#comfort loki fic
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Darling.
Loki x reader — sick!fic, established relantionship.
No warnings, just fluff and comfort.
Loki takes care of you when you're sick and makes sure you feel better. He's really soft.
“I feel disgusting,” you say. The words coming out slurred as you struggled to breathe with your congested nose.
“Darling?” Loki asks, concerned. “Can I do anything to help?”
You don't want him to see you like this, in fact, you've been trying to ignore your sickness for a long time.
You feel useless, you don't want to exist, the only acceptable thing to your mind is the thought of going to sleep, the aching pressure around your eyes begs to be closed. You're almost crying from shame.
“Darling,” Loki reaches around you, embracing his arms around your figure, even as you protest, he lifts you up in his arms. “You can't work like this. I know you're sick.” He watches your puffy face, all due to your crying and sneezing.
“No, I'm not, I'm okay,” your voice rough as you lie, fighting not to cough with your pained throat. “I'm not sick, I can do things just fine.”
He still keeps you there, now making sure your face rests against his shoulder as he takes you to the kitchen, already preparing some tea for you two.
“Have you taken some medicine?” He asks and you keep your face hidden, ignoring the question. “You didn't?
“Don't be mad…” You begin.
“Why would I be mad, darling? Why would you not take your meds?”
“I don't wanna be sick, and I didn't know which ones to take, I took a pill but it didn't have any effect so I thought I'd just wait some more.” You're scared you'll sound pathetic to that, but Loki only rubs your back gently.
Loki could sense the effort it took for you to talk, he keeps a concerned look on you as you only rest further to his chest.
This is better, he thinks. She's accepting my help. My love.
Loki had a secret under his sleeve that could work, he could apply his healing magic to your tea — the magic his mother would give to both him and Thor when they got sick, on their younger days, the spell she taught him.
He remembers those days with nostalgic care, he keeps them in the depths of his heart for when his mind needs some kind memories, these parts are specially occupied with you, now. He misses his mother, but he can express the love he received in a new way.
You're shivering under his hands, so he conjures your fluffy, heavy blanket for you, covering you till your neck.
He makes a mental reminder to prepare a warm bath as it's early in the evening, it'd help you feel better, and then he'd make sure you wear some warm clothes so you don't get any fevers.
“Love?” He asks you, your eyes are fighting to stay open but they're moist with tears from the cold.
“Can't breathe,” you whine a bit in pain, closing your eyes and trying to rest but feeling the strong pang in your head.
“I'll make it feel better, love. I'm here,” He tells you, giving you a kiss. He was glad your temperature was normal as he felt it against his skin.
You cringe as his lips touch yours. “Don't kiss me… I'm gross,” your voice goes whinier than you wish for again, which he finds adorable.
“You can't pass me anything, my love. I'm a frost giant, I wouldn't get sick with mortal germs.” He gives you a kiss again.
“But I'm still gross though.”
“I could never find you anything close to gross, when I see you like this, I only wish to nurture you back to health, and make sure you're safe and loved, just as you deserve.” You try to hide your smile against his chest now, he can feel it, and it makes him beam with pride at making you feel a little better. “I hate to see you unwell.”
The tea is ready, he turns your body a little in his arms so you're facing the teapot as he makes two cups for both of you.
He makes sure you see the green sparkles leaving his hands as he puts your tea.
“I hope I'm making this right,” he blushes. “It's the spell our mother would pour on our teas when we were children, Thor thought it was disgusting.”
“Very good, really,” you joke around, smiling at him. “One of the few opinions I have, and little Thor thought it was disgusting.”
Loki gives you a tight lipped smile, but still smiles with his eyes too. He shakes his head.
“I think the magic is flavorless, the problem was just that Thor never really liked tea, and we just discovered a long time after,” he smiles at you. “So, my love, as I know you like this tea, I make sure everything is safe and good to your tastes.” He chuckles and you feel his chest move with the sound.
So you stay there, in his arms, watching his magic with a certain wonder, you'd never tire from this, he always loves the way you look at his magic, the way you look at him. It was never about the magic powers he carries, but the way you're the only person to look at him while he does it and appreciate him, just him, you like it when he does anything, you're the only one to look at him with this clear admiration your eyes always hold for him.
He quietly begins to hum a song for your ears, carrying you to the couch.
You move to take the tea and drink it.
Loki touches your temple, he makes his fingers blue and —consequently, a little colder, just enough for your body to accept, reaching your forehead and keeping it there as you sip your tea.
He notices you're going quieter, just appreciating his acts, not really forcing yourself to speak anymore. He's glad, it makes him happy to see your body sliding slightly closer to him with each sip, probably almost too sleepy to notice.
He conjures you the correct medicine, and you take it. With him kissing your forehead as you do so, like a little reward.
“I'd never shame you for being sick, you know,” He says, breaking the silence of the room. “I never want to see you feeling like you can't tell me again, even as your body starts to feel weak, even if the symptoms are just starting, tell me.”
“I will. I'm sorry.”
“I'm not mad,” he reinforces, quickly booping your nose, gently smiling at you. You stay quiet, he accepts that.
“How about a bath now?” The tea was warm like a balm to your throat.
You don't respond but complain with sounds of disapproval at having to move from the comfort of the couch, from under the cozy blanket.
“You'll feel better,” he comforts you, caressing your skin as he speaks in a low tone so as not to hurt your head. “I promise, just trust me.”
He wraps his strong arms around your legs to push your entire body close to his, gluing you to him as he calmly princess-carries you to the bathroom. Patiently taking the time to hold you as he magically —to be quicker— makes the water warm enough for you and your tired body.
He helps you through the bath, bringing some things to make the bath time more relaxing like different soaps and a pink bath bomb.
“Bath bomb?” You laugh a little, glad the stinging in your head stopped a bit. You point to the product he held.
“It's fun, and I'm not used to these midgardian bath entertainments.” He gives you a kind smile and allows the comfort to surround you two as you take the bath together.
He carefully washes your hair for you, massaging your scalp, hoping to show all his love through his fingertips and gentle caresses.
He moves down to your shoulders, your neck, pressing a bit harder in certain spots, then he slides down to your back with tender care. You hold your breath, and leave some moans of delight as your aching body feels the blessed touch.
“Are you feeling better, love?” He asks, you hum to agree, not wanting to ruin the moment. He muffles a laugh and keeps his loving touches.
Loki runs his hands across the other parts of your body with extra patience and passion, ignoring how sexual it could seem, he knows you're not wishing for it now. He still keeps a longer time washing you, and pressing his hands on your breasts, your chest, your stomach. Brushing among your thighs, anywhere he could show his love and feel your skin close to his.
He kisses your jawline, and moves your head a little to kiss you. The whole time was filled with loving little kisses, some all across your face, some on your lips as he couldn't have enough of your mouth, or enough of you.
The bath makes you feel clean and relaxed, you're allowing yourself to finally succumb to the peaceful affection he's showing you. It's almost overwhelming, you never thought you could have something like this, neither did he.
When the bath's over, Loki exits first to grab a fluffy, dry towel to wrap your body on. You got up and he immediately wrapped you in so you wouldn't face the brutal chilly air of getting out of the bath.
He takes you to the bedroom, your clothes are already on the bed. You tremble to think of removing the towel and facing the cold, but Loki makes sure that doesn't happen.
He puts you on a cozy green sweater, kissing your clothed chest as he's finished. Matching the sweater, he puts on you some warm pajama pants, then proceeds to kiss your stomach.
He puts your socks on you, and gives a kiss to each of your ankles, almost reverently. Looking up at you with wonder, rubbing your legs. You almost weep at the sight, feeling overly emotional.
After he's sure you're warm, he lets you decide on what to do next. You just want to sleep.
He turns off the lights of the house, and dims the one by the bedside table. He reaches for his book, this is one he's been reading without you, he thinks it's a bit too uninteresting to be shared, but now it might fit perfectly for the purpose of getting you to sleep.
You two created a habit of sharing your stories together, you love to sit around while he just reads for you. And whenever you read a story you really like, you get extra giddy to tell him every single detail about it, he loves it when you do so.
He knows how much you love his voice, and in moments like this, in which you need less loud noises, you can't help but pay even more attention to how soft his voice is as he speaks. You could listen to it for days, and thankfully, you can really listen to it all day, for days, he's yours.
He cozies you two under the sheets, the only light being the one by his side, so he can read to you, he makes sure it doesn't bother your eyes.
He holds your body on top of his, keeping a light hold not to pressure your skin, allowing you to rest your head on his neck, unbothered by the little sniffles of the remains of your sickness. He'll make sure to check some more spells later —unharming to humans, to be certain you get even better health soon after you drift off to sleep.
“I love you,” you say. He stiffens a little because it comes unexpectedly, then he relaxes. After all this time, Loki's still unused to these words.
He still gets surprised.
His expression softens and he can only hope you feel all the love radiating off of him.
“I love you, darling. Now rest, you'll feel better as soon as you wake up.”
He begins reading to you from where he stopped, taking pauses a few times to explain some details to you, quietly. You pay attention to the sound of his voice, and his chest moving under you with each word he speaks, until you drift off to a comfortable night of sleep.
This is my apology for not having posted anything this week because I, once again, got sick, so I wrote this! Oh to have a Loki taking care of me.
I hope it can bring some comfort to you all!
Taglist: @mischief2sarawr @dangertoozmanykids101 (I don't know if it's ok to tag in a sick!fic but it's ok if you don't feel comfortable with it ♡)
#loki laufeyson#loki#loki x reader#loki x you#loki fanfic#loki and reader#loki laufeyson x reader#soft!loki#soft loki#comfort fic#comfort loki fic#sick reader#sick!fic#loki fluff
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AO3 writers when canon sucks:
#loki#ao3#archive of our own#blorbo#writeblr#writing#writer#writing community#comfort character#writing challenge#writing inspiration#writing inspo#whump#fandoms#fandom#fix-it fic#fanfic#fanfiction#whumpblr#angst#whump community#writers#fanfic writing#fanfic writer#writers on ao3
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Don't leave me... I'll stay (Loki)
Summary: After an argument causes a rift between Loki and Y/N, the day is spent ignoring the other until Y/N decides to spend the night away from Loki.
Warning: Angst? i dunno what else to put in but angst eheheh. long maybe? this is a very long fic eheheh. ohh and another thing is that this may be prone to mistakes as i dont have anybody to proof this so... ehehhe
Note: eheheeh the liar has finally posted what was promised, precisely a month late or later. eheheh sorry to those who waited, school has taken a lot of my time, I barely open my laptop to work and im rarely here anymore but i've got until the monday off so lets see what i'll do with that eheheh
The context is vague, I apologize but i am complete rubbish at this. at everything really, including writing so eheheh. To those brave souls that braved this whole thing, Thank you! so very deeply, from the bottom of my heart for even showing the slightest bit of interest in my rubbish ideas. Hope you like it and im stopping myself from going any further and prolonging this intro ehehhe, Enjoy!😊
‘No Loki! Just because I have this disease, doesn’t mean you have the right to keep me locked up like some sort of china. I am able to do just about everything I could before I told you and you have no right telling me what I can or cannot do’ you countered his argument but being stubborn, neither of you relented nor ceased.
You were now second guessing whether it was right or not, telling him about the chronic illness you were diagnosed with, but you knew that you did the right thing if you wanted this relationship to have a good foundation. The reaction however… was not how you thought things would go.
It was simple at first. Barely noticeable and could have been mistaken as added doting to his already caring nature with you but overtime, it became more and more obvious how he was setting up these restrictions you never would have agreed on. It only grew ridiculous, and you would have allowed the passive ones, but this was the final straw.
Your patience had worn thin over the entirety of the argument however, as comments grew more rash and the final ‘disapproval’ of your oncoming task was remarked, you snapped. He had no right to restrict you of activities and tasks he thinks are too much for your condition and it only insulted and hurt you to think that he thought you so frail and weak that even simple chores were too much.
‘I am going on this mission, whether you “approve” or not, because just telling you was out of courtesy. I refuse to be told of my restrictions by anyone besides myself. I would have understood your concerns if the situation were more grave, but for the love of God, it’s a simple data extraction.’ You exasperated, growing tired of fighting about something you know he won’t fold on.
‘In an abandoned Hydra base!’ he pointed out, choosing not to acknowledge how you outright dismissed his concern, no matter how much it hurt. ‘You know of the dangers that lurk in those retched lairs and often times there are still those who patrol the premises. You do remember when Rogers and Romanoff were attacked during their little escapade in Camp Leigh, do you not?’
‘Of course, I remember, I’m not a moron’ you snide, glaring daggers at the raven-haired god and you were just about to justify how Barnes was going with you however the comment he let out was the final pull on the thinned thread.
‘Well, you certainly are acting like one’ he mumbled without thinking, turning away. He thought it was low enough so you wouldn’t hear but he thought wrong.
‘I beg your pardon?!’ you all but screeched out of fury. Loki flinched before he turned at the high pitch and fury, he heard from you. He saw the outraged his comment caused in your eyes. The fire that burned in those beautiful orbs of yours was terrifying however, what truly frightened him was how you took a breath, calming yourself and before he could so much as apologize, rolled your eyes and turned away.
‘I’m done’ you raised your hands in surrender, turning your back to him.
‘What do you mean you’re done?’ he asked as fear of losing you threatened his being. You mean everything to him and just the very thought of losing you and him being the very reason you were gone… it opened a holocaust in his mind.
‘This conversation, I am done. I’m ending it before either of us say something or does more damage that there already is’ you yield, busying yourself with tidying up the files you had splayed out all over the floor.
Relief flooded his senses before guilt quickly bore fruit.
He watched as you packed up your work and strode out of the room. It took him a minute, but he followed you out and once he finally reached the living room, he met the sight of you slipping on your trainers and throwing your gadgets, wallet and keys in your bag before moving to the door and slamming it shut.
He stood frozen in the threshold of the hall as he processed what happened. All he wanted was to keep you safe. Never did he think that things would go this bad.
You stormed out of the flat and went to the compound for the briefing you had with Bucky. It was scheduled for tomorrow, but you just could not stay in the flat, not with him, not at the moment. You needed a cool head and quite frankly, yours was blazing.
You called Barnes to reschedule, which he agreed to but before he could ask why, you had already hung up. You needed to calm down, seriously.
You took a scenic route around the city before heading to the facility. You parked at the car park and turned off the vehicle before you let your head fall on the steering wheel. Loki’s’ words really stung but in his own way, you knew he meant well. He loved you but it felt demeaning to be confined to one place or to be babied. You are a grown woman; this disease may affect you in some way but you wouldn’t let it define and control your life like its slowly doing to Loki.
You took your phone to look at the time and was greeted with lock screen background of you and Loki cuddling, fast asleep. Someone from the team took the picture to spite Loki but you found it adorable and set it on your phone. It brought a small grin to your lips until you got a message from Barnes saying which conference room was being used for the quick briefing. You sighed, taking your bag before exiting the car and heading in the building.
The briefing was quick. Only about the layout of the base, where to go and what to take. You were in and out in possibly ten minutes, but you longed for it to be longer. You didn’t want to go home yet so you stayed for a chat with the others, talking to Wanda about her relationship, discussing with Bruce the project he was working on before you went and left with a goodbye, heading for the shops for dinner prep and a bit of groceries, taking your time in each aisle to pass the minute until you really had to go home.
Loki had texted Thor after you left, asking if you were at the compound. It took a bit for his brother to respond but eventually he replied with ‘Barnes says she’s on her way for a meeting’. He felt relieved to at least know where you are, knowing you were safe and not alone somewhere.
Hours passed until he heard your keys on the front door, the metal snake keychain giving a distinct clink with the rest of your keys. He looked to the door from where he sat on the living room, watching as you trudged in the brown bags of groceries. You kicked the door closed and placed the bags in the kitchen bench, never sparing him a look. He could sense that you didn’t want to be around him, he could always sense it. He’s had years of experience with being ignored nor wanted. He knew when to take his leave, so he left for the bedroom, never sparing you a sound of his departure.
You saw Loki on the chaise when you walked in. You blatantly ignored him, but he was on the couch. The only indication you got that he left was when you heard the bedroom door close. You were fixing everything you had bought to the cupboards and the pantry when you just heard the soft click of the door closing. You felt bad with how distant you two were being but what stung more is that he couldn’t bear to be in the same room as you that he had to leave. You wanted to make things right. You were thinking of things to say as you put away the vegetables, but he seemed to want the opposite.
You put everything away and started making supper, finishing an hour or two later. Loki still hasn’t left the bedroom, though you did hear the shower run a few minutes prior, so you ate by yourself, wallowing in your thoughts about the mission and Loki.
Your bowl was half gone when he emerged from the room and moved to where you were eating on the table. You had prepared him a bowl, which now sat at the other end of the table. You weren’t talking to each other, but you still care and love him. The soup had gone a bit cold, but it was there, and he sat and ate it anyways.
Both of you stayed silent, neither breaking the silence as the tension grew thick. You quickly finished the rest of your meal before standing abruptly to start cleaning up. You let the bowl rinse and soak in the sink while you stored the leftovers in a container and to the fridge. You had put more than enough on his bowl, so you were sure he wouldn’t be asking for seconds. You quickly washed the dishes whilst he ate while reading his book. He was nearly done when you left the kitchen and proceeded to the bathroom.
He let out a sigh and dropped his book when he heard the shower running. He has been staring at the very same paragraph over and over but not once has he actually paid attention to the text let alone understood it. He was hoping to break the ice between you two, but he froze, missing his chance.
He rinsed his own dish and made sure everything was good and locked up before he went back to the bedroom, preparing to go to bed.
You came out a few minutes later, steam billowing from the ensuite and following you. Your hair was wrapped up in a towel, your body clad in the oversized jumper you adored, with a nightie underneath. You still refused to acknowledge him as you made your way to the closet, grabbing a spare comforter.
This got Loki’s attention and was what broke the silence of the room, really the silence you have both established since the argument earlier.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked as he stopped fluffing the pillow in his hold. Your pillow.
‘I have a few case files to read and paperwork to do so… I’m staying in the living room’ you stated, hardly with any emotion, tugging at the comforter from the top shelf.
‘And the need for a blanket?’ he questioned again, looking over your well bundled figure. The sweater you had was thick and big enough to cover your legs if you were truly that cold, he knew that and the fact that you only use blankets whenever you were going to sleep.
‘It’s likely I’ll fall asleep on the couch so I’m preparing for the inevitable. To put it bluntly, I’m sleeping on the couch’ you say, finally turning around to see him holding your pillow before you moved to leave the room.
All Loki could do was nod, clenching his jaw as his hands dropped your pillow and watch as you left the room. He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t will his lips to move in protest and just accepted what was going to happen. He didn’t want to force you seeing how that went earlier, so he let it… you, go do what you wish. He didn’t want to lose you and he’d do anything and everything to avoid that.
He got cleaned up in the bathroom before he went to bed. He couldn’t sleep and for hours he’s spent it staring up at the ceiling. Once he'd learned to sleep with you by his side, it was harder now to do so without you and the lingering thoughts of your fight earlier kept him company.
It took a while before the fatigue finally succumbed to him, his mind too tired to do anything that it finally forfeited and let him rest.
You on the other hand, haven’t slept at all. Not a wink of it. You spent a bit writing up some reports and looking over at some case files but after you found that you couldn’t focus, you packed everything up and tried to get some sleep. Tried. You really did but as tired as your body was, your mind worked wonders in keeping you up.
The fight you had was your fore thought, mainly the look in Loki’s eyes when you said you weren’t sleeping in the same room as him. He always tried to look impassive in front of others but with you, his eyes held so many expressions of love and adoration, you saw none of that as he held your pillow.
You felt bad leaving him alone. The gesture alone of fixing your side of the bed was heart-warming, that it made you feel like a monster when you saw the look he gave you. Of absolute disappointment? It wasn’t the right word, but you felt like you took the one good thing he had and crushed it in front of him.
You tried to stave off such thoughts, thinking of your task for tomorrow and such but it wasn’t any use. Your mind was going miles per minute, and you just couldn’t keep up. You stayed on the couch for hours, laying on the furniture as your eyes stayed transfixed on a spiderweb on the ceiling. You grew restless overtime so the idea of making tea came to mind.
You thought it a good idea for a cup to help you, so you finally got up. You took the towel you used from the coffee table and hung it on a chair as you turned the kettle on. You grabbed a cup from the drying rack and dropped the bag of chamomile you got from the jar, as you waited for the water to boil.
It was then you heard a whimper. It came fast and low, you were beginning to think that you imagined it when you heard it again. You left the cup sitting on the counter as you went to investigate, looking all around the open space of the flat until it finally registered to you that it was coming from the bedroom.
Loki…
Fast steps quickly took you to the door of the room, which was left open and from where you stood, you heard his cries clearly. The room, gloomy when you entered had scarcely any light. The only source came from the dim lighting from the hall and the sliver of moonlight seeping through the curtains, but it was enough to help you at least see figures.
You moved to the general area of where the bed was and there you saw his figure, trembling slightly. From what you saw as your eyes further adjusted to the darkness, he laid on his side, his shirt damp with sweat, his face glistening and his hair sticking all over his neck and cheeks. He had a pillow in his hold, his head buried in the cushion, but the muffled whines and whimpers still persisted to reach your ears. It was your pillow.
It had been a long while since these terrible nightmares have plagued his nights. The last was far too long ago you hardly remembered it anymore. You remember how he once told you about it having something to do with you sleeping by his side. That something about you just calmed him and made his mind come to a peaceful state. The guilt you felt increased tenfold as the regret of leaving him alone ate you alive. You didn’t… you don’t… you couldn’t have imagined how much you had helped him without even realizing and now leaving him to his own devices… you felt like a pompous prick.
You sped to his side, whispering his name in hopes to arouse him but it proved to be futile.
You sat beside him, turning to the side to face figure. A finger reached to tuck the damp locks behinds his ears as you whispered his name again, hoping to get through his thoughts but it still wasn’t working. Your hands moved to cradle the side of his face, your thumb caressing his cheek in hopes to stir him as you continued to say his name.
