#Loki x oc eventual

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The White Dove Pt 40 - Hawkeye

The White Dove Masterlist

@devilishminx328​. @theincaprincess​, @lilith15000​, @jesevans​, @jiminapickle

“First Selvig, now Hawkeye,” you muttered to yourself feeling bees eased out of the pockets down the sides of your heavily pocketed black jeans that tucked into your knee high boots and thick socks to cover the holes down the front of your shins. Just off a bus to Washington and you adjusted the lay of your open flannel and vest over the stripe patterned sheer tank top you had on under the strap of your cross body whale shark shaped bag that from behind your shoulder hung to the back of your leg just under your knee. On the ride you had pulled your hair back into a long braid now littered with bees ready to help you disguise yourself. Back under the sun a straight shot for a more secluded part of town was your goal.

Laid out like a small theme park each building was linked to various endeavors. Almost overflowing with angles to be filmed just on the edge of the city, since out of a large crowd in projections your bees disguised you as Nick Fury, you felt the cameras hit your near to invisible self projecting an irritated assassin.

Past the gates with a recognizable face following the layout Chester was feeding you mentally crowds parted all the way to the first set of doors you had to get past to enter a marble and steel crafted building. Inside the elevator between your lips out of your pocket you eased a cube of flavorful gum as fake Nick were seen to lift the fake milkshake disguised in your left hand to sip on. The sugary treat he was known to love made another use as people who had taken notice of him would allow him past without need to disturb his snacking.

One hallway through bodies and a warning from Chuck, who was watching the people aimed your way on the security feed, had you round the corner mid ripple inside a gap of cameras to change your appearance as Natasha Romanoff. A single pop of a bubble and a disguise of a scowl named the mood that had bodies part to clear a way for you to the records room inside of SHIELD HQ. Right out of the door you needed Nick Fury exited and gave your shorter assassin disguised self a once over to another pop of her gum to match yours. “Thought you were off to shadow Stark on his satellite idea.”

“He needs some tape.” You said in an attempt to be vague only making him chuckle as you readied to blow another bubble.

“Not sure how Howard’s records could help him, but anything’s worth a shot.” His voice faded as he readied to turn the same corner you had come from, missing the plant of your hand on the door handle that in its press down your disguise turned back to Fury now sans milkshake. Fake Fury had the secretary inside what seemed to be a dead end of a black marble and polished silver windowless room look up at you with a curious smirk. The handle meant to have locked on the security system showed he accessed it again.

“Forget something?”

“Just occurred to me I did. Kick myself for wasting a trip back if I didn’t grab it now.”

Softly she chuckled as you walked right to a hidden single person sized elevator revealed when the door sank into the wall that closed behind you to drop you in a near weightless experience at the speed it took to travel the mile distance.

Inside the belly of the records room through a wide hallway you traveled to a thinner one to reach a hidden tile door on the wall that popped out when pushed to reveal a file cabinet. Names on files were flipped through to reach Clint Barton’s file, out of which seven travel alias paper packages were grouped. The one you chose was lifted behind your head. Inside the mouth pocket on your whale shark bag was unzipped to hold the package with your own papers then zipped again so you could put the file back and head back up again.

Where the real Fury went to check on other agents, back down and out the front entrance you walked with little notice or bother until back into civilian territory you dropped the disguise to walk off weirdly for the wilds.

Over three hours you walked following the pathway in your mind on the hiking trail until you found a lone black metal crate with an eyelet on the top of it. Confirmation of its sturdiness came with your sunset lit discovery of the lock on the side you opened to ease the door back to climb inside. Around you the bees lit the empty space as you closed the door and rotated the submarine wheel latch like lock. Back into the crate you centered yourself, pressing your back to one wall and feet to the other in a flash off Nigel’s back on the distance of the inbound shielded jet coming to fetch you.

Dozens of feet long a hook ended rod out the open belly of the jet on time was felt latching onto the eyelet beginning a jolt of a lift off the ground and into the air. Wind loudly slammed and screamed around the crate all the three minute long way up into the belly of the craft, that once sealed, granted the team of tactical gear clad men less interference to their music. All watching from seats around Deadpool, who gave the top of the crate a rhythm based knock.

“Hey there Starshine.” He said to your open of the door, making you giggle in the climb out. “Ooh, love the bag, new?”

“Well needed a bigger one to hold a change of clothes for Clint. Never tell you how much more space you need for pants when you’re tall. Never had that problem myself.”

Deadpool chuckled replying, “One of the unspoken perils of higher heights, that’s not even talking about the nightmare of anything foot related. Heels to flip flops you could fit three pairs in your bag I bet, have to line one of mine sideways to fit.”

“Found some sneakers that can push flat with decent soles for that.”

Straight to the seating area he led you to find snacks set up around their maps to show the spot they were being dropped at on the way to your drop zone.

.

Just beyond the mark zone you were warned by the open of the back hatch. Now ready in a wetsuit, waterproof cover for your bag and face shield to the hatch you walked muttering a quote to yourself before you would fling yourself out of the plane. Eyeing the timed different grids of power that in a rollout shut off in turns as you took a step closer to the edge of the hatch. Wind again whipped around you and the growing sound of waves was your goal.

A goal you hit hard and fast feet first to exhale through the pain and ease the breather you had in hand between your lips to begin kicking on a goal for shore. Miles out to sea and quietly in the dark you made it ashore to strip out of the one use waterproof layers you buried in the dirt you designed to break into seeds within a week to not leave a trace.

And again you were hiking to your goal in the dark with just your bees mentally sharing night vision a goal was in sight. Making good use of the window of no power for the city to slip inside its borders and blend into the confused masses lighting the streets on their own in various manners. This time however you had a soundtrack stuck in your head from the flight over playing on Deadpool’s boom box.

.

“Down here,” softly Yggdrasil spoke to you of another root you assumed and mentally murmured an apology that you did not have the time to explore the root connection today as disguised as one of the guards you simply passed through the multi layered bunker beneath a simple fish market. Tucked between a waterside town and rural stretches of farms out in Japan this hideaway laced with echoes of odd layered voices of those inside it to seem under a sort of daze.

Cells with shimmering walls showing the hall outside of it on those that glittered, compared to the mirrored effect the solid glowing barriers on some cells, lined to show disgruntled to bored prisoners with eyes not as bright as those you had passed clearly between lapses of mind control substances.

“Psst,” you said and clearly Clint had heard it before as he laid across the marble floor of his cell in just the towel he was given after his last ordered bathing session like the other naked or towel clad prisoners in wait for fresh clothes.

Deeply he sighed and said, “What do you want now Buffalo Bill? You gonna throw some lotion and a basket at me?”

“I have some lotion,” you said instantly turning his head to find a well over six foot man making his brows furrow to the movement of the mouth as you said in your own voice, “A basket might be a hard find.”

“What, did you, just say,” he said rolling onto his side to prop up on a hip to help his chilly goose bump riddled self sit up.

Your disguise dropped as did his jaw as you said, “I said I have lotion, but a basket would be a hard find.” Closer to the wall around the shimmering barrier you stepped now visually holding your bag in front of you with one hand to stick a round metal button on the wall that had his cell barrier flicker in timed intervals.

“How-,” he tried to speak but grabbed all you tossed to him so he could scramble to get dressed while you turned around with a hand raised over your eyes to give Clint privacy but not stare at the naked strutting man across from him showing off to himself on his mirrored barrier wall.

“One, two,” his shoes hitting the ground at your side signaled your turn to grin up at him mid reach for the button you pocketed. “Pluto,” softly he let out a breath of relief and asked, “What’s the plan?” Assuming there was some covert mission plan that got around the council having to approve his discovery then aided escape with the rest or part of the team or at least Misique and some of the Vigilantes waiting for him.

“We walk out,” off your hair the three bees that he smiled watching take flight to land on his head and those he didn’t see release your legs to latch onto his. Now in jeans a t shirt and the baggy flannel you had taken off to swap for a mint cardigan, with spare boots a bit big on him he drew in a breath and turned to stroll as casually as he could at your side, even while seeing he was a petite woman that almost had him crack up laughing.

From out in the fish markets to the bustling streets he noticed the bees split off subtly to latch onto you again then looked up at your glance up at him. “Just up over this hill,” you said in the split of the street from paved to dirt head off into the distance.

“Jet parked over there?”

“Jet?” you asked in another glance up at him.

“Pluto please tell me we’re meeting the team over that hill.”

“I’m sorry, were you waiting for the Avengers to find you? I can take you back until they do.”

Shaking his head in a disbelieving chuckle he replied, “No, I am not going back. I swear, when I’m not someone’s sock puppet it’s timed baths and nothing but fruit and nuts like I’m some kind of squirrel.”

“That’s actually a very poor diet for a squirrel,” you said making him smirk.

“You know what I mean. Then, Luke Cage? Um, that Cap, I think Elektra has a jet.”

“She’s actually out in Peru this time of year. Needed a break, but if you ask me I think it’s one of those classic novels going away to hide a pregnancy type trip. She was a bit mum on details of how long she’d be gone. Either that or she’s gotten a severe muscular injury and she needs to learn to function again tactically.”

“How’d you get here Pluto?”

“I swam.” You said making him huff. “I kind of promised I wouldn’t say. It’s a super secret craft and a super secret team that had a stop on the way here to Japan, so, I hitched a ride and jumped out to get ashore.”

Sharply he drew in a breath and asked, “You jumped out of a plane?”

“Well you sat by my bedside after Goblin snatched me and I might have taken that as a sign you wanted to be friends.” Making his brows lift up, “You wouldn’t jump out of a plane for a friend? I know you’ve done it for cash, and for Black Widow.”

“Pluto please don’t tell me you’re here alone and now we’re both stuck here in, is this Japan? Sounded like Japan, but that one Laos family was pretty big.” He asked with brows furrowed now in confusion to try and place where you were in the world.

“It’s Japan.”

“Pluto?”

“Question for a question,” you said making him sigh, “Where’s the nearest brook?”

“How am I supposed to know that?” he muttered to himself and looked around at the tall grass and grain filled fields around the road then back to you so he could shrug.

You pointed off one way saying, “Brook is that way.” Then another, “There’s berry bushes that way,” and at a farther distance ahead at the deer in the road you pointed for his eyes to fall upon, “And they’re asking each other if we are linked to the hunter who has a hidden hut beyond those rocky hills beyond the brook by an apparently foul smelling bush.”

That had his eyes narrow and lips part, “As friends, I can talk to plants and animals, all living things really, even insects and on the occasion solid steel craft who have a good deal of earth in them, but that’s more a feeling for if they have damage or are close to wearing thin.”

“What?” he asked softly as you looked down to avoid a lizard that crawled out of a hole in the road beside a small rock.

“No one ever asks me why my parents were taken from me and I was hidden. Someone saw me in our garden as a child. I’m special, the other girls weren’t, at least as far as I knew of. Everything, everywhere I go I can hear what it says. The trees, grass, animals, they all share where food is, danger, pathways,” up at him again you looked as he started to feel that realization set in for your powers. “I can find anyone, anything. Drop me anywhere. Imagine if one of the Widows could do that.”

“I would rather not.” He said softly making you giggle to yourself and look forward again. “It’s not cuz you were in the same boat,” he said to himself, “You and Misique can hear things we can’t.”

“The yin to my yang in some instances. I help with tech and meds, she brings the boom.” He nodded and you said, “She’s not here either. But we’ll catch a ride at the next town.”

“And that’s-,” he nodded and said with you, “Just over the hill.”

After a few minutes he asked, “So do you have to make animal noises? Or do you just talk normally?”

“Some animals are non verbal, so there’s a level of telepathy involved but most I can just talk to. The country and language they are used to does trouble some with verbal, an elephant in Africa once I had to get the dialect right before it would let us help it get unstuck.”

“This isn’t cutting into your summer plans, is it?”

“Oh no, Eddie had to take a work trip real quick and I’ll be back and finish packing before he gets back.”

“Did you tell him you were coming after me? He could report you missing!”

“He knows. Got a friend to help with the flight home.”

“So there is a plan! Good! Do I get to know the plan?”

“I’ve got a surprise planned for you,” you said with a grin up at him.

“Consider me surprised already, I’m out of that cage, spoil it, what’s the plan?”

“Your birthday is in five hours, if we count American time, I planned some fun stuff for you. Won’t take long, then you’ll be on your way home to your wife and babies.”

“How are you so calm?” he asked plainly making you giggle and look up at him.

“There are anomalies galore surrounding where you were taken on that mission Widow and Iron Man had you for backup on. Just like with Dr Selvig. Now, no promises you won’t be snatched up again but you don’t have to worry Hydra didn’t take you and from my alien contacts through Venom it is a lone entity who is shielding their efforts from mortal discovery.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Chaos follows me. I am calm because when I panic, people die.”

“Like that Thane guy.”

“Just like that. Besides, even if it was Hydra their only card left is to play Bucky, aside from that new plan to turn Goblin into an android to save his ‘brilliant mind’ from further destruction.”

“Two things, Bucky’s their card?”

“They had Widow, you took her, Cooper, I took him, Bucky’s left. Honestly I don’t see why any of you are afraid of them, more like Team Rocket these days now their roster is lacking any real depth. I mean they have a few sharp shooters but so does anyone really these days so that isn’t anything to be afraid of. All they have now is the big ego to keep up the façade of intimidation.”

Blinking at that information he chose to ask, “How do you know about the Goblin thing?”

“Venom demands my safety so we’ve been keeping track of Goblin’s movements.”

“And, that, doesn’t scare you?”

“Oh he’s going to be met with a very unfortunate accident when he’s activated to leave the facility the first time. Long as he stays in captivity their little toy won’t blow up in their face. Therapist said I had to face the effect of his damage to the world in a means to get at me to find self peace but honestly I think Misique hacking a fail safe plan is more comforting to my self peace than sending him a letter SHIELD wouldn’t let him read anyways.”

“Why do you think they wouldn’t let him read it?”

“I’m sort of on the edge of being his hair trigger to harming people. I wouldn’t let him read anything from me.”

“You must have a very good therapist.”

“I think so. You?”

“Mine got shot, in between them right now till they get back to business.” He said matter of factly.

“Have you ever played hide and seek with a toddler?” you asked making him grin.

“It’s my favorite game.”

“Been seeing tons of feeds with kids hiding behind their hands or lamp poles, just a time of bliss such ignorance.” Making his smile widen as you started to ramble to help his still racing heartbeat slow down so he wouldn’t worry the people on the path ahead.

 *.*.*

“Where, is Barton?” Prince Loki asked, his hand pressed to his side having been forced to again extend some of his powers to a task at hand to keep his badly broken ribs from healing faster since being transported here with his mission by Thanos. All of his other minions were here, all ready to accept the fresh supply of clothes the Prince had retrieved for his team to keep them well handled and comfortably clean, fed and tailored while under his watch.

“He, was in his interim chamber after his bath like the others.” One of the guards said making the weary Prince with dark circles around his boldly glowing blue eyes jut out his lower jaw a moment in irritation and wonder for how this would affect his plan without Barton.

“Do you wish for us to track him?”

“No,” Loki all but growled in a stare at the empty cell using Asgardian tech meant to keep its prisoner in that none on this planet should be able to conquer. “No we are moving the plan ahead.”

“My Prince?” the original guard asked a bit afraid for his life at this epic mistake.

Loki replied, “Pack up, we are moving to New York. Whomever broke Barton from his cell cannot keep him hidden forever. We shall continue our work in the base I have established there.” Off alone he strode to find a secluded spot to lean against a wall in a fractured try to gain a pain free breath so he would not black out from the pain coursing through his battered and brutalized body from what felt like eons of torture prior to his escape with this plan to find a way to eventually kill his prior captor.

 *.*.*

 Sounds of a city grew closer until a truck was seen readying to carry supplies to a shop out in Tokyo from a workshop here in the country had you say, “We should probably talk about aliases and back story.” Making him look at you. “So your name is Benjamin, lovely name, though you think it’s a bit stuffy and reminds you of your overbearing grandfather who you were named after. So you go by Goober.”

“Goober,” he whispered in an amused tone.

“Just by me. You ran away and we adopted you and we just bonded right away, couldn’t separate us, and now we’re on summer holiday sightseeing but got dropped off rather rudely by some upper crust nuts who we failed to impress back in the fishing city off their luxury cruiser of a yacht and they took off on us.”

“Fine, but everyone else calls me Barker.”

“Figured you’ve have a soft spot for cannibals.” You said poking him in the arm making him roll his eyes.

“You were humming from the Sweeny Todd musical all the way through the markets.”

“Was I?” you asked in a glance up at him, “They had the soundtrack playing on the flight. Thought it was just in my head.”

“Not a bad one though. Ever seen it?”

“Live? No. Only ever got to see ballets or orchestras not actual musicals. Always did want to see a Phantom production though. That and The Little Mermaid, which I doubt plays often if at all anymore.”

Past a couple quaint city houses with people either at work in their gardens or off in the beginning of a walk of their own and to the workshop you strolled to find the curious workers there in the process of loading the truck of goods they were to sell stop to look you both over. Fluent in the language the back story was shared and with confirmation they were headed to Tokyo an agreement was struck to get the tourists back to reaching distance of their hotel or rental. Into the back of the truck you both climbed to ride with the duo who would help to unload the shipment.

.

 “Thank you,” you said, having from the bag now rested on one arm to hang in front of you hand over the pack of cigarettes, Clint internally wondered where you’d gotten them, and a couple bills to compensate them for the ride that let you out on the edge of the city.

“So, is a travel plan my birthday surprise?” He asked hopefully.

Around his arm your arms looped to say, “There is a plan, now I know a nice little place we can get something to eat and I can share the big surprise.”

“Just as long as it’s not sushi. Doesn’t sit well.”

“I don’t eat sushi, you like ramen?”

“Ramen is good.”

“Would take you some place fancier but that road block of cattle earlier put us a bit pinched for time to have a twenty minute wait for food. Plus servings is larger. They feed you well aside from the squirrel days?”

“Surprisingly from what I recall, ya. Baths twice a day, new clothes and shoes, several meals, but those were back and forth on quality.”

“Well we’ll be back before you know it.” Curiously for him he watched you in a fluid path to the ramen shop as if you’d been here a thousand times. Far from unnoticeable but no less a part of the crowd with numerous cheerful fellow teen females who complimented your bag and hair clips you tanked them for. At the back of the line you read the menu as he did, having confirmed for him that he knew Japanese and didn’t need translations.

Bowls the size able to hold melons were loaded up with veggies, slices of beef, noodles and broth in varied styles were filled as you stole a notice of the two familiar Sorcerers who were speaking with a young girl they clearly had paid for her meal. The pair of you smiled and thanked the older male and his son who traded the bowls for the folded bill you offered the teen girl from the register who had refilled the receipt roll. The top pink lined strip you held with receipt of the sale now pressed to the base of the bowl with the offered chopsticks and shallow spoon.

Right to an empty table you both walked and were met by the wife of the elderly man who brought you the teas you had ordered who promptly retreated to serve the group of teens in line behind you. Once in the chairs you asked him with a grin his way shrugging your bag to be laid across your lap, “Up for your gifts now to let your ramen cool?”

Upwards the corners of his mouth tugged, feeling again oddly happy in this wild adventure into his next year of life on a mysterious way to check in with his team. “Sure.”

And he watched you unzip the belly of the whale shark bag to bring out a shark wrapping paper wrapped bundle that he fought his smile in accepting hold of it from you. Quietly he opened the top of the bundle and chuckled in pulling out a smaller copy of your bag in navy with button eyes with a sturdy leather strap. “It’s a cooler version of a fanny pack.”

“Oh it is super cool,” he said squeezing it, “There’s stuff in it?” he asked looking up making you nod mid smile his way. The zipper in the mouth was opened and he chuckled to himself pulling out the yellow shirt he unfolded to see Garfield cuddling with Pooky under the dialog bubble that read, ‘I Hate Mondays.’ Underneath it had a yellow wallet to match, Pooky on the front was in a pirate costume he opened to find a few coupons in the card slots around a few ID cards that had his lips part in subtly bringing them out to find his fake name Benjamin Rheldes III he recognized as one of his SHIELD issued aliases. Closing the wallet he looked into the bag to find the rest of his alias travel papers inside the telling parchment pouch of the travel papers to match. The folded slip of paper beside that had him pull it out to read a slip from a spa.

“That’s our next stop, head to toe pampering session.” He looked up at you, and you said, “Flight home isn’t till tonight and they have a fruit based cleansing snack course that is supposed to be incredible.”

“You’re taking me to a spa?”

“Thought you might like some pampering after being locked up and all. Even if you haven’t gone there a good head massage can just change your outlook on the week ahead.”

“This says couple’s massage.”

“Oh I’ve been there with Bucky before, it is just a double bed massage room they call couple to make it simple.”

“What’s a hair treatment?” he asked.

“Scalp treatment, they use steam and wash your hair and even style it after a couple massaging treatments, even give you an eyebrow mask.” He blinked at you with an awkward grin splitting across his face at the odd distraction, “Much more comfortable than finding a hotel to wait in. Plus it’s a 13 hour flight back to New York so you would want to do the sleeping there.”

“Have you booked the flight?”

“I have an email confirmation ticket since they’re bought on miles from Eddie’s friend who wanted us to have a comfortable ride back.”

“Have you called Eddie since you got to Japan to check in?”

“Not him, but the friend booking the tickets to confirm I didn’t need to postpone the flight.” Off the napkin you lifted the chopsticks as he carefully folded his gifts into his bag he couldn’t help but smile at in laying it across his lap.

“Is he going to relay that to anyone?” He asked lifting his own chopsticks to start on his food.

“Not the way we roll. Best to get you back to New York quietly.”

“So I can be snatched black bag style you mean.”

After you finished chewing and swallowing your mouthful you said, “More fun for you to just stroll in on their cork board plan or however they plot adventures.” You said making him chuckle around his mouthful as you readied another grouping of ramen.

.

Full and content he strapped the bag around his waist and helped you to carry the dishes to the counter, gladly following you out onto the streets to head for the spa. Luxurious and peaceful the darkly painted waiting room filled with comfy overstuffed furniture and both dim white and colorful light fixtures to help set the mood. Behind the counter a cheerful duo of ladies bowed their heads in greeting and at the mention of your name confirmed they had sprayed to disinfect and ventilate the rooms to not have lavender in it even though it is in the area known for scent and product allergy clients.

Mention of the most camera friendly staff members and a basic set of rules for filming limitations had you clued into them expecting, as they mentioned your videos of travels before, to be featured in a video. Smiles spread on their faces in the lift of your bees when question came for who would be filming or where cameras would be placed.

Confirmation of the treatments ahead and times of when the food and tea courses were to be set, nice locker rooms were the next step, where the both of you stripped to your underwear. You to keep your bottoms on were welcome for your comfort, and with a plushy robe and slippers to put on your bra was left off as they confirmed modesty layers were always used for client and staff comfort. Trading grins you and Clint followed the staff member into the hair treatment room, finger combing your hair to release the braid after pocketing the keys for your lockers. “I think you’d look nice with green hair.” You said to Clint making him chuckle at the color options for hair even you thought to take a try at.

Single use combs were brought out first for the process for the duo of staff members who were adjusting to being encircled by the adorably filming bees. One that filmed the room and supplies as the others focused on the process both for one with long unruly curls and him with his shorter shaggy style that had grown a bit while he was away.

From the initial head scrub and massage to adding a bit of oil a foam and various soap filled hair scrub came next. Steam treatments and a slightly odd dome was placed over the washing bowl that from a tube on the side was filled with a sort of mist to have that soak in.

Once dried a trim for Clint came during your hair being colored with a new hair health and environment friendly semi permanent hair dye that should wash out over a fair bit of time that a spare staff member came to help work into your voluminous hair they assured they did for all clients with more hair or curlier textures like yours. While that sat and Clint’s own hair was being colored you sat back to allow the eyebrow mask to be applied. Washed again and dried the pair of you had mint hair. Once your hair was braided back again the pair of you thanked the ladies and were sat up for the simple neck and shoulder massage to follow that the women said was to help with the tension people felt during the washing and lather processes.

.

Now in the leather reclining chairs along the wall the manicure came first. Mint glittery nails for the both of you were chosen and filmed by the bees who angled themselves better for the start of the arm and hand massages. Including the bit where the bees stopped filming your décolletage portion of the massage. Clint already was melting into his seat after just the head massages and kept stealing a few glances your way ensuring you felt comfortable too. Tea and the meal came between trades of processes to have the process work internally as well as externally for the rest of the scheduled day.

Pedicures in darker glittery grey shades were picked to begin the foot and leg massages. The final room was readied and shown to the cushioned tables the facials with products and massages alike were had while laid on your backs.

To be followed by a sheet filled transfer to your bellies to remove the robes the ladies hung up once they ensured your sides and rear end were covered to only expose your back and part of your lower legs. Clint again to guess your own comfort stole a look your way before placing his head into the face rest and then came dangerously close to making some noises sure to make everyone else uncomfortable for how heavenly it felt compared to the hard floor he had been sleeping on in that interim cell. Knots galore for him and tense tired muscles from walking and swimming between the flight you had little sleep on and the ladies had their work cut out for them.

Unfortunately for you both the time would come to an end and back inside the locker rooms you changed back into your things to head back to the desk where they were so pleased to know you wanted a supply of the hair dye to take with you for when it washed out fully the claimed 30 washes from now. You, however would be buying more online and if you needed to light up then you could re-apply it with Eddie’s help until you wanted to go back to your natural shade to spare the extra task of maintaining it.

“Have to say, I think I like your rescue missions better.” He said on the street again making you giggle as he watched one of your bees adjust itself in your hair. “Are they always filming?”

“No, they do warn me if things pop up however. Helps with the anxiety.”

“I bet,” he said, knowing of at least three times you had been abducted since he’d known you.

Right to the edge of the street he saw you lift a hand and flag down a taxi that came to stop, rolling down its window, “Do you go to the airport?”

“Yes, yes, get in please,” the driver replied and watched you climb in. “No hotel first for your things?”

“No, sent those ahead.” You said and he nodded listening to the airline specifications and started the drive for the airport.

 *.*.* Hours prior *.*.*

 “Natasha, just checking in.” Fury said having called her to hear how Stark was coming along on his latest try to hunt for hints on where Selvig or Clint might be as the same anomalies were left behind both of them.

“No progress so far. Things got on a sort of tangent, now he and Banner are discussing an AI system to prevent crime.”

“Make any use of that film of Howard?”

“What film?” she asked, clearly tired, and huffed at the argument brewing, “I swear, I should have taken training duty with trainees over this bunch, all day since breakfast none of them can stay on topic. Gotta go, let me know about that film you found later.” She hung up the phone and with eyes narrowed Fury, still on the property went to his office. Bypassing the security log in through a back door to the surveillance footage he found the hall and time where he was seen clearly on camera speaking to no one. Tracking back on the different angles out to the front security check he had to huff at the sight of his name being shown on the authorization of identity the guards put in about their invisible visitor.

Back up to the same hall he followed the door he just left to see it open again and the woman inside clearly assume it was him. Pausing the image he zoomed in and ever so faintly in the close of the door caught sight of what could be a bee fly into the elevator. There was no telling what had been seen or taken from inside the records room and he merely had to subtly find his way down there to see if the same anomaly was traced there as well.

 *.*.* Current time *.*.*

.

“Do I wanna know how you got the travel papers?” he murmured to you lowly as you joined the line to the self printing ticket booth closest to where the taxi had let you out.

“I think it’d be more fun to hear about a really odd conversation Nat, probably already has had. Unless Mr Fury finds you a personal confidant, then you’ll have two really odd conversations to hear about.”

Smirking at you he asked with a chuckle, “Fair enough.” He said then cleared his throat at the sight of a little kid who stopped to stare at the both of you with shark bags and mint hair that had the boy turn to gesture at his penguin back pack that had Clint grin and wave as the smiling boy was led away towards a line to have bags checked. “I’ll have you paid back for the spa day.”

“That should be a lovely invoice to receive,” you said making him chuckle again.

“Well it certainly will be a first.”

When the people in front of you walked off with their tickets you brought out your phone to scan the barcode on the electronic confirmation that showed both tickets the machine printed. Out of his bag he brought his travel papers and accepted hold of his while you shrugged your bag in front of you to open the mouth where your papers were to keep your own ticket.

Security was first, a rather simple process as an attendant on the way there flashed you a big smile and helped you and Clint forward to a swifter security line for the seats you had that made you and Clint look at one another curiously for the so called ‘Suite’ classification. But the easy trip through and check of papers took enough time to have a security cart that came to take the two of you to your gate only heightening your curiosity on what sort of seats Riot’s Other had chosen for you. Alone in a private lounge you were left with confirmation someone would come to fetch you on time for your flight.

“Did they say suite?” he asked as you looked over the lavishly furnished lounge to see what it offered.

“They did. But I didn’t pick the seats, so no telling what we’re walking into.”

“Oh that’s comforting,” he muttered to himself following you over to the buffet like supply of food. A bowl of rice you loaded with spicy veggies and meat was joined by a bowl of both fruit and a warm bun was carried to the table he picked with a view of the planes on the tarmac, carrying both his drink and the one you wanted he topped with a plate holding a warm bun of his own.

When he sat down you said, “I can probably look up the airline on youtube if you want. Travel vloggers often do reviews of airlines, might give us a clue.”

Off the top of your drink he moved his plate to offer you your drink while you situated your bowls and lifted your bun to tear a piece off of it to press into the sauce on your spicy meat. “I think we’ll be fine. My wife is gonna go crazy hearing about this though. Last year we splurged and bought me some $40 boots.”

“If you have to say I took you hostage.” You said making him chuckle lifting his cup of tea. “Can I ask how you met?”

Widely his smile split in lowering his drink again. “Met in school. She asked me to pretend to go to a dance with her to piss off her ex. Just never said we were done pretending,” he said with a chuckle. “18, press of a button, she was not gonna let go. Besides, her dad loved me, and he was a nightmare to wear down for anybody else she introduced him to. Takes a bit of wild to get used to my work schedule, but it kind of works, she has patterns that drive me crazy so she sets those while I’m gone and she loves a good story when I get back.”

