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bananababblegigglemuffin · 5 days ago

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Dinner, Destinies, and a Dash of Chaos

Note: a date with Hugh Jackman turned a multiversal pickle.

The night started normally enough—if anything in your life could be called “normal” after you somehow found yourself dating Hugh Jackman. One moment, you’re adjusting your dress in the mirror, nerves twisting in your stomach because Hugh insisted on surprising you with a rooftop dinner. The next? Well, let’s just say chaos had other plans.

Hugh meets you at the door of your apartment, all rugged charm in a leather jacket and that half-smile that makes your heart race. “You ready for this, love?” he asks, his Australian drawl thick with mischief.

The two of you take the elevator up to the rooftop of some impossibly chic restaurant. Candles flicker in the breeze, a violinist plays softly in the corner, and Hugh, ever the gentleman, pulls out your chair.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all week,” he says, his eyes locking onto yours. It’s intense, the kind of gaze that makes you feel seen in ways you never thought possible.

Just as you’re about to melt into the moment, a low whirring sound interrupts the tranquility. You glance up, confused, and see… a glowing portal tearing through the air right next to your table.

“What the hell—” Hugh begins, but before either of you can react, the portal sucks you in.

Multiverse Madness

You land with a thud on a dirt road, the smell of pine trees thick in the air. Hugh is sprawled beside you, groaning. “What just happened?” he mutters, running a hand through his hair.

Before you can answer, a growl rumbles behind you. Turning, you see Logan—yes, Wolverine himself—stalking toward you, claws extended, his face a mask of suspicion.

“Who the hell are you, and why do you look like me?” Logan growls, glaring at Hugh.

“Mate, I am you,” Hugh replies, standing up and brushing off his jacket. “Well, the better-looking version, anyway.”

You groan, already feeling the tension rising. “Please, can we not do this right now?”

Before Logan can retort, another portal opens, and out steps Loki, resplendent in his green-and-gold armor, his smirk as infuriating as ever.

“Well, this is delightful,” Loki drawls, eyeing the group with amusement. “A grumpy mutant, a mortal with questionable taste in jackets, and—” His eyes land on you. “Well, aren’t you intriguing.”

You roll your eyes, refusing to be charmed. “Don’t start.”

Hugh steps protectively in front of you, his jaw tight. “Alright, who’s responsible for this mess?”

Loki raises a hand. “Guilty. But in my defense, I was bored.”

Romance Amid the Chaos

As you travel through various universes trying to find a way home—courtesy of Loki’s “accidental” portal spell—you can’t help but notice the way Hugh stays close to you, always shielding you from danger. Whether you’re running from Hydra agents in one dimension or avoiding an explosion caused by Rocket Raccoon in another, Hugh’s hand never leaves yours.

One night, as you sit around a campfire in a post-apocalyptic wasteland, Hugh pulls you aside. “You alright, love?” he asks, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“I’m fine,” you whisper, though the weight of the multiverse feels heavy on your shoulders.

He cups your cheek, his thumb tracing gentle circles. “We’ll get through this. I promise. You and me? We’re a team.”

The sincerity in his eyes nearly breaks you, and before you can overthink it, you kiss him—slow and deep, as if the universe itself has disappeared, leaving just the two of you.

Logan, of course, chooses that moment to walk by. “Get a room,” he mutters, but there’s a hint of a smirk on his face.

The Final Showdown

Eventually, Loki admits that he can’t fix the mess he’s caused without retrieving an artifact guarded by—you guessed it—Thanos in yet another universe.

“This is insane,” you mutter as you, Hugh, Logan, and Loki prepare to infiltrate the Mad Titan’s fortress.

“Insane is just another word for fun,” Loki quips, twirling his daggers.

Hugh, ever the optimist, squeezes your hand. “We’ve got this. And if we don’t… well, I’ve had a good run.”

The mission is chaotic and ridiculous—Logan slashes his way through Thanos’s minions, Hugh surprises everyone by knocking out a guard with a frying pan he found (because of course he would), and Loki, predictably, disappears the moment things get tough.

But it’s you who manages to grab the artifact, narrowly dodging Thanos’s grasp as Hugh pulls you back into the safety of another portal.

Back to Reality

You land back on the rooftop where it all started, the table still set, the candles now burned halfway down. For a moment, everything is silent.