‘Loki’ you said softly, knowing using any other tone or pitch would only frighten him further. You moved your head next to his, your body twisted in an awkward position, but you couldn’t care less. You continued to whisper his name close to his ear, your thumbs caressing those sharp angled cheeks until he finally stirred.
You felt it. That light shake of his head as he finally starts rouse, as if shaking off fatigue and merciless thoughts that haunted his mind. You pulled away a bit to see him properly, wiping the beads of sweat that coated most of his forehead with the sleeve of your jumper as your other hand continued their gentle caress on his cheeks. He had a furrow that pulled his brows together and normally you would have found it adorable but right now you only hoped to remove it.
He blinked slowly, gathering his bearings to check if he was truly out of the agonizing torment his mind had conjured. He was losing you. It was scene after scene of ways he loses you and all of it was his fault. From you leaving him after an argument, to the image of the mad titan snapping your neck in his grasp as he watched. Each scenario broke him in every way, and he just couldn’t bare it.
The sight was still fresh in his mind as he finally started to ebb away from the drowse of sleep. Then as panic set him as he realized and processed what had happened, he didn’t notice the soft whisper of his name or the caress of your delicate fingers. He was on the verge of complete panic, tears welling up his eyes when he felt it. You.
Your voice. You touch. Your scent. Everything. It all enveloped him to the point It became overwhelming, but he wanted it. To suffocate in everything you, to banish those horrid thoughts away.
‘y/n?’ he whispered meekly, still questioning whether he was still in the throughs of his nightmare.
‘I’m here, It’s okay. It’s just a nightmare’ you replied as tears started to pour from his eyes and cascade down his cheeks.
‘I’m sorry, I-I’m sorry, p-please don’t leave me’ he heaved, his voice shaking with every word, it broke your heart to hear him so broken. His arms moved to wrap around you, having a tight hold on your waist, leaving the pillow, as he wept.
You could only do so much to keep your own tears at bay, but you managed to stay strong. Your fingers wiped much of the tears, but they only continued to flow so you pulled him in to hide in the crook of your neck.
‘Shhh darling. It’s alright, I’m here, I promise’ you said in his ear, knowing his cries would only muffle his hearing. He cried and cried, apologizing just as much in between but you still dismissed every single one.
‘Shhhh, you’re okay darling. It’s only a nightmare, it’s alright’ you moved your body to lay on the bed fully, settling beside him comfortably as you held him tight. Your fingers weaved through his obsidian locks, scratching his scalp in hopes to console and comfort him in anyway as he continued to heave on the crook of your neck.
It broke your heart to see him like this. Frightened to the bone like a little boy, shivering as if dunk in the oceans of the arctic. All those years of suffering topped his insecurities and the lack assurance and consoling care throughout most of his life… of course he was afraid. Of the possibilities this life held. He’d seen the worst parts of it, of course id be difficult to peer outside that little protective box he hid in. And your argument certainly didn’t help matters.
He cried for a while and you let him. Bare his vulnerability to you and it was your honour to be shown this fragile part of him. You’d treasure the trust he had in you, to keep him safe in times like these. You wouldn’t let anything happen to him, especially like this. You love him too much.
He calmed down after a little while, still letting out soft sniffs and whimpers every once and a while, but he had calmed down. You placed a soft kiss on his temple, an assurance of sorts before pulling back to face him but his grip only tightened, a whine escaping his lips as he hid himself further in the safety of your hair.
He didn’t want you to pull away for fear of you having enough of him, but he wouldn’t have it. He couldn’t.
You hushed him softly, running a hand through his inky locks and caressing his scalp, assuring him you weren’t going anywhere and only meant to talk to him. He was reluctant but he gave in, nodding the slightest bit before pulling away to face you.
His face was red, eyes bloodshot and puffy around the eyelids, looking down and anywhere but at you. Streaks of tears, dry and fresh cascaded down his sharp features, causing his unruly hair to stick. The look he gave you completely broke your heart, rendering it to mush whilst he had the decency to look so heartbroken.
You kept your composure as a finger swiped a way those stray locks, tucking it behind his ear before he nuzzled in the warms of your palm. Your thumb glided along the prominent angle of his zygoma, brushing away whatever moisture was left until you tilted his head up, by the chin, to look at you. His beautiful emerald eyes shimmered with unshed tears however he still won’t look you in the eyes.
‘Loki’ his name came off your lips in a soft whisper, finally grabbing his attention. Now that you finally had it though, all words seem to have left you, your thoughts drawing blank. A sigh left your lips as you let your head drop to his, your foreheads pressed together as you closed your eyes.
‘I’m sorry’ you said blankly, your hand rising to come through his locks and to scratch his scalp. Whether it was for his comfort or your distraction, you wouldn’t know.
He shook his head, dismissing your apology. Half of him didn’t know what you were apologizing for yet the other had an idea as to what, and even if it truly was what you were thinking, he knew that it was his fault.
‘No, don’t apologize. It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have treated you as such, but please darling, forgive me. I cannot lose you, please. Don’t… don’t leave me’ he practically begged. He really couldn’t lose you. He just wouldn’t know what to do if he did, but he just knows he won’t survive it.
‘No, I must apologize’ you argued, continuing on before he could cut you off ‘My actions weren’t acceptable, but Loki… We cannot keep going on like this. I am my own person, I refuse to told what to do, let alone what I can’t. I refuse to be caged in the four walls of this flat like some treasured bird, I’m not. I will not be restrained. By some illness nor God or man. This won’t work if that is what you want’.
‘I know, I know. I-It’s not, It’s not what I want. I’m sorry but darling, I just can’t lose you. I can’t. I won’t survive it. Please, I won’t do it again, just please don’t leave me.’ He sobbed, dropping his head back down the crook of your neck and he held you in a tight embrace. You understood what he meant; you don’t think you could survive losing him too.
‘I won’t. I’m not leaving you. I would never. I'm staying’ You affirmed. You really wouldn’t, but you won’t stand being coddled to the brim.
You held on to each other tightly for a while. Just letting the others presence calm one another. Loki hidden in the arch of your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist, while you laid your head on top of his, a hand mindlessly raking trough his gorgeous locks. It proved to be comforting for the both of you, evidently.
‘I only meant to protect you’ he mumbled with a sniff out of nowhere.
‘I understand, my love. And the best I could do is promise to be safe and extra careful. I won’t take too risky missions if that gives you a peace of mind.’ You offered. You knew he only meant well and cared for your safety. You love your job but often times, it was too dangerous, even for your standards after everything. Taking fewer and safer missions wasn’t a problem. As long as you had worked to do that involved helping people, you were satisfied.
You felt him nod his head lightly at the suggestion, causing a soft smile to bloom from your lips before placing a soft kiss on the crown of his head. You didn’t see it but a small smile curved his lips as well at the feel of your lips on his skin. The touch starved part of him relishing in these small moments of affection like treasure.
Your free hand moved to caress his back when you felt how damp the fabric of his top was. The sweat he had worked up earlier still hasn’t dried and you knew how uncomfortable he would get bathing in the slightest bit of dirt, hence why you thought of getting him cleaned.
You place another kiss on his cheek before attempting to untangle yourself from him. The events of the nights had taxed the god, but you wanted to get him at least a bit clean before he fully dozed off however, as you tried to get off his loving embrace, his grip only tightened, his droopy eyes opening wide to see the commotion.
‘Shhh, It’s alright. I just have to head out to the kitchen to check something and I promise, I will be right back my love’ you said softly to his ear, hoping his drowse would keep. He gave a tired huff before reluctantly setting you free. Your grin only grew wider, and you place a quick peck on his lips before you scrambled off the bed.
You quickly checked the kitchen to see if the kettle hadn’t burned and once assured, you left it as it was and headed to the loo to get what was needed. You took a small towel from the cupboard bellow the sink and ran it under the water to get it wet. Once it was fully soaked, you wrang the excess water from the towel and quickly grabbed a spare shirt from the wardrobe before going back to the bedroom.
The darling god had his eyes closed with your pillow once again tight in his grasp. This time, the sight made you smile. At how adorable he looked, face squashed on the cushion. You could tell how exhausted he was though, so you made haste in getting him set for night’s (hopefully) peaceful rest.
You sat beside him on the bed, the shifting of the mattress making him dare open an eye just as you were about to rouse him. He gave you that small charming smile of his when he saw you and your hand moved to cup his cheek, letting the pad of your thumb caress his now dried cheeks.
‘Can you sit up for me, luv’ you asked, leaning down to his ear. He gave you a faint nod before you sat back and helped him up. The fatigue was really getting on to him as he laid his head on your shoulder, so you made sure to finish as soon as possible to finally let him have a good night’s rest.
You gathered his hair into a pony with one hand and held it away, while the other wiped the damp cloth on the back of his neck. He flinched at the contact, having been spared a warning, you promptly apologized and moved as quickly as you could.
You wiped his face with great care, before you pulled his shirt off and threw it on the nightstand, to be put on the hamper after you were done. You wiped him all over until you deemed it enough and gave him the spare shirt. He put it on and just before you could leave the bed again, he took your hand. He gave you a pleading look that spoke volumes, and how could you resist when he gave you those doe eyes.
You gave him a soft smile, leaving the little towel beside the shirt and made your way to your spot on the bed. You got comfortable before you looked at him, staring at you with great fondness, it made you bashful yet you still opened your arms, welcoming him in to be held, which with great eager, he accepted. He laid beside you, wrapping his arms around your torso as he inhaled the scent of your hair, a welcome comfort after the course of the night.
You pulled the covers up to cover you both, but the feel of his soft lips just made you forget about everything but him, making you snuggle closer in his hold.
He had his head laid on the top of yours, his arms tied around you and your legs intertwined. An arm of yours cradled the back of his head, tangling to the roots of his inky locks while the other drew abstracts on his back. You held each other, never saying a word yet the silence was finally comfortable. A tranquil state you two could once again relish.
The silence however gave your mind room to intrude the peace, thinking of how things got to this point. From the argument, to the dismiss of each other’s presence and up until the confession after the dreadful nightmare, you admit that parts of how this ended up being the conclusion of the day, was your fault. Yes, Loki had his own mistakes in the matter, but you could have taken a point and fixed it. Why didn’t you get a grip and made the effort to make things better. You shouldn’t ha…
A deep sigh broke you out of your trance. A squeeze, you felt you were given as arms around waist tightened and you were pulled impossibly closer to the mass holding you.
‘I can hear your gears turning, darling’ Loki mumbled, followed by a small chuckle, breaking the deafening comfort of silence. The sound was well welcomed after the tension of the day.
‘Sorry, luv. Go back to sleep’ you reply, scratching his scalp. He hummed in response, a smile pressing against your hair before a quick peck was planted on the top of your head. You grinned, closing your eyes, hoping to finally get consumed by the black oblivion that was rest.
The gentle caress on your arm helped, lulling you to a peaceful state of mind. Loki knew what helped you too.
Eventually the night drew on, painting the dark skies with stars as the two held each other, succumbing to blissful state of peace promised by slumber.
The night was a lesson for the two. To understand the other, to work out their problems and to never go to bed angry.
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Chapter 7 - All the Tiring Time Between {TLTGYA - Post!TVA Loki x OFC Longfic}
Previous Chapter / TLTGYA Masterlist / A03 Link / Next Chapter
Pairing : Post-TVA!Loki x Oliviette (OFC)
Chapter Summary : Sometimes the sharpest boundaries require the gentlest touch.
Chapter W/c : 8.7k words
Chapter Tags / Content : Angst (as always), brief mentions of blood and injuries. Also there's a bunch of Tesseract lore and Loki's history with Thanos that I really got carried away with while writing this.
18+ Only - Minors DNI
⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰
The silence in the cell was electrifyingly tense, and Loki wished he had something else to focus his attention on.
His jaw ached as he took another bite of the flavorless, perplexing bread that was both stale and damp at the same time. He should have been grateful for it and its distraction, despite the woman having offered it without even so much as looking at him. But it just reminded him of the year he’d spent with the Mad Titan: Wretched. Forsaken. Totally and completely hopeless.
Loki tried desperately not to think about it, but it was getting harder to fight as his exhaustion grew.
The woman sat across from him in the cell, her knees pulled to her chest and her expression blank. She’d said absolutely nothing after dismissing his question about Anathema the night prior, not even when the peculiar guards brought in their cruel attempt at a meal. She didn’t even flinch when they set the tray down in front of her, nor when the duo stared, cold and unmoving, presumably waiting for her to beg for her life like all the others…but she did wait until they were finally gone to pull the tray closer.
She had grabbed the chunk of bread first, and extended it towards him in the shadows like it was second-nature to her. As if it wasn’t ever an option that she wouldn’t share it, and despite the fact that they were in stark disagreement about their respective situations in this place.
He felt guilty for accepting the offering, but unfortunately, he felt like he had no other choice; his eyelids were growing heavier by the minute, his muscles were becoming weaker with each new day of disuse, and his nerves were perpetually fried with wary energy. He was constantly stifling another yawn, and was dangerously close to falling asleep, to having another nightmare again.
Loki didn’t know if he ever talked in his sleep, but he didn’t want to risk revealing any compromising information about himself or his past; the less anyone knew about him here, the better off they all were.
But other than the food she’d shared with him, there wasn’t much else for him to distract himself with. The woman wasn’t talking anymore, and her questions had faded away alongside the hope she may have once had about escaping. That left Loki to alone deal with his questions about her, and their inscrutable answers.
The problem with that, however, was that his mind was nothing but a tangled mess; a rat’s nest, made up of lies and false memories, the betrayals of the life he’d left behind, and all the lives that never were. Before him lay a scattering of dots, all seemingly unrelated and centered around a woman who claimed she didn’t know what they wanted with her, and he couldn’t seem to make heads or tails of any of it.
Loki used to pride himself on his ability to see the bigger picture, especially on a galactic scale. But he had come here to hide and to wallow, to purposely let his mind atrophy into a cobweb of nothingness, because that was easier than continue trying, and failing, to be happy. He felt comfortable doing that, and letting this become his legacy, because he hadn’t ever expected a riddle to fall into his lap again. He hadn’t ever expected her.
As Loki swallowed the last of the bread, he forced himself to look at her again. She was still huddled against the wall, illuminated by the dim lantern light from the hallway and shivering in the cold dungeon like a scared little child. He was flabbergasted that she was still here, that they’d bothered bringing her back after being caught during an escape attempt. And he couldn’t help but hate himself, because the old Loki could have figured out why that was a very long time ago.
Next to her, the bowl of porridge sat on the floor, mostly untouched and definitely not enjoyed. Her expression was sullen as she stared off into the distance, and her limbs were folded around herself as she retreated deeper inward. It almost made him feel…something.
Of what exactly, Loki wasn’t quite sure; the feeling was old and familiar, something that was long lost while never really being understood in the first place. He told himself that the feeling was irrelevant, because it was just the mystery he found equal parts infuriating and intriguing. He just needed a bit more time than usual to settle the question marks, and then he could finally return to the blissful void of apathy.
And maybe she wasn’t lying when she claimed to not know who Anathema was, but he didn’t believe for a moment that she had no idea why the guards were so interested in her. Either she had something of theirs, or she knew some mysterious piece of information they didn’t yet - but they were obviously willing to play the long game in order to acquire it, and that couldn’t have been for nothing.
Perhaps it had something to do with the gem dangling from her necklace. Loki had seen her touching it, frequently and absentmindedly, running her slender fingers over the deep blue stone during stressed and quiet moments like now. Clearly it meant a lot to her; someone who loved her had given it to her. Someone she loved back, someone she probably missed dearly…
As he started to wonder if anyone was out there looking for her, Loki realized he was staring and quickly averted his eyes. They landed once again upon the bowl of uneaten porridge next to her, and a new form of discomfort wove itself between the muscles of his shoulders and neck. It wrapped around his nerve-endings, stinging the open and frayed tendrils that had been worn bare from the pain of still being alive.
He was quite vulnerable existing like this, even though he knew she couldn’t see him hiding in the shadows. That she didn’t know what he was thinking, or where he was looking. That she was unaware of the fleeting relief that poured into his veins when she was brought back to the cell alive, or his shame at feeling anything that had immediately replaced it.
Loki had been flippant when she was initially brought in here. He was angry the first time she tried to share a meal with him. And then he was conflicted, at best, when she was dragged back in the second time. This paltry range of emotions was far more than he was previously used to; he felt like he was drowning in it, like it was slowly collapsing his airways and squeezing out every last ounce of oxygen from his lungs.
Because there was only one person on this planet who knew his name. A single individual, throughout all of space and time, knew where he was. She was the sole witness to his current existence, and he’d never felt more uncomfortable or on display than here and now. She had met him at his worst, in his ultimate moment of triumph when he’d finally been able to remove himself from any and all equations, from every problem that ever needed solving, and he absolutely hated that.
Loki thought he’d finally accounted for everything when he had stepped through the Time Door and into this dungeon. He thought he’d finally fixed the issue, himself, for literally everyone - and then this tiny little variable had shown up so unexpectedly to completely ruin it for him.
He should have been angrier about it. He should have been furious and seething and shaking with rage over this egregious betrayal of the universe. Being alone had been the whole point, keeping everyone safe from him had been his only intention, seeking protection from the pain of both betrayal and being betrayed was all that Loki had left. Why wasn’t he allowed that meager peace of mind?
Damnation clung to Loki like a frightened child clung to his mother’s skirts, trembling in the dark and begging for acknowledgement of its traumatized state. It lurked around every corner and it haunted every shadow, constantly weeping and whimpering and howling out its anguish to cruel and uncaring souls. It was always there, lingering in the corner of his eye, reminding him of just how helpless and useless he was. That he should just give up. That he should just end it already.
But sometimes, the damnation would transform into something far more sinister, into the tall, skulking form of a cerulean demon. Hanging over his shoulder and digging its claws into his neck, the demon would spit cruel maledictions into his ear. Didn’t Loki know that everyone around him was already doomed? Wouldn’t it be kinder to just kill them now, rather than waiting for him to ruin their life and then cruelly and inevitably take it from them?
Hiding in the dungeon was the only reasonable compromise between the frightened child and the viscous demon warring in his mind. If only he had stuck with that plan, if only he hadn’t revealed that someone else was alive in the cell with her, then maybe he wouldn’t be in this mess right now.
Regret, his oldest and only friend, wouldn’t be blaring its horn and sounding the alarm bells and crying out for solace. So why did it bother him so much now that she wasn’t eating?
Loki shifted uncomfortably on the stone floor, weighing the options in his mind. The regret of initially engaging with this woman didn’t mean he couldn’t change tactics; and if she wasn’t eating, then it wouldn’t be too much longer until he was on his own again. That had been his initial plan, and there was no reason he couldn’t return to that now. Wasn’t being alone all he ever wanted?
“You should finish your meal. There’s no telling how long it’ll be before they bring another…” The words felt like acid on Loki’s tongue, dripping down his throat to eat away at his insides. He hoped they had come out as bluntly as he’d intended, but in reality, it just sounded like something his mother would have said.
This time, the woman didn’t shudder when he finally broke the tense silence. She didn’t even react at all, other than to sigh heavily and respond in a low and flattened tone. “What’s the point…?”
“Well, clearly they’d prefer you to be alive, for whatever reason…” Loki’s jaw tensed as he paused, struggling to understand why he was even bothering. “Even if they bring food on an irregular basis, it’s still more than anyone else gets…”
“Maybe the only reason they want me alive is so they can continue mocking and hurting me.”
That was a more difficult point to contend with; perhaps the guards had just grown weary of the simple and mundane murders, and they’d decided to go with something more entertaining this time. What if there wasn’t a more complicated explanation for the guards' motivations? What if he was searching for logic that didn’t even exist?
Loki stifled another yawn as he leaned back against the stone wall, raking his fingers through tangled curls that were just as chaotic as his thoughts. There had to be something he was missing while attempting to put this puzzle together. “So what did the guards say when they caught you escaping?”
The woman let out a heavy exhale, and her tone shifted into a more sarcastic tone. “Oh, normal things like what are you doing out of your cell?, and no one’s coming to rescue you. Typical kidnapper things, you know…”
Loki couldn’t help but roll his eyes at her nonchalant answers, but what else was he expecting? He was beginning to wonder if it was even worth putting this much effort into avoiding sleep. Nothing else in his life prior to meeting her had been easy, so why was he expecting this to go smoothly?
“Actually, the guard did say something strange before knocking me out…” The woman trailed off, pausing as she furrowed her brow.
Loki cleared his throat as he looked towards her again. “Strange how?”
“Maxine - or Nulan, whichever one it was…They caught me upstairs in their private quarters. Just before attacking me, they said what is gone…may never return.” The woman pulled her lower lip between her teeth as she recalled the memory. “I’ve never heard it before, and I have no idea what it means…”
What is gone…may never return. Loki turned the phrase backward and forward in his mind, trying to find its place in this absolutely confounding puzzle. But he’d never heard anyone say anything even remotely close to it, so there was nowhere for it to go. The phrase’s sentiment, however, he understood perfectly well.
“It was probably just a threat, or a taunt…” she continued with a dismissive shake of her head. “They were just mocking me, for losing everything…”
“Or it’s a prayer. A desperate request, for some kind of reprieve…” Loki murmured in reply. He didn’t want to think about whether anyone had ever hoped for the same thing after he’d finally walked away, but he was positive that they had. And he hadn’t meant for his interpretation to sound so melancholy, but as his gaze caught the woman’s matching expression, he could feel her understanding of his meaning. Loki hated that.
She must have sensed that as well, because she quickly forced a false smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “No…surely they must have been talking about me losing my boots.”
Her smile faded just as quickly as it had appeared, shifting into a grimace as a violent shiver shuddered over the limbs she struggled to pull close enough. She breathed out a heavy sigh and lowered her forehead to her knees with another tremble, and for once, Loki was grateful for the Jotun physiology keeping him relatively comfortable. But the woman didn’t share the same luxury of such a curse, and she was clearly suffering in these dank and grim conditions.
