eleniblue

[eleniblue]

How Like A Winter Your Absence Has Been, What Freezings Have I Felt | Loki x Asgardian!Reader

Learning that Asgard has been destroyed you follow the Asgardians to Midgard, crash landing in a Norweigian forest. When Loki is sent to collect you old hurts are raised, new hurts are healed and an understanding is found.

Warnings: soppy snow based shinanigans, sort of friends to lovers with an enemies to lovers vibe, hurt/comfort, reader is hurt and needs stitches. Kissinngggg.

Loki calls reader 'Vennen' which is a term of endearment, between friends and lovers, but can be seen as patronising in the wrong tone or context.

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Masterlist | Loki Masterlist

The sullen silence filling the cabin of the car weighed heavy on Loki’s shoulders. It’d been years since you’d seen each other, before Ragnarok, before Odin had left Asgard. Years. And yet the familiar awkwardness of your presence still ate at him. 

In the passenger seat you fidgeted. Frustrated that your return had ended like this, helpless in a Norwegian forest you’d never visited, returning to a home you’d never seen. News had travelled slowly across the galaxies, but as soon as you’d heard that Asgard had fallen you’d been trying to return. Your ship had fought you all the way, trying to set a course to a world that existed only as errant space dust and you’d floated there, fighting off the creatures that crawled among its ruins, until you’d received word of a new settlement, here on Midgard. 

It hadn’t surprised you, both brothers had always been obsessed with the place and, driving through the night, flashes of snow carved out of the darkness by the moon, you could understand why. Norway was a beautiful land. 

“So, you still can’t pilot your ship.” Loki’s voice cut through the silence and you huffed in response. 

“I’m not the one who blew up a planet. It’s not built for landing in Midgard’s atmosphere, how was I to know it’d start burning up.” You looked out of the window, how dare he make jokes about Ragnarok, how dare he. 

“I doubt the builders will be able to salvage it.” 

“I don’t care, leave me alone.” 

It was Loki’s turn to huff out a laugh, “you intend to walk back to New Asgard, vennen? Be our guest, I care not.” 

He slowed down as the endless skies opened and a new flurry of snow swirled around the car. 

If he could’ve chosen a way to spend a cold, snowy night before Solstice Loki would’ve chosen reading by the fire or drinking with Val and Thor. Maybe even an evening’s walk on the cliffs. He certainly would not have taken Thor’s Avenger’s issue Land Rover to trawl through miles of empty forest, but looking for you, that was a task that he had felt was his and his alone. So why was spending this much time alone together, in a confined space, when you hadn’t seen each other for eons, making his skin feel tight. 

“Then why did you come?” 

“Because despite Thor’s abdication I still owe a duty to my people, I would never leave an Asgardian stranded.” He kept his eyes on the road ahead, he knew if he turned you’d be looking at him with those beautiful eyes, studying him in that way that always made him nervous, and his eyes twinkled at the thought of you rattled. “Besides, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease you mercilessly while you have no escape.” He chuckled, but stopped abruptly when you made a noncommittal noise in return and turned back to your window, sliding a hand into your jacket. . 

The car jostled again, wheels catching in the patchy road. You’d been able to land your ship well enough outside of New Asgard to not hurt anyone, somewhere in the vastness of the forest, but it had been a bumpy landing after a harrowing few weeks free falling through the devastation of your home. You were in no mood for teasing, even if you had missed that glint in Loki’s eye, the way his smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. It had been too long to dwell on that now, you were here to settle with the rest of your people and that was the extent of it. It was nothing to do with Loki at all. 

Another noise escaped your lips as the road took a sharp turn and this time Loki noticed, turning his head slightly, you refused to think about the way the upturned collar of his coat emphasised the sharpness of his cheekbones. Why would you care about such a thing anyway?

“Are you injured, vennen?” 

“No.” 

“Are you certain, you made a noise?” 

“Do you not think me capable of assessing my own bodily needs?” You snapped, digging your fingernails into your palms in an effort to stave off the groaning pain in your side. 

“As you wish.” He sighed, holding a hand up as if in surrender and turning his eyes back to the road, now turning this way and that as it made its way back down the mountainside. At each turn the wheels of the car span in the mud and snow caked along the side of the road, and each time you stifled your pain. 

The road evened out again and Loki put his foot down, slush and snow spraying up the sides of the 4 x 4 as he sped through the night. 

“Careful, Loki, we’ll -” your warning was cut short, the back two wheels fishtailed, dragging the car across the road in a wide circle before coming to a stop. Loki hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. 

“By the norns, this infernal fucking machine!” He griped.  

“I told you to - “

“Yes, yes.” He lowered his forehead to the wheel and took a deep breath. “Let me inspect it.” 

He opened the door, bracing against the gust of wind whipping up the open path the road made through the otherwise dense forest. The door closed with such finality that for a moment you were alone again, suspended in the debris of a former life and wishing for home. You couldn’t take the silence and, though your skin stretched painfully around your injuries, you opened your door too. 

Loki ran his fingers through his hair, leaving the long dark waves spiked and tangled to be played with by the wind. There was a huge patch of ice in the middle of the road leading back up the mountain. He placed one hand on the back window to steady himself, his mind reeling, he could’ve hurt you. In his haste to get back to the village he could’ve hurt you. 

The slamming of the door echoed through the trees and he looked up to see you shivering in the snow. You were dressed for space, not for Norway, fitted leather leggings and tunic hugging every familiar curve of your body, he only had to glance at you to remember the feel of you when you’d last sparred in Asgard, your waist corseted beneath his palms, the beat of your heart so close to his, your breath, ghosting over his lips before you’d pulled away abruptly and left him lying there in the dirt. 

Your only sensible clothes were your boots, heavy and solid, and your jacket, padded and warm against the cold of your spaceship, but not the biting ice of a Norwegian winter. 

Loki looked away, the car wasn’t buried in the snow or stuck in the mud, it would be fine with a shove. But when he looked up you had gone, your footprints leading to the edge of the forest. 

He followed, concerned, despite your warrior training. Loki breathed a sigh of relief when he saw you brushing snow from the needles of a fir tree, pressing the flakes into a small ball. His mouth lifted at the corner, so it was going to be snowballs, he could play that game. Loki’s magic shimmered as he gathered snow into a perfectly formed sedir built snowball, but paused. Instead of turning and throwing it, as he expected, you lifted the ice to your face, wincing. His hand opened and the snowball fell to the permafrost with a dull thud. 

“Loki,” you looked surprised, dropping your ice as well and wiping your face with the sleeve of your jacket. 

“What happened to your face? Why are you icing it?”

“Nothing, it’s nothing. Can we leave? Is this thing broken? The carar?” You eyed it warily and it occurred to Loki that despite all your time travelling in space, you’d never actually been to Midgard. “It doesn’t appear to be very sturdy considering the conditions.”

“The car,” he smiled, “is fine. Your chariot awaits, my lady.” He opened the door and you allowed him to help you back into the passenger seat, if only to hide your other injuries. 

Loki kicked the snow from the tires and used a gust of magic to blow the snow from the solid mud beneath before returning to the car. 

“I have become accustomed to the ways of this planet over many years and I forget that for you, this is your first visit.” he said, quietly, as soon as the road evened out again,

Loki never took his eyes from the road, but you saw the subtle twitch in his jaw, knew the movement all too well, he couldn’t say sorry, but he would admit his faults in his own way and hope that you forgave him. 

“Everything is new here.” You answered, quietly, an acceptance of his statement, no acknowledgement of his apology. 

The next bend was more gentle and Loki took the angle slowly, but you still hissed, biting your lip to hide the pain. 

“You have hurt yourself.”

“It’s nothing.” 

“If it were nothing, you would be silent.” Loki raised an eyebrow, peering ahead into the dark night and spotting a gravelled area away from the road with a picnic bench, bin and parking space.

 He’d spotted it on the way out too, there’d been a few cars parked there with their headlights on, a group of friends in huge coats and hats sharing a flask of something steaming hot and toasting each other. Now, in the darkness, there was none of the warmth of their gathering left, but at least there was a quiet. 

Loki put his arm over the back of your seat, his palm flat on the wheel as he reversed the Land Rover into the middle space, and you pressed your knees together at the memory of his hands on the tiller of the flying faerings as you raced them between the pillars of the bridges on Asgard. He had the same easy grace, his fingers dancing on the metal as they did over the leather of the wheel. You squeezed harder, ignoring that same building of fire and need you’d experience then as well. This was nothing, there was nothing, between the two of you. He had been sent as a courtesy, you had arrived because you had nowhere else to go. 

“Let me look.” He ordered, removing his seat belt and pushing his seat back so he could turn to face you properly. 

“No, it’s under my shirt.” You protested, pressing your hand harder into your rib. “Besides, it’s probably just broken. I’ll bandage it when you take me to my lodgings.” 

“Move your hand.” His voice had dropped slightly, more akin to the Princely demands you were used to him making, his eyes were dark, the sharp angle of his cheekbones picked out by the harsh interior light. 

“You can’t order me about, Loki, you’re not in charge here.” 

“I am still concerned, please, let me see.” Those dark eyes softened, and he reached his hand out to pull your jacket away from your body. Between your fingers the soft brown and bronze of your tunic had turned maroon, the bloom of blood soaking through like watercolour. “You’re bleeding.” His eyes roved from the poppy shaped stain emerging from beneath your fingers to your face. “You’re bleeding and you kept this from me.” 

“It’s nothing, I’ll fix it later.” 

“It’s not nothing, please let me help you.” He tugged on your sticky fingers, the residue of your blood staining his own long digits and for a moment you allowed his hand to hold your own and then - 

“I don’t need your help,” you snatched it back. 

“Please, let me -” 

“No.” 

“I can fix it for you, I can help.” 

“I don’t need your help, Loki. I don’t - I don’t need it, I learned to live without you.” You stormed, tugging your coat back around you to hide the evidence of your injury. Even facing the window you could see his stunned face behind you, reflected in the darkness beyond. 

