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–Palestinian poet and editor of Mizna, George Abraham.

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Plague Doctor masks based off of different birds

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read boy wonder and i LOVE how damian is drawn like this. i need him as a squishy so i can flatten him on my desk and watch him bounce back Angry.

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dick grayson is a dinosaur (CANON)

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I'm not fucking joking when I tell you I saw this panel and literally started sobbing and crying over seeing my babygirl buying chocolate with just fucking quarters. This is the people's jason todd for real, thank you Juni Ba

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a few things that remind me of fear of loss and separation

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hi, just stopping by to ask if you're okay, you haven't posted in a while

Thank you for checking on me!! Life got hectic, and i just haven’t had the energy or motivation to write. Hopefully that will change soon. Much love <3

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Sparks, Pt. 5

Loki x Reader

Chapter Summary: It's time to confront Loki's mind, with the Avengers at your back.

A/N: Sorry it's taken so long, y'all. Also, tumblr doesn't let me reply to comments with this blog, but I always see and deeply appreciate anything you guys have to say. Please enjoy!

TW: Mention of torture.

You were floating through darkness, then electric blues and smatterings of stars, space and nothingness. Beautiful. Terrifying.

A voice, not Loki's, entered your mind.

“What’s this?”

It felt as though someone were spinning you in a chair with your eyes closed, in every conceivable direction. Inspecting you. If you could feel nauseous in an astral sense, then this was it.

A hollow, wheezing laugh.

“You are out of your depths, telepath.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but realized you didn’t have a physical mouth to speak with. Projecting your thoughts, you asked,

“Who are you? What is this?”

The being’s presence suddenly felt… reprimanding. As if they were wagging a finger at you.

“Out of your depths.”

Images and feelings pressed around you, all sides of your consciousness bombarded by memories, thoughts, pain. Pain most of all, mental and physical. You saw images of planets you didn’t recognize, alien faces you didn’t recognize, and even as Loki’s knowledge filled in the blank spaces, the names and implications of these things were overwhelming.

You struggled to absorb the new information, and you knew if you could feel your body, you would vomit.

There was torture. Hot, piercing, screaming. And then torture was replaced with shackles.

A glowing cube, the scepter, you recognized. Earth. New people, even your own face. Germany. Everything leading up to the present.

You looked into your own eyes as you grabbed the handles.

_____

Fury watched as you grasped the handles, expecting everything except for what actually happened next.

A nearly imperceptible force field of blue enveloped you and Loki, and your body began to shake, convulsing strangely while your eyes remained closed and your hands locked into place. A slow horror crept into everyone watching.

“Stop this!” Thor flew towards Loki, in an attempt to grapple him, to yank him away from the table, but when he met the blue force, it propelled him back.

He responded by calling Mjolnir to his hand.

“Thor, don’t!” Steve yelled.

“He’s doing something to her!” he said, the hammer still raised high.

Natasha stepped forward. “Interfering could make things worse.”

“She’s right.” Fury said, moving to study the field. “We have to wait.”

Thor responded in a barely contained growl. “Every second this is happening, the more damage could be done to her.”

As if on cue, the field pulsed once. Then again. And then several times in quick succession before melting away as you slumped onto the table in front of you, hands falling away from the handles. Loki remained upright but dazed.

Steve approached you cautiously, and when he found no force to stop him, he checked your neck for a pulse. “She’s alive!”

The room breathed a sigh of relief.

_____

You had never experienced a mind like Loki’s.

It was clinging to your consciousness even as Cap carried you out of the cell and to the recovery ward.

You were aware of Dr. Banner checking your vitals and shining a light in your eyes, but could not bring yourself to respond or care.

“Catatonic?” Natasha’s voice floated to you, laced with concern.

You didn’t hear an answer, but assumed he responded non verbally, since Cap followed up with the next question.

“Can we do anything? Do we know how long she’ll be like this?”

“I don’t know,” Bruce’s soft voice sounded weary. “Is Loki in a similar state?”

_______

As soon as you were cleared from the room, Thor was quick to pounce on his brother, yanking him up by his leathers and slamming him into the nearby glass.

“What did you do?”

But Loki’s eyes seemed to look straight through Thor, his expression one of disorientation similar to the young woman’s. His focal point bounced around wildly, as if he were seeing things that weren’t there, before they landed on Thor.

“Brother?” Loki’s confusion made Thor’s resolve stumble for a brief moment. Was he truly having an episode, or was this simply another trick? Thor had made the mistake of giving Loki the benefit of the doubt far too many times.

He shoved him again roughly. “What did you do?”

His brother’s eyes closed, his head shaking from side to side. “I…” He groaned, his hands coming to his head but being stopped short by his manacles.

“Loki?”

His body grew heavier in Thor’s hold, slumping forward, before he seemed to come back to himself. A mirthless chuckle rumbled in his chest before he finally looked Thor in the eye, all confusion now absent. He looked drained.

“Oh, brother. None of you have any idea what you’re truly up against.”

______

“Sparks, if you can say anything, or even just blink to let us know you’re in there, that would be swell.”

Tony was good at masking anxiety. His entire life had been a practice of putting up a solid front, a cocky exterior to disguise doubt or inhibition-- having a father like his would do that to you. But right now, at the sight of your impassive face and wide, blank eyes, that mask was beginning to crack around the edges.

No, you would be alright. He couldn’t think like that. Moping never solved any problems.

“Jarvis, keep an eye on her for me, would you?”

“Yes, sir.”

Tony needed to keep working. His decryption of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s files was still in the process of digging up whatever skeletons Fury might be hiding in SHIELD’s closet, and whenever that finished, he might have a reckoning to deal out. Not only that, but they had yet to locate the cube, leaving Loki with the upperhand. Unless Sparks woke up soon, they wouldn’t know anything about his plans until it was too late.

Something was beginning to converge, he could feel it, and he needed to be ready.

Rogers didn’t like Tony’s methods, but he could tell that the Capsicle was just as concerned as he was about S.H.I.E.L.D.’s cloak-and-dagger operation. Why would they call them in now? If they really were focused on creating a clean energy source with the Tesseract as they claimed, why not ask Tony to consult? Fury was hiding something.

And Tony was going to figure out what.

_____

If working through one’s own thoughts and memories was hard work, working through an Asgardian’s was excruciating. Like homework for an advanced class you had never taken.

And it wasn’t only Loki’s vast amount of memory that made it difficult, but the entity that had sent you into a tailspin. The one that had spoken to you in that chilling whisper.

Someone was in Loki’s head, or at least using him as a surveillance device.

Sifting through everything you learned felt similar to those dreams you would have that were so full and chaotic and absurd, they were difficult to hold onto upon waking. The feeling and the effect remained in your head and body, but the specific information was so difficult to parse, the mind could hardly keep hold of it.

Feelings of searing heat and fear lingered more than the rest. Someone had done something to Loki before he came to Earth. And that someone loitered in his mind, not controlling him necessarily, but keeping tabs. Keeping him in his place.

What did they want?

You asked yourself this, begging your mind to make sense of Loki’s. People’s thoughts were hardly as streamlined as you might believe, and a god’s was no exception.

Part of your training had been to hone this ability. To search through one’s mind to find the pertinent information your handlers wanted.

It was like practicing for tee ball, only to be thrown into the big leagues.

Meanwhile, you were aware of physical sensations. Occasionally someone would speak. But there was simply too much static to force through to respond in any way, verbal or physical. You were drained of everything.

So l, what, I-I-I’m the monster parents tell their children about at night?

I could’ve done it father! For you! For all of us.

You think you know pain? When he’s through you’ll wish for something as sweet as pain.

Give up this pointless dream! Come home.

Did you mourn?

_______

“I’m sorry Nick, what were you lying?”

Fury was using the Tesseract to create weapons. Not that Tony could exactly take the moral high ground here, but at least his suspicions were proved correct— as usual. And even Cap had to back him up on that.

In fact, Cap had done his own digging, much to Tony’s pleasant surprise.

