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lokiinmediasideblog · 10 months

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Because I'm Bored:

Where do I rank in terms of MCU Loki Apologism?

Things I think Loki was justified in doing:

1. Killing Laufey-For all he knows, this was the man that abandoned him to die from exposure. This is revenge in its purest form and ALSO a way to show his loyalty to Asgard and Odin. And based on the original script, Loki was illegitimate and an unwanted runt abandoned to die (I also think he is not fully Jotun, and I think this played into WHY he was abandoned).

2.Lying to Thor about Odin’s death and his banishment-Loki just discovered he is a Frost Giant, like the ones Thor swore to kill, has been shown to have killed at the slightest provocation, and Asgard thinks of as monsters. Making sure Thor does not return is self-preservation. As a closeted person, I find the idea that Loki should have told Thor or known he would understand, ridiculous.Have you all not heard of living situations with bigoted relatives with a history of violence?

3. Nearly killing Thor with the Destroyer-Notice his previous attempt to keep Thor away did not involve violence and would have sufficed if Thor’s friends had not interfered… Say you have a brother that hates people like you, with a history of violent behavior towards people like you, and with the ability to fry the fuck out of you or smash you into puree with his magic hammer. Would you like to have that brother around?

4. Impersonating Odin and sending Odin to a retirement home-It’s self-preservation. Frigga’s no longer there to plead for his life. And I find it hilarious he was the only one to give Odin a taste of his own medicine. GOOD FOR HER! And how the fuck would he have known about Hela? Odin had been able to break through Loki’s magic, but he just decided to chill on Earth for some reason, and dump Hela’s existence on them.

By the way, I saw an interesting theory that Odin remained on Earth to strand Hela on Midgard so that she’d lay waste to Midgard instead of Asgard, but Loki calling the Bifrost changed that, ironically saving Earth and dooming Asgard. Technically, that would mean Loki unknowingly doomed Asgard, but I am not mad. How much like Odin to shuck his problems away for others to deal with.

5.Escaping from the TVA the first chance he gets. Self-preservation.

6. Being the Villain. Technically, that’s the TVA’s fault. They’ve pruned Lokis whenever they veer away from their ordained path. LOL I feel like Villain PR saying this and I am laughing my ass off. And although it’s for shits and giggles, it’s technically true in the MCU?

Loki’s not justified in:

1. Letting the Jotuns in for shits and giggles. I have seen way to many people claim it’s because he cared for Asgard, and that’s bullshit. He was jealous of Thor and he has no qualms sacrificing others (like the handful of dead guards and Jotuns) to fulfill his plans.

2.Attempted genocide of Jotunheim. Self-explanatory. He was only wronged by one Jotun, not the entire realm, and even if the entire realm had wronged him, genocide is NEVER a warranted option.

3. Cutting Sif’s hair. That’s just unnecessarily cruel. I headcannon he likes to sabotage relationships.

4. The attempted betrayal at Sakaar. Not sure what was going on through his head at that point. I think he got angry because Thor compared him to Sakaar, which he actually hates, and seemed to have given up on him. Or does he think keeping Thor and himself on Sakaar will keep them safer because they won’t confront Hela? I will go with a bit of both. I could DEFINITELY go into Villain PR mode and argue he was justified in trying to keep Thor “safe” in Sakaar because the Revengers didn’t really have a plan other than “go back to Asgard and try to fight Hela and die trying”. But I still don’t personally think it was “justified.”

5. Stabbing Thor. I just included it because it’s not justified based on context, since it came out of nowhere. But I would not use it to condemn how “Evil” Loki has ALWAYS BEEN in those posts complaining about Loki’s woobification. I would need more context on how grave an injury that would be for Asgardians. Is it some typical childhood game/fights wound? Asgardians survive being Hulk smashed, the void, impaled, and a freaking Neutron star. A stab seems like a slap in comparison. It has the same level of justification as slapping your sibling in the face when you were a kid. Unjustified, but not a big deal.

Things I am on the fence about:

1. Whatever the fuck happened for him to end up with Thanos. It’s unclear how much was him and how much was the mind stone, coercion, or some other kind of mindfuckery (there are altered memories (being yeeted by Thor into the Void rather than letting go) and that scene with the Other implying threats, past torture, psychic pain, or future torture). I think he wasn’t exactly innocent nor entirely willing. I think he saw Earth as his brother’s ant farm that he will fuck around with out of revenge, he approached Thanos willingly, but then the Black Order gained too much leverage and control on him, and the situation snowballed out of his control into an avalanche.

Another head-cannon I have is that Loki actually died in the void, but was brought back from Hel. He was willing to do anything to avoid returning there, and it’s why he made sure to try to die in battle in TDW and IW. The need to avoid Hel cultivated a fucked up sense of gratefulness and vulnerability that was exploited by the Black Order (maybe I will write it sometime). I think this because him and Thanos talk too much about resurrections and dying multiple times. Either of my Head cannons imply threats and therefore coercion, even if the Word-Of-God mind stone influence is not involved. But we also don’t know the how and why Loki ended up with Thanos.