“Ever go anywhere nice?” You asked lifting your chopsticks from your napkin to sample a bite of the mixture.

“Doesn’t like to fly, she will, but she’s a bit too impatient, but loves a good train. Flew to Italy once and took trains all over Europe after high school. Almost came back married, but that’s a whole other thing with her mom and tears and she ‘had’ to wear the family dress,” he said making you giggle at the irritation in his voice making him chuckle and shake his head. “Did come back pregnant though, mom didn’t get her way anyways by the time we could book the church she wanted us in. But dad got the BBQ pit and it was fun.” After a few bites of your food he asked, “What was that you used on the glowing wall on my cell?”

“Um, frequency inhibiter. Would have used an EMP but the one that strong would have messed with your hearing implants.”

“Ya that would have been awful, last explosion had to have one replaced and it is a nightmare of a recovery for my balance.” Taking a bite of his roll he paused and asked, “How’d you know about my implants?”

Gesturing to the bees you said, “Part of the hologram is a refraction off the magnetic field bodies give off, takes a basic sort of sonar scan at the same time of the person inside and outwards. Senses implants of varying degrees on people around me.”

“Huh,” he said as you took another bite. “Most of the agents who find out I have implants seem shocked.”

“Probably because you have such pretty eyes,” you said making him chuckle again. “All goes down to ableism, can’t be pretty and impaired, some people’s brains just can’t handle it.”

“Thank you, for the compliment, sad to say I heard that as a kid. Before they had a sturdy implant to even consider.” A few moments as you continued to chew then took a sip of your drink he looked your face over and asked, “Any plans, when you are done with school?”

“Not a clue,” you said making him grin tearing at his roll again. “Have my parents’ notes so I want to keep their work alive, it was by chance I got into the Blackhowls. I study various trades my ancestors used to survive,” you shrugged, “I missed eight years of my life to try and find who I was going to be. I’ll figure it out.”

“Well I had a job as a beautician before all this, paying for school by cutting hair and doing makeup. Back home there’s no shortage of demand for beauticians. Figure if I ever have to leave this I have a leg to stand on.”

“Are you the one that does Nat’s hair then?” you asked making him chuckle again.

“On occasion. I do think they want to impress you on this flight. Heard more than one use your title.”

“I’ve known the man for not even a year.” And he shrugged with an amused grin. “Honestly people act like I should be carrying around a scepter or something. All people see are dollar signs following what I can do but they don’t know I have seven more years to wait for it and someone else bought my ticket for me.”

“Other people always buy my tickets. I’m just a guy with a bow. Or I would be, I’m gonna need a new bow when we get back.”

“I made you a bow,” you said making his brow arch up. “Nano tech, in the tail fin with 50 arrows that look like marbles. Lay them on your palm and flip it so it expands. Bit showy but it’ll do in a pinch till you learn how to do a flick with your fingers,” you said pinching two fingers and moving the hand to the side rapidly making him smirk. “You want tranquilizing rounds you grab the fins on the end and push them in, swaps out the tip to a more leggy one,” you said wiggling your fingers gaining a chuckle from him.

“I will be trying that out when we get back. Clearly, we are in an airport, or I would now.”

“Oh come on, cause a scandal,” you teased with a giggle. “Been a week without an Avenger scandal in the news, people are starting to get concerned, you might have actually turned it around on us all. Might not even need that muzzle after all.”

Talk of his plans when he got back with his kids for his birthday ended as you cleaned up and were approached by the gentleman sent to fetch you. One more security cart ride and past a glass wrapped lobby you walked to be fed into a side entrance for the upper level of the air bus where you and other apparent exclusive passengers were assigned. “Welcome, Viscountess, Hawkeye. Thank you for flying with us today. And you are welcome to film as you choose.”

Clint was the one to say, “Already on it, bees are cameras,”

“Oh, charming,” one of the ladies exclaimed and shifted aside to allow one of the other stewardesses to show you both to your assigned seats.

A double seated bench was inside the enclosed room of a suite, across from a flat screen tv on the same wall as a small hallway you were shown through by your own personal female butler to the door where your private bath and bedroom with a remarkably small double bed and a smaller flat screen tv.

Shows of features to adjust the temperature, lights and where to charge things was given before you were shown a sparkling cider bottle the butler popped and poured into a champagne glass to go with Clint’s champagne he thanked her for. Pre-flight checks came before a buckle into your seats for take off, alone in the taxying of the aircraft you muttered to Clint, “This is going to be a long ridiculous 13 hours.” Making him chuckle.

“Least it’s a night flight,” he muttered back, “Go by faster with a nap.”

.

Meals were set, and in solitude you came up with a few items you would trade off the menu to suit your own needs, like his tea sandwiches for your caviar you didn’t want. Before he tucked into his meal he gestured at the plate asking, “Can you hear this?” Only making you giggle at the possible reasoning behind your dislike of caviar.

“It’s a texture issue, not that,” you replied with another giggle calming him to taking his first bite. Three more courses came with more glasses and drinks until you both had to try the private bathroom out and finish off the second film you had chosen. The third was put on in the bedroom where you took off your boots to stretch out along the wall on the giggle worthy small bed while he laid on the free spot.

Hours and two meals later and buckled back into your seats you stole a glance his way patting his arm having heard his heart rate kick up a bit at the prospect of being one step closer to home.

With a hand on your arm he followed you out of the plane then took the lead in the way to the exit gate where you said, “Bus to the train is that way.”

“Starshine!” you heard called out from beside a taxi to your left making you giggle and turn your head to find Wade Wilson in sweats, a Hawaiian shirt and ugg boots sans red and black armor. Arms over his head he said, “Mint is so your color!”

“Okay,” Clint muttered, “Now the pieces are falling together,” following you to the taxi where Wade gave you a hug and then tugged Clint into a hug too.

“Hawkeykins, I have been dying to see you in pastels. Literally,” he said planting his hands on Clint’s shoulders making him smirk, “It has been killing me, those eyes! How dare you hide them in dark grey and maroon. I know Widow has her color scheme but you need some pizzazz!”

His head ticked to the side opening the door to the back for you with a wide smile, “Hop in and I will give you all the deets on what a fiasco our jet is now. Oh my gosh,” you climbed in and Clint behind you chuckled as he closed the door dramatically and dropped into the open front seat facing you both, closing his door behind him, “Never trap yourself inside a metal tube with seven men on a high protein diet after seven bottles of tequila. We hit turbulence, someone lied about being a nervous flier, there was an explosion of unnatural proportions imaginable for a human digestive system, and then the pity gagging, long story short we had to power wash it and now it’s still airing out on our secret island.”

The driver took off for Stark Tower first and you said, “Just be sure to net it off or you might have a pelican problem.”

“Oh there’s not risk of that. Gregory chose to stay behind with the plane and guard it.” Making you giggle.

“You drugged him and left a note?” you asked in a teasing tone.

“He ran into a pole trying to escape the stench.” Making you giggle to Clint’s chuckle, “He looked so peaceful didn’t want to wake him up. Lucky’s gonna check on him tomorrow.” He smiled at you, “Can’t wait to hear about your flight. What did the goop monster pick for you?”

“Apparently we were in the Suite,” he let out an impressed whistle, “Personal room, came with a butler, attached bath, with a shower and a bedroom with what they called a double bed.”

“It was small,” Clint said. “I did get her caviar and champagne though. Not to mention the tote bag for the free stuff. I got new jammies and slippers.”

“Sounds like fun, having a butler, go and pretend you’re Batman for an evening.” Wade said, “Though no one can touch Alfrid.”

Clint said, “Felt like they tried to impress, maybe a bit too much, but for a free flight not too shabby.”

Wade asked you, “So what are your plans? Packing?”

“Finish that up then I will head down to finish off the end of the mast that should have printed while I was gone. Been raring to get it done finally so I can give it a shot to lower it and raise it again.”

 *.*.*

Guest notifications at Stark Tower were brushed away on the monitor of the system currently running the latest scans for where Clint could be held prisoner and by whom. Choice after choice were named of tips from various agents around the world of odd encounters and behaviors of seedy figures who could be behind it. The air in the room was palpable and loaded with voices in argument over the best route to take, spotting through glass walls the man himself, Rhodey fell silent and crossed the room to the chair Clint sat on the arm of to leave his gifts on the cushion.

Smirking at his friend who was looking over his new hairdo especially Clint called out, “Check Japan yet?”

“Japan,” Bruce scoffed as he’d already shot down two tips from there as Nat recognizing the voice turned.

“Clint,” she said turning everyone’s focus to the man Rhodey poked and took hold of the closest shoulder to him to test if he was a hologram or not.

“Where have you been?” Rhodey asked.

“What happened to your hair?” Bruce asked.

“I was in Japan,” he said noticing Fury from the far seat in the room stand to come closer. Not having been part of the discussion, but at the post of a picture from your social page with a picture of you and Clint eating at a ramen place to warn of a video of a spa treatment series of videos to be posted over the next couple weeks, he had come directly here after checking you were not home and hadn’t been for a couple days now. Went to a spa there, had a great time. Deadpool says the mint makes my eyes pop,” and he said to Rhodey, “Personally I think it looks better on Pluto.”

Rhodey was about to speak only for Stark to cut him off, “What spa?” Clint named it, and he pointed at Clint, “Out of this world, what treatments you get?” Clint brought out the sheet from his bag luring Tony closer to take hold of it. “Ooh, you like the hair treatment? Heard it went a bit heavy on the lavender when I sent an ex there.”

“Kid’s allergic so we went with citrus. Really nice. Got ramen before that and had a long day of pampering, she got me some gifts and then had two tickets for a compartment called the Suite on the flight home.” Tony clicked his tongue at the name. “Brother’s friend surprised her, bought them off of miles, personally I wouldn’t have minded the back of the plane but two helpings of caviar when she didn’t want hers and champagne. Hell of a way to ring in a birthday I will say.”

Fury said, “Speaking of birthday, lets get you on the jet and you can brief us fully. Get you back home.” Clint nodded and gave the rest of the team brief hugs and pats on the arm to give them proof he was solid as well just leaving Nat, Rhodey and Fury to go with him to the jet on the overlook landing platform. Once sealed inside Fury set off a surveillance blocker he pulled from his pocket as well as a pop up pocket sized holographic map of Japan. “First off, what do you remember of where you were taken to?”

And once he answered that Clint said, “I’m lying on the ground in a towel after my bath waiting to be given new clothes and given another dose of whatever it was controlling me and I hear a ‘pst’, I try to tell the guard off when I hear Pluto’s voice come out of this over six foot guard.” Fury’s brow arched up and he said, “She has a hologram program that just disguises you as someone else. Said some of Venom’s connections said I was taken by someone who gave off Asgardian vibes, she had a button sized thing she put by the barrier that made it flicker so she could toss me these clothes and shoes and I could hop out.”

Fury, “And you just walked out?”

“Ya, right out, the place was under a fish market. Passed through the next town hitched a ride to Tokyo where she bought me ramen and gave me some birthday gifts. Spa after, then we flew back.”

Nat asked, “You said Deadpool complimented your hair, he went with you?”

“No, but he did drop Pluto on the way to get me.”

Rhodey asked, “And when you say dropped?”

“She jumped out of the jet,” parting his and Fury’s lips. “Said it’s what friends do, mentioned I sat by her bedside after she was taken and took that as a sign I wanted to be friends.” Making Nat smirk, “Made a pretty cute joke that if I wanted the Avengers to get me she could take me back. It makes absolutely no sense and to be honest, it was wild till we got to the ramen place. Having her show up to get me, but I was fed, and pampered and she gave me some cool gifts, not to mention Deadpool gave me this unicorn hoodie my kids are gonna love.”

“How’d she find you?” Nat asked.

“She wasn’t really specific, I took it as she got the tip through Venom and his connections.” He smirked a bit wider and asked, “I don’t get to hear about your conversation you and Nat had while I was gone?”

Nat asked, “What does that mean?” to Fury’s shift a bit taller on his seat in Clint’s reach into his whale shark bag to bring out the travel paper packet that had Fury’s lips part.

“She said you and Nat would have an odd conversation while I was gone about these.”

Lowly Fury chuckled and said as he accepted the travel packet. “I’ll put these back in your file.”

“What conversation?” Nat asked Fury.

“Someone who looked like me strolled right through SHIELD HQ, until they got to the hall where I was, I remember seeing you,” he said pointing to Nat whose lips parted, “Irritated and saying Tony needed some film from Howard Stark.”

“The film, you mentioned, you weren’t asking about what Tony had, you thought I was sent for film.”

Fury looked to Clint, “End of the hall when I’m gone they’re me again, get into the record room where the woman there greeted me and let me down to the vaults, where this clearly was taken before I left.”

Rhodey looked at him, “How are you not hung upside down right now? Anyone sees you on the film-,”

Fury cut him off, “Neither of us showed up on the film.” Parting the trio’s lips. “Film shows people talking to us, but no us. If she did it, if she loaned the tech out,”

Fury sighed and Clint said, “This isn’t some espionage thing,” making brows pop up his way, “Kid wanted to get me out.”

Fury, “She could have taken anything from down there.”

“If she had why would she need to do it this time?” Clint asked parting his lips, “She would have already done it, been down there millions of times, cleared the place out. Check it all, and I bet you all that was taken were those papers.”

Rhodey asked, “Where exactly did she drop in? Maybe we can clear that up at least, tie that down.”

“Ocean drop,” Clint said making Nat’s brows lift.

“Whoa,” Nat butt in, “I love you and I would second guess an ocean drop.”

Rhodey bumped his arm into Fury’s, “The coast that went dark,”

Fury nodded, “Blacked it out, drop out, swim ashore. Fits Deadpool’s style.”

“Honestly she didn’t even mention him, he was the one who picked us up from the airport. Talked a bit about their jet and they had to air it out because someone got sick in it. I don’t get their history, how it crosses over, they didn’t say, but he seems to care about her in a protective way, so it’s got to be something significant.”

Nat asked, “She didn’t seem scared at all?”

“Not really, but she said when she panics people die. She did say if I got into a hard time I could say she took me hostage,” he joked making them chuckle with him.

Rhodey said, “She does know how hard the rules are on us right now, could have just seen a tip and saw a spa she wanted to go to and helped out the team in a way that beyond the papers wouldn’t be linked to us. We didn’t blast his face on the news for all they know he was just a bodyguard for her or it actually was a birthday surprise.”

“Well I guess we owe her one then,” Fury said making Clint smirk.

“I did say we’d pay her back for the spa treatments,” throatily Fury chuckled accepting the sheet of treatments he took a picture of to look up and get a check to pay you back.

“That we can do,” Fury answered.

Pt 41

-just a side note, if you’ve made it 40 chapters without commenting please comment or reblog. Hearts don’t help to build motivation or spread the group of people that see writers stories. On average my chapters are ten pages long, it’s kind of disheartening to see streams of hearts on my longfics and that there is absolutely nothing in any of those ten pages to mention at all. Fanfic is a community and not sharing the love in words on it just hitting the heart button leaves writers stagnant with few people to interact with and causes writers to leave. Please help keep the community alive and give feedback in more than just kudos or hearts. If you don’t like to make comments at least every ten hearts or so please reblog to share the story with others. You don’t have to have a big following to help share stories. Please help keep the community alive and happy reading guys. :) -

[use-your-telescope]

When Everything's Made to be Broken - Chapter 4: I'm Not Sure if Anybody Understands

Summary: The Avengers try to learn more about their newest team member.

Author's Notes: Reminder - this is a continuation of the same song from the last chapter. ❤️

If you enjoy, please reblog!! I'm a lil' blog (less than 100 followers, haha) and reblogs really help me out <3 Also, feel free to send me a message or comment if you want to be added to the tag list.

Next chapter should be coming November 5th.

Content Warnings: Some alcohol mentions. Angst if you squint?

Word Count: 6,762

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

Song: Some Nights - fun.

Well, some nights, I wish that this all would end 'Cause I could use some friends for a change And some nights, I'm scared you'll forget me again Some nights, I always win (I always win) But I still wake up, I still see your ghost Oh Lord, I'm still not sure what I stand for, oh What do I stand for? What do I stand for? Most nights, I don't know

“Hi, we’re Your Friendly Neighborhood Bar Band, and we’re here to play some music tonight.”

With the golden warmth of stage lights washing over her, Theo grinned at the cheers that came from Jack’s introduction and started plunking out the opening notes of their first song.

She started playing with the group shortly after accepting her position as an attending at New York Presbyterian, having been introduced by a colleague whose brother happened to be their drummer. That was a few years before; since then, the group had grown to add a couple other members and expanded their repertoire to cover almost anything and everything. For Theo, it was as much an opportunity to keep herself learning and practicing new instruments as anything else. Music was one of the few things in the world that brought her any sort of solace, as it was something her parents both placed a great value in, so any excuse to create music was welcome. 

Theo didn’t run the show - they all rotated out who fronted certain songs, and she was not needed to provide on-stage banter - but she did switch instruments most often, as she was the only one who had taken the initiative to learn all of the one-off instruments for the times when a song had a saxophone or a trumpet and it just didn’t sound right without that specific instrument. 

It was the last show she would play before news broke of the newest addition to the Avengers. Knowing full-well that meant she would need to step back from pre-planned appearances  or shows, she did her best to soak up each and every moment of the evening in hopes of tucking it away for a rainy day in the future. The stupid jokes that Jack told the crowd, Kelsie moving around so much that she inevitably crashed into Theo mid-song, the drunk guy in the audience who shouted at them to play Wonderwall, the scent of stale beer and sweat under half-lit fluorescents… 

Well, she soaked up everything except for the crowd of famous faces in the back. 

The Avengers lurked near the bar, each member’s posture stiff and uncomfortable as they watched the crowd drunkenly dancing and singing along to every word. For spies and assassins, they weren’t exactly great at blending in. If anything, they stuck out like a sore thumb.

She should have known they’d find their way there.

After pulling the stunt at the Avengers’ briefing, it was only a matter of time before they sought Theo out for some observation of their own. Catching the entire team off-guard was incredibly satisfying and certainly got under their skin… Which was exactly the point. If they thought she was predictable and stable, they’d trust her and want her to stay. And with the individual and collective egos in that room, she needed to knock them all down a peg or two. Pulling the rug out from under the entire team was an effective reminder that they weren’t as prepared as they thought they were.

And boy, did they need that reminder.

She’d seen the videos of their attempts at taking on shadow beasts, and if her initial suspicions were correct about the source of the pests, the Avengers certainly had no idea what they were in for… 

Screaming cheers from the audience snapped Theo out of her wandering thoughts. She pushed the irritation about presence from her mind; the Avengers already took up too much of her headspace. She didn’t need to let them ruin the night. 

No, she had a show to play and she’d be damned if she didn’t make the most of it.

She shook her head, bringing her attention back to Jack as he worked the crowd.

“Theo Amaris on the… well shit, she plays pretty much everything at one point or another. Piano, guitar, vocals, violin, cello, sax, trumpet— not only can she play pretty much every instrument and make it look easy, but she’s got two fucking Grammy nominations for it.”

At the announcement, Theo’s cheeks burned. 

The nominations weren’t for writing music - a friend of a friend was working at a recording studio and they needed someone to come in and help with recording a bunch of parts for a major recording musician. Theo was a broke med student in the middle of her residency at the time and well, the gig paid well. All she had to do was show up, play the instruments, sign an NDA, and she got more than her fair share of pay. Of course, now that the album was out and her name was in the song credits the NDA no longer applied, but at the time she wondered if the paycheck was more to keep quiet about it and less about recording the music.

The album ended up getting two grammy nominations - album of the year and country album of the year. 

“I didn’t write the songs, so I don’t know if it’s fair to say the nominations are mine… I was recruited to play a few instrumental parts, and I did it because I was a broke med student who needed money!” Theo interjected, earning a laugh and cheers from the crowd. “I didn’t even know who the recordings were for until a week before the album came out.”

“Theo what, like it’s hard? Amaris here, making us all look bad as she casually racks up Grammy nominations while in motherfucking med school. Actually, hey look, our next song is from that album!” Jack replied, earning a louder round of screams from the crowd. 

Anyone who had been to a show of theirs probably knew what was coming, since Jack liked to point it out every single time they played - but tonight, Theo found herself wishing he hadn’t revealed that detail… After all, she had a bunch of superheroes watching who would definitely ask questions about that endeavor, and she wasn’t overly excited about any unnecessary interaction.

“Yeah, yeah… okay, let’s get this over with.” Theo forced herself to laugh, but shook her head. “This is Everything has Changed.”

Of the songs she helped record, Everything has Changed was one of her favorites; she always thought her sister would have loved the song. It was light and sweet and romantic, and Rae was always a romantic at heart.  

God, what she’d give to see her sister again.

“All I knew this morning when I woke / is I know something now / know something now I didn’t before / and all I’ve seen since eighteen hours ago / is green eyes and freckles and your smile / in the back of my mind making me feel like / I just wanna know you better…” 

From the back of the crowd, a pair of green eyes caught hers, and she couldn’t help but smile.

If there was anyone she wanted to know better, it was the intrepid Asgardian sorcerer who had long shed the reputation of wanting to conquer Earth and replaced it with equal parts charm, mystery, and wit sharper than the daggers he fought with. The sole interaction she’d had with him only increased her curiosity: Loki was one of the few, if not the only Avenger who didn’t express reservations about her before they were aware she was in the briefing, and he seemed almost amused at the way she pulled the wool over the others’ eyes.

If the way he studied her, obscured in shadows from the back of the crowd, was any indication, maybe he wanted to know her better too.

So this is it? I sold my soul for this?  Washed my hands of that for this?  I miss my mom and dad for this? No, when I see stars, when I see –  When I see stars, that's all they are When I hear songs,  They sound like a swan - so come on…

Midgardian sports were utterly dull.

Loki would never interact with such activities if he had the choice. Midgardian sports were slow, overwhelmingly attended by drunken old men who could be outsmarted by a child, and required little skill to compete. The fact that the activity brought pleasure to anyone was confounding; what was even more confounding was that Theo willingly participated in such activities - as it turned out, she played the sport which Midgardians could not even agree on a name for: soccer, also known as football in locations which actually applied logic to the naming of their athletic endeavors.

Of course, the moment Maximoff discovered this morsel of information about the newest recruit, she insisted that the Avengers attend Theo’s next match and cheer her on.

…Which meant that when she and Thor badgered Loki into joining, Loki spent the entire journey to the event pondering ways he might slip away without anyone being the wiser. Yet, the blinding grin and exuberant babbling of his brother as they arrived at the match diminished Loki’s resolve. Clearly the older Odinson was thrilled that the younger brother ventured out to attend, and he did not have the heart to ruin that enthusiasm. Maximoff, meanwhile, was absolutely buzzing over the opportunity to hopefully bond with Theo, chattering constantly about how nice it was going to be to have another female around the tower and all the things they would do together.

Even with hats and sunglasses to obscure the more defining features of their appearances, having their visages plastered on televisions and across the internet meant it was nearly impossible to go anywhere without recognition. Sure enough, they barely found a place in the stands for the group to sit when the hushed comments and glances started. Less than thrilled about the eyes on him, Loki kept his attention fixed on the field and remained quiet in hopes of not drawing any additional attention.

In theory, the Midgardians had moved on from New York. Thor insisted on sharing what actually caused the invasion as a way to prove Loki was not a threat, even though it left Loki feeling rather embarrassed that his weakness was put on display. The Midgardians, it seemed, were more forgiving than Loki anticipated. He was not ridiculed for being so feeble-minded that someone could control him. Even so, he would be foolish to believe they had entirely forgotten about what took place or what Loki was capable of. Whether or not they would admit it, they likely still regarded him as a threat.

He tried to shake the thought by focusing on the scene in front of him.

Down on the field, the two teams were preparing for the match. Spotting the reason for their attendance was easy - between the silver braid swishing as she dove in front of a net and the different color uniform from everyone around her, she stood out like a sore thumb. Even with the padded jersey, shin guards, and protective gloves to add bulk, it was clear her height was disproportionate to her frame. 

“Starting goalie for Duke all four years, captain her senior year.” Romanoff leaned into the group as she shared the information. “Multiple offers to go pro, but she turned them down to go to med school.”

“Is Duke good?” Maximoff asked.

“Consistently one of the top ranked college women’s soccer programs.” Parker answered, “one of MJ’s friends was scouted to play there.”

“What’s the band on her arm?”

“Captain band,” Romanoff replied, “means she’s leading the group when on the field.”

As the team wrapped up a drill, one of the other players approached Theo. After listening to whatever the other player had to say, Theo glanced over at the stands. The moment she noticed the Avengers was obvious by the scowl and the dramatic eye-roll that crossed her face. 

“Brother,” Thor nudged Loki with his elbow, “I’ve never seen a Midgardian who could scowl quite like you, but it seems you may have competition.” 

Loki turned to find Thor smirking at him, to which he responded by arching an eyebrow at him.

Fortunately, Thor was unable to find any additional opportunities to drag Loki into the mix of conversation, as shortly thereafter the players were brought on the field and the match began.

Though the Avengers were attending a soccer match, Loki found himself less focused on the sport and more interested in using the event as a character study. 

If the team was an army, Theo was its commander. She constantly called out instructions and warnings, all the while strategizing and directing her team members as though they were her troops. This was a drastic departure from the almost chaotic, mischievous woman that crashed the team’s briefing. If this was what she was like when placed in a high-pressure situation, perhaps Fury was wise to seek out her involvement. 

It was fascinating to watch her work. Loki found himself ignoring the action at the opposite end of the field in favor of trying to detect what Theo saw that influenced her commands. She moved with laser-sharp precision to prevent any scoring opportunities, all the while continuing her command of the troops.

Perhaps there was more to this particular sport than Loki realized, as it wasn’t long before he found himself actually enjoying the spectacle. It certainly helped that the other team provided a formidable challenge, with neither team scoring during the match or in overtime. 

Somehow, that was not the end. Apparently, the final tie-breaker was a “penalty kick shootout.” While the teams prepared themselves for the challenge, Shuri explained the process to those who were unfamiliar (which included Loki, though he would not admit it).

Each team alternated attempts at scoring. Theo’s team scored on their first shot. The opposing team aimed for the lower left corner, but Theo was too fast - she dove to the ground with arms outstretched, catching the ball before it could enter the net. The second penalty kick from Theo’s team was also a success, this time directed to the opposite side of the net.

When the opposing team took their second shot, Loki studied Theo as she prepared to defend against the other team. She crouched low, hands up and ready to catch the ball at a moment’s notice. Her attention was not on the ball, but just beyond; when the other player approached the ball, she watched their body for clues about where they aimed. 

Top right corner was the target, but they overshot and the ball went out of bounds.

“So if Theo’s team scores and the other team misses one more time, Theo’s team wins.” Shuri whispered as if she had a particularly exciting and scandalous rumor to share, though nothing about what she divulged was private information and it was far from salacious.

The swish of the soccer ball hitting the back of the net confirmed a third goal for Theo’s team.

“No pressure on Theo,” Barnes remarked, “She’s about to decide the championship.”

Right - Maximoff had mentioned something about a league championship among the five hundred other remarks about the Silver Shadow, but Loki hadn’t really been listening.

According to Parker, it was an incredible kick. The ball curved as it flew through the air, heading for the top left corner of the net. The spiderling claimed it was a shot that most professional goalies wouldn’t have been able to stop. There was no way Theo could stop it.

A flash of neon purple careened towards the top left corner, getting enough air to punch the ball out of the way before diving to the ground. 

Not even a moment after she stopped the shot, raucous cheering erupted from the stands. Maximoff and Shuri squealed, jumping up and down. Parker, Barnes, Belova, Wilson, and Thor openly wore their surprise on their faces, arms spread wide as they whooped and hollered. Romanoff and Rogers were not as open in their surprise, but they still leapt to their feet with excitement; then again, even Loki was on his feet cheering. 

Pushing herself up to her knees, Theo whipped around, confusion rampant across her face as she checked whether the ball made it into the net. When no ball was found, she turned back to the field, eyes wide and mouth hanging open as she located the ball’s final resting place - about a quarter of the way down the field, next to the sideline.

Theo sprung to her feet, joining in on the celebration as she realized that she had, in fact, stopped the shot. Her teammates surrounded her, everyone cheering as they jumped on top of each other and embraced. 

Once the adrenaline of the match wore off, Loki grew anxious to return to the tower. The others, however, insisted on staying long enough to congratulate Theo, as they felt it would help her feel more welcome. 

Theo, however, seemed perfectly content to avoid the Avengers. Not far from where they sat was another group who she must have recognized, because she ran over to them and greeted them with hugs, conversing with them for far too long to be considered idle chatter. Most of her posse seemed to be close to her age, though one small child and one petite, elderly woman were among the group. It was the elderly woman who pointed towards the Avengers and made some remark; they were just far enough away that Loki did not hear what she said, though the smirk that accompanied it set him on edge.

When the others departed and no one else served to distract her, Theo finally approached the Avengers. The excitement from speaking to the other group had been replaced with open apprehension as she drew near, perhaps feeling as uncertain about the interaction as Loki felt about the Avengers’ presence.

“Um… hey,” Theo chewed the inside of her cheek as she offered a half-wave to the group.

“Hey Theo - Congratulations!” Maximoff beamed, “You were great out there!” 

“Thanks. I didn’t realize you were coming to the game…” Theo’s gaze flitted around the group. “You know I start on Monday, right?“

“Yeah, but we thought it would be nice to come cheer you on,” Romanoff said, “Though your reaction when you first spotted us was something else…”

“My what?” Theo furrowed her brow, glancing around the group.

“The eye roll and scowl that rivaled Loki’s…” Thor said, arching an eyebrow at Theo, who appeared utterly baffled, only for realization to dawn on her face moments later. 

“Oh - shit, that wasn’t you,” Theo let out a quick, nervous laugh, shaking her head. “Allie, one of my teammates - her ex-boyfriend was here and she saw him. He’s been trying to get back together with her, but she can do way better. That had nothing to do with you.”

When she was met with a collective look of suspicion, she laughed a second time, a lilting sound that floated through the air. “You really think I’m going to lie with the God of Lies right here?”

