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use-your-telescope · 2 months

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When Everything's Made to be Broken - Chapter 18: You Were in the Darkness, Too

Summary: The aftermath of the attack on the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Author’s Note: So… I meant to post a chapter two days ago, then Sunday morning I woke up and was like “nope I need to re-do some of this because I think it’ll be better if a certain event happens ‘on screen,’ so to speak.” Long story short, two days later, here we are! I feel like Oprah - “you get world building, you get back story reveal, you get plot progression, you get super self-indulgent hurt-comfort (maybe a bit more hurt in this chapter, but have no fear there is LOADS more comfort where this came from)!”

Another random note - back when I started posting snippets on the beloved hellsite, this song initially was set with an entirely different chapter. Then I concluded it worked much better here. So if you have been around for long enough that you’re like “hold up a minute!” when you see the song and what happens here, that’s why. Tbh, I think most of the songs that were paired up with chapters have changed since I initially posted snippets. That’s the beauty of drafts, I guess? Anyways, thanks for your patience, and hope you enjoy <3 reblogs are always appreciated, and lmk if you want to be added to the tag list!

Contents: Descriptions of vomiting, in relation to describing a migraine. Nightmares. Tears. Loki being the actual MVP.

Word Count: 5,913

Read on AO3 | When Everything's Made to be Broken Masterlist

Song: Cosmic Love - Florence + The Machine

A falling star fell from your heart And landed in my eyes I screamed aloud as it tore through them And now it’s left me blind

Some types of pain could be relieved with medicine.

Others… not so much.

From the moment Theo found Chris outside of the Met, standing amidst the crowd of attendees in a makeshift triage area that had been set up by blocking off 5th Avenue, she could sense a difference in the way he looked at her. He didn’t rush towards her; instead, he approached slowly, scanning over her appearance with wide eyes and the color actively draining from his face. When they met in the middle, Chris reached out as if he wanted to embrace Theo, but he froze with hands hovering inches away from her body, as if he was afraid to touch her.

Even as Theo promised she was fine and that Chris shouldn’t worry – even as she checked him over, asking if he was okay, the short, half-hearted answers and the cold, wary look in his eyes didn’t diminish; instead of embracing her, he lowered his arms and stepped back, putting even more distance between them.

He looked at her the same way the council looked at her: as an abomination, a curse.

The exchange, however, was cut short - one of the medics employed by Stark to work with the Avengers spotted Theo and rushed over to request her help treating some of the most critical patients, who otherwise would not survive transport to the nearest hospital.

So, Theo pushed the raw ache that settled in her chest to the back of her mind, ignored the churning of her stomach and the pounding in her skull, and set about treating the worst of the injuries, even if it meant she would blow past her limits and pay the price later on. There was a physical cost to using magic, and with healing that cost was much higher - particularly when the scope of healing required was practically bringing someone back from the dead.

However, between someone dying or inducing a migraine from overexertion of magic, Theo would choose the migraine every time. At least when she healed, some good could come from her magic. Did it make her suffer? Yes, but she probably deserved it after everything.

And boy, she was suffering.

By the time she left, the only people who remained beyond the emergency response crews were paparazzi, lurking around the perimeter like predators stalking prey as they attempted to capture glimpses of the aftermath. They pounced at the sight of Theo, bloodied and drained after what was meant to be a celebratory occasion turned to a nightmare. Each burst of flash felt like an icepick to her skull and left her wishing she had enough energy to teleport herself home. Theo lifted one hand in a futile attempt to block some of the light, only for the shouting of the photographers to ricochet through her eardrums and into her skull.

How Theo survived the ride back to the tower without throwing up from motion sickness, she wasn’t sure. By some miracle she made it back to her suite, only to make it a few steps inside the door before the nausea and sensitivity to light and sound made her beeline for the bathroom, scolding herself for her earlier recklessness as she dove for the toilet and prepared to empty the contents of her stomach.

Over the sound of her retching, Theo didn’t hear her phone ring. Because her head was buried in the porcelain bowl of the toilet, she didn’t see the screen light up with Chris’s name.

As the nausea faded, Theo remained firmly in place, bent over the toilet bowl with both arms stretched across the top of the toilet seat. Once she knew she wasn’t going to be sick, Theo carefully eased herself down to lay on the floor, having spent the last of her energy throwing up.

Laying in her bed would have been more pleasant, but the thought of moving sent waves of churning heat through Theo’s stomach and made her entire body ache. Besides, the cool tile felt great against her uncomfortably warm skin and it was tolerable enough for her to pass out without even realizing she’d done so.

It was the vibration of Theo’s phone rattling on the floor that dragged her back to the world of the living, only to find she somehow felt even worse than when she passed out earlier. In her half-asleep stupor, Theo clumsily grabbed the phone from where she had tossed it as an afterthought. A wince snuck out as the light of the screen stabbed through Theo’s head; she squinted, trying to make sense of the contents on the screen.

The culprit was a text from Wanda, stating “you okay??” and then including what looked like a link. But Theo didn’t open the text right away - a different notification on her lock screen caught her eye. A voicemail from Chris, from right around the time Theo got back to the tower, elicited a sense of foreboding dread from Theo that she couldn’t ignore.

With shaking fingers, Theo unlocked her phone and went to her voicemail. She selected the message, relying on the speech to text feature to read the contents of the message instead of listening.

“Hey, it’s Chris. I’d been hoping you would answer, but I guess it is what it is. Look, I’ve been thinking - I don’t think we should see each other anymore. I know it’s cliché, but I mean it when I say it’s not you - it’s me.”

Even if Theo knew it was coming, reading the words still made her sick to her stomach.

“I know that you’ll always have to put your work as an Avenger first - I’ve always known that. I wouldn’t ask you to try and choose between being an Avenger and our relationship. But tonight, I saw you fighting, and I realized what it really means to date an Avenger, and– it’s too much. I can’t do it. If there’s stuff you left at my apartment, I’ll send it back to you. I’m sorry, Theo. Take care.”

Theo barely finished reading the transcription before bile clawed up from her stomach. She gagged, scrambling to her knees and barely managing to get into position before she threw up, this time expelling nothing but stomach acid in the process.

Between the cramping of her abdominal muscles, the burning in her throat, the pounding in her skull, the uncomfortable heat of her skin, and the aches radiating from her bones, Theo was miserable enough. The voicemail, however - that was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

A gasp escaped from Theo before she could stop it, then a whimper. Her eyes were leaking - no, water poured from them. She tried to cover her face with her hands as a whine escaped her throat, but she couldn’t stop the sobs that shook her entire body. Moving was painful - crying was painful - but the ache inside of her was far worse than any physical discomfort.

She should have known it would end like this. This was always what happened when people got to know her - they realized she was no good, and then they abandoned her. Thinking this time would be any different was stupid. Even if she told herself that whatever she had with Chris was nothing serious, it didn’t make the fact that he saw her for the curse she was, and he left.

They always leave.

And the worst part? Theo wasn’t angry at Chris for leaving. As much as she hated when the council looked at her like the curse she was, she could understand why. Her family deserved better. The Aneterrans deserved better. They all deserved better than her.

Chris didn’t know the extent of the bullet he dodged, but he knew enough to make the smart decision and leave before he got hurt.

By the time the tears stopped, Theo felt like a mess through and through. She didn’t even want to think about what she looked like - eyes swollen, hair tangled, makeup smudged, her skin still sticky with dried blood, and her armor torn from fighting.

She needed a shower, and then a real bed.

As tempting as it was to lay back down on the floor and continue to wallow, the desire to feel less disgusting won out.

Theo sat on the floor as she peeled the layers of armor off her body, only standing when she absolutely had to in order to remove her pants. The addition of vertigo meant that she spent most of the short time beneath the spray of cool water leaning against a wall, eventually sliding down to sit on the shower floor when her legs grew too tired to support her weight.

The process of drying and dressing in pajamas required multiple pauses - one to be sick again, the others a result of aching limbs and muscles trembling from prolonged exertion. It took a herculean effort, but Theo finally made it to her bed, falling asleep before she even had a chance to pull the covers over herself.

The stars, the moon, They have all been blown out You left me in the dark No dawn, no day, I’m always in this twilight In the shadow of your heart

Once a bustling metropolis, Meridia had been known for its opulence and innovation. The streets were packed with vendors peddling their latest inventions and entertainers attempting to woo the staff of the royal court in hopes of securing an audience with the king and queen.

That Meridia was no more.

Theo stood in the center of a barren flagstone street, blanketed in the dark of a new moon. Broken glass clung to the window frames of weathered stone buildings long-abandoned, just one trace of the city’s descent into madness. Adjusting her mask, Theo pressed forward, relying on muscle memory to carry her into the underbelly of the city she once called home.

Theo used to sneak onto those very streets with her cousins, placing bets on which performers would successfully charm whoever was tasked with the day’s errands. Sneaking amongst the city was how Theo first learned her governess had a crush with the Apothecary’s son, always traveling to him whenever she needed some sort of potion or supplies for Theo’s lessons. Theo also once caught Ravenna performing to a crowd while in disguise, though Theo immediately recognized her sister and used the knowledge as blackmail. If she listened close enough, she could hear faint traces of musicians’ voices in the wind.

A chill wracked her body.

Throughout the streets, navy fog shimmered, emitting an iridescent glow as it weaved in and out of the alleys around her. When she left, this neighborhood had yet to be tainted by the arcane fog that had come to be known as the haze. An orange glow and billowing smoke in the distance highlighted the silhouette of a broken skyline.

Even after all these years, the ruins had yet to stop burning.

The city was but a shadow of what it once was.

This was no longer the Meridia that Theo remembered, much less the Aneterra that Theo hoped to one day return to.

Instinct led her down alleys and side streets, through what once were lush court gardens bursting with exotic blooms as she reached the rear of her destination. Dead vines of Ivy still clung to once-pristine stone walls; cracks in the weathered glass window panes only hinted at what Theo might find inside. Careful to avoid drawing attention to herself, Theo lurked in the shadows as she made her way round to the front of a building she once knew in and out, the place that she reminisced about on cold nights when the winds of winter rattled her windows as a girl in Michigan.

Somehow, the front door - crafted of thick lumber and held together with intricate metalwork that reflected the status of the home’s former residents - hadn’t been destroyed in the massacre.

Theo started to push the door open, but stopped short. She hadn’t been there since the night of the massacre, when she thought she lost everything. Even if Fury was right - even if Theo’s parents and sister were alive - they weren’t the only people Theo lost that night. The possibility that Theo might discover their remains just beyond the door was one she had to be ready to face.

Theo drew in a deep breath, steeled herself, and pushed the door open.

The creaking of worn hinges echoed through what once had been a grand foyer. A thick layer of dust coated the overturned furniture and picture frames along the walls, askew from the chaos of the massacre.

Theo’s boots clicked along the marble floor, each cautious step percolating through the air. The further she ventured into the room, the stronger the sense became that she was not alone.

Before her, a grand staircase curved up to the second floor, drawing the eye towards the massive windows which previously made the foyer feel particularly grand. In the dark, however, Theo couldn’t even tell if the glass remained in place, or if fighting had destroyed those windows too.

Without consciously thinking about it, Theo crept towards the stairs and began to climb. Halfway up the stairs, Theo swore she saw a silhouette amongst the shadows cast by the window frame. Curiosity spurred her forward, past the top of the stairs.

Someone stood just in front of the window, looking out onto the ruins with their back towards Theo. They wore a black cloak, its cape brushing against the stone floor as it obscured the individual’s identity.

As Theo drew near, they made no effort to look back and see who was there; as far as Theo could tell, they didn’t even seem to recognize she was there. With only a few feet between them, Theo opened her mouth and took a deep breath, ready to speak–

“...So…” The figure turned around, hands adorned with runes reaching out from beneath the cloak to lower the hood and reveal themselves to Theo. “... You are alive.”

Theo knew that voice like she knew her own name.

Ravenna stood before Theo, piercing lavender eyes filled with ice as she regarded her younger sister. Inky black hair tumbled over her shoulder, stopping just below her chest. Despite the lack of light, her skin cast a soft glow.

“Rae—“ Theo took a jarring step forward, only for her sister to step back.

“After all this time, you wander back here.” A bitter laugh escaped the elder sister. “What, are you here to save the day? We needed that years ago.”

“No, Rae–” Theo tried, “I had no idea—“

“No idea – what, we would still be here? Still fighting?” Ravenna spat, taking another step back. “Of course you wouldn’t - you brought this on us, why would you bother to try and fix it?”

She was the curse.

“No, Rae, please–” Theo extended a hand to her sister, desperate to plead her case. “I’m trying to get back so I can help–”

And in the dark I can feel your heartbeat I tried to find the sound But then it stopped And I was in the darkness So darkness I became

Theo awoke with a jolt, drenched in sweat and gasping for air. The sudden movement sent a wave of aches rolling through her limbs while her pounding heart throbbed between her temples.

Dreams of Aneterra were nothing new, but the nightmare was different from anything she had seen before. This wasn’t seeing the world from someone else’s perspective, or watching like a third party; it was as if she had actually been there.

It was just a nightmare. It was just a nightmare - she had experienced plenty of them before. It didn’t take a witch to know that this wasn’t a premonition or a vision - this was a manifestation of her worst fears. There was no reason to give this particular nightmare any merit - her anxieties were unfounded, at least according to Memere.

But this one felt particularly vivid, and it was hard to shake.

Just the thought of her sister’s anger brought another round of overwhelming nausea. Throwing off the covers, Theo nearly tripped over herself as she bolted for the bathroom. She shoved the door open and stumbled inside, wincing at the crash of the door handle slamming against the wall. Collapsing to the bathroom floor, she barely managed to get her head over the toilet before throwing up.

Despite the minuscule amount of bile, she continued to retch and gag for a couple minutes; it was as though her body was convinced something else was still in there, even though there was absolutely no way in hell that Theo hadn’t already emptied her stomach many times over.

Completely spent, Theo closed her eyes and slumped against the toilet, temple pressing against the cool porcelain of the tank. Even without her eyes open, the ground beneath her tilted and swayed like she was on a boat during stormy seas.

God, she was a mess.

“Are you alright?”

Theo’s head snapped up towards the voice, only for her to wrench her eyes shut and groan as a fresh round of misery bashed in her skull. When the worst of it passed, Theo cracked her eyes open, blearily peering up through the dark to find Loki standing in her bathroom, staring at her as if she was a ghost.

“What’re you doing here?” The question slipped out, her exhaustion and malaise resulting in a far too blunt delivery.

“I had been on my way to the sitting room when I heard crashing come from inside your quarters; when you did not respond to my knocking, I grew worried and came inside…”

It took a moment for Theo to register what Loki had said, but when it finally clicked, she burst into uncontrollable tears.

I took the stars from my eyes And then I made a map And knew that somehow I could find my way back Then I heard your heart beating You were in the darkness too So I stayed in the darkness with you…

Of all the things Loki expected in life, attempting to console a truly distraught Theo at three in the morning while sitting on her bathroom floor was nowhere among them.

And yet, that was exactly where he found himself - cross-legged on the marble tile as he cradled Theo in his lap, her face buried in his chest as she wept with such vigor that her entire body shook.

Loki replayed the series of events that led to his present position.

