#not as long as *the* Loki frozen heart fic but like
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the-maladjustedjester · 1 year ago
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Three days after hospitalization for antidepressant withdrawal I am now 2k words into the motel suicide fic. I’m sure there’s no correlation
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queen-of-meows · 6 months ago
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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers! Spread the self-love 💞
Thank you for this lovely ask ! I really needed it because I feel like I should promote my work more ^^.
5- Hell Frozen Rain
“Good afternoon. You know why you are here today ?” he asked to the Variant, but he was met with stubborn silence. “First of all, I want to remind you it's pefectly okay if you want to stop the session at anytime. You have seen several Analysts before and I know none of them has made any significant progress with you. But that's okay, I am a patient man. The goal of this session is to reconstitute the series of event that led you to your current situation and to help you to reintegrate a timeline that fits your need. Are you ready ? Where do you want to start ? Okay. Giving the particular nature of this case, the TVA doesn't have any footage that could be useful for this session. I hope you are aware this is not an interrogation, right ? Despite anything you might have convinced yourself of, you didn't do anything wrong. Nothing of what happened this night was your fault.” Mobius M Mobius had been the most professional Analyst his whole life, but something troubled him about this new case he had been asigned to. Why does he feel so much compassion for this Variant, and most important, what horrible, unspeakable thing happened to the woman named Sylvie Laufeydottir ?
I am not entirly satisfied with this on and I was thinking about rewriting it one day, but I think it's still worth mentioning it. It's a pretty short psychological thriller I wrote for Halloween a few years ago, based on my favourite Silent Hill game, Shattered Memories.
4- When she sings, she sings come home
Ghosts crave to go home. They live between the walls, in the interstices that separate one second to the next, in the limbo between sleep and wake. Home is forever out of reach to them, a when that can never become a there. Loki has spent a long time fighting against the TVA and Kang, and he'd like to finally return to Asgard, or whatever is left of it. He knows it won't be easy, but he wants to try anyway.
An undertermined time after the end of the series, Loki goes to New Asgard to visit Thor, but instead he finds Sif and the two of them catch up on the last decades.
Bittersweet reunion, past Sifki implied, mentions of Sylki and Thor/Sif.
3-Heart asks pleasure first
Ravonna was gone from the TVA, but the TVA had never really let Ravonna go. Only Mobius could understand. Using of patience and empathy, the former TVA analyst does his best to reach his oldest friend, and hopefully show her there is more to hope than there is to fear.
During a mission on Sakaar, Loki and Mobius ran into Ravonna Renslayer. They rescue (kidnap ?) her and take her to New Asgard. This story explore what happens during the following days. It's mostly long dialogues between Mobius and Ravonna about order, chaos and what we chose to fight for.
2- A warm bowl of soup
Mobius is going to leave the TVA for good to join Loki in New Asgard. In the Void, he asks Lady Loki to teach him how to make a good soup. But the reciepe of the butternut squash soup is not the only mystery he hopes to unveil.
This one-shot explores the relationship between Mobius and my beloved Lady Loki OC as she teaches him how to make butternut squash soup and opens up about her backstory.
1- The Little Bard's Tale
Dear reader (you are probably me in the future, so hi future me !), I found a blank journal and a pen today. I thought I might take them and write something. I don't really know what to write, or if I can write anything that will be worth reading one day. My name is Loki. For a long, long time I thought I'd never hear anyone call my name again, but I was wrong. I was very, very wrong, because there are a lot of other poeple called Loki in this place. And there's Sylvie who was also named Loki a long time ago. This story is not about the war raging on all across the Multiverse, or the brave heroes fighting for peace. In the Void, the war seems far away, but it doesn't mean we don't care. One day Mr Mobius came here with a lost girl named Rebecca. She is very important for the Council of Kangs and she's even more important for me. This is our story, as told by your favourite storyteller !
Okay, shameless promotion for the Little Bard's Tale because it's the story I have been focusing on in 2024 and it's probably the most personal thing I have written for a while. This is a story about finding joy and a purpose in life even when you don't exactly fit in.
The Little Bard has become like a companion in my daily adventures ☺️.
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galaxythreads · 2 months ago
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May I ask about science says no, but my heart says otherwise and slave loki fic ?
science says no, but my heart says otherwise:
idk if this fic is ever going to be finished, which makes me sad. I worked really hard on it. Idk, i need to talk to my friend. It's an alt pov fic for a fic she was writing about tony haunting peter post spider-man 3. She had tony's pov, I was doing peter's because i was obsessed with it, but i'd feel weird posting this without her permission, and we don't talk that much anymore since she started uni.
snippet:
He feels so, so young. 
“Karen,” Peter whispers, his voice sounding clogged. He waits, feeling despair beginning to claw up through his body for every microsecond passes where there’s nothing then--
“Yes?” Karen says. 
Peter feels his body get seized by a sudden, intense, paralysis, so cold and hot at once that he thinks he might pass out. She still exists. She’s real. Peter--
Oh god.
Here it goes. 
“Do you--do you--” he can’t get the question out. He doesn’t want to know the answer. He ducks his head, his hands shaking from where they’re buried against his chest before he says softly, “do you still remember me?” 
And.
Please.
Please, God, I’d given anything--
“Yes, Peter,” Karen says, and if Peter didn’t know better, she sounds faintly confused as if the unspoken why wouldn’t I is hanging in the air, “I remember you.” 
And Peter can almost see her starting to rile through the internet, trying to figure out why he would even bother with the question and Peter wants to scream at her no. Just in case. Just in case. His phone remembered for a second and then-- 
Peter falls apart. He collapses against the side of the bed onto his knees, sobbing harshly, any mental fortitude he was pretending to possess breaking. Sliding away like he was never trying in the first place. 
“Th-thank you,” Peter stutters out to Karen, as if she made an executive decision to say I’m good, no thanks to Dr. Strange’s spell. 
Then he freezes. 
That--that thing spoke again. The next sob catches in his throat, not out of curiosity but terror. Something is watching him. Peter lifts his head up, holding impossibly still. Waiting for something to stab him, or push him in front of a train, something. The room is empty. Just like it was before. He squeezes his eyes shut. Why does he--
He really is, honest to God, losing his mind. 
Or--
Or. 
“Karen?” his voice is strangled. 
“Yes, Peter?” 
He can’t. He can’t begin to explain how much it makes him want to cry that she’s calling him by his name. She knows who he is. She remembers their history. It didn’t go away. She’s here. She cares. She knows his name.
But then he remembers the voice. And the presence. 
“Is--is there anyone in the room with me?” he whispers.
Karen is quiet for a long moment, scanning, checking, and Peter can feel terror creeping up his face. Then--“All illusions are down, and will remain that way, if that is what you’re asking, Peter.”
Peter’s body relaxes, a little, at that, as if he’s been waiting for those words for weeks. He has, he thinks. He really, really has. He closes his eyes, squeezing them tightly until it makes his head ache. 
There’s a murmur in the air, like a sound being caught in suspension, and Peter shakes his head, trying to force it out. There’s nothing there. There’s nothing there. Beck isn’t playing with him. No one is. Peter is alone. 
“Thanks, Karen,” Peter whispers softly. 
“Anytime, Peter,” Karen says quietly. Her voice is almost sad.
slave loki fic:
it's this au where jane marries thor like 3-4 years after they meet, and when she gets taken to asgard for the wedding, she runs into loki, who was made a slave after the avengers, and she slowly forms a bond with him
snippet
“Please don’t do this.” The servant sounds close to begging and Jane hesitates for the briefest moment, lifting her gaze up to his face again, hands still against the edges of her shawl. The Asgardian’s hands are frozen on top of the glass, green eyes settled on her face without breaking contact. Without breathing.
He looks terrified.
Something uncomfortable churns in her gut at this. He shouldn’t be frightened of her. She’s just...Jane. She won’t do anything to him. She’s not even angry anymore. It’s just a skirt, and it’s not as though her appearance is flawless. She hasn’t brushed her hair in at least three days now and her make-up is the remnants of yesterdays and a hastily put-on mascara this morning.  
 “Hey,” Jane tries, dropping her tone to be something more gentle. It reminds her oddly of trying to coax a stray cat out of hiding. “It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong, I bumped into you.”
The green eyes flick back to the stone floor. They’ve spent a majority of this conversation pinned there, and the servant seems to have almost forgotten to continue the trend until now. Jane presses her lips together, at a loss, but pushes forward. Removing the shawl and shaking her head to get it loose from the pins sticking her messy bun together, she rests it on the ground on top of the broken glass and not-cheese.
The servant’s fists visibly clench, a tightness spreading between his shoulders. Closing his eyes for the briefest moment, he exhales slowly. 
Jane frowns, but says nothing, waiting for the liquid to seep into the clothing all together. Bits of glass are poking up through the fabric and digging at her fingers, but keeping her grip lax against the shawl seems to help the worst of the pain. 
Mopping up the not-cheese, Jane glances at the wary servant and inwardly wrestles with herself for a moment before asking, “Hey, um, you wouldn’t happen to know a faster direction the Great Hall, would you? I’m not exactly...familiar with Asgard yet.”
Excuses.
She has been living here for close to three years. She knows how to get there. What she needs is a native’s shortcut. Thor has tried to show her a few, but once he stepped inside the inner tunnels of the palace, she’d been lost. There’s so many complex layers to the building that she can’t imagine anyone actually using it, let alone memorizing anything.
The servant’s brow furrows for the briefest moment with confusion before it smooths over and his lips part, a ragged breath slipping through them. “You are Thor’s wife.” The statement is flat. There is no indication on how the man feels about this, only that recognition has sparked.
“Yeah. Jane,” she supplies, staring at him carefully. How can they have not been close enough that he didn’t recognize her on the spot and she can’t shake off familiarity? She knows she’s seen him somewhere. 
A piece of glass digs into her finger and she winces, drawing it back sharply and instinctively stuffing it into her mouth. It tastes of blood and has a faint yeast-like aftertaste, which she attributes to the not-cheese. 
“My lady, please, I can handle this.” The servant says, eyes wide around the edges. “You needn’t harm yourself with my mistake.” He reaches for the cloth, but she smacks his hand away, shaking her head. Popping her bleeding finger out, she wipes the cut against her already ruined skirts. The wound hurts like a papercut, sharp and piercing. 
Distantly, she thinks she hears someone walking down the hall. “No. I broke the bowl, remember? I can clean up my mess.” 
“My lady--”
“What is going on here!?” a crisp voice demands and Jane jumps with surprise. The servant seems to topple, head dipping down completely and he curls into himself as much as possible, words dying on his tongue. He looks prepared to receive a blow or at least sharp rebuke, and the sight strikes her as odd. She shakes it off and looks up at the source of the voice.
She hadn’t even heard them round the corner, to focused on getting the servant to stop trying to stop her from helping him. The man is tall, but round, sporting a red-white beard with big bushy eyebrows in need of a trim. His eyes are narrowed angrily and jaw set tightly. He’s dressed in the thick garb needed for the royal feast-gala-whatever-it-is-today, unlike her.
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lazysublimeengineer · 11 months ago
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these chemicals hit me like white wine
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Summary: Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?
Characters: Itoshi Rin & Nanase Nijiro
(A/N: Please be mindful of the tags and rating of this fic. I don’t want any unnecessary complaints where it was obviously stated from the start that this is not innocent fluff in the first place. Y’know who you are so I advise you to hit the back button if this bothers you. But for my other fellow readers who are okay with this then proceed in reading some gratuitous smut in my server. Inspired by the song, “The Alchemy” from Taylor Swift’s latest album, “The Tortured Poets Department” and the recent cover of Nanase in volume 29 of the manga. I don’t own anything from this franchise. Respective ownership belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura for this wonderful manga and Taylor Swift for this love song.)
This happens once every few lifetimes These chemicals hit me like white wine
What if I told you I'm back? The hospital was a drag Worst sleep that I ever had I circled you on a map I haven't come around in so long But I'm coming back so strong
With Charles finally getting himself benched in the middle of the match because of boredom, PxG’s options dwindled a little.
It still wasn’t the right time for their coaches to step into the match, so they’ll have to do whatever it takes to prevent BM from scoring another goal in this round.
Rin ground his teeth as he shot a murderous glare at Charles’ direction who doesn’t give a care in the world and sitting happily beside Loki who looked like he was on the verge of having aneurysm at his antics.
“Fuck...!” He cursed under his breath as he tore his gaze away from him and landed in Isagi’s direction who was cheering enthusiastically with his other teammates when he scored a goal.
“Fucking lukewarm. The match isn’t over yet.” He grumbled under his breath when his eyes landed on a familiar figure on the other side of the pitch.
Determined blue eyes clashing against his intense teal irises.
Rin knew that gaze.
Nanase was ready to do everything and help him become the hero of this team.
So when I touch down Call the amateurs and Cut 'em from the team Ditch the clowns, get the crown Baby I'm the one to beat Cause the sign on your heart Said it's still reserved for me Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?
There was only a brief lapse of time that they stayed frozen in their spots as soon as they saw the ball bounce off and missed the post before Nanase came sprinting forward with adrenaline and determination pumping up in his veins.
With Kaiser completely missing a goal, they needed to take advantage and grab the opportunity for themselves.
Nanase wouldn’t just sit around and let the opponent win nor Shidou take the winning goal once again.
He needed to get his shit together and give everything he had to Rin to win and survive this program.
Their eyes met as soon as he took the ball under his heel.
He was putting everything on the line when he sent the ball flying in his direction.
He was putting his faith not only in himself but also in Rin who could be their hero on this team.
“Go, Rin! I have faith in you!” He yelled determinedly.
Hey you, what if I told you we're cool? That child's play back in school Is forgiven under my rule I haven't come around in so long But I'm making a comeback to where I belong ...
His teal eyes grew wide at Nanase’s loud declaration, trapping the ball perfectly on his heel.
Rin was used to people cheering on him ever since he was a kid mainly because he was the sibling of a genius midfielder and Japan’s treasure, Itoshi Sae.
But it had also come with a price as Rin knew that despite his efforts and hard work, people would always compare and associate him with his elder brother, which reduced him as a faint shadow looming in the background.
And he wasn’t fine with that.
He had to prove to Sae and to everyone else that he was better, and he could stand on his own without the crutches of the success of his own brother shadowing over him.
Nanase’s eyes shone brightly with confidence, determination...
...
And a complete trust of faith to him.
It made his heart pound wildly inside his chest.
He wanted more... more... and more...
And he will never let him go until he can have him all by himself.
“Never take your eyes away from me bumpkin and watch me make put these NPCs to where they belong.”
Rin was completely unstoppable as he dribbled towards the opponents and made a double feint, passing by the shocked defenders as he finally kicked the ball ferociously and sent it flying inside the net.
The resounding roars of success from the audience and his teammates filled the background as he scored the winning goal for their team.
But none of it matters when Nanase came rushing towards his side and carried him victoriously into his arms.
So when I touch down Call the amateurs and Cut 'em from the team Ditch the clowns, get the crown Baby I'm the one to beat Cause the sign on your heart Said it's still reserved for me Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?
These blokes warm the benches We been on a winning streak He jokes that it's heroin but this time with an "E" Cause the sign on your heart said it's still reserved for me Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?
“Fuck! Rinrin exploding on the field once again and leaving the others into dust!” Shidou cackled and joined in their victory.
“Ya betcha! Damn! That goal will be all over the social medias for weeks!” Karasu grinned widely.
“I-I’m g-glad that w-we won!” Tokimitsu cheered in half anxiousness and half cheerfulness.
Rin just let himself basked into the afterglow of victory and the warmth of Nanase’s arms carrying him.
“Yeah! Rin is amazing as always!” Nanase exclaimed happily.
“That goal wouldn’t be also possible if it weren’t for you bumpkin so consider it as your victory in your hands as well.” Rin commented and glanced at him.
If the others were surprised by Rin’s sudden open declaration of affirming his talent and skill without any barbed insults, it didn’t show in their faces as they still basked in at their victory against the opponent.
Nevertheless, Nanase was taken aback by his words, a comforting warmth spreading all over him as he smiled at Rin’s direction with a complete fondness washing his entire being.
Shirts off, and your friends lift you up over their heads Beer sticking to the floor Cheers chanted, cause they said There was no chance, trying to be The greatest in the league Where's the trophy? He just comes running over to me
Clothes were thrown off recklessly on the ground inside the murky halls of the room.
The cold draft of air emitting from the air conditioner did nothing to soothe the furnace of desire and burning need blazing from their bodies as Nanase’ mouth lingered on the pale column of his throat and decorated it with eager kisses and faint nibbles on the sensitive flesh of his skin.
A low moan escaped from Rin’s lips as he wrapped his legs tightly on Nanase’s hips and his hands grappled firmly on his back while his insides were getting piston in wild abandon by Nanase’s cock and stretched his quivering walls to the limit.
“Fuck! You were so good out there Rin... Hhhh... You’re so beautiful like this as well... You deserve everything...” Nanase groaned against his skin as he felt his walls clamp on his cock like a vice making his thrusts deeper and harder in return.
“Ngh... Bumpkin... Fuck...! Getting bigger inside of me...!” A soft mewl escaped from Rin’s drooling lips as his body shook like a leaf beneath him, trying to match his movements underneath him as Nanase didn’t hold back and continued to rail him ferociously on the mattress making the bed creak slightly from their wild movements.
“Ah... S-sorry... C-can't help myself when you’re laid out like this prettily under me...” Nanase breathed out as he couldn’t help himself and sought his lips in a wild and dirty kiss.
Rin kissed him back fervently, their tongues dancing wildly with each other as drool trickled down their lips.
“I-I’m fucking close...” He murmured against his lips.
“Do it inside. You’re the only one that gets to do this with me, got it? As long as you’re my property, your eyes should be only for me got it bumpkin?” He mumbled back hotly as he licked at the roof of his mouth.
Nanase shuddered as his body convulsed and reached his peak, painting his insides in the white ropes of his cum.
“Of course, Rin. I belong to you as much as you belong to me in return.”
Nanase held him on his arms as Rin reached his orgasm, moans and grunts of pleasure surrounded the four walls of their room throughout the night.
Touch down Call the amateurs and Cut 'em from the team Ditch the clowns, get the crown Baby I'm the one to beat Cause the sign on your heart Said it's still reserved for me Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?
These blokes warm the benches We been on a winning streak He jokes that it's heroin but this time with an "E" Cause the sign on your heart said it's still reserved for me Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?
This happens once every few lifetimes These chemicals hit me like white wine
(A/N: As soon as I saw the volume 29 cover of the manga with Nanase sporting a feral determination on his face, I knew I had to write this down. Like it screams Top Nanase y’all and I don’t wanna let go of this golden opportunity bestowed to us by the creator themselves. Also, the song, “The Alchemy” fits them. The lyrics scream victory over a soccer match and then the winner came running to his lover for some celebratory embrace. Lastly, if we don’t get a victorious pose of Rin and Nanase like that thigh riding pose of Isagi and Hiori back to the Ubers match then what the hell are we still doing here? Reviews are amusing so let me hear them from you.)
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mcufan72 · 2 years ago
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Cold winter days, a lonely woman on a bench, a stranger in the park...
An Encounter in Winter ❄️
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Loki and female reader
18+/adult themes/talking/flirting/slow burn/fluff/angst/smut (eventually)
A/N: this is a Loki x female reader AU. It's the most personal story I've written so far and I put my whole heart, blood, sweat and tears into it. It's a story about love and my protagonists talk a lot with each other. It's a slow burn but eventually, there will be smut.
I've never been to New York or Norway, all my descriptions are fictionalized. Also, my usage of MCU facts is incorrect and I don't delve deep into details here. I use it as I need it for my little story you hopefully like and enjoy!
This fic mentions an accident and alcoholism but only in one chapter. Descriptions are vague and not detailed. If any of it should trigger you, please don't read. Every chapter will have a warning if necessary.
Some things here are heavily inspired by @lokisprettygirl 's writing. Loki smelling like sandalwood and the overly sensitive lines on his skin when he's in his Jotun form are things I read in her fics first (HMN and TNSATSI). A big thank you to you, my friend, for being in agreement that I'm using it in my fic here, too. And also a big thank you for your constant support and encouragement. You know how much it means to me.
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2 here
It was a cold winter afternoon, Christmas day and New Year's Eve only a few weeks away. This year it was already very cold in New York City and you had to wear warming, cuddly winter clothing for your daily walks in the park. Today you chose a knee-long woollen black dress that hugged your body perfectly, warm stockings, a pair of warm leather boots, a thick black winter coat, a big-sized fluffy scarf in shades of green and your favourite knitted beanie with the dark green big bobble…and not to forget your matching knitted gloves.
Warnings: none so far, just some flirting
After you got dressed, you were on the way to the park. Walking to that place and spending some time there after work became a ritual for you since you moved to this city around springtime. Your favourite place there was a bench at the little lake and you loved to sit there, especially when the sun was shining.
You had a fantastic view over the lake here. There was also a large lawn where people could sit, do sports or have a picnic and there was plenty of space for children to run and play safely. You loved to sit on that bench, secretly you called it yours, and you loved to watch the people here being happy and having fun. Somehow it warmed your heart to see all the couples in love flirting with each other or the families on their Sunday walks. You could have had it too, all of it but … it wasn't meant to be. Not for you.
After everything that happened and went wrong in your life, you had the urgent need to leave your hometown. You needed that distance from your old life. You had worked in many different big cities like London, Berlin, Oslo and you never had any trouble finding a job.
And now it's New York. You hadn't gotten the job you originally wanted to get but it was fine for now. Most important for you was that this city had the right measure of distance to your previous home. Besides, there was no one left there who would worry about you. It seemed you were destined to be alone so you couldn't disappoint or hurt anyone anymore.
