#magical melodies of ass-kicking or some such. wheezes.

[tiredassmage]

they look like they're about to drop faerûn's next hottest album or something.

[poormeowmeowcollector]

Two Gals Sitting On An Elevator Because They're Not Gay

Pairing: Lady Loki/Female Reader

Warnings: claustrophobia, panic attacks

Summary: with the power cut off, you get trapped in an elevator with Loki.

Notes: after being tempted by a certain lady *coughcough* @lucywrites02 *coughcough*, my bisexual thirsty ass needed Lady Loki, okay?

Read On AO3

You're pacing down the corridor, the shoes slamming rhythmically on the tile floor. It's just your first meeting and you're already late.

You slide into the elevator right before it closes, pressing the button and staying put in a corner.

"Good day," a posh voice greets. You turn to face a woman around your age, black locks of hair framing her sharp and pale face, her green eyes scanning you. She's also dressed nicely, a black leather jacket and jeans with old boots and a green tee, some gold jewelry here and there. And she is holding four cups of coffee, the biggest ones the shop inside the Tower has to offer.

"Good day," you smile and nod, eyes still on her. You can swear she looks familiar, apart from illegally attractive. "Excuse me, but have we met again? You look familiar," you mutter, already regretting it. Gosh, you sound like a freak.

"Perhaps from the TV, when the attack took place," she answers, voice low and deep. You stop and think for a bit. The only women on the TV from back then were Agent Hill and Agent Romanov, and this woman is much taller and paler than both of them. You're ready to ask for more information, in hope of recognising her.

"Apologies, I looked different then. I'm Loki," she explains, a tint of anxiety in her eyes.

"It's fine, don't bother with it. Oh, by the way, what're your pronouns?" you ask, secretly glad to see that anxiety dying out.

"Thank you, she/they for now," she smiles, still small and distant. You nod and stay silent, feeling that there's nothing more to add to the convention. Loki agrees with it.

There is a silent agreement among humanity, one that says that we cannot stare when inside an elevator. But your eyes can't stop trying to steal glances. It's not the superhero fact, you knew very well that you needed to acknowledge the fact that you're on the tower and respect those people's boundaries the moment you got the job. It's how damn beautiful they are, even though she's just standing there.

Then, you can't stare altogether, because the lights are out and the elevator comes to a halt.

"What just happened?" There's an obvious panic on Loki's voice, accompanied by a small breeze.

"Probably the power was cut off. A second generator or the reactor will turn on again soon, don't worry. We just need a light so we don't bump into each other…" you mutter, trying to find your phone.

Which you, apparently, forgot at home when you rushed here. Great!

"Do you happen to have something that can light up the place?" You ask, trying not to groan. A small lantern appears on the centres of the small box, lighting it up with a green light.

"Nice, relaxing," you smile at Loki, watching as they nod from their tiny corner. You sigh and go to the door, trying to open it.

"Allow me," Loki appears from behind you and digs her fingers into the small split, the metal bending around them. With one flex of their hands, the doors are torn apart, only to reveal a wall. There's no light or air coming from below or above, you're trapped exactly between the floors.

"JARVIS, tell Stark that we're here," she sighs and turns towards the black screen that is supposed to be the board. Nothing happens.

"Maybe the AI needs power to work. They'll find us. Until then, we should get comfortable," you suggest as you sit down, facing the green lantern. Loki hums but doesn't sit. Instead, they walk around in circles like a caged animal and mess with their fingers (the coffees are on a corner), an obvious nervous gesture.

Without thinking about it, you grab your fidget toy from your bag and wait until Loki walks in front of you so you can kick her gently. "What?" They ask, glaring at you. You smile and offer the toy, watching her expression becoming softer as she takes it and starts messing with it instead of her fingers.

"I apologise, but I don't have the best experience with closed rooms, they're like cages," they laugh, the nervous kind of it.

"No need to apologize," you shrug, mentally trying to think of a way to make it more bearable. Damn, you should have searched for it while you had the chance…

The elevator gets colder, distracting you for the mental barade on how ignorant you are. "Could we run out of air?" Loki asks, stopping the walk and staring at you.

"There's a vent on the ceiling and air coming from the holes in the door so, no," you take it literally. It probably won't help but she still nods and tries to smile.

