#thor x black oc

[nobitchs-world]

Me after explaining the multiverse of different people and characters where I have different ocs in my head to my sisters

[cece693]

Hothead

pairing: steve rogers x male reader tags: reader is an avenger, weird relationship dynamics, people think you're bad news, Steve sees the opposite, proving people wrong, hurt Steve, but reader tends to him and comforts him

You stride into the briefing room with a chip on your shoulder, ready to butt heads with whoever decides to question your methods today. Tony throws you a quick glance, eyebrows raised in contempt—or maybe curiosity. Clint, seated backward on a chair, eyes you warily. Natasha merely tightens her jaw and shifts in her seat. Bruce goes quiet, trying not to ruffle your feathers. And Thor, well, he’s half-amused but uncertain. After all, you’re not exactly known for your subtlety.

In truth, you don’t blame them for looking. By now, the Avengers had time to know you: you’re the hotheaded guy who’d rather slug first and ask questions later. The one who’ll bark at a helpless agent for misfiling paperwork or curse at an enemy mid-battle with no shame. No one can figure it out—why in the world did Steve Rogers, the ultimate golden boy, choose you of all people?

He’s not here yet, so you stand alone in your corner, arms crossed, lips set in a firm line. Fury’s voice drones on about mission updates and tactical readiness, but you hardly listen. You’ve already memorized the mission parameters on the flight here. You’re scanning the room for threats, evaluating every inch. To the untrained eye, you’re on edge, maybe just itching for a confrontation. The team sees the tension brimming beneath your stance.

It’s only when you feel a steady hand come to rest lightly on your arm that you uncross your arms. Steve appears beside you, the warmth of his palm pressing through the fabric of your uniform. He doesn’t say a word—doesn’t have to. Your glare softens. If anyone notices, they pretend not to. But you’ve learned how to be subtle for him.

You’re both exhausted when you touch down after the mission, battered and bruised. You had insisted on being the decoy, drawing enemy fire, because you handle force better than most. You’d never share this, but you did it so Steve wouldn’t have to. He’s strong—beyond strong—but you’ve never shaken your protective streak.

The rest of the team fans out. Everyone’s too drained to talk, but the confusion is still there. More than one pair of eyes lingers on you as you carefully loop Steve’s arm around your shoulder, guiding him to sit on a bench in the hangar. The second he’s down, your hands are on his face, tilting it up gently to assess the bruise blossoming along his cheekbone. “Stevie,” you murmur, the syllables so low that the others almost miss them, “Does it hurt too bad?”

He gives you a small smile. “I’m alright. Just need some ice.”

Your brow furrows. Gone is your scowl from earlier—no arrogance, no fists clenched, nothing of the raging storm you usually are. Instead, there’s only concern, your thumb brushing the bruise with trembling care. The hush that falls over the rest of the Avengers is deafening. “Stay put,” you say quietly, your voice gruff. “Don’t move.”

He nods, trusting you. You stalk away to grab an ice pack, ignoring everyone else. When you return, you kneel in front of Steve, pressing the cool compress to his cheek. Your free hand drifts to the back of his neck, softly coaxing him closer, checking for other injuries. “You’re such a brat,” Steve teases under his breath, but there’s unmissable fondness in his tone.

"You like that about me,” you quip. And the corners of his lips curve into a warmer smile.

Steve gently pats your hand where it’s wrapped around the ice pack. “Thanks for looking out for me.”

You don’t respond at first. You just nod, focusing on the cut above his eyebrow that’s starting to bleed. You rummage through a makeshift first-aid kit, dabbing at his wound with a gauze pad. The lines between your brows deepen every time he flinches. Finally, you speak, low enough that the words are almost lost: “I’m always here, Rogers.”

The rest of the team stands by, silent observers to your quiet exchange. Every so often, Tony exchanges looks with Clint or Bruce. No one expected you, the loudmouth with fists perpetually clenched, to be so gentle. The sweet murmur of “Stevie” just doesn’t match the image they have of you threatening an enemy on the battlefield mere hours ago.

When you finish, you wipe your hands on your pant leg and place a careful, feather-light kiss on Steve’s knuckles. You do it unthinkingly—he’s still trembling a bit, adrenaline coursing through his body. In that soft touch, the Avengers finally see it. They realize you may wear rough edges on the outside, but it’s purely the armor you put up to keep those you care about safe.

Steve, with a smile lighting his face, reaches up and cups your cheek. “Thanks,” he says again, and in that moment, the rest of the team witnesses a warmth in your eyes they never imagined was there.

“Take it easy, Cap,” you say. Your voice drops so no one else can hear, but your words catch the edges of Tony’s hearing regardless. “I love you, you know that?”

Steve’s eyes sparkle, and he presses his forehead gently against yours, relieved. “I know,” he murmurs back, “and I love you too.”

At a respectful distance, Natasha and Clint exchange glances. Bruce glances at Tony, who just offers a slight shrug. The legendary Captain America had fallen for a man with grit and fire, a man so different from him that it left them all baffled. Yet here you are, devoted and steady, unafraid to bare that tenderness when it counts.

Tony can’t help but grin a little. Leaning over to Clint, he mutters, “Well, guess there’s more to him than a bad attitude and a mean right hook.”

Clint only shrugs. “Steve sees it, and that’s enough.” And it is. Because in the end, for Steve Rogers, you’ll always be the one who keeps him safe, wipes his wounds clean, and whispers the gentlest words in the quiet aftermath of chaos—and no one can deny how right that looks on you.

[notapradagurl7]

Stuck.

Black Fem! Reader x Thor

Summary: Due to a monster on almost k*lling you at work, Thor saved you and you ended up stuck on Asgard with him. You were just a mere mortal trying to find a way back to Earth but you had to adjust to Thor’s world first.

word count: 2,761k

Taglist: @mermaidchansons @megamindsecretlair @ramblingthoughtsofayoungadult @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @uzumaki-rebellion @wakandas-vibranium @mama-2001 @hearteyes-for-killmonger @emmawatsoff @episodes-ff @sweettea-and-honeybutter @siqueth @simplyzeeka @earthchica @kumkaniudaku @blowmymbackout @rawflwrs @ghostfacekill-monger @ovohanna24 @kaylaahisthebestest- @blackmissfrizzle @beenathembo @yassbishimvintage @henneseyhoe

A/N: I was deeply anxious about writing this because it has been quite some time since I last watched the Marvel movies. However, as a fan, I am determined to step out of my comfort zone with my writing. This fic is quite self-indulgent.😭

Thank you to soft-p for giving me with encouragement. Your words were like a reassuring pat on the back and a wake-up call.

P.S. Don't forget to reblog, like and comment to support your favorite writers. Enjoy! ❤️

Warnings: angst, friends-to-lovers trope, violence, reader almost gets k*lld by a monster, a worried reader, oral(fem receiving) praise, dirty talk, Thor being a big softie, doesn’t follow the canon of the movies, love confession, straight up filth.

———————

It was a regular Monday afternoon at your job as a barista in a black-owned coffee shop, the smell of coffee beans and cinnamon buns wafted through the air. You've grown tired of the smell, it was like a bug you couldn't shake off.

You weren't a fan of coffee as others were, you prefer bottled water, apple juice, hell even orange juice. Others might want orange juice over apple.

Your chocolate brown collared tee shirt had an aromatic smell of spilled coffee double espresso and cream, your khakis pooled around your thick legs. Your cap on your head, Not to mention the coffee stains on your shoes, You neatly tied your freshly done box braids in a ponytail. Your brown skin.

You greeted customers with a fake smile and the regular ‘Have a nice day’ saying to them as they left money in the tip jar, drinking coffee on their way out, the chime of the bell rang in your ears.

Another day, another dollar you said in the back of your mind.

To be honest, you have grown tired of the same routine of your normal everyday life.

Wake up, go to work, head home, go to sleep repeat. Maybe you needed some spice or excitement in your life, maybe you were overthinking things.

The television in the upper right corner of the spacious room played the news showing a clip of Thor defeating a purple monster that resembled a demon, you wondered if the beast escaped from Hades to take Thor with him.

You and Thor crossed paths at the park, engaging in chats about your interests and personal experiences. Both of you spent quality time together, frequenting diners, the park, and even your own home. As your friendship began to develop, it grew steadily and became quite strong.

You thought his life seemed cooler than yours, except for his father, Odin, praised him more highly than his brother Loki, the mischievous god. The conflict between the two brothers seemed intense. Thor and Loki lost both of their parents but as time passed they were able to get along.

You empathized with his brother as he sought validation from his parents and tried to make them happy, as it reminded you of your own past.

You were certain that Loki wouldn't want any empathy or pity from a mere mortal like you, he was somewhere in his realm thinking of world domination.

While his mother seemed to be a gentle woman, his sister Hela came dangerously close to taking out his eye during the fight. That must have hurt. Like really bad.

Sheesh, what a family he had.

You grinned and sang softly to Thor, amazed by his unwavering bravery and extraordinary combat skills. Wow, he was also incredibly attractive with a stylish haircut.

You wondered if Thor would take your application or resume for a assistant? You used to dream of being a superhero when you were a kid, having superpowers and saving the day.

Did superheroes ever pay back for the damages to cars and buildings, personal items when in every battle?

Kenya tapped your shoulder while you clocked out of your morning shift, your head turned toward her with concern, "Are you okay?"

You nodded at her, “Yeah, i’m fine, just a little tired.” you said softly, taking off your apron.

Once you walked out of the coffee shop and dusted yourself off, you looked both ways of the street before a tentacle quickly slithered around your waist, your eyes widened in shock as you were randomly pulled toward the demon, its red crimson eyes bore into your soul as its tentacle gradually moved you up and down in its tight clutch.

Thor’s narrowed at the towering purple demon holding you hostage, its tentacle brought you close to its face. “L-let me go…” you whispered, you flinched and the quiet sniffling from you broke Thor’s heart.

“Unhand her! I shall send you back to Hades where you belong and where you will stay for eternity!” Thor roared, holding his axe close, lighting bouncing off of him.

“Isn't this the feeble mortal you yearn for? Your heart desires for a connection? Aren't mere mortals and gods told to stay in their place? Such a radiant soul belongs in Hades..”The demon taunted, its deep voice sending shivers down your spine.

“You only spew lies from your wretched tongue, prepare to perish like the others..” Thor spat, swinging his axe in his hand.

You clenched your fists, trying to muster up the courage to fight back, but you were no match for the monster's strength.

What did the demon mean by that? He yearns for?

Thor threw his axe at the repulsive creature, and the axe severed the demon's arms, making it stagger backward as its arms were released. Bringing you to great heights in the air, Thor cautiously crouched down and soared towards you.

Thor finished off the beast with every punch, its desperate cries begged for mercy. Thor’s thunder zapped the demon and sent him back to Hades.

Your eyes closed shut with your arms frantically moving around your body, plummeting to your death. The wind gushing against your face with your tears falling from your eyelids. The bustling wind and light blue sky witnessing

Was this how you said goodbye to your friends, your family, your life? It couldn't be.

You suddenly stop falling when you are caught in the bridal style by Thor, your hands resting on his chiseled forearms.

The ground seemed miles away, but you felt oddly calm knowing that Thor was there to protect you. His blue eyes met yours with concern and relief, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Your box braids pooled in front of your face with your eyes fixed on Thor, “Are you alright Y/N?”he asked gently, his finger gently moving the braid from your face.

“Uh…Yeah, I'm okay. Thank you Thor for saving me..” You said softly, nodding at him while giving him a small smile.

"No harm shall come to you as long as I'm here. I won't let anything happen to you." He reassured, his words tugged at your heartstrings.

Didn't your whole life flash before your eyes?

You hopped from the heroic arms of Thor and waved goodbye to him, your eyes almost welled up in tears as you sniffed them away.

Thor lifted his axe up to the blue sky and thunder came down on the two of you, it didn't shock you or hurt you. But it was tingling over you, teleporting you to another world. It was strange.

Your eyes opened wide to the birds chirping and the towering building painted in soothing macaroon cream color with gold designs engraved in them, from the towering mountains of greenery to the people dressed in white loose robes.

Oh shit, were you really in Asgard? The New Asgard right?

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but before you could respond, a towering man was behind Thor. It was Heimdall, the guardian of the Bifröst.

"Thor, we are thankful to have you back to Asgard," Heimdall said softly, his voice echoing through the air.

Heimdall’s fiery eyes locked with your deep brown ones, his grey locs pulled back in a low ponytail and his dark brown skin caught your attention. He was so handsome.

“Oh? You brought a mortal to Asgard your Highness?” He asked him, titling his head to the side.

“She is my friend and I accidentally brought her here..”

Heimdall nodded, “Well, surely it wasn't a mistake. It must want her here for a reason..”

Your eyes gazed upon the gods and goddesses roaming through the roads, the women were as tall as the Amazons in Themyscira, with their gold brass armor and white flowy togas. It was different here.

You bet that the women in his home would throw themselves, he was a god after all. Did Zeus’s women who sat by his throne faint at the sight of Thor?

“Thor, can I get extra clothes and take a shower?” You asked him, pursuing your lips.

“Oh! Um..i could ask Majesty for some extra clothes and I can shower where the shower is in my castle.” Thor mentioned, nodding with a nervous chuckle.

Majesty teleported to your location in the elegant castle, giving you a warm smile and greeting Thor. “Greeting Thor..” she said softly.

A goddess by the name of Majesty with her dark brown skin, her brown locs pulled back by a purple headscarf, swaying side by side, her loose toga hugged around her thick body. Her amethyst-purple eyes bore into your soul, reading you like a book.

She was so beautiful, you've never seen a goddess that looked like you in the paintings by old white dudes from years and years ago, in the books, and in the movies. It felt nice to see it up close.

“Hello there Y/N, here are some clothes for you." Majesty spoke kindly, taking the clothes from behind her back.

She handed you a small bundle of clothes, her voice soothing and comforting. "Feel free to freshen up and make yourself at home."

You thanked her gratefully, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. As you make your way towards the shower, you feel a mix of emotions. On the other hand, you couldn't shake off the feeling of being completely out of your element.