Eventually, Fury admitted what sort of dark projects they were using the Tesseract for. And he blamed it on Thor’s New Mexico incident.

Soon, they were all trading barbs, yelling at each other. At this time, JARVIS knew you were waking. But as many attempts as he made to alert Sir to this fact, it was as if he could not hear him.

And he couldn’t hear his warning about the strange energy readings pulsing from the scepter either. It seemed to appreciate their discordance. Their chaos.

____

You couldn’t say how long you spent locked in your mind, desperately trying to make sense of Loki’s. But once you found what you were looking for, a sense of dread and a burst of adrenaline had you rocketing into awareness.

You stood up too fast, the room spinning around you and black spots tainting your vision. Surprised to see the infirmary around you empty, you knew your best bet to tell someone what you had learned was the lab.

Plus it was the only place you knew how to navigate to in this huge fucking carrier.

Once you could run without falling, you broke into a dead sprint to the lab. You couldn’t afford to waste time. You had no idea when this attack could happen.

Amidst the blur of white walls and metal, a new figure appeared.. far too green for your liking.

You nearly wiped out, skidding to a stop in a Looney Tunes fashion.

“Jesus Christ!” You exhaled. “What the fuck do you want?”

Loki advanced on you quickly, and you backed away instinctively though you knew he was only a projection of his true self. “Stop this now. Stop this, and I’ll take you with me, unharmed. You can share this power.”

You shook your head, bewildered. “What??”

“You heard me.” He closed in on you, your back pressing against the wall and your chest rising and falling too quickly, too quickly and it hurt. “You have power. If you joined our forces, you would be well compensated.”

He was stalling you. Manipulating you.

You bared your teeth at him. “Nice try.”

And you walked straight through his projection to continue your route. Your limbs were still weak, and you stumbled a bit.

He continued beside you. “If you don’t, the price will be worse than you can imagine. You’ve seen what’s in my mind. You know what I’m talking about.”

The flashes were painful. You did know. You knew, and that’s why you couldn’t stop.

“I saw into your mind as well, you know,” He called behind you. This stopped you in your tracks. “Do you really think those people will give up so easily? That they won't track you down? Use your family against you?”

His voice grew closer until he was just over your shoulder. “I can stop them. They will pay for what they’ve done. Don’t you want that?”

You glanced behind you, meeting his eyes.

“For what, the small price of my world and its freedom? Sure,” you said, before turning on your heel and continuing your trek.

“You’ll regret this.” His voice sounded darker. Something like actual remorse. “You’ll regret this!”

____

“Sparks?”

Tony caught sight of you first. His expression told you all you needed to know about your appearance-- you must have looked as weak and dizzy as you felt. You held the door frame to steady yourself before taking in the scene in front of you.

They’d all been arguing, Tony and Cap the most intensely it had seemed. Even Fury and Nat, who you thought to be the most level headed, were in on the fighting.

“You have to stop. You have to stop this,” you waved your hand in front of you but quickly dropped it when it clearly trembled with the effort. “It’s exactly what he wants.”

“What do you know?” Fury asked urgently.

“I-” You stepped forward, but quickly saw spots, feeling the world spin beneath you.

“Steady, kid.” Tony’s voice, but you were already falling. Strangely enough, you didn’t feel the cold floor meet your body. Instead, a pair of unnaturally strong arms encircled you, and you knew instantly it was Thor, the scent of leather and the sheer size of his muscles a dead give away.

He scooped you up, and sat you on top of a lab table, keeping a hand on your shoulders to help you remain upright.

“What is he going to do?” Fury, again. Everyone was closer to you now.

You closed your eyes to focus. “He’s… he’s going to attack the carrier. He wants to induce the Hulk. He believes none of you will work together well enough to… to stop it. Especially with that around.” You shot an accusatory glance at the scepter.

They all followed your gaze.

“What do you mean ‘with that around’?”

“It’s influencing us. All of us. Even Loki. I don’t know how or why. It takes discourse and rage and intensifies it.”

“That’s why he gave it up so easily,” Steve said.

“Dammit.” Fury cursed. “Banner, you have as good a hold on that anger as you said?”

He nodded.

“Then I need you to buckle down and brace for impact-- away from the scepter. When is this attack supposed to happen?”

You winced. “I don’t know. Loki gave the timing to… Barton.” In the corner of your eye Natasha turned to marble.

There were things Barton told Loki about Nat. Terrible things she’d done before she defected. It did make you see her differently, but it also made you marvel at how far she’d come-- honestly, it gave you hope in people. If someone could be conditioned to kill emotionlessly like that, and still come out to be someone like Natasha, someone who seemed to know what you needed before you said it and offered help with such warmth, then… Then there was hope for everyone.

Maybe even Loki.

____

Thor carried you back to the infirmary as Tony made some sort of green electrolyte drink for you. He left to keep watch outside the carrier, per Fury’s orders. Only Bruce and Natasha were left in the room with you.

Dr. Banner seemed to be doing some sort of meditation, his breathing very steady. You knew now why you had vaguely recognized him before: The destruction of Harlem. His experiments turned him into a monster that decimated swaths of the New York borough.

“You have to keep drinking. No passing out,” Natasha admonished you when you slowed in your sipping on the stuff.

But you couldn’t get what you’d seen out of your head… The torture, the brutality. Someone found Loki and figured he would be fit to do their bidding and they shaped him out of pain and heat to do so.

“I need to see Loki.” You said abruptly.

Understandably, Natasha looked at you like you’d lost every single last one of your marbles. Slowly, she asked, “Why?”

“He’s not completely in control. I don’t know how to describe it, it’s not mind control exactly but… If I could break him out of it, I think he could help us. Or even stop the bigger attack that’s coming.”

“Bigger attack?”

“He has something devastating planned. I can’t see it clearly yet. Something--someone is blocking me.”

She closed her eyes and took a breath. “I can’t endanger you by letting you leave this room. Fury gave me orders. You and Banner are under my protection.”

“Natasha. He’s not in his right mind. If this is something I can do to help-”

“I can’t. I’m sorry.” And she really did look sorry.

Before you could think of another plea, a softer voice broke the silence.

“Romanoff, she might be onto something,” Banner said. You looked at him in surprise. He wasn’t the talkative type, and most certainly never assertive. “Plus, if this attack does happen and I can’t keep a lid on it… I don’t want either of you anywhere near me.”

Natasha stared at him. “Fury said-”

“I know. But I’ll be fine. You know they can’t kill me. Just go. I’ll close the door behind you.” He looked sure of himself.

Something shifted in her expression then. You couldn’t place your finger on exactly what it was, but you imagined that everyone who had met their end from the Black Widow had seen this face. The determination that stiffened her mouth and sharpened her eyes.

She turned to you, “Can you walk?”

______

You were still weak. Natasha kept you upright with an arm wound under your shoulders, but stayed in the shadows at your behest when you reached Loki’s cage. “I want him to think it’s me alone.”

She nodded. “If you need anything- anything- just say the word. I’m right behind you. And Sparks,” she caught your arm. “Don’t let him scare you.”

You limped into the light.

He was sitting on a bench with his back facing you. You knew he knew you were there, his Asgardian senses sharper than a typical human’s, and yet he gave no indication.

“They know,” you said. Just two words, but the weight of them hung in the air while you rigidly waited for his response.

He stood, turning slowly to face you. “I figured,” his head cocked to the side. “But what makes you think that simply knowing of our attack will help you all in any way once it arrives? Fury, the paranoid man he is, is always so prepared. What else could he possibly do?”

“I don’t know, but you certainly seemed worried about me telling them earlier.” You crossed your arms. He didn’t say anything in response immediately, only gazed at you in that piercing way.

“Tell me honestly, then,” he said. “Why are you here? To gloat?”

“You know I’m not that kind of person… Usually.” This earned you a dark chuckle from Loki, who shook his head. You continued, “When I looked into your mind I saw how you got here. I know someone is manipulating you. They hurt you quite badly before they sent you to Earth, didn’t they?”

He smiled, a cold thing. “You remember what I said to you before you ran and told your friends about my plan, don’t you?”