Though he hid it well, the moniker made Loki cringe; it was one of many that reminded the world of his past, insidious and ever-looming over him like a storm cloud. 

Everyone stared at Loki, waiting for his assessment.

“I do not believe she is lying,” he concluded, “though I must agree that it was quite a dramatic response. I almost wish to meet whoever the expression was directed towards, as they must have truly annoyed you to garner such a reaction.”

At that, Theo snorted. “No, no you don’t want to meet him. He’s a waste of space.” She paused, shifting the duffel bag she carried around to her opposite side. “Well… thanks for coming. I’ll see you Monday? Unless you just randomly show up at something else… But I’m pretty sure I don’t have anything else you can crash, unless you showed up at my job… Which I wouldn’t recommend, because that usually involves someone getting hurt.”

“We are pretty good at that,” Wilson replied, winking at her. “But we’ll hold off for now.”

She laughed, bidding them good night before disappearing into the dark.

For someone who had no desire to become an Avenger, she seemed rather amiable. Perhaps that was her nature, or maybe there was something else at play.

The question of what that might be plagued Loki the entire way home.

Well, that is it, guys, that is all  Five minutes in, and I'm bored again Ten years of this, I'm not sure  If anybody understands This one is not for the folks at home, Sorry to leave, Mom, I had to go Who the fuck wants to die alone  All dried up in the desert sun?

The night of the newest Avenger’s introduction to the public, the whole team assembled for Stark’s party. 

At this point, it was practically a routine. New members would be announced, the whole team would woo the press so they would get ideal coverage, and then they’d settle into training the new members and sending them out on missions.

These parties were nothing difficult. Centuries of being a prince on Asgard equipped Loki with the decorum and etiquette to charm his way through formal social gatherings. Unlike Thor, who won his acclaim through battle, Loki did not have the helm of a warrior to win him praise; instead, he earned recognition through skilled diplomacy and knowing how to work a room. It was nowhere near his favorite way to spend an evening, but there were worse ways to pass the time.

Besides, his ability to navigate these events was a significant reason his reputation had improved among the Midgardians. After saying the right things and charming the right people, New York seemed to be a distant memory for them. In some ways, Loki envied their ability to forget the incident so easily. 

The circumstances around the event still haunted him, though he’d never outright admit it. 

Nevertheless, once he made his rounds and played the part of charming Asgardian Prince for the press, Loki preferred to situate himself near the bar. It offered an easy view of the room, provided easy access to beverages, and kept him far enough from the dancing that when Maximoff and Barnes inevitably had too much to drink and wanted him to join them on the dance floor, he could easily evade them. Midgardian liquor didn’t do much to intoxicate Loki, but he found that he did have a taste for cocktails he could sip throughout the evening. The other bonus of having a beverage in hand was that it made him appear more approachable. 

Given his history, anything that made him look less threatening was a benefit.

Theo was easy to spot, silver hair tumbling down her back in loose curls. She wore a black jumpsuit with no back and a long keyhole across the front that highlighted her chest. It was a smart choice - she knew she would be on display and dressed to kill. The jumpsuit balanced power with just enough skin to provide sex appeal, yet provided enough coverage that no one would clutch their pearls at the sight of her. 

From his preferred spot near the bar, Loki observed Theo’s interactions with the important guests of the party. She stuck close to Stark’s side, smiling and nodding as they went from guest to guest. She carried herself with grace; shoulders back and chest out as though she were a dancer, gracefully flowing from group to group throughout the evening. However, it seemed as if she hardly spoke a word. Stark looked perfectly at home with a beautiful woman on each side - opposite Theo, Potts seemed like a natural as she caught up with party guests, laughing and chatting without reservation.

Occasionally, Theo would scan the room and lock eyes with Loki - when they did, Loki would smirk and raise an eyebrow at her, while Theo would widen her eyes in what appeared to be a silent plea for saving her from the small talk. 

“So, what do you think of the new girl?”

Loki turned to find Romanoff next to him, leaning up against the bar as she stole a sip from his drink. 

“That was mine.” Loki commented, ignoring her initial statement. A perfect red lipstick print now adorned his glass.

The Black Widow pursed her lips for a moment, glancing up as she seemed to swirl the beverage in her mouth. “An old fashioned - did you order it because you’re old?” Belova teased, appearing next to the Black Widow, who pushed his drink back to him. 

Loki rolled his eyes, though a begrudging smile flickered across his lips.

“What do you think of her?” Romanoff’s gaze returned to the party, taking in the scene. Potts had stepped away, leaving Stark and Theo to continue their tour of guests. 

“She seems… tolerable.” Loki remarked with a small shrug.

“High praise from you,” Romanoff said, still watching the Silver Shadow. 

“I heard she’s already giving Stark a hard time.” Belova leaned in, smirking as she glanced between her peers.

“Stark would certainly benefit from developing a bit of humility,” Loki mused, avoiding the lipstick mark as he took a drink.

Romanoff snickered, while Belova let out a snort of laughter.

“She made you laugh.” Romanoff casually mentioned, studying Loki for a reaction.

Loki simply cocked an eyebrow at her, waiting for her to state whatever her point was.

“She made you laugh, you say she’s tolerable, and you’re over here watching her instead of making your usual rounds. I’d say you’re interested in her,” Romanoff concluded with a smirk.

“Are you not curious about her?” Loki inquired.

“Oh, I’m curious - ” Romanoff snickered, “I’m curious about how someone managed to attract your attention so quickly. Normally you take a while to warm up to people.”

“You’ve not spoken to her yet?” It was a surprising piece of information: Romanoff normally made a point to meet new team members right away.

“No, I haven’t had a chance to.” Romanoff shrugged. “But based on your response to her, I’m clearing time on my calendar and making a point to talk to her.”

“I would have guessed based on her attire that you helped her select her outfit.” Loki contemplated. “It looks very… Romanoff-esque.”

“No - I asked Wanda and she didn’t help either. That was all the new girl. Which reminds me, I want to ask her where she got that jumpsuit. It’s cute.”  Romanoff commented, tapping her chin.

Stark stepped away as Theo engaged in a conversation with a pair of journalists. Despite her polite smiles and nods, it only took a moment for her eyes to start roving the crowd as she chatted, subtly searching around for an out. 

“You gonna go rescue Rapunzel?” Belova teased, noticing the way Theo’s eyes landed on Loki. 

“I thought the Widows were desperate for an opportunity to talk to her.” Loki said, turning around to flag the bartender for a refill.

“Nah, go rescue the princess. After all, you’re a prince.” Romanoff pushed off from the bar, standing up. “If you bring her a drink, I’m sure she’d love it.”

“You say that like I’ve never spoken to a woman before.”

“You’ve picked up plenty of women, and men,” Romanoff clarified, “but given you’ll actually need to talk to her and not just seduce her, I figured you could use a tip or two.” She winked, sauntering into the crowd with sister in tow before Loki could reply.

Damn those women.

As the bartender approached, Loki hesitated - what would she even want to drink? Normally he’d consider wine or champagne, but she didn’t seem like she’d want any of the standard options. 

They had similar styles and personalities; perhaps it was a safe choice to order the same drink as he enjoyed for the evening. 

With the extra beverage in hand, he made his way across the room to Theo.

“… I’m very grateful for the opportunity and the kindness the team has already shown me-” Theo politely answered one of the journalists as Loki arrived. “- Oh! Hey Loki.” She perked up, offering him a warm smile and a slight nod, which he returned. 

Loki turned to the journalists and greeted them, flashing his most charming smile and honeyed pleasantries. They blushed, having warmed up to him over the course of his tenure as an Avenger. As much as he didn’t enjoy the show, he was a stunning performer.

Returning his attention to the newest Avenger, he offered the second beverage to Theo. “With all the speaking you’ve had to engage in this evening, I thought you might appreciate something to drink.”

A grateful smile crossed her face as she accepted the drink. She gave it a sniff and a sip, her smile expanding to a grin as she realized what was in the glass. “Old-Fashioned?”

Loki nodded, impressed that she knew what it was. “Given we seem to have similar taste in apparel, I thought we might also have a similar taste in beverages.”

Theo chuckled, taking another sip. “You’re not wrong.”

Confusion regarding the comment was obvious, based on the narrowed eyes and arched brows that both journalists wore. They glanced between the two Avengers, as if waiting for elaboration.

“When I first met Loki, we unintentionally wore matching outfits,” Theo quickly explained, “right down to the identical shoes.”

“Well, it seems you managed to figure out your outfits so you wouldn’t have the same issue tonight!” One of the journalists replied, eliciting a small, forced smile from Theo. While Loki didn’t find the comment amusing, he also forced a smile to play along.

“Theo, there is someone I would like you to meet.” Loki spoke up, sending a quick wink to the newest Avenger. Turning back to the journalists, he flashed his most dazzling smile. “Would it be alright if I borrowed the guest of honor for a little while? I promise to return her.”

“Of course!” The journalists grinned, falling for the silver tongue’s charm. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Amaris. We look forward to seeing what you accomplish!”

“Thank you, pleasure to meet you as well.” Theo bowed her head with another small smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes. The forced smile could have been deemed her trademark expression of the evening. Perhaps she was not keen to be trapped in a room full of strangers.

Loki took her free hand and began to weave through the crowd. Glancing to the side, he slipped through a doorway and down a hall before ducking through another door to a private balcony, pulling Theo behind him the entire time. 

When they arrived, Theo glanced around at the empty balcony and back at Loki, raising an eyebrow in silent question.

“You appeared as though you wanted a reprieve from idle chatter,” Loki explained, dropping her hand. “This is where I escape to when I’ve had more than my fill of Stark’s parties.”

“Ooh, a secret hiding spot!” A grin curled over Theo’s lips, and for the first time all night he saw her eyes light up. “Thanks for the out - this shit was exactly the opposite of how I want to spend my time.”

“Would it surprise you to learn that most of us would rather spend our time anywhere but these insipid gatherings?” Loki said, turning to look out across the city. “I suspect Stark and my oaf of a brother are the only two who truly enjoy these… Events.”

“So why do you do it, then?” The question was asked earnestly, if her expression was anything to go by. “Can’t you just say no?”

“I suppose it would depend…” Loki paused to sip his beverage. “I have sat out my fair share of these gatherings, though they have also been… Beneficial… For my reputation. Generally speaking, I attend these functions so I minimize the incessant blundering and badgering Thor inevitably would subject me to should I refuse.”

“Didn’t peg you as someone who could be bossed around by your brother.” 

There was a hint of teasing in Theo’s comment, but Loki still bristled at her words. “My brother hardly bosses me around, mortal. I simply understand that tolerating these functions serves me well, even if they are not the manner in which I care to pass time.”

Theo snickered, but let the subject fall to the side in favor of amiable silence.

“I’ve been curious to ask - how was it that you came into your magic?”

Crossing her arms, Theo leaned against the balcony rail. “It’s a long story.”

“We’ve all the time in the world.” Loki mirrored her posture, catching her eyes with a sly smile. “I am certainly curious.”

“It involves another realm and a case of mistaken identity.” Theo answered, perhaps a bit too quickly. “You can use your imagination.”

“What realm?” Loki pressed, finding himself rather amused by the way Theo seemed to dodge each of his questions. “It is difficult to imagine unless I have a sense of where it takes place.”

A sigh and rolled eyes were Theo’s initial response. “On a scale from one to ten of topics I’d like to discuss, I’d rather deepthroat a chainsaw than talk about where I came from.” The sarcasm in her comment was amusing, yet it was obvious the subject was uncomfortable.

Loki, sensing that it wouldn’t be a good idea to push the topic, turned to look out across the skyline. “So… not a pleasant location. Duly noted.”

“It’s a story for another time.” Theo flashed a surprisingly haunted, yet grateful smile. She turned back to gaze at the city, keeping her eyes on the skyline in the distance as she continued. “So, Loki, prince of Asgard, god of mischief and trickery… Give me the scoop. Is Sleipnir real?”

Loki nearly fell over laughing from the surprise change of subjects. Of all the questions he’d been asked, Sleipnir was typically a subject most were too afraid to ask of, much less within an initial conversation.

She certainly seemed fearless.

When he finally regained his composure, he turned to find Theo beaming with a quiet pride. 

“Hardly - It was a tale spread for a bet that perhaps was too tantalizing for Midgardians, as they’ve clearly not forgotten it.” A grin curled across his lips, letting a chuckle escape. “However, there are other tales. As a child, I knew just enough to be dangerous…” Loki started, launching into a series of tales from his youth of the tricks he pulled on his brother and the trouble he caused. A sparkle came to his eye as he began to weave imagery of a tiny, doe-eyed and raven-haired Loki causing all kinds of chaos in Asgard. 

He only paused when the pair both laughed so hard that they had to stop and gather themselves, both wiping tears from their eyes.

My heart is breaking for my sister And the con that she called "love" But then I look into my nephew's eyes Man, you wouldn't believe The most amazing things That can come from Some terrible nights

Letting someone else talk was a desperately needed reprieve.

It wasn’t that Theo was out of her element; on the contrary, she was more than comfortable with rubbing elbows with the high and mighty. She’d done this hundreds, no, thousands of times before. Granted, it was a long time ago and in an entirely different place, when everything she understood about the world was almost opposite to how it stood now; regardless, she wasn’t out of practice.

Still, she hadn’t anticipated that her first day as a member of the Avengers would play out quite the way it did. Tony Stark’s ego wasn’t a surprise - he had a head so big it could be seen from another solar system. He was, at least, nice enough to take her around and introduce her to people instead of throwing her straight to the wolves. A Norse god with the personality of a golden retriever talking her ear off as he gave her a tour of the building she’d be living and working in? That was a bit of a surprise. She thought Thor would be more hot-headed and less… cheerful. The eyes of the other Avengers constantly watching her was to be expected - after all, she knew the reputation that preceded her. 

But now, she stood on the balcony of a skyscraper taking in the New York skyline. A different Norse god stood next to her, spinning tales that would sound stranger than fiction if it weren’t for what she’d already seen and what she’d already lived through. 

Loki was harder to read. In the briefing, he seemed amused by Theo. When he was among the group who crashed her show, he regarded her with a certain sharpness that seemed wary, yet intrigued. At her soccer game it seemed like he regarded her with skepticism, not to mention that he looked less than thrilled to be there. 

When Thor barged into the room where Loki was reading on Theo’s tour, she thought Loki was going to stab him until he realized she was present… Perhaps he wasn’t always as charming and witty as she expected. Theo struggled to believe that Loki, the prickly, aloof god, was actually related to Thor, the literal sunshine puppy god, much less that they were brothers. 

Then again, maybe Loki wasn’t so angsty after all. After all, the god of brooding was next to her, a twinkle in his eyes and a grin dangling from his lips as he regaled her with tales of mischief and tomfoolery. Even if some of the tales seemed a bit far-fetched to her, the laughter they coaxed from her was something almost unfamiliar; it had been years since she laughed that hard.

“You know, I have to confess: Thor may be onto something.” Theo had barely gotten her laughter under control before she spoke up.

“Is that so?” Loki’s face sobered as he studied her, waiting for what she would say next.

Theo glanced over at Loki, giving him a nod. “Thor wouldn’t stop extolling your virtues throughout my whole tour. He insisted I get to know you. Any idea why?”

Loki snorted, imagining the thought of Thor harassing their newest team member. “You exaggerate, I’m sure. Still, he can be… overzealous at times.”

“He seemed to think we’d be great friends.” 

Loki’s skepticism was on full display as he studied her, trying to see if she was lying.

“Well, you’re out here with me after rescuing me from small-talk hell, you brought me one of my favorite drinks based on a gut instinct, clearly we have a similar style, and we both wield magic…” Theo pointed out, holding up her drink as if to make a point. “So maybe it’s not as overzealous as you think.” 

“Touché,” Loki agreed, though it was strangely reluctant. “I… used to ruffle people’s feathers.” His voice got quieter and lost some of its bravado. “Thor worried I would never find friends due to past transgressions, or grow accustomed to life on Midgard. While that may no longer be the case, I suspect he still worries; it is likely why he still drags me out with him.” 

Of the answers Theo was expecting, that… wasn’t it. Maybe some clever quip about Thor wanting to set his brother up with someone so he’d stop giving Thor shit about dating a mortal, or something funny. This seemed… almost a little too personal.

Time for a change in subject.

“Tell me another story - What was the best prank you’ve played on Tony Stark?”

That was all it took for Loki to perk up and launch into another elaborate story that led to side-splitting laughter.

Perhaps the golden retriever god was onto something - maybe they would be good friends.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

The other night, you wouldn't believe The dream I just had about you and me I'd called you up, but we both agreed It's for the best you didn't listen It's for the best we keep our distance, oh For the best, you didn't listen It's for the best we keep our distance, oh

[indelen]

Borrowed Time - Chapter 24

FROM THE START

Chapter 24 - Too Many Questions

Excerpt:

        “This is the only delivery my contact will be able to make for some time,” he warned, his voice suddenly as tired as the rest of him.

        Eir nodded as if she knew exactly why. Then again she was there when Vanlandi spoke of Amora’s ransacked jail cell and she was not a fool so maybe she did. 

“I have other contacts,” continued Loki, “but none as reliable as this one was. Do stress to your aides the importance of reading twice before doing once. I can’t promise a fast turn around on supplies from now on”

“Understandable. How is your back?”

“In pain. How is Jarl’s potion?”

“Simmering”

“Who among us isn’t?” shrugged Loki and added, “I have one question for you, not strictly a medical one.”

[maddiehu7]

Dangerously in love | loki laufeyson |

Chapter 3

I go to help my dad up

"And now theres that guy" he says rising up

"What do you know about Thor violet" romanoff says looking back at me

"Um...um he's a Norse god and...he's the god of thunder control lighting he's pretty dangerous and strong" I say looking nervously at my dad and Steve

"Oh thats great, is he friendly at least?" Steve asks before I can respond my dad speaks

"Doesn't matter if he frees loki or kills him, the tesseracts lost" my dad says with finality turning to fly out of the ship

"Stark we need a plan of attack!" Steve shouts at him

"I have a plan. Attack" my dad says flying out

Steve sighs going to jump out after him but I grab his arm

"Take me" I say hoping he'll agree

"Are you crazy your dad will kill me" he says like looking at me incredulously

"Please Steve, plus I could be of use I know the most about loki and Thor maybe I could help" I say pleadingly Steve thinks for a minute sighing knowing I'm right

"Fine but please for the love of god stay out of the way and try to not let your dad or loki see you" he says

"Thank you!" I say smiling he rolls his eyes grabbing onto me tightly jumping out of the plane

When we get to the ground Steve drops me off onto of a rock and goes down to the fight I can see perfectly from where I am

"Now, I don't know what you plan to do here" Steve says but Thor interrupts

"I've come to put an end to loki schemes" Thor shouts angrily

"Then prove it, put that hammer down" Steve says cautiously and my dad just has to open his mouth

"Yeah...no bad idea he loves his hammer" my dad says Thor swinging his hammer and slamming my dad with it I want to feel bad but he just dosent know when to stop sometimes but I guess I'm a hypocrite because I begged captain America to come down here which some would argue is the wrong thing as I'm thinking all hell breaks lose and they start fighting again in so focused on the fight I don't even hear the footsteps behind me

"Ah Tony starks daughter what a pleasure" I turn around startled only to see the god of mischief himself standing over me I stand up slowly backing up

"Loki" I say sighing out breathlessly from fear

"The one and only" he says smiling put his hands up showing himself off

"What do you want" I say looking suspiciously at him

"And why dear would you presume I want something from a mortal such as yourself" he says cocking his head up curiously looking me up and down

"Well why else would you sneak up on me like a creep" I say crossing my arms cocking my brow

"So brave" he says laughing looking at me with something sinister in his eyes I back up uncomfortable but he starts walking towards me I keep backing up but I feel my back hit stone and suddenly I'm trapped between a rock and a hard place literally

"You seem like a fun thing to play with" he say smiling wickedly reaching his hands up to touch my face but I look away dodging his hand

"And feisty, I like"

"Leave me alone loki" i say looking back at him trying to look tuff

"Fine" he backs away putting his hands up smirking I look at him confused that he did what I told him suddenly missing his presence but that's crazy, right? But all of a sudden a bright flash flashes from below I go to look down brushing by loki which makes him smile and me shiver, I look down and see everyone on the floor getting up

"Are we done here?" cap says out of breath they all look up at loki and me

"Shit" I say looking my dad in the eye my dad flys up as soon as he sees me putting himself between me and loki

"What the hell are you doing here and with him no less!" My dad shouts his mask disappearing from his face god I don't think I've ever seen him this pissed

"Um...nothing...just watching" I say shrugging trying to diffuse the situation

"I swear your gonna give me a heart attack one day, and you...you" my dad says walking towards loki angrily loki just smiling

"Dad stop please he didn't do anything" I say running in between him and loki holding my dad back he looks down at me like I'm stupid

"Didn't do anything?" He says

"Well...to me he didn't do anything to me" I say looking back at loki who's smirking down at me with surprise on his face that I'm defending him

"I can't believe your defending him kid" my dad says looking slightly disappointed

"Did you not hear me? I'm not defending him I'm saying to just stop fighting, god!" I say running my hands through my hair annoyed

"Sorry" my dad mutters

"But I'm still pissed at you, now let's get reindeer games back to the ship" he says clasping handcuffs on loki he looks down admiring the them

"Hammer come fly your brother back to the ship I'll take vi and ice cube" my dad shouts down to Thor which makes him swing his hammer up flying up to our level taking Loki and flying up to the ship, my dad takes me and Steve and flys us up to the ship to

Once we get up to the ship we all go to the center of the ship to watch Loki in his cage furry talking to him

"In case it's unclear, if your try to escape if you so much as scratch that glass" furry says pressing a button the bottom of lokis cage opening up he goes down to look over the edge of his cage

"It's 30,000 feet straight down in a steel trap, you get how that works?" He asks loki pressing the button to close the trap loki chuckles

"It's an impressive cage, not built I think for me" he says easing his hands towards the cage

"Built for something a lot stronger than you" furry confirms

Oh, I've heard a mindless beast makes play he's still a man" loki says looking at the camera walking towards it I look over at Bruce sorrily he just smiles smally at me

"How desperate are you, that you call on such lost creatures to defend you?" Loki ask furry smirking

"How desperate am I? You threaten my world with war, you steal a force you can't hope to control, you talk about peace and you kill because it's fun you have made me very desperate you might not be glad that you did" furry finishes strongly

"Ooh...it burns you to have come so close...to have the tesseract, to have power, unlimited power and for what? A warm light for all mankind to share and then to be reminded what real power is" loki says speaking to furry like he's nothing

"We'll let me know if "real power" wants a magazine or something" furry smiles fakely walking away loki just continues to stare at the camera

"He really dose grow on you doesn't he?" Bruce says sarcastically

"Lokis gonna drag this out so Thor, what's the play?" Cap asks

"He has an army called the chitauri there not Asgard nor any world known he means to lead them against your people they will win him the earth in return I suspect for the tesseract" Thor says turning towards us

"An army..from outer space...well that's just peachy" I say throwing my hands up

"Who are you?" Thor questions looking at me

"Oh sorry I'm Tony starks daughter the one in the red machine" I say putting my hand out smiling

"Oh yes...the annoying one no offense" he says shaking my hand

"None taken" I laugh he smiles at me

"Anyway so he's building another portal tahts what he needs Erik selvig for" Bruce says

"Selvig" Thor says confused

"He's an astrophysicist" Bruce continues

"He's a friend" Thor says looking solemn

"Loki has him under some kind of spell, along with one of ours" nat says looking uncomfortable, I've had enough of this conversation and sneak out thinking of what to do....see loki? That's a bad idea right

"Loki laufeyson" I say walking up the stairs to lokis cage He turns around looking confused that I'm here but then putting his shields in place smirking

"Little stark tell me what do I owe the pleasure" he says walking towards me

(To be continued )

[bloodiedrogue]

ME AND THE DEVIL

(PREV CHAPTER)

SUMMARY: After arriving at the safehouse, Avis quickly finds herself face-to-face with an old friend.

PAIRING: Loki Laufeyson & Original Female Character

WORD COUNT: 3,866

WARNINGS: Canon typical violence, slight torture.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm not gonna lie I just busted this chapter out in a few hours and I'm actually pretty stoked on it so let me know what you think? Maybe? I don't know :') also special shout out to @use-your-telescope for help revising the offer letter. Thanks again!!

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST

-

Knock. Pause. Knock, knock —click. 

The door to the safe house creaks open, screaming to life as it moves through the air to reveal a dimly lit room. In it, there’s a small kitchenette in the far left corner with fairly decent-looking appliances. A fridge, a stove, a sink that isn’t covered in blood. In comparison to some of the other places Avis has stayed in, it looks like a domestic haven, with its full table dining set and plush couch. It makes her sigh with contentment as she steps further in, examining the stove with greater detail, noticing it’s gas rather than electric. 

Just like home.

“Took you long enough, Ghosty.” 

Immediately, her eyes dart to the right and narrow, focusing on the voice that breaks through the darkness. Somehow it sounds familiar —deep and scratchy and overly sarcastic in a way that both makes her blood boil and her heart melt. A voice she hasn’t heard in ages.

“Lane?”

“In the flesh.” 

Out of habit, she reaches for her gun, placing a heavy hand on the grip, watching as Isaac Lane steps out to greet her. Across his face, he’s got a big shit-eating grin. The kind he used to give her whenever she’d lose one of their never-ending arguments. That one where the edges of his lips are turned to the sky, revealing that one crooked canine on the left side, causing Avis to let out a nervous breath, realizing that it’s him. And that he’s here, standing in front of her, holding his hands out into the open air to signal he’s unarmed. 

“Miss me?”

With his hands still raised, he takes another step closer, making her twitch. “Course not.”

“Bit rude to admit, but I’ll take it considering the obvious.”

“The obvious?”

“You’re reaching for your gun, are you not?”

Suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed, Avis releases the weapon but keeps her hand behind her. “Sorry if seeing you here doesn’t make me feel very fucking safe.”

“I didn’t realize my presence would make you so uncomfortable.”

There’s a hint of… something in his words. Smugness? Flirtation? Either way, instead of condoning it Avis instantly shuts it down with an eye-roll as she brushes past him and sets her things on the kitchen table. “Why are you here, anyway? What happened to Mags?”

“Mags?”

“My contact.” Angrily, she speaks through her teeth, a wave of stress rushing through as she tries to imagine the events that led to Lane’s appearance. Did Mags reach out to them or was it the other way around? And if it was, is she safe? Dead? Merely incarcerated? 

Avis isn’t sure. All she knows is that something wrong had happened, otherwise, Mags (the handler she’d been working with over the last three months) would’ve been here instead, sitting at the table with her usual cup of coffee and folder filled with information on her next target.

“Oh, uh, right, she’s gone.” 

“Gone? What do you mean?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Lane strolls towards Avis’s stuff, moving his hands to examine their exteriors before unzipping the largest duffle. Inside, all of Abner’s body sits, carefully tied in black plastic bags for safekeeping. “I assume this is—“

Before Lane can even finish his sentence Avis has her gun to his head. Angrily, it’s pressed against his temple, the cold steel of the barrel contrasting the sudden heat of his face as his eyes turn to face her. 

“Still quick on the draw, I see,” he laughs.

“What do you want, Isaac?”

Quietly, he clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes. “Oh, first name basis, am I in trouble?”

“You will be if you don’t fucking tell me what’s going on.”

She wants to shoot him right then and there —pull the trigger so she can move on with her plan but knowing Lane it won’t be that easy. He’s always been a bit of a snake. Doing whatever it takes to survive. On more than one occasion he’d thrown her under the bus for simple things like incomplete field reports or disorganized meeting notes —the usual office stuff. It was annoying, sure, but considering what she knew he was capable of she merely took the brunt of it with open arms, well aware that in the long run, it was easier. Safer. 

“I’ll tell you when you drop the gun.”

“And I’ll drop the gun when you go over there.” Motioning to the other side of the room with her free hand, Lane merely nods in response, raising his hands ever so slowly. After, he pushes the chair out from underneath him and stands, taking his time as he wanders over to her desired spot on the couch. 

“Okay, are we good now or do you want me to take off my clothes to show I’m not armed?”

“Good to know you’re still a disgusting pervert.” 

“Only for you, my dear.” 

Ignoring the wink Lane gives her as he speaks, Avis drops her gun onto the table, leaving it near and loaded as she sits in his previous spot. “You really are shameless, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?” 

She has to force herself not to roll her eyes at his nonchalance. “Nothing, just… tell me what’s going on. Please.” 

She doesn’t mean to sound so desperate, yet it just sort of comes out, falling from her lips like water from a broken dam. It’s inevitable. The sudden misery that takes over when she hears him laugh in response.

“I’m here to offer you a deal.” 

“With who?”

“SHIELD, obviously,” he snaps.

Jokingly, she raises her hands in defence. “Sorry, just figured given your lack of moral compass that you might’ve switched things up since we last spoke.”

“Fair enough,” he admits. “But no, I’m still under Fury, as will you be, eventually.” 

Avis can’t help but scoff at his confidence. “I highly doubt you have anything worthy to offer me.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Would I?”

He nods, then moves his hand towards the other end of the couch, producing a file folder from a bag she hadn’t noticed before. “All the details of the deal are here.” Carefully, he then stands and takes a few steps towards her before tossing it onto the table and retreating back. “To sum things up though, SHIELD’s essentially offering you your job back.”

“My job?” Avis almost laughs at the idea as she opens the folder.

“Yes. With conditions.”

-

Dear Avis Finch, 

We are pleased to offer you employment as Test Agent at Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division (S.H.I.E.L.D.). We trust that your skills will be a valuable asset to our company. 

This is a full-time, exempt position with an annual gross salary of $90,000, paid in bi-weekly instalments. In addition, this position is eligible for the following benefits, in accordance with company policy:

14 days of annual paid time off

10 days of sick leave

Medical and dental insurance

401k/retirement plan

Performance Bonus of up to 10% of your annual gross salary 

On-site childcare 

On-site housing

24/7 security protection

To accept this offer, please sign and date this letter as indicated below and return to Isaac Lane by December 12, 2016. Your first day of employment will be effective immediately.