2. I don’t think I can blame him for Frigga’s death. I know he blames himself, and he definitely had some malicious intent when giving directions (not towards Frigga). Giving someone the directions to the stairs shouldn’t exactly change much? It’s not like he plotted with the Dark Elves and disabled Asgard’s defenses. The elves were tracking the Aether and would have found it eventually, and Frigga was protecting Jane and willing to sacrifice herself for Jane. Frigga’s death is more on Jane for being reckless and fucking around with unknown phenomena without a scrap of PPE or caution, becoming a mcguffin for the film’s entirety. Jane has the common sense of white people from horror movies. Woman has no braincells. There, I fucking said it.

3. I don’t know how to feel about the opening scene in IW and I hate it. I just think it was a terrible plan and a waste of character development. And we don’t even know if it had any significant positive effects. It was both self-sacrificial and selfish nonetheless. Did it keep Thanos from killing more Asgardians? Did it only save Thor, and was that the only thing Loki cared about? If so, Loki sacrificed the entire universe for his brother. Very in-character, but it was a waste of sacred timeline Loki.

Things other people were justified in:

1. Heimdall being suspicious of Loki and attempting to behead Loki as the king regent. Heimdall was suspicious of the blind spots in his vision. Who can hide from him? Loki. And then he caught Loki quite red-handed.

2. I don’t know why Thor gets so much shit for not knowing what’s up with Loki in Avengers, and I doubt he could help him or that Loki thinks he would or could help him in the first place.

3. The Hulk giving him the ragdoll treatment. It’s hilarious and the best part of the movie. And I mean, he did wreak havoc in NYC.

4. Thor electrocuting Loki in Ragnarok. Loki was about to betray Thor. And again, they are pretty hardy. Loki survived the Hulk, the void, and impalement. Enough said. Could this have ended horribly for Loki? Of course and there are wonderful DEAD DOVE fics about it.

5. Sylvie being angry after he broke the Tempad and got drunk. Self-explanatory. How the fuck does this ever get called “abusive”? They both could have died because of Loki's tomfoolery.

6. Sylvie killing HWR and sending Loki away. It was not “abusive”, she’s barely known Loki for IDK how long. Compare that to having a goal for millenia. And she sent him away because she didn’t want to kill him.

7. Sif kicking him ONCE like it happened in the original timeline because he cut her hair. Self explanatory, and kinda eye for an eye. But what the TVA did was just cruel and unnecessary (and basically torture).

LET ME KNOW IF I MISSED ANY MISDEEDS

#mcu!loki #mcu!thor #mcu!odin #mcu!heimdall #MCU #mcu!sylvie #mcu!jane #mcu!sif #mcu!thanos #mcu!frigga #my loki apologism #mcu!hela #mcu!hulk #mcu!laufey #hot takes

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

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Stuck in the Middle

Sequel to All in the Family

Warnings: this fic includes noncon/rape, age gap, cheating, cutting, blood, boring sex, fuckboy energy.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your return to campus brings some unexpected changes.

Characters: silverfox!Loki, glimpses of Heimdall, shades of Victor Shade (Vision)

Note: Well, I decided to get messy so expect at least a third part.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Mario loves pipes. Take care. 💖

"Has anyone been to the Nornheim Museum?" The professor asks as he pokes his slender glasses up his nose.

You're of the few to murmur and raise your hand in affirmation. You shift in your seat, leaning your elbow heavy on the foldout desk as the memories tingle in your core.

"Not many have this privilege, darling," Loki's long finger tapped on the glass above the forged buckle, "it is said to have belonged to the great Ragnar but often those of the same name are confused for one another and few names were rare in those days."

The echo of his voice in your head distracts your from the lesson as the slide flips and you sink down in your chair, crossing a leg over the other as you fight the other memories. The tickle of wandering fingers and intonation of less informative words in your ear. The way Loki strode confidently in the barren museum as if luring you into his maze of tricks and traps.

'It is a pity my son was too enamoured with his video games to join us,' Loki nudged his office door open, his name etched into the golden placard mounted on the wood, 'he surely is missing out, though he never does seem to see the whole picture.'

You sniff and tap your pen on the desk. You squeeze your thighs together and push the end to your lips, biting down as your skin spatters with heat.

'Darling,' his words rumbled against your thigh as you lay across his desk, your jeans on the floor and your sweat pushed above your chest. 'Mm, I have been thinking of the taste of you and nothing else.'

His teeth clasped around the top pf your panties and he urged them down slowly with a snarl. You quivered as he dragged them lower, hands on your knees as he felt your flesh cloyingly. You moaned as your body responded, as the warmth seeped in anticipation.