“I remember,” you said, suppressing a shiver. “And I’m here because I don’t care. I’m trying to help you.”

He laughed incredulously. “And how exactly could you possibly do that, darling?”

“The scepter is manipulating you. Let me help you,” you said. “You come here speaking of glorious purpose and ruling the planet. But you’re not free yourself. I know someone out there is making you do this for their own gains. That makes you a puppet, not a ruler.”

His jaw clenched at your last remark. Obviously, you’d hit a nerve.

“I made you an offer. You refused. No amount of pleading or pretty words will save you from that.” He walked closer to the glass. “What’s that expression you English speaking Midgardians use? You’ve made your bed.”

As if on cue, a bone-rattling crash shook the carrier, and the movement nearly caused you to fall, your trembling legs a poor foundation beneath you. Loki, as usual, took notice.

“It would seem that our little encounter weakened you, pet,” he said. “And you think you could possibly stand a chance against what’s to come?”

Tags: @purplekitten30 @scorpionchild81 @mjaudrey @srhxpci @the-maroon-panda @lirinstaalem @padmoonyfeorge @kashasenpai

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tumblr wont let me reply to comments on my posts for some reason, but i see and appreciate you guys!!

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Sparks, Pt. 4

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Chapter Summary: You get ready to confront the God of Mischief. But are you ready for that?

A/N: Finally, a bit more Loki.

TW: Eating

After a year consisting mostly of isolation and non-consensual experimentation, it was strange, to say the least, to have people actually give a shit about your well-being.

Shortly after Fury called the meeting to a close, Nat took you to a sort of staff room, oddly normal for a ship like this. State of the art, but with all the basic workings of a regular office’s staff room.

“You must be starving,” she said, pulling some things out of an impressive reach-in refrigerator. “Sandwich? I make a mean ham and cheese.”

Your stomach suddenly let out a worrying growl, and you winced.

“Sounds fantastic, actually,” you realized you couldn’t remember the last time you’d eaten. The lab hadn’t exactly been feeding you five star meals.

A comfortable silence settled into the room while Natasha assembled the sandwich. The quiet sounds of her work lulled you into a sort of trance, as you stared at the wall, and definitely didn’t think about how an agent of a secret organization was preparing you lunch on a giant aircraft carrier thousands of feet in the air which was also occupied by two gods, a historic super soldier, and the most famous tech genius in the world.

No. You didn’t think about it at all.

She presented you with her finished product and a glass of water with a flourish, which also included a bag of chips and an apple. “It might be too much, so only eat as much as you want. It’s better to take it easy when your stomach isn’t used to meals like this.”

You nodded and gave her an expression which you hoped looked more grateful than grimace. Truth be told, you were holding back emotion as even this small kindness felt overwhelming after the past year.

But as you picked up the sandwich to take a bite, a heavy set of footsteps stopped at the door.

It was Thor, his large frame standing almost sheepishly in the doorway. “Apologies for interrupting. May I speak with you?”

To your surprise, the question was for you, and after a nod, Nat touched your wrist and said, “I’ll be right outside. You can have the room.”

After she exited, Thor approached your table with a sort of caution.

“Oh, sorry, uh, would you like to sit down?” You stuttered lamely, when noticing his hesitation.

He nodded and did so, dwarfing the chair and the table. You hadn’t really taken the time to notice before, how huge his arms and shoulders were. A single bicep was larger than the size of your own head.

“Don’t let me interrupt your meal. You need your strength,” Thor said, eyes flicking to the plate. “Especially if you’re going to be facing my brother.”

Ah. That.

“Is that…” You were still having a bit of trouble processing the identity of who you were talking to. “Is that what you wanted to speak with me about?”

“Loki’s always been deceptive. I just wanted to warn you not to listen to anything he says, especially not at face value. He will try to distract you, deceive you, and it will seem he knows more about you than he should.”

As he spoke, you noticed he kept eyeing the potato chip packet next to your plate. You pushed it towards him, and he gratefully accepted, popping the bag open and nervously munching on its contents.

You hummed in thought. “I understand. Maybe it would help to know what kinds of abilities he has? What sort of tricks he’s able to pull?”

Thor seemed to relax slightly, having something to occupy his mind and hands. He regaled you with a few anecdotes of how Loki had used his magic to trick him, some from their childhood, and some more recently.

You found yourself both more reassured and more nervous, afraid there might be something you would miss allowing Loki an out. Or a way to hurt you. But all of that aside, it was almost fun to converse with Thor like this… being nearly immortal led to having many interesting stories to tell, and the more he told the more animated he became. He even had you laughing at some points.

“Thank you,” he held up the empty chip bag. “I haven’t had these since my last visit to Earth. A favored Midgardian dish, if I recall.”

You smiled. “No problem. And thank you for warning me. I know it must be difficult to... fight with family like this.”

“Yes,” a sad half smile lifted one side of his lips, “I’m afraid that is something I am still coming to terms with.”

Before he rose from his seat, Thor clapped you on the shoulder. “You know, you remind me of my first Midgardian friends. I believe they would like you. One of them zapped me with a small device that even mimics your powers.”

With that strange but kind remark, Thor left the room.

….

Natasha said she had things she needed to attend to, but that you were welcome to walk around as you pleased, and to just be careful not to stumble into anything that looked even mildly secret or dangerous.

So you aimlessly wandered the giant airship, mostly in an attempt to walk off some nerves. You tried to memorize your paths, memorize the turns and rooms, but after a while you realized just how much you’d fucked up. It was a fruitless endeavor, and you eventually found yourself quite lost.

“Great,” you muttered to yourself.

You turned the way you came, but as you did so, something shifted in the corner of your eye. Whipping frantically towards the movement, you felt your body tense like an animal being hunted, and thoughts of the masked man from the labs flooded your mind.

No, he couldn’t be here. Your mind was playing tricks, your anxiety was getting the better of you.

“My, my,” a silvery voice said into your ear. “You are jumpy, aren’t you?”

Reeling back, you slammed into the opposite wall, nearly knocking yourself out with the force of it. You still didn’t see the source of the voice.

“What is the reason for this skittishness, I wonder?”

Loki.

He materialized in front of you, and you froze like a deer in the headlights. He rolled his eyes. “Calm yourself. This is not an escape attempt.”

You did not find that convincing.

“This is merely a projection. My real body is still in that cell… Here, see for yourself.” His right hand swept out to beckon to you, palm up.

Did he want you to… touch him? Your earlier conversation with Thor filtered through your head, and you knew it would be a bad idea. You did not move. Again, frustration showed on Loki’s creased brow.

“Fine, look.” Then, through a wall of solid steel, Loki passed his hand as if he were just a hologram.

“What do you want?” you asked abruptly.

He looked faintly surprised that you had spoken, but schooled his expression quickly. “I want to know more about you.”

“What?” It was your turn to be surprised (not that you’d stopped since he materialized from nowhere). “Why?”

“It’s not every day I meet a mortal who can withstand an Infinity Stone’s power,” he chuckled, as if that were clearly obvious.

Your blank stare must’ve clued him in to the fact that the significance of this ‘Infinity Stone’ was lost on you, because he only sighed.

“Rest assured, it’s not something a normal human should be able to do,” he said. “So… what is different about you?”

He stepped closer, and though you knew he couldn’t touch you, you recoiled further into the wall. His stare was piercing, and he clearly enjoyed that it made you squirm.

Finally you mustered up the courage to respond. “I’ve already told this story once today,” you said, sounding more like a petulant child than you meant to.

“Touchy subject?”

“It’s not particularly fun to talk about, no.”

He didn’t move any closer but didn’t relinquish you your space either. He just studied you as if he could discern your entire history from your visual being.

You wondered if you should just turn and walk away, or if he had some way of stopping you. Even more unexpected though, was the realization that you wanted to talk to him, that maybe this conversation could help you in your real life encounter that was to happen soon.

“Why did you approach me in the pub?” you asked, and though it wasn’t the answer he apparently wanted, he looked pleased that you were engaging him now. “I was curious.”