We look forward to welcoming you to our team.

Sincerely,

S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters

-

Avis stares at the paper for what feels like hours, reading and rereading every detail until her vision is blurry and her mind is full of thoughts that don’t make sense. “Obviously the salary could be a bit higher,” she eventually hears Lane say, his usual dry sense of humour breaking through the silence, causing her to look up and narrow her eyes, wondering how this could’ve happened. How SHIELD, of all companies, would decide to take her back? 

“Is this a fucking joke?” 

Lane, ever the charmer, snorts and shakes his head. “Surprisingly no. I mean, considering the circumstances I figured Fury had lost has mind but I guess, like always SHIELD has room for more traitors.” 

As much as she wants to deny such a statement she knows doing so is useless. In Lane’s eyes, she’s nothing but a traitor. Just another run-of-the-mill rogue agent hell-bent on defying the law of a master no one truly trusts. 

A part of her wonders if he acts like this out of jealousy. Perhaps he too once wished to do what she had done and as a result, lashes out. Psychologically, it’d make a ton of sense. Lane, regardless of her work, had always had this hatred for her. The kind you’d only notice if you could peek behind closed doors. In crowded rooms, he’d make it seem like they were the best of friends, laughing and joking —always making her feel like she was the most important person in the room. 

Professionally though, he’d do whatever it takes to undermine her. This included betraying a cause they agreed needed support. 

“You and I both know the only reason I’m in this position is because of you.”

  As soon as she says this it’s as if Lane’s whole persona changes. Once calm and well-equipped to handle anything thrown his way, the man in front of her is now boiling. A newfound pressure suddenly found behind the pupils of his eyes, threatening her very existence. “I’d take the deal if I were you,” he says then, quiet and stern, the muscles in his neck twitching beneath tan skin that she knows wants to make contact more than anything in this world. 

She darts a hand to her gun without hesitation, directing it towards the centre of his throat as he stands. “Wasn’t very smart of you to come unarmed.”

His eyes narrow to a point, the obvious anger in his features amplifying the coldness of his pale irises. “Says you. All you got is a gun and a body bag.” 

“It’s more than you have.”

“Is it?” 

Fuck.

She has to force herself not to falter once she realizes the truth. Which is that, instead of coming as a potential and (very unlikely) ally, Lane was merely a pawn. An easy distraction in a plan much bigger than either of them.

Immediately, Avis knows this because instead of running for the hills as she should’ve, she let her ego get the better of her, leaving her in a very precarious position.

“How many?”

Lane shrugs, his old, casual toxicity bubbling back to the surface. “I’d tell you but that’d ruin the fun, wouldn’t it?” he says, taking a few steps forward, ignoring the gun still locked onto his esophagus. 

“I mean, I don’t think so, personally.” With a smile, Avis, tightens her fingers around the weapon, teasing the trigger further and further until he’s standing in front of her and she’s taking the shot, missing by a mile thanks to Lane’s quick movements. 

“You’re rusty,” he grunts then, one hand now located on the barrel of the gun, pushing it towards the wall behind him with a grin so wide she can practically see her reflection off his crooked teeth.

“And you’re still so fucking annoying.” Shoving the gun, and ultimately him, backward she focuses on the loosening of her joints, feeling them melt away as she sinks into the floor, becoming nothing but a darkened shadow as she rushes around Lane’s legs. 

Now above her, he attempts to step on her newly developed form, cursing under his breath as he misses once, then twice, before ultimately giving up and letting her slip through the doorway. 

Once outside, Avis continues moving, listening to the sound of Lane yelling before half a dozen agents come barreling out from around the property, causing her to push herself faster across the paved driveway before moving across the street and into the tree line. Out of necessity, she makes sure to choose the most crowded path available before regaining human form and continuing on foot, panting at the overexertion that comes with using her powers. 

Inside her chest she can feel her heart aching from the movement, threatening to stop entirely from exhaustion. Her limbs, similarly, crack with the pain of their previous disintegration, signalling her need to rest. To find a safe place to recuperate because Avis knows she can’t keep going. Not like this. 

So, instead of continuing she merely stops and leans against a nearby tree, looking behind her to reassess. 

Already she can hear their footsteps —the breaking of branches and the shuffle of bushes as the agents sent to take her in find their way closer. 

Swearing under her breath, she pushes off the tree and once again dissolves into the ground, ignoring the way her body screams for surrender as she shoots through the dirt, continuing until she finds a nearby road. Once there, she turns to follow it, rushing through the centre line in search of a vehicle she can perhaps commandeer, praying to whatever god there is that they’ll grant her this one fucking, stupid grace.

It takes about a minute of moving. A minute of pure, agonizing pain, until she sees the lights of a silver sedan, enter her view, filling her with both relief and fear as she slithers up out of the pavement with her arms out at her sides, once again gambling with a fate she doesn’t actually believe in. 

“Please, please, please…” she mutters under her breath, closing her eyes as she braces for possible impact. 

Thankfully though, it doesn’t come. No, instead the only thing that hits is the sound of screeching tires and angry yells, both of which she ignores once she gets her bearings back and forces her way into the passenger side of the vehicle. 

“Drive.” 

Without hesitation she pulls a knife out of a holster beneath her shirt, pointing it towards the driver’s throat.

“Wait —what?” 

The man, pale and stricken with fear, follows orders regardless of the confusion, stepping so hard on the gas that, as they lurch forward, Avis nearly fumbles with the knife in her burning hand. 

“Follow this road until you hit Arviat, then drop me off at Tangmaarvik.” 

“Wh—where?” Trying to pull himself further away from the knife, Avis notices the man’s grip on the steering wheel begins to tighten, his posture so tightly wound it’s as if he’s about to burst. 

It makes her sympathize but only for a moment, knowing the anxiety he feels dealing with an unprepared threat. How his breath quickens and the beads of sweat across his forehead collect over time. 

Like her he’s probably got a life outside of this occurrence —maybe a wife and kids; most likely a job and house. He’s got goals and hobbies and preferences —and like her, he’s got plans that don’t involve dying tonight. 

“Relax, I’m not going to kill you.”

She knows admitting such a thing is a bit odd, not to mention stupid. Considering the whole point of taking a hostage is to first and foremost portray yourself as an immediate threat. Admitting the opposite kind of diminishes the whole deal. 

Yet, the man before her still panics. Despite the admittance of safety, he still trembles when she moves her hand away from his throat, bumbling over words of desperation, begging her not to kill him. 

“Did you not just hear me?” she snaps, her voice loud in the confines they both find themselves sharing. “I’m not gonna hurt you. Not if you listen.”

“I’ll listen,” he stutters. “Please, just… just don’t kill me.”

Instead of responding, Avis rolls her eyes, annoyed, trying her best not to let her lack of patience get the better of her as they continue down the road, driving at such speeds that, if a cop were to appear, they’d surely get pulled over. 

Because of this, she quickly tells the man to slow down. “Follow the speed limit. Don’t draw any attention to yourself,” she tells him, watching the way he slowly but surely follows suit, his body loosening on the grip it once had as they continue east. 

-

By the third hour, Avis is certain Lane has lost her, prompting a sigh of relief to rise through her aching bones as she settles further into the chair. Next to her, the driver shoots her a glance once he sees this —the way she softens into the plush of the cushion, her body limp with fatigue. 

“Can, uh, I ask you a question?” he asks, hesitant but no longer stuttering. 

Avis nods, too tired to deny the man. 

“How did you appear in the road so suddenly? It was like, you were there and then you weren’t.”

“Well, obviously you’re seeing things because I was always there,” she says, trying her best to hide the smirk that threatens to peek out from the edge of her lips. “I ran out of the forest.”

The man scrunches his face in confusion. “No you didn’t.”

“Uh, yeah, I did.” 

“No yo—“

“Are you seriously gonna argue with the bitch with the knife?”

Immediately he presses his lips together and shakes his head, once again focusing on the road. “Yup, fair enough, my bad.” 

Guiltily, Avis finds his reaction sort of humorous but instead of laughing she merely just bites her lip, following his gaze. “Why were you out driving so late anyway?” 

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” 

He shrugs his shoulders. “Couldn’t sleep, I guess.”

She wants to pry further. Out of a mix of curiosity and boredom, she wants to learn about this man’s life. Why, like her, he was out and about in the early hours of the morning, wandering.

“Any particular reason?”

He opens his mouth —closes it and then opens it once more before he catches her glance. After that his eyes narrow, more confusion taking over his face once he realizes that she’s genuinely asking. That, despite scaring the absolute shit out of him with a knife just hours ago, Avis actually cares about what he has to say. 

It’s unexpected, to say the least, but not entirely unwelcome as he ponders the question, sitting with it for a good few minutes before letting loose the thoughts within his mind.

“I guess I just feel a bit lost? I don’t know. I thought I was doing well for myself. Doing what I was told, when I was told to,” he says. “Recently, I got this really good job. One that’s hard to come by but it pays well. At first I hated it, tried to quit but, just couldn’t because for so long before that I had nothing. No prospects or purpose. It was like I was just this shell, coasting along from one bad situation to another.” He pauses —shrugs his shoulders and then looks towards the passenger seat, watching Avis listen to the sound of his voice with actual interest. 

Her body language is more open than before. Awkwardly, rather than leaning against the window, she’s now angled towards the centre console, her elbow perched upon it so that rests her head against her palm. Her expression, a mixture of focus and sleep makes him question whether or not he should continue. Whether he should reveal his cards to this dangerous woman he just met.

“Anyway, I think this job’s making me restless again. At first it was something new —something exciting to look forward to but now that I’ve been doing it for so long it’s like I’ve stagnated.” 

“So quit?”

At first, her bluntness catches him off guard, then it occurs to him that she doesn’t quite understand. “I can’t just quit.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s my job?”

“Get a new one?”

“I can’t?”

She raises her brow. “Can’t you?”

“Not really.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“Because w—“

  Before she can continue, she notices a city sign out of the corner of her eye. Its reflective, green backdrop pulls her out of the nonsense she’s managed to find herself in. Out of this slivering moment of normalcy, she’s longed for ever since she left SHIELD to complete this mission on her. 

For a moment, it makes her sad, realizing that this isn’t her life anymore. That no longer does she have the privilege of having casual conversations with people in cars because she has other things to worry about. Things like killing and living and completing what she started.

Returning to her previous persona, Avis motions her knife back toward the driver. “It’s just up ahead. Two blocks on the left,” she tells him, but this time instead of panicking he just nods. 

Simple and curt, he twitches as he follows directions and wordlessly pulls into the small lot. Once there, he raises his hands in the air and motions to the ignition, asking if he needs to turn it off.

In response, Avis shakes her head and goes to open the door, finding herself filled with something foreign once she realizes it’s locked.

“Hey can y—“

A sharp object finds its way into her shoulder before she can properly react, causing her mouth to open and a gasp to fall out as she reaches to grab it. Before she can though, a hand takes hold of her wrist to turn her around, prompting her chest and head to simultaneously slam against the glass with a thud. 

Under her breath, she cries out profanities. A series of expletives bounce off the window, falling onto deaf ears that are overshadowed by an awful laugh. “God, you really are exactly how they said you’d be,” a new voice says. Its tone harsher and more condescending, making Avis clench her teeth with rage as she struggles under his grasp, too worn out to properly fight. 

“Mm, a bit more of a fighter, I’d say though. Bit shit with a knife but definitely not as weak as they say. You got potential.”

“Potential?” Somehow through the confusion and the blood loss she manages to turn to look at her captor, realizing who it is. 

Instantly, her mind races at his image. He’s taller than he thought he’d be, bulkier in a way that still manages to appear slim. His features, even in the dimness of the car light jump out like an unforgotten memory, taunting her with wicked teeth and dagger-like eyes. 

Like her, he’s got thick, dark hair and creasing lines of age that make it look like they're almost similar in age, making her wonder if that’s truly where the similarities lie. Sure, he’s a God. An alien not of this world who once sought to destroy this one, but perhaps there’s something else to him. Something expendable. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Tightening his grip on her arm, he twists it up and behind her back, making the pain in her shoulder further erupt. 

Once again she cries out, holding back tears as she turns her face back to the window, trying to gain some relief as she presses her forehead to cool glass.

“I’m merely here doing your boss a favour,” he says, applying more and more pressure until Avis is screaming through bitten lips beneath his grasp, begging him to stop until he mutters something she doesn’t quite catch and rips the blade right out of her back again.

-

TAGGING: @lovelysizzlingbluebird, @just-someone11 , @linaax, @eleniblue, @infinitystoner, @ozymdias, @use-your-telescope, @liminalpebble, @freegardenbanananeck, @lokixryss, @violethaze, @simplyholl, @coldnique, @mischief2sarawr, @jasperthechaosgremlin (if you’d like to be added fill out this form)

[promisemepancakes]

Future Postings

Hey y'all! I know it's been like, forever, since I posted any stories on here. I know I was going to continue with the Bly Manor fanfic, the only reason I stopped was because I couldn't rewatch it. I couldn't get my fill of Peter Quint ;-; But a chapter 2 is in the works, so I will try and recount the series from my head.

And now...I don't know who will see this, but for those who like The Hunger Games, a fanfic is in the works as well! Right now, I'm on a roll with the series and franchise because of my gracious bestie @archerofthemists. Well, I hope this goes well, and I get back to writing with a lot of things on my plate. I don't know when the first chapter of my Hunger Games fanfic will come out, but I hope y'all will like it.

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Lokabrenna

(1-?)

Short story # 16

✨Fandom(s) - Vikings & The Last Kingdom

💍Pairing - Osferth X Reader

🕯Summary - After many years, you and your brothers are reunited with your father, King Ragnar. Along side him are two men you've never met. And when met face to face with your father, you unleash your rage of being abandoned.

⚠️Warning(s) - Talk of mutilation, near death experience, abandonment, and that's about it I think.

📝Note(s) - Okay so I randomly started brewing this story in my head. I've watched all but like the last season of Vikings, and this story will have little to do with the storyline up until the point Ragnar comes back. Now I've never watched The Last Kingdom, I want to start watching it soon, but as I am writing this piece I haven't watched any. So this crossover will be interesting to say the least. Oh and I apologize but I am writing this with the idea that the reader is about 6'7", and in time I'll explain why in later notes. But for the most part this won't be mentioned, but it will pop up every so often. Reader is also described to have emerald green eyes, dark hair the first two things being things from her mother, and scars she obtained as a girl. Other than that the readers image is up to you. So the read is kinda like an OC but with your name, and the majority of your image. Oh and in this story the Norse Gods are real, and several will be involved in this story. But some things to do with the Gods isn't actually a part of Norse mythology, I'm just bending some of it to work best with the story. (Thank you for taking the time to read the notes if you have.)

🗝Key information - Lokabrenna meaning Loki's Torch in this story. (Eventually it will make perfect sense.)

🌬Year posted - 2022

📖Reading time roughly - Ten minutes.

🙈Rating - SFW/NSFW

◈ Part 1.) | Part 2.) |

🎧Playlist to listen to while reading.↓↓↓

Sparing with Björn was something (Y/n) indulged with most days, as he was the only one of her brothers willing to spar with her, and the only one that would push her to better her skills. Though her twin, Ivar would likely spar with her and push her to be the best, his legs prevented him from being able to do as much as Björn could. The others watched their eldest brother fought with their little sister, who wasn't quite so little, as she stood roughly four inches above Björn. Ubbe chuckled when (Y/n) slammed her shield into Björns, making the blond stumble back several inches. "You can do better than that." (Y/n) taunted her brother, blocking his sword and countering swiftly, her blade resting beside his neck. "Honestly I'm beginning to think you are getting old brother." She teased, making the others snicker on the sidelines. Björn scoffed with a grin, breaking away from her and beginning the fight again.

"King Ragnar has returned." A voice called out, the words making (Y/n)'s stance falter, giving Björn the opportunity to trip her, making her land face first into the dirt. "Shit." Björn muttered under his breath, realizing his mistake, he tossed his shield and sword aside. The others approaching as she rolled onto her back, looking to the blue sky with glossy emerald eyes. "I didn't mean to-" She cut Björn off. "It isn't that." She closed her eyes for a moment, only opening them again when Ivar brushed her hair away from her eyes. "He doesn't know she is alive." Ivar reminded their brothers in a soft tone, making the eldest sigh with realization. Björn offered his hand to (Y/n), pulling her to her feet when she accepted his offer. "Well then, he will be surprised hm." The blond patted her shoulder affectionately, smiling when she chuckled at that. "Come on then, let's go see the old man." She dusted herself off then followed behind her brother's, keeping pace with Ivar as she always would.

The growing crowd parted for the arrival of the Princes and Princess, allowing Ragnar to see his children for the first time in many years. The shock apparent when his eyes laid on (Y/n), who stood tall beside her brother's, trying to suppress her emotions. "(Y/n)." Ragnar breathed out her name, tears welling in his eyes at the sight of his only surviving daughter. Ragnar approached her with slow steps, as if he was afraid she would vanish if he approached to quickly. "Little (Y/n)." He smiled taking in the sight of her. "Not so little any more." He remarked with a grin, his eyes casting to her left where Ivar sat, his pointer finger curled around (Y/n)'s, something they had done since birth for comfort. "Hello Ivar." Ragnar smiled down at his youngest son, and for a moment Ivar mirrored his smile, until (Y/n) suddenly shoved Ragnar away. The crowd grew deathly silent, watching the scene unfold before them.

"You left me." She hissed lowly, looming over her father. "I didn't-." Ragnar tried, but she stalked forward, putting her face into his. "You left me for dead." (Y/n) growled quietly, fire practically glowing within her emerald orbs. "I thought you had died." He argued. "I called out to you, I screamed so you would hear me. And yet you left me to burn in that dragons fire." Her gaze cast to the two strange men accompanying the King. "Let me guess, this is the boy you took in after you abandoned me?" She accused, Ragnar's eyes shimmering with shame. "You left all of us, but you would raise this stranger as if he were your own." She scoffed. "You think we did not know? That we didn't keep an eye on you? That we wouldn't hear about the young warrior claiming to be another son of King Ragnar?" She straightened her back, looming over her father once more. "You are no King, and you are no father, you are just an old man wallowing in self pity." She hissed before turning her back on him.

"I am your father, and I am your King!" Ragnar yelled, his anger only fueling (Y/n)'s rage. She quickly spun on her heel, and Björn tried catching her arm as she moved to swing. He failed in holding her back, instead he only pulled two of her rings off before her fist collided with Ragnar's jaw, the warn man fell to one knee, blood oozing from his lip. "You stopped being my father when you left me for dead, and you are a worthless King that even the Gods do not recognize." Her voice boomed over the crowd, and as quickly as she had said that, she stormed off. Shoving her way through the crowd, unaware of her brother's following her. Björn crouched down to pick up (Y/n)'s rings, which had fallen to the ground. While Uhtred and Osferth helped Ragnar to his feet, despite the old King's demands to be left alone. "You are not the man I once knew." Björn commented as he rose to his feet, looking his father in the eyes. "Like (Y/n)... I cannot forgive you for what you did to her." He added before walking away, intent on joining his siblings again.

(Y/n) began her trek into the woods, her sword secured to her hip, and her large grey cloak fastened around her shoulders. "Princess wait a moment." Uhtred called out as he and Osferth jogged after her into the woods. "Why should I even speak to you?" She glowered at the man, who looked almost sheepish before her. "I'm sorry." He offered, which only confused her. "Why are you sorry?" She questioned. "Because of your father." He explained. "I am not angry at my father for raising you... I am angry that he so easily abandoned me and my brothers. And yet instead of coming home, with or without you, he stayed out there and pretended as if he wasn't a King, as if he didn't have his own children to care for." She turned away and began walking again, only for the men to follow her. "You said he left you for dead? I had assumed he left you here with your brothers." He spoke up again, his words causing her to stop again. "My father took me with him when he ran away from Kattegat, I was to young to understand what was happening." She pulled her hood down, properly observing the two.

"I was with him for two years, we lived in a cabin far from here. One evening while he was out hunting a dragon descended upon the cabin. It set the cabin on fire while I was trapped inside, I cried out for my father to save me, but he never came. The dragon had left as quickly as it came, and I was left alone to burn alive." The smaller of the two grimaced at her words. "I found myself trapped in the best place however, as the smoke could not reach me. When part of the wall finally crumbled to the ground, I crawled as best I could out of the cabin. I was weak, and burnt badly. The sky was dark by this point, and my father nowhere in sight." She licked her lips before continuing. "I did the only thing I could think to do, I wept for the Gods. Praying that one of them would hear me, and offer me aid. The wolf God Fenrir heard me, and sent his sons Hati and Sköll to aid me. They found me and used what little magic they could to mend my wounds, which did very little, but it kept me alive long enough for them to bring me home."

She pulled to cord of her cloak, allowing it to fall to the ground. "They ran for seven days and eight nights with me atop Hati until they reached Kattegat. They broke into my families long house, with me on the brink of death, and the moment my mother laid eyes on me she knew what had happened. For she dreamt about it the very same night it happened. She sent for healers from far and wide, and with their help I was nurtured back to health. I bare the scars of my father's negligence, and can never forgive him for it." She turned her back to the men, and quickly swept her shirt up to show them, the mass amount of burnt skin stretched across the expanse of her back. "Gods." Uhtred muttered under his breath, the both of them stunned by the sheer amount of tattered skin, each wondering how she could survive such a thing. The sound of a branch snapping caught their attention, and just as her brothers walked into view (Y/n) dropped her shirt, now facing her brother's.

"You are going to see him aren't you? To pay tribute?" Ubbe asked as she picked up her cloak. "I am." She nodded her head in agreement. "We're coming with you." Björn stated. "Why?" She wondered. "We wish to give thanks to the ones who saved you." Ivar cut in, moving around Ubbe to sit at her feet. "Hvitserk, Sigurd, why are you coming? Neither of you have ever seemed to care much about me." She tilted her head, her words making Hvitserk scoff. "You are still our sister." Sigurd argued. "We care more deeply than you think." Hvitserk added. "Okay... You can all come with me." She smiled at her brother's, her gaze casting to Uhtred and Osferth when Uhtred cleared his throat. "Who are you going to see?" He questioned. "Fenrir wolf." Her words stunned them both for a moment. "We shall come as well." Uhtred insisted. "And why is that?" (Y/n) questioned. "I feel that we must." He vaguely explained, making (Y/n) arch a brow at him.

"If that is what you wish, then so be it." She turned her attention then to Ivar. "I shall carry you Ivar, this is a long journey, and I do not wish for you to suffer." She knelt before him. "So you shall suffer instead?" Ivar argued stubbornly. "I will happily suffer for you dear brother." She assured him, before playfully bumping her forehead against his. Only turning her back to him when he grinned at her, and effortlessly she hoisted her twin onto her back, and rose to her feet. "We will not be back until tomorrow evening." She warned them, half expecting Uhtred and Osferth to turn back. A faint grin ghosting her lips when they continued to follow her lead deeper into the woods. "I didn't expect Fenrir to be so close to Kattegat." Uhtred remarked. "He isn't. But one of the passageways to him is." (Y/n) explained, the entire encounter leaving Osferth confused in his silence, though he continued to follow his friend regardless of his doubts.

← Previously | Continue →

◈ Part 1.) | Part 2.) |

⚜ Leave a comment and let me know what you think, and if you'd like to be tagged in future parts of this story. - Jaded Monkey🐒

[jmscornerlibrary]

Set Me Free - a Loki x OC fanfiction - Chapter One

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Hello :) I'm Jmw. So, I'm re-writing an old fanfiction of mine, and will be posting the chapters accordingly. There will be angst, fluff, and no smut, though it may get very slightly spicy at times (no gross details, or explicit content, I promise). However, since this deals with some heavy topics like madness and torture, I am going to rate this an 18 so people with a fragile heart can avoid being traumatised.

This is a Loki/OC, childhood-friends (sort of) to enemies to lovers. Thor will be her, so will Tony Stark. This is before Avengers and after Thor: Dark World, but it does have the Avengers. The chronology may vary from the line of events slightly.

I'll try and update as quickly as I can, anyway... here's the first chapter.

Ah, and this is just a story - there is only one God and he wants the best for you :)

Enjoy!

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Chapter One - In which Loki is mistaken for one who cares.

Vengeance crumbles the soul. It sways foundations, cracks backbones. It topples tenderness in the heart and reduces honesty to a brittle sculpture which eventually shatters as it's blown through by the ice of disappointment; it adorns feelings with masks woven of intricate plans of deceit and manipulation. 

And so Loki Laufeyson’s heart became hard like black ice, which ensnared all the raw and red and beating within it, and turned him into a being of darkness, with black crystals cutting through the blood in his veins, shrouding his chest in armour of indifference, flooding his intestines with acid and clenching his jaw, tight.

Could one see this turmoil and hidden fury in his eyes? Yes and no. His eyes became devoid of warmth and seemed like two pristine spheres - beautiful spheres, blue like jotun skin - set there merely as a tool for deceit and treachery, instead of being a window to his soul, and the turmoil he hid well enough for nobody to notice.

Loki often scoffed at that little fanciful statement. Who in their right mind saw the soul through the eyes, like through windows? When he observed other people’s eyes he saw nothing but twitching matter, something which required an irritating amount of protection on the battlefield, two frustratingly weak little points which simultaneously provided something as valuable and immense as vision. What fool wrote that statement, he wondered, then decided whatever state of intoxication that moron was in when he decided to pick up a quill and play being a poet must have been an incredibly deep one.

Or so Loki rambled on, monologuing internally to drown out the real reason why he scoffed so at a statement so true: if eyes were the window to his soul, then he feared what it was that other people - people who possessed this uncanny ability of seeing soul through the eyes, something which he had trouble with since forever - may see when they looked at his own.

It was a wonder he wasn’t spat at more often, if so many people could see the soul through the eyes. Or perhaps it was why he was spat at so often, be it with words, brutal weapons or projectiles of saliva.

But now, Loki Laufeyson did not care, for his heart was no better than deadened flesh. His heart was encased in black crystals, thoughts of revenge burned in his mind and branded his heart with something hot and seething.

Asgard was never his! Not for one accursed moment!

Loki looked up at the dimming sky and wished with every piece of his heart that he could set it on fire and watch it burn. It looked far too peaceful for him to be content with. The stars even had the audacity to wink at him - actually wink at him! As though he was just little Loki throwing a tantrum in the middle of Central Park, not the king of Asgard who was slowly descending into madness of his own accord!

Loki stared back at the millions of serene lights, looking at him from above. Or were they looking at him? Perhaps he was only thinking that their teeth-sucking was directed at him. In fact, it must have been only him - the great, omniscient stars couldn't care less about the current king of Asgard or about his miserable business.

Like Odin. Loki laughed. Odin couldn’t care less either. He must have had as much fun as those damned stars, watching Loki grow up and fight with Thor about who would be king. Oh, he must have had quite the giggle as they sparred, as they sent scholar after scholar tearing their hair and nanny after nanny running off in tears at their unfathomable characters, knowing full well which perfect son would be the final victor.

Loki clenched his fists until he heard his knuckles cracking and snapping. It had been one thousand years. It had been more than one thousand years. He had believed, for more than one thousand years, that he had been viewed as an equal, as a competitor. But no. All along, he had been a pawn. A tool. A little political reservation!

He gave a few notes of black, harsh-sounding laughter which almost made the grass wither. He had lived in his brother's shadow for so long, holding onto an illusion that somewhere, beneath all these brewing thoughts and schemes he would, one day, make his shot at being worthy and reach the crown with the tips of his fingers.

But this crown had been plucked out of his reach. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Loki had simply reached out to take it. But Loki hadn’t simply reached out to take it - he had crawled, he had pulled himself forward through fields of broken glass and metal, he had torn at the solid ground and grit and dust with his teeth in the darkness of his brother’s huge silhouette, just so that he could move along with a pace which wasn’t pitiful to the ones whom he valued. And when he been just about to grasp it, grasp this chance, shoot this shot… Odin had plucked the crown from him and placed it on Thor’s head. And Thor hadn’t been battered. Thor hadn’t had a single bruise, a single scratch upon him, from his journey to the crown. Thor hadn’t crawled forward on his knees through thorns and sharp, jagged rocks. Thor had been ridden towards the crown in a carriage, reclining with his feet on the opposite seat with everything he needed at his elbow, leaving Loki to be run over and stamped over by the horses which pulled it.

But now, Loki had a plan. One so intricate and subtle, nobody would notice his justified intentions. He would destroy the very place he came from, the very place which posed threat and show Odin that it was he, Loki Laufeyson, the lesser son, who accomplished something even the great Thor Odinson couldn’t do. If Odin wanted him to play at being worthy, so be it. He’d do it his own way. Jotunheim was going to be wiped off the face of the planet, and his father would perhaps finally grace him with-

Loki realised where his train of thought was going, then the shadows in his face darkened as he snarled.

“He’s not my father,” he spat at a nearby tree, sending it cowering and twitching as it ought to when he glared at it, internally shame-faced at some hidden longing of being acknowledged by the Allfather. Loki didn’t need to be acknowledged. He was the god of chaos and he could do everything the god of thunder could, more, for he wasn’t an oaf who had to threaten the scholars so that Odin would receive word that he did, indeed, pass all of his tests which involved more subtlety and intelligence than swinging Mjolnir around his thick head did.

Loki didn’t quite delve into the reason as to why he escaped to Midgard for the day, well, evening. He hated mortals. They were stupid and weak. And yet Asgard was too much, today - this morning Loki had awoken with something horrible and burning stumbling up and down his spine and leaking into his thoughts. He needed to get away, get away from this personal Hel he was walking into… and he supposed there was an element of curiosity too, as to what his brother would now be doing in a place which wasn’t even worthy to uphold one of his boots.

The distant hum of machinery never ceased, even if there was nothing but trees for quite some distance around him, and it only made his thoughts blacker as he gritted his teeth. Perhaps he ought to have chosen a different location to revel in his bitterness than this suffocating park. Even the trees and foliage growing around sparsely looked as though they were artificial.