After a quick shower, you changed into the clothes that Majesty had provided. The purple loose robe was comfortable and stylish, fitting around you perfectly. As you walked back into the main room, you found Thor waiting for you with a warm smile.

"You look beautiful," he complimented, his eyes sparkling with admiration. "The clothes suit you well."

Your cheeks grew hot at his words with a flutter of excitement in your chest. Being stuck on Asgard might not be so bad after all, especially if it meant spending more time with Thor.

"So, what now?" you asked, trying to hide the nervousness in your voice. "How do I get back to Earth?"

Thor's smile faltered slightly as he scratched the back of his head. "Well, that's the thing... I'm not entirely sure. The Bifröst is not under my control, and it seems to have brought you here for a reason."

You groaned inwardly, feeling a mix of frustration and anxiety wash over you. "Great, so I'm stuck here with no way back?"

Thor's expression softened as he reached out to hold your hand. "I promise you, Y/N, I will do everything in my power to help you find a way back home."

His words brought a small smile to your face, and you couldn't help but feel comfort in his presence.

“I know you will, I trust you..”

The night arrived rather quickly in Asgard with the moonlight slanting through the huge window, your eyelids gradually opened to the spacious room. You couldn't sleep, great. The silence was rather annoying than peaceful.

Was Thor still up? You stood up from your side of the bed and strode out of the bedroom, you maneuvered your way through the wide hallways and stopped in front of his towering door in brown wood with intricate cravings, you rapped your knuckles against it.

“Come in..”

You gently nudged the door open with your head leaning in the room, “Thor? Are you still awake?”

You stepped inside the spacious room and looked for him, pondering if this was a good idea.

“Yes, I am. Don't worry..”

Thor stood before the balcony with his eyes fixed on the full moon and the ink-black sky painted with sparkly stars, his arms resting on the railing. It was centuries since he had been home, he missed his mother, his father, and his brother.

Thor felt alone but when he met you, he didn't feel so alone anymore. But it felt like anytime something happened he would lose everyone. He didn't want to lose you either.

“You're my friend Thor, I get that you're a god of thunder but I'm still gonna worry about you..” You said softly, walking toward him with a light chuckle.

Thor turned his attention toward you with his hands resting on your shoulders, “I worry about you more than you ever know…”

“I appreciate that but I can take care of myself..”

“I didn't intend to put you in danger.”

“Don't blame yourself for what occurred, things like that happen a lot when you're fighting crime or demons right?” You added, smiling a bit.

Thor lightly chuckled with a smile, he wondered how you were calm through it. You were almost hurt by a monster but you didn't die. You were stuck on Asgard for a while but you were with Thor.

There was always a silver lining to something your aunt would say, you couldn't wallow in self-pity so keep living for yourself.

“I have fallen in love with you..” Thor confessed, his eyes locked with yours.

Maybe the demon was right about one thing, his feelings for you. Those feelings were real.

Your eyes widen a bit, you can't believe what you are hearing, “I feel the same way about you too..” you admitted, your hands resting on his chest.

You always felt this way about him but you wanted to wait until the time was right to tell him.

Thor crashed his lips into yours with you reciprocating the same action, his hands moved toward your thighs as he picked you up by your thighs, your legs wrapping around his waist, your steamy make-out resumed, your moans muffled on his lips.

He laid you down on your back on the plush bed, he took off his clothes and kissed your plump lips again.

Thor flipped you on your back with his hands gently tucking your robes from your body, the wind brushed against your skin causing your nipple to go erect, his large hands squeezed your breasts, “oh..Thor..” you moaned softly.

His thick fingers gently slid between your wet folds and you gasped softly, your hips against his face movement, “Oh yes! Thor!” you screamed again, your head falling back on the pillow, your essence oozing on his tongue.

His tongue licked a wet stripe between your folds with his mouth latching around your throbbing clit, your hands gripped his blond hair tight. Waves of pleasure washed over you, his hooded eyes locked with yours.

Was this a way of worshiping Thor? Blessing him with your presence as he lapped your essence, Thor's hands roamed your body, biting and kissing every curve and crevice, as his lips trailed down your neck, littering your dark brown skin with hickeys, “You taste so good..” he groaned, kissing your lips again.

Your climax rippled through you like a tidal wave, your essence oozing into his mouth, you screamed out loudly as your legs shook in his hands, “oh fuck!” you screamed, you panted lowly.

The two of you lay side by side with your eyes locked on him, you stood up from your side of the bed gathering your clothes.

“You're mine now..” You told him, pecking his lips as you headed off toward the shower.

This day was more than perfect, maybe your life wasn't so dull after all. You were dating a god that loved you and only you.

—————

[lovemomhatepolice]

mcu masterlist

navigation taglist requests

bucky barnes

steve rogers

tony stark

loki laufeyson

thor odinson

black widow

A/N: please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

I apologize in advance to everyone for so much expansion in the masterlists, but it will be so much easier for me and you to catch up, once I get it all to the state I want - I promise

[goddess-mixmi]

King Killmonger and his Queen Tempest🖤✨

As mentioned before Imani had been in small relationships with Erik Stevens before she realized Bucky had feelings for her. Both Erik and Imani had quite a lot of similarities, dead parents, being seen as outsiders despite being Wakandan, and wanting to give aid to people who look like them that can’t protect themselves. Imani didn’t think she was capable of love until she met him, he made her fell less alone.

Erik himself had a bit of a idolizing crush on her when she was first seen as Tempest and now he had a chance to be with him despite her trying to kill him at first for defeating T’Challa. Now she definitely could’ve held her own against him if her superpowers weren’t being restricted and he could’ve felt with her but he didn’t. He wanted her and she wanted him so he decided he’d marry her once everything was set in place. Imani almost got through to him about his motives being quite intense and promised to help the country that raised her and more when she becomes queen but it all went downhill in the end. And before he died he said he truly liked her, even left her with two kids of her own ( and depression too😭)

[worksxofxmyxmind]

Steve Rogers is the werewolf Bucky Barnes is the orc Thor is the dragon. And Loki is the werewolf.

Now reread them with this in mind for each

Monster bfs and their reaction to you getting hurt by little inconsequential things that you react to in pain at first but then they wildly overexaggerate.

Werewolf bf would hear you whimper and come running to find you. He sees you have a splinter and he’s whining and whimpering at the irritated skin on your finger. With his claws he carefully gets it out of you before licking it and nuzzling into your palm. Before you can even argue he’s saying you’re too hurt to do anything else today and brings you into the bed for cuddles.

Vampire bf smells you before he hears you cry out in pain. In a flash he’s by your side, eyes wild as he looks over you. When he sees the small cut on your leg his heart lurches, even when you say it looks worse than it is. He falls to his knees before you, his mind a cloud of worry and hunger. He laps at your cut, slowly licking the wound to reveal it in its entirety. Despite the way his veins hum with the taste of your blood his love for you is more pressing and so he runs to grab your frequently used roll of gauze and patches you up.

Dragon bf has loved having you in his cave and among his hoard. You’re his most treasured possession after all so there is no where else that you belong except by his side. But when you stumble and slide down a mountain of gold, hitting your head on an old crown, your bf cares no longer for any of his treasures besides you. Despite your protests he moves all of his treasure to the back of the cave before filling the rest of it with the fluffiest pillows and the softest blankets. Making sure that if you ever fall again it will only be met with comfort.

Orc bf who always displayed his weapon collection with pride. But he comes rushing over as soon as he hears you yelp, only to discover you ended up pricking yourself on the sharp spikes of one of his clubs. You try to assure him that you’re fine and it just surprised you. But when you come home the next day you see them nowhere to be found. Ready to give your bf a firm talking to, he directs your gaze upwards where he’s displayed his weapons much higher up now to not risk you getting hurt. He stubbornly refuses to move them back down when you talk to him and there’s no way you can reach or even carry them to put them back. Your orc bf explains that it’s worth them being harder to see so long as you’re safe.

God, there are so many more I could do but I didn’t want to make this too long.

[ellswritings]

It’s the same OC as the love interest, she just dates them at different times. It starts with Iron Man 2 and I haven’t decided when to end it. Lmk if you guys wanna see it 🫶🫶

[awritessomething]

I have absolutely no ideas for writing whatsoever pleaseplease leave requests!!! Smut, angst, fluff, whatever y’all want I can probably do.

Ill write for these people and probably more that I forgot (all male character x fem!reader) :

Formula 1:

Max Verstappen

Oscar Piastri

Charles Leclerc

Lewis Hamilton

Carlos Sainz

Daniel Riccardo

Mick Schumacher

Franco Colapinto

Liam Lawson

Ollie Bearman

Criminal Minds

Spencer Reid

Aaron Hotchner

Derek Morgan

Marvel:

Bucky Barnes

Tony Stark

Thor

Deadpool

Steve Rogers

Spiderman (Tom Holland, Andrew Garfield, Miguel O'hara)

Harry Osborn (James Franco)

Wolverine (X-Men movies)

Cyclops (X-Men movies)

Charles Xavier (James McAvoy)

Call of Duty

Keegan Russ

Simon "Ghost" Riley

König

Phillip Graves

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Star Wars:

Anakin Skywalker

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Kylo Ren

Luke Skywalker

Han Solo

Outer Banks: (pls no spoilers s4 hasnt been watched yet)

JJ Maybank

Rafe Cameron

Topper Thornton

John B. Routledge

Ward Cameron

Harry Potter:

Harry Potter

Cedric Diggory

Draco malfoy

Ron Weasley

Fred Weasley

Blaise Zabini

Regulus Black

Severus Snape

Tom Riddle

Sirius Black

Lorenzo Berkshire

Oliver Wood

The Walking Dead:

Glenn Rhee

Daryl Dixon

Rick Grimes

Carl Grimes

Negan Smith

Sports:

Joao Felix

Jude Bellingham

Brock Purdy

Joe Burrow

Leon Draisaitl

Jack Hughes

Vince Dunn

Mitch Marner

Connor Bedard

Wayne Gretzky (young)

Miscallaneous:

Jack Champion (Ethan Landry)

Patrick Bateman

Batman (Christian Bale)

Johnathan Crane

Finnick Odair

Josh Hutcherson (Peeta Mellark, Mike Schmidt, Sean Anderson, Clapton Davis)

Rodrick Heffley

Tristan Dugray

Dylan O'brien

Bellamy Blake

Patrick Dempsey (Derek Shepherd, Ronald Miller)

Joe Goldberg

Timothee Chalamet (Wonka, Paul Atreides)

Minho (The Maze Runner)

Keanu Reeves (John Wick, Neo, Alex Wyler, Dr. Beckham, Julian Mercer, Ted Logan)

Jim Halpert

Farkas/Vilkas

Ulfric Stormcloak

Miraak

Ben Schnetzer (Max Vandenburg, Brad Land, Russ Sheppard)

Ralph Macchio (Daniel Larusso, Johnny Cade)

Dallas Winston

Sodapop Curtis

Robby Keene

Zuko (atla dallas liu)

Jet (atla sebastian amoruso)

Cillian Murphy (Johnathan crane, jackson rippner, Neil Lewis)

Evan Peters (all ahs characters, Luke cooper)

James Franco (Laird Mayhew, Harry Osborn, all characters)

What I wont do:

Pedophilia

Beastiality or anything animal-y

Waterworks

Male reader (sorry)

Character x character

Threesomes or anything not 1x1

Character x oc

Specific body types (i just don’t see the point)

Daddy/mommy kinks

Incest or stepcest

(I’ll prob have to add on but its midnight rn)

[thesugarclubs-blog]

You're All I've Ever Wanted - Bucky Barnes x OC

warnings: roommates to lovers, sweet fluff

word count: 4.9k

WP: https://www.wattpad.com/1519194678-you're-all-i've-ever-wanted-julia

vibe: Bucky looked at her for a moment before he said, "So you think Thor is massively hot?" He grimaced as if he was offended by her statement, which caused a giggle to slip from her lips.

"Are you jealous of Thor?" She chuckled softly but when he stayed silent for a moment her eyes flickered to him. 

"Absolutely not," he huffed, taking a sip of his hot chocolate. "I'm just saying ‘massively hot’ is quite the statement to make." He shrugged trying to play off the disturbed look on his face.

Julia shoved her way out of the glass doors of the restaurant and stormed away down the street, her chest heaving with humiliation and no small amount of anger. Finding an alley, she slipped into the entrance to it, just so Dean wouldn’t see her—if he’d even bothered to chase after her—and pulled out her phone. Tapping on the number that was always at the top of her recent calls list, she held the phone to her ear.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up…” she whispered her plea, closing her eyes in relief when the call connected and the familiar deep voice rumbled in her ear.

“Hey, Jules…?” His voice raised in a question and she swallowed before answering.

“Bucky? Could-could you pick me up? Please?”

"Whoa slow down," He said from the other end, "where are you?"

Julia stopped, looking around for the street signs and sighed in frustration. "Near that little deli where you puked in the alley after eating-"

"I know where," he chuckled and the line went dead.

She shoved her phone back into her purse, still pacing back and forth between the stone buildings on her adrenaline alone. It was a wonder anyone found love in the modern century when men couldn't be bothered to even remember her name on a first date. "I don't even look like a Michelle," Jules grumbled and tried to calm down. 

She fiddled with the buttons of her coat while she waited for Bucky to arrive. Taking the phone out of her purse, she went on socials to check if Dean had posted something. Luckily he hadn’t. She was kinda glad this date went to shit because Dean was an A-class prick.

This night had been one she had actually been looking forward to. From the text messages between the two, they had actually gotten along. He even believed her when she went on a rant about how many different species of creatures could be out in the universe and they'd never know. 

But of course, in true dating fashion, this is where it ended up. Her calling her roommate from the restaurant she was stranded at, just because some guy couldn't bother to keep his dates for the day straight. 

Julia let out a long breath that she hadn't realized she was holding, closing her eyes and letting the cool breeze from the passing cars wash over her. She always got hot when she was angry and that always seemed to make everything worse somehow.

She stepped back into the shadows when she saw the restaurant door open and Knobhead exit. He was on his phone, head back as he laughed, probably retelling the disastrous date to one of his presumably dickhead mates.