"...I recommend you invest in this trip, it will be vital to much of this course and invaluable to you as an aspiring historian…" the dull voice of the lecturer drones on.

You gripped the sides of desk, knuckles aching as you curled your fingers tighter with each thrust. Your legs stretched up Loki's torso, your feet at his shoulders as he kneaded your thighs and he stared at the way he slid in and out, the wet noises filling his office. You admired the grey hairs along his chest, curly and soft.

'Touch yourself,' he puffed, 'let me see what makes you cum.'

You were quick to obey, fingers gliding easily along your wet cunt and flicking around your clit. You pushed an elbow into the wood and raised yourself as you arched your spine and whined. He did not let up as he kept his motion rampant.

'A creature like you should never be so neglected,' he bent his head to kiss the top of your foot, his rhythm turning rough and ragged, 'cum for me, darling, for you have me at the cusp.'

You clear your throat and shrug off the thoughts though they tug at the nape of your neck. You need to focus. That was a mistake. Regrettable. Messy.

You lean your chin and your hand and make yourself focus on the image projected across the front of the lecture hall. That's what youth is for, isn't it? Mistakes.

Another hour slogs by as you fight the holiday hangover. Finally free from the introductory monologue, you pack up and slip your phone free from the side pocket of your bag. You drag your feet down the centre aisle as you light up the screen with your thumb.

Finn, again. He didn't take the news well. It was the only thing you could do. Breaking up was inevitable. You just didn't mesh. And his father…

No, that didn't happen. Nor will it happen again. By cutting ties with Finn, you'll make sure of it.

You ignore his messages and swipe away the missed calls. You know he's a man baby but this is a bit much. He didn't care before, not when you were fucking. He reminded you constantly how much better he could do, well so could you.

The winter perseveres into the new year, hardly making for a fresh start as the snow is stained grey with dirt. Your boots crunch along the pathway across the campus courtyard and you send up a cloud of breath into the crisp air. The library furnace chugs a steady billow of smoke into the sky and adds to the mid-afternoon dim.

You shuffle into the lobby of your building with the beep of your fob and the door catches behind you. You don't think much of it, assuming it's another resident as you cross the floor littered with slush and water dripped off of boots. You're pulled back by your arm before you can reach the stairs.

"You think you can just ignore me?" Finn spins you to hit the wall and you let out a low oomph.

"What the fuck–"

He startles you as he slaps the wall on either side of your head and looms over you, "you won't even give me a chance. We could talk this out, babe."

"Finn, please, it wouldn't have worked out, we're just too different."

"That's what makes it work," he pouts, "please–"

"Don't act like it was more than it was. I shouldn't have agreed to go all the way to Jotun with you."

"Then why did you?"

"Because… I don't know."

"What changed?"

"Nothing," you take a breath, "it was never that good to begin with. Please, Finn, go to a party, find another girl."

"I want to know why," he snarls and leans in, "tell me."

Your throat constricts. You could tell him. You could confess. No, that's stupid because you forgot. It didn't happen. It can't have happened. His parents are married and you and him are done.

"Just… you really want to know?"

"I have to know," he balls his right hand hits the wall, "how can someone like you dump me?"

You frown at the backhanded question and shake your head, "the sex was awful and dry.

He snorts and pushes away from you, pivoting on his heel as he laughs, "sure, and you were all that."

"Finn, let it go. It was two months–"

"You're lying. The sex was great," he rambles as he prowls back and forth in front of you, "so there's something else. Or… someone else."

You clamp your lips guiltily and fight to keep your cool, "no, just you. Finn, you spent the whole visit with other people. Let's not make it more than it was."

He rolls his eyes and screeches to halt as he faces you, "fine, I'll go hit up Samantha. She always was a good time. You know–" he points a finger in your face as he steps closer, "she tried to fuck me at her little birthday bash and I said no. For you."

You glower and look at the door, "so what? You've obviously been thinking of it ever since. You're free, go fuck Samantha."

“You don’t mean that,” he whines.

You flick your eyes in his direction and he scowls. Your face says it all. He curls his lip and kicks his foot over the floor in frustration.

“You always were so fucking stubborn,” he snaps and stomps to the door, “have fun. Alone.”

He swings open the door and storms into the lobby, the door falling heavy behind him. You flinch and part from the wall as you shake off the encounter. Being alone can’t be so bad if he’s the alternative.

🐍

“I see Finn is pulling out all the stops,” Neve remarks as you blindly wander into the front room, rubbing your eyes with the fraying cuffs of the oversized sweatshirt.

“What–” You cross your arms in the chill of the dorm and check the window. It’s closed, “why is it so goddamn cold?”

“Apparently, the water heater is broke for this entire block,” she shrugs and you notice the layers of turtleneck, hoodie, and robe around her, “lucky us.”