Then, someone spoke.

“Hello?”

Loki disregarded this voice and presence, a small thought of his weighing more than whatever life coursed through this impertinent mortal’s veins. 

He looked up at the darkening sky and returned his thoughts to this poisoned cup life served him, which he was forced to drink from and watch as his veins became black, as his mouth started to froth and ice began to spread through his insides, hurting him, cutting him, spiking him.

Ice. Ha, ha! Of course, Loki forgot! Ice wouldn’t hurt him. No, because Loki was never Odinson in the first place; he was Laufeyson! He was a blue-skinned bastard! He was a jotun-!

“Excuse me.”

Loki made a sound similar to a growl and whipped around. If this mortal knew who he was, it would be grovelling on its papery little knees for forgiveness for interrupting his inner monologue. But Loki would not be forgiving. Oh, no. Quite frankly, he had enough of everything which spoke and had eyes, and if he was going to officially become an outcast, he was going to put his whole blackened soul into it. He’d had enough of being trodden on by others.

It was dark, but light enough for shapes to be distinguishable in the evening, and Loki had sharp eyes. When he focused them on this pathetic little shape, his murderous intentions lessened a little, because he had set them upon a child. A small child. Small enough not to be able to survive with a mother’s hand to hold, and yet it was here, with no other presence around, looking up at him as though he was a potential mother. 

It sniffed. Hah, it was crying; its lip was trembling! Disgusting.

“Sorry… Have you seen a man here anywhere?” it said, its voice torn but still strangely polite for a creature so small. Loki hated its sound as soon as it spoke, for it had that unclear quality which came from very recently learning how to speak which grated on his already-tender nerves.

“No,” he replied curtly, then flicked his head to the side for it to move on. But it didn’t seem to take the hint, merely stared up at him with the two, huge eyes in its head shining. Loki couldn’t quite tell, but he thought they were grey. A strange colour. Perhaps young mortal offspring had different eyes to Asgardian children.

When a few moments had passed and still it stood there, Loki began to grow irritated. Perhaps he ought to shoo it away like some meandering cattle. Did it not get the hint? Was it stupid?

He turned back to stare at it and it shifted, bowing its head and clenching its hands at its small chest. 

“I’m lost,” it said, sniffing, tears spilling down its small face.

Loki chuckled emptily at its words. He was lost too, though he had a place to call home - a place which he now officially ruled over, actually - and he felt it, cold and empty in this soul which people could see through the eyes and he kept somewhere in his chest. In his chest… It must be the reason why it felt so cold recently. 

“Sad, isn’t it,” he said to it, folding his hands behind his back. “Quite a tragedy.”

He observed the creature with distaste. It was undoubtedly female. In the last slivers of light, Loki could make out black hair curling to its chin and rather clear features, as though they belonged to an artist’s paintbrush.

He sighed. “Why don’t you do us both a favour and go and find your mother, hm?”

The mortal child wiped its face and gave a resigned sigh. 

“My mother is dead.”

Loki blinked. “Oh.”

He shifted from foot to foot, felt a spike of sympathy, then grew immediately irritated for giving a fraction of a damn, and they grew even more irritated because his moment of dark contemplation of his existence was utterly ruined and now he was going to have to work himself up again to produce it.

“What makes you think I’m going to help you?” he snapped, then really did shoo it away like a stray cat. “Be on your way! Shoo! Off you go! Get going!”

But it stood its ground and did nothing but stare at him. Loki’s fingers twitched. Was it dim-witted? Was it moronic? Pathetic, stupid creature! Did it not see he was incensed?

“Away!” He raised his voice. “I have nothing for you!”

He snarled, baring his teeth. Scare it off, that should do it.

But it didn’t look scared, though it did obediently take a few steps back warily, as though he was a mad man, which only made his fingers tighten and his temper flame, but then there was a rustle to their left; it jumped, its grey eyes widening, then stumbled forward again, out of the shadows of the bushes.

It looked so small in this dark, cold setting of dusk, slight, insignificant compared to the looming trees. It looked as lost as it said it was. But it could not help itself, no matter how hard it tried. He still had a way out. Theoretically, anyway.

Loki gritted his teeth and clenched his fist and muttered some black curses under his breath which he would have never repeated anywhere near his mother for he would have gotten walloped like a swine being butchered.

“Right, fine,” he said airily. “Stay here and bother me, if it makes you feel better.” He waved his hand at it, then turned his back on it. He chuckled, then lowered his voice. “If only you knew who I was. You’d be running for the hills as fast as your little legs could carry you.”

He had been speaking mainly to himself, but its silly voice sounded again and, he had to give it the credit, it made the corners of his lips turn up.

“I know who you are.”

Loki gave a scoffing laugh, then tittered. “Oh, yes. Of course you do.”

“I do,” it insisted.

“I’m sure you do,” he turned towards it, but not completely, for it did not deserve his full attention, and immediately grew irritated at himself for giving it so much attention when he had came to Midgard for a lack of it. “After all, you’re all big and grown up. Grown up enough to navigate this extensive stretch of land.” He encompassed the dismal park with a gesture. “In fact, why don’t you go and explore it?”

He looked at its eyes, then suppressed a shiver. They shouldn’t have belonged to a creature so small and insignificant. They were solemn and knowing, like his mother’s often were whenever he had an outburst; like they had seen just as much as his had.

“Go on,” he mouthed to it, making a pointer with his hand, turning his eyes towards any other features but its observational tools. “Off you go.”

It fixed his eyes onto his and said, “You are Loki Laufeyson, the king of Asgard.”

Loki halted in his tracks, feeling something cold in his veins, his airy smile melting off his face and being replaced by cold astonishment.

“What?” he whispered, his voice sharp as a knife. “What did you just call me?”

Its small brows met, but it fulfilled his request. “I said you are Loki Laufey-”

He reached it in a flash and clamped his hand upon the lower part of its face. He felt his chest heaving up and down with searing rage and he could have sworn that his hand was now tinged with an accursed hue of blue in the dim light.

“Silence,” he hissed, as it struggled under his grasp. “Or I’ll make sure you’ll never speak again.”

It clutched his hand and pushed it down, its eyes wide. “Cold!” it whimpered, clutching at its face. “You’re cold, you’re so cold!”

Loki retracted his hand, something unravelling in his chest as he watched it rub its face and its lips trembling.

“I-” He made a motion with his hand, as though he could brush away his outburst with the material of his pants, then scowled and straightened, severing his guilt and caging himself. “Who are you? How do you know who I am?”

There was no disguise upon it. It wasn’t an illusion. If it was, he would have distorted it with his touch, or his hand would have passed right through it. What was this? This was a mortal child who knew his name! It knew his heritage! Nobody knew of his true heritage but Odin and Frigga!

He took a few steps back, his hands instinctively reaching for his daggers; he whipped them out and brandished them, the metal gleaming cruelly in the fading light. 

“Listen, witch, or whatever you are…” He brought the dagger up to its snub nose and watched it furrow its brows and frown at him. “... either you tell me who you are and what your plan is, or I’m going to be the living evidence of exactly why you shouldn’t talk to strangers.”

It was silent. 

“Speak!” he yelled, losing his temper. “Who sent you? Are you a spy?”

The mortal child blinked up at him. It seemed not to understand that it could be skinned like a hare if he only wished for it, looking at the gleaming blades with interest instead; looking up at him as though he was the young one frolicking, here!

Loki felt a pang of embarrassment, then lowered the tip of his blade. He was threatening a being which had probably just learned how to walk of its own accord. It didn’t understand him. 

He sheathed his daggers and straightened, his blood still roaring in his ears and his chest heaving, and he stared down at it, waiting for it to make the next move.

Its gaze travelled to his hands, to his eyes, then it blinked and began to pull its pink, fluffy sleeves down to grab their ends.

“My name is Henrietta Knott.” It managed to engulf its hands in sleeve, flapped them, then sighed and swallowed. “I turn six in half a year. My parents died in a fire when I was… two.”

Loki clenched his fists. It was one thing loathing the man who raised him and not having a father at all. Or a mother. Perhaps he would have died if Odin hadn’t taken him in.

“I live with my uncle,” it continued. “We went for a walk, and then he disappeared.”

Loki frowned. “He disappeared.”

It nodded and when it spoke next its voice was trembling again. “I turned around and he wasn’t there anymore.”

With that, fresh tears began to spill down its cheeks and it stood there, crying, not even bothering to wipe its face. It looked truly pitiable, this shivering form in a pink fluffy coat and yellow, waterproof boots which were far too big for it.

Loki wasn’t proud to admit it, not even to himself, but at that moment he had never felt more helpless, as irritation, spite, anger and pity sloshed against one another in his chest. His fingers twitched behind his back as he held them there and he tried to come up with something to contribute to the situation with.

“I won’t help you,” he finally said, more to clarify this to himself than to inform the sobbing thing of his lack of heart.

“You will,” it insisted, sniffing. “You will help me.”

“You heard me, child.”

“You will.” It stopped crying now, swallowing and wiping its face. “Even if you are a bad man. You wouldn’t really hurt a child. Not knowingly.”

Loki opened his mouth, then gave a snort of disbelief. The audacity of this creature! What was that even supposed to mean? What in the Allfather’s name was all this?

“I beg your pardon?”

It gave a shaky sigh, then regained control over itself. “Your heart is horrible. You have killed people through ignorance. Through boredom.”

Loki listened with his mind blank to the words tumbling from this five-year-old’s tongue and wondered how it knew what ignorance meant.

“Look at your hands,” it said pointedly. “They’re awful, aren’t they?”

Loki looked at them obediently, stunned out of his senses, something which never happened. He was the one who frazzled people’s senses; and here was this practically a new-born in comparison to him, telling him of his sins while he blundered!

He felt his nostrils flaring and lowered his hands with some force, his face stretching into something perhaps an opponent would find threatening, but this child only looked at him curiously with a strange solemn glimmer in its eyes as it watched him.

“Look at your hands,” it repeated, then pointed at them and flapped its own.

Loki tore his scouring gaze from it and looked down at his hands once more. He turned them over, running his vision over their creases, their details, their length. Nothing.

After a few moments, he shook his head slowly and cast a questioning look back at the child.

“I admit that I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said flatly. “What am I meant to be seeing?”

“They drip with black,” the child pronounced. “Black which doesn’t belong to you.”

“Explain yourself.”

“It’s blood.” It nodded when his expression became blank. “Of the people you’ve hurt. Killed.”

He gave a harsh laugh to mask the strange quiver of his heart, fear seeping through his bones. 

“Blood is red,” he said cuttingly. “You’ve missed that part of your homework, little creature. Now, you ought to go home and do it before some equally evil man comes to find you and hurts you.”

It shivered, then took a few steps forward; closer to him.

“If you killed by accident, the blood would be red.”

Loki felt a strange urge to push it away with his foot as the child took hold of his coat, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Hadn’t he threatened it a moment ago? And yet it was clinging to him like he was safe, for all the apparent black dripping from his hands. If it hadn’t said what she had a few moments ago, Loki would have been certain it had a few cogs missing beneath the soft and black of its hair.

“Some drops are red. Some you did not intend to die. But most are black, and so you are bad.” It looked up at him, as though for confirmation. “People who kill to achieve a… a selfish goal are evil. Aren’t they?”

Loki of Asgard made another motion with his hands, as though wiping them clean, then snorted at himself and folded them behind his back again. 

He said nothing, but it was still staring at him. Plus, who was he to destroy the moral compass of a being who didn’t see him as king, he thought half-heartedly.

“Yes,” he replied softly, feeling oddly hollow and helpless. “They are evil.”

It observed him for a little while longer, then shrugged its small shoulders. “You will wash it off in years to come.”

Loki felt a pang of… something, in his chest. Something hopeful. “Really.”

“Really.” It nodded. “People pay with bad deeds with pain. That’s what Uncle said once, to Mister Anderson.”

It sighed, then looked back up at him from the daisies they were standing on, pity in its eyes. “I’m sorry you will get hurt.”

Loki would have perhaps felt his temper spike violently again, transforming from his restlessness at this statement, but it was quelled by the action of the child taking hold of his fingers.

“Don’t look so angry,” Henrietta Knott whispered. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Loki looked down at their hands. Hers was small and pink and very soft, as she held his pale forefinger and thumb, hard and toughened with scars in comparison. Something tugged at his heart; he sighed, then moved his hand so that it held hers. It felt good. Good and strange, because Henrietta looked astonishingly content with him doing so. 

Loki���s hands were renowned for doing great and terrible things - wielding daggers, casting spells, being tools which expertly aided him with his ploys and weaving his lies - but using them to guide and reassure was certainly not one of them.

“I don’t want to get hurt either,” he admitted, again, more to himself than to the small thing pressed to his right leg.

“I know,” she replied, then looked up at him. “Can you take me home?”

Loki, the being with no conscience and a black soul raised an eyebrow at this proposal. “Do you really want me to hold your hand all the way?” he mocked. “Don’t you fear the black blood dripping on your pretty little coat and fingers?”

She laughed at him, as though he had said something particularly funny. She had a rich, gurgling laugh that even his bitterness and black ice had some trouble withstanding. 

“Oh, you are silly.”

Loki frowned. Silly didn’t belong to his repertoire of things he would like to be called, especially not by beings who could barely talk. “I beg your pardon?”

“My fingers won’t be dirty.” She smiled. “I haven’t hurt anybody.”

“Not yet,” he said through gritted teeth. “Just wait until you’re older.”

Henrietta looked up at him and stopped laughing, looking too solemn for her age as her grey eyes widened. “Will I hurt people when I’m older?” 

Loki had absolutely no idea. For a moment, he thought about toying with her as she had unwittingly done with his feelings since he’d met her, but he was holding her hand, it was delicate and soft like a chick  and he’d be damned if anything happened to it while he was around.

“Oh, don’t worry. Everybody does,” he said as a throwaway comment as they started to walk. “In fact, I daresay you will break hearts like dinner plates when a table is turned over, with those eyes of yours.”

“Oh.”

She seemed crestfallen. Loki observed her with raised eyebrows as she sighed then as she said, “Then I will never grow up.”

A corner of his lips twitched. “No?” 

“No,” she replied. “You know, in this book there was a boy who never grew up. He could fly. He flew to listen to this really nice girl read stories to her brothers about him, then flew back to his magical home in a land that was quite far away.”

“Indeed?”

“M-hm,” she hummed, stepping alongside him through the trees. “I won’t grow up either. A lot of grown-ups aren’t nice. So I will stay like this, hopefully. And won’t grow up.”

Loki bowed his head, wishing for a moment that he didn’t grow up either. 

“Don’t,” he said softly, then fell silent as she did. 

It was autumn, October. Leaves had fallen off the trees, jumping to their death and lay piled around them, skittering across the rich grass and carpeting the dirt paths. Though it was night, it was still pleasant enough for the creature beside him not to shiver. Loki didn’t shiver; he was an accursed jotun.

They hadn’t walked very far when Henrietta stopped.

“Oh, look!”

“What is it?” he snapped, for he had just begun to sink into dark thought and she’d disturbed his wallowing for the third time in the space of fifteen minutes.

“Floating leaves.” She bent over to look at whatever it was she was fascinated with. “There’s a puddle under there.”

“So-?”

Before he could pull her on, she slid her hand out of his and jumped straight into this puddle, splashing, squealing with laughter. Loki watched flabbergasted, trying to understand how jumping in a pooling of downpour and getting her clothes wet was a form of amusement, before the muddy water landed a few inches short of his shoes. He took an instant step back. 

“What are you doing?!” He pulled her away from the water. “You crazy being. Ah, you-!”

She had kicked the puddle and stained the bottom of his pants with mud. He gave a disdainful scowl, dried them with a flash of green light, then glared down at her. 

“Right! That’s it. I’m leaving you to the wolves. You can go and find your uncle and if you get consumed as a form of light supper, it serves you right.”

He finished scowling, then raised his hands in question, because she was staring at him in awe.

“What was that?!” she cried, stamping in delight. “Do that again!”

His brows furrowed. “Do what?”

She clapped her hands and made a sound like a mute frog being trod on, miming an explosion with her hands.  “This!”

He frowned, then realised. 

“Oh.” He snapped his fingers. “This?”

Zing. The green light danced up and down his form, lighting up the darkness with brilliance, and lifted his hair a little. Henrietta Knott jumped up and down, clapping, stamping, looking completely delighted, her little teeth glinting.

“Again! Again! Again!”

“Have you never seen magic before?” he asked incredulously, his heart thumping strangely, almost afraid of the amazement he saw in her eyes. “It’s not a rare sight.”

She gasped. “Was that magic?” 

“What else would it be?” he said, then outstretched a hand and flashes of light sparked on its surface. “It is magic. My magic.”

“It's…!” She searched for words, pressing her little hands to her face in exaltation. “It’s magnificent!”

And then Loki laughed, straight from the bottom of his heart, something swelling his lungs so that he actually felt as though he was breathing, his mouth stretched so wide it made his face ache. She thought he was magnificent! She thought he was great! Loki wasn’t a madman! He was being complimented! Within moments, he had cast away all of his kingly dignity. He crouched down, disappeared with emerald flashes, reappeared in different places with a bang whilst Henrietta Knott turned round and round with feverish pleasure, squealing, gasping, clapping accordingly.

“Got you,” he hissed as he appeared behind her, apparently an evil wizard. “Found you! Now, I will cart you off to prison, to my jail. You will never be able to get out-!”

He made the mistake of crouching down when appearing. Henrietta gave a delighted yell of excitement and threw herself into his arms. They toppled over onto a pile of leaves, destroying it. Loki landed on his back, slightly winded.

“No,” he gasped when he got his breath back, remembering what function he currently fulfilled. “None of that. Get off me.”

But she didn’t. She climbed right on top of him and sat down on his chest, patting his face.

“You won’t lock me into prison now,” she chuckled. “I’m a dragon. I’ve got you instead.”

He looked up at this improbable dragon sitting on his chest and lowered his hands. He didn’t remember the last time he could speak this level of nonsense without having to watch eyes being rolled.

“No, you’re not.” He sighed, folding his hands on top of his stomach, then looked at her with almost fond resignation. “You’re a silly little girl, sitting on top of the god of mischief because he allowed you to do so.”

He pulled a face, raising his eyebrows for emphasis. 

“As soon as I am up, I will lock you into a-” he disappeared in a green flash and reappeared behind her, scooping her up, “-dungeon. And no prince, king, nor warrior will ever be able to… to… to rescue…”

He froze, because Henrietta Knott threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tight, still giggling. She didn’t move from that position, nuzzling into the soft of his robes beneath his armour, wriggling to get comfortable against him.

Loki had to swallow several times as he stood there dumbfounded, thoroughly convinced he was sick, because why in all nine realms did he have tears in his eyes? He was a trickster, he wielded daggers, he sowed chaos for his own amusement, he cut off heads and stabbed and slashed and killed. His heart was hard and dead, and yet it hurt, hurt as the small thing plastered to his chest and neck embraced him as though he was a hero.

“No, little girl,” he murmured, when he recollected himself. “Little girls do not hug evil men with… dripping hands and…”

He searched for words. “And horrible souls behind the eye.”

She looked at him, beamed, then kissed him on the cheek.

“I like you, Loki of Asgard.”

Loki abandoned reason. “Oh, hush,” he muttered, his voice cracking, then hugged her back carefully, smoothing her hair as she rested her little head on his shoulder.

He resumed the walk, placing each foot slowly and deftly so that he wouldn’t stumble, so that her yawns would quieten. Within moments, her breathing had regulated and she was completely still.

Loki was glad; sleeping prevented her from seeing the two trails his tears left behind upon his face. If she felt his chest moving up and down from quiet sobs, sobs which had been caged in his chest for years without him knowing, he didn’t know.

“You like me. You like me, do you?” he breathed, when he had walked a few minutes, feeling his soul through that small weight on his chest and shoulder. “A very unwise decision. A very foolish one, sweetheart.”

She stirred in her sleep, mumbling. Loki could have sworn it was a protest, and he smiled, sniffing and swallowing back the lump in his throat.

“If you say so, Henrietta Knott” he whispered, patting her back gently. “Whatever makes you happy.”

Five steps later, he paused and listened, frowning. A voice had echoed through the park. It was a male voice, a cry. Loki knew what a desperate cry sounded like, and that was what he had heard. 

It came again. “Hattie! Oh, Odin… Henrietta!”

Loki didn’t want to shout, for that meant Hattie would wake up, but the cries came again, desperation came again, and so he stopped and replied.

“Here!” he called, feeling the pet stiffen on his shoulder as he startled her awake. “I have her!”

The voice stopped, then sounded again, though with less dismay and lined with hope. “Where?! Where?!”

Loki thought, then snapped his fingers. “The green light!”

The man to whom the voice belonged rushed into the clearing when the green stream of light cleared. He was tall, well built, his arms and chest the ones of a warrior, grey hair hung to his chin and a wild beard was braided down his loosely-clad chest.

“Oh, thank Odin!” he cried, then approached him with haste. “Thank you, Sir, thank you!”

He pulled up short the same moment Henrietta turned and slid out of Loki’s arms, close enough for his features to be observed. His nose was hooked and an intricate, crimson tattoo snaked from his cheek to the left of his forehead.

“My lord,” he managed to utter, before Hattie plastered herself to him with joyful cries of, “Uncle, Uncle!”

“Uncle indeed,” Loki said coldly, sadly realising his arms felt strangely empty. “What uncle forsakes their five-year-old niece at a time like this? In a place like this? Do you realise what could have happened to her, lest she had not come across me?”

He felt his hands clenching, though by all rights he shouldn’t have cared at all. “I hear this happens again, and I’ll personally ensure you’re skewered!”

The man dropped to one knee and bowed his head, though he did not seem afraid. 

“Forgive me, my lord,” he said, then looked up and picked up Henrietta. “Thank Odin she was with you. I thank you for your efforts in delivering her to me. I fear to think what would have happened if you hadn’t found her.”

Loki scoured the man with his gaze, then he nodded in recognition. “It’s you,” he said. “Dauneren Haldanson.”

He gave a single chuckle, watching Henrietta as she slid from his arms and yawned sleepily.

“The banished. The foul. The traitor.”

The man bowed his head again, though he didn’t take his eyes off Hattie as she began to explore the vicinity. “The one who led the jotuns into Asgard, two-hundred years ago.” He smiled sadly. “My word remains the same. I had nothing to do with the incident. The assassination was pulled off as though I had a hand in it, but… well. I didn’t have a hand in it, not that time.”

His eyes flicked to him. “You know as the god of lies, my lord, that I am speaking the truth.”

“You wouldn’t be speaking so freely if you were not,” he replied, glad his tears had dried off and he wasn’t red in the face any longer, then smiled. “But, as they say… who lives by the sword, dies by the sword. Or at least faces torture by sharp objects.”

Haldanson grimaced. “It is so. You make a lot of enemies as an assassin, as unlikely as it may seem.”

“Hah,” Loki laughed, then trained his gaze on Hattie, who had run off to jump in another puddle of water. Haldanson followed his gaze and chuckled.

“I do apologise for any strange things she may have told you, my lord. She is gifted with talents many would kill to possess, but… you know, being only five, she has little idea about tact.”

They watched her, these two treacherous men both fully capable of murder, as Hattie squealed in the puddles, ran up to a tree in which curious squirrels observed her, the creatures probably wondering whether they had found a lost brethren in the dead of night.

“You can imagine what a fright she has given some people, my liege, recounting their darkest sins before their very eyes.” Haldanson scratched his beard and chuckled. “You know, she asks me about mine at least five times daily.”

Loki gave him half a smile. “Must be an interesting life.”

“Oh, very much so. Quite an ordeal. You can’t reason with her, she simply knows better than you.”

Loki felt an odd sort of pride at that statement, even though he had only known this little girl for about half an hour. Haldanson called Hattie over when she attempted to climb the tree to tame the squirrel - she pouted but came, seeing her attempt was futile, then took Haldanson’s hand. Loki wondered whether she could see any black on his hands, as Haldanson was no angel.

“I can,” she replied, making him start. “But Uncle’s hands are less black than yours. He’s already paid. Almost paid. His don’t drip anymore, but yours do.”

Haldanson frowned and looked slightly uncomfortable, but Loki raised his eyebrows and grinned, impressed.

“She can read thoughts?”

“Only if she wants to.” Haldanson scratched his beard again. “I reckon she’ll stop wanting when she grows a little older and begins to understand some of the things she sees. She needs to learn control. The hardest one there is… Don’t you, Hattie?”

Hattie nodded sweetly, twirling around in her yellow boots and pink, fluffy coat, looking at Loki with round, grey eyes.

“Will you walk me to school tomorrow, Loki of Asgard?”

Haldanson spluttered at her outrightness, astonished. 

“Now, Hattie,” he managed after a few seconds, “the prince of Asgard is very busy and has much more important things to do than walking little girls to school.”

Hattie pursed her lips. “Loki is the king of Asgard, Uncle.”

Haldanson looked perplexed, glanced at Loki, who looked back coolly, then when he gave no countering statement, his eyes widened and he bowed a little frantically with a hand on his breast.

“Well, I had no idea,” he managed. “Last time I was in Asgard you were a prince, my Lord-”

“But can he walk me to school?” Henrietta tugged on her uncle’s sleeve impatiently. “I don’t like Doris, she smells of cat and doesn’t like me, and you’re always very busy, uncle, and-”

“It’s alright,” Loki said, looking down at her with a smile - so many smiles in such a short space of time which weren’t a mask, an admirable record. “I will consider.”

“Oh, fantastic!” Hattie laughed and clapped her hands and beamed at him, making his chest swell and want to scoop her up and press her to his chest again. “I would love to look at your sparks again!”

Loki laughed and shook his head. “And I thought she was a simple mortal creature.”

“She is from Asgard, like you, my king,” Haldanson bowed his head, still looking slightly nervous. “And far too sure of herself for her own safety. Well. We’ll be off home. It’s getting late. It was an honour to meet you, my lord.”

Loki inclined his head as Haldanson bowed, then raised a finger as he urged Hattie to do the same.

“No,” he said, motioning for her to stand. “She doesn’t need to bow to me.”

Hattie laughed as Haldanson nodded weakly, then she sprang forward and clasped him. 

“Goodbye, Loki of Asgard. I can’t wait to see you again.”

“I will come,” he promised, bending down. “If not tomorrow, then after that.”

He wouldn’t need to be told twice. Not even once. Not when she was staring up at him as though she was really glad to see him, as though he had the power to turn her day into something bright and warm with his cold, jotun hands which could only destroy and consume.

“Good,” she said, then reached up to hold his cheeks. “Good, good, good.”

He gently took her hands away before he had any strange spells again, swallowing. “Off you go, now.”

“Okay.” She patted his cheek, then flew back to her uncle and grabbed his hand. Haldanson nodded in reply to Loki’s look, bowed again for good measure, then picked Hattie up and turned.

Loki watched them disappear into the dark, raising a hand in farewell when Henrietta waved at him.

He stood there long in the dark, looking up at the sky.

Your hands are black. It’s blood. Of the people you’ve hurt.

Loki lifted his hands up to his face, squinting, but of course, he couldn’t see anything amiss. There were quite a few white scars running over his flesh from battle and feuds, but other than that they were as pale and slender as ever.

“Don’t be a fool,” he muttered, letting them drop. “It’s just a childish fancy.”

This childish fancy, however, left an impact upon him that only the next few years could tear from his soul, because it was only when Loki was back in Asgard, in his own empty, royal chambers did he realise that he was clutching the material of his clothes just above his heart, where Henrietta had slept, with a strange obstinacy and longing.

He sank down onto his bed with a sigh, trying to remember what it had felt like to hold someone who trusted him and… liked him. Not because they had to, but because they chose to.

But he was in too deep. He had set things in motion with Thor’s banishment to Midgard which he couldn’t undo, and had to give up hoping for warmth and succumb back to the cold he couldn’t survive without.

And he knew not that in a span of time insignificant to someone of his lifespan, he would become a traitor, that he would fall of Bifrost bridge upon realising that there was no place for him in Asgard, running from shame and Odin’s - his once-father’s - indifferent face, who watched him fall without blinking. That he would become unrecognisably twisted, that he would suffer agony beyond his imagination, that he would lose the trust of the one being who he treasured beyond all.