“And when you blasted me with the scepter?”

“I wanted to see what would happen.” He shrugged, as casual as if he were discussing the weather.

“And now that you have? What do you want?”

A beat of silence. Then, “What do you think?”

You thought, if he had had a plan before, your presence must have thrown quite the wrench and that if he were smart, he would be trying to figure out exactly how big and disastrous that wrench would be. “I think you didn’t expect me to be involved.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That is true.” Then a smirk began to form on his mouth and he squinted at you. “They’re planning something with you, aren’t they? Fury and his subordinates.”

Your widened eyes must have been all the answer he needed. How did he know?

With a laugh, “They have so much at their disposal, weapons of mass destruction, all of Stark’s technology, and they defer to the prowess of a child they’ve only just met?” Loki leaned in so close the green of eyes felt overwhelming. “They must be truly desperate.”

A familiar voice, Tony’s, called your name from around the corner, echoing off the metal walls of the hallway. But Loki didn’t move. His eyes remained on you, so sharp and curious, you felt like an animal on a dissection tray.

“Until next we meet, then.”

And with that, he vanished.

“Sparks,” Tony came around to your stretch of hallway. “Thought that was your voice. You lost? Talking to yourself? You know, cabin fever usually takes a lot longer than a few hours to set in.”

Still a little too stunned to speak, you gulped and nodded.

Tony’s eyes narrowed with concern. “You good? Looking a little green around the gills, Pikachu.”

“Yeah… yeah, I’m alright.” Your voice returned to you. “And.. Pikachu? Really?”

Tony wasn’t entirely convinced but seemed to let it go. He shrugged. “I like to change it up-- and are you, or are you not, electrically charged at all times?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. He clapped you on the shoulder.

“Come on,” he turned, waving you to follow him. “Want you to see what we cooked up for ya.”

————

The conducting table was ready. Only a few moments before you stepped into Loki’s cage, the first time you would be in the same physical space as him since he basically almost murdered you.

Cool. All cool. You were definitely not feeling a panic attack setting in. You were definitely breathing at a normal rate and not feeling your lungs seize up in your chest.

“We’ll be right here, if anything goes wrong,” Steve said, laying a hand gently on the back of your shoulder.

“Aye,” Thor said. “I’ll be standing with you.”

There was a stone in your throat as you looked at Loki through the thick glass. He seemed to feel your gaze, and slowly turned to look, grinning when he saw you watching.

Loki’s hands were shackled, sitting on the table in front of two conducting handles, which were mirrored on the other side. The idea was that you both grip them, and you would be able to dig through his mind… theoretically.

“I don’t know if this is going to work,” you said. You felt sweat under your arms, and your face getting hot with anxiety.

Fury eyed you. “Just do what you can.”

The door to his cell whooshed open, and flanking you on either side as you entered were Cap and Thor. Loki regarded them with that same smirk as they entered, soon followed by Fury and Natasha. Tony and Dr. Banner remained on the other side of the glass.

“Is this the best you can do?” He said, his eyes flaring at you. “Insulting, really.”

Fury ignored him, directing you to the empty chair at the other end of the table.

“On my go,” he said, and stood to the right of the table. He pinned Loki with a stare.

Loki shot back a challenging look before his gaze settled on you and his hands moved to grip the handles. “On your go.” And at that moment, in full purview of that slanting grin, you understood why he was called the God of Mischief.

Fury nodded at you.

Now or never.

And, sparing a passing thought to the entropy that was your life and the risks of what you were about to do, you grabbed the handles.

Tags: @purplekitten30 @scorpionchild81 @mjaudrey @srhxpci @the-maroon-panda @lirinstaalem

[deadorcaffeinated]

Sparks, Pt. 3

Pairing: Loki/Reader

Chapter 3: Red Light Goes On and On and On

Chapter Summary: You fill everyone in on where the hell you came from. A plan forms.

A/N: Time to officially meet the Avengers… more Loki in the next chapter!

TW: Talk of violence

(Read first part here)

“Electrical disturbance, some kind of mass outage,” Agent Hill reported.

“She’s a goddamn EMP?”

Fury wished he had something to throw, or more accurately, someone to throw it at. Not only was there already one dangerous variable on the ship, capable of transforming into an unstoppable monster at the drop of a hat, but now he had a motherfucking human EMP who could conceivably drop their ship out of the sky at any moment.

Just another day at the office.

He’d called a meeting as soon as you woke up. There was no time to waste if his theories were correct, and he needed as much information as he could get from you. He’d already sent agents out to check the area that the charge had originated from. Now all that was left was to use your information to fill in the gaps… hopefully, you would be compliant.

For all he knew, you might be some kind of spy, an agent from an opposing intelligence community or government. Though, something about your attire and complete lack of being able to lay low, told him otherwise. You had none of the hallmarks of a seasoned spy. If he were lucky, you might even be an ally.

_____

“I do need to debrief you on a few things before we go into this meeting.”

After complimenting your use of her perfume, Natasha explained to you where you were, and… it was difficult to believe that you were floating thousands of feet in the air. And that the man-- she called him Loki-- was also being held in confinement on the ship, some special kind of cell. It sent a shiver up your spine to know that he was on the craft.

She told you that he was the brother of Thor, reminding you of the incident in New Mexico from a few years ago. Apparently, he had recently stolen an object of immense power and they had yet to recover it. Not only that, but the nifty little scepter he was waving around had been used to put some of their own agents under a form of mind control— and they were still MIA. Every word out of her mouth only served to increase your unease.

Somehow you’d escaped a prison, only to run straight into an inter-world conflict, complete with aliens and mysterious weapons. Typical.

Exasperation must have shown on your face, because Natasha touched your shoulder with a reassuring hand. “I’m sorry. I know it’s a lot to take in at once. But since you’ve faced the brunt of his power already, it only seemed fair to fill you in.”

She winced apologetically, “Plus... I’m afraid we’re about to ask you a lot of questions.”

Natasha let you steady yourself before walking into what seemed to be the huge command center of a spaceship, and you thought immediately of the bridge from Star Trek.

Before you was a table, at which already sat the three men you’d met earlier, along with a black man with an eyepatch, a brunette woman, a balding, white man in a suit, and a muscular blonde who could only be the God of Thunder, Thor. You aren’t ashamed to say that your eyes lingered a bit longer on him than the others.

All of a sudden, the sci-fi insanity of your life came into clear focus, and you stifled a laugh at how absurd everything was. You were literally a science experiment, and these people were gods and superheroes, floating on a huge aircraft carrier complete with it’s own supervillain.

The one-eyed man stood to greet you. “I’m Director Fury, of S.H.I.E.L.D. This is Agent Hill and Coulson,” he nodded to either people on his left and right. “I believe you are already familiar with everyone else at this table.”

Director Fury had the stage presence of someone you felt it was important not to disappoint, larger than life and possessing the utmost authority. If you pulled a photo out of a box labeled ‘super spy’ it would look exactly like the man in front of you.

Scanning their faces, you realized you never got the name of the doctor who was there when you woke up. “I believe I do. Except, I didn’t catch your name. Doctor…?”

“Banner,” he supplied.

The table before you was shaped like an odd, rounded triangle. The chair at the apex was empty and that was where Natasha ushered you to sit, after which, she took the unoccupied chair to your left. On your right were Steve Rogers and Dr. Banner, and on the other side of Natasha sat Tony, fiddling with his phone, but looking up for a second to smile at you. Then, a bit past him, seemingly unwilling to sit, was Thor. He hovered uneasily, his arms crossed, though he did offer you a polite nod in greeting. Directly across from you were the director and his two agents.

Director Fury nodded to Agent Hill, who began her line of questioning.

“You and Loki were in the same pub just hours before he wreaked havoc on that gala. Did he approach you, say anything strange to you?” While she asked you this, Fury’s gaze did not deviate from you. You imagined that this was how it felt to be viewed under a microscope.