Like many nights, it began because of his inability to sleep. What was rare, however, was that his insomnia was not the result of some night terror, some monster that left his mind running in circles as if it were a dog chasing its tail.

No, he had been quite content when he settled into his bed, his well-worn copy of The Eye of the World in hand for some light reading. Yet, instead of dozing off to thoughts of Moiraine Damodred and her search for the Dragon Reborn, his mind wandered back to the attack on the Met Gala.

Theo had been the only one to successfully defeat one of the mystery beings that had been discovered, revealing an ability to control the shadow creatures that continued to antagonize Midgard. The carnage left behind, however, indicated that the being proved to be quite a challenge - beyond the mess in the gallery, Theo walked away from the exchange with no shortage of wounds that would require a healer to address.

Still, she hadn’t returned to the tower with the other Avengers. Instead, she insisted on ensuring her beloved actor was safe and seeing if any victims needed care - all the while acting as if she herself was not actively bleeding from multiple parts of her body.

Selfless, stubborn creature.

From there, his mind shifted to the being who had wrought such havoc. In the immediate aftermath of the attack, there had not been much opportunity to examine the corpse before it was whisked away by SHIELD agents for further study; what he had been able to discern remained fairly generic. Humanoid in form, though the shriveled appearance of their flesh gave the impression of some type of undead creature. Spider-like black veins stretched beneath their skin, as if they had been poisoned or cursed in some manner.

Yet, he hadn’t seen anything quite like it.

At that point, Loki accepted his fate: he was nowhere near sleeping.

With that in mind, he scoured his book shelves for one of the tomes he rescued from Asgard during Ragnarok - one that he referenced from time to time, usually when SHIELD requested his insight regarding creatures that Midgard had never seen before. Leatherbound book in hand, Loki began the familiar venture to the sitting room for a sleepless night of research.

Until heavy, syncopated footsteps and a muffled crash from the next room over stopped Loki dead in his tracks.

A heavy thud, as if multiple heavy objects had been dropped simultaneously, followed. The sound came from within Theo’s quarters - a realization which only brought an increased pulse and a festering sense of dread.

Loki approached her door, rapping his knuckles on the dark wood. “Theo?”

He pressed his ear to the door, listening for any signs of movement. If he strained, he thought he heard some sound - coughing, maybe? - but nothing indicating movement.

A twist of the doorknob indicated that it had not been locked. Before he fully thought the decision through, Loki pressed the door open. He slipped inside, carefully navigating the pitch black as he began to search for Theo.

Though Theo’s space was never perfectly clean, the sitting room appeared as if nothing had been knocked over or disturbed. The sense of urgency grew as he explored further, knowing that such a racket followed by such silence never had benign origins.

A painful-sounding retch came from the direction of Theo’s bathroom, followed by a groan.

Loki strode towards the sound, careful to remain quiet in case something foul was afoot.

He rounded the corner to find the bathroom door wide open, revealing Theo hunched over the basin of the toilet as if she had just been sick to her stomach.

The pieces fell into place - he must have heard her running to the restroom and throwing the door open.

When she finished, she slumped down a bit, eyes closed as she laid her head along the seat, breathing as if she had finished a grueling training routine.

Though Theo had clearly showered since her return, she somehow appeared even worse for wear than the last time Loki saw her. Her complexion rivaled that of a ghost. Her eyes, though closed, appeared red and swollen, lashes glistening despite the darkness. Wrinkled pajamas twisted around her body in a rather unnatural fashion; combined with an absolutely disheveled braid, Loki guessed she’d been tossing and turning in her sleep.

Loki stood there for a moment, completely dumbfounded. Should he say something? What would he say? After waiting this long, would it scare her? Would saying something make things worse? If he didn’t say something, would she think he was a creep? Should he just leave?

At one point, he stopped himself and nearly laughed. He was Loki, of Asgard. How a Midgardian would react to him should not have been of concern.

However, this was no ordinary Midgardian.

He drew in a deep breath.

“Are you alright?”

The way Theo’s head shot up confirmed she had no clue he was there, or at least he had startled her. A brief moment of horror flashed across her face, only for a grimace to take hold as she clutched her head and groaned.

Loki cursed himself for startling her with such a pointless question - of course she was unwell, she would not be in such a position otherwise.

Theo lifted her head once more and cracked her eyes open, squinting up at Loki as she blinked slowly. Something about her gaze seemed… Off.

“What’re you doin’ here?” The question came out half-mumbled and a bit slurred; she listed back and forth ever-so-slightly, almost like she could not keep her balance.

“I had been on my way to the sitting room when I heard crashing come from inside your quarters,” Loki replied, frowning at Theo. “When you did not respond to my knocking, I grew worried and came inside…”

Unsure of how to conclude his statement, Loki trailed off, running his fingers through his hair.

The predicament he found himself in was well outside of his area of expertise; comforting people was something Maximoff was far better with. He briefly debated leaving to fetch the Scarlet Witch – she would know the perfect solution in a moment like this. Yet, Loki remained frozen in place, mind reeling over how to proceed. Should he try to locate a healer? Should he try to soothe her? Should he leave her alone?

The silence stretched as Loki stared at her, frantically running through different ideas in his head and dismissing them for all the reasons they might not work. Loki found himself frozen, unable to make up his mind about what he should do.

In turn, Theo simply sat there, blinking slowly as she stared up at Loki…

… Until her face crumpled and she caved in on herself, a small, hitched breath giving way to a heartbroken sob.

Such a desolate sound had no place falling from Theo’s lips.

Spurred to action by Theo’s tears, Loki lowered himself to sit on the floor beside her. He may have been an Avenger, but he certainly was not a perfect hero. Despite bravery being in the job description, he had to dig up the last of his courage to pull her into what he hoped would be a comforting embrace.

At the new touch, Theo tensed, gasping quietly as her trembling hands flew up to cover her mouth and stifle her cries.

Loki froze.

Yet again, Theo had startled, all because of him. Loki cursed himself - of course he would make a mess of what should have been a simple interaction. With his luck, she wouldn't have a thing to do with him after tonight.

It was too far to turn back now; after all, in for a penny, in for a pound.

Just before Loki lost his ambition and pulled away, Theo settled beneath his touch, shifting so her face pressed firmly against his chest; hot tears dampened the knit fabric of his shirt as she somehow began to cry even harder. Her arms slipped around his waist, clinging to him despite the way her entire body shook.

Loki cupped one hand to Theo’s neck, the pad of his thumb slowly brushing against her unusually heated skin. This time, Theo did not recoil or freeze at the change, instead melting into the touch.

Perhaps there was hope.

Motivated by a surge of courage, Loki shifted from simply holding Theo close to tracing gentle, unhurried circles along her back.

With every new circle, the smallest hint of tension slipped from Theo’s muscles; as more of her body relaxed into Loki’s embrace, her cries slowed and grew softer. Even when Theo had loosened her grip and the only sounds she made were shaky, slow breaths, Loki had no intention of stopping his ministrations.

“Theo?” He murmured, nose brushing against her hair as he looked down at her.

“M’m s’rry…” With her face fully buried in Loki’s shirt, Theo’s almost embarrassed response came out almost charmingly muffled; however, she made no effort to move.

“It’s alright.” Loki used the hand on Theo’s neck to sweep her messy braid aside, flattening his cool palm against the overheated flesh. “I take it you do not feel well?”

She weakly shook her head. “Feel Awful.”

“How about I help you to your bed so you can get some rest?”

“No, please – I can’t – ” The force with which Theo shook her head the second time caught Loki by surprise, as did the rising panic in her tone. “– Can’t go back–”

“Darling, you need rest if you’re to feel better,” Loki gently tried to rationalize, though if the heat radiating from Theo was any indication, her ability to rationalize likely had been impacted by some level of a fever. “The floor is no place for someone who is ill. You ought to rest in bed.”

“Not mine,” Theo begged, ”I can’t–”

“Would you like me to bring you to the infirmary so you might rest there?”

Theo shook her head, tightening her arms around Loki.

“I’m not sure what other options there are, as I do not think I can bring bring you to your actor—“

“Broke up.” A new pair of damp spots on Loki’s shirt accompanied the two-word interruption, punctuated by a sniffle.

“Pardon?”

Theo blindly reached to the side, drawing Loki’s eye to her mobile. He unfurled one arm to retrieve it for her. Theo didn’t even pull away from Loki to look at what she was doing as she unlocked the device before handing it back. Loki accepted, eyes scanning across the screen.

The most recent of Theo’s voice messages was from her lover, not long after the events at the Met Gala. White, hot fury shot through Loki’s veins as he read the transcription; despite what Loki had been told of the Midgardian’s supposed kindness, the message he left Theo was short, blunt, lacking any sense of care for the recipient. If anything, it was downright cruel.

Perhaps it was for the best that Loki needed to ensure Theo was cared for first, as he otherwise might have tracked the bastard down and made him regret his callous behavior. The first thing to sort out, however, was where she might be amenable to resting, since her bed and the infirmary were, for some unknown reason, unacceptable.

An idea came to mind; though it might cause others to talk, it was, up to that point, the best he could manage without waking anyone else and dragging them into the conversation.

“How about you come with me to my quarters?” Loki cautiously suggested. “You can rest there for a while, then decide later if you’d like to return to your own bed or seek out the infirmary. Would that work?”

A slow, almost sleepy nod brought a swell of tenderness to Loki’s chest and a soft smile to his face.

Loki carefully adjusted to cradle Theo in his arms before slowly rising to his feet. In what almost seemed to be instinct, Theo pressed her forehead into space between Loki’s shoulder and the crook of his neck, letting out a strained breath before settling in. Though Loki had already established the presence of a fever, it wasn’t until carrying Theo that he noticed she was not simply trembling, but downright shivering.

Careful not to jostle Theo as he navigated the tower in the dark, Loki made the return journey to his quarters with restrained haste, relying on his Seidr to help with managing doors and other environmental obstacles that otherwise could have slowed or complicated the process of getting Theo to bed.

Upon arriving in his own quarters, the dim, golden glow from a nearby lamp provided the first opportunity to take in Theo’s appearance under any sort of light; Loki paused for a moment to confirm his prior assessments regarding Theo’s condition. Much of what he discerned in the dark remained accurate, though he did find the smallest relief that it seemed she had fallen asleep while in transit and appeared almost peaceful… Were it not for the tell-tale signs of tears previously being shed, one might have been fooled into believing all was well.

With a hushed sigh, Loki brought her from the great room to his bedchambers. A flick of one finger and shimmer of emerald seidr later, Loki lowered Theo onto the bed, carefully tucking her beneath the silken sheets and the plush duvet which Loki had crafted from the finest Asgardian textiles, pausing for a moment when a soft, breathy hum snuck out of Theo and she shifted, snuggling further beneath the covers.

A few minutes later, Loki had placed a bin beside the bed in the event Theo became sick to her stomach once more, procured a glass of water and set it on the closest nightstand, and drawn the drapes shut so the morning light would not wake her.

With nothing else to distract him, Loki now had to answer the question he had yet to consider: where was he going to sleep?

The proper answer, of course, would be to find alternate sleeping arrangements, lest anyone make inappropriate assumptions about the circumstances.

But doing so meant leaving Theo by herself, essentially abandoning her when she was in the midst of a particularly vulnerable moment. Surely, she would understand if he remained close by; after all, she trusted him up until this moment, enough to abandon her own quarters in favor of staying in his. Besides, he had stayed with her once before when she felt unwell. Precedent had been set to ensure no one mistook him for less than noble intentions, given the circumstances.

Yet, as Loki crawled beneath the covers on the opposite side of the bed, the distance still felt as if he were abandoning her. What if she woke up, delirious from fever, did not see him beside her, and panicked at the lack of familiar surroundings? If Theo laid with him, Loki would know the moment she woke and could ensure she had whatever she needed; even better, he could use his Jötun heritage for benevolent means, combining it with his seidr to reduce his core temperature so he could serve as a sort of full-body cool compress.

Amidst warring thoughts, the weight of an arm draped across his chest ripped Loki from his indecision. Theo had rolled over in her sleep, curling into Loki’s side with her head resting atop the dip between shoulder and chest and one leg wrapped around his as if second nature. She nuzzled into him, oblivious to the waking world, her breath slow and deep in contrast to Loki’s racing heart.

For a moment, Loki found himself dumbstruck by just how natural it felt to lay with her tucked into his side in such a manner. In her most vulnerable moments, she found solace in his presence. In her sleep, she sought him out. And though he could make any multitude of excuses as to why - she was not aware who she curled herself around, she was not of sound mind from illness - the excuses did nothing to dispel the pure awe that resulted from realizing the trust Theo placed in him.

In the morning, he would locate Maximoff and determine how to proceed; until then, he would embrace the trust placed in him, and hopefully repay it tenfold.

He willed his seidr to work, cooling himself to offer Theo some relief from her fever, then allowed himself to drift into a pleasant sleep.

The stars, the moon, They have all been blown out You left me in the dark No dawn, no day, I’m always in this twilight In the shadow of your heart

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mochie85 · 5 months

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As part of your 1k celebrations I would like to submit the following prompt for consideration 😁♥️ feel free to bend it to your will.

Your colleague Loki finds himself in your rooms at Stark Tower for (fairly) innocent reasons.

You arrive back unexpectedly. He hides, at first.

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Fairly Innocent

One Shot Masterlist | Follower Event Masterlist | Complete Masterlist

A/N: I apologize, with my whole heart, that it has taken me this long to finish this request. So long, that I have reached a new milestone since this request was made. But I hope you enjoy it. Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: Explicit. Smut, hand job, oral (female receiving), slight DOM vibes, voyeurism, shower scene, mention of 'toys'. Happy ending. Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Your room was dark and cold. The curtains were shut leaving a small sliver of light shining from the cityscape outside. There was a stillness in the air from being untouched the last two weeks. “Now, where did she put you?” Loki hummed while looking around your room. He wandered in, using the access code you had given him. His prying eyes scanned and noted how orderly you left your room. And even after some time away, the room still smelled like you. Like citrus blooms on a winter morning.

Loki lent you some practice daggers a while ago and was keen to get them back. They were dull and lightweight. Perfect for beginner enthusiasts like the Widow, who wanted to add a new skill to her ledger. Whom Loki had promised to train, alongside you, in Asgardian combat.

Loki rummaged through your bookshelves, thinking you might have stashed them along with your books and souvenirs from your travels. He knew you loved to read. Your voracious appetite for mysteries and novels rivaled his own. He noted Robert Frost and Agatha Christie situated alongside the many romance novels.

Peculiar, he thought. He’d never known you to be interested in such fiction. You two had always discussed classic literature or Asgardian poetry. A Cheshire grin appeared on his face as he took a book with brightly colored Post-it notes sticking out of the top pages. He opened the paperback to a dog-eared page that was clearly read and reread extensively.

Lucy moaned as Cade’s fingers dipped inside her wet pussy. Trills of pleasure ran up her spine, making her unable to stand any longer. He gently stroked her as he whispered on her neck, “Don’t fight it, baby. Let go for me.”

Loki shut the book closed with wide eyes and a wider grin on his face. “Well, well, well. Who knew that the Avenger’s little darling liked to read smut?!” He said to himself looking at the volumes of romance books you had. He was quite impressed by your ability to surprise him. He thought he had you figured out. He might have to tease you about this when you return from your mission.