Loki turned his attention towards his fingers, twitching and fidgeting restlessly in his lap. This particular guilt was both new and unwelcome, like the haunting of fresh ghosts he thought he’d finally manage to not brutally murder for once. It wasn’t directly his fault she was here, that she was suffering. She was a complete stranger, after all, and this couldn’t have been his problem, or his responsibility.
But as Loki lifted his gaze again, carefully moving his eyes to avoid looking upon her once more, he caught a glimpse of the woman’s forgotten boots in the shadows, the ones carelessly stripped away while the guards were searching her the night before.
He recalled one of the first lessons Odin had explained about ruling a kingdom, that sometimes tact and finesse were far more effective than blades or might. Perhaps if Loki was kind instead of harsh, and if he returned the boots to the frozen woman, then she might help alleviate the nagging questions he still had and allow him to fight off sleep for just a little bit longer.
His brow furrowed, and he swallowed hard as he realized this was the least he could do for the both of them. It wasn’t much, but it felt like chopping off a limb when he cleared his throat and forced himself to speak again. “Your, um…boots are in here. They might help you with the…cold.”
The woman’s head popped back up, and her eyes narrowed as she scanned for them in the darkness. “Where are they? I don’t - ” she replied, clumsily attempting to push herself upright, obviously eager to get them back on as soon as possible.
Loki felt an odd sense of duty, one that had been buried deep underneath the many eons of pain, and it compelled him to act before he had the chance to second-guess himself. He moved slowly, shifting his weight onto his hip, and extended his arm out. His fingers were just long enough to barely grasp the black leather pull loops, to drag them closer and then place them within her reach while maintaining a safe distance, and without the need for him to stand.
A faint smile crossed her lips as she stretched to pull them closer. “Thank you so much, Loki.”
He couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact anymore; it was hard enough to listen to the bewildered gratitude in her voice. His every movement had stayed within the safe confines of the shadows, and he imagined that she saw her boots reappearing as if from the loving aid of a benevolent god, of someone else who was capable of caring.
“It was nothing,” he told them both.
He had fully intended to return his attention back inward, but he found himself distracted by the woman as she shifted on the floor. Curling and stretching her limbs, gracelessly attempting to pull a boot back on with a single hand, and then reluctantly, with both hands. She let out a gasping whimper as she tried to extend out her left arm, and Loki noticed her fingers trembling as she tried to push through the pain.
Obligation flared along his spine again, but this time, Loki questioned it. A childhood memory surfaced, of when his father would return home from war, bruised and exhausted and weary, and Loki would rush to his side, eager to help with removing his armor and assist in any way he could. He thought maybe if he proved himself useful, eager and determined, like his older brother was, then Odin might finally give him a chance to fight alongside him.
But even though his seidr had been well-advanced for his age, his father had always refused to bring Loki along, despite never leaving home without Thor. Odin had said that Loki wasn’t ready yet, that he wasn’t strong enough, that it was too dangerous for a little boy to be out on the field and surrounded by their mortal enemies.
“Such a young prince falling into the hands of Asgard’s opponents could prove disastrous to the realms,” his father had said, even though that fear had never stopped him from bringing Thor into battle. It wasn’t until much later that Loki realized the truth, that the only real use he had wasn’t needed back then - not until the direst of circumstances forced his father’s ultimate and final hand.
The woman let out a sharp groan, bringing Loki back to the present. She had collapsed back against the wall, sniffling and brushing the messy strands of crimson hair away from her face. “Loki, I’m so sorry…but can you please…?”
His eyes widened, and hers were full of tears. Her cheeks reddened, and her lower lip trembled as she spoke with a cracked voice. “Please help me? I’m so cold, and I can’t…I can’t get these back on…”
It wasn’t like the cold, calculating demands he was previously used to, and Loki realized that it pained her to ask like this. She wasn’t trying to get anything out of him, she wasn’t manipulating her way into something more than she deserved, or trying to get him to commit atrocities in her name.
It wasn’t a game or a trick designed to be laughed at later with her friends; she genuinely just needed his help. But the problem was that this kind of assistance not only required him to vacate the shadows, to come closer and share the same air as her - it necessitated physical touch. Loki was sure he couldn’t handle that.
The muscles in his fingers articulated of their own accord, separating and curling into just the right place to summon and concentrate his seidr, intent on disassembling the atoms that made up the woman’s boots and reassembling them back where they belonged.
A suitable compromise, Loki believed, except that absolutely nothing happened. The warmth that normally accompanied his magic was nowhere to be found, that familiar connection to the past and the present, to his mother, wasn’t opening its loving arms to welcome him back home - and that was when he finally remembered.
Loki’s seidr was dead, because he was supposed to be dead.
He’d forsaken his magic as soon as he’d arrived here. Once he willingly stepped through the Time Door and into this dungeon, once he’d realized that the first thing this newly-freed universe had done was trap him yet again, he decided that this time it was really meant to be.
So he didn’t bother fighting it, and he willingly let go of the tendrils of seidr he had once clung so tightly to. He didn’t deserve the honor of wielding it, not after what he’d done in New York. And what use would that magic have been to the hollowed-out shell of a person he was now? What good could he have possibly done with it anyway?
“Loki?”
Once again, the woman’s quiet voice refocused his attention. Her expression had fallen even further during his silent brooding, and she was staring woefully into the dark, desperately hoping to see him finally coming to her aid. A deep sense of dread rose up within his chest, thick and impenetrable, oozing between his ribs to singe and suffocate his lungs like molten lava.
Loki didn’t know what to do, and yet, he moved anyway. Pressing his palms flat against the stone floor, he bent his knees and carefully pushed himself upright. His joints cracked and popped, his muscles were stiff and sluggish as he slid one foot forward, and the belt around his waist was far looser than when he’d initially put it on.
Taking another step closer, his mind suddenly dizzied, and his body began to sway dangerously from the juxtaposition of pushing himself forward while he’d been wasting away. He quickly grabbed onto the wall with a sharp gasp, trying to steady himself as his legs tingled themselves awake.
“Loki…are you alright?” the woman murmured, her brow furrowing with concern.
“I’m fine, it’s just - ” Loki sighed heavily, his heart pounding and muscles trembling. “I’m just not used to…standing.”
Loki closed his eyes and leaned against the wall for a moment, willing his body back into operating under his own control. But despite his best efforts, weariness and exhaustion were still permanently at the helm, relentlessly steering him back towards collapsing and passing out again.
“It’s alright. Take your time…”
Loki’s eyes snapped back open, painfully aware that she was still watching him closely, and he did everything he could to both avoid her gaze and her reassurance. Nothing about this was alright, and he could hear his father’s chastising voice from beyond the stars, criticizing him for allowing enervation to consume him - even though that was the only way to keep himself out of trouble.
His eyes flitted across the dungeon cell, feverishly taking in the stone walls and steel bars of the door, then out to the flickering lantern light of the hallway. Loki had never even bothered to take a good look at his coffin before committing to staying in it for all eternity, but from this elevation, he could clearly examine the cuts that made up the large slabs of the walls and floor. Meticulous, flawless, precise - too perfect to have been sliced by hand.
His gaze moved to the cream-colored candlestick suspended within the single lantern in the hallway, evenly melted away and without a single speck of soot upon the glass encasing it. From there, he could make out the grooves carved by the steel bars into the doorway’s arch as it swung open and closed, and the streaked and dark stains, smudged against the grayed and leadened floor, leading from the hallway back into their cell.
The woman’s blood, he assumed, and Loki’s hands clenched into fists. His throat tightened, and the slightest hint of outrage began to reluctantly wake from its slumber.
Forcing the feeling away, Loki finally closed the distance and carefully crouched in front of the woman; only then did he let her be the focus of his attention. Loose and uneven strands of crimson had been pulled free from the long, disheveled braid nestled untidily over her shoulder;her skin was wan and pallid, and her lips were tinted with the faintest hint of blue.
Dried blood had smeared on her ear, her neck, the lengths of her hair and along her cheek. It was everywhere, mixed with the dirt and muck from the floor, coating the corners of her cracked lips and the freckles that dotted her cheekbone. The fact that the blood was dried, meaning the original wound was at the very least no longer actively bleeding, did nothing to make him feel better.
Loki lowered one knee down to the floor, precariously settling his weight onto one ankle, and the woman’s attention was now entirely fixed on her boots. She swallowed nervously, and Loki silently agreed with the sentiment. How long had it been since he’d touched another person? Did he even remember how to be gentle? How to not contaminate?
Moving cautiously, he took a boot into his grasp, threading his fingers between the loops and slowly pulling to loosen its laces. While he worked, he focused on the soft leather: its scent was herbal, earthy, and with just the barest suggestion of sweetness. Intricate designs, swirls and constellations and rays of light emanating from an overly-stylized sun were stitched into the leather, extending from the collar and flowing down way past the ankle.
Soft, pliable and shiny, the leather still showed signs of its latest polish, applied with a healthy dose of high-quality wax, from underneath the layers of grim. The boots had been methodically cared for, regularly and recently, and probably not too long before the woman found herself in custody of the mysterious guards. Loki found himself curious about the circumstances of her capture.
Stained in the same shade of night as the leathers covering her legs, they blended seamlessly together with the rest of her clothing, from the thin stockings on her feet to the chipped lacquer on her fingernails. Everything was the exact same color, save for the thin, flowing emerald tunic that had long since come untucked, and the gem that hung from her neck.
And everything she wore was undoubtedly expensive, most likely customized for this particular owner, and she had obviously not dressed for being locked inside a damp and grimy dungeon. At best, she was prepared for a pleasant walk through the woods on a mildly chilly evening; Loki tried not to think about it too much.
Out of his peripheral vision, Loki could see the woman stealing glances up at him. She watched him carefully, her sea green eyes shifting cautiously between his face, his hands, and the boot he was unlacing - obviously examining and judging the hideous monster whose help she had no choice but to accept.
Loki began to feel self-conscious. There was no doubt that his own appearance wasn’t any better than her own at the moment; in fact, he was sure it was much, much worse. Dark and unkempt curls hung way past his shoulders like sinister snakes. The skin on his hands was sullen and pallor, shifting dangerously close to bluish gray, and he had no idea if his eyes had begun to drift back into their original shade of ruby-red or not. He promised himself that this would be the only time she ever saw his face up close.
When he could no longer justify stalling with the laces, he cleared his throat, and forced his fingers to tap the underside of her leg; a featherlight touch that could have been easily missed if one hadn’t been expecting it. But the woman again mercifully sensed his meaning, and she positioned the appropriate foot for him to slide the boot on.
Too well, Loki noticed, as he pulled the collar up to settle around her calf; she was exceptionally practiced at having others put footwear on her - at tensing the right muscles at just the right moment, and extending the leg with just enough force to seat the foot comfortably against the insole.
“Sorry about this…” she mumbled as Loki pulled the laces tight and began looping them back and forth around the hooks. “Although, this is probably the most exciting thing you’ve done in a while, huh?”
She was trying to lighten the mood, to distract from the previous awkwardness of such close quarters. Loki’s response was flat and measured, his attention focused on tying instead of talking. “Like I said - it’s nothing.”
A nervous silence followed, one that was far more uncomfortable than the awkwardness. Loki hadn’t meant to be so dismissive, and perhaps he’d been far too frigid for someone who was supposed to be helping her. When he finished the final loop, he cleared his throat again and forced himself to look up again.
“Is that…too tight for you?” he murmured softly.
The woman managed a weak smile as she flexed her ankle. “No. It feels fine.”
Loki noted that her pupils dilated ever so slightly when she met his gaze, and he took that as a good sign that her head injury wasn’t a completely serious one. He wasn’t sure why he was noting that, but nonetheless, he had, and he didn’t have the energy to start questioning it. Instead, he busied himself with picking up the other boot and threading his fingers underneath its laces like he’d done with the first.
“Is this all I have left? Just waiting in this cell to die?”
Her voice had taken on a somber, more sorrowful tone now; apparently open anguish was much easier for her than polite small-talk, and if she hadn’t been so exhausted, Loki would have guessed there would have been more than a tear or two accompanying her questions. He wasn’t sure how to answer her; bringing up the fact that the other prisoners before her had never lasted more than a day or two, or the fact that they were never returned once removed from their cells, probably wasn’t going to help her mood very much.
“At least they’re leaving you alone for the most part,” Loki answered, lightly tapping his fingers underneath her other leg for the placement of its boot. “Be thankful for relative peace.”
The woman sighed heavily as she cooperated. “Relative peace. That’s all I have to look forward to?”
“For some, that’s all they’ve ever wanted,” Loki said absentmindedly. “They’d kill for it, and others willingly die in its pursuit…”
The woman’s eyebrows raised in troubled concern, and Loki tried to ignore it. He couldn’t understand why he was like this, either speaking too familiarly with the woman, or far too flippantly. He was out of practice when it came to any sort of normal conversation, but he didn’t want to be accustomed to it again. In the end, she was just a temporary distraction, and he wasn’t supposed to even exist at all.
“That’s very enlightened, coming from someone who has nightmares every time he closes his eyes…” the woman replied as he finished tying the laces on the other boot. She flexed that ankle, and then nodded her approval while pulling her knees back against her chest.
Loki’s brow furrowed as he met her gaze once more. Her eyes were wide and open, appearing to be without a single shred of judgment, only empathy. Loki couldn’t help but scrutinize her for that. If she only knew how little he deserved kindness, and he was irritated that she’d noticed how bad his nightmares were at all. He’d rather have not known that his weakness was on complete display, and thus, beyond his complete control.
Slowly pushing himself back up to standing, grateful that the task and its requisite close proximity were finally over, Loki’s fingertips trailed along the cold stone as he backed into the shadows again. But lethargy was creeping back in, along with the ever-present unsettled and restless energy, and when Loki returned to sitting, he wasn’t quite as far into the dark as he had been before.
“You know, it may help your nightmares to talk about them,” the woman suggested cautiously. “Perhaps unburdening yourself a little would be a good thing…”
Loki grimaced. Of all the ways she could have worded it, he wished it hadn’t been in that specific way. As it were, various burdens of all sorts were already going to haunt him until the end of time, it seemed, and he preferred not to be reminded of the purposes initially set upon him by Thanos. And even if he wanted to, where should he begin?
He still didn’t quite understand what exactly had happened to him on Knowhere; that entire year was just a chaotic haze of torture and manipulation, through both physical and psychological means, and it was impossible for him to decipher what was real and what was a lie. Even now, he couldn’t even recall the exact circumstances that led to his descent from the Bifrost and into Thanos’ control.
Sometimes, he could clearly remember the decision to let go of Gungnir and fall into the abyss; other times, he was absolutely convinced that his brother had pushed him in a jealous rage, furious that Loki’s short tenure as King had proved far more successful than any longer one Thor could have ever managed.
Either way, the fall had resulted in him becoming Thanos’ prisoner, and then later, as a member of the Black Order - but only after they’d finally conceded that physical torture was never going to work on the body of a Frost Giant, on an Asgardian prince raised as a warrior, or on a powerful sorcerer who already had extremely complicated feelings about being alive in the first place.
But once they realized that he just wanted somewhere to belong, they finally started to see real progress, and the emotional manipulation that followed was probably more effective than they could have ever hoped for. It was so very easy to muddy the rough waters of Loki’s psyche thanks to the Chitauri Scepter and his tremendous heartbreak - a kind word here, a clever lie there, and nothing but speeches about revenge and betrayals, destinies and purposes, salvation and redemption, and scorned Kings and their disgraced sons.
After Loki had been welcomed into the fold, Thanos explained his need for the Tesseract; if Loki acquired it, then he would be granted an army to help take Midgard by as excessive and violent force as he deemed necessary. The God of Mischief already knew that he wanted to be as destructive as possible - to both completely cripple his brother’s fondness for the pathetic humans, and to show Odin that he would settle for being a terrifying leader if he wasn’t permitted to be a good one.
His idea for retrieving the Tesseract had been a clever one; so clever that Loki wasn’t surprised that Thanos or the Black Order hadn’t ever considered it before. But getting to suggest it meant that his new Master was immediately pleased with his usefulness, something that had rarely happened with his previous keeper, and Loki was so grateful for the opportunity to satisfy.
Out of the six Infinity Stones, the Space Stone was unique in that it could generate massive amounts of self-sustaining energy. Its power signature was incredibly easy to track, and it didn’t take long for Loki to determine the Tesseract’s location inside the S.H.I.E.L.D. research facility. Under Fury’s careful and watchful eye, the mortals were studying its capabilities for power production, no doubt to be used in some kind of advanced weapons manufacture instead of something that could actually be used to help mankind.
A stereotypically short-sighted action, one that would soon be their downfall, because none of those weapons would ever be able to stop him from completing his task. Had they realized the stone’s true potential, as Loki had, then perhaps the humans might have fared better during his invasion.
Because he knew something that apparently no one else did, something he now prayed that no one else would ever be able to figure out. Loki was in the unusual position of understanding exactly how the Bifrost had operated, of how it could easily send and receive anything from across the galaxies with frightening and pinpoint accuracy. As a child, he was fascinated by the Bifrost, and more than once Heimdall had to stop him from attempting to disassemble it while searching for the details of its inner workings.
Once informed of her son’s unyielding curiosities, his mother had patiently redirected that energy towards Asgard’s massive libraries. There, he spent many late nights pouring over the texts and histories of the magnificent Bifrost. Once he’d devoured all he could from words, he then spent his time exploring the Realm and looking for means of travel that didn’t involve going to the Bifrost at all.
And thanks to the Mad Titan’s relentless and universal conquest in search of the stones, Loki had access to incalculable amounts of lore, research and history that had been stolen from countless cultures and societies. He spent months buried in books and manuscripts, performing calculations and practicing his seidr, searching desperately for the perfect combination of science and magic to get him what he needed.
All of that, when combined with his extensive knowledge of the Bifrost, allowed Loki to realize that all he needed was a power-source. It must have been fate and its impeccable sense of humor, because the Space Stone could be the engine, and the Tesseract was going to be the gateway - a terrible, incredible bridge between where you were, and where you desperately wanted to be.
For Loki, the Tesseract was going to deliver him to vengeance, respect, authority and glory - in a way that no one would be able to undo once he finally got it. His brother, his father, the entire Nine Realms and beyond, all of them would be powerless to stop him once he figured out how to open the Tesseract’s portal from the other side.
Returning to his research with a new sense of delirium, he gave up on sleep, and food, and his sanity while he searched for the answer. His cheeks became hollow, his eyes were sunken deep into his skull, and his skin grew weak and frail. His nerves were on the verge of total disintegration, his heart ached and his mind was hazy.
His every waking thought was consumed by the Tesseract, and on the rare occasion that he actually passed out, so were his nightmares. He became too lost to even carry on a conversation; all he could manage were grunts and groans and strange approximations of the word “Tesseract”. Every part of himself, anything that had once been Loki, had all but slipped away.
But occasionally, Loki would come back to himself. He would look down at his hands in horror, and he wouldn’t understand where he was or how he got there. While screaming and lashing out, the one called Ebony Maw would preach about balance, about salvation and judgment and how Loki was destined to assist the Great Titan in saving all of life, by ending half of it. He was instructed to be grateful for being allowed to take part in it.
But it didn’t make any sense, and Loki tried so hard to resist, to fight them off, to scramble to the exit and free himself, to warn someone of the terrible thing that was coming. Then, something would happen, something would touch him, and his mind would cloud back over with rage and madness. The dangerous craving for the Tesseract would return tenfold, and then he would be back on task, more eager than ever to please.
After a quick journey through the minds of the men known as Selvig and Barton, Loki finally had everything he needed to complete his sacred mission. The astrophysicist filled in the last remaining gaps about the Tesseract’s functionalities, and the archer revealed information about S.H.I.E.L.D.'s security protocols - how many personnel were on site, what types of weapons they had, where they’d been trained. The details of every file stored on their secret servers, every individual’s personal histories - including that of the beings once considered to join the so-called Avengers, the ones that might be called upon to stop him.
On his first attempt, Loki succeeded in opening the Tesseract’s portal. One moment, he was standing on Thanos’ ship, and the next, he was inside the research facility, shrouded within a haze of smoke and mania. By the third second, he was ferociously attacking, moving and acting without consideration for the stealth or secrecy he’d been trained with as a child. He didn’t even bother dodging the humans’ pathetic projectiles; instead, he focused on murdering the ones he had already deemed useless to his cause, and using the Sceptre to convert the ones that were worthy of it
Nor did he bother mincing words with Fury as the Director stalled for time, not even the ones ripped directly from Ebony Maw’s impassioned and self-important speeches. Loki already knew how unstable the gateway was, and that was by design. During his maniacal studies, he had determined how best to sustain the portal’s opening for safe and easy passage - first, in order to allow entry for the Chitauri forces, and then to facilitate easy travel for Thanos to find the rest of the stones later on.
Loki’s first act of murder had been intentionally not stabilizing the portal as it opened inside the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility; he had wanted the structure to collapse in a stunning display of destruction. Whether it was to be an ominous warning for what he was about to do, or if it was to serve as a call to action for the only ones who could have prevented him from succeeding, he still wasn’t quite sure.
Either way, he ultimately failed in the only way that had mattered. Loki didn’t achieve vengeance or respect or authority, and there was no victory or glory waiting for him after it was over. The Chitauri Forces were destroyed, the Tesseract was not handed over to Thanos per their agreement, and he’d made a great many vicious and unforgiving enemies that day.
In the end, the only thing waiting for him was a prison cell on Asgard, and all he’d managed to do was to make everything worse.
And presumably, after it was over, Thanos still had access to all of Loki’s research. Losing out on the Tesseract would have infuriated him and the Black Order; a minor inconvenience, sure, but it wouldn’t have hindered their quest in the slightest. Thanos still knew how to use the Tesseract because of him - and more importantly, he understood how to use it in the most destructive way possible. That was completely and entirely Loki’s fault, and he just hoped that Thanos was arrogant enough to keep that information to himself, that no one else would try and fail in the same catastrophic way that Loki had.