“Fuck,” you sneer, “just what we needed.”

“Not like the water ever gets hot anyway,” she says as she scrolls on her phone, sipping from a tall porcelain mug, “whatever, you got a surprise in the kitchen.”

“Surprise?” You shiver and drag your feet across the cramped front room and enter the boxy kitchen with its half-sized appliances.

A plinthed vase with two branches of orchids stands on the only counter space left, the white petals tipped with a deep purple. Flowers? Really? Not what you expect from your ex, especially after your last conversation. It makes you wonder if he did fuck Samantha after all. Is this guilty planted in stone?

There’s a card perched on a plastic stick dug into the dirt. You’re ready to tear it up already. Two months and now he cares. You don’t think for a moment that some flowers will cure his selfishness. You take the envelope and tear the flap carelessly. You slip the card up and flip it open.

‘Thinking of you, L.’

Ohhhhh.

Oh.

Shit.

“So, you gonna forgive him?” Neve frightens you as she shuffles in and brushes by to rinse her coffee cup.

“Um,” you quickly push the card back in the envelope and hide it up your sleeve, “I don’t think so.”

“They’re pretty flowers. Didn’t think he had taste beyond labels.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t,” you scoff, “I’ll get these out of the way.”

“Still, I’ve never had anyone send me flowers. Guess girls don’t work like that,” she chuckles, “not the ones I’ve dated, at least.”

You give a small snort as you lift the vase and nearly drop it. It’s heavier than you expect. You carry it back into your room and push an empty container out of the way to set it on your dresser. You really need to start throwing away your shit.

You grab the empty cardboard and the half-finished cup of soda and go to dump it out in the kitchen. Never hovers in the front room, her slippers scuffing on the floor as she chatters.

“I was gonna take a shower,” she bemoan as she rubs her hands together, “fuck this building.”

“Did you talk to the building manager?”

“I talked to Ariel across the hall. She called. Maintenance is three days out.”

“What? Three days?”

“I guess that’s what we get for being poor as fuck,” she scoffs, “not the first time I’ve had a cold shower.”

“Me either,” you resign as another shiver crawls up your back.

“Well… you could call Finn, go on the rebound for a few days and get us access to that nice condo shower–”

“No,” you huff and she laughs at your scrunched expression.

“I’m kidding, but a girl can dream,” she chimes.

“I got class,” you grumble.

“I’ll probably chill at the library, they always got the heat cranked to hellfire.”

“Good idea, I’ll meet you there after,” you turn on your heel as the envelope chafes in your sleeve, “fuck, things just keep getting better, don’t they?”

🐍

Professor Shade nods at another student as you wait anxiously. Two weeks into classes and you feel as if you’re running from behind already. You step up when the path is clear, your nerves pinging off each other. Talking about money is never an enjoyable experience.

“Professor,” you say as he gathers up the pile of proposals handed in at the beginning of class. He glances at you with pale blue eyes as you shift on your feet.

“Yes?” He says evenly. His mood is always placid, always measured, and entirely hard to read. You can’t tell if he’s bothered or interested.

“About the trip to Jotun, um, my work study was only just confirmed so I won’t have the money by next class. I can bring a deposit though–”

“Very well,” he agrees easily, “I’m no debt collector.” He stands straight, the silver woven into his yellow hair catching the bright lights of the lecture hall, “As long as you can have it all by the day of.”

“Alright,” you say with a sigh of relief, “thanks, professor.”

You smile and turn to scurry away, “I believe you are of the few who’ve seen Nornheim before?”

You pause and face him again, “yes, I went… last month. Over the holiday.”

“Ah, it must’ve been busy.”

Your neck burns as you swallow, “um, yeah, not too bad.”

“Are you from Jotun then? Visiting family?”

Despite his words, you find it hard to gauge his interest as his tone remains unaffected.

“Yeah,” you lie, well, not entirely.

“And did you enjoy the museum?”

“Yeah, it was nice,” you say as you struggle to recall any of the actual displays. You were too distracted.

“They are opening a special exhibit on Norse mythos for our visit, we’ll be there upon the first day,” he explains as he shoves away the papers in his bag, “so it won’t be all old hat to you.”

“Great,” you say sheepishly, “sorry, I gotta go. My work study–”

“Ah, yes, good luck, where is it?”

“The library,” you answer breezily.

“Oh, very good. When I was your age, I ended up in the Economic office. What a miserable plight that was.” He shoulders his bag, “anyhow, I’ll let you go.”

“Thanks, professor,” you force a smile and quickly flit out behind the last of the stragglers.

You button up your coat and wind your scarf around your neck as you head out into the crisp winter welcome. You carefully plod down the icy steps and your boots crack through the already shattered sheets across the campus pathway. The library bustles with activity as you approach, the cafe visible through the front windows is crowded with bodies waiting for their warm treats.

