#loki/this blog is the only character to stand the test of time

[lowkeyorloki]

random question i was curious about: what inspired you to start writing fanfiction?

fun question! this got a bit long, so i put my answer under the cut ^.^

i started writing fanfiction in general when i was 14. it was a rough year for me as i was "homeschooled" but really, i just sat at home all day. fanfiction got me writing, which meant my brain got some exercise/use and it also took up a big chunk of my day (which again, was great because i was just sitting in my room for hours on end). in addition, actually posting my work led me to find friends and other authors in the fandom, and that's probably what got me to continue writing - it gave me connections and interaction with other human beings during a time when i was very isolated. i've also always liked to write, and so crossing over from my own short stories or creative essays to fanfiction was very natural. fanfiction was not the beginning of my proclivity to writing, it was a product of it, and so the transition was very smooth and made sense.

for loki specifically, i've always loved his character. as i've said, i was cast as him in a play when i was 10, so when Avengers came out (when i was 11), i was super sympathetic towards loki because i felt like i knew him. i'd also studied norse mythology, and so i knew all the backstories about how odin had been cruel to loki and i felt it wasn't fair. again, this just drew me to loki. Avengers was also the first PG 13 movie i was allowed to see besides the Harry Potter movies, and the first 'adult' movie i saw in theaters. i got SUPER into it - i mean holidays full of avengers legos and action figure sets into it. but my parents wouldn't let me see any other marvel movies, so after about a year the novelty went away. when i was 14 and alone in my house for a year straight, i watched thor and liked it enough, and watched the dark world and wasn't interested. during both movies, i did really like loki, but the interest didn't go anywhere because 1) i was afraid i wasn't supposed to watch the movies, and didn't want anything about them on my search history and 2) i thought fanfiction and fandom was only something for cartoons, so again, nothing happened for a few years. it's actually funny i thought that, because looking back, i interacted with the avengers fandom on my ~ipod touch~ a few times when the movie came out, i just didn't know it at the time.

anyway! this is all to say i have an established relationship with loki as a character. cut to 2017, and my family is in a different state and we have a foreign exchange student staying with us who likes to see movies and won't eat anything except sad unseasoned meat, fries, and movie theater popcorn. so, we all went to see thor ragnarok. i think the last marvel movie i'd seen at that point was age of ultron, so i was really walking in blind. i didn't even remember that loki 'died' so when he showed up i didn't really have a reaction because i just assumed he was going to be in the movie.

well, as you all know, ragnarok is not only my favorite thor movie, but it's one of my favorite movies of all time. i quickly became invested because ragnarok is an easy movie to enjoy, it's more humorous and on the ant-man side of things, it has characters that i have background knowledge of, and it had loki in the goddamn black suit. at this point, i was 16 and realized that tom hiddleston, specifically as loki, is a very beautiful man. and when a few weeks after i saw ragnarok, and i still couldn't get mr loki and his obvious sensitivity and love for his father and brother and also him wearing that suit out of my head, i decided it was time for a good ol' fashioned "loki x reader" search on tumblr (at this point, i was aware that fandom is not only limited to cartoons and that there are imagines for literally any character out there).

and i did not like what i found lmao. i couldn't really find any fics at the time that weren't massive blocks of text, and i just couldn't see myself in the readers. so i ignored that and began coming up with little scenarios in my head just for myself. the problem is, when i do that, i have to get those scenes out on paper because if i don't, i'll just think about them with no end.

(this such a long story i'm so sorry i doubt this is what you wanted) but! i very soon got distracted because i began dating my ex girlfriend. but then we broke up a few months later and it was a nasty breakup. and so, i did what i do when something goes wrong, and i retreated to my head to hang out with fictional characters. and there was loki, waiting for me. so, in march 2018, i needed to get all these loki scenarios out of my head, i wan't finding content about him that i personally vibed with, and i was wanting that positive interaction i knew fanfic could bring because my ex was making my life shitty. and so, this blog was born.

tldr: i write because i inherently make up little adventures or relationships with or between characters, and i am very very picky about fanfiction and will fill the gaps with my own work when necessary. also in the case of loki i just have a lot of history w/him.

whew! sorry for such a long answer. thank you for the ask <3

[lokifantasies]

Healing PART 1

Summary: You and Loki try to help Jade the best you can.

A/N: Remember! The more you guys interact with the characters' blogs, the more you can help influence and shape the story and dialogue!

Character(s): Loki & Jade

Read the Mischievous Life series here!

Follow Jade, Loki, and Reader!

Taglist! (click here to join a taglist!)

Strikethrough means I can’t tag you for some reason.

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True to his word, Loki's there when Jade wakes up – having not shut his eyes for a moment while his daughter slept the best she could.

However, you and Loki made a decision during the night, via text, that Jade needs some kind of professional help.

"What?" Jade scoffs as Loki tells her that he's taking her to see a therapist. "Dad...no. Hell no!"

Loki gives his daughter a sympathetic look. "Jade...we just want what's bes -,"

"No," Jade harshly cuts him off. "You just want me out of your hair."

The god sighs in frustration. "No, Jade," he argues. "You know damn well that's not true." Loki approaches his daughter and places his hands on her shoulders. "I can't stand seeing you like this...do you understand that I had to physically stop you from hanging yourself?"

The sixteen-year-old scoffs and turns her back to her dad – forcing him to let go of her. "It's just funny that you think I'm actually going to speak to some stranger."

Jade gives her dad the silent treatment the entire way to the doctor's office – angrily staring out the window – feeling disgusted with Loki's and your decision. Loki bites his fingernails the entire way – knowing that Jade is beyond angry with him, but he tells himself that you and he are doing what's best for her. Loki sits with Jade in the waiting room until her name is called. Begrudgingly, Jade gets up and walks towards the stranger that she's supposed to talk to. Jade being Jade – of course, she does nothing of the sort. The teenager sits on the large, comfy couch with her legs crossed – taking out her phone to scroll on social media and talk to some of her online friends about how angry she is with you and Loki. The therapist, whose name is Dr. Alice, talks to Jade anyway.

"Is there anything you'd like to ask, Jade?" Dr. Alice nicely asks the teen. Jade looks up at the doctor, scoffs, and rolls her eyes before going back to her phone. "Okay," Dr. Alice says with a calm smile. "That's fine...it's your first time...it's normal to be nervous."

Oh, honey, Jade thinks, if you only knew how furious I am at the thought of having to be here at 8:30 in the morning.

Dr. Alice continues to talk, and Jade continues to block her out – giggling at memes and posts she comes across on Tumblr – venting to her friend about the situation she's being forced into. Time goes by slow for Jade, but finally, she notices that she has thirty more minutes before she can leave.

And as soon as the clock strikes 10:30, Jade jumps up from the couch and rushes out into the lobby – storming past her father and out to the car. Loki gives the doctor a sympathetic look before turning and following his teenager.

"What was that?" Loki asks – becoming angry with Jade. Jade doesn't respond – choosing to bury herself in her phone instead. "Jade, I know you're mad," Loki continues calmly. "But...please, my love...please let us help you."

"Thanks for making me miss my trigonometry test," Jade mutters under her breath – looking out the window as Loki begins to take her to school. "How can you help me with that? I'm not allowed to do a make-up test."

Loki looks over to Jade when he comes to a red light. "I'll figure something out, okay? You'll be able to make it up."

Fifteen minutes later, Loki pulls up to Jade's school – the angry teen slamming the door to her father's Mercedes as she storms inside. Loki sits for a while – pondering what he can do to help her heal.

A thought occurs just before Loki is going to leave.

"Hello?" a female teacher calls out – hearing a knock on her door. She had been told minutes earlier that a parent wanted to meet with her. Loki approaches the math teacher – his hands behind his back and a fond smile on his face.

"Hello, Ms. Matthews," Loki begins nicely. "I'm Loki...Jade's father. I would like to talk to you about how Jade can make up her trigonometry test that she missed this morning."

Ms. Matthews motions for Loki to sit down in the chair across from her desk.

"Jade's a fantastic student," she smiles at the god. "But I'm afraid I don't give make-up tests." Her tone is sympathetic – making it seem like she wishes she could help. "Jade's grade only went down to a 92% from a 100% with the zero for the test, but I'm sure she'll be just fine."

Loki takes a deep breath. "My daughter didn't miss it because she overslept or decided to skip class."

"I make it very clear at the beginning of each school year that -,"

"I'm the reason she missed it," Loki interrupts – practically pleading with the teacher. "You know what Jade's gone through...she needs something in her life to go right for once. Her grade being affected so much will break her heart, and honestly, I'm sick and tired of seeing my little girl's heart broken. Something that may seem small and insignificant to you may not be to someone else." By this point, the God of Mischief has tears in his eyes – trying as hard as he can to fight them back. "Honestly, I don't think she even cares about the grade. She needs something to help her feel better about herself...and math does that."

About half an hour later, Jade is walking into the cafeteria when she's halted by the sight in front of her.

It's Loki.

He's sitting at a table with no one else around.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Jade mumbles under her breath – pulling out her phone to text her friend and let her know how insane her dad is being. "Why the fuck are you here?" she asks herself.

As Jade tries to slip out of the cafeteria, she's approached by one of her friends.

"Hey, Jade?" her friend, Sarah, calls out to the goddess. "Um, so, what's up with your dad over there? Why's he crying?"

Jade's heart drops at the knowledge that her father is crying. Not only is he crying, but he's doing it in public...not caring who sees him.

Jade slowly approaches the table that Loki is sitting at. His elbows are on the table, and he's crying quietly as his hands block his eyes – letting his tears drop onto the blue table.

Carefully and quietly, Jade sits down in the chair across from her dad. "Daddy?"

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife for Thor Pt.03

10/21/2020

Garden of Delights

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 5,411

Warnings: angst, jealousy, talks of death, talk of sickness, infant sickness, neglect, fluff

A/N: As I said, writing itself right now. lol I’m not really sure how long this story will be. I have the basic premise set and a small plot, but if I choose to make this around the size of Pseudo Princess, I’ll have to come up with a bigger plot than the simple one I’ve got. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this chapter! I know I certainly loved writing it. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo

Seriously, Thor doesn’t reblog as easily as Bucky or Steve on tumblr, so I TRULY appreciate it.