“You learned to live without me?” Loki sighed, his shoulders sagging under the weight of your words. “Vennen -” 

“Don’t call me that, don’t call me that when you know we are not friends, I am nothing to you and -” 

Loki reached across the centre console of the car to touch your shoulder but you flinched, eyes staring out at the road again, unable to look at Loki or his reflection. 

“How can you say that?” Loki withdrew again, brows furrowed, “how could you think you are nothing to me?” 

“Where were you?” You rounded on him, “where were you that was so much more amusing than being with us, I thought you dead and gone, I thought you buried on some fearful planet far from Valhalla for all eternity, I thought I would never see you again in this life or the next and - and - and you have the audacity to collect me like some lost thing on this planet and expect me to fall in step beside you as always, well. No more. No more, Loki. I don’t need you. Take me to see the King and leave me there as you always do.” Tears spilled over your cheeks, dropping in heavy splashes on your hands as you bent to hide your angry sobbing. But the movement only caused further pain, blood spilling from under your tunic onto your lap.

In a moment Loki was by your side, the car door open and his arms wrapped around you, holding you close to his chest as he carried you to the back of the vehicle. He set you down gently, opening the door at the back and sitting you on the open ledge. 

“I must tend to this wound now, before it gets worse. They don’t have the same technology here yet, our doctors -” he paused, swallowing down the guilt that he couldn’t have saved more of his people during Ragnarok and quashed the feeling for another day, “we are short on doctors, should something happen to the wound -” he trailed off, opening a small green box that had been hooked onto the door. 

He warred with himself, fighting down the urge to defend all that he’d done, the pain it had caused him to leave his friends and family for so long. 

“Fine.” You conceded and pulled your tunic up as high as you could, revealing the large gash in your side. Norns, it was worse than you’d thought, curving around your side, over a rib or two and down towards the top of your trousers. 

Loki’s touch was gentle as he mopped up the blood, wringing the cloth clean with his magic until he could see each side of the cut clearly. Every touch made goosebumps erupt on your skin, the tingle of his magic mixing with the softness of his touch, the warmth of his fingers.

 “What happened to you?” 

“I told you, my ship is supposed to stay in space, it’s not supposed to enter the atmosphere.” 

It had begun burning up on entry, flames licking up the sides of the small craft and you’d squeezed your eyes shut, bracing against the inevitable fall. You didn’t remember the landing, only waking up with your own blood on your hands, shards of metal surrounding you and feeling colder than you ever had before. 

“We should have sent someone to meet you,  I - I apologise.” Loki kept his eyes cast down, long fingers fiddling with a needle and thread. 

“Yes, you should have.” You looked down at him, crouched by your legs in the snow, the ice no doubt biting through his leathers already and he looked up, eyes wide and wet with unhushed tears. 

“I am, truly, sorry, for what I made you go through. Please, will you forgive me?” He set the now threaded needle down on its sterile tray and placed his hands on your thighs instead, his hands were cold now, but a wave of warm sedir washed over you, brushing away the shivers wracking your body. 

“Maybe, Loki -” 

“I know, I have a lot of apologising to do, I don’t deserve your forgiveness-” 

But he was considering it, it was the first time you’d ever heard the words uttered from him, and it made your heart yearn for the safe harbour of his friendship again, even if you knew better than to believe the storms were over. 

“It’s not that, it just, it still hurts, I want to forgive you, but it still hurts.” 

A frozen tear held steady in the corner of his eye, but he nodded in understanding. 

“Can you at least forgive me the pain this will cause,” he tipped his head towards the needle, “I can numb you as much as possible, but I have no doubt it will sting.” With a flourish he produced a cut glass with a healthy measure of whisky inside, “drink this first.” 

You downed the burning amber in one gulp, allowing it to warm you deeply and nodded. Loki stood, that familiar glimmer of gold and green drying his wet legs and knees, removing the snow that clung to his coat. 

“Lay back,” he removed his coat and folded it, placing it under your head as he helped you lean into the boot of the car. Prone and cold with your tunic shucked up to your armpits you felt ridiculous and exposed, but there was no teasing when Loki asked if you were happy for him to start. 

The first stitch was the most painful, but his cold fingers made your skin numb as he worked quickly and steadily until the aching pain was at least unaccompanied by the hot seeping of your blood through your fingers. 

Loki stood back, surveying his work in the cold white light from the tiny bulb in the car’s interior, and brushed his damp hair back from his face. “Does that feel better?” 

“Yes, thank you.” Swiftly you pulled your tunic down, and shuffled to sit on the ledge of the boot again, feet hanging off the edge. 

Loki left you like that, pacing away from the car and surveying the road ahead. The snowfall had increased since you stopped and the drifts were now encroaching further into the already narrow track. It would be a treacherous trip back down the rest of the mountain. 

“I think we should camp here tonight.” He said, steadily, though his heart beat wildly beneath his sweater. 

“Loki, it’s freezing cold, below freezing.”

“It’s one of my brother’s friends’ cars.” Loki said, flippantly, as if that explained anything at all instead of raising a hundred new questions. 

You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to elaborate. 

“It has - things - inside. He spent some time with the Avengers? You must have heard of them, terribly annoying, but I must say their accessories are very helpful.” He stared at you waiting for you to understand. 

“You and Thor and your little Midgardians,” you laughed, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but let's see these accessories that will keep us warm in a car in the snow.” 

Loki stretched out his hand, helping you get your feet back on the ground. You felt dizzy after your stitches and the no doubt centuries old whisky Loki had conjured for you, but he held your arm politely while he walked you over to a picnic bench. 

“Settle here and all will be revealed.” 

He allowed himself a smile and, unbidden, you smiled too. It was hard to remain angry when this was all you’d wanted for so long, this adventure into the unknown was exactly what you’d been missing. 

Loki ruffled his hair again in thought before pushing the long, icy strands away from his face. He examined the car, then pushed the rear seats down flat. With a hum they fell forwards, creating a wide flat platform. He pulled at another lever and the carpeted floor flipped over, revealing a padded mattress beneath. 

You laughed in shock, what funny contraptions these Midgardians had. Loki allowed his smile to linger, listening to the tinkle of your laugh in the quiet woodland, it echoed and returned to you both ten fold until you were both laughing. He pulled again and a second mattress appeared so that the entire back of the car was now a bed. 

He shut the door to conserve the heat inside and used the step at the side of the car to reach into the roof box, pulling out a metal box. 

“That’s quite the trick, Loki.” You conceded, still smiling at the simple joy of it. To hide a bed inside a vehicle, you couldn’t help another giggle. 

“Well, it comes in very handy when I find myself stranded in the wilderness,” he winked, opening the tin box and extracting an odd metal item, cups, a small pan and what looked like powdered food. 

“What’s that?” You wrinkled your nose as he flicked something on the side, pumping a few times and then allowing a spark of magic to dance across the circular top. Fire erupted from between the spokes of the circle and you jumped backwards in shock before bursting out into another uncontrollable laugh. “Loki! What is that?!” 

“It’s a camping stove, I thought we could make hot chocolates.” He looked over shyly now, a peace offering. 

“That doesn’t look like chocolate,” you picked up one of the brown packets, on the front was a picture of a steaming mug, but inside was definitely powder and not solid chocolate. 

“It’s a sort of powdered drink, I need to get some water.” 

“Not cream?” 

“That would spoil the fun, would it not?” He grinned, pouring water into the pan from his canteen. 

As he worked you wound your jacket tighter around yourself, wondering if your nose was frozen or if it was normal to not be able to feel it. After a few minutes he lifted the pan from the odd round fire and poured the contents into the enamel mugs, handing one to you. 

Warily you sniffed it and then took a tentative sip, it was fine, you supposed, “it tastes nicer with cream.” 

Loki’s smile turned indulgent and, in a swirl of green, a silver bowl appeared settled in the snow atop the picnic bench, laden with heavy, whipped cream. Delighted you spooned out a generous helping and stirred it into your drink. Sipping it slowly before turning your eyes back to Loki. 

He looked resplendent in the moonlight, snow glittering over his night black clothes, the sweater only accentuating his broad shoulders and lean waist. You longed to wrap your arms around him and press yourself into his embrace, to feel as close as you once had. Everything felt different now, you had spent so much time apart that the idle games of your shared youth were just a distant memory. 

“We should get back in the car.” He announced. Now that he’d accomplished all the practical tasks that he could think of to help you, he found himself lost for words. Your admission that he had left you, failed you, somehow was a deep and painful wound. He hadn’t intended to leave and never return, he had always meant to stay and yet some force always dragged him away. It had even dragged him here. Loki had been distraught when he realised you were not on the transport out of Asgard, only reassured by Valkyrie’s insistence that you were safe, travelling. 

“I’m going to put my boots by the seats, so we don’t get snow in the beds.” 

Loki didn’t look around as you made your way slowly back to the car, politely angling his head away so that he didn’t see you slide out of your wet clothes either.

“You can enter.” You called, now wrapped in the thick sleeping bag that lined the mattresses. 

Loki opted for magic to create his own privacy, his black sweater and jeans vanishing in favour of black sweat pants and a long green t-shirt. You smiled again, so Midgardian, he looked nothing  like the swaggering prince you knew, always bedecked in silk and sumptuous fabrics. He looked, normal. 

“Do I have chocolate on my face?” He asked, climbing into his own sleeping bag.

“No, it’s nothing.” You sighed and, with a flicker, the cabin light went out plunging you into darkness. 

In the vastness of the night, cold fingers sought your own, the fingertips pressing into your palm. 

“I truly did not mean to leave Asgard for so long.” Loki whispered, “it was a fate not of my own making.” 

You sighed, rolling onto your back and away from his hand. “I believe you.” Focussing on your tired limbs you attempted to sleep, closing your eyes and exchanging one darkness for another. But sleep refused to take you, dangling you on the precipice of unconsciousness, only to remind you of all that you had lost, before you could plunge into oblivion. You woke again, your heart in your throat, your stomach in knots, and Loki lay beside you. 