Loki searched your closet next, but he couldn’t find the daggers. He combed through hangers of clothing and shelves of shoe boxes till he stumbled upon several silk bags with rope tie enclosures. One bag had the length and shape of the daggers he was searching for. How sweet of her to care for the daggers and stash them in a silk purse. Loki opened the bag and reached in but was again surprised at what he found.

He pulled out a black, patent leather collar with a gold buckle. Glistening under the bright closet light, was a heart-shaped tag, hanging from the center. The name ‘Darling’ was inscribed in cursive. Stunned, Loki looked inside the sateen bag and pulled out what he mistook for his daggers- a short, riding crop that matched the patent leather of the collar. Hanging from the handle was a gold chain that had a tag etched, ‘Darling’s Master.’

An intrusive fantasy came unbidden in his mind. It was of you on all fours, with the collar adorning your neck and him standing behind you rubbing the tip of the crop against your dripping heat. “What other deliciousness are you hiding, my dear?” he whispered as he stowed the collar and whip and reached for another silk purse. Every bag he opened had a different set of negligees. Each one was more lascivious than the last.

The smile on his lips got darker as his body started responding to the different scenarios playing in his head. Each scene- novel and unique, to the set of lingerie he opened. More than once, he had to stop himself from reaching inside and rubbing the fine lace between his fingers. “Nope! No,” he chided himself. “Focus. I’m here for the daggers.” Loki took one last look and walked away before he could swipe one of your lace panties and put it in his back pocket like some pervert. “Daggers. Daggers…where are you daggers…”

He couldn’t stop smiling at the revelation he found. Memories of his last interaction with you played in his head under a new context. It was as if he was seeing you in a different light. Truth be told, he did always find you attractive. But he never once pursued it thinking it wouldn’t be favored by you, or any of the team. You didn’t get the title “The Avenger’s Little Darling” for nothing. You were beloved by all. And he was the untrustworthy, extra baggage that the team had to deal with so they could have Thor on their side.

He knew he couldn’t have you.

One last place he looked was your bedside table. If it’s not here, she must have taken them with her. Opening the drawer, Loki shouldn’t have been surprised at what he found, but he felt an exhilarating chill crawl throughout his body, nonetheless. A vibrator. A large, blue, silicone toy that was tapered at the end, was resting neatly inside. You naughty little minx.

Loki couldn’t help the state of arousal he was in. He stood up and stared at your toy, his fingers running puzzled against his lips. He imagined you spread on your bed, lost in the throes of your passion. What do you think about when you have your toy tucked inside your wet cunt? Who’s name do you moan when you’re at the edge of your climax about to fall? And how can he conspire to make sure you think of him?

Surprised, Loki looked up as he heard the keypad of your door unlocking. In a senseless rush, he closed your drawer and cloaked himself invisible. He didn’t want anyone to find him snooping around your belongings. He stood still as he blended with the shadows of your room.

He shouldn’t have hid. You did give him the access code to your room. You trusted him enough to be in here. But there was something so intimate about the things he found. He felt exposed and guilty. Loki didn’t want anyone to think of him being nefarious with you.

A small sigh of relief flooded him when he realized it was you, back from your assignment. He opened his mouth to speak and announce his presence, but he couldn’t. So many questions rushed through his mind. He wanted to ask all of them! Yet, he was struck immovable by your presence.

Had you always been so lovely? Had your eyes always been that bright and alluring? Your smile, an invitation for his lips?

Were his discoveries about you finally shedding light as to who you might be, underneath the perfect façade you seem to have cultivated for yourself? Everything he found was, he swore to the gods, erotic and arousing. But it was the fact that you surprised him that made his level of attraction to you grow.

You walked in with a heavy sigh, setting your duffel bag down on your bed and your boots onto the floor. You didn’t bother turning on your lights, as you zipped your body suit down and peeled off your armor. A rather tame set of black lace underwear shaped your body. Your exposed skin turned a rich shade in the darkness of your room.

Loki noted some bruises and scars peppering your body. The fresh welts were colored green and blue indicating they were recent and most likely acquired from your latest mission. You massaged your neck and rolled your shoulders trying to ease the ache settling into your bones.

Loki watched as you made your way, routinely, to your en suite and turned on the lights. A loud rush of water from the shower rumbled through, disturbing the silence that had enveloped you both. It took his entire strength as a god to keep standing where he was and not follow you to watch.

New fantasies came unbidden in his mind of you naked and wet in the shower. I need to leave. I need to depart before I do something that both of us would regret. He waited till he heard you close your shower door. The water made loud splashes as it hit against different curves of your body.

A few more minutes and Loki found he could move again. With a shaky breath, he exhaled and made his way to your door. He would’ve continued if it weren’t for your small sighs. Soft moans and whimpers traveled to his god-like hearing. She’s touching herself?!

Loki balled his fist to elicit pain. His fingernails dug deep into the pad of his palms, trying to overcome the overwhelming state of arousal he was in.

“…Loki…”

He stopped and nearly fell to his knees. You said his name! The honeyed tones of your moans dripped over him. Coating his entire body in primal need until it reached his cock and hardened.

He couldn’t leave now. He wouldn’t. He turned on his heel and slowly lifted his cloak, risking everything by pushing the door slightly more open.

Loki licked his lips at the sight of you lost in your orgasm. Your head was thrown back as water trickled down your body. The droplets guiding his eyes down…

…down…

…to where your fingers played with your aching cunt. Your hands explored your curves. Every dip. Every hollow. Every scrumptious mound that he wanted to devour himself.

He stood at your en suite door, his arms holding the frame above his head. He didn’t trust himself to come closer to you. Not until you allowed it. Not until you saw how his eyes became ravenous at the sight of you touching yourself to thoughts of him.

“Loki!? What the hell are you doing?” you screamed out, startled. His eyes traveled back up to yours as you finally acknowledged his presence. Your body turned flush from the heat of the water and the embarrassing situation you found yourself in.

Loki freed himself from your door and tried to answer. Nothing came out but a quivering breath and a small growl of desire. His eyes narrowed and he bit his lip. He took a step forward and closed your bathroom door behind him making your heart drop. He slowly made his way to you. Sluggish feet carrying him across your tiled floors. “Don’t stop on my account, Darling.”

“Why are you here?” you demanded.

“I heard you call out my name. And I am nothing if not a benevolent god who answers your prayers.” It was as if a switch was turned on and Loki couldn’t stop until he had you.

He watched you back into the tile of your shower. You looked like a caged animal put there for his viewing pleasure. “Why are you here?!” you repeated. It’s too late to be demure. He’s seen everything.

“I came looking for the daggers I lent you. I looked everywhere in your room. I couldn't find them.” Loki’s voice was deep but clear. You could hear the dangerous desire in his tone as he reached for the door to your shower. On instinct, you reached for the handle, stopping him from opening it.

The chase became real. He had to have you. The last hour he spent combing through your suggestive belongings had built a naughty little version of you in his head. Like a puzzle. It was the most erotically charged moment he’d ever spent. And now? Now, you were denying him!

“Last chance, Darling. If you want me to leave now, say so,” he said with a smile. “But I promise you this. I won’t stop till I have you.” His breath steamed the glass doors. Your heart pounded inside your chest as you looked into his dark eyes.

You let go of the handle and stepped back. Loki opened the door slowly, anticipation building up and pooling in between your thighs. “Good girl.”

Loki walked into your shower, still clothed. The scalding water penetrated through his white cotton shirt making it translucent under the spray. You could trace the lines of his muscle underneath. His hair became slick and affixed itself against his face. He towered over you, as he leaned over with one arm against the shower wall.

Fuck!

He lowered his face. His nose brushed against the tip of yours and you could taste his breath against your lips. “What were you thinking about?” he asked looking deep into your eyes. “And remember, I can tell when you’re lying.”

You quivered at his voice. You looked down embarrassed. “No, no. Look at me.” He said grabbing your chin and forcing you to look back at him. He kept his fingers on your face, gently stroking your jaw.

“I was thinking about you,” you admitted. Your voice was so small. You felt so fragile in his hands.

“Go on, sweet thing. What prayer can your god answer for you tonight?” he encouraged. You were mesmerized by his stare. His voice lulled you to a sense of heat and longing.

“I pictured…touching you,” you started. “I fantasized about your body holding mine.” Loki licked his lips and the tip of his tongue brushed against your mouth. It tingled and the sensation moved throughout your body, awakening every cell within it.

“Like this?” he asked, grabbing your hand gently and placing it underneath his soaked shirt. He guided your hand up his torso and held it there. You could feel his heart thumping in his chest as he guided you over his stiff nipple and then down his lean abs.

Loki didn’t take his eyes off you once. He watched how your eyes widened at his boldness. How your lips parted when you finally touched him. How your whole body moved just a fraction closer to him, capturing him in a lust-filled haze of his own.

He continued steering your hand down his body, past the hem of his pants to his aching bulge. He was big. And hard. You couldn’t imagine what he would look like, what he would feel like, once he took it out. He kept your hand on his cock, driving your hand up and down. “Keep your hand on me,” he instructed. The steam from the shower did little to prevent the shiver that ran down your spine. Nor did it hide the wetness that was now dripping from you.

“Can you feel how hard I am for you?” his arms encircled your body, pulling you closer to him. His mouth incased your lips in an uncontrollable kiss. He weaved his deft fingers into your wet hair, pulling your head back to kiss you at a deeper angle. He inhaled deeply, smelling the clean scent of your soap and shampoo.

He groaned into your mouth when he felt your hand reach inside his pants and squeeze him tightly. Loki’s eyes rolled back as you expertly palmed his stiff cock. You felt the veins pulsing in your fingertips as you pumped his dick mercilessly. He leaned over you, caging you between the wall and his eager body.

“Don’t stop, Darling,” he whimpered in your ear. “Don’t stop.” Loki bucked his hips into your hands. He captured your lips one last time before he moaned your name, releasing the pent-up arousal he’d been holding in. He fell apart in your hands, and you continued till you milked every last drop from him.

Before the water could wash away your efforts, you licked off two of your fingers, tasting his offerings. “There she is,” he said with a devilish grin. He was waiting for the real you to come forth. You seemed so demure and shy at the beginning. Nothing at all like what he found out you were. The one who reads erotic novels over and over again. The one who hides their toy on the bedside table, ready to go. The one who has a patent leather collar with their pet name etched into it.

Loki growled at the memory. He will see you in that collar. He’ll make sure of it. “But for now, I want a taste,” he said to himself. Loki started with your mouth, sampling himself in your kiss. You winced slightly when he reached for your waist. Reacting from a sensitive bruise that you acquired from your mission.

“Do you think your body can handle a couple more bruises from me, Darling?” he asked earnestly. You swallowed thickly and nodded. Loki proceeded to grab your hips and hold you in place, while his mouth eagerly marked your neck. He continued down to the base of your throat as he knelt in front of you. He captured your breasts with his tongue, paying them each attention. Your hands rested on his shoulders, gathering the white cotton in your hands as you fisted it.

When he reached your stomach, he was gentle and sweet. His hands secured your waist, pushing you slightly higher. “Wrap your leg around me,” he directed. You obeyed and placed your left leg on his shoulder.

Drips of water still fell from the shower. Loki licked and slurped each drop that fell onto your thighs. He flattened his tongue and licked a wide stripe on your warm cunt. “Fuck…Loki,” you screamed when he latched onto your nub, flicking it with the tip of his tongue. He looked up at you and watched you as you threw your head back, your ecstasy showing through.

“Did you like that, Darling?”

“Mmyes,” you whined. “God, yes!”

Loki repeated his actions, holding onto your thigh, as he savored your clit. You couldn’t hold yourself up any longer. Your knees were weakening, and you had nothing to hold onto as your hands slipped against the tile of your shower wall. “Loki, please,” you panted.

“I need to be inside you,” he moaned. The sooner he can make you cum in here, the sooner he can properly bed you on top of your sheets. He looked deep into your eyes and you almost didn’t recognize him. Hunger and desperation were hanging on his brows. The sight of him in between your legs, the feel of his lips latching onto your folds, the weight of his fingers thrusting inside you. It was all-encompassing and all too consuming.

“Oh, God! Loki!” you screamed as he inserted another finger. You laced your hand through his drenched hair, pulling every time his tongue flicked your nub. “Please, I need you inside me too. I need…” your breathing came in harsher. The steam almost suffocating you as you come closer and closer to that edge, waiting to fall.

“Don’t fight it, Darling. Let go for me,” Loki quoted your book, making you clench around his fingers. One last thrust into you and you screamed your release. Loki lapped up your swollen pussy with a greedy smile, making you shudder.

Hours later, you and Loki were lying on the floor of your room. Blankets and pillows surround you while your legs and arms tangle with each other, holding each other tightly. You were running your finger up and down his chest as he read aloud a passage from one of your “smutty romance books,” as he called them.

His voice was magnetic and hypnotizing. Every word he said came to life inside your head. “Hmm, we might have to re-enact this one,” he teased after he finished a scene.

“Yes, sir,” you whispered, hoping he didn’t hear the last word you said. It just came out. You couldn’t stop yourself from saying it. From bending to his will and wanting to please him.

“I was curious about something,” he grinned, biting his lip. “Which I hope you can enlighten me...”

“Yes?”

“When I was looking for the daggers, I came across this.” He conjured up your patent leather collar and held it up against the dim light. He next conjured up the matching riding crop and showed you the tag that was hanging from the handle. “Who was your master?” Loki asked, unsure whether he wanted to know the answer. “Why do you have this and not them?”

“I never had one,” you admitted sheepishly. “I bought that in hopes of using it one day. But we never worked out.”

“I see,” he said with a devious smirk.

“It was so pretty. I couldn’t just get rid of it.”

“Sit up. Hold your hair, while I put this on you.” You obeyed his instructions. A pool of desire is already forming in between your legs as he tightens the collar around your neck. The heart-shaped tag, ‘Darling’ felt heavy and cold as he placed it neatly on the base of your throat.

Loki wiped his thumb over the tag of the whip. Newly etched, in bold letters, was his name instead. “Well, it’s mine now, darling,” he grinned as he tested the switch on his hand. The sharp thwack stung his palm. Your heart started beating quicker.

“On your knees,” he growled.

“Yes, sir.”

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siennafrxst · 1 month

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🔭 ₊ ⊹ ~֒ forgive

pairing: loki laufeyson x female reader

universe: mcu (marvel cinematic universe)

timeline: during thor ragnarok

word count: 0.7k words

cw: hurt/comfort

click here to visit my fanfic masterlist.

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You continue to stand observing the stars from afar, glimmering luminously before your eyes. Asgard has just been destroyed due to the events of Ragnarok and the people have lost their home — for now. They were currently heading towards Midgard via a spaceship to take refuge there. Midgardians were one of the lesser intelligent species across the nine realms, but they could be very welcoming at times. Maybe they could build a new life over there…

Footsteps begin to advance towards you from behind, causing you to snap out of your thoughts and turn toward the disruption, only to spot the God of Mishcief approaching you.

A surprised yet secretly pleased expression forms on your face at the sight of Loki. You hadn’t had a proper conversation with him ever since your… fight. About him faking his death twice and impersonating Odin for years and posing to be king and betraying all of Asgard and especially you.

