#Tesseract: light dims

[loki-cees-all]

Chapter 7 - All the Tiring Time Between {TLTGYA - Post!TVA Loki x OFC Longfic}

Previous Chapter / TLTGYA Masterlist / A03 Link / Next Chapter

Pairing : Post-TVA!Loki x Oliviette (OFC)

Chapter Summary : Sometimes the sharpest boundaries require the gentlest touch.

Chapter W/c : 8.7k words

Chapter Tags / Content : Angst (as always), brief mentions of blood and injuries. Also there's a bunch of Tesseract lore and Loki's history with Thanos that I really got carried away with while writing this.

18+ Only - Minors DNI

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

The silence in the cell was electrifyingly tense, and Loki wished he had something else to focus his attention on. 

His jaw ached as he took another bite of the flavorless, perplexing bread that was both stale and damp at the same time. He should have been grateful for it and its distraction, despite the woman having offered it without even so much as looking at him. But it just reminded him of the year he’d spent with the Mad Titan: Wretched. Forsaken. Totally and completely hopeless. 

Loki tried desperately not to think about it, but it was getting harder to fight as his exhaustion grew. 

The woman sat across from him in the cell, her knees pulled to her chest and her expression blank. She’d said absolutely nothing after dismissing his question about Anathema the night prior, not even when the peculiar guards brought in their cruel attempt at a meal. She didn’t even flinch when they set the tray down in front of her, nor when the duo stared, cold and unmoving, presumably waiting for her to beg for her life like all the others…but she did wait until they were finally gone to pull the tray closer. 

She had grabbed the chunk of bread first, and extended it towards him in the shadows like it was second-nature to her. As if it wasn’t ever an option that she wouldn’t share it, and despite the fact that they were in stark disagreement about their respective situations in this place. 

He felt guilty for accepting the offering, but unfortunately, he felt like he had no other choice; his eyelids were growing heavier by the minute, his muscles were becoming weaker with each new day of disuse, and his nerves were perpetually fried with wary energy. He was constantly stifling another yawn, and was dangerously close to falling asleep, to having another nightmare again. 

Loki didn’t know if he ever talked in his sleep, but he didn’t want to risk revealing any compromising information about himself or his past; the less anyone knew about him here, the better off they all were. 

But other than the food she’d shared with him, there wasn’t much else for him to distract himself with. The woman wasn’t talking anymore, and her questions had faded away alongside the hope she may have once had about escaping. That left Loki to alone deal with his questions about her, and their inscrutable answers. 

The problem with that, however, was that his mind was nothing but a tangled mess; a rat’s nest, made up of lies and false memories, the betrayals of the life he’d left behind, and all the lives that never were. Before him lay a scattering of dots, all seemingly unrelated and centered around a woman who claimed she didn’t know what they wanted with her, and he couldn’t seem to make heads or tails of any of it.

Loki used to pride himself on his ability to see the bigger picture, especially on a galactic scale. But he had come here to hide and to wallow, to purposely let his mind atrophy into a cobweb of nothingness, because that was easier than continue trying, and failing, to be happy. He felt comfortable doing that, and letting this become his legacy, because he hadn’t ever expected a riddle to fall into his lap again. He hadn’t ever expected her. 

As Loki swallowed the last of the bread, he forced himself to look at her again. She was still huddled against the wall, illuminated by the dim lantern light from the hallway and shivering in the cold dungeon like a scared little child. He was flabbergasted that she was still here, that they’d bothered bringing her back after being caught during an escape attempt. And he couldn’t help but hate himself, because the old Loki could have figured out why that was a very long time ago. 

Next to her, the bowl of porridge sat on the floor, mostly untouched and definitely not enjoyed. Her expression was sullen as she stared off into the distance, and her limbs were folded around herself as she retreated deeper inward. It almost made him feel…something. 

Of what exactly, Loki wasn’t quite sure; the feeling was old and familiar, something that was long lost while never really being understood in the first place. He told himself that the feeling was irrelevant, because it was just the mystery he found equal parts infuriating and intriguing. He just needed a bit more time than usual to settle the question marks, and then he could finally return to the blissful void of apathy. 

And maybe she wasn’t lying when she claimed to not know who Anathema was, but he didn’t believe for a moment that she had no idea why the guards were so interested in her. Either she had something of theirs, or she knew some mysterious piece of information they didn’t yet - but they were obviously willing to play the long game in order to acquire it, and that couldn’t have been for nothing. 

Perhaps it had something to do with the gem dangling from her necklace. Loki had seen her touching it, frequently and absentmindedly, running her slender fingers over the deep blue stone during stressed and quiet moments like now. Clearly it meant a lot to her; someone who loved her had given it to her. Someone she loved back, someone she probably missed dearly…

As he started to wonder if anyone was out there looking for her, Loki realized he was staring and quickly averted his eyes. They landed once again upon the bowl of uneaten porridge next to her, and a new form of discomfort wove itself between the muscles of his shoulders and neck. It wrapped around his nerve-endings, stinging the open and frayed tendrils that had been worn bare from the pain of still being alive. 

He was quite vulnerable existing like this, even though he knew she couldn’t see him hiding in the shadows. That she didn’t know what he was thinking, or where he was looking. That she was unaware of the fleeting relief that poured into his veins when she was brought back to the cell alive, or his shame at feeling anything that had immediately replaced it. 

Loki had been flippant when she was initially brought in here. He was angry the first time she tried to share a meal with him. And then he was conflicted, at best, when she was dragged back in the second time. This paltry range of emotions was far more than he was previously used to; he felt like he was drowning in it, like it was slowly collapsing his airways and squeezing out every last ounce of oxygen from his lungs. 

Because there was only one person on this planet who knew his name. A single individual, throughout all of space and time, knew where he was. She was the sole witness to his current existence, and he’d never felt more uncomfortable or on display than here and now. She had met him at his worst, in his ultimate moment of triumph when he’d finally been able to remove himself from any and all equations, from every problem that ever needed solving, and he absolutely hated that. 

Loki thought he’d finally accounted for everything when he had stepped through the Time Door and into this dungeon. He thought he’d finally fixed the issue, himself, for literally everyone - and then this tiny little variable had shown up so unexpectedly to completely ruin it for him. 

He should have been angrier about it. He should have been furious and seething and shaking with rage over this egregious betrayal of the universe. Being alone had been the whole point, keeping everyone safe from him had been his only intention, seeking protection from the pain of both betrayal and being betrayed was all that Loki had left. Why wasn’t he allowed that meager peace of mind? 

Damnation clung to Loki like a frightened child clung to his mother’s skirts, trembling in the dark and begging for acknowledgement of its traumatized state. It lurked around every corner and it haunted every shadow, constantly weeping and whimpering and howling out its anguish to cruel and uncaring souls. It was always there, lingering in the corner of his eye, reminding him of just how helpless and useless he was. That he should just give up. That he should just end it already. 

But sometimes, the damnation would transform into something far more sinister, into the tall, skulking form of a cerulean demon. Hanging over his shoulder and digging its claws into his neck, the demon would spit cruel maledictions into his ear. Didn’t Loki know that everyone around him was already doomed? Wouldn’t it be kinder to just kill them now, rather than waiting for him to ruin their life and then cruelly and inevitably take it from them?  

Hiding in the dungeon was the only reasonable compromise between the frightened child and the viscous demon warring in his mind. If only he had stuck with that plan, if only he hadn’t revealed that someone else was alive in the cell with her, then maybe he wouldn’t be in this mess right now. 

Regret, his oldest and only friend, wouldn’t be blaring its horn and sounding the alarm bells and crying out for solace. So why did it bother him so much now that she wasn’t eating? 

Loki shifted uncomfortably on the stone floor, weighing the options in his mind. The regret of initially engaging with this woman didn’t mean he couldn’t change tactics; and if she wasn’t eating, then it wouldn’t be too much longer until he was on his own again. That had been his initial plan, and there was no reason he couldn’t return to that now. Wasn’t being alone all he ever wanted? 

“You should finish your meal. There’s no telling how long it’ll be before they bring another…” The words felt like acid on Loki’s tongue, dripping down his throat to eat away at his insides. He hoped they had come out as bluntly as he’d intended, but in reality, it just sounded like something his mother would have said. 

This time, the woman didn’t shudder when he finally broke the tense silence. She didn’t even react at all, other than to sigh heavily and respond in a low and flattened tone. “What’s the point…?” 

“Well, clearly they’d prefer you to be alive, for whatever reason…” Loki’s jaw tensed as he paused, struggling to understand why he was even bothering. “Even if they bring food on an irregular basis, it’s still more than anyone else gets…”

“Maybe the only reason they want me alive is so they can continue mocking and hurting me.”

That was a more difficult point to contend with; perhaps the guards had just grown weary of the simple and mundane murders, and they’d decided to go with something more entertaining this time. What if there wasn’t a more complicated explanation for the guards' motivations? What if he was searching for logic that didn’t even exist?

Loki stifled another yawn as he leaned back against the stone wall, raking his fingers through tangled curls that were just as chaotic as his thoughts. There had to be something he was missing while attempting to put this puzzle together. “So what did the guards say when they caught you escaping?”  

The woman let out a heavy exhale, and her tone shifted into a more sarcastic tone. “Oh, normal things like what are you doing out of your cell?, and no one’s coming to rescue you. Typical kidnapper things, you know…” 

Loki couldn’t help but roll his eyes at her nonchalant answers, but what else was he expecting? He was beginning to wonder if it was even worth putting this much effort into avoiding sleep. Nothing else in his life prior to meeting her had been easy, so why was he expecting this to go smoothly? 

“Actually, the guard did say something strange before knocking me out…” The woman trailed off, pausing as she furrowed her brow. 

Loki cleared his throat as he looked towards her again. “Strange how?” 

“Maxine - or Nulan, whichever one it was…They caught me upstairs in their private quarters. Just before attacking me, they said what is gone…may never return.” The woman pulled her lower lip between her teeth as she recalled the memory. “I’ve never heard it before, and I have no idea what it means…”

What is gone…may never return. Loki turned the phrase backward and forward in his mind, trying to find its place in this absolutely confounding puzzle. But he’d never heard anyone say anything even remotely close to it, so there was nowhere for it to go. The phrase’s sentiment, however, he understood perfectly well.

“It was probably just a threat, or a taunt…” she continued with a dismissive shake of her head. “They were just mocking me, for losing everything…”

“Or it’s a prayer. A desperate request, for some kind of reprieve…” Loki murmured in reply. He didn’t want to think about whether anyone had ever hoped for the same thing after he’d finally walked away, but he was positive that they had. And he hadn’t meant for his interpretation to sound so melancholy, but as his gaze caught the woman’s matching expression, he could feel her understanding of his meaning. Loki hated that. 

She must have sensed that as well, because she quickly forced a false smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “No…surely they must have been talking about me losing my boots.”

Her smile faded just as quickly as it had appeared, shifting into a grimace as a violent shiver shuddered over the limbs she struggled to pull close enough. She breathed out a heavy sigh and lowered her forehead to her knees with another tremble, and for once, Loki was grateful for the Jotun physiology keeping him relatively comfortable. But the woman didn’t share the same luxury of such a curse, and she was clearly suffering in these dank and grim conditions. 

Loki turned his attention towards his fingers, twitching and fidgeting restlessly in his lap. This particular guilt was both new and unwelcome, like the haunting of fresh ghosts he thought he’d finally manage to not brutally murder for once. It wasn’t directly his fault she was here, that she was suffering. She was a complete stranger, after all, and this couldn’t have been his problem, or his responsibility. 

But as Loki lifted his gaze again, carefully moving his eyes to avoid looking upon her once more, he caught a glimpse of the woman’s forgotten boots in the shadows, the ones carelessly stripped away while the guards were searching her the night before. 

He recalled one of the first lessons Odin had explained about ruling a kingdom, that sometimes tact and finesse were far more effective than blades or might. Perhaps if Loki was kind instead of harsh, and if he returned the boots to the frozen woman, then she might help alleviate the nagging questions he still had and allow him to fight off sleep for just a little bit longer. 

His brow furrowed, and he swallowed hard as he realized this was the least he could do for the both of them. It wasn’t much, but it felt like chopping off a limb when he cleared his throat and forced himself to speak again. “Your, um…boots are in here. They might help you with the…cold.”

The woman’s head popped back up, and her eyes narrowed as she scanned for them in the darkness. “Where are they? I don’t - ” she replied, clumsily attempting to push herself upright, obviously eager to get them back on as soon as possible. 

Loki felt an odd sense of duty, one that had been buried deep underneath the many eons of pain, and it compelled him to act before he had the chance to second-guess himself. He moved slowly, shifting his weight onto his hip, and extended his arm out. His fingers were just long enough to barely grasp the black leather pull loops, to drag them closer and then place them within her reach while maintaining a safe distance, and without the need for him to stand.

A faint smile crossed her lips as she stretched to pull them closer. “Thank you so much, Loki.” 

He couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact anymore; it was hard enough to listen to the bewildered gratitude in her voice. His every movement had stayed within the safe confines of the shadows, and he imagined that she saw her boots reappearing as if from the loving aid of a benevolent god, of someone else who was capable of caring. 

“It was nothing,” he told them both. 

He had fully intended to return his attention back inward, but he found himself distracted by the woman as she shifted on the floor. Curling and stretching her limbs, gracelessly attempting to pull a boot back on with a single hand, and then reluctantly, with both hands. She let out a gasping whimper as she tried to extend out her left arm, and Loki noticed her fingers trembling as she tried to push through the pain. 

Obligation flared along his spine again, but this time, Loki questioned it. A childhood memory surfaced, of when his father would return home from war, bruised and exhausted and weary, and Loki would rush to his side, eager to help with removing his armor and assist in any way he could. He thought maybe if he proved himself useful, eager and determined, like his older brother was, then Odin might finally give him a chance to fight alongside him. 

But even though his seidr had been well-advanced for his age, his father had always refused to bring Loki along, despite never leaving home without Thor. Odin had said that Loki wasn’t ready yet, that he wasn’t strong enough, that it was too dangerous for a little boy to be out on the field and surrounded by their mortal enemies. 

“Such a young prince falling into the hands of Asgard’s opponents could prove disastrous to the realms,” his father had said, even though that fear had never stopped him from bringing Thor into battle. It wasn’t until much later that Loki realized the truth, that the only real use he had wasn’t needed back then - not until the direst of circumstances forced his father’s ultimate and final hand. 

The woman let out a sharp groan, bringing Loki back to the present. She had collapsed back against the wall, sniffling and brushing the messy strands of crimson hair away from her face. “Loki, I’m so sorry…but can you please…?” 

His eyes widened, and hers were full of tears. Her cheeks reddened, and her lower lip trembled as she spoke with a cracked voice. “Please help me? I’m so cold, and I can’t…I can’t get these back on…” 

It wasn’t like the cold, calculating demands he was previously used to, and Loki realized that it pained her to ask like this. She wasn’t trying to get anything out of him, she wasn’t manipulating her way into something more than she deserved, or trying to get him to commit atrocities in her name. 

It wasn’t a game or a trick designed to be laughed at later with her friends; she genuinely just needed his help. But the problem was that this kind of assistance not only required him to vacate the shadows, to come closer and share the same air as her - it necessitated physical touch. Loki was sure he couldn’t handle that. 

The muscles in his fingers articulated of their own accord, separating and curling into just the right place to summon and concentrate his seidr, intent on disassembling the atoms that made up the woman’s boots and reassembling them back where they belonged. 

A suitable compromise, Loki believed, except that absolutely nothing happened. The warmth that normally accompanied his magic was nowhere to be found, that familiar connection to the past and the present, to his mother, wasn’t opening its loving arms to welcome him back home - and that was when he finally remembered. 

Loki’s seidr was dead, because he was supposed to be dead. 

He’d forsaken his magic as soon as he’d arrived here. Once he willingly stepped through the Time Door and into this dungeon, once he’d realized that the first thing this newly-freed universe had done was trap him yet again, he decided that this time it was really meant to be. 