Luckily he walked the opposite way, but that meant she could see his retreating figure as she scanned the traffic for Bucky.

It wasn’t much longer before she heard the familiar sound of a motorcycle and her heart leapt. The sleek black machine pulled up at the side of the road and she watched as he dismounted, stretching one long, denim-clad leg over the seat. He was before her in just a couple of strides and he pulled his helmet from his head, raking his hand through his dark hair and looking down on her with concern. 

“Here, Jules. Put this on.” He handed her the helmet. “We can talk at home. I got you.”

Julia slipped the helmet over her head to hide her shame and anger before she climbed on behind Bucky wrapping her hands around him under his jacket. Bucky pulled them away from the curb without another word and instantly the rumble of the bike below her calmed her nerves. It had that effect, the vibrations that rattled up through her body were like a balm to her anger and frustration. 

She just wanted someone to spend her nights with, to come home to after work... She squeezed Bucky a little tighter as he took a corner toward their apartment. All Julia really wanted was someone to listen to her and be there for her. Before long the apartment came into view and the two of them parked the bike and started the climb to their floor. 

Bucky pushed open the door and chucked the keys to the bike in the bowl by the door. Wordlessly, she took off the helmet and set it on the table in the entrance hall, haphazardly running a hand through her hair. Bucky stayed silent while she was taking off her coat and shoes. 

He just watched her, his brows furrowed like he was trying to solve a math equation in his head. 

“Are you okay?” Were the first words out of his mouth, breaking the heavy but comforting silence between them. 

“Yeah.” She answered less than convincingly because before she knew it he wrapped his strong arms around her frame and just held her.

“Go get changed,” he murmured into her hair, squeezing her a little tighter before letting go and holding her by her shoulders. “You want tea, hot chocolate or something stronger?” 

Julia chuckled, peering up at him. Bucky was big and burly but fuck was he the softest man she’d ever known. He smiled back down at her all crinkly eyes and dimpled chin as he waited for her to answer. 

“Hot chocolate, with a dash of something stronger,” she replied, and Bucky nodded, pressed a rough kiss to her head and pushed her gently in the direction of their bedrooms. 

“Grab me a pair of your fluffy socks while you’re in there.” Sauntering off towards her room, Julia started replaying the events of her night in her head. Clothes were still thrown over her bed from when she stressed about what to wear. Her eyeshadow palette sat open with the brush laying in the delicate blue color that Bucky always told her brought out the gold in her chocolate colored eyes. All this fuss and mess for a night she should have known was going to end up this way. 

The sage green fleece sweater she slipped into felt soft against her hot skin as she pulled on her favorite pair of black leggings. Twisting her curls around themselves into a pile on top of her head, she beelined for the kitchen with more purpose than she intended. 

"Do I look like a Michelle?" She asked, the frustration in her voice coming through with a rasp.

Bucky turned around from where he was preparing their hot chocolates on the stove, confusion written all over his face as he looked her over once. 

"Who's Michelle?" Bucky asked.

"I don't know. Does it matter? Do I look like one or not?" Julia asked in a slightly panicked voice. She didn't want to look like a Michelle, but the fact Bucky didn't deny it right away made her doubt herself. 

"You don't look like a Michelle, Jules."

“You paused.” She said with a soft frown etching her face. 

Bucky let out a warm chuckle that seemed to settle in her chest. A sound she loved because it meant he was smiling. “I paused because you barged in here asking if you looked like a non-existent woman.” He glanced back over his shoulder, still stirring the hot chocolate. “You look like you, Jules.” 

Her chest fluttered and ached all at the same time as settled into a stool on the other side of their island. “Thank you.” She murmured before burying her face into her hands with a groan.

"I imagine Michelle has a face like a bulldog chewing a wasp and a shirt three sizes too small which leaves nothing to the imagination," Bucky overemphasised a shudder and smirked at her. "You are definitely nothing like Michelle." Turning to her, a mug in each hand. "Do you want to sit here or take it over to the couch?"

“Couch,” Julia muttered with a faux-pout, which she used to disguise the twitching of her lips as she tried not to grin at Bucky’s description.

Bucky nodded his head towards the couch, his smirk growing warmer as he followed her, waiting until she’d curled herself up in one corner before taking a seat in the middle. He was close, but not uncomfortably so—not that Julia ever felt the slightest bit uncomfortable around him, which was one of the reasons that she’d agreed to rent a room in his apartment in the first place. That and the adorable bundle of white fur that occupied the easy chair across the room.

He handed her one of the mugs of hot chocolate and she wrapped her hands around it, taking in the warmth and the rich aroma before having a sip. 

“Damn, Buck, that tastes like heaven.”

“I’m glad you like it. I used the peppermint schnapps we had and a little kahlua.”

“Whatever you did, I love it,” Julia replied before she took another sip, feeling the drink warm her from the inside out. 

“Okay,” Bucky sighed after a few moments of silence. “Tell me what happened.”

"It started okay," Julia took another sip. "And then before I knew it he was glazed over, ranting about some manhood podcast that taught him about self worth and the power of man. When I tried to interject he said, and I quote, 'listen Michelle, I don't know who raised you but where I come from we don't interrupt people when they're talking'" Julia looked up from her cup to see an amused smile on Bucky's face. "Nothing about any of that was funny, Buck."

"I mean it's a little funny,"  Bucky's smile grew, "I warned you to stop finding dates on that thing, they're all robots."

"Right, information flows in and out," Julia mocked his voice. "I just thought he would be different..."

“You seem to attract a lot fucking shitheads. I’m sorry.” Bucky said sympathetically.

“What are you apologising for? It’s not your fault that most of the single male population thinks they are all alpha and all that.” 

“Most of them haven’t even left their mom’s basement.” Julia laughed weakly.

“They can fuckin’ stay there,” Bucky muttered, huffing out a soft laugh. He shifted on the couch, sitting so his back was against the arm rest before wiggling his toes against Julia’s thigh.

“What are you doing?” 

“You forgot my socks.” 

“You run hot like a space heater, I didn’t think you actually wanted some,” she giggled, lips curved around the rim of her mug as she took another sip of hot chocolate and reluctantly let Bucky tuck his feet under her leg. 

“Much better.” Bucky grinned behind his own drink, blue eyes soft as he studied her. “So, what now? Hey, maybe I could set you up—“ 

“Oh, God,” Julia spluttered, “please don’t.”

“I’m just saying, Thor’s a good guy and he could use some love in his life,” her roommate shrugged, dodging the small stuffed bear that got tossed at him. “Hey! We agreed Mr. Snuffles wouldn’t get treated like that. Alpine will curse your bloodline if you hurt her bear.” 

A soft meow came from the chair, as Julia was met with the piercing blue eyes of the apartment kitten, who hissed gently in warning. 

“Sorry, sweet girl,” She apologized and chuckled. “Look, I like Thor and he’s super sweet and massively hot, but I don’t know, I don’t know if I could deal with him taking off into the realms all the time and leaving me here, y’know?” Sighing deeply into her mug, she let the warm liquid soothe her. “I want someone to be here when I get home from work, or to listen to me vent after a bad day and doesn’t question anything, just makes my favourite drink and just, genuinely cares about me,” Julia smiled softly and nudged her arm into Bucky’s legs playfully, “someone like you.”

She always knew what she wanted in life. She never wanted a career or to go partying every night. She never wanted to go on different dates every weekend just to be disappointed over and over again when it turned out all they ever did was talk shit she wasn't even the slightest bit interested in. All she ever wanted since she was a kid was to be loved. She wanted the love people had in movies. She wanted someone who cared about her. And even though she knew Bucky would never be the person she would end up at the altar with, she still longed for someone like him; for someone to care the way he did. 

Bucky looked at her for a moment before he said, "So you think Thor is massively hot?" He grimaced as if he was offended by her statement, which caused a giggle to slip from her lips.

"Are you jealous of Thor?" She chuckled softly but when he stayed silent for a moment her eyes flickered to him. 

"Absolutely not," he huffed, taking a sip of his hot chocolate. "I'm just saying ‘massively hot’ is quite the statement to make." He shrugged trying to play off the disturbed look on his face. 

Julia let out another laugh shaking her head. "Sounds like jealousy to me." She teased only to laugh harder when he shot her a glare.

Bucky rolled his eyes but took a long drink from his mug. Then he sat it aside on the end table before watching her calm down from her fit of giggles. “You wanna play dirty, huh?”

In a flash, Bucky quickly grabbed her mug with one hand and sat it on the opposite table and had Julie pinned to the couch as he straddled her and tickled her ribs. 

"Mercy!" Julia laughed and Bucky's tickling ceased but he didn't move. The air around them softened as their gazes locked and Julia fought to keep her cheeks from blushing pink. "Mercy," she whispered lightly that time, "I've suffered enough tonight," she added. 

"Say, 'Bucky you're way cuter than Thor' and I'll let you go," he kept her pinned to the couch, his grip on her sides light and tender. "Come on," he coaxed, his bottom lip jutting out. 

"Bucky..." Julia started, "you are way more bullheaded than Thor!" She finished, squealing as she pressed against his chest and shoved him backward on the couch playfully.

“That’s not what I told you to say.” Bucky said, his chuckle echoed through the room and for a moment they just looked at each other and in it all of their surroundings became distant. It was always just them. He was her comfort, her home and he didn’t even know how much that meant to her.

Alpine chose that moment to put in her two cents, letting out a loud yowl from her perch across the room. Moment gone, if it even was a moment. 

Julia cleared her throat, reaching for her mug again as Bucky clambered from the couch and scooped the white fluff ball up in his left hand before flopping back down beside her, distance between them again. 

“What about you, Buck?” 

“What about me, Jules?” His gaze slid her way, eyebrows furrowed as he slid his hand over Alpine’s back, the cat purring like a motorboat on his lap. 

“No dates recently? You were seeing that girl from the coffee shop for a little while, right?” 

Bucky grimaced and made himself comfortable again, toes back under Julia’s thigh. She tried to hide the little quirk of her lips but from the look Bucky gave her she knew he’d caught it. 

“We didn’t really click in the end,” he confessed with a shrug, “not the end of the world though.”

Her eyebrow quirked and she let out a breath through her nose, “that’s what you said about the animal shelter girl too, is there anyone you do click with, grumpy Gus?” Julia teased, gently hitting her hand against his shin. 

Shaking his head, Bucky picked up Mr. Snuffles and started moving the arms in a small punching motion toward Julia, “Just Alpine,” he smirked, “and I guess you’re okay too”

"Well, thanks," She rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the grin plastering her face. "I guess that's just the second worst thing someone told me today." 

"You're welcome, Michelle. What was the first?" Bucky teased as he continued playing with Mr. Snuffles, trying to recreate some yoga poses on the stuffed teddy bear. "Look, he's doing the Warrior II! He's so good at this." 

Julia glared at him before slowly shaking her head, "Why?"

"You know, sometimes Mr. Snuffles walks by when you're doing your exercises in the morning. He just picked it up." Bucky shrugged as he continued forming the arms and legs of the bear.

"You watch me do yoga?" She raised a brow sipping on her mug. 

"Nooo, Mr. Snuffles watches you. I try to drown out that weird music you play." He grinned, focusing on the bear for a moment before setting it on the table. 

"Please don't try and convince me this bear has its own autonomy, you know I have a fear of dolls." She frowned. "Besides, it's not weird music, it's supposed to re-align--" 

"Your chakakira or whatever, I know." He groaned only making her laugh. 

"Chakra." She corrected nudging his thigh with her foot. "You know you should join me. It might help stretch out some of that tension, grump."

“Is that because your hips don’t lie?” He asked, feigning innocence.

“That’s Shakira, Buck not…” Julia looked at him with a raised brow. “You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?” She accused.

“Awe Juuuuules,” he cooed cheekily, although his face flushed just a little beneath the scruff of his beard. “Mr. Snuffles and I would never make fun of your downward-facing dog…”

“Hey! You shouldn’t even be watching me,” she countered. “If you can’t keep your eyes off of me, that’s your issue.” Julie watched his eyes widen and his cheeks quickly turned to a shade of pink.

“No, seriously, you should join me instead of cracking jokes.” Julia urged him. 

“So you don’t think I’m funny?” He placed his hand over his chest, like he was wounded. 

“Get over here, you grumpy bear. Please.” A pleading look on her face and his features softened. Without her knowing, Julia had Bucky wrapped around her little finger.

“Jules,” Bucky sighed, running a hand over his face. “Take the cat.” 

Julia looked at him, puzzled. 

“Take… the cat?” 

Bucky nodded, holding Alpine out like baby Simba. 

“I’m about to get serious, you’re gonna want the cat.” 

“You’re an idiot,” Julia chuckled but welcomed Alpine into her lap anyway as Bucky leaned forward, mismatched arms wrapped around his legs, and rested his head against the back of the couch. His gaze turned increasingly tender, lips curled at the corner and Julia’s skin flushed warm under his gentle scrutiny. 

“What?” 

“You know how fuckin’ special you are?” 

“Bucky…” she rolled her eyes, incredulous.

“Sweetheart— no listen. I’m tryin’ to be serious.”

His Adams Apple bobbed in his throat as she watched him think over his next words. The careful preparation crossed his features, and his tongue flicked over his bottom lip. 

“Julia,” he breathed, “You are one of the most intelligent, funny, kindest people I know. You care more about helping other people than you do about yourself, which worries me sometimes by the way,” 

“Bucky…” Julia repeated, trying to breathe and calm her quickening heartbeat.

"I know I'm biased," Bucky continued, "you're awesome, and having you around has changed tons of my old man perspectives. I mean, you have made making me a modern guy one of your missions, and you don't accept any thanks and don't expect anything in return. You are the best person to be around, you give so freely, your time, your help, you're all heart."

"You're a bright guy, Bucky, you'd have figured it out."  Julia managed to squeeze out, her airway feeling tighter as his words hit.

Bucky chuckled softly, threading his hand through his hair. "I sometimes can't see what is right in front of me, Jules. And it's taken me a while..."

Julia felt her heart thud in her chest and she knew that Bucky’s damn super-soldier hearing would have caught the hitch in her breath at his words. 