Please do not RESPOST any of my works on other sides or blogs.

REBLOGS always welcome!

You’re still laughing gently, hiding your chewing behind your hand.

“Stop.” You plead, looking across the table at Thor.

Both of you seated on opposite heads of the table. To your left is Loki, smirking with no shame at the stories just relayed. To your right is Brunnhilde, sipping her wine…well, guzzling would be more apt.

She’s teetering left and right, elbow on the table as she shakes her head at Loki across from her.

They lock eyes and Loki scoffs, “Don’t pretend as if you didn’t want to stab him too when you first met him.”

“I never said I didn’t!” She argues, plopping her glass down a little too hard and the glass makes a loud clink that draws everyone’s gaze.

“Why did you want to stab him?” You ask her, reaching for your own glass of regular wine. Thor had promised that you didn’t want to try the Asgardian mix.

“You won’t wake for a week. Trust me, Your Highness.” He’d been super proper, and it was a little annoying, but you understand why he’s being so careful. He wants to impress everyone, especially the two who sit beside him.

To his left sits a woman, absolutely drop dead gorgeous with creamy moon skin and raven hair. She’s certainly one to watch out for as Brunnhilde had said.

She hasn’t smiled once since she gave you a small stiff grin as Thor had introduced you.

Even now she watches you, her hand resting on the table, a little too close to Thor’s hand for comfort.

Her fingers seem to be inching their way towards his and you feel the beginning bite of fangs in your mouth at the thought of her hating you because she wants Thor for herself.

This also makes you sad because you don’t meet women who are as unique as she, but Lady Sif has drawn a line and you find yourself on one side with Thor while she watches from the other, despising your very existence for taking the man she covets.

On Thor’s right is a man with his dark hair in dreads. Beautiful amber eyes stand bright against his dark skin, and the luxurious gray armor he wears, sits pretty on his muscular form. To his own right is a sword, placed between him and Loki.

He looks less amused by the story Loki and Thor just told them but when he meets your gaze, his eyes betray an amusement. Heimdall, protector of the Asgardian borders, has a soft spot for his King and his friends.

“To put it short,” Brunnhilde begins, popping her lips as she lifts her wine to her lips again, eyes locked on Thor. “He’s a bit of a doofus.”

Thor’s burst of booming laughter in infectious and you laugh too, just as Loki, Brunnhilde, and even Heimdall chuckles along gently.

Lady Sif is the only one who doesn’t laugh but merely smiles as she look at Thor as he shakes his head overwhelmed with amusement.

You know what she sees, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes are endearing. The sparkle of his one blue eye. The loveliness of his golden bearded face all stretched into a stunning smile.

“I am not a doofus!” He protests, then clears his throat and taps his fingers against the table as he makes his face as serious as he can manage. “What way is that to speak of your King?”

Brunnhilde throws her head back outrageously tickled by his words.

“You may be my King, but that does not make you any less of a doofus than before you earned your crown.” She throws at him and Thor laughs again, shaking his head as you quietly chuckle with them, loving this exchange and the ease at which they seem to be.

“What about that made you want to stab him?” You ask her, everyone’s gaze drawn to you and Lady Sif’s smile vanishing.

“Well, you’ll just have to wait and see.” Brunnhilde teases. “My condolences. Being married to this buffoon will be a true test of your character.”

Although her words are said as a joke, your heart gives a small lurch as you meet Thor’s gaze again, and this time he holds it, his own face falling a little to only a soft smile as both of you replay the conversation in the hallway once again.

“I’ll just have to try my best.” You tell her, a small shrug of your shoulder. “He seems alright so far. No major red flags. Besides the obvious.”

Thor’s smile is completely gone now, his brow furrowed as he continues to stare at you, his breathing a little deeper. A little more labored.

You’re nervous as you speak, voice shaking a little as your heart pounds and aches.

“What’s that?” Loki asks, also serious suddenly, picking up on the tension between you and Thor.

It might seem like you’re letting it go on too long on purpose, using it to make everyone uncomfortable, but really you just have to find the strength to speak as your nerves begin to get the better of you.

“Well,” You begin, voice still shaking. “I mean, look at him.”

And they all do.

“He’s also been really nice to me.” You admit, because aside from the unanswered question in the hallway, Thor has treated you respectfully, politely, with genuine concern and compassion…so far. “I think the deal was that I’m supposed to marry him and it’s alright if I don’t love him but, how long can I really resist?”

Brunnhilde scoffs, purging the atmosphere for everyone else of what you’re saying allowing them to relax and laugh at your strange way of telling them you find Thor attractive.

“At least your worries about your wife not liking you are assuaged.” Heimdall claps Thor on the shoulder, visibly shaking his body, but Thor’s intense gaze is on you alone.

Swallowing hard, you reach for your wine glass and take a deep drink, so conscious of Thor’s stare.

Dinner goes on just as it began and before long, Thor is back to laughing and chatting while your own attention is given to Loki and Heimdall whenever he remembers something he’s wants to ask.

When all plates are cleaned and glasses sit empty, dinner officially over, Sif turns hard eyes on you.

“So, I hear that you don’t have parents.” The interest is forced. She couldn’t care less about you or your life.

“Yeah,” You nod. “Um, they died a few months after I was born. Plane accident.”

“I’m sorry to hear it.” Heimdall laments kindly.

Beside you, Brunnhilde has her head in her hand, elbow on the table, eyes shut and mouth slightly open.

She’d just been talking so this is new.

“Thank you, but I don’t remember them. My only sorrow comes from never having a family.” You admit. “I grew up in a school—well, really it was an orphanage, but it was run much like a private school with uniforms that the government provided along with a minimal education. I attended until I became a legal adult and my lawyer, came to give me my inheritance.”

“Why weren’t you adopted?” Sif asks, her voice full of well-hidden venom that you can hear only because you know to look for it, her hand is inching towards Thor’s again and while he’s not your husband yet, the urge to stake claim over it is strong.

The way she asks also makes you feel as if she’s waiting to see exactly what is wrong with you. What can she use against you?

You smile, a smirk really, knowing what she’s up to.

You’re not unkind, but you bristle when attacked and Sif is making it easy for you to be defensive.

Searching within yourself for the strength to keep yourself calm, you take a deep breath before you answer.

“I wasn’t a healthy baby. I was sick, all the time. There was even a night my fever became so high that the doctors were sure that I would be left with brain damage. So, they watched me grow, expecting defects, but I got sick less and less the older I got.

“My speech and motor functions were top tier, and my learning capabilities were also fine.”

Everyone is silent, watching you with somber expressions. You’re a little on edge with them paying you such close attention, but this was the point of the dinner. To get to know each other.

“Unfortunately, potential parents were warned about the possible challenges I might face as I grew older, which put many of them off. While they wanted an infant, they didn’t want one that was broken.”

“I’m sorry for their ignorance.” Heimdall offers. “Clearly you grew up to be a lovely woman, but even if you had not, I’m saddened by their lack of compassion.”

You can only smile at him, having come to terms with the facts of your childhood long ago.

“Anyway, that’s why no one adopted me. So, a true family is something I’ve never had. I’m…” You blink, wondering how honest you want to be here. “I think it’s one of the things I’m looking forward to most. After tonight, I’m more convinced than before that this is will be a good environment to build a family. You’re all so nice.”

Loki, Brunnhilde—who’s awake again—and Heimdall are smiling. Lady Sif sits stiffly, her hands pulled onto her lap as she keeps her eyes locked on the empty plate in front of her.

Your heart stutters as you meet Thor’s eyes again. Staring deep into the single blue orb still locked on you.

“As conflicted as my past with the people in this room has been, I promise you, that is the right decision.” Loki assures you, a peaceful smile on his face that somehow comforts any misgivings you’ve been having.

At least about the people you’ll be around daily.

Your conversation with Thor in the hallway is a different matter, and one that you really want to finish.

“Well,” Brunnhilde slaps her hands on the table, rising to her feet with a little sway. “I think that’ enough pleasant conversation for me. I am tired-”

“And drunk.” Loki adds.

“-And that.” She agrees. “I need some sleep. So, Y/N, Your Royal Highness this has truly been a pleasure. I will be by in the morning to see you about wedding arrangements. Not too early though, you know—”

She steps out from in front of her chair, already walking towards the door large double doors.

Heimdall rises too, then Loki, Thor, and Lady Sif.

You stand last, fixing your dress as you do, making sure it isn’t stained. Luckily, it isn’t.

“This has indeed been illuminating.” Heimdall agrees, moving over to you to take your hand and press a chaste kiss to your knuckles. “Your Highness, it has been a true pleasure. I look forward to getting better acquainted with you.”

Loki is smiling, standing by the door but then he turns his eyes on Lady Sif.

“A word, Sif?” She looks at him, freezing beside Thor where she’d already begun to take his arm to pull his attention. “It won’t take long.”

With a sigh, she gives you one look before moving out the door in a huff, Heimdall following. Loki gives Thor a nod, something silent passes between them. With one final nod to you as well, Loki leaves.

“I really am very sorry that Volstagg, Fandral, and Hogun could not join us. Unfortunately, the Warrior’s Three are highly sought throughout the galaxies.” Thor says, moving towards you with calm slow steps. “They should be back for the wedding though.”

“I’m excited to meet them. Everyone was so kind.” You observe. “Well, almost.”

Thor looks confused, stopping just at the corner of the table beside you, his fingers nervously tracing the shape of the edge.

“Seriously? You didn’t notice?” You shake your head, somehow finding it funny. “I think Brunnhilde might be right about you being a doofus.”

Thor laughs once, blows a quick raspberry in denial at your conclusion. “Why do you say that?”

“Thor, Lady Sif hates me.” You point out, it’s so obvious to you and was obvious to Loki too at least.

“No.” Thor shakes his head.

“She kept trying to grab your hand! She kept glaring daggers at me.” You sigh. “She’s in love with you.”

