and onto the moss-covered ground. The guard you'd seen before was nowhere to be found. You stared around as hard as you could, trying to pierce the shadows and strange light. It took a moment to find what you were looking for. 

From up close, the stars overhead and the stars shimmering on her skin looked like mirror images. For a moment, the night sky felt within a hand's reach. 

Not one muscle betrayed the Queen had she noticed your arrival. Her eyes were dull and completely blank—to the point where you wondered if you hadn't imagined everything. 

You stood right next to her and still weren't decapitated, which was a comfort and a good sign. You bowed stiffly, even if she didn't see it. 

"Hi," you said quietly, looking for any sign of comprehension. "I'm one of the people who came here to explain the recent murder." 

Nothing. Just the vast expanse of the night enclosed in a fading body and crumbled into a vaguely humanoid shape. The Queen only had one horn intact, white as a bone, and sharp like the crescent moon—the only one to ever be seen on the edge of the universe. 

"I wondered if you knew anything about it," you tried again. "We're doing well so far, and I'm sure we'll find the murderer eventually, so don't worry about that, but… We'd still appreciate any and all help." 

Birds chirped somewhere in the trees. Shimmering pollen flew on the light breeze squeezing through the thicket. The night turned her eyes toward you. 

It'd been a while since you cowered under the sheets, afraid of the darkness. It was a common fear among children, and one that only a few grew out of. Those eyes reminded you of those sleepless nights. 

Not a word left the bloodless lips. Not a muscle twitched. The edges of the woman blurred into the night. 

"...right. Sorry to interrupt you, Your Majesty." 

You backed away a few steps before turning your back to her. A shiver ran down your spine. If that was what fading was, you preferred death. 

*

Loki enjoyed reading, he really did. Even as a child, he'd often been found buried among the old tomes in the palace's library, or smuggling particularly interesting ones to his rooms. There was something in the way of the written word that captured his attention way better than whatever training he was forced to participate in for the sake of Odin's misplaced ambition. There was a certain rush in learning facts previously unknown and in understanding the world or the forces in it better. 

Loki felt absolutely none of that while going through the ambassador's notes. 

Most of them were full of incomprehensible babble of half-finished ideas or references that led nowhere without the books they'd been taken from. Some seemed to be copied pages, which led Loki to the conclusion that the books were not to be taken off the library grounds. 

There were a lot of dates and numbers that made little sense to him, so he put them down on the pile of things he deemed irrelevant to the investigation. The pile was growing and now consisted of several piles, forming the majority of the room's contents. 

The doors opened. Loki was relieved to see you; the dagger disappeared back up his sleeve. 

"That took you awhile," he noticed, throwing the crumbled papers to the right, onto the pile of nonsense. "I was getting worried." 

"I'm good. I got you some apples." 

The apples were a dusted orange, but tasted sweet enough to justify the unusual color. Loki leaned back in his chair and let you settle on his lap. The feeling of your body pressed into his made you share the warmth and comfort, and made some of the stress building up since morning fade away. 

"I met the Queen," you said around a mouth full of apple, and the other hand buried in Loki's hair. "She seemed nice enough. The creepiness definitely runs in the family, though." 

Some of the stress came back. "Did she… say anything?"

"Nope. I don't think she’s… aware of things. Which is a shame, because I seriously hoped she could help us." 

Loki brushed your back in wide, soothing strokes. "There is a chance she'll regain her senses one day, just for long enough to answer some questions. Fading is a complicated process." 

"You know a lot about it." 

Loki's eyes dropped to the few remaining apples. "Gods fade too sometimes." 

"Will you? One day?" 

"I am a Frost Giant, love, even if I was raised on Asgard. I'm not sure how much that complicates my case, and there is no one to ask about it anymore." 

"I'm sorry." 

Loki closed his eyes and breathed in your scent as he felt you kiss his temple, gently and with enough unfiltered love to make his heart throb almost painfully. He was lucky, even despite the mess politics brought onto him. He was luckier than he ever thought he'd be. And luckier than he thought he deserved. 

"Did you find anything interesting?" you asked with a face burrowed into the crook of his neck. 

"There was quite a lot of nonsense, but the rest highlights the ambassador's interest in the wars and mass deaths that always follow them." 

You froze. The corpse laid on the desk next to you no longer felt like something you could forget about. "...what an interesting guy. "

"Most definitely, but it's too early to judge just yet. I made a list of the books he mentioned most often. I think it'd be worth our time to pay a visit to the library to check them out and maybe ask a few questions to the people working there. They should know something about him and the dead assistant."

"We could get some more apples on our way," you offered, standing up. Loki already missed you. 

"Sure, why not. It's not like you'd take the fruit of the sacred trees from the very clearly separated part of the gardens, right?" 

"...of course. I'd never overlook that." 

You did overlook that in the end, and Loki just happened to overlook it too. Overlooking things was always more fun in good company. 

The gardens were a beautiful, lush place, bursting with colors and leaves that danced on the wind instead of falling. Some of the branches were covered in flowers so tiny they looked like ants, traveling up and down the bark. Birds too shy to leave the shadows chirped and sung. 

It was a strange change to witness, especially having in mind what the gardens were like in the morning. Whatever put them in a good mood had clearly done a good job. It made the winding paths easier to follow, and the water passing through the fountain shimmer like starlight. 

Loki shrugged when you voiced your thoughts. 

"In your world, the weather changes just as rapidly," he said, looking at his mirrored image. "Here, it's the very essence of the Edge that's capable of changing." 

It was poetic, like most things on the Edge. And just like them, the forest suddenly decided to hate you. 

First, the birds vanished, their voices cut short. 

Then, something else moved between the curled, twisted trees. Loki noticed too, and handed you one of his knives. The knives had a habit of appearing around him in just the right moments, and you loved them for it. 

And finally, the Edge decided how to make your lives difficult this time. 

The monstrosity that circled the fountain was a terror of thin legs and bulky torso, armed with too many teeth.

"Is it a spider?" you asked in a voice too high because of your heart leaping into your throat. 

"It could be, if someone really hated spiders," Loki said, but there was a smile on his face. "And it might present a problem, if we were still on Earth—but now I'm free and ready to deal with this the old-fashioned way." 

You blinked when golden light enveloped him in a flash. The green armor poured onto his body while magic danced around his fingers. The golden helmet you'd seen only once in the battle of New York, now returned in its full glory. 

You cheered as Loki stepped out, swinging a spear with a nonchalant ease only available to children forced to learn something for years against their will. 

"Kick its ass, babe!" 

Loki winked. 

The creature didn't want to have its ass kicked. It charged on its eight legs reaching far and fast. Loki striked, gutting its belly and cutting two legs off. It should've died, but it didn't. The cuts should've killed it, but they healed. 

Loki's magic should've blocked the furious mass hurtling itself at him. It didn't. 

The spell flashed a blinding yellow before it cracked like glass and shattered. The legs that were no longer cut, they hit and didn't miss. 

A gold-and-green body flew through the air with a very surprised face. The fountain crashed in a rain of water and marble, covering everything in a thin layer of dust and a thick one of mud quickly forming under your feet. 

"...Loki?"

Loki didn't answer, half buried under the stone. 

The spider turned its too big head to you. Its legs were black and covered in thick stubble. 

"Shit," you whispered. 

The spider agreed. 

You ran. 

[alirhi]

FINALLY!

Y'all, I am so happy this story finally got to this point! 😁🥰

Title: Winter's Frost Chapter: 13/? Fandom: MCU Rating: R to be on the safe side Pairing: Loki/Bucky Summary: Loki never told anyone the real reason he became so obsessed with Midgard. Much better to let them think he wanted to hurt his brother than draw their attention to the one thing in the universe that makes the God of Mischief truly vulnerable. WARNINGS: violence, murder, the fun stuff XD Notes: They're back together! ...sorta lol

"I want you to know I was against this." Those were the first words out of Loki's mouth as his brother approached him. Oddly enough, they were the first words out of Thor's mouth, as well, at the same time. They both stopped, stared at each other for a long moment, and then Thor chuckled and Loki shook his head.

"I don't need your help."

"Heimdall thinks you do."

"He underestimates me." Crossing his arms, Loki smirked at his adoptive brother and took a calm, deliberate step back when Thor moved forward. "You all do."

"I'm beginning to learn that," Thor agreed with a wry smile. "When did you learn to cast solid doubles?"

"I've done it before, you just didn't notice." He gestured toward the bunker; it was hidden from view by a hill between the brothers and it, but Loki had scouted the area while he was waiting and knew where it was. "Let's get this over with, shall we?"

His brother was staring at him again. When he huffed and demanded why, the witless wonder had the audacity to ask, "All this over a human?"

He almost marched over to him and put a knife to his throat, but even angry, Loki wasn't stupid. Every once in a while, Thor's one brain cell would fire off with some actual intelligence, and he wouldn't risk being in easy grabbing range if that happened again. Hands shaking from the overwhelming urge to do some serious bodily harm to his idiot brother, he growled, "You nearly gave up your life for a woman you don't even know. I challenge you to find anyone in the cosmos with less right to judge me!"

"I'm not judging, brother." Thor shrugged a little. "I'm confused. Why did you never mention him, in all this time?"

"If I haven't spoken of him to you in nearly seventy years, what in the name of Odin's good eye makes you think I would do so now?" He turned and started marching over the hill, snapping over his shoulder, "If you're going to help, help. Otherwise, stay out of my way. Anything between me and my Sergeant dies today."

"I didn't know you were capable of such devotion to anyone but yourself."

Ugh. He was still talking? "As usual, brother, that's because you don't pay attention."

"To be honest, I always thought you would end up with Sigyn."

He couldn't help smirking a bit at that. "I have. We married in a little grove on Vanaheim five hundred years ago."

"So you're abandoning your wife?!"

"Monogamy isn't the only path, Thor." Loki rolled his eyes, picking up the pace a bit when he noticed his brother getting too close to him. "Sigyn has never been the jealous type." He paused, and added with a slight edge to his voice, "In fact, if I can remain free long enough to ever see her again, I think she and the Sergeant will get on."

Thor paused as well, mercifully remaining just out of easy reach. "Why do you keep calling him that? It's not as though Heimdall hasn't already told me his name."

"Because he's not James," he explained with an annoying crack in his voice. "If I can't get him out of there, he may never be again." And honestly... I love them both.

They resumed walking, and Loki had about half a second to think he might actually have a moment's peace before the massacre ahead... And then Thor opened his mouth again. "So how did attempting to blow up Jotunheim serve-"

"Do you never tire of the sound of you own voice?! I did, a thousand years ago!"

"Tire of my voice, or your own?"

With a growl, he stopped dead and spun to face the idiot, only growing angrier when he saw the irreverent grin on Thor's dopey, bearded face. Once again squashing down the urge to stab or strangle him, Loki snapped, "I'll see you inside. Or not." And then he simply teleported the rest of the way, leaving Thor to run after him or leave; either option suited Loki just fine.

As he was gleefully tearing humans apart in the bunker a few minutes later, he heard pounding on the door and rolled his eyes. So, Thor hadn't left. Well, if he ever got inside, perhaps he could help clean this mess up.

One of the enormous metal doors nearly took him out as it flew across the facility. Hastily jumping back out of the way, he watched it mow down four blindsided HYDRA operatives and blinked. "Well." With his usual cocky smirk, he nodded to Thor. "Nice of you to join the fun."

When there was no response to his taunting, he was a bit disappointed... until he followed his brother's horrified gaze and saw the pods lined up in a semicircle in the next room. "What the...?"

There were six of them, each with a man or woman seemingly unconscious within. Loki paced the room, taking in and quickly dismissing in turn each face; none were the one he was looking for.

He stopped at the fourth chamber and felt his heart shatter as he pressed his hands to the glass. "Sergeant..."

While the others were seated nude in their chambers, Bucky had been frozen standing, still in the outfit Loki had come to think of as his harness and muzzle. It was so clear at a glance, just from how they were treated while frozen, that all the others were there voluntarily, and Bucky was a prisoner.

"That's him?" When Loki nodded, Thor placed a surprisingly gentle hand on his shoulder and urged, "Stand back."

"You can't just break him out!"

Both Gods turned to face the source of this new voice. A trembling, agitated man in a white lab coat who reeked of fresh urine and fear was gesturing wildly. "This equipment is delicate! Without the proper procedures-"

Loki appeared directly in front of him and gripped him by the front of his shirt; he wanted to grip him by the throat, but restrained himself. "Will it harm him?"

"Yes."

He searched the man's eyes for a moment, until he was sure the wet, shivering weasel was telling the truth, and then he shoved him toward the control panel. "Then begin the procedures."

"But-"

"Wake him!" There was something so satisfying about pressing the point of a dagger into the base of someone's spinal column. Loki smiled, looking directly into those wide, terrified brown eyes, and added more pleasantly, with a little extra pressure on the blade, "Please, doctor. And do be a dear and ensure he wakes safely, with no ill effects, won't you?"

"Y-Yes... Of course."

"You're a monster, brother." Despite his harsh words, there was nothing but amusement in Thor's tone, and his expression when Loki glanced at him. "He's already soiled himself."

Loki shrugged, still smiling pleasantly at his hostage as the man's hands flew over the controls. "Fear can be quite a powerful motivator. Wouldn't you say, doctor?"

"Y-y-yes, sir." With a desperate glance at him, and then at the pod, he told the brothers, "I-it will take a few minutes. When the glass lifts, be ready to catch him."

"Thor."

"See?" With a grin, he turned toward the frozen assassin, waiting. "You did need my help!"

"He's only human; I can lift him easily."

"Yes, but you've got the other one to babysit."

He glanced at the trembling scientist and nodded somewhat absently. That was true; inconvenient, but true. Thor would never have the stomach to do what must be done next, so he'd have to be the one to catch Bucky. As the glass began to lift, Loki asked, "Once he's out, is there anything else that needs to be done?"

"Th-the machine-"

"Not to control him!" Watching the man flinch and cower, he sighed and lowered his voice. "For his health, sir. Are there any ill effects on his wellbeing from that chamber?"

"Not that we've noticed."

Not that you care about, Loki corrected silently, rage boiling over again. "Good." If there were any ill effects, he would simply have to deal with them the best he could when they arose. Bucky was in Thor's arms now; with no further use for him, Loki drove his dagger through the doctor's spine, angling up to get as many organs as he could in one go, as well.

"Loki!"

"If you knew what I know," he told his angry brother calmly as he removed the knife, made it disappear, and dropped the body, "you'd hardly mourn him. Any of them." He marched over to where Thor was laying Bucky across a table, desperate to be near his love even if he wasn't awake yet. "And I did warn you."

"You truly believe there's no chance there's a single innocent soul in this building?"

With an icy look that made the other man shiver, Loki growled, "The only innocent in HYDRA is lying before you, brother. The rest are monsters, and every last one is marked for death."

_____________________________________________________

Next Masterlist

[ajokeformur-ray]

I’ve got this idea in my brain about how after Arthur becomes Joker he’s finally confident enough to go out dancing in a club/lounge. Could you pretty please write something where he either meets reader there or they’re already together and he’s just taking her out with him?

@colbynatorsforlife A sweet fluffy with a sweet barwoman, who is totally in love for him?

Warning for suggestive innuendos and themes within. 

Word count: 983.