His features were relaxed, his breathing even, the lines of his cheekbones looked softer, somehow, now that his lips were partially open. The temperature must have cooled, for each breath was like a will-o-the-wisp, dancing from between his plush lips and fogging the windows. How you wished you could join him in sleep again, you couldn’t remember when your dreams had taken you, but the moon had moved around the car so sleep must have found you somehow. 

Betrayed by your own hands you reached out for him, touching his arm with a single finger, just to make sure he was still there. 

“If you are cold, vennen, you have only to say.” His voice startled you, your hand jumping back as if burnt. 

“I - I didn't mean to.”

Eyes still closed, lashes brushing his cheeks, he held his hand out and you took it. Snow had covered the little glass window in the roof of the car, so you could no longer see the stars. All was gone, yet Loki lay here with you, his fingers laced with your own. 

“I did not wish to cause you pain, truly, it was not your doing nor did you deserve to suffer because of it.” 

“I know, Loki.” 

“Will you let me make it better for you?” 

You turned to meet his ice blue eyes, still sparkling, filmed with tears he was too scared to shed. 

“There is nothing to be done to bring Asgard back.” 

“I am aware,” he smiled, “but I wish to heal you nevertheless.” 

“You have stitched me, that is all that can be done.” 

“Vennen,” you looked at him again, his face serious, “let me heal this between us.” 

You stared back, confused, and then his free hand reached out and cupped your bruised cheek and that was all you saw before his lips were on yours. 

Loki tasted like expensive whisky and dark chocolate, his lips like velvet, warm and soft as they brushed against your own. You fit together so perfectly that you couldn't help but roll closer, pressing a hand to his chest and feeling the warmth of his heart beat beneath. 

But then the stitches over your ribs pulled, your hiss of pain swallowed by Loki's protective kiss. With gentle hands he rolled your back, hovering over you and blotting out the darkness with his smile. 

“If you hurt yourself more, I shall have to continue to heal you.” His lips skated over yours, so tantalisingly close. 

“Then I suppose I’ll need to crash my ship again,” you smiled up at him, your Loki, and for the first time since you’d landed you didn’t feel the pain or the cold or the fear of a new place. Only Loki’s lips on yours and the knowledge that he would never leave you again. 

The title is from Shakespeare's Sonnet 97:

How like a winter hath my absence been From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year! What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen! What old December’s bareness every where! And yet this time removed was summer’s time, The teeming autumn, big with rich increase, Bearing the wanton burden of the prime, Like widow’d wombs after their lords’ decease: Yet this abundant issue seem’d to me But hope of orphans and unfather’d fruit; For summer and his pleasures wait on thee, And, thou away, the very birds are mute; Or, if they sing, ’tis with so dull a cheer That leaves look pale, dreading the winter’s near.

[eleniblue]

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[eleniblue]

🍁Maple's Masterlist🍁

I guess I should make an actual masterlist since I have three whole titles now. Maybe one day I'll even make it look nice with a header or gifs or something.

I write for Loki, my fics will be reader inserts and will have happy endings unless otherwise stated in the summary or tags.

AO3 Link

Series

Thrown (complete) Fluff, Comfort, Mutual Pining, Mild Angst After freeing the timelines Loki steals a tempad and joins Thor in New Asgard. He does his best to avoid the humans who live nearby but there is one human making that difficult.

Oneshots

What Ails You (3.4k words) Tooth-rotting fluff, Pining Living in the Avengers tower, Loki is your closest friend. You struggle with your feelings when you want more than friendship.

The Cold-Blooded Prince (1.7k words) Pining, Humor You are hopelessly infatuated with the younger prince of Asgard. He doesn't seem to be aware that you exist.

Tag list beneath the cut.

Loki Fic Tag List

If you would like to be added or removed from the tag list please leave a comment or send me a message/ask.

@infinitystoner, @muddyorbsblr, @gigglingtiggerv2, @imalovernotahater, @mischief2sarawr, @goddessofwonderland, @purplekitten30, @lokisgoodgirl, @ultrasnakesona, @ozymdias, @navs-bhat, @iambetterthanbefore, @asgards-princess-of-mischief, @goblingirlsarah, @thedistractedagglomeration, @buttercupcookies-blog, @texmexdarling, @kaylalikescatsandstuff, @iamlokisgloriouspurpose, @ladyloki3, @superficialdomina, @coldnique, @peaches1958, @thisisew, @glitterylokislut, @soulpiercing

[eleniblue]

Thrown - Chapter 51: Solstice

Summary: The final preparations for are made for the longest days of the year.

Word Count: 2,192

Author's Note: Here we are, the penultimate chapter. Come back Saturday for the end.

Thrown Masterlist Loki Masterlist

"This is absurd." Loki scoffed. You shrugged, unaffected, packing a few tools and supplies into a cardboard box. "My dress, my rules." "If I don't see it beforehand, how can I know that it's appropriate for the occasion? If I'm to be seen with you then surely I should be aware." You cocked a brow. "You doubt Elof's skills? Should I tell him?" He frowned. Elof was unquestionably the best tailor around. Losing his favor would be unwise. Loki sulked and crossed his arms. "No. Obviously I would never call Elof's craftsmanship into question." "Great." You closed up the box. "Then it sounds like we don't have a problem."

Loki rounded the table, trying one last bid. "What if there is some adjustment that needs to be made?" "Well it would be too late now anyway, wouldn't it?" You poked him in the chest. "You'll just have to wait until tomorrow." "Darling," he took your hand with slanted brows, "had we but world enough and time...." You rolled your eyes and pulled your hand away. "It's one night. Stop being dramatic." You picked up the box and started toward the door. Loki scowled, glancing toward your bedroom and calling to you across the room. "Suppose I simply go have a look for myself? There are only so many places it might be." "It's not here at all." You called back. "Val agreed to hold onto it for me." "Traitor to the crown!" He hissed as he crossed the room, where you were waiting. "I'll see to it that she is punished." You smiled sweetly. "I'm sure you will." You nodded toward the door, which he opened and followed you through.

"There was a time when my threats were respected." Loki muttered as he walked down the road beside you. "I'm not sure how circumstances have changed so drastically." "You're not allowed to walk with me if you're going to pout the whole way." "I am not pouting." "What do you call it, then?" You shifted the box in your arms for a better grip. "Do you really intend to carry that all the way?" You looked at him sidelong. "A gentleman would have asked to take it by now." He smirked. "Ah, there's the trouble. I'm no gentleman. You can ask anyone. They'll all tell you the same: I'm a scoundrel." The box vanished in a ripple of green light. With your hands now free, you wore a thoughtful smile and laced your fingers with his. "I think maybe you're both." He brought your joined hands up to his lips to place a kiss on your knuckles. "Your good opinion is the only one I seek." "I never said it was good." He chuckled and squeezed your hand.

He only noticed now, but your pendant was missing from your ensemble. Unusual, he had quite possibly never seen you without it since he first presented it to you. "You aren't wearing your necklace." "I am not." Loki narrowed his eyes. "That wasn't an answer." You cocked your head with a smile. "I don't believe there was a question." A valid point, he conceded. "Well, I think-" "How's Thor doing, with everything?" He studied you for a moment. Clearly you had every intention of wriggling out of this line of questioning. He could circle back later. "He's worked himself into a near-frantic state. I feel like his mother, chasing after him to make sure he's eating and sleeping. It's ridiculous." You frowned. "Have there been any issues?" "No!" Loki threw his hand in the air. "That's the most ridiculous part. Everything seems to be going perfectly! It's almost as if he can't believe he's doing something well." He looked at you meaningfully. "I may need to enlist your nefarious skills to convince him to take a break this evening." You chuckled. "I'm always up for an underhanded good deed." He smiled softly. "This I know."

**

The hall truly was impressive. Not only the size, which was grand, but aesthetically it was the perfect representation of New Asgard. The materials largely fit in with the town's original Nordic style, but the form was reminiscent of their home realm. The building swept upward in ways that seemed to defy gravity, but where on Asgard much of it would have been gilded, here the stone and plaster finish remained. The pillars of the facade were much the same shape as one could have seen in the palace, and they were similarly carved with intricate knots, but these were wood rather than a polished gold or bronze. Thor had worked extensively with the designers to ensure that this hall fit the vision he had for their people, and it certainly paid off. The end result had the effect of being familiar, and traditional to Asgard, while also integrating here in their new home. Loki would have stopped to admire the building a bit longer, but he could tell you were anxious to see inside, so he wasted no time leading you through the door.

Inside the hall was a flurry of activity. Dozens of people bustling this way and that, hanging decorations, arranging tables and chairs, organizing supplies. Looking around, Loki would guess that the people working were an even mix of Æsir and humans. You stood in appreciative wonder, taking in the scene. Thor was nearby, holding a clipboard and speaking seriously with someone who was rolling a cart of kegs. Asbjorn and his sons had made a significant quantity of Asgardian spirits, and great care was being taken to ensure that they were clearly identified, marked, and segregated from the human liquors. Thor finished whatever his instruction might have been, the man dutifully continued on with his cart, and Thor took notice of the two of you.

He grinned and called your name, waving you over with the clipboard. You couldn't seem to keep your eyes in one place as you approached. "Thor, this is amazing! I've only seen it from the outside." He chuckled and spread his arms. "Well-met, and welcome to the hall of New Asgard." You gave him a knowing look. "I heard it's called Bilskirnir." Thor looked away bashfully and rubbed the back of his neck. "A nickname some have taken to calling it. The hall hasn't been given its name yet." "I have a feeling it's going to stick." You spoke with a smile. Thor shook his head and brushed off the comment. "Come, there is a little time, I can quickly acquaint you with the place."

Thor pointed out the banquet tables, which were already being laid out with warming plates, then here were the tables for guests, the dance floor, the space where the musicians were setting their chairs. He brought you onto the dais where he would stand and make his speech tomorrow night. He showed you the doors that open to the field out back. This hallway led to the kitchens, which were well-occupied, whereas these stairs led up to rooms that would one day serve to host guests. You were thoroughly impressed with all of it, naturally. As he brought you back to where he began, your gaze drifted up to the rafters. They were large dark wood beams, each was carved with runes, which had then been accented by gold leaf. The beams encircled and criss-crossed the room.