“Sif is like a sister.” Thor tells you, as if this negates her feelings as well.

“She’s still in love with you.”

Thor sighs. “I’ll speak with her.”

“Don’t bother. I think Loki’s beating you to it.”

“Walk with me?” He asks, and your heart goes into sudden arrest.

Fingers nice and tingly, you swallow the lump in your throat. “What?”

“I would like it very much if you walked with me for a while. The night is not over yet, and despite the exhaustion of my court, it’s not actually that late yet. The gardens my people have cultivated for the palace are beautiful. I’d love to show them to you.” He offers his hand, waiting patiently for you to take it but you can only gawk at him.

“Isn’t it cold outside?” You ask, on edge.

Thor drops his hand. “Oh, right. Estrid?”

She’s already waiting by the door, auburn hair looking slightly disheveled.

“Ah, Estrid.” Thor smiles, big dopey grin on his face. “Oh, your hair…”

He gestures and she quickly fixes it.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty.” She gasps.

“No, no. Just looked funny.” He eases her, and she calms instantly, smiling bashfully. “Can you fetch Her Highness a jacket?”

Estrid turns and rushes from the room but returns only seconds later with a long navy cloak. It isn’t a jacket, but it will match your dress nicely.

“That’s not a jacket.” You observe, feeling self-conscious.

Thor takes it from her and holds it open for you. There’s a clasp around the throat that will sit against your collarbone. “It’s a cloak. It’ll keep you just as warm as a jacket.”

You turn for him and he slips it over your shoulders, holding it until you turn to face him then he quickly fastens the clasp.

“Better?” He checks, fixing it around you.

You can’t find your voice to answer. Heart is racing. Damn him. This isn’t going to work if he keeps being sweet.

He offers you his arm and you hesitate, timidly wrapping your hand around the lower part of his large bulky bicep again.

“Wonderful.” He smiles wide. “Estrid, Her Highness will be in later, please prepare her bedroom so that she might go to sleep as soon as we return.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” She curtsies quickly then turns and rushes out to get your room ready.

“She doesn’t have to do that.” You tell him, turning to watch her flee. “I can make my own bed and stuff.”

“It’s her job.” Thor tells you. “Will you take it from her?”

You think about it carefully, and despite the fact that  Thor is a warrior and has travelled around the world sleeping in terrible places with no comforts at times, you understand in this moment that having servants is something he’s used to.

“No.” You realize and make a mental note to let these people do their work without putting up too much of a fight.

Thor leads you off down a side door into another dark wooden hallway with beautiful cobbled floors beneath your feet with a long carpet running its length. No one seems to be walking around in this hallway which makes you think it’s more secluded.

“Did David tell you I like flowers?” You check, wondering how much information Thor has about you.

“No? I didn’t know that though. That makes this even better.” He realizes.

You lapse into silence, hand trembling around his bicep as your mind replays the last two hours, picking apart every moment, every word shared, and every lingering look Thor had given you.

“Did you enjoy dinner?” Thor asks, his voice much lower, quieter.

It’s an intimate volume and it startles you, giving you a little bit of a delay in your response.

You meet his eyes and he’s staring right at you, soft smile stretched across his lips. It’s more a peaceful expression, calming.

And yet, it has the opposite effect on you, and you gasp a little as you catch your breath. Your heart is pounding through your ribcage.

“It was good.” You nod, looking towards the large stone archway up ahead. One of the doors stands open, the Norwegian night beyond.

You can see a splash of beautiful green beyond and can already hear the soft tinkling of flowing water from what is probably a fountain.

“And the conversation?” He asks, tilting his head to one side as he gives it better thought. “Aside from Sif.”

“They were all super nice, Thor.” You smile, honestly grateful to Loki, Brunnhilde, and Heimdall for their warm welcome. “I wish Lady Sif had been more open. She’s been fighting at your side for a long time, right?”

“She has.” Thor nods, as the two of you break through the doorway and you’re greeted with an elegant garden larger than even the circular room you’d first met with Thor in.

Your jaw drops and you stop walking, gaping at the collection of flora and fauna each piece delicately pruned and cared for. There are certainly several small fountains, dark gray with small underwater lights to provide the garden with diffused illumination.

Despite the chilly night, the garden makes you feel warm with flowers of every color. Roses in white and red, lilies with stunning white, carnations in pink, wine, cream, yellow, and purple. Throughout the roses are smaller pink flowers you don’t know but they’re adorable and the fragrance in this garden is intoxicating.

“Wow.” You whisper.

“You like it?” Thor asks, smiling a little wider as he waits for you to take your long look.

“It’s beautiful.” You nod.

“Come.” He pulls you along gently, urging you to walk again.

You follow, your hand sturdier around his arm. “Do you like gardens too?”

Thor nods. “My mother used to cherish her garden. When we arrived, it was the first thing I had commissioned. They were finished building it before they even finished the palace.”

“She passed?” You wonder, looking up at the echo of sadness in his eyes.

“A while ago.” Thor nods. “I miss her counsel. She was always the voice of reason and logic in my life.”

“I’m sorry.” You offer, hoping it’s a comfort.

You reach up with your other hand, wrapping it around his arm too.

He looks down at you, eyes searching, confused? But his smile never wavers. “Thank you.”

The two of you lapse into silence again, you busy looking at every flower you pass in admiration, Thor lost in thought.

“I’m going to miss my herb garden.” You lament with a sigh.

“You had an herb garden?” Thor wonders, turning his attention back to you.

“Just a small one. I only had some rosemary and thyme. I wanted to grow some mint, parsley, basil, and dill but I didn’t get the chance.”

Thor stops walking, gently shakes his arm to make your hand slide down along his forearm. As it falls, you takes hold of it.

You’re startled, but you don’t pull away, your mind devouring the information you can gleam from this moment as quickly as it can.

His hand is warm. No…it’s hot. Like he’s had it shut for a long time. The skin is a little rough, calloused, but not uncomfortable. You can just imagine the battles he must have fought. His hand is so big. Fingers wrapped softly around yours. He gives it a squeeze and you feel it in your core that this isn’t going at all how you planned.

You almost want to run to your room and hide under your blankets with the speed at which you can feel yourself dropping your guard to him.

The plan had been to marry him, never love him, and live your life as best you can and probably take a lover at some point. You should be able to love too.

But it isn’t supposed to be Thor. You’re not supposed to fall for him.

You remind yourself of his refusal to be honest with you. You remind yourself that his heart is already given and accepted. Jane loves him too, even if she won’t marry him to prevent him from marrying someone else.

You can understand why she can’t give up her life to take on this one. It’s a lot to ask of anyone.

It helps you grasp onto reality, to remember the conversation before dinner and his inability to commit to honesty when It comes to Jane.

“I have something to show you.” He tells you and pulls you down the length of the garden until you reach a greenhouse.

Thor releases your hand and throws the doors open before holding his hand out for you to take again.

You do, and he pulls you into the narrow but long space. Each side is lined with planter boxes, each box holds a different herb, including all of the ones you mentioned before, and some you have never seen before.

“What is this?” You gasp, reaching for a particularly strange one in a deep blue, almost black color.

“It’s the Asgardian version of lavender.” He tells you, placing his other hand over the one you’re reaching out for it with. “But it stings a little for humans to touch with bare hands. There are garden glove in the box by the door if you want to cut some for your room later. It smells wonderful. My mother used to keep some on her desk.”

“I can take some?” You gasp, turning to look up at him and he’s standing so damn close, you shrink in surprise.

“Of course.” He smiles at you, “This is your home now. Anything in these gardens is yours to have.”

He’s so fucking nice! You hate him.

You’re too stunned by his proximity to speak, hands twitching under his own. He seems to realize what’s got you tongue-tied because he takes a step and one hand back but keeps hold of the other.

“I wanted to talk with you, it’s why I’ve brought you here.” He pulls you along, and you give the herb garden one final look before he shuts the doors and moves back towards the center of the garden.

There you find several white marble benches around a small manmade pond, surrounded by more flowers.

Thor leads you to one of these benches, then extends a hand towards it so that you’ll sit.

You do, nervous suddenly as he sits beside you, taking his hand back for the first time since he began to show you the garden.

“You’re making me nervous.” You admit, your mouth moving before you can stop it. Anxious is not a good state for you.

“No.” He assures you, shaking his head, full of concern. “No, please don’t be nervous. I only wanted to continue our conversation from before dinner.”

“Oh.” You nod, expecting to be denied the honesty you want.

How will you use his refusal to do it as an excuse to not fall for him if he agrees to it?

“You’re right.” He nods, turning in the seat to face you a little better, your body mirroring his.

“I am?”

“Yes.” He takes a long deep breath. “After everything that was said during dinner, after watching my friends meet with you and get to know you, I realize that you’re right in what you say. I am asking a lot from you. More than I care to admit.”

Your mouth is suddenly dry.

“Did you mean what you said?” He whispers, a trace amount of uncertainty in his deep voice.

“What did I say?” You ask, voice not as quiet but still a little breathless.

“About falling for me?”

“Oh.” Your brain goes fuzzy and your heart is probably going to burst through your chest like in that one horror movie you watched as a kid.

“Truth is, I chose you because you were different.” He nods. “Not, different from regular humans. Most of them are very much like you, which is great. I love humans. But compared to the other ladies that came to meet for this purpose, I…if I’d wanted someone who would turn a blind eye while I and Jane continued to see each other, then I should have chosen one of them.

“They knew what was expected, as did you, but I didn’t consider how the difference in you would affect your own responses.”

“Are you saying you don’t want me anymore?” You ask timidly, feeling a rush of emotions all mixing together, turning into confusion.

You’re almost happy that he doesn’t want you anymore. You won’t have to marry him and deal with Jane and a life of standing by watching him be with someone else while the world thinks you’re together.

Another part of you, the part that’s already out of your control—even though you’ll never admit it—can’t help but feel depressed that he’ll be married to someone else.