It was a long since established part of your daily routine that Arthur would finish at Ha-Ha’s at seven every evening and pick you up from your ending shift at eight. Whether he turned up at your workplace dressed as Carnival or not largely depended on how busy he had been at work, but also on whether he could be bothered to get changed back into Arthur. Sometimes he wanted to be Carnival for just a little longer, for he was safe inside his life’s work and disguise. Carnival didn’t have to talk. He didn’t have to think. He could just dance and smile and make children laugh and that was all he really needed in life. He had been put here on this earth to spread joy and laughter and that was exactly what he was able to do as Carnival.

More often than not was Carnival the one to greet you at the bar. He would always, always greet you with a comically large smile; the painted and lined smile which seemed to stretch from ear to ear would complement his actual thin lips, which also turned upwards at the sight of your heartbreakingly tired and yet relieved face. You were both just as happy to see the other, every single day. It drove your co-workers crazy in the best way, and there was a secret betting pool going on behind your back about the date and method of Arthur’s proposal to you. Those who bet on you being the one to do the proposing were rare, but they would turn out to be right; Arthur was much too shy, and so was Carnival.

Joker, however, was a different matter entirely.

He was more than happy to saunter into your workplace without a care in the world, his hands in his pockets and a little skip in his slow and measured steps, a growing smirk on his face. 

He always did know how to make an entrance.

Sometimes he walked in, like today. Sometimes he came swanning in, his arms flailing gracefully as he pirouetted his way inside. Sometimes he pulled the nearest person to him into a waltz as he made his way towards you; this was when he really wanted to get your attention, for he knew you so loved to watch him dance and indeed did you get just a little jealous to see him dancing so easily with another. Sometimes he stumbled through the door, though you could never tell if it was a deliberate move on his part or if he was just having a clumsy moment. 

On this day, though, he sauntered carefully up to you and leaned across the counter to grasp your face in both of his hands to pull you into a strong and heated kiss, the two of you ignoring the loud gasps and scurries for people to get away in their panic. Fear and awe followed him everywhere but only you commanded his love.

As you broke away, you said, “Want a drink before we go?”

Joker raised his eyes to the ceiling and put a finger on his chin as he pretended to think. He was in a playful mood today. “How about sex on the beach? Can you do that here?” He dipped his chin down, challenging you in front of the bar’s patrons and your co-workers, all of whom were watching the two of you interact with bated breath.

“No,” You hummed, “I can make you up a sex on the sofa once we get home though.”

Joker giggled. “I’m up for that.”

You suggestively aimed your eyes as you said, “Yeah, I bet you are.” Then with a sigh were you forced to remember where you were as you removed your work apron and went out the back to get yourself ready to go. 

Joker didn’t move a single inch and you could practically feel his urgency for you to hurry up so the two of you could get out and go. The longer he was there, the easier it was for the police to be called on him, and you were much too tired to plan another breakout tonight.

Still, you were ready in moments and then Joker was swanning his way around the bar, grabbing your hand tightly in his. The sound of sirens was distant and likely unrelated to Joker’s presence at your workplace but neither of you wanted to take a chance. 

“Let’s go, doll.” With an emphatic tug of your hands did Joker make his way to the exit, pulling you along with him. The two of you weren’t being watched so closely now that it was obvious that Joker was of no danger to anyone. Rumours about the two of you could be vicious and unwarranted, but no one could deny that the two of you were intensely in love with each other, though the motivations and true feelings behind such a feeling were often called into question. 

“Wait, Joker, you forgot something - “

Joker stilled and he turned, his fingers lacing with yours as he turned his head slowly. You could see a desperate urgency within his eyes, wild freedom brightening his eyes. It was a look, a glint, which was only there in people who knew what it was like to have such a thing denied to them, for whatever reason. 

“What?”

You surged upwards, claiming your lips with his. “I love you, angel.”

He hummed, his smirk softening and fading into the most gentle of smiles. You were worth the minor damage to his reputation in Gotham’s most reputable bar - which wasn’t saying much, you knew. “I love you too.”

The sirens increased in volume as the two of you ran out into the night, footsteps quick and back-alleys used as you made your way back home. Every Joker needed an ace up his sleeve.

The Arthur Fleck/Joker Defense Squad @writings-of-a-gen-z                      @x-avantgarde-x       @insomniabird      @mavalenovaninagavi     @itwasrealenough     @morrisonmercurymalek     @rand0ms-fand0ms     @rafaelina-casillas     @aclownthing       @vivft                                          @help-i-am-obssessed      @autumnaffection       @taintednihilist   @vladtoly   @mg-woolf99      @misstgrey92   @dopey-fandom-girl         @seeking-dreamland      @sweetheart-syndrome      @heartxfdesire     @xmusichealsthesoulx       @0callmejude0      @the-one-that-likes-riddles        @hannibalsslut       @folliaght            @freeeshavacadoo         @bingewatchingmylifegoby       @unlovedbyeveryoneandeverything @okamiredfoxx       @sp0okysp0oky  @the-pandorabox      @mardema @jibanyyan        @honeyflvredcoughdrop         @emissarydecksetter @jokerfleckk         @epidendroideae         @chuuntas          @stillmabel       @pumpkinpeyes       @onehystericalqueenposts          @the-jokers-wolf       @nalsswa  @justahyena       @arianatheangelworld  @soullessblondbitch @gothamslittlejester  @twentyonestarrynights  @sirianfromsixties @kissmeclownman    @joker-is-my-hero  @lazyloosah  @lovesickkloxx @ladylovelyluna      @live-love-loki  @clownerybbxx   @tragicarthur    @anmach123      @rommie-chan      @arthurflock     @lucyboytom                  @immortal-bi-bitch    @hearthurfleck     @jokersproperty     @curlystark     @hailmary-yramliah    @sagyunaro     @playinthedarktillitsgoldenagain     @jokeringcutio      @xenthefox   @mijachula @stcrrynightsinneverlcnd      @cheyennejonas22    @mrjfleck      @pauli1100     @smitten-susie    @actualkey     @callmejokerfleck   @jaylovesbats    @itsforyoubitch      @ridiculousnerd     @killerprotector3579       @soulsdontbreaktheybeeend     @fantasticwinnerclodexpert                  @arthurs-sweater      @pinkie44pie    @tsukiakarinobara      @prettyxlittlexpsychoxprincess   @elodia-gahan   @yours-mia     @parkdonghoons      @lady-carnivals-stuff                         @hobi-hobi-kyo-kkyu      @jupiturde        @incognitofish      @j-sux      @nothing-but-a-comedy      @tahliamalfoydepp     @sgtsavoytruffle         @smol-nari       @pocket-clown     @joker-flecked-me      @millandram     @obsessedandthirsty   @holosexualunicorn7000    @anyatheladyclown   @imightaswellnotexistatall      @elusive-ivory    @funneeeh    @jokerhoe    @carnivalou      @floralhijabix         @sonrisa-yk     @livingmydreamsquietly    @marymadly     @that199xgrrrl

[melyaliz]

Canary pt 18

Canary Masterlist  

Fandom: Marvel 

Summary: They were two souls bound together. Twisted up so tight that the only one that could break their bond was them. 

Pairing: Loki x Reader 

Notes: I don’t want to say goodbye to my Snake and Canary… someone send help! 

I hope this meets everyone’s expectations. If not let me know and I’ll change some things. I MAY turn this into a novel. Like, go back and heavily edit it. I mean why not? Then I don’t have to say goodbye. So if there was anything you guys wanted to see or feel like was missing let me know. 

HUGE THANK YOU: To @bolontiku​ Thank you for being SUCH amazing support and also inspiring this story with your own amazing Loki fanfics. Especially her Mortal series. If you haven’t READ IT! And leave her tons of love.  

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive​​

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

DONATE or REQUEST

----

“And in the end, we were all just humans drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness.” I would say that F. Scott Fitzgerald knew what he was talking about except love wasn’t what healed me. 

It was what broke me. 

I was FINE. 

Fine before that… that SNAKE walked into my life and messed everything up. Acting like he cared. Acting like he saw me for anything more than what I presented to the world. 

I wasn’t looking for love. 

I wasn’t some tragic heroine who just needed a missing piece in her life. 

I was complete with myself. 

I can heal myself.

I am strong by myself. 

I am enough. 

So three days of being sad and moping and I rose back up from the shards of my heartbreak. No longer a little canary but a phoenix raising her wings high in the air burning bright with the sounds of her war cries.  

-----------------------

Two months, that’s how long it had been since the Oger king. Since then the Avengers hadn’t seen anything QUITE like it. Just your normal disagreements among countries and other normal hero work. In fact, it was one of those “normal” missions that Canary was coming back from. Excited to just take a shower and maybe have a cuddle with her pillows while binge-watching the latest season of The Good Place.  

“And here I thought you were gone for good” 

He was perched at the edge of her bed. Crosslegged fingers playing with THAT necklace. - You know the one- A very proud smirk on his face as he looked up at her as she stood in the doorway of her bedroom, mouth agape. 

So she did what any normal girl would do when she sees her ex just making himself comfortable in her bed after spending a week overseas fighting baddies. 

Screams.

“GET OUT!” 

Her words sharp and blunt like a hammer shot like an arrow ready to smash him through another wall. However this time instead of crashing into him like it’s intended effect Loki caught the sound of her cries with the necklace. The Saphire gemstone catching the sounds swirling around inside cracking and sparking like lighting. A storm brewing, like the one inside Canary’s heart.  

“If I’m going to be around you I better learn how to protect myself.” Loki chuckled looking over the beautiful gemstone the twinkled back. He had just stolen her words, like some sea witch. Well, this mermaid was having none of that. 

“If, sorry but that’s a no for me.” she folded her arms over her chest leaning against the doorframe. Who did this guy think he was just waltzing back into her life? 

Oh right, Loki. 

“A no?”

“You, being around me. It’s a hard no.”

Loki sighed leaning forward his green eyes reminding her so much of a cat that was up to go good. If there was a glass cup of water he would have spilled it by now, “But why?”

But why? Was he serious? 

She sighed, exhaustion returning to her body as the fight slowly left her, “Just take your necklace and go.”

“I left it for you.” he said twisting it in his hand,  “you and me.”

“There is no more you and me, or did you forget? You are immortal who can live forever and I’m…” Her voice was flat now. The emotion gone, dead. They had been killed when those very words had been spoken to her. Yet there was still some fight behind her eyes as they flashed with each memory of what the man in front of her had done. 

How he had made her feel. 

His hand gripped her arm so quickly she had no time to react. And in a moment they were gone, teleported away. 

The little hero blinked and she was no longer standing in her bedroom but a field of bright wildflowers. 

Canary yellow.  

“Ok go, be as loud as you want. Tell me JUST how you feel.”

“What?” She stood there blinking in shock her brain trying to process what was going on. One moment she was at the Avengers Tower and the next she was… here.

“I know you are mad at what I said. I was an idiot. I got scared and I acted rashly. Let me have it.” 

“Why.”

“What?” 

“Why did you act rashly?” folding her arms over her chest she glared at him. Eyes hard trying to figure him out. Trying to understand what he wanted from her. Why he did the things he did. 

“Because it’s what I do when I start to fall in love I do something to ruin it.” 

“Love?”

“Yes,” He stood before her taking her other hand in his green eyes hard as he held her gaze praying his words would be enough, “you own my heart. You took it in your hands and helped it grow, let it be something I never through it could be. Heard.” 

She didn’t move, bearly breathed as he spoke for fear that it would break this spell. That she would wake up from some weird dream and he would still be gone. That he wouldn’t mean these words that made her heart hurt and bloom at the same time. “When I realized that I just… I wanted to ruin this beautiful thing you have given me before anything else could. But what I forgot was you, my Canary and only I have the power to ruin that.” 

“Who said I was yours?” Her words were bearly a whisper, a prayer. Sent up to all the gods above. Please let this be true. Please. 

Loki chuckled taking a few steps closer to her as he felt their words float around them like petals in the wind. Gently he rested his forehead angst hers, “You are mine, and I am yours. And nothing can tear that from us but us.” 

His words clung to the air, held up like the breath she was holding. Letting it go Canary sighed, “How will I know you won’t leave me again?” 

“Because I can’t.” a promise, soft and sweet. They caressed her like the breath that carried the. “Because I love you.” 

He kissed her then. His touch filled with so much emotion. Sorrow, longing, pleading. His hands moved from her own to her face cradling her as she leaned forward to deepen the kiss. Giving him what he wanted. 

Her love in return. 

It bubbled up inside her spilling out in a burst of giggles. Eyes tight shut as she gripped his wrists. Rays of sunshine bursting through the dark clouds that she never knew were covering her. Breaking through all her walls and swirling around them like music. 

Loki smiled down at her as she laughed in his arms. Basking in her light, reveling in her beauty. 

Because of all the sounds he had ever heard, it was her laugh that he loved the most. 

-GET TAGGED!- 

Forever tag: @royslittleharper​​​  @the-shadow-of-atlantis​​​ @coffee-randomness​​​ @0hmydeku​ @xx3fsxx​ @daisyboobear​​​   @jason-redhood​​ @hello-i-lovespiderman-blr​ @ocelysium​ @pinkwitch21 @tomhncharliep  @cdwmtjb8​

Loki: @wayward-hell​​ @winterssoldierrs​

Canary: @baybay123455​ @rizanendoza808 @dragonrosegardens​ @6-daughter-of-a-witch-6​ @califorina-grown @2s0uls​ @oh-no-a-whovian​ @it-jinxed-us​ @pixiehex1985​ @bolontiku​

[iamanartichoke]

Why do you feel that way about fandom? (In regards to your latest reblog)

Ah, I’m not sure if I know how to explain it, but I’ll try. (This got long, so I’m really sorry.)

The thing is, I first got into the Loki fandom early in 2018, so I’m coming up on about two years of being active here. That first year was so fun and exciting; I was elated to be able to discuss my Loki theories and meta with like-minded people, and I was so happy (and surprised!) at the attention my fic was getting.

I was also still at a point where I believed IW was going to blow our minds, so there was that extra kind of thrill of suspense (and a bit of fear but, when you believe in the MCU and haven’t yet lost faith in its writers/directors, the fear is surface-level and adds to the thrill - there’s not really the accompanying dread and despair). 

IW was a crushing blow to that, of course, but even though we were all devastated, we were all devastated as a fandom. We were still in it together; we had one another to vent to and cry with and share fic with. “Loki is alive bc reasons” became kind of an unwritten rule in most post-IW fics; we all agreed that Loki deserved better. 

In 2019, two things happened: one, I was underemployed and dragging my feet on finding better employment due to my mental health, which ruined my life for a little while. I had to move back in with my parents, which (I love them and am grateful they were willing to support me, but) was a toxic environment. I was too depressed to indulge in my escapism the same way (fic and fandom) and my progress on my stories slowed way down. I’ve never quite been able to get back the momentum I had when writing Sanctuary, but that’s another issue. 

The second thing that happened was, obviously, Endgame came out and whatever theories and hopes the fandom was collectively holding onto about Loki were crushed. Not only that, but the portrayal of Thor seemed to amplify the divide in the fandom between the pro/anti Ragnarok argument. 

