#loki was STILL full of rage and looking for purpose

[musclesandhammering]

Oooh this is so interesting.

You’re one of the few people I’ve seen who also thinks that Thanos’s… mistreatment, let’s say- of Loki was more subtle. And I think Loki had a tad bit more agency than just being kidnapped and used as a slave.

I always describe it as Loki going in kahoots with the scariest mafia boss in the galaxy (Thanos ofc). Like he chose to “ally” with him and he willingly went along with his plan, but he was terrified of him all the while.

And if you add this layer- that Loki actually came to see Thanos as a father figure at a time in his life when he desperately needed one- then this scenario makes even more sense.

Like he was hurt and lost and pissed so he started up this unequal partnership with Thanos, and even though he got put through hell in his time working with him, he never tried to break their partnership because- along with having his pain and lostness and anger heightened by the mind stone- he also was loyal to Thanos and looked up to him in this really twisted way. I just-

Wow. Emotions.

Loki attacking earth like his frost giant ancestors before him (I wonder if thanos knew he was a frost giant btw)

Loki really went "if you won't accept me as an Asgardian, I'll be as obnoxiously Jotun as I can" and I respect him for it.

Alternatively, one could say that in his quest to destroy that part of his identity, he solidified it, but that's slightly less great 😬

I definitely think that Thanos knew he was a Frost Giant. I don't know if there's anything to really back it up in canon or if it's just my headcanons getting the best of me, but I get the feeling Thanos knows a lot about Loki and his life and his grievances. I feel like The Avengers worked out too well for it to have all been a coincidence. In his grief and his anger and his confusion, it makes perfect sense for Loki to have latched onto that desire for a throne and that need to get back at Thor by taking over his beloved Earth, and the fact that Thanos chose Loki specifically for this task makes me think that he knew that. I know it's the common theme among Loki stans to say that Thanos did nothing but torture him and was a monster through and through, but I like to think that Thanos's manipulation was more subtle than that, and that while the Mind Stone was leeching away at what little sanity he had left, Loki almost trusted him. Because he was so desperate for a father figure and we know Thanos likes to play The Dad™ to orphans (usually after making them orphans but maybe he makes exceptions for people who latch onto him like lost kittens) and I think Loki absolutely would have confided in him because he thought he'd finally found someone who cares. And I don't think he realized until it was all over and he was free from the Mind Stone's hold on him that it was a bad idea, and by that point, there was nothing he could do but watch the world burn.

[muddyorbsblr]

the final Lady Sharpe part 2: a risky endeavor

Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: @ellooo0ooo

Summary: Thomas tells you about Lucille's intent as well as his own; you formulate a plan that could definitely get you killed if anything goes wrong

Pairing: Thomas Sharpe x Reader

Word Count: 4.6k [maybe have some tea ready…just for the love of Loki don't use firethorn berries 🫡]

Warnings: Lucille; talks about Lucille's relationship with Thomas; angst; ghosts

Things to be aware of: Reader & Thomas are married

"Was it yours? Or your sister's?"

Thomas continued to look at you, water still running over his fingers, eyes wide and blinking repeatedly as if trying to reorient himself onto what was happening, mouth moving as if to form words, but only fragments of sound were coming out. "I'm--Uhm--Darling, I'm confused--"

"What part of the question confuses you?" You did your best to keep your simmering rage at bay. "It's a simple enough query. Who wanted to poison me? My husband, or my sister in law that seems to have an inappropriate level of affection towards my husband?"

Your throat chose that precise moment to go dry and cause you to let out a dry cough, a rather rude reminder from your body doling out the consequences of your self-preservation kicking in. The sound seemed to have snapped him out of his momentary trance, turning the tap off and tilting the glass slightly to let the excess water out before holding it out to you.

"Y/N, please drink first and then we may talk about--"

"You drink it first," you hissed, speaking in more hushed tones just in case Lucille was outside your bedroom door, ear pressed to the wood and straining to hear your conversation. "I mean if you tried with the tea, then who's to say you're not trying right now with the water?"

A strangled sound escaped him before he sighed, taking a gulp of the drink before handing it over to you. "There. Now please. Drink and let me explain." Once you'd taken the glass from his hand and began to drink, doing your best not to show the relief you felt now that the inside of your throat no longer felt like the sanding paper you had in your luggage, he turned to start the water running for the bathtub.

"No," you snapped, reaching into your pocket and wrapping your fingers around the handle of the blade you had concealed there. "If you think that after trying to kill me that I'm still going to share a bath with you, Thomas Sharpe, you have another thing--"

"Darling, I beg of you, please just let me talk," he cut you off, holding his hands up as if in surrender as he walked toward you. When he got close enough that you were within his arm's reach, you took the blade out, pointing the tip toward his throat, stopping him in his tracks, , the crease between his brows deepening. "When you were cold on the carriage ride home you told me you had no pockets."

"No, I said they served a different purpose. Now you know what that purpose is." You made a slight flourish with the blade before pointing it toward him again. "Talk. Why did you try to poison me?"

"It wasn't me!" he snapped, the muscles in his neck twitching in visible frustration over even saying the words. "It was all Lucille, I swear to you." He tried reaching for your hands, making you tighten your grip on your blade.

"Why does she want to kill me then?"

"Money," he said simply. "If you could please just put the blade away, I will answer any question you might have." He held his hand out to you, as if asking for you to take it, and once you sheathed your little sai sword back in your pocket you placed your hand in his, letting him lead you to sit at the edge of the tub.

"All you told me was 'money'," you stated, jerking your hand out of his hold when he started stroking the back of it with his thumb. "You're a baronet, you told me when you were courting me back in the city that you were slowly seeing a turn in your fortune because your machine was finally complete--Oh my God. Have you two killed other women before? Is that the play? You marry them, lure them here, poison them slowly with tiny doses of cyanide through the firethorn berries so that by the time their money's co-mingled with yours they'll be days away from death? That's why the voices--"

"Y/N, darling, please. I told you it was the East Wind."

"Last I checked, Thomas? The East Wind's name is Eurus. Not Edith." His features settled into an expression of genuine surprise, his jaw going slack and eyes slowly growing wide at the mention of the name. "And not Enola. Now try again. The truth this time, preferably. Who are these people? Did they die here? Were they your wives? Did Lucille kill them? Is their money the reason that machine is complete and running?"

"They were my wives," he sighed. "And you're right. About everything except the cyanide. There's nothing in the berries, they simply cause an upset stomach and worsen if they keep being taken over long periods of time--"

"Because of the trace amounts of cyanide in the berries. Seven hells, I was about to be killed by people who didn't even know what they were killing me with." How could you have been so unfortunate that out of all the ways you could have died in the last few years, this was the closest someone had come to succeeding and the perpetrators were so ridiculously clueless? "So why take another wife? Your machine's complete, you're about to start breaking even and start selling the liquid clay, so why not just sit back and--"

"She wants more," he spoke through gritted teeth. "More money, more machines, faster production. She wants to restore the mines and the Sharpe name to its former glory, live a more lavish life she believes she's owed."

"You don't seem too excited to get back to living the lifestyle of the rich and privileged," you commented snidely, your lip upturned to the side in poorly hidden derision. "And yet for some reason I'm still here, married to you, and she has every intention of seeing me dead. So now my next question…why the act? Why pretend you're all remorseful--"

"I'm not pretending," he cut you off, looking up again, frantic eyes meeting your own. "I chose to court you because you struck me as someone intelligent and of enough money that Lucille won't question my decision. I don't wish to do this anymore. Luring people to their deaths all in the name of what? Money? Status? Her ambitions have grown darker and darker throughout our lives. I don't believe there are lines she's unwilling to cross, and I cannot stand idly by and let her anymore."

"Big words coming from the man that lays with this woman with dark ambitions," you sneered, puzzled to find that all he did in response was exhibit more surprise. "Tell me I'm wrong. Tell me that I didn't see her holding you as if you were lovers reunited after spending months apart when we walked through those doors. Tell me that when she walked in here and she saw the state of our clothes and my hair down that her stomach didn't drop. Tell me that later tonight she won't call on you to lay with her."

"Her love was all I knew for a long time, Y/N." His words were barely audible through the sound of the running water. "And what I have done, what I have been made to do, what I have believed was the only way to love and be loved…it shames me. And one day I will burn for the atrocities that I've done. With her. For her. All I want now is for it to stop, and perhaps do what I can with the time I have left to right some of my wrongs." He reached for your hands again, letting out a long exhale as if he'd felt unburdened somehow when you didn't pull away and allowed him the simple touch. "I chose to court you because perhaps together we could think of a way to start righting these wrongs."

"Thomas…" you spoke his name slowly, trying so hard to look for any signs of the man with the practiced words from earlier. The one who tried to convince you that the ghosts in the house were simply the wind. Hell, the one back in the city that charmed you and courted you and put you through a love story so unbelievable you could have sworn they only existed in fairytales.

You couldn't find him. All you saw now was someone that had done and witnessed such horrors, quite probably in this very house, perhaps even in this very room, and all he wanted to do was begin to make amends for it.

"The only way for you to even start making things right is to help put her away. Turn her in to the police and…let the authorities decide what to do from there. And there are things we would need to make sure that wherever they'd take her she stays there. But before we even go down that route, I have to know how far you're willing to go to see this done."

"What would you need to make sure? I can guide you through the house, find whatever it is you might need and--"

"Not quite what I meant, but we can go back to that later…What I meant is that doing this could have consequences in store for you. It's your name on the marriage certificates. One look at where the money went after your ex wives passed would show that you were the one that stood to benefit the most from their deaths. A clever enough detective could even spin the story that you were the mastermind behind all this, and Lucille was simply your executioner. Setting this into motion would send her to jail, yes. But it might do the same for you. Are you ready to face that reality?"

There was an evident remorse in his eyes; you assumed he thought about the direction his life would take if he chose to go ahead with this plan as unshed tears began to shine in his eyes. "If that's what it would take so that no one else would suffer by her hand, then so be it. I would be more than deserving."

Something in you felt for him, a dull pain in your heart making its presence felt as you saw before you someone who had simply had enough of the damage he'd dealt to the people that entered his life. In him you saw the people you'd helped find closure over the last few years, finally giving them the answers to the questions that haunted him day in and day out, that preoccupied their every thought.

And it was in that vague familiarity that laid the reason behind your decision. "I'll help you," you said softly, reaching over to turn the faucet off. "Give me a few hours to think of a plan, and see if these voices that are most definitely not the wind will be willing to help me. Though I surmise that even on the chance they don't want to help their ex husband, they might just want to help in putting their murderer behind bars."

"Of course we will," the guiding voice whispered into your ear. "I know where she keeps all the documents for the marriages, the deaths, the money transfers. I can guide you through the manor at night but we have to be careful. She might hear us. There's a phonograph that I was able to hide in Thomas' workshop. The cylinders are hidden behind a portrait. I can guide you to them, too."

You gave a slight nod to acknowledge the voice, standing up and walking out of the bathroom, making your way to your luggage. "Does Lucille know what an allergic reaction looks like?" You made sure to talk in more hushed tones, just in case Lucille really was as unhinged as you imagined she was and had her ear pressed to the crack between the doors to your bedroom.

Thomas walked up behind you, crouching next to you and looking over the items in your luggage, brows furrowing once more when he saw the fine grain sanding paper you held in your slightly trembling hands. "I don't recall her ever having seen one, but I would think she has a slight idea what should be present," he answered you in an equally hushed tone. He moved to press a light kiss to the crown of your head before murmuring, "You don't need to leave this room and face her. Let me go out and get us something to eat. I will tell her you simply feel unwell and I told you to stay in bed to recover from your coughing fit; perhaps I can even tell her that I intend to make sure you're alright and stay with you through the night--"

"Don't." You nearly raised your voice in panic at his suggestion, your free hand reaching out and grasping at his arm to silently tell him how much of a terrible idea that would have been. "She'll be faster to suspect if you try to change your routine the night you come home. Even if you give her a perfectly good explanation. Thomas, this is someone who's killed multiple times before, and shows no hesitation of doing it again if it means she gets to have the life she wants and keep you in the process." You could feel how his pulse jumped at those words. "We don't know how her mind works, not even you know anymore, so it's best that we tread on the side of caution and not do anything that would risk agitating her peace. My presence here is enough to throw her off kilter, I would imagine. Let's not add to it."

The confusion was written all over his face now, tilting his head as he stared at you as if in a new light. Much like how you looked at him earlier when you realized that you hadn't quite been swept up into the romance stories you'd always dreamed about.

You were dragged into the horror stories you were all too accustomed to. Only this time you were to be the victim, and you had ghosts trying to help you stay alive.

"How do you know all this?" he blurted out, his expression seeming to teeter on the brink of what seemed like optimism. As if for the first time in a long time, he saw a glimmer of hope. "It's like I struck gold meeting you…"

"That's--really flattering, Thomas." You ducked your head, suddenly more interested in the sanding paper in your other hand. "But really…like I told Lucille, there was just so much that we weren't able to learn about each other. I'm betting you don't know what I do for a living, do you?" He only answered with a slight shake of his head. "I'm a consultant for Scotland Yard. They pay me to solve their cold cases."

An unabashedly optimistic expression overtook his face, eyes widening and glistening with the slightest sheen of tears, wide smile stretching across his face as he brought your hand up to his lips and pressed a quick kiss to your knuckles. The action had felt so out of place for you that all you managed to do was give him a small smile in return, allowing him to take the little paper out of your hand and place it back into your luggage, and guide you to sit at the edge of the bed.

"Thank you," he breathed out, leaning in to place a kiss to the top of your head before briskly walking out of the room, carrying a lightness in his step that hadn't been present in the entire time you'd known him.

"Allergies," Lucille hissed as soon as Thomas walked down the stairs. "Of all the affluent and eligible women in the city and the one you pick ends up being allergic to the very crux of our plans. Now we have no poison lest I kill her far before her inheritance is even transferred to her. We might as well start from scratch, find someone new. You mentioned she's not in contact with any family, yes?"

He felt his stomach drop seeing his sister reach into the top shelf of the cupboard and take out her cleaver, cleaned and undoubtedly sharpened meticulously since the last time it was used. The thought of that forsaken weapon being used on you, to split your head into two like Lucille once did what felt like eons ago, made him want to retch.

"Lucille stop." She near slammed the cleaver down to the table with a resounding hard thud, the sound making him have to refrain from flinching and showing her that he feared for you. For your safety. He scrambled for a reason to give her to keep you alive, knowing that the last time he told her to stop had actually pushed her to act faster and put an end to poor Edith. "The money she stands to gain now that she's married is…sizable."

His insides turned at the way her features lit up at his words. "Elaborate, my sweet boy." That name slithering out of her mouth had him feeling the bitter taste of bile rising up his throat.

"Enough to fund an entire new machine," he offered. "And perhaps even enough to find a suitable place in the city. No more rotting walls. No more sinking house."

"No more infernal mother haunting our every move…" she trailed off, a sinister and eerily relaxed smile pulling at the corners of her mouth as she imagined a life away from Allerdale Hall. "Fine," she sighed, putting the cleaver away once more. "But once she receives her inheritance, and the documents affirming that everything that is hers will become yours on the event of her unfortunate and untimely demise are finalized, you inform me."

Once again he resisted the urge to flinch away as she walked to him, placing her hands on his shoulders and standing up on the tips of her toes to press a ghost of a kiss to his cheek.

"And then we can be on our way to a better life, my sweet love."

"We have a problem," were the first words out of Thomas' mouth as soon as he closed the doors to your bedroom, kicking the door closed as he balanced a small tray of food in his hands.

"We're living in a house with someone that fits my definition of a serial killer, who I've just learned likes to take a lock of hair from each of her previous victims and braids them into a strange little bracelet thing, so I'm gonna go out on a limb here and also call her a touch deranged. Top that off with us living in a house haunted by the ghosts of your ex-wives? And I can't help but have to ask for a little elaboration. Which problem exactly are you referring to?"

"Lucille was about to march up here and murder you with her cleaver." It was as if you could feel the blood draining from your body, a chill that had nothing to do with the wind washing over you. "I was only able to buy you some time by telling her that we're waiting on your inheritance to come through now that you've married."

Oh, there was definitely a problem now, you thought to yourself. "Thomas…what inheritance?" You saw as his own expression took on one of panic and worry as he set the tray down on the bed, walking over to you and gently placing his hands on your shoulders. "I don't stand to inherit anything from anyone, my family didn't come from money--"

"But…your place in the city? Your clothes? I've seen how you live when we were still back in the city, Y/N…"

"All mine," you answered. "I get compensated a fair bit for every cold case I put to rest courtesy of Scotland Yard. And the rest…well, let's just say that some of the families that I'd given closure to do come from money, and quite a bit of it. And they're often quite generous in showing their gratitude." You didn't hold back your grimace as you spoke your next words as softly as you could manage. "Any money that I didn't bring with me here is held in an account under my name at the bank in the city proper."

He repeated his words from earlier. "We have a problem."

"Yes. Yes we do." You placed your hands over his, slightly baffling yourself in the bizarre comfort you now found in his touch, considering that just over an hour earlier you had your blade pointed at his throat demanding he keep his distance.

There were too many worries screaming in your mind about how this could all end in your death, but all silenced with the chilling realization that the alternative would be to sit and do nothing while Lucille took your life, and drain you of everything you'd worked so hard over the last few years for all to fund the glamorous life she believed she was due to her. The only option when presented like that truly was to fight.

"Tell her that it will take a month," you said after a few moments of stifling quiet. "That there are…property deeds being transferred to my name and it would take a month for the documents to be sent over to me for signing and notarization. Now…which parts of your machine take longest from order to delivery?"

It took him a few moments before he answered, "Coil springs. They usually take three to four weeks."

"Alright. Place an order for those and when they arrive, we will retrieve them from the post office and once we're there, I'll send out my call for assistance to Scotland Yard. That gives us three to four weeks for me to create copies of the documents she has on hand that would implicate her in the deaths of your former wives and transcribe whatever I might find on the recording cylinders for the phonograph."

"But why not just take the documents now and bring them to the post office? Send them as they are? Why make copies?"

"Because the moment we leave, who's to say she's not going to check on those exact documents? When people hide something, there's this constant niggling thought in the back of their mind that worries someone will find it. They check their hiding places, make sure everything's still in order. If she checks it as soon as we leave, we might not even be able to leave the property. We would just turn into ghosts stuck here, right next to Edith and Enola and every other spirit that roams these halls. Making a copy and hiding the copy away somewhere she wouldn't look, and keeping the originals where she counts on them to be, that would be our best chance."

"And where would you hide these copies? How would you make them in the first place?"

You walked over to a bottom cabinet that Edith had pointed out to you while Thomas was downstairs, pulling out a stack of papers and a fountain pen. "By hand for the how. It would be the quietest method instead of the cranks and chimes of the typewriter in your library. As for the where I would hide them…you mentioned you have a workshop. Perhaps I could hide the copies amongst your sketches, keep them within plain sight but ultimately…somewhere she wouldn't think of looking?"

"Of course." He held out a hand for you to take and help you stand up, placing your newfound supplies on top of the cabinet before taking a spoonful of the stew on the tray for himself and then holding the bowl out to you. "I swear. No poison."

You couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your mouth at the gesture, taking the bowl from him before sitting at the edge of the bed and the two of you ate your food in silence. There was one final part of this plan that was quickly flooding you with guilt, and you knew that once he voiced the question you would both be filled with dread at his part in this little operation.

"You will have to move about the house quite a bit," he murmured. It was nearly visible how the gears were turning in his head, a slight hitch in his breath when you only answered him with a nod. "What if she hears you?"

"That's…where you would come in," you hedged, fighting against the urge to reach for him when you saw the look on his face. The silent plea for you to not say the words he dreaded were coming next. "Remember that thing I said about not breaking routine? We'll need that to ensure that she truly suspects nothing. Only now it will serve a new purpose…keeping her distracted so we can be sure that she won't roam about and chance upon me copying the documents that would lock her away."

Any hesitance you had against reaching for him flew out the window when you saw how visibly he was shaking. Heard his shaky breaths and the waver in his voice as he said, "This will help you with your plan. I'll be helping keep you safe." It was almost as if he was not even talking directly to you, but rather like he was saying them to comfort himself. As if he needed to give himself a reason to walk back into the situation that had him abhorred with himself.

"It will," you whispered, standing to close the distance between you two and take his hands in yours. "You will."

A part of you ached when he looked up and you could see the tears welling in his eyes, an irrational thought forming already of you instead going for a less subtle approach and just asking him to point out where his murderous sister stashed her cleaver and get the jump on her now while she had no reason to have her defenses up. If only to save him from having to serve as your distraction in this endeavor.