So he didn’t bother fighting it, and he willingly let go of the tendrils of seidr he had once clung so tightly to. He didn’t deserve the honor of wielding it, not after what he’d done in New York. And what use would that magic have been to the hollowed-out shell of a person he was now? What good could he have possibly done with it anyway?

“Loki?”

Once again, the woman’s quiet voice refocused his attention. Her expression had fallen even further during his silent brooding, and she was staring woefully into the dark, desperately hoping to see him finally coming to her aid. A deep sense of dread rose up within his chest, thick and impenetrable, oozing between his ribs to singe and suffocate his lungs like molten lava. 

Loki didn’t know what to do, and yet, he moved anyway. Pressing his palms flat against the stone floor, he bent his knees and carefully pushed himself upright. His joints cracked and popped, his muscles were stiff and sluggish as he slid one foot forward, and the belt around his waist was far looser than when he’d initially put it on. 

Taking another step closer, his mind suddenly dizzied, and his body began to sway dangerously from the juxtaposition of pushing himself forward while he’d been wasting away. He quickly grabbed onto the wall with a sharp gasp, trying to steady himself as his legs tingled themselves awake. 

“Loki…are you alright?” the woman murmured, her brow furrowing with concern. 

“I’m fine, it’s just - ” Loki sighed heavily, his heart pounding and muscles trembling. “I’m just not used to…standing.” 

Loki closed his eyes and leaned against the wall for a moment, willing his body back into operating under his own control. But despite his best efforts, weariness and exhaustion were still permanently at the helm, relentlessly steering him back towards collapsing and passing out again. 

“It’s alright. Take your time…”

Loki’s eyes snapped back open, painfully aware that she was still watching him closely, and he did everything he could to both avoid her gaze and her reassurance. Nothing about this was alright, and he could hear his father’s chastising voice from beyond the stars, criticizing him for allowing enervation to consume him - even though that was the only way to keep himself out of trouble. 

His eyes flitted across the dungeon cell, feverishly taking in the stone walls and steel bars of the door, then out to the flickering lantern light of the hallway. Loki had never even bothered to take a good look at his coffin before committing to staying in it for all eternity, but from this elevation, he could clearly examine the cuts that made up the large slabs of the walls and floor. Meticulous, flawless, precise - too perfect to have been sliced by hand. 

His gaze moved to the cream-colored candlestick suspended within the single lantern in the hallway, evenly melted away and without a single speck of soot upon the glass encasing it. From there, he could make out the grooves carved by the steel bars into the doorway’s arch as it swung open and closed, and the streaked and dark stains, smudged against the grayed and leadened floor, leading from the hallway back into their cell. 

The woman’s blood, he assumed, and Loki’s hands clenched into fists. His throat tightened, and the slightest hint of outrage began to reluctantly wake from its slumber. 

Forcing the feeling away, Loki finally closed the distance and carefully crouched in front of the woman; only then did he let her be the focus of his attention. Loose and uneven strands of crimson had been pulled free from the long, disheveled braid nestled untidily over her shoulder;her skin was wan and pallid, and her lips were tinted with the faintest hint of blue. 

Dried blood had smeared on her ear, her neck, the lengths of her hair and along her cheek. It was everywhere, mixed with the dirt and muck from the floor, coating the corners of her cracked lips and the freckles that dotted her cheekbone. The fact that the blood was dried, meaning the original wound was at the very least no longer actively bleeding, did nothing to make him feel better. 

Loki lowered one knee down to the floor, precariously settling his weight onto one ankle, and the woman’s attention was now entirely fixed on her boots. She swallowed nervously, and Loki silently agreed with the sentiment. How long had it been since he’d touched another person? Did he even remember how to be gentle? How to not contaminate? 

Moving cautiously, he took a boot into his grasp, threading his fingers between the loops and slowly pulling to loosen its laces. While he worked, he focused on the soft leather: its scent was herbal, earthy, and with just the barest suggestion of sweetness. Intricate designs, swirls and constellations and rays of light emanating from an overly-stylized sun were stitched into the leather, extending from the collar and flowing down way past the ankle. 

Soft, pliable and shiny, the leather still showed signs of its latest polish, applied with a healthy dose of high-quality wax, from underneath the layers of grim. The boots had been methodically cared for, regularly and recently, and probably not too long before the woman found herself in custody of the mysterious guards. Loki found himself curious about the circumstances of her capture. 

Stained in the same shade of night as the leathers covering her legs, they blended seamlessly together with the rest of her clothing, from the thin stockings on her feet to the chipped lacquer on her fingernails. Everything was the exact same color, save for the thin, flowing emerald tunic that had long since come untucked, and the gem that hung from her neck. 

And everything she wore was undoubtedly expensive, most likely customized for this particular owner, and she had obviously not dressed for being locked inside a damp and grimy dungeon. At best, she was prepared for a pleasant walk through the woods on a mildly chilly evening; Loki tried not to think about it too much. 

Out of his peripheral vision, Loki could see the woman stealing glances up at him. She watched him carefully, her sea green eyes shifting cautiously between his face, his hands, and the boot he was unlacing - obviously examining and judging the hideous monster whose help she had no choice but to accept. 

Loki began to feel self-conscious. There was no doubt that his own appearance wasn’t any better than her own at the moment; in fact, he was sure it was much, much worse. Dark and unkempt curls hung way past his shoulders like sinister snakes. The skin on his hands was sullen and pallor, shifting dangerously close to bluish gray, and he had no idea if his eyes had begun to drift back into their original shade of ruby-red or not. He promised himself that this would be the only time she ever saw his face up close. 

When he could no longer justify stalling with the laces, he cleared his throat, and forced his fingers to tap the underside of her leg; a featherlight touch that could have been easily missed if one hadn’t been expecting it. But the woman again mercifully sensed his meaning, and she positioned the appropriate foot for him to slide the boot on. 

Too well, Loki noticed, as he pulled the collar up to settle around her calf; she was exceptionally practiced at having others put footwear on her - at tensing the right muscles at just the right moment, and extending the leg with just enough force to seat the foot comfortably against the insole. 

“Sorry about this…” she mumbled as Loki pulled the laces tight and began looping them back and forth around the hooks. “Although, this is probably the most exciting thing you’ve done in a while, huh?” 

She was trying to lighten the mood, to distract from the previous awkwardness of such close quarters. Loki’s response was flat and measured, his attention focused on tying instead of talking. “Like I said - it’s nothing.” 

A nervous silence followed, one that was far more uncomfortable than the awkwardness. Loki hadn’t meant to be so dismissive, and perhaps he’d been far too frigid for someone who was supposed to be helping her. When he finished the final loop, he cleared his throat again and forced himself to look up again. 

“Is that…too tight for you?” he murmured softly. 

The woman managed a weak smile as she flexed her ankle. “No. It feels fine.” 

Loki noted that her pupils dilated ever so slightly when she met his gaze, and he took that as a good sign that her head injury wasn’t a completely serious one. He wasn’t sure why he was noting that, but nonetheless, he had, and he didn’t have the energy to start questioning it. Instead, he busied himself with picking up the other boot and threading his fingers underneath its laces like he’d done with the first. 

“Is this all I have left? Just waiting in this cell to die?” 

Her voice had taken on a somber, more sorrowful tone now; apparently open anguish was much easier for her than polite small-talk, and if she hadn’t been so exhausted, Loki would have guessed there would have been more than a tear or two accompanying her questions. He wasn’t sure how to answer her; bringing up the fact that the other prisoners before her had never lasted more than a day or two, or the fact that they were never returned once removed from their cells, probably wasn’t going to help her mood very much. 

“At least they’re leaving you alone for the most part,” Loki answered, lightly tapping his fingers underneath her other leg for the placement of its boot. “Be thankful for relative peace.” 

The woman sighed heavily as she cooperated. “Relative peace. That’s all I have to look forward to?” 

“For some, that’s all they’ve ever wanted,” Loki said absentmindedly. “They’d kill for it, and others willingly die in its pursuit…”

The woman’s eyebrows raised in troubled concern, and Loki tried to ignore it. He couldn’t understand why he was like this, either speaking too familiarly with the woman, or far too flippantly. He was out of practice when it came to any sort of normal conversation, but he didn’t want to be accustomed to it again. In the end, she was just a temporary distraction, and he wasn’t supposed to even exist at all. 

“That’s very enlightened, coming from someone who has nightmares every time he closes his eyes…” the woman replied as he finished tying the laces on the other boot. She flexed that ankle, and then nodded her approval while pulling her knees back against her chest. 

Loki’s brow furrowed as he met her gaze once more. Her eyes were wide and open, appearing to be without a single shred of judgment, only empathy. Loki couldn’t help but scrutinize her for that. If she only knew how little he deserved kindness, and he was irritated that she’d noticed how bad his nightmares were at all. He’d rather have not known that his weakness was on complete display, and thus, beyond his complete control. 

Slowly pushing himself back up to standing, grateful that the task and its requisite close proximity were finally over, Loki’s fingertips trailed along the cold stone as he backed into the shadows again. But lethargy was creeping back in, along with the ever-present unsettled and restless energy, and when Loki returned to sitting, he wasn’t quite as far into the dark as he had been before. 

“You know, it may help your nightmares to talk about them,” the woman suggested cautiously. “Perhaps unburdening yourself a little would be a good thing…” 

Loki grimaced. Of all the ways she could have worded it, he wished it hadn’t been in that specific way. As it were, various burdens of all sorts were already going to haunt him until the end of time, it seemed, and he preferred not to be reminded of the purposes initially set upon him by Thanos. And even if he wanted to, where should he begin? 

He still didn’t quite understand what exactly had happened to him on Knowhere; that entire year was just a chaotic haze of torture and manipulation, through both physical and psychological means, and it was impossible for him to decipher what was real and what was a lie. Even now, he couldn’t even recall the exact circumstances that led to his descent from the Bifrost and into Thanos’ control. 

Sometimes, he could clearly remember the decision to let go of Gungnir and fall into the abyss; other times, he was absolutely convinced that his brother had pushed him in a jealous rage, furious that Loki’s short tenure as King had proved far more successful than any longer one Thor could have ever managed. 

Either way, the fall had resulted in him becoming Thanos’ prisoner, and then later, as a member of the Black Order - but only after they’d finally conceded that physical torture was never going to work on the body of a Frost Giant, on an Asgardian prince raised as a warrior, or on a powerful sorcerer who already had extremely complicated feelings about being alive in the first place. 

But once they realized that he just wanted somewhere to belong, they finally started to see real progress, and the emotional manipulation that followed was probably more effective than they could have ever hoped for. It was so very easy to muddy the rough waters of Loki’s psyche thanks to the Chitauri Scepter and his tremendous heartbreak - a kind word here, a clever lie there, and nothing but speeches about revenge and betrayals, destinies and purposes, salvation and redemption, and scorned Kings and their disgraced sons. 

After Loki had been welcomed into the fold, Thanos explained his need for the Tesseract; if Loki acquired it, then he would be granted an army to help take Midgard by as excessive and violent force as he deemed necessary. The God of Mischief already knew that he wanted to be as destructive as possible - to both completely cripple his brother’s fondness for the pathetic humans, and to show Odin that he would settle for being a terrifying leader if he wasn’t permitted to be a good one. 

His idea for retrieving the Tesseract had been a clever one; so clever that Loki wasn’t surprised that Thanos or the Black Order hadn’t ever considered it before. But getting to suggest it meant that his new Master was immediately pleased with his usefulness, something that had rarely happened with his previous keeper, and Loki was so grateful for the opportunity to satisfy. 

Out of the six Infinity Stones, the Space Stone was unique in that it could generate massive amounts of self-sustaining energy. Its power signature was incredibly easy to track, and it didn’t take long for Loki to determine the Tesseract’s location inside the S.H.I.E.L.D. research facility. Under Fury’s careful and watchful eye, the mortals were studying its capabilities for power production, no doubt to be used in some kind of advanced weapons manufacture instead of something that could actually be used to help mankind. 

A stereotypically short-sighted action, one that would soon be their downfall, because none of those weapons would ever be able to stop him from completing his task. Had they realized the stone’s true potential, as Loki had, then perhaps the humans might have fared better during his invasion.

Because he knew something that apparently no one else did, something he now prayed that no one else would ever be able to figure out. Loki was in the unusual position of understanding exactly how the Bifrost had operated, of how it could easily send and receive anything from across the galaxies with frightening and pinpoint accuracy. As a child, he was fascinated by the Bifrost, and more than once Heimdall had to stop him from attempting to disassemble it while searching for the details of its inner workings. 

Once informed of her son’s unyielding curiosities, his mother had patiently redirected that energy towards Asgard’s massive libraries. There, he spent many late nights pouring over the texts and histories of the magnificent Bifrost. Once he’d devoured all he could from words, he then spent his time exploring the Realm and looking for means of travel that didn’t involve going to the Bifrost at all. 

And thanks to the Mad Titan’s relentless and universal conquest in search of the stones, Loki had access to incalculable amounts of lore, research and history that had been stolen from countless cultures and societies. He spent months buried in books and manuscripts, performing calculations and practicing his seidr, searching desperately for the perfect combination of science and magic to get him what he needed. 

All of that, when combined with his extensive knowledge of the Bifrost, allowed Loki to realize that all he needed was a power-source. It must have been fate and its impeccable sense of humor, because the Space Stone could be the engine, and the Tesseract was going to be the gateway - a terrible, incredible bridge between where you were, and where you desperately wanted to be. 

For Loki, the Tesseract was going to deliver him to vengeance, respect, authority and glory - in a way that no one would be able to undo once he finally got it. His brother, his father, the entire Nine Realms and beyond, all of them would be powerless to stop him once he figured out how to open the Tesseract’s portal from the other side. 

Returning to his research with a new sense of delirium, he gave up on sleep, and food, and his sanity while he searched for the answer. His cheeks became hollow, his eyes were sunken deep into his skull, and his skin grew weak and frail. His nerves were on the verge of total disintegration, his heart ached and his mind was hazy. 

His every waking thought was consumed by the Tesseract, and on the rare occasion that he actually passed out, so were his nightmares. He became too lost to even carry on a conversation; all he could manage were grunts and groans and strange approximations of the word “Tesseract”. Every part of himself, anything that had once been Loki, had all but slipped away. 

But occasionally, Loki would come back to himself. He would look down at his hands in horror, and he wouldn’t understand where he was or how he got there. While screaming and lashing out, the one called Ebony Maw would preach about balance, about salvation and judgment and how Loki was destined to assist the Great Titan in saving all of life, by ending half of it. He was instructed to be grateful for being allowed to take part in it.

But it didn’t make any sense, and Loki tried so hard to resist, to fight them off, to scramble to the exit and free himself, to warn someone of the terrible thing that was coming. Then, something would happen, something would touch him, and his mind would cloud back over with rage and madness. The dangerous craving for the Tesseract would return tenfold, and then he would be back on task, more eager than ever to please. 

After a quick journey through the minds of the men known as Selvig and Barton, Loki finally had everything he needed to complete his sacred mission. The astrophysicist filled in the last remaining gaps about the Tesseract’s functionalities, and the archer revealed information about S.H.I.E.L.D.'s security protocols - how many personnel were on site, what types of weapons they had, where they’d been trained. The details of every file stored on their secret servers, every individual’s personal histories - including that of the beings once considered to join the so-called Avengers, the ones that might be called upon to stop him. 

On his first attempt, Loki succeeded in opening the Tesseract’s portal. One moment, he was standing on Thanos’ ship, and the next, he was inside the research facility, shrouded within a haze of smoke and mania. By the third second, he was ferociously attacking, moving and acting without consideration for the stealth or secrecy he’d been trained with as a child. He didn’t even bother dodging the humans’ pathetic projectiles; instead, he focused on murdering the ones he had already deemed useless to his cause, and using the Sceptre to convert the ones that were worthy of it

Nor did he bother mincing words with Fury as the Director stalled for time, not even the ones ripped directly from Ebony Maw’s impassioned and self-important speeches. Loki already knew how unstable the gateway was, and that was by design. During his maniacal studies, he had determined how best to sustain the portal’s opening for safe and easy passage - first, in order to allow entry for the Chitauri forces, and then to facilitate easy travel for Thanos to find the rest of the stones later on. 