They sit down, opposite to you, and keep playing with the toy, eyes lost. Her lips are muttering things in a language that comes to your ears as a combination of trills, groans and gagging sounds. Their skin becomes clammy and pale and their eyes glassy, shoulders jumping up and down faster than before.

You're not an expert, but this is not a good sign.

Your breath comes out visible from the cold as you call Loki's name. She doesn't respond. Instead, they throw the toy down and curl into a ball, head hidden and something between wheezing and sobbing coming out of them. Her hands, tight around her curled feet, have a green glow on the fingers, like fire threatening to burn everything down.

You move closer and call their name again, hoping you won't starle them and make it worse. She doesn't flinch, but doesn't respond either. "Hey, it's okay. It's okay. You're safe. You will be fine, alright? You'll be fine," you whisper, again to no avail.

You try to run your hand against the green flames, still repeating those words and warning her. It covers your fingers too, giving you a numbing sensation of a sleeping limp.

Then, Loki literally grabs you like you're a teddy bear and squeezes you, but gives you enough freedom to do the same. You're afraid to apply pressure but they squeeze you back, almost asking you to mimic them.

So, you hug each other for dear life, your hands drawing patterns on her back. Against your body, their heart pounds like it's going to break out and their lungs move faster than light, their whole body shaking and feeling clammy and cold. She's resting her head against your shoulder, tears streaming down as she fights for air.

"Shhhh, it's okay, it's okay. You'll be okay. It will pass, I promise. Just try to breathe and wait, okay? You're not alone in this one, you're not. Everything will be okay," you whisper again and again against their ear, hoping to help somehow.

It takes time and effort for Loki to finally draw a full breath, even though a shaky one. You smile and praise her for it, happy to hear the next ones being more full of air and feel her body steady.

But there's a cold wave again.

"Sh- I'm so sorry… I-I… I had no control…" they mutter and break the hug, head hanging down with shame.

"Since you're better, it doesn't matter," you smile, trying to find her hand again. She's quick to cup yours with hers, squeezing and tracing lines with her thumb.

"Then, thank you," they raise their head and give you a weak smile, eyes still glassy from the tears.

"Don't mention it. Em… do you want me to step back, give you space?"

She nods a no. "Actually, I would ask for the exact opposite," they whisper, trying to maintain the smile. You turn around and sit beside her, your upper body resting against the metal wall.

"You're free to go ahead, you know," you let them know. Without a warning, not that you needed one, she tangles her hand against your and lays on your shoulder, breathing heavily. You move your own hand against their waist, bringing them closer.

"Can I ask, why do you feel so safe with me? You're literally a goddess," you ask.

"You aren't a threat. When you," she stops to take a breath, "when you touched my seiðr, it felt safe," they explain, voice wheezing just so.

"The green fire thing?" You furrow your brows. Loki gives you a hum.

Neither speaks for a long time, you stay put where you are. But it's not awkward at all. In fact, it's quite comfortable. She stays there, the small and occasional squeezing on your side by her hand is the only proof that she hasn't fallen asleep, but it's obvious how the attack drained her.

Then, they start humming a tune, completely foreign to your ears.

"What's that song?" You ask out of the blue, praying you won't starle her.

"An old lullabye Frigga used to sing to me and Thor when we were small. She said it has a protection spell to keep creatures of the night away," they sigh. Only from the myths, you recognise the name.

"It probably is inappropriate to ask, but do you mind singing it out loud? The melody sounds sweet," you suggest, voice small. Loki chuckles.

"My singing is terrible in this form, I was unfortunately trained to sing only with the male voice and there's no way I'm turning into him anytime soon,"

"Oh, okay then," you nod at her response, convinced that that's the end of the discussion. Loki stays silent for some long moments, and then they straighten themselves against the wall.

"Come, lay here. If I am to do it, better do it the way she did," she argues, petting her thigh. Whatever bisexual alarms exist in your brain start beeping like bomb sirens from the WWII, so loudly that you swear they can hear them.

"We're strangers…" it's all you manage to say. Loki responds with a shrug.

"Yes, and?"

You nod and do as she commanded, your eyes put on hers. They smile and take some deep breaths, you don't know if it's to gather courage or air.