You pointed upward. "What do those say?" "They are names." Thor looked up at the rafters. "Of those we lost. So they are still here with us, where we celebrate." You bit your lip and stood quietly for a moment while your eyes traced the room again. "There's so many. I... I knew it was a lot, but seeing them all...." Thor patted your shoulder. "Yes. But we are still here, and we carry them with us as we can." You nodded as you looked up again at the rafters. "This was a great idea." "It was Loki who suggested it." You looked at Loki with an expression that made his heart swell. He gave a noncommittal shrug. "He's misremembering, I'm sure." Suddenly you had an arm around each of their necks, pulling them into a hug. You held them close and spoke softly. "Oh, boys, I'm so proud of you." Loki was grateful his face was hidden.

You stepped back and took a breath. "Okay, tour's over. Time to get to work." You surveyed the space, and presumably the tasks you intended to address, then turned to Loki. "Could you put my box over there?" Loki obliged, and your box of supplies appeared as directed. "Thank you. And now I think you two have your daily walk?" Thor grimaced. "Oh, I don't think so. There are still so many things to do." "Then how lucky we are that we have so many people to do them." You chirped cheerfully as you gestured to those working throughout the room. "Truly, there just isn't time-" "Sure there is." You slipped the clipboard out of his hands before Thor even recognized what was happening. "We can manage for a few minutes without you." "But..." He looked to Loki helplessly. Loki shook his head. "I find it's easier not to fight it." You scoffed. "You fight me every time." Loki smirked as he leaned toward you. "Well, that's because I enjoy a challenge." "I simply can't." Thor cut in with what was likely meant to be a firm tone. "Of course you can." You easily dodged Thor's attempt to retrieve the clipboard. "Go on, I promise to save some work for you to do when you get back." You had turned him by the shoulder and were pushing him toward the door.

"Loki, please." Thor pleaded over his shoulder. Loki was following behind casually. "Brother, I don't know why you are still laboring under the delusion that either of us have a say in this matter." He placed a sympathetic hand on Thor's shoulder as he began walking him to the door. "Bending to her will is really the only option." "That's the spirit!" You quipped with a smile and hung back as they continued forward. "Have a good time! We'll still be here." "I... I suppose a short break...." Thor relented as his feet carried him outside.

Loki looked over his shoulder and shot you a wink. You flashed a proud smile before turning on your heel and setting to task.

**

"-and it's completely ludicrous." Loki fumed. "She refuses to let me see the dress at all before tomorrow evening." Thor nodded sagely. "It's understandable. The dress is very becoming, I can see why she would prefer the reveal to be a surprise." "You've seen-!" Loki stopped short and carefully studied Thor, who had continued a few paces before turning back to his brother with a blank expression. Loki narrowed his eyes. "She did not show you the dress." Thor laughed and kept walking. "It suits her so well, you'll be very pleased with it." Loki quickly caught up. "I know she didn't show it to you." "You don't believe me. Here, let's ask her now." Thor was pulling out his phone. "Don't bother. I already know, she would catch onto your game and give the same obfuscating answers. Absolutely infuriating, the both of you." Thor broke into a hearty chuckle.

Their walk brought them out of the town, away from the road, into the surrounding hills. "There has been talk lately," Thor ventured, with eyes cast firmly to the ground as he walked, "among the townsfolk, the elders. They've been speaking of a coronation." "Hm. Rightly so." Thor looked surprised. He nodded. "You are so very different from the Thor that I once knew." Loki glanced at him for just a moment before looking forward again. "The Thor I knew was brash, careless, boastful. Not someone ready for the throne. I've seen you now; thoughtful, considerate, wise. You work hard for your people and take nothing for granted." He turned to meet Thor's eyes. "You've grown into a great leader, and one that I would be honored to call my king." Thor did not respond immediately. They walked on for a moment more before he finally cleared his throat. "Thank you, brother." "Certainly."

They came to a stop at the crest of a hill. In the distance the hall was visible, as well as the field behind it, cast golden in the late afternoon. They could see people making preparations for Midsummer; moving furniture about, carrying supplies. Some were stacking wood for bonfires. Children were playing on maypoles. Figures scurried back and forth and from here it was difficult to tell which were human and which were Æsir.

They stood and watched in silence for several minutes. "Quite a sight." Loki finally remarked. "Agreed." Another moment was spent in quiet observation, when Loki turned to find Thor watching him with a strange, thoughtful look on his face. "What? What is it?"

Thor gave him a half smile. "I can't be certain what it will mean to you." He turned and looked out over the hills again. "But I happened to notice that the sun was shining."

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

At the start of this chapter Loki is quoting the poem To His Coy Mistress by Andrew Marvell

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[eleniblue]

He just loves to turn into a tree... 🩷💚

[eleniblue]

LYHOM: Ch 1: The Menace

Summary: Now that summer is coming to an end, Loki returns to campus in preparation for the new school year. Charlotte meets Professor Laufeyson for the first time. W/C 6k

Warnings: TW for anyone who's been in the weeds working in a restaurant 😂

Masterlist / Ao3

Five Years Ago.

Loki stared out of the window of Stark tower as rain pelted and dripped down the sides of the glass building. Not twenty four hours ago, his silhouette had dominated the skyline, a commander before his chitauri legion, every muscle coiled with purpose and determination. Determination to make Thor suffer. Determination to conquer and rule. This planet was to be his kingdom. Now it would be his prison.

Yes, his fate could’ve been worse, but that didn’t stop the dread inside. The resentment that had simmered about Thor, that unshakable conviction of superiority over the mortals of Earth, now seemed like the remnants of a dream. His mind drifted in a haze of internal conflict, the sharp edges dulled by shame and the sting of powerlessness. The magic that had been an extension of his very essence was now gone; it left him exposed, raw in a way that pained him more than his physical wounds.

Loki could feel the cold emanating from Thor’s posture in the chair across from him. His brother’s presence was like a statue- immovable, severe- a stark contrast to the warmth that usually radiated from the God of Thunder. Not that it wasn’t warranted– Loki had just yesterday killed a dear friend of Thor’s and the Avengers, plus countless other civilians. 

“The Avengers and SHIELD want you to stay on the Eastern seaboard, so that they can easily keep an eye on you,” Thor’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and cool.

“Great, I’m homeless on this godforsaken planet and I will be under surveillance by those who could never understand our ways,” Loki muttered to himself in a bitter tone, sighing as his eyes focused on nothing in the grey skies out the window. 

“You know that Father was lenient. It’s only because of Mother that you were given this sentence, and not death,” he said, his tone more patronizing than Loki had ever heard it.

“And what of Thanos? Odin said nothing to the truths I laid out for him!,” Loki spat.

“Father will do what needs to be done. But you cannot deny your place in this scheme. What you have done. The lives you have taken in vain!,” Thor’s voice raised, echoing in the modern room. 

Loki didn’t respond, he was done discussing this again with his family. Instead, he sat with the weight of the situation he had found himself in. That he had put himself in. He could almost taste the tang of his own pride as it fought against this imposed humility.

Thor shifted in his chair, the leather creaking softly beneath his large build. He remained silent, the lines of his face taut with unresolved tension. The space between them was filled with the weight of yesterday’s tragedy, the lives lost lingering like specters in the air.

“Now we just have to find out what kind of Earth job suits you, and that Father would approve of,” he began, his voice echoing Odin’s edicts. “‘You must put in the work, help the Midgardians. And prove to them that we are not savages who have no regard for life on other realms.’”

The words hung between them, a gauntlet thrown at Loki’s feet. To labor among these mortals, to be judged by their standards and confined within their borders– this was his penance. 

“How could you make amends to the people of Midgard? Through the arts? Hmm…an actor? You are dramatic and love to lie. You could probably make a fortune doing that if you wanted,” his voice dripped with irritation as his eyes bore into Loki.

Loki let out an almost inaudible snort and rolled his eyes while he continued to try to ignore Thor’s anger. He had thought the lowest point in his life was his falling from the rainbow bridge. But this was more public– a loss for all of Earth to witness. The humans saw him as a monster, a being woven from darkness and chaos here to destroy their world- just as the Frost Giants of his bedtime stories. Maybe the accusations of his heritage were right. 

And yet, Thor was still helping him. A small pang of guilt surfaced– remorse for the lives lost, dreams shattered. Yes, they were mere mortals, but he had seen their courage, their capacity for love and sacrifice. In his heart, he knew what he had done was wrong. Even if there had been coercion, and magical forces, he had still committed atrocities. 

“Perhaps there is some way to channel this penchant for knowledge you possess. You do love to read books…what about a librarian?,” Thor suggested to Loki, his annoyance growing at Loki’s refusal to participate. 

Loki’s gaze snapped back to Thor, a flicker of irritation crossing his features, agitating the cuts on his face that mirrored his injured ego. “A librarian?,” he echoed, the word tasting like ash on his tongue. “You suggest I spend my days shuffling parchments and hushing children?”.

“An annoyance, I know,” Thor replied, the corners of his mouth threatening to curl into a smile. “But it would be an environment suited to your talents. And it may serve as penance of sorts.”

 “And how exactly will that ‘improve our relations with the people of Earth’?” he drawled, the imitation of Odin so spot-on it bordered on mockery.

Thor’s patience, hanging by a thread, finally snapped. He stood abruptly, the chair beneath him screeching in protest against the polished floor. Loki felt himself jump slightly, surprised at Thor’s sudden movement.

“Loki, you best try harder,” Thor barked, his tone sharp. “As I’m doing all of the work and I am sick of the sight of you. You need to help me find the answer so we can end this.”

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken truths and the shadow of deeds that could not be undone. Loki felt the sting of Thor’s words deeper than he cared to admit. He truly was in a dark place, and his brother was ready to be rid of him. The pang hit unexpectedly, a sharp twinge that resonated somewhere deep within him– a place he rarely dared to explore. It was more than the sting of humiliation; it was a profound sense of loss.