“He… Didn’t say anything about it to me. He just... greeted me and bought me a glass of wine. It was strange,” you answered honestly. Hill and Coulson jotted some things down on their respective papers.

Coulson spoke up this time. “You disappeared from the face of the earth about eleven months ago. Can you fill us in on what occurred in that time?”

The gargantuan room somehow seemed to shrink around you. Suddenly, you wanted to run.

No, these people were clearly helping you. Right? Captain America of all people wouldn’t let this organization put you under experimentation again… or so you blindly hoped. Pillar of morality, Steve Rogers. If you could trust anyone, it had to be the only guy trusted with Erskine’s serum.

Coulson spoke your name, catching your attention. “Allow me to say, we’ve looked into your background, and everything paints a picture of a well-adjusted young woman, at least relatively close to her family. You had no disciplinary troubles, your grades were picture perfect, but…”

“I dropped out of college.”

“Yes. And then you disappeared, and no one so much as filed a missing persons report.” Fury said, lacing his hands on the table in front of him. “We aren’t putting you on trial here. We just want to understand how all of this fits.”

You studied your hands, acutely aware of everyone in your periphery. In a small voice you said, “They never filed a missing persons report because it was meant to be a year long program.”

And so you began to tell them everything... How you struggled with an affliction that no doctor would diagnose, starting from your later years in high school and escalating until you dropped out of college.

“It was like I was bombarded by random symptoms or emotions at a rapid rate. I was always exhausted. I was always anxious and depressed. I would get symptoms of cold or flu without having the illness, and according to the doctors, no allergies either. Weird things like that. And it only got worse as I got older.

“And then we received a letter in the mail. A medical program in Germany claimed to have a year-long sort of isolation therapy that could cure the mysterious disease. They didn’t call it by a name, but they listed every symptom I experienced. My parents thought it was a miracle.

“So I flew to Germany. My parents wanted to fly with me, but I told them I’d be fine. I was picked up by a nice car when I got there, the driver was polite enough. They were all polite… Did a great job of keeping up the ruse. Only after initial evaluations, and they had us all divided into separate rooms for a few days, did they give up the illusion that we were there by choice. We were prisoners.”

No one interrupted you while you spoke, and occasionally you registered Coulson or Hill taking a note, the scratch of pen against paper. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed that Tony was no longer on his phone, but staring straight at the table, unmoving. Listening.

“And that wasn’t all. Apparently whatever made us sick was exactly what they were looking for in test subjects. Something about mirror neurons and an overdeveloped anterior insular cortex. Too much empathy. Made us perfect for the sort of testing they were interested in.

“I tried to get out twice, before I actually made it.” You were silent for a while, cueing the others to ask questions. Your cheeks were hot and your heart was fluttering.

“How did you succeed the third time? What was different?” Dr. Banner looked at you, head tilted in curiosity. Next to you, Steve leaned forward slightly in interest, his forehead creased with concern.

“‘Me,” you said. “My abilities were stronger. I didn’t realize how strong until I…”

The flash of a memory skittered across your mind. A burst of light. Your handlers flying back. Every electronic device or light bulb in the vicinity shattering, going dark.

You shook yourself to the present. “They were done experimenting on my body, so they moved on to messing with my mind. They wanted total compliance.”

“What, like mind control?” Stark asked.

You nodded. “Something like that.”

“You still haven’t told us exactly-”

“The EMP,” Fury said, his unblinking, singular gaze aimed at you. “There was an electrical disturbance in the countryside, three days before Stuttgart. That was you.”

They were taking you back to the lab to ‘continue your conditioning’. You were begging them, begging them not to do the treatment again, that you would comply without it, you didn’t need to be wiped. But when your pleas fell on deaf ears, the sounds coming out of you turned animalistic.

You could hear your own cries echoing in your head.

“Yeah,” you answered quietly.

There was a stretch of silence as they waited for you to continue. Part of you was afraid and ashamed to admit what you’d done. Not the EMP, that you hadn’t even thought about-- a total accident-- but your actions afterward.

“It fried my cuffs. My handlers went down. I… I didn’t check to see if they made it,” you shifted your gaze down to the table, unable to look at anyone, fists clenched in your lap. “I just booked it until I was far away. I didn’t stop. Not even to... To help any of the others.”

In front of you, Fury tapped something onto a data pad, and several photos of the compound flew up to occupy the empty space above the table. Every vehicle was gone. “I’ve already sent people to check out the site. Entire damn place is deserted.”

No.

Your heart rate sped up as panic seized you and it was suddenly very hard to breathe, as if you were feeling the true altitude of the ship, and you were falling. Who all had you left to languish in their control? To empty and torment? It was as if the walls of your cell were around you again, closing in, squeezing the life out of you.

A hand touched your shoulder.

“Hey,” It was Natasha. “You did what you had to do to survive.”

“No one is to blame but them.” Steve spoke, the conviction in his voice so palpable, you had no choice but to believe him. And you clung to that strength to keep you from drowning in guilt.

Fury tapped the pad again, and the images disappeared. “I have agents tracking them down. If they drop so much as a crumb, they’ll find them.”

“They have someone,” you said, an urgency in your voice. “He’s the one who brought me in the first two times. Incredibly strong and fast. Enhanced, but I don’t know how. Probably like you.” You dipped your head towards Rogers. “Your agents need to watch out for him.”

Fury’s lips pursed in a way that might have been comical if you weren’t so distressed.

“I’ll let them know.”

“Do you remember any names? Of the doctors, the patients?” It was Coulson, again. And you thought about how, if you slapped some aviators on him, he would look exactly like every FBI agent in every movie ever.

But that thought passed, and images of the other victims flashed through your mind, bringing with them more waves of guilt. “They didn’t really let us speak to each other. We weren’t allowed to mention names, only the numbers they assigned us. At the time, they said it was to protect our own privacy, but it was really only to protect theirs in case one of us got away... I guess it worked.”

“Can you think of any reason that Loki might have approached you at the bar?” Hill asks.

“He probably sensed her power.” Thor spoke up for the first time since you had walked into the room. “Loki possesses a knack for pinpointing power and weakness. Whether that’s in an object or a person.”

“What I want to know is why your brother seems so Happy Gilmore to be on this helicarrier,” Tony said. He glanced around. “Come on, hasn’t anyone noticed? Practically purred at Banner as he went by.”

Dr. Banner raised his eyebrows. “He’s not wrong.”

“I noticed,” Fury confirmed. “Believe me. We’re just working on the ‘why’.”

Everyone seemed to sit in their own thoughts for a moment. During the quiet, you debated whether or not to bring something to the table that could help, but would also potentially put you directly into the warpath that is Loki.

You figured that since you’d already taken a direct attack from him, and you had stumbled into the goddamn middle of all this anyway, what the hell.

“If there’s something you want to know about him… Well, uh, there might be something I can do about that.” All of their gazes fell to you. “I can see into someone’s mind by touching them, or if we’re both touching a conductor. With enough time.”

Your words hung in the air like a bad joke at a comedy club. The only sound was the scribbling of the two agents and the work being done on the floor below.

“You can what?” Fury’s monotone cut through the awkwardness. You swallowed hard.

“Read minds, Nick. Got something in your ears?” Tony cut in, then turned sharply to you. “That is what you're insinuating, right? There’s no ‘gotcha’ at the end of that sentence you forgot to include?”

Somewhere to your other side, Dr. Banner sighed and removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes. “Even so, it’s too dangerous. You can smell crazy on that guy, there’s no telling what tricks he has up his sleeve.” He winced, and looked at Thor. “No offence.”

Thor shrugged. “Loki is full of tricks.”

“If it can save any number of lives down there,” Fury pointed towards the ground, ”Or up here,” he gestured to the ship that surrounded you all,”Then I’m willing to take that chance.” His singular gaze turned to you, again with the sensation that he was drilling into every secret you had.

“Are you?” he asked.

You opened your mouth to respond, but was overtaken by an eruption of words from everyone else.

“That sounds like a bad idea.”

“Again, dangerous.”

“The young lady seems strong.”