Now in the winter time, the shallow lake was completely frozen and the first snow had already fallen. The kids built snowmen with their friends or their parents, had snowball fights or made snow angels. Some people enjoyed ice skating on the lake. It made you smile when you saw how much fun they had.
You let your gaze wander over the scenery and you soaked up every beautiful moment of it as you did every single day when you were sitting here. It always calmed you down from your stressful job and it was also a calming distraction in general.
On the bench next to yours sat a man, watching the lake and the people like you were doing, an old married couple and their dog were walking past you and you greeted each other kindly. When you began to freeze you decided to go back home. You were hungry and tired and after a hot shower, you went to sleep.
The next day at work was a very hard one. Your job as a medical assistant at a medical care centre exhausted you more and more recently, there were so many people to take care of. So today's walk in the park was extremely welcomed.
When you had taken a seat on your bench you first soaked up the peaceful atmosphere. You closed your eyes and took several deep breaths and you felt better immediately. Your gaze wandered around and on the bench next to yours sat a man again. Wasn't that the same man as yesterday? You weren't sure and you didn't think about it further.
His gaze wandered around and he watched the people in the park. He enjoyed the atmosphere here, it calmed him down in a pleasant way yesterday and so he decided to come here more often. It was a good distraction for him from the hard and strenuous trips and missions he has to make regularly.
On the bench next to him sat a woman. Wasn't that the same woman as yesterday? It should be you, you wore the same unique beanie with the big dark green bobble. He will be here again tomorrow. Maybe you'll be here again too.
The next few days went by in the same routine and as every day you visited the park. And as every day…the man on the bench next to yours was there again, too. Sitting there like you, alone like you. How come you had never noticed him here except in the last few days? You came daily here for months now but you had never seen him here. Maybe he had just discovered this place here recently and it seemed he liked this place as much as you did.
Today you allowed yourself to look a little bit longer at him. He was well dressed, in a black suit, black leather ankle boots and a coat that seemed to be too thin for the cold weather. His raven hair was slicked back and reached far over his shoulders.
Even when he sat there with loosely crossed legs you could see how long and well-trained they were. Also otherwise he seemed to be very attractive. When he turned his head in your direction and glanced at you, you looked away quickly. You felt caught staring at him and you hoped he couldn't see your reddened cheeks.
The next day you came to the park again as he hoped you would do. Same time, same place. And you were alone again. Did you wait for someone who never comes? You sat down and watched the scenery like every day. Whenever you did not look in his direction he observed you secretly. Not in a weird way, he would never do something like that. He was just curious and you looked cute with your knitted beanie with the big bobble, cuddled up into your fluffy scarf.
Yesterday you two looked at each other for a very short moment but unfortunately, you looked away quickly. He liked your pretty face and he thought he saw your cheeks reddening when he caught you staring at him.
He would like to get you known but he would never dare to address you. He would never bother you. You seemed not to be the kind of woman he usually asked to spend the night with him. He couldn't really describe what it was but there was a special aura surrounding you. You seemed discreet…and lonely.
There was something about you that evoked his protective instinct and so he decided to return to the park and this bench daily to have a look if you might be there again, too. You radiated so much peace and kindness and it made him feel comfortable. He just wanted to see you. Nothing more.
When you arrived at the park in the early afternoon at your bench, the handsome stranger was already there again, staring at the lake. It seemed he didn't even recognize you. You had the feeling of being protected by him only through his presence. But maybe it was just your imagination or wishful thinking because he was a great, tall, noble statue of a man. You had fallen for something like this before…
Nonetheless, he has intrigued you and you were wondering why he was here every day now too, on his bench and every day at the same time…at the same time as you. This morning before you went to work you decided that today would be the day when you would address him. You had nothing to lose so you would give it a chance. Of course, he was a stranger and maybe you should not talk to him but you felt drawn to him somehow.
After half an hour of sitting on your bench, you gathered all your courage and went over to him. You felt a bit nervous because normally you would never do that. But nothing in your life was normal anymore. You knew it could be dangerous to talk to a stranger. But there were so many people here around you that you felt safe enough to talk to him. And why shouldn't two lonely people talk to each other? Could be nice, couldn't it?
"May I?" you asked the well-dressed man with the black, slicked-back long hair.
Unlike before when you just looked at him from afar, you now realized how handsome he actually was. Before today you had mostly only looked at him from the corners of your eyes because you never wanted to stare at him.
He had a sharp jawline, high cheekbones, small but seductive lips, curved into a slightly mischievous smile, a straight beautiful nose and irresistible piercing baby-blue eyes…he looked like a prince, his appearance was flawless, godly. Like every day he wore a perfectly tailored black suit, a light cashmere coat and a light-woollen scarf, just loosely wrapped around his neck.
You still wondered if the cold didn't affect him because he wore clothes like this every day.
He widened his eyes and raised his eyebrows when he looked up at you, directly into your eyes. You nearly forgot to breathe. He made you shiver with excitement.
"Of course! Please, take a seat" he answered while he rose from the bench.
His gaze softened and he made an inviting gesture with his hand. His smooth dark voice caused goosebumps on your skin under your cosy and warming clothes and you smiled at him.
"Thank you, Sir" and the both of you sat down again simultaneously, facing each other.
"You might be surprised why I'm talking to you. Normally I don't do that." You smiled at him, almost apologetically.
"Normally you don't? But now you do!" he smirked at you, seemingly amused.
"Ahhmm…I'm sorry, maybe…maybe it wasn't a good idea…ahhmm…believe me it was the last thing on my mind to inconvenience you, I'm sorry! I guess I'd better get going" and you wanted to get up and leave. How embarrassing, what had gotten into you?
"No, no young Lady, please stay!"
His deep baritone and the friendly tone in his voice stopped your want to leave. You smiled at him again but you still felt embarrassed and you felt your cheeks blushing. He was a fascinating man and his eyes seemed to stare deep into your soul. You were sure you could neither lie to a man like him nor not like him. You took a deep breath before you found your voice again.
"I recognized you being here every day like me, alone…just like me. And I thought maybe we could sit here together and talk to each other…but of course…only if you want."
"Believe me or not, I had the same thought but I would never have spoken to you. You know, I didn't mean to come at you like that."
"Oh, that's very decent, Sir. Not every man is like this" and you smiled at each other.
"I just …watched you from afar. Sounds weird, doesn't it? But I was conce–…I noticed you're coming to the park every day, too. Aren't you afraid to sit here every afternoon alone?" he asked you and his concern was genuine.
"To be honest…no! No, I'm not. There are so many people here every day in the afternoons, I feel safe so far." you explained.
"I've been visiting the park every day for months now and never something bad happened. Of course, something bad could happen every day. I also know that this city was attacked by aliens several years ago, but that's not how I want to live…every day expecting the worst, no!" and you shook your head. Bad days you've had more than enough.
"I always hope that every day will just offer the best things to me" you said thoughtfully and smiled.
"And now you are here every day…you could protect me if you want," you said to him and laughed.
"…no no, I'm just kidding, don't take me too seriously!" You smiled at him while you pulled your beanie right.
You were cute, really cute. Your smile was warming, your attitude was friendly, and you also seemed to be strong and confident…with a hint of sadness. He got to know many women and with most of them, he was intimately involved. With some of them he had also nice conversations but none of them was like you.
"I would do that immediately for you, my Lady. I would never let someone harm you."
He genuinely meant it and he gave you a friendly grin. But he was sure if you had known who he really was and what he did in the past, you would never allow him to do that.
"You're truly a gentleman…but please, I'm not a Lady…I'm y/n " and you offered him a handshake with your gloved hand, a radiant smile on your lips.
He took your hand and held your fingers with his, lifted your hand carefully upwards, bowed down his head and gave an implied kiss to the back of your gloved hand. When he lifted his head upwards again he looked into your eyes, still gently holding your hand. You swallowed thickly, nobody ever did that before. Never before had someone given you a perfect hand kiss.
"Lady y/n…I'm Loki Laufeyson. It's an honour to meet you!"
You couldn't help yourself but stare into his eyes with a slightly open mouth. You were utterly impressed by him and his manners.
"Nice to meet you, Mr. Laufeyson" you answered breathlessly.
After what felt like an eternity, he softly let go of your hand. You wished he would still hold it because it felt nice.
You weren't sure but you thought you had heard his name before. You had lived and worked in Oslo for some time so it might be just a coincidence.
"Are you from Norway? Because of your name…"
"No, not really" he chuckled.
"Oh, okay, I lived and worked there for a while and that might be the reason your name sounds familiar to me" you explained and you still had the feeling you had heard his name somewhere before.
"Maybe you ought to be afraid of me!" he stated. He knew that nearly everyone still feared him.
"No, Mr. Laufeyson, I'm not afraid of you. I just dared to speak to you" and you gave him your sweet smile again.
"Should I be afraid of you?" you asked him mischievously.
"I don't know…" he answered you playfully with his deep, dark voice and it made you shiver.
His voice was like sweet honey that slowly ran down your body. Probably you would do anything he asks you for and you would just obey. You should better get rid of this weakness.
Instead of widening your eyes in fear, he seemed to seduce you. Why didn't you fear him? And he could swear you had an idea who he was.
"So we conclude that I'm not afraid of you." You smiled at him brightly again.
"If you'd have wanted to harm me you could've done it yet, you had many opportunities in the last days, didn't you?" You asked him confirming.
"Right. But what if I'm planning to do it?" He leaned his head towards you.
"What if I lied?"
His voice went more silent and deeper but his gaze remained friendly. You shivered again but not because of fear.
"Possibly you did…but if you want to harm me, even if you want to abduct me, I wouldn't mind …there won't be anyone who would actually miss me." Your gaze became more serious and sad.
"What are you saying?" He furrowed his eyebrows and gazed concernedly at you.
"No one would miss me" you murmured sadly.
"And still I'm not afraid of you…just a gut feeling, it rarely deceives me" you said, more confident again.
"There must be someone?" and he furrowed his eyebrows again.
He felt bad for you. What happened to you that you were all alone nowadays and his concern about you grew…feelings he knew but barely showed others.
"No, there's no one. It's a long story, Mr. Laufeyson" you said quietly and turned your head away from his gaze towards the lake and you changed the subject.
"It's a nice place here, isn't it? One of the best people-watching spots in the city," you said.
"Yes, it is. Indeed" he answered and looked intensely at you.
"It's kind of peaceful and it offers an escape from the hustle and bustle of the city, doesn't it?" he asked you and couldn't take his eyes off you. Somehow he felt drawn to you.
"Yes, it does...and it also offers a distraction from life…" you said, sighing.
"It's beginning to dusk…I should go home now" you said and looked at him again.
"Will you be coming back tomorrow? And I can assure you, I definitely won't harm you, I didn't lie to you."
He would never do that to you and he just wanted to see you again. And the confirmation that you were alone fueled the desire to protect you.
You looked and smiled at him again before you answered.
"I knew I could trust you. Of course, Mr. Laufeyson, like every day I'll be here again tomorrow. Same time, same place!"
"Same time, same place, my Lady."
He almost looked lovingly into your eyes, took your hand carefully and gave you an implied kiss to the back of your hand again. When he released your hand, you both stood up from the bench.
"See you tomorrow, Mr. Laufeyson."
"See you tomorrow, Lady y/n."
On your way back home you couldn't stop thinking about him. Had you really had the courage to talk to a stranger? You laughed at yourself and your exuberance. You were about to make the same mistake as then…but Loki Laufeyson seemed to be different. Extremely handsome but different and with perfect manners. But no, you would never fall for someone again, it would just come to an unfortunate end again.
Loki couldn't believe what just had happened. You, one of the most beautiful women he had seen in a long time, so beautiful both externally and inwardly too so it seemed, dared to talk to him.
Did you actually say you trust him? Him? Without knowing him? You were adorable, indeed…and you were different. You were not like all the women who stood literally in a line in front of his bedroom door, you weren't nearly like them.
Of course, it confirmed his ego, that many women wanted him but it wasn't something that made him happy in life. If he was honest with himself he always searched for someone like you.
But he wasn't made for a serious relationship and to handle it this way, to only look for sexual affairs, was the best solution for him and it satisfied his carnal needs. And by the way, he knew there would never be a woman for him.
He knew there would never be someone who wanted to satisfy the undisclosed desires of his heart and his desire for genuine love. And so he went to the bar, like almost every day, where he would definitely find a willing companion for a lustful night of sex.
To be continued ...
❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️
@lokisprettygirl @wheredafandomat @fictive-sl0th
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imnotrevealingmyname · 3 years ago
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Whispered Dreams
Loki X Fem!Reader
Warnings: hurt/comfort
A/N: the pov in this fic is all over the place, sorry about that. It's supposed to be kinda off, that's how the vibes of this fic are.
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You awoke to something heavy wrapped around you. Something heavy and trembling.
Your eyelids remained heavy and shut with sleep as you raised your arm to touch whatever it was. Your fingers met soft tangles and the smooth curve of Loki's ear.
He was saying something, but your sleep-addled brain could barely make it out, so you said what you thought was,"What's wrong?"
In hindsight, it probably came out as,"Hofs gou?"
He moved closer, head pressing deeper into the crook of your neck, his entire body howling with grief and pain and need. "You're so painfully real, ljúfa mín. My frozen heart aches at your touch, gyðjan mín, and I crave to be yours entirely and it scares me in a way even he does not. I would let you rip me apart and piece me back together as you always have, because I know you would. And it horrifies me to say that I wish to do the same to you. I want everything, I want you like I have not wanted anything before in the centuries of my miserable life, I want to take and take and take from you and I want to give you me. I would tear us both apart like you have torn me apart with yearning and I would weave us back together so tightly neither of us would know where the other starts,"he finished. "You're so real,"he said again in an agonized whisper. You were still half asleep, but he couldn't find it in himself to let go, to let you curl up against him and fall back asleep.
Your neck was drenched, and your mind was barely just waking up, although your body was already working of its own accord, your hand carding through his unusually messy hair, damp with sweat and the remains of nightmares that haunt you when you wake and take the form of tears.
"In a good way, right?"you mumbled, blinking down at him, confused and tired. When he looked up, there was a pang in his heart that made him want to scream. You looked so concerned, so worried, like you wanted to do something to ease his pain but weren't awake enough to know how or what.
"In the most beautiful way I could ever ask for,"he pressed the words against your jaw, against your lips, willing you to understand the depth of how he felt. "I've lived a lie for so long, and I now crave how real you are. How real we are. I cannot- I will not- let you go."
"Good,"you hummed softly as he stroked your hair, now singing something under his breath. Rather reluctantly, you succumbed to it, hands still reaching for him to comfort him, finding his lips. He leaned into it eagerly, and the two of you fell asleep like that, with his fingers in your hair and his tear-streaked face cradled in your hands.
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an-angel-in-the-garden · 4 years ago
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Male monster x Male Reader Part 2
Okay took some time but here are the headcanons for the shadow wraith x reader I had been asked for here's part one in case you haven't read it
When I woke up my mind was still in a haze I couldn't remember when I fell asleep or anything but the warmth I felt wrapped around made it easy to want to fall back into blissful sleep. It was only a few moments after that I realized what was wrong, along with the warmth that seemed to cover me I felt cold breaths on my neck and bone-like hands gripping my waist that forced me to remember what happened. The night before came rushing back the monster that showed itself to me and the sight of something both scary yet beautiful kept me frozen in fear and now here I am wrapped tight in its arms and feeling almost safe. When my eyes finally adjust to the dim lighting I take a look around to my surprise what's around me isn't bad a large mostly clean cave were laying on animal skins and the fire near us has gone out already but what catches my eye is the pile of skulls near the entrance at first I wanted to think nothing of it I'm mean its clear this thing hunts animals but then I saw it a human skull. My heart was gripped tight in icy hands my body tensed and it was then I thought of just how bad this situation is before I could really think it through I tried to yank my body away from it scrambling to get away and run to the safety of the trail. I didn't even make a few feet before a loud mix between a growl and wail rang out through the cave and echoing in the forest, my knees buckle but before I drop a pair of shadowy tendrils pull me back into a skeletal body.
It held me as close as possible nuzzling into my neck teeth pressed to the skin with no lips to be found long claws pointed to press slightly in my waist. I tensed holding my breath in hopes it would let me be " you....are..safe" its voice seemed so loud I knew it was dangerous but I felt like I should trust it If it wanted me dead it would just kill me after all. We stayed like that for a while I saw the sun begin to rise to its high point and it was then the voices came, Steven and Marie calling out for me somewhere in the forest. The creature seemed to not like it growling and tightening its hold on me and moving further back into the cave "wait wait WAIT hold on you cant keep me here" The creature tilted it head more of the like ooze substance dipping down its body and onto me. " I wont stay here I have a life to live!" That seemed to get through to it a whine escaping its throat as it loosened its hold on me, nuzzling its face once more into my neck before letting me go its hulking body pressing to the other side of the cave simply watching as I left. When I met up with the others I told them I just went for a walk that morning they laughed it off and we headed back to the village. I edited the photos I got and sent them off it wasn't long before my client contacted me saying they looked great and with that my job was done I could leave but...I didn't want to. I still has a few days left before my flight back so I went with Steven once more to the base of the mountain bags heavy with the things I would need to stay out for the last few day and that was how I came to know a monster named Zishe.
Dating Zishe
It takes a months to learn to really understand each other and even long to date but once you reach that point its a pretty good relationship
He's not very good at talking but he is learning even still most of his feeling or thought can be guessed based on his actions
Though he try's to learn more about human ways now that he's living with you the fact is his mannerism will stay the same
As a wraith whos been alive for such a long time and being a creature that can take any form, gender has never matter and thus you being male will not change how he treats you
Keeps you covered in his sent humans might not be able to tell but it makes him feel at ease knowing other supernatural's will leave you alone
Marking you is also something he enjoys since he cant bond you to him yet this is a place holder
Though his body is cold the shadows that wrap around him are warm and he enjoys when you two cuddle
You named him Zishe when you asked him his name the only thing you could make out was that it started with a Z
When you called him that as nickname to make it easy on yourself he was so happy low throaty purr like sounds spilling from him
If he could Zishe would be on you 24/7 its in his instinct to want to be around you and make sure you're safe plus he thinks your just the best
Truly loves your scent its strong but not overbearing and the undertone of earthy and smokiness is blissful
If you have a gravely voice not matter if its just a morning voice or all day Zishe will be far more docile when he hears it
Will hunt for you if you want him to Zishe is very good at
Enjoys giving you the bones he gets form said hunting all clean and nice for you
Doesn't like other people much but will tolerate them for you
Tell him you love him often and kiss him even though he has no lips it sends him over the moon and he does his best to give back all the love
OMG IT'S DONE!!! I'm so so sorry this took so long I had no idea what to write till the headcanons so it feels rushed but I hope you still enjoyed and thank you for reading. I will now be working on part 4 of my Loki fic so yay!- Lilly
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ladyblogger-margie · 4 years ago
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Traitor
Pairing: Mobius M Mobius x Loki (MCU)
Summary: The Loki Variants are captured and Mobius battles his personal versus professional feelings. 
Warnings: Mentions of bondage kind of?? A little angsty
Word Count: 1788
a/n: thanks to this post by @pietro-maximoff I have been listening to Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo and thinking about Lokius non-stop. This fic is what came out of that obsessing. Also I wrote it before Episode 3 aired. 
MY MASTERLIST
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Mobius heard the alarms blaring and didn’t flinch. It had been set off so many times lately, it had lost all impact. This time though, Casey came flying through the halls of the TVA and skidded to an abrupt halt next to Mobius’ cubicle. 
“We found him,” Casey panted. 
“Who?” Mobius asked, fearful to get his hopes up. 
“The Loki variant,” Casey explained, his hands on his knees. 
“You may need to be more specific, there are several,” Mobius said, as he stood and led Casey back where he came from. 
“The variant, your variant,” Casey said, jogging to keep up. 
Casey’s words rang in Mobius’ brain. Apparently everyone could see how he felt about Loki, well except Loki. If Loki knew, he wouldn’t have ran off, or at least Mobius desperately hoped that was the case. The alternative was too gut wrenching to consider with everything else going to shit. 
Mobius had called out for Loki, begging him not to leave, but he went through the door anyway leaving Mobius behind. Loki had looked at him, but gave him nothing but an empty glance before he turned his back and ran to join the Loki Variant they were supposed to be chasing together. 
Now Casey was explaining how both Loki’s were now surrounded and Mobius needed to get there immediately. He was trying to keep his focus professional and stuff down the longing rising in his chest, a longing that would not do him a single lick of good. 
Suddenly Mobius turned a corner and saw the Hunters in position by the Time Door. He didn’t slow down as he gestured for them to breach the door and he was right in their midst as they arrived on the scene. 
Lady Loki sat with her eyes rolling tied up and contained, clearly annoyed, bored, as well as plotting. Mobius knew Loki well enough to know that she wasn’t truly as subdued as she appeared on the surface. The other Loki, the one in the TVA Variant jacket, was looking extremely put out with a collar back around his slender throat and his wrists in cuffs. 
Mobius banished his first thought in favor of the professional thoughts that followed. 
“We’ve apprehended the variants. Let’s reset this one here first,” he said, pointing to Lady Loki. 
The other Loki was desperately trying to make eye contact with Mobius, but Mobius turned his back to him. 
This was his first mistake. Loki slipped in behind him so close that Mobius felt that taller man’s breath against his neck and he suppressed a shiver. 
“I did it, I captured the Variant,” Loki bragged, his tone smug, “But these fools arrested me in the process of turning her into the proper authorities.”
Mobius caught the indignation in Loki’s voice at the second part and tried not to let it affect him. He was fooled before and he would not be fooled again. 
“Reset her, bring this one back to headquarters,” Mobius said, still ignoring Loki, “Someone’s going to have to question him to complete the paperwork.”