There was a pause, weighed heavy with a myriad of things that both of them tried so desperately to ignore and yet they spun exorably towards collision. 

“A while for what, Bucky…?” She breathed

Bucky licked his lips, his blue eyes piercing hers. “You. It’s always been you.”

“But…”

“Uh uh, don’t you do that,” he quickly countered. “Jules… I wait every day to see you when you come home from work. I want to know about your day. I want to know everything about you.”

"That's what friends do Buck," Julia blurted, just trying to make sense of her racing heart and mind. That's what friends do? Really? She cursed herself for the stupid response when Bucky pulled back a touch. "I didn't..."

"You're my best friend, Jules and that counts for something," he argued gently, like he was terrified to scare her away. "It counts for everything," he changed his mind. "I don't wanna see you flirt with Thor or go on any more dates,  I want to date you on those dates, I want to make you laugh and smile." 

"Oh," I said as my cheeks flushed. "Oh."

“Yeah.” Bucky smiled softly at the way her expression changed once realization hit her. He wanted to date her. “Say something, Jules.” Bucky extended his hand and softly brushed a tendril out of her face. 

“Why?” She asked. 

“Why what?” He responded, his brows knitting together slightly and the skin between his eyebrows scrunched up. 

“Why didn’t you say anything? Why did you let me go on all these dates with those men when it’s me you wanted?”

"I don't know...maybe I didn't want you to feel like you couldn't. I mean, it's not like I had the right to say you're not supposed to go on dates. Even when it hurt like hell to see you go off on those dates, only to realize it hurt even more when you came back disappointed or sad. It should've made me feel good to know these guys weren't the ones for you, but Jules...I only ever want to see you happy. And I'm sorry these guys didn't give you that." 

"I'm not," she said softly. "I'm not sorry these guys made me feel like I wasn't worth their time." She shook her head, trying to make him understand that even after all these useless dates, she was happy they led her to this moment. Right here, right now.

"You're not?" Bucky asked, his blue eyes widening in surprise at her response. "Why? 'Cause I was always one twitch away from beatin' ten bells outta them for making my girl sad."

Julia shook her head with a soft, affectionate smile. "Well, instead of getting into trouble over guys that clearly aren't worth it, why don't you try making your girl even more happy than you did when you called her that..."

Bucky swallowed hard. “My girl?” He asked. “You want to be…”

Julia nodded and moved to grip both of her hands in his. “I do. If you want me…”

"It's what I've wanted, it's what I want," Bucky said, the contradicting sensation of warm and cool pressed around Julia's hot cheeks as his hands cupped her jaw and tilted her face up to his. "I've never wanted anything more." He said again.

Her breath hitched as his face approached hers, every inch he got closer sent another shockwave of anticipation through her body. His thumb caressed her cheek and his breath was hot on her skin, his lashes sinking down onto the tops of his cheek seconds before his lips gently pressed down onto hers. Tentatively and ever so softly. What were small kindling fires before erupted into a wildfire and without even thinking twice Julia wrapped her arms around the back of his neck and deepened the kiss.

She felt her cheeks grow hotter the longer the kiss lasted. But she also couldn’t find it in herself to quit. She knew the second his lips would leave hers, their friendship would never be the same. No matter the outcome, something in their relationship would be changed forever. But right now, she couldn’t care less as his soft fingers wandered through her curls as he deepened the kiss.

His scruff was delicious friction against her cheeks and chin as his lips moved against hers and he let out a soft noise of satisfaction. Julia's heart raced as she drew closer to him, as if they were magnets. His left hand was cool against her heated skin, even through the fabric of her top as he trailed it down her spine and let it come to a rest at her waist, where he squeezed gently, reassuringly, even as their kiss continued.

Julia sighed into the kiss before her eyes widened as Bucky picked her up weightlessly and turned to put her in his lap. She giggled as she played with the hair at the back of his neck, pulling away to nip at his bottom lip. “Could it have been this easy?”

"It's always been this easy," Bucky smiled at her, his fingers playing with a strand of her hair. He leaned in and captured her bottom lip between his own again, languid and warm. "Unfortunately you're one of the most stubborn women I've ever met. I had to wear you down," he teased, pulling away.

"Don't say that to anyone else," Julia laughed, "it sounds horrible. Like mental warfare."

Bucky laughed against her lips with a tiny shrug of his shoulders as he pulled her into his lap. "I thought mental warfare was romantic," he pressed a kiss to her jaw and she could feel his smile against her skin.

"It's only romantic if the other person knows they're a player." She grinned pressing her palms to his chest. "Like a Mr. & Mrs. Smith situation." 

Bucky leaned back with furrowed brows. "I'm a highly trained ex-assassin what the hell is a Mr. & Mrs. Smith situation?" 

Julia's eyes brightened and her grin grew. "It's only one of the best lovers to enemies to lovers movies of all time." Bucky huffed and shook his head. "I'm actually surprised I haven't forced you to watch it with me yet." 

He leaned in to her once again, pressing another chaste kiss to the side of her neck this time. "I'm not, it sounds terrible." He grumbled against her skin.

“I’m not above bribery. I’ll snuggle with you if you let me put it on.” Julia felt him freeze, his interest piqued. 

“Under the blanket?” He asked, pulling back enough to catch her eye with a mischievous grin.

“You drive a hard bargain, Barnes, but I’m willing to accommodate your terms…”

Bucky sighed dramatically. “Fine, fine, I suppose I can watch the stupid movie with you.”

“Oh, you big softie,” Julia teased as she reluctantly crawled out of his lap. “You’ll love it.” She turned and got the remote and quickly turned on the tv. “It’s not streaming so I’ll have to get the DVD.”

“DVD? Those discs right?” Bucky asked. 

“You’re catching on, big guy,” she replied as she quickly found it in the case.

Once the movie was started, Bucky made room for her under the blanket and she snuggled deeply against his side. Her hand found the skin under his sweater and splayed across his stomach making him tense and her smirk as she kept her eyes trained on the opening credits of the movie.

Her hand kept traveling over his skin evidently making it very difficult for him to resist not to pull her over onto his lap though she could tell he wanted to make it through the movie, just like she requested. She loved the feeling of being snuggled against him. A warm fuzzy feeling settled in her body as the action in the movie picked up.

Julia sank into the warmth of his body, her eyes fluttering closed halfway through the movie. It wasn't until she felt his lips press to her temple and a little squeeze of her side that she awoke. The credits played and a wave of guilt washed over her as she looked up at Bucky. His eyes met hers and a slow grin spread over his face. 

"You fell asleep." He chuckled softly. 

"I definitely did not." She lied but as his brow raised she conceded. "Okay, I did. But to be fair I've seen this movie about twenty times and it's been a long night." 

Bucky nodded softly and untangled himself from her before standing. He held out his hand for her. "C'mon, let's get you to bed sleepyhead." 

"Did you like the movie?" She asked, slipping her fingers in between his as he pulled her from the couch. 

"I did. They're probably the worst spies on the planet, but it was alright." He shrugged with a mischievous grin.

“Yeah, well, maybe they should have hired you to consult,” Julia giggled softly. “Mr. Expert assassin-spy-hero-overachiever.”

“Maybe they should have,” he fired back. “I know what I’m talking about.” He stopped them both at the door to her room, leaning past her to open it, their fingers still entwined.  “Don’t make breakfast when you wake up,” he murmured close to her ear.

“What?” Julia laughed quietly. “Why?”

“Because I’m taking my girl out for pancakes,” he replied, pressing a sweet kiss to her cheek. “I damn sure know how to make her happy. Now get some sleep, beautiful. We got a whole new life to start in the morning.”

[bi-astolfo]

A lot of people have been saying that Mantis is overpowered but at least it’s lore-accurate.

Showed up to the Avengers day one and immediately bitch-slapped Thor. Took down him, Black Panther and Cap within a minute. Immediately became the main character of the Avengers. Hooked up with Vision while he was still getting over Wanda. Had a double wddding with them. Became a tree.

Classic Mantis is crazy. None of this uwu feelings stuff like she does in the MCU. Just an impossibly amazing martial artist. A powerhouse Mary-Sue that everyone hated. She’s literally the writers OC in the sense of “um actually, that wouldn’t work on her because of x.” He took her with him when he wrote for other comics. She’s canonically in DC as Willow, a reality hopping traveler. Steve Engleheart just continued her story from where he left off in Marvel.

Just one of the craziest character stories in comics.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

A Very Long, Personal [but positive] Ramble about Neurodivgerency and Character Hyperfixation

[u can ignore this if you want this is just an ADHD ramble - this is a kinda 'mask off' talk about ADHD, autism and my personal history with it all. I also talk about the upsides and downsides - and the importance of Hobie to me personally - I just wanna normalize this stuff lol]

a.k.a The story of how I sent from obsessing over him to HIM in 10 years (what a glowup on my part ik)

(I know a lot of peeps on here can feel self-conscious about being neurodivergent and character connection or whatever you wanna call it and so do I! So I wanted to write it out or just ramble for my own sake)

I don't know if it's obvious or not, but I LOVE HOBIE BROWN. I'm going to be completely candid - I think about him maybe 85 percent of the day if not more, and that's in no way an exaggeration.

No matter what I'm doing, there's a least one tab open in my brain thinking about him. It may not be the focus, but it's there.

That's just how I operate. And I've been this way for a LONG time. In fact, Hobie isn't my first 'total focus' character in Marvel.

I gain VERY deep hyperfixations on Marvel Characters, many lasting years. And there's nothing wrong with that - in fact it's rad!

!!!! ATTENTION: This is a whimsical care-free zone. For Happy Funny Folk !!!!!!!!!

Loki - My introduction to hyperfixation with characters

I don't know if this is surprising or you'd be like 'yeah u seem like the type' but I use to LOVE Loki. For YEARS.

I'm AuDHD and when I was 13/14, a freshman in HS, he was my hyperfixation. Eerything I do for Hobie, I did for Loki. I even had a Loki blog for like 3/4 years.

This was back in 2012-2013, when Avengers had just came out, and the MCU wasn't - well, the MCU yet.

But even back then, the Loki fandom was HUGE. I have no idea who was also on Tumblr back then but it was gigantic. Because movies weren't coming out every 3 months, it went on for yearrrrsssss. Art, edits, fics, everything.

I was soooo into, I loved Loki. Like Hobie, I probably thought about Loki maybe 85-90% of the day.

And sure I was doing a lot of other stuff but in the back of my head there was always the oc x canon storyline running in my head, or replaying scenes from memory and analyzing, or wondering and speculating about his character.

I mask very minimally or not at all - so everyone in my school knew me for it. And at the time I didn't know I was neurodivergent, but that didn't stop me - I was genuinely proud of it.

I wore Loki shirts to school and brought the Avengers DVD the day it dropped (this was back before streaming in ye' old 2013). I knew the Avengers movie back to front.

I saw Thor: The Dark World the day it released and SOBBED openly in the theater when he 'died'. (I remember my mom leaning over and whispering 'Do you wanna leave?' cause I seemed that upset lol)

And everyday I use to wear a necklace like this -

(credit IJSY on Etsy)

But in black, until one day I had it in my pocket and I sat on it in class and broke it in two. And people around me deadass were like 'daammnn I know that shit hurt in ur soul' cause I LOVED Loki and people knew it. And I didn't care if they did.

And I was like that for years. Overtime the Loki fandom fizzled out, especially around Phase 2 when things like GOTG first came out.

But I had a Loki fixation like maybe up until the show came out. And even then I've seen the whole thing (I ain't even like it that much 4.5/10) and I'm gonna watch the second one (I'm a fool)

But any way like to this day I still remember the first time I saw Loki and how it made me feel and I can like picture it in my head and I consider it a pretty influencial albeit mundane moment in my life.

And it was a very specific feeling but it was like as soon as I saw Loki's first scene in Avengers, I was plugged into the screen.

Other Hyperfixations - Charles Xavier, Peter Parker

All of my hyperfixations are on men in marvel and they have always been. There's been others I've cycled through, usually based on the newest movie. I even went through a LENGTHY and very in depth K-pop era (don't get me started).

Charles Xavier was a favorite of mine (from X-Men First Class), and I LOVE MCU Peter Parker. I still do. But none hit like Loki did.

There was never THAT feeling, like the fantastical electric feeling.

And I had never felt that feeling again UNTIL I SAW HOBIE (i wanna cry)

My fixation with HOBIE BROWN HOBIE BROWN HOBIE BROWN (sorry I can't say his name only one time im too excited)

In the theatre my jaw genuinely dropped like I'm pretty sure I said 'OH NAH' to myself when i first saw him

Cause he was the prettiest character I've ever seen and I mean that

I didn't recognize what that feeling was until just now like YES, it's the same feeling. And I can't even describe it.

It's like every other character is normal but as soon as you lay eyes on this character for the first time it's like suddenly they're under your skin and curled up in your heart and you can FEEL them and the weight of them PHYSICALLY like not body wise but like astral personhood wise (do I sound unhinged)

And Hobie was just so pretty.

First of all - I didn't know he was black fgsbtgtuiuigs id never heard of spiderpunk

The wicks were what caught me off guard first. I know what wicks are, I've seen them before. But never animated.

And although Miles and Gwen and Pavi all look realistic - Hobie looked real to me. The high cheekbones and broad lips, the raised brow ridge and wide set eyes - he looked different from them, not just in art style but like - I DONT KNOW.

But that's how it is, you know what I mean. There was just something in my brain that was like 'he has meaning to me'. Like 'Idk who this man is, but whatever story he's writing, I'm reading it'.

That's what hyperfixation feels like.

And Hobie in specific held and holds so much more weight for me IN ADDITION.

I started falling out of my Loki phase around Thor: Ragnorok in 2017 - which is to say I was varying degrees of 'obsessed' with Loki for about 5 years.

Around that time, maybe starting in 2015, police brutality in NYC picked up. Me and my friends started getting more radicalized, going to protests, and identifying as communists, anarchists, or both.

One of my favorite things at the time was The Black Panther Party handbook I'd found at a second hand-book store. And for a while the Black Panther Party was a special interest of mine.

It made me really interested in the 70's, the civil rights movement, and the rise of punk that happened at the same time. Around this time, I made my first 'battle jacket' with a patch that said "Black Lives Matter, Bitch." and begged my parents for a pair of doc martens.