The ache grew stronger when he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into an embrace, resting his head against your stomach and letting out a shaky exhale. "When do we start?"

"Tonight," you sighed, trying to keep your composure when you felt his arms tighten around you by the slightest. "I need to know how much progress can be done each night, how many documents can be copied with ink completely dried and ready to be sent off to the city. I'll take two candles and use that to know how much time I have left. When I have half a thumb's worth left of the second candle, I'll run to your workshop and hide what I've done so far. That way by tomorrow morning, I could perhaps think of a way to move more efficiently."

You felt more than saw him nodding his head before he turned to press a kiss to your stomach, the implied intimacy behind the action making your heart jump. "Stay safe, wife," he mumbled against the fabric of your dress, arms still fastened around you as if he had no intentions of letting you go until the dreadful hours after dark -- and this potentially perilous operation -- began.

The distrust you had for him chipped away a fraction with the sentiment, moving you to finally return his embrace, lightly stroking his hair before you leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head. "You, too, husband."

A/N: Whew whelp I'm nervous for their plan ngl 🥴🫡 Hope y'all like the second part of this series and where the story's headed! Next part covers the start of their little operation and some softness…and maybe something extra too because I'm thinking about it now and part of me's screaming that it just has to be done (no it's not smut…yet. that's not 'til part [redacted]) 😮‍����

everything taglist: @sailorholly @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @sarahscribbles @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @dangertoozmanykids101 @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina

the final Lady Sharpe taglist: @lady-rose-moon @sassanoe @smolvenger @annoyingsweetsstranger @bombcitymiss22 @ladyloki3 @cakesandtom

[bxckybarness]

What I Missed - Loki Laufeyson

summary: while in custody at the TVA, loki realizes what he misses from the future, only to be surprised by what he gets in the present

word count: 2100+

warnings: a little angsty, a little emotional, mention of loki’s death, episode 1 spoilers

Today was certainly not Loki’s day.

Over the course of a few hours (or more, or less, this is the TVA, afterall) he had been in the custody of the Avengers, had happened upon the Tesseract and escaped from New York. It seemed too good to be true, and it was. Just when he thought he had truly outsmarted the Earthly heroes again, he was imprisoned and taken again.

Now here he was, under the supervision of the Time Variance Authority and one, Mobius, a bizarre administrator in charge of tracking down the most dangerous of variants. It all seemed like madness to Loki. He was used to silly games and grandiose tricks but this story of timelines and space lizards seemed beyond even his own trickery. It seemed downright absurd. And annoying.

He had been subject to what he would call an interrogation. Mobius, however, called it a simple conversation. A slideshow of his life, his “greatest hits” as Mobius had called it and a relentless fire of questions, the memory of which continued to burn in his memory:

Should you return, what are you going to do?

King of Midgard? Then what, happily ever after?

King of Space?

Why does someone with so much capability just want to rule?

Do you enjoy hurting people?

That one had burned most of all. Did he enjoy hurting people? Hardly. And it was upsetting to him that anyone would think that. But he also understood what he appeared to be to every other living creature. He had just relived the moment in which he killed that daft agent and his mother. His mother. He refused to believe he was at fault for that. Frigga was the only person who truly saw him and whom Loki cared for deeply. But it seemed so clear in the moving picture, he had led them right to her.

It was in that moment, with tears and rage in his eyes, he knew he needed to get out of the disastrous time circus. He no longer cared to be a monkey in this ring. If he could find the tesseract, he could escape and be free once again.

That plan had gone almost perfectly. The only thing that went wrong - there is no magic in the TVA. No matter how many times he held the tesseract in his hands, wishing it to take him back to Midgard or Asgard, he was met with nothing but the bland walls in this TVA Time Theater. There was no hope in escaping.

Feeling exhausted, Loki slowly moves toward the table in the center of the room. He sits down and admires the machine in front of him. As grim as the stories it held could be, it was still quite fascinating that it could replay the highlights from his life - in a weird way, at least. He reaches out and turns the knob, searching for the moment his mother dies. He finds it and watches in silence for a while, tears beginning to fall down his face.

He turns the knob again.

He sees a future version of himself sitting next to his father and Thor. He watches as his father declares his love for his sons. Sons, plural. Both Thor and him. A small smile graces Loki’s face before Odin disappears, leaving the two men behind. Loki holds back a sob as tears continue to flood from his eyes. His father did love him, did see purpose for him. He wasn’t just the mischievous son. He’s sad that it took this long to understand that, and sad that he never got to experience this himself, even if a future version of him did.

Another turn of the knob.

This scene immediately feels different. He sees a garden, full of life, beautiful flowers blooming in every direction. He sees himself, sitting under a tree smiling next to a young woman. As the scene progresses he realizes this version of him is smiling at you. He lets out a small gasp when he watches the pair share a kiss and wipes the quickly falling tears from his cheeks. He had always loved you, but had never gotten the chance to tell you. The two of you had met through Thor, when he brought both you and Jane to Asgard. He had taken to you quickly, enjoying your similar sarcasm and humor - something that was scarce within his home realm. You, like his mother, had always seen the good in him and had understood his struggle. It was something he would never understand, you being of Midgard. You knew what he had done and had been there to see the destruction, but still saw him not as the God of Mischief or Earth Enemy #1, only Loki. He aches for the fact that he never got to feel the happiness his future self did, especially when it was happiness with you.

Turn the knob.

Loki and Thor stand in a room together. Loki lets out a small laugh in the midst of his tears, wondering how his oaf of a brother managed to lose an eye. Maybe a dumb bet between the two of them, maybe there was a battle amongst the nine realms. He’s quickly pulled from his thoughts as he hears Thor speak.

“Maybe you’re not so bad after all, brother.”

“Maybe not,” the future Loki responds.

“Thank you,” Thor replies, “If you were here, I might even give you a hug.”

“I’m here.”

Loki smiles and nods to himself. From where he’s sitting now, it’s a wonder that he and his brother ever made up. He realizes now that the fighting and the sibling rivalry may have all been in his head. He, again, curses himself for leaving New York and allowing himself to miss these moments that he’s been waiting his whole life for.

Fast-forward.

He and you lay in a room, seemingly on the same ship as the previous scene. You lay snug against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around you. You hum softly before speaking up.

“I love you, you know.”

By the look on both of your faces, it’s the first time this has been said out loud. There’s nervous tension in the room, Loki can feel it through this screen. He somehow knows the words his future self is going to say before he hears them.

“I love you too, darling. You bring out the best in me.”

You snuggle closer to him, if that’s even possible, and there’s a comfortable silence for a few seconds. Loki takes a moment to admire this picture. It was something he had wanted since he had first met you on Asgard. You had stuck out like a sore thumb, dressed in your casual Midgardian clothes. He couldn’t have missed you even if he tried, nobody could have. And boy was he glad about that now.

“Promise me something,” he watches himself say.

“Anything,” you whisper. “Anything for you, Loki.”

“Promise me, no matter what, you’ll always help me see the good in myself. I’ve too long suffered at the hands of those who desperately wish for me to see the bad.”

You let out a laugh and the Loki stuck in time laughs with you, “Oh, Loki. I wish you could see yourself as I see you. But I promise.”

“Thank you, my love.”

“You, Loki, may be a God, but you will always just be the man I fell in love with. The good, kind, and honorable man I call mine.”

Turn, again.

Loki sees himself kneeling and before he can question why, he watches as his future self moves to attack someone in front of him. When Loki realizes it's Thanos, he’s quickly on his feet, moving closer to the screen. The tears are gone now, and a silent rage burns behind his eyes. There was nothing from Loki but hate for the purple titan. He watches in horror as Thanos picks Loki up from the floor, a death grip on his neck. Loki wonders to himself how he would get himself out of this scenario had he been there. He assumes an illusion would do the trick. However, he notices your distraught figure behind the mad titan. He can hear your screams as you kneel next to Thor, who is imprisoned in cuffs. He hears you call out to him and he knows this will not end well. His suspicions are right when he watches his death. A shocked gasp comes from his throat as the tape in front of him runs out, nothing left to show.

Loki quickly sits back down and closes his eyes, trying his hardest to process the vision he saw. To one version of him, these would have been experiences and now memories. To him, though, these were all subtle tastes of a life he lost. He lost a touching moment with his father and a long awaited declaration of love from him. He lost the reconciliation with his brother and the confession that they had been more partners than rivals. Even though to him it had not yet happened, he missed it all, and it upset him deeply.

What hurt Loki the most was the idea that he lost his chance to feel his love reciprocated. Loki had never had much luck with romance. He was often seen as the sly younger brother and was usually too occupied to try and compete with Thor for the maidens at court. When he met you, he thought he had a chance. You were the first woman who saw him as his own person and not just as Thor’s brother. The relationship between the two of you had blossomed quickly and he found himself always sneaking away from his princely duties to see you. He had shown you his favorite places in Asgard and had opened up to you in ways he had never done before. He loved you and wanted you to be his. His one regret was not initiating a relationship before you had left for Midgard. And he thought his chances had been ruined by his actions in New York. Oh, how wrong he was.

Before Loki can dwell on his future more, Mobius comes bursting into the room.

“Ah Loki, glad you made your way back here. I have something for you,” he says.

“If this is another one of your tricks, I’m not currently in the mood,” Loki responds coolly.

“Just trust me on this one.”

Mobius shouts over his shoulder for someone to “bring her in.” Loki eyes the guards who walk in suspiciously until he notices who they bring with them. He can hardly believe his eyes. The gods in all the realms must be smiling down on him today, after all, because there you stand. He takes in your hideous red and white space suit, emblazoned with the Avengers logo, and he’s at least thankful he missed whatever battle this suit was required for.

He quickly stands and rushes over to you, a smile quickly gracing his face. You meet his gaze with a smile that is just as big and tears begin to flow from your eyes.

“Loki,’ you start. “Is that really you?”

He nods and speaks, although his words are barely audible, “It’s me, my love.”

“God, I thought I lost you forever. That’s why I went back in time to find you.”

Loki nods, now, unable to believe what he’s hearing, “You went back to find me?”

“Yes, but look what good that did me,” you say with a smirk. Loki’s heart pulls and he feels he could fall over right there. Norns, he missed you and your witty humor.

“Well,” he says, reciprocating your sly attitude, “You found me did you not? I might not be the same Loki as you knew, but I am still Loki.”

“The good, kind, and honorable Loki that I call mine.”

Loki smiles and you move forward to give him a hug. You’re cautious, though, because you aren’t exactly sure what part of the timeline this Loki came from. Maybe you had already been dating, maybe not. That was something to figure out another time though.

“Alright then,” Mobius says from behind you, “Let’s get you two caught up on what you missed with each other.”

Today was certainly not Loki’s day. And he had cursed all that was good that he had ended up at the TVA, taken from the life he knew. But now? He didn’t mind. He knew the relationships that were broken with his brother and father had been mended, he knew that one version of him had sacrificed himself for good and he had you, not only in memory but in the flesh. And sure, you had lots to rediscover within your relationship, but you would do that together.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Meant To Be - Loki x Fem! Reader

Summary: Much to your displeasure, your parents have promised you away to the God of Mischief of all people.

Tags: Arranged Marriage AU, Light Elf! Reader

Warnings: Aside from Loki hating himself, nothing.

Words: 2878

I Masterlist I

A/N: Some good old-fashioned, ‘redeemed after The Avengers and the other movies didn’t happen’ Loki. Like, really cheesy, self-indulgent 2012 stuff. I just want to ignore all misery that happens in the series okay?

“Ew! Stop it!”

You were eight at the time when you and Loki first met, by means of negotiation between both your parents.

If only you knew that this encounter should be the first impression of what should be your husband in the near future...

Frigga and Odin could only plead for their son to be on his best behavior - but well, it’s the God of Mischief we’re talking about. Must be hard to inherit such a title from your very birth.

Just when you put the little bonquet of flowers he had picked up for you towards your face to admire it, several little spiders emerged from the blossoms.

“You’re no fun.” The raven-haired boy stood a safe distance away from you, arms crossed as his gleeful laughter turned into a broad sulk. "And your ears are weird.”

“I hate you!” you screeched in your childish rage, throwing the flowers to the ground and trampling onto them. “Where’s your brother? Thor is way nicer than you!”

“Well, why don’t you marry him then?!” he mocked to cover up his hurt pride, picking up a handful of dirt and throwing it in your direction. 

“I don’t need any friends anyway...” the little boy whispered to himself, running away from the scene with tears filling the corner of his eyes. 

“I don’t need anyone. I’m way better than all of them!”

Not even Frigga was fast enough to catch up with him, while Odin uttered some fake apologies to your parents, promising them that everything will go as planned.

You on the other hand were running towards your mother, tightly grabbing onto her dress. “He’s mean! I wanna go home!”

As Queen of the Light Elves, your mother was a being full of grace and composure - and you were hoping to one day become such a formidable person as well.

She bowed down to your height, petting your hair as you rubbed the mixture of tears and dirt from your cheeks. Just her bright smile alone would sometimes be enough to make you forget about your worries - but not today.

“My sweet child” she cooed, cradling you in her arms. “One day you’ll understand.”

However, this would be the last time you paid Asgard a visit - at least until now. Because no matter how deeply you wished to never meet him again, the words your mother spoke on that day haunted you all those years:

“For this is your duty as a princess.”

[Present Day - Asgard]

It felt so unreal when you stuck your head outside of the wooden carriage, the wind playing with your hair as your glare wandered over the rainbow bridge you were crossing.

Silence strained the air, your parents unable to do even so much as look into your eyes. Hel, how you wished this was only a dream.

Behind you was a whole company of Light Elves, transporting all of your belongings to what should be your homecountry from now on.

Now there was no way back, that much was sure.

You were supposed to meet your soon-to-be husband on that very same day, one day before your wedding to be precize.

One could only guess why you weren’t allowed to visit Asgard again for all those years, even though you were practically born just for this reason - for this person.

To become Loki’s bride was your involuntary purpose, and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be truly free.

Maybe your parents thought the God of Mischief to have a bad influence on their growing daughter, pulling you into his harmless yet dishonorable schemes. Or they simply feared you to refuse marrying said man if you got to know him better, finding out just what kind of person you were promised to.

Not that your parents were pleased either...everyone in the Nine Realms knew the stories.

To Odin, there was no point in hiding the disgrace his adoptive son had brought over Asgard. Not only was he responsible for an attack on Midgard, sacrificing thousands of lives for his own sake, drunken by greed for power.

But all of you were shocked to hear that Loki Odinson - or rather Laufeyson - was never Asgardian to begin with.

A Frost Giant.

Among your kind, they were known to be one of the most terrible abominations in the nine realms, and murderer of countless of your kind - and this should be the father to your future children?

Only thinking about this cruel twist of fate made you want to vomit...

So why did you agree to proceed with the preparations as if nothing had happened? How in Alfheim’s name could you reject their offer to wed you to Thor instead of that lunatic?

Was it that through your upbringing and royal duties, you had lost your own free will? Or simply fear of stepping aside the path that everyone had prepared for you?

It was probably the fact that you didn’t want to get into true love’s way...you and Thor stayed in brief contact through Heimdall, and you just knew how much that human girl meant to him.

You were kinda jealous, though...the concept of being in love was foreign to you, having a vague idea of it from novels only. But real life just wasn’t meant to be that was, was it?

You couldn’t escape your fate, that was what it was - for this treaty would unite both kingdoms, bringing peace and wealth for all of their inhabitants.

No way you could be so selfish as to decline...even if it meant you had to suffer for the rest of your life.

“My Ladyship, we have arrived!” a guard spoke as he knocked on the carriage door, with your parents hinting that you needed to step out first.

The very same guard now yelled from the pit of his lungs, making you feel the whole Kingdom of Asgard could hear. “Now arriving: Lady Y/N Y/L/N, eldest Princess of Alfheim and heir to the throne.”

You heared the people whispering as you took your first, insecure steps, blinded by the bright daylight.

“She’s so pale, like ice” or “Why are her ears like that?” were rather nice comments compared to others plainly calling you ugly, scary or a ‘disgrace’.

Of course your Kingdoms had been in a war for several decades, but this was long in the past - before your very birth, even. So what’s the reason you should bear with such hostility in the place everyone expected you to call ‘home’ from now on?

One thing was clear from the very beginning: You would never belong here.

“May I?” a dark, husky voice interrupted your self-pitying. You blinked heavily, still trying to adjust to all those golden surroundings, until your blurry vision finally cleared up.

“C’mon.” The voice belonged to the man in front of you, looking gravely nervous with sweat dripping from his forehead. He was reaching out a hand for you to take, and you gladly accepted since you didn’t want to embarass yourself further by falling out of the carriage.

And still, you managed to somehow miss a step and fall right into his arms. “Oh my, so clumsy” the man snickered as he catched you, clearing his throat as you grabbed onto his chest to regain balance. "Not very graceful for someone of your status.”

“And you are-” The words got stuck in your throat when you stared back into those eyes, their emerald green awaking memories you’d rather forgotten entirely. “L-Loki!”

“Exactly, my dear. The one and only.” Smooth and calm, he  pecked a kiss on the back of your hand, andyou couldn’t help but admire just how well he had aged: His wild locks were combed back, sharp features complimenting his face as he tried his best to give you his most innocent smile.

Yet you kept your guard up, always expecting him to somehow embarass you just for the fun of it. “When it comes to him, always expect the unexpected” Thor once warned you, and you won’t forget about it that easily.

“It’s a pleasure finally meeting you” was your firm declaration, only to be rewarded with a scoff. “You are speaking to the God of Lies, Lady Y/N - there is no use in trying to deceive me” he whispered into your ear, making you shiver in unpleasant anticipation.

“Carry her belongings to my rooms” he dismissed the servants with a simple gesture of his hand, offering his other arm for you to cling on as he escorted you through the palace.

The giant halls were almost empty, nothing like back on Alfheim where you and your brethren would enjoy each other’s company in midst of nature. A sole tear escaped your eye when you thought back to those carefree days, which are now over.

“Are you alright, m’lady?” Much to your surprise, your fiancé sounded honestly concerned about your well-being. “If you are tired, we can postpone our tour of the palace until you’ve rested.”

 “May I speak from the heart?” You gulped after finishing that sentence, scaring yourself with all the stories you’ve heared about this mad troublemaker.

Somehow you had the feeling that if you were to overstep your boundaries with that brute, it would have consequences beyond your imagination. He might seem generous and polite right this moment, but what would someone like him do if you enrage him? Countless images were circling in your head, one worse than the other.

Loki furrowed his brows, exhalinge deeply. For him, your expression was an open book to what you were thinking right now.

“Y/N, my dear Lady, if you want it or not: Starting tomorrow, we share a bond. I am deeply sorry that a veritable flower as you are had to end up with someone like me, but I promise to treat you as well as possible.”

Turning around so you’d not detect how it hurt him to speak from the heart, he added with a shaky voice “Yet there is no reason for you to hold back your hatred for me. No harm will come your way, I swear upon the little honor I have left.”

Even though his words made you feel a deep sympathy with the god, you weren’t quite sure if you could decipher truth or deceit in them. Maybe he just wanted to lure you into saying what you truly thought of him?

He’s right - you will have to spend the rest of your life with him, so don’t mess this up from the very start!

“I-I don’t hate you!” was the first thing you blurted out, grabbing onto his cloak. Loki turned around, rising his eyebrow as he scanned your face for any hint of a lie.

Althrough it was the truth, at least to a certain extend. You’ve seen each other only once, when you were still little. The rest is all tales and rumours, but you personally don’t have a reason to despise him.

There was no way you could promise to accept his past or heritage, let alone forgive him - yet as long as he’d treat you with respect, you’d return the favour.

“T-There’s just a question on my mind this whole time...aren’t you mad? I-I mean someone like- well...like you...” you gestured around awkardly, almost making him crack a smile. “I mean...I thought you wouldn’t let your parents dictate your life.”

Another deep sigh escaping his mouth, this times with his eyes closed. “This isn’t about Asgard or my adoptive parents. I choose my own path.”

Suddenly, Loki wrapped one arm around you, flicking his fingers with the free one.

“Hold onto me” he ordered indifferent as he casted his spell, teleporting both of you away before you could even comprehend, let alone ask him what he was doing.

It happened in the fraction of a second, yet felt like hovering through an empty space for an eternity.

“Now open your eyes.” You hadn’t even realized that you squeezed them shut during the shift, slowly opening them while Loki lifted your chin with his index finger.

The environment was magnificent. Had you ever seen something this beautiful in your whole life?

Obviously you had no clue where you were, but this was the first time seeing so much untouched nature on Asgard. There were flowers blooming in all colours imagineable, clear rivers crossing the lands in between grassy hills, and animals nearby a small forrest.