Loki’s first act of murder had been intentionally not stabilizing the portal as it opened inside the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility; he had wanted the structure to collapse in a stunning display of destruction. Whether it was to be an ominous warning for what he was about to do, or if it was to serve as a call to action for the only ones who could have prevented him from succeeding, he still wasn’t quite sure. 

Either way, he ultimately failed in the only way that had mattered. Loki didn’t achieve vengeance or respect or authority, and there was no victory or glory waiting for him after it was over. The Chitauri Forces were destroyed, the Tesseract was not handed over to Thanos per their agreement, and he’d made a great many vicious and unforgiving enemies that day. 

In the end, the only thing waiting for him was a prison cell on Asgard, and all he’d managed to do was to make everything worse. 

And presumably, after it was over, Thanos still had access to all of Loki’s research. Losing out on the Tesseract would have infuriated him and the Black Order; a minor inconvenience, sure, but it wouldn’t have hindered their quest in the slightest. Thanos still knew how to use the Tesseract because of him - and more importantly, he understood how to use it in the most destructive way possible. That was completely and entirely Loki’s fault, and he just hoped that Thanos was arrogant enough to keep that information to himself, that no one else would try and fail in the same catastrophic way that Loki had. 

Maybe the Tesseract wasn’t meant to be used as a gateway, and in doing so, Loki had ensured that he’d never get what he wanted, and that he’d lose what little he had left. All of that madness and frantic chaos and deliberate carnage had been for absolutely nothing. Maybe the Tesseract was cursed, and maybe, so was he. 

Because every single time Loki had come into contact with it, his life had taken a drastic and even more devastating turn for the worse. Attempting to acquire it for Thanos had broken him - mind, body, and soul; fleeing New York with it had landed him in the clutches of the TVA; and apparently, it had been his ultimate destiny to die while trying to keep it from the Mad Titan. 

The absolute last thing Loki ever wanted was to be reminded of the Tesseract - more than he wanted silence, or solitude, or to rot. And now this woman wanted to know what his nightmares were about? 

Even if he had made it to the prison cell on Asgard, he wasn’t planning to explain himself to anyone. What was he supposed to tell his brother, his mother, his father? That he’d been deceived? Were they going to believe that he’d fallen for someone else’s lies so easily, and without question? That the God of Mischief himself had been tricked, played for a fool and made to be the universe’s largest and most pathetic scapegoat?

No, trying to justify his actions would be a grave disservice to the innocent lives he’d taken, and telling the truth was next to impossible. Even just talking about the betrayal of his family would be too much for him to bear, and that was the only aspect of the entire thing that Loki had never, ever second-guessed. 

The woman continued stealing glances in his direction, from just a few feet away now. Still waiting for him to say something, anything, to help keep her mind distracted from her own plights. For the briefest of moments, he actually considered asking if she’d ever heard of the Tesseract, or the Infinity Stones. If she knew who Thanos was, if he’d ever been to this planet before…but as Loki fidgeted with his tie, running his fingers over the frayed and broken seams in the cloth, he knew the answer didn’t matter. 

The appropriate time to have asked that question would have been when he’d first arrived, back when the TemPad still had the power to take him some place else if need be. But now the TemPad was dead; he was trapped here, and the longer he could go without hearing about the Tesseract, the better. The longer he could go on in the blissful ignorance of relative peace, and without talking about himself, the easier this would be for everyone. 

“How did you wind up here anyway?” He winced as he spoke, hating himself for being more than a little curious about it. “I can’t imagine the guards asking you to come along nicely…”

The woman hesitated for a moment, no doubt replaying the events in her mind and wishing she had done something differently. Her fingers grasped the gem that hung from her neck, and she swallowed hard. “I was…taken from Tessaway, my home, in the middle of the night.” 

She paused, her eyes focused on something non-existent in the distance. “I don’t know how they made it past the sentries, but they…managed, somehow. They took me from my bed, while I slept…” 

Loki shook his head, trying to appear sympathetic. “You lived in a heavily guarded city. It must be a very dangerous place…”

“Tessaway isn’t a city,” she corrected, furrowing her brow as she looked over at him. “It’s the castle in Fayrest. You know, the capital city…?” 

He didn’t know any of that, of course, having never left this cell. The woman looked like she wanted to say more but was afraid to, and he couldn’t help but think about why she had seemed to imply before that no one was going to rescue her. “Wouldn’t someone from the castle have noticed your absence? Surely they have to be looking for you by now…” 

“No…” The woman shifted uncomfortably in place, her expression broken and forlorn. “No, I was just a servant. No one important enough to miss…” 

Loki had been studying her carefully ever since he’d realized her captors were going to keep her alive for much longer than they had the others. Her movements were elegant and refined, her clothing and jewelry expensive and customized, her speech graceful and enchanting; the kind of charming that could only come from years of practice. He didn’t believe for a second that she was just a servant working in a castle. 

But she was also clearly in a tremendous amount of pain, and for whatever reason, was keeping the origins of her birth a secret. Loki wondered what might have happened to him if he had been given that luxury, if he hadn’t been the only one to not know the truth about himself. 

“Ah, a servant,” he replied, trying to lighten the mood a little. His unpracticed lips curved into a forced and lazy grin. “That certainly explains why you’re so concerned about my well-being…” 

The woman’s eyebrows raised in amusement, and she tilted her head curiously as if taking his comment as a challenge. “What’s the matter? Are you not used to someone worrying about your well-being?” 

Loki’s jaw tensed; perhaps he hadn’t been behaving as opaquely as he hoped, and he hated that she could see through him just as well as he could through her. He glanced over, and decided to provoke her right back. “Well, I’m sure they’ll miss you at the castle eventually. Like when there’s pots that need washing, or linens that need changing?” 

“Yes, yes, that’s very funny…” she replied, rolling her eyes. “I get it, the thing about servants is that no one knows your name until something you normally do suddenly isn’t being done anymore…” 

The woman turned, and she met his gaze with a considering and dissecting one of her own. “Like you - you don’t need anything from me, so why would you ever bother learning my name?” 

From just a few feet away, the woman stared deep into his soul, tugging at the strings that still held him upright and all but questioning if they were even necessary. He waited until she looked away to furrow his brow again, because while she was right about him not needing anything from her, she was surely mistaken about the other half of her point.

Because he did actually know her name; it was the first new name he’d learned in such a very long time, and he thought it suited her quite well, all things considered. But he had been trying to avoid acknowledging it, not wanting it to mean something more than what it was. 

It was just a name, after all; a series of specific vocalizations designed to get her attention. Saying it out loud didn’t mean that they were friends, or that they were even important to each other. It wouldn’t bind them in any way, or obligate him to care. But if that were true, then why did he have such a problem with saying it? 

Loki could feel a nervous energy creeping relentlessly up his spine again. He wished it would stop receding, that it would stay put, because the constant shifting between relaxing and stressing was completely wearing him out. He told himself he just needed to say it out loud and get it over with, before he could start second-guessing and talk himself out of it again - especially now that she had noticed his careful avoidance of her name. 

“What kind of servant knows how to fight with a staff anyway?” Loki asked, affecting an innocent and casual tone. “I guess servants named Oliviette do…” 

After he answered his own question, Loki looked towards her again, and Oliviette was already smiling back at him; it was a bleary and quiet acknowledgement, but the sentiment was definitely noteworthy. For the first time since they’d met, he could see the dimples in her cheeks, and it was impossible to miss the way her eyes lit up with mirth, or how her lips pursed before she finally responded. 

“What? Am I not allowed to have hobbies outside of work?” 

Loki struggled to not return her smile. He almost felt a sense of appreciation for her snark and the much-needed diversion from the constant aching in his chest. It was only then that he remembered that this was supposed to be a temporary distraction; he couldn’t afford to spend needless energy that didn’t directly involve finding out why the guards were keeping Oliviette alive for this long. 

Keeping a safe distance was paramount, his new glorious purpose. Trust was for children and dogs, wasn’t that how he’d put it to Mobius during their first meeting? As long as he stayed here, keeping himself isolated and protected, then he couldn’t ever be tricked into being someone else’s attack dog ever again. He couldn’t ever hurt anyone again. 

Besides, it was highly implausible that her life would end in any way other than tragically. Loki’d already had quite enough of that - and would it be worth getting close to her, even if it didn’t? 

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

Click here to be added to my Loki fic tag list! 💚

Previous Chapter / TLTGYA Masterlist / A03 Link / Next Chapter

[agustdiv1ne]

Hii, can I request a Soobin + The Avengers (first movie) + Fluff and Suggestive.

Btw, congrats for your achievement ❤️❤️❤️

NOW SHOWING...

pairing: choi soobin x fem!reader

genre: fluff, suggestive

wc: 1.7k

details + warnings: mdni, soobin + fem!reader don't represent any particular characters (though some references are made), a lil makeout sesh 😵‍💫

note: thank you!! ♡♡

you can't sleep. 

not that you ever slept much in the first place, but since joining s.h.i.e.l.d. in their efforts of recovering the tesseract and locating kai's sister who happens to be in possession of it — even worse, kai's sister who aims to take over the planet with it — you've all but given up on proper rest. this mission is far bigger than yourself, far bigger than anyone on your ragtag team of (what you guess you could call) superheroes, for that matter. you may be a trained assassin and a master of close-range combat, but you cannot deny the traces of fear that gnaw at your nerves.

sitting up in your bed, you rub at your eyes until they feel raw. your room is too warm to be comfortable, and all you can think about is the sheer amount of unpredictability that plagues this situation. you're used to set dates, locations, people to eliminate…this situation entails none of those things. no one knows where bahiyyih is, no one knows where the tesseract is, and no one has a goddamn clue what she's planning. your chest tightens for a moment. breathe. breathe.

you strip the covers from your body once your eyes blink back into focus, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. the floor is cool beneath the soles of your feet as you move to stand; the sensation brings you back to yourself, bars your mind from spiraling any further. you need to get out of this room right now. with haste, you slip a pair of slides on and make your way out of your room. the helicarrier is eerily quiet as you walk down the sprawling hallways, the only sounds reaching your ears being the wind rushing by and the rumbling of the aircraft carrier's turbines. dim lights illuminate your path and create ominous shadows along the walls; you pay them little mind — you'd know if someone was following you. your shoes make little noise against the walkway, your featherlight steps a result of your intensive training. your heartbeat slowly returns to normal. 

eventually, the hallway leads to a large room, a lookout platform lying opposite of where you stand. the windows jut out from the floor at an angle, supported by thick, floor-to-ceiling metal beams. you stride over to the platform, staring out at the clouds that rush by; far below, the ocean has opened its gaping maw, the darkness endless yet oddly comforting. 

you're unsure how long you stand there, vision blurred as you stare out at the nothingness, before your ears perk up at the sound of footsteps sounding from behind. they are trying to be quiet, you can tell, but they lack finesse. it causes you to immediately raise your guard. the footsteps slowly grow closer, and your muscles tense in response. they're right behind you now, a hand reaching out to grab your shoulder—

in a flash, you have them twisted the other way, one arm pinned between their shoulder blades and the other clasped in your other hand's unrelenting grip. your foot moves on autopilot as it kicks the back of their knee. their knees collide with the platform with a dull thump! 

“it’s me! it’s me!” the person whispers frantically, their unmistakably male tone bordering on panicked. it’s then that you recognize the platinum blond head of hair, the long limbs, a voice you know all too well…

soobin.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry,” you whisper back while you release his limbs. he stands, rubbing at where your fingers pressed a little too hard into his flesh with a soft “ow.” you level him with a raised eyebrow and downturned lips. “c’mon, it’s your fault. you shouldn’t have tried to sneak up on me.”

“yeah, i guess you’re right,” soobin sighs, rotating his shoulder with a pained wince. “jesus, remind me not to get on your bad side.”

this draws a chuckle from you. “what’re you doing up, anyway? it’s late.” 

“couldn’t sleep, so i decided to get out and patrol,” he simply replies. it’s then that you notice that he’s wearing a simplified, more casual version of his field uniform — a tight black tank top, tactical pants of a similar color and fit, and his normal pair of thick gloves adorning his hands. you realize that you’ve never seen his bare arms before, only ever through his suit. though his build is thin and lithe, you can see the defined muscles that push against the skin of his biceps. the sight causes your mouth to run dry. 

you’re feeling oddly bare in your sleep attire, your arms crossing over your chest. as your eyes meet his again, you find him staring at you, questions dancing his dark eyes. he continues, “y’know, i could ask you the same.”

“same reason as you, but my first thought wasn’t to patrol,” you laugh, refusing to let your eyes wander any more. “you work too hard.”

“ah, it’s nothing— force of habit, really,” he says, heart-shaped lips curving into a sheepish grin.

sure, you might be a little attracted to soobin, but you respect him more than anything. he didn't join this team just to flaunt his homemade tech like yeonjun, he is not here out of obligation like kai — rather, he's on this team because he wants to help people. his unrelenting drive to keep the world safe and lead your team to success is admirable, even if he does butt heads with yeonjun more often than not.

after a brief bout of silence, an idea pops into your head. your eyes trail back up to meet his own. “do you want to go spar, maybe?”

his eyes widen almost imperceptibly before his bunny-like smile returns, a teasing lilt to his following words. 

“as long as you promise to go easy on me.”

after a brief stop at your room so that you could change into more fight-appropriate clothing, you and soobin navigate the hallways to the on-board training center. you have only been here a few times since you arrived on the helicarrier, usually taking out your energy on one of the punching bags that line the perimeter of the mat. it's odd to know that you are about to spar with an actual person; soobin is the only one who has accepted your offer thus far.

the two of you are quick to begin after a bout of stretching. the moment you're done bumping fists in the middle of the ring, his leg swings out from behind him, aiming for your side. you roll out of the way, rising to your feet to his left.

“cheap move,” you grin, closing in while intercepting his fist. you struggle for a moment to hold his arm back; while you prize agility, he favors strength. he mirrors your expression. 

“just evening out the playing field.” his foot slips behind your ankle and pushes forward, but you slip out of the precarious position with ease.

the two of you go at it for awhile, exchanging punches and kicks, wearing each other down slowly — you're more evenly matched than he gave himself credit for. what you throw, he blocks, and when he swings, you easily sidestep out of the way, his limbs cutting through empty air. your stamina seems to trump his, however, his movements growing sloppier, more holes opening up in his defense.

like a machine, you exploit these weaknesses. the next time he throws a kick, you grab his calf and twist, his body rotating in the air before he crashes to the mat. the action knocks the breath from his lungs, and you take the opportunity to straddle his hips, your hands gathering his wrists and pinning them above his head.

“caught you,” you pant, a smirk playing on your lips as you lean over him, noses brushing against each other and mere centimeters separating your lips. it doesn’t take either of you long to realize just how close you are, frozen in place as you stare at each other in silence. 

it's unclear who leans in first, but your lips are suddenly enveloped by his. your grip on his wrists loosens, and he takes the opportunity to wrap large his hands around your waist, pulling you closer to him. you lean down more, deepening the kiss, allowing his tongue to slip into your mouth. you resist the urge to grind down against him, your mind growing foggy with a lack of oxygen when neither of you pull away.

eventually, you are the first to pull away, pressing him back down as he chases your lips. you're back to staring at each other now, but there's something…different in the way he looks back at you — lightly veiled need swirls in his irises. you release a breath against his cheek. his hands do not move from their position on your waist.

soobin breaks the silence, but he doesn’t meet your gaze. “is…this a bad time to admit that i kinda like you?”

though your heart pounds, you try to act as if you’re not on the verge of freaking out. “i wouldn’t say so, no,” you smile, stomach fluttering. “‘cause i kinda like you too.”

leaning up, he kisses you again, slower this time, savoring the sensation of your soft lips against his. you find yourselves smiling into each other's mouths, and you lose yourself in him, ignorant of the way his hands wander down to your hips. suddenly, he rolls you over, turning the tables on you as he pins your hands down.

“rule number one,” he whispers against your lips, pupils blown out as he towers over you. “never let your guard down.”

“and rule number two?” you tease, tone light and breathy.

one side of his lips quirks up. “hm, guess we’ll have to figure that one out together.”

he's back to kissing you soon after, sparring be damned.