Then, she starts singing. The sounds are still rough and hard, like their mumbling earlier, and the melody is completely foreign to your ear. It doesn't stop it from being magical. You soon close your eyes and find yourself relaxing in her lap, drunk in her voice.

Their foot jerks, hitting your head and making you groan as you land face–first on reality. "You could at least pay some attention," she scolds, icy eyes glaring at you.

"I'm sorry, I got lost in the song. But your singing is stunning," you try to explain yourself, but their face doesn't seem to soften.

"You could use a better lie, I sound like a dying goose," she maintains her serious face, or façade, even though you start grinning.

"Now who's lying?" you tease, rising up and going back to your previous position beside them. Her cheeks go pink and then red, the blush spreading to her ears and her lips turning into a thin line.

And gosh, they're so adorable!

"I-" she stammers, seconds before hiding her burning face between her fingers and muttering in Old Norse.

"Hey, are you alright?" you ask, worried you might have triggered another attack. They nod and sigh, revealing their now pinkish face.

"I apologize, it just started to hurt," she whispers, eyes looking down at her hands. You shrug one shoulder.

"You have nothing to apologize for." They smile at the answer, laying back at your shoulder and digging their nose in your neck, long cold fingers grabbing your hand and playing with it as tickling fire comes and goes. She digs her head out, watching carefully your hand's reaction to the fidgeting.

"You have a beautiful hand, you know that?" they mutter, almost you themselves.

"Thank you," you don't know if you giggle from the comment or the tickling coming from her seiðr. They hum, consecrated on your hand and maintaining a second wave of comfortable silence for several minutes.

"What do you plan to do when we get out?" she asks out of the blue, leaving your hand alone and hiding back to your neck.

"Make sure I'm not fired, apologize to my boss, probably get something to eat since I didn't have time for breakfast…" you whisper, scared of breaking the silence.

"If Stark fires you, he dies, slowly," they don't break the calm with the threat, but you still giggle at it.

"Thank you, sweetie. What're you planning to do?" you beam and move some hair away from her face as she turns around.

"Move to a balcony, smoke the whole tobacco industry, never use an elevator again, and kill Stark," they shrug, gazing at the metal wall in front of you.

"Sounds like a plan," you grimace and fail to hold back a shiver. When did it get so cold again?

Loki starts to quiver too, but you bet it's not from the cold.

"Loki?" you keep quiet, hoping you won't scare her. They don't respond.

Instead, she just sits there, like a statue, vacant eyes on the wall.

"Loki, you're safe now. Okay? You'll be alright. I promise, you'll be just fine," you start whispering again, raising a hand to hold them.

Your head gets slammed against the wall. Loki stands in front of you, her eyes glowing green and filled with rage and a flaming punch being ready to launch in your face. You raise your hands in surrender, praying that they'll see them instead of the way you shiver from fear.

Her eyes soften, and then water up. "You're not- Oh Norns, I'm so- Oh Gods!" they stammer and walk back, their whole body shaking. She stops on the neatest wall, her feet collapsing and making her fall down.

They need space, you know that, but you still walk closer. "It's okay, you didn't mean to," you whisper, now careful not to touch without permission.

"I almost…" she mutters, hiding her face behind her hands.

"Almost. You didn't do it," you debunk, hoping it will somehow help.

Plus that punch couldn't be so bad. Expect that they're able to bend metal… minus the magic… Nevermind, you'd break your skull.

"Hey, did you listen? You didn't do it. It was close, yes, but it didn't happen," you repeat, sure that her thinking was louder than your speaking.

"Could you… could you stop talking? Please?" they whisper, removing their hands from their face to glare at you.

You nod, waiting for another way to help. She pats the metal beside her, and you move there, letting her lay on your shoulder again.

"You know, I never thought of you as a cuddler…" you comment.

"If you tell anyone, I will kill you," they growl. You nod, sure she didn't feel like joking.

You stay still as they move around to get more comfortable, ending again on your shoulder but this time their body is relying on yours and their nose brushing your neck. For someone as thin, you didn't expect her to be that heavy, but you're not getting crushed, literally, so you don't complain.

"What happened? Did the snake eat your tongue?" they purr, and you get to feel their sinuses vibrating as they speak.

"You asked for silence," you shrug your free shoulder, turning to face her. They hum and go silent again, pressing their face harder on your neck.