I didn't have Hobie back then, but I have him now. And he still resonates.

There was very much a time where I was that homeless, punk teen, angry at police, who wanted to be taken in by my favorite heros.

My admiration for Hobie comes from like - everything he is. Everything he stands for and represents. I don't need Hobie like I would've as a teen. But I know deep down the healing he could bring other people as a comfort character.

Or even in terms of a good political example, or great rep for alt black people. All of it.

That can't really be said for Loki. Or Charles Xavier (even if X-men is a race allegory), or even Peter Parker.

I grew up in NYC all my life, and I LOVE Spider-man, but I never felt Connected to Peter Parker as if we lived in the same city. I never felt something in common with Peter even if he was broke too.

Hobie's just different, y'know.

The Downsides

It's easy to feel really embarrassed by all this - and even now I'm feeling shy even describing how it feels.

Cringe culture gets in your head before you know it. I'm CONSTANTLY telling myself 'no, Hobie would understand that you're neurodivergent and this is you expressing yourself he wouldn't think youre cringe youre not cringe okay' As if my comfort character Hobie Brown thinking I'm cringe is like jksjfkjf the worst thing ever - i can't, i can't with myself.

I genuinely want to hug Hobie more than I want to huge most celebrities or influential real-life people.

I genuinely think hugging him would be more healing to my being than hugging the Pope or the Dhali Lama or something. I admire him and care about him but he's NOT REAL. It's PARASOCIAL And like duh, I know that - i'm grown as fuck.

Sometimes it can genuinely get you down that you care about this character-person and you can't be with them

It's like you miss them. But they're not real and you don't know them. And I know that sounds tragic or bizarre. But it's kinda just weird. It feels weird not in a sad way, but in a 'why brain?? why is this possible in my brain?? huh???' way.

Like...I know it's parasocial, but like it's not like a fan and a youtuber. He's not real, I'm not giving him money or hurting anyone. I know there's nothing to be ashamed of, but it's just WEIRD.

Like... I know my cat isn't a person and mentally I don't see them as a person and can't like analyze them like a full formed person even if I wanted to. But with Hobie - someone who is not a person - my brain can???? Like I've never met him but like... I can imagine a full conversation with him beginning to end in his place of residence I've also never seen before??????? SO WEIRD.

Also theres that thing of him running in the back of my head 85% of the time.

Even if I'm talking or cooking or something, I'm still daydreaming about him - I have ADHD. And during those times if i'm interrupted and someone give me a THIRD thing to do (besides thing 1 and thinking about Hobie) I get irritated. Because now I have less brain room for Hobie stuff.

The Upsides

Now reading all of this you might be like 'sib this sounds like nothing but a problem r u okay' but I PROMISE ITS REAL FUN SOMETIMES

And it's nothing to feel ashamed of!

Now the last part was just a list of downsides, but the upsides are more things I can do because of my hyperfixation on Hobie that makes me happy

Like I said, I daydream a LOT. Like a LOT.

Mainly with OCs You can probably tell how much I like OCs, and how much OCs - even others', mean to me. And usually, my OCs are the ones who I see the in-media universe through. I don't have to think about making an OC much, for me personally they come fully formed. Because of this, while I'm watching movies I begin to have involuntary daydreams of where I can add in an OC, or what they'd be doing. I typically only do this for Marvel though. Hardly DC or any other media other than maybe Batman. For Loki, it was a character named Asdisira Heimdaldottir who I shipped with him. And for Hobie it's Diane Pastors (Disco-Spider).

And although I am in completely control of what these daydreams are, they are vividly realistic, and can come on at different times.

For me, it's while listening to music mostly. But anything can trigger it - from a good text post, to hearing a phrase. And these daydreams are extremely vivid. Most times, you can visibly see when I'm doing it. My eyes will glaze over or start moving as if I'm trying to remember something. Sometimes I may say 'random' phrases. I say lines from the scene I'm in outloud. (Like saying 'How could you!' in an offended tone to myself, if that's what the character in the daydream is saying). I also make facial expressions. I can do it on purpose, like hitting play on a movie and resuming where I left off. Usually, when I do this, I close my eyes. I much prefer to sit and do it without multitasking, but I often do it while doing something else.

These daydreams connect, and arcs/storylines can go on for months/years.

Usually these stories go on for months in IRL time, and span the whole history of the character. For Loki, I probably has Asdisira for 4 years at most. Which is still a LONG time. These arcs can take different pathways, and I may imagine a scene multiple times - in different ways, but usuall the timeline of the oc x canon stays overall the same. Sadly, I almost never write these down. I would pull my hair out and theres not enough time in the world for me to write Diane and Hobie's full narrative down in detail that does it justice. I wanna make a bullet list of their narrative but i dont wanna clog dashes

I can genuinely use them as a comfort character.

I don't need this much now, and nowhere as much as I needed it in high school, but having the ability to daydream vividly at will about a character you feel safe and happy with - it's dope. Sometimes it really helps. There were a lot of times I imagined Loki comforting me or showing me kindness or helping me calm down. And sometimes you can do it just for fun. Like, as a treat. Whenever. I'm imagining Diane and Hobie at a fish n' chip shop right now. It's drizzling outside and it smells like oil and Hobie douses his chips in wayyy to much vinegar. It's like I'm there. Like...I just do that. thats rad as hell. (and I don't know how to describe it if you can't do it but hopefully others know how it is but it's VIVID, like wayyyy more than any dream.)

Literally a walking fact book about them.

I'm smug AS FUCK. I use to love when dudes in high school challenged me about the MCU cause I wore a shirt. Like, oh buddy. Oh pal. Just you fucking wait. I know this character better than you know your own mother - try me hoe. I love reading characters like a book and rewatching scenes, breaking down motives, watching their movements, looking for patterns and drawing connections to real world history, cultures, or psychology. I LOVE watching behavior and personality in the movies, and making conclusions about where they'd come from, reasonably, for the character, and how it affects them outside the scope of the film.

And most of all - It's Free Joy we're almost at the end I promise

This is long as all hell and unlike my other posts there really isn't a neat little character study but uhhh I wanna end with this I guess -

The best part of it, is it's free joy. Literally.

My brain can do something a lot of others can't. I can feel a kind a comfort and understanding with a character, I can entertain myself and come up with amazing stories that have mean to me.

I can make wonderful worlds and all that without lifting a finger, and hangout with my favorite characters just by going

(literally how i be sitting there - professor x headass)

I hoping the fucking multiverse with my mind.

But there's nothing cringe about that. And there's nothing cringe about drawing Hobie for hours on end, by himself or with an oc. There's nothing cringe about thinking about them a lot, or wanting to buy or make a lot of merch.

We aren't hurting anyone. It's not like a celebrity or a youtuber. Nothing we're doing is taboo or anything we're literally just being happy. And squealing about a character we deeply love

Like..Golly if more mfers in this world were squealing like us once a week maybe they'd be happier, you know what I mean. People be walking around mad as hell at the world...like why don't you look at this picture of Hobie and calm down? That's what makes me calm down.

__________________________________________________

Anyway uh this is LONG and not connected much to ATSV but if you read down this low THANK YOU so deeply it means a lot. If you relate to this at all I'd love to hear.

And if you think I'm unhinged. Absolutely. But that has nothing to do with this and ain't nothing wrong about it, in the words of megan the stallion... 'ah'.

I leave you with this pic of Hobie goodbye :)

im using my magic autism powers to hold his hand :) now im giving him a hug im having fun

[rt8815]

Come Home

Dipping my toes back into writing with my very first Loki x OC fic, though she (Dr. Aspen Junge) only makes a brief appearance at the end of this piece.

It's post-Avengers canon divergent. I'll be jumping around non-chronologically, but perhaps not as much as my Criminal Minds OC fic.

A special thanks to @illegalcerebral for brainstorming names for my OC with me and for being an awesome sounding board ♥️

WC: 1,153

...

New York, 2030

Loki mumbled to himself, brow furrowed in concentration. He sat at his desk, sorting through forms and intelligence reports that Stark had sent earlier in the day. Being an Avenger involved a surprising amount of paperwork.

“Daddy?” a tiny voice called out from the study door. There stood Loki’s four year old daughter, her face slightly paled with tiredness.

Setting the papers aside, he opened his arms to her. “Why are you out of bed, lille venn?” he asked when she climbed into his lap.

“Fenny can't sleep,” she explained, handing him the wolf plushie that she had been clutching against her ribs.

“Mmm, and what's troubling him, Astrid?”

“We’re worried about Uncle Thor. Is he okay?”

“Why do you ask, love?”

She pointed at the window, which was getting steadily pelted with rain and sleet.

“His storm sounds sad, Daddy,” she explained, leaning her head against his shoulder. “It’s not loud like usual.”

Loki agreed that it looked rather miserable outside, all drizzly and gray.

“You miss him,” he stated simply, earning a solemn nod in response.

Placing a finger beneath her chin, he tilted her head back, revealing her melancholic face.

“It’s kind of you to be concerned about your Uncle Thor, but this,” he inclined his head toward the rain, “isn’t him. Asgard is too far away for him to influence the weather here.”

“Oh,” came her soft reply.

He brushed a few inky black, wavy locks off her face. “As for missing him...I know it’s hard to wait, but Thor will return soon.”

“How soon?”

“Two sleeps, darling.”

Astrid gazed blankly at the rain, digesting the information. “So...day after tomorrow.”

“Correct.”

She buried herself in her father’s chest with a huff. “I suppose that’s acceptable.”

Loki chuckled, nuzzling her hair.

“All right, back to bed with you,” he ordered as he stood from his chair and carried her down the hall. “We have a busy day ahead of us, and if you aren’t well rested, you’ll be as ornery as a bilgesnipe.”

Kneeling, he gently placed Astrid on her bed, but she sat back up before he could tuck her in. Loki raised his brows at her questioningly.

“Daddy, can we sing “Come Home” for Uncle Thor? Please?” she begged.

Loki hesitated. The song he had written many years ago in a bout of homesickness was meant to be sung by the weary traveler, not those awaiting his return. Moreover, it held very complicated feelings for him. His daughter, however, knew none of that.

Astrid’s hazel eyes rounded and her lower lip jutted out ever so slightly, pulling at Loki’s heartstrings.

Norns, that child had him wrapped around her fingers. He sighed in resignation.

“Very well, but not too loudly. We mustn’t wake your Mother.”

“Okay,” she whispered, waving her hands about, leaving behind a trail of teal sparks. “And you can use your ‘llusions too?”

Loki carefully enveloped Astrid’s hands in his own. “With your help,” he said, smiling when her face lit up.

“Focus,” he instructed. “Think of the object you wish to project. See it in your mind's eye. Do you have it?”

Astrid stared with comical intensity at their joined hands, a little dent forming on her forehead. “Got it,” she announced after a few moments.

“Good, keep concentrating,” he instructed as he opened his hands, prompting her to do the same.

Resting in Astrid's palms was a narrow insect nearly an inch long, with black wings accented by yellow along the edges, and a yellow-red-black target pattern on its head. As Loki watched, the creature unfurled its wings and took off, hovering a few inches in the air.

There the black and yellow underbelly was exposed, the latter of which began glowing at regular intervals.

“It's a lightning bug!” Astrid announced proudly.

“I see! Very well done,” Loki congratulated her.

“Thanks! Your turn, Daddy.”

“I don't know how I could possibly follow that performance, but I shall try.”

Closing his eyes, Loki slowly raised his arms, palms upward. Rich green light emanated from them, spreading throughout the room, replacing the furniture and bookcases with a verdant forest, teeming with wildlife.

A (quietly) roaring waterfall appeared where a lamp stood moments before, the stream it emptied into bubbling alongside Astrid's bed. Above them towered a majestic apple tree, its branches populated with vibrantly colored birds.

“Ready, sweetheart?” he asked, opening his eyes.

“Ready.”

Music softly swelled around them as they began the chorus, altering the tune to that of a lullaby:

Men trærne de danser og fossene stanser

Når hun synger, hun synger “kom hjem”

Men trærne de danser og fossene stanser

When she sings, she sings “come home”

When she sings, she sings “come home”

After a pause, Loki took the lead for the verse, his warm baritone voice settling over the room like a cozy blanket.

I stormsvarte fjell, jeg vandrer alene

Over isbreen tar jeg meg frem

I eplehagen står møyen den vene

Og synger…

Loki gestured to Astrid, inviting her to finish the line.

She looked skyward, her fledgling soprano filling the air as she sweetly sang, “når kommer du hjem?”

They repeated the chorus once more, softly clapping to the beat of the fading music.

Men trærne de danser og fossene stanser

Når hun synger, hun synger “kom hjem”

Men trærne de danser og fossene stanser

When she sings, she sings “come home”

When she sings, she sings “come home”

With a flick of Loki’s wrists, the illusion dissolved and Astrid’s room returned to normal.

“Right, you. Sleepy time,” he said firmly, pressing his index finger to her forehead, prompting her to fall back theatrically onto the pillows.

“Did Uncle Thor hear us, Daddy?”

Loki hummed as he tucked the covers around her.

“What do you think, Astrid?”

The little girl tilted her head, giving it careful consideration.

She nodded decidedly, hugging Fenny closely.

“I know he did.”

Loki smiled, lines crinkling around his eyes.

“That's what I believe too,” he agreed, kissing the top of Astrid's head.

Sleep finally began to win, Astrid’s eyelids drooping heavily.

“God natt, Pappa,” she yawned.

Loki’s chest squeezed hearing her speak in Frigga’s dialect.

He waved his hand once more, casting an illusion of stars and swirling galaxies on the bedroom ceiling.

“God natt, min skatt,” he replied as he closed the door softly.

He walked past the study on his way to the primary suite (the paperwork would keep), pausing outside the bedroom door.

“Heimdall?” he murmured. “Tell Thor a little girl is desperately missing her uncle.”

Creeping quietly, Loki made his way to the bed to slide under the covers and wrap his arm around Aspen.

“Ya big softie,” she mumbled, pointing to the silent video feed on the baby monitor.

Loki chuckled in response. There was no point in denying it.