“It’s not like I didn’t educate myself about the Light Elves and their way of living” Loki stammered, unconsciously intertwining your fingers with yours as he watched you admiring the view. “So I could make you comfortable here, I mean.”

He plummeted down on the grass, still a little wet from the morning dew, and gestured for you to do the same. It was weird, actually, but also somehow adorable - how the infamous ‘Silver Tongue’ had lost his ability with words. “I’ve done very little right in my life full of wrongs. Hurt a lot of people.”

“Mmmhh” you hummed approvingly, not knowing what else to say - yet for some reason, you didn’t let go off of his hand, squeezing it ever so slightly.

“And even though I can’t possibly redeem myself, I wish to change for the better.” he muttered, rubbing the back of his head. “I just never knew how to start.”

Loki Odinson really was full of surprises. He was nothing like the child you’ve met long ago, and the complete opposite of what you imagined the ‘God of Mischief’ to be.

You had expected a power-hungry, selfish and cruel man to wed you - and yet there he was: Insecure and broken, only a shell of the person he once was.

Just what had you missed all those years? What things happened to break someone’s will like this?

And was he truly beyond repair?

“Those past weeks, I have visited Alfheim more times than you could comprehend” he giggled nervously, avoiding your eyes. “Concealed, of course.”

Well, that sounded kind of weird, but you knew better than to talk someone down who was just opening up to you. So your sole answer was “What for?”

“There was no way a criminal like me would still be seemed fit for this ceremony - and yet I was given this chance anyway. My mother told me that it was you who insisted on carrying on the arrangement, so...I just wanted to know what person would be willingly ruin their life.”

Something different was shining through the god’s orbs, and you couldn’t quite decipher it. Was it hope? Hope, that if you had given him a chance, his life could lead into a different direction? To change himself from the burden that was his birth title?

“I-I guess I don’t want to mess this up like I always do” he whimpered barely audible, before staring at you in shock and embarassment. Until now, he hadn’t realized just how vulnerable he made himself.

Just what the hell would you think about him now? You probably had lost any respect, or thought himself to be crazy. How weak...

So he was quick to put on the confident facade again, wearing his smug grin as if that all was just part of a big joke only he’d understand. But even though you barely knew him, he couldn’t fool you.

“Sometimes it’s enough just to try.” Your head turned from the sight of nature to your fiancé and back several times, before you brought up the courage and put a hand on his shoulder, whispering “So you can’t really mess this up.”

“Gladly you don’t seem to know yet just how much misery I cause.” He kept that thought to himself, to not scare you away.

“I am aware that you could never love someone like me, Y/N. But I can provide for you, dedicate myself to making you content with being my wife. My newfound purpose.”

The purpose of a war criminal - that sure put yourself under a lot of pressure. And still, it made you somewhat proud, and grateful as well. Because it was the first time someone valued you as a person, and not the princess of Alfheim.

Unaware of how much time had passed, both of you would get used to each other’s presence in silence, enjoying the nature while you processed this eventful day.

Exhausted from the long travel and all that rollercoaster of emotion, you soon found yourself dazzling into sleep onto Loki’s shoulder. If only you could see him adore you, staring in awe that someone could actually feel so safe in his presence.

Carefully, the god picked you up, gently lifting you on his arms to make your way back to the palace, where everyone was frantically searching for both of you. Well, Loki was used to trouble -  but right now, it was worth it.

May it be right or wrong, and even though you couldn’t explain this sentiment, you had a good feeling when it came to the things that were just about to come.

“You won’t regret your decision, Y/N Y/L/N. On my side, I assure you a bright future.”

[musclesandhammering]

“he’s being influenced but he’s allowing himself to be because he’s so bitter and hurt”

Thiiiiiiiis. ^

This really sums it up. In a nutshell, he was hurt and angry and desperately needed an outlet for his rage and a purpose, so he made a deal with the devil, knowing full well what it entailed.

Yes, it’s likely that Thanos tortured Loki- but Loki allowed it to happen because it was in the guise of training and making him stronger. Yes, the mind stone was exaggerating Loki’s negative emotions- but Loki agreed to use it knowing that it would do that. Yes, Thanos made it clear that he’d kill loki if he failed him- but Loki knew that’d be the case before he shook his hand, back when he still had the chance to walk away.

Loki knew all of this, he was perfectly aware of the situation going into it, and he had multiple opportunities to back out- but he chose to proceed. He knew that he’d be killing people, he knew he was enlisting to be a dictator, he knew the deal with Thanos was crossing a line, he knew he was signing up for a world of pain, he knew he was betraying Thor, he knew he was getting himself into something impossible to get out of.

He knew exactly what was going to happen, and he volunteered.

That doesn’t mean he actually wanted to rule earth. It doesn’t mean he wasn’t tortured and he wasn’t terrified of Thanos. It just means that he weighed all of that against the satisfaction he would receive from getting vengeance, and decided it was worth it.

And honestly? Let’s be real. Loki never had any intention of becoming king of Midgard. He never had any intention of winning, per se. Because the satisfaction was in the act, not the outcome. And that’s what Coulson picked up on.

Loki was not some narcissistic fascist hell bent on claiming a throne he felt entitled to. He was someone who was pissed and looking for a fight. Looking to make a spectacle. Looking to cause chaos. To cause problems for his father who was responsible for this realm, to cause pain for his brother who loved these humans. A lost soul finding temporary purpose in a doomed power gambit. And, really, it was so clever for Coulson to call him out on it. Because Loki was just barely keeping himself from crumbling by clinging onto this new psychopath persona he’d found, so it must’ve been a serious blow to his entire emotional foundation for his enemy to see right through it.

It’s so poetic, though. Cause at the end of the day, Loki wasn’t evil and he also wasn’t blameless. He was lost. And it led him to do some terrible, awful things. Isn’t that way more interesting?

(Possibly?) Controversial opinion incoming:

(Throwing it back to 2012/2013 here lmao)

I feel like the theory that Loki was mind controlled during the Avengers actually takes away the complexity of his character.

w-wait- waIT- HEAR ME OUT!

I think Loki was INFLUENCED by the mind stone for sure, but, to me, he was not controlled.

His anger, his fear, his need for validation and revenge are all what drove him to the events of the Avengers movie. He had just been, what he felt, was cast out by Thor and Odin and his home - those he considered his family and people, he had fallen through space, ended up in such a bad state that Thanos found him and used him for his own gain. (Although, Loki is smart enough to play at that game, ‘you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours’ type of thing. EDIT: I mean this sentence in a ‘Loki is good at twisting things to his advantage’ way, not that it means he couldn’t have been manipulated himself in the process.)

I don’t think Thanos or the mind stone had any control over Loki’s mind, not in the way most theories speak of. Loki was controlled by the consequences he would face if he failed his mission, not that he was physically being controlled. I think Loki was given the mind stone because Thanos knew it would enhance those feelings of venom Loki was experiencing - it was an aid of sorts to give him his conviction, which even then, Agent Coulson saw through it.

“You lack conviction.”

Those simple words got to Loki. Because he knew it was true.

Loki never wanted the throne but yet, that was what he was telling everyone was his goal, his reasoning, his motivation… When in his heart, he knew it wasn’t. His motivation was truly fuelled from his hurt, his pain… Not an ambition for a throne.

And that is what makes Loki so interesting.

And that is why I find the theory that Loki had no control over his actions and had no idea what he was doing, takes away from his character, his complexity…

(PSA: I am not here to tell you what you can or cannot headcannon or what theories you believe, it’s a fictional character in a fictional story in a fictional universe… It isn’t that deep, this is just my own personal opinion and preference! If you like the theory for your own reasons, that’s fine too! /gen)

[iam93percentstardust]

Prompt: Stony, animal transformation

I realized about halfway through writing this that you probably meant a spell or something but I wrote shifters instead and I really liked what I had so I kept going. Sorry it’s a lot crackier than you were probably expecting; you can blame @maguna-stxrk for that

As always, everything I write is also available on ao3

~

“No.”

The first time Tony met Steve Rogers, he was both delighted and irritated. Delighted because hey! Captain America is another cat shifter! And that means that Howard was wrong and Tony is, in fact, like Captain America (in some ways at least; in others, that remains to be proven).

“I won’t do it.”

And irritated because Captain America is another cat shifter.

“You can’t make me.”

Tony knows that there are cat shifters out there who are perfectly friendly and like being around other cats. He is not one of them. There are multiple reasons why he and Steve clashed on the helicarrier and only one of them is Loki’s staff. Tony’s breed is highly territorial and everything in his tower is his and he doesn’t want another cat in there rubbing up against his stuff. But there Fury is, insisting that the entire team move into the tower.

“I don’t want them there,” Tony says flatly. That’s not entirely true. He doesn’t really want any of them there but he’s willing to put up with them. The only one he really truly genuinely doesn’t want there is Steve.

It’s probably a good thing none of the rest of the team is here to hear him complaining about them. But, well, they should know better than to expect friendliness out of him. He’s not friendly. He’s majestic and aloof and not in the mood to have anyone else around to see him when he’s not being majestic and aloof.

Fury eyes him. Tony doesn’t know what kind of shifter he is—he keeps that kind of paperwork on actual paper, ew—but he wouldn’t be surprised if it’s something sneaky and devious like Fury himself (probably a snake. Tony hates snakes).

“Stark, the ways I could make you do what I want—”

“—are all against the Geneva Convention,” Tony finishes smoothly. In his reflection on the table, he realizes that the tuft of hair behind his ear isn’t lying flat. He licks the back of his hand and reaches up to smooth the hairs back down.

“Stark.”

“Fury.”

“We are running out of options—”

“Well, that sounds like a you problem.”

“—for Clint.”

Tony shuts up. Sighs. Glances through the window of the conference room where he can see Clint leaning against the wall, stuck in partial shift since Loki and the invasion. His golden tail is tucked between his legs, his ears are drooped, and he flinches like a kicked puppy (not an inaccurate description) every time someone walks by.

“How bad is it?” he asks.

“People don’t want him on the helicarrier,” Fury says. “He makes them nervous. His pack bonds were broken when Loki took him, and with Coulson—well.”

Yeah, that. Dog shifters like Clint rely on pack bonds, even those formed between non-dogs. Tony’s always been more of a loner so he can’t really imagine what Clint is going through but judging by the way Clint looks, he can guess it isn’t easy.

“They’ve all been briefed on what it’s like living with a cat, even Rogers, and they know about your idiosyncrasies in particular.”

And that’s the crux of the matter. “I don’t want him there,” Tony says quietly.

“He’s not the same breed—”

“But he’s got the same instincts!” He sighs frustratedly and almost runs his hand through his hair before he realizes how much that’ll mess up his hairstyle. His tail lashes agitatedly behind him, instincts urging him to claw, to bite, to protect his home from the invader. “Why can’t it just be Clint?”

“Because where Clint goes, Natasha goes. Besides, Clint needs the pack bonds, which means he needs the whole team.”

Tony hisses, crosses his arms, pouts. “Fine,” he says eventually. “But I don’t like it.”

And then, before Fury can feel too smug in his victory, he keeps aggressive eye contact and knocks Fury’s water glass off the table, darting away before he can hear more than the bellow of rage.

 ~

“I don’t want you here,” Tony says, ears laced back irritably. It’s the first time he’s come across Steve in the tower so far and of course the man (well, actually he’s shifted into his cat form right now) is lying in Tony’s favorite sunbeam. The nerve of some people.

The single eye that Tony can see slits open and stares at him for a long moment. In the next moment, a ripple comes over the cat and then Steve has partially shifted back, stretching lazily as he yawns. “Okay, Tony,” he agrees.

“You’re in my sunbeam.”

“Okay, Tony.”

“I want you out of it.”

“But it’s such a nice sunbeam.”

“It’s mine.”

“We could share it.”

Tony lets out an offended yowl. They can’t share it. That would defeat the purpose of it being his. Steve stares at him for a long moment and then stretches again, muscles rippling in interesting ways that make Tony want to knead them for—no. No kneading. No accepting the interloper.

“Come on, Tony. It’s sunny and I want to nap. We can share the sunbeam,” Steve says around another yawn before flopping over onto his side, still mostly human. Tony wants to bite his tail. But… he does want a nap. And this is favorite sunbeam. And he shouldn’t have to find another one since there’s no way Steve will be leaving this one (sadly Tony has not yet figured out the right strength the armor needs to move him).

He carefully lays down, putting several inches of space between him and Steve. Almost immediately, he can feel the effects of the warm sun on him, pulling him under into a light doze. It’s not enough to fall asleep entirely, not when he can still feel Steve at his front but then Steve starts to purr and oh, that’s kind of nice. He hesitantly lets out an answering purr of his own. Steve’s rumble grows louder and almost without meaning to, Tony finds his hands kneading the ground contentedly.

~

But that won’t stand. It can’t stand. He conceded ground on the sunbeam because it and Steve were warm and that was clearly a mistake because now Steve is standing in the kitchen, drinking coffee from Tony’s favorite coffeepot out of Tony’s favorite mug as he talks to Natasha.

And this injustice cannot stand!

“Mine,” he hisses, fingers shifting into extended claws, ready to tear into Steve for daring to drink from what clearly belongs to Tony.

At his hiss, Natasha’s skin ripples until she’s scaly and blending in with the cabinets. Smart of her to stay out of his way. Few things are worse than a territorial cat and even someone as lethal as Natasha would hesitate to face him when he’s like this, even though Steve gives her an amused look and says, “Really?”

Steve takes another sip out of the mug. Tony’s hiss turns into a full-throated growl. “Tony, you have to learn to share.”

“No.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Mine.”

“Yeah, you said that.” Steve doesn’t sound very impressed. Or even particularly intimidated, damn it.

“It’s my mug, it’s my favorite mug, you have to give it back,” Tony says, eyes tracking the mug as Steve lifts it to his lips again—wow, they looked kind of pink and pretty in the morning—no, focus. “Give it.”

“Alright,” Steve says agreeably and holds the mug out. “Here you go.”

Tony’s tail lashes and he hisses again. “You know I don’t like to be handed things.”

“Oh right,” Steve says, sounding remarkably unconcerned. “Too bad then. Guess you’re not getting your mug back.” He takes another sip from the mug—Tony’s mug.

“No,” Tony whines, drawing the word out so that it has at least eight additional syllables. He flops over onto the kitchen table, rolling around mostly so that he’s treating this situation with the hysteria it deserves but also so that he can scent mark the table, which currently smells of the rest of the team and not like him.

“Tony, stop being overdramatic,” Natasha orders, apparently deciding that she doesn’t need to blend in with the background anymore. “Steve, stop being a shit and give him back his mug.”

“No,” they both say petulantly.

She pulls out one of the many, many knives she keeps on her person. Tony hurriedly rolls off the table. Steve quickly puts the mug down and pulls out another one. Immediately, Tony darts to his mug—all his, no one else’s—and cradles it to his chest.

“That’s better,” Natasha says smugly and stalks out of the kitchen.

Tony waits until she’s gone and Steve has filled his new mug. Then, as Steve busies himself with cooking his breakfast, he slowly, cautiously reaches out and bats Steve’s mug off the counter. He gleefully sprints out of the kitchen to the sound of Steve’s outraged yowls, clutching his own mug close.

~

“Clint says you’ve been working too long,” Steve says, surprising Tony so much all the fur on his tail stands straight up.

“Fuck,” he spits. “I have a heart condition, you know.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees like the asshole cat he is. “But I don’t think I’m going to give you a heart attack just by sneaking up on you. Not my fault you were in a zone.”

Tony grumbles wordlessly under his breath. It’s true that he’s been in a zone for the last couple hours or so, something that he achieves only through kneading or inventing, but that’s no reason for Clint to be concerned.

“Why do you care if Clint says I’ve been working too long?” he asks. Steve picks up one of his screwdrivers and spins it between his fingers before setting it back down. Tony immediately picks it up as well and rubs his cheek on it to cover it in his scent again. Steve shoots him a mischievous grin and promptly moves further away to do the same thing to a different screwdriver. Tony resigns himself to losing another couple of hours to scent marking everything once Steve is gone.

“I don’t,” Steve says, now rubbing up against one of the armors (and no, Tony is not thinking about how good Steve looks like that). “I thought we were doing a great job of ignoring each other. But he says it’s been more than twenty-four hours, which means it’s time for a break.”

“Says who?”

“Pepper, apparently.”

Tony winces. Okay, yeah, he can ignore pretty much everyone except for Pepper. She’s important.

“So you’re… what, here to drag me upstairs for dinner?”

Steve shakes his head and holds up a bag in his hand. “Thought I’d offer to split a bag of catnip with you.”

Huh.

“Huh,” Tony says out loud. He eyes it suspiciously. “It’s not laced with anything else, is it? You’re not going to take me to knock me out and take me to Medical.”

“Just pure catnip.” Steve opens the bag and Tony’s eyes dilate at the intoxicating scent. “Why, do you need to go to Medical?”

Tony thinks of the two cracked ribs he suffered during the battle yesterday that he’d wrapped himself. “Nope,” he says blithely. Steve’s eyes narrow but he doesn’t argue. “Are you going to judge me for straight up eating it?”

“Are you going to judge me for doing the same?”

“Fair,” he says and holds out a hand for the bag. Steve upends it and dumps half in Tony’s hand, watching without judgment as Tony stuffs half of it into his mouth.

And when Tony comes back from his catnip-induced high to finds himself fully shifted, Steve’s own shifted form wrapped so tightly around him that his short tabby fur is mingling with Tony’s longer white fur, there’s no judgment there either, just Steve purring and purring and purring.

~

“Why do you do it?” Tony quietly asks Steve one night. Some animated movie is playing on the screen but Tony doesn’t think anyone is actually paying attention to it. The rest of the team is busy sleeping together in a cuddle pile in their shifted forms, Clint’s golden retriever spooned by Thor’s panda, Bruce’s owl perched on top of Clint with his head tucked under his wing. He can’t spot Natasha’s chameleon but he can smell her so he knows she’s there somewhere. He and Steve are sitting apart from the rest of the team, studiously ignoring them. It had surprised him when Steve hadn’t gotten down there to join them—tabbies tend to be more social than other cats—and instead chosen to curl up next to him on the couch in his partial shift, but to his shock, he isn’t complaining about it.

Idly, Steve twines his tail around Tony’s twitching one and purrs, relaxing him until he’s a puddle on the couch. “Nat said it was a good way to get your attention.”

“What, picking a fight with me?”

“Tony.” Steve gives him a long look and then leans over to lick his ear. It should make Tony stiffen, run away, groom over that one spot until he no longer smells of Steve anymore. It doesn’t. It just makes his ear flick curiously. “I never wanted to fight with you.”

Oh.

Oh.

Suddenly, Tony’s brain is sifting through every interaction he and Steve have ever had, looking at them in a new light. Okay, and yeah, now that he’s thinking about it, he can see that this has all been Steve’s clumsy, well-intended attempt at courting him. And maybe he’s never really thought about Steve like that before but he’s thinking now and what he’s thinking is that when Steve isn’t stealing his things and laying in his favorite sunbeam, he actually really likes Steve.

“You’re not very good at this,” he informs Steve.

“Yeah, I’m getting that impression.”

“Natasha gave you bad advice.”

“I’m pretty sure she did it on purpose to stir up trouble.”

“She’s worse than either of us,” Tony agrees. “Now, hold still.”

“Wha—” He leans over Steve and licks at his ear, carefully grooming him. Steve purrs beneath him, eyes half-closed with pleasure. Tony’s own eyes drift shut as his heart beats a rhythm to the tune of mine, mine, mine.

~

“Hey, babe,” Tony says, coming up behind Steve. He drapes himself across Steve’s shoulders like the affectionate cat he is, giving a very sharp grin to the young socialite who has been holding onto Steve’s hand for the last minute. Doesn’t she know that that’s Tony’s? “I was wondering where you got off to.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” Steve replies, relaxing now that Tony is here. “Got stopped by Miss—I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.”

Tony knows Steve well enough to know that that’s absolutely not the case. He’s just saying it to irritate her. But she doesn’t know that, especially because none of them are allowed to be in partial shift for tonight’s gala—Fury’s orders—and Steve’s shifter form is a closely guarded secret. So she doesn’t know that Steve’s just following his instincts as a cat. Tony does though, and he smothers his laugh in Steve’s shoulder.

“Whithers,” the girl says, irritation bleeding into her tone.

“Pleasure,” Tony says, making no attempt to hide the fact that he thinks it’s the opposite. He twines himself around Steve so that he can reach his lips for a quick kiss. “If you don’t mind, I have to borrow Steve here. Although, I really don’t care even if you do mind. See, he’s mine and I don’t really like it when people touch what’s mine.”

And then, before her face can do much more than register shock, he bats her champagne glass out of her hand.