"Oh, apologies," she whispers, after a yawn so soft you thought it's just a sigh, her voice dragged and half asleep.

"It's fine, you can even sleep," you whisper back, smiling as they smile at you and dive further down.

And maybe five minutes later, her breath evens out and deepens. You stay even more still, they had maybe three panic attacks, they must be exhausted. So, in order to entertain yourself, you decide to daydream and maybe count the deep sighs she releases against your neck.

At about ten sighs, the elevator starts moving down, which is enough to wake them up. "They're getting us out?" she asks and yawns, eyes on the wall that reveals the door of the lower floor.

Someone digs their fingers on the other metal wall and opens it. The sunlight makes you cover your eyes.

"Sister, are you well?" Thor's voice literally bombs as he runs inside.

"Be quiet, you idiot…" they respond, basically jumping up before Thor can realise that you were cuddling. You follow her path.

"Oh, a Mortal. Are you well?" Thor turns his eyes on you.

"Yes, yes. Is Mr Stark here, by any chance?" you mutter. The characteristic sound of the suit walking towards you is enough of an answer.

"Yes, miss. Don't worry, you're not fired. In fact, since you are now needed more spontaneously, you'll move here. And before you ask, yes, that's a promotion," he moves the metal mask out of his face to deliver the good news.

"Also, how did Loki not kill you?" Captain America pops up and asks.

"They were hugging when I opened the door," Thor answers before you can muster a lie. Your first reaction is to bite your lip and turn to Loki, whose face has gone all pink from the shame.

"No, no! She was scared and asked for it. I committed out of pity!" they make up a lie. All three heroes turn to you.

"Yes, yes, exactly. It was terrifying. Now, if I could… pack up my things? Yes… Gotta go, sorry…" you stammer and walk back, towards the staircase.

"Wait, I… I can help you. With the seiðr and superstrength and all…" Loki also stammers and follows you.

You walk down a level in complete silence, waiting to be 100% sure no one is listening. "They will never let that die out…" Loki sighs, her hand brushing her bright red cheeks.

"Definitely… in order to make up for the embarrassment, may I tempt you to dinner? On Friday? I know a nice place," you smirk, hoping to appear less messy.

They offer you a mischievous grin, her eyes shimmering in the dark staircase. "Temptation managed,"

[midnigtartist]

7 with taakitz, which one of them would be this extra???

Thank you Nonny for my life

I gotta a little liberal with the promt here but I think the result is well worth it

7- Kissing the other persons hand before asking them to dance

2145 words because I have no goddamn chill apparently

Finally an excuse to write some wallflower Taako stuff thank thank

Taako is many things, a performer is not one of them. Above all else he’s a brother first, devoted to his sister. He’s a chef second, perhaps not professionally anymore more but cooking is a second nature, and a wizard third. He’s acquired other titles over his years of travel. Ties he would consider more distant, and less defining of himself like ‘mentor’ or “linguist’ or ‘hero’ or other silly shit like that, but performer is a whole nother ballpark. He’s a celebrity, a personality more than anything else. He puts up a good front of a charming socialite, but that’s more deception then performance.  He’s not an actor, and he’s certainly not a dancer.

Tears dried after a sentimental and blessedly short ceremony, the whole of the Fangbattle wedding party relocated over to Merle’s beachfront property for a rouqus reception. Taako’s gotta applauded the old dude’s keen eye for location, the venue is gorgeous. A little pub and grill built on an otherwise untouched strip of white sand beach, Taako can hear the crash of waves against the shore from here. Somehow they’d managed to cram everyone up on the back deck. A band, lead by Carey’s brother and a few of his other bard friends play a loud, jovial tune over the rush of the receding tide, beckoning party goers out onto the dance floor with a melody so enchanting there must be a little magic woven into the measures. Lanterns encircle the whole event, there dim glow casting swaying shadows over the floorboards as the sun starts to dip below the sea, staining the sky deep navy and bright pink. Tables draped in light linen clothes have been pushed out of the way to give the guest more room to dance and golden ivy vines creep up and along the railings of he deck. All in all a pretty classy affair, though Taako could certainly do without the ugly, tacky as hell fantasy tiki torches Merle had insisted on.