Yeah. A fight was one way to put it.

“Loki,” you breathe softly.

Loki connects his emerald eyes with yours, seeming to be holding something back. He was never one to hesitate, you knew that. He was always so outspoken — you’ve never seen him so rattled like this.

“I… I’m sorry, and I love you,” he mumbles in a soft tone, breaking the eye contact.

Your eyes quickly shoot up towards his, surprised with his sudden burst of affection. Before you could even gather up the words to speak up, he interupts you.

“You don’t have to say anything or even forgive me, but… I realize that I haven't been the best partner to you, and for that I am.. sorry. You have only ever been good to me, and," he stops himself to gently grab your hands and pull you closer. "You deserve so much more. I promise to you that I will do better. If you will let me.”

He sighs deeply, finally maintaining the eye contact and taking a step towards you.

“I’ve missed you since the moment you walked away from me, and I deeply regret letting you go so easily. That will never happen again — I promise.”

After all these years, you are finally hearing the words you’ve been longing to hear from Loki — and then some. You always thought it was a farfetched fantasy, but for once, it actually feels as though he was willing to change. That this time might be different.

You’ve already made the same mistake — twice — forgiving him then only for him to repeat the same mistake and somehow make it worse than how it was before. But, that’s the thing. Even after all his lies, all the betrayals you have endured because of him…

You never once regretted forgiving him.

“The Loki Odinson, God of Mischief, owning up to his past? My, where have I been this whole time?”

Loki playfully rolls his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, darling.”

A soft yet meaningful smile curves on your lips as you take a moment to process the last word that he said.

“You haven’t called me that since our fight.”

“And you haven’t looked at me with those eyes ever since I faked my death.”

“With what eyes?” You raise an oblivious eyebrow, fully knowing what he was talking about.

Loki softly shakes his head at your teasing before you let out a light chuckle once more. You gaze upon the long-haired frost giant, biting your inner cheek as you watch Loki being vulnerable to you for the first time.

"Loki," you call out in a soft tone, one gentle hand snaking up to his shoulder. "I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have let go of you so easily either. You were right — I was too quick to give up on us. But, never again. This time, we’ll try even harder to make things truly work. Agreed?”

A soft smile forms on his face — one that was sincere in a way that he never usually shows.

“Agreed.”

Before you could even react one more second, Loki cuts you off with an action that he only does once every blue moon. An action that neither of you can even recall when he last did it.

You feel gentle arms wrap you in a warm embrace. Being in his mere presence made you feel safe and at home — in a way that not even your physical home has ever made you feel. But being with him — reuniting with Loki once more — you knew, with the utmost confidence, that he was your true home. And there was no place you would rather be.

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likes and reblogs are vv appreciated.

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loki-cees-all · 21 days

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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

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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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psychospore · 1 year

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A Visit to the Healer

A/N: Happy weekend! New smutty fic for everyone!

If you like this, you might wanna check out my Masterlist for more fics

Summary: Loki visits you, an Asgardian Healer one evening to relieve his burning ache.

Pairing: Prince!Loki x AsgardianHealer!Reader

Word count: 1202

Warnings: smut, 18+ DNI, mentions of sex etc..

You are one of the acclaimed healers for the Royal Family in Asgard, a feat for someone your age. Most healers you work with were as old as Odin themselves yet you were just a bit younger than Princes Thor and Loki. Your penchant for herbology and healing magic earned Frigga's favor and Loki's attention - both being respective powerful magic welders in the realm.

You were wrapping up a day's work in your own personal greenhouse, you were immersed in the silence of the night, only hearing the sounds of nature - just how you preferred it. You were organizing the manuscripts and tomes for various potions that you were developing that was sprawling on top of the immense oak table when you hear approaching footsteps. Long, light strides crunching the leaves underneath. You peeked and saw a familiar face - Prince Loki. His chiseled face was illuminated by the moon and looking all regal in his emerald, and gold Asgardian garb.

"It's already midnight. Has mother been overworking you again yn?" the prince inquired as he draws closer to you.

"Good evening, Loki. Fortunately not, I was about to retire for the night. What brings you here tonight? You don't seem to look injured for you to need my healing power" you responded as you organized the last tome back into the shelf.

" oh but I ache, the pain rippling throughout my body like bursts of electricity, my core burning with a strong desire waiting to be quenched" he teasingly cooed in your ear, only to receive a naive response.

"Norns, that doesn't sound good, I'll prepare a potion to make you feel better" you gestured for him to sit on the wooden chair, feigning ignorance about what he just said. A blush crept up on your face but you looked away so Loki wouldn't notice.

"You know that's not what I meant yn" he said sternly.

You sighed, you were trying so hard to curb your growing desire for Loki, and him doing this isn't helping your case at all. You love how passionate he is about magic and every time he visits you would just talk about it. But this visit has a deeper meaning than the previous ones.

Did he perhaps like you too? "Tell me, what is it then that you desire?" you wanted clarity - knowing full well he wanted more than just your herbs and potions.

He drew in, his warm hand grabbing you by the waist to pull you closer. You can feel his warm breath as he nuzzles on the crook of your neck making your legs feel like jelly and you start to pool with arousal "I want to claim you - I can't fight this feeling for you any longer. I want you to be mine and mine only.. tonight and forever. Please tell me you want it too"

You tried to process what just happened but your mind had started feeling hazy from arousal, you knew you want it as much as he does, "yes - I want this and I want you"

He crashed his lips to yours in a slow and sensual kiss, tongues intertwining in a sweet dance. His hands roam to undress you without breaking the kiss and you fiddle to unbuckle his belt too. Your clothes drop by your ankle as Loki admires your supple body, glistening in the flickering light of the lanterns. You did free his cock as well, springing out of the tight confines of his trousers and towering angrily towards his belly. You were in awe of this sight and wondered if this could ever fit you.

You kissed again, now his hands roaming around your body, groping both breasts and occasionally flicking your nipples - making you groan. He lifts you up so you sit on the oak table, your legs spreading to show a wet cunt waiting to be filled. He started stroking his cock as he looked at you with his lust-filled eyes.

You started touching yourself as well, lifting a leg up the table as you drew lazy circles on your clit, making you moan in pleasure. Loki can't help himself, he rushes to grip your inner thighs, lifting and spreading both of your legs on the table now and sinking deep into your throbbing wetness. He hungrily devours you, his nose brushing on your engorged nub as he licks and sucks you. Occasionally he darts his tongue inside you.

He then proceeds to wet his digits and carefully burrows them inside you. You bucked your hips and gyrate to match the tempo as he thrust his fingers inside you. His pace quickened as you felt your walls clenching him tightly, you threw your head back as you orgasmed, flooding his fingers. He licked his finger clean from your sweet nectar as he does with your pussy too. Your whole body shuddered.

He moved between your thighs to position himself, moving your butt slightly on the edge. His cock twitched as he guided it to your folds. He teasingly drew a strip across before slowly burrowing the tip inside. You gasped at his girth as he continue to slowly inch inside you until he was balls deep. He felt your wet walls clamping down on him and you dug your nails deep into his back. The pain and the pleasure urged him to take it slowly. He thrust slowly out, only leaving the tip inside before thrusting in again. He started picking up the pace and releasing a feral grunt every time he pushes himself deeper. You responded by moaning his name over and over as he crashes into your sweet spot. The dirty squelching your bodies produce were like an aphrodisiac to your ears. Your toe fingers curled as you slowly ascend to climax.

"Loki... I... I'm about to..." You mustered in between breaths, tears forming on the corners of your eyes

"Cum for me, darling.. let it out." He shakily responded.

You arched your back and pulled him closer as you had your sweet release, flooding Loki's cock inside you.

"I'm cumming to yn... Oh fuck"

It was the last thing you heard before you felt his warm seed spilling inside you. He pulled out and slumped on a chair behind him as he marvels at the mess you both made - your legs still spreading as your pussy drips from your combined cum unto the table, and spilling unto the floor. You lie there exhausted as Loki groggily stands up to help prop you up.

"you did amazing, darling. Far better than all the nights I spent fantasizing about you. I love you" he whispered as he plants small kisses on your forehead.

" I love you too..." You trailed off as you started rubbing your legs together.

"my darling, you're still horny, aren't you? Oh dear, we need to fix that" he teased.

"It was just too good!" You shyly responded, pursing your lips.

"I guess we will be having the greenhouse all to ourselves tonight. You might need your stamina potions, darling" he quips as he takes you in for another kiss before pulling down the table and flipping you over so he could take you from behind this time.

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latent-thoughts · 2 months

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Ravished by a God - Chapter 37

ummary: When a God decides to chase you, what do you do?

You’re Tony Stark’s employee, living in the famed Stark Tower. One day, you get cornered by the notorious God of Mischief and have a very revealing experience about your own kinks. Hence begins your clandestine dance with Loki, who is all too keen to claim you as his and show you all the forbidden pleasures he has to offer.

However, your kinky dance with him is not the only concern you have. Something murky is brewing within SHIELD, and Tony Stark specifically wants you to find the root of it. What can a mere human do when caught between superheroes, gods and a deviant government? You’re about to find out.

[WARNING: This work contains NSFW explicit and taboo sexual themes like noncon/dubcon, BDSM, spanking, etc. It is strictly 18+. Reader discretion is advised. Consume your media wisely.]

Pairing: Loki/Reader

The next morning, you woke up to the sensations of intense sexual pleasure (and some soreness too). As you got your bearings, you realized that Loki had insinuated his head between your legs, and his mouth and tongue were working hard on you.

“Oh…” Immediately, your heart stuttered a beat and began to race. “I like this wake up call.”

[READ MORE]

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olet-lucernam · 28 days

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A Hollow Promise [25] chapter vi, part ii

{_[on AO3]_}

main tags : loki x original character, post-avengers 2012, canon divergence - post-thor: the dark world, canon-typical violence, mentions of torture

summary: In the aftermath of the Battle of New York, the Avengers need a few days to build a transport device for the Tesseract. With the Helicarrier damaged and surveillance offline, SHIELD sends an asset to guard Loki in the interim: a young woman who sees the truth in all things, and cannot lie.

Even long presumed dead, her memories lost to her, Loki would know her anywhere.

And this changes things.

Some things last beyond infinity. And the universe is in love with chaos.

(Loki was never looking for redemption. It came as an unexpected side-effect.)

chapter summary : astrid gathers her allies, and draws the attention of her enemies. loki pays a heavy price for a victory.

recommended listening : rebel soul, katharine appleton, maja norming

tag list: @femmealec, @mischief2sarawr

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Astrid had told the truth, as always. Ophelia was not her only appointment.

Neither was she the first, however.

Hours earlier, wrapped in a fine, black woollen pea coat and comfortable trainers, Astrid had been walking through the fog and frigid, sea-soaked air of the Cornish coastal town of Looe.

The historical fishing village was sheltered within a deep valley, prefaced inland by thick, verdant forests and winding country roads. Ivory villas and weathered stone cottages were built into the slopes of the cliffs, bordered by a riot of meadow-flora and hardy coastal shrubs, the settlement split in half by the river that decanted into the small marina, and the open, pewter waters of the North Atlantic.

The place held a kind of quaint, antique seaside charm that was ubiquitous to Britain, in Astrid’s experience- a nostalgia that was just slightly foreign to her, evoking the same feeling as the second-hand copies of those interbellum novels by Enid Blyton and Agatha Christie that she used to read on rainy days at home.

She could feel Loki watching through her eyes, dozing gently, shamelessly indolent as he clung to sleep.

Exhaling a smile, Astrid consciously drank in as much as she could. She drew the mouldering, salt-stained tang of seaweed and ocean shallows deep into her lungs, face raised to the damp air, clear-eyed and refreshed.

It was one of the many reasons to be relieved to be out of SHIELD’s custody: wherever she went, and whatever she saw, Loki could experience it through their link. And she was one of the rare, fortunate few who could go anywhere, at any time, with little enough effort.

A flush of affection bloomed in her, like a kiss at the nape of her neck, Loki reading her intentions like braille.

Astrid giggled, the ache of want in her chest ebbing slightly, and glanced out across the harbour.

It was the off-season; the tourism trade withered into hibernation with the last days of August, and first weeks of September. Even so, the picturesque village obviously received a fair number of visitors in the summer months. Across the town, there was an abundance of cafés, bakeries, fishmongers, local crafts shops, ice cream parlours, wetsuit and board rental stores. A sprawling car park had been cut at the base of the hill, and a number of small commercial pleasure boats were moored against the harbour walls, anchored between algae-stained tangerine buoys, advertising sea safaris and recreational fishing trips on printed boards affixed to the weather-rusted harbour railing. A few places were shuttered, but other businesses remained open even into November, catering to the permanent residents of the town.

As she chased the slope upwards, approaching from the narrow, eastern flank of the harbour, towards the ageing arcade and stone bridge across the river, a thought occurred to her.

“Loki. Do you like seafood?”

She felt Loki stir. Astrid could almost imagine his head lifting from his cupped hand- or rolling across a pillow to look at her, black curls spilling, eyebrows steepled in mild askance.

I tend to eat more game, I suppose, he answered cautiously. Hunts are too popular on Asgard for it to be otherwise. But I do like shellfish. Although it is seen as peasant food on Asgard. Cheap fare, common as mud, to be eaten at the harbour by tradesfolk.

“It used to be the same here, for centuries,” Astrid replied, the corner of her mouth twisting up sardonically. “Oysters were still delicious when they were only good for the poor.”

Loki laughed softly. It is ridiculous, is it not? The arbitrary standards of high taste.

He hesitated for a long moment.

I do like oysters, he admitted, almost nervous.

A lilt kicked into Astrid’s step, her mood lifting.

“Oysters, then.” Widening her stride into a loping gait, forming rolling bounce on the balls of her feet, she lifted her face to the headwinds, letting it blow her hair back. “Maybe mussels or scallops, if I can’t find any? Oh- and cream tea.”

Cream tea?

“It’s, ah- like a dessert version of afternoon tea, I suppose? It’s sometimes called Cornish tea.” Astrid crossed the bridge at a brisk clip, shoulder bag tapping at her hip. “You’ll love it. Black tea, served with split scones, clotted cream, and jam. Strawberry is traditional, but I prefer raspberry.”

At the mention of something sweet, she felt Loki’s interest instantly perk.

Astrid’s victory dimmed as Loki swiftly crushed down on his eagerness, cooling into reflexive indifference.

Then you should have raspberry, my heart, he replied mildly, like fingers skimming her cheekbone.

“Mm.”

Astrid strummed her fingers against the cross-strap of her bag, tension furling.

She wondered if she could just scream I want to give you this, let me give you this, I want to give you everything, be selfish with me, just ask me and it’s yours, yours, yours, just say the word, put me to the test, let me prove it across the connection, or if that would be too blunt.

She opted for a subtler option. For now. “Seeing as we’re breaking tradition, we could change the tea out as well.”

Peppermint?

“I thought you might prefer rosehip. Or something floral.”

It’s your tongue, darling.

Astrid nipped her lower lip.

“I like sharing my tongue with you.”

She felt his train of thought stutter, before heating.