“No!” Thor rushes to assure you, sliding over closer so that he can take your hand again, his knee touching yours. “No, that’s not at all what I’m saying. What I’m saying is that I understand what you meant. I know why you were upset. I’m sorry that I did not consider this whole thing more carefully from your perspective.”

You feel a wave of relief and know you’re screwed. It’s already too late.

“But I need you to answer my question.” He says.

Your eyes go wide at the audacity of this man as you laugh because it’s so funny of him to need that of you when he couldn’t return the favor before. “You didn’t answer mine!”

He smiles, chuckling. “Answer mine first.”

As you consider him, blue eye staring at you with no restraint for the way his gaze makes you feel, your mood grows somber, all traces of your laugh gone.

“Yes.” You sigh. “I’ve never been in love before.”

You shrug.

“And it’s not like you’re not…I mean…You know damn well what you look like.” You growl.

Thor laughs, throwing his head back.

“And then you come in with that voice and you’re not rude or…I mean, you were a little mean with the whole asking me to put up with being married and having no love in it. Like, I get that it might be normal for royals or whatever, but I’m not really royal. I haven’t lived in a palace with servants and a crown on my head.

“I grew up in an orphanage with no friends. No one has ever loved me. My parents loved me, I think, but they died and no one has cared about me like that since. Even now, the only person on my side is David, and I know he only stuck around because he felt bad for me. He’s also getting paid by my estate, so…there’s that.

“I’m not asking you to love me. I know that you love someone else, but I was only asking for you to be open with me about it. If you want to meet Jane, fine. Meet her. But do it somewhere that I can’t see. Do it but tell me that’s where you’ll be so that even if rumors fly in my ear that Thor is meeting with his mistress, it won’t hurt as much. It won’t make me feel as stupid, because I already know that’s where you are.”

Thor’s hand over yours grows tighter, his face lamenting for who knows what reason, because you’re not in his head but you can see that he feels bad which is stupid and you hate him for it because it means he cares.

You only just met him but with every passing moment in his presence, you fall more and more. It’s not love yet. You know that. It can’t be a crush because you know him too well. You like him. You’ll admit that.

“To answer your question more clearly,” You take a deep breath, exhaling quickly to wipe away the excess of emotion that surged forward suddenly. “Yes. I meant it. I don’t love you now, but I think I could.”

Thor nods, looking down at your hand, turning it over in his own.

The silence feels endless! He won’t speak, but his thumb keeps caressing your hand and you kinda wanna bite him for it.

“If my mother were here, she’d be disappointed in me. She’d tell me that I should let go of Jane. She met her, and while she liked her but…We are clearly moving along different paths and as much as I love her, she is not the one for me. Not anymore. My mother would definitely think so.

“I think she would have really liked you.” He admits, and his words give you comfort. “She would have called me a fool to pass up such a sweet and level-headed woman.”

“I’m not that level-headed.” You confess. “I’ve got anxiety issues sometimes.”

Thor smiles.

“I think she would have been right.”

Wait, is he saying what you think he’s saying?

“I will talk with Jane tomorrow to…to break things off. It won’t be the first time for us to part ways and I think in the long run it will be better for us both.”

“Thor, you don’t have to-”

“But I do.” He nods, meeting your eyes. “I need to let go of my past to embrace my future. And that’s you and New Asgard. It’s my people.”

“I want this marriage to work.” He continues. “I chose you and I meant that choice. Out of all the women I met, your picture of an ideal marriage was the closest to mine. It would make me happy to live that life with you.”

You’re breathless, chest heaving as you struggle to find a coherent thought.

Thor seems to realize that you’re struggling because he places your hand on your lap, tapping it gently before scooting back a little to give you space.

He’s so fucking massive! How is it possible that this is seriously your life? This God will be your husband. You’re going to have his kids?!

Your cheeks burn, neck burns, ears burn, legs suddenly clenched together as the fear from before runs quickly through your mind.

They’d wanted a maiden and they got one. Will he talk about it with you later? You can’t bear to talk about it now. You’re too embarrassed and overwhelmed by what he’s saying.

“So,” He starts, rising to his feet to tower over you. Then he falls, gliding gently onto one knee before reaching into his pants to pull from his pocket a small brown pouch.

He opens it, turns it over, and into his hand tumbles a shining silver ring.

“I chose this before I knew you liked flowers but now that I know, it makes me glad I picked it.” He smiles, “It just made me think of you when I went searching so, I hope you like it.”

He grabs it with two fingers, pinching the thin band delicately to hold it upright so that you can see the stunning design. A round diamond rests in the middle, shining brilliantly at the center of what looks like a lotus flower made of smaller diamonds filling its leaves.

You hate him because you absolutely love this ring. You love the sight of him on his knee in front of you. You love the way he scoots closer so that he can hold your hand easier as he gently straightens it and presses the ring to the tip of your finger.

“Will you marry me, Y/N? Will you be my Queen?” He asks, and you’re so silent, he grows visibly nervous. “Please?”

You laugh at the hitch in his voice, the plea there.

“Yes, stupid.” You laugh again.

He chuckles as he slips the ring on your finger, then after a moment of hesitation, he hooks his hand behind your neck and pulls you down to meet his lips.

Eyes wide, heart stopped, you freeze as hot lips fry your nervous system.

[pass-the-bechdel]

Marvel Cinematic Universe: Thor: Ragnarok (2017)

Does it pass the Bechdel Test?

No.

How many female characters (with names and lines) are there?

Four (23.52% of cast).

How many male characters (with names and lines) are there?

Thirteen.

Positive Content Rating:

Three.

General Film Quality:

Loads of fun, though tonally dissonant; works best on first viewing. Easily the superior film of the Thor franchise, though that’s not a huge achievement considering its predecessors.

MORE INFO (and potential spoilers) UNDER THE CUT:

Passing the Bechdel:

Sigh.

Female characters:

Hela.

Scrapper 142 (I know, she is credited as Valkyrie, but since the name is never used to address her in the film it doesn’t count by the rules of this blog; if she didn’t happen to be referred to by her scrapper number a few times, she wouldn’t count as a named character at all).

Topaz.

Natasha Romanoff.

Male characters:

Thor.

Surtur.

Skurge.

Loki.

Stephen Strange.

Odin.

Volstagg.

Hogun.

The Grandmaster.

Carlo.

Korg.

Bruce Banner.

Heimdall.

OTHER NOTES:

The use of Immigrant Song is my favourite thing about this movie, to be honest. I don’t mean that as an insult, it’s just such a good choice.

The inclusion of Doctor Strange in this film feels like a pointless misstep, a distraction at what is really a vital early point in establishing tone, especially considering this useless scene is what leads us in to...

...the literal death of Odin and introduction of Big Bad Hela, all of which should be emotional and intense and is instead flat and dissonant in the extreme. Watching this for the first time, I was very concerned that the whole film was just gonna end up gimmicky and soulless. While it does pick up, I was also not wrong about that early assessment.

Not that I was attached to Thor’s friends from the previous films, but they sure do just kill them off without fanfare, except for Sif who just doesn’t appear at all (logically, we should assume she dies off-screen, otherwise there’s no reason for her not to be up-front with Thor at the end of the movie). Fandral doesn’t even get a line in before he croaks, that’s how irrelevant these franchise-veteran characters are. Emotional engagement in plot and character is for chumps, anyway.

*whispers* Jeff Goldblum is here.

“Piss off, ghost!”

Hulk reveal is pretty solid, if you manage not to have been spoiled (a tall order, since it was in the promos).

Heimdall is still the MVP of the Thor franchise.

Can’t believe it took this long for any movie to squeeze some real fun and heart out of the Hulk character. This is way better than embarrassingly forcing a love match on him.

The valkyrie-battle memory is soooo good-looking.

This movie is too recent to be using the word ‘gypsy’...

Thor’s story about Loki pretending to be a snake when they were kids is the good shit.

But, Immigrant Song is still the most inspired choice of the film. Not sorry.

So, this is one of those movies which I felt was pretty over-hyped, to be honest. It is great fun, don’t get me wrong, it’s fresh and hilarious and subversive and way the Hell better than the previous Thor films, plus it has a great cast and strong visuals and they used Immigrant Song really effectively...but the tone of the film is an absolute fucking mess, the plotting is a shambles, and there’s nowhere near as much heart and weight underpinning it all as what there should be for a movie involving the near-total destruction of an entire civilisation. The majority of the movie is handed over to a shenanigan-heavy side-plot of no consequence to the central conflict, while the central conflict - LITERAL RAGNAROK - is relegated to a handful of scenes sprinkled across the film, obliterating any chance of it seeming meaningful or even particularly serious. The strongest point of the story is the final act, once Thor and company finally get to Asgard to confront Hela, but the narrative doesn’t earn that strong finish; it just goes to show how much more engaging the rest of the film could have been if they had stayed on track.

This is a big part of why this movie - while a delightful surprise on first viewing - doesn’t age particularly well on repeat; this was my fourth time through, and by the third quarter, as Sakaar draaaagged through its roster of jokes and pratfalls, my attention span was waning fast. Even if the entire garbage-planet sidebar was not distracting from what should have been a very serious main plot, I’m not sure it would remain engaging long-term, since it is rather spare and low on emotional/character investment; it’s not a pitfall of comedy that has to exist (heavily-emotional and/or dark comedies are definitely a real thing), but unfortunately, this is not a movie that is very interested in what has come before it, and it expresses that disinterest by neglecting any element of the established Thor mythology which might have brought this plot a sense of meaning. As such, rather than feeling like ‘the Thor movie that finally got it right’, it’s more like a reboot, with old characters unceremoniously ditched and any sense of purpose or import in old story threads or histories gone right alongside Asgard itself.