“Nick…”

“Sparky seems up to it.”

The flurry of dissent was met with a stern gaze from Director Fury, as he waited for everyone to settle. His eye did not deviate from you, and that one brow was still raised in the question: Well?

“I want to do it,” you said, extracting another murmur from the group. “I saw what he did in Germany. I heard his speech about war and domination. There are still people out there under his control, right?”

Fury nodded. Out of the corner of your eye, Natasha’s head bowed suddenly. Something personal there, you thought.

“Then yes.”

Tags: @purplekitten30 @scorpionchild81 @mjaudrey @srhxpci @the-maroon-panda @lirinstaalem

[deadorcaffeinated]

aaaaaaaaaaaaaa ur sparks series looks so good so far!!!!!!! could u add me to the taglist please???????

Of course! And thank you so much!!

[deadorcaffeinated]

Sparks, Pt. 2

Pairing: Loki/Reader

Summary: Loki is curious about a strange energy he feels before that fateful gala in Germany. He follows it to the source: You.

(Or that one where the Reader has been experimented on, given electricity-based powers, and falls right into the lap of the Avengers… as well as one particular God of Mischief.)

Chapter Two: You, In the Mirror

Summary: As the Avengers try to understand where you came from, you grapple with a few revelations.

A/N: Loki isn't really in this chapter, but don’t worry. More is coming.

TW: Body dysmorphia.

Read chapter one here

Tony and Bruce studied your MRI, specifically the strange scar tissue near the base of your skull, with a dim sort of horror.

“I don’t see a medical reason for these incisions,” Bruce said, his forehead growing more creased with consternation by the second.

Tony tapped his pen against the table with increasing restlessness, Bruce’s analysis doing nothing to soothe his concerns. “From what Rogers told me, it seems like she doesn’t know about his resurrection from the ice. Is there some way she could’ve missed that? Some weird anti-technology, Amish, German convent, or something?”

At that, an icy feeling sank into Bruce’s gut. The woman’s missing knowledge of the public world coupled with her undocumented abilities with electromagnetism and bizarre scar tissue, seemed to confirm his worst fears.

“Look, I was in Calcutta with no direct internet access, no cellphone, and I knew about Cap.” A sardonic edge crept into Bruce Banner’s voice. “Judging by her enhancement, and vitamin D deficiency, I’d say there’s a worse reason she missed out on one of the biggest revelations of the twenty-first century.”

They both glanced at a monitor, the screen of which showed your sleeping form in a hospital bed.

“Yeah. I was hoping that wasn’t it.” Tony’s face was uncharacteristically grim. A departure from his typical carefree affect. Bruce suppressed a shudder at the thought of human experimentation, knowing the consequences all too well. Tony pretended not to notice it.

“JARVIS?”

“Sir?”

“Can I get a facial recognition scan of every CCTV in the area from last night?”

JARVIS affirmed his request, and Bruce wondered what exactly Tony was looking to find in those scans. He raised an eyebrow at him, but Tony only supplied,

“Do we know how long she’s gonna snooze?”

…..

“No missing persons reports?”

Fury wasn’t used to being in the dark about much, but an enhanced individual with this amount of power popping up completely out of the blue was enough to grate on his steel-tipped nerves.

Oh, and not to mention the alien hellbent on world domination also bunking on the carrier. Fury knew with certainty that that S.O.B. had something else up his sleeve, and hated the feeling that he was only playing a waiting game. Hopefully Romanoff would have answers for him before it was too late.

Agent Hill pursed her lips the way that always preceded her delivery of bad news. “Nothing yet, sir.”

…

“Sir, we have a hit.” Coulson called, he was peering over the shoulder of one of their analysts. You appeared in a security tape, pulling a suitcase through a crowded airport, a weary slope to your shoulders. The time stamp— eleven months ago.

“She left on a flight from Houston to Munich, and disappeared from all public cameras and internet engagement until the past three days. Nearly a year, sir.”

The headache between Fury’s eyes intensified. “Any abnormalities before disappearance?”

“No, sir.”

Fury looked from Coulson, to the aggregating pile of disturbing information on his own screens, and his mind started whirring through the possible explanations that might make these disparate puzzle pieces click.

“So what happened in those eleven months?”

…...

When you wake, you are in a panic, bolting upright and ready to fight. And you do fight, at least for the few seconds it takes for the memories of the night before to come rushing back, somewhat like a fever dream.

The hands that stop you from ripping the IV out of your arm, and hurtling towards the doctor checking your vitals, belong to the man you saw in costume fighting the stranger from the bar. The Not-Cap. Except… God, how does he look so much like Steve Rogers?

His gentle hold on your forearms is easy to break, and he doesn’t continue trying to hold onto you when you shake him off, but this only confuses you further. Your eyes dart around frantically. The environment is entirely too familiar, and even after you recognize that you are not in the lab, your mind’s eye keeps shifting between realities. With how strange everything has been since you saw the man in the bar, you are afraid that you really are back in that hellish place, and this is just a mad dream happening between the shock therapies. That they finally succeeded in breaking your psyche.

“Are you alright?” Not Cap asks. You focus on him, blinking the sleep out of your bleary eyes.

Your heart is beating out of your chest, and you feel like a caged animal. Forcing breath into your lungs, you finally manage, “I… Where am I? Who are you?”

The blonde man shares a look with your doctor, who is also the slightest bit familiar to you, though you cannot place him.

“Let’s start with the second question.” A new voice, one that you actually can place speaks from the doorway, and you peer around Not Cap to confirm the bizarre suspicion you have. “Do you know me?”

Your stomach drops when the man comes into your line of vision, and you are right about your assumptions. “Tony Stark.”

You hope no one else hears the sound of your sanity snapping like a rubber band in the back of your skull.

His eyebrows raise in pleasant surprise. “And him?” he points to the blonde man in front of you.

Studying his face, you are afraid to say what you think. Afraid they may laugh, transform into the scientists who studied you, and reveal the whole thing has been an experiment.

“I don’t know who you are,” you say, and the man’s eyebrows knit together at your admission. “But… you look… God, you look exactly like the actual Captain America. Like from the forties.”

At that, the three men all share a look that makes you itch. It seems calculating but… worried, somehow? You can’t help but pipe up. “What?”

“Do you remember what happened to Steve Rogers towards the end of World War II?” The doctor’s voice is soft, calming. Or, it would have been if your world view weren’t shifting on its head at the current moment. You nod your head to his question. “A few months ago, his plane was found in the Arctic. And him too. He was… Still alive.”

The doctor’s eyes flick between you and the man next to you. Your jaw drops at what they are insinuating, and you turn to lock eyes with the person who should’ve been dead for seventy years. His features are twisted into an almost… apologetic expression.

“What we don’t understand is… How you didn’t know about him,” says Stark. “When the news broke, it was all anyone talked about for weeks. One of the biggest discoveries of the last twenty years, and yet…” He gestured towards you with one hand. “You had no clue until this moment. So… How does that happen?”

Oh.

For a second, you stupidly consider lying, of telling some tall tale about being secluded in the wilderness away from society and internet and cell service-- all because something in you is unreasonably terrified of the punishment that might befall you if you gave away their secret.

You push down the strange paranoia. They don’t have you at their mercy anymore. Besides… if Captain America and Tony Stark were truly standing in front of you right now, maybe they could put a stop to what the lab was doing.

You look up from your thoughts to find all three of them staring at you expectantly.

“It’s… kind of a long story.”

“Best to save it for the Director. Don’t want to have to tell it twice.” A woman strode into the room, carrying something in her hands that you couldn’t identify. She had red hair, wore a black, tactical catsuit and… was one of the most beautiful people you’d seen in quite a long time. “I’m Agent Romanoff, with S.H.I.E.L.D.”

She smiles warmly at you and places what she was carrying at the foot of your bed: a pile of neatly folded fabrics. “A change of clothes,” she says, then regards all three men in turn. “Director Fury is calling a meeting in thirty minutes.”

They take that as a cue to leave the room, though Steve lingers for a moment. He regards you with something soft in his eyes, and your heart almost twists at the compassion of a stranger.