You’re playing a dangerous game, Astra, Loki warned, dark and edging into primal, shifting into a voice behind her left ear that seemed spoken through gritted teeth.

Astrid startled, almost tripping, as she felt the sensation of the pads of his fingers swiping at her inner thigh.

Her brain short-circuited for a moment.

Hm. Are you curious, darling?

She bit her lip, restraining the impulse to goad him further.

Following Loki revealing how he could twist his magic into her through their link, Astrid had begun asking about the possibilities. The conversation had been mostly practical- but the thought had occurred to her, even if she had quickly become distracted when it struck her exactly how ingenious the method was, how brilliant Loki was, how blithely oblivious he seemed to that fact.

But now- despite herself, folding her lip between her teeth in an effort to pin her unravelling thoughts in place- Astrid lingered over exactly how far and how intensely he could project sensation into her, how much sensory feedback he received back through their link, and whether-

No. Nope. Nope, nope, no. Work first, North. We’ll explore that another time.

Despite the curl of delighted, thoroughly distracted mischief from Loki, he let the matter drop.

Astrid exhaled quietly, grateful.

Today, she was visiting an old friend. It would be unwise to arrive disarmed of her wits.

Astrid swung off the bridge and into West Looe, swerving in a hairpin turn back down the hill, sinking into the warren of the town. There were only a few figures out in the midmorning light, walking dogs or tending to their boats, the quiet seeming to echo against the rush of the sea. The narrow streets were barely broad enough to accommodate a single car, the cobbles uneven and worn smooth underfoot, none of the structures more than two or three stories tall; most of them were at least a century or two old, patchworked with modern features, dating to the days of smugglers and portside inns and the great age of sail, their timbers ancient and their walls full of ghosts and memories.

She came to a halt outside a particular storefront.

The entire street was built into the incline of the hill, its rowhouses sitting a foot or so below the edge of the pavement, squatting low. The windows of the ground floor were almost level with Astrid’s crown, the sills above within reach if she cared to make the short jump, walls a washed white between dark Tudor beams.

Astrid tipped her head up a millimetre, the aperture of her senses opening to sweep the interior, as she read the sign affixed above the door.

Witches’ Brew, it read, white font upon a rich violet backing. On the left side of the sign was the outline of a cat, paws upon the rim of a bubbling cauldron to peer at the contents.

Bookshop, was added underneath, in smaller, blunter font. Tarot. Occult. Café.

You know, Loki commented, there is an infusion made from íviðia blossoms called witches’ brew.

Astrid tipped her head. “Really?” She asked softly.

Mother sent some blossoms to my cell recently- if you care to share my tongue later?

She winced into a grin, knowing that he wasn’t going to let that go any time soon. “Mm, in exchange for cream tea?” She teased.

Astrid felt a pair of arms slip and loop around her midriff, a mouth skimming her crown.

She felt the gentle billow of his sigh, the phantom of his chest against her back.

You drive quite a bargain.

With a faint smile, Astrid stepped down to the shop’s door, and turned the handle.

A classic shopkeeper’s bell chimed overhead, jostled into motion, before the door clicked shut behind her.

She was met with the fragrance of incense- a thicker, heavier curtain of agarwood, compared to the delicately floral smoke that lingered in the training halls where she grew up, and which her father preferred- blended with the earthiness of burned white sage, and coffee grounds.

The shop was quiet. Her steps were muffled by a dark patterned carpet, the space airy and inviting, despite the low ceilings and semi-subterranean position. At the right, the space folded into a geometric puzzle of tall bookshelves, walls paved with spines, the stacks labelled by genre with signs in blackboard and chalk, a few tables laid out with bricks of bestsellers and new arrivals. To her left was the register- unoccupied, with a bell to ring for service- and several tables and shelves, displaying various occult-themed wares. There were box-trays of tumbled, semi-precious gemstones, kitsch plastic goblets with dragons curled around their stems, dowsing crystals and decorative glass figurines, starter guides to palmistry and divining the stars.

Her eyes skipped past all of them, and up.

A large sign was placed at the bottom of a flight of narrow stairs. It advertised the café on the second floor, and tea leaf readings.

Astrid didn’t move to ring the bell on the counter, but the one at the door must have been enough.

“I’ll be right with you, dear!”

A woman’s voice called down from the upper floor. It was American-accented, almost neutral, but underscored with something in the region of Massachusetts.

Astrid smiled, folding her arms and turning away.

“That’s alright!” She replied, voice raised to carry as clear as struck crystal, twisting at the waist to speak over her shoulder. “Take your time! I’m here to see a friend.”

Movement upstairs stilled.

A beat passed, before Astrid felt the familiar crackle of magical wards being activated.

Loki reacted, his mana surging into her nerves with a precision that knocked the breath from her chest, pressing up to the surface of her skin, preparing to force his own counter-wards into her flesh.

Catching her breath, fingers fluttering at the foreign magic in her blood, Astrid sent him a gentle nudge of reassurance.

“Did you not hear the word friend, Agatha?” She yelled up, tone dry and hip cocking. “Your wards didn’t react when I walked in. Now would you please quit it?”

Before Loki tries to rip apart your spellwork and fracture your magical core in the backlash, she added internally.

Don’t tempt me, darling, Loki warned, poised like an adder to strike. Who is she?

The wards lingered, bristling like spines- before settling back.

A moment later, Astrid heard footsteps, and the creak of the ageing banister under new weight.

As I said. She’s a friend… of a sort.

Of a sort?

The subject of discussion halted, a few steps above ground floor.

Astrid remained with her back turned for several seconds, shoulder blades open and unguarded.

After deeming that her message had sufficient time to sink in- if it was going to at all- Astrid turned.

It had been about a century and a quarter, chronologically, since they had last seen each other- during the last of her father’s missions that Astrid had accompanied him on, before she had gone looking for answers.

The inciting incident that drove her to look for answers, in fact.

True to form, however, Agatha Harkness had adapted, and today was the very image of a modern, new-age witch.

Stocky, square-jawed, and casually confident, she possessed the mien and bone structure that would command the description of a handsome woman. Dressed in plimsoles, thick black leggings, and a cable-knit sweater the exact velvety depth of wolfsbane, she looked deceptively, cosily middle-class, her dark chestnut hair styled in a cloud of tight waves to her shoulders, framing her fair, round face and dark cobalt eyes.

“Well.” She draped an elbow across the rail, sleeves rolled back, sizing Astrid up with a wide, crooked smile and a gaze as hard as flint. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

Astrid was simultaneously reminded of a salacious, bored housewife with a mind like a steel trap, and a large crocodile sunbathing by the water’s edge.

“It’s good to see you, Agatha,” Astrid said sincerely, light as air. “You look well. I’m glad.”

She tried to sacrifice my soul to Mephistopheles once, Astrid admitted to Loki, deciding that it would be better to get it out of the way now.

She did what? Loki snarled, alarmed.

Long story. Daddy stepped in. She came to regret it.

She could feel Loki glaring into her. Because you made her regret it, or because she decided to regret it? Because that’s quite a distinction, darling.

Astrid almost laughed. His mind was always so quick.

Alright, fine. A little of both.

Jaw and mouth pursed tightly, Agatha’s eyes flitted sharply across and behind Astrid’s form, darting as dragonflies.

Astrid softened her stance, loosening her limbs and opening her posture.

“It’s just us,” she said reassuringly.

Conveniently, Astrid did not mention that us included the sorcerer-prince whose mind was currently linked to her nervous system.

Astra.

His tone was grim, steeled, but quietly restrained.

Astrid sensed the unspoken undercurrent underneath- that he wanted her out of that shop, now.

Astrid reached for him, slotting herself into his edges, feeling him shift to accommodate her.

Please trust me, Loki. I have this.

She felt him hesitate, her calm focus an emollient.

Besides, she added. You might find that you like her.

I highly doubt that, dove, Loki replied haughtily, even as he relented.

She kept silent. Something told her that Loki would refuse to see the similarities, even if she informed him of exactly how her long story with Agatha had ended.

Agatha’s expression had stiffened slightly, eyes narrowing to a squint.

“Just so that we’re clear,” she drawled, gesturing vaguely across her with a jabbing index finger, “you’re not here to check in on me, or- drag me away to some kind of tribunal, are you?”

Astrid tipped her head consideringly. “Have you done anything to warrant it?”

Once again, Astrid opted not mention that she already had a fair idea of the answer. She had made it her responsibility to know; confidence in her decision didn’t negate the gamble, and Astrid wouldn’t ignore her culpability if things went sour.

As far as she could tell, however, Agatha had been smart. She had spent the years since they had last seen each other travelling and researching and collecting, restraining herself to a few petty grudges, mild curses, and mostly harmless, mostly necessary fraud. All in all, nothing that Astrid had found worth getting into a snit over.

Besides. That thing with the carnivorous rabbit had been pretty funny.

Astrid could feel Loki trying to pretend that he wasn’t intrigued.

Agatha snorted. “Not in my book, but we both know that doesn’t mean much. Even my best behaviour means being a little badsometimes.”

“Mm. Well, so long as they deserved it, I’m happy to remain ignorant.”

Brows raised, corners of her mouth tugging into a shrug, Agatha looked pleasantly surprised.

“Huh. Well, in that case- it’s good to see you too, Little Miss Dante,” she said wryly, dragging out the old nickname as though she were dusting off a spellbook, descending the last few steps. “Now that we’ve got the formalities out of the way, how have you been for the past- oh, hundred and thirty years or so?”

“Not quite so long on my side, Madame Virgil,” Astrid admitted, satin-smooth as sugar ribbons, “but I’ve- been busy.”

The Divine Comedy? Loki noticed.

Mm, good catch.

He paused, quietly assessing- before relaxing slightly in realisation.

Aha. I see.

Astrid held down her smile, but sent its warmth in his direction.

“And what about your dish of a father?” Agatha asked.

“Not interested, Agatha.”

And still hung up on whoever gave him that watch.

“Huh. Pity.” Agatha paused, appraising Astrid with long, slow sweeps. One forearm folded against her lower ribs, the opposite hand raised, fingertips rubbing together. “Any luck, then, dear, with that little- soul-searching identity quest of yours?”

Lifting one shoulder, Astrid let herself smile abstrusely.

“Some. Thank you for asking.”

“Well, you know. I like to know who and what I’ve made a deal with,” she said, head lowered into an unblinking stare, as though wondering how Astrid’s liver might taste, “as a rule.”

“It’s a good rule.” She said mildly.

Agatha looked at her for a long moment, one corner of her mouth and eye tensing- then straightened, clapping her palms together and spinning on her heel.

“Well, since you came all this way- fancy some tea? I could read your leaves for you! I must say, I’ve gotten pretty good- or, well, as good as you can get, with fortune-telling. It’s always a bit of a crapshoot, you know. Less mess than the animal guts, though.”

Astrid adjusted the strap of her bag against her shoulder as Agatha began to head up towards the café, not even waiting for her reply.

“Why not? We do have a lot to catch up on.” She began to follow her up the stairs, drawing a shallow breath as she went in for the kill. “And I think I have a way to get Karmar-Taj off your back so that you can come out of hiding, so I’m sure you’ll want to-”

Agatha turned back to her sharply. “What?”

Her eyes were slightly wild, incredulous, and treacherously hopeful.

Reflecting briefly, Astrid supposed that she should feel a little bad.

That was, if not for the memory of choking sulphur, of her face and throat scorching with brimstone-heat, and the sound of dimensions ripping apart like adipose from muscle tissue and Agatha laughing broad and wild- just before Mephistopheles betrayed her, just before Astrid regained the strength to yank the witch away from the consequences of her own actions.

Just because she had forgiven did not mean she was inclined to be nice.

Besides. Agatha would respect her less if she was.

Loki watched her work, ruthlessly, using honesty as a weapon and the truth like she she owned it, cautious and amused and a little proud.

Astrid arched her brows, both at him and the witch standing before her.

“You didn’t think I’d come without a gift, did you?”

Some time later, a platter of a dozen shucked oysters in front of her, seated with a sea view and décor of scrubbed wood and clean white walls, Astrid made the first entry on her shopping list.

Tea leaves.

[PREVIOUS] | [MASTERLIST] | [NEXT]

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chantsdemarins · 1 year

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Updated Masterlist (3/29/24)

Loki Fanfics 💚

🏰Breath of the Æsir (Loki X Fem.Reader) 18+readers only A Medieval Loki AU Fan Fic

Frost Secrets From the Other Son (Loki X OFC) 18+ readers only

A mid-career journalist from Midgard becomes intertwined with Loki, inadvertently revealing his true heritage through their risky affair. This story re-imagines how Loki discovers he is Jötunn.

Last Christmas on Midgard (Loki X Reader) 18+ readers only, explicit content

It's the 1980's and Loki, Thor, and the whole gang are trapped on Midgard in a shabby chic ski lodge due to their own negligence. Loki heads to town to find guests for an impromptu Christmas party and unintentionally meets a very important person from the brother's long and possibly forgotten history...

The Mischief of a Familiar Legend (Loki X Reader) 18+ readers only

Loki makes his return to Asgard after a long absence. He has a particular problem, every winter solstice, it seems he becomes Jötunn against his will. Can you help him break the curse? 😉

High Moon Series 🌙 This series takes place possibly thousands of years in the future when most civilizations and even Norse gods are now animated by artificial intelligence.

The Good Deeds of Replicant Harbinger 8970 (Loki X Reader) 18+ readers only, explicit content

Loki has become an AI against his will. He is desperate to earn his entrance to Valhalla and return to his family, but as an augmented being, there is no "off switch." This is Loki's search for his AI creator and his hope to finally go home.

Where does Heartbreak get Stored if Not in your Quantum Drive? (Loki X Reader) 18+ readers only, explicit content

Loki is searching for your algorithm, the person who created the AI program that has kept him in suspended animation. He finds you in a rural part of Big Sur, California, will he leave this world behind or fall in love along the way?

The Pitfalls of Obligatory Haptics

(Loki x Reader) (Loki x OFC) 18+ readers only, explicit content

Loki’s story as an AI continues in three new parts.

This Year’s Enigmatic Plus One 🪅🎉 Part 1 “So Much for Talking”

(Loki x Reader) 18+ readers only, explicit content

Words: 2,574

Summary: Loki returns to your life after a 10-year absence. The moral of the story, some Loki’s turn into trees, and others drive Porsches and escape from the 10th century just to torment you.

Smut rating: Yes 🔥🔥🔥

Plot rating: There is a plot hidden in the weeds of ⭐️ smut.

Loki Fandom Art!

Loki Art Series 1

Loki Art Series 2

Loki Art Series 3

Loki Art Series 4

Loki Art Series 5

Tom Hiddleston Fanfics

Customer Service Kink Part 1 18+ readers only, explicit content

An innocent white elephant Christmas gift lands you at a secret Hollywood sex party only to meet a British actor with a very particular kink and a guilty conscience. What in the world does fate have in store for you?

Customer Service Kink Part 2 18+ readers only, explicit content

You and Tom can't seem to forget one another. It's confusing, but Tom follows his heart to your workplace, even though he thoroughly detests LA. You find solace at your apartment, a strange connection has been made, but will it last?