I’ve seen people praise this film for its ‘anti-Imperialism, anti-colonialism’ message, but I feel it’s a point weakly made onscreen; any depth to that argument would require a more sincere effort from the script in addressing those scant Asgard scenes, and as such, I feel that this element - though it isn’t completely wishful thinking - is much more in the eye of the beholder than it is a function of the narrative itself. The attempt to engage with any thoughtful discussion on Asgard’s legacy is a swift casualty of the film’s overall superficiality, just the same as the devastation of Asgard and the decimation of its population is blithely underplayed because, hey, Thor vs Hulk is worth way more attention than genocide, right? It’s that tonal dissonance in the two pieces of the plot which keeps me from really relaxing and enjoying the lightness, because that lightness is both excessive and out-of-place; I feel uncomfortable being asked to just shrug and go with it, I want to be emotionally involved and moved by the plight of the Asgardians, and instead I’m stuck watching Thor get a haircut and an eyeful of Hulk dick. Under almost any other circumstances, I would be all about a hard-comedy version of Thor, especially after the generic drudgery of the earlier installments in the franchise, but at the same time as Ragnarok? Not so much.

That said? This film is definitely not without quality. Comedic quality, for sure (anything with Taika Waititi’s name attached is worth a look), and there really are some great casting flourishes (though I maintain disappointment that the Asgard plot is so undersold, because it means Karl Urban and especially Cate Blanchett are under-utilised); for the interests of this blog, it’s that Scrapper 142 aka Valkyrie who forms the highlight (and she’s a worthy highlight without the context of this blog, too). Valkyrie’s drunk, angry sauntering and her snappy disregard for Thor’s righteous pontificating positions her within an archetype normally restricted to male characters only, too loose and unseemly for a female character, who might be found dislikeable and (horror of horrors) too sloppy to be sexy, whereas a man in the same archetype is funny, a ‘lovable asshole’, and the perception of his appearance is not tied up in his behaviour the same way nor is he under the same pressure to prioritise his appeal for the audience in the first place. Angry male drunkards who begrudgingly tag along with the protagonist in the end because they’re surly but not bad, those are a dime a dozen, but a woman in the same position? A rare gem indeed. And Valkyrie is more than just a fresh twist on an old cliche; her personality is grounded, it has a relatable simplicity (disillusionment with a side-order of survivor’s guilt), and there’s a confidence about the way she and the unspoken parts of her life are presented, without need to force a connection with Thor and his personal plight in order to justify Valkyrie’s actions or relevance to the plot. She’s an entirely self-contained character who could just as easily have the story to herself with no further mention of Thor et al., and that’s the hallmark of any well-constructed character: the ability to stand alone.

As a whole, this movie is far from bad - when I call it overrated, I am very much talking about the fact that it’s mostly a string of shenanigans with minimal narrative underpinning, and while that’s not a terrible thing in itself, I do think the hype around this movie implied that it had something more to offer than just laughs and a retro look. For me personally, the lack of emotional engagement and character stakes is close to a fatal flaw, and so while I enjoy this movie on a superficial level, it gives me nothing I need in order to really dig it (for others, obviously, this is not a problem). It always rubs me the wrong way to see something completely disavow previous chapters in the same story - there’s a big difference between developing an idea in a new direction, and simply ditching whatever you didn’t like about what came before - and I would have preferred to see this film make its changes with at least a modicum of respect for the foundations it is building upon (basic as the previous Thor films were, they weren’t catastrophic embarrassments). And yes, ultimately, the burying of the Ragnarok plot under a pile of Planet Garbage (feat. Jeff Goldblum) is just a little unforgivable in my mind, and it’s the first thing I think of whenever this film pops up; I really, really wish that Ragnarok were not part of this plot at all, that the Sakaar part of the story (i.e. the part that The Powers That Be were actually invested in, clearly) formed the bulk of the second film in the Thor franchise instead, since that movie basically sucked and took itself too seriously, and then the Thor film which took itself seriously could have been actually about Ragnarok. Basically, I wish that Marvel had gotten their shit together sooner rather than later with this part of the franchise, because while this worked out fine for them monetarily, narratively it’s just not a step I can get behind.

[chopper-witch]

A Weapon of My Own Design: Nightmare (Ch 3)

Characters: Loki x OC (Ashira)

Warnings: PTSD induced nightmares, kind of self-harm

Locations: Her ship

WC: 2,835

Summary: After having fun on Contraxia, the two decide not to awkwardly avoid each other. Just the perfect night for Ashira’s past to ruin her sleep. 

AWOMOD Master

A/N: This is the first chapter on my new blog! Chapter 1 and 2 are on my previous blog! Also it is midterms week that’s why this is late :( 

I’m gonna throw it all under the cut since it starts with the nightmare. 

Message me if you need a summary because reading it will be too triggering. I understand :) 

Ashira steps forward as the gate opens to the fighting pit. Not only is this purely humiliating, but purely horrifying from what she has heard between the whispers of the guards. A princess does not stand in a fighting pit meant for dirty experiments. And a princess is not a spectacle to be sold. 

“To the center, dear,” the Emperor says. 

Ashira looks up to the ceiling and bites her lips, her feet stepping slowly forward bare in the dirt. Stripped of her armor, her normal clothes, her shoes, she’s being guided like the Kree’s experiments to play, again. The only indication she ever mattered to anyone beyond being a toy is the tattoo along her spine, the permanent reminder of her royal status and military achievements. 

She turns once she hits her mark to the watching box. She’s seen it many times filled with Kree scientists and the Emperor himself, scurrying around with clipboards and video cameras and other equipment. But this time sits a special breed of spectators: her parents, the tyrannical Titan and a few of his Children. 

It’s been a year or so since she last saw her parents. The last time was to simply tell her that she was not coming home. 

To tell someone who was simply on an allied planet for testing to determine what happened that they are not coming home is terrifying. And to tell a princess she is not coming home? 

That’s not something anyone just does. 

Then the forced blood drawings and tissue samples began. 

And forced training with powers she didn’t even know existed. 

And forced killings of Inhumans in their stupid fighting pit. 

“Dad...” Ashira begs. He barely spares her a true look, dark blue eyes glaring as he tilts his head up. “Mother…” 

“Shall we begin?” Her mother asks, entire head turning towards the Kree emperor, her deep, near black brown eyes not even looking at her daughter. 

“Mom...” 

“Of course,” the Emperor smiles. “Bring in the first Champion.” 

“Please!” 

The gate opposite her, on the right side of the stupid pit. 

A shaking, terrified male human steps out, looking just as, if not worse than Ashira. Dirtied, tired, and in ripped black clothing. A guard shoves them past the gate as if closes swiftly behind them. 

Her eyes flit back up to her parents. “Please don’t make me...” 

“This particular Inhuman subject has the power of geo-kinesis. In the room we have left some of the strongest substances in the entire universe!” One of the scientists announces. 

Ashira looks back at the male in front of her, a human no more than twenty. A bit gangly with dark tawny skin and muddy black hair. Tired, mildly malnourished. 

“What’s your name?” She asks softly. 

“Ca-Caleb,” he replies. Irish.

“I’m Ashira. I don’t want to hurt you and I hopefully won’t. But please use your powers the best you can against me.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t want to hurt you either. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“You won’t, I promise.” 

The boy nods nervously. His eyes look around the room at the various rock formations. Some of them he can easily identify: lead, silver, titanium, diamonds, even vibranium he knows. There is one in a container he isn’t familiar with, it’s aqueous and silver in tone. 

He slowly lifts his hands, the block of lead following suit. Ashira watches carefully. Geo-kinetics tend to make daggers and she’s learned that if she doesn’t pay attention fully, one will get past her and sometimes dig its way into her skin. She doesn’t mind but those in charge of her… they mind. A lot. 

Caleb makes quick but shaky work of the lead; within seconds hundreds of daggers are made and pointed at Ashira. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“It’s alright, I’ll be alright,” she assures. 

The boy turns his head away while pushing his hands forward to avoid the possible carnage. Ashira cannot imagine what they have made him do, the number of fellow humans that have died for him to get here. 

But she does her part in this spectacle, ducking slightly and throwing her right arm out and around, a force-field like purple shield encasing her with ease. Each and every dagger disintegrates as it nears her, the lead falling into unsalvageable pieces on the ground. 

Once the last one is gone, she unfolds herself and stands upright again. She knows it’s going to be a display of everything they taught her: shielding, that weird ray thing, possibly some energy pulses. 

It goes on like that a few more times, the young boy nervously creating sharp weapons out of various metals and Ashira quickly destroying them into nothing, making them too broken to even be touched by him ever again. 

“Enough! This is not what I came here for!” The Titan finally speaks. 

“Of course,” the Emperor replies. 

Ashira and the boy share a look. She knows something is about to go wrong, very, very wrong. As does he, but he knows less about the situation than she does. He was kidnapped from Earth, thrown into this without context. Context she does. 

“Now.” 

The bar implanted in her neck releases an unimaginable jolt of pain - unlike anything she has felt before. Like millions of zinner ticks all firing through her body at once. 

She screeches, her body involuntarily crumpling forward. The pain continuously pulsates throughout her entire body and with each new beat she cries out a little more, her hands scratching endlessly at her neck. Her attention is drawn away from what she is actually doing to the arena, focused entirely on the suffering. 

The group watches in awe as the pain forces her power to be drawn out. With each new sting comes a new violent wave of purple light emitting from her, decimating the unprotected plants, metals, and people over and over and over again. The inside is shaking, a violent quake upsetting the ground of the entire facility as her body shutters. 

The Emperor waves his right hand gently and the scientist stops the violent torture. 

Ashira drops to her hands and knees as her muscles finally relax. It takes her a moment, but as her eyes reopen, all she sees is complete destruction in front of her. All the metals left over falling in dusted pieces down from the ceiling, her own clothes gone from her body, the faux flora in shreds. She looks for her opponent to apologize only to see the dark, scorched outline of a fallen boy. 

“No... no... no, no, no!” Ashira whimpers out, crawling towards his shadow. “No…” 

“Let’s go talk terms.” 

-

Ashira wakes with a gasp. It’s spinning, everything. The ceiling, the seat, the ground, the stars, even her own body is spinning. And words are howling around her. Scrambled in the air around her, crushing her skull with their sound and taking up any bit of air she could possibly have to reverberate. “Let’s go talk terms” is chanted over and over in overlapping waves, quieter and louder, spinning like everything else, slithering its way around her neck and constricting her throat. 