It seems, to me, that what was a series of battles or skirmishes only became an all-out war after Endgame. That’s only my perception, of course, but I do feel that the latter part of 2019 saw the divide grow larger and larger. Everyone had opinions on what the “correct” portrayal of Thor was, and how it related to Loki, and whether fanon Thor and Loki’s relationship was founded in canon or not. Everyone was defensive of their own point of view; bullying and name-calling and anon hate became more widespread. 

Again, this is just my observation. Those who’ve been on the front lines since Ragnarok came out probably have a much different perspective; I’m only talking about what I observed bc it directly impacts how I feel about fandom these days. 

So here we are in 2020; like I said, I’ve been here about two years. I haven’t rewatched any of the Thor movies in ages (although @delyth88 and I are talking about it), because they make me so sad and also so angry. Sad for what we had, angry for what could have been. So much wasted potential. Loki’s horrific end hangs over everything, as does Thor’s radical character change, and I don’t have the same excited outlook about the characters and the meta potential anymore. 

Not having watched the movies in a long time, along with that feeling of “ugh” around them, impacts me creatively bc I’m not actively feeding my writing inspiration. For me, fanfic writing comes from being so full of feels about the source material that I just can’t get enough and I need more. I draw my inspiration from things like watching Loki’s facial expressions, catching subtle moments between Thor and Loki, analyzing the way they speak, thinking about the story choices happening, and so on, and so on. 

My source of inspiration has dried up, in other words, which has made it hard for me to keep a good writing momentum going. I was feeling great when I rewrote Sea, and then my inspiration kind of plummeted again - this time, bc I felt that I did such a good job rewriting and the response was so positive, I didn’t know if I could finish the rest of the story as well. Like I was already setting up the second half to fail, bc it would be much more “rough draft” than the first - revised and polished, yes, but not gone over with a fine-toothed comb the way the first part was. 

The truth is, I carry a lot of stress and anxiety around my writing. I am always incredibly anxious that no one actually likes my fic, that no one is reading my fic, that people think it’s stupid or pointless, that my quirky humorous touches are ooc, that my plotlines are convoluted and boring and my sex scenes awkward and non-existent. 

I’m having trouble with the Valki relationship bc I haven’t watched Ragnarok in so long, I’ve forgotten how much chemistry was between them and how it made me feel. I’ve forgotten why I chose to pair them up in this ‘verse in the first place. And I worry about that, too - that the people who read my stories for the Valki are walking away unsatisfied. 

So that’s where I am with fic writing - slow and steady, still trying to find my footing, still secretly assuming what I write is shit.

This is on top of feeling more and more isolated on tumblr, mostly because of the aforementioned tensions and overall negativity that’s erupted in the fandom. I have been unfollowed and blocked by people who were once mutuals; I have been blocked by people I’ve never spoken to before. 

There’s so much stress surrounding the things I post now - I’m constantly thinking, have I worded this correctly to convey my meaning without shitting on someone else’s opinion? Is this post going to be the one that makes this or that mutual unfollow me? Am I tagging correctly so my pro Ragnarok mutuals don’t see my criticism, and vice versa? Can I still post pictures of Chris Hemsworth, who is possibly the only man in the world I am definitely attracted to, which is a shame bc I agree that he’s kind of a douche now? But he’s so beautiful, but I have to disclaim that it’s just his face I’m attracted to? If I reblog this post about Loki that I think is hilarious, but is also founded on the flat stabby villain characterization, will I alienate my anti friends? Does it imply I don’t understand or appreciate Loki and that, by reblogging the thing, I’m endorsing a shitty characterization? 

And so on. It makes scrolling my dashboard uncomfortable and un-fun, bc I end up saving tons of posts to my drafts without reblogging them, and after awhile I am not enjoying myself, so I stop scrolling. 

But this means I miss tons of mutuals’ posts, and I was trying to check individual blogs for awhile but I kept falling further behind, and there were more and more posts I’d missed, and I’d get overwhelmed and then feel like they probably hated me anyway at this point for being a shit mutual, so I might as well just keep lurking on the dash for ten minutes and call it a day. 

On top of that, I haven’t read fic in awhile bc of this mindset, so I haven’t commented, and then when I don’t get comments it’s like, well, maybe the story’s not shitty but no one’s reading it bc what do I expect when I’m not reading theirs? You’re not special, Charlotte. 

The worst part about all of this is that none of it should diminish (and hasn’t diminished!) my love of Loki as a character. I am excited about the series, but I am also very anxious about it - about the story not being good, yes, but also about the inevitably divide that will further split the fandom. 

No matter how the story goes, someone’s going to be upset. You can’t please everyone, and trying only makes for worse storytelling. So the wank will continue. 

But I love Loki. I love everything about him. I am interested in writing about him and reading about him and thinking about him. I am invested in him and always will be. It’s just that, right now, I’m kind of falling further and further out of fandom and I find I have less to say. 

And so I either have to wait it out, or work on my own mindset, or keep on keeping on. I just don’t know how long that will take or if I’m even liked enough here to try to bother. 

tl;dr: Fandom has made me cynical and jaded, and it has dampened not my love of Loki, but my love of interacting with the Loki fandom.

(I know you didn’t ask for this hot garbage pile of my feelings, anon, so I’m sorry.) 

[itsclydebitches]

How do you feel about derivative art? I'm guessing you approve since you're big into fanfics. Is art that's derivative as good as original art? Could a well made video critique of a film be better then the film? Or a fanmade rewrite be better then the original book? And yes I know nothing "original" exist, but that's not the same thing as art that is obviously derivative. And the big question. Should artist be allowed to make money off derivative art?

For me it’s an all around “Yes.” I’ve read fics leagues better than published novels. I’ve seen fanvids far better than films. Granted, when you get into the subject of visual media you run into things like finances and access to technology. Anyone can craft a story with words, but only a few have the budget and tools required to re-create the sort of Blockbuster films we’ve grown used to. But why in the world would that very specific style be the only “good” art out there? Obviously it’s not. If anything, we value limitations in our art. Six second vines shot on cell phones are adored and can lead to lucrative careers. Films like the Blair Witch Project want to mimic an armature cinematography, like these people really were just shooting what they could while running for their lives. Amateur does not in any way equal lesser. To say nothing of the fact that fans have shown time and time again that a passion for the material and a huge amount of work ethic is more than enough. As the recent Loki logo abomination attests, all the money and resources in the world doesn’t guarantee taste---or success. Outsiders to fandom love to criticize the “horrible” fics they found when they dove into AO3 for all of ten minutes, but fail to acknowledge that you’re just as likely to find a terrible book when you pull one randomly off of B&N’s shelves. If derivative art is somehow lesser than we need to re-evaluate the comics industry. And every formulaic western, rom-com, police procedural. And every great author (there are a LOT) who wrote “classics” based off of other’s characters and worlds. Art is art. Mainstream art is in no way superior to fan art, no matter how much people still want to convince us of that. 

The money question is, admittedly, waaaaaay more complicated. For me though it’s still a “Yes” simply because of how fandom functions. That is, we need the canon. Even if it becomes outdated, or is considered offensive, or is absolutely terrible compared to what the fandom has now produced, people will STILL consume that material (and more importantly buy it) in order to get access to all the good fan stuff. I’ve simply never bought into the argument that derivative works are a threat to the livelihood of the original piece because they depend on that piece. All my friends are in a fun discord for TV Show X. They’re producing all these fics I want to read. I’ve heard that Show X is actually pretty bad, but I’m going to watch it anyway because that provides me with the context that produced all this other stuff. It’s the foundation, the blueprints, the golden ticket to get inside the fandom. Will every fan do this? No, some do bypass the canon and just dive right in, but the majority of them will. Meaning that rather than posing a threat to the original author’s livelihood as most people assume, fanworks help keep mainstream content alive. Adding a price to that doesn’t change anything. If someone offers me a fic for free I’m gonna tackle the canon book first. If someone offers me a fic for $10... I’m still gonna tackle the canon book first. Either way the author gets paid and are likely to get more if fans use their work as an entry point into the fandom. “I wouldn’t have read/watched your stuff at all, if it weren’t for the fact that I want to read the stories my friend is now producing.” Giving that friend some rent money is the least we can do. 

(There are obviously other arguments against making money off of derivative works, two of which boil down to “It’s against the law”---which funnily enough we create and control and can change if perspectives change---and “They’re my creations and I don’t want you messing with them, let alone making money off them.” I’ve got a lot of feelings regarding that one and in an effort to save a bit of space I’ll boil it down to a very unkind response: Too bad. Transformation is at the heart of human interaction with art. If you didn’t want that you shouldn’t have given it to the public in the first place. Authors don’t get to police how fans interact with their work: “I love it when you take the time to write me glowing reviews! .... oh, but not when you write another story. Please continue making awesome fan posters that promote my work! ... but not one with those two characters kissing ew.” Authors don’t get to dictate how fans interact with the art they’ve put out there; how much of it is active and in what ways.) 

We also have to consider that we’re already in a world where those lines are irrevocably blurred. Why does E.L. James or Anna Todd get to make a fortune off of their barely changed fics? Why do artists get to sell their fanart but fic writers are still largely terrified of lawsuits? Fans are already making money off their work---always have, really---and I doubt that’s something we can reverse. Whether or not it continues to grow is the real question. 

Personally, I wouldn’t want to see derivative works commercialized, not because fans don’t deserve to earn money for their labor (we do), but just because that would irrevocably change fandom dynamics. We’re a gift economy and we’re built on that. Fandom has always been about progressive acts: be it writing about queer identities, providing accessibility accommodations decades before mainstream art did, or (and this is the kicker) helping to level out class differences. Meaning, mainstream art is often for the rich and the elite. Broadway shows are insanely expensive and impossible for most to get to. Movies prices have skyrocketed. Every company is creating their own streaming service, requiring that you pay three or four $20+ monthly subscriptions instead of just the one. It’s all about money and fandom is one of the few places where we still exchange art for praise and more art, rather than a paycheck. Fic is free. Fanvids are free. You guys want a cute drawing of this couple? All you have to do is send in a prompt ask and I’ll draw it! Sure, I’d also love it if you paid for a commission, but I’m going to keep creating free drawings on the side. When was the last time we saw a mainstream author go, “Please continue to buy my last story, but in the meantime here’s a free novel I’m putting up on my website. Hope you enjoy!” I mean yes, we do get things for free (especially when it comes to many games, apps, and some short stories), but not like in fandom. There’s a culture of giving that I never want to lose. Are we already doing commissions and con sales? Yes. Do we often ask for donations and payment? Yes. Should we be able to continue doing so without fear of legal action? I think so. But I don’t want a general sense of “I should be allowed to earn money off of this” get turned into “Well if I can earn money off of this why wouldn’t I?” I never want our work to exist fully behind a wall where the key in is your credit card number. Fandom is unique in its, “I made this thing because I wanted to and I shared it with you because I wanted to do that too, no strings attached” and that, I think, is worth protecting. 

[realityhelixcreates]

Temple of Tree Bark/The Adulation of Tongues

Chapters: 46/? Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Warnings: None Relationships: Loki x Reader (Someday) Characters: Loki (Marvel), Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), It’s Just (Ah) A Little Crush (Crush), Longing For A Longhouse, Shiny Shrines Summary:  You come to a conclusion and share some light conversation, as a mysterious illness spreads.

You dozed lightly under the golden sparkles of the healing machines, while Loki sat by your side, going through his daily paperwork. You still couldn't help but wonder if this really would fix your face or not. These machines had not been built with humans in mind, so this was technically experimental medicine.

You'd been given back your snacks, deemed poison-free, and shared them with Loki. He was not particularly taken with your favorite cheese crackers, but he proved fond of chocolate covered peanuts.

He spoke to you about his paperwork, the complaints and requests of the people, his voice a soothing backdrop to your rest.

It wasn't just his voice. You had come to the conclusion that you were developing a hunger for his presence. What you weren't sure about yet was if it was because he made you feel safe-being strong, and magical, and powerful in many ways-or if it was something else.

If it was the former, that did make a kind of sense. Your relation to Loki was complicated. He was the cause of many of  your worries, many of the dangers you now faced, but he also hadn't really done it on purpose, and most of the things he did for you were to ameliorate your troubles. He really seemed to care.

If it was the latter, if you were actually falling for the handsome prince, like in some fairy tale...Well, you didn't know what you were going to do. Was that even allowed? You weren't even the same species.

But the king had famously pursued Dr. Foster. So perhaps it was. Or perhaps that was one of the many changes to the law Thor had made, or at least proposed to make. Saga had had much to say about it.

But Dr. Foster was an astrophysicist with a PhD and everything. You were not. Everything special about you had been given to you, rather than earned. Forced on you, one could say. Loki had swooped in and done so much for you, and he clearly intended to do more. You couldn't expect him to love you on top of all that. No, it surely wasn't possible between you, and you found yourself hoping it was just the former.

You'd already had your heart broken, and worse. The reminder of that dark time in your life was camping outside the city, with a bunch of protesters who hated Loki, and everything they thought he stood for.

This was no time for romance. This was no time to even want romance. This was a time for you to be learning magic, and law, and self defense. Romance had to be secondary, tertiary, even quaternary to all that.

You shouldn't think about it. The more you thought about it, the more likely it was to become what you were telling yourself you couldn't want. After all, wouldn't it justify what that murderer was trying to do? Wouldn't it make you a traitor to the human race, the 'devil's whore' as he had called you?

No! Of course not! That guy was just a murderous racist, nothing he said really mattered. Besides, you couldn't betray humanity by caring about someone. Loki was no devil, and he wouldn't pay you to sleep with him, so you were no whore.

Oh no, shouldn't have thought about sleeping with Loki. Shouldn't have thought about it...

But you already knew the strength of his arms and the gentleness of his hands. The intensity of his gaze and the weight of his body on yours. The smell of his hair, the texture of his skin, the bubbling tingle of his magic inside you. You even knew what most of his body looked like by now, when you had seen him bare and dripping with bathwater.

The golden healing light always made you feel warm, but the heat crawling up your face had nothing to do with it this time.

Okay fine, maybe you had a little crush. You knew how to deal with living around what you couldn't have, and you were an adult. You could handle rejection.

You could also imagine what his voice would sound like, how his face would contort in the throes of passion...

“Are you all right, my dear?” Loki asked, concern lacing his voice. “You are squirming a bit. Is is uncomfortable?”

“No, I'm fine!” You shouldn't be thinking about things like that. He was sitting right there!

“Do tell me if there is anything wrong. If it becomes uncomfortable, I can turn the machine down, or give you another massage, if you'd like.”

Foul tempter. Maybe he was a devil after all.

A commotion approached, multiple voices spouting fast-paced Asgardian. Loki frowned, lines on his brow.

“It sounds like a construction worker has been injured. I'll go check.”

He left for a few moments, returning wearing a perplexed expression.

“It appears that he is not injured, but has come down with some illness from which he will not wake. His brother found him like this, and is going to be kept here as well.”

You sat up under the golden sparkles. “Now that's something I never thought of! Even between groups of humans, first contact always brought terrible diseases! Can Asgardians even get sick?”

“Asgardians fall ill, yes.” Loki confirmed. “Aesir do not.”

“Maybe that's why Thor didn't unleash a plague the first time he came here. But I've been surrounded by Asgardians for months, and I haven't gotten sick, or gotten anybody else sick. I'm sorta connected to an Aesir though, that might be why. Or maybe our diseases are just so different from each others, that they are just now starting to mutate into something that can infect one another. Loki, we've really got to look into germ science! We could be sitting on an epidemic!”