[nikkoliferous]

Phase One: Avengers (Part Two)

Apparently I had so much to comment on this crappy book that I had to break this up into two parts (you can read part one here). No, I have nothing to say for myself. Lol

Let’s continue.

Clint Barton and Loki’s hand-picked strike team were in a stolen Quinjet with a faked S.H.I.E.L.D. call sign, 26-Bravo. That got them close enough that by the time the air-traffic officer on the Helicarrier knew something was wrong, it was already too late.

Whoa whoa whoa. I thought you said Loki didn’t care about the details. I thought you said such things were beneath him. Make up your mind.

With a last heave and twist, she freed herself from the fallen beam and ran. At that moment, the Hulk turned and saw her. She vaulted up a stairway and onto the next level. The Hulk swiped at the stairway and shredded it into scrap metal. Loki had gotten what he wanted. He must have been trying to time it so he could manipulate Bruce into becoming the Hulk right as his soldiers came to attack the Helicarrier. The Hulk would do at least as much damage from the inside as the rogue Quinjet could do from the outside.

Yes. Yes, he did. Lol

Natasha kept running, and the Hulk came right behind her. For a moment, she thought she’d lost him, but then he came at her out of the shadows, roaring. He was like walking rage, a single-minded engine of destruction. She shot a hole in the pipe over his head. Steam shot out of it into the Hulk’s eyes, stopping him for just the moment she needed to get a head start. She ran as fast as she could, but she knew she wasn’t going to stay away from him for long. He came after her, smashing through bulkheads and doorways like they weren’t even there and roaring the whole time.

Mood, though.

Steve got to the edge of the turbine mount about the same time as Tony. “I’m here!” he called out.

“Good,” Tony said, dropping into view and hovering in the Iron Man armor to survey the wreckage. He had the suit on, and Steve could hear his voice through the earbud microphone all S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel wore. At least that channel was still intact; if they lost communications, they’d be done for.

Convenient. Clint would absolutely know this, which means either 1) he's incompetent, 2) he's not as mind-controlled as we think, or 3) Loki allowed/arranged for his own team's semi-failure.Take your pick.

“What’s it look like in there?” Tony asked.

“It seems to run on some form of electricity,” Steve said.

Tony was shoving loose huge pieces of debris that prevented the turbine blades from rotating. “Well, you’re not wrong,” he said.

Steve fumed. He wasn’t here for technical support. But that was all he could do at the moment.

Ironic for Steve to call out Tony for being useless without his suit when Steve is apparently useless at anything other than beating people up. Lol

Tony stood inside the turbine housing, looking at the blades. He’d cleared most of the debris jamming the rotors. “Even if I clear the rotors,” he said, “this thing won’t reengage without a jump. I’m going to have to get in there and push.”

“If that thing gets up to speed, you’ll get shredded,” Steve said.

Hey hey hey now, I thought Tony wasn't the type of guy to sacrifice himself??

The Hulk stomped around the flight deck, roaring. He saw Thor and swung a fist twice the size of Thor’s head. Thor caught it in both hands, straining to hold both the Hulk’s arm and his attention. “We are not your enemies, Banner,” he grunted. “Try to think!”

Now, where have I heard that before...?

In answer, the Hulk punched him through the wall.

Jealous.

Thor got up and watched the Hulk coming after him. Now this was a fight! He held out a hand, waiting for Mjolnir to return to him. Mjolnir smashed through another wall and reached Thor’s hand just as the charging Hulk came within striking distance.

What's a little bloodlust between friends, amirite?

The Hulk caught the hammer, and a fierce grin spread over his face… then he toppled backward and Mjolnir pinned him to the floor of the hangar.

None but I can lift Mjolnir, Thor thought. Not even this giant.

Yes, yes. You're very special, Thor. We're all super impressed, promise.

“You like this?” Coulson asked, meaning the gun. “We started working on the prototype after you sent the Destroyer. Even I don’t know what it does.” He powered it up, and rings along its barrel glowed bright orange. “Want to find out?”

But Loki wasn’t there in front of him. Thor saw it too late to do anything. That Loki was an illusion… and the real Loki was behind Coulson.

Lokiception.

“You lack conviction,” Coulson said. He did not move from where he sat against the wall. Blood trickled at the corner of his mouth, and the enormous gun lay uselessly across his lap.

Of all the things Coulson might have said, this was perhaps the one Loki expected least. I have moved worlds out of conviction, he thought. Made bargains with beings who snuff out planets as an afterthought. “I don’t think I…”

"bargains"

“Tasha,” he said. “How many agents did I—?”

“Don’t,” she said. “Don’t do that to yourself, Clint. This is Loki. This is monsters and magic and nothing we were ever trained for.” Better than maybe anyone on the Helicarrier, Natasha Romanoff knew you couldn’t blame yourself for things you did while you were brainwashed. All you could do was try to heal and get things right the next time.

OH? DO TELL.

“Yeah, takes us a while to get any traction, I’ll give you that one,” Tony said. “But let’s do a head count here. Your brother the demigod, a Super-Soldier, a living legend who kind of lives up to the legend, a man with breathtaking anger-management issues, a couple of master assassins… and you, big fella, you’ve managed to piss off every single one of them.”

“That was the plan,” Loki said with a grin.

“Not a great plan,” Tony said.

YOU'RE RIGHT, TONY. IT'S AN OBJECTIVELY TERRIBLE PLAN. NOW ASK YOURSELF WHY HE WOULD DO THAT ON PURPOSE.

“You’re missing the point!” he said, and his tone got sharper. “There’s no throne, there is no version of this where you come out on top. Maybe your army comes and maybe it’s too much for us… but it’s all on you. Because if we can’t protect the Earth, you can be sure we’ll avenge it.”

Weeeeeell...

With those last words, he tapped Tony on the chest with his scepter, just has he had Hawkeye and Dr. Selvig. Nothing happened. The Arc Reactor in Tony’s chest countered the scepter’s effect.

Loki tried it again. “This usually works.…”

“Well,” Tony said, “best-laid plans. You know the saying.”

Uncomfortable with mild swear words and dick jokes, I see. Lol

Look at this!” Thor shouted, holding Loki and forcing him to gaze out over the destruction in the city. “You think this madness will end with your rule?”

“It’s too late,” Loki said. Thor thought he was beginning to understand what he had done. “It’s too late to stop it.”

“No,” Thor said. “We can. Together.”

Loki looked him in the eye… and then betrayed Thor again, stabbing him in the side with a knife hidden in his sleeve. Thor dropped to the ground, clutching the wound. “Sentiment,” Loki said mockingly.

OH MY GOD. HE'S MOCKING HIMSELF, YOU ABSOLUTE KNUCKLEHEAD. I swear to god, this author sat down and went, "Hmm. How can I systematically erase any and all complexity this character possesses so he's as generic a villain as possible?"

CASE IN POINT:

On a bridge, Cap huddled behind a destroyed car with the Black Widow and Hawkeye. “Lots of civilians trapped up there,” Hawkeye said, indicating the nearby buildings. A flight of Chitauri went over, and Cap noticed something different about one of them.

“Loki,” he said. He was shooting at the civilians fleeing through the streets. “They’re fish in a barrel down there.”

It can be admittedly hard to tell because most shots of the Chitauri vehicles firing on people are from too far away to tell who's piloting... but I checked the clips from the Battle of NY and the only person Loki can definitively be seen firing at is Natasha. On another Chitauri whatever-you-call-them. Not even aiming for the street.

Thor was still watching the Chitauri zipping overhead. “I have unfinished business with Loki.”

“Yeah?” Hawkeye said. “Get in line.”

“Save it,” Steve said. “Loki’s going to keep this fight focused on us, and that’s what we need. Otherwise those things could run wild. We’ve got Stark up on top—”

Almost as if... according to plan...

Look, I have historically not bought into the full "Loki formed the Avengers so he could lose on purpose" theory because I feel that it contradicts the canon explanation that he was being influenced by the sceptre. But... you'd have to be an absolute moron to think he wasn't sabotaging himself, whether accidentally or on purpose. I suppose one could argue that just because it was amplifying his negative emotions, that doesn't necessarily mean it prevented him from working against his "allies". But if it wasn't affecting his actions at all, I don't know why they'd bother to confirm the theory as canon.

Also, like... according to this book, Loki is somehow targeting civilians and not targeting civilians at the same time ?? lmao

“Dr. Banner,” Steve said. “Now might be a really good time for you to get angry.”

Bruce was already walking toward the Leviathan. “That’s my secret, Captain,” he said over his shoulder. “I’m always angry.”

Same, tbh.

Thor reached the top of the Empire State Building and lifted Mjolnir. Storm clouds gathered and lightning struck down, hundreds of bolts reaching for Mjolnir. Thor turned the Empire State Building’s iconic spire into a lightning rod, gathering the force of the elements into it. Then he thrust Mjolnir in the direction of the portal. All the energy he had built up blazed out in a single forking bolt. It struck and destroyed every single Chitauri between the Empire State Building and the portal itself. Hundreds of them exploded and tumbled from the sky at once, including several of the Leviathans that tumbled down to smash into buildings below.

...so why didn't Thor just keep doing this for the rest of the battle? Too draining, or not exciting enough? Lol

Satisfied, Thor nodded and glanced over at the Hulk. Perhaps the scales were evened from their last fight against each other on the Helicarrier—

The Hulk shot out his left fist and smashed Thor all the way across the block-long gallery. Then it was his turn to look satisfied.

Jealous. Again.

Maybe that was just Loki, but Steve was starting to feel like the Chitauri were going to absorb every punch the Avengers could throw. They had to close that portal, or nothing was going to stop the invasion.

Well then. It sure is fortunate that Loki allowed Selvig to install a failsafe, huh?

Fury stood and listened to the World Security Council explain that they had decided to take the operation out of his hands. They were going to use a nuclear missile to destroy the Tesseract and close the portal—but at the cost of untold civilian lives. Fury protested as strongly as he could and one of the councilors cut him off. “Director Fury. The Council has made a decision.”

These crazy motherfuckers would have killed so many more people than Loki it's not even funny.

...and tbh, it probably wouldn't even have destroyed the Tesseract, so they would have killed them for literally no reason too.

The Hulk paused, confused.

“You are, all of you, beneath me!” Loki raged.

Not yet, sir, but I would very much like to be. 😏

She knelt next to him and said, “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know what you were doing.”

Selvig digested this for a moment and then said, “Actually I think I did. I built in a safety to cut the power source.”

Of note and as alluded to previously:

1) The mind control over Barton and Selvig was not absolute either; therefore, if they are not responsible for their actions over the course of this movie, Loki is not responsible for his either.

2) If The Other could hear everything Loki was up to, it's very likely that Loki could hear everything Barton and Selvig were up to as well. Meaning that, at a minimum, he knew about the failsafe and did nothing about it.

The missile had a lot of momentum built up, and Tony’s Mark 7 suit was not operating at full capacity after the amount of energy he’d expended in the battle already. It was no easy task to get the missile angled up sharply enough to clear the tallest buildings in Midtown—especially Stark Tower. That was where the missile seemed to want to go. So, Tony thought, the World Security Council is jealous of me, too.

Look, I get that he's mostly just being witty, but seriously... this dude is out here accusing Loki of being an egomaniac? Lol

He got underneath the missile and angled it upward, straining against its stabilizers, which tried to keep it on course. But slowly he forced it up, and once he got its warhead pointed at an angle, pushing it into a steeper climb got easier. A little.

Steve Rogers’s voice broke his concentration. “Stark, you know that’s a one-way trip?”

So... you're admitting you were wrong, then? 🙃

The Avengers looked up. On the roof of Stark Tower, Natasha said, “Come on, Stark.”

They saw the explosion through the portal, brilliant as a new sun. There was no way Tony could have survived that.

I was wrong about him, Steve thought. When the time came, he did make the sacrificial play.

Thanks, Steve. That's really all I wanted.

Loki had just gotten himself put back together enough to get out of the hole in the floor. Painfully he dragged himself toward the door. Never had a mortal damaged him as much as that green monster. He would be healing for a long time.

He's literally in better shape now than when he came through the portal. And the author made zero mention of his health there.

But heal he would, and then he would have his revenge. Even though the portal had collapsed and he had lost the Tesseract. Even though his Chitauri army was destroyed. Loki would show the so-called Avengers they never should have opposed him.

Raise your hand if you watched Avengers and thought Loki was thinking about revenge right after getting Hulk-smashed. Why aren't any of you raising your hands??

Seriously, there are two emotions I felt from Loki at the end of Avengers Assemble: relief and anxiety. I have no idea why Alex Irvine is so intent on turning him into a boring, one-dimensional villain, but it made this book absolutely insufferable to read.

Anyway, that's it! I hope you all found this as entertaining and cathartic as I did. Lol

↩️ Back to Part One

[revengeisourlullaby]

If I Never Knew You (End)

Warnings: 18+, honestly this one barely has anything crazy going on it in. It’s the resolve to everything, a little angst, 

a/n: I hope you all have enjoyed this little series I wrote up. I had a lot of fun writing it and maybe will do more in the future. Maybe I’ll add onto this and further the story line but as of right now I’m pretty content with the outcome. As always, asks/requests are open! And if you want to be tagged let me know! Have a wonderful day :)

Word count: 1.9K

Loki x female!reader

Eyes fluttering open, it was dark in your room. The moonlight peeking in from underneath the curtains in your bedroom. Sitting up in your bed you reached over into your bedside table and pulled out a box of matches. Grabbing the candle sitting atop your table you lit it to move around your room without tripping over anything. Reaching the door it seemed that everyone had slipped into their own bedrooms for the evening. 

Perfect.

Closing your door once more you moved toward your closet and picked out a dress more suitable for the evening. It was blue-gray with thin straps holding the beauty together. The neck had extra fabric that mimicked sleeves and trailed down the front of your chest. Silver embellishments were delicately placed down the bottom of the skirt and pooled at the bottom of your feet when you wore it. Setting the candle back on your nightstand, you shimmied out of the dress Loki so kindly gave to you this morning and put on your new one. Hoping that new clothes would rid you of some of the residual energy of the day.

On the front of your bed was a grey knitted shawl that you made months prior. Finding your pair of silver sandals you tied the straps around your ankle and blew out the candle. Letting your eyes become adjusted to the dark you gently moved the curtain careful to not make any noise when pulling it back. Sticking your head out the window you made sure that the coast was clear still and your father hadn’t come outside for something. Seeing the still night you grabbed your shawl and gingerly slid out your window. Wrapping the shawl around your head you began your possible last walk to the golden tower you were hoping to once be yours.  

You had to walk silently but also with a purpose. Judging by where the moon sat in the sky, Loki would still be awake at this hour. Once stepping out of the vicinity that was your home you felt safer to move more quickly. Almost running, you made your way to the garden that Loki found you in the very first time you met. Unknowingly, tears were rolling down your cheeks. The day's events coming back to haunt you and the beautiful memories you shared with Loki come to the forefront as well. It was becoming too much to bear all too quickly.

Slowing down you balanced yourself on your knees and took slow deep breaths. Finally catching your breath, you saw a figure in the distance walking toward the garden. You froze but didn’t want to look too suspicious so you slowly walked into the garden and sat on the marble bench. Turning your back, you faced out toward the water that surrounded Asgard and hoped that the figure you saw walking in the distance would never come. But to your dismay, you heard the ground crunching behind you. Shuddering you hoped they would just walk on by leaving you to be alone. 

“Are you alright?”

It was Loki. What was he doing out?

You were surprised nonetheless but also extremely relieved. 

“Loki? What are you-”

You cut yourself, your emotions bubbling up in your throat. A knot formed and you were trying your best not to let tears spill over but Loki’s presence broke the dam you desperately tried to keep together.

“Y/N, what’s the matter? Why are out here running across the ground and alone?”

Loki finally made his way to face you head-on and upon placing his finger under your chin he saw the remnants of the tears staining your cheeks. 

“Who hurt you? Did something happen at home?”

“Y-yes, but I just...I’m beyond overwhelmed and seeing you just kinda pushed me over my limit. My apologies.”

“Darling, look at me.” 

Placing his hands on either side of your shoulders, he took one hand and wiped another hot tear streaking down your face.

“If you don’t tell me what’s happened I can’t begin to help you through anything. So, walk me through it. We’ve got all night.”

He smirked at you. Trying to make light of the situation, something he’s always had a knack for. Sighing, you let out a choked laugh finding the strength within you to speak to Loki about everything.

“Well, I told my parents. And my mother was surprisingly accepting of us and the idea of it all-”

“-Which is good! So why the crying?”

“Well if you let me finish...My father is the one who gave me a hard time. And to top it off, they had a suitor in there at the dining table to meet me. So on top of him completely disregarding my happiness and what my life means to me, some poor bastard had to hear it all firsthand. It was just wildly embarrassing.”

“So...we have one out of two blessings. Well, that's better than nothing.”

“Yes but Loki I’m not even supposed to be here right now. My father at the top of his lungs said that I’m not to see you again until his mind is made.”

Loki’s hands traveled down your arms and rested on top of your hands.

“Did you tell him about, well you know..”

“Yes and I think that is our only saving grace right now. Without that, I don’t think he would’ve even considered a second thought.”

You sighed, buried rage now coming to the forefront

“And the way he spoke about you, he wouldn’t even let me defend you or explain myself. Just continuously cut me off. Gods! If only he knew. If only he cared to know the love and passion we share with one another. But I’ve never had the luxury of him truly listening to me. Always been the afterthought and he doesn’t understand that with you, you’ve always made me feel centered. Never off balance and you’ve given all and more I could ever ask for in a partner. Loki I just can’t bear to lose you. I just can’t.”

“Come. Stand up Y/N.”

Loki held your hands tightly as if to tell you there was no way he was letting go. Reluctantly, you stood from the bench and trailed behind Loki. He led you to the ledge of the garden, getting a better look out at what was Asgard. The moonlight painting both of you beautifully and the roses framing your body eloquently.

“Look out at the sky. What do you see Y/N?”

“The stars, the moon shining bright, and freedom for lack of a better term.”

“And what stands out to you the most?”

“The stars. The way the shine in tandem with the moon. It makes for a beautiful image that I don’t think I could forget.”

Tapping on the back of your hand, you turned to face Loki

“The stars cannot exist without the moon my love, the same way our love cannot exist without one another.”

You knew his words meant well but you couldn’t help but sniffle at them. It almost felt like a goodbye of some sort.

“Yes, but Loki-”

“-Ah ah. No ‘buts’. Listen to me. Everything that has happened between us I wouldn’t trade for anything. If I never knew you I would have known how precious life can be. If I never knew you I would never have known what unconditional love felt like.”

The tears in your eyes have now since faded, being replaced with unbelievable wonder and complete and utter love. Loki’s eyes held such sincerity that you felt you needed to speak up sooner or you would look like a fool, but he beat you to it.

“In this world that’s full of fear, rage, and lies, you showed me the truth of what life could be. And you showed me it with such luster that I couldn’t imagine anything else. And when I look into your eyes I know you feel the same, so please, Y/N, dry your eyes. None of this would have been possible without your radiant shine and love for life and for that, I am so grateful to you.”

Words failed you but you wanted to let him know that you were still in this till the end. Gazing up at him you looked down and placed your face into his chest, wrapping your arms around him in a tight, unsuspecting hug. Pulling away from him you finally felt that words could be formed and you could properly voice your thoughts. You stood closer to the ledge and looked off into the distance before speaking. 

“I thought our love would be so beautiful and somehow make the entirety of Asgard burn with admiration. I never knew that hate and fear could be so strong and leave us in the dust waiting for answers that may never be given.”

Turning around to face him you looked up into his eyes again and his hand rested on your lower back.

“But still my heart is saying we were right and I can’t let that go. I never will. For if I never knew you, I would have never known this love that we’ve created. I found you when I was meant to and I’m forever grateful for the moments we have created.”

“Y/N I want you to know that there is no moment I regret. With you, I have finally learned what it means to live with purpose. While I don’t think our time is gone just yet, with you I have lived at last. There’s no avoiding that. I’d be lost forever if I never knew you.”

A bittersweet smile pressed against your lips and you brought his face down to yours. A kiss that was searing but with affirmation and probity. You felt at home in Loki’s arms and he felt the same. The two of you would be taking this hurdle by storm and ensuring that separation would not be a variable worth considering. Loki pulled away and stepped behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist and his head resting atop yours. Rolling it to the side he spoke once more,

“You know this isn’t goodbye right. Just a small bump in the road.”

“I know. Considering my mother was on board it’s only a matter of time, I just want to know for sure when that time will come. My father just makes everything hectic.”

“Buut you have me, and always will. So when you need not only relief but comfort I am here for you darling. He’s not going to lock you up forever, eventually, he’ll tire of ignoring his only daughter and will regret his decisions. Trust me. Just harbor a bit of patience.”

