#throw in some frenemies to lovers for good measure

[not-ur-manic-pixie-dream-girl]

I fear like this is just really, really niche and nobody will get it but it's been living rent-free in my head for the last month so. Hear me out - modern!AU Aragorn x reader/OC fanfiction that is set in a hospital, like Grey's Anatomy or Chicago MD style (just maybe more medical realism). Because hear me out - Aragorn in scrubs? Aragorn casually throwing his hair into a ponytail before treating a patient? Aragorn as this ridiculously competent medical professional? Like hell yeah sign me up.

Anyway, thank you for coming to my TED talk.

[green-eyeddragonfanfiction]

Two of a Kind: Chapter 2

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Dark Elf!Reader Summary: You left Svartalfheim before the first victory against your people and avoided the extinction by living in Sakaar, the home of all lost things like yourself. You lived there for a long time and built yourself a sort of home there... until a couple of Asgardians show up and ruin everything for you. The trip to the Grandmaster’s palace goes better than expected, and you catch up with an old frenemy. Warnings: Extraterrestrial slavery, swearing (always) Word Count: ~2,847 A/N: The chapter rotation is ToaK, GoW, TWID. In other words, Ghosts of War is the next chapter I’ll post and then The Way I Do, then back to Two of a Kind. Also, sorry for the slow posting. Life is hard.

Masterlist // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

You nodded. “Don’t go far. You could run to the Grandmaster if you really wanted to, but he’s not as forgiving as I am.”

Loki frowned. “You’ll kill me if I run. How could he possibly be worse?”

You shrugged. “I may kill you, but it’ll be relatively painless. Grandmaster will melt you from the inside out. It’s gruesome, really.”

Loki looked disgusted by this new revelation. “Waiting outside. Got it.”

You couldn’t help but smile at him as he walked out the door, shutting it gently behind him. If you let yourself forget, for a moment, that he would kill you the moment he got the chance, he really would have been pleasurable company.

As promised, Loki waited patiently just outside your door, back to the cold medal and arms crossed casually across his chest. His gaze flicked to you the moment the door to your room slid open and, for the first time since you met him, he seemed at a loss for words. Your bright red and gold dress trailed along the ground, the soft fabric whispering against the rough metal-grated floor of your compound. Although nearly every inch of your body was covered, it hugged you skin-tight, leaving little to the imagination.

“Something the matter, Loki Laufeyson?” you asked playfully, smile dancing behind your mask.

His eyes hardened a measure at your playful jab and he tore his gaze from you with what seemed like a great effort. “Just tired of waiting for you,” Loki said loftily, earning a short breathy chuckle from you.

“I see, then. My apologies. It takes me a great while to squeeze into this dress, but the final presentation is worth it, no?” you asked sweetly, placing yourself directly in front of him.

You could see Loki’s throat bob as he gulped audibly, determinedly looking just right of your face. “Yes, you look quite agreeable. I’m sure you’ll blend in perfectly.”

Your lips tugged up at the corners, devious grin on your face. Was this man not approached by women often? There was no way. He was sex on two legs. Perhaps he was conflicted between being attracted to you and wanting to see you as a rival or worthy leader. Either way, his reaction amused you to no end.

“Thank you, Loki. Shall we be going?” you asked, proffering your arm out for him.

“Yes, I’m eager to meet this Grandmaster,” he said, eyes straight ahead as the two of you began gliding down the hallway. If you weren’t mistaken, his gaze kept flicking to you as you snaked your hand around his elbow and led him to the shuttle bay.

As the door to the hangar slid open to reveal the lines of ships of different shapes and sizes you could see him take in every possible escape option. You could see him eye the small one-person craft in the corner and secretly appreciated his decision. It was easily one of the nicest ships in your collection, capable of traveling off planet.

“We’ll be taking Palesius. She’s small and fast, but not space worthy.” You pointed to the ship in question, a small luxury liner used specifically for visiting the Grandmaster’s palace. It didn’t have any guns so it was fast enough to outrun any possible pursuers with the added benefit of getting you to the other side of the planet in a reasonable amount of time. The bright electric blue and bloody red paint reflected brilliantly even in the dim artificial light.

Loki seemed to walk forward without even realizing it, his feet carrying him to the front of the vessel where his fingers grazed hull of the well-kept ship.

“You approve?” you asked smugly, watching him eye the machine like a kid in a candy shop.

He retracted his hand quickly as though the metal had burned him. “It will do,” he said happily, trying to preserve his persona of feigned affability.

The door opened as you walked over to it and you stepped inside, giving him a single warning as he stepped onto the ship behind you. “Unless you feel like walking back or stealing from the Grandmaster- which is suicide- I suggest you don’t kill me. This ship can only be piloted by myself. Biometric scans and all that, you know how it is,” you said, sliding gracefully into the pilot’s seat. The ship turned on the moment your butt hit the chair and you smiled as you felt the familiar hum of the engines starting.

“Wonderful.”

“Scrapper 23, requesting landing,” you said to the masked man on the large holo screen that took up half of your ship’s front window.