3k event masterlist | masterlist

© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.

[strangesthirdeye]

Chapter 1: NEW BUDDIES!

✩*⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠*✩

"So! with what happened right now, is because you want to know about the Tesseract, eh? . Where did you get that thing?" you said fixing the bottom of the Tardis with a flamethrower.

Fire splatters began to spray all over the place. Good thing you're wearing safety goggles. This is the daily routine you make. Fix all the broken things and there are times when you upgrade something for future use. It can be said that every day you do repair work because you really can't sit still. There are dangers that can be said to always come with open arms. As if invited without the knowledge of the owner themselves. It's like you are a moving problem magnet. All the problems that exist will definitely be with you.

" Like I said, my cat swallowed that thing and threw it back up. " Fury said as he leaned against the Tardis barrier with his arms crossed over his chest.

"yeah I know, that. But, how can that thing exist?" you stopped your work and started to go upstairs, hand holding the flamethrower."How did it get to earth?"

You murmured before placing the flamethrower into a special crate at the bottom of the TARDIS control station then you crouched down and pulled your sonic screwdriver out of your pants pocket and pointed it at the wires coming out of the control station. The shrill sound of the sonic screwdriver began to be heard.

Fury looked at your face for a moment. Maybe think of a way to tell about it. Although it's a bit complicated to explain, it's not wrong if he wants to try. But, it's not easy for him to tell this to people he doesn't know very well. Not to mention people who just met a few minutes ago.

Fury sighed. " it's a long story. It's a bit complicated to tell. Too much drama. So, easy to tell, it started in the 1980s, project leader Wendy Lawson, who was in reality a Kree named Mar-Vell, used the Tesseract's energy to create the Light-Speed Engine in an attempt to end the Kree-Skrull War. She called it Project Pegasus. She died and the project was dissolved. But, in another time. Howard Stark fished that out of the ocean when he was looking for 'someone'. He thought that this Tesseract had countless energy. A powerful energy. That's something the world desperately needs. And because of that, we all plan to continue this study. This is what I know, so the story is a bit complicated. Very complicated. And the end, here it is now. In the hands of Loki."

(Don't mad at me.. I don't know how to tell this story. Honestly. This is what i found on the internet. If you don't understand, feel free to do your own research.. Quack)

You stopped working for a moment and looked at Fury's stern face. You then go back to work. The sonic screwdriver was turned on again and pointed at the wire that you were holding.

"So you want to say that the Tesseract has been on earth for a long time? It's impossible that such a powerful object can suddenly exist on earth. There must be another source that caused the existence of that thing." You said then put the mended wire back into place. And immediately, the slightly dimmed light slowly brightened.

Fury was silent for a moment. "If I knew how it existed, I wouldn't tell people I just met a few minutes ago. How can I trust you when you're not an alien who came to take the Tesseract?"

You frowned and turned your gaze to Fury. "For your information, I am indeed an Alien. Time Lord... Well.. Time Lady actually. And I didn't come here to take your Tesseract. I came here because I crashed after running away from a broken potato-headed aliens."

You sighed lightly then turned your gaze to the control screen and pressed a few buttons. You are tired of being misunderstood. Whatever you do, there must be people who are suspicious or distrustful. This always happens and causes you to get fed up with questions from people who have suspicious feelings towards you.

Fury pushed himself from where he was leaning. " you? an alien? If you are an alien, why do you look like a human."

You looked Fury up and down with sharp eyes. "Why are you the one who looks like Time Lord.?"

"sorry? What did you say?"

"Why are you looks like Time Lord? Easy, because, the Time Lord came first before the existence of humans like you, Pirate" you said with a tone of sarcasm before looking back at the screen.

Fury frowned in confusion. Probably thinking about what you said. Time Lord and human, there is so many difference. The difference is that Time Lord can fake their death with regeneration and they have two hearts. Humans do not have two hearts and regeneration and just die. Easy! Their bodies are the same but their stamina and strength are completely different.

" and what made you say that?" asked Fury.

"Because Time Lord has been living in this world for a long time before there was a planet called Earth. We've been here longer than you expected and we've seen how your life grows and shapes. From then until now. You're human, you're just the same, there's nothing different about you being on this planet. The feeling of curiosity and wanting to rule is in the heart of every human being. The feeling that is our own self didn't know it existed." you said as you waved your hands in the air."very different from a Time Lord, actually."

Fury glanced at you with slightly widened eyes. "So, you've been living in this world for a long time. So you know everything that happens on Earth. And what makes a Time Lord different from humans?"

You looked at Fury for a long time. Try to think of a sentence. "easy! Humans only live once and the Time Lord can fake their death with regeneration" and you walk away from the screen.

Fury looked at you in disbelief. Fury blinked a few times. "Regeneration? Like a lizard?"

You looked at Fury with a scowl. "Lizard? isn't there another example? why not a salamander.. a gecko.. it's cute" you walked around the Tardis.

"aren't they both the same"

"ahh, it looks like a lizard but they are a different species. And to answer your question, yes I regenerate but not like a lizard. It is different from the way a lizard regenerates. In the body of every Time Lord there will be one thing that allows us to cheat our deaths. So this thing has a limit and until the time it will end. Time Lords released massive amounts of a hormone called lindos in moments of extreme trauma, and it was this hormone which triggered regeneration. Newly regenerated Time Lords could be identified by elevated levels of lindos in their system. During regeneration, we will change some old cells to new cells as well as our physical and mental. What I mean by physical and mental change is that, if I have a serious or minor injury, the injury I suffer will automatically heal quickly and all that will remain is a scar. And mentally, most likely, after regeneration my behavior may change from good to rude or hyperactive or something else."You mumbled, trying to explain how regeneration happened to Fury who was still standing but his mouth was slightly open trying to digest your explanation.

You stopped babbling and looked at Fury. You tossed your Sonic Screwdriver into the air and it landed in your palm then you put it in the holster on your waist.

" So you understand?" you asked Fury.

"There's no way that shit can happen" said Fury trying to reject your statement just now. He is actually still doubtful about you so that's why he has a hard time believing what you say if it doesn't happen in front of his eyes.

'Does he want me to get injured and regenerate in front him?' You thought annoyingly while pressing several icons on the screen.

You shrugged and looked at the TARDIS screen. "hmm, it's up to you to believe it or not. At least I've explained how regeneration works"

The TARDIS lights then come on. "oh let him think first, Y/n. He's still hesitant to believe in something like this" Said the TARDIS.

Fury looked around alertly. Perhaps surprised that the TARDIS uttered his voice.

"Oh, I didn't say anything. It's up to him to believe it or not" you replied, your eyes never leaving the screen.

Fury walked towards you and stood by your side. His eyes looked around the TARDIS.

"it's talking" said Fury with a stutter but managed to hide it.

"oh yeah, that voice is the TARDIS. He's alive and not just a time machine. He has his own personality so I hope you understand if he's a little sarcastic" you replied with a big smile looking at Fury.

Fury nodded. "Have we arrived yet?"

You nodded quickly then pressed a few buttons on the controller and pulled the lever down. Maybe the brakes. The TARDIS rocked and jolted violently causing you and Fury to quickly grab something to latch on to.

You looked at Fury with wide eyes.

"well, the shaking was strong" you said before running towards the TARDIS door.

Fury then followed you carefully from behind. Your hand reached for the TARDIS doorknob and then you pulled the door open. Light from outside the TARDIS then entered the TARDIS and blinded you and Fury's eyes.

You blinked trying to adjust your eyes to the sunlight and so did Fury. After blinking your eyes a few times, you can clearly see what is outside. The atmosphere was busy with some workers wearing orange uniforms who were quite fit doing some work. There was also a flight jet that landed on the landing pad accompanied by several workers.  Some workers have repaired some jets and modified some jets on the side of the ship

You slowly walked out of the TARDIS. Your eyes are attracted by the view of the blue and wide ocean.

'it's like a navy ship' you think.

Fury then exited the TARDIS and looked around. He took a deep breath. You looked at Fury.

"well, I didn't even know you were the captain of a navy ship.. I mean you really look like a captain because.. you know?" you gestured your hand to your left eye and covered it with your palm as if mimicking the Fury eye patch .

Fury looked at you sharply and without uttering any words from his mouth, you awkwardly lowered your hand with an uncomfortable face. Fury then walked past you with a serious aura.

"this is a HELICARRIER. belonging to SHIELD. Well, it does look like a navy ship but it's more than that" said Fury to you who were still standing in front of the TARDIS.

You nodded in understanding and tried to follow Fury but were stopped by several agents holding guns at you. You immediately raised your hands as if you were surrendering.

"This is a private area! You are forbidden to be here. State your name and your purpose here" shouted one of the agents there.

You looked at some agents there with a slightly frowning expression. " The Doctor. Y/n. TARDIS. Fun" you said casually but with a smile

"This is serious! If you don't leave here you will be arrested and put in a cell!" said the agent firmly. Their hands are holding the gun tightly towards you. At any time they can pull the trigger of the gun if you are not serious.

You let out a short breath. "well, your Captain Fury invited me here" you said.

"I don't see Director Fury here"

"yeah, because he just walked away"

"Do not lie!"

"I don't" you rolled your eyes at the agent. Maybe done with that stupid question.

"then, what is the police telephone box from 60's doing here?" said one of the other agents.

"welp, believe it or not this is my ship" you said proudly.

"Bullshit! There is no ship that is shaped like a police box from the 60's let alone so small" argued the same agent with his hand still pointing the gun at your chest.

"oh there is, you're the only one who doesn't believe it or not.. And it's bigger than you think" you said teasingly.

"we don't trust people who shouldn't be he-"

"Enough!"

The agents surrounding you looked at the sound of the scream earlier. There stood a woman in her 20s wearing a black leather jacket and a red t-shirt inside with fiery red hair that was only above her shoulders and with a calm expression on her face even though she had just shouted at the agents surrounding you to stop. All the agents there stopped pointing their guns at you and looked at the calm woman respectfully and stood straight. You raised an eyebrow in surprise. The power that this woman holds, she must be an experienced agent with a high position. No wonder all the agents were nervous and respected the calm woman.

But, what caught your attention were the two men behind the calm woman. One with blonde hair, wearing a flannel shirt with a collar and wearing a thick collared leather jacket and has a fit body while the other wears a complete suit also in dark brown and a purple shirt inside and has dark brown hair and looks a bit lost standing there.

But seeing those men, you remembered something.

"AHH! YEAH! Ohh, this is BRILLIANT!" you exclaimed excitedly, then walked towards the two men standing behind the calm woman.

Seeing what happened, all the agents who were standing respectfully pointed their guns at you but were stopped by the calm woman.

"oh! I didn't think I'd see you two here. America's first hero and scientist who was affected by gamma radiation!" you said as you excitedly shook the blonde man's hand and then shook the scientist's hand. Your happy face does not change.

The blonde man looked at you with a confused face while the scientist man looked at you with what could be said to be worry.

"uhm.." the male scientist started to worry about you being over excited.

"aghh! I didn't expect to see Captain Steven Grant Rogers and Doctor Bruce Banner here. One is patriotic and the other is full of science. I'm Y/n, although some call me The Doctor but that's just my title .. I don't care what you want to call me" you started to calm down and your over excited decreased but your big smile didn't change.

'Wow.. This regeneration is really over excited this time'

The calm woman who had been watching the interaction between you and the two men started walking towards the three of you.

"I'm not surprised if Fury brings new people but you're not on our list.. So who are you? What are you doing here?" asked the calm woman with a strong and firm voice.

'wow.. this woman really has a strong aura'

"I'm Y/n, or the Doctor. Well some people call me the Doctor because it's more or less like a superhero name but that's what they call me" you replied as you calmed down.

"and also, Fury himself brought me here or rather I brought Fury here.. like I gave him a lift here in my TARDIS. And regarding the list.. you may need to add my name to the list.. seeing I will be here for a long time." you said with a light up tone.

The calm woman looked at you for a long time as if trying to read your body language before she nodded and shook your hand.

" Agent Natasha Romanoff, I'm one of the SHIELD agents here. Codename Black Widow " Natasha introduced herself. Her strong aura is still in the air and this makes you intimidating with her.

"oh, yeah! Black Widow.. No wonder I've heard your name before.. former assassin and now an agent for SHIELD.. A good one at that.. I'm so pleased to see you" you said while shook Natasha's hand excitedly.

'No wonder her aura is so strong'

Natasha tilted her head slightly. " you know me?"

You giggled. "oh I just heard from one of my 'old friends'.. He was a little angry.."

"he? "

"spoilers" you said as you put your index finger to your mouth in a 'shush' sign.

Bruce looked around uneasily. He rubbed his hands trying to get rid of his anxious feelings. Steve looked at Bruce with a worried expression after noticing the change in Bruce's situation.

"Are you ok, Doctor Banner?" Steve asked in a worried tone.

Bruce nodded his head. "yes, I'm fine.. I'm just a little anxious about all these things.. I still don't know how that Doctor knew about my case even though it was kept secret"

Steve nodded his head in understanding. His eyes looked at the two women who were still talking. Even though Steve is still in the phase of being surprised by the changing times and the sophistication of technology, he understands what Bruce feels now. Anxious with all the things that we ourselves don't know what to do. What they both know is that they need to help SHIELD to track the Tesseract.

"Must be strange for you, all ofthis." Banner said to Steve. His eyes looked at Steve's face.

"Well, this is actually kind of familiar. " replied Steve.

Banner nodded in understanding. He then closed his mouth. Maybe don't know how to continue the conversation.

"Gentlemen, you might wanna step inside in a minute. It's gonna get a little hard to breathe." Natasha said with her smooth voice.

You walked over and stood next to Bruce. Suddenly there was a loud humming sound from the ship you were stepping on now. You, Steve and Bruce looked around at the busy atmosphere. All the crew are rushing to prepare for something. There is a loud whirring and clunking sound. You, Banner and

Rogers make your way to the edge of the helicarrier.

" Is this a submarine?"asked Steve loudly trying to beat the noise.

Bruce who looked at the bottom of the helicarrier looked resigned. "Really, they want me in a submerged pressurized metal container?"

"oh I don't think they want to drown you, Doctor Banner" you said. Your eyes don't run away from the propellers that start to spin and start to rise.

'ok, this isn't a submarine.. Fury was right.. It's more of a Navy ship' your hearts sank when you realized what was happening now.

And just like that, the helicarrier began to rise and rise into the air. The strong wind began to pick up as the helicarrier rose into the air, making your hair and the others hair tousled with the strong wind. You then remembered something.

" OH! MY TARDIS! WAIT! " You ran quickly towards where your TARDIS was located.

yup, you forgot to lock the TARDIS door and Bounty is still in the TARDIS.

༺ღ༒ Time Skips ༒ღ༻

You, Bounty, Rogers and Banner follow Natasha into the bridge. Natasha peels away from you guys as you guys stare and observe in awe all technologies in the helicarrier. Various sophisticated technologies made Steve and Bruce look amazed. Meanwhile, you just observed one of the technologies there with a frown. Even though you know that all the technology here is sophisticated, the sophistication of this technology cannot beat how sophisticated the Time Lord's technology is. It’s very busy, with SHIELD personnel working at stations, and communicating over earpieces.

Bounty who just finished charging saw the current situation as if he was not comfortable with the busy and rushing atmosphere and started to move closer to your feet. He's holding your pants with his little hands.

"Maximum performance takeoff, increase output to capacity." Tech 1 said, fingers pressing the keyboard rapidly. Eyes do not run away from the screen

"Power plant performing atcapacity. We are clear." Bridge Tech said in her stern voice.

There stood a woman dressed in a SHIELD uniform and her dark brown hair tied up looking at a computer. "All engines operating. SHIELD emergency protocol one nine three

point six in effect." the woman looked at Fury. " We're at level, sir. "

Fury nodded his head, his eyes looking at the front of the ship with both hands out to each side holding the controls. Standing majestically there with his serious face, he opened his mouth.

"Good! Let's vanish." Fury commanded to all the agents on duty there.

"Engage retro reflection panels" The woman wearing the uniform commanded the agents there.

And the Hellicarrier became invisible. After making sure everything went smoothly, Fury turned back and looked at the three figures standing there.