“Thor,” he began, voice softer than he intended, “I know my actions have caused you pain.” The admission cost him, his pride chafing against the humility of the words.

Thor’s eyes snapped to him, searching, perhaps for a glimmer of the brother he once knew. Loki held that gaze, offering a silent pledge to try– he couldn’t erase all he’d done, but he could do this for him– help Thor with this decision. 

“Let us consider this... fate,” Loki replied sullenly.

“Very well. A healer? Or a Doctor, as they’re called on Earth,” Thor suggested, his voice infused with a forced optimism that clashed with the tension that gripped the room.

“What, and work with humans when they are their most disgusting? No thank you,” Loki replied, folding his arms over his chest. Thor ignored Loki’s response, and walked over to a bookcase, running his thick fingers over the binds.

“I’ve got it! A teacher!,” he exclaimed, the words tumbling out like a revelation as he turned around to look at Loki, a proud smile starting to form on his lips. 

Loki’s eyes met Thor’s in a glare, “Absolutely not.”

“Oh, you’d be perfect! You could teach humans about Asgard!” His voice carried a note of excitement.

“And since you won’t have your magic, you’ll be relatively…harmless,” Thor’s brow furrowed as he drifted off in thought for a moment, knowing that wasn’t entirely true. 

“I do not think I am the person to be teaching children,” Loki commented dryly. 

“No, not children– they study as adults here, as well. Think about it– you’re fulfilling Father’s order to give back. And you’re so knowledgeable. Plus you could hold court and be the center of the room’s attention– you’d love that!,” a sad smile pulled at the corner of his mouth wistfully. 

With a heavy sigh, Loki turned his gaze back to the window, where droplets of rain raced each other down the pane. Loki thought about this proposal, it was the best idea Thor had had. Loki couldn’t be bothered thinking about taking a Midgardian job– they all seemed terrible. But maybe this was the best option. He didn’t want to spend an extra minute here in this tower, in this city. He needed out. 

“Great,” Loki muttered under his breath, “a pedagogue to these Midgardians.” He could already picture their puzzled faces as he unraveled the threads of ancient lore. Despite his frustration with his brother’s suggestion, a part of Loki couldn’t help but appreciate the poetic irony of it all. 

Thor, however, seemed deflated, the lines of frustration etched upon his brow as he slumped back onto his chair, “Well, brother, I have tried. I don’t know what else to do, other than having SHIELD pick a job for you. And you probably would not like whatever that would entail.”

“Okay,” Loki said quietly with resignation as he felt the metaphorical door click on his new jail cell. His voice carried the faintest trace of defeat- or was it acceptance?- as his reality narrowed to the confines of this Midgardian existence.

Loki didn’t need to turn to know Thor’s eyes were upon him, searching for signs of sincerity or perhaps the glimmer of rebellion. “Thank you,” Loki murmured, almost too soft to hear over the drumming rain. “For your... persistence.” His admission hung between them like a delicate truce.

“Of course,” Thor responded, his tone carrying a hint of surprise. “You are my brother.”

Loki nodded, wrestling with the discomfort of his own vulnerability as he continued to look into the rain clouds outside of the window. 

Now.

The slight breeze pulled the recently fallen leaves across the dark pavement of the parking lot with a skitter. It was a cool day for August– a promise of what was to come in the New England fall. Charlotte sighed contentedly as she looked at the apron thrown in a haphazard pile in her passenger seat. 

Today marked her third shift at The Mudd Puddle, the quaint coffee shop that had quickly taken a spot in her routine. Nestled near the heart of the university, it was a sanctuary for over-caffeinated students and sleep-deprived professors alike. 

Charlotte had arrived early for her shift and lingered in the sanctuary of her car. With the windows down, she let the sounds of distant chatter and the rustling of trees fill the space around her, a white noise backdrop to her wandering thoughts. For a few moments, her mind drifted to the recent months that had led up to her sitting in this car, in this parking lot, far away from home. All of the studying, all of the hard work– it brought her here, to this moment.

While she could’ve taken a gap year after she graduated with her bachelor’s, or entered the workplace, she had decided to start her masters program immediately. She’d be the youngest in the program, a fact that filled her with a mix of pride and trepidation. But this was her dream, crystallizing into reality at this very university. This anthropology program was one of the best in the country, and there was also an added bonus: Asgardian History and Culture with Professor Laufeyson.

In fact, his class was the reason she was here. Her mind danced through a montage of moments spent hunched over her laptop, replaying the few interviews Loki Laufeyson had given. His voice, filtered through speakers, had been a siren call to her hunger for knowledge. 

Before she had arrived, Charlotte had envisioned the upcoming lectures– the gateways to worlds very few humans knew about. Loki Laufeyson, the handsome former God of Mischief turned professor, would be her guide through the tapestries of alien traditions and ancient stories. The very thought sent shivers down her spine.

Everything she had idealized for the former god as her teacher had come crashing down when her new boss, Kate, told her about how he really was. The reality being: Professor Laufeyson was a dick. And he was a repeat customer at the place she had coincidentally gotten a job at. 

“So, you know “Professor” Laufeyson, right? The asshole who invaded New York and the Avengers had to stop?,”  Kate had asked on Charlotte’s first day at The Mudd Puddle. Charlotte nodded, recalling how her heart skipped a beat at the mention of the name that had been echoing through her mind for months.

“Macchiatos are his thing, but he’s super particular,” Kate had continued, her brows knitting together in annoyance. “We called him the ‘macchiato menace’, and now he’s just the ‘menace’. He made one barista quit when he went off on her a couple of years ago.”

Charlotte remembered the shock that had bolted through her— the juxtaposition of her excitement over the lectures she yearned to attend and this unexpected revelation of his cruel nature.

“Really?” she had managed to say, trying to keep her voice light despite the unease coiling in her stomach. 

“Yeah, but don’t worry too much. Just...be precise with his drinks, okay?,” Kate nodded reassuringly. 

“Got it,” Charlotte had replied, more to herself than to Kate, not ready to tell her she would be in his class in a few weeks.

Now, sitting alone with the echo of that conversation playing in her mind, she refused to get worried over something that hadn’t happened yet. Who knows, maybe he would be nice to her? 

Charlotte was thankful that at the very least she had decent people to work with.  Her co-workers had been mostly friendly, and she had been enjoying the training with the owner of the shop, Kate. Kate was an amazing barista, and had even competed and won awards in her field. She was also a great boss, who was reasonable and level headed– something you didn’t always get in the restaurant industry. 

An alarm went off on her phone, signaling to her it was time to head into the coffee shop. With a smile on her face, Charlotte pulled her chestnut colored hair into a ponytail and grabbed her apron, making her way inside. As she entered the small cafe, she was surprised to see how busy it was as she pushed past the crowd. Kate greeted her with a relieved face, “Boy am I glad to see you! Che called off, so it’s just you and me until relief comes at noon!”.

“Alright, let’s do this!,” Charlotte replied, her tone cheerful and determined despite the rush. She tied her apron strings with nimble fingers and joined Kate, ready to tackle the wave of customers.

This shift had been particularly difficult, and nothing like her first weeks here. While Charlotte tackled the register, the crowd got busier and ruder. It was back to school season, and the bustling crowd had become impatient this morning. A forced smile had quickly plastered on her face as she treated each customer like they were her favorite just as Kate had taught her. An hour flew by in what felt like minutes. 

Charlotte’s fingers danced across the register keys with a deftness while the coffee shop buzzed, each customer’s voice stacking atop another in a cacophony of demands. The queue snaked out the door, a relentless stream feeding people into the cramped space. Yet, somewhere amidst the bustle, Charlotte managed a smile and found solace in the rhythm; take an order, give a muffin, smile, repeat.

“Hey, Char, can you grab another box of chai tea bags from the back?,” Kate’s voice cut through the commotion, her tattooed arms flexing as she steamed milk with precision. 

“Got it, Kate,” Charlotte replied, darting to the storage room and back with a nimbleness that surprised even her. She was learning, adapting, and the curveballs thrown by the crowd were no longer daunting.

“Thank you! Have a great day!,” she chimed to another satisfied customer. Today’s shift would not defeat her.

The atmosphere subtly shifted, like the hush that falls over an audience before the curtains rise. A tall figure materialized at the back of the line, his presence alone a silent command for attention. Whispers began to weave through the throng of people. Younger students craned their necks, some daring to giggle and point as they turned on their heels to catch a glimpse of the newcomer.

Charlotte’s breath caught as he began to move, the crowd parting with reluctant awe. He strode forward with an air of entitlement and grace, bypassing the waiting patrons. She felt herself stiffen, the surprise etching itself across her expressive features as  Professor Laufeyson approached, cutting through the line to stand before her.

“Excuse me! There’s a line!” someone called out, their protest feeble against his confident advance. The professor ignored it.

Charlotte found herself tempering her expectations about Professor Laufeyson as he stepped up towards the counter, towering over her in a finely tailored black suit and a placid look on his face. Should she tell him she’ll be seeing him next week? That she couldn’t wait to start his class? No, that’d be a weird thing to do. It’d be better to act like she doesn’t know who he is.

She couldn’t believe how handsome he was in real life. Like, stunningly so. She was not prepared for that. Sunlight from the window caught the angles of his face, casting light and shadow over the high plains of his cheekbones. His hair, the color of a raven’s wing, was pulled behind his ears; shorter than she’d seen it before. It suited him. The sexy curls of his hair framed his jawline, and danced above the lapel of his suit, which hugged his form with the precision only bespoke tailoring could afford. His appearance in the humdrum coffee shop seemed out of place. 

“Good morning,” her cheerful voice clung to the professionalism that had served her well throughout the morning rush.

Keep it together, she mentally chastised herself for the nervous flutter in her stomach. Her fingers betrayed her composure with a slight tremble, an involuntary reaction to the man who now demanded her attention.

“Good morning,” Professor Laufeyson gently smiled, his blue eyes nearly sparkling. 

“What can I get you?,” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“I’d like a macchiato, please,” he calmly requested, his eyes holding hers for a fraction longer than necessary.