He pulled her closer and burrowed his face in her hair.

“Only for the two of you.”

...

I headcanon that Asgardian sounds more Icelandic, and Vanir, which I assume Frigga would have spoken as a first language, would more closely resemble Norwegian, since that's the language they used in the Loki series.

Lille venn translates to "little friend," or in the context of a parent speaking to a child, it means "little darling."

God natt means "good night."

Min skatt means "my treasure."

[jmwdoesthings]

Set Me Free - a Loki x OC fanfiction - Chapter One

~~~*~*~*~~~

Hello :) I'm Jmw. So, I'm re-writing an old fanfiction of mine, and will be posting the chapters accordingly. There will be angst, fluff, and no smut, though it may get very slightly spicy at times (no gross details, or explicit content, I promise). However, since this deals with some heavy topics like madness and torture, I am going to rate this an 18 so people with a fragile heart can avoid being traumatised.

This is a Loki/OC, childhood-friends (sort of) to enemies to lovers. Thor will be her, so will Tony Stark. This is before Avengers and after Thor: Dark World, but it does have the Avengers. The chronology may vary from the line of events slightly.

I'll try and update as quickly as I can, anyway... here's the first chapter.

Ah, and this is just a story - there is only one God and he wants the best for you :)

Enjoy!

~~~*~*~*~~~

Chapter One - In which Loki is mistaken for one who cares.

Vengeance crumbles the soul. It sways foundations, cracks backbones. It topples tenderness in the heart and reduces honesty to a brittle sculpture which eventually shatters as it's blown through by the ice of disappointment; it adorns feelings with masks woven of intricate plans of deceit and manipulation. 

And so Loki Laufeyson’s heart became hard like black ice, which ensnared all the raw and red and beating within it, and turned him into a being of darkness, with black crystals cutting through the blood in his veins, shrouding his chest in armour of indifference, flooding his intestines with acid and clenching his jaw, tight.

Could one see this turmoil and hidden fury in his eyes? Yes and no. His eyes became devoid of warmth and seemed like two pristine spheres - beautiful spheres, blue like jotun skin - set there merely as a tool for deceit and treachery, instead of being a window to his soul, and the turmoil he hid well enough for nobody to notice.

Loki often scoffed at that little fanciful statement. Who in their right mind saw the soul through the eyes, like through windows? When he observed other people’s eyes he saw nothing but twitching matter, something which required an irritating amount of protection on the battlefield, two frustratingly weak little points which simultaneously provided something as valuable and immense as vision. What fool wrote that statement, he wondered, then decided whatever state of intoxication that moron was in when he decided to pick up a quill and play being a poet must have been an incredibly deep one.

Or so Loki rambled on, monologuing internally to drown out the real reason why he scoffed so at a statement so true: if eyes were the window to his soul, then he feared what it was that other people - people who possessed this uncanny ability of seeing soul through the eyes, something which he had trouble with since forever - may see when they looked at his own.

It was a wonder he wasn’t spat at more often, if so many people could see the soul through the eyes. Or perhaps it was why he was spat at so often, be it with words, brutal weapons or projectiles of saliva.

But now, Loki Laufeyson did not care, for his heart was no better than deadened flesh. His heart was encased in black crystals, thoughts of revenge burned in his mind and branded his heart with something hot and seething.

Asgard was never his! Not for one accursed moment!

Loki looked up at the dimming sky and wished with every piece of his heart that he could set it on fire and watch it burn. It looked far too peaceful for him to be content with. The stars even had the audacity to wink at him - actually wink at him! As though he was just little Loki throwing a tantrum in the middle of Central Park, not the king of Asgard who was slowly descending into madness of his own accord!

Loki stared back at the millions of serene lights, looking at him from above. Or were they looking at him? Perhaps he was only thinking that their teeth-sucking was directed at him. In fact, it must have been only him - the great, omniscient stars couldn't care less about the current king of Asgard or about his miserable business.

Like Odin. Loki laughed. Odin couldn’t care less either. He must have had as much fun as those damned stars, watching Loki grow up and fight with Thor about who would be king. Oh, he must have had quite the giggle as they sparred, as they sent scholar after scholar tearing their hair and nanny after nanny running off in tears at their unfathomable characters, knowing full well which perfect son would be the final victor.

Loki clenched his fists until he heard his knuckles cracking and snapping. It had been one thousand years. It had been more than one thousand years. He had believed, for more than one thousand years, that he had been viewed as an equal, as a competitor. But no. All along, he had been a pawn. A tool. A little political reservation!

He gave a few notes of black, harsh-sounding laughter which almost made the grass wither. He had lived in his brother's shadow for so long, holding onto an illusion that somewhere, beneath all these brewing thoughts and schemes he would, one day, make his shot at being worthy and reach the crown with the tips of his fingers.

But this crown had been plucked out of his reach. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Loki had simply reached out to take it. But Loki hadn’t simply reached out to take it - he had crawled, he had pulled himself forward through fields of broken glass and metal, he had torn at the solid ground and grit and dust with his teeth in the darkness of his brother’s huge silhouette, just so that he could move along with a pace which wasn’t pitiful to the ones whom he valued. And when he been just about to grasp it, grasp this chance, shoot this shot… Odin had plucked the crown from him and placed it on Thor’s head. And Thor hadn’t been battered. Thor hadn’t had a single bruise, a single scratch upon him, from his journey to the crown. Thor hadn’t crawled forward on his knees through thorns and sharp, jagged rocks. Thor had been ridden towards the crown in a carriage, reclining with his feet on the opposite seat with everything he needed at his elbow, leaving Loki to be run over and stamped over by the horses which pulled it.

But now, Loki had a plan. One so intricate and subtle, nobody would notice his justified intentions. He would destroy the very place he came from, the very place which posed threat and show Odin that it was he, Loki Laufeyson, the lesser son, who accomplished something even the great Thor Odinson couldn’t do. If Odin wanted him to play at being worthy, so be it. He’d do it his own way. Jotunheim was going to be wiped off the face of the planet, and his father would perhaps finally grace him with-

Loki realised where his train of thought was going, then the shadows in his face darkened as he snarled.

“He’s not my father,” he spat at a nearby tree, sending it cowering and twitching as it ought to when he glared at it, internally shame-faced at some hidden longing of being acknowledged by the Allfather. Loki didn’t need to be acknowledged. He was the god of chaos and he could do everything the god of thunder could, more, for he wasn’t an oaf who had to threaten the scholars so that Odin would receive word that he did, indeed, pass all of his tests which involved more subtlety and intelligence than swinging Mjolnir around his thick head did.

Loki didn’t quite delve into the reason as to why he escaped to Midgard for the day, well, evening. He hated mortals. They were stupid and weak. And yet Asgard was too much, today - this morning Loki had awoken with something horrible and burning stumbling up and down his spine and leaking into his thoughts. He needed to get away, get away from this personal Hel he was walking into… and he supposed there was an element of curiosity too, as to what his brother would now be doing in a place which wasn’t even worthy to uphold one of his boots.

The distant hum of machinery never ceased, even if there was nothing but trees for quite some distance around him, and it only made his thoughts blacker as he gritted his teeth. Perhaps he ought to have chosen a different location to revel in his bitterness than this suffocating park. Even the trees and foliage growing around sparsely looked as though they were artificial.

Then, someone spoke.

“Hello?”

Loki disregarded this voice and presence, a small thought of his weighing more than whatever life coursed through this impertinent mortal’s veins. 

He looked up at the darkening sky and returned his thoughts to this poisoned cup life served him, which he was forced to drink from and watch as his veins became black, as his mouth started to froth and ice began to spread through his insides, hurting him, cutting him, spiking him.

Ice. Ha, ha! Of course, Loki forgot! Ice wouldn’t hurt him. No, because Loki was never Odinson in the first place; he was Laufeyson! He was a blue-skinned bastard! He was a jotun-!

“Excuse me.”

Loki made a sound similar to a growl and whipped around. If this mortal knew who he was, it would be grovelling on its papery little knees for forgiveness for interrupting his inner monologue. But Loki would not be forgiving. Oh, no. Quite frankly, he had enough of everything which spoke and had eyes, and if he was going to officially become an outcast, he was going to put his whole blackened soul into it. He’d had enough of being trodden on by others.

It was dark, but light enough for shapes to be distinguishable in the evening, and Loki had sharp eyes. When he focused them on this pathetic little shape, his murderous intentions lessened a little, because he had set them upon a child. A small child. Small enough not to be able to survive with a mother’s hand to hold, and yet it was here, with no other presence around, looking up at him as though he was a potential mother. 

It sniffed. Hah, it was crying; its lip was trembling! Disgusting.

“Sorry… Have you seen a man here anywhere?” it said, its voice torn but still strangely polite for a creature so small. Loki hated its sound as soon as it spoke, for it had that unclear quality which came from very recently learning how to speak which grated on his already-tender nerves.

“No,” he replied curtly, then flicked his head to the side for it to move on. But it didn’t seem to take the hint, merely stared up at him with the two, huge eyes in its head shining. Loki couldn’t quite tell, but he thought they were grey. A strange colour. Perhaps young mortal offspring had different eyes to Asgardian children.

When a few moments had passed and still it stood there, Loki began to grow irritated. Perhaps he ought to shoo it away like some meandering cattle. Did it not get the hint? Was it stupid?

He turned back to stare at it and it shifted, bowing its head and clenching its hands at its small chest. 

“I’m lost,” it said, sniffing, tears spilling down its small face.

Loki chuckled emptily at its words. He was lost too, though he had a place to call home - a place which he now officially ruled over, actually - and he felt it, cold and empty in this soul which people could see through the eyes and he kept somewhere in his chest. In his chest… It must be the reason why it felt so cold recently. 

“Sad, isn’t it,” he said to it, folding his hands behind his back. “Quite a tragedy.”

He observed the creature with distaste. It was undoubtedly female. In the last slivers of light, Loki could make out black hair curling to its chin and rather clear features, as though they belonged to an artist’s paintbrush.

He sighed. “Why don’t you do us both a favour and go and find your mother, hm?”

The mortal child wiped its face and gave a resigned sigh. 

“My mother is dead.”

Loki blinked. “Oh.”

He shifted from foot to foot, felt a spike of sympathy, then grew immediately irritated for giving a fraction of a damn, and they grew even more irritated because his moment of dark contemplation of his existence was utterly ruined and now he was going to have to work himself up again to produce it.

“What makes you think I’m going to help you?” he snapped, then really did shoo it away like a stray cat. “Be on your way! Shoo! Off you go! Get going!”

But it stood its ground and did nothing but stare at him. Loki’s fingers twitched. Was it dim-witted? Was it moronic? Pathetic, stupid creature! Did it not see he was incensed?

“Away!” He raised his voice. “I have nothing for you!”

He snarled, baring his teeth. Scare it off, that should do it.

But it didn’t look scared, though it did obediently take a few steps back warily, as though he was a mad man, which only made his fingers tighten and his temper flame, but then there was a rustle to their left; it jumped, its grey eyes widening, then stumbled forward again, out of the shadows of the bushes.

It looked so small in this dark, cold setting of dusk, slight, insignificant compared to the looming trees. It looked as lost as it said it was. But it could not help itself, no matter how hard it tried. He still had a way out. Theoretically, anyway.

Loki gritted his teeth and clenched his fist and muttered some black curses under his breath which he would have never repeated anywhere near his mother for he would have gotten walloped like a swine being butchered.

“Right, fine,” he said airily. “Stay here and bother me, if it makes you feel better.” He waved his hand at it, then turned his back on it. He chuckled, then lowered his voice. “If only you knew who I was. You’d be running for the hills as fast as your little legs could carry you.”

He had been speaking mainly to himself, but its silly voice sounded again and, he had to give it the credit, it made the corners of his lips turn up.

“I know who you are.”

Loki gave a scoffing laugh, then tittered. “Oh, yes. Of course you do.”

“I do,” it insisted.

“I’m sure you do,” he turned towards it, but not completely, for it did not deserve his full attention, and immediately grew irritated at himself for giving it so much attention when he had came to Midgard for a lack of it. “After all, you’re all big and grown up. Grown up enough to navigate this extensive stretch of land.” He encompassed the dismal park with a gesture. “In fact, why don’t you go and explore it?”

He looked at its eyes, then suppressed a shiver. They shouldn’t have belonged to a creature so small and insignificant. They were solemn and knowing, like his mother’s often were whenever he had an outburst; like they had seen just as much as his had.

“Go on,” he mouthed to it, making a pointer with his hand, turning his eyes towards any other features but its observational tools. “Off you go.”

It fixed his eyes onto his and said, “You are Loki Laufeyson, the king of Asgard.”

Loki halted in his tracks, feeling something cold in his veins, his airy smile melting off his face and being replaced by cold astonishment.

“What?” he whispered, his voice sharp as a knife. “What did you just call me?”

Its small brows met, but it fulfilled his request. “I said you are Loki Laufey-”

He reached it in a flash and clamped his hand upon the lower part of its face. He felt his chest heaving up and down with searing rage and he could have sworn that his hand was now tinged with an accursed hue of blue in the dim light.

“Silence,” he hissed, as it struggled under his grasp. “Or I’ll make sure you’ll never speak again.”

It clutched his hand and pushed it down, its eyes wide. “Cold!” it whimpered, clutching at its face. “You’re cold, you’re so cold!”

Loki retracted his hand, something unravelling in his chest as he watched it rub its face and its lips trembling.

“I-” He made a motion with his hand, as though he could brush away his outburst with the material of his pants, then scowled and straightened, severing his guilt and caging himself. “Who are you? How do you know who I am?”

There was no disguise upon it. It wasn’t an illusion. If it was, he would have distorted it with his touch, or his hand would have passed right through it. What was this? This was a mortal child who knew his name! It knew his heritage! Nobody knew of his true heritage but Odin and Frigga!

He took a few steps back, his hands instinctively reaching for his daggers; he whipped them out and brandished them, the metal gleaming cruelly in the fading light. 

“Listen, witch, or whatever you are…” He brought the dagger up to its snub nose and watched it furrow its brows and frown at him. “... either you tell me who you are and what your plan is, or I’m going to be the living evidence of exactly why you shouldn’t talk to strangers.”