Then Logan snorts. “Well, that was a waste of time.”

Loki, who has somehow reappeared, smirks. “Speak for yourself. I found it quite entertaining.”

Hugh ignores them both, his attention solely on you. “You alright, love?”

You nod, though your heart is still racing. “I think so.”

He smiles, that soft, crooked smile that made you fall for him in the first place. “Good. Because I still owe you a dance.”

And as the violinist begins to play once more, Hugh pulls you close, the chaos of the multiverse fading into the background.

Somewhere, Logan grumbles, “I need a drink,” while Loki watches with an amused expression.

But you don’t care about any of that. Because in this moment, it’s just you and Hugh, dancing under the stars, as if the entire universe exists just to bring you together.

End.

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perseephoneee · 2 months ago

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𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓥𝓘𝓘

In which, you, a lady of the ton, are forced to participate in courting season. Except that courting season comes with one particularly silver tongued Prince who is making it his mission to drive you absolutely insane.

↳ fic masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist

a/n: the penultimate chapter, everyone. I can't believe we've made it so far. i hope this story kinda works...it was my first time doing longform and one day i will rewrite all of this to make more sense, but for now its as it is. I love you all.

Loki knew it was improper of him to have met you without a chaperone-like that, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. He wanted, no need, to see you. Damn the consequences. Still, guilt gnawed at him. You were innocent in these games, merely appeasing a figure bigger than yourself. He could relate to that.

On Sundays, he had breakfast with his mother. Thor was usually in meetings with the Allfather, but Loki was never truly wanted there and preferred to spend time with the lady of the house anyway. Their usual tea and assortment of pastries didn’t improve wasn't his mood, though, and he still felt contemplative. Frigga noticed.

"My son, what is wrong?" She questioned, putting her teacup down. She always drank jasmine, a delicacy they got from Odin's dealings with China. She preferred the lighter floral flavor to the Queen's English breakfast tea.

"Nothing is wrong, Mother," Loki lied, the words rolling off his tongue with ease. He was always good with lies. Unfortunately, his mother was even better at seeing through them.

"It wouldn't have anything to do with the Chilton girl, would it? The one your brother didn't marry?" Frigga delicately grabbed a scone as if she were discussing the weather. She was trained to gather information without making it seem like she was. Another thing Loki learned from her.

"The mamas of the ton gathered for tea the other day, and her Grandmother was discussing it," Frigga continued on. "Dreadful woman, truly, I don't envy those two girls."

Loki hid a laugh behind his hand, coughing instead and taking another sip of tea.

"She was very loudly complaining about her youngest granddaughter's willful spirit and how it would give her a heart attack one of these days," Frigga chuckled. Loki got the sense she remembered the many times he and Thor had given her a scare.

"Some of the other mamas made comments about how you and she seemed to spend more time together than she and Thor," Frigga spooned some sugar into her tea. "So, my son, I will ask you again if anything is wrong."

Loki took a pause at that, holding his tongue. He drummed his fingers on the table.

"I won't answer things you already know."

"Did something happen?" His mother raised a brow, a challenge in her gaze. His stubbornness was less from his father and more from his mother. She could will any man into submission.

"Nothing happened, mama," Loki sighed. Not a lie. Nothing happened. Although he wanted it to happen. He wanted to press his lips to yours, breathe in your scent, hold you so you could never fall away from him. Instead, he let go. He wouldn't be the stain on your life that he is on his fathers.

Frigga pursed her lips, observing him. She set down her tea cup and rested her hands on the table, something she only did when she was about to say something of importance. Loki braced himself for a lecture.

"Your brother is not a jealous man, and your father is a hard one to please," Frigga stated. "The only thing in the way of your happiness is yourself. I did not raise a fool." With that, Frigga excused herself from tea, leaving her son alone at the table. The only sound left in the room was the clicking of the grandfather clock, the minute hand matching the pace of his thoughts.

Loki liked you. He might even love you. That was the only logical explanation for his delusions. He rubbed his eyes, hating the tension building up behind them as he thought of the chaos he had caused by even getting involved in the life of you.

"Mother said I might find you here," Thor said from the doorway, walking over to the now vacant seat. Loki glanced up as Thor poured himself some tea. Or attempted to. He spilled some creamer and burned his fingers, picking up the cup from the body, not the handle.