Then Mobius retreated with the team completing the Variant reset, leaving a stammering Loki behind him.
“Mobius, where are you going?” Loki asked, “Mobius?”
Mobius ignored him. 
After they successfully solved the Lady Loki Variant problem, Mobius returned to headquarters. He wasn’t told exactly where they had taken Loki, but he had a hunch, and until recently his hunches usually proved correct. 
He found Loki in the same room he had shown Loki his role on the timeline when they first met. There Loki was heavily guarded and they had added a gag to his collection of restraints since Mobius saw him last. 
“You can all go,” Mobius said, waving the hunters away, “I can handle him.”
Mobius shook the control to Loki’s collar in his hand and with minimal muttering, the Hunters filed out. 
Mobius sat in a chair across the table from Loki and just looked at him. He watched as Loki squirmed and tried to speak. He watched the frustrating boil over on Loki’s face and felt guilty for watching him suffer. He thought he’d enjoy catching Loki out, but he was wrong. The image in front of him made him sick. 
Mobius reached across the table and gently removed the gag from Loki’s mouth. He’d barely sprung the release when Loki began talking rapidly.
“Mobius, you have to understand,” Loki’s fast tongue clipped, “I had to go. I needed to catch the Variant. That was the plan, was it not? Use a Loki to catch a Loki.”
Mobius bit the inside of his lip, pouting them slightly as he did so, but he kept quiet. 
“I know what you must be thinking, but technically I didn’t stab you in the back,” Loki said, attempting a joke. 
Mobius remained silent and to his surprise he found it was making Loki look, well, nervous. 
“You don’t think I left you on purpose?” Loki asked, “Why would I do that?”
Loki’s face looked so open, so vulnerable in its proposed sincerity, Mobius was almost moved. He promised to himself he wasn’t buying the trickster’s words, but unconsciously he stood and removed the rest of Loki’s restraints except the collar around his neck. 
“Thank you,” Loki said, his voice soft with emotion and Mobius' heart clenched. Being in close proximity with him again had Mobius on edge, so aware of his own body and Loki’s as well. 
“What happened when you went through the door?” Mobius asked in a professional tone. 
“I heard you calling,” Loki said, standing to stroll the room. 
“I’m aware,” Mobius sighed, “You looked right at me.”
“Well I thought that meant you understood,” Loki said, his arms open wide, head cocked to the side. 
“Understood what? That you’re a traitor? You betrayed me,” Mobius said. He shook his head, this wasn’t the time to air his personal issues, he shouldn’t have fallen in love with a Variant, especially a Loki whose betrayal surely was inevitable. “I’m here to assess and record what happened after you walked out,” he said, pushing forward with his assignment. 
“I didn’t betray you, I swear. Besides, isn’t paperwork and cleanup a bit beneath your pay grade? There’s got to be more to you being here than just the job,” Loki suggested with a raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t trust you with anyone else,” Mobius admitted plainly. He didn’t trust himself with Loki either, but that wasn’t the point. 
“I didn’t leave you, Mobius,” Loki said, sitting back down. He reached his hands across the table to where Mobius’ were resting. 
Mobius ripped his hands out of the way and stood himself, taking up Loki’s pacing position. 
“I trusted you to see this through,” Mobius said, barely containing the tremble in his voice. 
“But that’s just it!” Loki said, following Mobius and completely disregarding his personal space, “I did! I caught the Variant.”
Mobius studied his face, “You were captured with the Variant.”
“No!” Loki was frustrated now, his hands in his hair, “Those imbeciles showed up after I had her in custody because I was trying to call you.”
Mobius was blinking very quickly now, “But you left me, I saw you look at me and deliberately choose to abandon the team and the mission. Loki, I am trying to get to the truth here and I know that’s a foreign concept-“
Mobius was cut off mid-sentence when Loki crashed his lips against his, kissing him and shutting him up in one fell swoop. The action short-circuited Mobius' brain and he stood frozen, his lips responding on instinct alone. 
Loki tasted like honey and peppermint, sweet and sharp and a little bitter, but absolutely perfect. Mobius raised a hand to Loki’s throat and in horror remembered he was still wearing his collar. 
Mobius shoved Loki away abruptly. It wasn’t easy to shove a god, but the advantage of surprise  granted him the space he needed. 
“You really think you can play me,” Mobius said with a sad chuckle. He had to drop this idiotic fantasy - Loki could never love him the way that Mobius loved him. 
“Play you? I’m trying to kiss you,” Loki said, his tone sharp. 
“You’re trying to get me to take off that collar,” Mobius said with a limp gesture of his hand. 
Loki’s fingers brushed across the collar almost like he forgot he was wearing it. 
“So take it off and see how I act then,” Loki suggested. 
Mobius actually laughed, “How thick do you think I am? I know you don’t respect me, but give me a little credit.”
“Of course I respect you, I care for you,” Loki sighed, “You’ve caught me many times before, I have no magic, and your team already confiscated my daggers, what have you got to lose?”
Loki watched Mobius with his head tilted, as Mobius squinted at him intently. 
Mobius released Loki’s collar with a press of the button on the controller. Loki tossed it aside casually and he made no effort to run. Instead he moved closer to Mobius, crowding his space. Mobius held his breath as Loki inspected him intently, his crystal blue eyes tracing across Mobius’ face. 
Mobius’ breath hitched as Loki kissed him again, slower this time, deeper. He felt his skin catch fire as Loki traced his thumb across his check as his tongue swept across his lower lip. Then Mobius’ resolve shattered. 
Mobius yanked on Loki’s tie, wrapping it around his fist as his other hand wrapped around Loki’s waist. Mobius could feel the smile on Loki’s lips through the kiss and he couldn’t help but smile back. Loki’s hands were soft and cool and Mobius relished in the feel of them, still not entirely sure if he believed his good fortune, but too overwhelmed to care. 
Suddenly the door to the room opened and Casey walked in, interrupting the kiss. Mobius flushed and jumped back in surprise, his hand still wrapped in Loki’s tie.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to - wait, what’s happening?” Casey said, obviously flustered. 
“What can I help you with?” Mobius asked. 
“There’s a new variant we need your help with,” Casey said, “After you reset this variant, there’s a file at your desk.”
Mobius turned to Loki and held his hand, “He’s not a variant, he’s a member of the TVA.”
Loki’s face lit up as Casey left with a shrug. 
Mobius turned to Loki, and fixed his tie and collar as Loki smiled at him. 
“I swear I wasn’t leaving you, I’d never do that to someone I love,” Loki said sincerely, and Mobius believed him so he kissed him, not for the first time, and certainly not for the last. 
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plainlo-inthemorning · 4 years ago
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Shine a Light, part 6
A Loki series/Lokane fic. Rating T.
Previously: Part 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5
He is already spinning around and bracing himself as his boots touch the concrete, half expecting to see the beast come tumbling towards him.
But the air is mercifully still where the door has snapped shut.
The evening sky above him is heavy with clouds, and a light mist of cool rain touches his face.
Cool.
He looks down at his hands. They are still shaking from the adrenaline, but no longer blue. Nor do his clothes feel rough against his skin.
Did he consciously change back to his Asgardian form as he went through the door? He is not sure. Whatever the shape or shade, his body feels oddly disconnected from his brain and Loki idly wonders if using the tempad so much within a short time span might be affecting him on a cellular level.
Then again, if that was the case would the Minute Men and analysts at the TVA not have been suffering from chronic time travel fatigue?
Who knows, perhaps they did. A number of them certainly looked worn out.
Tempad “jetlag” (an apt mortal word) or not, unwillingly running into variants upon variants of old enemies on this treacherous timeline coupled with the incessant longing for her has caused Loki’s grip on reality to slip ever more from one destination to the next.
What reality? a mocking voice in his head whispers, sounding maddingly similar to the little devil clock.
You have no idea where you are, who you are or where you’re going. You’re a man out of time, for all time, always.
He straightens and draws in a few deep breaths, surveying his new surroundings: A narrow brick terrasse. At the back wall, a glass sliding door reveals a room covered in darkness, but as nothing moves inside (his night vision remains far superior to that of mortals), Loki turns instead to take in the view of … London.
There is a taste of early spring in the air, and before him as far as the eye can see, the rooftops and spires of the city stretch out into the distance.
Millions of little lights flicker in the dark and the fumes of traffic and city grime mix with whiffs of different cuisines drifting out of air vents.
He has been here once or twice before, though not in decades, and there are whole clusters of towering structures of glass and steel that he does not recall from on his previous visit.
The house by the ocean in 2016, Budapest in 2015, New York in 2014 and now London in what he assumes must be 2013. As methodical as the backwards count has proven to be, as confusing are the destinations and varying seasons.
Only they cannot possibly be random.
Free will is an illusion.
The eerie feeling that even this, his ill-thought-out ‘quest’, is being guided by an invisible hand in charge of his destiny is so dispiriting it’s comical. He can’t quite decide whether to feel perversely honored that some higher being – a version of He Who Remains? – would take interest in toying with him, or furious that he has been singled out for this preposterous punishment of drifting through another Loki variant’s timeline.
It is no use dwelling on either emotion. He has no one to measure his pride against, no one’s expectations to live up to expect for his own, and, frankly, by now that bar is scraping the floor. There is no telling where the female variant of him went and Loki has no means of contacting the TVA or the analyst-interrogator even if he wanted to (he really does not anymore).
Loki unclenches his fists.
Seeing as each destination may have been an intentional set-up for whatever bizarre reason, the question is which character from his past he will encounter in this place. He vows to himself that no matter who he bumps into, he will attempt to reactivate that silver tongue of his and gather actual, useful information.
No more chaotic exits.
Provided no one tries to kill him on sight or squash him through a wall.
The terrace is furnished only with an old sun chair and a few plants, but the room beyond the glass door appears very lived in, with books stacked on the floor and several shelves, a large couch, a couple of armchairs, and what looks to be an adjacent kitchen area with a dining table.
Amazing how most mortals spend their years in such small, crowded dwellings.
Using only his magic, he slides open the door. It makes a low swooshing sound. Quiet as a cat, he steps over the threshold.
//
It hits him immediately, like walking into a wall: The scent of lavender.
And Thor.
The apartment is quiet, but they were here and recently.
He has been delivered right to them.
Loki is once again frozen in place.
His initial plan when knocking out that man in the canteen at the TVA and stealing his tempad was to find Thor and Jane at the scene of his own moral redemption (well…) on Svartalfheim. Where he supposedly saves their lives. Find them and use the momentum of their unfiltered gratitude to deliver the news that, most regrettably, the universe is likely coming to an end if they do not devise a plan together to prevent a multiversal war – preferably enlisting the help of Thor’s colleagues, too, and in the best of scenarios, Asgard.
Seek out Thor before saving Jane’s life, and Loki would have to first win his brother’s trust in the aftermath of the attack on New York. Find Thor after Svartalfheim, and there would be the small matter of explaining how the variant faked his own death and, after having thus broken Thor’s heart again, took the throne of the Realm Eternal.
Not an ideal conversation starter, even for them.
From the reel, he knows that there were other moments, much later, when he and Thor would become friendly again. After Ragnarok, before his end.
But Loki also knows that this need to get to Svartalfheim has as much to do with her as it has with Thor. Perhaps even more so.
Something important transpires between himself and the brown-eyed scientist on that brutal, barren planet and if it is the last thing he does, Loki will find out what it means.
It does not make any more sense now than it did when he sat in the kill me kind of room, transfixed by her face, but if he had had any initial doubts as to whether he was simply imagining the magnetic pull of her, those had been effectively shattered to atoms when she threw her arms around his neck outside the white house.
“Where did you go, handsome?”
Nothing on this timeline seems to be playing out as it should. Which of course also means that the events on Svartalfheim may never have occurred at all.
On this timeline, a variant has more or less befriended the Avengers in the years after New York when, according to the proper Loki fate, he should have been on Asgard. And, in a few years from now, the variant will somehow be with Jane.
Jane, who has stayed in this very apartment. With Thor.
Briefly, Loki is back to wondering if Thor dies and how, but then he remembers what Bruce said about their “family soap opera” and Loki’s “victory”.
Could it be that he and Thor actually fought over Jane?
As much as he wishes it otherwise, even Loki finds it hard to believe that his variant would have beat the God of Thunder in a fight. The might of Mjølner is formidable. And though his brother has not quite discovered it himself yet, Loki has always suspected that Thor has his own kind of magic.
Then there is Jane: Without having ever conversed with her, Loki would be surprised if Jane would appreciate being treated as a prize to be won.
He is getting a headache. A rare thing for a god, but there is no putting the puzzle together with so many pieces missing from the board. Since he has no hope of using the tempad to transport him off Midgard, maybe the best thing to do would be to just wait here and see if Jane and Thor come back. He has been specifically sent here, has he not?
Without really noticing, Loki has moved to the blue, puffy couch. He sits himself down and leans back into the soft cushions, letting out a sigh. When was the last time he slept or ate anything? There is a sense of fresh paranoia as he realizes that he cannot remember doing either at the TVA, expect for when he fell asleep during research.
“Time works differently at the TVA. You’ll see”.
He stretches his legs out in front of him and yawns. On the wall opposite from the couch is a paper calendar: 2013.
He takes in the rest of the apartment but does not magic any of the lights on. There is the open kitchen, a tiny hallway with a coat rack and a few pairs of shoes, and two more doors to the left of where he is sitting.
Getting up suddenly feels immensely tasking, but Loki nevertheless hauls himself to his feet and goes to inspect the other rooms. First, there is the washroom. The scent of lavender is stronger in there, even more inviting, and spotting a stack of fresh towels on a shelf, he considers taking a shower. It is not as if he cannot easily use magic to uphold appearances (wait, were there showers at the TVA?), but that is no substitute for the soothing feel of warm water running down his body, relaxing his tired muscles.
Yes, he will shower. And cast a spell on the apartment, so he will be alerted if anybody attempts to enter.
He takes a small comfort in his powers being restored.
Loki reckons the other door leads to the sleeping chambers but just to be sure, he magics it open with a flick of his wrist.
A window with closed blinds. A wooden bookcase to one side, volumes and magazines piled high. An old, white wardrobe with brass grips. A pile of clothes strewn haphazardly on the thick yellow rug on the floor near a large, unmade bed.
Unmade – and not empty.
//
Loki stands perfectly still, one hand still raised.
Why did he not sense that someone was here?!
Seeing as Clint (Bird-Eye?) managed to surprise him in Budapest, perhaps Loki’s “wolf’s ears” really are failing him.
Even so, his nose is working just fine. Unless …
Then he knows. Of course.
His tongue tastes bile.
Inching closer, he sees the black hair spilling over the madras. His own lean, sculpted body whose long limbs and handsome Asgardian features Loki has never felt less appreciation for than right this very moment.
The variant is deep asleep. And half-naked under the sheets.
Something twists in his stomach at the scene. Something small and pathetic and evil that wants out. A foul, winged creature batting against his ribcage with sharp claws.
He takes another step forward.
How has the variant not been alerted to his presence yet? He seemed strong – very strong – in 2016.
Loki studies his twin’s face. His own exact face. Same high cheek bones, same long, dark lashes against a pale complexion. Only this close, the man’s skin has a faint ashen sheen to it. A few tiny beads of sweat glisten on his temples and, yes, Loki hears it now, his breathing is slightly labored.
He is injured. Enough to dull his senses.
It is not the madman from the Void, as Loki had feared after their first encounter. His energy is quite different from any of the other variants, and Loki suspects he may be the closest to a perfect double that he’s encountered yet (and please, let this one be the last. No more variants or Loki will forget which life was his own).
Stepping so close he can lean over the bed, the reason for the variant’s sedated state becomes evident:
Tied around the man’s mid-section, just about visible over the sheets, is the upper edge of a large bandage. Loki sniffs. Yes, he can sense the wound and the ugly tinge of dark magic still surrounding it, like a poisonous signature: This was inflicted by a blade of the dark elves. The variant has come from Svartalfheim after all.
The cut must have been near fatal, but from the smell of it, it is healing well, aided by the variant’s own powers and what can only be human medicine, judging by the clinical odor.
Even so, why was he not taken to the healers on Asgard?
Because he is evading his punishment for the attack on New York, Loki guesses.
Thor and Jane must have brought him to London instead of delivering him back to Odin. Although thanks to Heimdall’s watchful gaze, the All-Father will be aware of what has transpired. In his condition, the chances of the variant being able to use his magic to shield himself from Heimdall are next to none.
Still, he is here. No one has come for him yet.
Loki does not know which is stranger: That the variant is legitimately, badly injured and not currently in the process of dispatching Odin off to some home for the elderly in New York, or that Odin has allowed the variant to be taken to Midgard instead of the dungeons.
Presumably neither the All-Father nor Thor are aware of the variant’s role in Frigga’s death.
Though he tries to shake them off, the images remain crystal clear: The queen mother, killed by one of Malekeith’s monster.
A shiver suddenly runs through the variant’s body on the bed and Loki holds his breath. The man shifts under the sheets but does not wake.
So, dear ‘brother’, your Nexus event was that you nearly died for the people who care for you instead of following up your heroism with deceit, as I would have done.
What sentiment.
The winged creature growls.
Loki could kill him right now.
Kill him and take his place.
It would be easy, so easy to slit his throat. It is not as if he has not committed murder before.
“I don’t enjoy hurting people. I don’t enjoy it …” But this is not ‘people’.
This man is a murderer as well.
The variant has already veered spectacularly off course from his fate, and yet there are no Minute Men next to his bed, holding him accountable for his “crimes against the sacred timeline”, nor will he be apprehended in the following years.
This man got “the Time Keepers’ stamp of approval”, just like the Avengers.
It is so monumentally unfair it is enough to make Loki’s fingers grasp for an invisible dagger. The variant’s existence makes a mockery of the life that was cruelly stolen from Loki by the TVA and for that he loathes him with every fiber of his identical body.
Why should the variant have any more right to live?
Because he will make her happy.
Loki forces himself to rein in the rage. The man will play a part in Jane’s life.
He stares at his sleeping double.
The variant is worthy.
Or just simply unbearably, ridiculously lucky.
No matter what, he must live, but if Loki stays here much longer, he fears the variant’s chances of making it past 2013 will rapidly decrease by the minute.
Loki cannot stand to look at him, nor will he contemplate the fact that the variant is comfortable enough in the apartment to discard his clothes.
If he does, he will stab him to death. And relish in it.
Loki is about to magic himself away to find somewhere nearby to wait for Thor and Jane’s return, when a noise reaches him from the hall outside the apartment.
Someone is coming towards the front door, keys in hand.
Jane.
//
He should leave immediately. Disappear before she can turn the key in the door.
But he does not.
Still looking at the sleeping, half-covered form in front of him, something finally snaps instead. The winged creature shrieks in delight.
A quick spell ensures that no sounds from outside the sleeping chamber can reach the variant, no matter how light his sleep becomes.
Another one renders all the light switches in the apartment useless.
Then Loki swiftly picks up the clothes from the floor, looks it over, and changes his own black outfit into what he is holding: A dark green, long-sleeved shirt and a pair of soft, well-known black leather pants that makes him feel both a bit homesick and a lot stronger.
Don’t do this, don’t do this.
A voice, not the clock this time but his own. He ignores it.
He does not know what Jane’s relationship with the variant is of this time or what state of mind she expects to find him in, but she has let him stay here – and right now, she is alone.
Her fingers weaving through his hair while the sun beat down on his back.
His conscience will not allow him to kill the variant, yet Loki cannot resist the temptation to be him.
Again.
But just for a heartbeat or two.
This last part he promises to himself and to her, though it does nothing to bury the shame.
Perhaps he did not change at all during his time at the TVA. Perhaps his true, villainous self just lay dormant, biding his time, while various oppressors walked all over him.
Is a stolen moment with her worth more than his honor? Is it worth jeopardizing his one chance of enlisting Thor’s help?
Yes.
Yes, it is.
This is lowest you have ever sunk.
Shut up.
He steps out of the bedroom and closes the door behind him, but not before catching a glimpse of himself in a mirror on the wall. His hair. The variant’s hair is noticeably longer. He cocks his head to the side once and the difference is levelled out.
In the hall, Jane is fiddling with the keys. When the lock clicks, Loki is sitting on the blue couch again, trying to appear casual while his pulse is racing as fast as when Bruce turned green before him.
And there she is.
Hair windswept, cheeks flushed from the cool evening air, wearing a dark green parka, jeans and boots.
Her eyes find his in the low light and a warm smile spreads on her face. His heart leaps into his throat.
“You’re back”. She does not stop to take off her jacket or attempt to turn on the lights before coming towards him and, unsure of what to say, he stands up. She stops in front of him, apparently a little unsure of the situation herself. She bites her lip.
“So how did it go?”
Her voice sounds at once both concerned and hopeful and her eyes are wide with expectation.
She is searching for some sort of positive affirmation and so Loki smiles down at her and says the only thing that seems fitting:
“It went well”.
Jane exhales loudly and her smile returns. “It did?!”
“Yes”, Loki replies, grinning at her (her smile is too infectious) and hoping she will not ask him to elaborate on whatever the subject is.
“Of course it did! I mean, you’re still here, aren’t you? Oh Loki, I’m so insanely relieved!” Jane laughs and looks like she is about to throw herself into his arms (automatically he reaches for her) when she stops herself mid-motion. “Sorry! I nearly forgot. Again!”
She takes one of his hands in both of hers, and Loki swallows hard as her fingers softly caress his with unmistakable intimacy.
“But seriously, you two didn’t fight, like fight-fight, did you …? I hope Thor didn’t …”. She trails off and looks at him questioningly.
“No. No, we didn’t fight. Don’t worry. We both … behaved”. Loki tries to catch up while keeping his replies as vague as he hopes he can afford.