You push inside through one of several heavy doors and pull out your student card to scan through the gates into the main floor. You dust off your shoulders and head to the counter where a librarian works at filling a cart with returns. You pick at the edge of your pocket as you clear your throat.

“Excuse me, um, I’m a work-study student.”

She peeks over at you through her thick lenses, “which one?”

“Uh,” you give your name, “I’m supposed to be working with–”

“Heimdall,” she finishes for you, “so not mine.”

“Yeah, that’s right, I… where would I find him.”

“Well, you’re working in a library, you’ll have to figure out how to find things, won’t you?” She says tersely as she continues her labour, “they always send me the worst…” she mutters, “always late.”

You bite your lip and frown. How in the heck are you supposed to find your supervisor? You can’t just walk behind the desk. Are you just supposed to stand her and hover like a moth?

“Lorelai,” a deep voice underlines the silence of the library, “must you be so adverse?”

You glance over as a man with bright hazel eyes appears from around the other end of the desk. His irises almost look golden as they reflect the lights above. He is tall with straight shoulders and a calm gait. His dark hair is marked with a single streak of silver.

“Heimdall, you must be…” he introduces himself as he lifts the door of the desk and steps through, “early. Good start.”

“Oh, hi,” you say as he keeps the door up on its hinges.

“First thing, let’s get your stuff away,” he gestures to the bag bulging against your hip, “then we’ll have a tour.”

“Oh, sure, thanks.”

“Try not to track that muck everywhere,” Lorelai warns.

“Ignore her. Bad break up,” he beckons you through and follows you, directing you away from the prickly woman.

“Her? I can’t imagine why,” you say under your breath. He chuckles and you regret the careless comment.

“Complicated, I hear,” he remarks, “right, in my office here.” He points you into a doorway, “coat racks in the corner, I’ll be out here.”

You step into the office, the scent of sandalwood laced with vanilla greets you warmly. A desk lamp glows amber over an open book and a deep red carpet sprawls over the worn wooden floor. It’s cozy and makes you want to linger. Despite the maintenance coming in every other day, the heat in your apartment still lingers between entirely kaput and boiling hot. You could spend a week here, nice and warm.

You hang your coat on the rack beside a dark brown coat with a blue scarf slung over it. You leave your bag at the base and reluctantly retreat. Heimdall stands at the desk, scribbling on a scrap of paper before handing it over to a student. He gives a nod as the freshman blinks up at him and slowly leaves. He is rather intimidating.

“Lorelai, how about we do the returns so I can show her around?” Heimdall turns to his coworker coolly.

“And what about me?” She whines.

“When do you ever leave the desk?” He challenges smoothly and she winces.

“Yes, I suppose, Heim,” she quickly backs down, “damn kid is late anyhow.”

“It’s not even five yet. He’s not late, you’re just impatient.”

Heimdall gets behind the cart as Lorelai backs away with a scowl. You hurry forward to lift the door for him and he thanks you as he rolls through. You follow at his heels, though he keeps his pace slow but steady.

“Don’t let her bother you. It’s just her nature,” he says, “truly, nothing is so complicated here.”

“Yeah, no worries,” you say.

“Just do your work, listen, be helpful where you can,” he says as he leans on the cart, somehow even hunching he seems massive, “and never hesitate to ask questions.”

“Sounds good,” you turn your hands out plaintively.

“Oh, and feel free to use the kettle in my office, the one in the breakroom is dangerous.”

“Er, alright,” you say lightly, “thanks.”

“Right, now, here’s your first lesson, from our pleasant Lorelai, don’t do this,” he turns to cart and points along the spine, “the easiest thing to do I find is to follow the decimal system. You want to arrange these…” he starts moving books and shifting the rows, “so that as you’re putting them back, you’re not going back and forth.”

“Makes sense,” you nod as you watch him.

He steps back and looks at you, “why don’t you finish this and we’ll see how you do?”

“Right,” you step forward, “sure thing.”

🐍

You take your tea latte off the counter and barely save it from being splashed across your coat as you stop short of the body behind you.

“I heard you were working in here now,” Samantha trills as she sweeps her fingers through a bouncy blonde wave, “good idea since you dropped Finn, I guess.”

“Hmm, hi Sam, what’s up?” You blow over the lid and sidle out of the way of another waiting customer.

“Oh, you know, same as usual,” she gives a trite smirk.

“Mhmm,” you’re put off by her tone and abrupt greeting. Her name is called and she takes her latte with a derisive flick of her lashes, “so,” she moves with you as you try to avoid blocking others from the order shelf, “this is what you’ve been doing? Counting books?”

“Well, uh–”

“You really hurt Finn.”

You frown and swallow back confusion, “yeah, we broke up after Christmas. Just wasn’t working–”

“Oh, I heard all about it,” she sneers, “he doesn’t shut up about you.”

“I don’t– did I do something wrong?”