"Gentleman, lady" Fury said as he walked up to the three of you.

Steve who was still in a state of amazement put his hand into his jacket took out money and slipped a piece of money to Fury with his eyes still in front of the ship.

You and Bruce looked at each other.

'well they must be making a bet'

Fury looked at Bruce and extended his hand to shake. "Doctor, thank you for coming."

Bruce nodded and shook Fury's hand. "Thanks for asking nicely. So, um,

how long am I staying?"

"Once we get our hands on it Tesseract, you're in the wind." replied Fury reassuringly to Bruce.

"Well where are you with that?" you interrupted the two men.

"We're sweeping everything wirelessly

accessible camera on the planet. Cell phones , laptops, if it’s connected to a satellite, it’s eyes and ears for us." said an Agent wearing a suit with his arms crossed.

Steve, who was just amazed by all the technology, looked at you all confused after hearing what you all said. You then noticed that Natasha walked to one of the computers and slid the computer screen with her finger and a short haired man appeared with a serious face. You can see Natasha's face after seeing the man. A worried look was visible on the red haired woman's face even though people there didn't notice it with her expression but you did.

"It’s still not gonna find them in time." said Natasha, her eyes still looking at the screen.

"You have to narrow your field. How many Spectrometers do you have access to?" Bruce asked Fury.

Fury looked at Bruce. "How many are there?"

"Call every lab you know. Tell them to put the Spectrometers on the roof and calibrate them for Gamma rays. I'll rough out a tracking

algorithm, basic cluster recognition. At least we could rule out a few places. Do you have somewhere for me to work?" Bruce said as he opened his dark brown blazer and revealed the purple shirt he was wearing.

(all geniuses wear purple)

"Agent Romanoff, would you show? Doctor Banner to his laboratory, please? And Y/n..” Fury called out.

"yes?" you looked at Fury with raised eyebrows.

"I want to talk to you alone" replied Fury and walked to the end of the ship.

You followed Fury to the end of the ship looking around the ship.

"well, I'm quite amazed by the technology here.. Humans nowadays are getting smarter as time goes on. But I still think Time Lord technologies are more advanced" you rambled fast.

Fury looked at you without saying anything. "Our technology is indeed sophisticated and complete with a strong defense.. and that's why we need to make sure that some of the technologies here always run smoothly for this mission and we don't want to talk about our technology right now. Might as well introduce you to Stark."

You stiffened and looked at Fury very intimidatingly. Fury's serious aura was still hovering in the air. You nodded.

" yeah, yeah.. About the cube.. so.. you still can't track the cube? Or Loki? " you asked walking and then leaning against the wall of the ship looking at Fury with your arms crossed.

"We are still searching and this mission needs many more people to help in this mission. Loki is still out there and we are just waiting for time to find that man along with some of our agents." Fury replied.

You narrowed your eyes. "So you want me to join your team?"

"yes.. The Avengers" replied Fury, nodding his head.

"The Avengers? What is that? Is it a band?"

"It's a group for extraordinary people who help to fight any threat from outer space or earth.. And not a band." Fury explained simply.

"So you want me to join your group to fight the alien threat to save the world?" you said.

" that's right.. We have gathered some people here and we are just waiting for time for us to get what information they have collected and I think, with your knowledge like you mentioned , this mission will go smoothly." Fury replied with his hands placed behind him.

"Time Lord's knowledge.. I think I said I just want to help you instead of using this knowledge to make work easier.. Time Lord's knowledge is advanced knowledge and can interfere with human history. So I recommend you not to urge me to use anything the knowledge you want me to give." you said seriously.

" and if you don't want to share knowledge, you must understand the way humans think. And behave because I just got a report from some agents about your behavior earlier." Fury insisted while looking at you like a father scolding his child.

"ahh, that's just one time. You see, my mind are just regenerated and I still want to understand this behavior so that's why I'm a little over excited" you said towards Fury.

Fury just looked at you without saying anything. "go to Agent Romanoff and follow her to the lab. There you can start"

You nodded and walked over to Natasha and Bruce who were talking to each other near the ship's bridge.

Fury then just looked at you and walked over to the woman in the SHIELD uniform.

"Hill, did you tell the council that Barton had been compromised?" Fury asked Maria Hill.

Maria looked at Fury with raised eyebrows. "Was that not procedure?"

Fury just kept quiet and walked towards and looked ahead. Maria looked at Fury.

"Did you tell them who exactly is on

your response team?"

Fury looked over his shoulder and his eyes caught a glimpse of you walking out of the deck area.

"Doesn't appear that I have to."

               ✰    ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅     ✰

[olet-lucernam]

A Hollow Promise [13] chapter iii, part i

{_[on AO3]_}

main tags : loki x original character, post-avengers 2012, canon divergence - post-thor: the dark world, canon-typical violence, mentions of torture

-

summary: In the aftermath of the Battle of New York, the Avengers need a few days to build a transport device for the Tesseract. With the Helicarrier damaged and surveillance offline, SHIELD sends an asset to guard Loki in the interim: a young woman who sees the truth in all things, and cannot lie.

Even long presumed dead, her memories lost to her, Loki would know her anywhere.

And this changes things.

Some things last beyond infinity. And the universe is in love with chaos.

(Loki was never looking for redemption. It came as an unexpected side-effect.)

-

chapter summary : loki's return to asgard becomes imminent, and his guard shows her hand.

recommended listening : church, fall out boy

-

[PREVIOUS] | [MASTERLIST] | [NEXT]

-

“What do you know of Asgard?”

Her shadow halted in its slow, ghostlike pacing, rendered a wraith in the demi-dark.

Then she spoke, and the spell was broken.

“Good morning to you too, Prince Loki.”

Her voice was tart-sweet and crisp, like the air at dawn and a fistful of dew-doused wildflowers. Loki wondered how long she had been awake, this time- and how long she had known that he was awake too. He has spent the past few minutes simply watching her, letting the fragile equilibrium hold, reliving a thousand overlapping memories veiled in a haze of barely-waking- a flutter of sharp light through a cascade of drapes, the shadow of a figure moving near silently through the gloom of his bedchamber, the rustle of sheets and reaching out with languid strength to drag her yielding form into his arms, smelling daybreak and high altitudes in her hair.

Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you, she would breathe out, curving herself up into him, palms smoothing from his waist to his ribs to the plane of his back, her warmth soaking through him. His reply would often be little more than an incoherent mumble as he slipped back into sleep, content.

Extending a hand to the control panel, she leaned over and lifted the lights with a light touch of her fingertip, as though drawing curtains from across a windowpane- the motion just slightly too precise and smooth.

The room brightened, turning as clear as water, and she resumed her pacing, as absent as a metronome’s swing.

Loki straightened.

His mood instantly turned brittle, like ice crystals forming inside his skin.

She was wearing the SHIELD jumpsuit from the first day.

The nondescript, muted navy smothered her, as though it was attempting to blend her into the black steel like a thick daub of oil paint, its streamlined cut mimicking the soft, splitting faux-leather of costume armour; only her boots seemed to have any weight, their dense tread on the mesh walkways implying their thick, solid utility. Her hair was loose, combed and coiffed with a fine sheen of oil, coaxed into an artful swoop of ash-blonde that framed her features, pulling into lax curls down her back- veiling the violet shadows under her eyes, the tarnish in the gold of her complexion, the faint pinch in her brow, gaze dimmed and unseeing as she pivoted and retraced her steps.

Loki could see the wear of a sleepless night in her, rapidly reconstructing how she had spent the hours- lying awake, the gears of her mind whirring in tandem with a resting heartrate that thrummed slightly too fast, primed and overwarm and burning the fumes of the midnight oil, planning and replanning.

He felt a stab of violent self-loathing, like a hot knife in the gut.

Loki had been too exhausted, wrung out, to notice that he had fallen asleep before her, and that she had likely been waiting him out.

“Good morning, darling,” he amended, his tone soft. “How long have you been awake?”

“Mm. Long enough.” Her flask was locked between her hands, her fingernail tapping against its plastic in a restless stutter, like wound clockwork.

Loki pressed the point, carefully, like probing for a suspected broken bone.

“And how long have you been fretting?”

“Thinking. Not fretting.” She corrected without breaking stride, more preoccupied than obstinate. “I bought down a matcha latte- and rose tea. Some people find it a little sweet, but I think you might like it. They’re in the capsule.”

Loki exhaled through his nose, and rose from the bench.

“Beloved.”

She halted partway through a stride forward, rocking backwards onto her heel, like the reversed momentum of a pendulum. Glancing over her shoulder, the gloss of her hair falling aside, her expression was perfectly attentive and expectant- lips parted, eyebrows raised, eyes doelike.

Loki simply gazed back, pointedly.

She gave way, dropping her eyes.

“The visual feeds are operational again. No audio, but Agent Barton can read lips in several languages. And- the device for the Tesseract will be finished in a matter of hours.”

She spoke evenly around the knot in her throat.

Loki gathered himself, recalibrating.

It was too soon.

But- the quicker that everything progressed, the earlier they could set events into motion, biasing the course of future, like carving out a runnel before a spill of water. Preparations would have to be swift and precise to have a chance of holding against the enemy, Loki had known this, but that had been before he had known that his return to Asgard would mean being torn away from her, again, and that it would hurt her too, even if she lacked the full context of why- of what had, once, could they still, did they still-

“A few hours?” Loki forced himself to ask.

“Mm. Before noon, most likely. Dr Stark and Dr Banner are slightly more brilliant than I predicted, which is- good to know. I found out this morning, when I went up.” She flicked a foot out, irreverently, the side of her boot knocking against a reinforced shockproof case, set underneath the terminal. “They gave me that.”

“Manacles, I presume.”

Loki saw the muscles in her jaw shift.

“Power-supressing cuffs. And- a muzzle.”

Loki blinked- then laughed, genuinely amused.

“Oh, dear. Did I unnerve them that much?”

“Who can say,” she said delicately, visibly simmering with resentment.

Given her reaction, Loki guessed that she knew as well as he did that it wasn’t a necessary precaution- but a restatement of victory, or the casual cruelty endemic to those in power. Loki had witnessed it before; he had felt its burn like a brand, had committed such acts himself, as though mimicking the symptoms could generate the source, or trick the world into believing the lie and defraud it into truth.

Even through his delirium, he had crafted his taunts to sink deep. Rather than demoralise the heroes, Loki suspected he had unsettled and aggravated them- enough for them to want to shut him up.

After Thanos, this barely cut at his pride.

After her, he remembered the value of patience- and the taste of delayed gratification on his tongue, aged like wine.

“I’ve already sabotaged them, a little.” The words were spoken against the rim of her flask, the fan of her fingers screening her mouth from the cameras. “The equivalent of blowing a fuse. Just in case.”

Loki softened.

“My generous darling,” he susurrated, circling the cell and opening the hollow pillar. Retrieving one of the disposable cups set inside, he took a careful sip, identifying it as the chilled matcha latte. “How ever shall I repay your consideration, sweet thing?”

She stilled for a heartbeat- then swivelled towards him, breathing deep and smiling against the pressure gathering around her eyes.

“Tell me about your home.”

The redirection was bright and sudden, a clumsy attempt, like a hysterical laugh masking a sob, seizing upon anything true to hide the desperation that Loki saw welling in her.

He lifted his eyebrows. “My home?”

“Mm-hm.” She cocked her head, fighting to maintain her smile. “I only have the tales from Norse mythology, and I know how limited their veracity is, for one reason or another. And- besides.” Her demeanour settled slightly, easing into something unforced, and comfortably honest. “I’d like to hear about it from you.”

For a long moment, Loki gazed at her through his lashes.

He had known, could have guessed, had heard it implied in the undercurrent of her voice and seen it in the burgeoning light in her eyes- how she had marvelled at the worlds she had seen through the Tesseract, devouring every difference and detail she encountered like a glut of honey from the comb.

Loki knew that he could ink her a distraction with his words alone, construct a palace of paragraphs for her to lose herself in exploring, spin a narrative as light and smooth as silver thread for her to follow. He could draw from his memories, rendering them more perfect, a fairytale breathed to life.

For a moment, Loki considered telling her of the beauty of the Realm Eternal.

He thought of describing the prismatic crystal that was Asgard’s foundation, from which the quartz of the Bifrost had been mined aeons ago- its splintered, denticulated spires swirling with clouds of water vapour and stardust, illuminating the mists like nebulae. He thought of telling her of the glorious citadel of Gladsheim, the royal chartered district encircled by a perfect ring of white stone, walls curving out from crescent of the palace towers- sun-struck and golden, staggered like the flutes of a pipe organ against fantasy-blue skies. He thought of telling her of the deep ornamental waters below the ramparts, cascading from the gilded spouts of the artificial falls, turning sapphire in the vast basins and filtering out into canals and tributary rivers to eventually decant into the sea.

He thought of telling her how the districts of the capital unfolded like leaves from the centre- opening into verdant swatches of cultivated garden and elegant fountains, the mirror-smooth seaways connecting the inner city to the harbour and its outer-world trading markets, the vast plazas and broad stairways overlooked by embassies and guild houses, bakeries and sartors, teahouses and drinking halls. He thought of telling her of the soaring skywalks bridging between towers, the open-air markets thriving on the cobbles below, garlanded with strings of glinting star-lights and the delicate foliage of blooming trees. He thought of describing the richness of the air, the people that was its lifeblood, and their snatches of conversation overheard in the streets- artisans discussing commissions through hasty mouthfuls of street food, clerks lamenting the volume of work for the upcoming festival, children bickering over who got to play the Einherjar and who would be the frost giant in their next game, courtiers confirming their next social engagements on the opera house steps, fishmongers bartering prices for the latest catch, merchants complaining about the unreasonable importation taxes on goods from Nidavellir, Valkyries collecting their wares from the smithy- gossip and grudges, affection and aggravations, scandal and stories, creating a shifting music pervading every corner.

He could give her the illusion that he had loved for millennia, within which he had never truly fit as an intrinsic part.

Or- he could tell her of the outer reaches of the realm, the places of Asgard that held the memory of the ancient wild. Loki could describe the close, shadowed thicket of the forest off the beaten hunting trails, the crags in mountain stone left untraversed since the reign of Bor, the passages hidden behind the thundering veils of great waterfalls, the alcoves and sealed chambers and niches of the palace- and the Bifrost, drawing from the raw magic in Asgard’s roots.

He thought of sketching its vista for her- a great ribbon of crystal, polished and cut smooth, four feet thick and straight as a sword, supported on struts of golden steel in the ocean bedrock. He thought of describing how its strata glinted with strands of brilliant colour, ruby and emerald, peacock and rose- how it lit up with each tread, how you could hear it glow, and under the strum of hooves it sounded like splinters of crystals ringing together underfoot. He thought of telling her how the sea below was so dark that it was almost black, how its falls streamed off the edge into clean mist that would condense into rainclouds- and of the Observatory seated upon an outcropping of rock at the brink of the world, a casement of gold, gazing out into darkened skies marbled with lucent colour, like clouds of frozen light and metallic dust, studded with stars and distant potential.

He thought of telling her how many times he had made the long ride out across the Bifrost, to the Observatory, waiting and waiting and waiting-

Loki thought of telling her everything.

“Tell me about your home,” he said instead. “The places you love.”

When she blinked, drawing herself up slightly in surprise, something settled in Loki’s chest.

Loki knew her past. He wanted her present, as well, and her future- and both were tied to this world.

He had loved Midgard, once, perhaps more deeply than Thor did now. His fascination with the realm and his infatuation with its fragile, resourceful, wildly inventive denizens had slowly wasted into antipathy, tainted by a grief and rage that had nowhere else to run.

Under the circumstances, however- perhaps that regard was worth reclaiming. Whatever she loved, Loki could hold affection for by default. Besides which, Midgard would be a likely theatre of events to come.

“Oh. Ah-” She shifted. “We travelled a lot, when I was a child,” she hedged. “And, now- I rarely stay in the same place for long.”

“And nowhere caught a piece of your heart?”

She hesitated, nails scraping against the flask, teeth slicing across her lower lip.