Her throat. There is a burning sensation on her throat, the implant still burning inside of her. She needs to get it out. Her nails claw at her lower right neck, scratching and pulling at nothing but it’s there. The bar is there. She knows it is there and it needs to get out of her body. She needs a mirror to find it. 

With what little strength she has, she pushes herself out of her bed, body tumbling onto the ground. In front of her appears a vague vision of a burnt outline of a fallen boy. It’s spinning. 

Heat. It’s too hot suddenly as she gasps for another breath. The little bulbs of sweat seem to pop up out of nowhere from her skin, sticking insistently to her face and hands as she clamors her way towards the stairs, towards a more open room. They are heavy; every drop another pound to her body. Too heavy. 

Downstairs. More room and cooler downstairs. 

A painful inhale passes her lips as she pulls all her strength together to reach the stairs. 

It’s more of a tumble than anything, but her crawl down the stairs is more difficult than her hike up Mount Yuniva for training (and she legitimately almost died making that hike). Her hands reach the metal floor. It’s not any cooler. And it’s spinning. Everything is still spinning. 

She jolts backwards into a seated position. She can’t feel her heart, it’s gone. Her whole body is numb save the burning sensation on her neck, she can’t breath and her heart is gone and goddamnit everything is spinning. 

Now her stomach is spinning too. 

“Let’s go talk terms” is no longer just suffocating her air, strangling her throat, it’s slithering its way down her throat. It doesn’t belong there. 

It’s swirling and sneaking its tendrils to stir inside of her. 

And it doesn’t belong there. 

Ashira stumbles to her feet, body swaying under the weight of her sweat and the lightheadedness from the lack of air. It’s barely a walk as she wobbles towards the bathroom, her body forcing the words back up. The door is knocked open, swinging back into her legs as she falls over the toilet. She isn’t thinking about it, but she is glad to have pulled all her hair back into a singular braid. 

There is more than she thought there would be heave up. It’s more than words; it’s everything she ate within the past ten hours and then some. And it won’t stop. The words keep shoving their way back down and her body keeps pushing them back up. So even though she is seeing stars, her eyes are burning and the wounds she made on her neck are oozing more the more she pushes, she keeps pushing. 

But pushing soon turns into sobbing, the bubbling in her throat a similar experience. So she stops trying to banish the nightmare and allows the sadness overwhelm her instead, her hand struggling to flush the toilet. 

She can’t bear the smell of the words. 

She turns to sit with her back to the toilet, throwing her left arm over her eyes. Twenty year some odd years later and she is still having nightmares over that one moment. Pathetic. 

The spot on her neck where the bar once was is bleeding, she can feel it. It’s trickling down onto her shoulder, slipping into her tank top and settling along the crevices of her underclothes and even her elbow. That spot hurts; the spot she spent an entire night carefully carving at to take out, that bled for hours as she focused on just getting away before taking care of her wound. It’s not the only scar that still stands out as she also had to rid of other imbedded machines that could track her, but it’s the only one that still hurts. 

An ugly reminder towards the bottom of the right side of her neck. 

Loki sits on the stairs, watching Ashira sob in the near darkness. He woke up when she started thrashing in her sleep, but he didn’t know what to do. So he stayed still in the new bed they got for him, listening to her mumbled pleas and eventually her screams. And when she got up, gasping and crying and stumbling around he still didn’t know what to do. How do you help someone like that? Someone so terrified of something they shake in their sleep? Someone so scared they stumbled around like a drunkard and cry out like a a hurt child?

Her sobs only get louder and Loki only feels more helpless. 

He barely even knows this girl, he remembers, so why should he even help her, feel sorry for her? Because she’s saved his life; she willingly took him in despite the possibility that he could be trying to kill her or bring her in; she rearranged part of her ship for him; she’s shown more kindness and hospitality in four days than he usually gets in four years. 

The next twenty minutes are uncomfortable for Loki. Between the undulating sound of her sobs and the metal stairs being too small for a proper seat, he’s stuck. He doesn’t know how to comfort somebody; he really doesn’t. 

Ashira pushes herself up eventually. She knows she isn’t done crying but goddamnit she has a guest and she isn’t going to spend all night crying in front of him. It’s rude and most importantly: embarrassing. She should be over it by now. 

It’s a slow walk to the stairs. Should she grab a towel or something to clean up the mess she made on her neck? Yes. Is she going to? No. She’ll deal with it in the morning. 

Loki simply watches as she makes her way towards him, careful not to look like he is staring like she is some animal or spectacle but also careful to make sure she understands he isn’t ignoring her. He wants to do something, to help her, but he doesn’t know what. 

She pauses part way up the stairs and Loki thinks she is going to explain. Maybe offer a few words of advice even. But she places her right hand on his shoulder, her head barely tilting due to the pain she’s put herself through. 

“Don’t ask,” she whispers, her voice crackly and hoarse from the tears. 

And then she starts walking again, her hand lingering on his shoulder. 

Loki looks to his right shoulder where her hand just was as she finishes her ascent. He searches it for answers. Maybe she left a clue or something in the form of a handprint or even a  dropped note. He just wants to know. 

Does he understand the type of stress that one must go through to wake in such a fright? No. But he does understand betrayal. And her helpless cries for her parents is a sound all too familiar and fresh to him. 

He waits a few more moments until he is sure she is at least re-situated in her bed before returning to his.

His eyes trace over her resting body. She curled up as usual, body placed on her right side, left arm pulled around and tucked beneath herself, like she is giving herself a hug. A few times he has caught her cuddling a gun but tonight she is weaponless. She sleeps facing the stars with a thin sheet covering her that is usually thrown off by morning. And no matter what she is always stiff. He swears that if anything were to happen she could just jump out of bed and be ready instantly; it’s like she doesn’t really sleep. Her sleeping position appears restful but her actual sleeping is not. 

Loki crawls back into his own bed, an actual one with two pillows and a real blanket. Not a window seat that’s really just a chest with a pillow on top. But an actual bed 

-

For nearly an hour the only noise is the soft hum of the engine. Loki hasn’t fallen back asleep; Ashira hasn’t fallen back asleep. Both are simply still in the dark, silent, acting as if nothing has happened. 

Loki can’t handle it. She may be used to being alone, not having to share her situations with others, but now he is involved. Now he knows something about her she likely never shares with anyone and he cannot just pretend that nothing happened. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Ashira shifts in her spot to face the interruption. It hurts to remove pressure from her scratches, but she has the compulsion to turn to Loki. “Sorry? For what?” 

Loki searches the ceiling for a response. “For whatever happened. I don’t know what you went through but whatever it was, no one deserves to go through something like that.” 

“Thanks.” 

It’s laced with a hundred different emotions. The overtone, the heaviest, the loudest is confusion. Loki can’t tell if it’s confusion over him saying anything or confusion over him showing sympathy, but it is confusion all the same. 

The rustling of her thin sheet is loud as she turns back to the stars. Loki knows he will likely never understand her. There is too much to her for him to dissect. A normal person he can figure out in a few hours, the whole of them in a week. 

But he knows it will be years to understand her. 

She constantly contradicts herself. Sometimes it is on purpose, putting on an act like on Contraxia. Sometimes he is sure she doesn’t realize it, like how she always looks perfectly put together, not a single hair is ever left out of place but then she leaves her weapons and extra wires everywhere, never bothers to wipe up spilled oil on accident, remembering to do so leaving her mind entirely. 

---

Next

[lovemesomesurveys]

The last time you washed your hair, did you use conditioner? I have been as of late because I’ve been doing some deep hair treatment stuff with my hair so it’ll help it grow out nice and healthy.

Do you prefer light or dark jeans? Dark.

When you listen to music, do you generally sing along, or just listen? It varies. Sometimes I just gotta sing along; at least to certain parts.

Do you have any of your exes as friends on Facebook? Yes.

Who was your first love? Do you ever miss that person? Joseph. Yeah, I do miss him and our good times together. It was such a different time it’s weird for me now to think it ever happened because of how different things are now. How different I am.

How many cars are parked at your house right now? Three.

Do you have any Italian ancestry? Possibly. I’d really like to do one of those tests.

Do you prefer water to be ice cold or at room temperature? I drink mine room temp.

Has anyone ever told you you’re a control freak? No. 

Do you know anyone who has gone missing? If so, were they ever found? Yes. One of my cousins did a few years ago in the woods and thankfully was found a week later. It was a very terrifying week. He was of course dehydrated, out of it, and a bit banged up, but ultimately okay. 

What was the spiciest thing you’ve ever eaten? Hmm. I’m not sure what I’d consider to be the spiciest.

Do you need to talk to someone? Not at the moment.

Is something confusing you at the moment? Not currently, no.

When was the last time you had a real deep chat? A couple days ago.

Who did you last see on webcam? I don’t go on Zoom or Skype or anything like that.

What’s your best friend’s pet’s name(s)? My best friend is my mom, whom I live with, so her pet is also my pet lol, but anyway her name is Princess Leia.

Have you ever taken a picture while laying in the grass? No, cause I don’t lie or sit on the grass; it makes me itchy.

Who’s your favorite Disney character? Alice, Winnie the Pooh, and Eeyore to name a few.

Have you ever deliberately tried to get someone drunk? Nah.

When was the last time you used a pay phone and who were you calling? It was sometime early on while attending community college, actually, so like 2009 perhaps. My phone had died and I needed to call for a ride and using a payphone was the only option I had at the time. I think they took them out a year or so later, though. I was surprised they even had one cause other than that I hadn’t seen a payphone in quite a long time. Now there’s people who don’t even know what that is and I feel so old lol.

Do you like being kissed on the neck? Yeah.

Have you ever had sex with someone you weren’t dating (but had feelings for) in the hopes that they would ask you out later? I haven’t had sex, period.

What’s the most you would be willing to spend on a good bra? Like $20 something. Ideally, even less than that. I don’t understand why they have to be so expensive.

Do you have any of your teachers’ personal cell phone numbers saved in your contacts list? No. I’ve never had a teacher’s phone number saved in my phone or ever even called a teacher.