“Well, let’s start with you dating him. You knew I was into him.”

“No, I didn’t,” you tilt your head.

“Come on, you knew,” she whines.

“You never said anything–”

“Don’t act so stupid,” she huffs, “now he won’t stop going on about you. About what you did to him.”

“Well I’m sorry but I can’t do anything about that. I broke up with him. It’s done. If he won’t let go–”

“You cheated on him. That’s disgusting.”

“What…” you wince, “what do you mean?”

“He told me. He said there’s no other reason for you to break up with him. And we both know how much he talks in bed. So who was it?”

You give a look of revulsion and shake your head, “you’re getting one side of the story, alright? We dated for two months, it’s not that dee–”

You step back as she raises her cup but not quick enough as she dumps it over your head. The foam and hot coffee soaks through your hair and waterfalls down your shoulders and chest. You barely keep hold of your own cup as you gape and exclaim at the nip of heat that scalds the nap of your neck.

“What the fuck–”

“You really fucked him up and now I have to pick up the pieces,” she snarls and throws the cup in your face, “I always knew you were trash.”

You hold out your arms as you drip with espresso and the foam melts into your hair and coat. She shoulders past you and marches out on her heeled boots. You turn and a dozen other students stare back, some laughing, some whispering about the scene.

Horrified, you put your drink on the counter full of sweetener and dairy and take a handful of napkins. You leave the cup and rush out as you try futilely to dry yourself off with the three-ply. You’ll just go home and call Heimdall to let him know–

Too late. You hear your name as you try to rush by the end of the desk that overlooks the front lobby. You stop and cringe before you force yourself to run back. You near as you pat your face with the napkins.

“Um, yeah, I was gonna call and say–”

“What happened to you?” He asks.

“Just… ran into someone by accident,” you lie.

“Yeah, looks like quite the accident.”

“I should probably run and get changed,” you say, “I’m sorry.”

“Sure, probably,” he says, “if you don’t feel up to coming back tonight, I won’t dock the hours.”

“No, it’s fine,” you sniff as the embarrassment swells behind your eyes, “I’ll just… go and be back soon. Okay?”

“Take your time,” he gives a pitiful smile, “you know where to find me.”

“Yep,” you nod and quickly spin away, “see ya soon.”

You slip as you cross the lobby, barely keeping afoot as your steps are hampered by the slush left by those entering and the drink leaking down your body. The overwhelming scent of vanilla chokes you and curdles in your stomach. It feels an awful lot like guilt.

🐍

You block Finn’s number, his TikTok, Insta, everything you can think of. Sam too. You just want to forget about it all.

The task is made all the harder as the day of the trip to Nornheim approaches. You have the last of your fee ready, a few meals sacrificed towards it, and you arrive early to meet the bus and Professor Shade. The other students are barely awake as they shuffle towards the door.

“Sir,” you approach the professor as he folds up the collar of his red coat, “here.”

He takes the envelope and doesn’t bother to look inside. “Thank you. Excited?” He tucks away the money inside his jacket and buttons it back up, patting his chest firmly.

“Yeah, pretty excited,” you say as you move to join the line waiting to board the bus.

“And the library, how is that?”

You’re surprised he’s remembered. You haven’t seen or spoke to him much aside from counting out your pennies for the bus ride. “It’s not bad. I mostly deal with library services like the computers and printers and stuff.”

As you get to the doors, you climb up the steps and pass the driver as you watch the bodies shambling into the seats. He trails you, almost too close as he assures the driver that all are present and ready to depart.

“Ah, looks like you’re stuck with me,” he waves to the only remaining row of seats, “do you prefer the window?”

“Either is fine,” you answer.

“Go on,” he directs you and you turn to shimmy into the far seat. He sits beside you at the front, his long legs confined in the tight row, “so, you said you have family in Jotun?”

“I know some people there,” you say evasively as you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You ignore it.

“As do I,” he says as he opens his scarf and lets it hang down his chest as he unbuttons his coat. The engine rumbles on as the driver calls for all to sit down. “At Nornheim, actually. The curator is a friend of mine, he was the one who offered us this privilege. Clever man, I usually run into him at conferences and the like.”

“The curator?” You try not to show your alarm, “wow.”

“Yes, well, I will admit, he did prevail over me in acquiring that position. Maybe friends is a strong word for us,” he gives a light chuckle.

Your phone buzzes several times and you try to ignore it but it’s heard in the lull. He glances down towards the noise and you push your bag against the wall of the bus to pull off your mitts. He rests his elbow on the armrest between you.

“Someone calling?” He wonders.

“No, just those dumb automated reminders, you know?” You are getting way too comfortable with lying.

“Ah, well, as we are on the subject, the museum is hosting a conference in the spring. I’ve yet to announce it so I must caution secrecy, but there will be some papers selected from the class to present there.”