“Darling, I know!” He grasped your hand tightly, stroking the back of it to soothe you. “We have thought of this, and we have already begun. Humankind is very aware of the dangers of pathology that an alien species presents. We have submitted to your doctors, samples of every disease known to affect us...no matter how much some argued they could be used to make weapons against us.”

“Or vaccines!” You pointed out.

“Your optimism is a balm, my dear.” He said. “That was the initial purpose, of course. The Earth will be safe from our pathogens with your crude, but effective vaccines, and we shall be safe from your illnesses with the use of our own medicine.”

The commotion started all over again.

“Another one?” Loki wondered.

“Maybe we should go.” You said. “What if they need this room? My face can wait.”

                                                                    *****

Blueprints and road plans, that was his life now. He'd been a mason before, and fairly idle: Asgard rarely needed new buildings, and rarely needed repairs done; it had been so solidly built in the first place. He's made most of his living in the colonies before...before.

Now he lived, crammed with the rest of the population into tiny apartments that he had helped build; temporary shelters for the severely reduced realm of Asgard, while the survivors of Ragnarok all pitched in to build homes, businesses, and roads. He was lucky. He'd had training in building things, and had been given authority over an entire crew of workers. Unfortunately, nearly none of them had been builders. They'd been butchers, metalworkers, artists, scribes. But they did their best, and the nation was growing up from the ground, sturdily if not quickly.

The door opened, and the figure of his wife hustled in.

“Hildegarde, sweet one, I did not expect you back so soon.” He smiled at her, still so blessed by her presence. They had come through so much together. “Let me get you something to drink.”

“Please, that would be lovely.” She said. “I left a little early today. As much was done as could be, for now.”

He dutifully fetched a pitcher of Midgardian ale-weak, but flavorful-for her. Hildegarde worked hard breaking ground and mixing cement, work only for those with strong backs and arms. He was so lucky.

She took a good, long drink, no doubt weary from a hard days work.

“Oh, I haven't the patience.” She declared, holding her arms open. “Come to me darling. I have a well-deserved reward for you!”

He chuckled, wrapping her up in a hug and bringing his lips to hers. Her kiss was more electrifying than he remembered, bringing a rush of pleasure and contentment. It went on and on, until her strong arms were holding him up, his legs no longer able to support him.

Still, he felt no fear, even as he weakened further, only pleasure, and the deep heartfelt love he had for his wife, even as he struggled to draw breath. She would not let him.

Not until his eyes had glazed over, and the last dregs of his life ebbed, did she drop him on the floor and leave, tail swishing behind her.

                                                                        *****

You were much better able to walk the next day, though it was still easy to become dizzy and overbalanced, so Loki took you to the healing wing early, to absorb some healing light. There was wailing the wing however, as one of the men had died in the night, and the others-five in total-remained asleep. The newest had been brought in just before you had arrived, by his distraught wife, who claimed she'd been working deep into the evening and had simply fallen asleep at her construction site, only to come home in the morning to find him collapsed on the floor.

“This is spreading far too quickly.” Loki murmured to you. “We should come back later.”

Instead he took you back to the tiny library in his rooms, gave you paper to draw on, and began pulling old books from his shelves.

“Some of these are from my father's collection.” He said, flipping one open. “Here is a human temple once dedicated to him.”

He showed you an illustration of a large wooden building, ornate and clearly ancient.

“Alas, not a trace of it exists anymore. Wood is impermanent, and subject to a great many methods of destruction. Still, I hear it was nice while it lasted, for such a primitive construction.”

“Hey, I think it looks really nice.” You said. “So we're behind on our Nornbein technology or whatever. We still build some pretty cool things. Ever see the pyramids?”

“Of course I have. Not when they were new, no. They were old, even as I was young. I'm only a thousand or so, that's all.”

“Oh...that's all.”

“What? Brunnhilde is three, and Heimdall is nearly five. He might have seen them when they were new.”

“Okay, but they are pretty impressive, yeah? And they weren't built by aliens either!”

“Of course not! It would have taken much less time to build them, their decorations would have been more securely fastened in place, and, most importantly, aliens would not have built such things and then simply abandoned them.”

“Did you ever get a temple?”

“Unfortunately, no.” He crossed his arms sourly. “In my youth, a transition was taking place on your Midgard. In the lands where I and my people were known, a new religion and new power structure were taking over, and they replaced us. But Odin was pulling away from Midgard anyway, and so we disappeared from your world. Fewer and fewer of us came for our training modules, and we were gradually forgotten.”

“You sure aren't forgotten anymore! Maybe they'll build a temple for you now.”

“Hmph. More like a gallows.”

“Loki!”

“Yes, yes, alright. Perhaps I will eventually be accepted. But I doubt there will be even the tiniest shrines to me anytime soon.”

You shrugged. “I could make one. A shrine to the great god of...wait, what are you the god of?” He wasn't the god of evil, like that book had claimed, but no one had ever told you what, exactly, his Aesir associations were.

“How cute. What would it look like? Your little shrine to your god?” He asked, skirting the question entirely, leaning his chin on his hands, elbows on the table.

“Er, w-well...” Your god? You didn't worship him! You didn't really worship anybody right now. With everything that had happened over the past few years, you had some things to figure out, regarding spirituality.

“Well, I've never built anything before, so it wouldn't be very big, or very fancy. I think what I would do-” You began sketching. “Is to get a bunch of rocks or bricks, and make a circle. Then put layers and layers on top until it's kinda like a well? Then I'd put a plate inside, and make offerings of cinnamon pastries.”

“How utterly charming. I might just decree that you must do exactly that.”

“Try it and I might just leave plain cinnamon sticks instead.” You threatened.

“It comes in sticks? I could just have a bite of pure cinnamon?”

You laughed. “You don't want that! It's literally just tree bark!”

“Truly? You just peel bark from a tree and put it in your food? Humans really will eat anything.”

“Anything that doesn't instantly kill us, and a few things that will only kill us slowly. Though you'd be surprised how much of what we eat is just beans or grass. The coffee? Beans. The corn? Grass. The chocolate covered peanuts? Beans and beans. Bread? Grass.

But then there are the fun things: The herbs and spices. Well, herbs are just leaves, it's spices that get really fun. Spices are basically anything that isn't leaves. Cinnamon is bark. Ginger is a root. Saffron is the stamen of a flower, and cloves are just dried up flower buds. There's also lots and lots of seeds, and some berries, and even hot peppers, which are just dried fruits.”

“You really aren't helping your case, you voracious little thing.” Loki teased.

“Oh yeah? Well, you're making Asgardian food sound super boring.” You shot back. “Are you seriously telling me that you guys conquered whole worlds, and didn't try the food?”

“Oh no, we absolutely did.” He took a piece of your paper and began sketching. “But it was the Vanir and the Alfar that had the most culinary influence on us. The Vanir prefer delicate, subtle flavors, and the Alfar are very...natural eaters. As you might expect from the ecology of their worlds, they do not employ much fire, therefore, much of their food is uncooked.

We took these influences and added our own flair. We like a good sauce, or a nice, thick gravy, but we simply don't celebrate the riot of flavor that humans so prize. I suppose that will change in time, as humankind exerts their own influence upon us. Or perhaps it will be the other way around, and we will convince humans to cease over-spicing everything.”

“Never gonna happen. Humans have fought actual wars over spices.”

“Well, perhaps we can convince humans not to go to war over every little thing as well.”

You sighed. “That's...also probably never gonna happen.”

“Shame.” He said. “Sounds like you could use a strong, fair, firm ruler. If only you'd had the opportunity to acquire one of those...”

“Oh, cut it out. You've already told me why that wouldn't have been a good idea in the end.”

“I have said no such thing. Just that the Earth would have been in danger either way, and I would have whipped you all into shape, and led you to glorious power. Of course, I could just be talking about you in particular, rather than humanity as a whole. You, who now live with royalty within arm's reach. Would you like a strong, fair ruler?”

His pointed stare, his little smirk, the way he leaned in, chin in hands, had your pulse pumping so hard that it hurt your tender head.

Was he flirting with you? No way.

The instant you turned away and grasped your head, he dropped all of his teasing and scooted close, wrapping his arms around you and murmuring concern. It was really too bad that being in his arms like this just made your head hurt more; it made it impossible for you to enjoy the moment.

“Maybe we should go back to the healing wing? Things should have calmed down by now.”

He brought his paperwork with him, and even saw a few petitioners out in the waiting room, allowing you to doze contentedly under the healing sparkles. Only when he was certain you were deeply asleep, did he leave to find his brother.

                                                                        *****

“So, when's little brother gonna propose?” Brunnhilde teased, as Thor wove a patterned sash from yarn. He'd taken up the habit to help with some of his issues after Ragnarok, the act of creation helping to mitigate the terrible memories of destruction. He occasionally sold his creations on human Etsy, under an alias. Very few people knew about it, and none of them were Avengers. Each of them was receiving a scarf for this winter's holidays.

“You jest,” He said, turning the dainty cards with careful delicacy, another skill he'd had to learn. “But you have not yet seen my brother in the throes of love. When Loki desires something, he begins planning immediately. He becomes consumed by that desire. It's actually a very common Jotun trait.”

“Yeah, they do get like that. You know, if you'd told me a thousand years ago that there would be a frost giant in the royal family, I'd have called you a liar and a blasphemer. And yet, here we are.” Brunnhilde shrugged. “He's a decent kid though, even if he has a few bad habits.”

“It's not as if I'm really that different.” Thor pointed out. “But my point is, I'm surprised that he hasn't been ordering her flowers, or draping her with jewels, or-”

“Thor!” Loki called, stalking into his rooms. “I need some good, Midgardian love poetry. Have you any recommendations?”

“There we go.” Thor said. Brunnhilde snickered. “And what is wrong with our poetry?” He asked.

“Nothing, in theory. It's just that I do not think it will translate well, and it's also full of concepts that _____ won't relate to. She's never been on a battlefield, under the stars. She's never experienced the whirl of combat, nor found any attestation to life therein. She's never had to fix the memory of a loved one in her mind while staring down a faceless horde in the moments before a war began, or heard the song of her lover in the clashing of swords or the whir of arrows. I don't think any of our metaphors will really reach her.”

“Have you asked her if she even likes poetry?” Brunnhilde asked.

“Everyone likes poetry.” Loki said. “Don't they?”

The Valkyrie shrugged. “Maybe. Why don't you ask her what kind she likes? It's not as if humans are strangers to battle; perhaps war poetry is popular here too.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“You know, I think she's had enough surprises over the past few months. She might actually like a little stability now. You might just consider including her in your plans regarding her every now and then, I bet she'd appreciate it.”

“Well...perhaps...Thor, your opinion?”

“I'd like to preface this by reminding you that, while I am the only person you know who has had a relationship with a human, that relationship ultimately failed. Do not hang too much upon my advice alone.”

“Well then, who else might I ask?” Loki asked in frustration.

“Humans!” Thor and Brunnhilde exclaimed as one.

“Hmph!” Loki crossed his arms. “I come to you for advice for once, and you blow me off! Typical.”

“I am not blowing you off, Loki, just saying that our experiences may be very different. There is no one way to court a human. Their wooing requirements can be vastly different from one another, and if you do not meet her individual requirements, she might not even recognize what you are trying to do.

Jane, for instance, has no interest in poetry, and did not want that from me. She found beauty and fulfillment in the vastness of the universe. Discover what she finds beauty in, and work with that.”

“That is...actually good advice.” Loki said. “What happened you you?”

Thor sighed, deep and dramatic. “I fear I may have begun to grow up.”

“Norns forbid!” Loki cried, clutching his chest, and both brothers broke into amicable chuckling.

“Yes, yes. You're both adorable, and I love you.” Brunnhilde interrupted. “But I have some concerns regarding your Buridag plans. Are you seriously going to let a bunch of unsupervised humans in here? Because they will be unsupervised. Because we don't have enough bodies to throw at the security detail. I think I've brought this up before, but, while I do think it is a good idea in theory, I don't know how we're going to swing the logistics.”

“By recruiting humans to police themselves, naturally.” Loki said. “Behold. A plan I have for securing the loyalty of our worshipers. And also benefiting them at the same time. That's the important part, truly.”

He held out the sketches he had made while speaking to you earlier. Thor took and examined them.

“Are these...These are longhouses?” He asked, baffled.

“Ooh, those look cozy.” Brunnhilde commented.

“Trollerkaerhalla is going to become a permanent fixture of Asgardian life; our friendly neighbors, who love and venerate us, as we deserve. They have defended us, they have sheltered _____ without question, and they are possibly the first and only human allies that I, personally, have on this planet. I propose that, as we are constructing a building to house justice for Buridag, that we also build this simple housing for our allies. You have looked upon the camp; you know some of those tents will not protect against the upcoming winter. These houses will protect them, as they did in the days of humans past. Updated for the modern setting, of course.”

“You want to build homes for the humans.” Thor said, his voice full of disbelief.

“_____ spoke about an oddly human concept called 'reconstruction' in which humans of today try to connect with the ways of humans from the past, so I thought this design would be well-suited to the humans in the camp. It shouldn't be hard to build in modern amenities either: electric wiring, and plumbing, and geothermal heating should all be easily-”

The King of Asgard grabbed his brother by the shoulder and pulled him into a crushing hug.

“Oof!” Loki grunted at the sudden squeeze. “I take it this meets your approval then?”

[fadingcoast]

Death Of The Lie  ||  Chapter 21: Proud

AUTHORS: @fandom-and-feminism​​​ & @fadingcoast​​

Summary: Odin and his daughter Hela are the perfect conquerors of the universe. The nine realms fall one after the other into their clutch. After Odin takes a second wife and has a son with her, he doesn’t need Hela anymore. Hela abandons her father and ends up marrying Laufey, a sworn enemy of the Aesir people. Not long after, she becomes pregnant with Laufey’s child. Odin cannot let that son be born, but against all odds, the boy survives. Odin is forced to bring him back to Asgard to be raised as his own until he could make further use of him. The half-Jotun-half-Aesir boy grows up to look and act a lot like his mother, which disturbs Odin, and makes him treat the boy horribly. Odin’s lies are deep and complex, but one day the boy will find out the truth about everything he is.

PAIRING: None RATING: Teen

MASTERLIST

Feedback is always appreciated and reblogs are encouraged!!

.-

Chapter 21: Proud

Twenty-nine months.

Tonight the brush going through Sigyn’s hair was nearly intolerable. Gwyn was just as silent as she was, for the same reason, but neither could even meet the other’s eyes in the mirror. All Sigyn could muster was to stare down into her lap and twirl the gold ring on her finger while her handmaid brushed her hair to a shine, just like every night before. It wasn’t like Loki to wait so long to return a letter.

Not a visit. Nothing. Twenty-nine months.

Word of the unrest plaguing Asgard had reached Alfheim a while back and each day that passed when she heard nothing from him only made her worry about him more. Taking on extra courses at the Sanctum kept her busy between her royal obligations and, if she was honest with herself, she was secretly glad it left her no time to think about Loki.

Except during these quiet times at night, when it was just her and Gwyn and getting ready for bed. Then the worry and the fear would creep up on her like a dark shadow and it was all she could do just to fall asleep after drinking the mead she would sneak from the kitchens.