Do you ever stalk peoples’ personal blogs, even if you don’t know them very well? Nah.

What’s one thing about today’s generation that you just can’t stand? Cancel culture. Is there anyone you currently want to reach out to? No.

What is your favorite piece of art you own? The few giraffe paintings I have.

What’s the one thing you apologized for this month? Hmm. I don’t know if I have apologized for anything this month. If I did it wasn’t for anything major I wouldn’t think since I can’t remember.

My favorite color is ______? I have a lot of favorite colors.

I wish I had _____? Good health.

What did you buy today? I haven’t bought anything as of now. I don’t plan to, but we’ll see how it goes. 

What about your life concerns you the most? My health.

What do you find particularly offensive? Would you say you’re easy or difficult to offend? I’m not very easily offended, I think. <<<

What was the last series you finished watching? Do you have any plans to begin another? I think it was Loki. There’s a few shows I’m currently watching and others I’m waiting to start their new seasons or come out.

What is one way in which you are different from a year ago? What is one way in which you are still the same? My health changed a lot and I’m having to be a lot more dependent on my family now.

If you could learn about anything without the stress of grades or cost, what kind of classes would you take? More psych classes, perhaps. I could certainly use a refresher on things.

Name a song you’ve listened to today? I haven’t listened to any music today so far.

When you were younger, did you have a swing set or a playhouse in your backyard? I did.

Is your mall nice? My local mall is meh. I like to go other ones in nearby cities that are a lot better.

Do you have a Sonic near you? If so, what’s your favorite drink from there? Yeah. I used to get a cherry limeade all the time from there.

Will you be voting in the presidential elections next time around? Yeah.

How do you feel about chocolate-covered strawberries? They’re delicious.

Did you ever stop having feelings for someone and then started having those feelings again for them? Yes.

Do you hate the last guy you had a thing with? No.

To whom did you last give the finger? That’s not something I do.

What was the last musical instrument played in your presence? Probably the piano.

Do you like sprinkles on your ice cream? No.

Honestly, have you ever crashed a party before? No.

Do you know how to do the moon walk? I know the move, but I’m not able to do it.

Has anybody ever told you that you have a good singing voice? Ha, no cause I don’t.

Onion rings or french fries? I love beer battered onion rings. I don’t like when they’re super hard and crunchy. I love french fries, too. Beer battered french fries are even better.

Has anybody ever described you as a heart breaker? Pfft, no.

Has anybody ever told you that you talk too fast? Yes.

Who is the best cook that you know? My parents and brother all have their specialties that are really good.

Which meal throughout the day do you skip the most? I’ve been having 3 meals a day regularly now for the past few months. That’s one positive thing that has come out of this health setback I had. Prior to that, I pretty much never had breakfast and it wasn’t uncommon for my first meal to not be until the evening or even dinnertime. 

What’s the largest amount that you can juggle at one time? I can’t juggle at all.

Do you know how much you weighed at birth? How much? Like 7 something.

Which aspect of your daily routine takes the most time? What do you do? Everything takes me longer now. Just getting myself to get up and around takes time.

Is acting something you enjoy? No.

Are you a smoker, drinker, pothead or none of the above? None.

If you have your ears pierced, when did you get them pierced? When I was a baby.

When was the last time you spoke to someone in a different language? Most nights when I’m practicing Spanish with my mom when she does her Duolingo.

If you have siblings, have they moved out or do they still live with you? My younger brother lives here.

Have you ever gotten searched by the cops? No.

Do you like fried rice? Yeah.

What was the last thing you drank? Water.

[winterscribe]

That Vampire Hunter D thing I’ll eventually write coherently

So now that I’ve FINALLY found the Vampire Hunter D Fandom I’m working up the courage to share some of my headcanons (my stupid anxiety makes it irrationally hard) The problem is a lot of my headcanons require at least basic knowledge of the fantasy world that I started when I was 14?Ish? And the Ocs I created. Like I decided to yank D out of his post-apocalyptic hell world and put him into this peaceful world populated by non-assholes, or in some cases, slightly less homicidal assholes… ok the number of assholes is much less than on the frontier, and even the homicidal ones usually need a good reason to be homicidal. None of this “I’m gonna experiment on thousands of individuals and put my son through a living hell for shits and giggles” - LOOKING AT YOU DRAC, LOOKING AT YOU!  

Anyway it’s really long and rambly so READ MORE-

Anyway I’m gonna make a series of posts explaining the basics, who’s who, How D got there, basic worldbuilding, that kinda thing. I’ll go through and link ‘em as I finish them. And I’ll make a masterpost because there are a few tags on my blog about the world and D’s family.

Now, since this world was started when I was 14 there are some things that are a little...odd. Names that Stuck and I can’t change because I’ve been calling it that for over 5 years, plot lines that involve characters from a different franchise but i haven’t figured out how to replace. Seriously I have GOT to figure out how to replace Fucking LOKI. FFS I haven’t liked that character for 2 years WHY is he STUCK THERE

I’m currently worldbuilding and planning a few novel’s based on Avaleara’s life, but the first 2 would be before she met D so I don’t think anyone would be interested. I’m gonna write certain scenes though, like Avaleara and D’s first kiss, the emotionally overwrought scenes that bring them together, stuff like that. But hey, if you like really overthought worldbuilding and sprawling sci fi/fantasy worlds, lord knows i could talk about Rev’haros for hours, so feel free to hit me up.

Story

D’s Part of the story line starts when Avaleara was punted through the barrier between universes by her uncle’s failed experiment and ended up on the frontier. By sheer happenstance, she landed right in front of D, who pretty much ignored her because she wasn’t trying to kill him and he needed to get to a job. Avaleara decided “Hey, there’s a fifty fifty shot he’s heading towards civilization, Im’ma follow at a respectful distance” Now, while Avaleara is decidedly Alien in appearance (aprx 6 ft tall, really dark purple skin, has horns, bio-luminescent markings, ALIEN) she has interacted with humans before, has even been to an Earth before, (Multiverse ftw) she has a pretty solid glamour already prepared, so while D knows what she looks like cuz he saw her, she can blend in on the frontier.

Except yah’ know, she doesn’t speak the language cuz the only Earth languages she knows are Japanese or English from circa 2000. Her trying to figure out the frontier dialect is like someone who speaks old English plopped down in the middle of modern day- She can sorta kinda figure out the gist but dear god is it difficult and makes her headache. On top of that since she comes into town a few hours after a Dhampir, well people don’t want shit to do with her, so she keeps vaguely wandering after D. I haven’t figured out the turning point yet, but eventually D interacts with this strange woman trailing aimlessly after him even as he cuts through an incredibly deadly forest and other such frontier horror ‘scapes that should have gotten her killed but didn’t. Because it’s D, he has a better grasp on “ancient” Japanese (Also I headcanon that his mother was of Japanese descent because Tony Thornburg) So they can communicate better.

Eventually they sorta travel together (Again I need to flesh this out) for a few years. About a decade of sorta traveling together (though niether of them will admit it, and certainly won’t admit that they enjoy eachother’s company) Dracula decides to be an asshole. For Hand Wavy reasons he comes up with a test for D and Left hand, that involves poisoning D. (IDK i’m kinda toying with the idea that Dracula had another success that was better than D, and decided to get rid of him, buuuut that would mean another character and i think it really goes against canon so idk if i’m gonna go that route)

The thing about Avaleara is that she is really possessive (part dragon) and fiercely protective of those she’s attached to. So Drac didn’t count on being hit with 900 pounds of sheer protective RAGE. Seriously Avaleara is the kind of person who, if she has something to protect, she will get back up no matter what she gets hit with. Spear through the heart? Bitch please she has two and you just handed her a weapon. Cut off an Arm? Regenerative powers and a history of being tortured so she doesn’t even flinch at the pain? Fire? She’s been burned alive before and it awakened her latent dragon genes. Water? She was born with an innate gift for controlling it. (so i kinda gave her every power I ever thought was cool, oops. HI MARY SUE)

She doesn’t kick Drac’s ass, but she does seriously wound him which is enough to startle him and, since he’s already accomplished poisoning D, he retreats, firing off a psychological attack as he goes. At that point Avaleara has one of two options. Use the last of her strength to fight off the attack, or draw the poison from D into herself (I had a reason for this but it's in a notebook buried in a box somewhere. God I hate moving) Another thing about Avaleara- if it's a choice between saving her life and saving someone else's, she will save someone else's. Every. Time.

So She saves D’s life, but falls into a coma fighting both the poison and Drac’s attack. At this point, her father, Maruketsukai (there’s one of those names I can’t change) appears, because her family had been keeping an eye on her but hadn’t pulled her back home cuz reasons. D does not trust the guy that appeared in midair. D owes Avaleara a debt because she saved his life. D also wants to know how the fuck she managed to wound the Sacred Ancestor. D is a stubborn bastard who will recklessly enter a portal to another universe because he owes someone a debt. He will also stand guard at their bedside for 5 years while they are in a coma because they saved his life.

(I think this is still in character- I mean he wouldn’t do it for just anyone, but shit this person fought Dracula and lived. For Him. yeah he’s gonna stick around and make sure they’re safe before he fucks off.)

His protectiveness earns him the undying loyalty of Avaleara’s family. Like, he’s obviously straight up ready to cut his way out of the room if they so much as breathe wrong in her direction. Ordinarily death threats aren’t the way to endear yourself to your in laws but Maruketsukai and Nikara are… not ordinary.

During the 5 years that Avaleara is in a coma, D learns a lot about her world, her family, and her past. Like the fact that she’s second in line for the throne, and that a previous lover had betrayed, kidnapped, and tortured her and that she had extreme PTSD and massive trust issues because of it. That’s why they had left her on the frontier, because for the first time in two thousand years, Avaleara had sorta trusted someone, or at least, didn’t seem overly paranoid about them, and they wanted to see what would happen.