“I’m not sure what I would’ve done without you in my life Loki. Everything seems possible with you.”

Bringing your hands up to rest on his you spoke again,

“I love you, Loki.”

“Y/N, I love you more than you could envision and I will be counting the days until I get to call you my wife. Formally at least. Because principally, you already are.”

The two of you began swaying in each other's arms enjoying the silent company between you two. Within time you wouldn’t be restrained from your lover, but at this moment you wanted to soak it all in. Imagining your life together and what could be. You knew you couldn’t stay out for long, not wanting to risk your father’s temper or your sanity. But while you could enjoy this moment, you made sure to bask entirely in the seraphic ambiance of it all.

_______________________________________________________________________

Taglist: @mad4marvelloki​ @lightmelikeamatch​

[alorenawrites]

On Words and Meaning

So I've been thinking a lot about how Loki is being discussed and the words used, particularly by Hiddleston, given his bent for using literary language in his descriptions. There are three words I want to touch on in this little post, one of them definitely rooted in his usage.

So the first I want to touch on is the term "romance." We've heard (often from Hiddleston), that Loki is, at heart, a romance. I think there's a dimension of the discussion missing in these conversations in that is important to consider.

To the layman, a romance is simply a love story, sometimes with a sexual undertone. But in the literary sense, a romance is a much deeper genre. I want to consider that this layer may also be present in Hiddleston's intent on using the term in describing the story arc. It certainly is in mine, as someone with a fascination with literary form and also with an English degree who has spent way too much time exploring genre.

So firstly, we need to define "romance." From literaryterms.net:

I. What is Romance?

In the strictest academic terms, a romance is a narrative genre in literature that involves a mysterious, adventurous, or spiritual story line where the focus is on a quest that involves bravery and strong values, not always a love interest. However, modern definitions of romance also include stories that have a relationship issue as the main focus.

II. Examples of Romance

In the academic sense, an example of a romance is a story in which the main character is a hero who must conquer various challenges as part of a quest. Each challenge could be its own story and can be taken out of the overall story without harming the plot.

Example 1

A knight who wishes to prove himself by recovering a stolen heirloom from an enemy may find himself attempting to make his way through a dangerous wood filled with thieves.

Once he has accomplished this challenge, he may find himself climbing a tall mountain on which a group of people are in trouble. He would save the group somehow, and then move on.

Then the final stage: the enemy’s kingdom. There may be a fair maiden whom he meets and somehow helps or rescues, or perhaps she helps him.

But the fair maiden is not the focus of the story – his quest is the focus. Each story can be taken out, yet each builds the hero’s strength to face his final quest. These stories tend to be serious rather than humorous and touch on strong values.

In considering this, I've thought about Loki's arc as a quest that does, indeed, involve the discovery and exploration of strong values with a three part quest, though I don't think the quests entirely stand on their own. The overarching theme is about Loki discovering his sense of self- his quest to become a full person, not just a trope for the universe to exploit so others can reach their better selves. I divide the show up in to three quests. The first, in episodes 1 and 2, is Loki finding a sense of purpose in the new world- his quest is to discover who this new variant is and where they are hiding. This is resolved by the end of that second episode. The second arc takes place in the next two episodes- Loki discovering his empathy for others is the continuation of the overarching personal development plot, while his quest is to discover Sylvie's goals and to uncover/share the truth behind the TVA. And in our third section, episodes 5 and 6, we get the culmination of the personal growth arc in his ultimate discovery of different facets of himself (illuminated by the different elements of self shown in the multitude of variant Lokis) while the quest is to uncover who is in control of the Sacred Timeline and why. The differences in colour palettes, settings, tones, etc. between the three episode pairings is a part of how I started to distinguish my thoughts on each. And regardless of the visual distinctions, I most definitely see the entire arc as exploring strong values and bravery, though the bravery is multi-layered, showing not only the visible bravery of facing down an apocalypse, Alioth, etc., but the internal bravery of challenging one's self and digging deep into discovering who one really is. This is a theme of queerness that I see lingering in this series- discovering who we are is a process, not an outcome.

I think that this definition of a romance, in the classical sense, is a little oversimplified, as there is often a theme of discovery of self or improvement of self along the way. In a Gothic romance, themes of "the people are the real monsters" come into play (Crimson Peak is an excellent example of this)- there may be elements of the supernatural, but the real thing of which the viewer/reader should be afraid is the person behind the curtain. Gothic romances also often do include a love story arc, but it is often deeply flawed on some level and often also includes some sort of sexual or romantic awakening, often by a female lead, that leads to the discovery of whatever darker is taking place (Crimson Peak turns this on its head in that it is Thomas' awakening with Edith that leads to his turning point and Edith's realization that the Sharpe siblings are the monsters, not the ghosts in the hall). The themes of discovery of self, or of the fortitude of moral values, or of the journey of a person's development, play into both a Gothic romance and its foundations in a classical romance.

So. There's part 1 of this ramble.

On to part 2!

The next word I want to examine is the term "relationship" and its companion, "love." Now, mind you, I come at this from a queer perspective as a demisexual, demiromantic individual, so these two words are ones I've spent a LOT of time pondering, in the quest to define my own identity.

We've heard the term "relationship" tossed around so often with only a romantic implication attached, but in truth, this word is so much more broad than this. You are in a relationship with your barber. You are in a relationship with your cat. You are in a relationship with a spiritual advisor, a professor, your best friend, your partner. Just because it is so heavily used in this way doesn't mean the relationship is only an intimate one (though intimate relationships are also not inherently sexual or romantic in nature, either, so let's remember this as well). Now if we break down what a relationship is, it's just a consistent interaction with someone based on some common interest or goal. It's a remarkably benign word. Its connotations, however, take it in a multitude of directions.

So let's look at it through the lens of an intimate relationship and add in the component of love. We'll start with just a blanket statement that love is not only one single thing. It isn't just romantic. It is our family, our friends, our pets, pie, the colour blue, that feeling of perfection when the waves of a warm lake brush over your calves...love is embedded in the experiences of these things. We love them. Love it as vast and broad as relationships. We love places, people, things, and experiences. We love ourselves (or we try to learn to).

In my world, through my particular brand of queerness, love changes in intimate relationships on a regular basis. I love my partner dearly. But on some days, that love is to my best friend, while other days, it is a romantic love and on others, sexual expression may be involved, but they may overlap in different ways. Sexual expression is independent of romantic attraction and the degree of each isn't tied together in any way. If we can separate these things, I think we can see the relationships in our everyday lives in different lights and with greater complexity.

I also think that looking at these things through the lens of diverse sexual and romantic experiences can inform how we interpret the Loki x Sylvie pairing and why some of us just aren't bothered by it (though certainly not the only reason people aren't).

We've been told Loki loves Sylvie. That much is beautifully clear. But love (and being in a relationship) doesn't automatically mean that 1) both parties are experiencing it in the same way, 2) both parties have the same approach or priorities, 3) the level of romance is necessarily the same between the people involved, 4) that sexual attraction exists at all.

Sometimes a kiss is a form of communication and not tied to the want to shag someone.

So this is where my interpretation of this particular pairing comes into play. I do see the story as a romance, in the classical sense, but also with a slight streak of the more modern sense involved. The focus is still on the quest, even when the love story emerges. And that is where I see the priorities of these characters and their definitions of the relationship differing and I analyze it through these different dimensions of love and relationship orientations.

Loki actually embodies one of the traits I've seen listed for demisexuals- we hold our friendships extremely close and because we hold our friendships the way we do, it isn't uncommon for us to end up with crushes on our best friends (and no, they don't generally develop into other forms of relationships, but they could). This is the phase in which I see Loki by episode 6. He has formed this intense bond, unlike any other it seems he's had, and his heart is breaking over the thought of losing her to her own rage. All he wants is for her to be OK, remember? This isn't a selfish action. But I think it is significant that while he tries to stop her, he's not the one who initiates the kiss. All his actions here are ones that a close friend would also do for their best friend. Like, I'd try to stop my besties from inadvertently destroying the universe. I'd even throw down over it. And for the exact same reasons- the risks are too great, we need to think, and I want them to be OK. Almost everything Loki does throughout his growing closeness to Sylvie is something I'd do for one of the people I've told I'd defend- as in, I literally told some of these people, "anybody messes with you, I'll cut a bitch- just tell me who and I'm there."

So because of all this, I don't see this relationship as sexual in any way. Romantic? Possibly. But not necessarily. Even being in love with one another doesn't mean a relationship has to have a sexual component.

Looking at Sylvie, I see her also as having found companionship with Loki, but her overriding goal is, ultimately, not to bond with someone- it's her mission. And she has sacrificed her entire life because of the TVA to this mission. She tells him repeatedly, in one way or another, that the mission comes first. Yes, she does care about him, but I don't think the way she cares about him is the same as the way he cares about her because they have differing priorities and needs (and hence why she feels betrayed by him when he tries to stop her). Or at least she hasn't allowed herself to express that. When she falls to the ground after she's killed He Who Remains, I think we get a glimpse of what Loki meant to her- she is alone, she grieves, and there is no meaning left to her story. She's done what she dedicated her entire life to and the person who could have given it other meaning is no longer beside her.

I still don't think that the first thing they would do upon seeing each other is suck face and have wild sex. Would that bother me? No, not really. I can headcanon something different than what actually happens, I'm fine with that (just look at all this glorious headcanoning happening right here!) I'd like it to stay a romantic friendship (queer platonic relationships for the win- they're squishes!) because I don't think we hardly ever see those types of relationships and queer platonic relationships are incredibly beautiful and powerful and yes, based on love and maybe even romance, in their own way. They are defined by the people in them, as are all relationships.

And now to address "but she kissed him!"

Yes, she did. And I've kissed my partner when there wasn't romance involved because I wanted to share a moment, to express something deeper than I had words for (yes, even on one of my aromantic leaning days), or just because it's fun. And it doesn't have to "match" up with how the other partner feels it, either, so long as the message itself is what comes across. This is how I read the Sylvie x Loki kiss. It was a message of worthiness. Loki's entire arc, including in that scene, is in discovering if he's anyone different than the monster he's made himself out to be (and encouraged others to see him as). He tells Sylvie that he can't be trusted, falling back on the habit of characterizing himself as the professional liar, the one who can't form those attachments which are built on trust. He also identifies her as someone incapable of trust in that moment, which I think is also a projection of how he sees himself. He tells Mobius he can only trust himself and the show slowly shows Loki coming to trust others, but in this moment in the Citadel, he's falling back on a different perception of himself.

This is where the kiss comes in, for me. Sylvie isn't trying to tell him she'd jump him right then and there, if things were different. Sylvie is trying to tell him that she does trust him, that he can be trusted, and that he is worthy of the affection of a friend, even if she can't have him in her way. She is prioritizing her mission, yes, but not without giving him some sort of reassurance, in her own way, that this rejection isn't personal. That he isn't too broken to be loved. It doesn't have to go into romance (not saying it couldn't, just saying it isn't a requirement). It doesn't have to go into sexual relationship territory.

Maybe I see this so vastly differently because of my experiences exploring gender, sexuality, and romantic orientation. Maybe I see this so differently because at this stage in my life, I would absolutely kiss a friend if I felt something so heavy was going to break them. I have a friend I say "I love you" to every time we talk on the phone or video chat- we've been together for 20 years. I've got photo proof of a snuggle pile of friends when I was a young adult. I've shared a bed with a friend with no reason other than that we didn't want to sleep on the floor and why not. I've had friendships that were awkward to start and intense once they got going that are absolutely still important in my life. I've had crushes on friends that have faded and just shown me another dimension of what it is to love someone. I've watched adults who struggle to make connections to other people discover those moments of awkward "how do I do friend mode?" and come out stronger for them, with that huge sense of victory hidden behind a small smile they don't want to share with anyone else quite yet.

I see so much possibility in how we interpret a television show reduced to "it's a romance and that's sick and incest and he wants to fuck himself!" and it just saddens me that so many people have such a limited understanding and experience of the depth and breadth of human relationships and of how people love one another.

[imagine-loki]

Everyone's Problem

TITLE: Everyone’s Problem CHAPTER NO./ONE-SHOT: One-shot AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump ORIGINAL IMAGINE: After the Chitauri attack on New York, imagine Loki being sentenced to public service on Earth, specifically in aiding people who got hurt during the attack. His magic has been limited to only be enough to aid keeping Odin’s spell in place so he wouldn’t turn blue. His task is to help people with special needs, to do house chores, help them get around, do their grocery and keep them company while they recover. He is assigned to a girl who ended up blind after one of the Chitauri shot at her. + Imagine HYDRA has been quietly watching Loki living a quiet life on Earth. They decide it’s finally time to bring him into the fold. It doesn’t exactly work out the way they intended. RATING: T

NOTES/WARNING: Hi, y'all! I haven’t written in a fair while, so I did a quick little one-shot with Charlie to get myself back into shape. It’s probably rough, but cut me some slack! If you’re interested in reading other Charlie stories (there’s a bunch!), you can find them on my masterlist here. Language, mentions of violence, attacks and blood, one v angry human, and typos probably.

XX

“Loki, it’s a stomach ache. It’s nothing. I’ll be fine.” Charlie remarked for the fiftieth time that morning as she gently shoved the darling Asgardian she called a boyfriend away from her.

Loki huffed for about the same number time. “According to your interweb healers, it could be an autoimmune disorder, an ulcer or gastric cancer! Forgive me if I’m a little worried about–”

“WebMD is not a qualified physician, Loki Odinson! Settle. The fuck. Down!”

Though her tone was no-nonsense, a smile was tugging at the left corner of her plump lips, evidence that she was not nearly as cross as she portrayed herself to be. When she brushed past him, Loki circled his arms around her waist and tugged her into his body, peppering her face with kisses as she made noises of weak protest. Despite his best advances (and really, he was doing his best work here) her laughter began to trickle down and out of existence.

“Loki, stop,” she said firmly, though he was only half listening.

“Stop!” The Prince froze, holding her loosely in his arms. Her tone wasn’t exactly what had caused her to stop his affectionate attack, though. It was the fact that her whole frame had stilled, and her eyes danced from spot to spot as she concentrated on something. “Can you hear that?”

Loki tilted his head and focused. It took a moment, as out of practice in paranoia as he was, but eventually he heard the very distinct pounding of military-grade rubber on linoleum. “Boots.” Quietly, he righted himself, taking silent, measured steps around the furniture, leading Charlie along with him. “Come on. Bedroom. Quickly.”

No sooner had he gotten those words out, the front door slammed open, leaving Charlie to yelp behind him, a handful of his gray heather t-shirt keeping her anchored to his frame. As Loki saw it, there were three men in the immediate vicinity, waving odd-looking guns that bore the signature of the Chitauri. These were not aliens, though. They were humans, who somehow found a way to retrofit the technology to make more powerful weapons. Many had been foolish enough to try it throughout the years, but only one entity bore the skull and tentacled monster on their insignia.

HYDRA.

This was definitely not a great time to still be without magic.

At once, he tried to school the rhythm of his heart, knowing that Charlie was distinctly in tune with the beat and would worry if it seemed like he was in a panic. With delicate fingers, he stroked at her curls, intending to burrow into his side. “Put your arm around me, tuck your head in, don’t let go. Got it?”

She offered little resistance to the order, humming her consent and wrapping her arm tightly around his torso. The feeling gave him comfort, funnily enough, that he was still the warrior that he had trained to be in his youth, despite having lived like a spoiled house cat for the last couple of years. Where in his youth there was glory and blood to be won, today there was only one objective–keep Charlie safe. Loki moved the second the intruders set their scopes on him. Reaching to his left, he grabbed a handful of kitchen knives which would have to do in this pinch and engaged with a growl.

Charlie whimpered, her legs struggled to keep up with his. She could not anticipate his movement and was mostly just being pushed and pulled around the floor while Loki seemed to be skillfully weaving like he was dancing. It also didn’t help that with every jerk of her body and awkward moment, there was the sickening sound of injury filling her ears. In one very distinct occasion, she could feel the breaking of some sort of bone reverberate through her own hand as Loki delivered a blow. Surely, it would be a lot easier for Loki to fight if he didn’t have to worry about Charlie behind him, and the awkward shuffle he had to do to make sure she was never exposed to any of these intruders took significant mental acuity.

When the three in the room had been dealt with, Loki reached for one of their weapons and Charlie’s mobile. He wasted to no time in moving them back through the bedroom door and locking it. Surely, more men would come.

“Stark!”

“Loki, I am, er, dealing with something right now!” The sound of bullets and flying mortar filled the line along with FRIDAY’s voice in the suit. “I’ll need to call you back!”

“Loki.” Charlie’s voice was small and trembling beside him.

Sighing, Loki wrapped his free arm around her and pulled Charlie into his chest. “I have you, love. Don’t worry.”

His lips pressed into her crown. A little bit of battle had shaken away the rust of his instincts and he could feel the distinctive prickle of enemies closing in. He prayed quietly to any entity that would bear to hear his prayers that they would be left alone. There was more noise beyond the door and Loki was left to coo Charlie into silence. He understood her fear, everything to her was a surprise, doubly so when she was scared and couldn’t bring herself to concentrate on her surroundings.

“I’m going to need you to run to the bathroom and lock yourself there, dove.”

Her hazel eyes zeroed in on him with rage-filled acuity. “You’re insane if you think I’m leaving you.”

“Darling, I cannot protect you if I’m busy minding you from getting hurt!”

Her eyes widened. There was panic in her empty gaze if the fidgeting of her fisted hands was anything to go by and it pained him to think that he could not even offer her an empty promise. “No, please! Please, don’t leave me. I–I can’t deal with it if you’re not with me.”

Loki smiled, sighing at the sweet ache of her words on his heart, and cupped her cheeks, dusting them with speckles of others’ blood. “You are braver than this, Charlotte Camden.” His thumbs brushed over her bronzed cheekbones affectionately. “I know you are. So you go and keep yourself safe and I will–”

The bedroom door rammed open with a deafening crash of cracked wood and rained splinters over the couple.

“Go! Go now!”

Charlie reluctantly disengaged, taking a running leap towards the bathroom door and slammed it behind her. Her ear pressed up against the wood to hear the scuffling. It sounded like a bigger force had come in and Charlie swallowed the panicked yelp threatening to bubble up her throat. Loki was a great fighter, but without his magic there was little for him to do if he was incapacitated. All she could do was hope that he was faster, stronger, better than these intruders.

And that’s when she heard it.

His voice.

Screaming.

Screaming like he did when he had a nightmare.

Screaming like when he remembered the blood and gore that he caused and the damage he had done.

Screaming like when he discovered that the extent of his monstrosity went beyond a lineage he had been lied about and the fickle lies he had been fed by a tyrant.

And then she heard it again.

And again.

And again…

And just when she thought her heart could take no more, she heard a body thud onto the ground and the shuffling stop and she feared the worst.

And then her bracelets activated.

Nearly a year of having the damn things on her and she had forgotten that they served any purpose other than setting off the metal detectors everywhere she went. The nanites built up around her in one swift wave. It took Charlie a moment to orient herself back to the seeing world. The colors on the screen still gave her a headache, her eyes still were unfocused, but that was due to her nearsightedness more than anything else, but it was still usable. And the updates Tony had made to the AI over the years made it easy to navigate through the controls.

She kicked the door open at once. Five figures turned back to her while another three were trying to get Loki’s annoyingly heavy body onto a cot to wheel him away. There was blood on his shirt, wounds seeping the dark treacly liquid from stab wounds used to subdue him, he looked pale, but his chest was still moving air and he was muttering deliriously under his breath.

He was alive.

So every one of them now had to die.

The gauntlets whined as the blasters charged and knocked them clean out of their boots. She supposed Tony didn’t think she would ever try to blast anything at full power, but lo and behold her rage was transcendental. They tried to restructure, protect the ones trying to take Loki away while fighting her off. Bullets ricocheted off her armor, letting her forge forward, blasters pumping out energy and leaving a trail of crumpled bodies. Taking a run, her body propelled off the ground, landing with a loud thud just in front of the door and cutting off their escape.

“Put. Him. Down.”

Rifles came up to point at her. Seven in total. They fired in unison, and she raised her arms, flinching instinctually from the projectiles that were intent on ripping into her armor. Charlie’s teeth grit tightly as she waited for the jolt of bullets to knock her backwards. They never came.

I thought it might be helpful to unlock Loki’s magic from the bracelets, the AI spoke into her ear.

When she blinked up, a blanket of green held the bullets in place, swirling in the ether of his magic. Her breath caught. This was definitely not something Tony had mentioned the last time she went in for a tune-up. He had failed to mention that the dampener Loki wore, implanted just under the skin of his bicep was feeding directly into the nanites or that there was any way to access the power. What was stranger was that the magic even listened to her, in the first place. By Loki’s tales, it was untamable force and most sorcerers never got very far without proper instruction. This was most odd.