Tears burned at Sigyn’s eyes and she raised her head to look at Gwyn in the mirror before she completely lost it. “Gwyn, I -”

What she saw in the corner of the reflection would have made her jump if Gwyn hadn’t been there watching her. Standing next to her door with his hands folded patiently behind his back was Loki, or one of his illusions. Given that Gwyn hadn’t seen him in the mirror it was likely the latter. He looked different, the shadows under his eyes deeper, his body leaner but no less defined. There was something new in his eyes, something like desperation and determination at the same time.

Gwyn put the brush down on the table and smiled at Sigyn in the mirror. “Yes, love?”

“I’m ready to go to bed now,” Sigyn said woodenly, trying to hide her shock. “Thank you. Good night.” Obviously unconvinced, Gwyn kissed Sigyn on top of her head and left the room.

“You had better still be there when I turn around,” Sigyn said, her eyes on the illusion smiling back at her solemnly. She spun on her chair and sobbed with relief at the sight of him. Subtle flashes of green dotted the hastily-made illusion as he walked across the room to her, the smile fading once he was standing next to the vanity.

“I’m so sorry,” Loki finally said. “I don’t have time to catch up right now, but I promise I will tell you everything soon.”

“I hope you have a good explanation for making me worry about you so much,” Sigyn scolded him, “because if you don’t, I’m thoroughly kicking your arse the second I see the real you again.”

That made Loki chuckle. “You’re right, and there’s a good reason. But right now there’s something more important, something I need you to do for me.”

Sigyn went to hold his hands, only to make them shimmer. “Yes, of course,” she said, trying to force a smile.

Loki hesitated before speaking again, the illusion flickering with his own doubt. “I- I need you to-” He sighed, and had to stop and gather his thoughts before he tried again. “The library. History of Asgard. I need a detailed account of Odin’s reign as Allfather. Before Frigga, before Thor.”

Eyebrows furrowed, Sigyn frowned at Loki’s vague request. Asgard’s library was full of books - not as much as in the one her own castle, but surely there would be an accurate retelling of Odin’s early years as King. The Aesir were proud enough of him. “Okay,” she agreed slowly, “but why?”

“And I need to know the line of genealogy for Jotnar royalty,” Loki interrupted, ignoring her question. “Not far back. Just the last couple of generations.”

“But Loki, can’t you -”

“Just… please,” Loki practically begged, the illusion flickering again. “I swear to you that I will tell you everything when this is all over. But there are centuries missing in our archives. Empty books with the pages torn out. Whole sections of books with ink splattered all over the paper to blot out whatever it used to say.” His fists clenched at his sides and he began to fidget with his thumb over his fingers. “Asgard’s history has been whitewashed and I need you to find out the truth, Sigyn. My future, our future, may very well depend on it.”

Sigyn knew Loki well enough to know when she wasn’t going to get any further information from him. He always kept his cards close to his chest and he was not going to reveal them until his strategy became clearer. The only way she could find out what terrible secret he was bearing was to play along and get what he needed. Sadly she nodded and her hand reached through the image of his. Even just pretending to hold his hand was better than nothing.

“I’ll get it for you,” she promised, trying to keep her voice strong. “I’ll assume you need discretion, so I will come to you the same way you came to me tonight. Give me two days and meet me in your chambers at sunset.”

This doesn’t feel right, Sigyn thought as she watched Loki’s illusion fade into swirls of green without another word. In her gut it felt like a final goodbye, and she didn’t like it.

But it’s not as though I have much of a choice.

He was not particularly keen on having to put this weight on Sigyn’s shoulders, but as he kicked torn pages and vandalized books that littered his library hideout, Loki understood he was not going to find the answers he seeked in Asgard. Everything about his birth was missing.

I am not their son.

Not a single mention to Frigga’s second gestation, while her first had been recorded in great detail.

I am not an asgardian.

The other end of the room held piles of books of whatever information he could find on Jotunheim. The great war and victory of Odin over Laufey: How they drove the blood thirsty Giants from Midgard, forcing them to retreat to their own world. How Odin’s armies devastated the land and took the Casket of Ancient Winters for safe keeping.

Steal the power source of the Jotuns, for they are vicious, violent, and savage. They rape, and murder, and torture. They spread fear wherever they go. They do not deserve power, for they are malicious and evil. They are monsters.

I am a monster.

Loki looked down at his hands, watching the air around them condense into a heavy fog. The tips of his fingers were turning blue, the nails dark and thick. With a low growl, he let his magic explode briefly, sending the table and all the books it held flying to the nearest wall. His hands went back to normal. He knew he did not have much time, whatever he was going to do, he had to do it fast.

.-

Loki walked across the icy surface of Jotunheim alone, his footsteps in the snow erased by the biting wind just as soon as he made them. His hands were two tight fists swinging at his sides as he approached the ruins of the Jotun palace. The guards by the door gave him a stony look but did nothing to stop him as he resolutely walked to the dais where the Jotnar King sat, glaring down at him as if he were waiting for him to come.

“Welcome back, Asgardian.” Laufey spat the words as if they pained him. “Or perhaps you expect me to say thank you?”

Loki blinked, but gave no sign of uncertainty. As Laufey paused, Loki took time to study him. The chiseled cheekbones, the high forehead, even the knobby knuckles of the king’s hands. Loki had seen them before, on his own body. Watching the rough patterns on Laufey’s skin, Loki remembered the guard that almost froze his hand. Their voice went through his mind again like a ghost. My prince? He wondered if those patterns the cold revealed were those of the royal bloodline or if all of them had it.

“You were the one who let us into Asgard.” Laufey stood up as he spoke, interrupting Loki’s thoughts. “Now my men are dead, and I have no Casket.” He walked closer and towered over Loki. “Why shouldn’t I kill you?”

“I’ve come to make you a proposition.” Loki spoke as steady as he could manage. Now that he was able to see the distinct features he shared with Laufey, he felt as though he was staring up into a mirror. How did I not notice before?

Laufey stood before Loki, staring, waiting for him to speak, and his guards closed in. Loki took a breath to calm himself down. Any sign of weakness and Laufey would cut his head without hesitation.

“I will conceal you and a handful of your soldiers, lead you into his chambers, and let you slay him where he lies.” Loki added a wicked smirk at the end for good measure.

Laufey considered the proposition, and motioned for his men to step back. He gave Loki a cold, joyless smile in return. “Why not kill him yourself? You have enough tricks up your sleeve.”

“I don’t think the people of Asgard would appreciate a king who murdered his predecessor,” Loki said plainly, staring back at him. “I'll keep the throne, and you will have the Casket. When all is done, we will have a permanent peace between our two worlds. Then I will have accomplished what Odin, and Thor, never could. Do you accept?”

Laufey studied Loki’s face. Something akin to curiosity flickered in his dark red eyes. “All this to prove yourself. To whom I wonder…”

Loki didn’t answer, and briefly wondered if Laufey could recognize his own blood in him as plainly as he could

“Very well, then,” Laufey agreed with a nod of his head. “I accept.”

Laufey gave his soldiers a small head move and turned his back to Loki, walking out of the throne room. His guards busied behind him and they began to discuss something in hushed, growling voices. Loki assumed himself to be dismissed but waited until a heavy ice door slammed shut just to make sure.

.-

The bright lights of the Bifrost made Loki feel nauseated, but he knew he had to put up his facade. He had to get through with this, for Asgard, for his future, and for himself. He had to finish what he started or it was all for nothing.

Heimdall waited for him at the other end, eyeing him suspiciously with his piercing golden stare as he stepped through the portal of light. “I turned my gaze upon you in Jotunheim, but could neither see nor hear you,” he said slowly, forming an accusation with his tone. “You were shrouded from me, like the Frost Giants who entered this Realm.”

“I learned that trick when I was a teenager, gatekeeper. And it is nothing compared to what you have hidden from me.”  Loki wished he could unleash on him but he needed him. For now.

Heimdall swallowed thickly and straightened his posture. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

That answers that question, Loki thought, as if there was any doubt before that a man who sees all could have known about my past.

Loki began to circle the podium Heimdall was standing on, heading toward the door that led out to the bridge. “You have great power,” he told the gatekeeper, though it was only a formality to keep him listening. “Did Odin ever fear you?”

Heimdall blinked at him but didn’t move, instead increasing his grip on his sword. “No.”

“And why is that?"

"Because he is my King, and I am sworn to obey him.”

“Was your king. You're sworn to obey me now. Yes?”

Heimdall hesitated for an uncomfortably long time. “Yes,” he finally said, just above a whisper.

“Tell me, Heimdall, where are Lady Sif and the Warriors three?” Loki already knew the answer but he wanted to see if Heimdall would confess. He had ordered the gatekeeper to close the Bifrost as soon as he was given the throne and if his hunch was correct it meant that Heimdall had gone against the direct order of the King.

“Tell me, Loki,” Heimdall retorted, perhaps sensing his cover had been blown, “how did you get the Jotuns into Asgard?”

“You think the Bifrost is the only way in and out of the Realm?” Loki asked rhetorically with a sardonic smile, walking around the gatekeeper again to more open space. “There are secret paths between worlds to which even you, with all your gifts, are blind. But I have need of them no longer, now that I am King.” Loki was now standing by the chamber’s door. “I will ask but once more. Where are Lady Sif and the Warriors Three?”

Heimdall clenched his jaw at the question, but did not answer. Loki sighed inwardly. He will never obey me. A tense silence stretched in the small room. He let those fools go to Thor. Loki noticed how Heimdall’s grip on his sword tightened even more.

“Then you leave me no choice.” Loki gripped Gungnir and squared his footing. “For your act of treason, you are relieved of your duties as Gatekeeper, and you are no longer a citizen of Asgard.”

It seemed like Heimdall was waiting for those words to be spoken. A vengeful smile spread across his face and he adjusted his grip to prepare to wield the sword.  “Then I need no longer obey you.”

He raised the massive sword and prepared to strike. Loki didn’t move, he didn’t even flinch, as if Heimdall’s actions were expected. With a wave of his hands, he made the air between his palms freeze. A blue cold glow shone bright, and seemed to protect him from Heimdall’s attack, slowing his movements, keeping him away from the prince.

The gatekeeper stared at what Loki had summoned: the Casket of Ancient Winters.

Ice shards swirled from the casket, the winds screamed, as the blizzard inside was unleashed. Snow and hail covered Heimdall, and the bridge around them. The temperature dropped fast, mist hovering over the observatory. Heimdall could not fight the storm. His fingers were frozen to the sword on his grasp, his armor cracked, his skin burned. Soon enough he was encased in an icy tomb, staring at Loki in full Jotun form.

Loki hit the chamber’s floor with Gungnir, making a ringing sound that spread through the metal structure. Then he inserted the staff in the control panel and activated the Bifrost.

“Ensure my brother does not return yet.”

The Destroyer seemed to nod before going inside the Bifrost. Loki took a deep breath and maneuvered on the control panel. The light became bluer and darker, bringing back with her a small group of Frost Giants, led by Laufey himself.

“Welcome to Asgard.”

.-

Frigga took another deep breath and covered Odin’s hand with her own once again, the shock of his barely perceptible pulse still no less alarming. Never before had she felt so hopeless during an Odinsleep, now that it felt like her entire world was crashing down around her. Not only was her husband at his most vulnerable now that he was in his Sleep and his age was beginning to weaken him, but both of her sons were having their own crises she could do nothing to help with. Giving the throne to Loki as a show of good faith was supposed to be for the good of the kingdom, since Loki had always been more level-headed and diplomatic than Thor and she needed to focus on caring for Odin, but she was beginning to question her decision since it appeared to only be making Loki more unstable and withdrawn. The future of the Realm may very well be in jeopardy as a result of her haste.

Shouting coming from the guards outside the chamber doors made Frigga rush to her feet and make a dash for her sword. A brief scuffle followed by two screams of agony had the Queen ready to fight to the death with whoever was on the other side. Her heart nearly stopped when she saw frost spread across the doors and felt a chill settle over the room.

Laufey.

Head held high, Frigga stood her ground as the first Jotun burst through the double doors. She charged at him and cut him down with a single slashing motion and raised her sword once more at the towering Jotun King to do the same.

But the Queen wasn’t fast enough to stop him. Laufey swiped at her with his massive arm and knocked her aside, causing her to hit her head on the wall and crumple to the floor in a daze, her sword meters out of her reach.

Clearly Frigga wasn’t part of Laufey’s plan. He ignored her and proceeded to Odin’s protective bed, easily pushing past the magical golden barrier around him to kneel over his helpless form.

Frigga tried to rise to her feet but her brain couldn’t communicate with her legs and she struggled just to sit upright and focus her eyes. Slowly she willed herself to gather power into her hands, waiting until the right moment to attack - too soon and it would do nothing but annoy him, too late and her husband would be dead. So she pretended to wait and watch as Laufey delivered his speech to his lifelong enemy.

“It is said that you can still see and hear what transpires around you, even in this state. I hope it’s true,” Laufey sneered, “so you know your death came by the hand of Laufey.” He loomed over the Allfather, casting a menacing shadow over him. “This is for Jotunheim. This is for my family.”

A blade of solid blue ice formed in Laufey’s hand and Frigga knew she didn’t have much time left to act. She poured everything she had into the magic she was going to cast at him, making her feel weak and dizzy.

Laufey raised the ice blade over his head, ready to strike, and Frigga lifted her arms as high as she could.

If I die, so will he.

Before she could release the spell, a blast of golden energy hit Laufey from the side and knocked him to the ground. Frigga allowed her magic to dissipate and turned her head to see where the attack came from, nearly sobbing with relief when she saw Loki standing in the doorway, wielding Gungnir like the King she knew he could be. She turned back toward Laufey but he was not dead yet. The Jotun had risen, shaking, to his feet, clutching the side of his abdomen where Loki had hit him. Blood trickled between his bony fingers.

“And your death,” Loki said, raising Gungnir again and coming closer to prepare for another strike, “came by the son of Odin.”

“Loptr…” Laufey looked at Loki with pleading eyes as he fell to his knees. His height was now almost eye to eye with Loki. “Odin’s lies are carved deep in your soul.”

Frigga wanted desperately to get up, to run to Loki and take from him the weight of the words Laufey was clearly going to tell him and kill the Jotun herself. But she was far too weak and had depleted her magic until she could rest again.

“What are you on about, monster?” Loki’s hands trembled as he gripped Gungnir, and directed the spear to hit again.

“My dear Loptr.” Laufey smiled, a sad longing smile. “Did you think I wouldn’t recognize you? Do you think that even with Odin’s spell all over you I wouldn’t see your mother in your eyes?”

Loki’s gaze flicked toward Frigga momentarily, a frantic question written in his eyes. Frigga shook her head - that was one secret she would take to her grave, if only to protect him. Her heart began to break seeing his resolve and his anger unravel before her eyes.

Laufey lifted his hand, as if he were to touch Loki’s face. But he hesitated, and Loki flinched when he saw the gesture. “Loptr...” His voice was gravelly and pained.

“My name is--”

“I know the name the Allfather gave you.” Laufey spat with a heavy breath. “But the name your mother chose was Loptr. Right before she gave her life for you.” The giant covered the wound on his side. A thousand years old wound, reopened, ironically, by Loki’s blast. “I’m sorry I didn’t get back in time to save you. There was nothing I could do to stop Odin from taking you. I’m just happy he didn’t kill you as I know was his intent.”