"You need to wait for it to cool," Loki sighed, wiping up the spilled creamer. It's appalling to Loki that his oaf of a brother is the one expected to take over the Odinson household.

"I don't often drink tea."

"Clearly."

"But that's not why I'm here, brother," Thor ignores his jab, gingerly sipping his tea and visibly relaxing when it doesn't burn his tongue.

"Oh joy," Loki leaves the table, strolling towards one of the setees. He, of course, does this quite dramatically.

"I always thought you be clever, but I am shocked to find you acting so idiotic," Thor puts his tea down, standing up and heading Loki's way.

"How dare you–"

"Lady Y/N is obviously enamored with you, and you with her. I don't understand why you aren't doing anything about it," Thor sighs. "Is it your own stubbornness? A sense of pride? Please explain it to me."

"I am not enamored with her, and it is not stubbornness," Loki hisses. "She can do better than me, a second son, anyway."

"Is that what you truly believe? That you are really just a second son?"

Loki doesn't respond to that. He just stares out of the window overlooking the room. His mother was inspired by Greek architecture and, therefore, put arched pillars as separators for the open windows. They overlooked the veranda, which was starting to transition into autumn. Oh, how time has passed.

"I will be leaving for France in the coming months."

Loki turned to his brother, hiding a shock that otherwise would have covered his face.

"Leaving? For what?"

"For war," Thor said. "Napolean is out of exile, and his troops are approaching Waterloo. I intend to be there alongside my brothers."

"You must be mad."

"Perhaps," Thor laughed. "But I have always wanted to fight, not to sit behind a desk and manage the affairs of a household. You have always been a better diplomat. I much prefer being a soldier." His brother took a seat on the settee, running a hand through his hair and waiting for Loki to sit down. "Allfather will be declaring you the heir as soon as you are wed. So, no, Loki, you are not the second son. You are the better one."

"I don't deserve you," Loki frowned, finally sitting down next to Thor. "You are a better brother than I could ever be."

"Life has not always been kind to you; that is alright; you are learning," Thor said, placing a hand on Loki's shoulder, demanding his attention. "You deserve peace, and you are allowed to have it."

It is not often that Loki becomes emotional. He is used to putting aside his own wants for the needs of the crown. He is used to enduring verbal backlash from his father over every little thing. He is used to being ignored when his brother enters a room. So often, he felt like a tablepiece in his own home. But truly, he was an idiot. His brother saw him the whole time.

Without another word, Loki embraced his brother, shocking them both. He was done being a tablepiece. He wanted to be seen.

"Letter!" Ivy screamed from the bottom of the stairs, immediately being shushed by one of the housekeepers. Immediately after your rendezvous with Loki, you had told Ivy everything. All of your fears, wants, and concerns. You had actively been courted by Thor; you couldn't pursue Loki. But he put you in a compromising position that could have gotten you in trouble in society. Did you like Loki? Or did you convince yourself you did? These were the questions swirling around your brain all week. Ivy was in favor of you running off and eloping if only to annoy Grandmother. You hit her with a pillow for that statement.

"Why would I be receiving a letter?" You ask, descending the stairs as you glared at the offending item.

"No clue, but I think you should look at it," Ivy said coyly. You got the distinct impression she knew exactly what this letter was about. You took it out of her grasp, peeling off the wax seal and reading the inked words.

Meet me at the ball by midnight tonight when we first conversed.

Loki

"So?" Ivy peered over your shoulder. "What did he say?"

"Poetic things," you drawled. "He has such a way with words."

"You're lucky the man likes your sharp tongue; otherwise, you'd scare off all the suitors," Ivy sighed. You suppressed a small smile. "So? Are you going?"

"Did you write this?" You ask her, turning around and crossing your arms.

"Of course I didn't!"

"Really?"

"I am not one to lie, sister," Ivy grabbed your hands, pulling you closer. "I am only the messenger. A messenger that is urging you to listen for once in your life." You only glared at your sister.

"I have nothing to wear."

"I already bought you a dress."

"You've been planning this, haven't you?"

"Perhaps," Ivy shrugged. "Now, c'mon! I want enough time to transform you."