Guns cocked and reloaded, breaking her out of her reverie. With a flick of her fingers, the bullets turned and resumed their trajectory, delivered back to sender. Another flourish, she disposed of the ones carrying the medical backboard with Loki in it and he fell to the carpeted ground with a groan.

Headache in full swing, she ran to his side, pushing away bodies to fall to her knees beside him. Nanites receded from her hands to touch his cheek.

“Loki. Babe, look at me.”

A wry smile curled his lips. “I am. I’m just very tired.” He chuckled, ending it with a cough and a groan. “Well, that answers the question where has my magic gone all this time?” He blinked a little longer each time as the darkness threatened to drag him down.

“Don’t close your eyes. Please. I need to get you to Tony’s.”

He giggled a little deliriously. “Magic suits you, petal.”

“Jesus, I really do need to get you to Tony’s.” Nanites back over her hands, she pulled his long frame into her arms and heaved. Even with the armor, he was decidedly heavier than any human she had ever met. For a second, she debated going out the front door, but seeing as her apartment was pretty much totaled, anyway, she burst through a window and into the New York skyline.

X

Loki blinked awake to the sounds of Charlie berating someone to within an inch of their life. He smiled, settling back into the covers with a grin despite the obvious pain radiating from just under his ribs and the dull ache in his skull. He peeked an eye open to see Stark, actively cowering backwards, away from her tone, narrowly avoiding her walking cane whenever she gestured wildly.

“It would have been nice to know how to activate the damn thing before Loki got fucking stabbed or I felt absolutely sure that he was dead because you put in a life or death trigger on the damn suit! And don’t get me fucking started on the fact that I’ve been carrying Loki’s magic for the last year and had no fucking clue about it!”

“I’m sorry! I was trying to keep you from playing with the suit for funsies instead of–”

“WE ALMOST DIED AND YOU WERE BUSY WITH YOUR OWN HYDRA ASSHOLES! WHAT WERE WE SUPPOSED TO DO? WAIT FOR YOU TO GET YOUR ASS KICKED BEFORE–”

“Charlie, love,” Loki hoarsed, and the tirade immediately quieted. Charlie rushed over to the bedside, briefly tripping over a chair leg before clambering onto his cot and covering his face with kisses. “Dove, I’m bound to be disgusting at the moment,” he protested weakly, but still pulled her closer by the waist.

“I don’t care. I love you.”

“I love you, too. My savior.” He cupped her face in his hands, absorbing the warmth from her beaming smile. “Glorious. Truly glorious.” He ran his fingers through her curls, bringing them back into shape from their crumpled form. Clearly she had been sleeping here with him and not necessarily keeping up with brushing–that was usually his task, anyway–but her crumpled clothes and dark circles under her eyes belied the worry she felt for him. It made his stomach warm several times over.

“I found your magic.”

He chuckled. “I recall. You can keep it safe for me.” He looked briefly at Tony who was pretending not to smile in the corner. “Do we know what happened?”

“Looking for you, buddy boy. They were a little disappointed you couldn’t do the hocus pocus stuff, but they caught onto the problem pretty quick.”

“I’m the problem,” Charlie muttered, snuggling into his side.

“Mmm, what a lovely problem to have,” he whispered before kissing her crown.

“Look, I’ll talk to your old man and see if we can’t get your sparkles and pixie dust ban lifted–”

“Don’t bother. I can teach Charlie how to use magic if you give her access. He said I couldn’t use seidr, not that I couldn’t teach someone else to wield it.”

Tony looked apprehensive, wincing slightly at the suggestion. “You sure you want to give Live Wire there that kind of ammunition?”

“Oh, if they don’t want to allow me to use my power, that is fine. But I am making her everyone’s problem. Aren’t I, sweet?”

Charlie simply snickered, leaving Tony to groan loudly as he stepped out of the hospital room.

[aliypop]

And So It Starts

Wordcount: 2,063 

Warning: ANGST and I guess Spoilers maybe

Authors notes : I wanted to do a big story to introduce my new character Astrid Sodotirr that I made for Loki and I really really hope you guys like her.

"I'll tell you jail is no fun." One of the women around the table remarked, "Agnes, you've been to jail?" the familiar-looking redhead said, sitting across from the lady who was now known as Agnes. "Once, in Monopoly." she laughed as they soon looked at their new "neighbor." She had a look of confusion on her face, almost as if she didn't belong. "Ah dear, what was your name again?" Agnes asked, watching as the curly brunette shook from her trance. "Astrid, Astrid Sodotirr." she looked at them both. The redhead had a look of discomfort while Agnes on, the other hand, was thrilled,

 " So Scandinavian." she smirked, "Interesting, unlike my husband, Ralph." she then turned, "Isn't that right Wanda," 

"Uh yes... Sodotirr like the goddess of chaos?" she asked as Astrid looked at her, her usual garments replaced with 80's activewear. "Yes, my mom was huge into Mythology ." she laughed, finding that her voice didn't even sound like her own. It felt like a fantasy world, something that not even her magic could comprehend. 

"My mother was just heavy into drinking." Agnes joked, 

"Well, girls, I should go get going. Ralph isn't going to rub lotion on himself..." She winked, leaving. Wanda and Astrid stood in the living room waiting for her obnoxious neighbor to walk away before orbs of teal and red appeared from their hands. "Why are you here..." Wanda growled, "We all saw you die..." Astrid dodged the red beam, 

"Do that again, Maximoff, and you'll join Vision and your brother!" she threw out a blast, "Then tell me how you broke in..." her eyes glowing red, 

"I DON'T KNO-" she stopped talking as the sound of footsteps marched up the driveway of the 80s household Astrid. began taking the green stone out of her sweatband, 

"I think they're here for you ..." Astrid whispered as one of them took the stone out of her hand, "Hey!" 

"Variant found..." one of the minutemen said as two others grabbed onto her, 

"On behalf of the Time-Variant Authority, I here by arrest you for crimes against the sacred timeline."

"She's the one making false realties!" Astrid snarled at the witch, 

"Hands up, you're coming with us..." 

"Glady..." Astrid smirked, lifting her hands striking two of the minutemen. As she ran up the block, Astrid was falling slowly to the ground in slow motion.

"She stole the Time sto-" Wanda tried to finish. 

"Reset the timeline..." the soldier said as they pushed the young woman through a portal, "Hey, I'm a princess, careful how you man handle me!" she growled, looking at the grossly colored orange walls. Taking her to what seemed like a receptionist desk as a young blonde man sat chipper and happy logging her into their system, "What species..." he asked,

"Asgardian... and she brought this with her..." the minuteman threw the stone on the desk.

"Oh great, another paperweight."

"Mobius, just get rid of it..." she sighed, cranking the lever as she threw Astrid inside the elevators, 

"When Loki finds out about this... he... he won't be... WOAH!" a robotic arm touched her vibrant pink leotard, "I'm not that easy." she grumbled as the machine told her to hold still, lasering off the tacky 80's clothing leaving her in absolutely nothing as a trapped door opened, 

Astrid was standing in front of a stack of papers dressed in a tan jumpsuit with TVA on it, "Please verify this is everything you've ever said." a voice said, startling her. 

"What in Odin's missing eye is this," she said, another piece added to the pile.

"Please verify this is everything you've ever said." he handed her a pin as she began signing away. Astrid began to think that maybe marrying Thor would have been a safer option than whatever this was. As another trap door opened, Astrid stood in front of a metal detector.

 "Please confirm to your knowledge that you are not a fully robotic being, were born an organic creature, and do possess what many cultures would call a soul." Astrid looked down towards the voice as her brows furrowed from the question, "Do people not know they're robots..." she asked, walking through as the machine took her picture, "Because if they didn't know..."

"They'd melt, now take your temporal aurora and walk through the door..." he sighed, watching as burst through as if she owned the place. Brown walls and bright lights paved her path while two-minute men watched and gestured to the take-a-ticket sign. "You have got to be kidding me," she mumbled as she took a ticket, walking through the guided path. Astrid watched as other prisoners went through, while others erased. 

"Next case!" Astrid walked through the door's benches full of people, " Sodotirr, Variant A1020, AKA Astrid Sodotirr, charged with sequence violation 7-20-80." the judge said, walking to the stand. Astrid grumbled in aggravation,

" And who would I have the honor of these charges being blessed upon me by? "

"The timekeepers..." The judge said. 

"Oh, the ones from the annoying clock lady..." she nodded as a few guards snickered, 

"How do you plead..."

"I've only ever pleaded to one man... on occasion a few women..." she winked, "Now if you excuse me, I really should be go-" she snapped her fingers as nothing happened, "I should be going..." she mumbled, "Hold on..." 

"If you're trying to use your powers, they don't work here now. However, I find you guilty, and perhaps pruning you would do just fine..." The judge hit her mallet until one of the minutemen whispered in her ear.

 "Pruned... I don't like the sound of that."

"It has come to my concern that... Ravonna will be your consoler. Take the variant away..." the judge sighed as Astrid breathed, the once minuteman guiding her towards the elevator. 

"I'm Ravonna Renslayer, now a Time agent of the TVA." she smiled at the variant. 

"How long have you been here?"

"Well, you know what they say. Time passes differently here in the TVA." she nodded, leading her out the elevator and around the halls of the main building, "How cute, you know you should've done your research before deciding to go after me..." Astrid said, turning her head as her curls bounced along. As the doors opened, the two sat in front of a tiny TV, "Trust me. We've been doing our research since you were deemed crowned and named princess and goddess." She laughed, putting the flash drive in as she started her file.  

"You know you're surprisingly good at complying..."

"Happens when you get told to all your life..." she mumbled. Astrid looked up at the screen memories played, some that were pleasant and some there were, "That one's a bit risky... If I were you, I'd skip it." she laughed, watching as the scene of a harvest festival on Asgard played. 

There stood Sif, Thor, and Loki. Astrid, who was taste testing ale, had been a little tipsy. She found herself clinging onto Loki. She appeared to be younger, no more than 16 at the time. Dressed in gold to "compliment": Thor, her only view was the Prince of Asgard. "What would your mother say if she found you so full..." Loki winked. Tilting her chin up, "She'd say absolutely nothing because you are not to tell her..." Astrid gave him a burst of laughter sweeter than all the honey of Asgard,

 "Oh but, I might..." he leaned in closer to her, their foreheads touching, "Then I'll tell Odin you took me away from Thor..." she whispered, stealing a kiss from him.

"You cheeky Minx.." he laughed.

"So why Loki..." Ravonna asked,

"Maybe I am..." she responded to the memory, clearing her throat, "Well, we understood each other..." she folded her hands together. "We were different yet so similar." her heart sinking in her chest as the last memories of Loki passed through, "Would you say your childhoods were the same..." Ravonna asked, not even savoring her answer. Before she could finish, there stood the memory of her mother locking her in a tower. 

"You are courageous yet dumb... you are a disappointment I wish I never birthed..." Amidala laughed, yanking at the chain around her neck. "Purposeless child.."

"I was born with a purpose!" she shouted at the screen, "One you'd never see coming, one of courage and rage..." a tear falling on her cheek, Ravonna made a side note in her notepad, " You know for someone who's such a threat you don't act like one..."

Astrid turned to face her, her hands gripping on the table, "Just a sad little girl who thinks she knows what she's doing... when her purpose was to die..."

"Everyone dies..." 

"Yes, but not how you did..." 

"First Wanda, now you." She laughed, "What is this about me, the all-mighty Astrid of Vanaheim dying," Astrid asked, "Perhaps, I'll leave you with what happened before you screwed up the timeline..." she smirked, walking out the spacious holding cell.

 "This is against the Norns for a mere puny human to tell me how I died." her back facing the screen as she heard an all so familiar scene.

 "The rightful king of the Ottenheim God of mischief do hereby pledge to you my undying fidelity..." 

"Loki, wait!" Astrid ran towards Loki, his dagger not yet lodging into Thanos. The two looked over as Thanos only laughed, "Undying, you should choose your words carefully..." he laughed, throwing Astrid against a jagged rock watching as he snapped Loki's neck sat Thor, who had to watch the two people in his life waste away in front of him. 

"Don't... leave... m..."

END OF FILE

"Some courage ... " Ravonna laughed, "It got you killed... why would you do that..." 

"I wanted affection... I wanted attention. I wanted to be perfect..." she sobbed in the corner, 

"That's pathetically sad..." Ravonna then got an idea, "But if you work with us, you can have those things. " she stuck her hand out, watching as the goddess looked up at her like a scared child looking for hope. 

"Alright, we've got a variant..." Mobius sighed, "Astrid is this one right... Astrid?" he questioned. Astrid ran over as she saw a Loki variant tapping him on the shoulder. He took out his dagger, placing it near her neck,

 "How attractive..." she rolled her eyes, 

"You insolent worm, I should feed you to the fish who feed upon Odin..." 

"Nice try..." she used her powers to immobilize him. Being a Time-Variant hunter had been slowly running her down. After all, she figured out how to play their game then attack, 

But it was getting hard when they were looking for Loki and herself. "Take him away..." she sighed, walking into the office back to Casey's receptionist office as her eyes laid upon a suspicious blue box. 

"Hey, you know what this is..." 

"Tesseract... and It's very dangerous and..." she picked him up by his shoulders, "By the Norns, if you do not tell me who was wielding this, you will wish to whatever God you pray to that they have mercy over you..." she threatened him.

"He's an Asgardian..." Casey gulped.

"Where did he go..." 

"Behind that door, I think..." Astrid tried to pull the lever, "You're not authorized!" he shouted, watching as she went to the elevator, only taking her back to her cell. Her ears pressed against the door as she heard Mobius talking as he usually did, but this time a voice she had recognized too well. 

"Where are you taking me... by the grace of, Astrid you'll."

"You really don't like talking much, do you, little fella," Mobius sighed, shoving him in the cell. What felt like hours was only minutes when Mobius felt like he had gotten nowhere at all. As Mobius left the cell, so did Astrid. Following the footsteps of and the smell of Asgard's finest colognes, she found herself at Casey’s desk: the draw open with scattered infinity stones showing just how powerful the TVA was struck a bit of fear in the Goddesses' heart.  

"Where was he..." 

"I don't know... But, uh, what's a fish?" Astrid laughed, "I'll tell you later." she laughed, walking back as a hand reached out and pulled her into a cell. 

Lips crashing on top of hers bodies pressed together. 

" Astrid, my love..." 

"Loki..." she asked.

[persephonesfill]

choke on me—chapter one

breathe me in (prequel fic)

chapter two

a/n: you all liked breathe me in so much that i got inspired to write a sequel! read breathe me in first before reading this fic. enjoy!

summary: After fending off an alien invasion, Tony Stark has one more obstacle to face; Steve Rogers. Steve believes that they have a connection which Tony is trying hard to ignore. After a moment of passion aboard the helicarrier, Tony can't seem to stay away from Steve as their lives grow ever more intertwined.

rating: Explicit, so explicit

warning(s):  tony has self confidence issues but what else is new, heavy smut

—————

Romanov’s eyes narrow when Tony and Steve enter the briefing room. 

The fact that they’re even having a meeting after a literal alien invasion makes Tony seethe. Bureaucracy never sleeps, he guesses. (He’s not pissed because SHIELD commandeered one of the rooms in his tower. Honest.) 

Tony arches a brow at Romanov. She’s a clever one, she has to be for her line of work, but Tony’s clever, too. He knows that to beat her at her own game, he has to play into it. 

“You’re late,” she says, in lieu of a greeting. Compared to the rest of them, she looks quite put together. Not a hair out of place, the cut on her forehead cleaned and bandaged. The archer—Barton, his brain supplies—sits with his feet propped on the table like a goddamn heathen. Tony doesn’t say anything, though. Barton’s eyes have a faraway look; the archer’s mind is on anything but social etiquette right now. Even Thor, who’s a supposed god, looks a bit winded with one hand on his hammer and the other propping up his face. Bruce is full-on asleep, not that Tony blames him, with a shock blanket strewn about his shoulders. 

“Fury isn’t here yet,” Tony says, sounding like a little kid arguing with his sister. 

Natasha hums, and her eyes flit over to Steve. “You two look friendly.” 

Steve, bless his heart, blushes but doesn’t say anything, and Tony’s just reminded of how he looked when he came down Tony’s throat; head thrown back, mouth open, and skin flushed.

Tony swallows down the sudden lump that arose in his throat and scrambles to come up with something, anything, to not blow their cover. He doesn’t want it to get out that he and Steve had got up to something.

“I was being a good host,” Tony says. “Steve wanted to see the tower. Or...what’s left of it.”

“It’s ‘Steve’ now?” she says with interest, and Tony curses her. He walked right into that one. 

Fortunately, Tony’s good at thinking on his toes. “Alright, you caught me, Romanov. I just spent the last half hour rocking Rogers’ world.” 

Steve chokes, and Tony jams his elbow into his side. Steve coughs into his arm and clears his throat. 

It’s got Romanov’s attention. And everyone else’s, apparently. Bruce is still sleeping, but Barton’s turned his eyes onto them, that faraway look receding slightly. Thor’s sitting up now, his arms crossed in front of his broad chest. 

Romanov’s eyes roam from him to Steve and back again before she snorts. 

Tony’s surprised she can even make such a noise. 

“Fine,” she says. “Keep your secrets.” Somehow she makes it sound like a threat. 

“You’re seriously gonna leave it, Nat?” Barton asks.

“You didn’t see them before,” Romanov says, leaning back into her seat. “Rogers wouldn’t touch Stark with a ten-foot pole.”

Okay, that fucking hurts, but before Tony can even open his mouth to argue, because what the fuck Romanov, Fury stalks into the room with his duster flapping behind him. 

If Tony weren’t so pissed, he’d make a snide comment about Severus Snape. 

“Are you two going to sit down, or should I reschedule this meeting?” Fury says. 

Tony grits his teeth but sits down (far away from Romanov), and Steve sits next to him. 

They elect Thor to nudge Bruce awake, who looks at them with bleary eyes and his hair askew.

Steve places a big hand on Tony’s thigh underneath the table. It feels like a brand. 

The meeting is agonizingly slow and painful, and Tony wishes they all would leave. Barton and Thor almost come to blows over what they’re to do with Loki, but in the end, they decide to let the Asgardian face punishment in his own land, far, far away from Earth. 

“It’s not fair,” Barton hisses, his hand balling into a fist when Fury leaves the room with Thor on his coattails to collect his brother. “His daddy,” Barton spits out the word like a curse, “won’t punish him.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Bruce says, stifling a yawn. “Odin exiled Thor to earth when he disappointed him.”

“Banner’s got a point,” Romanov says. “I want him to pay, just as much as you,” she admits. “But how would we even go about punishing a god?” 

“I have ideas,” Barton says, and Tony flashes back to Afghanistan, to three months of darkness and dampness and death, and he understands Barton’s rage. 

“I’m sure you do,” Romanov says. “Pass them along to Thor and see how he takes them.”

“Or better yet, tell me,” Tony finds himself saying. Four pairs of eyes shoot to him. If he were a lesser man, he would have wilted under the sudden attention. “I’ve got a bone to pick with Reindeer Games, too.” 

“Yeah?” Barton says, crossing his arms. 

“Seriously,” Tony says. “Now that we know that beings like Loki and Thor exist, shouldn’t we be prepared for others like them?”

“Stark’s right,” Steve says. Tony tries to hide the surprise on his face. Were his blowjob skills that good? Steve squeezes his thigh in response. “Who’s to say that Loki was the last of them?” 

Tony’s skin prickles. The others may have fought the Chitauri, but Tony had seen them and what lay beyond them. He had always been good at seeing the forest behind the trees. He had a feeling that they had barely scraped the surface with the Chitauri. There was something or someone more vicious, more bloodthirsty than any other foe they had fought combined. 

All of the Avengers seemed to sober at that thought. 

“Well, we’ll just have to be ready, won’t we?” Romanov says, her voice cutting through the silence.

“We also deserve a day off,” Barton says. “At least I do. I don’t know about the rest of you slackers.” 

That defuses the tension in the room, just a bit. Bruce lets out a light chuckle while Natasha just rolls her eyes. 

“Oh, please, if anybody carried this team, it was me,” Natasha says. 

Steve’s hand leaves Tony’s thigh and slides up to the small of his back. Some of the tension leaves his shoulders as he leans back into Steve’s touch. Tony doesn’t know what Steve wants. He doesn’t know if their little triste was just that or if there was room for more. Tony doesn’t like not knowing things. But he’ll let Steve have this, for now.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I didn’t see anybody else carry a nuke on their shoulders into an interdimensional wormhole.” 