The variant and Thor have had words, and Jane has worried about the outcome. Could it have been a discussion of whether to return Loki to Asgard? But then why has Thor not come back to the apartment?
In fact, why go anywhere else to talk at all, with the variant being as beat up as he is?
Because he and Thor both expected a row not suited for the indoors.
“Okay, you sit, you’ve moved around enough for one day. I’ll fix us something to eat and you’re going to tell me everything”. Jane gently lets go of his hand, then shoots him a teasing smile. “Unless you’ve emptied the fridge. Again”.
“Um”, is Loki’s inspired contribution to the conversation.
“Uh oh, pasta it is then”, Jane laughs, and goes to shrug off her jacket and boots in the hallway, revealing an open flannel shirt with a white T-shirt underneath.
Was she wearing the same thing that day in the desert town? It looks familiar.
Jane flips a light switch next to the coat rack and makes a “huh”-sound as nothing happens. She tries a lamp next to the dining table with the same result.
“Has the electricity gone again? Was it out when you got back?”
“Ah, yes. It was”.
“The landlord seriously needs to fix this, that’s the third time this week…good old London”. Jane scoffs but does not sound all that bothered.
“Can you work a little magic for us?”
When Loki does not move, Jane walks up to him (now even shorter without her footwear) and lightly places a hand on his arm, nudging him back on the couch. “Sit. And shine a light, please”.
He lets her push him down, and her hand moves up to rest on his shoulder. Now he is the one looking up at her. She is standing between his legs and there it is, the affection in her eyes that almost makes him forget that he is not the man it is meant for.
He wonders for how long he can get away with not saying anything remotely coherent before she suspects something’s amiss.
Obeying her wish, he holds out his palm and a small, orange flame appears, casting a warm glow on both their faces. Motioning with his fingers, he makes the flame float elegantly over the low coffee table in front of the couch where it stills in the air.
“I was thinking more along the lines of just making the electricity come back on, like last time, but okay, that is very pretty too”. Jane looks at the little light with wonder and Loki thinks he sees the stars in her eyes again.
Then her attention is back on him. Her fingers brush against his hair. They linger by the curls at the nape of his neck.
“I don’t know if it’s relief, but it’s almost like you look a bit … different”. Jane’s eyes roam his face, his hair. “Do you even still have a fever?”
Before Loki can answer her hand is touching his forehead.
Jane shakes her head in surprise. “It’s much better than this morning. Maybe it was good for you to get some real air after all. It has been almost three weeks …”
How easily she touches him. How sad that he's not used to being touched anymore.
He has only to lay his hand on her forehead in return and he could use his powers to reveal glimpses of her past (yes, he kept many of his gifts from the female on Lamentis).
More specifically, what has happened between her and the variant.
But not without revealing himself in the process.
Her left hand is still on his shoulder while the other now travels down the side of his cheek. He leans into her touch and closes his eyes, just breathing in the scent of her skin when he feels her bending down and locks of her auburn hair tickle his face.
He opens his eyes and looks right into hers, inches from his.
You have not earned this.
You are deliberately, selfishly, monstrously taking advantage of her.
I am a monster.
And then her mouth is on his and he does not say no.
To hell with his soul.
--------------------------------------------
For a second, she thinks she feels him tense up.
But as soon as her lips melt onto his and he immediately, hungrily reciprocates the kiss, everything is right again.
Crazy, sure, but also oh so right.
Jane literally never wants to stop kissing him.
She actually told him exactly that the other night. Or, accidentally blurted it out as they were coming up for air, since she is falling for him so fast her brain apparently cannot keep up with her mouth.
Immediately she had felt embarrassed, but it did not last longer than it took for him to raise a teasing eyebrow at her and pull her close again. “Why, Doctor Foster”, he had purred in that low voice that he absolutely knows makes her go weak, “by all means, please…(and he’d kissed her) don’t…(another kiss) stop … (kiss) Ever”.
Then he had leaned back a little, still gently cupping her face between his large hands, and flashed her the most gorgeous, happy, wickedly lascivious smile she had seen on him so far.
Not many people radiate smoldering sex appeal while simultaneously suffering from the agonizing pain of a wound inflicted by an alien sword, but of course Loki pulls it off with flying colors.
From there on, there had been no returning to ‘movie night’.
Now, trying not to break the kiss, Jane carefully moves to sit herself down on the couch as well, making sure not to press against him. For two weeks, they have been making out like teenagers whenever they are alone. Somewhat hindered by his injuries, obviously, which prohibits him from moving much – it is both very, very hot and insanely frustrating.
The first time she had kissed him, he had been too stunned to move a muscle anyway.
The second time, he had nearly ripped the wound open again.
Since then, they have tried to take it slow, although on more than one occasion, Loki has been all but begging to throw caution to the wind – “I’ll heal!", “It doesn't hurt!” (said as he looked like he was going to pass out), and, Jane’s favorite, “It might make me heal faster”.
His impatience would be quite funny if it was not because Jane was feeling just as dizzy with want.
She has been going for a lot of runs in Hyde Park lately.
“Do you have a death wish?!”, she had asked him teasingly at one point when he had spontaneously grabbed her hand as she passed him the kitchen and pulled her tight against him, only to groan loudly in pain when her body collided with his bandage.
Then he had looked suddenly very serious and let her go, and she had instantly regretted the comment.
She knows enough about his past not to joke about things like that.
“Oh. Oh, no”.
That was all her mind had been capable of thinking when she and Loki had locked eyes in the palace on Asgard, right after she had slapped him (surprising both herself and everyone around her).
He had looked down at her with his trademark arrogant smirk, except as soon as Thor and Sif had turned away, his gaze had turned infinitely softer, and Jane had felt something monumental start to shift inside of her.
Something that had nothing to do with the Aether coursing through her veins.
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Not long after that, on that awful, doomsday-looking planet, he had saved her life. Twice in quick succession. And for a horrifying second, it had looked like he would die right in front of her.
The memory makes her involuntarily shudder a bit and, drawing her legs up on the couch so she can twist to face him more directly, she runs her fingers through his long, silken hair, and nips at his lower lip… and is startled when his head jerks. For real this time.
Jane draws back.
“Are you okay?”. Perhaps things did not go as smoothly with Thor as she had hoped.
It was a big ask after all.
Once more she feels a sharp pang of guilt. It is not just her and Loki’s worlds that have been turned resoundingly upside down in a matter of one turbulent month.
Loki seems lost for words, and the sadness flooding his face shocks her.
He is far from okay.
In fact, he looks close to tears. Were it not because she had just felt his cool forehead, she would have assumed it was the fever flaring up.
Jane feels her stomach tie itself into a knot. They are taking him away from her before they have even had a chance be together.
Or, even worse still, he has regretted everything about their unlikely union.
“Jane, I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry…”
Here it comes, Jane thinks as nausea builds. Erik is about to be proved right about him.
She lets go of him. He is clearly wrestling with himself.
And he does look different. Is this what him dropping the mask looks like?
It is more than just his facial expression, it is his entire posture. Even wounded and half delirious with fever, Loki usually carries himself with no small amount of pride.
His eyes are so lost.
What the hell is going on?
“Just tell me, Loki”. Jane tries to disguise how alarmed she suddenly feels. His touch is the same, and yet it is like a stranger is taking over the man in front of her.
He inhales deeply and runs both his hands through his hair. Entirely without wincing as he lifts his elbows above his chest, she notices.
“Okay”, he begins. “Jane…” (the way he says her name, like he is tasting the word) “…you have every right to hate me for what I’m about to tell you. I truly deserve nothing less.”
She feels the tears welling up.
“I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe you’re doing this.” Her voice breaks and Loki has the audacity to look taken aback.
“Are you being dragged back to Asgard, or are you dumping me? After trying so hard to get into my pants?!”
It comes out way too harshly, and Loki appears genuinely flummoxed.
Also, his face has gone red.
“Oh, Jane, no, he’s not going to… He won’t leave. I mean- ”
“What?” A chill runs down her spine.
“’He’? ‘He’ who? Thor?”
Before he can answer, they both jump a little as her phone suddenly goes off in her bag by the door.
That inane ringtone.
She still has not changed it.
Erik. She promised she’d let him know as soon as …
Jane wants to ignore it, but then her mentor will most likely keep calling and she cannot put it on silent from the couch. Loki probably could though, but she is not about to ask.
“Wait”. She holds up a hand and gets up.
While rummaging in the bag, a single tear runs down her cheek. No. She will keep her composure and listen to what he has to say like the commonsensical grown-up woman that she is.
Was.
She’s only just begun to get to know him properly, so why does it feel like she won’t be able to live without him?
She pulls out the damn phone and presses the button on the side.
The she straightens up again and turns. “Okay, Loki …”
Jane gasps.
The room is dark. And empty.
No, he didn’t!
“Loki!”
No answer.
She stalks over to the couch and frantically looks around. Nothing.
“Loki, don’t you dare!”
The phone vibrates in her hand. Shaking all over, Jane answers the call. “Erik?”. Her voice is very small. “Yes, hi, Jane, it’s me. Listen, has Loki gotten back yet?”
She starts crying. “Erik, he left. He was here when I came home and just now, he disappeared! He didn’t even say goodbye.”
She can hear how desperate she sounds.
“What do you mean ‘disappeared’?” Erik sounds confused.
“He is gone! I turned my back on him for one second and he vanished!” Jane’s voice breaks.
“Look, Jane, I really can’t believe I’m saying this, but maybe you misunderstood him? He came to see me not two hours ago after that thing with Thor and, well, let’s just say he went out of his way to make a case for himself. And you…”
“What? What did he- ”
“Jane?” Darcy’s voice cuts through. She must have taken the phone from Erik. “The lunatic is absolutely batshit crazy about you, okay? Stop blubbering. He’s probably just bored and fucking with you since you’re not actually f- ”
“Okay, that’s enough!” Muffled sounds, as Erik wrestles the phone back.
“Come on over, Jane, okay? We’re all still at the lab. Ian’s made tortillas if you can believe it”.
“But…” Jane wavers. Is Loki really playing a joke on her?
Erik is not taking no for answer: “Jane, don’t indulge these little games of his, okay? Come have dinner with us, and I’ll tell you what he told me before. And if he isn’t back later tonight, it’ll be my pleasure to enlist Thor to beat the crap out of him. It’s long overdue”.
Despite herself, Jane cannot help but smile.
“Okay. I’m coming over”. She exhales. The feeling of unease is subsiding a bit.
“Good girl”, Erik says. “Tell her to bring beer!” Darcy shouts from somewhere in background.
Jane hangs up and puts on her boots again. Loki and Erik had an actual conversation with no casualties?
She grabs her jacket and slams the front door behind her.
He really is infuriating, that prince of hers.
If he turns up later, she will make him pay dearly for scaring her.
No making out for a week.
(Yeah, right.)
To be continued in part 7 ....
This was supposed to have been the final chapter. Only 'someone' needed extra time star gazing. Please forgive me him!
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nessamaurice · 4 years ago
Text
Simple, Chapter 13 (Loki x F!Reader)
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Summary: Tony and the Avengers are in desperate need of something like a “babysitter” to have an eye on Loki and teach him “how to human”. He decided to stay on Midgard over the dungeons of Asgard as punishment for his deeds in New York. That’s where you swoop in. A simple receptionist at the Avengers compound. You have to share an apartment in the compound with Loki and damn, he’s a really tough nut. With your open and kind character it seems that you are slowly cracking his shell. But suddenly things are getting twists that will change your life and your relationships there irreversibly.
Story Rating: M
Chapter trigger warnings: Panic attack, mentioning of harming and death
Words: 2952
13
Your body went stiff while your mind rushed through a million thoughts.
„No, no… that can‘t…. No…“, you stuttered out loud.
„Come on, dear. Let‘s get you out of here.“ Loki stood up and offered you his hand to follow him. You didn‘t react.
„How could…. No… but it was so long ago… how could that even be?…“ You simply could not process until Loki said your name.
„Y/N, please, come on.“
You looked at him. You didn‘t need to touch him to see how he felt. He tried to make a calm face but there was terror in his eyes. It made you just more uneasy. You weren‘t able to move one muscle, you just stared into Loki‘s face, frozen. As he realized that you went into shock, he picked you up.
„There you go, dear. I got you.“
Automatically you held onto his neck and let him carry you into your rooms. He placed you on one of your winged chairs and crouched down before you, his hands on your knees, trying to get in touch with you again.
„Y/N, do you hear me? You‘re safe here. Nothing can happen to you. Please, look at me.“
The urgency in his voice made you look at him.
„I am so scared, Loki.“ Your voice was breaking. „I don‘t know what to do, I--“ He placed his hand on your cheek while you started crying softly.
„Let me help you.“, he said as he took your hand into his. You didn‘t realize what he was doing. At first you only felt the warmth of his touch, but soon you had the urge to close your eyes and breathe deeper. Your heart found its normal pace, your tears ebbed away.
„What are you doing to me…“, you whispered. You felt the calmness, it eased you up, but you also felt that it didn‘t come from you. You opened your eyes and looked at Loki. His breath was shallow, his eyelids fluttered under concentration.
„Stop it.“ You tried to send this calmness back to him, but it didn‘t work. You disconnected from him, and losing your touch made him stumble back and land harshly on the ground. He was tense and anxious. You kneeled down to him on the floor, holding his face.
„What did you just do? What happened?“ You couldn‘t really grab the situation. Under your touch Loki seemed to relax a bit, although you felt that no emotional energy flowed between you two, though you tried. After a few deep breaths, Loki explained.
„I exchanged our feelings. I took yours, and therefore could give you mine.“, he said slightly breathless.
„What?… But I thought…“
„Through my Seidr, I have control over the emotional exchange. I can choose to accept your feelings, deny them, and what energy I want to send to you.“ Loki couldn‘t look you in the eye and as you became aware of your feelings, you knew why.
„…and you didn‘t tell me? All this time when I was so anxious to touch anybody you never thought it might be nice to know that you have the power to control that?“
„Listen, Y/N, I wanted to tell you so badly. But I wanted to wait until you were a bit more stable. You needed time to focus on yourself and deal with this new situation.“, he pleaded.
„I… I don‘t know how I feel about this. I can‘t believe you lied to me, all this time. And, even if I could understand why you did that in the first place, did you really have to reveal it to me now, as the murderer of my parents and grandparents is here?“ It was like you had forgotten this delicate detail until now and it hit you hard. „I… damn it Loki, I fucking need you right now! And at the same time I want to slap you and push you away! What are you doing to me!“, you shouted in his face.
You stood up and wanted to turn away, but he grabbed your hand and pulled you closer. You looked down on him. He was on his knees, begging you with his eyes as he thought of the right words to say. Tears filled your eyes as you saw him in this vulnerable state, and you slowly turned your hand around to touch his. You crossed your fingers with his, gently sobbing as his feelings rushed through you and knelt down directly in front of him. You touched his forehead with yours.
„What are you doing to me, Loki…“, you breathed. He shuffled closer to you on his knees and pulled your body really close to his. With him being directly in front of you, you had to tilt your head back to keep your foreheads touching. That brought your faces dangerously close to each other and again you tasted his breath on your lips, and you wanted to lean in so badly, but something held you back. Not like this, you thought, and you knew he thought the same. So he let his fingers slide into your hair and placed your head softly on his shoulder. You looped your arms around his body and eagerly sucked in the intense body contact.
After a few moments you leant back, facing to the side.
„What do you want to do?“, Loki asked.
„I don‘t know.“ You sighed. „It kinda is too much for me. The Soldier being here. But then again…“ You noticed Loki tensing up. „Maybe I can find some kind of… conclusion.“
„…what are you saying? He is still dangerous, Y/N.“
„I know that. But this is the only chance I have to close this and maybe find peace.“
„You can‘t be serious. You‘re saying you want to talk to him?“
„I have to, Loki. Can‘t you understand? That shit is so twisted up, there is no other way! Yes, he killed almost my whole family and myself, but he also is the reason I am still alive!“
"Are you even listening to what you're saying?", Loki exclaimed, standing up. "You want to make peace with your fucking abuser!" He was aghast by your words.
"I want to make peace because I deserve it!", you shouted back, getting on your feet as well. After a pause you calmly added "I need some space now."
You had no time to turn around and Loki was already by your side, grabbing your arm lightly.
"Please, don't go away now."
"I have to sort out my thoughts, alone.", You said firmly, looking at the ground.
Reluctantly he let go of you. Somehow it felt wrong, losing his touch. You turned to face him and it just made it worse. His look was devastated. You wanted to hug him, to kiss him so badly to ease the pain he was feeling right now. But you left the room. As you closed the door behind you it felt like your heart stopped beating. You made it to the common living room before you started to sob uncontrollably. You tried to sort out what was happening today. First, you were chilling with Loki, then almost kissed him, then got a panic attack because they captured the man who killed not only your grandparents, but also your parents right before your eyes. Heavy enough, but he was also the man who harmed you, wanted to kill you but in the end did not kill you, instead brought you the Doc and thus gave you the chance of a quiet life. Oh, yes, then you almost kissed Loki again. Thinking of being so close to him made your stomach ache in longing. You felt complete when he was near you. Safe. But you realized you had to learn to be complete on your own to eventually heal. Being with him meant being safe from yourself, your thoughts and feelings. But your happiness and health must come from within you, not from somebody else. That was a lesson you actually learned long ago, but it kinda got lost in that intense shitload of trauma you had to face the past few weeks.
Will I ever be able to be myself again? I don‘t think so… I‘m not the same person I was before. This shaped me so much… I don‘t know who I am anymore…
You laid there on the couch, curled up into a tiny human ball, staring outside into the night. The popcorn bowl stood there on the coffee table. Loki‘s scent was still around and you sucked it in. It has become like a drug to you. An easy way to feel better without actually doing something to heal the wounds. Your body may not be bleeding anymore, but your soul was in the same pain all the time. You just had numbed it out with an overdose of Loki. He was not to blame, though. Maybe you really needed that time to at least physically feel like a human again. But now was the time to do some real work. The body may heal itself, but the mind needs you to work together. You had to do this on your own. You could not get distracted any longer. Determined you pushed yourself up, wiped your face and made your way to the lift. As you wanted to push the button, you froze. Memories from when you lastly did this alone appeared and your breath went shallow. You felt energy crippling and looked down at your hand. In some green shimmer another hand was revealed, hovering over yours. You followed the Seidr, showing Loki.
„Please, don‘t do it.“, he said softly.
The urge to touch him was incredible. You couldn‘t move. You knew, every muscle would be drawing you closer to him.
„I just want to keep you safe. That is my only purpose.“, he said in his husky voice.
These words hit you hard. You realized you were a drug for him just as he was one for you.
„Loki, it can‘t go on like that. We cannot build our existence only around another person.“ You placed one hand on his chest, feeling his heart beating heavily. You held back from inhaling deeply. „You have to find your purpose within yourself. Just as I have to heal my soul by myself.“ You looked up into his face. Big mistake. His oceandeep eyes filled up with tears. Just the second you began moving closer the elevator startled both of you with a modest „bing“. You looked at the lift doors slowly opening, while Loki next to you disappeared in his green shimmer. You watched the last glowing green in the air dissolve and it was like your heart turned into stone, fell out of your chest and shattered into a million pieces right at your feet.
„Y/N, what are you doing here?“ Tony crossed the space in the lift quickly and softly grabbed your shoulders. „Come on, let‘s get you something to eat.“
He almost shoved you around but then you resisted. „No.“
„What?“
„I… I want to talk to him. I need to.“
A moment of silence made you look at your uncle. Before he could protest you continued.
„This whole situation is so fucking twisted, Tones. If I ever want to resolve this somehow, I really need to at least try to speak with him. I guess he is secured? Like, really super tied down or something?“
Tony needed a few seconds. „Uhm. Yes, of course. He is. Steve is with him.“
„Would you bring me down? I cannot enter the lift alone anymore…“, you weakly added.
Wordless he offered you his arm and you hooked in.
„Thank you that you‘re not trying to change my mind.“, you said into the silence, looking at your feet.
„Don‘t get me wrong, hunbun, I don‘t know if it‘s that great of an idea. But I know why you want to do this. Do I feel good about this? No. Will I shit my pants when you get close to him? Probably. BUT, you are old enough. And we will secure the situation. So…“
You pulled him into a hug. „Thank you. So much.“
„It‘s okay, honey.“
The bing made you jump a bit and you faced the opening lift doors. You took a deep breath and stepped outside, followed by your uncle. With heavy steps you approached the medical unit. Through the glass front you saw some dark figure lying on the hospital bed. Your bed. That fact somehow unsettled you a bit. Next to it were Steve, sitting on a chair, looking worried. You made eye contact and confused he stood up and came to you outside.
„Y/N, what are you doing here?“, he asked lowly.
„I have to talk to him.“
„I don‘t think it is the right moment. He is under some painkillers now, and—„
„What, is your little assassin too worn out to talk with one of his victims?“, Tony snapped at him.
„I understand you‘re upset, you got every right to, but—“
„No but, he is fucking lucky he is still breathing“, Tony growled.
„Hey, don‘t you come at me like that!“
„Hey!“, a weak voice from inside called. All heads turned. „Stop that yelling, please. If they want to speak with me, let them in.“
Stiff like a robot you shoved Tony and Steve behind and entered the room, both of them following closely. You felt their proximity in your back and signed them to give you some space. Unwillingly they stayed at the door frame. Your whole body felt numb, it was such a weird sensation as you looked down on him. He was tied up with some metal shackles on several points of his body. You knew exactly what that feels like, involuntarily you touched your right wrist, where some scars were left. His face was still young, like only a few years older than you. His dark, stringy hair fell into his eyes, avoiding every contact with yours. However, the black paint around his eyes made their icy blue even deeper. As he quickly darted at your face, you felt the blood in your body freezing.