Find Tom Part 1 18+ readers only, explicit content

An after-party along the foggy northern California coast turns intimate when you follow Tom back to his rented Sea Ranch estate. It's just that he is having a tiny mid-life crisis. Will that thwart your clandestine meeting, or will you and Tom find a connection beyond the basic hook-up?

Find Tom Part 2 18+ readers only, explicit content

An after-party hookup turns into a bittersweet weeklong romance for Tom and the reader.

Real Villain Training 18+reader only, explicit content

Tom is hanging out with some real jerks for a new role, and he runs into you, literally. Your depression has caused your life to turn a little black and white, could this handsome stranger possibly add some color back? (at least to your cheeks🥵)

#loki fanfic #loki smut #dom!Loki #loki fanfiction #Loki Laufeyson #loki odinson #dom!loki smut #loki smut oneshot #loki x ofc #loki god of mischief #marvel loki #Loki Fanfics #loki fan fiction #loki x reader smut

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use-your-telescope · 6 months

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When Everything's Made to be Broken - Chapter 3: I'm Still Not Sure What I Stand For

Summary: Theo makes a decision. The Avengers meet a prospective new member.

Author's Notes: Hey look, it's the chapter that has the first snippet I posted back in like, February! This song is split between two chapters, otherwise it would be a 10k chapter... next chapter (again, already written!) will likely come on Saturday, 10/28.

If you enjoy, please reblog!! I'm a lil' blog (less than 100 followers, haha) and reblogs really help me out <3

Content Warnings: None!

Word Count: 3,957

Read on AO3 | When Everything's Made to be Broken Masterlist

Song: Some Nights - fun.

Some nights, I stay up cashing in my bad luck Some nights, I call it a draw Some nights, I wish that my lips could build a castle Some nights, I wish they'd just fall off But I still wake up, I still see your ghost Oh, Lord, I'm still not sure what I stand for, oh What do I stand for? What do I stand for? Most nights, I don't know anymore

If there was anything Theo could count on, it was that her cousin Max would inevitably disapprove of almost all of Theo’s life choices.

“Are you insane ?” The tenor of her cousin’s voice blared through the speaker, furious about the news she shared. “Seriously Leenie, you know you’re insane, right?”

“Sometimes, that’s all I have to give me comfort.” Theo drawled, cradling her phone between her ear and her shoulder as she packed her apartment up. “Max, don’t you get it? They’re alive - this is our chance!”

“No, no, no –” he retorted, “things are perfectly fine right now! There is no reason for us to go digging up the skeletons we buried -”

“Why are you so upset about this?” She said, rolling her eyes. “You literally have nothing to lose - if this works, we get our lives back. If this doesn’t work, we will stay here and nothing changes!”

“I have nothing–” A strangled groan came from the other side of the phone. “You are impossible, Leenie! What are the others going to think? What’s Mémère going to think? You’re putting all of us at risk–”

“Mémère has been pestering me to help with the shadow creature problem anyways,” Theo interrupted, “and might I remind you that between the two of us, I’m the one who has the authority to make this sort of decision.”

“I can’t – I can’t believe you,” Max sputtered; Theo could picture him walking around his house, flailing his arms in exasperation as she refused to back down on her plan. “After everything we sacrificed to get here, you’re going to risk ruining it for them?”

“They’re my family, you asshole,” Theo snapped, “and until two nights ago, I thought they were dead. I thought I would never see them again, and I would never see my home again, but now there’s a possibility I can have my life back! So yes, I am willing to risk everything!” Staring at the half-filled boxes around her, Theo sighed; a pang of nostalgia surged through her chest at the thought of seeing the constellations that filled her childhood in something other than her dreams. “Max, they can put an end to all of this - don’t you want to go home?”

For years, Theo had dreams where she experienced the world through her sister’s perspective, but until she found out her sister was alive Theo assumed that was all they were: dreams. Her mind playing tricks on her, making her feel connected to people who hadn’t walked the earth in a long time. It wasn’t hard to rationalize - lots of people dreamt about loved ones after they passed.

However, if it was true - if they were really alive… Maybe they weren’t just dreams. Maybe she was still connected with them and seeing what they saw. Maybe her sister was staring at the skies like they used to, remembering the tales she told Theo when they’d sneak out late at night to escape the times when it all felt like too much.

Even if Theo had seen the world through Rae’s eyes, she wondered what Rae looked like after all the time that had passed. Was she still as lean as Theo remembered, with sharp cheeks and piercing amethyst eyes that saw through everything? Was her nose still hooked ever-so-slightly?

A shaky exhale came through the other end of the phone.

“This is our home now, Leens -” Max softened his tone, “I know you miss them, but even if it’s true that they are alive, how do you know they aren’t choosing to stay there? How do you know they would even want to help? Or that it would work?”

“Max, there’s no reason to believe they wouldn’t try to find me again - they’re my family ,” Theo protested, pinching the bridge of her nose with irritation at Max’s very blatant disapproval of her decision. “Look, I get it - after all this time it’s scary to think about the possibility that we gave up hope when they were still alive and we resigned ourselves to being refugees. But wouldn’t you rather know for sure than sit here wondering what if ?”

Theo continued haphazardly tossing items into boxes - she had to have everything ready for moving into the tower. Movers would be coming in a week, and she would have to say farewell to the brownstone she’d called home for so long.

The thought of leaving her little borough was tough to swallow - what would she do when she couldn’t stop into the bodega on her way home from work and tease Carlos about the girl who kept coming in to buy stuff just to talk to him? There was no way the Avengers ever went to bodegas when they needed something, much less talked to normal people. It seemed like they were locked up in their tower whenever they weren’t making appearances or going on flashy missions. They probably had cleaning staff and a chef that they interacted with, but beyond the staff it was difficult to imagine the Avengers living normal lives and running their own errands.

God, if Tony Stark was as obnoxious and boisterous as he seemed, being locked in a tower with him would absolutely result in Theo committing murder…

Maybe she shouldn’t have agreed to this.

But if it meant she could be reunited with her family, if they could finally go home and rebuild… Maybe she could hold off on murdering the Avengers’ sugar daddy.

“I can’t stop you from doing this, can I?”

Max’s voice snapped Theo back to the present.

“No, you can’t.” Theo shook her head, adjusting how she cradled the phone so she could tape a box closed. “I gave SHIELD my terms today and they accepted. Whether you like it or not, I’m going. You’re second in command while I’m gone - you know that, right?”

“Fucking insane,” Max muttered, “This is fucking insane.”

“Yeah, I heard you the first thirty times.” Theo replied, rolling her eyes yet again.

“Fine, fine! I will try to keep Mémère in line and make sure shit doesn’t implode,” Max relented, “You have to tell the council though - I do not condone this whatsoever.”

Fuck, Theo forgot about the council.

“Chill out - I’m sure Mémère already told them.”

Well, she was assuming, but they’d find out one way or another. After all, there was going to be a press conference to announce her new role upon completion of SHIELD’s onboarding process, so it wasn’t like it was going to be a secret.

Max’s frustration meant the conversation didn’t last much longer; then again, it wasn’t like there was much else for the two to discuss. If anything, she was a bit relieved to be done talking to him, even if he was family.

The moment Max was no longer on the phone, Theo let out an exhausted sigh.

Maybe Max was right - maybe she was getting caught up in this for nothing. Maybe she wouldn’t get to them in time. Maybe it was actually a lie after all. Maybe this would re-open old wounds. Maybe she would be killed before finding anything. Maybe…

Wings flapping brought Theo’s attention to her open window. A pair of black, beady eyes stared at her, iridescent feathers shimmering in the light from Theo’s apartment.

Not a crow - too big to be a crow. The beak wasn’t like a crow’s, and the feathers around it were far more pronounced.

Definitely a raven.

Ravens weren’t common in urban areas, and seeing one on its own?

Well, if that wasn’t a sign, she didn’t know what was.

This is it, boys, this is warWhat are we waiting for?Why don't we break the rules already?I was never one to believe the hypeSave that for the black and whiteTry twice as hard, and I'm half as likedBut here they come again to jack my style

“Dr. Theolene Amaris,” Nick Fury’s voice rang out in the meeting room as a picture of a lithe woman appeared on screen. “ - also known as the Silver Shadow, the Celestial Phantom, and the Cursed Moon.”

It was only a few hours earlier that everyone was notified of the mandatory briefing, which was described as “urgent.”

Moments before, Loki found himself pondering the nature of the briefing while everyone packed into a bright conference room. In front of each Avenger, a manila file folder sat prepared for them with information related to the subject in question.The faces of his team members shifted as they developed their first impressions on the subject of their briefing, her likeness blown up on the screen at the front of the room.

Despite exceeding the capacity of the space, Loki managed to secure his usual seat in the back, conveniently located near the door for an easy escape. It was a habit that lingered from his earlier days in the tower, but having an easy escape from what were normally tedious meetings was still a benefit that Loki took advantage of more often than not. Even better, there was an empty seat next to him, lessening the otherwise inevitable sense of claustrophobia that would have eventually reared its ugly head.

She really didn’t look like much. The only noteworthy feature in her appearance was the thick mane of silver hair that tumbled down her back, stopping just above her waist. Otherwise, she appeared to be like any other Midgardian: clad in all-black, a beanie atop her head with black sunglasses obscuring her features as she walked down the street. If Loki passed her in real life, there was no way he’d offer her a second glance, or even a first.

With that in mind, it was safe to assume that in this first image, she was practicing urban camouflage – blending in with her surroundings by altering her appearance and attire to mimic those around her. The less attention she drew to herself, the easier it would be to slip in and out unnoticed; it also created an additional challenge if anyone sought to locate her. As someone who’d had plenty of experience with stealth, Loki already had an idea of what her skill sets may include.

Stark studied the first image of her, brow furrowed as he spoke up. “Hell of a name, but she doesn’t look like much. What’s her doctorate in? Bad poetry? Sad music? Scaring parents?”

“Emergency Medicine.” Fury glared at Stark while Agent Hill changed the display to a second photograph. “Assuming she isn’t a serious threat is both the first and last mistake you’ll make about her.”

The second image must have been captured in combat. She crouched down as though she just landed from a maneuver, the obsidian hood of a frayed cloak masking the top half of her face as she held a black longsword composed entirely of what appeared to be magic in one hand. Her other hand radiated with darkness as it touched the ground, ready to launch some kind of spell. Blood smeared across her jawline, a scowl across her lips as a pair of corpses lay in the background. Unlike the first photo, now he could see a scar that ran down past the bottom of her lip, almost giving her the appearance of a permanently split lip. A second scar cut through the outside edge of her eyebrow, angling out towards her temple.

One detail piqued his interest: of all the realms that Loki had visited, he did not recognize where she was. He had to give it to Fury – this picture certainly made her appear far more intimidating.

“She specializes in shadow magic—“

The room erupted as all the Avengers fired off questions at the director.

“Shadow magic? Wait, is she the one behind those shadow beast-things we’ve been fighting lately?”

“What does she want?”

“Is she working for Dr. Doom?”

“Did HYDRA give her those powers?”

“What kind of villain studies emergency medicine?”

“Maybe this will help explain things.” Agent Hill tapped a screen as the image before them went to a video.

Loki had seen this video before - it was nearly impossible to miss, having been plastered all across the news for weeks. A Midgardian woman single-handedly eliminated an entire swarm of the shadowy monsters that had plagued New York City recently, all while in a subway car. Somehow, no one knew who she was or the methods used to exterminate the pests. It was obvious from the video that it was magic of some kind, though it was different from any magic Loki had ever encountered in his life and it did not resemble anything he had ever studied. Though he hadn’t admitted it to anyone, he was curious to meet this Midgardian and learn her abilities for himself.

Of course, that was assuming she was Midgardian. There were many species who appeared to be Midgardian, though biologically they were different. Usually, it was easy for Loki to sense if someone was Aesir, Midgardian, or otherwise; however, no indication that she was anything extraterrestrial revealed itself to him.

No, this woman must have been Midgardian.

“That’s her?” Romanoff inquired, arching a perfectly groomed brow at Hill.

“Wait wait wait , I thought she was the bad guy, but she’s killing the shadowy monsters here…” Wilson said, gawking at the screen. “Unless she’s really crazy and likes killing her own, this doesn’t make sense.”

“I’m telling you, if she’s the big bad and studied Emergency Medicine, she’s definitely got a screw loose,” Barnes said, “and that’s coming from the guy with a vibranium arm.”

“This incident was weeks ago - how is it that we are just now learning of her identity?” Rhodes interjected.

“She is not our enemy,” Agent Hill finally explained, raising her voice over the incessant chatter. “She has agreed to help the Avengers find the root cause of the shadow creature problem and exterminate the beasts.”

Stunned silence permeated the room. The ticking of the clock above Fury’s perpetual scowl only emphasized the blaring lack of sound.

Loki could count on one hand the number of times he had ever witnessed total silence from the group; to see the group go from so animated to so silent nearly gave him whiplash.

“She’s joining the Avengers?” Stark’s disbelief was painted all over his face. “Emo queen Rapunzel is joining the Avengers?”

“Not exactly,” Agent Carter said, “She is coming on board specifically to help with the shadow creatures.”

“If she’s so powerful, why isn’t she already a part of the Avengers?” Banner asked, leaning in as he met Fury’s glare.

“This is a temporary arrangement.” Fury crossed his arms. “We struck a deal with her.”

“So she comes in and helps with the shadow creatures, and then what - she just disappears?” Captain Rogers pressed, “Don’t you think someone with expertise in shadow magic should be kept under close watch?”

“You’d be a fool to think she hasn’t been on SHIELD’s radar for a long time.” Fury crossed his arms and glowered at the group. “She turned down past offers to join the Avengers. Your mission is to convince her to stay.”

“Convince her to stay?” Romanoff shot Fury a wary glance, while others regarded the director as though he grew another head.

“Assuming all goes well, we want her to remain on the team after the shadow creatures are eliminated,” Agent Hill explained. “She is highly adept in both physical and magical combat, and she has expertise in stealth operations. She fills in some key areas of the team that have been lacking, while her versatility allows her to fit into a variety of smaller teams with ease. However, we need you to convince her to stay.”

“Dr. Amaris cut her teeth in a different realm,” Fury added. “She has trained with threats far more powerful than what we have encountered here on earth, and fought to survive in far worse scenarios. Her experiences and insight would be invaluable in our operations.”

“Okay, but if you had to strike a deal with her, that still raises some questions…” Banner hesitated, raising an eyebrow at Fury. “It makes it sound like she wasn’t exactly keen to help protect the world.”

“Her skills are far too valuable to not be utilized.” Fury glared at Banner. “What I was going to say before someone interrupted my briefing is that she is also an incredibly powerful healer.“

“How do we know we can trust her?” Wilson asked. “I’m no wizard, but shadow magic sounds like trouble at best.”

Barton agreed. “Besides, Nat has us covered in stealth.”

“You know how to make a woman feel appreciated.” Romanoff coyly winked at Barton.

While Loki wasn’t one to regularly agree with Wilson, for once he made a good point: this was something Loki was unfamiliar with, and at the very least it sounded dubious.

“Because if I wanted to kill you, you would already be dead.”

Every head in the room snapped towards the entrance, eyes wider than dinner plates as they gawked at the source of the voice.