She replied, “Sure thing!,” and put in his order, trying to focus on acting like this was no big deal. He paid in silence, his attention turning towards the crowd behind him with a smile. With the transaction complete, Professor Laufeyson acknowledged Charlotte with a nod and then turned and strolled towards the serving area where his order would soon appear.

That wasn’t so bad. He seemed to be in a good mood. 

Charlotte watched him go, admiring the confident set of his shoulders, the effortless way he navigated the bustling space. As he disappeared from her line of sight, Charlotte exhaled the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Her pulse still raced, but she found solace in the small victory of having handled their interaction with outward poise. 

“Excuse me, hello?,” a voice jolted her back to the present, and she turned to face the new wave of customers.

“Good morning!,” Her self assuredness returned in full force as she greeted the fresh-faced group before her– a gaggle of freshmen flanked by their equally eager parents. They crowded around the counter, bright-eyed and buzzing.The order was very complicated, and she struggled to take everything right. Double shots, extra shots, no foams, the ticket for the 6 drinks was ridiculous. 

Charlotte’s hands hovered over the register, her fingers fumbling as she tried to focus on the screen in front of her. Her concentration was tested by the crowd’s discussion of Professor Laufeyson, who stood casually at the pickup counter,  reading his phone. 

“Isn’t that Thor’s brother?,” someone murmured, a ripple of excitement passing through the crowd.

“Looks way younger than I thought,” another voice joined in, edged with a mix of surprise and admiration.

“I can’t believe the school lets a terrorist teach a class,” an older man gruffly commented.

“Well, if the Avengers approved it, I’m sure it’s fine. He’s been teaching here for years, and nothing’s happened,” a father in the group contributed with self assured authority. 

Charlotte hit the wrong button, then another, and with a sigh, deleted the drink from the order for the third time. She could feel her cheeks flush warmly with a blend of embarrassment and frustration.

“Sorry,” she mumbled more to herself more than anyone else, re-entering the details yet again. She could feel the impatience growing in the line as she nodded thanks, looking towards the next in line.

The next order was also a group– more complicated requests, and it took Charlotte three tries to ring them up correctly. Doesn’t anyone just order regular coffee anymore??, she thought to herself. 

Kate, usually easy going, was now a portrait of strained patience, her arms moving in a blur as she crafted drinks as quickly as possible. “Damn it,” Kate exhaled, the sound barely audible over the grind of coffee beans and the hiss of steam wands. Charlotte glanced at the clock: thirty minutes before help was to arrive. 

They were officially in the weeds, and Charlotte was still new, so she didn’t know how to help Kate make the orders she had just taken. 

Three teenagers walked up, one of them with Instagram open and a picture of a coffee drink. She knew they were about to order some random concoction that had become viral. Just what she and Kate needed. 

Panic started to creep in, as the front door bell went off again, and Charlotte saw the line now going out the front door. She felt her chest tighten as she tried to concentrate on the customers, and ignore the eyerolls in the back of the line. 

“Can you add an extra shot to that latte?,” asked an annoyed man in a crumpled suit, phone wedged between shoulder and ear.

CRASH. Charlotte jumped as her head turned towards the sound of the calamity, and saw Kate had dropped a mug on the floor, sending porcelain shattering everywhere. The crowd quieted for a moment. Charlotte told the next couple in line to hold on a moment as she checked on the mess.

She took the brief moment to take a deep breath as she walked over to Kate. “Is there anything I can help you with?,” she asked hopefully, while Kate pulled blonde strands of hair behind her ear and reached for the broom and began to sweep up her mess. 

“Keep the line moving, Char. I’ve got this,” she reassured her. 

“Ummm excuse me- I ordered oat milk- this tastes like regular milk,” a young teenage boy no older than thirteen claimed with a condescending tone to Kate from the pick up counter.

Charlotte wanted to reach over the counter and smack him– she knew Kate wouldn’t have made a mistake like that. This morning was getting more intense by the minute, and the last thing she wanted to deal with was assholes. As the boy tapped his foot impatiently, a surge of protectiveness washed over Charlotte. Her cheerful facade wavered, the edges of her smile hardening into something less inviting.

“Oh, it’s oat milk,” Kate replied with a sickeningly sweet tone as she bent over and picked up the big shards on the floor, not looking at him.

“Shit!,” she muttered under her breath as she stood up to look at Charlotte. 

Charlotte saw the red seeping out of Kate’s finger, a cut from a piece of porcelain. Kate dumped the last of the mess into the trash, and shot Charlotte a “Can you fucking believe this??” look. She wrapped her cut finger in a paper towel.

“Can you just redo it? It tastes funny,” the teen replied to anyone who would listen, rolling his eyes. 

“Of course, dear, I just need to go clean myself up first,” Kate walked up to Charlotte, lowering her voice. 

“I’m going to tell the people at the register it’s going to be a few minutes, and try to calm them down before they start flipping their shit. Can you make that little asshole’s cappuccino? Oat milk,” she sarcastically saluted Charlotte. 

“Uh– yea, I can try,” Charlotte nodded, heading to the cappuccino machine.

Out of her periphery, she saw Professor Laufeyson walk up to the counter, standing next to the teenage boy. She shook her head, dreading what could possibly happen next. 

Charlotte completed the drink and delivered the coffee to the teen, “OAT. MILK.,” she enunciated, forcing a smile as much as she could, but she was sure appeared more like a sneer.

Then came the voice, deep and unamused, slicing through the coffee shop chatter like a blade, “This macchiato is not up to acceptable standards.”

Charlotte looked to her new teacher and saw a look of disapproval on his perfect face and tried to bring herself to smile at him, but she wasn’t sure if she was pulling it off. 

“Yea we’ll get to it in a minute, the line’s backed up, and–”, Charlotte tried to placate him while internally she felt like she might snap. This shift had been too much, and dealing with “The Menace” was the last thing she wanted. Her fascination with him from his arrival quickly vanished, and annoyance began to set in. 

“I do not have time. You will remake mine now, as I was here first.” His tone grew more stern, and his brows furrowed.

“Yes, sir, I get it, but we’re understaffed and I’m new. We’re trying.” She tried to hide her irritated tone unsuccessfully as she looked around at the chaos unfolding in the entryway. She could feel heat rising in her cheeks, the frustration and embarrassment of not being able to do her job getting to her. She hated feeling like this. 

“Trying? Well that’s not good enough, is it?,” he shot back at her, setting his cup down on the counter with emphasis. 

If there was one thing that really bothered her, it was treating service workers like shit. Charlotte’s heart pounded a furious rhythm. His words were a slap to her pride, a dismissal of her efforts. She felt herself snap.

“Look- I don’t know how to make one,” she could feel her blood pressure rise with anger as her voice raised and she met his steely blue eyes with a glare, the professor’s haughty attitude getting under her skin. 

“Hey- are we going to get some help down here??,” a man at the register yelled down to Charlotte. She looked back over to see the line of customers looking mad, some throwing their arms up in the air.  

“You’re just going to have to wait, like everyone else,” Charlotte said to her professor, venom appearing in her tone more than she had planned as she gestured to the situation unraveling around them. 

“Excuse me?? Do you know who I am?,” Loki’s eyes narrowed as he stared down at the small woman, stepping closer. 

“Yes I do, and like I said, I literally don’t know how to make your damn drink, so you’re just going to have to wait!!,” her raised voice cutting through the air, sharp and reckless, as her hands curled into fists at her sides. Her pulse thrummed in her ears, a battle drum urging her on.

Professor Laufeyson’s face was a canvas of barely restrained fury, his eyes darkening like storm clouds over an ocean. His stature loomed, a tower of indignation. Charlotte could feel every eye upon them, and her chest tightened with a cocktail of rage and mortification as she tried to ignore it.

The look in his eyes grew meaner. “You’re incredibly disrespectful for someone who can’t even make a simple coffee at her coffee shop job!” Professor Laufeyson snapped, his voice now threatening. 

Is this the part where I'm supposed to cower? Fuck that!

The corners of her mind whispered defiance, but aloud, nothing came– only the sound of her own breath, ragged and quick.

“Heeyyyy….,” Kate’s melodious voice interrupted the tension between them as she quickly sidled up to Charlotte.

“Finally, someone competent. You will re-make my macchiato, and this time, you will be less heavy handed with the milk,” he demanded, his focus shifting to Kate. 

“Absolutely, Professor. I’ll get on that right now,” Kate’s hand gently pressed against Charlotte’s back, pushing her away from impending disaster.

“Girl, what are you doing? He’s not the one to mess with,” she whispered as she ushered Charlotte away from Laufeyson. 

Charlotte turned quickly, plastering on a sweet smile again for the irritated man at the register. She could feel her hand shaking as she rang him up, her mind racing about what had just transpired. Even though this customer was also an asshole, he only annoyed her. Professor Laufeyson’s attitude and entitlement genuinely made her want to fight. 

As her Professor, finally satisfied, left the cafe without a look in her direction, Charlotte knew one thing for certain: she was not looking forward to class with him next week. 

Loki, irritated about the incident at the coffee shop, loudly slammed the door to his office. The insolence. He shook his head as he thought about the young woman who dared to give him attitude. He couldn’t believe the audacity of such a simple human brashly arguing with him like that in the coffee shop he had been frequenting since he’d moved here. Loki huffed, trying to push her out of his mind as he sank into the large brown chesterfield couch in his office. 

He sat quietly for a moment, refocusing his attention on his surroundings. Naturally, he had been able to get himself the best office on campus. After thousands of years, humans were still easily manipulated into giving him what he wanted. His office was tucked away in the library building, where it was quiet. It was also huge, with large windows overlooking the south quad. Loki hated to admit that the view was gorgeous, and that he had started to get attached to this space. This had become his sanctuary when he was on campus. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as his head rested on the back of the couch. 

Five years down. They had been the longest in his life. And he still had no idea how much longer he’d be here. Twenty years? Fifty years? While the time should go quickly for the former god, the days were feeling longer, and a sense of restlessness had taken hold of him. 