Almost everyone has found their way to the dance floor by now, even the most hesitant of guest swayed but the sweet sweet jams Jeremy is busting out on that flute. The brides haven’t left the floor since they stepped on to take their first dance, absolute shedding it out there as Killian dips and spins her newly wed wife with laughter on her lips and tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. Magnus is out there too, stomping around with Angus standing on his feet and clinging to his hands like his life depended on it, the kid looking simultaneously terrified and like he’s having the time of his fucking life. Merle, who'd’ previously been sloppily gesticulating and gyrating in a fucking vomit inducing display is now actually dancing quite nicely with his daughter and son. Equally as sticking to Taako but, like, in a sweet, overly sentimental way now. Despite the sirens call of the music however, Taako has remained dutifully seated at a table just outside the welcoming glow of those horrible torches, picking his nails and watching the laughing masses with an uneasy boredom

Lup had sweep in like storm a few moments ago, snatching up his date and dragging Kravitz out onto the dance floor in what could only be described as the power move of the century. How many liches attempt to assert dominance over the goddamn Grim Reaper via rowdy wedding dancing? Not many, he’d imagine. Taako was in goddamn stitches as he watched his panicked boyfriend get towed along by the sleeve of his jacket by his just recently embodied sister. He had to admit, watching Kravitz fumble along after Lup’s commanding lead through a complex, fast paced dance that had lots of clapping and stomping and lifts was exceptionally entertained. He’d howled with the rest when the embassy of death itself found himself being dipped quite extravagantly by the brazen lich, but halfway through the second song, they’d been swallowed up the by the crowd and Taako had lost them. And now he was just board, edging on ready to pack it up and leave. Big shindigs like this are fun for about the first hour, then Taako starts to get antsy, especially when left alone. He can’t even find Barry or Ren. A little voice in his head tells that he’d be having a much better time if he just got off his ass and went to find someone to talk to but, nice try brain he’s not about to be tricked into making himself less miserable, so you can jot that the fuck down. No, he’s just going to sit here and stew, and shoo Angus away if he tries to ask him to come dance, and dismiss anyone attempts to get him to do something fun until it’s his turned to get dragged out onto the dance floor by Lup and goaded into shuffling along to the music before he snatches up his boo and bounces before the slow jams kick on. Maybe stanch some leftover dessert pie and matching bottle of wine while they make their escape. Maybe split the bottle with Krav then fuck on the couch. Maybe drink the whole bottle by himself in the bath, then fuck Krav on the couch. Probably just go the fuck to sleep with Krav and drink it in the morning. Regardless, all future plans at this point require Kravitz,  but he’s gotta find the handsome bastard first.

He spots the aforementioned handsome bastard as he bursts out of the drunken throng, stubbing his way over towards Taako’s perch. He looks windswept. Hair tousled, locs slowly slipping from his ponytail, shirt coming untucked, laughing breathlessly. The lantern light wraps him a warm, familiar, soft orange glow that highlights the peaks of his cheekbones and deep flush of exhersion that adorns them. Taako’s stomach does a meager cartwheel and the sensation manifests itself in the form of a small, affection curl of his lips.

Openly admiring his boyfriend as he leans against the side of his chair Taako hums. “Lost you there for a second, handsome” he says

Still out of breath, Kravitz offers up a wheezing chuckle an shrug. Sweat dews along his throat and the side of his face. He reaches up with one hand and starts to undo the knot of his tie, slipping it from around his neck.

“Looks like somebody had a good time” Taako comment, leaning forward onto the arm propped up on his knee

Once again, Kravitz answers with a breathless chuckle. “Your family can be quite-”

“Exhausting?” he supplies

“I was going to say, lively” Kravitz says, now stripping off his suit jacket.

He hands it to Taako without having to be asked, which Taako is quite grateful for. As stunning as his spaghetti strap, floral print, easy-breezy springtime jumper is, it does little to protect his bare arms from the chilly sea breeze.

“Well I hope you didn’t tired yourself out there, buckaroo, because cha’boi has plans for the rest of this evening” He drapes the heavy jacket over his shoulders. It warm with the body heat of the crowd, Taako’s surprised Kravitz don’t ditch it sooner.

Kravitz nods, taking the half drunk margarita Taako pushes his way. “Should I be worried?” he asks, then knocks back the drink.