Though, what happened following that was something he wouldn’t have expected from any pages fate had written for him and if you asked him, he would have looked you in the eyes and solemnly replied that he was undeserving of a moment of it.

~~~*~*~*~~~

That's the first chapter! As always, feedback is appreciated!

[windrsr]

what would each yandere do if their darling managed to escape???

Tw: guilt tripping on Aaron and Samuel's part.

(Male Yandere OCs x Gender Neutral Reader)

•Henry - Okay, he completely loses his shit. He thinks he should have killed you and turned you into a doll at the very start. He doesn't know why he choose to wait for so long. How could the most perfect being of his life escape from him like that? He wanted to keep you for a life time..until you couldn't take it anymore, but not to a point where you escape from him.

•Micheal - He doesn't break a sweat or worry. He put a tracking device on you, so he can always know where you are. You're going to get the punishment of your life when he eventually catches you.

•Miru - He cries, endlessly. He hugs his stuffie for comfort, pretending that it's you. He feels hopeless, incapable of being on his own. He wishes you would come back.

•Loki - He always knows where you are. Right when you think you're safe, he's standing behind you, and takes you to his relam, where you will never be able to escape from him again.

•Aaron - He's pissed off (and saying that is even an understatement). He thinks you're just a horrible, ungrateful friend. He threatens your friends and people around him to tell him where you've been, or they will face consequences. He won't stop until he finds you. Hell, he would even come to your house if he has to.

•Ryan - He panics; the first thing that comes to mind is that you've been kidnapped by someone. He's worried about your safety and well-being. He immediately runs outside and calls for your name, trying to find you. He tries calling you, but you blocked him. Ryan feels so stupid and irresponsible; it was his job to protect and look after you, and he couldn't even do that.

•Samuel - He's completely hurt broken and he feels betrayed. He feels like you threw away all of his "love" and care he that he gave you, and he feels like all his hard work was all for nothing. He looks for you everywhere, and he's determined to find you again.

•Tyler - It's also easy for him to track you down and find you. While he's doing so, he's really worried. Since his enemies know about your existence and how they're after you, he wastes no time trying to get you back.

[beefromanoff]

Project Mockingbird Ch. 19

summary: Bucky and Char are assigned to an undercover mission.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

author's note: so much angst, so much happy, so many feels. UGH. l hope you enjoy! this chapter was originally going to be twice as long, but I decided to break it into two parts so I could upload this week. thanks for reading, ilysm! let me know what you think!

tag list: @bangtanxberm @scott-loki-barnes @kayhi808 @charmedbysarge

(let me know if you want to be added <3)

chapter list

_______________

The training room was dead quiet. 

A far cry from its usual self, with the clang of weights and movement and the occasional grunt. Now, there was just the silence, heavy and thick. Bucky and I sat on the cold floor, our breaths the only sound, his shaky and mind shallow. I hardly moved, save for the hand idly stroking his hair. The strands that had once been damp with sweat had since dried, a slight curl to them now. Hours had passed, though I barely noticed until the clock on the wall showed it was rapidly approaching midnight. My foot had nearly gone numb from the awkward angle my leg was bent underneath me. Despite the discomfort, I didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to disturb Bucky now that his sobs had given way to these quiet, shuddering breaths. Especially since the alternative would be to march him back through the compound, through people who would see him and ask questions and wonder. So I kept still. I waited for the world to go to sleep. I kept my hand moving against his hair, his cheek. I felt my foot prickle and go numb. Another hour passed.

Eventually, I nudged him gently, not entirely sure if he was awake or asleep. "Let's get you up," I murmured, more to fill the silence than anything else. He moved like a robot, his eyes not really seeing, staring off into some distance I couldn’t reach. I kept a hand on his back as I tugged him to his feet. He obliged, thankfully. I knew I could carry him, but this journey would be a lot simpler with him walking under his own volition. 

We walked slowly across the gym, out into the cool night air. There wasn’t a soul to be found. I knew there were night agents scattered at their posts around the compound, but I prayed they’d mind their business tonight. We trudged down the path, Bucky’s eyes still clouded and distant, my hands holding tightly to his left arm. We got to our building, into the elevator, and eventually out the doors to our residential floor, where our friends had long since gone to sleep. A single lamp had been left on in the living area, I noticed. Probably Steve or Natasha’s doing. I had a feeling if I looked in the fridge, I’d find two plates set aside for us as well. Unfortunately, I hadn’t had much of an appetite since finding Bucky’s file. God, that felt like a lifetime ago. We crossed the living room to his door, his silence weighing down on me. It was a heavy kind of quiet, filled with the echoes of the horrors those files had dragged back into the light. I turned the knob and let us into his room. I’d never crossed the threshold before, but I’d be lying if I said I never wondered what it was like. The space was clean, simple, but I didn’t allow myself to look around. Now wasn’t the time to see if I’d been right in my assumptions. I’d be nosy on some future visit, maybe when he actually invited me in. For now, I was doing what he needed. Or at least, what I would have needed if it had been my file we stumbled upon.

He stood numbly in the center of the room, still clad in his training clothes. Slowly, tenderly, I lifted his shirt over his head. I removed his clothing piece by piece, trying not to spook him. It felt important, being allowed to do this, like I was being trusted with something fragile. Under any other circumstances, having him stripped down to his underwear in front of me would have my cheeks bright red and my skin on fire…but not now. My heart ached for him. I wished I could follow that blank stare to whatever nightmare he was back in, just so I could fight it off and bring him back to me, back to this moment. Somehow it was even more unnerving to see someone so strong, so stoic, like this. He was raw and exposed and vulnerable, standing here, nearly naked in his room. I’d seen him shirtless before, but not this close. His body was defined, he looked like he was carved from stone. I lifted my hands to his chest, my fingers brushing over the ridge of scar tissue where his vibranium arm had been fused to his body. The skin was red, jagged, angry. Like they’d haphazardly put him back together. I wondered if it still hurt him. Hot tears stung my eyes as I fought back thoughts of what he’d seen, survived. I tore myself back to the moment, pushing my white-hot rage aside for the moment. 

Gently, I pushed him to sit on the edge of his bed, kneeling before him. His head hung, his eyes fixed on the floor. One by one, I put his shoes on my lap, undoing the laces and slipping them off. “I’ll be right back.” I promised, unsure if he could even hear me, wherever he’d gone in his mind.

I got the shower running, making sure it was nice and warm, before stepping back out. Looping my arm through his, I pulled him to his feet, ushering him into the already steamy bathroom. I debated whether to give him some privacy or stay, and once again –– his unseeing look kept me rooted to his side. Gently, I slid my fingertips inside the waistband of his boxers and tugged them down his legs. Thankfully, these luxurious bathrooms we each had in our rooms didn’t have shower doors, you simply walked in. Yet another feature that reminded me of my stint in Las Vegas.

I gently nudged his back, muscles taut and tense as he stepped into the stream of water. “This should help,” I murmured as it soaked his hair, running down his chest. The room had completely filled up with steam, making everything else seem even further away. Slowly, I washed his hair, taking my time and making sure the sweat and the trauma and the nightmare of a day all washed down the drain. When I was finished, I turned the water off and towel dried his hair, wiping the droplets off of his body. I kept my eyes to myself as much as possible as I worked. I didn’t exist as someone he knew, someone he’d almost kissed. I didn’t exist as someone with feelings for him or someone who hoped he felt the same way. In this moment, I existed only to keep his demons from swallowing him whole.

After finding a clean t-shirt and fresh pair of boxers and coaxing him back onto his bed, I looked over him one more time. He was massive, his muscled back showing through his shirt, nearly as tall as I was standing up while he was seated. Yet, he looked so small. 

Fuck. I hated HYDRA for what they’d done to him. For the horrors he’d seen and been forced to relive. For the monster he believed himself to be. For the brutality he’d been forced to live and now live with. For how small and fragile he looked in front of me right now. I leaned forward, my hand brushing his cheek as I pressed a gentle kiss to his brow. I prayed he didn’t see the tight fist my other hand was clenched into, tight with rage and a promise to the empire I would personally bring down.

“Goodnight, Buck. I’m only a few doors down. Call me if you need anything.”

A hand gripped my wrist as I turned to leave. Looking over my shoulder, his blue eyes met mine for the first time all night. 

“Will you stay?” His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. I hated the shame that flooded his eyes, that knit his brow together. This was the second time in twelve hours he’d asked me not to leave him. Whatever remained of my frozen heart melted into nothingness. Crawling onto his bed, I touched his cheek again. 

“Of course,” I breathed. “I’m not going anywhere.”

_________

Two weeks later

The room was bristling with a focused energy, screens aglow and papers shuffling as Maria Hill stood at the front, flicking through slides on the projector. The usual suspects—Steve, Natasha, Tony, Charlotte, and Bucky—were scattered around the table.

Maria’s voice was crisp as she addressed them. “The sale of stolen Stark Industries tech is scheduled to occur at the Sanctuary Resort this weekend. The mission is simple, to head off the sale, obtain evidence of the transaction, and retrieve the tech. We aren’t anticipating a need for violent intervention.”

Charlotte leaned back in her chair, raising an eyebrow. “I’m honestly surprised, Tony, that your tech doesn’t have a self-destruct feature.”

“He saves the self-destruction for himself.” Nat winked.

Tony smirked, glancing over at her. “It does have a self-destruct feature, actually. And this one happens to have an audio transmitting feature, which is how we know exactly where they’ll be. But rather than just disarm the tech and render it useless, I thought we’d add a little flare. I want to publicly humiliate these clowns by having the sale busted wide open. I want the good name of Hammer Industries to be besmirched beyond salvation.”

Steve and Bucky locked eyes as Steve raised an eyebrow and mouthed ‘besmirched?’ Furrowing her brow, Charlotte leaned forward onto her elbows. “Let me get this straight.” She pointed at Tony. “You installed safeguards against this very situation in the tech in question. However, rather than use the safeguard for the exact reason it was created, you’d rather use SHIELD time and resources and deploy a team of the most powerful and deadly individuals on the planet to go and do that for you? All for the sake of embarrassing your competitor?”

Tony paused, pretending to think. “Yeah, that about sums it up.” 

Charlotte rolled her eyes, chuckling with the rest of the group. 

“As the primary benefactor of both SHIELD and the Avengers,” Tony continued. “Well, and all of you personally. For the most part, not talking to you, Moneybags,” he winked at Charlotte. “I feel entitled to using these resources for personal gain every now and again.” 

Maria continued, ignoring him, as usual. “We need two of you to go undercover at the resort to ensure the tech is secured and the buyers and sellers are apprehended. This is delicate; we can't just storm in or we risk them aborting the mission entirely.”

Steve looked over at Bucky, then at Charlotte. “I think Charlotte should go,” he said quickly. “She needs more field experience.”

Natasha nodded in agreement. “And Bucky’s great undercover. His poker face is unparalleled. Plus,” She shrugged. “Steve and I are too recognizable.”

Charlotte shot them both a narrow look, catching the hint of a setup, but she stayed silent, waiting to see how Bucky would react. He simply raised his eyebrows and looked at Maria, waiting for instructions. Her stomach turned. Things around them had been…fine. Suspiciously so. After the night she’d spent with him, they never spoke of it again. She’d woken up to a mug of coffee on the nightstand and a note that simply read, ‘thank you.’ Sensing he didn’t want to talk about it, she followed his lead. Now, two weeks later, they’d simply gone back to their normal shit-talking, borderline flirtatious dynamic.

Maria looked between them. “Alright. Bucky, Charlotte, you’re on this. I’ll arrange for you to stay at a safe house nearby.”

Natasha quickly chimed in, “Actually, Maria, I was thinking we should book them a suite at the resort itself. It’s crucial they stay close, maintain a visual on the targets at all times. A successful mission could depend on proximity and their ability to act quickly, so having them on property would be prudent.”

Maria raised an eyebrow but nodded. “Very well, that makes sense. I’ll make the arrangements.”

Tony, gathering his things, couldn’t help but add, “Just remember, the mission is to catch the bad guys, not spa treatments and room service. Keep your eyes on the prize, kids.”

Charlotte chuckled, shaking her head. “No promises, Tony.”

As the others began to disperse, Natasha leaned over to Charlotte, whispering with a conspiratorial grin, “You can thank me later for the suite. Just make sure to keep the noise down, yeah?”

Charlotte rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smirk. “Subtle, Nat. Very subtle.”

_________

I'm running. My heart hammers against my ribcage so fiercely I fear it might break through. The trees are a blur of green and brown, the ground beneath my feet cold and uneven. My breath forms ragged clouds in the air, mingling with the whispered German commands crackling through the earpiece:

“Verfolgen. Töten.” Track. Kill.

I want to rip the earpiece out, scream into the silence of the woods, but my body isn’t mine. It moves with mechanical precision, every step, every breath choreographed by someone else. My hands are steady, too steady for someone supposed to be human.

There’s a figure ahead, darting between the trees. I know nothing about them—age, gender, reasons for being here—only that they are my target. My mission. And like a well-oiled machine, I follow. The chase is methodical, a grotesque dance I’ve performed too many times. The programming is flawless; not once do my steps falter.

But inside, I am screaming.

I'm close now, so close I can hear their panicked breaths, see the mist they exhale. The commands in my ear grow louder, more insistent. 

“Schnell! Erledige es!” Quick! Finish it!

I raise my gun. My hand doesn’t tremble. It should tremble. Why doesn’t it tremble?

“Please,” the figure begs, turning around. Their face is blurry, indistinct, but their eyes are clear, wide with terror. They see me, truly see me, and in their eyes, I’m a monster.

I am a monster.

I squeeze the trigger. The sound is deafening, a brutal punctuation to the nightmare I’m trapped in. The figure falls, and suddenly the woods are silent, oppressively silent. I stand over them, my breaths shallow, the gun heavy in my hand.

The German commands praise me, cold and emotionless. “Gut gemacht.” Well done.

But it’s not well done. It’s horrific. I drop to my knees, the gun slipping from my grasp. I'm shaking, tears streaming down my face, mingled with sweat and dirt. My heart aches, not from the exertion, but from the sheer terror of what I’ve become. What they made me.

And then, suddenly, I'm awake, gasping for air in the darkness of my room, the remnants of the woods and the cold eyes fading into the shadows of my bedroom. My body is slick with sweat, my sheets tangled around my legs as if they too know of my guilt, my horror.

I remember everything. Every command, every mission, every life taken. And it haunts me, every single night.

________

The morning sun was bright, warming the hangar through the open bay doors as Bucky and I deposited our bags at the foot of the Quinjet ramp. Since this mission was in the United States, we didn’t have to leave at the ass crack of dawn like the previous mission, which I much preferred. Our attire was a little different, too. I adjusted the tennis dress I was wearing, a light, neutral thing that seemed more suited for a country club than a mission, but it was perfect for our cover. Bucky, in his turn, looked unexpectedly dashing in casual khaki pants and a crisp white shirt, the very picture of a man ready for a luxurious vacation and escape from his corporate empire. He’d let his facial hair grow out and slicked his hair back, a few slight changes to keep him from being recognized. The watch he wore on his right wrist had been equipped with holographic technology, the same used for the Quinjet when it went into stealth mode. While he wore it, Bucky’s metal hand appeared normal and flesh. 

They’d drawn up a loose picture of who we were supposed to be this weekend –– Mr. and Mrs. Van Damme, a childless couple from Vermont who lived off of his stock market prowess. We’d decided to end tax season with a trip out to Scottsdale, Arizona. Maria had booked the trip over email, posing as Mr. Van Damme’s office secretary and personal assistant. She’d made it clear that privacy and discretion was very important to our stay, making it clear that housekeeping services would not be required at all this weekend. I supposed it wouldn’t bode well for our ‘undercover’ shtick if some poor, unassuming housekeeper walked into our room to see the small arsenal of spyware and handguns that we’d laden our bags with.

Natasha and Steve came striding towards us, their expressions a mask barely-concealed amusement. They stopped, giving us the once-over, nodding approvingly at our transformation. 

“Look at you two,” Natasha teased, her eyes twinkling. “America’s most glamorous power couple.”

Bucky shot her a look, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Don’t start, Nat.”

Steve clapped Bucky on the shoulder, leaning in to whisper something that made Bucky’s eyes widen momentarily before he glanced over at me, his cheeks tinged with pink. I was dying to know what was said, but Natasha grabbed my arm, pulling me a few steps away before I could pry.

“Alright, Char,” she began, her voice low and mischievous, “you’ve got the perfect set up here. Beautiful resort, romantic dinners under the stars… If you’re planning to make a move, I’d say the universe is handing you a golden ticket.”

I felt my face heat up at her insinuation. “Nat, we’re there to work,” I murmured, although a part of me fluttered at the thought.

“Work and play don’t have to be mutually exclusive,” she winked, giving me a gentle shove back towards Bucky.

The agents around us gave a thumbs up, indicating they’d loaded our bags and completed final pre-flight checks. Walking up the ramp, I caught Bucky’s eye. He looked annoyed and slightly embarrassed, likely still processing whatever Steve had told him. I ignored it, focusing on my own jitters. 

“Ready for this?” I asked, my voice steady despite the butterflies rioting in my stomach.

Bucky nodded, his gaze intense. “Always.”

We climbed into the jet, the doors closing behind us with a soft hiss. As the engines roared to life, I settled in the co-pilot's seat next to Bucky, our arms brushing. I tried to ignore the burning on my skin from the contact, twisting the diamond ring on my finger to distract myself. 

“That’ll take some getting used to, huh?” He nodded at my hands before continuing to set us up for flight. 

“Yeah,” I chuckled. “But there are worse aspects to the job.” I held my left hand out and admired the massive stone twinkling in the sunlight. I’d intentionally not asked if the ring was real or fake, not wanting to give myself undue pressure not to lose it. In my mind, like the marriage, this ring was all for show. 

“Yeah, this shouldn’t suck.” He met my eyes and gave a half smile as we lifted off the ground. 

As the Quinjet ascended into the sky, the landscape below shrinking to miniature proportions, I wasn’t sure if the flipping in my gut was from the look or from our departure. Bucky's casual remark about the ring only added to the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me. 

"Personally, I hate sunshine and relaxation," I drawled, attempting to lighten the mood. “Spending a few days in one of the most gorgeous places in the world? Shitty. We should be getting hazard pay for this.”

Bucky chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "I’d agree with the hazard pay if you were flying us," he admitted, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “But I can think of worse ways to spend this week.”

I shot him a playful glare, my heart fluttering at the sight of his smile. "First of all, fuck off," I teased, my voice betraying the nervous flutter in my chest. “Second of all, you don’t strike me as the type to sit by the pool and sip Mai Tais.”

“I prefer margaritas.” His face was stoic.

I paused, still not entirely sure when he was joking. “I…have to agree with you on that one.” 

“I like the warm weather.” He shifted us into autopilot and switched off stealth mode as we soared outside the compound’s shields. “The sun, the breeze. Anything but the cold.” 

A chill ran through me as I flashed back to the snow, the bases in Germany and Siberia. The freezing air on my cheeks, the woods, the bleak gray skies. Shaking my head, I fumbled over my words despite myself. “Yeah, I –– uh…I don’t like it either. I was kidding…before.” 

“I figured.” He shot a half smile and a sidelong look my way. 

As the minutes ticked by, the tension in the air thickened, the weight of our unspoken thoughts hanging between us like a heavy fog. I stole a glance at Bucky, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the control panel, and felt a pang of guilt twist in my chest.

The memory of his breakdown in the training room haunted me, a stark reminder of the darkness lurking beneath our surface level conversations. The only kind we seemed to be able to have these days. I wanted to reach out, to offer him some semblance of comfort, but the words lodged in my throat, suffocated by the weight of my own uncertainty. He knew I was here for him, surely. He’d talk to me when he was ready. If he was ever ready. 

I knew I’d be here either way.

–––––––––

The desert sun dipped below the horizon, casting a fiery glow that lit the expansive balcony of the resort. Bucky and I sat at a secluded table near the edge, our attire blending perfectly with the affluent crowd. I had chosen a sleek black dress that toed the line between classy and slutty, while Bucky was in a dark suit that made him look like stepped out of some mafia movie. His hair was slicked back, making him look every bit the business mogul he was pretending to be.

Our target, a middle-aged man with a cropped hairstyle, nursed a drink at the bar. His casual glances around the room didn't betray his purpose here, but we knew better. We observed him discreetly, taking note of every interaction he had.

A waitress approached, her smile bright. "Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Van Damme. Can I start you off with some champagne?"

"Please," Bucky replied with a charming smile, sliding into his role with ease. He looked at me with a twinkle in his eye, playing the part of the doting husband.

As she walked away, I swirled the stem of the glass in my fingers, the ambiance of the resort making this feel almost too real. "You know," I started, a shy smile playing on my lips, "I've never actually been on a date before. This—even though it's all a cover—is kind of a first for me."

Bucky's expression softened. "Really? Well, I'm honored to be your first. Even if it's just pretend."

I laughed, the sound more nervous than I intended. "It's weird, right? After everything... I mean, how do you even start to think about dating or... connecting with anyone who doesn't know how twisted and fucked up your life has been?" I took a sip of the champagne, feeling it ignite my stomach in the best way. The air had cooled off significantly as the sun sank below the mountains in the distance.

"It's not easy," Bucky admitted, his gaze lingering on the desert view before us. "Feels like nobody could really understand unless they've been through something similar. All that stuff doesn't just go away. It’s not really something you feel like catching someone up on over dinner."

I chuckled, although it really wasn’t funny. "Yeah. In some ways, it’s nice to pretend to be someone else.” I gestured at myself, him, the table between us. “I actually enjoy it. This is what I did for months, back in Vegas. I didn’t feel like I had to explain myself or hide something, I just…became someone else. I changed my hair all the time. It felt safer, the anonymity. The lack of anyone really knowing or caring about me. I wasn’t special…and I think that’s why I loved it so much.”

Bucky gave me a half smile, sipping his champagne before leaning forward. “I hate to tell you this, but I don’t think there’s ever been a moment where you haven’t been special.” His unwavering eye contact was unnerving. My stomach flipped. Lifting my champagne to my lips, I did what I do best –– deflected.

“See, I heard you were quite the ladies' man back in the day, and now I’m starting to believe it." I teased. “For a while, I thought Steve was losing his mind in his old age.”

Bucky chuckled, rolling his eyes as he sat back in his seat. "That was a long time ago, Charlotte. I was a different person then. It all came naturally. Now..." He shrugged, looking away. "I'm far from that guy. Everything now feels like I'm learning it all over again."

“What is it they say…it’s like riding a bike?” I mused. 

“I never learned to ride a bike.” He met my eyes again. 

“Me either.” 

The moment hung between us, filled with unspoken understanding. Our eyes remained locked, and there was a depth to his gaze that made me feel like anything but his coworker.

"It's strange," I looked off across the resort grounds, the incredible scenery, "to be here, after everything. Pretending to be normal –– married, no less. You and I, having dinner like this. It’s a little ironic, no?” 

He laughed, so much so that his eyes crinkled in the corners. “Yeah, it is pretty fucking ironic.” He lifted his half-empty champagne glass. “To irony, and to my wife.” 

I raised mine and grinned as we clinked them together.  “To irony…and to my husband.” 

[blankdblank]

The White Dove Pt 47 - Tesseract Stole My Candy

@devilishminx328​. @theincaprincess​, @lilith15000​, @jesevans​, @jiminapickle

The White Dove Masterlist

...

Agony’s Other amongst the others at the pre-Yule trip back at the holiday dinner smiled as you looked at the card with the steps to a location online. They said, “Skrulls our Others faced off with back in the 80’s found out they had copied the Library of Alexandria and then burned it down to keep control of how humans were evolving. The Skrulls were killed and the Symbiotes hid their library of all the scanned documents. We knew you would appreciate it.”

“Thank you,” you said hugging them. “It’s incredible.”

“Oh don’t think us,” Phage’s Other said. “Mainly transcripts and tedious documents for all we have checked. Very few scintillating finds.”

“Tedious paints a picture all the same.” You said spreading smiles.

.

Rhodey had called once he knew you were in town again. Thankful and flattered by your mention and use of his joke he shared he loved hearing from you. The same conversation he did give warning of the contract changes to come and Stark’s efforts to unload the planes still left to order a new fleet and that the military was planning to gain two new Blackhowls as well.

Pilots were gaining more confidence in handling them and two more were capable of training their own new pilots until they gained confidence as well for their own future craft. Especially in Arctic temperatures they thrived and showed little hassle as normal craft did no matter the weather and those would be used to help in rescue and transport missions there was little that hadn’t been thrown at them they’d seen the other side of scratch free. So there was always growing hope to expand the fleet as more jobs were made safer with them in the lead to get it done.

Money was coming, and the closer you got to your birthday the better as it could finally change everything to grant so much freedom and comfort. Just had to wait a bit longer. Couple more weeks. Just a couple more then a few months after that and there was no logical way to keep you from getting your degree from Midtown and then you could just focus on crunching through your degrees to see if something stuck out for you to chase as a true passion. The more time you snuck on Eldfalls’ sail however you knew that at least somewhere in there that work of ships in some way could be a part of your future, if only to repair him as he aged or his sail would eventually give out.

 .

“Pluto,” a voice that took you a moment to recall with help of your bees turned your head from the egg, pepper and potato scramble you were making. “It’s Doctor Strange, of course congratulations, but I did want to call you as my hospital board is willing to give some of your patient scanners a shot.”

“It’s because,”

“You won a Nobel prize for Medicine, yes,” he cut you off, “But also partly because I have been badgering them non-stop about it every quarterly meeting and review session I could manage to crash. So in part you would be helping to shut me up.”

Softly you giggled making the Doctor grin at the hopeful sign he had accomplished this feat. “How many and how soon would you need them and what style would you want?”

“They come in styles?” He asked and it was your turn to grin.

“Normally I keep them as winged insects, so they can fly around, but I can make them as parrots or small birds if they like.”

“Our hospital logo is a hummingbird, they might like that.”

“I can do that, easy.”

“Quantity, right, they said we can start with 80, to test them out in the ER and ICU, and they will sign a check for $800k upon delivery and demonstration of how they work.”

The sheer number had you a bit stunned and you said, “Alright, I’ll get right on them,” you said beginning to glow and form one over your free mist coated palm, “And let you know when I’m finished, shouldn’t take too long just a week or so.”

“I will let them know and they can ready the press piece for it.”

“Killing the insurance market is really hitting hospitals that hard?”

Lowly he let out a chuckle, “We got patients coming out of the floorboards since it’s affordable. And calls daily about the work your research center is doing on when drugs could be possible. I knew you were gonna be something impossible. Keep up the good work I won’t keep you, enjoy your morning.”

“You too,” you said watching the colorful half palm sized bird begin to fly around and be greeted by your bees that would help to finish the programming to monitor patients properly to hospital standard.

“Oh now these are just downright adorable.” He said with a beaming smile as three of the newly created hummingbird scanners hovered around him while he brought up the tickets he got to surprise you with for a show a bit later.

“Dr Strange pulled through. His hospital wants 80 and their logo has a hummingbird on it. $800k,” you said making him let out a whistle as they projected scans of his body and Venom hiding inside of it. “Almost feels a bit like cheating since I can grow them myself.”

“This is not cheating. These are the wings that will carry on the next round of the medical world revolution.”

With a giggle you said, “Certainly the most adorable revolution I’ve seen.”

“Gonna make some recharging nests too?”

“Yes, I think I can ration four pods in a clump to spare install time.” You said showing him the sketch of the four bubble shaped spiral tiered nest station that could be installed like a sconce he smiled wider at.

“So precious.”

.

“Have the contracts ready for you right here.” Matt said and Foggy helped to pass you the first for Stark. Page by page Matt explained the terms with help of Foggy on a few finer details on your non-Braille copy so you could sign at the numerous flag stickers and date.

The military contract was much larger and had included the details that you would be paid in full for the next go round to do with the funds as you pleased.

Once the contracts were concluded the talk of other mortgage scandal clients filled a small gap while you ignored the press scandal of the latest of the tumor riddled pop star whose male mistress was telling all. While looking far younger than her and her much older boyfriend, a lawyer was called for in her own case as he had shared videos, pictures and messages galore. To prove they had been hot and heavy for years with a baby on the way that she was desperate to not let the world know she was debating on how to handle the so called devastating fiasco for her career due in just under six months.

And of course like the fame seeking habit of a pug faced former model wife of another famous R&B singer had put her foot into the fire to kick off even the least talkative Congressmen to give their stances and stir up plans of a march in Washington. Again a vote and bills were being brought up with the same tumor riddled pop star and her dissolving public reputation linked pregnancy in the center of it.

“Do you have a timeline on when they want the next set of planes?” Matt asked.

“Spring was what they told me they hoped for, hangar isn’t heated that well to have me there. But they might be up to something else and keeping mum on it.”

Matt said, “Well if the base is up North could have more to do with some rail work repairs than that from what I hear.”

“See, secret keeping.” You said making the duo chuckle.

.

Through the doors of the hospital it was a bit comical to some to see the wheelbarrow of the recharging nests and 80 birds all over the rest of the space within the means of transport from the van Eddie helped you to bring them in. All over the press was your face with hummingbird breeds. And for a team of photographers you were filmed atop a folding ladder you used to mount the tiered docks within or near to walls close to the ceiling to not allow them to be bumped by chance to protect them while charging. Throughout the ER and ICU they were assigned and to the numerous members of staff both Doctor and Nurse alike you shared the basic function of the birds that proved to show they could and had linked to the chart system within seconds.

“They each have names,” you said and specifically to a snickering set of Residents, “No matter how ridiculous it might seem to you,” luring the focus of the Doctor heading their training who glared at them, instantly ceasing the amusement, “They are social unlike their biological counterparts, and will require communications regarding patient care. Instruction of scans of certain body parts or even just transfer of scans to another department.”

One patient who had a broken foot agreed to be the guinea pig and watched as the others did the projected scan of the broken bones and pins used to secure them again inside the cast. Though a flight higher notified their surgeon of a blood clot that had the patient hurried off to have that handled before it could be allowed to travel any farther closer to their heart. “There also is a feature of the flock that were a Doctor to simply dismiss any complaint of a patient due to weight issues, something made up for attention, or done out of enhanced anxiety, or that of a ‘woman problem’ or something as frivolous than that Doctor’s file will be flagged for implementing bias and the flock will signal another Doctor to the patient to be treated properly.”