„I… I am sorry. I‘m not sure if I know you.“, he softly said after a few more looks at you. „But I‘m sure I did horrific things to you. I don‘t know if you‘ll believe me, but most of the things the Soldier did… I cannot tell them apart from my nightmares.“ He struggled to go on.
„I know.“ You surprised yourself by speaking up. „I know it wasn‘t actually you who did all those things. But still… I remember it very clearly.“ You swallowed hard, grabbed a chair to sit down and inhaled deeply. You slightly turned to Tony and Steve. „Please, would you leave now? I want to be alone with him.“
„What? No!“, Tony exclaimed.
You faced him directly now. „Please, Tony. Both of you. Leave.“ It seemed like the tone of your voice and your look were enough to make clear how serious you were. Tony closed his mouth silently and reluctantly both of them left the room, closing the glass door. You knew that they wouldn‘t go far, just far enough to not hear you. For a moment you collected your strength and told him your story.
„I was only ten years old, as you caused a car accident that killed my father immediately. Then you ripped my mother out of her seat and… cracked her skull. You put her back into the car. Her dead eyes are still haunting me, ever since I can remember the incident. Then you came over to me. I already was severely injured, but you were not gentle as you held me into the air. I got an asthma attack, pulled out my inhaler. I don‘t know what you thought, maybe that I had some kind of weapon? Or… I don‘t know, why would a ten year old girl have a weapon in her pocket… but… you grabbed my hand so tight that it broke and the inhaler fell to the ground. Then… something strange happened. I was looking at your face, and even though I only saw your eyes, since the rest of your face was covered, I could watch you turn around. Your look went… soft. And as you saw me in your hand, it went anxious. At first you put me down, but I couldn‘t stand because my legs were so injured. I think they were broken from the impact. So I fell on the floor, took my inhaler. I begged for my life while you just stood there, flabbergasted. Then, you … carefully picked me up? …and brought me to the Doc.“
You avoided looking at him as you spoke. Just now you dared a little glance, that turned into a surprised look. He was crying. The tears formed bright little streaks through the black paint, it was like his mask was melting.
„I… I remember that.“, he stuttered. „Oh, dear god, I remember everything. I am so, so sorry. I cannot even tell you how much. Neither of you deserved any of this. Of what I did to you.“
Now you were the flabbergasted one. You didn‘t know what to expect, but clearly this was none of the scenarios you imagined as you entered the room. Three options appeared in your mind. Run away, punch him in the face or hold his hand. You just sat there while this deadly assassin in front of you, bruised and injured, tied to a hospital bed, cried his eyes out. How were you supposed to handle this?
Taglist: @it-jinxed-us​, @humbledarkness​, @lunawitch19, @redryderdesigns​, @rvgrsbrns
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an-anaemic-pen · 4 years ago
Text
Dance of the Little Swan I.iii
Dance of the Harpy
Prelude || Overture
Summary: The Jötnar were thought to be long-since-gone within the mortal realm. Amidst all of her fakery, Mommy Fortuna holds Loki, trapped in birth from and far from what he once considered home, as well as another little treasure: a swan maiden.
(Yes, this is a crossover, but the Last Unicorn is fairly minimal plot-wise and it’s largely a Loki fic)
Relationships: F/M (Loki/Original Female Character, Molly Grue/Schmendrick)
Rating: M (Graphic Depictions of Violence, Sexual Content)
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Loki’s skin had returned to its usual color after a few days.
The little girl attracted much attention, and Mommy Fortuna was making quite a profit—not that Ceana even  knew anything about how the hag handled her money. The only thing she knew was that Mommy Fortuna looked something brushing against happier than usual and Ruhk had asked for a raise.
They’d been carted across the land for about a week since she and Loki had last spoken.
One night, Ceana had woken up to find his crimson eyes watching her  far  too intently.
She had not slept as well since.
The carts were rattling down a dirt path between two of the larger towns. Out of nowhere, there was a loud screech.
Ceana’s gaze bolted upward. In the cloudy evening sky, she saw a silhouette; the most terrifying silhouette she could possibly imagine. Of course, she’d heard of the harpy in tales, but never imagined she’d come across one in real life.
She was circling the caravan like a hawk, her eye beedy.
By work of the witch’s magic, the cloak, pinned at the tip of her cage, fell down in one movement. Ceana was left in darkness. The cage rattled more as the horses grew uneasy.
Anticipation was pressing against her being. Her heart was pounding, and she sat frozen, barely able to breathe as she waited for the attack. Harpies had keen senses of smell, didn’t they? Could she smell Ceana beneath the covering?
It did not matter, Ceana knew, because the Jötunn would most certainly find her to be a perfect meal.
The harpy cried out, and adrenaline spiked her system.
Ceana squirmed around the prison, desperately reaching out in an attempt to grab the covering and see what was going on. She was able to lift it up enough to see the front of the caravan was—
Still?
It had halted, her cart stopping not long after. She heard another cry, a loud crash, and the splintering of wood. Ceana rushed to the other side of her prison, looking to the back of the caravan.
The giant creature had landed atop Loki’s cart, her sheer mass breaking the roof of his prison. She spread her wings, knocking the cart over as she lifted off. Ceana covered her cage, curling up in a ball and wrapping her arms around her head.
Smaller prey would surely not be as enticing as the horses, who were far more substantial than she. If she had the luck to escape the harpy alive, perhaps she could escape Loki without losing a limb, as well. Ceana hoped her luck could hold out for that long, especially after being so poor for the period of time she had been imprisoned.
It felt like the horse was attempting to break free of his holds. Ceana’s cage fell from its base, knocking her to the ground. She could feel her body bruising as she slammed against the metal.
The world outside her dark little haven was muffled havoc. She could hear grunts and garbled yells, they were Ruhk’s, she realized, as well as Mommy Fortuna calling out spells. A grotesque squelch entered her ears as the witch’s voice was rather abruptly cut off.
Chills ran along her entire body. Ceana felt faint.
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“Awaken, swan.”
Ceana did not wish to. The world of sleep was quiet and warm, and she did not have to deal with the poking hands of those in the crowd. An icy palm touched her shoulder, and Ceana’s eyes flickered open. She lurched away from the freezing touch, banging her head against something hard.
“Stay still, lest you wish to die,” the voice was demanding, yet also surprisingly gentle.
After a few moments of awkward half-staring and much blinking, Ceana was able to get her eyes to focus. The clouds had cleared to reveal the sun. The blazing sunset framed him, the orange a sharp contrast to his blue skin.
Ceana was still inside her cage, and her cloak felt like it had been draped over her form.  He has seen me, then.
She stared at him with wide eyes as he reached through the door of her cage, which looked to have been forced open since the lock was broken, and flinched when he touched her. He had not done so since the ship, and she expected his palm to be cold, but it felt…  normal —if that was the correct phrase.
Ceana did something at least akin to relax when he next spoke. “You are hurt,” he said.
Ceana’s eyes followed his arm to where he was lifting her shin to inspect it. Only now did she notice the large scrape across her skin and realize how much it hurt. Her head panged and she carefully lifted her hand.
Her arm didn’t hurt outside the dull ache caused by a bruise, and she gingerly felt the pain on her head. Thankfully, it was just a bump; her mother had always called them goose-eggs. The memory made her smile softly—she missed her family.
Loki ripped off a large section of the cloak and Ceana yelped in surprise; he flinched at the volume of her voice. She immediately held the remaining cover closer against her.
“Must you  scream  when I am trying to  help you?” He proceeded to grab her leg.
When Ceana attempted to kick him, he simply gripped her tighter. She struggled against him with all of her might—not that there  was  much. So, he grabbed her foot with his free hand, pinning her against the cold metal of the cage.
“Don’t eat me!” Ceana yelped and tried to scramble back. She had been hoping she would sound threatening, or at least defensive, but it came out as more of a plea.
He barked out a laugh. “Perhaps I won’t if you sit still.”
The ‘perhaps’ was all it took for her to be subdued. She hadn’t been eaten by the harpy, so perhaps her luck would hold out.
“Good.” He wrapped her lower leg in the scrap of cloth, tying it tightly enough that it wouldn’t come loose, but not so tightly that it was uncomfortable.
Then, he offered her his hand.
Ceana looked at it, half dumbfounded that she was still alive.
“Would you like me to leave you in the cage to starve?”
Ceana only had half her mind when she answered: “no.”
“No,  Your Highness.”
She bit her lip. He  had just helped her, as he said he would. “No, Your Highness.” She wrapped the cloak around her as best as she could before hesitantly taking his hand. Against his blue palm, her hands appeared even smaller and more delicate.
Loki hoisted her up, one hand holding hers while the other wrapped carefully around her waist. Ceana couldn’t tell whether it was to help support her and keep her body covered by the cloak, or to have an excuse to touch her. Perhaps it was both? She didn’t know much about mortal men, let alone  Jötnar.
Once she was safely out of the cage, Loki released his grasp. Ceana noticed him avert his gaze and she took the chance to rearrange the cloth into a makeshift dress of sorts. She grabbed the covering of her cage, splayed out across the grass in a disheveled heap, and wrapped it around her shoulders as an extra layer.
Then, she heard a quiet sob.
It wasn’t coming from Loki, of course, but from the general direction he was standing in, relative to Ceana. She took a few steps towards the noise, limping slightly as she went.
  “You’re welcome.”
She raised her hand dismissively. Ceana knew she’d probably pay for that later, but she felt a maternal urge rise from somewhere within—gods only knew where—and she  needed  to find what was causing that sound.
She heard Loki not-so-subtly mutter “ungrateful wretch,” but she ignored it.
Ceana attempted to hurry her pace, and her foot got caught in the cloak’s trailing hem. She tripped, tumbling to the ground most ungracefully. The grass swished as someone walked past her. Then, the sobbing grew louder.
By the time Ceana was able to gain her footing again, the Jötunn had wrangled a small being from a cart’s wreckage and was carrying the screaming thing over to her. She realized it was the little girl, who was currently trying desperately to free herself from the tight grasp of the Jötunn.
He shoved the child into her arms and Ceana attempted to comfort her. When the screeching thing wouldn’t relax in her arms, Ceana put her down on the ground. She only had a minimal amount of experience with human children—her younger sisters were in swan form until they fully matured.
“Hey, hey, hey.” She began to shush the child—Annie, she decided to call her—and gently put her hands on the little one’s shoulders. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Ceana glanced behind her. Loki was rummaging through the dead body that once belonged to Ruhk, his hands getting covered in blood as he sifted through the carnage.
Ceana opted to turn Annie around so the already-traumatized child would not see, shifting, so she was still in front of her. Then, she reached out, wiping away the tears streaming from Annie’s big blue eyes. Her hair was strawberry blonde, and she looked as she had before Mommy Fortuna had cast the illusion.
Ceana assumed that the old hag had gotten what she deserved.
“I know I’m not your mamma, but I can take care of you until we find her.” Ceana did not even know if the poor girl had a mother.
Annie seemed to begin to realize that Ceana was not going to hurt her, and ran into her arms, burying her face into Ceana’s chest.
She smiled softly, running her fingers through Annie’s tangled hair and picking out wood chips. The fact the girl had managed to survive with a just a few scrapes and bruises was a miracle, and Ceana found herself thanking the gods.
She glanced at Loki, who had moved on to another one of Mommy Fortuna’s henchmen.
Now that her racing heart was beginning to start the process of slowing down, Ceana realized that she felt…  free.  She had not felt that way since Mommy Fortuna had taken her feather.
Her sisters never told her about their hearts feeling confined after they were married. If she ever saw them again, she would have to ask them.
The feeling of freedom did not last long, however. She could hear Loki looting the bodies as Annie’s sobs quieted and the little one fell asleep. Annie was not at all heavy, but it felt like a moose had settled its weight upon her chest, and Ceana had to catch her breath for a moment.
She turned to the Jötunn. He was smiling.
He held up a woven garment of twigs which Ceana had used to make an armband; a small tail feather had been attached before she turned for the first time. Now, the feather was broken, snapped in two and barely hanging together where it was still held in one piece.
Loki walked up to her. When she tried to take her feather, he snatched it away. “For now, little swan, you are  mine.”
Her sisters had told her marriage was a wonderful thing. It was part of the legend—as long as the swan maiden put her feather out, a good, loving man would find it and become her husband. She would be bound it him, but he would be good to her. It was a fair trade, Ceana had thought. A male counterpart of her kind did not exist, so it was necessary for the maidens to find husbands.
But her feather had not brought her a good husband—it had not brought her a husband at all, and now, she was bound to a Jötunn who claimed he was the God of Lies. The weight over her heart told Ceana that Loki would  not  be good in any way.
“Come, swan, we must leave.” It was practically a purr. He knew the power he now held, dangling it over her head like a piece of bait.
Ceana pulled Annie against her, picking the child up and cradling her as she stood. Loki, thankfully, helped her up, but Ceana tore her arm from his grasp. The little child did not stir.
“We must find a brook to clean your wound. While you were addling about hugging that thing, I found the food supply and packed as much as I can carry.”
“Am I not going to carry it,  Your Highness?”  Ceana wasn’t exactly sure as to where the snark had come from, or why she was asking in the first place.
“You are  weak,  and it would slow us down. Do you recognize this area?”
She did not want to answer him. So, she didn’t. The legend dictated that she could not leave him, but she did not have to obey his every command, either.
“Speak,  unless you want me to make you my next meal.” He bared his teeth.
Her heart skipped a beat, and Ceana held onto Annie a little tighter. “No, I don’t know where we are.”
“Address me with my given title.”
“No, Your Highness.”
“The entire sentence.”
“Are you serious?”
“Do not question me,  swan—”
“Your Highness, you  are  aware that I have a name, correct?”
He scoffed. “Of course, Ǣsbiǫrndóttir. I merely figured you would not wish to grow too…  personal.” He cupped her face with his hand, his thumb running over her lower lip and sending icy relief to it. She could feel how swollen it was near the corner, most likely from accidentally biting herself while tumbling around in the cage.
It felt oddly intimate to have a hand cupping her cheek, so Ceana turned away. He lowered his hand, eyes glowering, and began to walk towards the sun.
Ceana decided to make the best out of a bad situation. “Do you plan on traveling all night? It would be best to remain here until the morning.”
The Jötunn looked at her, pondered, then spoke. “Very well. Find a place to put the child, then set up a camp while I will go collect wood. We leave at dawn.” Then, he walked away.
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It was a small fire, but the Jötunn, no surprise, stayed far away. Annie was still sound asleep, curled up amidst one of the covers. Loki had been kind enough to drag all of the bodies into one of the largest coverings, wrapping them up so they were out of sight. He said he would set them alight once they left.
Ceana was unlucky to have seen the remains of the witch. She now stared at the fire, trying to burn the image of the blood and various gore-ish organs out of her memory.
“What do you know of this place?”
Ceana looked up but said nothing.
“It was not a request, swan.”
Her lips pursed and she sighed in annoyance. “Not much, Your Highness.”
“I require the  actual information,  not a rough amount.”
Her eyebrow cocked, and Ceana blinked. “The way these people talk tells me that we are in Scotland. I would say we are somewhere in the highlands.”
“Is there anything else?”
“I know a few tales that are common across the land, if you would like to hear them.”
He seemed genuinely interested. Ceana did not believe him. “What creatures do you know of?”
She thought of every story she had heard while in the colder months, when she migrated south to stay with warmer weather. “I’ve heard of the Loch Ness Monster, Kelpies, and Selkies many times, as well as the Sídhe and spirits known as Fuathan. More uncommonly, I’ve heard of the three Siths, and only a couple of tales of the unicorn and the Sluagh.”
“Tell me of these creatures.”
“The Loch Ness Monster is a serpent-like monster. Not much is known about her other than her location. Kelpies are water spirits that appear as horses, luring their victims to ride them, then taking them off into the waters to drown them. Selkies are similar to those like myself, except they are seals, rather than swans, and the Sídhe are little humans the size of my smallest finger with wings, known for their work of mischief. I believe Fuathan are spirits in general, as I have not heard them be specified.”
“What of the three Siths? Are they something akin to the Nornir?”
Annie stirred and Ceana placed her hand lightly on the girl’s upper arm, soothing her back to sleep. She shook her head when Annie relaxed again. “The siths are three phantoms, unrelated other than the fact they all hail from the highlands. I do not know what their individual names are, but they are malevolent spirits.”
“What do you know of the Unicorn?”
Ceana blinked and followed Loki as he got up from the makeshift cloak he had made from one of the coverings—which Ceana, of course, was tasked with carrying when he grew too hot—and threw a plank of wood on the fire. He hissed when a wayward ember landed on his leg. He flicked it away and stalked back to where he had originally been, settling down on his cloak.
“Unicorns are rare creatures. They can only be seen by other magical creatures and pure-of-heart virgins. They hold rejuvenating magic unlike any other, and even the smallest amount of dust from a crushed horn can cure any illness or curse.”
“And the Sluagh?”
Chills ran down her spine. She had only heard one tale of the Sluagh, from an estranged man at the coast on her first migration being able to turn human. She and her sisters were resting on a beach when she turned into a maiden, walking around and growing more adjusted to her arms and un-webbed toes.
She’d run into the man, who didn’t seem to notice that she was completely uncovered, and he had gripped her by the shoulders desperately. “Beware the Sluagh,” he’d said, “vicious, vicious things, the restless dead coming from the west. You won’t make it out alive—not a pretty thing like you. No, the strongest warriors barely escape their hunger.”
Ceana had taken his shaking hands in hers. “Hunger?”
He’d leaned in so close their noses brushed against each other. “Flesh,” he’d whispered. “Warm, soft, human flesh.” He’d collapsed after that.
Ceana had promptly called her sisters and her mother, who had come with them. She’d pronounced him dead, and they’d flown off after that.
Ceana had not seen any Sluagh. Or perhaps she had and just hadn’t realized it; the man hadn’t exactly told her what they looked like.
“They are vicious flesh-eaters, Your Highness. Only the strongest of warriors barely escape them.”
“Flesh-eaters?” He barked out a laugh. Ceana briefly wondered as to why a supposed god’s laugh was so harsh. “I suppose every land has their legends.”
“You do not believe they are real?”
Loki sighed and lay down on his back. He absent-mindedly played with the broken feather, still attached to her armband. As if on impulse, he ripped the feather from the twigs and threw the woven article into Ceana’s lap. “You may keep that part; I have no use for it.”
“You did not answer my question, Your Highness.”
She barely noticed his crimson irises flicker in her direction. “I am a prince of the Nine Realms, girl,  I answer to none.”
She licked her lips, only then realizing how thirsty she was.  It will have to wait.  She didn’t want to leave Annie alone with the creature who might still eat both of them.  Power in numbers. She settled down, wrapping her cloak around her body like a cocoon and closing her eyes. She tried to ignore the innate and unmistakable sense that she was being watched.
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histrionic-dragon · 4 years ago
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A little unusual: An MCU AU idea/partial fic outline
This floated into my head as I floated awake this morning.  My subconscious apparently put together the basic idea of this thread (Tony doesn’t know, but he has super-soldier serum because of Howard’s experiments on himself) with all the fanfics about “Hydra used Bucky and/or Steve’s DNA to try to make another supersoldier” and came up with a rich angst-mine.
Say that one of these Hydra experiments succeeded in the early seventies--succeeded, that is, in that the subject was viable. They have no idea if the super-soldier serum traits have been passed on. The only place with the equipment required to test that is a SHIELD lab, so a few well-placed Hydra minions sneak the two-day-old baby in for testing. But babies cry, and the boss has a habit of wandering around the facilities, especially the labs, when he can’t sleep.
Howard and Maria Stark can’t have children. But when Howard happens upon a baby apparently abandoned in a SHIELD lab, well, that’s concerning for a number of reasons. (The SHIELD agents closest to the lab swear they heard the crying and were coming to check it out, and they think they saw someone run away that way, Director, but they couldn’t give chase because they wanted to make sure the baby was alright.... and as they say this, they kick the super-soldier-serum detection test kit under a nearby desk. Maybe we should heighten the security around the labs, Director Stark.)  But when no one claims the kid, it kind of feels like fate, too. I mean, a child discovered in a lab? There’s really no one better to pass on a legacy of creation and defense to, is there?
They never tell the kid he’s adopted--apparently until the last few decades, that was the norm--and they don’t tell many other people, either, just some close friends, who they ask not to tell the boy either. (Obadiah Stane is surprised at first, and worried about Howard being distracted by a child, but Howard laughs and tells him that will never happen, and if the kid somehow isn’t interested in science, well, maybe he’ll just dump the company on Obie instead! Stane laughs and drinks to that, and it’s forgotten.) Howard and Maria both travel a lot, and everyone just assumes that they were somewhere else during the pregnancy. The child has dark hair and he’s scary smart and he picks up Howard’s mannerisms like the little sponge he is, and it never crosses anyone’s minds that he’s not their biological son.
They wanted him, and they were happy to have him, but even that doesn’t stop Howard from getting sucked up into his work. Despite what he said to Obie, Howard never truly believed his little laboratory foundling wouldn’t be interested in science. If anything, it might even make him more desperate to have the child be the person he can pass on his legacy to. They wanted him, but it doesn’t stop the friction. It doesn’t stop them from arguing.
It’s a little unusual, as he gets older, how he can pull so many all-nighters, handle heavy sheets of metal alone, and has reflexes good enough to escape the worst lab accidents even when he’s tired or drunk or hungover, but that’s genius for you--genius or a skewed but intense work ethic. Probably both. You’d need both for that, right? The endless buckets of money and privilege can’t hurt his ability to get away with things, either. He even keeps functioning longer than you’d expect when he forgets to eat. He’s just...he’s tough, and dedicated, but that’s not so unusual, right?