Maybe the Tesseract wasn’t meant to be used as a gateway, and in doing so, Loki had ensured that he’d never get what he wanted, and that he’d lose what little he had left. All of that madness and frantic chaos and deliberate carnage had been for absolutely nothing. Maybe the Tesseract was cursed, and maybe, so was he.
Because every single time Loki had come into contact with it, his life had taken a drastic and even more devastating turn for the worse. Attempting to acquire it for Thanos had broken him - mind, body, and soul; fleeing New York with it had landed him in the clutches of the TVA; and apparently, it had been his ultimate destiny to die while trying to keep it from the Mad Titan.
The absolute last thing Loki ever wanted was to be reminded of the Tesseract - more than he wanted silence, or solitude, or to rot. And now this woman wanted to know what his nightmares were about?
Even if he had made it to the prison cell on Asgard, he wasn’t planning to explain himself to anyone. What was he supposed to tell his brother, his mother, his father? That he’d been deceived? Were they going to believe that he’d fallen for someone else’s lies so easily, and without question? That the God of Mischief himself had been tricked, played for a fool and made to be the universe’s largest and most pathetic scapegoat?
No, trying to justify his actions would be a grave disservice to the innocent lives he’d taken, and telling the truth was next to impossible. Even just talking about the betrayal of his family would be too much for him to bear, and that was the only aspect of the entire thing that Loki had never, ever second-guessed.
The woman continued stealing glances in his direction, from just a few feet away now. Still waiting for him to say something, anything, to help keep her mind distracted from her own plights. For the briefest of moments, he actually considered asking if she’d ever heard of the Tesseract, or the Infinity Stones. If she knew who Thanos was, if he’d ever been to this planet before…but as Loki fidgeted with his tie, running his fingers over the frayed and broken seams in the cloth, he knew the answer didn’t matter.
The appropriate time to have asked that question would have been when he’d first arrived, back when the TemPad still had the power to take him some place else if need be. But now the TemPad was dead; he was trapped here, and the longer he could go without hearing about the Tesseract, the better. The longer he could go on in the blissful ignorance of relative peace, and without talking about himself, the easier this would be for everyone.
“How did you wind up here anyway?” He winced as he spoke, hating himself for being more than a little curious about it. “I can’t imagine the guards asking you to come along nicely…”
The woman hesitated for a moment, no doubt replaying the events in her mind and wishing she had done something differently. Her fingers grasped the gem that hung from her neck, and she swallowed hard. “I was…taken from Tessaway, my home, in the middle of the night.”
She paused, her eyes focused on something non-existent in the distance. “I don’t know how they made it past the sentries, but they…managed, somehow. They took me from my bed, while I slept…”
Loki shook his head, trying to appear sympathetic. “You lived in a heavily guarded city. It must be a very dangerous place…”
“Tessaway isn’t a city,” she corrected, furrowing her brow as she looked over at him. “It’s the castle in Fayrest. You know, the capital city…?”
He didn’t know any of that, of course, having never left this cell. The woman looked like she wanted to say more but was afraid to, and he couldn’t help but think about why she had seemed to imply before that no one was going to rescue her. “Wouldn’t someone from the castle have noticed your absence? Surely they have to be looking for you by now…”
“No…” The woman shifted uncomfortably in place, her expression broken and forlorn. “No, I was just a servant. No one important enough to miss…”
Loki had been studying her carefully ever since he’d realized her captors were going to keep her alive for much longer than they had the others. Her movements were elegant and refined, her clothing and jewelry expensive and customized, her speech graceful and enchanting; the kind of charming that could only come from years of practice. He didn’t believe for a second that she was just a servant working in a castle.
But she was also clearly in a tremendous amount of pain, and for whatever reason, was keeping the origins of her birth a secret. Loki wondered what might have happened to him if he had been given that luxury, if he hadn’t been the only one to not know the truth about himself.
“Ah, a servant,” he replied, trying to lighten the mood a little. His unpracticed lips curved into a forced and lazy grin. “That certainly explains why you’re so concerned about my well-being…”
The woman’s eyebrows raised in amusement, and she tilted her head curiously as if taking his comment as a challenge. “What’s the matter? Are you not used to someone worrying about your well-being?”
Loki’s jaw tensed; perhaps he hadn’t been behaving as opaquely as he hoped, and he hated that she could see through him just as well as he could through her. He glanced over, and decided to provoke her right back. “Well, I’m sure they’ll miss you at the castle eventually. Like when there’s pots that need washing, or linens that need changing?”
“Yes, yes, that’s very funny…” she replied, rolling her eyes. “I get it, the thing about servants is that no one knows your name until something you normally do suddenly isn’t being done anymore…”
The woman turned, and she met his gaze with a considering and dissecting one of her own. “Like you - you don’t need anything from me, so why would you ever bother learning my name?”
From just a few feet away, the woman stared deep into his soul, tugging at the strings that still held him upright and all but questioning if they were even necessary. He waited until she looked away to furrow his brow again, because while she was right about him not needing anything from her, she was surely mistaken about the other half of her point.
Because he did actually know her name; it was the first new name he’d learned in such a very long time, and he thought it suited her quite well, all things considered. But he had been trying to avoid acknowledging it, not wanting it to mean something more than what it was.
It was just a name, after all; a series of specific vocalizations designed to get her attention. Saying it out loud didn’t mean that they were friends, or that they were even important to each other. It wouldn’t bind them in any way, or obligate him to care. But if that were true, then why did he have such a problem with saying it?
Loki could feel a nervous energy creeping relentlessly up his spine again. He wished it would stop receding, that it would stay put, because the constant shifting between relaxing and stressing was completely wearing him out. He told himself he just needed to say it out loud and get it over with, before he could start second-guessing and talk himself out of it again - especially now that she had noticed his careful avoidance of her name.
“What kind of servant knows how to fight with a staff anyway?” Loki asked, affecting an innocent and casual tone. “I guess servants named Oliviette do…”
After he answered his own question, Loki looked towards her again, and Oliviette was already smiling back at him; it was a bleary and quiet acknowledgement, but the sentiment was definitely noteworthy. For the first time since they’d met, he could see the dimples in her cheeks, and it was impossible to miss the way her eyes lit up with mirth, or how her lips pursed before she finally responded.
“What? Am I not allowed to have hobbies outside of work?”
Loki struggled to not return her smile. He almost felt a sense of appreciation for her snark and the much-needed diversion from the constant aching in his chest. It was only then that he remembered that this was supposed to be a temporary distraction; he couldn’t afford to spend needless energy that didn’t directly involve finding out why the guards were keeping Oliviette alive for this long.
Keeping a safe distance was paramount, his new glorious purpose. Trust was for children and dogs, wasn’t that how he’d put it to Mobius during their first meeting? As long as he stayed here, keeping himself isolated and protected, then he couldn’t ever be tricked into being someone else’s attack dog ever again. He couldn’t ever hurt anyone again.
Besides, it was highly implausible that her life would end in any way other than tragically. Loki’d already had quite enough of that - and would it be worth getting close to her, even if it didn’t?
⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰
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#loki#loki x original female character#loki fanfiction#loki odinson#loki x oc#loki fic#loki angst#loki laufeyson#loki fanfic#loki x ofc#tva loki#loki mutual pining#loki mcu#loki smut#loki fluff#loki hurt/comfort#slow burn#mutual pining#marvel#fanfic#smut#fluff#angst#hurt/comfort#TLTGYA#cee writes
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"are people not into that?" i ask, after posting my weird niche shit to the internet, despite knowing it to be weird niche shit.
#jsyk sylkius or anything adjacent to it does not “Do Numbers” in any way and i observed this some time ago#i assume that's the “rival ships” element at work but who knows really#that sort of thing is like femslash in that everyone approves of it but nobody actually reads or writes it#but who would have thought sylvie beating loki with a stick would not bring in droves of readers???! shocking twist there!#& i don't consider sifki a rarepair but my rarepair standards are VERY strict like if there's >5 fics a pairing is basically mainstream#chasing popularity would annoy me though & i just don't have the mental spoons to try writing stuff i wouldn't personally read#yeah i *could* put my blorbos to work in a coffee shop but what cost to my own enjoyment levels? AT WHAT COST FANGELA???#you can't please everyone so you may as well just please yourself and if anyone else likes it you've found some fellow freaks so yay#i don't mean please yourself in a wanking sense. though feel free to do that too it probably counts as a cardio workout idk.#BUT ANYWAY#fic related#ps i am v glad there's the “warning: loki” tag because i think/hope it acts as a filter for 'he did nothing wrong in his life ever' types#who are Valid & etc obviously but i write my morally grey characters to be morally grey and the tag might help avoid conflict#though tbh i write almost every character to be morally grey in some way so i can't claim to have left my comfort zone here#(i'm not joking when i say the 1987-89 run of Dr Who shaped my entire future fannish life from a young and apparently v impressionable age)
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How Like A Winter Your Absence Has Been, What Freezings Have I Felt | Loki x Asgardian!Reader
Learning that Asgard has been destroyed you follow the Asgardians to Midgard, crash landing in a Norweigian forest. When Loki is sent to collect you old hurts are raised, new hurts are healed and an understanding is found.
Warnings: soppy snow based shinanigans, sort of friends to lovers with an enemies to lovers vibe, hurt/comfort, reader is hurt and needs stitches. Kissinngggg.
Loki calls reader 'Vennen' which is a term of endearment, between friends and lovers, but can be seen as patronising in the wrong tone or context.
Divider by @firefly-graphics
Masterlist | Loki Masterlist
The sullen silence filling the cabin of the car weighed heavy on Loki’s shoulders. It’d been years since you’d seen each other, before Ragnarok, before Odin had left Asgard. Years. And yet the familiar awkwardness of your presence still ate at him.
In the passenger seat you fidgeted. Frustrated that your return had ended like this, helpless in a Norwegian forest you’d never visited, returning to a home you’d never seen. News had travelled slowly across the galaxies, but as soon as you’d heard that Asgard had fallen you’d been trying to return. Your ship had fought you all the way, trying to set a course to a world that existed only as errant space dust and you’d floated there, fighting off the creatures that crawled among its ruins, until you’d received word of a new settlement, here on Midgard.
It hadn’t surprised you, both brothers had always been obsessed with the place and, driving through the night, flashes of snow carved out of the darkness by the moon, you could understand why. Norway was a beautiful land.
“So, you still can’t pilot your ship.” Loki’s voice cut through the silence and you huffed in response.
“I’m not the one who blew up a planet. It’s not built for landing in Midgard’s atmosphere, how was I to know it’d start burning up.” You looked out of the window, how dare he make jokes about Ragnarok, how dare he.
“I doubt the builders will be able to salvage it.”
“I don’t care, leave me alone.”
It was Loki’s turn to huff out a laugh, “you intend to walk back to New Asgard, vennen? Be our guest, I care not.”
He slowed down as the endless skies opened and a new flurry of snow swirled around the car.
If he could’ve chosen a way to spend a cold, snowy night before Solstice Loki would’ve chosen reading by the fire or drinking with Val and Thor. Maybe even an evening’s walk on the cliffs. He certainly would not have taken Thor’s Avenger’s issue Land Rover to trawl through miles of empty forest, but looking for you, that was a task that he had felt was his and his alone. So why was spending this much time alone together, in a confined space, when you hadn’t seen each other for eons, making his skin feel tight.
“Then why did you come?”
“Because despite Thor’s abdication I still owe a duty to my people, I would never leave an Asgardian stranded.” He kept his eyes on the road ahead, he knew if he turned you’d be looking at him with those beautiful eyes, studying him in that way that always made him nervous, and his eyes twinkled at the thought of you rattled. “Besides, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease you mercilessly while you have no escape.” He chuckled, but stopped abruptly when you made a noncommittal noise in return and turned back to your window, sliding a hand into your jacket. .
The car jostled again, wheels catching in the patchy road. You’d been able to land your ship well enough outside of New Asgard to not hurt anyone, somewhere in the vastness of the forest, but it had been a bumpy landing after a harrowing few weeks free falling through the devastation of your home. You were in no mood for teasing, even if you had missed that glint in Loki’s eye, the way his smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. It had been too long to dwell on that now, you were here to settle with the rest of your people and that was the extent of it. It was nothing to do with Loki at all.
Another noise escaped your lips as the road took a sharp turn and this time Loki noticed, turning his head slightly, you refused to think about the way the upturned collar of his coat emphasised the sharpness of his cheekbones. Why would you care about such a thing anyway?
“Are you injured, vennen?”
“No.”
“Are you certain, you made a noise?”
“Do you not think me capable of assessing my own bodily needs?” You snapped, digging your fingernails into your palms in an effort to stave off the groaning pain in your side.
“As you wish.” He sighed, holding a hand up as if in surrender and turning his eyes back to the road, now turning this way and that as it made its way back down the mountainside. At each turn the wheels of the car span in the mud and snow caked along the side of the road, and each time you stifled your pain.
The road evened out again and Loki put his foot down, slush and snow spraying up the sides of the 4 x 4 as he sped through the night.
“Careful, Loki, we’ll -” your warning was cut short, the back two wheels fishtailed, dragging the car across the road in a wide circle before coming to a stop. Loki hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand.
“By the norns, this infernal fucking machine!” He griped.
“I told you to - “
“Yes, yes.” He lowered his forehead to the wheel and took a deep breath. “Let me inspect it.”
He opened the door, bracing against the gust of wind whipping up the open path the road made through the otherwise dense forest. The door closed with such finality that for a moment you were alone again, suspended in the debris of a former life and wishing for home. You couldn’t take the silence and, though your skin stretched painfully around your injuries, you opened your door too.
Loki ran his fingers through his hair, leaving the long dark waves spiked and tangled to be played with by the wind. There was a huge patch of ice in the middle of the road leading back up the mountain. He placed one hand on the back window to steady himself, his mind reeling, he could’ve hurt you. In his haste to get back to the village he could’ve hurt you.
The slamming of the door echoed through the trees and he looked up to see you shivering in the snow. You were dressed for space, not for Norway, fitted leather leggings and tunic hugging every familiar curve of your body, he only had to glance at you to remember the feel of you when you’d last sparred in Asgard, your waist corseted beneath his palms, the beat of your heart so close to his, your breath, ghosting over his lips before you’d pulled away abruptly and left him lying there in the dirt.
Your only sensible clothes were your boots, heavy and solid, and your jacket, padded and warm against the cold of your spaceship, but not the biting ice of a Norwegian winter.
Loki looked away, the car wasn’t buried in the snow or stuck in the mud, it would be fine with a shove. But when he looked up you had gone, your footprints leading to the edge of the forest.
He followed, concerned, despite your warrior training. Loki breathed a sigh of relief when he saw you brushing snow from the needles of a fir tree, pressing the flakes into a small ball. His mouth lifted at the corner, so it was going to be snowballs, he could play that game. Loki’s magic shimmered as he gathered snow into a perfectly formed sedir built snowball, but paused. Instead of turning and throwing it, as he expected, you lifted the ice to your face, wincing. His hand opened and the snowball fell to the permafrost with a dull thud.
“Loki,” you looked surprised, dropping your ice as well and wiping your face with the sleeve of your jacket.
“What happened to your face? Why are you icing it?”
“Nothing, it’s nothing. Can we leave? Is this thing broken? The carar?” You eyed it warily and it occurred to Loki that despite all your time travelling in space, you’d never actually been to Midgard. “It doesn’t appear to be very sturdy considering the conditions.”
“The car,” he smiled, “is fine. Your chariot awaits, my lady.” He opened the door and you allowed him to help you back into the passenger seat, if only to hide your other injuries.
Loki kicked the snow from the tires and used a gust of magic to blow the snow from the solid mud beneath before returning to the car.
“I have become accustomed to the ways of this planet over many years and I forget that for you, this is your first visit.” he said, quietly, as soon as the road evened out again,
Loki never took his eyes from the road, but you saw the subtle twitch in his jaw, knew the movement all too well, he couldn’t say sorry, but he would admit his faults in his own way and hope that you forgave him.
“Everything is new here.” You answered, quietly, an acceptance of his statement, no acknowledgement of his apology.
The next bend was more gentle and Loki took the angle slowly, but you still hissed, biting your lip to hide the pain.
“You have hurt yourself.”
“It’s nothing.”
“If it were nothing, you would be silent.” Loki raised an eyebrow, peering ahead into the dark night and spotting a gravelled area away from the road with a picnic bench, bin and parking space.
He’d spotted it on the way out too, there’d been a few cars parked there with their headlights on, a group of friends in huge coats and hats sharing a flask of something steaming hot and toasting each other. Now, in the darkness, there was none of the warmth of their gathering left, but at least there was a quiet.
Loki put his arm over the back of your seat, his palm flat on the wheel as he reversed the Land Rover into the middle space, and you pressed your knees together at the memory of his hands on the tiller of the flying faerings as you raced them between the pillars of the bridges on Asgard. He had the same easy grace, his fingers dancing on the metal as they did over the leather of the wheel. You squeezed harder, ignoring that same building of fire and need you’d experience then as well. This was nothing, there was nothing, between the two of you. He had been sent as a courtesy, you had arrived because you had nowhere else to go.
“Let me look.” He ordered, removing his seat belt and pushing his seat back so he could turn to face you properly.
“No, it’s under my shirt.” You protested, pressing your hand harder into your rib. “Besides, it’s probably just broken. I’ll bandage it when you take me to my lodgings.”
“Move your hand.” His voice had dropped slightly, more akin to the Princely demands you were used to him making, his eyes were dark, the sharp angle of his cheekbones picked out by the harsh interior light.
“You can’t order me about, Loki, you’re not in charge here.”
“I am still concerned, please, let me see.” Those dark eyes softened, and he reached his hand out to pull your jacket away from your body. Between your fingers the soft brown and bronze of your tunic had turned maroon, the bloom of blood soaking through like watercolour. “You’re bleeding.” His eyes roved from the poppy shaped stain emerging from beneath your fingers to your face. “You’re bleeding and you kept this from me.”
“It’s nothing, I’ll fix it later.”
“It’s not nothing, please let me help you.” He tugged on your sticky fingers, the residue of your blood staining his own long digits and for a moment you allowed his hand to hold your own and then -
“I don’t need your help,” you snatched it back.
“Please, let me -”
“No.”
“I can fix it for you, I can help.”
“I don’t need your help, Loki. I don’t - I don’t need it, I learned to live without you.” You stormed, tugging your coat back around you to hide the evidence of your injury. Even facing the window you could see his stunned face behind you, reflected in the darkness beyond.
“You learned to live without me?” Loki sighed, his shoulders sagging under the weight of your words. “Vennen -”
“Don’t call me that, don’t call me that when you know we are not friends, I am nothing to you and -”
Loki reached across the centre console of the car to touch your shoulder but you flinched, eyes staring out at the road again, unable to look at Loki or his reflection.
“How can you say that?” Loki withdrew again, brows furrowed, “how could you think you are nothing to me?”
“Where were you?” You rounded on him, “where were you that was so much more amusing than being with us, I thought you dead and gone, I thought you buried on some fearful planet far from Valhalla for all eternity, I thought I would never see you again in this life or the next and - and - and you have the audacity to collect me like some lost thing on this planet and expect me to fall in step beside you as always, well. No more. No more, Loki. I don’t need you. Take me to see the King and leave me there as you always do.” Tears spilled over your cheeks, dropping in heavy splashes on your hands as you bent to hide your angry sobbing. But the movement only caused further pain, blood spilling from under your tunic onto your lap.
In a moment Loki was by your side, the car door open and his arms wrapped around you, holding you close to his chest as he carried you to the back of the vehicle. He set you down gently, opening the door at the back and sitting you on the open ledge.
“I must tend to this wound now, before it gets worse. They don’t have the same technology here yet, our doctors -” he paused, swallowing down the guilt that he couldn’t have saved more of his people during Ragnarok and quashed the feeling for another day, “we are short on doctors, should something happen to the wound -” he trailed off, opening a small green box that had been hooked onto the door.
He warred with himself, fighting down the urge to defend all that he’d done, the pain it had caused him to leave his friends and family for so long.
“Fine.” You conceded and pulled your tunic up as high as you could, revealing the large gash in your side. Norns, it was worse than you’d thought, curving around your side, over a rib or two and down towards the top of your trousers.
Loki’s touch was gentle as he mopped up the blood, wringing the cloth clean with his magic until he could see each side of the cut clearly. Every touch made goosebumps erupt on your skin, the tingle of his magic mixing with the softness of his touch, the warmth of his fingers.
“What happened to you?”
“I told you, my ship is supposed to stay in space, it’s not supposed to enter the atmosphere.”
It had begun burning up on entry, flames licking up the sides of the small craft and you’d squeezed your eyes shut, bracing against the inevitable fall. You didn’t remember the landing, only waking up with your own blood on your hands, shards of metal surrounding you and feeling colder than you ever had before.
“We should have sent someone to meet you, I - I apologise.” Loki kept his eyes cast down, long fingers fiddling with a needle and thread.
“Yes, you should have.” You looked down at him, crouched by your legs in the snow, the ice no doubt biting through his leathers already and he looked up, eyes wide and wet with unhushed tears.
“I am, truly, sorry, for what I made you go through. Please, will you forgive me?” He set the now threaded needle down on its sterile tray and placed his hands on your thighs instead, his hands were cold now, but a wave of warm sedir washed over you, brushing away the shivers wracking your body.
“Maybe, Loki -”
“I know, I have a lot of apologising to do, I don’t deserve your forgiveness-”
But he was considering it, it was the first time you’d ever heard the words uttered from him, and it made your heart yearn for the safe harbour of his friendship again, even if you knew better than to believe the storms were over.
“It’s not that, it just, it still hurts, I want to forgive you, but it still hurts.”
A frozen tear held steady in the corner of his eye, but he nodded in understanding.
“Can you at least forgive me the pain this will cause,” he tipped his head towards the needle, “I can numb you as much as possible, but I have no doubt it will sting.” With a flourish he produced a cut glass with a healthy measure of whisky inside, “drink this first.”