Carefully, without turning his head, Loki flicked an aggrieved glance towards the upper corner of the cell- to where the cameras were mounted, recently restored and running smoothly.

Keeping his hand low at his side, Loki gave a subtle twist of his fingers, his mana sparking.

The veil of magic swiped across her mouth and lower jaw, cool as rainwater. She startled, instinctively balking against it- before stilling, catching herself, letting the illusion settle.

Reaching up, she traced along her jawline cautiously.

Her eyes met his.

Loki smirked, casting the same illusion on himself.

“It will make it appear as though you are speaking a language they do not know, or cannot comprehend- one even outside the scope of the Allspeak.”

“Gibberish,” she extrapolated dryly, even as tension eased out of her posture like a draining tide.

“As any language is rendered, to those who cannot comprehend it,” he demurred.

“And if no one can comprehend it, then it isn’t a language.”

“Wittgenstein?”

“Language as function. Hence gibberish, my prince.”

Loki grinned, unashamed, and watched her melt into an amused smile.

“In essence,” he admitted, spreading his hands in acquiescence. “But only a true omniglot would recognise it as such, and they are scarce few.”

She hummed softly, two fingers rubbing across her clavicle.

Then she spoke.

“There is a house,” she began tentatively, “in Manhattan. Greenwich Village. My childhood home.”

Loki paused, and sobered slightly, lifting the cardboard cup to his mouth.

“I’m surprised you’re not more upset with me.”

“I am upset,” she said blithely, but he could hear the strain underneath, like the full-body ache that followed a broken fever, “even if I understand. It still hurts. I’m still angry. But I’m also both selfish and circumspect. The latter means that I have more deserving targets for my anger, which means I’m not obliged to feel so bad about the former. I’m sure people would still judge me, though, which is- entirely fair.”

Her shoulder and the corner of her mouth lifted in a rueful shrug, like an unbalanced set of scales.

“If I had lost something, personally- well, this might be a different conversation.”

Loki swallowed the mouthful of matcha.

“I have had little opportunity to admire the city recently,” he said, “but I remember New York City, from my previous excursions to Midgard. A thriving cosmopolitan bastion of trade, culture, and-” Loki paused, pointedly. “Outspokenness.”

She inclined her head in agreement, creasing with fondness.

“Although I am not familiar with specific neighbourhoods,” Loki conceded, deliberately leading.

She smiled faintly.

“Historically, Greenwich Village has been a bohemian neighbourhood. Home of subversives and counterculture. It’s pretty gentrified these days, though. Well, all of Manhattan is, really. And Brooklyn. The starving artists and street trendsetters are being priced out of the neighbourhoods they made stylish in the first place.”

Loki watched her keenly, and the way she began relax and warm through.

“Tell me?”

He knew how much he was asking of her, to open up another segment of her heart to him, and one that had been directly wounded at his hands.

She tensed infinitesimally.

Loki smiled, grimly pleased. Brave, but not careless. Good girl.

But then he watched her forcibly relax, as though regaining her balance on a great precipice.

“The district where you concentrated the Chitauri attack was Midtown- the commercial, business and media centre of Manhattan.” She said carefully. “Department stores, art museums, theatre halls, corporate skyscrapers. Times Square, Central Park, Stark Tower. Greenwich is further south. More residential. The street I grew up on is a row of townhouses, lined with apple blossoms. Walking home, it was like stepping into a film set, of that idealised NYC from the movies. I kept track of the season by the changing of those trees. In early spring, when they trees are in full bloom, it’s like- fresh snow made out of silk. It’s stunning on a clear day, against blue skies. And the fragrance- think of something light and delicate, layered over and over itself until it’s almost overwhelming. Like the chiffon skirts of a ballgown.” She gave a short laugh. “It helps to cover the filth of the city, a little.”

Loki instantly thought of the flowering trees on Asgard, their drifting petals gathering like pooling rain in the cracks of the cobbles.

“The house I grew up in is- old money. Grand Neoclassical elegance. Red brick, carved white stone, blue slate- set with these beautiful leaded casement windows, almost twice as tall as I am, that open into the house like French doors. Some days, I would open up the windows, and just- lean out, into the white noise of the city, and listen. Millions of souls, millions of lives, millions of stories. Like air.”

For the first time, Loki felt his insides twist with a flash of sincere guilt.

In the hours following his recapture, he had resolved that regret was useless. He knew why he had done it, and he knew that he would do it again under the same circumstances.

Yet in her love of her city, Loki could hear an echo of his affection for Asgard.

“My bedroom was on the second floor, on the eastern façade.” She ran her fingers through her hair, eyes distant. “Juliet balconies at every set of windows. A daybed with white cushions. Gossamer drapes, bookshelves built into the walls, a white marble fireplace- this ridiculous Baroque chaise lounge and armchair set, with a low coffee table. I would read there so often that it started to sink the cushions.” She huffed wryly at the memory. “At the top of the house, there’s a massive circular skylight- an oculus, set into the slant of the roof, facing into the sky. My father would meditate up there often, on the mezzanine. When it rained, I would go up there with herbal tea, and we would sit there and talk for a while. I was- incredibly spoiled.” Her expression sank, exuding a wistful nostalgia that curdled at the edges the longer that it held. “Privileged. East Coast monied elite. Private school and music lessons and all I could have asked for, material or experience- including an adventure house to grow up in. Long hallways with hardwood panelling, old secrets in the walls, room after room filled with artifacts from across the world and through the ages. It was like something out of a children’s pulp adventure novel, only more fantastical.”

She spoke of her home with a devotion and a longing, the edges cracked, scraping away at the dazzling roseate lens.

Loki understood it, completely.

“Will you go back?” He asked softly.

“Maybe. Someday,” she said, light and expressionless. “But- not for a long time, I think.”

Loki swallowed. It felt like thawing frost in his throat.

“I’m sorry.”

Her head flicked up to him, slightly startled- before shaking her head.

“No. Don’t apologise. This is not your doing.” She said, resolute. “I knew what I was doing. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to go home again, once I started looking for answers. And I made that decision long before the Tesseract showed me you. So don’t be sorry. I have no regrets. I’m that much closer to those answers, thanks to you. Which means I’m a little closer to going home.”

Answers.

They coalesced on his tongue, thick with mislaid truths- everything that she had left her home for, a dense history, waiting to be spilled out- but arrested by the sudden panicked thought of what she would do, once she knew everything.

“It’s alright.” She interrupted quietly, her gaze steady, effortlessly reading his internal conflict. “I think I know what-”

Her lower lip creased slightly beneath her teeth.

“I know enough. I can wait a little longer.”

“And how long have you been waiting so far?” Loki demanded.

She smiled, but the motion was hesitant, failing before it reached her eyes, as though it might split open an unseen wound if she pressed too far.

“Can you forgive me?”

-

[PREVIOUS] | [MASTERLIST] | [NEXT]

[darsynia]

Present Imperfect | Ch. 2: Day Two

TONY STARK MASTERLIST | STORY MASTERLIST | PREV | NEXT

Summary: After losing Pepper to Extremis, Tony decides to get the shrapnel (and thus his arc reactor) removed-- but he wakes up as President of the United States.

Tony's heart surgery is the last thing he remembers, a worst-case amnesia scenario that leaves the country with a leader who doesn't remember the last year of office, the election, or his marriage to the First Lady, Natasha Romanoff Stark. Length/Warnings: 3,195 words // None this chapter

Tags: @sobeautifullyobsessed @chickensarentcheap (whoops I did say I'd tag you sorry to forget!)

Excerpt:

“What’s up, Buttercups?” Tony asks the three men. He leans back in his chair, wishing the chair-desk configuration allowed for his feet up on the top of it. Anything to add to the list of aberrant behaviors on both sides.

“More condolence calls tomorrow,” Tweedle-Dour announces as he hands over a folder.

“Bummer.”

Tweedle-Glum’s suit looks like it could have been mass-produced at the same place as his buddy’s, and so does his expression. Crucially, though, he doesn’t do more than glower at Tony’s inappropriate attitude.

Mentally, he puts a giant red X over the ‘is this real’ board, Family Feud style. He’d never run for President, but even if he did, Tony wouldn’t hire these jackalopes.

Day Two

Tony’s internal clock wakes him up at 5:55. Other than the red of the digital clock, there’s no light in the room at all, not even the glow of his arc reactor. He runs his fingers over its slightly-raised cover and tries to make out Natasha’s sleeping figure beside him. Both seem like enigmas he’ll need to decipher in order to feel comfortable in this strange existence, but the arc is more pressing; the insert must be replaced at some point. Even though he hasn’t been using its power for anything more than magnetic resistance, Tony doesn’t know how long it’s been since the last change. He’s spent time during every bathroom break seeking a quick release or access panel to no avail.

As he’d hoped, his eyes adjust to the dim shadows of the room, and Tony can see that Nat is on her side facing him, one hand up by her face, the other thrown up over her head, buried in the space between the mattress and the headboard. It occurs to him that she doesn’t look that much different in the darkness from Pepper, but he doesn’t feel the frantic clench of grief he’d fought so hard in the months leading up to his surgery.

Does that mean that five years have really passed?

“Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but I was brute force eye candy that day. Even if I'd been right next to Cap, I'm not sure I’d have been able to secure the thing if the other option was watching Rogers fight a Loki-ganger of himself,” Tony says breezily. It’s mostly true; he was in on the decisions of where to keep the scepter, even helped design the security measures to keep it out of nefarious hands, but he doesn’t know exactly where it is.

That thought stays with him over the course of getting dressed (in clothes she hands over yet again. Tony doesn’t complain because the dress shirt is actually his favorite), while he eats breakfast in a small ante-room with a complete stranger who claims he’s Tony’s National Security Advisor, and even at the beginning of the meeting directly after breakfast.

What finally distracts him from thoughts of Natasha is the focus of that meeting-- defense and deterrence.

“Sir, I fear it may be time to draw on your former SHIELD contacts. We may no longer have the Tesseract, but with access to your improved arc technology, we may be able to take another look at the weaponry Director Fury placed on hold after the--”

“No!” The outburst comes from one of the men farther down the table, someone Tony’s not even sure was introduced to him. “We should skip ahead, ask for the scepter!”

“Darby, I’m still not certain the ‘secure location’ you claim to be keeping that thing isn’t actually ‘wherever the fuck Loki is!’” the National Security Advisor scoffs.

“I wouldn’t know.” Darby levels a scornful look across the stretch of table at Tony. “He probably would.”

“Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but I was brute force eye candy that day. Not sure I would have been able to secure it if the other option was watching Rogers fight a Loki-ganger of himself, even if I was up there,” Tony says breezily. It’s mostly true; he was in on the decisions of where to keep the scepter, even helped design the security measures to keep it out of nefarious hands, but he doesn’t know exactly where it is.

“Straight out of the ‘don’t give away state secrets’ handbook,” the guy mutters under his breath as the head of the Joint Chiefs of Staff weighs in.

Tony’s glad he’s staying calm, but he marks another chalk line on his mental tally board on the side of ‘not real.’ He knows this is a meeting of insiders, but would someone at Darby’s level really treat the President of the United States with such disrespect? 

Someone speaks up to question the concept of using the scepter at all, but the attitude of the others at the table has grown chilly. He sees one of the note-takers seated against the wall tap his watch, and seconds later, a bigwig's phone lights up. That man (he’s wearing a uniform, but Tony can’t remember what his official role is) stands and apologizes before stating that they’ll need to gather more information before they reconvene.

Tony makes another mental tally mark.

For the rest of the day, he makes it a point to seem antsy, to need something in his hands to settle himself. He walks around the room in each meeting, opens drawers, pokes around on shelves, steals pens from desks, all sorts of stuff. By dinner, he asks to change his sweaty socks and nips into the bedroom to unload the booty from his pockets into his pillowcase.

Tony figures if there are cameras in the bedroom it’ll prompt a conversation about why he’s stockpiling, so it’s a win/win. Just in case, he baits Cora right before he sits down to eat by telling her he doesn’t want anyone to touch his bed.

“It doesn’t feel like the world can fall apart around my ears if my bed is made, you know? You know.”

Natasha isn’t at dinner, but the SHIELD guy Randall Darby is, ostensibly as the guest of another ‘senior advisor’ who seems to consider this a work dinner. The two of them sound jovial, but in reality, they’re laser-focused on the scepter, to the point where Tony really wants to just ask them why they think he’ll have any idea about it, if he’s got a five year gap in his memory!

The memory thing is still a secret between himself and few others, so he employs his very best distraction techniques, the stuff he’d had to use on Stane when his former mentor-turned-enemy had wanted to misuse one of Tony’s inventions. 

“The truth is, we’ll be at these bastards’ mercy if we don’t respond decisively and soon.”

This is the fourth time he’s heard the same sentiment, and it’s taking real effort not to roll his eyes. “And I’ve said I hear you on that. I don’t know what you propose we do when the intelligence we’re getting about this is that they were coordinated by a group with a lot of funding and an intricate, practically untraceable network!”

Not for the first time since he’s found himself in this hellscape, Tony thinks that JARVIS would probably be able to trace the terrorists. The code he’d come up with to snoop at SHIELD used the kind of random-seeming data points that has had great success in flushing out insidious trends and dangerous weaknesses. It’s another hash mark in the column for ‘not real’ that there’s no JARVIS here, not even a carefully compartmentalized version with quarantined net access.

He’s startled out of his distracted thoughts when Darby slams his hand on the table.

“Goddamnit, sir, we need to move on this!”

Tony shoots him a withering look, but Darby’s expression doesn’t change. In fact, he looks more upset than he did before, as though he expects a conciliatory answer from the President of the United States. The other man at the table moves his hand to rest it on Darby’s arm, prompting him to say, “I apologize, sir. Some of the people we lost were personal friends. It’s hard to stand by and seem to do nothing.”

“I can’t make such a decision unilaterally. If you truly think that’s our best option, I’d like a proposal with conclusions and a concrete plan by this time tomorrow.” Tony stands up. He’s used to managing Obie, who was managing him in return. At least in the beginning, it had been with the kind of begrudging, sometimes annoyed respect that recognized how much they needed each other. Darby’s parting handshake leaves no such impression.

Noting the difference gives Tony an idea, however.

“Cora, I want to see all the news articles about SHIELD operations, including those we know are related, even if the journalists didn’t know it at the time. Just send them along as soon as you get access-- we still printing out everything?” he says as he walks with his Secret Service detail through the ante-room outside the Fauxval Office, as he’s started to call it. He’s not unused to having bodyguards, but he is used to those guards being people he knows and trusts. These are neither. “And where is my wife?”

He shuts the door shortly after giving the order, but opens it again seconds later.

“Another thing: I want to talk to my doctor as soon as possible,” he says, shutting the door again. It occurs to him after he sits down at the desk that Presidents don’t tend to tell people what to do by opening the door, yelling orders through the gap, and shutting it again. Then again, Presidential staff doesn’t act the way these people have for the past two days, either. Something is wrong, but he can’t decide whether his dedicated team is trying to limit his exposure to people who can tell he’s having memory issues (a long-shot option that isn’t any more unrealistic than a coordinated bio attack across the nation’s capital), or because this is all a farce and he’s just finished going through a mock shrapnel-removing surgery.

How much easier would it be to believe the former if he hadn’t found the makeup covering the IV bruising in his arm?

Tony sets his elbows down on the desk and rubs his eyes with his palms, just for a few seconds. He’s confused, frustrated, and anxious, exactly the mood you want the subject of a psy-op to be in.

Well, if this is an op, they’re going to have to work for it.

Instead of looking at the documents he’s meant to be reading during this twenty minute section of time before a final wrap-up with the senior staff, Tony slides his chair back and starts opening drawers. The next time he sees Nat, he intends to ask her about the IV and watch her reaction closely.

When Cora and the three goobers he supposedly trusts above everyone else come by for the ‘senior staff meeting,’ Tony doesn’t even hide the shit he’d dug out of the desk: two different kinds of small screwdrivers, an earpiece reminiscent of the stuff they wear for Avenging, a handful of bolts, and a truly odd number of mechanical pencils. These things can be explained.