It was silent. 

“Speak!” he yelled, losing his temper. “Who sent you? Are you a spy?”

The mortal child blinked up at him. It seemed not to understand that it could be skinned like a hare if he only wished for it, looking at the gleaming blades with interest instead; looking up at him as though he was the young one frolicking, here!

Loki felt a pang of embarrassment, then lowered the tip of his blade. He was threatening a being which had probably just learned how to walk of its own accord. It didn’t understand him. 

He sheathed his daggers and straightened, his blood still roaring in his ears and his chest heaving, and he stared down at it, waiting for it to make the next move.

Its gaze travelled to his hands, to his eyes, then it blinked and began to pull its pink, fluffy sleeves down to grab their ends.

“My name is Henrietta Knott.” It managed to engulf its hands in sleeve, flapped them, then sighed and swallowed. “I turn six in half a year. My parents died in a fire when I was… two.”

Loki clenched his fists. It was one thing loathing the man who raised him and not having a father at all. Or a mother. Perhaps he would have died if Odin hadn’t taken him in.

“I live with my uncle,” it continued. “We went for a walk, and then he disappeared.”

Loki frowned. “He disappeared.”

It nodded and when it spoke next its voice was trembling again. “I turned around and he wasn’t there anymore.”

With that, fresh tears began to spill down its cheeks and it stood there, crying, not even bothering to wipe its face. It looked truly pitiable, this shivering form in a pink fluffy coat and yellow, waterproof boots which were far too big for it.

Loki wasn’t proud to admit it, not even to himself, but at that moment he had never felt more helpless, as irritation, spite, anger and pity sloshed against one another in his chest. His fingers twitched behind his back as he held them there and he tried to come up with something to contribute to the situation with.

“I won’t help you,” he finally said, more to clarify this to himself than to inform the sobbing thing of his lack of heart.

“You will,” it insisted, sniffing. “You will help me.”

“You heard me, child.”

“You will.” It stopped crying now, swallowing and wiping its face. “Even if you are a bad man. You wouldn’t really hurt a child. Not knowingly.”

Loki opened his mouth, then gave a snort of disbelief. The audacity of this creature! What was that even supposed to mean? What in the Allfather’s name was all this?

“I beg your pardon?”

It gave a shaky sigh, then regained control over itself. “Your heart is horrible. You have killed people through ignorance. Through boredom.”

Loki listened with his mind blank to the words tumbling from this five-year-old’s tongue and wondered how it knew what ignorance meant.

“Look at your hands,” it said pointedly. “They’re awful, aren’t they?”

Loki looked at them obediently, stunned out of his senses, something which never happened. He was the one who frazzled people’s senses; and here was this practically a new-born in comparison to him, telling him of his sins while he blundered!

He felt his nostrils flaring and lowered his hands with some force, his face stretching into something perhaps an opponent would find threatening, but this child only looked at him curiously with a strange solemn glimmer in its eyes as it watched him.

“Look at your hands,” it repeated, then pointed at them and flapped its own.

Loki tore his scouring gaze from it and looked down at his hands once more. He turned them over, running his vision over their creases, their details, their length. Nothing.

After a few moments, he shook his head slowly and cast a questioning look back at the child.

“I admit that I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said flatly. “What am I meant to be seeing?”

“They drip with black,” the child pronounced. “Black which doesn’t belong to you.”

“Explain yourself.”

“It’s blood.” It nodded when his expression became blank. “Of the people you’ve hurt. Killed.”

He gave a harsh laugh to mask the strange quiver of his heart, fear seeping through his bones. 

“Blood is red,” he said cuttingly. “You’ve missed that part of your homework, little creature. Now, you ought to go home and do it before some equally evil man comes to find you and hurts you.”

It shivered, then took a few steps forward; closer to him.

“If you killed by accident, the blood would be red.”

Loki felt a strange urge to push it away with his foot as the child took hold of his coat, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Hadn’t he threatened it a moment ago? And yet it was clinging to him like he was safe, for all the apparent black dripping from his hands. If it hadn’t said what she had a few moments ago, Loki would have been certain it had a few cogs missing beneath the soft and black of its hair.

“Some drops are red. Some you did not intend to die. But most are black, and so you are bad.” It looked up at him, as though for confirmation. “People who kill to achieve a… a selfish goal are evil. Aren’t they?”

Loki of Asgard made another motion with his hands, as though wiping them clean, then snorted at himself and folded them behind his back again. 

He said nothing, but it was still staring at him. Plus, who was he to destroy the moral compass of a being who didn’t see him as king, he thought half-heartedly.

“Yes,” he replied softly, feeling oddly hollow and helpless. “They are evil.”

It observed him for a little while longer, then shrugged its small shoulders. “You will wash it off in years to come.”

Loki felt a pang of… something, in his chest. Something hopeful. “Really.”

“Really.” It nodded. “People pay with bad deeds with pain. That’s what Uncle said once, to Mister Anderson.”

It sighed, then looked back up at him from the daisies they were standing on, pity in its eyes. “I’m sorry you will get hurt.”

Loki would have perhaps felt his temper spike violently again, transforming from his restlessness at this statement, but it was quelled by the action of the child taking hold of his fingers.

“Don’t look so angry,” Henrietta Knott whispered. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Loki looked down at their hands. Hers was small and pink and very soft, as she held his pale forefinger and thumb, hard and toughened with scars in comparison. Something tugged at his heart; he sighed, then moved his hand so that it held hers. It felt good. Good and strange, because Henrietta looked astonishingly content with him doing so. 

Loki’s hands were renowned for doing great and terrible things - wielding daggers, casting spells, being tools which expertly aided him with his ploys and weaving his lies - but using them to guide and reassure was certainly not one of them.

“I don’t want to get hurt either,” he admitted, again, more to himself than to the small thing pressed to his right leg.

“I know,” she replied, then looked up at him. “Can you take me home?”

Loki, the being with no conscience and a black soul raised an eyebrow at this proposal. “Do you really want me to hold your hand all the way?” he mocked. “Don’t you fear the black blood dripping on your pretty little coat and fingers?”

She laughed at him, as though he had said something particularly funny. She had a rich, gurgling laugh that even his bitterness and black ice had some trouble withstanding. 

“Oh, you are silly.”

Loki frowned. Silly didn’t belong to his repertoire of things he would like to be called, especially not by beings who could barely talk. “I beg your pardon?”

“My fingers won’t be dirty.” She smiled. “I haven’t hurt anybody.”

“Not yet,” he said through gritted teeth. “Just wait until you’re older.”

Henrietta looked up at him and stopped laughing, looking too solemn for her age as her grey eyes widened. “Will I hurt people when I’m older?” 

Loki had absolutely no idea. For a moment, he thought about toying with her as she had unwittingly done with his feelings since he’d met her, but he was holding her hand, it was delicate and soft like a chick  and he’d be damned if anything happened to it while he was around.

“Oh, don’t worry. Everybody does,” he said as a throwaway comment as they started to walk. “In fact, I daresay you will break hearts like dinner plates when a table is turned over, with those eyes of yours.”

“Oh.”

She seemed crestfallen. Loki observed her with raised eyebrows as she sighed then as she said, “Then I will never grow up.”

A corner of his lips twitched. “No?” 

“No,” she replied. “You know, in this book there was a boy who never grew up. He could fly. He flew to listen to this really nice girl read stories to her brothers about him, then flew back to his magical home in a land that was quite far away.”

“Indeed?”

“M-hm,” she hummed, stepping alongside him through the trees. “I won’t grow up either. A lot of grown-ups aren’t nice. So I will stay like this, hopefully. And won’t grow up.”

Loki bowed his head, wishing for a moment that he didn’t grow up either. 

“Don’t,” he said softly, then fell silent as she did. 

It was autumn, October. Leaves had fallen off the trees, jumping to their death and lay piled around them, skittering across the rich grass and carpeting the dirt paths. Though it was night, it was still pleasant enough for the creature beside him not to shiver. Loki didn’t shiver; he was an accursed jotun.

They hadn’t walked very far when Henrietta stopped.

“Oh, look!”

“What is it?” he snapped, for he had just begun to sink into dark thought and she’d disturbed his wallowing for the third time in the space of fifteen minutes.

“Floating leaves.” She bent over to look at whatever it was she was fascinated with. “There’s a puddle under there.”

“So-?”

Before he could pull her on, she slid her hand out of his and jumped straight into this puddle, splashing, squealing with laughter. Loki watched flabbergasted, trying to understand how jumping in a pooling of downpour and getting her clothes wet was a form of amusement, before the muddy water landed a few inches short of his shoes. He took an instant step back. 

“What are you doing?!” He pulled her away from the water. “You crazy being. Ah, you-!”

She had kicked the puddle and stained the bottom of his pants with mud. He gave a disdainful scowl, dried them with a flash of green light, then glared down at her. 

“Right! That’s it. I’m leaving you to the wolves. You can go and find your uncle and if you get consumed as a form of light supper, it serves you right.”

He finished scowling, then raised his hands in question, because she was staring at him in awe.

“What was that?!” she cried, stamping in delight. “Do that again!”

His brows furrowed. “Do what?”

She clapped her hands and made a sound like a mute frog being trod on, miming an explosion with her hands.  “This!”

He frowned, then realised. 

“Oh.” He snapped his fingers. “This?”

Zing. The green light danced up and down his form, lighting up the darkness with brilliance, and lifted his hair a little. Henrietta Knott jumped up and down, clapping, stamping, looking completely delighted, her little teeth glinting.

“Again! Again! Again!”

“Have you never seen magic before?” he asked incredulously, his heart thumping strangely, almost afraid of the amazement he saw in her eyes. “It’s not a rare sight.”

She gasped. “Was that magic?” 

“What else would it be?” he said, then outstretched a hand and flashes of light sparked on its surface. “It is magic. My magic.”

“It's…!” She searched for words, pressing her little hands to her face in exaltation. “It’s magnificent!”

And then Loki laughed, straight from the bottom of his heart, something swelling his lungs so that he actually felt as though he was breathing, his mouth stretched so wide it made his face ache. She thought he was magnificent! She thought he was great! Loki wasn’t a madman! He was being complimented! Within moments, he had cast away all of his kingly dignity. He crouched down, disappeared with emerald flashes, reappeared in different places with a bang whilst Henrietta Knott turned round and round with feverish pleasure, squealing, gasping, clapping accordingly.

“Got you,” he hissed as he appeared behind her, apparently an evil wizard. “Found you! Now, I will cart you off to prison, to my jail. You will never be able to get out-!”

He made the mistake of crouching down when appearing. Henrietta gave a delighted yell of excitement and threw herself into his arms. They toppled over onto a pile of leaves, destroying it. Loki landed on his back, slightly winded.

“No,” he gasped when he got his breath back, remembering what function he currently fulfilled. “None of that. Get off me.”

But she didn’t. She climbed right on top of him and sat down on his chest, patting his face.

“You won’t lock me into prison now,” she chuckled. “I’m a dragon. I’ve got you instead.”

He looked up at this improbable dragon sitting on his chest and lowered his hands. He didn’t remember the last time he could speak this level of nonsense without having to watch eyes being rolled.

“No, you’re not.” He sighed, folding his hands on top of his stomach, then looked at her with almost fond resignation. “You’re a silly little girl, sitting on top of the god of mischief because he allowed you to do so.”

He pulled a face, raising his eyebrows for emphasis. 

“As soon as I am up, I will lock you into a-” he disappeared in a green flash and reappeared behind her, scooping her up, “-dungeon. And no prince, king, nor warrior will ever be able to… to… to rescue…”

He froze, because Henrietta Knott threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight, still giggling. She didn’t move from that position, nuzzling into the soft of his robes beneath his armour, wriggling to get comfortable against him.

Loki had to swallow several times as he stood there dumbfounded, thoroughly convinced he was sick, because why in all nine realms did he have tears in his eyes? He was a trickster, he wielded daggers, he sowed chaos for his own amusement, he cut off heads and stabbed and slashed and killed. His heart was hard and dead, and yet it hurt, hurt as the small thing plastered to his chest and neck embraced him as though he was a hero.

“No, little girl,” he murmured, when he recollected himself. “Little girls do not hug evil men with… dripping hands and…”

He searched for words. “And horrible souls behind the eye.”

She looked at him, beamed, then kissed him on the cheek.

“I like you, Loki of Asgard.”

Loki abandoned reason. “Oh, hush,” he muttered, his voice cracking, then hugged her back carefully, smoothing her hair as she rested her little head on his shoulder.

He resumed the walk, placing each foot slowly and deftly so that he wouldn’t stumble, so that her yawns would quieten. Within moments, her breathing had regulated and she was completely still.

Loki was glad; sleeping prevented her from seeing the two trails his tears left behind upon his face. If she felt his chest moving up and down from quiet sobs, sobs which had been caged in his chest for years without him knowing, he didn’t know.

“You like me. You like me, do you?” he breathed, when he had walked a few minutes, feeling his soul through that small weight on his chest and shoulder. “A very unwise decision. A very foolish one, sweetheart.”

She stirred in her sleep, mumbling. Loki could have sworn it was a protest, and he smiled, sniffing and swallowing back the lump in his throat.

“If you say so, Henrietta Knott” he whispered, patting her back gently. “Whatever makes you happy.”

Five steps later, he paused and listened, frowning. A voice had echoed through the park. It was a male voice, a cry. Loki knew what a desperate cry sounded like, and that was what he had heard. 

It came again. “Hattie! Oh, Odin… Henrietta!”

Loki didn’t want to shout, for that meant Hattie would wake up, but the cries came again, desperation came again, and so he stopped and replied.

“Here!” he called, feeling the pet stiffen on his shoulder as he startled her awake. “I have her!”

The voice stopped, then sounded again, though with less dismay and lined with hope. “Where?! Where?!”

Loki thought, then snapped his fingers. “The green light!”

The man to whom the voice belonged rushed into the clearing when the green stream of light cleared. He was tall, well built, his arms and chest the ones of a warrior, grey hair hung to his chin and a wild beard was braided down his loosely-clad chest.