You indeed didn't have a choice. Ivy was persistent when she set her mind to something. She yanked your hair left and right to transform it into a perfectly curled and pinned high bun. The dress she chose was unlike anything you had ever seen before, and you had no clue where she could've possibly afforded something like it. It was a deep green with a traditional empire waist, but the bodice was covered in a lacy emerald green fabric and decorated with a glimmery trim. The skirt faded to a lighter emerald green at the bottom, giving the appearance of a forest being lit up by the sunrise. You wore your mother's necklace to match, something that grounded the outfit into something wholesome yet romantic.

"You look ethereal," Ivy looked at you in the vanity mirror. "You look like Mom."

You smiled, turning around to envelop your sister in a hug. "I love you, Ivy." She just squeezed you tighter. "I never want to go to another ball again; this is ridiculously tiresome." Ivy laughed at that and let you go, smoothing down the parts of your dress that got scrunched up.

This event took place outside, a last-ditch effort to enjoy the weather before winter set in. The ball was set on the lake, with a variety of lanterns floating through the waters and hanging around the pavilion where guests danced. It looked like a twinkling city, and it was one of the few times when your breath was taken away.

You were already getting more stares than usual from other people, perhaps because it was the first time you dressed up. Or perhaps because everyone knew that Thor didn't propose to you. You ignored their stares and found the first drink you could. It was a long way till midnight, and your nerves were already getting the better of you. You hiked up your skirts and found your way to the water's edge, where workers were helping guests set out lanterns of their own. You asked one of them if the lights were just for decoration or if there was a specific meaning.

"To drive out the darkness of winter and hope for a longer spring, m'lady," he bowed, offering you a lantern of your own. You accepted graciously, finding a quiet place farther down the shore to push your lantern out.

"Making a wish?" a familiar voice said. You turned to see Loki, arms crossed and looking every bit the prince he was meant to be.

"Driving away the darkness, at least that's what they told me," you gestured towards where most of the partygoers were.

"I believe in some traditions; it is also to honor the dead."

"What a somber occasion for a party."

"I surmise they didn't truly know the reason; they thought it would be pretty." Loki shrugged, earning a chuckle from you. You closed up again, remembering that awkward encounter all those nights ago. Turning to your lantern, you looked at the water before returning to the prince.

"We need more lanterns," you declared, marching back to the initial servant who gave you yours. Loki followed behind, not saying anything, but you could tell he wanted to ask. You got three more lanterns and passed two to Loki, returning to the spot you scoped out before.

"Do I dare ask what you're doing?"

"Honoring the deceased," you crouched down, taking one of the lanterns from Loki so you had three. He joined you on the ground, letting you have a moment with your three lanterns. Taking a breath, you pushed them all out on the water. He waited for a second to let his drift away as well.

"To your sister," you said, bowing your head slightly.

"To your family, may they find brighter shores," Loki breathed, eyes softening as he looked at you.

You both continued sitting on the shores, not making a move to get up. If anyone caught you in this position, it would be trouble, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care.

"We can't go back, can we?" you whispered, looking out at the lanterns getting farther and farther from shore.

"No, we can't."

"Then, why haven't you asked me?" your voice cracked slightly, your eyes finding Loki's.

"Because I'm worried I don't deserve you."

"That isn't up to you to decide, is it?" you inquired, raising a brow. Loki's mouth tilted up in a smile as if trying his best to suppress it but failing miserably.

"I should probably ask then."

"Most likely, before the fireworks start and I am unable to hear you stumble through your speech," you jested, sliding back into your old routine so easily. Loki sat up, offering you a hand, which you took gratefully as you smoothed out, your dress.

"Such a sharp tongue on you; will that ever change?" Loki questioned.

"Most likely not."

"Good," Loki grinned. "I wouldn't want anything else."

"You're stalling."

"I might be a wordsmith, but being vulnerable is not something I particularly enjoy," Loki responded. "But with you, I am forced to be vulnerable, and it rather terrifies me. Except, I keep coming back despite that fear because a day without you is a day without the sun." Loki let out a breath, brows furrowed. He looked so serious, and you thought you had never seen him so handsome. "Y/N…marry me."

"Yes," you responded, grinning. "Now, I think I am owed something."

"Yes, yes you are."

Loki wasted no time in pressing his lips to yours, gentle yet strong in a way that had you yearning for more. The fireworks erupted in the background, the party cheering for the colorful display of lights and excitement. You yourself felt like a firework, quickly bursting into a million specks coating the sky. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

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