He waits for the snide comments, the jeers, the disgust to cross their faces but instead...instead they laugh. And it’s not a laugh of derision; Tony’s heard enough of those to recognize them. These are real, genuine laughs. 

“Fair,” Barton says, the corners of his lips quirking up. 

“No, not fair! Only two of us can fly,” Romanov says. 

“Can Thor really fly?” Bruce says. “I feel like it’s more of a controlled fall. He throws his hammer and lets the weight of it take him where he needs to go.” 

“He’s in the air, he’s moving, as far as I’m concerned, it’s flying,” Barton says. 

Tony and Barton end up arguing the semantics of flying over a finger of Tony’s best scotch, Bruce occasionally chiming in, Romanov and Steve looking on in amusement. 

They’re annoying, Tony thinks. They’re annoying and loud and destructive and—

Tony is starting to like them. His feelings had always crept up on him like a lion stalking its prey, only pouncing when he least expected it. He was starting to like them, even Romanov, who he was still kind of pissed at for her earlier comment. But he didn’t blame her. Why would Steve want to touch him? Tony had practically thrown himself at him.

“He pulled you in,” his mind supplies, trying to be helpful. “He pulled you in, and he kissed the living daylights out of you.”

But maybe Steve had been desperate? Desperation drove men to crazy lengths, including sleeping with your...enemies? That wasn’t right. It held too many negative connotations, and despite their rough start, Tony didn’t think he would ever fight against Steve. Rivals? Or was that too petty? Just what the hell were they? 

The state of his and Steve’s relationship (if he can even call it that) nags at him. The others start making their leave until Steve and Tony are the only ones left. 

The boardroom feels like a matchbox with Steve so close to him with no buffer. Steve’s making himself useful and tidying up the papers and glasses strewn about the table. Tony pours himself another finger of scotch, lets the whiskey burn his throat on the way down. He needed something to ground himself. His eyes follow Steve’s every movement like magnets. Heat blossoms low in his belly when he remembers how Steve had touched him like he was nothing but a toy for Steve’s pleasure. The thought shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does. 

Tony clears his throat, catching Steve’s attention. 

“Some meeting,” Tony starts and immediately wants to slap himself. He should just get to the point. Why even bother with small talk? 

“You’re telling me,” Steve says carefully. Always so careful. Except for when his hands are shoved down Tony’s pants. 

Tony shifts in his seat and hopes that Steve won’t notice, but of course, when do things ever work out the way Tony wants them to? Steve’s eyes track his movements with all the purpose of someone used to analyzing situations. Is that what Steve thinks is about to happen? A battle? 

“How are you feeling?” Steve asks, setting down a stack of papers. 

“Sticky,” Tony says, deadpan. They hadn’t gotten the chance to clean off after their little...excursion on the helicarrier. 

Tony expects for him to blush like he did earlier after his standoff with Romanov. But instead, the bastard grins at him. 

“My bad,” Steve says. “Any other time, I’m pretty good at uh, cleaning up.” 

Tony throws back the last of his scotch and tries not to think of Steve on his knees licking at Tony’s thighs and groin and—

It’s not working. But then Tony remembers Romanov; “Steve wouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot pole,” and any desire he had dies. He should nip this in the bud now. They are absolutely not having a repeat performance. 

“Good thing it was a one-off,” Tony says, hoping his voice comes off light and airy. “Otherwise, I’d be pissed.” 

Steve’s smile falls, and if Tony didn’t feel like an asshole before, he sure as hell does now. 

“Oh.” 

“Just a little favor between two pals, right?” Tony says just to dig the knife in a little deeper. “Let him hate me,” he thinks. “It’s easier that way.” 

“Right.” Steve clears his throat. “I, uh, guess I’ll get going.” 

Part of Tony wants to latch onto his arm, pull him through the glass and the rubble of his penthouse suite, and into his bedroom and never let him go. He stomps that urge down with steel-toes boots. 

“See you around, Steve,” he says as Steve makes for the door. 

Steve pauses at the threshold and doesn’t look at him when he replies, “See you around, Tony.”

*** 

Life goes on. Tony reunites with Pepper. Tony’s mansion gets blown up. He loses Pepper for the final time. 

And it’s fine, really. Being cool with terrorists blowing up your home and experimenting on you without your consent is a lot to ask of anyone, even if that person is Pepper Potts. 

Pepper kisses him on the cheek, and Tony knows it’s the end. 

“I’m sorry,” she says. 

“It’s okay,” he says, and he means it. Because Pepper is still his and he’s still hers, just not in the way they had originally wanted. 

So, he’s single and homeless, technically, but overall it’s not the worst year of Tony’s life. 

He thinks about rebuilding his mansion in Malibu, but something stops him. 

“New York?” Rhodey asks him over Skype, curiosity twisting his features. 

“Yeah,” Tony says, clutching a pillow to his chest. He’s currently staying at one of his vacation homes on the Amalfi coast. His bedroom has a perfect view of the sea. Every evening, he sits out on his balcony and tries not to think about how Steve’s eyes are the exact color of the Mediterranean at sunset. 

“Malibu feels like an old chapter of my life. I think I’m ready for something new.” 

Italy is lovely, but Tony is so lonely. He’s never been good by himself. 

Within a month, the renovations on Stark Tower are completed, and Tony makes his move to New York. 

It’s odd, living by himself again. Of course, Tony brought his bots with him, and he integrated JARVIS into all of his personal residences. Still, there was no Pepper to remind him of some upcoming awards ceremony, no Rhodey to get into trouble with. Happy went with him because wherever Tony went, Happy followed. Tony’s sure Happy would have followed him into battle if he could. But Happy doesn’t stay in the tower, and Tony doesn’t expect him to. He knows Happy has a life outside of chauffeuring (and he hasn’t missed the looks between Happy and Pepper whenever she’s in town. He’s happy for them.) 

That’s when he starts collecting Avengers like a kid collecting those little trading cards when Tony was in college. Digimon? Pokémon? It was something that ended in -mon, he was sure of that. 

Bruce shows up first, drawn to the idea of a bed to sleep in, a constant food source, and a (relative) lack of people shooting at him.  

Bruce brings warmth to his tower, where there had been nothing but the coldness of electricity and steel. Sometimes when their research aligns, they’ll spend hours together in Bruce’s workshop. They’re good for each other, he thinks. Bruce gets him to eat a real meal and even stops DUM-E from putting motor oil in his smoothies. Tony gets him to open up. He wants to get to know the man behind the Hulk. For a moment, they’re at peace. 

Then SHIELD falls. 

Things get more complicated after that. 

Steve and Natasha show up with Clint right behind them. They’re still healing from their injuries, but overall they’re okay. Aside from dumping hundreds of SHIELD/HYDRA’s secrets onto the world wide web. 

Tony takes them in because, despite everything that happened between him and Steve, he did offer him a place to stay. Tony’s not that much of an asshole. He’s not going to retract on that offer.

Besides, his tower is enormous, and he knows it like the back of his hand; it takes nothing for him to avoid Steve without making it obvious. 

However, Tony didn’t account for the sudden friendship between Steve and Natasha, the traitor. (He doesn’t know when she stopped being just Romanov in his head.) 

Natasha must have been trailing him to learn his schedule because Steve corners him right as he’s leaving his workshop to head up to Bruce’s floor. His fellow scientist was making curry, and Tony didn’t want to miss out before the other Avengers (vultures) devoured it. 

“Can we talk?” Steve asks, leaning against the wall with his hands shoved into his pockets. 

Tony stops in his tracks and immediately wants to do a full 180 back to his workshop and not come out for a good ten, twenty years. Stark Industries is in good hands, and Rhodey can take over for him the team, and he can live in his workshop like Gollum in his cave—

“Tony?” 

His eyes snap up to Steve. Right. They were having a conversation. Tony’s self-loathing can kick in later. 

“Yeah,” Tony says. “Sure. Let’s head up here,” he gestures to the living area situated by the staircase. This floor of the tower serves as Tony’s second home, an escape from all of his penthouse suite’s showy glamour and the lack of privacy on the communal floors. The penthouse suite reminds him too much of Pepper, anyway.

There’s a small but up to date kitchenette off to their right done up in polished mahogany, tan stone, and black appliances for whenever hunger strikes. Tony heads to the left with Steve following behind him. His living area also functions as a bedroom of sorts. Tony had invested in a plush brown leather sofa from a high-end Italian furniture manufacturer. Sinfully soft and draped in luxurious throw blankets, it served as both a sofa and his bed when he couldn’t be bothered to take the elevator to his penthouse suite.

In a strange role reversal of the last time the two of them had been alone, Steve grabs onto his wrist and pins Tony down with his stare. 

“We can talk right here.”

Tony swallows. “Okay. Sure. That works, too.” He looks down pointedly at Steve’s hand. 

Steve flushes but lets Tony go. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve starts. 

“No harm done,” Tony says coolly. On the inside, he’s trying not to scream. He had forgotten that Steve’s hands were so big. 

“I just needed to know…” Steve hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “Did I...did I do something wrong?”

And that, that makes Tony blink. 

Steve pushes on. “On the helicarrier...did I come on to you too strong? Because if I did, that wasn’t my intention at all—”

Tony holds up his hands. “Wait, what? That’s what you want to talk about? Steve, it’s been two years.”

“I know! I know it’s just...we haven’t spoken at all about...the thing, and you’ve been avoiding me ever since I stepped foot in this place.”

“I—”

“And don’t say you haven’t,” Steve says with a hard stare. “I’m old, not an idiot.”

“Okay,” Tony says. “Okay. I guess you could call it avoiding.”

“Why?” Steve asks. “I’d rather you just tell me.”

Tony sighs. He’s too old to be having this conversation and telling Steve the truth would just be mortifying. “Romanov hurt my feelings, so I pushed you away before you could do it to me,” sounds pathetic, even to his ears. 

“A half-truth then. A lie grounded in reality,” he thinks. 

“You want to know why?” 

A muscle in Steve’s jaw jumps. “Yes. I would.”

“It wasn’t your fault, trust me,” Tony says. “I just feel like maybe you didn’t want to jump headfirst into this,” Tony gestures between them. He won’t dare call it a relationship. “I came onto you out of nowhere and didn’t even stop to think about whether or not you were ready for...anything.” He’s talking in circles and what’s worse is that he knows he’s talking in circles. Every muscle in his body is taut, waiting for Steve’s reaction. 

“You blew me off,” Steve says slowly, “because you thought I wasn’t ready for...this?” He’s taken on Tony’s terminology. 

“You were fresh out the ice, Steve. I figured the last thing you needed on your plate was something like this while you were still getting used to the 21st century.”

“Tony,” Steve speaks his name so softly it feels like a caress. Tony wants to step back. He wants to put on the suit and fly to Malibu, to Amalfi, to anywhere but here. 

“Tony, I don’t regret what we did,” Steve says. There’s a determined light in his eyes. Tony feels like the prey again. Steve has always made him feel like he’s being hunted. 

“Okay,” Tony says, steeling himself. 

“I want to do it again,” Steve says. “If that’s alright with you.” 

Steve wants to do it again. He wants to fuck Tony again, and the scary thing is, Tony’s going to let him. Arousal pools in his belly as he lifts his head to look at Steve head-on. 

“Okay,” he says. His voice already sounds wrecked. Desperate. Then Steve’s on him.

Tony hates how he falls into Steve’s arms as soon as his lips meet Tony’s. He had thought once would be enough, just enough to satiate the burning in his blood. He hated being wrong. 

Steve’s kisses are sloppy, almost desperate, but if anything, it just winds Tony up more. It’s like he’s fallen ill, with a feverish heat spreading throughout his body in waves. His heart pounds so loudly, it nearly drowns out the words Steve murmurs when he finally pulls away from Tony. 

Steve’s face is devoid of all masks, his lips cotton candy pink against his flushed skin. 

“I did that,” Tony thinks with some wonder. “I made him this way.” 

“What?” Tony says, only a little dazed, or so he hopes. Part of him flinches at the thought of Steve realizing just how far this well of desire he has building beneath his skin goes for him. 

“Don’t run,” Steve says. His arms wind around Tony’s waist with all the finality of a lock clicking into place. 

Tony swallows, his brain trying to parse through the hazy cloud of lust that had descended upon his brain. Steve’s eyes are big and so fucking blue, he almost can’t look at them directly. 

“It’s like looking at the sun,” he thinks. 

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he finds himself saying. 

“Just one more time. Just to get him out of my system.” 

Steve’s eyes narrow like he knows exactly where Tony’s brain went, and isn’t that a terrifying thought that Steve can already read him so well. Steve doesn’t call him out. Instead, he kisses Tony. 

Steve kisses him like a thief, all greedy and ruthless, stealing his breath away. Steve walks them backward until Tony feels his legs hit his sofa. They stumble onto the couch, Steve lying on top of him, eclipsing Tony. 

Steve’s lips are on his again. He can’t get enough of Tony today, it seems. His tongue slips into Tony’s mouth, one of his hands running down his chest and into his pants. Tony arches into his touch, moaning into Steve’s mouth. Steve may be a thief, but in this moment, Tony is just as willing to give him everything he has. 

Steve’s hands are so big and hot as they palm at Tony’s length. It doesn’t take long for him to harden in Steve’s grasp. 

Steve works him over with quick strokes of his hand, breaking their kiss to murmur in his ear, “Come on, baby. Spread these legs for me.” 

Tony did as he was bid, letting his knees fall open. 

“That’s it,” Steve says. 

“Can I?” Tony begins, unsure of how to continue. He’d never been shy during sex, but what he and Steve were doing, as much as Tony stomped it down, felt deeper than a simple hookup. 

“Go ahead, baby,” Steve says. The pet name flows off his tongue like honey. “Tell me what you need.” 

“I want to touch you,” he declares. “Let me?” He looks at Steve and hopes his eyes look wide and sweet. He remembers how Steve had snapped the last time he had looked at him like that, the bruising kisses and the hard, almost punishing way Steve had gotten him off…

Steve gives him a crooked smile. Tony’s not...disappointed, per se, but he wouldn’t have minded it if Steve had lost control again.

“Go ahead,” Steve says. “Whatever that big brain of yours has in mind.” 

That’s all the permission Tony needs, and his own hands work at the fly of Steve’s jeans until he’s pulling Steve’s cock loose. Steve catches on quick and shucks his jeans down to his thighs. He yanks Tony’s sweatpants down in one swift motion. This is the most exposed Tony has been in front of anyone since his relationship with Pepper burst into flames. And listen, Tony knows he’s not ugly (he’d been named Sexiest Man Alive twice, up there with George Clooney and Brad Pitt), but Steve is the literal epitome of human perfection. It could just be the childhood trauma rearing its ugly head, but Tony feels small underneath Steve. Unworthy. Useless. He’s thrown back to the present when Steve rolls his hips and slides his cock against Tony’s. 

“Come on, genius,” Steve says. “Work with me.” 

Tony lifts his hips to meet Steve, and the hot slide of flesh against flesh leaves him gasping like a virgin. 

“Fuck,” Steve hisses. “Just like that.” 

They settle into an easy, almost instinctive rhythm, Steve thrusting, Tony rising to meet him. Their groins are slick with sweat and precome. Tony’s sure that if they had bothered to get some lube, they wouldn’t have lasted half as long. It’s like someone’s turned a dial up on his senses. Wherever Steve touches him, his cock rubbing against Tony’s, is like someone lit a bundle of matches. He’s so hot, he’s sure his skin is smoking. He can hear everything. The hum of electricity present throughout his tower if you listened hard enough, Steve’s muttered curses, the wetness of Steve’s cock rocking against his. 

“One day,” Steve says, picking up speed. “One day, I’m gonna tie you to your bed just like this. Get your thighs all wet and slick and fuck you until you’re coming all over your goddamn stomach,” Steve punctuates his words with a hard thrust, and that’s it for Tony. One more word out of Steve’s mouth and he’s done for. 

“Holy shit, Rogers,” he says, sounding breathless to his ears. 

“I’m not done, sweetheart,” Steve chuckles. “How do you feel about toys?” 

“Yes. Yes. Fuck, Steve, I could make them. Anything you want.” 

And he finds himself meaning it. He’d give Steve the sun if he asked. He tries not to let that scare him. 

“How about a nice vibrating cock ring, hmm? Slip it on you early in the morning. Maybe a long-distance remote to go with it, keep you hard and ready all day long.”

Tony bites back a cry, his cock jumping with arousal. “Fuck, Steve, yes, please, yes.” 

“Then don’t run,” Steve says, his voice sounding all dark and gritty. “Don’t run, and I’ll give you everything you fucking want, just don’t run away from me, again.” 

Afterward, Tony blames it on his approaching orgasm, but in that moment, all Tony can say is, “Yes, fuck, I’m staying right here.” 

They come together, oddly enough. Steve’s teeth sink into Tony’s throat, and Tony’s throwing his head back as his come lands on both of their stomachs, and it’s so. Fucking. Good.

Tony’s floating. He didn’t know when his Italian leather couch turned into a cloud, but he’s floating with Steve kissing the bite he left on his neck. 

They curl close together, uncaring of the mess cooling on their stomachs. If Tony has anything to say about it, there’s a nice joint shower waiting for them when they find the will to move. Steve places one final kiss on the bite. 

Tony knows what it is. A marker. A claim. He’s Steve’s for as long as Steve will have him. Tony’s willing to indulge him. For now. 

“Shower later?” he asks, his words thick and syrupy from post-orgasmic bliss and the sudden need for a nap. It’s a struggle to keep his eyes open, but he doesn’t want to stop looking at Steve’s handsome face. His perfectly coiffed blond hair is mussed. Steve’s skin has taken on a peachy, damn near radiant glow. “Nap first,” Steve says. 

“Steve may have left his mark,” he thinks. “But I left mine.”

[lonelyghosts-stuff]

Loki-Character Analysis (and Rant lol)

Idk if anyone will see this and I frankly don't care too much, just kind of ranting and venting. (for context I am not necessarily in the healthiest head space as of now so my emotions could be more extreme than they normally would be)

Loki's death is really hitting hard for me again. The fact he went from a mischievous kid who just wanted his father's recognition, to sabotaging his brother's coronation to lead up to defeating the Jotuns for his father and proving himself worthy as Thor, in the process finding out his life was a lie and that he himself was a Jotun who was abandoned, to giving up his life only to be found by Thanos to be threatened and manipulated (idc what anyone says, Loki was definitely tortured during his time with Thanos. How else could you explain how sickly and gaunt he looked when he first showed up in Avengers?) to losing his mother and protecting a mere mortal just because his brother cared for her, also willing to sacrifice himself for her and his brother, to finally having a period of success, only to witness his father die, see his home destroyed, and then ultimately get killed by Thanos as he tried to kill him to protect Thor.

He had an arc. He grew. And then he died. While we will get Loki in the new Disney+ series, he will never be the same Loki unless they find a way to implant the experiences of the prime Loki into this one. While I have no doubt he will be shown key points of his alter variant self's life, seeing them from an outer perspective cannot substitute for the experiences themselves.

Loki was such a complicated character who, while sometimes seeming inconsistent, was consistently inconsistent within the nature of his chaotic and mischievous character. He cared. He wanted recognition and to be viewed as equal to his brother. Along the way he got lost and found and twisted even more. Notice how in Thor 1, he never killed anyone other than Jotuns. While he did endanger other humans, he never killed them despite being easily able to do so with the destroyer automaton. And when it came to his brother, he had the perfect chance to blast him, but resorted to a backhand; and while that could have proven to be fatal, when it came down to it, Loki couldn't bring himself to do it the easy way. Deep down he still wanted to be on equal terms. That's why when Thor returned to Asgard, Loki kept instigating Thor, trying to rile him up so he would fight him. He ended up resorting to threatening harm upon Jane just to get his brother to treat him as equal and a worthy opponent. He denied familial connection to Odin and Thor, trying to convince himself that the reason he will never be viewed as equal with Thor is that he is a Jotun, the "monster parents tell their children about". In the end, when Odin still wouldn't show any more sympathy to Loki or try to reason with him, instead just telling him "no", Loki gave up. He was willing to accept whatever happened to him when he let go and he fell into the collapsing portal of the bifrost.

Cut to the first avengers, he is clearly very changed. He's sickly, gaunt, and weakened, needing support just getting onto the back of the truck for Clint Barton to drive him away on. His eyes are sunken in, he's greasy and slow, and borderline sociopathic. He clearly experienced something that turned him into this. We already know the scepter influenced his mind and that Thanos threatened him eternal suffering that would make pain look sweet if he didn't get the tesseract. But I steadfast refuse any statement someone could give me saying he wasn't tortured or manipulated by Thanos or his followers. Loki quickly goes in for the attack when he arrives on Earth, killing without hesitation or regret. When Thor confronts him on Stark tower, for even just the most fleeting second, he pauses. He knows what he's done and that he's gone too far. Even when he doesn't back down, he doesn't try to kill Thor. He simply, or, well, "simply" stabs him and runs off knowing very well it would take much more than that to kill his brother.