D spends a lot of time with Takashi and Mizuki, because they speak Japanese. Takashi is the son of Sesshoumaru and Kagome. (Yes from the anime Inuyasha. I did mention this started when I was 14 right?) That’s why he speaks Japanese. Also He drags Avaleara and Mizuki to Earth occasionally which is why Avaleara has a human glamor. Its interesting for D to meet another half breed who is so blase about it, but Takashi grew up in  La’ Shevare, where genetic modification for the express purpose of interspecies breeding has been a thing for several million years. Pretty much no one is a pure blood. But since he’s also the nephew of Inuyasha and has listened to his father express his regret over how he treated his brother, he at least partially understands where D is coming from. Sorta. Academically. Ok not really but he tries. And totally has a talk shit get hit policy when it comes to D. Like call Takashi a half breed, make fun of his heritage, whatever, so long as you don’t make fun of his parents, he don’t give a fuck. Call D a half breed, make fun of D’s heritage, prepare for at least 3 broken bones. Probably more. Seriously. He’s 45 years older than Avaleara, held her in his arms as a baby, grew up with her and fell in love with her sister. She’s Family.  He was helpless when the man she loved broke her and twisted her into someone else, was helpless during her recovery because she wouldn’t let anyone in to help her. The moment D popped up, planting himself between Avaleara and any perceived threat, was the moment he became Pack. And you Do Not Fuck With a Dog Demon’s Pack.

Eventually Avaleara wakes up, except thanks to the psycological attack, and her previous ptsd related issues, Avaleara first thinks D is a hallucination. It takes awhile for it to set in and stick that he’s not. D sticks around, convincing her that he’s real and she’s not going insane, and just being really patient when she freaks out and thinks she’s seeing things, because hey, it was his asshole dad who did this to her so he kinda feels responsible. Plus he’d still really like to know how she wounded him.

It boils down to - Avaleara has spent the last 2 thousand years studying a variety of fighting techniques from all over the Rev’ Haros System, a system whose recent history spans back a few million years. D may know all the fancy vampire tricks, but 10,000 years is a drop in the bucket, a single lifespan of a person from Rev’ Haros. The whole system is so much more advanced than even the vampires at their peak, just because they’ve had the time to develop so far. The average person could go toe to toe with greater nobility if they had to, nevermind the people who are actually trained. Not to mention their fighting styles are so different, so alien to anything on Earth, that Dracula was at a significant disadvantage from that alone.

Avaleara happily agrees to train D in some of these styles. He doesn’t plan on sticking around long enough to learn them all. But he does, and she happily teaches him everything she knows until he is literally the only person who has a prayer of killing her. Shes very proud. Their sparring matches are epic and terrifying.

[imagine-loki]

House of Cards in the Wind

TITLE: House of Cards in the Wind CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter One AUTHOR: wolfpawn ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you were a powerful villain who was captured by S.H.I.E.L.D. and put in Cryogenic storage because there was no other way to deal with you. After doing some research, Loki learned about you and became obsessed. So much, that he looked for you and woke you up, knowing that you’d seek revenge and he would be more than willing to help. RATING: Teen and Up

NOTES/WARNINGS: This story is the result of an imagine I saw on another blog theartofimagining13. The credit for the imagine goes to the author on that page. 

Warning death of minor characters and violence in this fic

Present

His footfalls were rapid and without falter, as he made his way through the rows of what could only be described as chambers, each one eight foot tall, three foot wide and occupied. His breath would have been puffs of smoke in the air if he too was not as cool as the room he was in. To any other, the Cryogenic room would have been too cold to bear without adequate insulated clothing, but to Loki, it was as though it a spring day, he knew it was cold, he was no fool, there was ice everywhere, but he did not feel it. He paid little heed to the numbers and letters that donned the top of each chamber until finally, he came to the one he had read about, Subject 142RC-87F He looked at the ice-filled chamber and his brows raised. “You are younger than I expected, but that has its advantages.” He stated as he waved a hand and the icy air filtering into the machine ceased. “I doubt you will be too keen to defrost here,” he looked around for another moment. “I hope you do not get teleportation sick.” He grinned before touching the icy machine and teleporting it away.

*

When Loki came to Earth via the Tesseract

“What are these?” Loki demanded, looking at the odd files that had been in the jeep when he had gotten into it just as the base was exploding.

“Files, sir,” Barton answered obediently.

“Pertaining to?” “Top secret information.” “So you do not know?” “No, sir.” “Well then, I think I shall have a look.” Loki flicked through the files as he waited for the next phase of his plan to come to fruition, very soon, he realised they pertained to subjects, all of unique in character, but to Loki’s delight, in negative manner. It was a list of the most deadly and terrifying of S.H.I.E.L.D. prisoners, the ones not permitted to remain capable of doing harm, frozen in ice, most to never be allowed see the light of day again. He read the files, some were ruthless killing machines, killing for pleasure, others were just too dangerous because there was no manner to control them, but amongst them all, Loki found one inmate that peaked his interest, Subject 142RC-87F. A female, who, if the file was to be believed, was somewhat of a thorn in the side of S.H.I.E.L.D. for a considerable time, her ability to sneak in and out of facilities and hack their systems causing her to be one step ahead, what really was the issue however, was her superhuman abilities, and how she chose to utilise them. “Oh, I like her.” He grinned to himself. “Where are these held?” “Unknown location, sir,” Barton replied, not taking his eyes off the road ahead. “I think it is high time this ‘unknown location’ becomes a known one.”

“Sir?” “I must meet this marvellous creature.” He looked at the photo that accompanied the file, it was grainy, clearly taken from a distance.

* Loki scoured every last bit of information he could get on Subject 142RC-87F, but very little seemed to exist other than her actions that caused her to come to the attention of S.H.I.E.L.D. There was no sign of where on the pathetic realm she derived from, her date of birth, or even if there were any of her family alive, nothing, only her actions, which Loki read over and over, and her abilities, both causing him to become more and more curious as to her. He found where she and others like her were being stored, but was brought back to Asgard once more before he could go in search of her, but he swore he would return and find her, it is all he focused on as he read book after book in the bowels of the Aesir palace, biding his time, knowing sooner or later, he would escape and be able to go in search of her. * Present

Loki used a portal to return to Midgard easily, what was more difficult was getting around the realm in a manner that was not going to get him noticed. He altered his appearance, magically forged some documents and Midgardian money and then preceded, in what, to him was a snail’s pace, to the required location.

Midgardian vehicles were awkward contraptions with too many levers and too flimsy, so he used teleportation when he could, until finally, he came to where he needed to by, a compound, in the middle of nowhere, fashioned to look like nothing more than a few airplane hanger sheds, but he knew better, under the ground’s surface, Midgard’s most deadly beings lay in frozen prison cells. He studied the layout, the codes required, the check in radio calls and even the attire and facial features of everyone that worked there. Somewhat unsurprised, he noticed the women that worked at the facility were not as scrutinised as the men, grinning, he decided to use their inability to view the ‘fairer sex’ as a true threat against them, and altered himself to look like one of that form. As soon as the heels he chose to add, seeing as the male's interest piqued on noticing them, touched the floor of a hanger, he had the attention of every male present. With precision bourne of practice, he used his knives to kill every one of them before using his magic to clean the evidence, obtaining the hand of a man that had adequate access to the area he required, he made his way through the underground compound with ease. It startled Loki how foolish mortals were. They actually kept electronical blueprints of all their structures, meaning Loki could study it long before ever setting foot inside. Mortal technology too was somewhat simplistic and anything that required codes was of a basic level by Aesir standard, in truth, he felt somewhat sorry for them, it was any wonder they were advancing so pathetically. With the aid of his seidr, no camera worked as he passed them, which also allowed him to change back to his correct for, his battle armour on, should it be required.

As he walked through the icy room, he cared little for many of those in their chambers, but her, she was all he could think of, he wanted to know was she as good as the S.H.I.E.L.D. paperwork said she was, he wanted to know if she would aid his cause, he needed to know if she yearned for revenge.

* He tended to the machine as slowly, the fluid began to turn to liquid again, he replicated the machine necessary to insure her vitals remain the same so that she did not die in her defrosting. When finally, the liquid was able to be drained, he allowed it to do so and stood watching her. Indeed, she was far younger than he thought she would be, he estimated her to be approximately two and a half decades by human standards. Laying her on a special bed, he used his magic to keep a check on her, and after a short time, her heart rate began to increase; soon after, he chest slowly rose and fell as he body began to take in oxygen again. All the time, Loki sat back and watched.

Less than ten minutes later, as Loki waited patiently, he was startled when she sat up suddenly, gasping for air; her eyes wide and her face filled with fear and anger. “Relax, you are safe.” Jumping to her feet, she fell backwards, her muscles stiff after the length of time she had been in stasis. She eyed Loki warily. “I am Loki, of Asgard. I believe we can assist one another.” “What do you want?” “Now, now; if what I read of you is true, you know the answer to that already.” “How do I know this is not a test?” Loki rose to his feet, his tall body towering over hers. “I am not a mere mortal Midgardian, I am a God from a different realm. I have no reason to test you, I merely came across your file and decided that perhaps we could be of use to one another. I, being a help to you by freeing you from that horrid cell, and you, by assisting me in taking down some mutual adversaries of ours.” “Who?” “S.H.I.E.L.D.” “I’m in.” She declared immediately. “Stay out of my way and I will level it all.” “Now, patience, I see now the down side to your youth, it is not enough to simply let it be levelled, the fun is watching it being torn apart, limb from limb.” She watched him carefully. “Loki, that is your name, right?” “That is correct, and who might you be, all they have you down as Subject 142RC-87F?” “Rebecca, Rebecca Cahill, inmate 142.” “Well, that explains the first part of the title.” “What year is it?” “2017 by the calendar you realm uses.” she swallowed and her eyes went wide. “How long have they had you like that?”

“Five years.” “How old are you?” “I was born in 1987.” “87F stands for your year of birth and gender then I assume.” “I...They left me there for five years.” “I think they planned on leaving you there longer.” Rebecca looked at Loki, “When we destroy S.H.I.E.L.D. Nick Fury is mine.”

“The man with the eye patch?” She nodded. “He is yours.”

“When do we start?” Loki sneered. “I do believe we are going to get along very well indeed.”