“I know how overwhelming all of this can be, believe me,” he says, ”But you can trust us, okay?”

You don’t know about that. Him, you already felt a thread of trust towards— he was Captain America for godsake— but… this facility? This S.H.I.E.L.D.? The jury is still out.

But instead of voicing any of this, you simply dip your chin in a weak nod, and he leaves you alone with Agent Romanoff.

“Would you like to wash up? I can show you the facilities,” Agent Romanoff offers.

You feel your cheeks heat up again, thinking of how you must look right now, especially in front of someone so attractive. The thought of seeing your own reflection fills you with apprehension… in the last year, you had not seen yourself but in slivered reflections of random glass or metal, as the lab did not allow mirrors in patients�� rooms. Then, when you’d escaped and found a public restroom, you had avoided all mirrors like the plague.

Agent Romanoff notices your hesitation. “Hey,” she says, “It’s okay. I can help you with anything you need. Come on, I’ll be with you the whole time.” She offers a hand to you, which you slowly take, and she helps you out of your bed.

“But also, if you tell me to get lost, I’ll do that too.” She chuckles softly, and though you don’t laugh, you are grateful for her friendliness.

She shows you the showers, and leaves you with two bags of toiletries-- one that is a simple navy, and the other that is a colorful, floral print. She points to the second one, “This one is mine, you are welcome to anything in there. The standard issue one doesn’t come with a hairbrush.”

She scrunches her nose, as if the neglect to include a hairbrush is a crime of some sort, and this does earn a smile from you.

“I’ll be right outside if you need me.” She starts to leave.

“Thank you, uh, Agent,” you say.

With another smile (you notice she tends to smile with just one side of her mouth, which is very appealing), she offers, “You can just call me Natasha, if you like.”

When she shuts the door, you look at the shower like it might bite you. Hot showers feel like something you did in a dream life, as the warmest they allowed in the lab was barely above freezing-- something about how the heat discouraged the buildup of static electricity that was important to their tests.

Spurred on by spite alone, refusing to let your thoughts hold you back, you jump in and fiddle with the knobs until the water coming out of the showerhead is hot enough to give off steam. You sigh into the heat, and it’s so pleasurable, you nearly forget that you’re there to bathe.

After washing your hair and scrubbing every inch of skin on your body until you are nearly raw, you finally decide to get out of the shower. Cool air meets your face and you drink it in, wrapping a towel around your body.

And then, the mirror.

Your hair is longer than you remember. The contours of your face are exaggerated and gaunt, your skin having taken on an unhealthy pallor. Slowly, you lift the towel away to take in the state of your body, trembling as you do. You’d never seen yourself this thin before, and you’re taken aback by the way your ribs and hips show themselves in a way they never have. You look like a husk of someone you used to know.

Something in you wants to break. You feel like doubling over but you just stand there, alone, staring numbly at someone you do not recognize. Forcing yourself to return to your body, you ground yourself by trying to identify feelings, sounds, smells— a technique you had often used in the labs to calm yourself. You turn away from the mirror.

Eventually, you regain enough control to dress yourself, and do not look into the mirror again until you have covered your body once more. The clothes Natasha gave you are a plain black long sleeve shirt, and simple olive green pants with a drawstring at the top. You’re grateful for her choice in your attire, and notice there are also socks and a pair of boots by the door. Tactical and standard military issue, by the look of them. Better than your ratty pair of canvas slide-ons from the institution, at any rate.

You peak into Natasha’s bag just out of curiosity. She has a refined taste, as it is lined with what you know to be high end products, but there are two items in particular that really catch your eye: a facial moisturizer and a sample-sized bottle of perfume.

You squeeze out a small, pearl sized dollop of the moisturizer, delighting in the feeling as it glides over your skin. After that is done, you dab a tiny bit of her perfume onto your wrists. The scent of it washes over you, and you marvel at Natasha’s excellency in choice once more, trying to identify the notes of the divine perfume. It is a balance of light fruit and florals, with a musky woodsiness hiding underneath. Cedar, jasmine, apple, amber…

With a start, you realize you feel… somewhat like yourself again.

With a new resolve, you go to the door to meet Natasha.

Tags: @purplekitten30 @scorpionchild81 @mjaudrey @srhxpci

[deadorcaffeinated]

Sparks

Pairing: Loki/Reader

Summary: Loki is curious about a strange energy he feels before that fateful gala in Germany. He follows it to the source: You.

(Or that one where the Reader has been experimented on, given electricity-based powers, and falls right into the lap of the Avengers… as well as one particular God of Mischief.)

Chapter One: Or, How Everything Erupted

Chapter Summary: You’ve escaped the facility holding you captive in the German country side. You’re using your enhanced abilities to get by, but what now? Where can you possibly go?

TW: Talk of forced experimentation.

It was your third day on the lam.

Well, ‘on the lam’ might not be the most accurate descriptor, since you weren’t technically a fugitive of the law. Not really. You were on the run, but what you were running from… That was a different kind of agency.

You glanced around the pub. No one seemed suspicious. No one held too much interest in you beyond a confused brow or two, probably due to your ill-fitting clothes (thieves can’t be choosers) and wild hair (you would need to find a hair brush soon). Still, the line of your shoulders was taut with the fear that someone would be watching, waiting until you were alone.

Your first two attempts to escape the lab went about as poorly as you could imagine. A shiver went down your spine at the thought of those particular aftermaths. Memories of the man you only saw when he had to drag you back, his face covered except for those empty eyes, lined with black, flooded your mind. Unnatural strength and heedless violence.

Suddenly, it felt very, very cold and your ‘borrowed’ sweater did little to beat back the chill.

It was better you’d escaped when you did, anyway. The abilities imbued on you were the very ammunition that had aided your freedom and allowed you to survive. And would continue to help you survive until, hopefully, you could get back to the US.

But should you go home? They would definitely be looking. And they would certainly go to your family’s house first. But as long as you weren’t there, they had no reason to harm them.

We’ll find you, Subject 7. Everytime. You know we will.

No, you couldn’t go home.

For now.

_____

As they prepared to acquire the iridium, Loki felt a pull he didn’t quite understand. A strange pulsating energy tingled against his senses and he couldn’t help but follow the sensation to the source. It led him to a small tavern just a couple of blocks down from the gala.

The night was chilly, but the pub was bustling and warm. People shared laughter and conversation in concert with the clinking of glass and the sounds of some Midgardian sport broadcast on the televisions.

It was a young feminine person at the bar, he realized as he scanned, that was surrounded by the crackling aura he had been drawn to. Or was it the scepter that was curious? He could hardly discern its will from his own anymore. His… benefactor would want answers, he reasoned; the Mad Titan was always on the search for power.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

The woman looked at him with wide eyes, eyes that were shadowed underneath by exhaustion. She looked completely bedraggled, her hair tangled, her clothes hanging awkwardly on her body in such a way that might lead most to believe she was a vagrant. He wondered what her story was.

All he had to do to find out was touch her. With a touch, he could read people like books. But naturally, she would be completely aware of his magic if he were to do that, and he couldn’t give up his identity just yet. Soon.

He allowed none of this to show on his face, of course. Only a polite smile. There was a wariness in the woman’s expression when she took in Loki’s form, her gaze catching curiously on his long hair. She shifted slightly in her stool to address him.

“I’m afraid I won’t be very talkative company,” she said.

He slid into the unoccupied seat at the bar next to her, adjusting his long coat. “And why is that?”

She shrugged. “Don’t have a lot to talk about.”

“Quiet company is highly underrated,” Loki said, giving her a smile. “What do you drink?”

Taken off guard by his interest in her, the woman’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. Loki pretended not to notice, instead opting to scan the array of wines behind the bar. Though after a moment, she seemed to give up on her study of him, heaving a resigned sigh. “Anything with alcohol in it.”

Loki chuckled, and ordered two of whatever was the finest red wine they had.