Taako shrugs, “Depends on what I settle on”

Kravitz chuckles.  He rolls up the sleeves of his floral print dress shirt, then offers an outstretched hand to him, palm up in invitation. Taako eyes it wearily.

“You better not be tryin to get me to dance.” he warn, setting his hand tentatively into Kravitz hold.

Kravitz laughs. “You? Dance?”  and here he bends at the waist, taking Taako’s hand in both of his and kissing each ring clad knuckle irreverently. “I wouldn’t dream of it” there’s a cheeky grin plastered to his face. Taako rolls his eyes in a well intention way under the other man’s overzealous swagger. “Mind accompanying me for a breath of fresh air, love?” he continues.

Taako considers him a moment, the way the firelight catches the flicks of gold in his dark eyes, cracks from which his molten heart of gold push through to the surface. One thing he really appreciates about his boyfriend is how considerate his is without having to be asked. He better attuned with his needs then Taako is himself, and he admires that about the reaper. So he lets himself be pulled gently from his chair.

“Only if you insist, darling,” he croons, pretending like he doesn’t also need a break from the noise and the light and the people.

He she kicks off his strappy, heeled sandals, Kravitz strips off his dress shoes and wads up his socks into them, and together they sneak around to the stairs

They leave the glow and laughter and cheers of the party to their back and steal into the dark twilight that’s settled over the sandy shoreline,Taako’s arm threaded through Kravitz’. The sand is still blistering hot from the heat of the day, burning the soles of Taako’s feet, enveloping his toes as he wades quick as he can towards the waters edge. Together they step over the precipice of dry beach onto the cooler sand the ocean has left wet. Kravitz takes his hand, locking warm fingers around his own like promise and they set off down the coast, teasing as close to the waves as they dare. Every so often a particularly ambitious wave splashes up around their ankles, turning the white sand caked to the tops of his feet brown.

They walk in a companionable silence for a long while. The party to the right of them, the waves and the seemingly endless sea to their left, and the moon and a million billion stars above them, bathing them both in silvery light. If he listens hard enough, Taako can just barely make out a distant melody over the crash of the rolling water and the whisper of the ocean breeze.“Did you have fun tonight Taako?” Kravitz asks, swinging their hands absently between them.

“Hell yeah, my fella” Taako says. “Hard not to with those guys.”

Taako isn’t one for small talk, doesn’t give a shit about pleasantries. So when he asks Kravitz: “Did you? ” it’s out of a genuine interest, and not just something to fill the void of dialogue.

Kravitz sighs with the breeze. “I had a lovely time.” he says. “I just- I love being around people, I love being around your family.” he squeeze Taako’s hand. “Celebrating with them, laughing with them, spending time with you. It’s been so long since I experienced community and affection like this, of being part of- of something so deeply moving as the love you all have for one another, it makes me feel so overwhelmingly- alive.”

Eventually they pause, not wanting to lose the light of the party entirely, and stare out over the dark sea. It seems endless, too big to comprehend, too deep to ever know. Taako’s stomach drops as the scope of it swallows him whole. All at once, he feels far to small and singular. He shuffles closer to Kravitz, whose body is still warm with exhersion and the collective body heat of a dozen or some drunken idiots, sets both hands of his shoulders and press his cheek into the crook of his neck.

“When Lulu and I were kids, she used to stare up at the night sky, just stand there and, uh, fuckin stare at the stars ‘n shit, like she could see her whole damn future if she looked hard enough.” he murmurs. “I couldn't’ do it though, cause you look up there and all there is is this gaping void of nothing and it was like, if you stared at it too long the world was gonna tip over and you’d fall in and get lost in all that nothing. I used to hold her hand, like I could hold her down or something, so she wouldn’t get lost. Fuckin’ uh fuckin dumb as hell right?”

Kravitz kisses the back of his head. Taako closes his eyes and leaned the full weight of his body into his gradually cooling frame.

After a long while, Taako picks up on the small swaying motion of his body. A musician at heart, Kravitz had somehow picked up the music of the party, still in full swing in the distance, and started swaying in time with the tempo. He hums along, the vibrations in his chest and his throat as he continues to move them. Taako doesn’t stop him. Instead he curl closer to his chest, laying his head against his shoulder as the other man reaches around so that both arm lay across his waist, spinning them on the spot. Not quite dancing, but something close.