You downed the burning amber in one gulp, allowing it to warm you deeply and nodded. Loki stood, that familiar glimmer of gold and green drying his wet legs and knees, removing the snow that clung to his coat.
“Lay back,” he removed his coat and folded it, placing it under your head as he helped you lean into the boot of the car. Prone and cold with your tunic shucked up to your armpits you felt ridiculous and exposed, but there was no teasing when Loki asked if you were happy for him to start.
The first stitch was the most painful, but his cold fingers made your skin numb as he worked quickly and steadily until the aching pain was at least unaccompanied by the hot seeping of your blood through your fingers.
Loki stood back, surveying his work in the cold white light from the tiny bulb in the car’s interior, and brushed his damp hair back from his face. “Does that feel better?”
“Yes, thank you.” Swiftly you pulled your tunic down, and shuffled to sit on the ledge of the boot again, feet hanging off the edge.
Loki left you like that, pacing away from the car and surveying the road ahead. The snowfall had increased since you stopped and the drifts were now encroaching further into the already narrow track. It would be a treacherous trip back down the rest of the mountain.
“I think we should camp here tonight.” He said, steadily, though his heart beat wildly beneath his sweater.
“Loki, it’s freezing cold, below freezing.”
“It’s one of my brother’s friends’ cars.” Loki said, flippantly, as if that explained anything at all instead of raising a hundred new questions.
You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to elaborate.
“It has - things - inside. He spent some time with the Avengers? You must have heard of them, terribly annoying, but I must say their accessories are very helpful.” He stared at you waiting for you to understand.
“You and Thor and your little Midgardians,” you laughed, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but let's see these accessories that will keep us warm in a car in the snow.”
Loki stretched out his hand, helping you get your feet back on the ground. You felt dizzy after your stitches and the no doubt centuries old whisky Loki had conjured for you, but he held your arm politely while he walked you over to a picnic bench.
“Settle here and all will be revealed.”
He allowed himself a smile and, unbidden, you smiled too. It was hard to remain angry when this was all you’d wanted for so long, this adventure into the unknown was exactly what you’d been missing.
Loki ruffled his hair again in thought before pushing the long, icy strands away from his face. He examined the car, then pushed the rear seats down flat. With a hum they fell forwards, creating a wide flat platform. He pulled at another lever and the carpeted floor flipped over, revealing a padded mattress beneath.
You laughed in shock, what funny contraptions these Midgardians had. Loki allowed his smile to linger, listening to the tinkle of your laugh in the quiet woodland, it echoed and returned to you both ten fold until you were both laughing. He pulled again and a second mattress appeared so that the entire back of the car was now a bed.
He shut the door to conserve the heat inside and used the step at the side of the car to reach into the roof box, pulling out a metal box.
“That’s quite the trick, Loki.” You conceded, still smiling at the simple joy of it. To hide a bed inside a vehicle, you couldn’t help another giggle.
“Well, it comes in very handy when I find myself stranded in the wilderness,” he winked, opening the tin box and extracting an odd metal item, cups, a small pan and what looked like powdered food.
“What’s that?” You wrinkled your nose as he flicked something on the side, pumping a few times and then allowing a spark of magic to dance across the circular top. Fire erupted from between the spokes of the circle and you jumped backwards in shock before bursting out into another uncontrollable laugh. “Loki! What is that?!”
“It’s a camping stove, I thought we could make hot chocolates.” He looked over shyly now, a peace offering.
“That doesn’t look like chocolate,” you picked up one of the brown packets, on the front was a picture of a steaming mug, but inside was definitely powder and not solid chocolate.
“It’s a sort of powdered drink, I need to get some water.”
“Not cream?”
“That would spoil the fun, would it not?” He grinned, pouring water into the pan from his canteen.
As he worked you wound your jacket tighter around yourself, wondering if your nose was frozen or if it was normal to not be able to feel it. After a few minutes he lifted the pan from the odd round fire and poured the contents into the enamel mugs, handing one to you.
Warily you sniffed it and then took a tentative sip, it was fine, you supposed, “it tastes nicer with cream.”
Loki’s smile turned indulgent and, in a swirl of green, a silver bowl appeared settled in the snow atop the picnic bench, laden with heavy, whipped cream. Delighted you spooned out a generous helping and stirred it into your drink. Sipping it slowly before turning your eyes back to Loki.
He looked resplendent in the moonlight, snow glittering over his night black clothes, the sweater only accentuating his broad shoulders and lean waist. You longed to wrap your arms around him and press yourself into his embrace, to feel as close as you once had. Everything felt different now, you had spent so much time apart that the idle games of your shared youth were just a distant memory.
“We should get back in the car.” He announced. Now that he’d accomplished all the practical tasks that he could think of to help you, he found himself lost for words. Your admission that he had left you, failed you, somehow was a deep and painful wound. He hadn’t intended to leave and never return, he had always meant to stay and yet some force always dragged him away. It had even dragged him here. Loki had been distraught when he realised you were not on the transport out of Asgard, only reassured by Valkyrie’s insistence that you were safe, travelling.
“I’m going to put my boots by the seats, so we don’t get snow in the beds.”
Loki didn’t look around as you made your way slowly back to the car, politely angling his head away so that he didn’t see you slide out of your wet clothes either.
“You can enter.” You called, now wrapped in the thick sleeping bag that lined the mattresses.
Loki opted for magic to create his own privacy, his black sweater and jeans vanishing in favour of black sweat pants and a long green t-shirt. You smiled again, so Midgardian, he looked nothing like the swaggering prince you knew, always bedecked in silk and sumptuous fabrics. He looked, normal.
“Do I have chocolate on my face?” He asked, climbing into his own sleeping bag.
“No, it’s nothing.” You sighed and, with a flicker, the cabin light went out plunging you into darkness.
In the vastness of the night, cold fingers sought your own, the fingertips pressing into your palm.
“I truly did not mean to leave Asgard for so long.” Loki whispered, “it was a fate not of my own making.”
You sighed, rolling onto your back and away from his hand. “I believe you.” Focussing on your tired limbs you attempted to sleep, closing your eyes and exchanging one darkness for another. But sleep refused to take you, dangling you on the precipice of unconsciousness, only to remind you of all that you had lost, before you could plunge into oblivion. You woke again, your heart in your throat, your stomach in knots, and Loki lay beside you.
His features were relaxed, his breathing even, the lines of his cheekbones looked softer, somehow, now that his lips were partially open. The temperature must have cooled, for each breath was like a will-o-the-wisp, dancing from between his plush lips and fogging the windows. How you wished you could join him in sleep again, you couldn’t remember when your dreams had taken you, but the moon had moved around the car so sleep must have found you somehow.
Betrayed by your own hands you reached out for him, touching his arm with a single finger, just to make sure he was still there.
“If you are cold, vennen, you have only to say.” His voice startled you, your hand jumping back as if burnt.
“I - I didn't mean to.”
Eyes still closed, lashes brushing his cheeks, he held his hand out and you took it. Snow had covered the little glass window in the roof of the car, so you could no longer see the stars. All was gone, yet Loki lay here with you, his fingers laced with your own.
“I did not wish to cause you pain, truly, it was not your doing nor did you deserve to suffer because of it.”
“I know, Loki.”
“Will you let me make it better for you?”
You turned to meet his ice blue eyes, still sparkling, filmed with tears he was too scared to shed.
“There is nothing to be done to bring Asgard back.”
“I am aware,” he smiled, “but I wish to heal you nevertheless.”
“You have stitched me, that is all that can be done.”
“Vennen,” you looked at him again, his face serious, “let me heal this between us.”
You stared back, confused, and then his free hand reached out and cupped your bruised cheek and that was all you saw before his lips were on yours.
Loki tasted like expensive whisky and dark chocolate, his lips like velvet, warm and soft as they brushed against your own. You fit together so perfectly that you couldn't help but roll closer, pressing a hand to his chest and feeling the warmth of his heart beat beneath.
But then the stitches over your ribs pulled, your hiss of pain swallowed by Loki's protective kiss. With gentle hands he rolled your back, hovering over you and blotting out the darkness with his smile.
“If you hurt yourself more, I shall have to continue to heal you.” His lips skated over yours, so tantalisingly close.
“Then I suppose I’ll need to crash my ship again,” you smiled up at him, your Loki, and for the first time since you’d landed you didn’t feel the pain or the cold or the fear of a new place. Only Loki’s lips on yours and the knowledge that he would never leave you again.
The title is from Shakespeare's Sonnet 97:
How like a winter hath my absence been
From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!
What old December’s bareness every where!
And yet this time removed was summer’s time,
The teeming autumn, big with rich increase,
Bearing the wanton burden of the prime,
Like widow’d wombs after their lords’ decease:
Yet this abundant issue seem’d to me
But hope of orphans and unfather’d fruit;
For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,
And, thou away, the very birds are mute;
Or, if they sing, ’tis with so dull a cheer
That leaves look pale, dreading the winter’s near.
#loki fanfiction#loki laufeyson#loki fic#loki fluff#loki x reader#loki x female reader#Loki x Asgardian!Reader#Loki/Reader#loki/female reader#loki hurt/comfort
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I'm Proud of You
Loki Laufeyson x f!reader
Warnings: Suggestions at problematic friends/family/people. Loki's over-protectiveness, maybe? Swearing, um. Probably a lot of bad sentence structure and grammar and horrible flow if that bothers anyone
A/N: This is shitty and really absolutely horrible and trash, it's 2:20am, I'm tired and I feel so fucking drained and I'm so done with everyone, and I guess Loki's who I always turn to in shitty times. I might take this down later, given how I wrote it in like an hour and it's probably sooo OOC, but I needed some comfort, so here's this I guess?
If you're having a hard day, or have been having a hard time, please know that you're amazing and if no one's told you, I'm proud of you for being here <3
-Clem
Synopsis: Loki's there, through the good and the bad.
Word count: 1.5k
Fucking stupid.
You slammed the door to your room, feeling tears sting your eyes. You knew you shouldn’t be feeling this hurt, but you genuinely couldn’t ease the ache in your chest, and as hard as you wiped at your eyes, the tears just fell down your face. You felt a sob build up your throat as you collapsed on your bed, the exhaustion of the day finally washing over you. Today was supposed to be a good day. It wasn’t meant to end with you crying.
You crawled up to your pillow, burying your face in it as you cried your heart out.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
You couldn’t stop the sobs ripping out of you no matter how hard you tried.
It’s stupid, you shouldn’t be crying over something so small, but sometimes it just hits and you just can’t stop it. You had no idea how long you sat there crying, but your loud sobs slowly turned into quiet hiccups and gasps, and your flowing tears became sniffles and painful breathing. It was like everything hurt, and somehow even after all those tears shed, your eyes still watered whenever you thought about it.
You sniffled, rolling onto your back and staring at the ceiling of your room. This is fucking stupid.
Doesn’t mean it hurt any less. You wiped your cheeks, taking a deep breath.
Okay. It’s fine. This is fine.
You stared at your room, your breathing slowly down as you worked through the last bit of emotional troubles.
You blinked once, twice, and suddenly you were hyper aware of how alone you were, of how it reminded you of all those times you cried quietly in the bathroom so no one could hear you.
Huh.
You let out a sort of half laugh that dissolved into another sob as fresh tears sprung in your eyes.
Alone.
Just like always.
You dug the heels of your palms into your eyes, trying to stop yourself from another breakdown, but you could feel your cheeks getting wet as you curled up on yourself, knees pulled tightly to your chest as a new wave of sobs wracked through your body. You didn’t realise someone had entered your room until you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, moving down to rub your back softly. You gasped quietly, surprised by the touch until you looked up and saw Loki smiling softly.
“I-” You started, your voice raw from crying, but Loki only shook his head.
“Sh, it’s alright,” He scooted closer onto the bed, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into him. You sobbed harder as he flooded your senses- his lingering scent of leather and earth, his touch making your skin buzz with joy.
The tears came faster now as you buried your face in his chest, fisting his shirt tightly.
Loki.
Loki, here. Right now.
You felt a sense of relief crash through your system as you melted completely into him, your body moulding against his as he stroked your hair and whispered soft things to you, his hold on you tight and secure.
Loki. Loki. Loki.
Loki.
His name rang through your head a dozen times, as if your brain was trying to process the fact that he was here.
Loki didn’t let go of his tight hold on you until your sobs faded into ragged breathing and sniffles. He pulled away just a little to look at you properly, his hand coming up to wipe your cheeks.
“My beautiful girl,” He pressed a kiss to your head. “Who’s making you cry, darling, hm?” His voice was soft, loving and easy like it always was, but you could swear up and down that there was something angry hiding behind it, and when you looked up at him properly, you were absolutely certain his eyes were storming with a growing anger.
Is he angry at me? You thought, but then his gaze softened as if he heard you, and he pressed another kiss to your forehead.
“You can take your time, yes? I’ll wait until you want to talk,”
You shake your head, “Don’t wanna talk about it,”
“Alright, that’s perfectly fine. You know I’d never ask you to tell me something you don’t want to share,” He smiled then, but there was something twisted about it. “But, if someone is making my precious goddess hurt like this, and cause her such distress, I’ll need a story eventually,”
“Why?” You hiccuped, resting your head on his chest as you fiddled with the hem of his shirt. You could feel the last of your breakdown work its way through your systems, and being in Loki’s arms helped. “So you could go beat them up?”
He stayed quiet, and your head snapped up to look at him. “Loki.”
“Yes, darling?” He tried to feign an innocent look.
“You can’t go beating up people,”
“But I won’t. Beating up is a truly ugly way of saying it. I’d never “beat up” someone. It’s disgraceful to my title as a god,”
You shake your head again, wiping the last of your tears from your eyes. “Still can’t hurt people,”
“Why not? They hurt you,”
“Yeah but-”
“But?”
“It’s unethical?” You tried to reason.
He raised an eyebrow. “Right,” He absolutely did not sound convinced.
In all honesty, at the back of your mind, you really didn’t have much against him going out after them. Well, maybe not to kill them, but maybe a little chat. It was kind of…romantic? Hot? That he was ready to shed blood just at the sight of you in tears. You sighed, the simple act of thinking thoughts making you feel heavy. You wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug. “I’m so tired,” You mumbled.
“Did you sleep last night?”
“Not that kind of tired,”
You felt exhausted just having this conversation.
“Ah, I see. How about….we cuddle and sleep, and then,” He kissed your forehead again. “When you wake up, I’ll run you a bath, and get you some food, and if you feel ready to talk, we’ll talk. If not, we can do…anything else you wish to do,” He smiled. “What do you think?”
Your heart squeezed. We. We. We. We.
He was a part of you, even on the bad days.
“Okay,” You nodded slowly. “Sounds good,” With a snap of his fingers, he had you changed out of your regular clothes and into the comfiest PJs you had. He didn’t even bother detaching himself, simply lifting you up with him as he moved into the bed properly and laying down, his body pressed as close to yours as possible. You didn’t really talk much after that, just laying together in bed as you felt the day catch up to you as your mind drifted in and out of sleep. Loki held you tight, peppering kisses anywhere he could.
“I know you think the world’s out for you,” He said softly. You hummed, his words slowly processing through your sleepy brain. “I thought so too. But then, I met you,” He rubbed your sides. “And things were still hard, and it was still painful, but I was given someone to share that pain with. Someone who could ease the ache a little and make it easier to breathe,” His voice dropped to a gentle whisper as you pressed closer to him, his words wrapping around your heart as you yawned lightly.
“I know you’re hurting, and I know sometimes it’s too much to share, but I hope you know that whatever it is that bothers you, you can tell me. And,” He tightened his hold on you, smiling a little when he realised you were half way asleep. “I hope you know that I’m incredibly proud of you, my little mortal, for being so strong despite it all. You helped me learn so much, and you gave me a new reason to live. You’re beautiful, kind and so talented. I’m proud of you for everything you do- even something as little as drinking water. I love you more than you could possibly know,”
You reached up and covered his face with your hand in a bad attempt to stop him from talking. You still felt shitty, and something in you still hurt, but his words seemed to almost…crack through that, and plant a little piece of happiness in there.
He laughed, taking your hand and kissing it.
“What was that one quote? The one people use all the time?”
You hummed sleepily. “Dunno,”
He paused, thinking, before his eyes sparked with realisation. “If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more,” He kissed your hand again.
You chuckled softly, before yawning again. “Oh, that one,” That was cute. “So cheesy,”
“Right, I’ll stop talking then,” He pulled you closer. At this rate, he might just be trying to absorb your soul into him.
“I like hearing you talk though,” You squeezed his hand lightly.
“Then we’ll talk plenty more later,” He kissed your head again, and you smiled softly as sleep started to wash over you.
Breakdowns really were draining.
“I absolutely adore you, my perfect girl,” He said, and as you fell asleep, you couldn’t help but think, you’re not alone anymore.
Loki was here.
Loki was always here.
#enjoy or whatever.#tried so hard not to pour all my issues in this so it could at least be as general of a comfort thing as possible.#loki laufeyson#loki x reader#mcu#marvel#loki#loki x f!reader#loki comfort#loki laufeyson fic#loki fluff#loki laufeyson fluff#loki marvel#loki of asgard
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"Please, rest your eyes with me.."
Loki x Stressed!Reader
Fandom: Marvel
(Y/N) had been working very long hours after being given a co-worker's workload for the week on top of her own work. Presentations, emails to important clients and sponsors, meetings, reports and all of that again, but for her sick co-worker. It's been a couple of days. No sleep, small and nutritious meals, and too many phone calls. Loki grew concerned with his lover and decided to make sure they finally rested for the night.
Requests: Closed.
Requested: no.
Warning(s): Overly sweet. Pure fluff, no smut. There's a bathing together scene, but it's fluff. I repeat: fluff <3
Note: Reader is a woman :)
Word Count: 1,509
[Third Person Perspective]
(I couldn't find a source for this on Pinterest. But his expression is fantastic <3)
The sound of tapping and clicking was Loki's usual ambiance for the past couple of days now. Well, to be more specific, it was the sound of keyboard typing. His beautiful girlfriend had been working hard with no sleep and terrible take-out meals for a couple of days and Loki had been too busy to fully realize until now. The hard-work his significant other was putting in had simply been background ambiance as he darted back and forth between rooms trying to help Stark organize another party whilst Stark was actively fighting with Rogers.
So Loki being the newest Avenger was forced to run back and forth, helping the two to plan the party without a huge argument. This also meant that Loki had to keep the peace, write lists of different things both 'manchilds' wanted at the party, do some decoration planning with Natasha and keep his promise to Thor by spending an afternoon in town together. The past two days had been hectic, but Loki managed to survive - albeit very tiredly. Now he finally had a chance to settle down and enjoy a nice rest day. Except...he couldn't relax.
He had hoped his lover would take a few ten minute breaks here and there. Maybe take a break whilst eating. Perhaps not take her phone to the bathroom to continue working. Not only to have a small minute break, but for hygienic reasons as well. Loki made a mental note to carefully wipe over her phone later. Sadly, (Y/N) continued to work hard at her laptop, typing up presentations and then jumping to answer emails and then jumping back to the presentation. Yesterday, Stark said she had done a very long report on the many benefits of a small coffee shop that connects to the office.
Something as ridiculous as that seemed unbelievable to Loki. But considering how some midguardians loved their useless work and fancy little reports, he eventually believed Stark wasn't lying. To Loki it was simple: if a major corporation wanted a tiny, cheap, coffee shop? Then they would just build it with their vast amounts of money and make that quick profit. But according to Stark those mortals loved making sponsors pay for it instead. Millionaires that kept the business from using their own money on literally anything.
Millionaires that needed to be persuaded into putting a couple thousand dollars into a small project by fancy looking graphs, reports and who knows what else. Gosh, just sitting there thinking about all that had given him a headache. He checked the time and decided that 10:00pm was far too late for (Y/N) to be working. Loki stood up, stretched his aching arms a bit and headed straight to the kitchen. If his darling angel wasn't going to finish work and rest on her own, he would make her.
Loki made two very sweet, hot cups of tea, grabbed an advil and sat in front of (Y/N). "Here you go, my love. You've been working for so many hours you missed dinner tonight." He spoke softly.
"Oh, wow. The time sure went by fast." (Y/N) sighed out, stretching her arms a bit and accepting the much needed cup of tea. "Thank-you, Loki. This is delicious." She smiled and visibly relaxed from the soothing sweetness.
"I'm delighted to hear that. I was going to play some music and enjoy a nice bath. Would you please join me? I dearly miss your company." Loki did his best to sound suave and inviting in hopes (Y/N) would accept rather than work more. He just needed to get her away from the laptop for some rest for at least one night. At her current rate, she'd just faint from exhaustion and run herself into the ground and Loki wanted desperately to avoid that.
"Oh, Loki. You know I would love to join you, but I've got so much work right now...I don't know if I can afford to spend time away from these slides." She strained her eyes to look back at the blaring screen. She didn't even have a blue light filter on...or dark mode...she could be so silly sometimes. But Loki smiled fondly.
"Just for a few minutes, darling? Please? For me?" He tucked some strands of hair out of her face and met her gaze with a pout she couldn't say 'no' to.
"Oh...alright, you and your adorable face..." She sighed in defeat, "Just let me fix this up and save this and I'll join you." She returned to the screen one more time and Loki watched the clock with a mental timer of five minutes. He moved quickly and got the bath ready with warm water, a sleepy scented candle, he changed the bathroom light to a soft orange and grabbed the softest cloth he could find in the bathroom. Finally, he turned on (Y/N)'s favourite, calm songs and played them on low from a speaker in the bathroom.
Next, he went to her room and pulled out her most comfortable t-shirt and pants, grabbing her towel as well and then headed back to the bathroom after grabbing his own things. He returned after five minutes of setting up the bath and tapped her on the shoulder. "It's been five minutes, please finish that last graph and save, darling. The bath is ready and warm."
"Oh, already? Alright, I'll finish this and save." She promised. She worked on the graph for another minute and once it was finished Loki quickly intervened before she could move onto another unfinished graph. He gently placed his hand over hers, gaining back her attention, and he slowly dragged the cursor to the save icon before minimizing the screen.