“The serum amplifies what is already there.” What does that mean if it’s passed along genetically? What’s already there in a newborn? Well: potential. Babies want to grow, and learn, and do. They want to live and create and be loved. Turn that up to 11 and you have someone larger-than-life, a brilliant, grandstanding, partying, hard-working inventor/CEO.
No one thinks of that as superhuman, just a little extra.
And so it’s a little unusual when he stays alive long enough for Yinsen’s jury-rigged car-battery medical device to stop the shrapnel from reaching his heart. It’s a little impressive that he can get up and stagger to the lab after Stane paralyzes him, instead of lying helpless on the couch, frozen, until he dies. Maybe he lives with palladium poisoning for several months without anyone but him noticing the effects because the effects aren’t as bad as they would be for someone else, at first. Whether he’s resistant to Loki’s mind control because of some mysterious boost to his own psychic resistance or because the scepter needs skin contact, not reactor contact, is unclear.
He’s Tony Stark. He’s Iron Man. No one notices if he’s a little unusual because he’s always at some far end of the bell curve.
And then there’s the Hydra data drop, and Steve Rogers with a crazy story, asking him if he can find anything in the data drop, anything to supplement the files Natasha got from Russia. So he looks. The Hydra database doesn’t have much information on the Winter Soldier (they must have kept most of that offline, or there would be no canonical shocking revelation from Zemo; it would have been out there already). But there are a few mentions of a “Project Snowfall” that he digs into because of the loose similarity in theme, just to be thorough. He thinks it’s related from a few redacted lines, and that makes it all the more interesting, because the project was apparently successful, but mysteriously abandoned.
Tony looks at the files. It’s weird biological stuff, mainly, and he’s not a biologist and he’s just skimming, but there’s a date near the end with “viable” and then a date just days later with “confiscated before testing,” which isn’t a term he’s seen before in these files. Not “terminated,” not “tests negative,” but “confiscated,” accompanied by a note on trying again when more secure facilities can be found for the testing process. Then a note on holding off on that because “distant observation of subject” reveals nothing special.
Maybe he wouldn’t think much of it, except for when those final dates are.
And then he thinks of something Obadiah Stane said when he took the reactor out of Tony’s chest.   ....But no. No, that’s crazy.
Tony looks at the files.
Tony looks in the mirror.
Tony, for the first time, looks at his own social security card and birth certificate, and then at the other--ever-so-slightly questionable--documentation around the beginning of his life.
Tony, feeling embarrassed and irritated and--always--curious, asks JARVIS to muck around with Photoshop and face recognition software and pictures of Tony, Howard, and Bucky Barnes.
Tony talks to Pepper.
...I’m not sure what happens next, and how it affects Civil War, because it depends on when Tony and Steve talk about what, and when Tony gets his hands on a DNA sample and shoves two random samples at Bruce and says “just run it. Please,” and refuses to say what’s going on.  (Or whether Bruce is around for him to do so--stupid Age of Ultron taking away Tony’s science bro.) And there are a million ways Bucky could react to finding out, too. I may write one or more ways it could go in this same sketch/outline way later. For now I just have the basic premise.
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home-and-having-tea · 4 years ago
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Cold
Chapter Five, 1249 words
Summary: just. shameless fluff. ⁱ'ᵐ ᵗᵒᵒ ᵗⁱʳᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉ ᵃⁿ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡ ˢᵘᵐᵐᵃʳʸ (fic below the cut)
The sky threatened snow, with the faintest hint of blue sky shimmering off in the distance. Despite the grey weather, Asmund sat cross-legged beneath his favorite tree, its branches whistling in the cold air. In his lap, the pages of a book with colored illustrations of insects and flowers fluttered in the breeze weaving through the branches above. He held his pencil, twirling it between two fingers as he studied the iridescent tansy beetle walking around inside the glass. After a few minutes, he held the page up to the bug as the muted burgundy of his cloak flapped in the wind.
“What do you think? Is it a fitting portrait?” he asked, the beetle walking up the side of the jar, seemingly studying the drawing. It stretched its wings, beating them for a moment. Asmund laughed, placing the sketchbook back in his lap. “Glad you like it, good sir. Thank you for sitting still long enough for me.” He picked up the jar, releasing the bug inside. The beetle spun up through the air until it vanished from his sight on the winds. The prince glanced back down at the wavering page, studying the picture of the green insect.
“If it’s any help,” a smooth voice said, “I think it's a wonderful depiction, dear.”
Asmund jumped, his sketchbook slamming closed in his lap. Standing above him, Loki gave him a mischievous grin. Asmund’s face burned warm, his heart feeling as if it were about to beat straight through his chest.
“Do you ever plan to stop sneaking up on me?” he asked, a faint smile playing at his lips as he tried to still his heart against Loki’s smile. The grinning god sat next to him, one leg pulled close to his chest. Asmund leaned against his shoulder, feeling a delicate kiss placed on the top of his head.
“Not at all. Your reactions are too enjoyable,” Loki said playfully, entwining his fingers with Asmund’s. The prince laughed, looking up at the god’s warm smile, contrasting greatly in the biting cold of the outdoors. It made him go a little bit dizzy.
“You’re torture. I’m glad you’re back,” he smiled into soft fabric that still smelled of sweet lavender, a scent he’d quickly come to adore. Loki squeezed his hand.
“I missed you,” Loki said, the wind whistling through the branches faintly over the sound of his voice. Asmund nuzzled closer into him against the chill, tugging his woolen cloak tighter to his chest. “What are you doing out here in this weather, dearest?”
“I, er, wanted to draw a bug,” he mumbled into the green cloak. The prince had always felt self-conscious about his art, to say the least. Loki chuckled, rubbing circles on the back of Asmund’s hand. The prince laughed along, opening his sketchbook with his left hand to the page displaying a drawing of the beetle. The paper fluttered in the breeze. “It was a very nice bug.”
He felt another kiss pressed to his temple. “So I saw. You know, you are a very talented artist, my dearest.” Asmund blushed, hiding his face in the god’s tunic. He glanced up, gazing into smiling eyes.
“Do you draw?”
“Not at all. I’m a dreadful artist, but I’m fascinated by nature. In fact, I just started reading the most fascinating book about the pupation of butterflies and-” Asmund sat up, leaning back against the tree’s trunk with a smile. Loki looked over at him, his eyes gone slightly grey. “Sorry, am I boring you?” The prince shook his head, leaning over the few inches distance to kiss Loki’s cheek.
“There’s nothing in the world that could bore me when it comes from you,” he said, gently tapping a pattern on the side of the god’s hand with his thumb. “Now, tell me everything about your book, darling.” Loki’s smile came back full force, warming Asmund from the inside out. It felt as if the sun decided to shine its full golden warmth on him in particular.
As Loki rambled on about caterpillars and camouflage and cocoons, Asmund found his left hand moving across the page of his sketchbook almost as if by its own will. As the sketch took form, he smiled at recognizing the familiar grin of his handsome prince.
As the weather grew colder, Loki’s explanation of butterflies grew more animated and Asmund’s drawing of him more detailed, though he couldn’t seem to get the lay of his ink-dark curls in the wind just right. Little flurries had begun to fall, shimmering like stars in the night before melting quickly. Asmund’s gaze flickered to the page as he studied the fall of grey shadows on Loki’s face.
“Darling?”
Asmund slammed his book shut and dropped it to the ground, his cheeks warm as he realized Loki had been talking to him. He didn’t quite know why, but he was hesitant to show his drawing. It probably wasn’t half as good as the portraits done on Asgard. Loki tilted his head to the side, snowflakes glittering in his curls.
“You look half-frozen. Can I take you inside?”
Asmund laughed softly. He’d been so focused on Loki, he’d barely even noticed how chilled he’d become. “I think watching the snow will be quite a bit nicer when I can feel my hands, hm?”
Loki held his hands in both of his own, replying with a smile, “I think that sounds much nicer.” He pulled Asmund to his feet, but the prince tripped over a root. He found himself by accident, but not to any sort of dismay, kissing Loki. Asmund tightened his grasp on his cool hands, leaning forward into the comforting pressure. He felt the other smile into their kiss.
“Thought we were going to go inside, dearest,” Loki whispered against his lips, the wind spinning snowflakes in spirals around their billowing cloaks. Asmund grinned, pressing his forehead against the god’s.
“Just trying to warm up a bit,” he teased with a chuckle. The snow now falling freely over the garden, the two princes walked in through a set of oak doors. Upon arriving at the library, a place Asmund now associated with tenderness and affection, he asked a servant to fetch the two of them a pot of his favorite cinnamon tea. As soon as the servant left, Asmund felt something draped over his shoulders and a barely-there kiss pressed to his cheek.
“You really must stop catching chills outside, or I’ll run out of cloaks to give you,” the prince heard Loki say, a hint of a smile in his voice. Asmund pulled the green fabric tighter around his shoulders, turning to roll his eyes playfully at Loki.
“Ah, but I do so love stealing them, starlight.”
“You must be quite the thief for stealing both my heart and my best cloaks.”
Asmund blushed, covering his face with his hands as he dropped to the window seat. “How dare you be a torturously good flirt,” he mumbled, the rush of blood to his cheeks warming the cold of his fingers. He heard Loki sit next to him and leaned into him, finding his touch much warmer than usual. The prince peeked through the gap in his fingers with soft eyes, taking in the soft emerald glow surrounding them both. Loki smiled, his eyes the same shade of warm green.
“Pay me back by not getting hypothermia, dearest.”
Asmund laughed, curling up under Loki’s cloak in the magicked warmth. “Sounds fair to me.”
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chipper9906 · 3 years ago
Text
Heal The Cracks Within My Heart - Chapter 15: The Trickster Tricked
< - - - Previous Chapter
WARNING: SPOILERS FOR LOKI SEASON 1 EPISODE 6 ‘FOR ALL TIME. ALWAYS.’
Pairings: Loki/Sylvie
Rating: General Audiences
Chapter Word Count: 7,431
Overall Word Count: 126,107
Status: Multi Chapter Fic - In Progress (15/?)
Chapter Preview:
“You might want to try giving it to your friend Stark, if he’s not too busy doing… whatever it is that he does,” Loki suggests. “I mean, you did just say he figured out time travel, didn’t you?”
Any semblance of a joking smile forming on Loki’s face is quickly wiped away at the uncomfortable tension that settled over them like a stifling blanket. Strange almost seems to flinch at the sound of Stark’s name, something akin to guilt crossing his face. Wanda on the other hand had gone frozen, apart from her eyes that had quickly dropped to the ground.
“What? What is it?” Loki asked, baffled by the sudden change.
“Tony Stark is dead.”
Link To Fic
OR
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* * *
 So this is how it felt to die whilst still alive. 
Was he in shock? That had to be it. That explained why he wasn’t doing anything. Then again, what should he be doing? Yelling in rage, perhaps? There’s certainly something trapped in his throat, but he wasn’t sure if it was his heart, a scream, or maybe even vomit. There’s a little nagging feeling that he should be doing something about the variant of ‘Him’ who still had a foot on Sylvie, not looking even the slightest bit worried about his presence as he yanks the blade out of… out of…
There’s blood, bright and wet, coating the pruning stick, dripping steadily off its pointed end and on the floor, coating Sylvie’s chest, and -- why do his knees hurt? Oh, he had collapsed to his knees. That’d explain it. His vision swims in and out of focus as he slumps back until he’s sat, barely catching himself with his arms to stop him from ending up lying flat out on his back. The sound of his fall pulls His attention towards Loki, and as His gaze lands on him, there’s just a moment where Loki can almost trick himself into believing there’s a hint of pity hiding away there. 
“An unfortunate necessity…” The variant of Him mutters as he gives the stick in his hand a flick to try and remove the blood staining it, sending a few drops flying and staining the marble floor. “In our line of work… there’s a lot of them. I’d like to say you get used to it, but… you don’t. Not really. You just learn to put the justification of it first. Remind yourself why it’s a necessity, no matter how unpleasant it may seem, and get the job done.”
“...Why?” Is all Loki can force out. His eyes had cruelly forced themselves to focus on Sylvie — on her still body, her stained clothes, those teasing eyes now blank and empty--
“You know why,” He replies, finally giving Sylvie at least a bit of decency by removing his foot from her corpse. “I’m cleaning up her mess, one step at a time. I’m doing my job. It’s one thing for you both to be responsible for all this — it’s another thing entirely that you’re doing all you can to impede us from fixing that mess. Everything needs to be restored to the way it was. The way it’s supposed to be. And this Loki?” He barely gives Sylvie a glance as he gestures a hand down at her still form. “She was never long for this universe.”
Something stirs in Loki’s chest. A little bit of that anger that he feels should have overwhelmed him the second he saw what had happened. “That’s not for you to decide--”
“Oh, but it is,” He objects, pointing the pruning stick down at Loki. “It wasn’t, at one point. I didn’t exist until your friend here stabbed that other variant of myself — the last one of us remaining to keep things running nice and smooth. Now, I’m the one that makes those necessary decisions. But it’s not just me —and I think you know that already. There’s as many versions of myself trying to fix this mess as there are versions of myself trying to take advantage of it and make that ugly mess so -- much -- uglier.”
“So now what?” Loki asks, already sounding defeated. “I’m not supposed to exist either, right? I’m just another Loki that trailed off his set tracks of destiny. You going to kill me too?”
For a moment, He just stares at Loki, the pruning stick held pointed at him held unnaturally still. Then… he smiles. It’s an odd type of smile. Something between Him finding something Loki had said humorous, and like a friendly smile used to lure him into a false sense of security… 
“Is that what you want?”
“I--”
“Alright, that’s enough.”
Loki wakes up once again. 
Although, saying he 'wakes up' was a stretch. More, one second he’s sat in that citadel, He Who Remains — a version of him, anyway —grinning down at him like a Cheshire cat with Sylvie’s body sprawled out just by his feet. Then, he blinks, and he’s… staring at a rather pensive-looking Doctor Strange. He has a hand under his chin, resting on an arm that’s crossed across his body, his eyes boring into Loki’s like he can see something there that he desperately needs to see. 
It takes Loki’s befuddled mind a bit to realize he was no longer on the armchair. He had somehow managed to find his way to the floor, sat back like he had been back in the citadel. The armchair had actually been knocked down somehow — both of them, in fact. The confusion in his mind hangs heavy like a fog, so much so that it takes a few seconds for the confusion to pass and be replaced by pure elation and relief when his gaze lands on Sylvie, very much alive. 
And looking very much pissed. 
She’s stood from her armchair, but that seemed to be as far as she had gotten. She was being restrained and held back by… 
By a cloak?
Yep, that was definitely it. The oddly moving cloak that had been wrapped around Strange’s shoulders had wrapped itself around Sylvie, keeping her held back as she tried to get to him
Sylvie seemed to calm somewhat in her agitated movements when she noticed Loki’s eyes on her, seeing that he was partly back to himself – partly back in control of his own mind. 
Something tickles at Loki’s face, and it’s only when he raises a hand to wipe it away that he realizes it was tears trickling down his cheeks. What in the Hell had happened? Was it a vision? A glimpse of the future? Had he been trapped inside his own mind? If that was the case, then what had happened to his real body in the time he was there? Did he say anything out loud? He must have been re-enacting his movements somewhat to have ended up off the chair and onto the floor. 
“What the hell did you do to me?” Loki demands Strange, finding his legs rather wobbly as he struggled up to his feet. 
But it’s not Strange who answers him. “I showed you your worst nightmare.”
Loki startles at the unexpected voice, nearly pulling something in his neck as he whips his head around to see who was standing quite so close behind him. He comes face to face with a young woman he had never seen before, her accent rich yet unplaceable to him. Her red hair falls down her shoulders, not quite as red as the burgundy-colored jacket she wore. She looks at Loki with an understandable level of wariness — something that Loki has gotten used to people looking at him with — but there’s also something else there. Something like… understanding. In fact, it almost looked like… he’d almost say empathy, but it was more than that. It was… it was sympathy.
It was like she knew all too well the kind of pain he had just been forced to experience. 
“This is Wanda Maximoff,” Strange introduces on behalf of this mystery woman. “Like you, she’s been… rather busy.”
“From what I’ve seen?” The woman — Wanda— says. “It’s nothing compared to the level of what’s happened here.”
“What did you do to me?” Loki asks her. 
“I took a peek inside your head,” she answers. “Through your memories — what you fear most. Then I simply… manifested it for you to see.”
“Simply…?” Loki blanches. “You… you shouldn’t have been able to see inside my head. I mean, I… I had control of my mind, there’s no way you should have been able to infiltrate it. That’s… my mind is off-limits for enchantments.”
“Not for me,” Wanda counters with a shrug of her shoulders. 
“Could you call this thing off me?” Sylvie bites through gritted teeth, pulling uselessly as the cloaks tight bonds. 
Strange must be somewhat assured that Sylvie was no longer a threat, as he gestures with a flick of the hand for his cloak to release her without much thought. Sylvie can’t help but glare at the offending piece of fabric as it flutters back over to its owner, rolling her shoulders to try and ease the ache of being held back so tightly. The glare fades quickly as her gaze lands back on Loki — on the disturbed expression that remained on his face —and she appears back by his side in less than a blink. 
“You okay?” She asks the second she gets to him. It was hard for Loki to miss the way she slides herself in between him, Strange, and Wanda, keeping the latter two as separated from him as much as possible.
“I will be,” Loki promises her, glancing down to the comforting hand she had placed on his forearm. “Bit like waking from a nightmare… Just got to give it some time for the last dregs to dissipate.”
Whilst he says this, Loki knows full well it won’t entirely be the case. Yes, eventually the rush of adrenaline will subside, and the slight tremors through his limbs will begin to cease with it… But if he was being overprotective of Sylvie before? Boy oh boy… was that going to get a lot worse. 
“You’re sure you saw his memories?” Strange asks Wanda. “Can you be certain he didn’t… implant some fake memories?”
“Yes, and yes,” Wanda answers, sounding almost bored with Strange’s lack of faith in her abilities. “I could practically taste his surprise as I entered his mind. He was in no way expecting what happened.”
“Then what did you see?” Strange asks Wanda, though keeps his curious gaze fixated on Sylvie and Loki, watching the two practically gravitate towards the other to keep the other safe. 
“I saw… outer space,” Wanda begins. “And a castle, sat upon a floating rock, surrounded by colors and… strands.”
Strange raises an eyebrow at the wording. “Strands?” 
“Bright and extending everywhere,” Wanda continues. “Like they were… flayed. Broken… broken free.”
“The timeline,” Sylvie jumps in. “He had made it to be… one continuous strand. Small moments that could separate — deviate — from the timeline He wanted all tied up and kept to his regulations. Now, without him… they’re free to deviate however they wish, even going as far as creating their own timeline, which branches off into another timeline, and another, and another, and so on.”
“I saw a man,” Wanda continues. “He was… imposing. Spoke like he was in control, and he knew it. He talked about taking a deal, or more specifically, a deal that these two did not take. He mentioned other versions of himself, and he…”
Strange’s eyes flickered over to Wanda when he noticed her hesitancy. “And he what?”
Wanda locked eyes with Sylvie before answering. “He killed her. Right in front of Loki… he killed her.”
Sylvie blinked in surprise at the answer, turning her shocked gaze up to Loki. Understanding flooded through her as to why Loki was in the state that he was, feeling her heart squeeze painfully in her chest as she was reminded of the tears that had slipped down his face, so clearly in anguish whilst she was unable to reach him. Her hand reaches up to caress the side of his face, only to find Loki resisting the turn of her hand. He didn’t want to look her in the eyes, not when… not when he’s so terrified of seeing those blank, lifeless eyes staring back at him once again. Even though, deep down, he knows he will see nothing but concern for him in her eyes… he can’t shake the image of them from out of his mind. 
“From what I’ve seen… it sounds like they’re telling the truth,” Wanda says, and Loki can’t entirely tell whether she’s pleased or displeased to figure this out. It was almost like she was terrified of the concept of it yet… there was something akin to hope— to the possibility of possibilities — in her voice. 
Strange hums. It’s long and drawn out, and Loki wonders if something had finally snapped in that magically gifted mind of his. Even Wanda, his apparent acquaintance (Co-worker? Friend? Fellow… Sorcerer?) looks a little uncertain with what to do when nothing but silence rings out after his oddly long hum. 
All three of them watch with a twinge of concern as Strange walks over to the last standing armchair in the room he was sat on previously, settling down on it with the emptiest, dead-looking expression Loki thinks he’s ever seen. His hand remains at his face, rubbing absentmindedly back and forth and back and forth over his mouth as he stares into nothing. 
“What…” Strange breaks the silence, pulling his hand away from his mouth. “Was the point?”
Loki shoots a glance towards both Sylvie and Wanda, but neither of them seem to know what Strange was trying to get at either. “��Pardon?”
“I… am supposed to be the Sorcerer Supreme. I am… was… supposed to be the one responsible for the protection of the time stone — protection over the fragility that is time. I’ve been warned, countless of times, the consequences that comes with meddling in it. And now?” Strange laughs, a particularly bitter-sounding thing. “There’s an organization, a single being, who had control over it all this whole time—” Strange purses his lips at the unfortunate wording. 
Strange sighs heavily, running a hand over his eyes. “When it came down to it, I thought I had made the right decision. That, by looking through millions of possible futures, it was down to me to make sure events transpired the way they needed to for us to win. I had to ensure that...” Strange trails off for a moment, shaking his head. “Now, with what you’ve told us… it didn’t matter, did it? It wouldn’t have mattered if I chose the wrong choice, because they would have stepped in, wouldn’t they? I mean... all those other futures — those other choices — probably did occur, even for a fleeting moment before this… this…?”
“TVA.” Sylvie assumed he was trying to recall their name. 