He would’ve preferred jail to this. He could just sit and read. Instead, he was made to get a job. Like a peasant. Odin knew exactly what he was doing when he delivered this punishment.

On top of the mundane life that Loki now led, he felt bound up not being able to use his magic. It was as if someone had tied his arms behind his back– the feeling of the phantoms of magic tingling his fingertips, never to truly form. Yes, he still knew his spells. He still had the innate knowledge of a divine magic user– but Odin had stripped him of the ability to use it. It was as useless to him as it was to mortals. 

A new fear had begun to creep into the back of his mind over the past few months– that he would never have his magic returned. That he may remain mortal forever. That fear was the worst that plagued Loki, and he pushed it away to the farthest reaches of his mind, locked tight in a box he tried to ignore. 

His dreams of late had taken him to previous battles, or chaotic cosmic events where he was able to truly be himself. But the reality of his life now was that there was no excitement, no thrills that satisfied him. 

He had tried to fill this void when he first arrived by partying and fucking nearly half the city. Debauchery had been a great distraction, but that enthusiasm waned over time. Then he started joining dojos and trying to get accepted into local weapons clubs. He was quickly kicked out of all of them– mortal men do not like being shown up by a 1200 year old former god. And Loki wasn’t challenged, it was just too easy. He briefly missed Thor– he was a formidable opponent to spar with. 

Whenever Thor was on Earth, he would text Loki, reaching out to check in. Loki ignored those texts. It was bad enough that the Avengers would sometimes send someone to check in on him, showing up nonchalantly and disrupting his class. It was a reminder that he was in prison, and they were his jailors. Loki sneered a look of disgust thinking about their patronizing attitude. Everyone– Thor, the Avengers, SHIELD– was waiting to see him fuck up. Make one mistake, then he’s done. Odin would have no qualms with bringing Loki’s life to an unceremonious end. 

But Loki had stayed here this long, and one day, he’ll be out of here. He just needed to ignore this new, clawing feeling of agitation that had begun to grow in the last couple of months. 

Loki had also changed a small amount since he had been banished here, and he knew it. Softened. He had even begun to enjoy some of the student’s conversations last year. So maybe the growing feeling of unease was because he knew he was changing? Or was it the mischief– calling to him, urging him to cause disruption again? He had walked the straight and narrow for years…it was exhausting fighting against his own nature constantly. And boring. 

He hummed thoughtfully to himself as he relaxed in the warm yellow glow of the room, picking up the class roster and reviewing the list of names. Twenty five students, full class again. At least half of them would be gone by the end of the semester. They normally started off the year excited, asking him a bunch of inane questions in the beginning (this year he was going to start the first class with an FAQ to get those out of the way). 

But once they saw how rigorous the class was, and learned about Loki’s high standards, most dropped the class. Last year he was lucky to have a few very enthusiastic students who seemed genuinely interested in Asgard. It was often a mix of students who just wanted to brag about being there, those who were trying to fuck him (or trying to fuck Thor somehow), or lazy students who were taking the class because their parents made them. 

Loki stood and walked over to his record player, pulling out a favorite recording of Caprices of Paginini, and put it on, sighing. He stepped over to his large mahogany desk and opened his laptop for the first time since school had let out in May. 

He had spent the summer as he did every year on Midgard– exploring the far reaches of the planet. He figured that if he was stuck here, he may as well approach this realm with scholarly zeal. The planet had pleasantly surprised him in its range of biomes, cultures, sights, and foods. Somewhere along the line, Loki began to appreciate parts of living on Earth. He wouldn’t dare say it out loud, but there were some things he truly enjoyed that humans had produced. 

He spent a few minutes reviewing his emails, nothing of much importance that he had to respond to. They wanted him to do another speaker night, of course. That was a big donor night. And the librarian, Ms. Warren, who had a very obvious crush on him, informed him of the new literature they had stocked for the year. Nothing interesting there.

Loki unceremoniously closed the computer, bored with its contents. His thoughts drifted again to the young woman in the coffee shop, spitting attitude and disrespect towards him. He felt his irritation building back in his chest. She was a nobody, and she dared to speak to him like that. Why did it bother him so much?

Chapter 2

LYHOM Masterlist

LYHOM Playlists

Buy me a coffee 💚

[eleniblue]

Co-director Joe Russo says Thanos ultimately murders Loki “for disobedience.“ 

“Remember, he [Thanos] had a relationship with Loki, even if it was off-screen where he entrusted him with a duty in ‘Avengers 1’ and Loki failed,” pointed out “Infinity War” screenwriter Stephen McFeely.                                                                                                   

“He’s [Thanos] making him [Loki] pay,” added Joe Russo.       

“Thanos has a long memory,” McFeely concluded.        

[eleniblue]

Emotional Walls Your Character Has Built (And What Might Finally Break Them)

(How your character defends their soft core and what could shatter it) Because protection becomes prison real fast.

✶ Sarcasm as armor. (Break it with someone who laughs gently, not mockingly.) ✶ Hyper-independence. (Break it with someone who shows up even when they’re told not to.) ✶ Stoicism. (Break it with a safe space to fall apart.) ✶ Flirting to avoid intimacy. (Break it with real vulnerability they didn’t see coming.) ✶ Ghosting everyone. (Break it with someone who won’t take silence as an answer.) ✶ Lying for convenience. (Break it with someone who sees through them but stays anyway.) ✶ Avoiding touch. (Break it with accidental, gentle contact that feels like home.) ✶ Oversharing meaningless things to hide real depth. (Break it with someone who asks the second question.) ✶ Overworking. (Break it with forced stillness and the terrifying sound of their own thoughts.) ✶ Pretending not to care. (Break it with a loss they can’t fake their way through.) ✶ Avoiding mirrors. (Break it with a quiet compliment that hits too hard.) ✶ Turning every conversation into a joke. (Break it with someone who doesn’t laugh.) ✶ Being everyone’s helper. (Break it when someone asks what they need, and waits for an answer.) ✶ Constantly saying “I’m fine.” (Break it when they finally scream that they’re not.) ✶ Running. Always running. (Break it with someone who doesn’t chase, but doesn’t leave, either.) ✶ Intellectualizing every feeling. (Break it with raw, messy emotion they can’t logic away.) ✶ Trying to be the strong one. (Break it when someone sees the weight they’re carrying, and offers to help.) ✶ Hiding behind success. (Break it when they succeed and still feel empty.) ✶ Avoiding conflict at all costs. (Break it when silence causes more pain than the truth.) ✶ Focusing on everyone else’s healing but their own. (Break it when they hit emotional burnout.)

[eleniblue]

[eleniblue]

There's no question: gender affirming care saves lives.

If you wouldn't accept a trans or queer child, you shouldn't be a parent.

[eleniblue]

When Everything's Made to be Broken - Chapter 27: Show Some Skin

Summary: With Loki’s encouragement, Theo starts taking control of the narrative.

Contents: Slow burn, baby! And some quality ensemble cast times.

Word Count: 4,602

Author’s Note: Hey fam, it was long week so I barely got this update on AO3 before going to bed... and I'm finally getting it uploaded to tumblr today 😅 anyways, plz enjoy. Xoxo

If you want to be on a tag list, lmk! As always, comments/reblogs are appreciated ❤️ Next update will be Sunday, June 29! When Everything's Made to Be Broken Series (Archive of Our Own) | When Everything's Made to be Broken Masterlist (Tumblr)

Show Some Skin

Song: Desperate Measures - Marianas Trench

Gonna make a heartthrob out of me Just a bit of minor surgery These desperate times call for desperate measures  I’ll give you something to cry about Show some skin and would be caché, how Could you let this get to desperate measures now?

Ironically, the “revamp Theo’s image” campaign sort of began with minor surgery.

Well—a haircut.

Blunt bangs, hacked off with trauma shears in the Emergency Department bathroom six hours into a 24-hour shift. Her hair had been falling into her eyes all afternoon—static and sweat and stress conspiring against her while she was elbow-deep in someone’s abdomen, heart thudding in her ears, suction roaring like surf.

It wasn’t even a conscious decision. She’d glanced up, saw her reflection in the mirror—pale under fluorescent lights, streaked with someone else’s blood, silver strands glued to her cheekbone—and thought, Enough.

She grabbed the trauma shears from her pocket, leaned over the sink, and snipped.

No ceremony. No second-guessing. Just hair in the trash and a sudden, surprising sense of relief.

The residents didn’t dare comment. Julie and Marcos, upon seeing her emerge from the staff bathroom looking like she’d lost a bet to a ghost in a bar fight, exchanged a look. The kind of look you give a raccoon when it’s too late to back away slowly. But—wisely—they said nothing.

It wasn’t until after her shift, when Loki caught sight of her across the living room and raised a single brow in that maddening, infuriatingly observant way of his.

“New look?” he asked, voice dry and mildly amused.

That was when it hit her:

She’d accidentally joined the Sisterhood of the Chopped Fringe – the walking, blunt-banged cliché of a post-breakup spiral.

Oh shit.

But… honestly?

She didn’t care. It meant less hair to wrangle, and if nothing else it was a story to laugh about later.

Before the tabloids could whip themselves into a froth over “Dr. Theo Amaris’s Alarming Descent” or speculate whether grief had finally snapped her like a dry twig, she beat them to the punch.

She posted a selfie after her shift, cleaned up but still in scrubs, the new bangs evened out and unapologetically sharp. The caption read:

“Hot girl summer requires cool girl hair.”

Let them try to spin that.

Read the rest on AO3 ->

[eleniblue]

Tom Hiddleston by Luke Fontana 2025 for BuzzFeed

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FREYJA 2, part 14 🔥😌

ok. Wrong place. Freyja please don’t follow them 😗

BEGINNING/PREV/NEXT

More on Patreon! 💕

[eleniblue]

Mob Drabbles

A collection of various mob AUs

Thor

Take a Seat | Take It Slow | Take Your Time

August Walker

The Vow | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Loki

A Touch of Sweetness | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

Bucky Barnes

Death Wish | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16

Steve Rogers

Sum of All | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18

Nick Fowler

Hush | 2 | 3

Captain Syverson

The Olde Bakery | 2

Peter Parker

Sense and Sensibility

Frank Castle

In a Place Like This | 2

[eleniblue]

[eleniblue]

Variant. Loki x Fem. Reader, Ch 2

A/N: I’m so happy this is doing well! You can find it on my ao3 as well, though updates will always be here first. Check out the first chapter if you haven’t already!