Loki’s stance slacked, and the grip on Gungnir loosened. At last Frigga was able to muster the strength to crawl while the pair were distracted. After what seemed like hours, finally her trembling fingers closed around the hilt of her sword.

“I am so sorry, Loptr.” Laufey’s voice broke, and his eyes focused on something behind Loki. “I hope you know your mother loved you. As did I.”

Loki was too stunned to move, and stared at the Jotnar King, unable to perceive what was happening around him. He felt the ice cold hand of the king’s grip his arm, and the push that followed. The bright flash of a sword missed his back by mere inches, and found its target in Laufey’s neck. Loki rolled on the floor, his armor and cape soaked with the blue blood that was still spreading all over. He heard a piercing scream, and the loud thump of another body hitting the floor.

More blood.

His head was spinning.

Your mother loved you.

Frigga left the sword impaled on the giant’s body, and dropped to the floor, trying to hold Loki close. But he recoiled from her embrace. “I am so sorry, my son,” she murmured.

“You are not my mother.” Loki spoke barely above a whisper.

I am a monster.

Frigga looked at him, heartbroken, tears on the corner of her eyes. What could she say? The lies had been exposed, and they were bleeding out like an open wound. The temperature in the room dropped, mist hovered on the floor. The blue frost giant blood froze completely. Loki’s magic burst from his body with an anguished scream that never reached his mouth and was set loose through his very skin instead, covering the walls and pillars with ice.

Frigga was knocked back by the impact, freezing the already ice cold blood that soaked her garments. Loki didn’t notice, rage was clouding his senses and the only thing he could focus on were the last words Frigga spoke to him as his mother.

Make your father proud.

Loki grabbed Gungnir and stood up, making his way towards the door. But he didn’t go far. Stopped by a bright flash of lightning, he slipped on the floor again. Thor stood in the doorway, fully armored and wielding Mjolnir once again.

“Thor!” Frigga managed to stand up and run to Thor, who welcomed her embrace, but kept his eyes fixed on Loki.

Loki narrowed his eyes at Thor, not bothering to hide his disdain. “So you managed to make way back to Asgard.” After I did all the hard work, of course.

“Despite your efforts to keep me away!” Thor gripped his hammer and pointed it towards Loki, ready to blast once more.

Frigga looked at Loki, her eyes denoting alarm and confusion. “Loki?”

“Why don’t you tell mother how you sent the Destroyer to kill our friends? To kill me?” Thor pushed.

“It must have been enforcing Father’s last command,” he offered, forcing a mocking smirk.

“You're a talented liar, brother. Always have been.”

I am not your brother.

Loki could feel his blood boil, and laughed coldly. “This family is full of talented liars!!”

Thor, confused, looked at Frigga. The Queen was openly crying now, head down in shame.

I am a monster.

Destroy the monster.

Make your father proud.

Suddenly it was as though his mission was clear. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to destroy Jotunheim.”

.-

<< Chapter 20  –  Chapter 22 >>

.-

@nikkalia @xalgaliareptx  @christy-winchester @silverhart93 @honeybournehippy @unseelie1963 @manager-of-mischief @angryowlet @thelittlestlittlecutiepie @moonlightprime @velvetzybanshee 

[dentelle-grise]

Your Latest Trick - chapter 29

Summary: Long after everyone has stopped talking about Loki and his misdemeanors, his failed attempt to take over Midgard and his punishment, you meet him at a party. (Loki x Reader NSFW)

Chapter 29 - Loki sets out to impress and tries a little too hard.

First chapter here (can be read as a oneshot) All chapters to date at AO3 (71K, NC-17)

Tagging my rebloggers, commenters and other folk who asked. Please let me know if you want in (or out) of the list: @joanbushur, @frenchfrostpudding, @lovely-geek, @wolfsmom1, @sigridlaufeyson, @lokislonelylady, @monitoroutside, @daniissuchadani, @devilbat, @deadlydreamersecrets @helenisabel, @stardustandangelsfanfiction, @ely-seum, @wendyrobson1978, @the-ships-i-ship, @shemart101, @dreamourbrainout, @sadghostomg, @lokilover2000, @blobfishington, @lynneth1968-blog, @deaddecade, @nardo94, @tom-fucking-hiddleston-1981, @ashesandfire, @imagines-of-the-fandom​, @beingrandomisfun​, @tomsragnarok, @skulliebythesea, @bubbles8231999, @jesuisunthot, @all-of-teh-fandoms, @atreqhukea 

Chapter 29

You’re in this place again. The cottage. His place. And though Loki seems unusually bright and light hearted, you can barely hold back from bombarding him with questions.  

The weather is turning. It’s not a storm coming, but the true onset of winter this time. Looking at the darkening sky, you wonder how long he intends you to hide out here. You ask yourself whether you’d be prepared to live somewhere lost like this, give up everything else, if it meant being with him.

He’s hiding from Thor of course.  And you’re hiding from the rumour mill.

Well, one thing is sure. Out here, sooner or later, he’ll have to explain himself.

The boat is laden with parcels. They mostly contain food, but you get a surprise when what you took for a hamper, well covered by a blanket, turns out to be the casket from the throne room. Its colours are angry and agitated, moving faster than before, perhaps from the shaking they got on the ride.

“Whoah.” you say, taking a steps away from it. It doesn’t seem a reassuring thing to have brought on a trip away. But then this isn’t any regular romantic break, is it?

He shoos you away from it, handing you a box of apples instead, and takes the casket himself, lifting it up carefully, almost reverently, only holding it only though the blanket, without letting to touch his bare hands.

“Does your Dad know you’ve got that?”

“In point of fact. It’s mine.” He says, more to the box than to you.

“The Aether!?” Now, admittedly Odin is probably safer without it, but is Loki any better?  

“No, the casket.”

Whatever the reason is that he brought it, you’re not happy about having it in the cottage.

“But why bring it here?”

“Wait and see.” he teases, like you were an impatient child. This doesn’t reassure you.

Magic artefacts aside, Loki has certainly stocked the kitchen well enough, so much so that that the house looks even smaller.

You spend the waning day quietly. There’s just a single chair by the hearth, this is a place for one person after all, but you fit in it perfectly beside him. You are hardly touching, but it feels like an echoed afterglow of the frenzy of last night. If only it weren’t for what happened this afternoon. There’s a warmth between you but also a tension that hovers like an uninvited guest.You alternately  watch the growing dusk, the dancing flames and his face.

“Why deceive Heimdall?” you venture.

Without any sign of surprise or resistance to your question he looks you in the face and smiles.

“Because he’d only snitch on me to Thor.” he states simply. “As he so finely demonstrated.”

Why deceive Thor though? To ask that question would be to enter troubled waters indeed.

“But couldn’t you just have hidden us?”

“It’s not that simple. When so much of my attention and energy is otherwise engaged…” He gives you a knowing and appreciative look. “It’s far easier to wear a mask than to disappear. A simple illusion is all it takes, then a person’s imagination will do the rest. Even Heimdall’s.”

“So… he saw me and… Odin…” You shudder and pull a face, but Loki doesn’t react and when you look at him he’s got this wistful expression and you start to feel deeply annoyed that he’s missed the point. Ignored your discomfort.

But then he says, “I told father everything about us.”

You catch your breath. Finally.

Your joy bounces in your chest and you want to hug him, but you keep it squeezing his shoulder.

“And what did he say?”

There’s a silence.  Too long a silence. Loki takes a breath.

“Well nothing actually.”  

You feel a shiver of cold, despite the fire, and picture Odin at his worst. Is this why Loki whisked you away?

“He was asleep at the time.”

“Asleep?” You let your hand fall to your side. “Well why tell him if he couldn’t have heard you.”

“On the contrary, mother once told me he hears everything when he is asleep .”

Something is not right. What does Loki mean by ‘asleep’?  Could it be that Odin, overdoing it as you’ve seen is not just asleep but in ‘the sleep’.

“Why are we here even? And why did you bring that…‘thing’?”

“We need give things a chance to calm down.”

That you can see.

“And this,” he nods at the box glowing under its cover. “Well this I’ve got to show you.”

“It’s not going to bring Malekith here is it?”

He seems just as unruffled and amused.

“Not while he only has one arm and is on the run from his own countrymen, which I have on good authority.”

“But the Aether…”

“It makes the casket’s magic stronger.”  

You didn’t know anything about Loki possessing a magic casket before now.

“But what does it do?” The only magic casket you know of is the ancient one from Jotunheim and that’s hardly be Loki’s, but then neither is the Aether.  And with Odin ‘asleep’…

“It can make anything you want.” He says cheerfully.  The glow in the unlit kitchen is more rosy than blue at the moment. Loki reaches to touch the casket and you watch fascinated as he undoes the clasp on the lid. “But mostly it makes ice and snow.”

So it is the Jotunheim casket.

“Look.” He points out the window, away from the artefact in his hands. In front of the house there’s a small decked area, for mending nets and the like, but now you see there’s a terrace.  “Look” he prompts again and before your eyes columns grow at each corner and a roof, the across the beach and shore a there spreads a sheet of smooth shiny ice as flat as a frozen lake. What’s he doing? You go to turn. “Keep looking out there, you don’t want to miss this.” he warns. Arches, cloisters and stairs and doorways to great hallways grow, all apparently out of ice. You’ve never seen anything to dazzling or impressive, its as though Loki just created a whole new palace out of ice and magic.

“Not such a hovel now is it?”

You look over at him.  Loki is turned away, his face in darkness, but you can hear him gently panting, Such magic must take quite an effort. You politely ignore it. And look out at the new buildings that have sprung up. “It’s beautiful.” It’s not just incredibly built, but tastefully designed. You see the expanse of ice that has replaced the beach.  “I wish I had my…”

“By the door.” And there lie your ice skates. “Go on, try it.  I’ll be out in a minute.”

You step outside onto the terrace that wasn’t there before, then onto the transformed beach that lays beyond it like a vast mirror-smooth plaza reaching into the ocean.

Under your skates, its fabulously even. It’s been nearly a year since you skated but you remember instantly. You set off, alone on the ice like you’ve never been.  The ice is new and there’s no one to run into. You can go as fast as you like, turning curves and figures you never thought yourself capable of. You wonder if it's an illusion that he’s spun, purely in your head, because it’s incredible. You decide you don’t care.

The sea seems miles away, barely audible. Surrounding you is the crisp cold air of a winter’s day. When is he coming you wonder. The palace has grown so huge now that it dwarfs the island, the little house must be there somewhere among the ice buildings.  

And there he is, coming for you out of the night.  He’s already built up quite as when he catches up to you and sweeps you up and into the movement. You speed into the growing night together, dark before you, the moon above and the light of a fantastic city behind you.

You’re laughing, nearly screaming, from the exhilaration, the cold air drawing tears from your eyes and drying them just as fast.

He leads but you turn together, as though you had always been partners and knew where to go, when to move. You are so close that a single false move would send you into a high speed tumble, skates and all, but you have no fear. You are perfect together and you feel how simple it makes things to trust him.

You don’t want to break the spell with a single word. If he can do this, he can do anything. But finally, you circle to a halt and he lifts your hands together in his.  He kisses them warm, making you realise how cold they were, you hadn’t given it a thought.

His embrace is firm and his kisses are hot and welcome, but you’ve got to get moving again before you get too cold. As you make your way back, the house is a little warm light in the nestled among the cool graceful architecture of spires and arches, all sculpted from the frozen waves.  

At the foot of the great castle, you shed your skates.  He steps towards a grandiose doorway framed by a pair shining columns in the form of snakes. Then he looks over his shoulder a moment, gives you another look you know and he starts to run. You follow him into the palace, first great reception rooms, then though passageways and up stairways to balconies sparking in starlight. He is  showing off and you let him. This he can have when the rest of his life is in hiding. And you allow yourself to dream a little of a time when that will no longer be so.

You stare in wonder at a vaulted roof high above your head. An ice palace, like in the stories of Jotenheim. Did he have all of this stored up in his head waiting? Then you see Loki’s already at the very end of the hall and disappearing up a narrow spiral stairway. After him you go, racing up and bursting out on a roof garden.  It’s devoid of any plant life but breathtaking. Like everything here, it’s timelessly beautiful, though completely hard and cold. The ice isn’t like the stuff you know from winter. Underneath, it glistens blue or pink.

The roof, like most of the floors are powdered with snow, so you can keep up without slipping, and see Loki’s prints before you. They lead to a small suite of rooms at roof level, like private apartments, but with little in the way of furnishings. But Loki has gone from there already. Running down an outdoor stairway you think you see real snow coming in the air now and feel the wind rising, and then your slip though an archway into a darker chamber, less exposed but just as cold.

What will you do when you catch him? You would surely welcome one another’s heat, but there is nowhere here that is comfortable. You’ll get him back to the cottage, once you’ve got your hands on him.

Though you follow through a multitude of rooms, you notice you are no longer chasing but searching, the building seems to have a thousand rooms and staircases, avenues and hallways and all show his footprints, or yours.  It’s magnificent but somewhat eerie when you’re alone in it, this palace all cold and sparking under the moon.

He must be playing a game with you.  Hiding like this.  But really, it’s creepy, everywhere you meet ice mirrors or rooms with floors you can see through to the storeys below.

Perhaps he’s gone back to the cottage.

“Loki !” The name echos around you off the high ice walls, coming at you as though a handful of other women were wandering somewhere in these walls looking for him.

If only you could get back to the cottage under.  Though it must be close now, in the  complex of rooms leading one from the next, you can’t seem to get to it. Are you lost? You decide just to keep moving toward the exterior.  If you keep moving out and down you’ll be okay. Loki needs to understand that there’s a point when things cease to be funny. It’s as though the palace had continued to grow while were on your way downstairs. The stairway just leads to another passageway through the dark heart of this place.  You brush aside the feeling of panic and head for the glow of moonlight.

Finally you come out into a courtyard in a light flurry of snow. Real white snow falling from the sky. From the courtyard you are relieved to see the cottage again and although no light comes from its windows now but a cold purple glow, you head for it.

The interior silent and you sigh with relief at the warmth.  There’s nothing left of the fire and the only light is from the casket. And there’s Loki, finally, standing over it, a dark form against the glow.

“There you are!”  you cry.  But he doesn’t move or reply,

He’s bent slightly, a hand on the nearby wall where he must be channeling the energy.

“Loki?”

The figure turns. And though you can’t see much against the light you see straight away that it’s not Loki.

The scream is out of you before you even think it. The horror that fills you is worsened by the fact that you thought it was Loki. It’s not, it’s a monster.

 For Loki has summoned not just the ice powers of Jotenheim, but one of its creatures. Red eyes glow through the dark as you back away, screaming louder than you ever thought you were capable.

You yell at the monster to get back and run from the cottage. Outside in the snow you scream for Loki again. What has he done. Out here in the middle of nowhere. Then you hear the clumping step of the monster coming for you and you start to run.

TBC

[ajokeformur-ray]

Headcannons on an s/o who is obsessed with bugs and arachnids like tarantulas, beetles, moths, etc?? Bonus for owning a few and teaching him about them, misunderstood creatures 😔💚

I love this idea! I’ve seen a few hc’s centred around this already and I’ve read them and they’re so amazing skskkk I hope that this doesn’t come across as repetitive or copying or anything! ^^ I did my best to keep it as much my own as I could kskskk.