“Oh,” you look at him in surprise, “that’s… big.”

“Yes, it would be a great opportunity,” he nods, “during today’s visit, perhaps we might run into the curator. He would have more details. Right now everything is a bit tenuous.”

“I won’t tell anyone,” you promise.

“I do appreciate the discretion,” he smiles.

Your phone vibes again and you sigh, “sorry, let me just turn this one silent.”

You lift yourself slightly as you dig your hand in your pocket and pull out your phone. He distracts himself as he bends one leg over the other and attempts to get comfortable. Your screen is filled with notifications. You unlock it and pull down the menu to hit the mute button, but another deluge of alerts come in.

You click on the first one and find yourself tagged on an Insta page. At the top, you’re declared as a slut and nothing else. Your chest sinks as your photo is top and center below the nasty title. You should just block and close but the dread-filled curiosity urges you on.

You drag your thumb down and reveal several photos. Several stupid moments you wish you could take back in the moment. Images of you in your panties, some topless, others not, dumb decisions made at the behest of a pleading man child. Finn said he deleted them. He promised.

“Everything alright?” Shade asks and you quickly hide your phone.

“Yeah, yeah, missed a call from my mom but it’s fine,” you keep your screen tilted away as you hit the report button. Hopefully, it’s taken down before it gets any more traction.

“You look… upset. Is she okay?”

“Who?”

“Your mother?” He prompts.

“Oh, uh, yeah, I’m sorry. I’m just–” you put your phone in your purse, “I just want to enjoy the museum. I’m really excited.”

He smiles and his arm shifts on the rest, for a moment, you think he might touch your hand but he draws away, “I rarely see such enthusiasm in my pupils. I hope you do find it an enriching experience.”

“Yeah, thanks, I’m sure it will be,” you say as you look out the window, “it really is awesome we get to go.”

🐍

As you arrive at the museum, you free yourself from the professor and keep to the edge of the group. He directs the lot of sleepy sophomores up the vaunted steps of the Nornheim and speaks briefly with the front desk before proceeding. You follow and try to ignore the odd glance of judgment sent in your direction. Phones are to be kept muted but not prohibited completely.

You’re led on a basic tour of the main wing and you find yourself slipping into reverie at your last visit, desperately trying to ignore the spattering heat as Loki’s ghost lingers there. The familiarity reminds you of what you did, of his office, of his goading words...

At the end of the curated part, you are led to a new wing where the Norse exhibit is set up. There, the silver-haired man awaits you. You hide in the back as Loki welcomes you to the Halls of the Nine Realms.

“Thank you all for coming,” Loki’s timbre sinks into you and you squirming. You close your eyes and try not to think. Just listen. “As a favour to your professor, I’ve allowed you a special preview of this exhibit. Your tour will be unguided but you can find staff as defined by their lanyards. They will be more than happy to assist.

“Without further ado, welcome. And I hope you enjoy this as it has been an especially dear labour to my heart.”

With his final words, the students slowly disperse, aimless at first as the hall dims and spectral lights cast across the walls. You make an effort to keep yourself close to another pair, to try to lose yourself in the crowd. With any luck, he’ll never know you were there.

You stop at the family tree of the legendary gods and keep your chin down. Before you can move on, you’re trapped by the voices that come not too far away.

“Victor,” Loki greets, “you’ve brought quite the rabble.”

“Laufeyson,” Shade replies, “you’ve outdone yourself.”

“Don’t give me all the credit, your help was much appreciated,” the response comes lithely, the men parrying in a sort of verbal fencing.

You sidles along, careful not to cause too much disturbance as you find a display of the World’s Tree to skirt around. Their voices fade as you drift into the background. You shouldn’t have come. The cost alone should’ve been enough to deter you. This is a mistake, you feel it in your core. If you have to face Loki…

“Oh, pardon,” the voice startles you as much as the wall you collide with. Not a wall at all, but another person. Professor Shade gently touches your shoulder as he takes a step back, “I should look where I’m going.”

“No, no, I should,” you say, “sorry, I–”

“It’s easy to get carried away in here,” he coaxes, “don’t you think?”

“Yeah, it’s so… elaborate,” you peer around, “I’m really happy I could come.”

“Me too,” he smiles and quickly turns to look at the placard on the side of the World’s Tree, “what I mean is…I think it is a worthy experience for all my students.”

“Oh sure, in Carfrae, we don’t have a museum anymore.”

“Carfrae,” he toys with the word, “ah, my hometown.”

“You’re from Carfrae?” You utter in disbelief, his accent would hardly betray his origin.

“Oh yes, not many who would guess but I do carry that chip on my shoulder,” he pushes back his jacket as he tucks his hands in his pockets, “let me say, you cannot let that place hold you back.”

“I try not to.”

“You haven’t. You’re here. You’re a smart girl,” he bows his head, “you’ll go far.”