“The TVA,” Strange repeats, the name sounding hollow. “The TVA would have removed those existences anyway.”
“...You could always look on the bright side.” Loki pretends not to feel threatened by the icy glare Strange sends his way for that suggestion. And yet, he continues anyway. “At least the timeline where Thanos is defeated was chosen to be in the sacred timeline.”
“So, wait—” Wanda cuts into the conversation. “You’re saying that every single moment that’s happened… was supposed to happen?”
“So long as it was what ‘He’ chose to happen, yeah,” Sylvie answers. 
“Everything?” Wanda says incredulously. “So one man had the ability to ensure our lives go one way or another? He could have the power to make sure everyone’s life is good, that only good things happen to us, and instead we get… this? My parents, my brother, half the damn universe suffering without their loved ones for five years, my—” Wanda pauses for a moment, trying to blink away the tears that had sprung to her eyes. “…Vision? My… my children? Everything I did to… to… He decided that all those Hellish moments were the ones to be chosen?”
Strange suddenly lets out a quick and sharp chuckle, taking them all by surprise. “Guess that means that damn car crash was ‘destiny’ too, huh? I was always destined to…” Strange raises a hand in the air before dropping it slowly down, mimicking his vehicle as it tumbled down the cliff. 
“Listen, I’d love to join in on the pity party,” Sylvie snarks, and Loki has to force back a surprised snort. “But considering the fact that I’m not supposed to exist in the ‘sacred timeline and he—” Sylvie points to Loki without looking. “—Is supposed to be dead, whilst you’re both still alive and have apparently been deemed a-okay to exist whilst others haven’t been quite so lucky, it’s kind of hard to relate.”
Loki clears his throat awkwardly, fighting back another urge to laugh at how taken aback both Strange and Wanda looked. “Allies,” he murmured out of the corner of his mouth to Sylvie, reminding her of why they were here in the first place. 
Sylvie closed her eyes, letting some of the years — a thousand of them, to be precise — of pent-up anger and frustration simmer back down before she can direct any more of it towards anyone else. 
“Sorry, I’m just… I’m not a fan of the word ‘destiny’,” Sylvie tells him with a disgusted sneer. “Just because one asshole decided it’s what needed to happen — all to stop other versions of ‘Him’ from existing — doesn’t make it destiny.”
“Right…” Strange drawls, leaning further back into his chair after the little… ‘outburst.’ “Apologies, this is just… a lot to take in. I suppose in this line of work, I should always expect things like this, but—” Strange huffs. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the ‘Ancient One’ already knew all about this so-called TVA and its leader and elected not to tell me. Or… it’s some sort of lesson I’m supposed to learn, figure out by myself…”
“The… Ancient One?” Loki asks. 
“Sorcerer Supreme before me,” Strange answers, the corner of his lips curling sadly at the memory of her. “Whilst I’ve only been doing this for around a decade, she was doing this for centuries. So… I think you can imagine the kind of power and wealth of information she held.”
“Sounds like someone we could use in the coming fight,” Sylvie claims. 
“Sure. If she were still with us,” Strange replies lowly. “She was wounded, by a former student of hers. A student intent on having Earth swallowed whole by a very hungry being. She… succumbed to her injuries shortly after.”
“In this timeline,” Sylvie points out, getting a curious look from Strange. “There’s going to be countless other timelines out there where she died the same. Countless others where she died differently — something as trivial as… I don’t know, falling down the stairs—”
“I don’t think the Sorcerer Supreme would ever succumb to stairs—”
“Point being—” Sylvie continued firmly. “—If there are countless timelines out there where she’s dead… there are also countless ones where she’s still alive.”
“It can be rather difficult to wrap your head around,” Loki adds. “But… every day you live is filled with more choices than you’d think. And every single one of those choices where you choose something different leads to more choices, and more possibilities — breeding more timelines. Even the smallest moment, like…” Loki throws his hands up with a shake of his head. “Some random person on an entirely different continent deciding he’ll grab a blueberry muffin with his morning coffee can set off a chained reaction leading to, say, your former ‘Sorcerer Supreme’ being alive or not.”
“Butterfly effect…” Strange mumbles. 
“...Every choice?” Wanda asks, her voice surprisingly timid. “Are you saying that… that say in this timeline, I… I lost some people. Are there now timelines out there where… where I didn’t lose them?”
Despite Sylvie’s claims to be unable to pity these two, it would be difficult to say the look on her face was anything but pity. After all, she knew all too well what it was like to yearn for a timeline where your loved ones are still alive. “Yes. But… keep in mind, those versions of your loved ones could be different to the ones you know. And… a lot of them probably also have that timeline’s version of you with them, too.”
For a moment, Strange looked over to Wanda with something bordering on apprehension — a strange gut feeling he had deep down. 
“I need a moment,” Wanda says, voice wobbling as she turns to leave. 
“Wanda—” Strange tries to call her back.
“Just… a moment,” she just barely manages to get out before she’s disappearing into the other room, a hand held to her mouth as she hurries off. 
“You seem worried,” Sylvie notices. 
“I’m always worried.” The tiredness in Strange’s voice backs up his claim. He almost reminded Loki of ‘He Who Remains’, in a way. “Superheroes… have always been glamorized. The ‘Heroes of our world’. A sense of pride, being able to claim them as if they weren’t… beings with their own problems. The right person can do a lot of good with power. But, even when that person is good? Let’s just say grief can sometimes poison the mind. Cloud your judgment. And when you mix that with a lot of power? Sometimes… things happen out of their control.”
“She’s lost people,” Loki asks in a matter-of-fact way. He had heard the not too little list of names Wanda had rattled off before.
“She’s lost… everyone,” Strange glances over to where Wanda had disappeared to, a frown pulling down at the corner of his lips. “Lost her parents when she was young. Then, after years of having no one but her brother… she lost him too. There was a brief moment where she found family again in The Avengers, but… well, being forced to kill the one you love, only then having to watch as time is rewound to bring him back and kill him is… damaging.”
“Killed by who?” Loki asks. 
“Who do you think?” Strange shoots Loki his most dumbfounded look. “Vision… was not human. Not exactly. But he wasn’t exactly robotic either.”
“She’s in love with a robot?” Sylvie can’t help but exclaim in shock. 
“You’re in love with yourselves?” Strange counters, which quickly shuts her up. “And like I said — he’s not exactly a robot either. You see, Vision… wasn’t just in possession of an infinity stone; it was part of him. The mind stone. The same exact stone Wanda draws her power from.”
“From… from an infinity stone?” Loki splutters in disbelief. Now it didn’t seem too shocking that she had managed to infiltrate his mind… 
“Yes. And Thanos ripped it straight out of his head. After she came back from the blip—”
“From the what?” 
Even though Strange now knew that this Loki was from two-thousand and twelve, it still amazed him how little he knew about an event that shocked the universe down to its very core. “That’s what we called it when Thanos—” Strange snapped his fingers together. 
“Oh…” Loki could feel his blood run cold as he put two and two together. “Right…”
“You could only imagine what it was like for her. With the blip reversed, we could see families being reunited with loved ones they’d lost forever, but for her? Vision stayed dead. She came back, right at the same spot she had been snapped away at. For her, it probably felt like a second had passed, but she came back and Vision’s body was… gone. She had to get right back in the fight—”
“I didn’t do it because of what you think.”
All three of them look over to where Wanda had reappeared in the door frame, leaning her hand against it. “It wasn’t some sense of… what was right. I wasn’t thinking about how I needed to ‘go out there and save the universe, be like one of the heroes…’ I… I was only thinking about how much I wanted him to hurt. I wanted him to feel the pain I was feeling. I wanted that anger out of me, and the only way I knew how was by releasing it all into him.”
Once again, Strange got that weird gut feeling at her words. “Regardless of your reasoning for doing it, you still helped us tremendously. Fighting you… he was genuinely scared enough for his life to resort to firing on his own army.”
“It takes an awful lot to make Thanos feel threatened,” Loki says. “Believe me, I know all too well…”
“And now, by the sounds of it, we have a problem bigger than Thanos to deal with,” Strange says. “So, you two have come here to… what exactly? To warn us?”
“That,” Loki agrees. 
“And… to ask for your help,” Sylvie tacks on. “This is too big of a challenge for just two… two Loki’s.”
“And that’s quite the admittance by the way, given how much overconfidence we tend to extrude,” Loki says, getting an elbow in the ribs from Sylvie for that little tidbit of information. 
“From what Loki’s told me—” Sylvie carries on, casting a rather weary-looking side-glance at Loki as she speaks. “—you guys from this timeline — the sacred timeline — are our best bet. The ‘heroes’ that managed to defeat Thanos. What’s one more mad ruler to take down?”
Strange shifts his jaw slightly, taking in a deep breath as he thinks. “Have you considered that… perhaps fighting this man is not the best course of action?”
“Of course we have,” Sylvie answers with a frown. “But it’s the only option.”
“But it’s not, is it?” Strange stands from his chair, his tall stature meaning he was practically towering over Sylvie. Sylvie eyed him up, wondering if he had done it on purpose to try and intimidate her. She gets the feeling that’s the case when she more senses than see’s Loki shuffle closer to her the moment Strange stood up. 
“My job often involves looking at the bigger picture, past the here and now, into the realm of possibilities. And I can’t help but think… perhaps there was reason ‘He Who Remains’ did what he did?”
“Of course he had a damn reason,” Sylvie spits. “But it seems like this ‘Thanos’ had a reason for wiping out half the universe too — doesn’t exactly make it a valid reason to do what he did!”
“This is something we’ve been over before,” Loki back’s Sylvie up. The quick glance she gives him before looking away only goes to show that she was thinking back to that horrid fight just the same as he was. “It’s not the right path—”
“But it stopped a war, didn’t it?” Strange asks. “That’s what it was for: preventing a war that spread out across multiple universes. Not existing isn’t exactly the same as suffering as a war rages around you.”
“So you want to… go back to the way it was?” Wanda speaks up, an unhappy-looking frown creasing her forehead. “We now know that there are countless universes out there. I know now the reason why I heard…” Wanda stops herself. Her mouth swings shut for a moment, swallowing harshly before she continues, her voice softer than before. “I never thought I’d say this, but… I think I agree with Loki — the Loki’s — on this one. We don’t have the right to remove them from existence.”
“They didn’t exist before—”
“But they did,” Sylvie snaps. “They existed, and then He came in and fucked it all up. It’s because of Him that all this started, because this one man who discovered the rift between universes and decided he wanted control over all of it. The system worked, before him. These universes existed, then He wiped them away, and now they’re back again. And you want to be the one to destroy them again?” 
“Of course I don’t,” Strange uttered quietly. He looked rather small now despite his tall size with all three of these powerful beings opposing against him. “But if it comes down to a ‘multi-versal war’ compared to—”
“Compared to being sent to a land outside of existence to be hunted down by a creature intent on devouring you and wiping you from reality?” Sylvie finishes the sentence in a way Strange did not want to. “Both are bad; that’s why we’re here trying to stop it. That’s why we’re here asking for your help.”
“And if we lose?” Loki shrugs his shoulders. “’He Who Remains’ said himself he’d end up back where he was, erasing all the timelines until only the ones he approves of remains. Either we find a way to let the multiverse exist in peace… or we go back to the way you apparently prefer.”
“I don’t prefer it,” Strange corrected him with a cold glare. 
“Good.” Sylvie crossed her arms across her chest, fixing Strange with a challenging look. “Then help us.”
Strange looked between all three of them, letting Sylvie’s words hang in the air — and in his mind — as the seconds tick by. He finds his hand drifting up to his pendant, running his thumb along its top, thinking back to the powerful stone it once held; to the responsibilities he holds to the universe. 
And now… to every universe. 
Strange sighs, regretting this decision before he’s even made it. 
“What would you have me do?”
  * * *
 Despite their newfound alliance, Doctor Strange still felt a little uncomfortable handing over two incredibly powerful devices that were allegedly capable of allowing its user to jump through time and space over to… a Loki. 
Or… give back to a Loki, he supposed. 
“How exactly does that thing even work?” Strange asks, eyeing Loki as he slides the weird bracelet-looking one onto his hand whilst juggling the other TemPad. 
“Honestly? No clue,” Loki replies, in no way boosting Strange’s confidence in any of their plans. “Technology isn’t my strong suit.”
“You’re sure it’s entirely technology?” says Strange. “I find it hard to believe a way was found to trek around the multiverse without some sort of sorcery being involved.”
“Considering there’s no magic in the TVA? Seems like they found a way.” Sylvie takes the other TemPad from Loki before he inevitably drops it and breaks it. Wouldn’t exactly be the first time… 
“No magic? As in… none?” Wanda asks for clarification. 
“As in, even the infinity stones are useless in there.” Loki’s answer has Wanda’s brows raising in surprise. “The version of ‘Him’ who found a way to travel between universes was from the future — the thirtieth century to be specific — so… shouldn’t be too out of the question for there to have been enough of a leap in technological advances.”
“I suppose if Tony Stark was able to figure out time travel without magic in the twenty-first century, the idea of multiversal traversal a thousand years after is just as plausible,” Strange admits. 
“Do you know of any way to jump between universes?” Loki asks. “Such as, like with your—” Loki moves a pointed finger in a circle, attempting to mimic the portals Strange had cast for them to fall through. 
“No,” Strange replies. “Doesn’t mean it’s not possible, however. Nearly every subject I’ve read or heard about regarding the multiverse is specifically instructing us not to mess with it. Messing with time in one reality is bad enough, but now that I’m doing it across multiple realities? Yeah, I’m not sure how easy it’s going to be…”
Loki glances over to Sylvie, raising an eyebrow in questioning. As if she was reading his mind, her eyes drop down to the spare TemPad they had, then back to him. The muscles in her face tense up at the unspoken suggestion Loki was making. She sighs in defeat at his continued look, clearly asking for her permission. Even if what Loki was asking for was the right thing to do —and she knew deep down that it probably was — she knew full well that Loki would never press her on it if she didn’t agree. 
She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Good for her maybe… not so good for… everyone else… 
Loki must sense the moment she gives in, for the sides of his mouth tick up by just the slightest, enough for her to have to fight back her own smile. “Here—” she turns to Strange, holding out the TemPad for him to take — much to his surprise. “If you’re going to be of any help to us… you’ll need this. Just… try to be liberal with your usage, okay? That thing runs out of charge quicker than you might think; last thing you want is to be stranded in an unknown universe with no way back…”
Strange takes the TemPad carefully, his eyes darting between it and the two Loki’s. “I assume you know how to charge it?”
“A tremendous amount of power tends to do it,” Sylvie quips. 
“You might want to try giving it to your friend Stark, if he’s not too busy doing… whatever it is that he does,” Loki suggests. “I mean, you did just say he figured out time travel, didn’t you?”
Any semblance of a joking smile forming on Loki’s face is quickly wiped away at the uncomfortable tension that settled over them like a stifling blanket. Strange almost seems to flinch at the sound of Stark’s name, something akin to guilt crossing his face. Wanda on the other hand had gone frozen, apart from her eyes that had quickly dropped to the ground. 
“What? What is it?” Loki asked, baffled by the sudden change. 
“Tony Stark is dead.”
It takes Loki a moment for the words to register in his mind. Even when they do, he has to assume he had misheard. Tony Stark — Iron Man — was dead in the sacred timeline? The man who helped lead the Avengers in defending their home against him — a God wielding an infinity stone? The man who flew a nuclear-powered weapon into space, and came back alive? That Tony Stark? 
“The victory over Thanos wasn’t without its sacrifices,” Strange murmurs. “Tony’s… was one I foresaw; the one out of fourteen million other outcomes that results in our victory.”
“So you knew he was going to die?” Sylvie asks. 
“I did,” Strange admits. “I wish it could have gone any other way… but it was the only way. Only one scenario where we win… and we had to lose one of our greatest defenders to do so. “
Strange’s words were nothing more than background noise amongst Loki’s whirling thoughts, having to face his own unsettling lack of knowledge on the outcome of the battle against Thanos. He knew that he perished before the battle had even really begun… He knew that the Avengers resorted to Time Travel as a way to defeat Thanos… and he knew that, in the end, Thanos was defeated. And that was all he really knew. He did not know of the losses, apart from himself — which all led to one very important question that his mind was practically screaming at him. 
If Tony Stark didn’t make it… what of Thor? 
Was his brother even alive on the sacred timeline?
Strange’s words slowly came back into focus. “—doesn’t work that way. If I had told him or warned him--”
“Who else did you lose?”
Strange’s words taper off at Loki’s interruption, not expecting the question. It doesn’t take long for Strange to put together the real question Loki was trying to ask. His face softens in pity, enough for Loki's heart rate to increase tenfold. 
“You already know of… Vision.” Strange cast a quick glance to Wanda, as if expecting some type of outburst merely from the mention of his name. When Wanda does nothing but stares blankly at nothing, Strange carries on. “Steve Rodgers is… no longer in the picture, so to speak, and Natasha Romanoff gave up her life to ensure our victory.”
“And what of…?”
“Thor survived the fight.”
Loki couldn’t hold back the heavy exhale he made in relief, closing his eyes with a soft sigh as the panic that had threatened to overwhelm him slowly dissipated from his system. 
“He… did not cope well during the blip,” Strange continued. “He put a lot of blame on himself.”
“What for?” Sylvie asks the same question Loki had, but one he was unable to ask after finding himself nearly incapable of speech from the fear. 
“He fought Thanos twice… and lost,” Strange explains. “He felt he had a chance to stop Thanos, and he didn’t. Thanos’s initial attack occurred shortly after what he called ‘Ragnarok.’ He had lost his father, his best friend, his home, most of his people… put that on top of being thrown straight back into battle and losing… and then, after all that, he had to grieve you, too.”
Loki startled in surprise at that last part. “He… grieved for me?”
“Of course he would grieve for you!” Sylvie insisted, sounding baffled as to how Loki could think he wouldn’t. “You’re his brother—”
“His brother who stabbed him, and threatened the woman he loves.”
“You’re still family,” Sylvie countered. “Besides, we don’t know everything that happened to you and your brother between the Battle and… Thanos. You may have reconciled, you may have… well, considering how much this version of you has changed between then and now, the other you could have changed considerably over -- what would it have been, six years?”
“Well yes, but—”
“You could always go see him, you know.”
Both Loki and Sylvie looked over to Strange after his suggestion, with Strange looking back at them like that was an idea he thought they would have already thought of at the very least. “As I said, Thor still isn’t in the best of places right now. I’m sure having his brother back — or at least knows you’re still here, even if it’s not his Loki — would help with his recovery. Which is… something I would never say about a Loki, yet here we are…”
Loki mulls over the idea for a moment. There was no way for him to deny that a part of him was yearning to see his brother again. Even when, yes, as Strange had said, it wasn’t his Thor. But… it also was. Pretty much the same timelines, just with the slight added change of…
Not having his neck snapped…
“Do you know where he is?” Loki asks. 
Strange smiles knowingly at him. “It’s kind of my job to know where powerful beings are. After everything, Thor had joined up with… I… well, they call themselves ‘The Guardians Of The Galaxy.’”
Loki raised a single eyebrow at the name. “And I assume they… guard the galaxy? Wait -- which Galaxy? There are a few. I assume this one?”
“Mmm… no.” Strange shook his head. “Definitely not this one.”
“Suppose it’s a good thing we have a device that lets us effortlessly travel between whichever galaxy we choose,” Sylvie pointed out. 
“Except… you don’t need to travel to another galaxy,” said Strange. “You don’t even have to leave this planet.”
“Thor’s here?” Wanda asked, sounding about as surprised to hear the location of Thor’s whereabouts as Loki felt. “After the funeral, he… he was gone rather quick. Didn’t say a thing about when he would be back… or if he would be back.”
“Well, where exactly here is he?”
“New Asgard,” Strange answered, only just slightly enjoying the little double-take both Loki and Sylvie gave at the name.
“New…?”
“Little village located in Norway,” Strange continued. “Formerly known as Tønsberg, but, well… you fill a city up with Asgardians… it becomes the New Asgard.”
“Right…” Loki rapidly blinks down at the floor for a few moments whilst his brain boots back to life. “And… what exactly is my brother doing flying around space with some ‘Guardians’ whilst he’s meant to be ruling over… New Asgard…?”
Strange opened his mouth to answer, but Wanda beat him to it. “That’s really something you should hear from him, don’t you think?” Wanda had held up a hand to actually stop Strange before he could speak, who looked rather disgruntled by the ‘shushing’ motion. “We’re all dealing with the after-effects of the war in different ways.”
“A New Asgard…” Loki mumbled softly. “When I read the files on Ragnarok, I… it had said there were no survivors, so I thought… I thought our people were gone. Wiped out from existence.”
“Not so much,” Strange said with an uncharacteristically kind smile directed towards a Loki of all beings. “Of course, it won’t be the Asgard you remember, and your people have had to adapt to vastly different circumstances here on Earth, but… better than no Asgard at all, isn’t it?”
“I can attest to that…” Sylvie grumbled, something dark flashing across her face at the reminder of what had happened to her home. 
“I…” Loki trailed off, turning his attention from Strange to Sylvie. She frowned at the questioning and somewhat torn look in his eyes, one of the rare occurrences in which she couldn’t tell what he was trying to ask from looks alone. “Shouldn’t we be focusing our efforts on… ‘Him?’ We both know that, even with these devices that allow us to jump between time… we’re still on the clock. It might not be long until—”
“Loki,” Sylvie cut off his sentence, the gentle call of his name quickly bringing him to a stumbling stop. “Do you want to see your brother?” 
Loki’s mouth swung shut, an odd squeezing type of pain wreaking havoc with his heart. Sylvie knew what the answer to that was without even having to ask it. It was more… she needed him to say it, but not for herself, but so he can hear himself say it. 