"Come, darling. Let's get you into some nice clean clothes that will hopefully be more comfortable than your work attire." (Y/N) stared up at him before slowly registering what he said and finally looking down at her clothing. She had completely forgotten she was even in her work clothes still. She simply nodded and followed Loki to the bathroom for what she thought would be a quick bath and then back to work. But Loki had other plans: making sure she slept.
His plan went exactly as he had expected. The soft, orange light would help her brain wind down from the constant blue light that definitely disrupted her brain's sleeping pattern. The soft music she would play to fall asleep with, the sweet tea settling in her stomach, the warm bath water and the sweet scented candle. He made sure to scrub the soap in gently and take his time.
She leaned back against him and sighed against his chest, feeling sore from sitting hunched over, but overall she was relaxed. Her eyes grew heavy and harder to keep open until they slowly drifted shut. Loki carefully carried her out of the water and wrapped her up in her fluffy towel whilst he drained the bath water and made sure to tidy everything up. She was still awake, desperately fighting sleep so she could get back to work. But her body wouldn't cooperate. She was exhausted.
Loki finished drying her and helped her dress. He brushed her hair back into a neat plait and made sure she brushed her teeth. He washed up as well and then lead her to the bedroom for a good night's rest. At this point, she was too tired to fight back. But she still attempted. "No....Loki..." She whined. "I have to get back to work now..." She groaned.
"Please, rest your eyes with me..." Loki hushed her stubbornness. "...Just for a few minutes, love. For me?"
"Fine...like...five minutes.." She groaned and stumbled into bed, almost falling asleep immediately.
"Thank-you, love. I've missed your company." Loki laid down beside her and pulled the covers up, turning on some rainy ambiance and pulling her into a cuddle - spooning her with an arm draped across her waist.
Hearing a soft groan and sigh, he smiled and kissed the top of her head. His plan was successful and he felt very proud of his lover for being such a hard-worker. He also felt very proud of himself for remembering how to help a mortal unwind after a long day. The orange light and soft music was all Stark's advice when Loki had first started dating (Y/N). Apparently midguardians brains worked slightly differently to Asgardians, and needed help to slow down to sleep.
Once soft snores and little bits of strange sleep talk drifted from his lover, he knew she was fast asleep. He finally allowed himself to sleep for the night as well. "Goodnight, love." He whispered, half asleep. "I love you."
"...Love you...too..." She spoke back - still dead asleep. Talking in one's sleep was still an interesting phenomenon to Loki, but he'll have to ask about that at some other time. For now, he was quite content to just cuddle his lover and drift off into sweet dreams.
#loki x reader#fanfiction#comfort#stressed reader#fluff#x reader#comforting myself#writing this fic made me feel better
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**MASTERLIST**
Title board by the fantabulous @mochie85!
After an accident reveals your secret ability to kill with a single touch, S.H.I.E.L.D. tracks you down, turning you over to Nick Fury to be locked away. Immediately considered a Level One Threat, not a single one of the Avengers will listen to your pleas, until Loki, your least likely advocate, strikes a deal: he will take you away to New Asgard for one year to mentor you in the ways of magic, both dark and light. If you can pass a test at the end of said year, you win your freedom. If not, you may be deemed too dangerous to live.
With your life in the hands of the God of Mischief, you are forced to confront the mysterious pull of your morbid gift...as well as the even more mysterious pull you begin to feel towards your mentor, a being with his own demons to confront.
Pairing: Soft!Dom!Loki x F!Reader
Content Warnings: smut, extensive mentions of death, euthanasia, and death-related philosophy, some dark content (though the characters won't be), exile, moodiness, smut, kinks of various flavors (look for specific chapter warnings), trauma and mental illness, reader is a captive, reader has a body count
Based on THIS ONE SHOT
Prologue: Last Christmas
Lesson One
Lesson Two
Lesson Three
Lesson Four
Lesson Five
Lesson Six
Lesson Seven
Lesson Eight
Lesson Nine
Lesson Ten
Lesson Eleven
Lesson Twelve
Lesson Thirteen
Lesson Fourteen
Lesson Fifteen
Lesson Sixteen
Lesson Seventeen
Lesson Eighteen
Lesson Nineteen
Lesson Twenty
The Final Test
Epilogue: Next Christmas
@kats72 @violethaze @cheekyscamp @javagirl328 @yelkmelk @mischief2sarawr @buttercupcookies-blog @lokidokieokie @fictive-sl0th @jaidenhawke @caothicshit @holdmytesseract @anukulee @joyful-enchantress @simplyholl @meowmeow-motherfucker @huntress-artemiss @lokisgoodgirl
PLEASE REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU WISH TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST!
#loki#fanfiction#mcu#mcu loki#loki fanfiction#mcu fanfiction#loki laufeyson#loki x reader#loki/reader#loki smut#death#smut#reaper#dark fic#reader has powers#reader insert#drama/angst#comfort#new asgard#valkyrie#thor#nick fury#shield
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Shenanigans with Loki
Pairing: Loki & GN!Reader
Summary: Reader teases Loki, ridiculous fluff ensues. This is just incredibly silly, but it makes me smile lol
Warnings: none really, pure fluff; slight tickling ig but it’s not the focus
Words: 238
Masterlist | Request Guidelines
(gif is mine :))
It was quiet at the tower. Quiet was dangerous. So easily disturbed…
You grin mischievously as you watch Loki out of the corner of your eye. It had been too long since you’d messed with him.
"You know, you’re kinda greasy Lokes.,” you muse with a slight teasing edge to your voice. He puts a hand to his chest in mock shock.
"Greasy?! I am a prince, you adorable little troll," he says with affectionate contempt.
"Mm. A greasy prince." A wide smirk starts spreading across your face as you start slowly backing out of the room before turning and making a hasty retreat.
Loki looks after you with confusion.
"I believe they wish you to chase them, brother," Thor informs him with more than a little amusement.
"Childish games," Loki grumbles under his breath as he strides out of the room. As soon as he's rounded the corner and is out of Thor's view, though, he grins as he breaks into a run.
He finds you around the next bend and wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you up and spinning you around, halting your escape. You squeal, giggling like a child, as he lightly tickles your ribs.
"Stop! Stop, please, I yield! I yield! You win," you laugh, out of breath and he lets up but doesn't release you.
"I always do," he teases, pressing a quick kiss to your temple and letting you go.
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#avengers tower era fics where they all live together happily ever after 🙃#loki x reader#loki x you#loki x y/n#loki x gender neutral reader#loki x gn!reader#loki fluff#loki comfort#loki laufeyson#loki fanfic#mcu loki#loki drabble#loki fic#loki imagine#loki#marvel fanfiction#marvel imagine
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Neigbors and headaches
Pairing: Loki×Fem!Reader (other than some thirst, platonic)
Warnings: intense pain, some thirst, touch of angst and lots of fluff/comfort.
Word Count: ~1.700
Thank you @tessathechild for proof reading and helping me! 💙
What, Sel has actually managed to finish and post something once?! Its a good day!! Yes, this one story made it out of my 22!! drabbles and WIP's I've got.
Just a little thing I wrote, thinking of my migraines I sometines get. Saying that, I have written this based on my experiences with a few extras sprinkled in. So this is a cofort/hurt fic.
Loki has been your neigbor for over a year, but you never really spoke. The occasional 'hello' but that was it. Sure you know who he is, would be hard not to, considering he and his collegues are all over the news. Saying that, you are aware of his powers, his heritage and title, to you that just meant there was somebody in the building able to help in case of a robbery or shooting. Other than that, he was just another neighbour on your floor.
Which brings us to the problem. Youve got a migraine, the worst one youve ever had. Normally its located to one side, but this time its just your whole head, pain thundering against you skull. Three days it plagues you already, which is also the amount of time you barely slept. You got about four hours in total, every time you did fall asleep when the pain let off of you for a while, you got violently ripped from slumber again. It never went away for long. Which only made the sleep deprivation worse. Working in this state has been a challange, actually getting your work done impossible. To your horror, your boss noticed today, threatening to cut your payment short would you not 'change your work ethic'. As if you deliberetly got a migraine keeping you off sleep for days.
And you cant go to the doctor either since you got them on your toes already. The sheer amount of pain medications you get perscribed is, understandably, a red flag. The dosage and intensity of them, an even bigger red flag, but what are you surpossed to do?! They just dont work, none of them did.
Which leads us to you, currently knocking on Lokis, or how you adress him, Mr. Laufeyson, door. Its almost 10pm and the lack of sleep let all your pride melt away. You did not want to bother him, but you just cant bare it anymore. Your job is on the line for crying out loud! After a short time, the door opens; an annoyed Mr. Laufeyson peeking through the gap.
"Can I help you?", he beats you to it, irritation etched in his features.
"I'm sorry to bother you at this hour, but I have a strange request." Your heart is beating in your throat, maybe this wasnt a good idea after all, he does seem pretty annoyed.
"What is it?", he sighs, opening the door a little more.
He is wearing forest green pyjama bottoms and to your delight or horror, you arent quite sure yourself, no top. He looks like a marble statue you would see in renown museums and galleries. His chest is on eye level with you, makeing it difficult to not stare at his neatly trimmed black curls there. Your eyes wander to his perfect pecs, his well defined ribs leading down to his chiselled abdomen. That V-line made your breath catch in your throat for a moment, the small trail of hairs leading back down to that, sinfully, low hanging silk. Your eyes linger on the impressive bulge of your opposite for a second, a cleaning of his throat ringing in your tormented head, makeing you wince briefly. But also, you snapped your eyes up to his face again, your eyes blown wide in shock.
"Is it not a little rude to knock on my door at this hour, just to stare when I ask you a question?", his words seem displeases, but his lips are curled into a knowing smirk.
Now you clear your throat, a blush dusting your cheeks pink "What were you saying again?".
He gave a low chuckle, shakeing his head, "I was asking to what I owe your visit, Miss L/n.".
"Oh, yes, sorry. I- Ive got a bad migraine and could not sleep for three days now. I was wondering-", you stutter but get stopped by him.
"I see. Migraines are quite the torment for midgardians I have heard.", he lays a pointer finger to the bow in his upper lip, thinking.
"Yes. Mine arent affected by pain medications either, I would not bother you if they were.", you tell him earnestly, your eyes dropping to the floor.
"It is rather fine, shall we get to your apartment so I can figure out a way to help you?", he asks with a soft smile that calms you down like a weighted blanket.
"Really? Yes, that would be so nice of you, thank you so much." You sway a little, pulling at your sleeve.
"Let me just get a shirt and some shoes and I will be right there.", he tells you, leaning the door closed.
A moment later he returns, now wearing a basic grey v-neck shirt and some brown slippers. "After you.", he gestures with his hand.
You nod enthusiastically, which you instantly regret, your pain reigniting like pouring gasoline to an open flame. You groan in pain, holding onto the nearest wall, your head feeling like it is sinking and rising repeatedly.
"Are you alright?", he grabs your upper arm, holding you stable.
You groan a "yes".
"I dont think you are, lets get you home, come on.", he hooks an arm around you waist, helping you over to your door.
You dig out your keys, trying to open the door, but your vision is playing tricks on you. He grabs them from your hands, "Allow me.". He quickly has the door open, nudging it open with his foot. Finally inside, with your shoes off and seated on your little two-seater sofa, you look at him. The pain eased off a little by now.
"Thank you, Mr. Laufeyson. I'm very sorry for the trouble.", you twiddle your thumbs.
"No trouble at all. Call me Loki please.", he sits down next to you, a friendly smile playing on his lips.
"Y/n.", you smile back at him. There is a comfortable silenence for a bit, until another groan of yours breaks it.
"Its worse again?", you hear his voice through cotton balls, thats what it sounds like at least.
"Yea.", you whimper, unable to explain it further. He waits until your eyes open again and you take a deep breath.
"So it comes and does in waves?"
"Its always there, but I can function with that pain. But then there are these sudden intense pains that just have me helpless.", you explain to him, noticing you are a bad host, "I'm sorry, would you like something to drink? Tea perhaps?".
He waves it off, "You were barely able to speak a momemt ago, let alone brew tea. I am just fine, thank you. And those pains, are they pulsating, throbbing, stabbing,..?".
You think about it, "The normal, bearable pain is pulsating, the sudden ones are throbbing, like a jackhammer.".
He humms his confirmation and thinks for a moment. "I think I have a spell that could help with that, though only temporaryly I'm afraid.", he looks at you a little sad.
"That sounds good, please just make it stop for now at least.", you beg him, the desperation clear in your voice.
He nods, "Make yourself comfortable.". You lean back into the cushions, to which he whispers, "Very well.".
He turns to face you better, giving you direct view of his jaw muscles. "You will feel a tingling first. After that you will alternately grow cold and very warm. Do not worry, that is totally normal.", he explains to you calmly.
"Understood."
He lays his hand on your head, palm flat against your forehead. You look at it expectedly. "Close your eyes?", he suggest, you follow, "Lovely. Now just stay calm and breathe for me.".
Just as he finishes what he says, you feel your skin tingle, growing warm after a brief moment. Very warm and then suddenly cold. Then warm again, but it stays at a soothing temprature, like a heating pad.
The pain subsides, almost like a wave washing it into nothingness. You smile and humm at the peaceful release from your torment. You havent even noticed in how much pain you were for the last thee days straight, until it was gone.
"Better?", he asks you.
You leave your eyes closed, savouring this moment of peace, you confirm his question with a 'mhhm'.
You hear his low timbre of voice tell you something, but you cant grasp his words. Your exhaustion kicked in right away, sleep taking you in a matter of seconds.
"Should it come up again and bother you or if you have any side effects, come to me at once.", Loki tells her but doesnt get an answer.
He feels her body growing limp. "Y/n?", he asks her in a whisper, only getting her even breath as confirmation.
She fell asleep. He smiles to himself, 'Poor thing is exhausted.'.
He gets up to leave, but as he's stood in front of her door, he glances over one last time. 'She would rather sleep in her bed, I guess.', he thinks as he sees her beginning to slump over to the side.
He walks over to her bed, drawing back the covers and then goes to collect her into his arms. Carefully as not to wake her, he walks over and sets her down. He makes sure her head lays comfortably and drapes her duvet over her.
He conjures a piece of paper and a pen, writing her a little message.
Dear Y/n,
you fell asleep, so I took the liberty of moving you to your bed, ensuring you sleep comfortable.
I did lock your door by magic, but you can unlock it as usual.
Just in case you ask yourself how that took place.
I hope you are well rested and pain free when you read these words.
Loki.
He places it on her nightstand and leaves her apartment, locking it as he told her in the letter. That night, he, too, had a peaceful sleep, feeling a sense of pride of being able to help this sweet neighbour of his.
When you woke up, you were confused at first, but quickly found the note Loki left you. You are so ashamed for falling asleep on him, not even thanking him for helping you. How embarrassing.
You defently owe him one.
#loki laufeyson#loki x y/n#loki x you#loki x sick reader#sick fic#hurt/comfort#migraine#sexualapocalysesociety
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Chapter 6 - The Eyes Ease Open, and it's Dark Again {TLTGYA - Post!TVA Loki x OFC Longfic}
Previous Chapter / TLTGYA Masterlist / A03 Link / Next Chapter
Pairing : Post-TVA!Loki x Oliviette (OFC)
Chapter Summary : Oliviette is being taken back to her cell, and she finds out a bit more about the dungeon guards while they bicker with each other. After they’ve gone, Loki and Oliviette do a little bickering of their own.
Chapter W/c : 3.7k words
Chapter Tags / Content : Mentions of blood/injuries, and as always - the angst of it all. And we're finally starting to dive into the mysterious dungeon guards and Oliviette's backstory! Happy reading!
18+ Only - Minors DNI
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Hues of white and yellow flashed on the inside of Oliviette’s eyelids, barely conscious as she was dragged slowly across the stone. Every muscle tensed in anticipation of further injury, every rough surface scratched the bare skin on her arms, every vessel and artery throbbed as blood rushed to her wounds. Her body hung limp as she was pulled along, and her mind reeled as it tried to cling to consciousness.
“This is a mistake. We should be taking her to the Apotheosis and be done with her - not back to her cell where she’ll just escape again!”
“You heard what Caden said. He wants to present this one to Anathema when she finally arrives…”
That name was like a shock to Oliviette’s senses, instantly waking her up, turning her stomach and sending chills down her spine. She swallowed back a groan as her heavy eyelids heavily struggled to remain open; but even the faltering lantern light of the dungeon too much, and her weary pupils struggled to properly dilate.
Oliviette closed her eyes again, and she focused her efforts on listening instead. The heels of her boots scraped along the stone. The voices above her were callous and inconsiderate, as cold as the draft creeping into the dungeon and pricking maliciously at her skin. The collar of her tunic scrunched under the hands of her captors as they dragged her along; mercifully, they hadn’t noticed her waking up, allowing Oliviette to hear them speaking freely for the very first time.
“Rüzdæts. Anathema’s not coming,” the female voice snapped, her tone heavy with disdain and mockery. “Caden’s been promising that for weeks now, and what do we have to show for it?”
The male voice chuckled, the sound almost a sneer as it left his lips. “Mind your tone, Maxine. You’re already on thin ice with Caden; best not let him hear you defaming our Queen…”
Oliviette’s blood ran cold; they clearly weren’t referring to the beautiful and benevolent Gloustanian Queen - she had died twenty-five years earlier, and had never been officially replaced. This group, whomever they were, had installed their own nefarious one to follow.
“Our Queen…” Maxine scoffed as the pair lazily turned the corner, sending Oliviette’s damaged shoulder colliding with the wall. Tears stung her eyes, and pain radiated across her nerves in a searing crawl. She bit her lower lip to keep from crying out, drawing blood and stifled gasps instead.
“We don’t even know if Anathema is real! No one’s ever seen her! She could just be a story - a chǐsh!”
Without warning, Oliviette was dropped to the ground just before the sounds of a scuffle rustled overhead. She imagined the male guard grabbing Maxine and pushing her violently against the wall and Maxine struggling to free herself; apparently the group that stole her was plagued by profound infighting.
“Our Queen, Anathema, has bestowed her blessing upon Caden - and by extension, all of us,” the male guard hissed. “I suggest you temper your hostility towards Caden, before you find yourself at the mercy of the Apotheosis.”
“Remove your grimy hands from me, Nulan, or I promise I’ll remove them for you!” Maxine growled, her words dripping with a violence she was desperate to inflict.
A tense silence descended upon the corridor, and Olivette lay unmoving and blind on the floor, waiting to hear if a fight would break out between the pair. The news of the group’s splintered aspirations was like music to her ears - if only Oliviette wasn’t weakened even more than ever now, she might have been able to do something useful with it.
But as it was, she didn’t even know if she had the energy to crawl away if the guards did begin to fight, let alone try to find her way out of the dungeon a second time.
“Unlock the cell,” Nulan finally ordered, releasing Maxine with another push into the wall. “And if you cannot temper it, then channel that hostility into searching her for any more weapons…instead of into this petty - ”
“Oh, do not say fitmǐ!” the woman hissed as the jangling of keys echoed against the stone. Oliviette simultaneously breathed a sigh of relief and tensed in fear - reluctant to return to the cell again, but grateful she wasn’t being taken someplace even worse.
“ - insecure, childish and useless jealousy…simply because you cannot compare to our Queen…” Nulan continued, almost gleefully.
“This is not fitmǐ! I am not - ” Maxine groaned as she unlocked the cell and then crouched down to search Oliviette, rolling her back and forth without a single morsel of tenderness or respect to her injuries, pulling on each layer and rifling through her pockets.
“Did you search her body after she was knocked unconscious?”
Oliviette struggled to remain quiet during every push and pull of her weakened form. She wondered if Loki was still in their cell - hiding in the dark, watching this scene unfold, letting it happen to her. How imprudent she was to think she could ever trust him.
“You know I couldn’t - ” she answered through gritted teeth, rolling Oliviette on to her back and tearing the belt from her waist.
Loki could probably see it better from his vantage point in the shadows, and if he wasn’t willing to stop it, then ideally he’d at least describe it to her later.
“And why is that?”
Oliviette didn’t know much about Loki, but she did know that he more than likely wouldn’t even be that considerate.
“Because she - ” Maxine yanked the leather boots from Oliviette’s feet, her cold fingers indelicately clawing at her socks and ankles.
Oliviette stifled a whimper, and moments later, two thuds echoed off in the distance, presumably from Maxine tossing her boots away - and most likely not into the cell. “ - because she knocked me out first!”
“Oh, that’s right,” Nulan chuckled cruelly while a hand grabbed the back of Oliviette’s collar again. “Because you let your guard down while you were…what were you doing anyway? Lurking outside Caden’s chambers again, perhaps?”
Maxine growled as she began to drag Oliviette behind her again, even less considerately than before, and all but tossed her into the middle of the cell. Oliviette landed on her side, choking back coughs and groans as she tried not to squirm on the floor. The familiar stench of musk and rusted metal invaded her senses, leading to new tears rolling down her cheeks.
“This is her last chance, Nulan. If she breaks out of here again…” Maxine hissed as she stormed out of the cell.
The barred door slammed shut behind her with a violent crash. “Then I’ll kill her before Anathema even sets foot in this dungeon…”
Nulan didn’t skip a beat, honing in on her perceived weakness like a wolf stalking its prey. “And what exactly are you going to do from on your knees in Caden’s chambers, hmm?”
“I can do two things at once, unlike the rest of you…” Maxine snapped as she rammed the bolt back into its lock, the sound ringing out like an omen of doom.
Oliviette’s eyelids slowly fluttered open, and she struggled to focus on the blurred forms of the guards as they turned to leave. The walls started to close in, and sheer panic lurched in her chest. She was trapped again.
“And you should probably make at least one of those things - ”
“Oh, would you just shut up?!”
“Wait - please…” Oliviette hadn’t meant to say it; it was just an uncontrollable machination of her own desperation. She almost didn’t even recognize the sound of her voice, so small and so frightened, and so unsure of what was to become of her.