“Oh, thank Odin!” he cried, then approached him with haste. “Thank you, Sir, thank you!”

He pulled up short the same moment Henrietta turned and slid out of Loki’s arms, close enough for his features to be observed. His nose was hooked and an intricate, crimson tattoo snaked from his cheek to the left of his forehead.

“My lord,” he managed to utter, before Hattie plastered herself to him with joyful cries of, “Uncle, Uncle!”

“Uncle indeed,” Loki said coldly, sadly realising his arms felt strangely empty. “What uncle forsakes their five-year-old niece at a time like this? In a place like this? Do you realise what could have happened to her, lest she had not come across me?”

He felt his hands clenching, though by all rights he shouldn’t have cared at all. “I hear this happens again, and I’ll personally ensure you’re skewered!”

The man dropped to one knee and bowed his head, though he did not seem afraid. 

“Forgive me, my lord,” he said, then looked up and picked up Henrietta. “Thank Odin she was with you. I thank you for your efforts in delivering her to me. I fear to think what would have happened if you hadn’t found her.”

Loki scoured the man with his gaze, then he nodded in recognition. “It’s you,” he said. “Dauneren Haldanson.”

He gave a single chuckle, watching Henrietta as she slid from his arms and yawned sleepily.

“The banished. The foul. The traitor.”

The man bowed his head again, though he didn’t take his eyes off Hattie as she began to explore the vicinity. “The one who led the jotuns into Asgard, two-hundred years ago.” He smiled sadly. “My word remains the same. I had nothing to do with the incident. The assassination was pulled off as though I had a hand in it, but… well. I didn’t have a hand in it, not that time.”

His eyes flicked to him. “You know as the god of lies, my lord, that I am speaking the truth.”

“You wouldn’t be speaking so freely if you were not,” he replied, glad his tears had dried off and he wasn’t red in the face any longer, then smiled. “But, as they say… who lives by the sword, dies by the sword. Or at least faces torture by sharp objects.”

Haldanson grimaced. “It is so. You make a lot of enemies as an assassin, as unlikely as it may seem.”

“Hah,” Loki laughed, then trained his gaze on Hattie, who had run off to jump in another puddle of water. Haldanson followed his gaze and chuckled.

“I do apologise for any strange things she may have told you, my lord. She is gifted with talents many would kill to possess, but… you know, being only five, she has little idea about tact.”

They watched her, these two treacherous men both fully capable of murder, as Hattie squealed in the puddles, ran up to a tree in which curious squirrels observed her, the creatures probably wondering whether they had found a lost brethren in the dead of night.

“You can imagine what a fright she has given some people, my liege, recounting their darkest sins before their very eyes.” Haldanson scratched his beard and chuckled. “You know, she asks me about mine at least five times daily.”

Loki gave him half a smile. “Must be an interesting life.”

“Oh, very much so. Quite an ordeal. You can’t reason with her, she simply knows better than you.”

Loki felt an odd sort of pride at that statement, even though he had only known this little girl for about half an hour. Haldanson called Hattie over when she attempted to climb the tree to tame the squirrel - she pouted but came, seeing her attempt was futile, then took Haldanson’s hand. Loki wondered whether she could see any black on his hands, as Haldanson was no angel.

“I can,” she replied, making him start. “But Uncle’s hands are less black than yours. He’s already paid. Almost paid. His don’t drip anymore, but yours do.”

Haldanson frowned and looked slightly uncomfortable, but Loki raised his eyebrows and grinned, impressed.

“She can read thoughts?”

“Only if she wants to.” Haldanson scratched his beard again. “I reckon she’ll stop wanting when she grows a little older and begins to understand some of the things she sees. She needs to learn control. The hardest one there is… Don’t you, Hattie?”

Hattie nodded sweetly, twirling around in her yellow boots and pink, fluffy coat, looking at Loki with round, grey eyes.

“Will you walk me to school tomorrow, Loki of Asgard?”

Haldanson spluttered at her outrightness, astonished. 

“Now, Hattie,” he managed after a few seconds, “the prince of Asgard is very busy and has much more important things to do than walking little girls to school.”

Hattie pursed her lips. “Loki is the king of Asgard, Uncle.”

Haldanson looked perplexed, glanced at Loki, who looked back coolly, then when he gave no countering statement, his eyes widened and he bowed a little frantically with a hand on his breast.

“Well, I had no idea,” he managed. “Last time I was in Asgard you were a prince, my Lord-”

“But can he walk me to school?” Henrietta tugged on her uncle’s sleeve impatiently. “I don’t like Doris, she smells of cat and doesn’t like me, and you’re always very busy, uncle, and-”

“It’s alright,” Loki said, looking down at her with a smile - so many smiles in such a short space of time which weren’t a mask, an admirable record. “I will consider.”

“Oh, fantastic!” Hattie laughed and clapped her hands and beamed at him, making his chest swell and want to scoop her up and press her to his chest again. “I would love to look at your sparks again!”

Loki laughed and shook his head. “And I thought she was a simple mortal creature.”

“She is from Asgard, like you, my king,” Haldanson bowed his head, still looking slightly nervous. “And far too sure of herself for her own safety. Well. We’ll be off home. It’s getting late. It was an honour to meet you, my lord.”

Loki inclined his head as Haldanson bowed, then raised a finger as he urged Hattie to do the same.

“No,” he said, motioning for her to stand. “She doesn’t need to bow to me.”

Hattie laughed as Haldanson nodded weakly, then she sprang forward and clasped him. 

“Goodbye, Loki of Asgard. I can’t wait to see you again.”

“I will come,” he promised, bending down. “If not tomorrow, then after that.”

He wouldn’t need to be told twice. Not even once. Not when she was staring up at him as though she was really glad to see him, as though he had the power to turn her day into something bright and warm with his cold, jotun hands which could only destroy and consume.

“Good,” she said, then reached up to hold his cheeks. “Good, good, good.”

He gently took her hands away before he had any strange spells again, swallowing. “Off you go, now.”

“Okay.” She patted his cheek, then flew back to her uncle and grabbed his hand. Haldanson nodded in reply to Loki’s look, bowed again for good measure, then picked Hattie up and turned.

Loki watched them disappear into the dark, raising a hand in farewell when Henrietta waved at him.

He stood there long in the dark, looking up at the sky.

Your hands are black. It’s blood. Of the people you’ve hurt.

Loki lifted his hands up to his face, squinting, but of course, he couldn’t see anything amiss. There were quite a few white scars running over his flesh from battle and feuds, but other than that they were as pale and slender as ever.

“Don’t be a fool,” he muttered, letting them drop. “It’s just a childish fancy.”

This childish fancy, however, left an impact upon him that only the next few years could tear from his soul, because it was only when Loki was back in Asgard, in his own empty, royal chambers did he realise that he was clutching the material of his clothes just above his heart, where Henrietta had slept, with a strange obstinacy and longing.

He sank down onto his bed with a sigh, trying to remember what it had felt like to hold someone who trusted him and… liked him. Not because they had to, but because they chose to.

But he was in too deep. He had set things in motion with Thor’s banishment to Midgard which he couldn’t undo, and had to give up hoping for warmth and succumb back to the cold he couldn’t survive without.

And he knew not that in a span of time insignificant to someone of his lifespan, he would become a traitor, that he would fall of Bifrost bridge upon realising that there was no place for him in Asgard, running from shame and Odin’s - his once-father’s - indifferent face, who watched him fall without blinking. That he would become unrecognisably twisted, that he would suffer agony beyond his imagination, that he would lose the trust of the one being who he treasured beyond all.

Though, what happened following that was something he wouldn’t have expected from any pages fate had written for him and if you asked him, he would have looked you in the eyes and solemnly replied that he was undeserving of a moment of it.

~~~*~*~*~~~

That's the first chapter! As always, feedback is appreciated!

[applescorner]

hii, welcome to apple's corner. my name is apple, and this is your insiders guide to the yays, nays, and rules of my little corner of the universe.

i write ONLY (for now) fluff, one shots / peices, drabbles, request you can ask me anything on there ASLONG AS IT'S NOT INAPPROPRIATE OR INVASIVE ♡. ).

{ i don't write tons smut or lots of sexual post because I miss reading about men yearning, mutual pinning, desperate for touch, smell and taste of the women they're in love with . so i wanna bring that back. and i know there are tons of girls who want as well, i see ya'll}

❧🎸✮♫𖦹ִ ࣪💌☙

fun facts !

- pronouns : she/her/hers

- afro - latina, american

- fav music : pop, rap, country, country pop, contemporary r&b, dance hall, hyper pop, dance pop & edm

- fav music artist : gracie abrams, erkyah badu, taylor swift, beyonce, cleo sol, HER, daniel ceaser, tate mcrae, britney spears and ariana grande

- quote living by right now : "move your body like you love it (i love to dance)

- i have a chiweenie mix her name's belle and she's two years old

✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧✮

here in my libary, you will read about the various fandoms that i love and write for

• batman & / batman family (jason todd, dick grayson & tim drake )

• marvel : any male characters

• avengers- bucky, steve rodgers, tony stark, bruce banner, clint , thor, loki, quicksilver, etc....

• ALL x-men (male only !)

• harry potter

• oc's sometimes

• will add future fandoms

for female characters, I write only about female friendships, platonic love & scenarios. I am not homophoic. I just prefer not to write about these things.

as for y/n OR (insert character x reader ). Y/N will be typically female, she is black, tall, curvy, smart and has tons of intrest. there are not enough black female Y/N's for me nor young women like me. She has no set personality or type, she truly is a barbie you fill with your own life.

i've been writing on tumblr for about four years it's been so fun, i haven't done it in a about a year but i wanna start again so here we are.

click the, fly to the apple tree for request send me stories, chit chat, whatever <3, I love doing story request so much the're pretty challenging and i've got some down time so

mwah, apple ✨️.

[wandering-panacea-artblog]

Mega Man X AU OC: Solfeggio (DCRN-α1)

Name: Solfeggio

Model: DCRN-α1(Doctor Cain Reploid Number-Alpha 1) Prototype Reploid; Formely NWN-001(New Wily Number-001) Robot Master

Alias: First Reploid, Alpha, Solfeggio, Ra-Thor

Nicknames: Sol, Jo

Birth: 25 June

Age: 18(Mentaly)/100+(Actual Age)

Gender: Male

Hair Colour: Blond with three dirty Gold streaks of hair

Eye Colour: Pale Gold

Height: 1,70 cm

Species: Hybrid(Reploid/Robot Master/Yellow Devil(Ra Devil) made from Alien technology)

Family:

Doctor Nicolas Cain/Doctor Cain(Adoptive Father/Creator)

X (Adoptive Brother/Donor)

Doctor Wily(Father/Creator)

Ra-Moon(Father/Tecnological template)

Ra-Devil(Sibling?)

Forte/Bass(Younger Brother/Succesor)

Zero(Younger Brother/Successor)

Wily's Numbers/Robot Masters(Older and Younger Siblings)

Story Summary:

Mega Man Series:

Originaly a thoughless Robot Master name Ra-Thor, he was created by Doctor Wily by using alien technology found from the ancient Temple of the Moon in the Amazon Rainforest to destroy Mega Man. Ra-Thorand Ra-Moon waken up two weeks after their defeat and destruction of the temple, his body was wrecked and busted and Ra-Moon was only a small brain module/processor, in order to survive he absorbed the remains of Ra Devil to stand up and ate of Ra-Moon's processor and got back to sleep.

Mega Man X Series:

100 years later he woke up a second time a month before the discovery of X by Doctor Cain and he was found two months later by said android and man in the rainforest, they brought him back to civilization and Doctor Cain made a new body and changed his name from Ra-Thor to Solfeggio and became the first know Reploid to ever be created.

Abilities:

His abilities are similar to Venom's after absorbing Ra Devil, he can shoot "webs", wall crawl, and sense danger(spider-sense), he has super strength(lift up to 70 tons), durabilty and stamina, he can regenerate parts of his body and shape swift, unlike Venom he is is mune to fire and sonic attacks.

He also developed a keen sense smell and hearing.

Weaknesses:

He has weakness to Electricity. In Super Adventure Rockman as Ra Thor he is weak to Spark Man's Spark Shock.

Biology:

After absorbing Ra Devil, he has developed the ability to eat organic stubstance(meat, vegetables, fruit etc) and drink. 

For uknown reason he can't drink E Tanks (which are used for Reploids) and they make him feel sick and puke, he can regain his energy by drinking human energy drinks. Humans and other reploids are unaware of this, only Doctor Cain, X and few close people(Sigma is unaware, Zero learns in later period of time).

He can cry black tears and he bleeds black "blood"(goob). This is also is hidden from the others(Also Sigma is Unaware and Zero learns in a later period of time).

Name Etymology:

Solfeggio is Italian for solfege derive from the names of two of the syllables used: sol and fa. 

The generic term "solmization", referring to any system of denoting pitches of a musical scale by syllables, including those used in India and Japan as well as solfège, comes from French solmisation, from the Latin solfège syllables sol and mi. 

The verb "to sol-fa" means to sing the solfège syllables of a passage (as opposed to singing the lyrics, humming, etc).

(I took it from wikipedia)

Trivia:

After Sigma becomes Maverick from Mega Man X2 to Mega Man X4 he becomes the new commander of the Maverick Hunters.

He and Zero don't know they are brothers.

He is a fusion of Ra-Thor and Alpha (the first reploid) from the novel Rockman X the Irregular Report

[goddess-mixmi]

Felt like indulging on some oc x cannon for my marvel oc.

She has quite a few romantic interests during the course of the marvel cinematic universe, one of which is Bucky Barnes. She met him when he was the Winter Soldier and after he was accused of killing king T’Chaka she convinced T’Challa to let them use the resources they have in Wakanda to help Bucky. And after that they became quite good friends during his stay in Wakanda. That led to Bucky growing small feelings for her from her kindness, but Imani on the other hand hadn’t been fully aware of it especially with her soon meeting Killmonger and afterwards causing a distance between them.

Despite her not knowing how he felt right away the two felt at ease in each other’s presence. There relationship progresses even more after the events of Endgame into The Falcon and The Winter Soldier, I just need to write more about it first.