A Doctor scoffed and said, “What if it is a weight issue, like arthritis? Or a women’s issue like a cyst or period cramp?”

“The bias statement will be issued after the scan. And any and all possible harmful issues will be noted within the file upon their visit. Any anxiety flags will send word to the psychology department for a consult as well to be safe and also amongst the other features is one that should someone come in within an abusive relationship, be it parental, domestic or otherwise the police will be notified and the room will be monitored and taped for evidence to support the victim.” You said parting lips. “Doctor and Nurse abuse is far less frequent than other forms in terms of hospital statistics and if that can be remedied at least within these walls the flock will assist all that is possible. And such, should there be a delirious or belligerent or aggressive patient or relative each are able to produce a sedative gas like chloroform to assist in rendering the aggressor immobile long enough to have them contained.”

“How often do you imagine we deal with aggressive patients?” A second Resident chortled making you look their way.

“The gas is for the Nurses’ protection, who take the brunt of it.” You said making May Parker and others amongst the Nurses smile at the additional help for them. “Each of them will learn your names and they have different plumages to aid in learning theirs. Also should you dye your hair, change colored contacts or go through any cosmetic procedures try to keep your staff pictures updated or they will refuse you from the system and not take your verbal commands as they will recognize your appearance as well as your voice.”

“And if we dye our hair a lot?” One of the Doctors asked with pink tips to her hair matching the tips on her nails and earrings.

“Then a thumb print confirmation on their bellies you can request will suffice until you update your file again.” The few other patients who agreed to be scanned both were awed at seeing previous issues they knew of and a few who learned of incoming issues they could turn around now before it was a life threatening level. Check in hand it was off to the bank while you checked on the progress of a legal hurdle you had caught wind of.

.

A big wig had learned where Isaiah Bradley and another 40’s era vigilante now in her own retirement lived, and had bought up their mortgages in a bank takeover that had for sale signs in their yards. Issue was made of a slight against his father decades prior was what you had learned, a KKK member who was claimed to have been brutalized and vanished, except for his head found on a spike put in the front of the burnt building where his charter held meetings.

Through your bank, by means of a more than helpful teller, your hefty investment into the bank at a claim to wish to tear those houses down to build one of your own in the quieter town to have a lab finally had a backed statement of funds for the second bank with control of the mortgages. As Matt was in court Foggy had arrived to assist you in completing the paperwork that by the set of the sun garnered you two property packets to keep track of as well as notice of the deed reprint forms to keep in place of the deeds that could arrive anywhere from six weeks to three months from now.

$800k now after the property values after their latest inspections had fragmented into just under $80k that you would hold in savings and hope another emergency would not kick up until another hospital wanted more of your birds when the first shared how brilliant they were. Right out after a stop for something to grab takeout to Isaiah’s home Eddie drove and split the bags of food to carry with you to the door.

You had seen the expensive car that had driven away and heard Elijah yelling still inside while an unsettling buzzing sound went off next door at Miss Jubilee’s house. All the same you went to the door and rang the bell hearing from inside, “What does that mother fucker want now?!” from Elijah.

And muttered curses from Isaiah who said, “Just, wait here! Don’t do anything foolish and make this fifty times worse! I will not have you rot behind bars like I had to!”

Through the stained glass outer door his eyes fell upon you as you flinched a few fingers off the bag pressed to your chest, “Pluto, Eddie,” opening the glass door you stepped aside to allow him to do so he asked as you flashed a second wave to Elijah who peeked out from his room. “What brings you out here this time of day?”

“Wanted to celebrate, brought some food.”

“Right, your hospital, the birds. Come in.” He said inhaling deeply to keep calm and his own news to himself showing you both in once the doors were closed to the dining room.

“Well not exactly,” you said with a grin his way. Atop the table you left the bags and faced him bringing out the property packets you showed him. “I bought two houses!” Across the one for his he read the address and his jaw dropped.

“Pluto,” he murmured. “This is a $450k house!”

“Very sound investment, only I got a fair discount telling the owner of the other bank I wanted to tear your house and Miss Jubilee’s house down to make a mini mansion of my own a la Vanderbilt style.” You said making his eyes tear up in gratitude, “Could you help me tell her there’s a buzzing sound coming from her place that doesn’t seem right, before she does anything drastic.”

“That’s your money Pluto.” He said stepping closer.

“Hospitals will catch on, and want their own flocks, plus in Spring military wants two more Blackhowls and I got my jobs. Taxes will be a bitch but, worth it to fuck over a white supremacist’s day.”

Tightly he hugged you and stepped back to let Elijah, who had heard and hurried over to join in, claiming more room in a hug all his own. “Let’s go tell Miss Jubilee. We will pay you back, every penny.”

“Well I’d be glad to take a loss either way, I mean I can’t logically move here yet or afford the upkeep so I will be needing some trustworthy people who know the terrain around town to manage the pesky gardens out back,” you joked making him chuckle and wipe his eyes to head outside and next door.

The elderly woman there was just as grateful and overjoyed to calm her uproarious family with the news as you went back to eat after she’d stowed her favored chaos machines she was readying to go wreak havoc on the man Eddie confirmed the Hive would go after once the ink was dry on the deal.

.

“And it will take a week for the sale and the fund transfer to solidify so just be certain to play up the fact I’ll have to evict you all to drag things out. All the hassle for me but after that’s dry it’s paid in full and he can’t do a damn thing about it.”

“Thank you, Pluto.” Isaiah said with a lingering sentimental gaze at the final goodbye of the night.

“You didn’t have to suit up again. You did, for me. Faced Nazis for me. Least I could do, spend a dreary boring afternoon signing paperwork to let you keep your homes. This home needs you.” You said widening his smile. “Not to mention Murdock and Foggy are looking into the other mortgages that bank has and if anything suspicious happens there just might be some legal trouble coming his way he can’t fight off with a paycheck.” Gaining a chuckle from him as you climbed into the van. Unseen in the pull away to them you took the chance to flex your sore hands from the work of the install and the numerous signatures of the hours of paperwork.

.

The purchase of two properties and plans to sell them back soon enough was an intriguing notion to your grandfather and paternal cousins at the welcome back meal upon landing back in Norway for Yule break. Although bedtime was a welcome thing to have you wake up early the next morning to handle the paperwork to help step into the eventual research study of your injections. To see what would be required to get that up and running as the one for degenerative diseases had found its groove and ample funding for now thanks to the medals and public outpouring of support.

.

Lego like internal blocks of the rings you had designed were left in a pile on the coffee table inside the rental with Eldfalls peering on at your work one at a time with tools Yggdrasil had shared the designs of. Low ‘mmhms’ and ‘uh-uhs’ from him answered the proper angles to latch each one into place with fingers extended to nudge the pieces into more ordered lines to help your choice of the next one.

Hours both Eddie and Thengel watched the growth of glowing crystal internal workings inside the halves of rings Eldfalls helped to hold one so you could line them up to bind them together.

Sparks and brilliant shows of light that filled the rental for a few near blinding moments left the house damage free. Only Eldfalls kept it levitating as he nudged you to complete folding the second ring together. That act not just had the second ring light up but the first in shifting prisms of color inside the ring that had the black metal rotate like a double helix revealing green glow in gaps within the rings. Around them your bees scanned for stability proving they both gave off oxygen as you had thought up by the makeup of the internal parts. By means of the pocket calculator sized remote Eldfalls reminded you to make first the glow was shut off as you powered them down.

“Oh those are so cool,” Eddie said when your bees scanned them showing they were not emitting anything making you smile at the successful creation of the rings you now had to learn how to control by means of various tests in the months to come. This was a nice distraction as you were invited to a party at the Palace where the King and Queen hoped to use this as a makeshift coming out party as you would be back in New  York for your 18th birthday. While Thengel shared he had your mother’s tiara, at least for the basic rule to not allow those under 18 to wear them, you were free of that expectation for this party. They hoped to place you in view of more than a few acceptable matches with families who would at least pretend to your face to be glad to link you to their sons if given the chance.

 …

 “You know, he could have just said he wanted to keep the shirt.” You sighed as you folded the poor copy of the flannel Banner had sent to your place as a Christmas present thanking you for loaning it to him. Your Landlord having kept the package safe back at your building until you had returned. This one to your sensitive senses far rougher than the former, with an embroidered octopi inside the back of the collar sporting eight legs instead of the nine you had embroidered into the original that had felt so magically soft when you found it for Eddie. Only to discover it was too small for him enabling him to let you keep it and buy him another to replace it.

“I mean he’s not even stealthy wore the thing to a lecture in India yesterday too.” Eddie said stretching his legs after your long flight back. The hall of his building being painted had brought him to hang out at your place for a bit where he could at least spend some more time with you to if anything plan out something small to do to celebrate your big birthday coming up.

2012 had just kicked off and wading through some wind blown confetti still from the New Years bash people had brought from the big ball drop on their bodies you were back again and moved back to your loom to get the final few inches left of this section completed by your next meal. All the while talking with Eddie who watched your focused efforts adoringly at just how long you had to work on this sizeable sail and even after the weaving was through how much work was left to do to get the water and wind proofing completed.

During your next meal you asked him, “What happens if he won’t hold water?”

And with a smile he said, “One way to find out, let’s hook the trailer up to the bus and go for a dip.” Your smile spread and excitedly when you went to tell him Eldfalls began to hum while you dropped the mast to be able to take the trailer out.

“Whatcha doin?” turned your head when you had stepped back out of the open doors to double check no one was blocking the street like some trucks did for late deliveries to shops nearby.

MJ amongst a group of Ned, Peter and Peter’s uncle Ben asked you spotting the lifejackets and bundles of rope in your bent arm. “Oh, hey, just checking the watertight capabilities of the hull I patched.”

She asked, “You’re going to the ocean, for that? Or, like a test pool?”

“Ocean.” You said lifting the life jackets. “Got some floaties just in case.”

Ned asked, “How likely is it to sink again?”

“Not likely, only about 45% chance.” You said making Ben chuckle.

Off his chest he lifted his camera, “Can we come? Take some fun pictures in exchange?”

“If you like. We have spare floaties and a rubber ducky life raft that can fit seven just in case.” Excitedly they came inside the garage and climbed inside the open van to sit either on the bed or the floor at their choice leaving you and Eddie the front seat.

“Wow, it’s actually a duck.” Peter said eyeing the picture on the clear bag containing the inflatable duck shaped raft amongst the spare life jackets you added from the locker along the wall with some spare folding chairs you put inside Eldfalls’ deck.

“I doubt Eldfalls will sink again, but I plan for chaos, best to be prepared.” To Eddie you said, “Have the pedal motor too just in case, which counters as ice breakers as well, and the paddles, ropes, lifejackets, floaties, ducky raft, crank lanterns, and emergency rations. Plus the safety radio to contact shore and other boats.”

“List is good, called ahead and dock is open to midnight. Won’t take that long but it will be a fun video to shoot.” Closing yourselves in the van Eddie fired it up and started the drive to the nearest dock. Both temperature and gentle snow fall had others far from willing to be on the water right now, backwards on the trailer the ship was eased into the water enough for you to let the others out and help them up onto the deck so that you could be the one to unhook Eldfalls from the trailer. Ankle deep in the water you pushed on the hull to begin guiding him out.

Eddie was quick to park and return to join you in another good push and leap up to grab the hull sides to pull yourselves up to join the others. “Okay, let’s get you a good bit off the shore line, then we can try the controls.” Paddles were taken for a surprisingly amused group task of rowing the large ship through the near freezing waters. Those were set aside when the feel of the current changed. Ben from a few angles began to snap some pictures of both people inside and the view only to turn his head at the gentle hum of the engine as your hand came to rest upon the rudder control.

Like the notes inside the book Beserkers supplied for you said ever so slightly the grip was rotated and the wings on either side had the teens and Eddie chuckle in awe at their sudden jolt to flap like hummingbird wings. While meant to fly all the same at a tolerable chug along to get the hang of the grip control and some steering to maneuver around a few small waves like propellers the wings moved Eldfalls along.

“Hey!” the Human Torch overhead looped around and gave you a wave. “Looking good Pluto. Finish that sail yet?”

“Not yet,” you called back. “Water test.”

“Looks good, love the wings. Getting colder though. Don’t stay out too long.”

“We won’t,” you answered and he waved for the teens snapping pictures of him before his jet off to check on something for Reed.

A good distance from shore Eddie helped you to lift the mast so you could adorably to Ben’s amusement wiggle around the side of the opening to drop into the hull. “Any sign of water?” Eddie asked from above keeping eye on the waves in case any changed too drastically.

Around where the hole once was you went with lantern in hand filming by means of a bee in your hair the hull and not the engine so Eldfalls wouldn’t power down on you. “Not by the patch. Bit from the deck off the wings looks like.” Scans from your bees confirmed not even a tiny slow leak was being obscured from your notice and back up you leapt to pull back up so the mast could be lowered again. A sudden shift of the wind had the ship lean to the side urging the group to move to the other side out of fear to help balance the weight and tilt it back. Though when the mast was down the ship evened out forcing them to let out a collective breath.

“Feels like the wind is shifting. Best to head back in, water will start to still and freeze soon.” Near to an hour was all this trip took, by the time you turned around and got the ship pushed back onto the trailer and secured, so the cold teens could get back in the warming van to heat up again. They got to ride on a real life alien ship even if it was freezing outside so their joy was beyond compare. Same as Eldfalls who got his first run in the water which out in Norway was near to impossible as most of the waters were already frozen over and ferries took heavy motors to break ice obscuring their usual paths. At their homes they were dropped off so you could take the trailer back and order a dinner in.

Curiosity however won out and filmed by your bees a spare cracked mug you had was tossed through one of the powered up transporter rings only to shatter against the wall the beam that shot out the second was aimed at causing you and Eddie to both flinch. “Oh, that was fast.” He said and powering them down you gave it a try to adjust the settings off your notes and listened as he planned a trip to the second hand shop to buy some spare mugs the following day to continue the experiment you documented inside a new blank notebook marked for the process of making them work.

 *.*.*

 “This Brock again. He’s like her own personal reporter. Might as well have a gossip column on the life of this kid for the Bugle.” Tony muttered to himself over the morning paper he had been using in a means to put off the inevitable task of the day to check the progress of the sales of the final few of the first fleet to help said kid gain some financial momentum.

Jarvis chimed in, “The Bugle is quite favorable on mentioning locals who are accomplished. Statistically comments online have shown a favorable amount of pride for Miss Pear.”

“Don’t doubt that, just hard to bring her anywhere close without hope of this Brock guy snagging a scoop on it. Even has at least twenty in depth interviews with Misique since she got here. Not one mentioning she was a teen. Guy’s up to something skewing things to how he wants readers to see things.”

“Sir, most reporters share that technique.”

“I get that. But he’s got a stake in this.”

“He could always care for her earnestly, Sir.”

“Barely got a slam dunk in his writing career until he first talked to Misique. No way that’s just in earnest. I know reporters and they always have an angle to chase.”

 *.*.*

 “Where’d it go?” you asked yourself as a second mug simply vanished instead of landing on top of the cushioning pile of blankets and pillows to catch the mug’s fall as well as the candies you had put inside.

Curiously you made note of the vanished mug and eyed the duo of hovering rings you collected a second mug from the basket of experimental dummies to toss at one that shot right out the second. “Curious.” You muttered and made note of the early morning experiment while you readied for the first day back at school.

 *.*.*

 “You will not fail me, or I will kill them all.” The words jolted Loki out of his latest nightmare to wide eyed stare with darkly circled lids and a pale complexion almost glistening due to the beads of sweat stirred from his latest reminder of what Thanos’ crony had done to him to make him obedient. Awoken laid atop a lounge inside his private vault of a bedchamber none could enter. Here he kept the Tesseract with him, in case of another inexplicable theft as with Clint.

Familiar light similar to that of the Bifrost shone above his body to drop a mug his hand rose to grab mid air. Curiously his head tilted at the ghost shaped thing inside which ringing collisions of candies came to an end causing the lights to vanish.

Onto his side he rolled to not have to sit up so he could peer inside the mug to see the chocolate covered raisins. Between two fingers he lifted one that he simply shrugged mentally and popped it into his mouth. “Mmm, delicious,” chewing simply so he could swallow and pop another into his mouth to savor the gift he attributed to the Norns as he had no clue of who else to thank for the delectable treat that reminded him of home so far from here by means of his most treasured childhood treat.

The mug was set aside and still exhausted now with images of his mother in his head he allowed himself to sleep again in hopes of her memory to chase away his monsters he battled night and day.

 *.*.*

 “I’ve checked the settings three times, this is four mugs and about half a bag of candy now Elliot.” You said on the phone with your hopeful helping hand to right this issue having called him after school when at Eddie’s for dinner.

“Perhaps there is interference.”

“What could possibly interfere with this? Like radio waves?”

“No, it would have to be another gateway.” He said making you huff.

“All I’m hearing is me having to jump through it myself to fix this problem.”

“Unfortunately.” Elliot said making you plop to the side on your mama panda bear chair to cover your face with your hand.

“Of course. One way ticket to get stabbed or shot at, though this time alien tech level combat mode.”

“I’ll go with you,” Eddie said.

But Elliot cut him off, “Oh no, best not to risk you two being sent to different places until the matter is fixed.”

“And what if the other person doesn’t want to turn off their portal?”

“Well, then we will have to evaluate the necessity for their portal and perhaps take it by force.” He said making you grumble into your palm.

“I’m not going to wage war so I can have the only portal on this planet.”

“The interference claims otherwise. You haven’t received anything yet, have you?”

“No, just someone keeps taking my mugs, candy without sending them back.”

“Hmm, perhaps then the other party is unaware of the portal and shall make the matter easier.”

“I can’t believe we’re hoping for an ignorant person who I have to break a possible heirloom of theirs to not have this issue.” You said shaking your head, “Were there issues like this with the Bifrost?”

“Oh scores.” He said making you close your eyes. “Once there was a portal on Midgard however many races attempted to make their own and Bor had to destroy them all and declare it a fully Asgardian realm negating the need for mortals to have their own portal as they could be claimed at Bor’s will.”

“So I’m breaking Bor’s proclamation is what I just got.”

And he chuckled, “No, Odin attempted a portal of his own but there were troubles and then transport was barred as travel to Asgard was banned at the end of the war.”

“Pissing off the still living AllFather, even better.”

“Had he found fault Heimdall would have been issued to confiscate those rings. Clearly you have been granted possession of those portals by Yggdrasil and that is a right he cannot fathom the power to revoke. The great tree would simply return the rings to you. You are a gatekeeper now, who are very rarely located and highly coveted as such.”

Shaking your head you tried to ignore the thoughts of the AllFather and the great tree at war over something you had done. “If I have both rings then why do they need a guardian when I’ll be the one using them?”

“While there may be two gates, where you use them, danger is always possible, and a guardian is always required no matter if it is a link of two rings or a gateway that can reach a multitude of realms.” He drew in a breath and continued.  “Keep at the tests and as promised when you complete your sail we will send our weavers to assist in the waterproofing as the heat treat is rather simple. Everything will come into play as it should, just keep on your usual schedule. Same as always you will make sense of the rings in due time, no need to rush that, and I know you are respectfully diligent to complete your sail panels up to your standards. We will be out soon and you have our number if you get stuck.”

Pt 48

[use-your-telescope]

When Everything's Made to be Broken - Chapter 2: And You Have Every Right to be Scared

Summary: Theo ends up on SHIELD's Radar. Loki ponders his place among the Midgardians.

Author's Notes: First chapter with Theo POV! This is a much lighter chapter than the last one. Hoping to post Ch. 3 on 10/22, but it depends on how helping my parents move next weekend goes (I have it written, but having the time to post is another thing. If you enjoy, please reblog!

Content Warnings: None!

Word Count: 3,843

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

Song: Some Nights (Intro) - fun.

There are some nights I hold on to every note I ever wrote Some nights, I say "fuck it all" and stare at the calendar Waiting for catastrophes, imagining they'd scare me Into changing whatever it is I am changing into... And you have every right to be scared

It was really easy for Theo to pretend there wasn’t a sudden infestation of shadow creatures attacking Earth until she was locked in a dirty subway car beneath New York City with a horde of them.

Sure, she saw the recent news reports about their appearance in New York, not to mention the videos of different organizations struggling to fight them. Hell, at work she had treated some of the people who came into the Emergency Room after getting into a tussle with the little terrors. However, she was perfectly content to ignore the reports, the calls from Nick Fury, the stalking by Maria Hill, and the pestering by her Mémère to put her abilities to use by helping eradicate the beasts. 

Nick Fury may have done her family a favor a while back, but they already repaid it tenfold. It was no secret that he always kept tabs on Theo, but she assumed it had less to do with him calling on a favor and more with ensuring someone with abilities like hers was always monitored. 

If anything, the more Fury insisted on cornering Theo “to talk,” the more it seemed like Nick Fury had forgotten that Theo swore off everything affiliated with her powers. Theo was a civilian. She left that life behind, trading it in for stethoscopes and scrubs, and she was not about to go back. There was nothing that the Director of SHIELD could offer her that would change her mind. Besides, the hippocratic oath specified that Theo would do no harm, and if she really wanted to push Fury’s buttons, she could argue that the oath could apply to shadow creatures, even if they were eldritch horrors.

Well, that was what Theo told herself. In reality, she was content to ignore the shadow creature problem until a pack of the little monsters barged through the steel door of a subway car, snarling and slithering and reeking of death. Running crossed her mind, until one of the damn demons launched itself at Fran, the little old woman with the perfectly permed hair and smoker voice who always rode the subway back from her poker night at the same time that Theo was on her way home from work. 

Hippocratic oath be damned, Theo was not about to let Fran die right after she won $200 from Eddie (who from what Fran had told her over the course of many train rides, sounded like an absolute asshole). Fran needed to live so she could celebrate, which meant the beasts needed to go, and Theo was the only one around with the skills to exterminate them. 

A bit of strategic maneuvering among the chaos ensured that no one saw Theo activate her powers. Not even five minutes later, the subway car floor was littered with the dust of what was once the pests; she may have chosen to abstain from fighting, but after all that time combat still came to Theo like it was second nature. When all was said and done she slipped into the crowds, deactivated her powers, and returned to the scene, pretending to be just as shocked as everyone else.

In the days following the confrontation, the video of her singlehandedly obliterating the entire pack had gone viral. Even though Theo’s powers altered her appearance so a casual acquaintance could not identify her, anyone who knew about her little secret would instantly recognize her. Unfortunately, Fury and Maria were among the select few who knew exactly what they were looking at. After the video got out, the pair were somehow even more incessant in their attempts to speak to Theo, to the extent that she had to start relying on back doors and climbing out her fire escape to avoid them.

When the other members of the cover band Theo played in noticed her aversion to taking the main exits, they assumed she had a stalker. It certainly didn’t help that there was now a table of middle aged men in suits at every bar gig, standing out like a sore thumb amidst the younger, more casually dressed regulars. The only reason they didn’t call the police was because she eventually made up the claim that Stark Industries was recruiting her for their hospital that they just opened in Avengers Tower, so she was trying to make it less obvious to the people around her that she was being observed.

As far as lies went, it was terrible  - certainly not one of her best - but somehow they believed it.

It was a bit harder to avoid the SHIELD agents when she was at soccer practice. They sat in their vehicles, parked far enough away that none of the other players noticed. Sure, it made Theo wonder if there were times other creeps sat there watching their practices, but she never brought it up. Her team had just qualified to play in their rec league championship, so they needed to stay focused. 

A week after having to talk her bandmates out of calling the cops, Theo came home from a bar show to find Maria Hill accompanied by a collection of SHIELD agents in her apartment. The stalking was one thing, but entering her private space? Theo was moments away from banishing them to an alternate dimension, even if it meant she’d be in deep shit later on. 

Before Theo could unleash her temper on the uninvited house guests, Maria uttered a phrase so startling that even Theo was rendered speechless. 

“Director Fury wants to speak with you immediately - it’s about your parents and your sister.”

Cause there are some nights I hold you close, pushing you to hold me Or begging you to lock me up, never let me see the world Some nights, I live in horror of people on the radio Tea parties and Twitter, I've never been so bitter…

Two decades prior, had one inquired whether Loki could imagine himself living his life anywhere besides Asgard, Loki would have laughed at the preposterous nature of the statement. 

In his naivety, he believed Asgard to be the golden realm, the very definition of a Utopia - why would one wish to live anywhere else? Certainly, other realms had their charms - Vanaheim’s lush landscapes always provided a peaceful retreat, and visiting Midgard to cause lighthearted chaos was a childhood pastime for both Loki and Thor - but why would one ever wish to live anywhere other than the realm of the Gods themselves? 

As he sliced through another of what could best be described as “shadow beasts,” it occurred to Loki that the Norns had a rather cruel sense of humor. How else would he be in his current position, residing upon and working alongside the Midgardians to protect a realm which he was once sent to conquer? That morning, he was summoned to fend off a multiversal threat unlike anything he’d encountered among his many travels. The day before, he represented New Asgard at an international summit on environmentally sustainable food production practices. He had lived upon Midgard for over half a decade, with no sign of leaving any time soon.

Had someone informed younger Loki of what the fates had in store, he would have collapsed to the ground in a fit of relentless, all-consuming laughter which was so intense that one might think him mad. 

Alas, Asgard was no more. The few Aesir who survived Ragnarok were brought to Midgard, to establish a new civilization on the very land where Odin uttered his final words. No sooner had the Aesir landed on Midgard were they called into battle, facing off with the Mad Titan himself, Thanos, as well as the Black Order. More Aesir perished in a truly intergalactic battle which barely succeeded in preventing the Titan from achieving his goal - eliminating 50% of all living creatures in the universe. 

When the dust settled, the once mighty Aesir were reduced to a mere shadow of their former glory. They struggled to make sense of the tragedy, to attempt to rebuild without any of the tools which allowed the Aesir to thrive in the construction of Asgard. 

The initial reaction to Loki’s presence in the realm he once terrorized was not kind. Had it not been for Thor’s advocacy and Banner’s testament that Loki was acting under duress when he attacked New York, Loki would have been banished from the realm, if not outright executed. Whether he deserved his brother’s arduous defense, Loki was skeptical, but without an alternative for where he would go or what he would do, Loki was forced to accept the support.

Selfishly, he was grateful for his brother’s foolish sentiment, though he would rather hug Sutur than admit it aloud.

Preparing the Midgardians for what to expect when Thanos would inevitably arrive, as well as fighting alongside the Midgardians to defeat Thanos brought a tenuous truce. He no longer endured harassment when venturing beyond New Asgard, but scandalized whispers followed him as if they were the shadow of his legacy - a legacy of destruction, of embodying the monster which parents told their children of at night, of betraying those who he claimed to love. Those nearby would put forth a concerted effort to avoid crossing paths with the trickster, providing him a wide berth wherever he went.  

While the Midgardians were unafraid to hide their distrust, the attitudes which the Aesir held towards Loki were more difficult to ascertain. Perhaps they were conflicted; the time which Loki posed as Odin was among the most peaceful and prosperous that the realm had known, though it was at the cost of banishing the Allfather to a care home on Midgard. Banishing the Allfather led to Odin’s passing, which brought the return of Hela, and eventually caused Ragnarok. Though prophesied, it was not a stretch to argue that Loki’s actions served as the catalyst for the demise of thousands. And while Loki ensured the salvation and evacuation of many Aesir by piloting the Statesman to Asgard, it never should have reached such a state where evacuation was necessary. Sure, he unleashed Sutur and ultimately ended Ragnarok, but that was simply a matter of finishing what he started. 

Then there was Loki’s involvement with the interruption of Thor’s coronation, the invasion of Jotunheim, the banishment of Thor, and the killing of his father, Laufey. All of which led to his involvement with the Mad Titan and the Black Order - a time which Loki had no interest in revisiting, but caused irreparable harm to many people and multiple realms. And though most were unaware, Loki could be traced back to the death of Frigga - had he not informed Kursed where to find Jane, the Allmother would have remained alive. He may have nearly sacrificed himself to protect Jane Foster, but one heroic moment was nowhere near the atonement required for his past actions.

The search for atonement was how Loki found himself fighting alongside Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. 

It had been Thor’s idea. The oaf believed that joining the Avengers would cast Loki in a positive light and improve his reputation, which would be important if he were to remain on Midgard and ruling New Asgard by Thor’s side. Additionally, joining the Avengers would provide the younger prince with a means by which to continue practicing magic, as well as access to knowledge and resources which might satisfy Loki’s more scholarly nature.

The case Thor put forth was not terrible; perhaps a lesser being would have been swayed. However, neither of the reasons he provided were the cause of Loki relenting to the constant pestering about assisting the Heroes.

Loki viewed the agreement to join the Avengers as reparations, or paying his penance. He did not expect the Avengers to welcome a villain into their midst, much less a monster - he certainly was no hero. If anything, he expected them to view him as a wolf in sheep’s clothing. They would be civil towards the Asgardian, and in exchange he would provide whatever assistance they needed while maintaining a safe distance.

That was years ago. In recent days, Thor swore the Midgardians had come to love Loki, though Loki was hardly convinced. Sure, the Midgardians no longer made a point to avoid the younger prince wherever he went; if he was out in public with Thor, from time to time a passerby would approach and ask for a photo with the trickster instead of the God of Thunder. The media relished opportunities to interview the God of Mischief, during which he turned on his charm and played the reporters like a fiddle. It was all a show. Loki knew that it was a facade, an illusion - a part he played in the elaborate scheme of things. Still, there were moments where he allowed himself to dwell on what it might be like to truly belong, to know he was not alone. 