The atmosphere of the dungeon instantly changed, shifting from ebullient chaos to refined malevolence. Oliviette’s heart stopped in her chest as the pair simultaneously stopped bickering and went absolutely silent - the kind of quiet that always gave way to something catastrophic.
There wasn’t much she could make out, and her mind splashed in her skull as she tried to push herself upright. But Maxine and Nulan appeared to be standing at attention, one wearing a mask of turquoise and the other wearing one of ruby, both of them turning their gaze upon Oliviette and eyeing her viscously from the other side of the steel bars.
“Please…just let me go. I promise I won’t make trouble…” Oliviette begged through shaky exhales. She knew it wouldn’t matter, but what other option did she have?
The guards merely tilted their heads in unison, as if to make a silent mockery of her plea. They moved in sync, matching in every single way except for the masks that concealed their faces, their feet facing forward arms hanging loosely by their sides. Oliviette had no idea which was which, and she began to question the severity of their earlier bickering; apparently petty squabbles no longer mattered when there was a prisoner to terrify.
A chill slithered down Oliviette’s spine, turning down and coating each and every possible nerve ending in damnation. And without speaking, the guards stepped backwards down the hall together, maintaining their sinister eye contact until they turned the corner and finally disappeared from view.
Oliviette let out a shuddering whimper after they were gone, and her head hung so low. It was exhausting, trying to exist like this, and Oliviette didn’t know if she should even continue trying. Every inch of her burned and ached, and her body felt so heavy with despair as she tried to crawl away from the center of the cell. She didn’t even have the energy to hold back the tears that fell as her back finally found the wall again.
The wall of this specific dungeon cell - the one Tereth kept bringing her back to.
Oliviette brought her knees closer, once again cradling her damaged arm between her thighs and her chest, curling into herself in an attempt to keep warm. Most of her protective clothing was now either missing or severely damaged - she couldn’t tell if her boots had landed in the cell or not after being tossed carelessly by Maxine.
Her wool socks, dampened by the dungeon floor, just made the cold air that much worse, but she didn’t have the strength to take them off. Her cloak had been left behind where they’d found her upstairs, and no doubt one of the other guards had already stolen it for themselves.
She never found her staff, and now she didn’t even have her dagger. All she’d accomplished in the past few hours was to make everything worse for herself. If this were a story she was reading, she’d truly be impressed by the severity of these failures.
“So you are alive.”
Loki’s voice was low and flat, but it startled her all the same. The anxiety that flooded her system soon gave way to anger; he’d been there that entire time after all - and he’d done nothing to help her.
"No thanks to you," Oliviette snapped without lifting her head. She knew there was nothing to see, that he preferred to deliver his sarcasm from the shadows.
He didn’t respond, and she found that even more infuriating. But the walls of stone and steel were doing an excellent job of numbing her emotions, standing tall and strong and unyielding against the will of someone far too weak to do anything about it.
None of this was fair or justified. She’d wanted to be on her own for the first time, yes, but not like this.
“Did you even notice the door?” Oliviette felt like a child asking that question, so small and so scared, but she desperately didn’t want to descend back into silence.
“What about it?”
Oliviette sighed and lifted her head, searching for Loki in the dark. “I left it unlocked for you. So you could leave, if you wanted to…but you didn’t even look at the door, did you?”
Loki didn’t answer her, because of course he didn’t; dread and hopelessness were the only things Oliviette had to keep her company anymore. It probably never even occurred to him that escape could be an option - and if the guards ever ordered him to get out, even then he still probably wouldn’t leave.
Olivette turned away from him and pulled the charm on her necklace between her fingers, tracing over the sapphire crystal wrapped in gold wire and becoming lost in her thoughts and regrets. Only Tereth knew why she kept getting pulled back into this dungeon cell, and perhaps she wouldn’t be allowed to escape until she figured out the reason.
But was she being punished for simply leaving the castle? Was she being punished for her father’s lack of faith? What exactly was she expected to learn from all of this?
Oliviette’s people had never considered the God of Knowing to be a malicious god. None of their gods were - a people of peace have no need for a deity who thrived on vengeance and anger. No, Tereth was born alongside the Aethalium, at the beginning of time and in a fantastical wave of ocean-blue light and illuminating power. Those two were among the first things to ever exist, and they would be the last ones to ever die.
Tereth provided guidance, not malfeasance. Tereth knew what you needed before you did, and the Aethalium had the wisdom to either bring it to you, or you to it. Together, they knew everything, while Oliviette knew nothing, and that was the point of the faith - the trusting in the not-knowing was what would give you everything.
But Oliviette was terrified that she was going to die here without ever knowing why she had been kidnapped, or why Tereth wouldn’t let her escape. She was going to die locked up in this dungeon, and no one back home was ever going to know what happened to her.
Not a single soul was going to know, other than Loki - but he seemed content to stay like this. How could that be? Had he forgotten what it was like to not be here?
“Hey…” Oliviette’s voice cracked painfully as she spoke. And she knew she wasn’t going to get any information out of him, but she had nothing better to do than try.
A lingering silence hung heavy in the cell before Loki finally gave a curt response. "What?"
"How long have you been here anyway?" Oliviette asked, looking in the direction of his voice from the dark. She couldn’t see him at all, and wondered if he was even bothering to look back at her.
"I'm not sure. Why?"
Oliviette sighed again, somehow surprised that he gave yet another non-answer. "Just wondering how much time I have to think about all my mistakes before the end…”
Loki said nothing again, his silence hurting more than the blows delivered by the guards earlier. Oliviette’s fingers drifted absentmindedly through her red hair, and she winced as they made contact with the concoction of ripped skin and sticky blood.
Oliviette pulled her fingers away to examine them, tilting her hand and trying to catch the crimson in the dim light of the dungeon. She wondered if she’d be able to even see it if she had a mirror, or if all of the blood was now permanently synonymous with the color of her hair.
“How far did you manage to get?”
His voice startled her again, and she hated it. But that was twice now he’d started a conversation first; Oliviette didn’t know why he was so interested all of a sudden, and she didn’t want to ruin it or push him away again, as silly as that was.
“Not far. I was looking for my staff…” she answered quietly, shivering as she thought about losing her cloak. “I figured I’d need it to fight, but they caught me before I could find it…”
What a stupid, foolish girl she was. And so much for all that "training" Deacon had given her while she was growing up; apparently it was all useless in a real fight. Another tear rolled down her cheek as she recalled having to beg for that training as a child, and how hard her father resisted. How angry he was upon discovering that Deacon was giving them to her in secret…
“I should have just ran instead…” Oliviette continued, whether Loki was still listening or not; talking was much more preferable to the silence. “And the dungeon is like a maze, it just keeps going and going…”
To her surprise, Loki actually responded to that. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never actually left this cell.”
Oliviette’s brow furrowed in confusion, and she looked in his direction again. “Then how did you get in here?”
She could hear shifting in the shadows, as if he was uncomfortable with the question even though he’d been the one to bring it up. A part of her inexplicably hoped that the shifting was actually him leaving the shadows to move closer to her, and not just because she felt ridiculous talking to a ghost.
But when he didn’t answer, or even emerge from the shadows, Oliviette’s anger began to boil over. “So you won’t say how you got in here, how long you’ve been here, why you’re hiding here. Is there anything you will tell me?” she scoffed.
“I’ll tell you that it’s none of your business.”
“Oh, I think it is, actually. Because if we worked together, we both could get out of here,” Oliviette snapped through angry tears. “But you’d rather be here - and therefore I’m stuck too.”
“I didn’t bring you down here,” Loki answered simply, as if that absolved him of anything.
Oliviette couldn’t believe what she was hearing, that she ever held hope in this man assisting in an escape. “Maybe not, but you’ve trapped me here all the same with your wallowing, and your - ”
“You’re a stranger, and I don’t owe you anything!” Loki interrupted, his own anger becoming more obvious even in the shadows.
“And what could you have possibly done to justify all this? What was it - did you murder a bunch of children? Burn down a village?” Oliviette’s veins swelled with blood as she became angrier, and her head started to throb even more. “Did you get greedy and rob a temple, and that’s why I have to die in a dungeon?”
Loki sighed - a deep, heavy sigh that originated in his bones and seized the air around her. Oliviette almost stopped, but he wasn’t giving her any valid justification as to why it had to be like this, and she was desperate to feel anything other than her own impending doom.
“No, it couldn’t have been so bad, or we would have heard of you before. So what was it? What did you do?”
“I don’t have to explain myself to you!”
“But you would if you were considerate!”
Oliviette stared unflinching in his direction, feeling a little bit insane for arguing with a shadow. A new fear lodged itself in her throat, that maybe she was just imagining him. Maybe he was just a hallucination - a reaper, meant to escort her to the afterworld. Maybe he was working with the guards, and that this was just the first step of torturous devices awaiting her.
Loki was quiet again, but it was different this time, like a thousand versions of the truth were spilling out of him all at once and he didn’t know which version to choose. But how could any one man be that complicated? And why did it have to be like this?
Oliviette swallowed hard and shook her head when he didn’t answer. Again, her mind sloshed in her skull, and it was pure agony even trying to exist anymore. All she wanted was to sleep, or to wake up and realize this was just a horrible nightmare. But she knew that was never going to happen.
She curled into herself again, huddled against the wall and too cold to care about anything else. Her eyes closed, and she didn’t even have the energy to hope that there was a greater purpose to this - because Loki wasn’t going to answer her, she was never going to get out of here, and this was going to be the method of her demise.
“This is me being considerate…” Loki’s voice wasn’t cruel or mocking, it was simply a matter of fact. Oliviette’s brow furrowed, and she cautiously opened her eyes to peer into the darkness.
“Me hiding away down here, rotting in despair - is me being considerate,” he continued, his self-loathing oozing out of every word - but she could tell that he believed everything he was saying.“You’re just…the latest of my many collateral damages.”
“Is that why you just sat there while the guards dragged me back here?” Oliviette asked quietly, unable to stop herself. She felt dizzy and nauseous and completely sick to her stomach. “Was that you being considerate, or was it because I’m just collateral damage to you?”
“Neither. I was listening to them. They were talking while you were unconscious…”
Oliviette’s eyes widened, amazed that he had actually put in the effort to pay attention. “Wait - you were listening to them?”
“The only other time I’ve heard them say anything was when you were dragged in here for the first time,” Loki answered, almost reluctantly, and her heart started pumping just a little bit faster. “But if I had revealed myself, they would have stopped talking, the way they did earlier when they realized you’d awoken…”
Her breath shuddered, and her limbs tingled with nervous energy. “Just the…mere fact that the guards are even talking now is significant to you?”
“That, and…” Loki cleared his throat before continuing. “The fact that they’re feeding you. So I’ll ask again…”
His tone shifted, from full on reluctance to conservative curiosity, like he couldn’t believe he was asking the question again but he also couldn’t ignore it any longer. Oliviette could feel his eyes boring into her for the first time, and she already knew what he was going to ask next.
“Who are you? And who is this Anathema?”
✦ ─── ⊹ ─── • ° • ─ ☽ ─ • ° • ─── ⊹ ─── ✦
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I had a dream last night that when dropping Loki off somewhere, Mobius noticed he was really upset and regressing and just was ready to curl up on the floor and cry so he pulled up a chair and said "Hey, look, I'll be here when you need me, okay? I'll stay right here with you until you're ready."
And idk like I think maybe that was a message to myself. I can stay here, write for this fandom and chill for however long I need. It'll be okay. These characters, these stories will be with me, even if the show has run its course and the rest of the world has moved on.
#agere fic inspo#sfw agere#fandom agere#loki agere#marvel agere#not to look too deep into this#I'm not like super into reality shifting#this was just a nice little subconsious message that made me feel both small#and inspired#I slept with my oldest plushie last night#maybe it was also a message from her#The message is what matters#even if its from my own brain#I can't remember if I was Loki in this situation or not#but I remember comfort in the words so that's what matters right?#🎠 chatter
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Try Again | Loki x OC
Chapter 1 - (Next Chapter) -(Chapter List) - (Main Masterlist)
Summary: Enjoying a holiday in Greece until a dreadful call changes it all...
Note: Ohhh I've posted it! okay, first of all, I am open to making a tag list to those interested, just tell me in the comments and I'll put you in. Two, this is the fastest fic i've finished and to me that's astonishing because as you may notice, most of my fics take me months to complete and in finishing this in a few nights is a feat to me. And third, understand that i am going back to class on Monday and thus i might not have as much time to update this as much but i promise i will be working on it and have patience with me. I am unreliable in consistency but I can promise results, even if the time is indefinite. The second chapter is in the works so bear with me and i hope you enjoy!
The sun rests low on the horizon, slowly dipping down amongst the waves. It turns the water a gorgeous shade of gold and the sky flies past in a flurry of bright and brilliant colours. Though as slow as the bright star sinks, it still let off a bit of heat. A welcoming warmth caressing the tanning skin of those still out, enjoying the last rays of the day before heading inside to avoid the chill night.
A child plays in the sand. Building castles of great architecture and collects shells and rocks of all forms and sizes, anything piquing his interests really. A bucket sat beside him and in it rests all his collected treasures. He uses some of the colourful shells and stones to decorate his castle, giving it colour amongst the muted tones of sand.
His mother sits not far from him, basking in the last of the heated rays before the inevitable task of packing up for the day. She watches her boy, clad only in his swim trunks, unruly obsidian curls bouncing at every movement as he fiddles and plays with his toys in sand.
A warm yet solemn smile painted her thin lips as she watched over her young one, seeing features oh so similar to her husbands. From his ivory skin and up to his emerald eyes, their son was but a copy of his father. The spitting image save for the too few features he had of her, like the scattered bloom of freckles that decorated the bridge of his small nose and cheeks.
He also seems to have gotten mannerisms eerily similar that of his father, despite the brief and few memories he had of him in their short time. The pick at his hands and furrow that would rest on his brows whenever he was confused or sad was just so like her husbands. It brought an overwhelming need to be protect him from the dangers of the world, but she knew that as he grew, she won’t be able to protect him from everything and the best she could do was to teach him how to protect himself. But as of now, she would do just about everything to keep him safe.
Just as the sun began to descend the horizon, the boy abruptly stood up and walked over to where his mother lay beneath an umbrella, clutching tight on the offering he wished to show his mother.
‘Mama!’ he called out as he reached near her.
‘Yes, my darling?’ she replies warmly.
‘Wook at what I found mama’ he urged for her to look once he reached the tail end of her towel, plopping down on her lap, causing her to grunt at the sudden weight while he thrusts his hands to her face, the offering in question presented. She moves to sit up, the young boy still in her lap as she adjusted her position and lifts her Ray-Ban’s to her head so to properly see whatever it was he so wanted her to well, see.
In his small hands, lay a green sea stone. Big enough to dwarf the small hands of a child like his own yet still small in the eyes of others. It rests softly in her son’s palms, smooth surfaced, and tinted seafoam, she understood why it would pick at her son’s interest.
‘That is beautiful love’ she praises, earning a prideful look from the little boy, his chest puffing out as his grin stretched much like a Cheshire cat. It earned a hearty chuckle from the mother, watching her son’s actions. Joyous and confident, much like how his father was before.
‘May I?’ she asked and once a nod was returned, she plucked the stone from his hands, holding it up to the sky. She hoped that what was left of the day was enough for the light to pass through the translucent glass and it did. The stone glowed bright like the waters before them.
A look of awe shaped the boy’s face, his mouth hung open as he stared at the rock, but the mother’s gaze only strayed for a bit before turning back to her son. The look on his face made every hardship worth it and yet again, it brought another wide grin to her face.
Pressing a quick kiss to his temples, she gave the rock back to him and still, he stared at it as if it contained magic. Taking the moment with his attention pre-occupied, she brushed away the sands stuck to his skin, from his face to his pale torso, she brushed away as much as she could, but the rest would have to be washed away when they get back to their room.
Speaking of which, she glanced at the sun, the sky a canvas of pinks, oranges and violets as the sun sunk down low enough and it now meant that it was time for them to pack up and head back inside.
Her gaze lingered in the horizon until a tiny voice called her back.
‘Mama’ the child called for her.
‘Yes dear?’
‘Do you think papa would wike this?’ he asked, turning her attention back to him. There had been few and brief times that his father was asked about and often this was the question asked. The other times he’d ask were always of his father’s character. Stories of the man were told and a picture of him was kept among the boy’s things as a remembrance, but it had been a long while since he’s asked of him again.
She stared at the orbs identical to her son’s fathers and she couldn’t help but think of him. His charming smile, his careful touch, his loving gaze, and intoxicating smell. She longed to be back in his once safe arms, but she couldn’t, and that truth is to be accepted.
‘Yes he would luv’ she answers. The truth was, knowing her husband, he’d love anything and everything their little boy gave him. From a card on Father’s Day and his birthdays down to a piece of cereal the boy had been eating, the man would have been grateful for anything his boy gave him.
‘Bwilliant’ he murmurs, and she just knows he will keep it safely stashed amongst the other things he thinks his father would like. It warmed her heart to have a son so kind and giving. It made her proud that he was growing up to be as so and she just hoped her husband would be as well.
‘Alright darling, we have to go pack up now. Go get your stuff and then we can go back to the room so you can have a bath and then dinner’ she explains to the young boy, tucking away the curtain of curls that hid his face behind his ears before cupping his cheek and giving his little button nose a kiss, causing him to giggle in her hold, his face scrunching up. ‘Alright?’
‘Okay mama’ he nodded to her command and set off to get his toys and treasures from the sand. Watching him pick up his stuff, she began to pack up as well. Tidying up the drinks and towel she had brough and place them in her bag before brushing off the bit of sand that stuck to her skin before putting on the blue summer dress atop her swimsuit for when they head back to their room.
The boy trudged back to her with a heavy bucket in hand and his kiddie camera slung around his neck. The bucket nearly overfilled with all the stones and shells he collected, along with the beach toys he used to make the castle.
Dropping it with a heavy grunt, the boy huffed and puffed at the exertion, causing his mother to stifle a laugh yet still a sound managed to escape, her hand immediately flying to muffle the sound but seeing it went unnoticed, she relaxed and dropped it.
‘A bit heavy love?’ she asks.
‘A wot heavy’ he says, emphasizing the word like a true drama king. Wonder who he got that from?
‘Alright. Now, do you want to wear a shirt before we go back?’ she asks, offering him the top he wore earlier.
‘No tank you’ he declines, shaking his head.
‘Alrighty then’ she puts his shirt back in the bag before slinging it on her left shoulder and picking up the castle shaped bucket (which did weigh a lot, no wonder her son panting) with her left hand. Her right: out in offering for the young boy to hold as they slowly walked back to their hotel.
‘Did you have fun today?’ the mother asked as the walked along the beach.
‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’ he shouted in enthusiasm, jumping up and down. The mother could only smile at the boy’s joyous behaviour, glad that she could give him fun memories to look back on.
The rest of their walk was filled with conversation about what the new thing’s he discovered about the sea life, the castle he so artistically constructed and the promise of coming back here another day and by the time they reached the lobby of the resort, the mother could see how the exhaustion of the day was taking a toll on her little boy.
‘Ahh, Miss Ackland’ Mr Birch, the evening manager greeted from behind the reception ‘good day I presume?’ he questions, noting how tuckered out her normally energetic son was started to sag against her. With a brief glance to the boy and a small chuckle, she nodded.
‘Yes, it was good day. Especially for this one’ she replies, rubbing a thumb over the hand in her grasp, hoping to at least rouse the child until he’s eaten dinner.
The man chuckles a bit, seeing how unresponsive the boy is to her attempts. ‘My, the young tyke seems real knackered.’ he comments with an accent much like her own yet the way the words flow so smoothly would have anyone wrapped in a trance,
‘Yah well, all day out in the beach seems to do that’ she responds politely.
‘Well, best not keep you from your young one and leave you to it. Have a nice evening miss.’ he bids her well off with a gentle smile that would leave any woman with a common-sense to a puddle, yet she has her immunity, and she power through with it.
‘Actually, would you mind sending some food to our room in 15, 20 minutes? We haven’t had the chance to get some dinner and I’m hoping to feed at least a little into him before he’s off for the night.’ She requests of the manager, really wishing to at least have her boy a few bites before going dead to the world.
‘Certainly miss.’ He dutily responds, already picking up a phone to call the kitchen ‘Just the usual ma’am?’ he asks of the meal, turning to her with the phone to his ear.
‘Yes, that would be lovely. Thank you Mr. Birch’ she says with a kind grin, faintly hearing his conversation as mother and son walked away.
‘Yes, to the Amphitrite suite in fifteen minutes… Thank you’.
---
Once the pair arrived back to their room, the sun had finally set, casting a now dark canvas, littered with twinkling stars, though it went unnoticed to the weary boy who had let go of his mothers’ hand as soon as they entered and dropped with a thud on the chalk white cushions once he was near enough while his mother, Ms. Ackland, relieved herself of the heavy weight she had been trudging since the beach.
‘Leo’ she called to the boy softly, opting to not chastise the young one when he was already weary. ‘Come on darling. Quick bath and some dinner then off to bed, sleepy head’
‘But I’m not sleepy’ he whined, an indicator of his true predicament, even as he refuses.
‘Well, a quick wash and some supper then’ she bargained even though she knew he’d out like a light by halfway through dinner and when she received no response, she added ‘and we’ll also wash up the shells and rocks you collected, and you can sort through them after.’ And with that, his head shot up, his curls bobbing as he ran (well more speed walk than run) with what energy he had left to her side, awaiting for her instructions and wanting to get his bucket of treasures so he could wash them.
With the young one finally clean and sand free, dressed in his favourite dark blue pyjamas, they set off to the sitting room portion of the suite, just in time for room service to arrive with their supper. Since Leo had his attention to his rocks and shells (fully washed and draining on a colander borrowed from the hotel), his mother was the one that had gone to get the food, still wearing her blue summer dress since there wasn’t enough time for her to get cleaned herself but she planned on doing so after her little boy had gone to bed.