“Where do you work?” she asked suddenly. Loki regarded her with friendly curiosity, unsure why she would ask that particular question after seeming so standoff-ish.

He easily produced a lie. “I’m a curator for an art museum.”

Strangely, the woman’s shoulders relaxed at his answer. Nodding, “Ah.”

“What?”

“Well…” She looked embarrassed now. “You have an artsy look?”

His body shook with a genuine laugh, and he sipped his wine. Realizing that she had not touched her own yet, he quirked a brow at her and flicked his eyes to her glass. “Is it not to your liking?”

“Oh.” She seemed to be surprised at the wine in front of her, and carefully looped her fingers under the stem to cup the glass, treating it as if it were a wild animal that might lash out and bite. This amused him. Were all MIdgaridians so peculiar and he simply hadn’t noticed?

She sipped. “Oh. Oh. Oh, wow.” Another sip. “This is honestly the best wine I’ve ever had…. And also probably the most expensive.” A nervous huff of a laugh escaped her lips.

By all accounts, the girl appeared normal, at least physically. Loki could not discern any magicks, nor could he see any other enhancements from the outside, and yet that static in the air prickled at his senses and he knew there was something about her that was different. The mind stone hummed appreciatively at his thoughts. A delicious mystery.

“I’m glad I could be of service.” Loki gave her a dazzling grin.

______

Only after the stranger finished his cup of wine and left the pub, did you realize that you hadn’t even thought to ask his name.

Odd. His hair. His formal way of speaking. The strange walking cane topped with a cased gem so blue it nearly glowed. All odd.

He hadn’t asked for your name, either. You were sure he was going to be one of those strange, overconfident men who bought you a drink and expected your number and a date in return, but even after the wine, he simply bid you a good night and swept out of the establishment-- almost as if he were in a hurry.

You shook your head, trying to physically expel the confusion. If you became distracted for too long at the wrong moment, it could mean captivity and punishment. Being caught.

No. Never again.

You had more to worry about than some odd stranger.

____

The heist was a success. Barton secured the iridium, and now Loki could finally reveal himself to the Midgardians as their soon-to-be leader.

He was expecting the Earth’s so-called protectors to show their faces at any moment and apprehend him, as was the plan. The information he’d been shown was enough to know that these people might have power, but by no terms did they have cohesion. Quite the opposite. Their world views would clash so harshly, everything would implode around them-- and Loki was going to be there when it happened.

What he didn’t expect was the girl.

The same one from the pub, with the strange humming energy. She stood before him now, begging him to spare the defiant old man’s life.

How curious.

____

“Stop!”

The stranger’s blazing eyes found you outside of the crowd, and when his sentinels’ gazes followed, a shiver ran up your spine.

“A volunteer?” He said, appraising you. The golden horns and armour were a stark contrast to the sleek lines of his dark suit from earlier this evening, but those sharp features and long hair were difficult to mistake. You knew it was the man from the pub.

And from the look on his face, he remembered you too. The man smiled.

“Very well.” He raised the scepter, as a ball of energy crackled down the length of it.

God, you hoped this worked.

You held up your hands, as if surrendering, but braced your legs for an assault. Electricity wound around your arms and fingers, hot and blindingly white, webbing across and meeting each other, until they formed what looked like a net. Or a shield.

Either this works, or I fry like toast.

The familiar pops and whines characteristic of your power sounded in your ears, reminiscent of standing under a powerline.

Loki sends the scepter’s energy careening towards you with a savage strike of his hand.

____

Concrete under your cheek. You force your eyes open to find blobs of color and motion. Red. White. Blue. Flashes of light.

The crowd had dispersed, and to your relief, you saw no bodies on the ground— besides your own.

When your eyes adjust, you wonder if you’re dreaming.

The armored man was fighting with impossible strength against someone dressed as… Captain America? Shield and all. Either someone was playing an elaborate and early Halloween prank, or a cosplayer was taking their role very seriously.

Or maybe he actually had killed you and this was some bizarre purgatory.

There is a loud whirring above you, and craning your neck, you find a rather advanced jet, stalling in the air as if it were a helicopter. Giving you no time to wrap your head around what was going on, a new figure bursts onto the scene, bringing with him what you slowly identified as an AC/DC song. The blur of red landed, and shapes parsed themselves into the unmistakable visage of… Iron Man?

Yeah. You were definitely dead. This was a death dream...

“Miss?”

The Not Captain America is suddenly crouching in front of you. Strange. At this distance, even his face is a perfect replica of the original man. But it isn’t possible, that man had put himself in a plane, and crashed that plane into the ocean- a freezing ocean- a very long time ago.

“You really look like him. It’s weird.” Your words are slurred.

Not-Cap furrows his brows at your comment, but plows forward. “You need medical attention. Is it alright if I pick you up?”

Not in any state to disagree, you give him a weak nod. If you were already dead, where’s the harm?

He scoops you into his arms as if you weigh nothing.

____

“She the enhanced?” Natasha’s voice calls from the cockpit.

Steve gingerly places your body in one of the seats, taking care not to brush against you in any innappropriate way as he straps you in. “Yes,” he says, wrapping a rolled up shock blanket around your neck to keep your head from being jostled by the jet’s turbulence.

“So, she really absorbed Rock of Ages’ energy blast?” Tony was talking to Steve, but casting a raised brow at Loki, who remained uncharacteristically quiet. It set Steve on edge. Smooth talkers like him were only silent when they were cooking something up.

He glanced at his own team’s silver tongued mouthpiece. “She did,” Steve’s eyes were trained on Loki now as well. “Some kind of force field from her hands.”

“I thought SHIELD kept a database on people with these particular party tricks?” Tony raised his voice, aiming the question at Nat.

Steve marvelled at how simultaneously very alike and unlike Tony and his father were. He had been surprised to find out that Howard had a son in the first place, never regarding his womanizing friend as the child-rearing type. But Tony had his father’s brains, perhaps even more, from what Steve was told of his technological innovations.

Natasha only tossed a tense glance over her shoulder in response. Steve sensed some history between the two, and hoped it wouldn’t interfere with the mission, and hoped harder that he would never have to hear about it.

Something was still bothering him.

“She said ‘You really look like him’,” he looked at Tony, whose brow furrowed in response. “When I approached her.”

The gears spun fast in Tony’s head, and he easily caught the question Steve was raising. “Huh,” he looked at the girl. “Thought the entire world knew about Captain America’s miraculous un-retirement.”

There was the barest hint of something hostile in voice that Steve didn’t quite understand. To his knowledge, he had never done anything to offend Stark. He’d just met him. Hell, he even admired him; only someone with real tenacity could reinvent the wheel as Stark so apparently did on a regular basis. Sure, he was arrogant, but Steve had seen that same façade in many of his fellow soldiers, and it almost always hid some kind of insecurity. Didn’t make him a bad guy-- he’d definitely met worse.

“Maybe she doesn’t watch the news,” Steve said.

“Gotta be one dense rock she lives under to miss that.” Tony’s voice took on a skeptical tilt, but lost the harsh edge from before. “News or no news.”

Steve nodded. His face had been plastered in every corner of every newspaper, mag, and that World Wide Web thing. He hadn’t known what that last part meant until recently, and from what he was told, nearly all young people were very familiar with this technology. By all accounts, the woman should have known of his return.

“JARVIS, I’m gonna need a scan.” But as Tony lifted his arm to perform it, a crack of thunder shook the jet. Suddenly, there was turbulence and cloud cover where just seconds before had been stars and clear sky.

“Where’s this coming from?” Nat questions aloud, peering through the windshield.

Steve and Tony share a look before both turn pointedly to check if Loki, still strapped down and handcuffed, had somehow orchestrated the change. Instead, they find the god of mischief wide-eyed.

“Scared of a little lightning?” Steve quipped, and was surprised to see Tony’s approving smirk out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m not overly fond of what follows.”

“Well, that’s delightfully cryptic,” Tony mutters. “Say, got any other stupid-”

His words are cut off by a heavy thump on the roof of the jet.

[deadorcaffeinated]

and here’s the ao3 link!