When he is brought to Asgard for imprisonment, his pride and guilt eat away at him. He refuses to acknowledge what he did as wrong to anyone, but he is very well aware of his actions the weight of them. The person who affects him the most being his mother, the one who always showed love for him and Thor equally. He tries to hide this knowledge, denying her being his mother as well since he is of Jotun blood, but he cares for her greatly still and can't help but feel guilty for how she sees him now. He still strives for chaos and when the Dark Elves invade, he mischievously points them in the direction of the throne room, not knowing their full capabilities, but living for the potential chaos to ensue. Of course this leads to his dear mother being killed. Loki is furious, broken, and lost. His actions have gone too far, causing the woman he loved the most and felt loved him more than anyone else to die. Thor can easily see through his illusions proving that Loki has shown his adoration for Frigga enough that even Thor knows of it. When they finally get to the Dark World, Loki tries getting under Thor's skin again, but also in an attempt to understand him. He prods at Thor's feelings for Jane and reminds him that her life is but a brief moment in their own lifetimes. They bicker and scuffle on the ride to their destination, but it is ultimately resolved by Loki's declaration that Thor can trust his rage, his rage at Frigga's death. When there, we see Jane in direct danger twice. Both times, Loki throws himself in harms way to protect her, seeing her both as vulnerable but also something that Thor cares for. Loki then proceeds to save his brother's life, being willing to sacrifice his own for him as well. Knowing his wound is not fatal, but also being fully aware of his skills in trickery and illusions, not only does Loki trick Thor into believing he is dead, but he also takes the opportunity to try to relieve his conscience; he apologizes. He then follows it up by saying that he didn't do what he did to make Odin proud or acknowledge him, not this time. He did it for the one who truly cared for him and showed it, Frigga. This gave Loki the opportunity to discreetly get back to Asgard and exile Odin and take his place. Now, Loki got the respect and adoration he felt he deserved. But it would only last for so long.

When Thor gets wind of Loki's antics, they both find themselves eventually facing down Odin and him passing away, but not before telling them that he's proud of them and loves them. Even Loki tears up here. He feels somewhat that it's his fault for Odin's passing, but he also feels empty after finally hearing Odin give him what he thought he always wanted. Hela arrives and Loki tries to reason with her; perhaps thinking he can relate to her and handle the situation. Unfortunately, Loki and Thor get separated for a while, eventually reuniting, but on opposite ends of the social class on Sakaar. Loki could easily continue to bask in his new status over Thor, but still decides to help him when h found him in the waiting area for the fighters (even though he eventually tried to betray him later when he realized he could regain what status he had and that he viewed escape futile and pointless with Hela still around). In the end, despite him having the chance to escape and run off, he returns to Asgard to help fight. He even proves key in defeating Hela as he revives Surtur, also grabbing the tesseract on the way. He doesn't hide. He doesn't show bitterness. He returns to the ship alongside his brother. (despite how much Waititi gave a middle finger to the writing and characterization of the characters, I am still trying my best to piece good Loki moments from Thor Ragnarok and fit it into Loki’s personality given that Ragnarok is considered MCU canon).

Thanos attacks. He has Thor in a precarious situation, threatening to kill him if Loki doesn't give him the tesseract. Loki tries to hold out as long as possible, knowing the consequences of giving it to the mad titan, but eventually yields when he sees no other way to save his brother; after giving it to Thanos, he immediately goes to Thor's side to protect him. When Thanos took down Hulk, Loki realizes the only chance they have to get out of there alive is to use his trickery. He proclaims himself Loki, prince of Asgard and, most impressively, Odinson. He accepts who he is. He acknowledges he is the rightful heir to Jotunheim, but he also knows that, even if not by blood, he is Thor's brother, and Odin and Frigga's son. Unfortunately, he rushes to action quite recklessly, potentially undermining the power Thanos has already with even just the two infinity stones he as acquired. Loki is killed. Neck snapped from the pressure of Thanos choking him. He died trying to protect his brother. Trying to fight for the good fight. Died at the hands of the man who twisted him in the first place and promised him suffering if he didn't deliver the tesseract.

Loki may have started out as a dark antagonist, then to a twisted villain, and eventually progressing to an Anti-Hero, but he died a hero.

This just breaks me. He was such a loveable and complicated character. He had many faults, faults he battled with every day. When it came down to it, he threw his own life down for his brother.

It upsets me he died so quickly and seemingly so pointlessly within the first ten minutes of Infinity War. But he also served a great, if I may, glorious purpose. He brought the Avengers together in the first place, and died trying to make sure another one of them, and his own brother, could live on to fight and stop Thanos.

Loki will always be my favorite character and hero and villain simultaneously in the MCU. And I couldn't thank Tom Hiddleston enough if I got the chance for his stellar performance of this fantastic and complicated character who helped bring the Avengers together, even if unintentionally.

[holderofthebowl]

Chapter Ten: If You Had But Asked

- Chapter One: In the Service of the Queen - Chapter Two: Peace Offerings - Chapter Three: Salve for the Soul - Chapter Four: Kings Guard - Chapter Five: Not a Door, but a Window - Chapter Six: Typical Æsir Arrogance - Chapter Seven: For Odin’s Sons Are We - Chapter Eight: A Demonstration - Chapter Nine: What the Gods have Joined, Let None Put Asunder -

Summary: The start of a multi chapter origin story for Loki x Sigyn in the Marvel Movie Verse which will incorporate both mythological elements and elements from her comic backstory. This takes place between the Avengers and Thor 2 during his imprisonment.

Author: holderofthebowl

Which Tom/Character: Loki

Authors Note: Well it’s been almost 5 years... hahaha sorry about deserting you all, in the middle of the climax and everything. Med school and then the first few years of being a real grownup with a big kid job, moving back to the states and 1000 other things in life and such. Anyhow, if you are new to this fic start at chapter 1 or you are gonna be real confused. Sorry if I’m a little rusty, but an update 5 years later is better than nothing :) Anyhow ‘So I made you some content, daddy made you your favorite open wide’ I hope you enjoy. 

Rating: PG, A slow burn but we’re finally there. A whole kiss in this chapter and everything. 

Sigyn’s slippers clicked with purpose as she marched down the marble steps toward the dungeon. She angrily whipped both her cheeks with her palms. Her tears had changed from mortified embarrassment to red hot anger. The long train of her heavily embroidered and laced wedding dress draped along the steps behind her. 

She turned the corner toward Loki’s cell. The scene there did not surprise her. Four Crimson Hawks were upon him. Two of them pointed their weapons at her dark haired bride groom’s back. The other two, were pinning him to the bed, one was clamping manacles to his wrists, the other leaned an elbow across the back of his neck, holding him in a kneeling position with the side of his face to the mattress. No doubt trying to pull from him the location of their missing comrade.

“Where is he?” Sigyn spat at her now husband, with a level of venom that startled Odin’s soldiers slightly from their own interrogation, as they all turned to meet her gaze. 

Loki beamed at her, speaking as though there weren't soldiers leaning on his neck. “Sigyn, what a fine ceremony that was, beautiful, I especially loved the floral arrangements. So very sorry I wasn’t able to stay till the end. By any chance, would you be willing to tell me how it went?” 

Sigyn ignored his question. “Where is he Loki. Did you kill him? Is he dead?” She moved closer to the force field in front of her, her hands clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. 

Loki chuckled “ I mean, one can only hope.” he said shrugging, The man above Loki snarled and increased the pressure on Loki’s neck causing him to wince. Sigyn pursed her lips before addressing the Odin’s men. 

“I demand to speak to my husband. Alone! Asgardian law gives me that right!”  Everyone in the cell froze. None had been there for the conclusion of the ceremony and for a single moment, the entire cell of men was shocked, including Loki. It was he that cut through the silence. A deep full laugh that reverberated down the stone hall, only slightly muffled with half his face pressed into his linen sheets.

Slowly the soldiers withdrew, undoing the manacles, letting Loki push himself into a standing position. He dusted himself off with dramatic flare, his face beaming. The Hawks lowered the barrier allowing Sigyn to enter. They shot her looks as if she had grown a second head, too shocked to be upset about the betrayal of their brother in arms. She walked past them trying not to notice. She doubted this would be the end of looks and side glances she’d receive, likely for the rest of her days on Asgard. 

Loki approached her arms out, as though he thought to embrace her. The sound of the slap reverberated across the cell. Loki took a step back, and rubbed his cheek, but his smile didn’t dissipate. “Where is Theoric?” Sigyn demanded crossing her arms. 

Loki let a noise of irritation slip from between his lips and rolled his eyes. He threw a hand up in a gesture of dismissal. “That’s not important right now. What’s important is...”

“It’s important to me Loki.” she cut him off. Loki ignored her plea 

“And Odin really let the marriage stand? Ha! I can’t believe it worked. I can just imagine the row that caused. Was my brother there? I didn’t see him in the crowd beforehand.” Sygin watched him start to pace, he was having a difficult time keeping the energy of a successful scheme contained. 

Her shoulders slumped slightly and she sighed. This was not working. She was going to have to find a different tactic. Why she thought insisting Loki do anything directly would work in the first place was beyond her. Threats and orders were not in the prince’s nature to obey. She thought a moment. “Well, I guess there is one benefit to him being dead..”

This comment stopped Loki cold, and he turned to her. “What benefit?” he asked. Good, he was confused. He hadn’t expected that. He didn’t like being confused. 

“I mean at least I won’t have to tell him.” she said shaking her head. Loki lifted a single sculpted black eyebrow. “You know, I won’t have to tell him how you tricked him into missing his own wedding day. How it caused a huge scene, humiliating him in front of the All Father and the entire court of the Æsir. And then, how in front of his family, and his friends, at his own wedding, I married that man instead.” She paused for effect, allowing Loki to contemplate that a moment. “You’re right, I’d rather not have to break that news to him. Can you even imagine how humiliating that will be?”

Loki was still for a moment, and then the corner of his mouth began to drift upward. “Oh, no my dear. You are right, that’s much better.” He turned and strode away to her toward the corner of the cell, addressing the Crimson Hawks who had been standing back, eavesdropping no doubt. “Tell Heimdall to cast his eye toward Svartalfheim. He should find your man there. If he didn’t die falling through the portal, or succumb to something on the planet.” Loki chuckled to himself. The guards left to find their fallen comrade. And they were left alone.

“Thank you” said Sigyn, some of the tightness dissipating from her chest. 

“Are you happy now?’ Loki asked.

Sigyn narrowed her eyes and stepped towards him “Am I happy now?” she parroted back her hand balling back into a fist. All her previous rage flooding to the forefront. Loki instinctually took a step back, his eyes flicking toward the hand that had slapped him with earlier. “You humiliated me, that was mortifying. That was possibly the worst thing anyone has ever done to me.”

Loki face contorted suddenly into confusion. “But, you said yes? You still married me?” 

“Of course I married you. If you had just spoken to me, but once, anytime during the months we’d spent together, before I ended up in front of the All Father. If you had given me any indication that...” the words were getting stuck in her throat now, fresh tears on her cheeks.  “If you had said anything, anything at all about how you fel...” she cleared her throat to choke back a sob. “But no, talking to me like a peer, a person would have been too difficult. Instead you come up with some grand scheme to get your way. Consequences to others be damned. You arrogant emotionally stunted child!”

“You wouldn’t have married him. If I had but asked you not to?” his voice was quiet. An innocent honesty to it as he searched her face, so profoundly uncharacteristic and sincere. 

Sigyn felt the angry leave her body, she let it go with a breath. “I wouldn't have married him.” her reply was simple. 

It was all she needed to say. He closed the distance between then so quickly Sigyn barely noticed and then his lips were on hers. He pulled her in tightly, arms warping around her back. She leaned into him, her hands finding his dark hair and kissed him back, just as hard.   

[gildedruinsarchive]

re;  thor post-endgame & his quest for damnation. 

after endgame, thor is traveling with the guardians and, occasionally, by himself. while he will say that he’s exploring the galaxy & enjoying his newfound freedom*,  he is searching for loki --- or,  more accurately,  for a way to bring loki back from the ‘dead.’ he is also looking for a way to restore asgard,  though this is not his primary drive. ( the odds that he can bring back asgard without loki are very,  very,  very low. he knows this,  but is still keeping his eyes open for a way to help his people. ) 

                               * it turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you. 

of course,  you can’t just bring back someone from the dead.  you also can’t restore an entire planet like it’s nothing.  if the infinity stones couldn’t return what he’s lost,  there’s not much hope that anything else will be able to.  thor isn’t optimistic as to his chances of success.  he does not believe he will actually bring loki back,  despite his best efforts. 

if he doesn’t think he can bring loki back,  why is he trying? there are a few reasons.  the most superficial is that he believes he owes the attempt to loki.  to give his sibling his all is a way of making up for his past failings. it is an apology for all the wrong he has done,  and the only way he can conceive of making things right,  when loki is gone. cutting deeper, the first time thor thought loki dead,  loki was suffering under thanos. thor wept while loki bled. in believing them dead,  he failed to protect them.  thor carries an immense amount of guilt about that ---- about how rescue was never an option for loki,  because thor was not searching for them.  if there is any chance that loki might be alive now,  then thor needs to find them,  for fear of them suffering again.  help will come this time. 

the five years post-snap,  he will not forgive himself for easily.  that loki might have been alone and waiting while he sat on midgard doing nothing of use is something that eats away at thor’s heart every day. he will not allow himself further delays once he sets off,  though his pace is necessarily slow,  given how little he knows about bringing a being back from the dead. sometimes,  all he can do is wander,  waiting for another clue to reveal itself.

how did he get here,  to this place of such desolate desperation? three times he’s watched loki die.  twice,  he’s gotten loki back.  though he knows better than to hope for a third reunion,  it is impossible for him to find closure.  how can he believe loki truly dead?  how can he give up on his sibling? every time he begins to believe that loki might truly be dead,  something changes his mind,  and the cycle of grief starts over once more. he’s locked into what he believes will be an eternity of mourning.  it is unbearable. he has to find a way to break the cycle,  because he cannot live with it anymore.

so off thor goes,  into the great unknown,  believing that he will not find what he is looking for. when he leaves midgard,  he does not believe that he will ever return.  he carries no hope for a future in which he knows happiness.  how could he,  when he thinks the resolution of this quest will be his death?  still,  he knows he cannot leave those he loves with this burden & this worry.  very,  very few people know that thor is searching for loki.  nobody knows that he does not intend to survive.  to those he says goodbye to,  he gives no indication that this will be a final goodbye.

if there is no hope of bringing loki back,  how will he know when he can finally lay this quest to rest? because as much as thor wants loki by his side again,  he wants to be able to rest,  too.  to set down his burdens,  and to no longer be so responsible for so much. since this quest cannot end in the return of his sibling,  it will end instead in thor’s demise. he will chase down every lead he finds until he can carry on no longer.  then,  he intends to walk into hel,  knowing full well that he will not walk back out.  

if he finds loki in hel,  he believes that there is a chance that they might break out. to trick death,  on behalf of both siblings  ---- it will be loki’s greatest feat yet.  thor believes them capable, but this seems a far off reality.  if he has found loki nowhere else,  what are the odds he will find them in hel?  and can they truly escape,  when the universe has at no other time been kind to them?  thor will not go believing this trip will secure his future.  instead,  he goes knowing that it will be an end to both of their stories. 

but what if the universe does smile upon these children of frigga one last time?  what if she allows them the chance to write their own endings?  what if thor finds loki,  someway,  somehow? then thor will rejoice in having a family again ; he will not let this second chance slip away from him. but he will also have to face his own self-worth and purpose, and will have to reckon with the self-destruction of the past years.  

for five,  six,  seven years,  he has imagined that having loki returned to him will heal his heart,  returning it to the joyful,  naive,  hopeful state it was before his first coronation.  putting so much on another being is deeply unfair ---- and thor will have to realize that it is up to only him to pull himself out of this state. he also has to reckon with the idea that he will never again be the person that he was,  and must discover his self & drive beyond being king of asgard and brother of loki. 

but what if neither of those things happen,  at the end of thor’s quest? what if thor does not die,  but loki stays dead?  for thor to stop searching without meeting his own end,  something drastic will have to happen. perhaps thor meets loki in some ethereal plane,  and it is closure enough.  perhaps the loved ones thor has left behind find him,  and pull him off this self-destructive path.  perhaps,  just when he hits the rock bottom of his grief,  he realizes that dying will not honor his sibling’s memory,  but that living might.  perhaps.  it is a world of great possibility,  and he might just wake up one day to see it.  

all of thor’s grief & rage & heartbreak & loss takes its shape in loki ; sometimes,  it’s almost tangible,  when the seiðr that lies dormant in thor’s veins gives the lost sibling form again,  for just a few seconds.  sometimes,  it’s in the strands of fate, gold and silver tangled together.  these stories will be told together,  until the end of time,  no matter what ending they might have.

[lokiodinsonofasgard000]

Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Interrogation

Prologue:

It was dark, a ringing in her ear forced (Name) to wake up. The light in the room blinded her as she closed her eyes as she noticed her hands were bound together with cuffs. A cough caught her attention as she opened her eyes and forced her eyes to adjust. “Glad you’re finally awake (Full Name). I must say...your record perceives you. Gone through multiple boarding schools of military orientated practices, a knowledge of multiple languages… skilled in weaponry and hand to hand combat; excels in far range sniping and close combat” spoke a man in a suit. (Name) glared at him as he sat in front of her with her file opened; photos of her when she was younger and through her young adult life. She saw a photo of her own father in the file “Father was a alchemist, and a professor of bio-engineering-” “Why not just get to the point and tell why I’m here” she snapped “Temper, temper. The plan was to obtain Loki and deal with him, however… we are looking for new recruits for the T.V.A” “...T.V.A? Like Tennessee Valley Authority? Well this seems a little odd what do they want with Loki?” (Name) snapped “No no no. As in Time Variance Authority we are an agency that monitors the realities throughout the multiverse and we attempt to keep temporal interference to a minimum” explained the man in the suit “Once again..what does this have to do with Loki? Honest the last person you want bouncing back and forth between time and space” “That is true...but he goes off on doing things in his own gain. If he wants to stay alive he will obey”

Silence in the interrogation room. The two in a stare off (Name) was unsure as to why this time police wanted Loki to work for them. Granted he is very powerful and is the only one that she knows is able to hardness any power if he puts his mind to it.

***

Loki was awake; the rage in him was boiling as he found himself worrying for the Midgardian agent. He knew it would prove to bite him in the back for she is now considered a weakness. But the anger for having been capture was just an add on “Loki of Asgard. Burden with glorious purpose. Welcome to T.V.A. We have a proposition for you that you cannot refuse” said a man in a suite, the same one that approached him before he succumbed to darkness. “I highly doubt that” Loki glared “Mmhmm. Join our organization; Time Variance Authority or T.V.A wishes to create an alliance with you to take out some disruptive individuals that wish to disrupt the balance of the multiverse time continuum” spoke the man as he sat in front of the restrained Loki “And if I refuse?” Loki asked with boredom “Death...Life imprisonment” shrugged the man in the suit. Loki was not amused and scoffed as he smirked at the man “If I do take on this proposition… I will burn this place to the ground”

The men interrogating (Name) and Loki stood up grabbing the files and looked at them “Do you accept?” A pause as Loki smirked and (Name) stayed with a stoic emotionless expression “Convince me”

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(Name) was escorted to an elevator still restrained and told to keep the doors open until he got back, if she tried to escape the neck piece would shock her unconscious. She complied, not wanting to be tazed yet again. She not even five minutes had passed when she saw Loki walk in with the man she was being interrogated with. Loki gave her a look almost asking what was wrong and she just shook her head “So where exactly are you taking us somewhere to kill us?” Loki spoke nonchalantly as (Name) send him a glare “No I’m taking you both somewhere to talk” spoke the man in the suit “Well I don’t like to talk” Loki glared as (Name) scoffed “But you do like to lie. Which. You. just. Did” spoke the man as he looked to Loki “and we all know you love to talk… talkie talkie”

Loki and (Name) shared a look then to the man in slight shock “How long have you been here?” (Name) asked “Well it’s hard to say. You know time passes differently down here in the T.V.A” shrugged the man in the suit “What does that mean?” Loki asked as the man pats Loki’s back to get him out of the elevator and mentioned a hand for (Name) to follow behind.

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Chapter 4: Mobius M. Mobius

@bepo-is-sorry​