Enjoy!

________________________________

The silence weigh heavily between the two of you. Both variants of the person the other was meant to love. It was an odd twist of fate. A cruel one too. Loki stared at you in a way that could be described as nothing short of yearning. Desperate, irrevocable yearning. Eyes so full of longing there was nothing else within them.

Your own looked pained as you stared off into nothingness. The tears continued to dribble down your cheeks. Though you couldn’t feel them. Nothing could touch you with the intense devastation consuming your every fiber. You couldn’t describe why you were so heartbroken over this.

Over something that never even happened. Over someone you would never meet. A loss of a life, of a love. If it was all written and long since predetermined, what was left for you now? Nothing? Life all at once seemed so utterly dull. Barren and grey. Not only had you broken a law against the universe, but it had cost you your happiness. 

Your body seemed to be on autopilot as you leant your head back. The ceiling stare back you in a way that served to drown you in your emotions further. Like in a water of pitch black. The current so strong it shoved you deeper into its’ bottomless depths, and all you could do was watch the bubbles rise up to the surface. Slower and slower, until you could no longer breathe.

Just as the last bubble escaped your view, Loki spoke. In that same instant, the water vanished. Your eyes slowly wandered over to him. He looked like he wasn’t far from your state of mind.

“Are you going to be alright?”

The question sounding from his lips added on to the weight of the air. Pondering it, your gaze pulled back to the ceiling. You already knew your answer: No, you wouldn’t. But those words didn’t touch your tongue.

”Did you have a me, in your timeline?”

He drew in a strained breath at your change of subject. With the way you were behaving now, how would you react to the fate his timeline's variant of you met? His tongue slipped between his lips, wetting them. A weak gulp made its way down his throat. Still, he couldn't just not answer your question.

"Yes, I did."

"Where you connected to her?"

"Unbelievably so"

His words echoed in your ears like a ringing bell. So that was a reoccurring theme. The two of you, close. A vague curiosity crossed your mind, "Were you two romantically involved?" the words left your mouth before you could stop yourself.

"Not exactly, no. We.. Had a mutual interest in each other, but she passed before anything could blossom"

"Oh."

So it was meant to be. The two of you, doomed. Maybe you could be each other's, and not let the predetermined fates decide. It was a stupid thought. He was working for the TVA for some reason, and you were their prisoner. You could almost laugh at yourself for even thinking that. You bring your gaze back up to Loki.

He didn't like the look in your eyes. But, he didn't like any of this at all. He had just begun to fall for Sylvie, even kissed her. And now here you were, destroying everything connection he thought he had built. Knocking down all the beams to his foundations. You give him a small nod.

Better just move on from this topic, for both your sakes. With a small clear of your throat, you shook off all those emotions. Your eyes dropped to the floor while you contemplated what to say. What was there to say? Nothing could make this better, that was completely out of the question. A part of you wanted to apologize to him, but you didn't know what for.

Something about this whole situation made you feel guilty. Though, in a way, you were both the victim here. Meanwhile, Mobius was marching hurriedly to Ravonna's office. He had told B-15 to listen closely to whatever you and Loki were talking about while he was gone. For safety reasons and to avoid getting in trouble.

Nonetheless, this entire situation was worrying. The chances of Ramona letting work for the TVA how Loki was were extremely slim. When he got to her office she was doing some paperwork. She glanced up at the opening door briefly, checking who it was before returning her attention to her papers.

"Mobius. Tell me you have good news"

"When do I not?"

She shot Mobius a glare, to which he shrugged.

"Alright, that one wasn't funny. But I do have a proposition for you"

"Prune Loki? Great idea, I'm glad you've finally come to your senses about that"

Mobius laughed, pointing at finger at her, "Now that is a good one. But no, close though. I'll give you that"

"Get to the point, Mobius."

"Uh, right." He falters momentarily, taking a seat on one of the couches in the center of Ravonna's office. "I had this idea see, regarding Loki. And a new variant who just came in today"

"If it's not one I oversaw then I really can't help you. And if it is one I oversaw then absolutely not"

"Aw c'mon you haven't even let me propose my idea fully! Let alone who it is!"

"Fine." She slams her pen down on the desk, looking up at Mobius with a stern glare. This was going worse than he had imagined. Ravonna gestured at him before folding her hands on her desk. "C'mon Mobius, let's hear it."

"Now look, I know you said no taking in any variant workers, but I really think this one can help us. So, what if, and humor me here, we bring that new Y/N variant on to the team?"

"What?! No! With Loki, let alone thing one?! Are you kidding me?! With his clear display of actions already, him and the other Loki will kidnap her and run off! She-"

"No, that's my point! We use her to our advantage. Yes, anyone who's ever worked with a Loki knows that a Y/N is bound to be in there somewhere, yes? And he loves her, she dies, he goes berserk, yada yada yada. But what if we use that to our advantage, hmm?"

That got her attention. Ravonna perked up, straightening her back once more as if to tell him to continue. Mobius laughed, wagging his finger at her. "Knew that would get your attention. We could hold her above his head. And he'll fall for it. Why wouldn't he? This variant of her is practically the exact same as the one from his timeline"

"And how are you going to do that?"

"Great question. So, we get her to work for us, and in turn she'll get him wrapped around her thumb while she's wrapped around the TVA's. And we'll tell him, hey, if you're out of line, she's as good as gone. Then no more teaming up with the other variant because he'll be too worried about Y/N getting pruned if he's out of line."

"Okay, fine. But this is the last thing I'm approving for you Mobius. Mess this up and they're both getting pruned. Understood?"

"You're the boss" Mobius flashes Ravonna a smile before getting up and leaving her office. That went much better than he had expected it to go. Only thing left to do was talk you into working for them. Hopefully that would be a piece of cake. While those two talked though, you continued your own conversation with Loki. There was a long awkward silence between the two of you. His gaze remained glued to you for a bit as he thought. There had to be a way to break you out of this trance. Making an educated guess based off the brief look over of your file, he could see you really essentially the same as the Y/N from his timeline. But, he never saw his variant of you like this.

"What I can't understand is what's so dangerous about you"

You look up at Loki with a confused expression on. What was he talking about? You sit up, shifting to face him properly.

"What..?"

"Mobius, he's an analyst for particularly dangerous variants. But you.." he looks down at your file, thumbing through the papers, "you haven't any powers, nor a criminal record. I doubt you've even got a hair out of place on your head. You're easily the least dangerous variant to have even been taken in by the TVA. So why is Mobius working your case?"

You pause at his explanation, your brow furrowing heavily. Mobius hadn't mentioned that he was an analyst for dangerous variants. Simply that he was an analyst and worker for your case. There wasn't anything dangerous about you, and you would know. Maybe your lack of shame when drunk, but that was the riskiest thing about you. Like Loki said, no powers, nothing. You were just a normal person. A secretary working at a Politian's office. Your life couldn't have been more mundane.

"I.. don't know."

"Hmm. I wonder" Loki muttered under his breath, then working the keys to that odd looking orange computer looking thing. The projection started back up again. First with you bumping into the Loki from your timeline. Him getting furious that you ruined his paperwork and demanding to know your name. In a hurry to get out of the situation, you accidentally give him your boss's business card. rather than your own. To which he ends up calling your boss and getting you fired. On whim, he ended up firing his own secretary. In need of a job, you apply to fill the newly opened position at his office now knowing it was his. You got the job, unbeknownst to Loki as the day you started work, he walked into his office and saw you sitting at your desk, then getting furious. He demanded that you get out and whoever hired you need be fired as well.

Though, you're able to talk him into giving you a chance. He continues his presidential campaign, surprisingly satisfied with your work. Getting to know you better, slowly but surely he started to fall for you. And you him. You end up getting married after some messy situations and getting him out of them. Though, about three year into being in office and two years of being with him, you get assassinated. That was it? You don't do anything bad. You serve as an anchor until death. Just as is version of you did. Mobius hadn't gone as far as to show you your death as Loki just did. Still, there wasn't anything dangerous about that.

"I still don't get it. You're not dangerous at all." Loki stated with a look of confusion still on. Just then, Mobius came back into the theater.

"Great news people! Y/N, how would you like to join our team?"

"What?" You and Loki voice in unison, turning to look at the man approaching. Join the team? Had he lost his mind? After that speech he had given Loki before about you being a potential compromise to him. It didn't make any sense.

"What do you mean, join your team?"

"Be a worker variant like Loki! If you help with this case effectively, then hey, who knows what kind of good news that could mean for you? Maybe even and audience with the Time Lords."

"That's absurd." Loki cut in.

"Is it? I think it's a great idea. And, I just went and got approval from Judge Renslayer. All we need is a yes from Y/N here to get the ball rolling."

"What good does seeing the Time Lords do for me? Get stuck working for you guys forever? I'm good"

"Or, maybe if you're a big enough help here then you can get put back into your timeline. How awesome does that sound?"

Horrible to Loki. He looked over at you, fear prominent in his eyes. You however, seemed to be contemplating your options. Go back to your timeline. Fall in love but get shot. Stay here and work for the TVA and do to other people what they've already done to you. Neither of those alternatives sounded particularly nice.

"No."

"No?"

"No. I die either way, right? Go home, get killed. Stay here, kill people and then end up dead anyway. Where's the silver lining there?"

Loki was genuinely surprised at your response. Perhaps you were different from the version of you that he knew after all. Mobius however, fumbled at it. You made a good argument for yourself.

"It could change. I mean, who knows?"

You thought some more. Change. You doubted that the Time Lords would change your fate just because you work for them. It sounded too good to be true, or just flat out fucked. But, you didn't have any other options by the look of it.

[eleniblue]

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