Leaning against the closed conference room door was the subject of their briefing. In real life, Theolene Amaris was smaller than Loki expected - not short by any means, as she appeared to be slightly taller than Maximoff and Romanoff; she was probably the average height for a Midgardian woman. However, she was lanky, with elongated limbs and a slight figure. She carried her head high with relaxed posture, one leg crossed in front of the other as she leaned on the doorframe with hands loosely tucked in her pockets. She didn’t seem to be intimidated by the strong personalities in front of her, even as she crashed their briefing.

Dr. Amaris sauntered into the room, eyes scanning over each of the Avengers with a smirk on her face. When she reached Loki she paused, quirking her head to the side as the curl of her lips increased. “Looks like one of us might need to change.”

At first, Loki was perplexed by her remark. Upon a second glance, it became obvious. They both wore almost identical outfits: black button-up shirts with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, tucked into tailored black trousers that showed a bit of ankle, and black Oxford shoes.

He couldn’t help the snort that escaped him, a smile creeping across his own features as he allowed his shoulders to relax.

It was unusual for someone to make him laugh, especially on a first encounter. And to shock the Avengers in such a way? Well, he certainly was intrigued.

“It seems we have similar tastes in apparel,” Loki commented coolly, wondering about the nature of her remark.

Just then, Theo pulled a hand out of her pocket and snapped her fingers, instantly changing her outfit into a pair of ripped black jeans, a faded gray shirt emblazoned with some sort of sigil and the word “Queen,” and a pair of black sneakers.

Loki could feel the magic pouring off of her - while she was no god, it was apparent to him that Fury wasn’t kidding when he said she was much more powerful than she let on.

“There, that’s better.” She dropped into the seat beside Loki, leaning back and kicking her feet up onto the table before sticking out one hand. “You must be Loki?”

“Indeed, and you must be Dr. Amaris.” Loki offered a wry grin, shaking her hand with a firm grip. “A fellow sorcerer, I see.”

“You could say that,” She winked, returning the gesture with a firm grip. “Call me Theo. Dr. Amaris is what my residents call me.”

From the opposite side of Theo, Thor beamed at the sight of his brother being surprisingly friendly to the Avengers’ newest addition.

It took every ounce of self-restraint for Loki to prevent himself from rolling his eyes at his older brother. “Pleasure to meet you, Theo.”

“Don’t get any funny ideas with Rapunzel here, Reindeer Games.” Stark warned, apparently having already settled on a nickname for the newest team member.

Loki’s attention diverted to Stark, sending invisible daggers at the man. Even though they had come a long way from the distrust present when Loki first joined the team, there were certainly still moments where Stark got on his nerves.

This time it was Theo’s turn to snort.

“Rapunzel? That’s the best nickname you’ve got, Tin Man?” Theo cocked one eyebrow at the billionaire as she laughed, brushing a piece of hair over her shoulder. “I may have long hair, but good luck with trying to lock me up in this tower.”

“Watch out, or I might invent something so I can–”

“-- Then again, you named your AI system FRIDAY, so I shouldn’t be surprised,” She continued, unfazed by Stark’s threat. “Seriously, what the hell kind of name is that?”

“Says the person named Theolene...”

“First of all, I just told you - I go by Theo, not Theolene. Second, I can’t help it that my mother has terrible taste in names. Third, Loki’s helmet has horns, not reindeer antlers. For a genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist , you should know the difference.” Theo turned to the other Avengers. “And while I’m correcting people, I don’t specialize in shadow magic. I specialize in celestial magic, of which shadow magic is a subset. Dr. Doom is a joke, HYDRA wishes they gave me these powers, and my refusal to become an Avenger has nothing to do with a lack of desire to protect people, it’s because I don’t want to spend my time playing superhero when I can be more useful as a doctor. Although whichever one of you suggested I had a screw loose - Bucky, I believe? - was probably right. At least, my cousin would agree with you. He’s pissed that I agreed to this.”

For the second time in mere minutes, the entirety of the Avengers were stunned into silence. If there were two words that best described the collective response, “utter bewilderment” would be Loki’s choice.

“Wait a minute—“ Wilson blurted out, “How long have you been listening to our briefing? Have you been here this whole time?”

“Long enough to know you are just as skeptical of me as I am of you. It’s nothing personal, I know - I would be skeptical of me too! still, this has been enlightening.” Theo rose to her feet, gliding back to the entrance. She spun around, bowing with a dramatic flourish while flashing a cheshire grin at the crowd. “See you next Monday for your press conference!”

With a flick of her wrist, a series of black runes appeared all over her arms, flowing down her limbs like a stream of water. When they reached her fingertips, they rose into the air and evolved, surrounding her until she was obscured from view; in a flash of white, she disappeared, leaving nothing but a faint shimmer. The entire process took at most a few seconds, but the effect lingered far longer.

It was a finale to the encounter that was almost as dramatic as her introduction.

If Loki’s instincts were correct, she was just getting started.

And that's alright (That's alright) I found a martyr in my bed tonight She stops my bones from wondering Just who I, who, I, who I am Oh, who am I? Mmm, mmm...

#loki #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki odinson #loki x ofc fanfiction #loki smut #(eventually)#slow burn #loki fic #friends to lovers #longfic #wemtbb #when everything's made to be broken

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mochie85 · 11 days

Text

House of Cards

These Wicked Games Collections | Complete Masterlist

Summary: You and Loki finally confront each other about your feelings and what went wrong. Suggested Song: "Fantasy" by The Driver Era Word Count: 2.9K Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Warnings: Smut. Dominating/Controlling Loki, Angry sex, rough sex.

Loki’s room was dark and humid. Thick waves of moisture rolled to you from his en suite, bringing with it the scent of his soap and aftershave. He must have taken a shower moments before movie night, you mused to yourself.

As the latch on his door clicked closed, the fireplace roared to life startling you. The heat from the fire only made his scent grow deep and heady. Warm yellow light canvased the room. You followed the flicker of the flames as your eyes took in Loki’s private chambers.

There you were…alone in his room. His sanctuary. A rare opportunity to sneak around and find out more about the intimidating god of mischief. Nothing had changed since that fateful night when you challenged him to Blackjack. That following morning, you were too hurt and busy trying to get out of the mortifying situation you walked yourself into to appreciate anything else.

His desk sat in the middle of the room, facing his bed. A house of cards was meticulously crafted on top— an elaborate pyramid of angles and shapes. Some cards, magically teetering on their corners. You had forgotten your deck that night, in a hurry to leave and lick your wounds from Loki’s casual opinion of your relationship with each other.

You reached out to take one— a discarded card lying on the bottom layer. You focused on the filigree and the cherub on the back cover, greeting you back.

“I thought I told you to wait for me on my bed?” His deep voice froze your movements, squeezing the air from your lungs. You turned quickly to find Loki, already closing the final steps to you.

“Loki, I-” He didn’t let you finish as he seized your lips and invaded your senses once again. His fingers laced themselves in your hair. His other hand pulled your shirt off from behind, popping your buttons, and exposing your breasts that were already spilling over your bra from his groping earlier.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, hoping to melt with him. You needed him closer. You needed his every being to get reacquainted with you. God, it's been so long.

His kiss was never-ending. He didn’t let you catch your breath, stealing your mouth every time you moved to inhale. His lips were so ravenous and demanding that it almost hurt. “…Loki…” you whined.

At long last, his fingers pulled your hair and brought your face up to meet his eyes. “You never do as you’re told, do you, darling? You never listen. Always worried about letting people inside.” His fist in your hair got tighter. His breath was hot and sweet; trying to hold back an emotion you had yet to work out. “Is that why you perfected your poker face? To hide the lies underneath?”

“What lies?!” you asked insulted and slightly afraid. “You lied to me! You used me just to play some game! Toying with me! Just entertainment for the night!” You tried to push him back, but his body was hard and unyielding. You pounded on his chest, trying to get away. But he trapped you in his arms and he wouldn’t let you go.

“You don’t listen! I have already told you, and yet you still pay no heed to my words! Do you even know how the last two weeks have been for me?” he said with a cold glare. “Torture! The moment you walked out of my bed, I started doubting myself. I started doubting you! I never thought you of all people would play me for a game like you do with your cards and tricks.”

He was furious! You had no idea how this would go, where Loki was going with his discourse. You knew Loki would never hurt you intentionally, but the look in his eyes was undoubtedly anger and pain. Not knowing terrified you and it also sent a thrill down your spine.

You had hurt him. You can see that now. He was affected as much as you were that night. You could see it in the unshed glimmer in his eyes. “You do care about me,” you realized.

“And what made you think I didn’t?” he demanded. His hold on you tightened. To be in his arms and to know that he was holding back so much of his godly strength. It hurt to almost breathe in his presence. But that was nothing compared to the guilt you felt inside. It hurt to know that you had assumed the worst of him and failed to communicate what you wanted. That you had missed out on two glorious weeks of being with him.

“You said you liked playing games. The way everything unfolded…I- I didn’t know what to think. I had no idea you even looked at me that way! And in mere hours I was splayed like a toy for you in your bed, Loki! What was I supposed to think?! How was I to know that I wasn’t just another conquest for you? That your confession was true?” you yelled back at him.

“Does this feel untrue to you!” he bucked his hips to yours, pushing you against his desk. You let out a carnal moan as you felt the length of him rub against your awaiting clit- throbbing to feel more of him, to be closer to him. The pyramid shook slightly behind you but remained standing. “Perhaps, you need a little reminder…” he growled as he kissed your lips boldly.

Blurring colors started to form and solidify in your head. Memories took shape as if they were tangible moving pictures.

~Loki growled. His fervor and desire ruling all rational thought. “I love that you’re intelligent,” he said as he flattened out his tongue and lapped the juices flowing from your cunt. “…Loki…” “I love how clever you are.” He said giving your sensitive clit a soft kiss. “I love how you’re willing to play my games.” He laughed as he kissed his way up your stomach. He knelt up on the bed, towering over your lustful figure beneath him. His eyes were wild taking in your heavy breathing, your glowing skin, and how utterly besotted you were when you looked at him. Your eyes were hooded and pleading, missing his tongue. Your mouth was open, ready to beg him to continue. “And by the Norns, you look absolutely sinful laying on my bed the way you are now.” He lined his hard cock at your entrance and slammed his way inside your tight folds.~

You felt him thrust towards your aching cunt, as if he was reliving the memory himself. The heavy force of his illusion pushed you back into reality. The house of cards gave way and fell behind you in one fell swoosh.

“You love me,” you whispered to yourself. Tears brimmed your lids as you looked at the truth in his eyes. The realization was heavy and thick; along with the guilt of invalidating his feelings.

Loki closed his eyes as he leaned in to rest his head on yours. He took a deep breath, relieved you had finally understood what he was trying to convey. Your fingers brushed through his silken hair, pulling him closer. Your lips apologized for you as you assailed his beautiful face with kisses. Softly, one after another. His fervid cheeks. His troubled eyes. His sharp chin. He felt each kiss as a prayer of penance asking for his forgiveness.

Your velvet lips turned into passionate kisses the more you held him. Loki returned your fervor with as much desire, if not more. How long has he waited for this? Dreamt of this? Wondering if he’d ever get the chance to kiss you again like this.

He had already granted you his pardon- earlier tonight when you had confessed that you imagined kissing him instead of Rogers. Perhaps even earlier than that, when you sat down on his lap and acknowledged his presence, finally, after weeks of disaffection. You had his forgiveness, but not his mercy.

“Loki, I need you. Please,” you begged. You started to unbutton his shirt, your fingernails nicking and scratching at his creamy skin in haste. “Make love to me,” you whined, wanting to compensate for lost time.

He licked his lips and savored your words. “Oh no, pet,” he chuckled darkly. “Only good girls get made love to...” Loki pushed your shoulders down, laying you on his desk. Your eyes widened in shock as your hair flowed around you, weaving with the cards of the fallen castle. He pulled your legs forward, bringing your hips flushed with his hard cock. “…Bad girls get fucked!”

You took a sharp intake of air as his words rattled your nerves. You heard the zip of his pants as his hands held you down on his desk. He nudged the wet gusset of your panties aside and guided the tip of his cock at your entrance. You moaned shamelessly when you felt him inside you for the first time in weeks.

He let out a shaky breath as he dragged himself up and down through your wet lips. Slowly teasing you, making you squirm with need. “…please…” you said so quietly you thought it was in your head. “…please, Loki…”

He gave into your cries. Into your begging; and thrust quickly inside you. You let out a vulgar moan at the sheer length of him filling you completely. Your knees squeezed around his hips as you tried to slow his assault. Your nails dug into the soft wood of his desk trying to hold on. “Stop resisting, my love. I thought this was what you wanted?” he grunted.

Your hands gripped his wrist that was holding down your shoulder. He gathered your skirt around your waist and used it as leverage to thrust deeper into you. “Just a little bit deeper…fuck…When I’m…when I’m done with you…I’ll make sure…you can’t walk in the morning…” he vowed. “So, you won’t leave my bed like you did that day.” His rage was palpable and cloying.

“…Loki…” you whined. But that only made him go harder. Faster.

You held the edge of the desk above you, trying to meet his passionate thrust with your own. Strands of your hair fell off to the sides. Your back arched, and you could feel the cards stick to the sweat of your skin.

“You like this, don’t you? Look how wet you are for me.” He watched as your sweet cum coated his shaft, making him groan. You could feel it dripping from you with each hard thrust of his cock. “Do you like it rough?”

“…fuck, Loki…please…”

“You’re enjoying this too much.” His hand moved from your shoulder up to your throat. He grabbed your chin in between his thumb and forefinger, “Next time, I’ll just fuck you in front of the team. So, they can see what a begging mess you become for me.”

And he was right. You are a mess. And you are enjoying this too much. You had always prided yourself in being a tough and independent person. But when it comes to Loki, you didn’t hesitate to be cuffed and barred. You didn’t fight it when he chased you. You wanted him to catch you. You wanted his dominance.

Loki bent to hover over you, pinning your hips down to his hard desk. “You are not to leave me. Ever. Do you understand?” his breath came out labored and grunting. “You can storm out angry. You can yell, scream, and fight. Hell, I prefer it. But you are never to leave without returning and talking about it afterward. Is that clear?” He thrust deep to mark his point. You moaned loudly into the stifling air. Your fingernails digging into his shoulders.

“Say it!” he thrust again, demanding an answer.

“yesyesyes…please Loki…I’m a-about to…” you squeezed tighter around him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.

“Come on then. Give it to me.” He demanded in your ear. You wrapped your ankles around his waist, keeping him locked to you. Loki stood back up, taking your wrist ad holding them down against his desk. You were trapped in between his corded arms. All you could see was the beautiful face of a god unraveling above you. His slanted brows and his gritted teeth, his deep voice grunting at the feel of your warmth around him.

You could feel the tight pull of his shaft against your walls when he dragged himself out and plunged back in. “Fuck baby, that’s it. Tighter. Come on.”

Your legs shook and you screamed his name one last time. Your orgasm pulses inside you, making every single part of you sensitive and euphoric. Loki followed soon after. His hips jutted forward with each grunt and spill of his climax inside you.

Loki bent over you again. He caged your head between his arms and kissed you softly on your swollen lips. Your hands roamed his back, feeling his powerful muscles contort and contract as he moaned above you. Your nails would scratch on his smooth skin whenever his cock twitched inside you. “Loki.”