A flash of movement in the corner of his vision caught Loki’s attention. He turned to find Maximoff unleashing a blast of chaos magic on a pack of the eldritch vermin which had overrun the streets as of late. She offered a bright smile and wave; Loki allowed one corner of his lips to quirk upward as he nodded at her. 

Even if his responsibility was little more than to play a part, there was something to be said for the recent challenge which occupied the Avengers’ time. Shadow creatures, for lack of a better term, randomly started appearing in New York, attacking random civilians and destroying anything they touched. 

In the many years since Loki had adopted Midgard as his place of residence, never had he encountered a situation quite like this. All efforts to identify the origin of the beings had been futile. The creatures were not like anything encountered by any of the Avengers, Loki included, and even among the seemingly endless supply of information available to the Avengers, no record of similar creatures appeared anywhere. The magical aura which emanated from the creatures was quite distinct from anything Loki had encountered before.

And yet, the prospect of a challenge that not only required skill in battle, but a certain intellectual pedigree brought a spark that he had not felt in quite some time. Perhaps it was an antidote to the drudgery. 

Or, perhaps it was a chance to prove to himself that he was in fact worthy of the title of “Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.” 

He didn’t dare dwell on the thought.

And you, why you wanna stay? Oh my God! Have you listened to me lately? Lately, I've been going crazy... And you, why you wanna stay? Oh my God! Have you listened to me lately? Lately, I've been fucking crazy...

She must have lost her mind.

Flanked by a pair of SHIELD security guards, Theo cursed herself for agreeing to go with Maria. Really, she must have lost her mind - that was the only reasonable explanation that Theo could come up with for her lapse in judgment. After all, everyone in her immediate family was dead, and they had been dead for a long time. If she couldn’t bring back the dead, there was no way that anyone affiliated with SHIELD could. 

What could Nick Fury possibly want to speak with Theo about regarding her parents and her sister that hadn’t been discussed long ago?

When she considered the situation, it was more realistic to assume that there was probably some treaty that Theo broke by using her power. Given she wouldn’t come willingly, they must have realized they needed to lure her out so they could lock her up - even if the Sokovia Accords were no longer enforced, it didn’t mean people were still a bit put off by anyone with… abilities. Again, another reason why she had no interest in using her powers.

Along the cool tile floor, Theo’s black oxford shoes clicked with each step. The sound echoed off the sterile halls, while harsh fluorescent lights illuminated the path forward. Staring ahead, Theo had to stop herself from snickering when she realized Fury’s bald head actually shined under the light, as if he polished it for the occasion. 

What would happen if Theo told them she changed her mind? Would they grab her and drag her into whatever interrogation room they undoubtedly had set up for her? Would they skip the interrogation and toss her into a cell? Or would they let her slip away?

Probably the first option. Maybe the second. The third was laughable. This was SHIELD they were talking about; they probably had some kind of ward on the entire compound to restrict any special abilities.

No, it was too late - she had come too far, and she couldn’t turn back. She may as well play along and see what they wanted. If nothing else came from it, she was curious to see what on earth would be related to her family.

Then again, Curiosity killed the cat… or some shit like that. 

Well, nothing managed to kill her yet, so it was safe to say that curiosity probably wouldn’t be her cause of death.

Arriving at their destination, Maria scanned her badge to unlock the steel door. Fury entered first, not even offering a nod of acknowledgement to Maria. With a tense smile, Maria gestured for Theo to enter next. Theo forced the closest thing she could offer to a smile before following suit.

Based on the hallway they just exited, Theo expected an interrogation room to await her. Instead, she was greeted by black leather chairs with high backs, which surrounded a relatively small table constructed from metal and glass. A projector dropped down from the ceiling, pointed at a screen on the opposite end of the room. There were no windows. Pale gray walls echoed the metal finishes found throughout the rest of the SHIELD facility.

A conference room. 

“Sit.” Fury gestured to a chair, though he didn’t make any effort to sit himself.

Keeping her eyes trained on the director, Theo cautiously lowered herself into the seat.

“I thought you were done fighting.” Fury began, crossing his arms and glaring at Theo. 

“I thought you could control your interplanetary invasions better, but if it’s between having to fight versus watching little old Fran get ripped to shreds, I’m protecting Fran.” Leaning back in her seat, Theo crossed her arms and returned Fury’s glare. “You know that I want nothing to do with this, so why won’t you leave me alone?”

“We understand that you want to be a civilian, but you know more about shadow creatures and the world they come from than anyone else,” Maria answered, taking a seat across from Theo and folding her hands together atop the table. “We wouldn’t be trying to enlist you if we felt we had other options to stop them.”

“So you lied about having something I needed to know about my family so you could get me down here and beg me to help?” An incredulous laugh snuck out of Theo as she shook her head. “That’s low, even for SHIELD–”

“Your parents and your sister are alive.”

With seven words, Nick Fury rendered Theo speechless. 

It wasn’t possible; there was no way they were alive. Theo was there - she saw their blood spilled on the cobblestone streets, empty eyes reflecting back a city engulfed in flames. Their final cries still rang in her ears on the darkest nights.

Searching his face for proof that he was trying to trick her, Theo only found the harsh glare and narrowed eyes that the director cast at everyone around him. 

Fire coursed through Theo’s veins at the audacity of Fury’s claim; that he believed he could fool her was almost enough to make her leave right then and there. 

“Bullshit.” Theo clenched her jaw, her hands balled into fists as they remained in her lap. “You know as well as I do that they were killed in the massacre—”

“Proof.” To make his point, Fury slapped a manila folder down in front of Theo. “They may have been in the massacre, but they weren’t killed.”

Biting back her ire at Fury for the moment, Theo turned her attention to the contents of the folder. Photos, partially redacted communication records, measurements of their magical signatures, all relatively recent - her mother, her father, and her sister. 

An avalanche of thoughts cascaded in Theo’s mind. If this was the case - if they were really alive, how did they survive? Where were they now? Why hadn’t they tried to contact Theo, or Mémère, or the council? 

Theo drew in a deep breath, holding it for a five-count, then released it slowly.

“This doesn’t make sense,” She said, scanning over the documents yet again. “If you know they’re alive, where are they? Why aren’t they here?” 

“Here’s the deal: you help us with the shadow creature invasion, and we’ll help you reunite with your family.” Rather than answer Theo’s question, Fury leaned forward, folding his hands together and resting them on the table. “Work with the Avengers to investigate and eliminate whoever’s at the center of these invasions. If you do, once you’re reunited with your family, we’ll leave you alone.” 

“Wow, that seems rather manipulative, don’t you think?” Theo drawled, her tone unapologetically sharp as she glared at the pair of SHIELD agents across from her. “Withholding my family from me in exchange for my services?”

“We’ll need to work together in order to reach your family anyways,” Maria pointed out with a small shrug.

“You help us, we’ll help you.” Fury pressed.

Some people believed in fate. Some people believed in destiny. Theo didn’t believe in either - while she had been placed in positions where it seemed like she had no choice more times than she could count, she knew that she, ultimately, was the one who decided her path forward. At times, the decisions were obvious, but there were plenty of decisions made that kept Theo up at night. 

This was one decision she was not ready to make.

“Give me two days to think it over,” Theo countered. “I’ll find you when I’ve made up my mind.”

Two days was reasonable - she needed time to do some research of her own, figure out what parts of the situation Fury was holding off on telling her, and weigh the risks of agreeing to the proposal. 

Then again, if they were alive… What did she have to lose?

There are some nights I wait for someone to save us But I never look inward, try not to look upward And some nights I pray a sign is gonna come to me But usually, I'm just trying to get some sleep... Some nights!

Tag list: @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @thedistractedagglomeration @lokisgoodgirl @simplyholl @mochie85 @coldnique @lokixryss @gigglingtiggerv2 @infinitystoner @loopsisloops @mischief2sarawr @crzyplantladyvibes @buttercupcookies-blog @vickie5446 @wolfsmom1 @sarahscribbles @loki-cees-all @the-lady-amphitrite @tripleyeeet - let me know if you want to be added!

[indelen]

Borrowed Time - Chapter 23

FROM THE START

Chapter 23: LOKI I - Copy and Bind

Except:

“You failed to mention the damn thing was yours to begin with!” snapped Stark at Loki, “and I suppose there is no way to know if the book was copied before it was donated?”

“No,” Heimdal’s tone was dry.

“Stark” sighed Loki, “be at peace knowing that I don’t require copies of books - I commit them to memory entirely. There is nothing in this whole Repository that I don't already know, from the magic holding together the Casket of Ancient Winters to how to make lingonberry liqueur and everything in between.”

“Fascinatingly, it does not, in fact, make me at peace!” snapped back Stark.

“You get used to it,” said Heimdall with what, to Loki’s utter shock, may have been actual good humour, “but I must accompany His Royal Majesty, please excuse me.”

[phoenix-and-found-family]

Hello people who found this craziness entertaining!

I made this blog because I was bored and wanted a place to lore dump about my ocs without bothering the few normal people that come across my main blog

‼️DISCLAIMER: THE ART IN THE HEADER ISN'T MINE! I got it from this picrew: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1473879‼️

You can ask my characters anything you want, just be aware I won't answer asks I'm not comfortable answering/are about upcoming lore that I don't want to spoil before I write it

Just state who the question is for, and if you don't I'll assume the question is for me and answer accordingly

Basic blog things:

Sorry Phoenix x Juniper shippers, my blog doesn't do that because I personally don't see it. But I support if you ship them and love to see stuff like that! I do ship Prism x Reginald though, and Prism x Fabby...

Basically I ship her with everyone except Phoenix and maybe John.

Also, I have no drawing skills at all, so please don't expect me to draw them doing anything 😭 (edit: I have a couple drawing skills now and plan to use all of them for this >:3)

My Phoenix!!!

Name: [REDACTED]

Codename: Agent Phoenix

Age: 22

Pronouns: They/Them

Height: 5'2" No fuck that I'm totally 6'3" and have large muscles

Joined the agency at: 18

Favorite color(s): Red and Black

Disability(s): Agent Phoenix is missing their right leg from a horrible car crash that claimed the lives of their parents at 14, forcing them to live on the streets for two years until they eventually got scouted by the agency. Miraculously, even though they've been in far worse danger and experienced far worse pain, they have not sustained any other lasting injuries.

Personality: Imagine if the Norse god Loki and a can of Monster Energy drink had a child who likes to commit arson as a hobby.

Random facts: Phoenix can read, write, and speak fluent English, Spanish, and Japanese because their parents moved around all the time and barely stayed in one place for more than a month. They're also pretty good at Mandarin Chinese, Portuguese, and Galic, but have absolutely no understanding of Italian.

They can do some basic martial arts, but they mainly excel at accidental stealth and all-out brawl style fights, for they are very fast and good at analyzing how exactly to take an enemy out.

They are diagnosed with autism and auditory schizophrenia, although they believe that they may also have ADHD because of how much stimulation they need to get their job done.

Lore posts

Here are the links (Oldest to Youngest by when I posted them) to posts that give you more lore about my versions of these characters

The Home Argument (Handler's perspective)

The Home Argument (Phoenix's perspective)

The Agency can Wait

Random Headcannons (self h@rm mention)

What became of Solaris (Radio transmission #1)

The Call

A Phoenix burns hottest when it's Born Again (Part 1)

The Most Perfect Name

I know I'm pathetic (angst)

Incident report 067 (more angst)

Can't cage a Phoenix arc

Brothers of the Stars (long ass RP chain with @the-one-and-only-043 )

Who's Trevor? (slightly angsty)

The most painful way to say goodbye (even longer RP chain with @the-one-and-only-043 and @wyvchard (sorry for the tags))

The Victim of a Basilisk (Part 1)

Agency file: The Basilisk & Dr. Vadas

The Victim of a Basilisk (Part 2)

Dream Cast ( @wyvchard version)

Dream Cast ( @the-one-and-only-043 version)

Screen Cast (right after the other two, some Agent Circuit lore)

OC's

Agent Ombre (profile)

Agent Circuit Board (image)

Rants (that may or may not contain lore)

Reginald Crane is a professional

John Juniper is known for his lies

A Reversal of Roles (ieytd au)

Random lore (doesn't really have a name)

Operation: Deluge (ieytd au)

How do you kill a Phoenix? (announcement post)

Random things you should probably know beforehand

Prologue: The Death of a Phoenix (This takes you directly to the Ao3 chapter, heads up)

Unconditional Love (Roxanix fic thingy, full of angst)

Part one (Prism's Perspective)

Part one (Phoenix's Perspective)

Part two (Reginald's Perspective)

Part two (Phoenix's Perspective)

A trip to the past (fic idea by @kayssweetdreams , thank you!)

Part one

Random ask things

Phoenix's text will be red

Reginald's text will be orange

Juniper's text will be green

Prism's text will be blue

Fabricator's text will be purple

We've also got Hivemind and his text is pink

(this does not apply to lore posts(usually(sometimes I add this system in because it's hard to tell who's talking)))

Thanks for reading! That's all for now :3

[bloodiedrogue]

CONFLICTION

SUMMARY: Avis is good at killing, great even. So why does tonight feel different?

PAIRING: Loki Laufeyson & Original Female Character

WORD COUNT: 2,539

WARNINGS: Descriptions of murder and mild body horror.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi, hopefully this chapter wasn't bad? I've been in such a shitty place when it comes to writing and I'm already not very confident in writing first chapters so :') Anyway, I know this has literally no Loki whatsoever but I promise in the next chapter he does make a (small, sorry) appearance!! I just needed to set some shit up first!

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST

-

MEETING NOTES APRIL 16TH, 2016

THOSE IN ATTENDANCE: TONY STARK, STEVE ROGERS, JAMES RHODES, NATASHA ROMANOFF, THE VISION, AVIS FINCH, ETHAN CAMPBELL, ISAAC LANE. 

STARK: Alright, Ghosty, you and your bandits have the floor. 

FINCH: Thanks, Tony. Okay, well, uh, first of all, thanks for hearing us out. I know you don’t have a lot of time on your hands, so, uh, yeah —anyway, we’re here today to discuss with you some intel we received on March 25th, 2016.

ROGERS: What kind of intel?

LANE: While touring in Reykjavik we were informed of a threat developing in the northern parts of Canada. An extremist group that goes by the name of REGEN. R-E-G-E-N.

FINCH: Essentially they’re a radical group of born-agains who believe in the eradication of mutants. [pause] During one of our missions we encountered one by the name of Linda Meekly. At the time she was undercover working under the pseudonym Sofia Petrov.

LANE: We discovered her body in the Jónsson household while sweeping the area post-altercation. On her person, there were two different items tracing back to said group such as a cell phone that we had Ethan decode and a tattoo on her left wrist. 

RHODES: What’s the connection with the tattoo?

CAMPBELL: The tattoo is of a pair of antlers.

RHODES: Antlers? Seems like a bit of a stretch.

CAMPBELL: Well, uh [pause] oftentimes antlers are considered symbols of regrowth. Regrowth being a word that’s typically synonymous with the term regeneration —hence the connection to the name REGEN.

FINCH: Basically, at the beginning that was our assumption. Regrowth equals REGREN equals the obvious born-again culture these individuals adopt. [pause] Then when we did some further research we found that Linda’s phone was riddled with pictures similar to the tattoo itself.

CAMPBELL: We included those in the case file for you to see. 

ROGERS: What else did you find on the phone?

LANE: A series of coordinates locating various group bases. Most are along the northern border of Canada —some to the west, but mostly east, as well as at least four along the coastlines of Greenland. 

ROMANOFF: Any in Iceland?

FINCH: Yes, the one in Reykjavik had one just twelve miles north of the Jónsson house.

STARK: Wait, why was Meekly at the house in the first place? 

LANE: According to an email sent to her brother just after four o’clock the same day, she was there trying to make a deal with Ketill Jónsson, a well-known, high-ranking member of HYDRA. 

ROGERS: Do you know what the deal was?

FINCH: At this moment in time we’re not entirely sure. Our best guess was that Ketill was on the fence about HYDRA’S recent plans. Seeing as HYDRA is a very active group when it comes to the process of mutating humans we’re assuming REGEN is against them in some way. 

ROMANOFF: A common enemy. 

LANE: Possibly. All we know for now, based on both emails and texts, was that Linda and Ketill knew each other previously, that she was there to speak with him, and that both of them died in an ambush carried out by SHIELD. 

STARK: Ambush?

THE VISION: Director Fury ordered a hit against the household after it was found they were withholding a powerful artefact. 

STARK: Artefact, which artefact? I didn’t hear about—

THE VISION: It’s [redacted], it gives the user the powers of [redacted].

LANE: We and the rest of our team were sent to retrieve it by any means necessary.

STARK: I see.

RHODES: So, what does all this have to do with us?

FINCH: Unfortunately the retrieval was deemed a failure. Four of our agents died and the [redacted] was not recovered. We’re here to try and make things right and explore all of our options. 

[group pause]

ROGERS: You think this REGEN group took it?

-

Avis’s skin feels like it’s melting.

Against the blaring heat of the shower head, she bites her bottom lip and continues to scrub, moving down her forearm in repeated motions. Hissing, she feels the surface of it sting, its glowing red aura reminding her that despite the pain, the circumstances of this shade are better than the last. That these raw splotches of pinks and reds are better than the crimson liquid of a dying man’s cough. 

Because even though his blood is long gone, the build-up of grime she feels beneath her skin will never wash away. Despite her deepest hopes, that feeling of Abner’s last breath against her skin will forever live within her lungs, holding onto her bronchioles each time she tries to find relief within the air. 

Like his predecessors, he’ll be added to the long list of men and women embedded into her body. The memory of his death —the way he clutched her throat against the ground, swearing about how he’d kill her before she ultimately did the same unto him— will forever stick to her like sap from a tree she knows will outlive her. 

For a while, she’ll see his face in everyone she meets, picking up on certain inflections and mannerisms. In crowded rooms she’ll see glimpses of him in the background, looming like he so often did. And at night, she knows he’ll surely haunt her dreams. His twisted face grinning beneath her blood-soaked body as he whispers all the secrets she never wanted to hear. 

Knowing this, she continues scrubbing, moving to the next arm with a sigh, hoping that the new location will provide some relief before the water runs cold and she’s forced to move his body. 

A crossroad she’s hardly excited to come to. 

Just the thought relinquishes a shaky breath within her. The kind filled with fear and guilt —the realization that if she doesn’t do this she’s screwed because her DNA is all over his carcass. The pads of her fingers, stained with his blood, are stamped all over his skin. Contrasting his paleness, every etch of her identity is tattooed against his throat. Seared into his chest. Blistering across his abdomen. 

So, if she leaves now, she’ll surely get caught.

Would that truly be as awful as it sounds?

It’s a thought that runs through her mind for quite some time. The possibility of it all playing over and over, each conclusion slightly different than the last. 

“What if I just gave up, hm?” she asks herself as she stops the running water and steps out, feeling a chill run up her spine because, yes, what if? 

What if, instead of continuing this plot alone she went and got help? It couldn’t possibly be that bad, right? Sure, she’s killed her fair share of people but obviously, all of them came with their reasons —stories filled to the brim with validities of her actions. 

For an easy example, Abner was a cultist. A stupid man hellbent on eradicating the existence of mutants. Every word that fell from his mouth was propaganda about how they were the enemy —how they were genetic failures sent to overthrow God and his people. There wasn’t a normal, well-functioning bone in that man’s body and it showed even in his last moments. 

Stepping out of the bathroom Avis glances at his lifeless body on the floor, giving it a tsk. If only he’d listened the first time. 

“I really did give you a chance, Abe,” she says out loud then, moving across the space with careful feet to grab her bag. Inside there are toiletries, a change of clothes and some equipment —cleaning supplies, rope, a saw, garbage bags etc. Things she often used on her missions when SHIELD’s help wasn’t readily available. 

Lazily, she grabs the change of clothes and begins to get dressed, ignoring the way Abner’s eyes stare blankly at the ceiling all dried out and wide from the air in the room, opting to focus on the texture of her underwear as she slides them over still damp legs. 

It almost makes her thankful that she’s alive to feel anything. The lingering presence of death still heavy on her mind. 

When Abner was suffocating her she could almost taste that sweet relief. That sensation of ultimate release. As she tried to gasp, she could feel it through the breathlessness of her lungs. The tightness in her chest filled up like a balloon on the verge of destruction. At that moment, everything inside of her felt like a cliff’s edge; the sudden thought to jump splayed across the inside of her mind. The craving for that last step as she lay underneath him, gripping onto his forearms becoming more and more apparent. 

By then, the darkness had already begun to envelop her. Like an old friend, it came to her aid when she needed it most, whispering in her ear that everything would be fine —that giving in was alright despite the job going on unfinished. Someone would surely pick up where you left off, the voice told her.

She wanted to listen. More than anything she wanted to produce a bloodied smile and just let go, but deep down she was just too stubborn. Too angry and persistent in her quest, so now she’s here instead, tiredly putting on her bra while the dead man next to her lives her dream. 

It’s unfair, isn’t it? That, in the end, such an evil person gets exactly what he wants. A fateful death at the hands of a mutant. How fitting. 

Rolling her eyes at the thought, Avis begins to move back to the bathroom, toiletries in hand as she angrily kicks Abner’s side, hoping to release some frustrations. 

“Maybe I should just cut you up and leave you here,” she mumbles, grabbing her toothbrush. “I could call your wife —pretend to be the police and leave before she shows up.” She uncaps the toothpaste, slathering a little bit on before shoving the brush into the side of her mouth. “Then she can have the pleasure of burying you instead of me.” 

It’s a tempting thought. One that often repeats itself each time Avis finds herself in the aftermath of a kill. A part of her knows it’d be fun to give in to her desires. To let loose a little bit despite knowing that the worst parts of herself come out then —the petty, frustrated ones that would rather risk getting caught than give her victims the satisfaction of being right. 

Most of the time in those moments she imagines what it’d be like to see the pain on their family’s faces, knowing that a mutant did this to them. Would it change anything? Would they be scared to see the lifeless body of their fallen comrade? Or maybe relieved? 

It’s a question she often wonders each time she disposes of the body. As she kneels in motel rooms under dimly lit lamps and cell phone flashlights, taking apart each target piece by piece, her mind drifts to places far from the flesh in front of her. Places of quiet contentment; of comfort and joy and—

She spits into the sink, a small ache flowing through her as she turns on the faucet to wipe everything down. In silence, she sticks her brush under the cool water, running her thumb mindlessly along the bristles before tossing it aside with a sigh, opting to forgo deep cleaning the basin as she moves back into the room to start setting everything up.

-

To the average person, decapitating a body is excruciating work. To Avis, it’s just a few annoying steps between the kill and a well-deserved good night’s sleep. 

In fact, on average, she can tear apart the body of a target in four hours flat. From set up to tear down, she’s meticulously perfected the entire process —every movement flowing into the next. So much so she doesn’t even have to think of what comes next. 

When performing, her mind is like an empty vessel, giving room for her hands to beat and cut and—

Tonight though, she feels a wave of exhaustion flowing over her. Her thoughts once shoved to the back of her mind, run rampant at the forefront, making it hard for her to focus on the cutting of the saw. In her hand, she can feel it constantly slipping between her fingers each time she rakes it across the column of Abner’s half-open stomach. Its handle feels strange as she wiggles her digits and swears under her breath, trying her best not to think because to properly sit with the results of her actions, she has the shove the image of Abner’s deconstructed body into a box somewhere. She needs to act on routine. To take the hammer then the saw then the bags. 

Bash, slice, store, repeat. 

Instead of imagining the consequences she needs to turn back to her motivations. Why does she do this? Who is she doing this for? What will happen when she finishes this? 

Normally, it’s an easy enough task to complete, but tonight something’s off. Something subtle that makes her stomach twist each time she hears the usual sounds of the world. She can feel it penetrating her ability to work. Any time there’s even the tiniest hint of life outside her door she finds herself pausing. 

“I’m probably just imagining things,” she has to keep telling herself. “I did all the usual steps. I made sure we were hidden.” 

After every limb cut, instead of forcing herself to continue like usual, she takes small breathers, knowing that tonight it’s necessary. She can’t work under the conditions of self-distress, despite her obvious impatience. She needs to slow down —to stand and stretch and breathe because if she doesn’t, she runs the risk of getting caught.

Which is an odd thing to think about now that she’s killed more than the average person. No longer is the act itself something she ponders. Now it’s the conflict. The back-and-forth feelings of wanting to do what’s right versus knowing that getting to that point is wrong. 

Deep down, she knows she’s a fucking hypocrite. Your classic case of comic book vigilante who does everything right for the wrong reasons. The blood on her hands isn’t deemed worthy of her effort. The blood caked beneath dirtied nails that scratch at wicked skin is nothing but a nuisance in the eyes of both sides and she knows it. 

That’s why she has to keep going. 

So she does. With a sigh, despite the exhaustion, Avis picks up where she left off, gripping the saw as tightly as possible. Against her palm, the handle moves with ease, sliding further down flesh and bone with each pass until Abner’s completely deconstructed and tucked away in small bags. 

Despite the uncomfortable context, it still feels like an accomplishment to stare down at her work. Each bag tied and packed away for safekeeping. It means the worst is over, signalling Avis’s tired grin as she rubs her eyes and continues. 

Just as efficiently as the task before, she packs up her things, barely bothering to organize, knowing she doesn’t have much time.

The sun is nearly rising and she’s just managed to finish up, meaning that she has about an hour to make it to the safe house.

-

TAGGING: @lovelysizzlingbluebirdd, @just-someone11, @linaax, @eleniblue, @infinitystoner, @ozymdias, @use-your-telescope, @liminalpebble, @freegardenbanananeck, @lokixryss, @unlucky-number-13, @violethaze, @simplyholl, @coldnique, @mischief2sarawr, @jasperthechaosgremlin (if you’d like to be added fill out this form)

[nightmarefuele]

muse directory.

primaries in big. repression is a huge theme on this blog. smut happens (usually in gruesome ways), but don't expect it.

Dune, Star Wars, general gritty sci-fi;

na-Baron Feyd-Rautha ; austin butler ; draws 98% from the '24 film. Verosha Aniseya ; amandla stenberg Qimir | The Stranger ; manny jacinto ; might feature a knight verse in addition to some canon Ren (of 'the' Ren) ; adam driver ; a heavily divergent/'oc-ified', post(usually)-snoke, visceral horror, gritty lean from star wars' kylo ren. Shin Hati ; ivanna sakhno ; ahsoka. Kylo Ren ; adam driver ; as close to kylo 'canon' as i'm capable of writing, but solely draws from tfa characterization. Mae-ho Aniseya ; amandla stenberg Paul-Muad'Dib Atreides ; timothee chalamet ; leans on the book(+ messiah) from time to time. Lady Margot Fenring ; léa seydoux. Officer KD6-3.7 ; ryan gosling ; blade runner 2049 . Ezra ; pedro pascal ; prospect (2018). Cee ; sophie thatcher ; prospect (2018).

HotD;

Melisande Shahrizai ; oc-ified character lifted from the kushiel's series; testing ; some amalgamized version of saffron vadher with myriem boukadida's vogue covers Aegon II Targaryen ; tom glynn-carney Alicent Hightower ; olivia cooke Aemond Targaryen ; ewan mitchell Rhaena Targaryen ; phoebe campbell Jacaerys Velaryon ; harry collett Addam di Hull ; clinton liberty Rhaenyra Targaryen ; milly alcock, emma d'arcy Mysaria ; sonoya mizuno Helaena Targaryen ; hunter schafer (slightly different interpretation), phia sabban Oscar Tully ; archie barnes Alys Rivers ; gayle rankin, katie mcgrath Baela Targaryen ; bethany antonia

villains, antiheroes;

John Constantine ; keanu reeves Loki Laufeyson ; tom hiddleston ; fuck u i don't consider post-tdw canon. ciao Jonathan Crane ; cillian murphy ; selective muse, likely won't be writing him within gotham just for the sake of gotham. want to explore him thru different subjects and lenses.

bleak, flexible, modern;

Shelly Webster ; fka twigs ; the crow (2024). Lisa Nova ; rosa salazar ; brand new cherry flavor.Code ; manny jacinto ; brand new cherry flavor. Elliot Alderson ; rami malek ; mr. robot. Phillip Price ; michael cristofer ; mr. robot. Leon ; joey bada$$ ; mr. robot. Lisbeth Salander ; rooney mara ; the girl with the dragon tattoo (2011) . Berry Rydell ; young josh hartnett ; freelance private security officer from william gibson's virtual light trilogy, based in retrofuturist nocal and socal. just a guy doing his own thing and getting caught up, routinely, somehow, in the national (but very top-secret) dickfight over some expensive glasses. + virtual reality, or whatever. Control (John Rodriguez) ; bob morley ; based on authority by jeff vandermeer, and annihilation, book and film, exploring hypnosis/mind control and consequent distrust, or outright paranoia. operates at the branch-end of a highly bureaucratic and mysterious organization. eventually ends up at Southern Reach, "...a secret agency that manages expeditions into a place known as Area X, an uninhabited and abandoned coastal area of an unnamed country which nature is gradually reclaiming." 'nature', in this context, being a cute/tame word. refers to his guns as 'gramps', 'grandpa', 'grandpap', etc. 6" tall, impassive. Tangerine ; aaron taylor-johnson ; bullet train . Colin Laney ; tbd. ; has a talent for identifying nodal points. Kid ; dev patel ; monkey man. Benny Cross ; austin butler ; the bikeriders ; characters like these are cute. i basically get to make them ocs.

apocalypse;

Joel Miller ; pedro pascal . Imperator Furiosa ; anya taylor-joy. (alyla browne.) Dr. Dementus ; chris hemsworth. Max Rockatansky ; tom hardy..

cyberpunk, modern sci-fi;

Connor (the Android Sent by Cyberlife) ; bryan dechart. Takeshi Kovacs ; joel kinnaman . Jesper Fahey ; kit young . Kaz Brekker ; freddy carter . Yennefer of Vengerberg ; anya chalotra .

cartoon;

Blitzø ; helluva boss Azula ; atla Silco ; arcane Jinx ; arcane Zuko ; atla

aus are fun. hit me with em or forever hold your peace.

ocs, always subject to adapt and update on a thread-to-thread basis;

Viggo Hurskainen ; firstname aliases include vil, nils, lars ; bill skarsgård ; 'soft' but also murdery. deranged and confused. will break away just as erratically as tag along. backdrops include scandinavian/russian/german mafia, interdimensional southern cthulhian gothic, (vampire) cult, serial killer bullshit, et al. sometimes works as 'housekeeping/cleanup crew.' (for assassinations.) (sometimes is the assassin/ation. or spy.) Oeznik Ambroicz ; cillian murphy ; loosely based on a character from an original script. flexible iterations. director of an institute/facility (sometimes agency, depending on setting and historical values) that focuses on exploring the residual elements that paranormal trauma leaves behind. these elements can be purely psychological, physical, combined, or, sometimes, paranormal themselves. in other iterations, to draw further on lovecraftian or cthulhu mythos elements, oeznik may lean more private investigator, or 'freelance', for his own mysterious and often unexplained purposes. focused and preoccupied when fixed securely inside his element; wary and suspicious when not. Nadya ; sara serraiocco, sara montpetit ; lab experiment turned a) runaway, b) interdimensional spy/assassin, c) something something time shenanigans. or simple modern ones. who the fuck knows. Dorian Yu ; christian yu ; tba. loosely based on christian yu's musical creations. relies either on psychological themes (wherein dorian is bipolar), for stories more grounded in realism, or the supernatural. heavily flexible, works into most (if not all) modern environments. can be taken a vaguely sci-fi or heavily cyberpunk route. (he's fun. smiley ball of energy and sunshine, or depressive and vaguely antagonistic shut-in.) prone to delusions, dissociation, and in severe instances, amnesia. Fifine ; anya taylor-joy ; random modern verse shenanigans. (the) Insomnium ; tbd. ; developed and hatched by a cult of space witches moreso than born. derived from an organically inorganic (or just inexplicable) substance. for tumblr purposes, blends the idea of dune's 'voice'. cult functions similarly on some levels to the b.g., but is entirely an unknown. stems from the same gritty, visceral horror environment and themes as the ren. (especially picky about where i throw this one.) space cultists tba.