“Yes. Yes, I… I need to see him. I need to know he’s okay.”
“Then the question of whether we should is already answered,” Sylvie said with a shrug and a subtle, soft smile. “I’m not going to deprive you of the opportunity to see your family again. I already got my chance; it’s your turn for the same luxury.”
“I would offer to provide you a portal taking you to him, but… I’m guessing that thing on your hand can do it anyway?” Strange asked, nodding his head towards the TemPad in Loki’s possession. 
“Oh, um…” Loki glanced down, raising the TemPad up closer to his face. “Yes, it should--”
A sudden burst of orange light appearing in the doorway of the room grabbed all their attention. For a brief moment, Loki had assumed he had touched something on the TemPad and managed to accidentally open a Time-Door. But no, his hand had been nowhere near the surface of it and, as far as he was aware, it wasn’t capable of just… reading his mind and opening Time-Door’s based on their whims and wishes. 
“You didn’t just happen to use the TemPad we gave you, did you?” Loki asked, getting a confused and equally worried look from Strange. 
“No? I assumed you just did that?” Strange gestured over to the forming Time-Door. “Did you not do that?”
“No.” Something in Loki’s voice seemed to give away just how much potential danger they were in. It was like a flip went off in Strange’s head, switching over to this eerily calm and sharply focused battle mode. It only took a few gestures and swiped with his hands, trailed by a display of glowing symbols, and then Loki felt the heavy weight of his dagger in his hand. 
Loki looked over to Sylvie, her sword now back in her hands, her eyes showing the same level of uncertainty he knew his must be displaying right about now. Strange and Wanda both had all their attention focused towards the Time-Door, Strange with his glowing symbols and Wanda wielding what appeared to be balls of reddish energy, ready to direct it towards whoever came through. 
The first well-polished shoe stepped through the portal, situated just below a pair of familiar-looking brown office pants. Loki’s gaze flickered up to the figure’s face, and—
“Wait!”
Sylvie had yelled out the command where his shocked mind could not. He was just thankful that Strange and Wanda actually listened to her, holding back on their attacks as the figure fully came through the door. 
Loki forced his numbed hands to keep hold of his dagger, just for caution's sake. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, both him and the figure staring back at each other with the same expressions: a mutual wariness and distrust of what they were seeing, and yet, behind it all… Hope. 
Could it be…?
“...Mobius?”
Next Chapter - - - >
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writingfromkitchenator · 4 years ago
Text
Home Is Where The Heart Is
Christmas fic
Masterlist
Requested by @moonfaery
Loki x Neutral Reader
Words: 1,736
Warnings: Mentions of hunting, animal death (not explicit), secret plan, friends to lovers, fluff, vague suggestion of Viking era
“I still don’t get why we have to come all this way,” You grumbled as you and Loki step out of the bifrost.  “Surely this is something we can grow at home?”
Loki sighed, pulling his cloak around him as the snow began to settle on his shoulders.  “Apparently not, and it seems, after the disaster we caused last year, we’re the volunteers to go and get it.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” You said, brushing snow from yourself.  “And it was hardly our fault that Thor got stuck in the middle.”
He smirks.  “Well, it’s not your fault.”
Rolling your eyes, you lead the way through the snow.  “Come on, the less time we spend here the better.”
“Worried about running into the natives?”  Loki asked with a chuckle.  “Don’t worry Y/N, I’ll protect you.”
You glanced back at him. “They think you’re a god Loki, that’s hardly something to take amusement from.”
“You’re just jealous,” He said, stepping into time with you.  “That I get some recognition and you don’t.”
“Don’t push your luck,” You said, glaring at him.  “I’m not in the mood.  Let’s just get this stupid plant and get home.  I don’t want to spend Yule out here in the cold.”
Loki chuckles, but the two of you continue in silence, trudging through the increasing swirl of snow that seemed to be getting heavier by the moment.  You were silently fuming, both at being stuck out here and being stuck with him, and this just amused him.
The sound of talking made you both pause, looking over towards the edge of the forest, and despite yourself, you snuck over, Loki following, and you found yourself looking over a small village.
“Looks like they’re preparing for a hunt,” Loki said.  “Guess we’re going to have to be extra careful.  I don’t really feel like getting shot or stabbed today.”
“You mean more than any other day?”  You said, raising an eyebrow at him.  “They’ll be preparing to celebrate like us, even more reason to make this quick, so we don’t interrupt them.”
You move away, Loki watching after you.  “We could always visit?”
“No thank you,” You said. “I want to get home Loki, and who knows how they’ll react seeing two strangers around their village.”
“Once they know who I am-”
“No.”
He sighed and followed after you.  “I’m sure Asgard can wait for mistletoe.  We can take this opportunity to-”
“I said no, Loki.” You said.  “I just want to get this done.”
Loki watched you go, a little irritated, but as you began to disappear amongst the trees, he hurried to catch up.
A little while later, as the snow began to fall heavier, you finally found what you were looking for.
You shivered, arms wrapping around yourself.  “Right, let’s get it and go home.”
“Off you go,” Loki said, nodding to it.  “You were eager to get home, so you can do it.”
“Oh no, that’s your job,” You huffed.  “Besides, my hands are damned frozen.  I couldn’t get them even if I tried.”
He sighed and rolled his eyes.  “Honestly, do you ever want to get your hands dirty?”
You glared after him as he pulled out a knife and started cutting sprigs of mistletoe.  “Says the one that often makes me the fall person, whether I’m involved or not.”
Loki chuckled, holding a large handful now.  “It’s not like you don’t bring it on yourself.  How long have we been friends now?”
“Like that’s an excuse,” You huffed.  “Now, let’s go.  Heimdall?”
You were both greeted by silence, there was no response to your call to be collected.
“Heimdall?”  Loki asked this time, looking to the sky, expecting some sort of response.  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
A silence fell between you as you both held your breath for a moment.
“They are not leaving us here.”  You said. “They can’t.”
Loki sighed.  “I should’ve known that there was more to it. I should’ve known in just the way Thor said it.”
You looked at him.  “What did he say?”
“There’s hardly a point in repeating it,” Loki said.  “It doesn’t change the fact that we are currently stuck here.”
“Oh, it matters,” You growled.  “It matters so I know how much to kick his arse later.”
Loki chuckled.  “Come on Y/N, we might as well make the best of it and find somewhere to stay before the storm gets worse.”
Your eyes narrowed on him. “You’re awfully calm about all this.”
He shrugged.  “What’s the point in worrying about it?  There is little we can do until they open the bifrost again.”
You sighed after a moment. “Do you have any suggestions?”
“There’s the village.”
“Do you really think that that is the best idea?”
“We’ll bring an offering. It’ll be fine.”
You rolled your eyes. “Do you even know how to hunt?”
He smirked.  “That’s your job.”
You made a disgusted noise and quickly trudged off into the trees, leaving Loki on his own.  He smiled for a moment before it slipped from his lips and he sighed and shook his head.
“This is a terrible plan.”
The snow was building into a storm when you returned, the sunlight beginning to disappear, a large deer thrown across your shoulders.
“You’re doing the talking,” You growled.  “And if you dare make a comment about getting my hands dirty, then I’ll leave you out in this storm.”
Loki chuckled.  “Come on.”
The village was starting to prepare themselves for the oncoming storm, the hunters having returned early and seemingly empty handed.  There was a moment of tension as you and Loki approached, Loki stepping forward and quickly explaining that the two of you were temporarily stranded and needed a place to rest, the food was a peace offering.
More words were said, and you were weary as you watched hands rest on swords, but finally one of the hunters came forward and took the deer from you, and another leads the two of you away to one of the houses.
As you were guided in, shown where several things were and the best way to keep the fire going, you and Loki were left alone.
You frowned at him.  “They don’t recognise you?”
Loki chuckled.  “I hardly wish to interrupt their celebrations by making myself known, and I figured that it was going to be a lot easier for us if we seemed like we were just from another village.  It does actually pay to be able to create illusions.”
“Right,” You sighed as you looked around.  “How long is the storm going to last?”
He shrugged.  “Who can say, but we at least have somewhere comfortable to stay.”
You sit on the edge of the fur lined bed, looking at the fire.  “Right.”
Loki watched you for a long moment, deciding what to do, before he grinned and broke off one of the sprigs of mistletoe.  “We could always make this more interesting.”
“Loki,” You said quietly, looking at him a little tiredly.  “This is hardly the time to be joking.  If we’re here too long, we’ll miss our celebrations.”
He shrugged.  “Then we celebrate together.  Would that be such a bad thing?”
You opened your mouth but then thought better of it, shaking your head.
A silence hangs for a moment before he sits next to you on the bed.  “What is wrong Y/N?  You know you can be honest with me, we’ve always had that together.”
“I…” You sighed.  “I don’t like being away from home, even since…ever since that last battle, being away has made me…uncomfortable.  I feel like being sent out here is a much more severe punishment than it should be.  I don’t even know why it’s happened, I’ve never been like this before, but it’s just…something…”
Loki observed you for a long moment before his hand slowly rested on yours.  “That was not my intention.”
You frowned at him.  “Your intention?”
He nodded slowly, giving a sheepish smile.  “I, or should I say Thor, determined that the only way this was going to happen, was to leave us two out here, and, well, I didn’t disagree.”
“What was going to happen?” You asked.  ��Come on Loki, as you’ve said, we’ve always been honest with each other.”
Loki drew in a deep breath. “Truth be told Y/N, our friendship has felt like more than that for me lately, and I…I made an idiot of myself in front of Thor, which is how he found out.  I like you Y/N, and I…I just wanted you to know that.”
You stared at him for a long moment before dragging your gaze away.  “Loki…”
“I know,” He said.  “I didn’t want our friendship to change, which is why I never said anything.  I’m sorry I dragged you out here like this.”
“I’m not,” You said.  “Otherwise I might never have known that you returned my feelings.”
His mouth opened and then closed quickly, before he frowned at you.  “Really?”
You chuckled.  “I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.  Like you, I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, although I’m rather glad we can move past that now.”
“I’m sure Asgard won’t,” Loki grinned.  “As we’ll be even more inseparable.”
“They’ll get used to it,” You said, smiling, entwining your fingers with his.  “If this is what you want of course.”
Loki gives your hand a squeeze.  “It is.”
“Well, I’m glad that’s out of the way.” You nudge his shoulder.  “But I suppose we’re still stuck here?”
He laughed and nodded. “Unfortunately, I don’t think it would look to well on the people here to suddenly disappear on them.  Besides, I’d like to think that we can celebrate Yule much better on our own.”
You smiled, shaking your heading.  “You are something else Loki.”
“I try.”  He then shifted slightly and held his free hand over your heads.
Looking up, you laughed. “You idiot, you don’t need that to kiss me.”
“No,” He said lightly. “But it does make it more fun.”
You continued to laugh, even as Loki threw the mistletoe aside before his full attention was back on you.  Through giggles, the two of you kissed, slowly easing into something more, something that had remained unspoken between the two of you for so long.
For the first time since you’d arrived in Midgard, you didn’t want to go back.  Loki was home.
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yet-another-fan-girl9 · 5 years ago
Text
Luck of the Devil
Summary: You can be lucky when you ask for it, but misfortune is always right behind it.
Warnings: hypothermia, near drowning, near death experience 
Word Count: ~2250
A/N: This my second submission for @the–sad–hatter​ ‘s Birthday Tea Party! Happy Birthday Kara ❤️!
Loki Fic Here
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The darkness of the hallway was sporadically broken by the flickering of the overhead lights. You crept alone through the darkness with your gun gripped tightly in your hand. Distant footsteps reached your ears. Safety off, finger ready on the trigger, you waited around the corner. Due to the echo, you couldn’t estimate the number of people you would have to face.
You turned the corner with your gun raised. Six armed soldiers raised their own guns and didn’t hesitate shooting. You darted back around the corner and took a breath.
The soldiers followed you around the corner and you opened fire in return. All of your bullets hit its mark and you smiled when the soldiers collapsed. You liked to think you were good with a gun. You had definitely improved in the few months you were with the Avengers. You were especially thankful that you didn’t have to rely on your powers all the time.
You skipped over the bodies and pressed your finger to the device in your ear to speak to the team.
“Where is everybody?” you chirped and followed the twisting hallways back outside.
“Outside,” Sam’s voice replied accompanied by the background sounds of a fight.
“I’m on my way.”
You burst out of the building, the icy air filled your lungs. The sky was grey and small flakes fell to the lightly dusted ground.
You surveyed the situation before you. The flying Avengers were taking care of the cannons and snipers on the roof. Unfortunately, the cannons were firing back with explosive beams of light. On the ground, everybody was steering clear of the pond in the middle of the clearing. The snipers kept their attention on the grounded superheroes who were fighting the seemingly constant flow of soldiers coming from the woods.
The soldiers were blocking your way to the jet.
You stepped forward to meet a soldier running at you. You ducked under his gun when he fired and punched him in the gut. He doubled over and you pushed him face first to the ground. You kicked him in the head, effectively knocking him out.
“Nice of you to finally show up,” Natasha teased and with a swish of her red hair, she took out three soldiers.
“Show off,” you teased back. “It’s not like you guys left me inside.”
Nat gave you another grin before running away to find more opponents. You ran the other way, taking out soldiers until you noticed someone creeping up behind Bucky while he was distracted. Could you get to him first? Probably not on foot.
I would be lucky to get to Bucky before the soldier does.
Suddenly it felt like your insides were being turned inside out but the sensation was over quickly and you found yourself falling in between Bucky and the soldier. You landed awkwardly on your ankle.
There was always a negative outcome whenever you used your powers. Something about taking the lucky and unlucky parts of each moment. One moment you’re lucky and the next, you have bad luck.
You shot down the soldier before wincing at the pain in your ankle that was beginning to throb. Bucky knocked down the men he was fighting and turned to look at you.
“Hey, are you okay?” His blue eyes were even more striking in the muted landscape.
“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” you forced a laugh through the pain.
Bucky was your best friend, even though you knew Steve was his, and you didn’t want to worry him. Sometimes, honestly more often than naught, you found yourself wishing you could be more than friends. You were very careful, though, when you thought about him. You didn’t always have a grip on your powers and relationships you make with them always have a tragic end.
Bucky’s eyes landed on the soldier you had shot. He said something, you think it may have been a ‘thanks’ but the wind had begun to pick up, blocking out any other sounds. The snow also fell heavier and it was up to your shins already.
It kept getting colder, but the flow of soldiers began to slow. The constant motion of fighting kept your core warm, but your perspiration froze quickly. Your exposed fingers, gripping the cold metal of guns, were numb. Your shoes were basically soaked, buried in the snow. At least you couldn’t feel the throbbing of your ankle anymore. Your nose was runny and raw. You couldn’t hear anything except for the howling of the wind. Not even with your comm which you feared you’d lost. The snow battering your face grew sharper by the minute until you were sure it was sleet.
It reminded you of when you were younger and your mother read The Snow Queen to you. The white bees were swarming and now they were stinging.
An explosion forced you out of your thoughts and threw you backwards into the dense snow which did little to cushion your fall. You caught your breath as your body heat melted the snow beneath you. The melted snow seeped into your clothes and into your bones. It didn’t take long for you to begin shivering.
A man suddenly appeared and towered over you. He raised a long knife and prepared to plunge it into your chest.
You had sunk too far into the snow which meant you couldn’t roll away. You wouldn’t risk using your luck because you didn’t want it to backfire on any of your friends. All you could do was catch the man’s arm before the knife pierced your skin.
He was much stronger than you, especially with the cold seeping your strength. You couldn’t see another option.
I would be lucky to get out of this situation.
The two of you suddenly switched positions and now you had the knife. Without hesitation, you pushed it down into his chest. When he finally stilled, you stood up only to feel a sharp pain blossom in your shoulder. You looked around for the threat, but with the snow and smoke from the explosion, you could hardly see three feet in front of you. Nobody could shoot in conditions like this. The bullet hole in your shoulder must have been your unlucky consequence.
Now that you were still, your sweat had frozen. Your teeth were chattering uncontrollably but you could only feel the vibrations of your teeth meeting. No sound could conquer the roaring wind. You put your hand over your wound, numb fingers stinging when they made contact with your warm, sticky blood. You tried to breathe, but it felt like the icy air froze your lungs. It almost hurt. You were shaking. You couldn’t stop shaking. Where was everyone? Where was Bucky?
Then everything stilled. The wind disappeared and the snow calmed all in a matter of seconds. Everyone was closer than you had thought. Bucky was standing just six feet in front of you. Steve was about four feet from him.
“There was some guy in the forest manipulating the weather,” Tony announced, flying over the trees. “We’ll come around and help everyone out.” He and Wanda were the only ones not stuck in deep snow.
The snow halfway up your thighs. Blood from your shoulder dotted the snow red. The man you had stabbed was already buried. You could finally hear your chattering. You could only imagine how you looked. Pallid and practically vibrating.
“Are you okay?” Bucky asked you.
You tried nodding, but you were too stiff.
“Y-yeah, I’mmok-kay.”
Bucky wasn’t shaking at all. Of course, the supersoldier serum kept him warm. Even Nat and Clint didn’t look as bad as you. You would bet that Tony was nice and toasty in that fancy Iron Man suit of his.
Then a light caught your eye and the next few seconds played out in slow motion.
One of the cannons was still operational and it had fired a beam towards Bucky. You didn’t even think about the consequences.
I would be lucky if Bucky didn’t get hurt.
A foot away from Bucky, the beam suddenly changed directions as if it ricocheted off of something. It hit the ground right by your feet and the resounding explosion sent you flying into the frozen lake.
You crashed through the layer of ice and the freezing water enveloped you. On instinct you gasped for air but you only ended up sucking in the icy water. It was so cold it felt like you were burning.
You needed to go up. You needed to move.
“‘Are you still cold?’ she asked, and kissed him on the forehead,” your mother paused to plant a kiss on your own forehead.
You made a face and pushed her away. A fire crackled nearby and your mother laughed before continuing.
“Ugh! it was colder than ice, and struck straight to his heart—which itself was almost a lump of ice. He felt as if he was dying, but only for a moment: then all was right, he didn't notice the cold about him any more.”
You pressed yourself to her side. One blanket over your laps another over your shoulders. You never wanted to leave.
There was a light. You couldn’t open your eyes, the light was blinding. Someone was saying your name. A familiar voice. You wanted to reach out, but you couldn’t move. You could picture beautiful blue eyes. Soft chestnut brown hair. He was telling you to stay with him. Where would you go? You couldn’t move.
The warm cider soothed your throat.
“Once more the Snow Queen kissed Kay, and he had forgotten little Gerda and grandmother and everyone at home.
“‘No more kisses now,’ said she, ‘or I should kiss you to death.’”
You squirmed in your seat.
“What’s wrong, baby?”
“Is Kay gonna die?”
“You know this story, honey.”
“What if the ending changed?”
Your mother laughed. “The story will end the same way it always does.”
You slowly opened your eyes and blinked away the sleep. You looked around as much as you could. Fluorescent lights, white and beige decor, and the constant beeping of the machine that was monitoring your heartbeat. A man sat in a chair nearby, his attention fully on his book.
“Hi, Sam,” you whispered.
He jumped up and a wide smile spread across his face.
“You’re awake!”
“Yep.”
“Of course you wake up when I’m here.” He shook his head and handed you a cup of water.
“Um… none taken?” You took a small sip.
“Nothing against you,” Sam sighed. “It’s just that this whole time Bucky has been in that chair and the first time we convince him to take care of himself, you wake up.”
“Bucky was here the whole time?” You couldn’t help the smile that appeared.
“Maybe you could just pretend to go back to sleep and wake up when he returns?”
“You’re awake!” Bucky appeared at the door. He turned his gaze to Sam. “Why did you make me leave?”
“I think I’ll be on my way.” Sam grabbed his book and left the room, closing the door behind him.
Bucky pulled the chair closer to your bed and sat down.
“Hi, Bucky.” You tried to move up into a sitting position, but you were stopped by an ache in your shoulder. “I forgot I was shot,” you groaned.
“You were a lot more than just shot.” He crossed his arms. “You had severe hypothermia, some frostbite, a sprained ankle, a lot of bruising, and more that I probably forgot to mention.”
“How long was I unconscious?”
“About a week.” You raised your eyebrows. “You were in and out a few times.”
“And you were with me the whole week?”
“Yeah, I was worried.” He looked down at his hands and rubbed them together, sunlight glinting off of the metal. “Why did you make the beam hit you?”
“I didn’t really have a choice.” You shrugged with one shoulder. “There has to be a negative consequence.”
“Did you have to get hurt? Why didn’t you just direct the beam at the forest?” Bucky’s blue eyes met yours.
“I wasn’t thinking about me. I just didn’t want you to be injured.” You fiddled with the beige blanket covering your legs.
“Thanks, but you really had me worried at times.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m not going anywhere for awhile.”
Bucky took your hand in his right one. He rubbed his thumb over your knuckles.
“When I was waiting for you to wake up, I had some time to think.” He looked at you and you nodded at him to go on. “I was afraid that I would never get to tell you that I want us to be more than friends.” You opened your mouth to speak but he kept talking. “I’m sorry that this is the first thing I’m saying to you right after you woke up, but I knew that if I waited, I would’ve chickened out. I really like you. As more than friends.”
“And I like you, Bucky. As more than friends.” You smiled. “I really like you.”
Bucky smiled the smile you adored, leaned forward, and kissed you.
It was better than you could ever imagine.
❄️
And Gerda kissed his cheeks and they became rosy; she kissed his eyes and they shone like hers; she kissed his hands and feet and he was well and sound.
There they both sat, grown up and yet children, children at heart; and it was summer, warm delightful summer.
~The Snow Queen by Hans Christian Anderson
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