Without breaking your kiss, he scooped you up from his desk and walked over to his bed. “…such a good girl for me, darling…” he whispered on your skin. “…taking me all in like that. Good fucking girl...” Your throat was hoarse and stung too much to answer anything above a sigh. His plush blankets welcomed you as he laid you down on top. “…and do you know what good girls get?”

You bit your lip to stop from giggling. Loki lined himself up with your entrance once again and pushed slowly. Your giggles turned into moans as he continued his rhythmic thrust against your heat.

“Look at me, darling,” he asked so sweetly. Your furrowed eyes caught his. “I love you,” he murmured. “I should’ve said it from the very beginning.” He continued at a tantric pace, keeping his stare at yours. You tightened around him and you got a more genuine feel for him. Every vein, every inch, pulling your moans from your lips and leaving you with nothing but the sensation of his love and adoration for you.

He looked deep into your eyes, and you could tell that he was close again. “I love you too,” you whispered. Loki let go. At the same time, your body releases itself into a climax. One of the strongest, and most powerful, ones you’ve ever felt.

His body sunk on top of yours. He was finally letting go of the weight and worry that he held these past weeks. And you welcomed it by holding him tighter against you.

You woke up the next morning, tender and stinging. The tiniest movement of your hips shot an aching soreness throughout your body. And you smiled. Your mind reeled at the memories of last night. After your shared confessions, Loki took you again in the shower, then on the floor, and then in the shower again. He fucked you in every conceivable space in his room. And then he would make love to every inch of your body afterward.

“Can you walk?” his voice was low and gravelly. The dredges of sleep have yet to release him from their grasp.

“Well, good morning to you too.” You playfully pushed him aside, pretending to be insulted. He laughed as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for a morning kiss.

“Good morning, my love…” he said with adoration. “…Can you walk?” he repeated. You rolled your eyes at him, smiling. You knew the answer before you even attempted to sit up and try to get off his bed.

Your hips felt out of place. Your thighs burned and screamed at being used again so soon after last night. And your feet could barely hold you up threatening to slip. “No, I can’t. Are you happy?”

Loki scooped you up making you yelp and grab hold of his shoulders. “Tremendously, so.” He said kissing you heatedly on your lips.

Nat sat in the conference room, reading Tony’s mission briefing from the night before. The rest of the team returned early last night and decided to join in on the movie. No one had noticed that you and Laufeyson were missing until Thor asked where his brother was. “They were both very tired. I think they might’ve gone to bed early,” Nat smirked.

And now, here she was watching the two of you come out of the bedroom hallways. A sudden giggle escapes from your lips. She looked over the paper and witnessed Laufeyson carrying you into the kitchen bridal style. “Put me down! I can walk now you know,” you whispered into his ear.

“Oh, darling. We both know I’m too good for that to wear off so quickly.”

“You pompous ass!”

“Yes, one that has your scratch marks all over it!” He gave you a quick peck on the lips, followed by his signature devious smirk. Loki pulled out one of the chairs and sat down with you on top of his lap.

Oh, this oughta be good! Nat neglected the rest of her work on the table and made her way over to the two of you. Loki had conjured a muffin and some coffee for you. While you sat on his lap feeding him grapes like he was Dionysus himself.

“You know, when I dared you to sit on his lap, I meant for the length of the movie,” Nat said coming up from behind you and sitting across the table. “Not indefinitely.”

“Your lovely friend here has been incapacitated, Agent Romanoff.” Loki smiled, nuzzling his nose against the smell of his shampoo in your hair. “I’m afraid she’ll need assistance from here on out. For the foreseeable future.”

“Stop it!” you chided him.

“Make me,” he teased.

⬅️ Truth or Dare | Hide and Seek (Coming Soon) ➡️

A/N: I guess I wasn't ready to let go of these two yet. This series wasn't supposed to have any major angst or plot. It was just supposed to be a collection of these two characters playing random "adult" games. So, I will try to get back to that thought and update whenever I think of something for them to do 😉.

🏷️ @emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @psychospore @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallow @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @immersed-in-mischief @joyful-enchantress @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @melsunshine-blog @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokischambermaid @cjand10 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @chrisevansmaindish @capswife @dangertoozmanykids101

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redfoxwritesstuff · 4 months

Text

Threads

Summary: Loki, sitting on his throne of time struggles with the temptation of looking back at what he could have had and what he had discarded in his youth.

Merry Christmas? Look, I'm sorry- This is a gateway to something that may or may not become a series- idk. I'm fuckin tired.

Warnings: None? A bit angsty I guess.

Threads

Loki sat in a sea of green threads in the vast nothing. Time stretched out all around him, a ocean of emptiness that contained everything. There was nothing but silence and yet if he closed his eyes, he could hear everything.

He didn’t have to stay here but there was no where else he belonged. His own timeline had been destroyed before he had made it here. There was nothing to go back to.

Reaching out, he plucked a string from the air. It wasn’t the first time he had done so and it surely wouldn’t be the last time. This thread he looked at often because she was in it.

It had been centuries since he had thought about her and then, when everything stopped, he didn’t have anything else to think about but her.

Long ago, when he was young he had cared for a woman with hair the color of the embers of a forgotten fire and a smile that was brighter than the sun. He had cared for her with all the fire of a raging inferno and that terrified him.

He was young then, they both were. They had an entanglement that had lasted for what felt too long at the time. He was a prince and she was a blacksmith’s daughter. He should have never cared for her but he did.

Looking down the thread, he could see a version of him laying on a bed of hay with her tucked against his chest. The Loki he was looking at was so much younger than the man he was now.

This Loki would make the same mistakes he had, Loki had watched this story play out time and time again. Still, he couldn’t help but to gaze at the lovers in the thread passing a forbidden night after making love all evening.

Letting the thread slip through his fingers, the lovers were replaced by her broken heart as she screamed her rage for the world to hear. He had done that to her. The Loki standing before her in the thread was cool and collected.

Loki knew that her scream had cut his heart like no blade would ever again. She would never find out that he broke her heart not out of selfishness but to protect her. Sitting on his throne in a sea of threads, Loki couldn’t begin to justify why he hadn’t told her.

Instead he just ripped her heart out and spat on the shattered remains. And for what? Because he was scared? Because she wasn’t fit for court life?

He told her that he didn’t care about her, that it was a game to him but that was a lie. He did care. He cared so damn much.

More thread passed through his fingers. How often had he done this? Time moved differently here, outside the threads of time themselves.

Now he saw her standing in a gown and furs. A man who was not him stood in front of her and their hands were joined. This was the part of the timeline that hurt him the most, yet he always returned to it.

She had waited for him, tried to change his mind for some time and he had spent years of their youth acting indifferent to her. Only once he had gone from Asgard did she move on, ever so slowly.

But he still cared for her. He still fucking cared so goddamn much that every time he watched her marry another man was a stab in the heart. He had nothing else to do however, but pick at ever wound that had scabbed over and begun to heal.

Letting go of the thread, he watched as it floated back into place like he had done many times before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Tag list: *I nuked my tag lists since I've been gone for years. Starting fresh, let me know if you want on this flaming dumpster ride.

#loki x ofc #loki x oc #loki x reader #loki x you #loki fanfic #loki x original female character #loki fanfiction #loki x original character

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vbecker10 · 2 years

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please please please, could you make write loki one shot with pure angst, like heart-aching angst, maybe guilt feelings or something, with minor comfort in the end. my life had been numb lately, I need to feel something. (and would you mind if you put me in your loki taglist, I would really appreciate it if you did 🙏)

Hey @lokidbadguy! I'm sorry you're feeling like this, I hope this helps. I tried to make it as angsty as possible.

You Don't Trust Me?

Pairing: Loki x female reader

Warnings: arguing, angst, feelings of guilt, controlling boyfriend, accusations of cheating, fighting, no happy ending

Summary: Loki is furious when he finds out you are still hanging out with Bucky despite him telling you he didn't want you to. You push back, telling him he can't control who you speak to which leads to a heated argument and Loki saying something he will regret. He tries to apologize that night but when he finds you, you aren't alone.

"I told you, I do not want you alone with him," Loki says loudly as he slams the door to his apartment.

You walk to the middle of his living area, then turn to face him with your arms crossed. Loki was furious after finding you watching a movie in the common area with Bucky.

"You can't tell me who I can and can't be friends with," you argue back. He walks towards you angrily but you don't move, for better or worse you've decided this is the last time you are having this argument with Loki.

"Why can't you just do this one thing that I ask of you?" Loki demands to know.

"Because you never asked, you ordered," you say back and he rolls his eyes. "I'm not some servant in the palace that you can just give commands to. I'm your girlfriend Loki."

"Are you sure you would not prefer to be his girlfriend?" he asks in a harsh tone and you feel like screaming.

"Ugh! We've been over this a dozen times, Bucky and I are just friends," you tell him. "We went on one date over a year ago. I didn't even know you then," you remind him.

"I've seen the way he looks at you, the way he makes excuses to touch you," he says as he stands directly in front of you. "He wants to be more than your friend, Y/N, and you are a fool to keep pretending otherwise," he adds.

"Don't call me a fool," you say angrily.

"Then do not act like one," he counters.

"I'm not!" you say loudly. "It's not my fault you don't know what it's like to have friends," you say and Loki clenches his jaw.

He takes a step back and steadies himself with a deep breath before he says, "I will say this one last time Y/N... you can have friends but I do not want you to spend time alone with Barnes."

You put your hands over your face in frustration and sit heavily on the couch. You fight back tears but you can't let the argument end here. You need Loki to understand that your friendship with Bucky wasn't a threat to him.

You look up, wiping your eyes and see him walking towards his bedroom. "Loki..." you say, your voice breaking. He pauses at his doorway, one hand gripping the door frame. He doesn't turn to face you but he stands there, waiting for you to continue.

"We've been together almost 9 months and we've had this argument so many times," you say, he still doesn't turn but you can see him nod in agreement.

You stand up and play with your fingers nervously. "Loki, listen to me, please," you plead and he looks at you over his shoulder before finally turning to face you.

"Bucky is just a friend, nothing more. He isn't interested in me and even if he was it wouldn't matter to me. I don't want to be with him or anyone else," you tell him, walking slowly towards him as he keeps his eyes on you.

You take a deep breath and say, "I love you, Loki. I would never cheat on you or betray you. I don't want to ever hurt you..." you wipe away your tears again and ask, "Don't you trust me?"

Without a moments hesitation Loki answers, "No."

"No...?" you ask, taking a step backwards in shock. He looks away from you and you can feel your heart breaking in an instant. "You don't... you don't trust me?"

He turns away from you, walks into his bedroom and closes the door without another word. Unable to move, you stand in the middle of his living area, feeling your tears flowing freely down your cheeks. Your world has just been shattered by one word but you refuse to believe that's true.

You slowly take a step forward then another and another until you are inches from his door. You knock lightly and say, "Loki, please," but there is no answer.

You take a step back then close your eyes tightly as you come to the realization that your relationship is over.

You walk through the living area, pausing for a moment when you see a picture on the end table. You pick up the photo of you and Loki smiling, he stands behind you with his arms wrapped around your waist. You touch the picture lightly, remembering that day at the boardwalk several months ago.

You had spent all day there, showing him the boardwalk games and all the different types of food. When the sun began to set, you went down to the beach and walked along the water. You felt him watching you as you looked up at the full moon and when you looked back at him he smiled. He pulled you close to him, one hand on your lower back as his other hand stroked your cheek lightly. He leaned down and kissed you softly before telling you he loved you for the first time.

You could still feel his arms holding you and it was suddenly too much. How could this be how it ends, you think to yourself. How could Loki say he loved you if he never trusted you? You had never done anything to break his trust, you were always honest and faithful to him. Your sadness begins to mix with anger as you throw the picture frame against the wall.

You walk quickly from the apartment and slam the door shut.

"Y/N, what happened?" Bucky asks as he opens his door. You are unable to answer him as you cry uncontrollably.

"Come in," he urges, taking a step back so you can enter. You walk in and take a seat on the end of his couch. You pick up one of his pillows and hold it against yourself tightly, burying your face in it.

"Y/N, what's wrong? Did Loki... did he hurt you?" he asks, his voice full of worry. The last time Bucky had seen you, Loki had demanded you go with him to his apartment.

You shake your head no but you still can't answer him. He sits next to you, putting his metal arm around you. "Take a deep breath and tell me what happened," he says in a calm voice.

You nod then close your eyes, taking a deep breath. You slowly tell Bucky about the fight you and Loki had and he listens in silence.

"I'm so sorry Y/N," he says when you finish.

"Its not your fault," you say quietly as he hands you a tissue.

"It feels like it is. I didn't want to come between you and Loki, I know how much you love him," he says and you know he means it.

"I think you were just his excuse," you tell him. Before you can tell him what you mean there is a loud knock on his door and you know exactly who it is.

You shake your head and hold the pillow tighter. Bucky gets up to answer the door, opening it only half way.

"Is she here?" Loki asks and Bucky doesn't answer. "She's not in her room, I just want to make sure she's alright," he says and you hear the concern in his voice.

"She's not alright," Bucky says without moving from the doorway. He crosses his arms, "You should leave, she doesn't want to talk to you."

"I need to speak with her," Loki says, his voice lower this time.

"I told you, she doesn't want to talk to you," he repeats.

There is a pause then you hear Loki say, "Please Barnes, I just need a moment. I don't want to lose her."

Bucky turns towards you as if asking if he should let Loki in. You wipe your eyes and nod. Bucky takes a step back and let's Loki into his apartment before closing the door. Bucky sits next to you protectively and Loki stands in front of you. He doesn't look at you, he keeps his eyes fixed on the floor in front of him while he fidgets with his fingers.

He stands there silently and it takes everything in you not to jump off the couch and hug him. You want to forgive him and tell him you love him but you keep hearing the word 'no' echo in your mind. He doesn't trust you, your mind says over and over.

You sit up, keeping the pillow on your lap and you say, "You wanted to talk... fine. I'll go first."

He nods quietly, waiting for you to speak.

"You don't love me Loki," you say and he looks up slowly, his eyes full of tears. He shakes his head and take a step towards you. "How could you possibly love me if you can't trust me?"

"Y/N..." he says and you can see how hurt he is. "I do love you, more than anything but I... everyone I have ever trusted lied to me and betrayed me."

"But I never did," you tell him as you stand up. "The only thing I did was refuse to let you ruin a friendship I've had for three years because of one date before you and I met."

Loki looks from you to Bucky and back to you. "I know..." he says, "I know that I should have trusted you. I never meant to push you away from me this way. I was afraid you would leave me and now you will."

You stand in front of Loki and gently take one of his hands in yours. He wipes away the tears running down your cheek. "Loki," you say quietly. "I don't want to end this but... I can't be with someone who doesn't trust me."

He shakes his head and you feel your heart breaking all over again. "I love you and I don't want to hurt you, I never wanted to hurt you," you tell him.

"Please don't do this," Loki says, you can hear his voice shaking.

You let go of his hands and take a step back, "You did this Loki."

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loki-cees-all · 4 months

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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

✦ ─── ⊹ ─── • ° • ─ ☽ ─ • ° • ─── ⊹ ─── ✦

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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