Anyone who fears, doesn’t like or has an aversion in general to the creatures listed above, please consider skipping this request.

Shout out to @justahyena for answering my questions + fuelling my curiosity and love of strange creatures about her own request lmao I hope it didn’t ruin anything for you, thank you so much for being so patient with me!! As a thank you, I made this personalised - names + species are all yours, plus I tried to put bits of you in there, too!

The first time Arthur went to your place, he was not expecting to see several vivariums, tanks and the like.

The first thing you did was let out a small noise saturated with love as you saw one of your tarantulas close to the glass. You always liked to think that they were coming up to say hello, especially when they followed your finger along the glass, crawling along the bottom of the tank slowly.

“Hello, baby!” You touched the glass gently, a reverent look on your face as you crouched down to get closer. “Hi!” Your voice was so soft, so sweet, that Arthur almost cried there and then.

He hovered in the doorway, nervous and unsure, his eyes darting all over the place as he just watched. Waited. He was scared? Confused? Unsure? Nervous? All of the above?

Oh, but he wanted to understand what you loved about them so much.

He wanted to know you. To know all of you.

“You can come in, Arthur. It’s okay.” His nervousness was coming off of him in waves and you walked over to him, locked your fingers together and walked back over to the tarantula you had just been cooing over.

“Is that… is that dangerous, Lilith?”

“No, Arthur,” You smiled gently, “She isn’t dangerous as long as you’re cautious and treat her with respect. Wanna meet her?”

You were going to handle her anyway, you always made sure to handle or spend time with every single one of your babies whenever you got the chance to do so; you couldn’t relax properly until you had, but you wanted Arthur to be okay with it all first. 

If he said yes, you’d spend time with your babies now.

If he said no, you’d wait until later, though you didn’t really want to. You hadn’t seen them all day and you were eager to spend time with your unusual but beautiful family!

“S-sure. Why not?” Arthur giggled nervously and you gave him a somewhat tense smile. You really hoped that he would grow to love them just as much as you did.

With fluid movements and practised ease did you get Salem out of her enclosure. “She’s a Brazilian black tarantula and she’s my biggest girl. I love her.” You pressed a small kiss to her bum, the lightest, happiest smile gracing your face as you simply looked at her.

All at once, Arthur loved every single creature that you owned. All of them. How could something be bad, or ugly, or anything negative, when the woman he loved could look at them like that?

He approached you, feeling braver, and you smiled at him, true joy on your face as you held your baby. 

“He-hello, Salem. My name’s Arthur.”

He stretched out a hesitant finger and just lightly stroked her, his teeth worrying his bottom lip. She moved and he jolted. “Did I - did it hurt her?”

“No,” Your voice was thick with love and pride as you looked between Salem and Arthur and back again. “She just moved.”

“She’s beautiful.” Arthur hummed. You barely repressed a squeal, just barely.

You pet her mandibles with a finger, and Arthur emitted a soft cooing noise as Salem’s two legs curled around the finger. 

He just watched as you spent time with her, cupping her in your two hands, before you put her away, your fingers and lips reverent as you kissed and pet her gently, slowly, so she wouldn’t flinch.

Though you introduced Arthur to every member of your family, you noticed that he kept going back to Salem, even after you’d put her away.

Arthur watched as you kissed eleven tarantula mandibles, kissed beetle shells, rubbed your nose against scorpion pinchers or beetle horns… you had so many pets that Arthur was blown away by the depth of the love in your heart.

He made sure to learn all of their names, all of their species… About halfway through all of them, he broke out his journal and started taking notes right there in the room with you, crude and rushed sketches accompanying the details he faithfully copied down.

Arthur felt connected to a lot of the creatures which you housed and loved like your own children; they were misunderstood, shunned, for looking ugly or for being ‘strange’, and he felt like he was like them. So he loved them for that alone, but then for you to clearly love him as you did so genuinely, and to gaze upon your babies with so much pride and love??? He was taken in immediately and right away did your home become his very favourite place.

He, too, was welcomed and understood, loved and known in your home and he never wanted to leave.

You took it upon yourself, and gladly so, happy to have someone who wanted to know about them, to teach Arthur all about them. How they were misunderstood, you debunked rumours which were designed to spread fear and corrected common misconceptions, and over time, and very quickly, Arthur grew to love them just as much as you did.

The Arthur Fleck/Joker Defense Squad @writings-of-a-gen-z                      @x-avantgarde-x       @insomniabird      @mavalenovaninagavi     @itwasrealenough     @morrisonmercurymalek     @rand0ms-fand0ms     @rafaelina-casillas     @aclownthing       @vivft                                          @help-i-am-obssessed      @autumnaffection       @taintednihilist   @vladtoly   @mg-woolf99      @misstgrey92   @dopey-fandom-girl         @seeking-dreamland      @sweetheart-syndrome      @heartxfdesire     @xmusichealsthesoulx       @0callmejude0      @the-one-that-likes-riddles        @hannibalsslut       @folliaght            @freeeshavacadoo         @bingewatchingmylifegoby       @unlovedbyeveryoneandeverything @okamiredfoxx       @sp0okysp0oky  @the-pandorabox      @mardema @jibanyyan        @honeyflvredcoughdrop         @emissarydecksetter @jokerfleckk         @epidendroideae         @chuuntas          @stillmabel       @pumpkinpeyes       @onehystericalqueenposts          @the-jokers-wolf       @nalsswa  @justahyena       @arianatheangelworld  @soullessblondbitch @gothamslittlejester  @twentyonestarrynights  @sirianfromsixties @kissmeclownman    @joker-is-my-hero  @lazyloosah  @lovesickkloxx @ladylovelyluna      @live-love-loki  @clownerybbxx   @tragicarthur    @anmach123      @rommie-chan      @arthurflock     @lucyboytom                  @immortal-bi-bitch    @hearthurfleck     @jokersproperty     @curlystark     @hailmary-yramliah    @sagyunaro     @playinthedarktillitsgoldenagain     @jokeringcutio      @xenthefox   @mijachula @stcrrynightsinneverlcnd      @cheyennejonas22    @mrjfleck      @pauli1100     @smitten-susie    @actualkey     @callmejokerfleck   @jaylovesbats    @itsforyoubitch      @ridiculousnerd     @killerprotector3579       @soulsdontbreaktheybeeend     @fantasticwinnerclodexpert                  @arthurs-sweater      @pinkie44pie    @tsukiakarinobara      @prettyxlittlexpsychoxprincess   @elodia-gahan   @yours-mia     @parkdonghoons      @lady-carnivals-stuff                         @hobi-hobi-kyo-kkyu      @jupiturde        @incognitofish      @j-sux      @nothing-but-a-comedy      @tahliamalfoydepp     @sgtsavoytruffle         @smol-nari       @pocket-clown     @joker-flecked-me      @millandram     @obsessedandthirsty   @holosexualunicorn7000    @anyatheladyclown   @imightaswellnotexistatall      @elusive-ivory    @funneeeh    @jokerhoe    @carnivalou      @floralhijabix         @sonrisa-yk     @livingmydreamsquietly    @marymadly     @that199xgrrrl      @mr–clown  

[the--sad--hatter]

Phantom Pain (15)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU

PAIRING - Bucky X Reader 

WARNINGS - Bad Habits and Rough Sex, Angsty and Dark AF. 

DESCRIPTION -  Everybody in the world knew of you, but not who you really were. Some called you a vigilante, some called you a criminal and some called you a hero but all of them called you The Phantom. Only two people knew your real identity and they swore to never tell anyone but when The Avengers need to infiltrate a high-security facility, Bruce Banner deduces that you’re the only one who can pull it off. That decision puts you and Bucky Barnes on a path you can’t turn back from, even if neither of like where it’s leading.

Series Masterlist

Chapter Fifteen - The Betting War 

“I bet you can’t piss Bruce off WITHOUT triggering The Hulk.”Tony challenged when he won the coin toss.

“Bruce, Tony dared me to phase through the Shield and I broke my arm!” You screamed loudly.

“WHAT?”

“Oh no, I see a hint of green. Run!”

You and Tony scampered as quickly as you could.

“I bet you can’t get Cap to swear.” You said while you hid in an abandoned meeting room.

“Oh please.” Tony said, strolling out of the room.

You invisibly followed him as he walked up to Cap.

“Cap, I bet princess she couldn’t get you to swear so watch your language.” Tony lied, twisting the truth on it’s head.

“Fuck off Tony.” Steve said without hesitating.

“I knew you’d take her side you gullible old man.”

“Damnit Steve!” You said, reappearing and making the Captain jump.  

Tony clapped his hands loudly in excitement.

“I bet you won’t take the Falcons Wings out for a spin.” He shouted.

“No, bad idea.” Steve said.

“If I don’t, I lose.” You retorted.

“I’ll steal them for you.” Steve said immediately.

Ten minutes later when you crashed through a window you were too proud of yourself to care. Much.

“I bet you won’t help me stop the bleeding.” You groaned, holding up your bleeding elbow.

Tony grimaced as he picked you up and carried you back to the lab.

Halfway through being stitched up, Sam stormed into the lab.

“What the hell? You can’t just steal a mans wings, not cool! I hope that hurts. Actually that does look like it hurts, are you ok?” He said, his anger giving way to genuine concern.

“Tony made me do it.” You pouted, giving Sam your best puppy dog eyes.

“Don’t blame me for the fact you don’t have a backbone. Though you do have an elbow bone, I can see it.” Tony said, retching a bit.

“Puppy dog eyes don’t work on me. I’m immune after being exposed to Cap’s.” Sam informed you.

You added a deep frown to your expression and looked down in shame.

“I’m sorry Sam, I won’t do it again.”

“It’s ok, it was Tony’s idea. If you want to try flying I’ll take you next time.” Sam said, patting you on the shoulder.

Tony snorted and shook his head.

“Ok Princess, you’re all stitched up. I bet you won’t sneak up on Romanoff.” He said and Sam looked afraid for you.

“Damn you Snark. Damn you to hell.” You snapped, getting up and storming away.

“I’ll keep the first aid kit ready.” Tony shouted after you gleefully.

He said you had to sneak up on Natasha, he didn’t say you had to be successful. You went invisible and stomped your way down the hall loudly.

“Will you stop doing that.” Bucky snapped from inside a room as you passed.

“Doing what?” You asked innocently.

“Using your powers for mundane things. It’s hurting you so why are you doing it?” He said, sounding annoyed and walking towards you, reaching out with the Vibranium arm to grab at your invisible arm.

“Ow!” You hissed and dropped the invisibility.

“What happened to your arm?” He asked with narrowed eyes.

“I flew through a window?”

“You’re a fucking idiot.” He snapped and you recoiled in shock.

“Beg your pardon.” You asked.

“I haven’t even known you for a week and I’ve spent most of it worried about you, can you make it a little easier on me and stop putting yourself in unnecessary danger?” He asked, pulling back the bandage to check the stitches.

“I didn’t ask you to worry about me and your feeling aren’t my responsibility. I don’t have to change who I am just because you walked into my life and asked me to.” You told him, yanking your arm out of his grip.

His expression softened and he looked guilty.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I don’t want to change you, I happen to like you the way you are. I’m just sick of seeing you in pain.” He said softly.

“Then stop watching.” You snapped, going invisible again and leaving before he could stop you.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Why are you not hurt? Did you fail?” Tony asked when you walked back into the lab and threw yourself onto a chair.

“Friday my love?” You said.

“She succeeded.” Friday informed him.

“Again, how are you not hurt?”Tony asked in disbelief.

“I may have made a deal with the devil.” You hinted.

“Why do I feel like that deal is going to bite me on the ass?” Tony asked.

“Because you are a genius?” You said, grinning evilly at him.

“Alright princess, your turn.”

“Time to end this Snark. I bet you... won’t open up emotionally to one of your team members other than Bruce.” You said dramatically and Tony gaped at you.  

“Oh that’s cold.” He said.

“You’ve got an hour.” You told him, confident you were about to win.

“Hey princess, you’ve been on missions. That makes you a defacto member of the team.”

“Really? Me? You’re going to open up to me?” You laughed.

“You’re basically a younger, less intelligent, less attractive version of me.” He said.

“Great start.” You scoffed.

“And you’re braver and better than I ever was. You were a superhero long before you stepped into that radiation chamber kid and you and Parker are two of the best people I know. I lie awake at night hoping I don’t let either of you down. I made a mistake with the Accords, I thought we needed accountability but I was projecting my own fears onto the team. When we fix my mistake, I want you to join the Avengers.” He said.

You didn’t know how to respond or what to say and just stared at him. He waved a hand in front of your face.

“Ok, want me to pour you a drink and we can forget this moment ever happened?” He asked.

“Oh God yes.” You said in a rush.

He chuckled and wandered off to pull a bottle of scotch and two glasses from a desk drawer and poured it, handing a glass to you.

“Tony, if you ever repeat this to anyone I’ll phase your intestines out of your body and strangle you with them. I know people joke that I’m a young, millennial Tony Stark but the truth is I kinda wanna be you when I grow up.” You admitted, throwing back the scotch with a grimace.

“Well, just to tank you for that glowing endorsement, I’m going to do you a huge favour. I bet you won’t make out with someone in this building, in front of Barnes.” he said, smirking at you.

“What the hell Snark?!”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You had raged, you had freaked out, you had paced and now you only had six minutes left to kiss somebody in front of Bucky. Bucky, who was currently watching a movie with Sam, Steve, Loki, Thor, Wanda and Vision while Frank reclined on his lap.  

You took a deep breath and walked into the room, waving at everyone who looked over at you. Wanda smiled brightly and patted the seat next to her and you shook your head minutely. You could feel Bucky’s eyes on you but you couldn’t meet them.

You had chosen Loki, figuring he was your best option. He was the God of Mischief after all. You wandered over and sat on the arm of the chair he was sitting in. He didn’t seem to mind and shifted his body to give you more room.

“I need something from you.” You whispered and he looked down at you with interest.

“Go on...” He said lowly, his voice dripping with intrigue.

Your breathing was shallow and rapid, your palms were sweating and your heart was hammering in your chest.

“I need you to...” You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to get the words out.

“To what?” He asked, smirking at you.

You fidgeted in your seat and wiped your clammy hands on your knees. You made the mistake of looking at Bucky, of meeting his concerned gaze and something snapped into place in your mind.

“Loki knows, he will play along.” Wanda said inside your mind.

You took a deep breath and relaxed your shoulders, turning to Loki with a confident smile.

“I need you to stop teasing me with all your flirting and just kiss me already.”You announced.

“With pleasure.”

The pale god leaned down and captured your lips with his, and even though you were kissing a literal god and a devastatingly handsome one at that, all you could feel was guilt as you heard Frank’s howl of displeasure as Bucky stood up and stormed away. Loki pulled away from you with a smirk.

“I believe you have won the bet, now run along little princess, before you lose something more important.” He said.

You didn’t hesitate to take his advice and ran after Bucky.

“Bucky wait.” You called as you followed him down the corridor.

“How many of The Avengers are you planning on making your way through?” Bucky snarled at you, turning around so quickly he nearly knocked you over.

“I’m not. That’s not what that was. I had to kiss him, it was part of the bet.” You insisted.