The number of important-looking folders filled with blank paper cannot. He’ll confront Natasha with his evidence tonight, after they’re left alone; he’s already pocketed a couple of the pencils and two miniature notebooks from a recognizable D.C. stationery company.

“What’s up, Buttercups?” Tony asks the three men. He leans back in his chair, wishing the chair-desk configuration allowed for his feet up on the top of it. Anything to add to the list of aberrant behaviors on both sides.

“More condolence calls tomorrow,” Tweedle-Dour announces as he hands over a folder.

“Bummer.”

Tweedle-Glum’s suit looks like it could have been mass-produced at the same place as his buddy’s, and so does his expression. Crucially, though, he doesn’t do more than glower at Tony’s inappropriate attitude.

Mentally, he puts a giant red X over the ‘is this real’ board, Family Feud style. He’d never run for President, but even if he did, Tony wouldn’t hire these jackalopes.

“All right, well, it seems that the President’s stress might be finally getting to him,” Cora says with a strained smile.

Whoever she is, she’s got real power, Tony notes to himself, seeing the men arrayed in front of him stiffen minutely before collectively agreeing to leave the room.

“Anything else on my itinerary, Boss?” he asks Cora when they’re gone.

“Might get to bed early for once, Sir.” Her expression is impassive. Tony interprets that as concern.

He gets up and does a sequence of snap claps with his hands, meaning to signal that he's relaxed. “Bed, but not sleep, if I’m lucky!” he jokes. “Speaking of which…”

“The First Lady is already in the Presidential, Sir, reading a briefing book for the Summit for Child Mental Health tomorrow.”

“She planning to zoom in? On a computer, not Marine One,” he teases. Cora’s demeanor, which had been warm on day one, is decidedly frigid in response to this. Tony wonders if that has anything to do with the way he’d scooped up every single random piece of crap on his desk and shoved them ostentatiously into his pocket. Does she know he’s planning to fuck with the cover on his arc with those screwdrivers? Can she risk giving the game away by trying to stop him?

He’s not even sure if he hopes so. It depends on where Natasha falls.

Unlike the day before, Cora doesn’t accompany him to the bedroom. He imagines she has some notes to make about his obvious rebellion against whatever the fuck is going on.

Natasha is sitting up in bed with a binder when he walks in. Her hair is down, and he notes that the curls that brush her shoulders are only a little longer than they were the last time he’d seen her. Tony can tell she’s aware of his presence in the room, but she’s still focused on the pages in front of her. 

He slides his hands into the pockets of his slacks and just stands there looking at her for a while. It’s not a hardship. Natasha Romanoff is one of the most stunning women he’s ever met, even with the access that his money brings him in places like Hollywood and New York. She’s also the most poised. He’s deliberately trying to unnerve her, but whether she seems to notice will depend on where her allegiances lie. That doesn’t mean it won’t work. Either she’s on his side, or she isn’t.

“A picture would last longer,” she finally says, two and a half minutes into his perusal.

“I figured the wedding ring superceded that.”

Nat looks up and favors him with a wry smile. “Sure it does, but unless you pull over a chair, you’re going to get tired eventually.”

“I never get tired of how beautiful you are,” Tony says honestly.

They’re looking directly at each other, so he catches the effect his words have on her. Natasha’s expression flickers just slightly, eyes widening, lips parting, head moving back in surprise despite years of discipline. A second later, there’s a snapping sound, and she swears under her breath, shaking out her hand.

“You ok?”

“Yeah, these pencils are shit,” she says, swinging her legs over the side of the bed to get up and holding out one hand to show him the shattered remains. Tony ducks into the bathroom and meets her halfway with the small garbage can. After a smile of appreciation, Nat says, “You should change, the itinerary has you up at six again tomorrow.”

He nods, planning to be acquiescent right up until he’s not. Tony takes his time changing, standing beside the bed, but he does turn his back to swap from dress pants to pajama pants. She doesn’t need the information that his body isn’t completely disinterested.

Because his pants pockets are yet again filled with contraband, he’d set them down gently on the bed. Now that he’s done the Mr. Rogers thing and put on more innocuous clothing, it’s time to turn the tables. He starts taking each object out to set it down in front of his pillow. One screwdriver. Two flimsy mechanical pencils. Four bolts. Another screwdriver.  A metal cylinder he’s unsure the purpos-- ah! A flashlight.

Tony tucks that into the pocket of his pajama top, glancing over at Nat as he does so. She’s studiously reading the binder, meaning she’s completely focused on him. Good.

After he removes the rest of the items from his pants pockets, he tosses the garment over his shoulder with no regard of where it’ll land. Natasha doesn’t react. His lips twitching with the need to smile, smirk, frown, something, Tony pulls out the flashlight, grabs the smallest of the screwdrivers, and starts unbuttoning his shirt.

“Tony?”

“Yes dear?”

“Are those sterilized?”

She’s still not looking over. For the first time since all of this started, he feels normal again, if only for those few seconds before he looks down at the screwdriver. Ridiculously, it’s got a sticker on it, ‘Property of the White House.’

He bursts out laughing. Tossing the damned thing on the bed again, Tony buttons back up and tucks the flashlight into his breast pocket. Balancing his contraband in one hand, he tugs at the pillow with the other, listening intently.

It jingles.

Natasha’s shoulders start to shake, and he can’t resist his own grin. Whatever is going on, she doesn’t have all of her barriers up. Instead of revealing his stash, Tony drops his treasure on the bedside table, letting it fall from far enough up that it makes noise.

“Hope they don’t have a mic hidden in the clock. That would be unfortunate.”

Her expression remains neutral. “Mmmhmm.”

“You have much more of that to read?”

“Hht mm.”

“Good.”

He watches her, and this time she breaks after thirty or so seconds.

“Something you need?”

“Yeah,” Tony says softly, crossing his arms. He knows she’ll notice the body language/tone of voice dichotomy. “When’s the last time we had sex?”

Natasha lifts her head, lips twisting in a movement he’d be hard-pressed to describe with words, but which absolutely means she’s girding herself for battle. After letting out a little breath, she closes the binder and looks over at him.

“You don’t remember?”

He angles his head sternly. “You know I don’t. Everything’s going to fall down around our ears if you try to tell me no one made provisions for privacy in here.”

Fluidly, Nat gets up, the sheet falling away from her oversized, fluffy robe, which sways open in turn, giving him the smallest glimpse of crimson silk. It only takes her a few steps to set down her binder on the chest of drawers, but Tony’s still processing what he’d seen when she turns around. With an impudent look, Natasha crosses her arms too, as though daring him to admire the way the stress on her clothing accentuates her now-visible cleavage.

With a pang, Tony understands she’s made a mistake: Nat’s allowed herself to feel comfortable enough to tease him-- except, this wouldn’t be a tease if they really are who she’s claiming they are. Not in the way that challenging stance of hers is framing it.

If she were really Mrs. Natasha Romanoff Stark, she’d be far more brazen, because she’d trust him. She’d dare him to undress her. Hell, she’d be doing it herself. For a split second, he lets himself picture that, a world where they really are the leaders of the free world, with money, power, and sex appeal enough to scandalize the world.

He… doesn’t hate it.Tony hopes he doesn’t hate what they really are, instead.

Next Chapter...

[blankdblank]

The White Dove Pt 50 - Daisy Thief

.

Okay, so here is the final chapter and after this I will edit and start to post the rewrite on my Poke series. Can’t wait to see how people take to the changes. :) As always let me know if you want to be tagged.

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

The White Dove Masterlist

*.*.*

 “Let me know what else you will require.” Loki told Dr Selvig who had completed his daily routine of readying his station to handle the next leg of tasks. The Prince had just settled the Tesseract within its metal mounts to enable said tasks after bringing it out of his bedchamber having spent the night guarding it again.

Out of a new beam of light a potted daisy appeared between the Prince and the glowing cube, and for a moment dimmed the entranced glow in his eyes as he took in the living gift he had been sent. “Is that a daisy?” Selvig asked.

“A daisy,” the battered Prince murmured to himself in a ease of it closer so he could steal a whiff of its natural scent. A lovely new gift from somewhere else within the cosmos for just him. “I know just where I shall place you, most welcome and precious daisy.” The Prince hummed. Turning to his bedchamber to place it amongst the empty singular mug, three mugs once filled of candies to enchant a sunshine globe to help keep the magnificent gift he had been given alive. Another hint to the gardens ever tended to by his mother to aid hopefully a terror free sleep for once.

*.*.*

 “Where the hell is my daisy?” You muttered making Eddie chuckle. “I’ve checked the settings three times, this is four mugs and about half a bag of candy now my daisy, Eddie.”

“Alright,” you muttered turning to grab another potted daisy which you tentatively carried to hover over the first ring and released it. A second flash came and under the second you ducked to grab the pot you lifted to look at saying, “Now this is just an insult to my garden refusing half my best blossoms.” Lowly Eddie chuckled and you took the daisy back to its former home in the window. Again Venom had looped around your cast free arm helping to pop the painfully stiff knuckles and wrist. While for most people immobilization helped for you it actually made it a bit worse to gaining full free motion again.

 …

 “Ten feet,” you said situating the second of the rings that distance apart, one aimed up and the other down at a used mattress you found inside the old hotel in between owners. After a nod you said, “Nothing crazy about this at the least.”

“I got some of your bees, we’ll know where it comes out and help plan a way back.” Eddie said in a reluctant tone. “You sure you don’t want me to jump too?”

“Ancient One said best to keep someone to watch the gateways.”

“Alright, don’t like it, but here we go. Ready?” he asked while you stepped closer to the lower ring readying yourself mentally to jump. Fully armored up just in case. A final tug was given to the ends of your gloves and then up you sprung, to tuck your legs to your chest and almost cannonball through the ring. Bright and brilliant the ring let off a beam of light while inside of the second simply shimmered after you had passed through it. Heavily Eddie huffed and said to Venom, “I really don’t like this Buddy.”

Feet first in a sudden drop into a vault like room down into a crouch you landed. Swiveling your head to inspect the grey stone room without any windows and a steel door bolted shut. ‘Hello’ soft and familiar sounded in a voice you heard while rescuing Clint the word turned your head.

Atop a block of a table sat the Tesseract opposite a series of your mugs and your lost daisy that was basking underneath the glow of its magical orb of sunlight that lit the rest of the otherwise illumination free room. Just a bed was here aside from a deeply breathing body that suddenly became more prominent to your attention as it seemed to wince and groan. Like lightning, blackish blue barbed vines coursed around the figure you stood to quietly creep closer.

Black leather was met by slicked back raven locks on the tall broad figure that upon circling was clearly in some sort of armor like what one of the cloth mastering Beserkers had shared of Asgardian styles. The face pale and chiseled with hidden eyes by darkened lids to the bare of teeth in splitting lips to snarl through another pained wince, lost in a trance of some sort they didn’t seem to notice you. Yet something about the evident pain of this already wounded figure had you crouch and reach out to their upturned palms, not disturbing the scepter angled to rest against their chest and crossed legs. Just when their fingers clenched your hands retreated and your glowing eyes snapped to the face of the still close eyed victim of some mysterious form of pain.

To the side extending a leg, against touching their hands, you decided to move around to this mysterious figure’s back and timidly raised your hands to hover around his temples. ‘Who are you?’ you asked mentally and drew in a deep breath spreading a glow across your palms to try and tap into what he was facing.

“Prince Loki you try my patience,” a purple skinned figure facing away from the Prince lowly rumbled. While you began to glare at the alien bird faced man who stepped closer to the legendary figure you had prayed to for years now you found trapped in this prison of a place contacting this duo. On whom you saw the evident seam within his chest plate to his armored outer robe where you had stabbed him prior to murdering Thane. “I will not be mastered by silver tongues or false actions any longer. Only those who are useful to me are welcomed to be in my presence. Are you? Prince Loki, tell me honestly, is there any use to you at all?”

“Oh,” you muttered to yourself as he turned, causing the Prince’s ear to twitch now sensing the being behind him. In a look over the sizeable body in front of you that would be difficult for wrapping your arms around to fire powers through his link to these people. But you had to help. The wiggle in your boot had you grip Eir-Gram that engulfed itself in mist exploding to its full size enabling you to loop the sword around his shoulder to grip the blade lower on his left side in a plant against his back. Into his palm the wide eyed Prince summoned a dagger out of reflex only to watch in awe of the sheer terror on Ebony Maw’s face in his stagger away seeing who had taken hold of the puppet Prince. A telling glow around a mask the figure knew to be allied to his almost killer who now had found him again to finish the job.

Bright and brilliant to the turn of the purple figure the jagged volcanic glass like surface of the planet, with little surface not hovering like floating pathways from Spyro’s world inside a purple and pink sky littered with clouds of space dust, burst apart. This quiet place suddenly let loose from the earth plant life like what you had never seen or felt while the air ignited with something microscopic in the air that wished to spring to life as well like invisible phoenix. Bursts of light filled the eyes of the bird man mid shatter of earth around the Prince who tore his mind free to be possibly alone in the presence of this figure capable of terrifying Ebony Maw who had tortured him frequently.

Right around on a knee he used his scepter to push the blade he saw against his chest to face his helper, who he found inside four rings of electro magnetic bees that warped and sank in to seep into the armored body of his savior. Female, powerful, and on the echo of dances the bees gave off he could hear the title of Queen summoning the mental whisper of a name he could only assume to be linked to a being of such power. One out of legends he himself had grown up on who was foretold to be reborn upon Midgard, Lagertha.

“Prince Loki, see you got my daisy.” Somehow escaped your lips in the sweep of his eyes over your glowing self mid shrink of your blade that hopped back into your boot after you had adjusted onto the toes of your boots mid backwards crouch you retreated to in his turn.

“You issued my gifts,” he barely found the breath to whisper in a voice you could listen to for years on end. All the same those eyes, not obscured by their former entranced glow, blinked in a crisp blue fitted perfectly to his face that seemed to stir something inside of you. “How, my door.” He said taking notice of his undisturbed seal upon his door.

“Cube,” you said gesturing to the Tesseract he could not look to, unable to tear his eyes away as a bone chilling sense of freedom hit him and he wanted to remain under his savior’s protection just a few moments longer. “Interfered with my portal.”

“Pluto?” you heard through the bees from Eddie drifting your focus to how you might get this legendary figure in front of you to let you out of wherever you were being held at the mercy of the God of Mischief now his tormenters let go of him.

“Portal to where? What sort of realm do you claim dominion over? Must be indescribable.”

Just a sharp inhale was his answer before the cube lit up to tear you through a tunnel of light beams inside open space until hard and fast you came to a stop hovering above the used mattresses across from Eddie who rushed over. “Pluto!” Out at you his hand extended for you to rest yours inside of to tug you out of the glowing beam that shut off when you exited it.

“Okay, found bird man.” Instantly his brows shot up.

“Bird man has the tesseract?!”

“No, Loki, apparently does,” and you filled him in on everything, “Apparently he didn’t know he’d been given my mugs and daisy. Cube might be bringing him supplies.”

“Might be something more mischievous than that.”

“Odd, finding Prince Loki there.”

“Ooh how’s he look? Didn’t say.” He asked with a creeping grin.

“Um, black hair, these bright blue eyes, and, I mean he’s got nice cheekbones.”

“Hold up,” Eddie says smiling now, “You noticed his cheekbones?”

Thankful for your mask you replied with a creeping blush, “He’s, good looking.”

“This a brewing crush we talking here? Cuz the only other crush you’ve had so far is Karl Urban aside from the given Hugh Jackman.”

“I, might, I mean it was just a few minutes, and he’s got nice shoulders,” making Eddie smile wider as you mimed a hug, “Had to wrap my arms around over his shoulders with Eir-Gram to help unstick his mind from that bird man and his other purple buddy. Had a bit of trouble reaching fully with his shoulder pad things, but he’s, broad, why are you smiling at me not my fault he’s got some size to him and I noticed.”

“All I’m hearing is he’s huggable from you,” making you look away and him move closer to hug you.

“This is incredible. Now you unstuck his mind, he’ll find his brother and share all on about the tiny main squeeze he wants to hunt down to hug properly.”

“Now you’re being unrealistic.”

“He doesn’t swoon more than a bit over this encounter he is mad in the head and out of armor he gets one chance to fall head over heels for you.”