She thanked the room service and closed the door of the suite before fixing up the plate of food and brought it to where little Leo was pre-occupied, seemingly sorting the rocks by colour and size on the towel laid out before him while he let the shells dry out in the colander a little bit longer. She sat beside him, setting the plate a good distance away from his work area and began to feed her little man.
The rest of that time had been quiet, save for the thud of rocks on the whitewashed coffee table and the occasional murmur to open his mouth so the mother could feed him bites of the pork Souvlaki. In between bites, she’d offer her opinion, helping out a bit on his activity but not once has he said anything. Only responding in nods and a shake of his head, another symptom of his fatigue and true to her word, with the plate half cleared, she noticed the lack of hands working through the rocks and a weight leaning on her. Turning her head, she found the boy sound asleep, a rock he had been looking at still in his grasp but the lack of movement and the slow and steady breaths he let out was enough for her to know.
Pushing the plate aside, she carded a hand through his curls, making him curl up more beside her and all that did was take her back to when it was her husband that did the same thing. Head on her lap, she would comb through his raven locks and all that would do was press a face farther onto her stomach, arms wrapping around her waist so he could pull her closer.
This was most endearing when she has pregnant. Her beloved would whisper to her belly in a hushed tone. Her hand, as always, in his head of hair and when her nails would start to scratch at his scalp, a content sigh always left him before he burrowed in the warm mass of her stomach.
Thinking back, those were near the last good moments she had of just the two of them. A loving husband, doting and caring to his beloved wife as the two prepared the arrival of their little one. So cheery and full of life, once was he and now all she could help but do is miss those moments, let alone the man he was back then.
After a small while, the mother took the boy in her arms and having done this so many times before, it was an instant that the boy instinctively wraps himself in his mothers’ hold, arms circling her neck, legs locking behind her as he laid his little head to her chest, right over where her heart beat a rhythm that often lulled him to sleep. She planted a kiss at the top of his head, right on his unruly curls at she took him to the bedroom.
Laying him down in the middle of the queen-sized bed, she laid with him for a bit to make sure he would no longer stir before carefully untangling herself from his hold. She propped some of the pillows beside him, just to make sure he wouldn’t move to far to edge and fall and covered him with his blankie before deciding it was enough and she left the room, shutting the door quietly.
Taking a survey of the suite, she figured on tidying up and finishing what was left of supper before taking a shower herself, wanting to be rid of the day’s clothes and into her own pyjamas while she indulged on some wine in the balcony.
Nearly giddy at the thought, she set off in doing so and half an hour later, she emerges from the ensuite in fresh clothes, warmed somewhat by a thin green cardigan she put over.
The mother then set off to the kitchenette where a good bottle of wine chilled in the mini fridge. Now without any distractions or hesitation, she took a wine glass the concierge so kindly provided, and poured herself a hearty amount, tasting the aged, fermented juice and relishing at the thought of getting lost from her head for a few hours after a glass or two.
With the glass near empty, it was then that she remembered that she hasn’t even touched her phone nearly the whole day and seeing it sat on the counter, with a quick reach, she had it in her hand. She wasn’t surprised of the lack of notifications, so she set it down and finished the last of her glass’s contents. What did surprise her though was the call that connected a minute later, the familiar name on the ID catching her unexpectedly.
She answered the call before it dropped, wanting to hear from the man after a while of no contact.
‘Thor’ she starts, putting the phone to her ear as she poured herself another glass. ‘Long time’
‘Yeah, um. It has, hasn’t it?’ his deep voice grumbles through the phone’s speaker.
‘Five months to be exact’ she clarifies, bringing the glass to her lips and takes a sip.
‘Sorry, it’s just…’ he started to explain himself, but she cuts him off.
‘No. Don’t, don’t do that. Don’t say that. I could have called but I didn’t, and I am as much to blame’ she clarifies, regretting making the comment when she didn’t want to take apologies when she was just as much at fault as he was.
‘Right, alright. Um, where’s little Leo?’ he asks, diverting the conversation to the boy so to get out of that uncomfortable subject.
‘Ohh, he’s already in bed. Sorry. Had a long day’.
‘Wow, that early. It’s just a little before nine. Usually, he’d still be very active. Well from what I can remember that is.’ The blond man chuckles, remembering the nights he’d spend with the very energetic child.
‘Actually, it’s about ten before 11 here.’
‘Her- Wudduya mean here? Aren’t you in town?’ the man asks, clearly very confused and he sounds it and that is her fault.
‘Ohh, were in Santorini on holiday. Sorry, I haven’t informed anyone really and I would have you but-’ you haven’t called, and I couldn’t make the call myself the last bit went unsaid but the both of them knew.
‘Oh, okay. Alright.’ He pauses for a while, leaving a pregnant silence to fill until he did. ‘Well, is it good there?’
‘Very’ she responds immediately, uncomfortable by that gap. ‘it’s beautiful. The water, the architecture, the culture, the people, it’s absolutely wonderful.’ She describes, looking to the balcony where there was a perfect view of the sea. ‘Leo’s enjoying himself too. Playing in the beach all day, making sandcastles and he collects shells and rocks that take his interest and earlier he went about to sorting them, but the little man fell asleep halfway into dinner. Too worn out from the day to even finish his sorting.’ She giggles a bit, remembering how the little boy looked all curled up beside her.
‘Seems like you’re having a good time.’ The man responds, a bit despondent but she didn’t hear that.
‘We are.’ She says with a bit of pride ‘we are’ she repeats though this time she’s uncertain and dejected because a part of her is guilty. For actually having a good time and without the man she loves. And another part.. just wants him. To be here with them. To enjoy this with them but, we can’t have all we want now can we.
She faintly heard someone talking, someone angry and that was followed by the sound of the phone shuffling before she heard Thor again.
‘Sorry Em, could you hold for a minute?’ he requests, and she answers back yes but before she could ask anymore, he mutes.
She put the phone on speaker and set it down, taking a gulp of her wine and as promised, after a minute, he came and called her back.
‘I’m back. You still there?’
‘Yah’ she manages before swallowing her drink ‘still here. Everything alright?’ she asks, wondering who it was that was so angry (though she should have known).
‘Yeah. Everything’s just fine’ he replies, sounding out breath.
‘You sure?’
‘Yeah, absolutely. Terrific’ he says with far too much cheer, it annoyed her enough to know it was fake.
‘Thor.’ She says firmly, setting her glass down the marble counter ‘What’s going on?’ she demands sternly, using the voice she rarely would use to chastise Leo with when on bad behaviour, not wanting some half-arsed answer.
Again, a long of silence stretched on until with a heavy sigh, he began.
‘He’s in hospital again.’ He confesses and she shakes her head, knowing well who he meant. Irritated was she, evidently enough to pick up her glass and divide its contents into half.
‘He’s always in hospital’ she replies after swallowing, swirling the liquid around the glass and she watches in fascination, wanting to get her head from what he just said.
‘No. This is different.’ He presses, knowing the times he’s said this before were for minor and abrasive accounts.
‘What do you mean?’ she pesters, her voice now wobbly as a burst of possibilities swirled in her head.
‘He um- ‘he stops himself, swallowing the hard pill because knowing her, telling her this would only tear her apart. ‘He rang me earlier.’ That enough was a giveaway that something was wrong, the severity was the only missing piece. ‘He was in pain, and he could barely let out anything before he dropped the phone and groaned in agony.’ Her breathing hitched then, tears welling her eyes while her hand flew to her mouth. ‘I got to him as soon as I could, and when I found him, he was on the floor, in pain’ He hated repeating that but all he could do was relay the accounts of what happened as it was still all so fresh and hope he could filter it as much as possible. ‘I called for an ambulance and tried to get him to tell me what was happening, but he couldn’t even respond’ he chokes, remembering the sight and it flashes before his eyes, as if he was reliving the whole painful ordeal again.
Emma on the other hand, had tears quietly running her cheeks, hand still tightly clasped to her mouth for fear she would let out a sob that would not only alert Thor but Leo as well. Her mind ran rampant, creating images and images of her pained husband, lying helplessly in pain on the floor, asking for help to no one because of his solitude. Not knowing if he there was anyone coming at all.
Guilt held a tighter grip on her breaking heart as her mind convinced herself that it was her fault that he was alone. She should have been there. She shouldn’t have left. She should have taken care of him and maybe he wouldn’t be where he was if it she had just stayed and cared for him. But she didn’t and she wasn’t there when he was helplessly lying on the ground, wondering if the last thing he’d see was the dirt and bottles that undoubtedly littered the floors around him instead of his beloved wife and darling son.
She swallowed back the sob itching to escape her lips, desperate on not making a sound.
Her mind was taking a turn in the labyrinth it already was, taking her to unknown ends of painful scenarios her unyielding mind procures when she still doesn’t have the pieces to the whole story.
A creep of silence then went on for the benefit of both. Time for them to compose themselves before the once boisterous man continued.
‘The ambulance-’ he begins once more, though demurely ‘-arrived quickly. And they took him to the hospital immediately, seeing the state he was. Even the doctors didn’t know what was happening to him, but they gave him morphine for the pain.’ He somewhat assures and it relieves her a bit knowing he wasn’t in pain anymore. ‘They let him rest for a bit before they took him for tests. He’s resting now though. They’re keeping him for the night under observation but there was talk that the stay might be indefinite until they figured out what was wrong. Just in case another attack happened but you know him’ he teases lightly, not wanting to drown in the dampening mood this whole conversation, hell this whole ordeal has taken and neither did she so, she appreciates the lightening.
And she also knew what he meant. Her husband hated hospitals. Even stepping one foot inside churned his insides enough and being a patient? We’ll she knew enough to give her an idea of what happened.
It didn’t help her to think of his reaction to being told that he had to stay the night. Scared as he might have already been, the prospect of staying even longer undoubtedly terrified him and thus she concluded that he refused the longer stay.
Thinking of it, the only time he was at some sort of ease while in the hospital was when they took baby Leo for his newborn check up and even then he was anxious. The check-up had been a necessary. Just to assure the new parents that their little one was alright and properly checked on since a homebirth lacked that formality. The man himself had been the one to insist on the homebirth and Emma didn’t object to that, wanting to give the man a sort of peace as they brought their child to the world. His fears only eased once the doctor told them that everything is just as it should be about their newborn and there and only then did he relax as he rejoice on the fact that they had a health baby boy.
That clued her enough of his fear of hospitals and that information didn’t help her at all now.
‘The doctors are coming back in the morning for the results but after that, he insists on leaving’ he continuous to inform her, wary of her lack of response.
She hasn’t said anything since the start of his recount. Not a sound could be heard from her end of the line, and it unnerve him, making him check to see if the call was still on and it was. It took him a few good minutes, but he deduced why she was so silent.
He knew his sister well and the things he’s regaled to her… he just knew it was breaking her being apart.
‘Emma’ he called out, wanting to be sure he was still taking to someone. ‘you still there?’
‘yah’ she muttered, barely audible but he heard.
She had sunken to the floor, leaning against the counters as she pulled her knees to her chest, arms wrapped around them as she silently cried. Her phone still sat atop the island, her call with her brother-in-law still ongoing yet there she was, listening, tears running her cheeks as she listened to him describe the torment her beloved endured.
‘He needs you’ the man murmurs, pleading for his brother’s sake that she come back. He knew his little brother wouldn’t take it if these pains continued on and he feared the day he would give up. And without the person he loves most, the person that had been his solace long before, his rock and home, he is terrified of that end coming too soon.
The woman could only swallow at the man’s words before clamping a hand on her mouth and burying her head to her knees as an unrelenting sob escapes her. She had no control of it and the others that followed but she did have control of how loud they would come to so she did her best to make as little sound as she possibly could.
Try as she did though, Thor heard her. Muffled as it was, he knew that sound better than he liked to admit and not once did his heart break not break for her every time.
‘just… please come back’ he begs her once more, intending to end the call and leave her to some privacy. He stays on for a bit longer and just as he was about to press the end button, she called out to him, saying his name in an unsteady voice, congested and clear that she had been crying.
Two days she wanted to say. Give her two days and she would do everything she could to be there as soon as possible but what left her mouth wasn’t so. ‘Take care of him for me’ she pleads her own, on the brink of another fit of sobs but she held on till the call ended.
‘Always’ he responds before ending the call and with that her resolve crumbles.
Once again, her hand flies to cover her mouth, going in to cover and muffle the onslaught of sobs she had no hope of controlling but… they never came. Whether it was for some preservation for Leo’s deep sleep or her sudden inability to, they never come. What took its place though was a rush of tears and a heavy heart.
Leaning back on the limewashed cupboards, she let her tears run and her heart sink for she thought she deserved it. The guilt eating at her from the inside. Churning her stomach to knots and crushing her heart to shreds. It manipulated her. Turning her to the villain at the heart of this mess when she had done nothing but protect herself and her son from the tragedy that was once a happy family.
Her mind was a cruel and fickle thing. Making her believe the lies it comes up with and without the one person who knew how to lead her out of the labyrinth, she was lost. Facing every new dreaded possibility at every dead end without escape or clue on how to get out because the person that always led her to the exit, became the reason she was lost and missed it.
She didn’t blame him though. Despite what the others do, not once did she blame the poor tortured soul of her husbands’ because how could she. She could have helped him and stayed by him, just as she vowed but breaking that promise lost her the right to blame, not that she would.
In sickness and in health… clearly she didn’t hold her promise on that.
She drew her knees back to her chest, letting her heart wrench while a hand rose to reach for the bottle of wine that still sat on the bench. Once she got that down, Emma took a big swig right out of the bottle, never minding the glass she used before. Her only goal. To suffer and hope she’d be numb enough to stop the tears from flowing.
And that’s how she spent the rest of the night. Sat on the kitchenette floor of her suite, back against the cupboards as she let her tears dry out while burning a bottles’ worth of wine through her liver, letting her guilt and sorrow drape over her as it would a child under a tablecloth on Halloween.
(Next Chapter) -(Chapter List) - (Main Masterlist)
#Try Again#loki#Loki x OC#loki angst#marvel#loki odinson#loki marvel#loki fic#loki god of mischief#dad loki#loki fanfction#loki fanfic#loki fanfiction#loki fics#loki hurt/comfort#loki imagine#loki laufeyson angst#loki laufeyson fanfic#loki needs a hug#loki of asgard#loki sad#loki x oc#loki x ofc#loki x original female character#marvel loki#parent loki#sad loki#sick loki#mcu loki#Loki au
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Wow, WOW. It has been... a *hot minute* (cough-sixmonths-cough) since I've shared any real teasers/snippets of my big writing project, WHICH NOW HAS A NAME - that's right, it's no longer going by the working title of "the Trickster!" The fic is officially titled "When Everything's Made to be Broken." Linked the synopsis page, which should link out to the snippets that I've previously posted, in case anyone is like "what was this fic again?"
So here we go! I'm getting to a point where even though the story as a whole isn't finished, I might start posting the first few chapters just so I'm no longer sitting on them... The first seven chapters are pretty much done (minus a final read through), and the end is there, it's just the middle of the story that's vexing me.
Anyways, this takes place after the other snippets I've posted. Enjoy!
Tag List: @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @thedistractedagglomeration @lokisgoodgirl @simplyholl @mochie85 @coldnique @lokixryss @gigglingtiggerv2 @infinitystoner @loopsisloops @mischief2sarawr @crzyplantladyvibes @buttercupcookies-blog @vickie5446 @the-lady-amphitrite
Send me an ask if you want to be added to the tag list!
Warnings: None. This is on the soft side, all things considered?
Song: Cosmic Love - Florence + The Machine
Word Count: 1,281 words
You Were in the Darkness Too
Before long, they were outside of Marquette, driving down backroads that made Loki question whether or not his phone’s GPS was accurate. However, when they turned down a long gravel driveway that led to a clearing with a small farm, he received confirmation that he was, in fact, in the correct location when Theo pointed at where to park.
“Welcome to the farm,” Theo gestured to the property around them, her voice and expression lacking any enthusiasm. Approaching a wooden porch, she gestured towards a shed. “In that shed is the portal I usually use to go home; you’re welcome to use it - get home and actually sleep in your own bed.” Rather than move towards the shed, Theo fished a set of keys out of her pocket and started fiddling with the door.
“Are you not planning to return home for the evening?” Loki furrowed his brow, glancing between the shed and the door that Theo had, by that point, unlocked and swung open.
“I– no.” Theo grabbed her bag from where she had set it on the porch, slinging it over her shoulder. “This is the house I grew up in; I know it’s just as close as New York with the portal and all, but I think I’d feel better if I stayed here, at least for tonight.”
Her rationale was, though not necessarily logical, understandable. The idea of a familiar setting providing comfort made sense. And though he would have loved to reunite with his own bed, the idea of Theo alone still seemed… wrong.
Why that was, Loki was uncertain.
“Perhaps I might stay with you, then?” Loki blurted out the question. “I don’t mean to impose, however if anything were to happen I think it would be in your best interest to not be alone.”
Theo stilled, mouth hanging slightly open as she processed Loki’s request.
“Loki, you’ve already done so much for me.” She shook her head. “I can’t ask you to cancel all of your plans and postpone going home after such a crazy, exhausting week.”
“You are not asking,” Loki countered, “I am offering.”
She pursed her lips and peered at Loki. The breeze rustled the trees around them, and in the distance the ebb and flow of waves off the lake provided a wash of ambient sound.
“Um, yeah - come on in.” Theo pushed the door open, reaching in to flick on a light before gesturing for Loki to follow. “But if it’s too much at any point, or you need to go do something, promise me you will go.”
“I swear it.” Loki retrieved his own bag and followed her inside.
The farmhouse was a sharp contrast to the tower - unlike the modern, minimalist architecture of the tower, he found himself charmed by the quaint, mismatched nature of Mémère’s home. In many ways, the home reminded him of the houses he’d see in Maximoff’s old sitcoms: the furniture seemed to be from decades past, though they weren’t quite as coordinated as on television.
Photos adorned the walls of the hallway - some old enough to lack color, while others looked as though they were taken yesterday.
“You can take my bed, I’ll just take the couch.” Theo said, leading Loki into what appeared to be a sitting room.
“You need not sacrifice your bed for me—“
“You just changed all your plans so you could fly with me to a place you’d never been and probably never wanted to visit, all because I was upset about someone you’ve never even met having health problems. Not to mention you just dropped a shit ton of money to change both of our flights, and on a rental car…” She shook her head, turning on more lights as she escorted him through the house. There was a certain sense of relief that came with the realization that some of the fire which Loki associated with Theo had returned. “You deserve a real bed to sleep in, if nothing else.”
“You’ve also worked tirelessly over the previous week, and you carry a great emotional weight,“ Loki countered, “Perhaps we can share?”
Trudging up a flight of stairs, Theo waited until they were both upstairs before replying. “It’s only a queen-size bed, not the California Kings that we have in the tower, so it might be a bit cozy… but if you’re okay with it then sure.”
“We’ve spent time in far closer proximity,” Loki pointed out, to which Theo cracked a smile and rolled her eyes.
“Yeah, but uh… I’m not really feeling up to that tonight.”
“It was not something I even considered, given everything that has taken place.”
“I didn’t think you were, but I figured I would clarify.” She pushed open a door, flicking on the light. “Welcome to my bedroom.”
In the late night, Loki was presented his first chance to take in the room that Theo called her own. Soft, pale yellow walls and sheer white curtains felt familiar - it was a lighter, softer version of the quarters Theo kept at the tower. The furniture here was not remotely cohesive - a heavy wooden dresser sat in the corner, assorted knick-knacks atop it. Above the dresser, a Van Gogh poster was tacked to the wall - a still-life of a turquoise vase with sunflowers.
In the corner, an acoustic guitar sat. Next to the guitar, Theo’s closet door sat open - inside, a colorful mix of plaid filled the cramped space. The bed was as large as one could rationally fit in the tight space; atop it, a patchwork quilt provided an injection of color and warmth to the room.
Perhaps this room was a time capsule of her youth, or maybe it became a melding of her past and present - he couldn’t be entirely sure.
Neither of them wasted any time getting ready for bed - then again, after capping off a long week with a particularly exhausting day, it was a small miracle that they hadn’t skipped pajamas and fallen asleep in their dayclothes. Loki was the first to lay down; Theo quickly followed, shutting the lights off before slipping beneath the bedclothes and settling in.
Loki stretched out as best he could on the mattress, though Theo was right when she said it was much smaller than Loki’s bed in New York - unless he slept with his head touching the headboard or curled up on his side, his feet would hang off the end of the mattress.
Theo rolled onto her side, facing Loki. Moonlight from the window reflected off her silver hair, casting an ethereal glow in the dark of night. When Loki turned to face her, he caught her watching him.
“You ought to rest, darling.” He murmured, arching an eyebrow at her.
“I know,” she whispered, “I’m just thinking…”
“About?”
“Today.”
Loki hummed. “Would you like to talk about it?”
Theo faltered for a moment, then shook her head.
“Is there something I might do to help you rest?” Loki leaned forward until his forehead rested against Theo’s.
“Just having you here helps.” Theo shrugged, “but, um…”
“What is it?” Loki frowned, trying to catch Theo’s gaze.
“Could you, um…” Theo shimmied a bit closer, stopping just before they touched.
Relief flooded through Loki at the request. He lifted an arm and nodded, a shy smile curling up on his face. Theo rolled over and slid back until her back pressed against Loki’s chest; he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.
“I’m here, dove.” He whispered, burying his nose into her hair. The faint whiff of shampoo, with notes of rosemary and lavender, tickled his nose. “Whenever you need, however you need.”
He meant every word.
#loki fanfic#loki fluff#loki#loki fanfiction#loki fic#loki hurt/comfort#soft loki#loki x oc#loki comfort#when everything's made to be broken#WEMTBB#e writes stuff
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Can't stop thinking about lokius I haven't stopped for months I'm going insane
#give me lokius fic prompts actually#if you have some#uhhh i like hurt comfort#and tbh anything sweet#or angsty#i just need ideas help#lokius#loki#loki x mobius#mobius m mobius#loki season 2#mobius#loki series#mobius mcu#tom hiddleston#owen wilson#ao3#ao3 fanfic
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