“Permission granted, Scrapper 23. Proceed to spot X-49,” the man told you with the bored efficiency of a man that had spent too much time doing a single monotonous job.

You thanked him before the screen clicked off then you relaxed back into your chair as you let your ship’s computer guide you to the correct spot.

“I’m proud of you,” you said, throwing Loki a grin that he couldn’t see.

He stopped staring out the window (taking everything in with a frightening curiosity and seriousness) and turned a confused stare on you. “I can’t tell if you’re mocking me or not,” he said, unsure.

You smiled. “Completely serious. We made it the entire way here without you trying to kill me. Must be a new record. I half expected you to stab me the moment we were in the air.”

He grinned, eyes sharp. “The promise of world domination was just too alluring and I’m afraid I’m too green here to do it by myself just yet.”

You made a dramatic hurt noise. “And here I was thinking you had finally taken a liking to me.”

His response couldn’t have surprised you more. “Well there was that, too,” he said with a playful smile.

“Ah, the Frost Giant’s heart thaws. Such a compelling tale!” you said as you pulled into your spot between two other similarly sized ships. Judging by how full the Grandmaster’s garage was, it was to be a large party. It was better that way, it’d be even easier for Loki to sneak around and gather information.

He rolled his eyes at your dramatic exclamations. “Anything I should know before we enter?”

“Oh, of course, but I don’t have the time to teach you everything. Just try not to offend the Grandmaster, alright? It’ll reflect badly on me if he turns you to goo and I’m already walking on thin ice with him and his people.”

Loki stared flatly at you. “I’m sorry if my being melted makes your life a little more difficult.”

You bit back a smirk but didn’t rise to the bait. “Thank you, I’m so glad you understand.”

Loki opened his mouth to argue but the shuttle door opened and he quickly snapped it shut again. You stood and held your hand out to him and he eyed it warily.

“Shall we, lover?” you asked, shit-eating grin hidden behind your mask.

“I beg your pardon?” Loki asked incredulously.

“Oh, did I forget to mention that’s how I’m sneaking you in? As my lover?” you asked, biting back a laugh at the look on his face. He wasn’t the only one who could cause mischief.

Loki glared at you. “Is that normal behavior for you? Toting lovers to the Grandmaster’s ostentatious parties?” 

“No.”

“Then why? Surely that will come off as suspicious. I’ll attract too much attention,” Loki argued, looking angrier by the second. 

“I’m counting on it, sweetheart. I never bring anyone but Halu to his parties. The Grandmaster won’t be able to take his eyes off you and I can guarantee he’ll try to steal you out from under me. He hates when I have toys he doesn’t have.”

“So I’m to be bait,” Loki deadpanned.

“I suppose that depends on how you play it. I was thinking of you more as a spy or high-value informant, but if you want to be bait, then I won’t stop you,” you said, grin evident in your tone.

Loki scoffed but reached up and clasped his hand around your outstretched one and hauled himself to his feet. “Fine, we do it your way, Dark Elf.”

As you exited the ship hand in hand with him the thought crossed your mind that, perhaps, he hadn’t put up as much of a fuss with your plan as you’d expected him to.

You wandered through the levels of Grandmaster’s palace, mingling and showing Loki off as you went. You knew by the time you arrived in front of the Grandmaster that he would have heard all about you and your mysterious guest.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find some modicum of comfort in the simple act of holding his hand in this pit of vipers.

Sure enough, the moment you set foot in the same room as him on the forty-ninth floor, he spotted you immediately and made a beeline for you. Topaz followed dutifully behind, glaring murderous daggers at you the whole way.

“23! So good to see you!” Grandmaster said excitedly. You hadn’t seen him this happy to see you in literally thousands of years. “Who’s your fetching little friend?” he asked, saucily-predatory gaze immediately falling to Loki who, to his credit, didn’t miss a beat. His hand dropped from yours and he took an objectively graceful (and very dramatic bow) in front of the Grandmaster.

“Your greatness, Grandmaster! I’ve heard so much about you from 23! Her tales of your illustriousness and impeccable taste didn’t do you justice. It is truly a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Loki simpered. You rolled your eyes, thankful the mask hid your expression from all present.

The Grandmaster tittered happily, practically vibrating with excitement. “Oh my! Well aren’t you just a little sweet-talker,” he gushed, already smitten with Loki as you knew he would be. Damned fool was too susceptible to flattery.

“Kiss ass,” Topaz said in disgust, just as charming as ever.

Grandmaster waved her comments away. “Now now, Topaz. They’re our guests. 23 always brings me interesting things.”

You didn’t miss the way Loki bristled a bit at being called a thing. You came to his rescue almost without thinking about it, though you knew your words would only make the Grandmaster want Loki more. “I’m sorry, Grandmaster, but he’s not for sale. I’m afraid I’ve become quite taken with this one and he’s one of a kind,” you said, surprising Loki by reaching up to tuck one of his locks of raven black hair back behind his ear. His eyes flashed warily to you, but his posture was still relaxed enough that neither Topaz nor the Grandmaster picked up on his surprise. “I do, however, see a few other guests I’ve not talked with in some time. Shall I leave the two of you to get to know each other better while I catch up with old friends?” you asked placatingly. You didn’t like the way Topaz was gripping the melt stick.