“The bet? Your bet with Stark meant so much to you that you were willing to...”

“To what? It was only a kiss, you were one who said a kiss wasn’t that big a deal.” You snapped.

“That doesn’t mean you’re allowed to kiss anyone else.” Bucky snapped.

“Allowed? This might surprise you Barnes, but you don’t own me.”

Bucky’s metal arm closed around your throat and you found yourself pressed against the wall, squeaking in surprise.

“But I do want to own you Domniţă, I have since we met. You crawled under my skin and I can’t get you out and even if your mind rebels against it, you know you feel the same way. You are mine and I am yours.” He growled.

You body was limp in his hold even though he wasn’t actually putting any pressure on your throat.

“Tell me to let go and I will, I’ll release you and walk away. But if you don’t, it means you accept that you’re mine now.” He said.

Two choices, push him away or pull him closer. Your whole body was thrumming with anticipation and your blood was thundering through your veins as you realised this felt right. As terrifying as it was to be held in place by him, no matter how angry he was you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. All you had to do was make one little choice and he would take care of the rest.

You must have taken to long to answer because his eyes suddenly filled with regret and shame and he abruptly released you.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, backing away and holding his arms out at his side.

He was about to leave and that snapped you out of your daze and you made the choice.

“Kiss me.”

His eyes widened for a brief second and then your back hit the wall again and his body was pressed so tightly against you that were pinned in place as his fingers tangled in your hair. His lips crashed into yours and he wasn’t just kissing you, he was devouring you. He was claiming you and without a shred of doubt, you submitted.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I’m just going to leave this here and run away.... 

You can ask to be added to or removed from tags at any time folks, just comment or inbox :D @drdorkus @gravedollie666 @sadsoldat @bigplantdaddy @moodyruth @likes-to-smell-books @shirukitsune @inquisitor-selvala  @myfandomlife-blog @markusstraya @adeleoctobre @vajeenparty @sexyvixen7  @love-nakamura  @buckitybarnes @littledeadrottinghood @pinkisokay @jsmith509 @brownlee-22 @angieptt  @thosesexytexasboys @liveonce-sodoitright @tarastudiesalot @spnrvt @dahkness @dilaila95 @rororo06 @mizzzpink @release-the-cathyrchkn @thefridgeismybestie  @fairislesheets @strangersstranger @life-wanderer @uuuuuuuuggggghhh @curiositykilledthepepe @musingpredilection  @boxofteenageideas @thelostallycat @demonlover87 @cutie1365 @mcuthemusical @caroldanvers616 @chipilerendi @mywinterwolf

[todokori-kun]

(Ugh, sorry for this late reply! OTL I’ve been busy and whenever I sat down to try and write this message it would be bedtime before I’d even gotten halfway through)

If we want him to be happy the best, most plausible and canon-compliant choice is Saiko…yet Ishida’s been ignoring her ever since she told Urie she loves him ;-; #IshidaY

Correction: Ishida (like Shuu and Uta) is a picky eater. He’ll only eat human flesh that’s been steadily stewing in misery for at least a year, and the bitterest, saltiest tears are all he ever drinks.

Ishida’s eating habits being similar to Uta’s makes sense though, since he actually said he gave Uta some of his hobbies lol

Just stop hurting us, please…Ishida needs to redeem himself with Hide’s return as quickly as possible. Either that or something bad needs to happen to Furuta (if Rize somehow breaks free and eats him I’m sure at least half of the fandom would realize that they can, in fact, be satisfied).

Hmm, I was fine with Re up until this arc. Touken feels forced, shippy fluff and Mutsuki drama is getting in the way of the ACTUAL plot (even with all his trolling skills, Ishida cannot convince me that sex scenes and love triangles/squares are more important than how the Q squad is dealing with their trauma from the last battle, what Juuzou, Urie and other investigators are going to do now that they suspect Furuta is lying, how the rest of Goat is doing, what Uta and the Clowns are up to, and Furuta finding a way to, oh, I don’t know, BRING BACK THE FREAKING DEAD). It’s like Ishida has a really interesting plot in there somewhere, but he’s buried it beneath the pointless, badly timed romance.

As for Mutsuki, I used to be a bit 'meh' about them (I used to like them, and then I didn’t mind their backstory/the treatment they got at Torso’s hands simply because I got spoiled and knew it was coming from the very beginning, plus the parellels with Kaneki had me thinking they’d get a similar interesting development) but I’m starting to become more and more indifferent towards them because they just feel really flat now- a basic murder-bot, a copy of characters like Yuno Gasai. Maybe I’d sympathize with them more if their love for Sasaki/Kaneki felt a bit more genuine, but as it is, it seems lacking. It feels like we’re viewing Mutsuki from an outsider’s POV; not much about their actual feelings or thought process about the entire situation, just a bunch of crazy, yandere moments with a few

That AU…make it canon, Ishida. (jk, but seriously). I’m one of those people who won’t complain no matter how much the creators pile on the angst as long as it’s plausible angst (I’m afraid I’m a bit of a masochist when it comes to fandoms…) but I like to think of my favorite characters being happy for once ;-;

 0/////0 TYSM ;-; You’re so supportive and sweet and just asdfj;lk (it’s not easy to reduce me to keyboard-smashing but I have a lot of feelings right now) <333 I’m still scared because there are two ways this could go (either I somehow get over my fear and do ok, which would probably be really good for the anxiety, or I just freeze the second I step onto the stage…which would probably make things worse) HOWEVER, for Queen Luna I shall do my best !!!! <33333 :D

But wait a sec…‘King’…

Plot Twist: I am the real One-eyed King

Also

‘Urie & Tumblr(Evans): A short story’

-Urie pretends not know what tumblr is

-Only he totally does

-It’s an addictive hole of darkness

-And Luna spends way too much time on it for his liking

-Ok, so it’s not tumblr he’s worried about, really

-It’s this guy called Evans that Luna keeps talking to

-And no, he did not just assume this person’s gender, he (ACCIDENTALLY) saw one of Luna’s messages to them calling them a ‘king’

-She never calls HIM stuff like that there’s only that stupid nickname ‘Oreo Cookie’

-Jealousy?

-N O

-That’s for the common folk like Sasaki

-Look, he’s just worried about his s/o ok

-Then one day he brings it up

-'The 'King’ thing was an inside joke of sorts’

-'Evans is a heterosexual female’

-R.I.P Urie, who must now admit that he was indeed jealous

(super awkward crack that suddenly popped into my head

And aww, I’m really so glad you enjoy the HCs ^^)

Me + a person with Shuu’s personality would be pretty hilarious if we managed to get along well. Since at first sight, I appear like this really quite and polite person who’s way too nice for their own good (sort of like an even more introverted and awkward version of Kuroneki), but with people I’m really close with I suddenly turn into Haise with all of his cringe-worthy moments- plus a little bit of dry humor and sarcasm.

Haven’t got the chance to listen to all of those yet but what little I’ve heard sounds lovely! The first three and Soldier Game are my favorites, I think :)

Give it a few weeks and I’ll probably be joining you in Idol hell…

Loki’s hair is actually as long/maybe longer than Thor’s in later movies tho XD but I’m glad Thor’s getting some love! A lot of fans just characterize him as this big blonde idiot who has no clue what he’s doing, when in fact he’s grown quite a bit since the first Thor movie, where he was a reckless, hot-blooded, proud and arrogant person who really did have no clue what he was doing…sort of like musical-verse Hamilton minus his book smart nature and power of speech (isn’t that a terrifying thought?). Never knowing when to shut up and back down, which is coincidentally one of the things that damaged his relationship with Loki- who is his opposite in almost everything.

Without spoiling too much, let’s just say:

Thor is the extrovert, Loki is the introvert. Thor relies mostly on his raw physical power to get the job done (though he’s much more diplomatic now than he was in his first movie), Loki’s power lies in his words (he IS the god of lies after all) and his cunning. Thor can sometimes be a bit thick about the emotions of those around him, Loki reads people like open books and manipulates them like puppets on a string. No matter how much Thor grows up he’ll still have a bit of his old hot-tempered, non-stop personality, while Loki usually prefers to wait for it until he’s sure of the situation.

Unfortunately, Asgard (Thor and Loki’s 'home’- though Loki doesn’t consider Asgard his home anymore) values courageous warriors over quiet scholars and sorcerers like Loki. They praise honesty and boldness; Loki’s lies and illusions make them uneasy and they see him as a coward.

Despite being a prince, Loki has spent almost his whole life being identified as simply 'Thor’s brother’. People tolerate him because he’s a prince and Thor’s Brother, 'friends’ hang out with him because he’s Thor’s Brother, few openly show that they dislike him becuase he’s Thor’s Brother. Heck, when he lands on earth during the first Avengers movie, humans immediately identify him as none other than Thor’s Brother. He’s spent his entire life in Thor’s shadow.

It’s a very Burr-Hamilton relationship, and you can’t really blame Loki for wanting to be in the room where it happens.

(Also, the daddy issues.

I mean, look at what Odin and Laufey did

(SPOILERS for first Thor movie)

What Laufey (king of the frost giants) did:

1: Abandoned Loki because he was a 'runt’

2: Didn’t just abandon him; left him outside in the freezing cold in the middle of a freaking battlefield

What Odin did:

1: He rescued Loki when Laufey abandoned him because he felt sorry for the child…and also because he was planning use him as a pawn to someday make peace with the frost giants.

2: was planning to never, ever have a decent, reasonable 'you’re adopted, but you’re just as much my child as Thor is’ conversation with Loki

3: 'Yes, frost giants are terrible, bloodthirsty creatures, they are completely irredeemable’

4: some years later- 'Am I…? 'Yes, you are also a frost giant’

5: it’s heavily implied that he, like most others, always paid more attention to Thor than Loki

6: 'FATHER! I could have done it! For you…!’ 'No, Loki.’ *lets his adoptive son FALL INTO AN ABYSS IN SPACE. Like, he literally just stands there, watching Loki let go and fall to his death (well, not actually death, but that’s what it looks like)*

6: 'Both of you were born to be kings’

Later: 'All this because Loki desires a throne…YOUR BIRTHRIGHT WAS TO DIE! As a child, cast out on a frozen rock. If I had not taken you in, perhaps you would not be here now to hate me.’

I don’t hate Odin as much as the rest of the fandom seems to, and I do think he had reasons for doing what he did, but the fact still stands that he can be a massive hypocrite (tells Loki that he can’t try to take over the earth because they are no different from humans in the end, then tells Thor he shouldn’t date a human woman and calls her a 'goat’) and the things he did to Loki were just cruel.

Also, Thor, though he never wanted to hurt Loki, didn’t help. From what little we got to see in the Thor movies, it seems he also thought Loki was a bit weird for his quiet nature and interest in books and magic, usually refused to listen to anything he had to say, and just took his presence for granted most of the time so that he never realized how much Loki mattered to him until he lost him.)

Ok, so I’m trying to start the fic and I’m narrowing it down to Urie, Ken, and Shuu. I mean, the obvious choice is Urie since it seems like he’s one of your faves, but Heathers is a bit of a…graphic…story and while I’ve thrown in a bit of extra fluff IT WILL NOT BE A HAPPY FIC. So. Maybe you don’t want to see your favorite character hurt that way…

Also, because it’s HEATHERS, the story that’s set in a normal high school with absolutely no sci-fi or fantasy yet manages to be almost as dark as Black Butler, I guess I should put some warnings…

Slight yandere-ish behavior, murder, bullying, very vague mentions of self-harm and suicide (nobody actually does it or did it though), implied child abuse, sort-of-smut(scene cuts off right before anything smutty actually happens), and a ton of angst

(hint: it’s probably angstier than that thing I wrote about Viktor in a TG AU)

Is this ok with you?

Last note: Heathers and DEH both have a lot of dialogue to fill up the spaces between songs so you might want to either read the plots on wikipedia or talk with me every one or two songs so I can help explain what’s going on ^^

No worries ^^ I was a bit worried though, since I though you interpreted my ‘no new fandoms until the weekend!’ as ‘no messages until the weekend’

About the new chapter (127), has there been another time skip? Also, Shuu’s back! I’m sure you’re happy to see your hubby again (･ω<)☆ And I’m so proud of Naki ;-; My boy’s finally speaking properly.

#bringSaikoback  #becauseHe’sEvilThat’sY

Wait, she confessed her love? Man, I’ve forgotten a lot of things…

Yeah, that seems about right… What a gourmet.

Mask making, then? or eating eyeballs, that also wouldn’t be so weird. 

I want Hide to come back to life and become the next Jesus or something, saving absolutely everyone, because why not? I mean, he’s Hide after all.  Rize eating Furuta would be enough to get me to read the manga again (I already am, tho, at least somewhat. It’s your fault)

Maybe Ishida’s trying to redeem himself by giving us all the lovey-dovey stuff? It’s a shitty redemption attempt, but still…  and bringing back the dead certainly is an interesting way to advance the plot. hopefully it turns out to be a good one as well. hopefully.

i understand how/why mutsuki would fall for sasaki, but it was done in a very bad time and generally doesn’t fit with anything. id be a lot happier if they went murder crazy, but without the whole sasaki obsession. just let the guy be happy for fucks sake

You’re definitely a masochist. I mean, anyone who reads TGRe is (does that make me one as well…?). The AU is my pride and joy, the best idea I’ve ever had. I mean, just imagine it. Everyone being happy and enjoying life without suffering.

I’m sure you’ll do just fine ^^ I may not have anxiety but I do know the feeling of stage-fright. I mean, just a few weeks ago, I was at the japanese speaking contest and I still remember how badly I was shaking before, during and after my speech. I was so afraid I’d mess up… and I did! I did not understand any of the questions they asked me. Only later did I realise what they were trying to say, but in the moment, I was too scared to comprehend basically anything.  However, I got through it, no matter how scared I was. So I’m sure you’ll do just as well, if not better!

All hail King Evans, the One Eyed King! Now go stop the fighting between ghouls and humans, please.

Yeah, Evans is a bit of a boyish name. My first association with it before I met you was Soul Evans, from Soul Eater, a guy.  It’s also part of the reason why I was really afraid to write anything that might delude your gender, since lots of people get mad when people assume. 

Jealous Urie would be one of the most hilarious things ever. He’s to awkward to admit it, which means he also doesn’t do anything about it. How fun.

But you still haven’t answered my question… Who would you pick to be your significant other from the other fandoms we share, like Kuroshitsuji, AoT or YoI? Or even the Avengers universe ;)  You’re not avoiding it!

Honestly, Shuu is one of those people who get along with basically everyone, so I’m sure you’d get along with him. Besides, he’s empathetic, so he’d give everyone a chance to open up.

IDOL HELL! Join us... 

Oh really? Well, I was planning on watching the first Avengers movie and the Thor movies today and tomorrow (and maybe during the next week), so I’ll definitely tell you my opinion, then ^^ But Thor has short hair in the new movie. I am definitely not satisfied =3=

The whole family has some huge issues, doesn’t it? (thor’s family)

I say Kaneki, because it’s not a happy fic and out of the three, I like him the least. 

Sure, I’m fine with basically everything at this point. TG has ruined me in the darkness of itself (i don’t know what im typing anymore, don’t question me, please)

Okay, I’ll make sure to ask you about anything I don’t understand when I start listening to it ^^