“Thanks, uh, we’ll see,” you see Loki’s shoulders as he hovers along a cluster of students, watching as they gather around a display.

“Don’t let me distract you, sorry,” he steps away, “I too prefer to take things in on my own.”

“It’s not that–”

“Truly, it isn’t an issue, I would rather you get what you can of it, however you must,” he slips his hands from his pocket and pivots on his heel, “I am meant to be overseeing this lot as it is.”

He strides off, greeting Gavin brightly and you tiptoe further around the tree. You slouch and edge along the far wall, digging in your purse for your phone. You check the time. There’s at least an hour left. You can’t help but note the endless notifications stacking up beneath the bold digits.

You open your phone and check the page again. Still there. Sixty comments on the most recent post, more and more as you swipe lower. Your chest fills with terror. What do you do? What can you do?

You fumble and quickly dial Finn’s number. You wait for an answer but none comes. You’ve been blocked as well. You try Sam and the same. You swear and rip your phone away from your ear as you flip back to Insta.

“Excuse me, but I must ask that you make any calls–” Loki’s voice startles you and you spin to face him as your cell slides out of your hand. You try to catch it but only send it to his feet. He looks down then back at you, “darling.”

“Shit,” you hiss and bend to snatch your phone but he’s first to get to it. He holds it out of your grasp as he straightens and steps closer.

“Why didn’t you say hello?”

You swallow, “I… I broke up with Finn.”

“As I expected. My own son, I must admit, never deserved you.”

“Please. Don’t,” you plead, “I feel rotten enough.”

“Why? Because we had some fun? Because I treated you as you should be?”

“Can I just have my phone back?”

“Darling, what’ve I done? Did you not get my gift?”

“Oh… the flowers? Yeah, they’re nice but–”

“Is it someone else? I wouldn’t hold that against you, darling, you’re young and I hope I’ve shown you how much more you deserve–”

“Please, just–”

“It is rather improper to have one’s phone out in the museum,” he intones as he looks at your cell, “rather insulting to–” He pauses and blinks at your screen. You grab for the phone and try to cover it. He angles it away from you as his thumb scrolls, “ah, yes, my son. He does always make me proud.”

“He’s just upset. That’s it. But he doesn’t know about us, I promise.”

“Us?” He relents and holds out your cell. You take it.

“About what happened. Not us. There is no us.”

“There isn’t?” He asks flatly.

“I don’t… know?”

“I think about it every day. Don’t you?” He lowers his voice.

“You’re married.”

“And?”

“I dated your son. Your son who hates me.”

“And?”

“And?” You echo in exasperation. “We can’t do this.”

“Tell me, darling, it will not bother me if there is another. Does he treat you well?”

“There isn’t anyone else, okay? This is too much already. It’s messy and we never should have– ever–” You struggle to keep from hyperventilating, “you can’t just–”

“Do you not look fondly back at how I made you purr, darling? Of the feel of my lips? On yours? Elsewhere? Of how you fit me perfectly–”

“Please.”

“Please. I am consumed by you, darling, I must confess it. And I remain as chaste in my marriage as before. My wife will not have me and I would only have you.”

“No, it’s wrong.”

“You are young, mistakes are the gift of youth,” he slithers and you flinch as he reaches to your collar, he tugs down your sweater and traces the scar left by the knife, “stay. I can drive you back to campus in the morning. You can help close up again. Just you and I.”

“I can’t,” you draw back and look around. You see Professor Shade as he chats with Anna and he notices your gaze over her head. He gives a small wave before you turn back to Loki, “I have classes.”

“How do you like Professor Shade? Helpful?”

“I guess–”

“Handsome?”

“What?”

“He does have a certain allure, doesn’t he?”

“No, Loki, please–”

“Let us not pretend, you have very particular tastes, don’t you, darling?”

“You–”

“Stay,” he insists, “I’ll have you back for classes. We’ll get a suite and catch up.”

“Loki…”

“Do you really want to go back there? With all that has transpired? The chaos my son has sewn for you.”

“But–”

“Tell him you have family here. That you are staying to take in the sights and visit.”

“What?”

“The professor that does dote on you,” he intones, “I cannot blame him and I do not. Let him down easy.”

You rub your cheek and sigh. He’s not wrong, you don’t want to go back. Not yet. You’re not ready to face all the shit coming your way. And that twinge deep inside you won’t let you go.

You have to be honest, at least with yourself. You came knowing he would be there, that you would more than likely run into him. You came because of him, no matter how much you deny it.

“You’re wrong about him,” you say, “not everyone is you.”

“No they are not,” he agrees with a smirk.

“I’ll skip the bus,” you resign, “but not my classes.”

“Good girl, as always,” he winks and steps away, “I can suffer a few more hours for you.”

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #all in the family #silverfox #heimdall #vision #victor shade #mcu #marvel #avengers #thor #au

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