At this, the Grandmaster surged forward and took Loki around the shoulders. You couldn’t help but smile at the look of abject horror on Loki’s face as he was shepherded away by the Grandmaster.

“I’ll find you later, love! Have fun!” you said cheerfully, biting back a laugh at Loki’s look of betrayal while the Grandmaster chattered his ear off.

Good luck, you thought to yourself. Loki was charming enough that you knew there was no way the Grandmaster would kill him, but getting him back before you left might prove difficult.

Luckily, the Grandmaster’s parties lasted days. You had plenty of time.

You’d been to the Grandmaster’s palace enough times that, even with all the renovations and redesigns, you managed to make it to the nearest bar on the first try. She should be- Sure enough, you spotted the head of brown-black hair sitting at the bar working through what looked like an entire keg of ale.

You crossed the room and sat down beside Scrapper 142. She was so sauced she didn’t even notice you immediately. When she finally looked over at you she did a double-take, then groaned. “Whaddyou want?” she grumped, rewarding herself with another swig of ale for the effort of stringing together an entire two-ish word sentence.

“Am I not allowed to check up on my friends?” you asked kindly, waving the bartender over.

“’M not your friend, Elf. I’m a business rival at best,” 142 griped.

You rested your elbow on the table then cradled your head in your hand. “I’m wounded, 142. And here I was ready to forgive you for poaching on my territory.”

142 rolled her eyes. “You aren’t forgiving shit, both of us know that. Deal was I stop killing your guys and you let me scavenge in your territory once in a while.”

You gave the bartender a grateful nod and began on sipping whatever the hell it was he’d just poured for you. Something fruity and... tasting vaguely of raw meat? You decided not to question it. “I sometimes wonder what I get from that deal,” you said, tone light and teasing with just a hint of business-like threat underneath.

142 turned and leveled a very unfocused glare at you. “Less dead workers, mostly.” 

You tilted your head at her, smile dancing on your lips. You really wished this woman didn’t find her salvation at the bottom of a bottle. She would have been so much fun to fight.

142 only glowered harder. “Stop starin’ at me with that creepy fucking mask. Too drunk for this shit right now, 23.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” you quipped.

“I hate you.”

You laughed at this, earning a half-hearted shove from 142 that still managed to make you grab the bar so you wouldn’t go tipping off your seat. 142 was too drunk and lazy to leave (free booze was the best kind of booze, after all) but didn’t feel like initiating conversation with you so she buried herself in the bottom of another tankard of mystery ale.

“I met another one today,” you said finally, fingers running over the condensation on your glass.

Even smashed, 142 didn’t miss a beat. “What, another asshole? Plenty’a those around.”

You let out a short breath of a laugh. “No, you complete arse. An Asgardian.”

142 took a long swig of ale and looked as though someone had crapped in it, though you knew it was only her distaste at your news. “An’ why the hell should I care?”

You shrugged. “Dunno. He’s an interesting one is all. I’m keeping him for a while. He’s fun, likes to keep me on my toes.”

142 turned a surprisingly shrewd eye on you and you suddenly felt like you were being x-rayed. Finally, she took another drink, smug smile on her face. “You like him,” she said as she slammed the tankard down on the sleek counter.

Under your mask your cheeks heated at the sudden accusation. “What? No! He’s just the most interesting person on this stupid rock... besides me, of course!” you sputtered.

142 laughed and you nearly smiled with her. She almost never showed any emotion besides annoyance distaste... occasionally smugness.

“Like I said, you like him! That’s some messed up crap, 23. A Dark Elf falling for an Asgardian. That’s a tragedy in the making if I’ve ever heard it.”

“Oh fuck off, 142,” you said with a groan, covering your mask with your hands. “He’s not even truly Asgardian. He’s Frost Giant.”

142 stopped laughing and looked at you at that revelation. “What are you on about? I thought you said he’s Asgardian. I didn’t think I was that drunk... though I should be.”

“He’s Frost Giant blood, Asgardian raised,” you explained, suddenly wishing you had more details. You knew very little of exactly how that had come to pass.

“Bullshit,” 142 concluded, returning to her drinking.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not fucking with you, 142. You’d know that if you just-”

“I’m not going anywhere near ‘im, 23. Now stop going on about it or I’ll stab you,” 142 threatened, holding out a thin pointed dagger for emphasis.

You rolled your eyes. “You and I both know we’d destroy this place before either of us took a hit.”

142 held the dagger at you for a second or two more before she let out a snort and sheathed it back into her boot. “Yeah, you’re right. You may have a stick up your ass, but they built you Elves tough.”

“And you may have a hard head, but they build you Asgardians like ghilres.”

142 turned and stared at you, brows furrowed in confusion. “What the hell is a ghilre?”

You frowned and tilted your head to the side. “You don’t know about them? Big, strong, four-legged animals with tough hides that not even dark steel could pierce. Very big horns in front. Tiny eyes. Thick skull. Likes ramming things head-on.”

“So... biglesnipes.”

Next Chapter

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