“He’s a prince, probably got a whole harem like Selvig said Thor boasted on about his past before meeting Dr Foster.”

“Oh I’ll break him in half no matter how broad he is if he doesn’t pick you.”

“You can’t make him pick me,” you said mid giggle.

“Oh the universe will handle that. One look at you and I bet he won’t be able to stop thinking about you.” Your head tilted as you sighed and he said, “It’s a proper crush, this is groundbreaking stuff here you deserve to have him groveling.” Making you giggle and turn away, “Okay not groveling don’t want him too desperate, but you deserve a respectable amount of passionate obsession. Emphasis on respectable he tries to climb anything close to your fire escape and we are having words on boundaries but flowers, candies, teddy bears, the sweeping grand gesture on occasion while being mindful of your schedule and need for sleep and tolerance of social exposure limits.” He said making you giggle again, “Would be perfect. How’s his voice?”

“Nice, like narrator level sort of hum to it.”

“Morgan Freeman narrate a phone book level or Stephen Spielberg read just his book on one character and then please for the love of funyons please shut up.”

“Morgan Freeman.”

“Very nice.”

“And he has a cape.”

“A cape! Man has flair. We’ll meet I’ll talk to him, I’ll feel him out for how he’ll mesh with the family and we can build on that.”

“Only way we’ll meet again is if Clint or Rhodey drag him along to when they check in on me. Hardly doubt SHIELD will let them just roam around especially with Thor trying to lord about amongst mortals.”

“You forget, you are repairing their uncle’s lost ship.”

“Which they might demand back.”

“There will be no demands. Finders keepers.”

You giggle again. “I suppose if they are princes they’d have their own and might demand a race or something.”

“See, now you’re talking, race then some food after in a celebratory meal when Eldfalls kicks their butts and they are left in awe of you.”

“For now, how long do you think I should wait to test the rings again?”

“I’ll go this time. I see Prince cheekbones I’ll grease the wheel for you.” With an eye roll you watched him just about dive over the proper hoop to come to drop inside the light beam that shot out the other ring. “Aww! And I had the perfect one liner for the Prince too! Damn,” he said popping out of the beam with a gentle tug of a hand from you then let go to bring out his pocket journal he used to write it down. “Never gonna remember it if I don’t write it down.”

 *.*.*

“Here you are, Barton,” the familiar voice out in the center of Iowa forced Clint to grow rigid and swivel his head to find the source here on his family property. “Quite peaceful,” he said, closing the distance between them as Clint stole a glance to the barn his daughter was in, then back to the Asgardian Prince with ruby red eyes and skin in blotches turning pale blue. “Good, I require quiet.”

“Oh,” Clint said. Suddenly the taller body slumped into his own he had to grip his leather armor, “Okay…” A warm liquid over his hand had him lift it to find a trickle of blood seeping out from underneath the armor causing him to call out to his wife inside the house he hoisted up Loki onto his shoulder spying the levitating bag with a daisy poking out of the top. “Get the first aid kit!” Clint called out when she was seen on the porch causing her to hurry back inside leaving the door open for him. “How, do you get this off?”

“Whoa!” their oldest boy said making her try to nudge him out of the room. “Is he an alien?! He’s blue!”

Clint said, “Not nice to call people blue, son.”

“But he’s blue!” the boy protested. “Nobody’s blue! Unless he’s cold, is he cold?!” Reaching out to touch the stranger to answer his own question.

Clint as he managed to get the front of the shirt undone opened it to see a blood stained shirt replying, “Kind of, why don’t you go find a nice candle from mom’s sick kit she lights for you guys, hmm?”

“Ooh!” the boy said tottering off, “I’m gonna get the grass one!”

And Clint chuckled to his struggle to get the armored shirt off the broad shouldered former captive of his with limbs for days. “Oh ya, lawn trimmings, really calming,” he muttered to his wife, who chuckled helping to tug the armor free she tossed over the chair along the wall then went to undo the boots of the stranger.

“We know this guy?”

“Thor’s brother Loki.”

He said looking at his wife whose head tilted to the side, “The one who locked you in a cage?”

“More a cell than a cage. He was, nice. Plus I think he was under the same mind trick, his eyes didn’t look as ominously blue. They’re, blood red now, which can’t be good. He’s bleeding and said he needed quiet. I’ll call the team, till then, we can spare some Pac-man band-aids the kids hate to use. If anything I can’t get answers if he dies.”

“He puts one toe out of line and I’ll cut it off,” she assured him making him smirk hearing her head upstairs to answer the cry of their toddler she was pregnant with when her and their other children were taken by Thane.

“Duly noted love.” He said starting to take off Loki’s shirt as his daughter came into the doorway, “Sweetie, fetch Daddy some towels and a bucket of water, the sick bucket in the bag so we know it’s clean.” He said and she nodded hurrying off to get them.

.

Two hours had passed and Clint was on the phone with Nat, “He just showed up at my place and collapses, now he’s got this dome of light around him and he only woke up enough to say not to hurt his daisy and that Lagertha gave it to him.”

“Lagertha, same one Thor was all droopy eyed over when we didn’t know her?”

“Same one I would bet.” He said eyeing his boys who had crept into the dome tucking a stuffed duck and some healing crystals and some drops of peppermint oil their mom used on them when they were sick down the chest that steadily rose and fell. “Thor said he thought his brother was dead, any idea how we get word to him? And please don’t say the kid.”

“She’s the only one who has been to Vanir, she’s met Heimdall, apparently knows exiled Asgardians. Met Hogun, apparently kicked up some sort of uprising, been to that elf planet. Plus she has their uncle’s ship and she found you, broke you out of an Asgardian cell. Other than that, I don’t know, we can buy a book and look into Norse prayer rituals I guess, see if anyone hears us.”

“Funny,” he said, “I’ll keep an eye on him. Already turned blue and his eyes bright red with markings all over him I haven’t seen on Thor. But it makes me remember, kid said the anomalies were Asgardian like, he seems close to Asgardian best we know.” A bright flash outside had him turn his head, “Okay, Bifrost just went off outside. Call you back looks like they brought meds.” Hogun outside with a pair of Healers were welcomed in and after assessing the wounds of the Prince confirmed they finally sensed him and could quiet the search Queen Frigga had issued for her lost favored son. “What’s wrong with him, all blue with red eyes like that?”

“Loki is Jotun, a Frost Giant, so we are told adopted at birth. The injuries are old and deep. Crown Prince of Asgard has been tortured.”

“Crown, isn’t Thor next in line?”

“Thor’s removal from Odin’s favor is no less since his exile was replaced for imprisonment on Asgard after wreaking destruction upon innocents. Loki is Frigga’s son, he is heir to the Queen, no matter our belief of the AllFather our AllMother is beloved and formidable. The price for harming her son will be blood, when he awakens from his Odinsleep Prince Loki will share who has kept him from her protection and how he was freed.”

“He said Lagertha freed him.” At the brow lift from Hogun he asked, “What? You’ve heard of her too? Thor was all in awe over her legendary self being reborn.”

“I shall convene with young Pluto,” the warrior spoke parting Clint’s lips, “Shall this be truth she shall have the answers we seek.”

In a flash of light Hogun was gone leaving Clint to whisper to himself, “What?” and call Nat back.

 *.*.*

 Two bounces atop your palm and a candle was caught a foot from the ground after Hogun had transported himself in the middle of the shop you were opening on your weekend. “You are injured again.” his hand extended to gesture at your cast wrapped arm.

“Not really, bit complicated to explain,” you said. “Everything alright?”

“Prince Loki has been discovered upon an Agent of SHIELD’s property wounded and the target of lengthy torture. I have been informed he claimed to have been rescued by Lagertha. Do you have a deeper insight to what he has endured?”

“Well, I made these transport rings that the Tesseract had been interfering with,” you said and he narrowed his eyes slightly in focus on the details. “Stealing my mugs and a daisy. He was in a trance, someone was hurting him.” Off the back of one of your bees the image of Ebony Maw was projected for him that he memorized. “I touched his head and I saw this bird faced man who came with Thanos’ son, Thane, with this big guy, didn’t see his face, who was trying to tell Loki he was useless. I broke their bond over him and the Tesseract took me back to my rings after that. We didn’t really talk more than a few seconds. I don’t know what happened after I left.”

“Thank you, this is very enlightening to many details.”

“Is he alright?” You asked hastily luring a twitch of the corners of his mouth to tick upwards.

“Loki has entered Odinsleep, he will heal in due time, now under our protection and watch of our AllMother. I shall leave you to heal and return to your mortal duties.” Just like that he was gone again to return to Vanir so he could conference with Queen Frigga upon what he had learned. While they had no name of the culprits yet, as they seemed to be beyond your scope of knowledge within this realm, Loki would surely answer that upon his waking.

A true Shieldmaiden under the protection of their Queen so long for her bloodline precious to the Asgardians to whom they kept true now was privately praised by Queen and golden eyed guardian alike. While Odin to the kingdom proclaimed their lost Crown Prince discovered to a jubilant populace and a puzzled blonde Prince locked inside his cell inside the inescapable prison.

There were few answers for now but consequences too numerous to name would be doled out on the one responsible once discovered to get justice for the future King. For centuries was used to being mocked, now was seen in a new light since account of Thor’s time on earth shifted attention to the now deep cracks within the once golden Prince’s façade and opinions upon his former task of ruling their people. One other was seen as so mischievous and elders were again sharing tales of the young woman who grew to be their insurmountable Queen, stories ringing true to her prized son who in gaining control of his might would one day surely guide them true. A young future King with an alliance to the reborn Lagertha, that gave a brighter hope to the next generation carrying on the legacy of Asgard.

 *.*.*

 “Welcome back,” the jewelry shop manager spoke upon your entrance in a far more suitable new fury lapel double breasted coat you had bought to replace your old one, still second hand like the blouse that tucked into your worn jeans halfway coated by tall boots to counter the icy conditions outside. One handed you undid the scarf that had been pulled up to your chin in the unbutton of your coat to not overheat inside this warm shop as snow kept piling up outside, as it had atop your hat you shook off before entering.

“Thank you, I wasn’t expecting it here so soon.”

Making him chuckle as he went to fetch the tray containing your order from the back room. With apparent care he opened the box and allowed you to turn it this way and that to the intrigue of the other workers who saw he was about to do anything to make this ring perfect for this odd client. Moonstone was a laughable center stone to most of the employees here, accent stones were lovely, however a lone stone on a ring and they imagined it to be the most hideous of rings. At least until they saw the instant glow to your face and eyes mid smile in thanking their manager. “Thank you, been having some rather absurd dreams without my ring. It looks so much better than the first one. I will do my best to keep it safe against my chaos.”

Again he chuckled and helped you to ease it back into its box so that he could place it inside a small velvet bag for the trip home. While not as alluring as diamonds a simple search had stomachs shift as to what the ring could be intended to help with out of what a single internet search could pull up for your name. They wondered what you were fending off with it and more importantly if it actually worked for you or not. Right to Eddie’s you went to find him with a cake and ring box awaiting you so he could help you put on both of the replaced rings that several, including Gwen, would make certain to give notice they saw you had replaced your old one as they had your leather tassel bag and your new coat.

 .

 Confetti in the shape of seals littered the streets early Valentines Day morning while you waited in line outside the door of a packed café for a warm cider prior to your cast removal appointment. Horns like trombones on a parade of seal shaped cars sounded in whale moans instead of their usual noises to announce the fanfare. Right off the middle float car Baby Seal Man leapt mid cackle to hurry to your side.

Firmly his hands took hold of your shoulders when he came to a stop. “I have done it! Finally done it! I am now, a Marine, Biologist!” the final two words paused between them for emphasis. As rapidly as he’d take hold of your shoulders he let go now flashing a business card between his fingertips you timidly accepted. “That jet blasting rocket knocked off the head of my thesis council and finally after three years of argument and revisions I have earned my license and was able to complete an internship! I am off to the Arctic for my first research job!” and in a rush forward he stole a tight hug from you. “And it’s all thanks to you that I get to pass on to Misique the stupendous news!” A wink was snuck in there and the confused crowd watched his spring back off to his parade float. Shouting when he landed upon it, “My congratulations and wonder for what you might achieve are boundless, my friend!”

His news by noon would be shared with the staggering confirmation of new graduates who were deterred by the single man who refused 90% of all thesis papers sent his way to qualify for degrees. This year would be the largest graduating class yet for many schools using the same council to grade such lofty papers and fields in great need of bodies would find a mini surplus of new hires to gain experience on top of the internships most took while in wait for acceptance of their papers. Each who could only shine a glimmer of light upon the tragedy of that jet attack from the Goblin.

.

For once you took the first step on this dating related holiday you had sent an edible arrangement on Valentines day. Not to flirt or stake a claim but to prevent an emotional slump on the Hallmark holiday associated with happiness, and if by sixth sense alone you knew when Dr Strange had received them.

Even with terribly trembling hands those fruit slices were savored and inside the hospital you saw the man himself with hands in his jacket pockets waiting for you to arrive for your appointment. “Thank you, certainly won’t get scurvy for your efforts.” A hint of a smirk ghosting onto his lips as you flashed him a grin, “For now, if you don’t mind, I can sit with you. Technically I’m not on staff, so I’d be a guest.”

“Well I’m not going to risk you trying to shimmy your way through the air vents and break your hands again in the fall.”

“Somehow, you know me too well. How long have you known me again?” he asked making you giggle in his turn to show you to the proper waiting room to sign in and wait for Dr Palmer to help remove your cast.

Tools were brought out with a spare set of hands brought in to help steady your arm for Strange to look on and get the first look of his work free of the cast. Scars of stitches had miraculously faded and with a scan by one of your hummingbirds the bones and nerves seemed to be fully healed, an absolute miracle for the doctors tossing a bundle of hope on Strange’s inner flame for his struggle. All the same Strange had you plan your physical therapy sessions on the same days as his twice a week to be able to monitor your progression, starting today.

Twice your size a burly man in scrubs with a smile on his face had named himself your assigned physical therapist. Seated at a table he led you to while Strange sat with his own to hear of how he had bested ideal healing time already and had his bones and head trauma healed within a month’s time just leaving the pesky nerve damage.

Hope hanging on by a thread that like you said it would heal now his exterior damage was gone and ample stolen glances your way as your trainer had taken hold of your injured arm. Loudly a pop from your wrist paired with a squeak from you had a few looks your way before he went back to feeling your muscles and gently guided your hand and wrist in a few motions.

“How does it feel?” he asked as he laid his fingers over the back of your fingers to gently guide them in a bend forward.

“Middle finger is still stiff. Need to pop it feels like.” With care he eased fingers around your middle finger he tightened his hold on to muffle the pop it gave off.

“Keep it gentle, gradually we will work you back up to weight and full flexibility. I know you will just be raring to get back to casual motion, however, patience is key. Weight to minimal and just get used to simple movements of your hand again.” Was the final word upon the end of the first round of basic finger and wrist exercises you flubbed to show some sort of reluctance for your middle finger and thumb to give the man something to progress from in each visit. Though that did grant Strange something positive to take from his less than positive ended session. Hopeful alone in that the delay of reception of the shot of yours was all this was, a window of time he hoped to be coming to a close until it would start to show improvement.

 .

 “Okay, now that I have my hand back the final strip has been finished off and now I am making some test swatches for the proofing process. My grandfather sent out some resin and I have been a weaving machine. Can’t just use just the wool for the full sail so I have to work in some Asgardian metal thread and some of the other chord to match the standard of my sail to see how it will handle the resin.”

The video was of the weaving of the spare sail swatches aided by your bees to draw the chord and thread from one side of the cloth out of the back and through again to the needle you used to add the special design to the base pattern.

Two weeks and all your spare time landed you with six swatches of sails that inside the garage the Beserkers who flew in helped you to heat up buckets of water. Into a copper tub each was poured for the former sail workers with great admiration for your work on just the test swatches to help shove and stomp on them in the water beside you. Muscle memory for them helped to get each to the right tightness and strung up from Eldfalls’ mast to dry with help from his magical fire as a second group readied the resin.

Off his deck with masks they guided you over to show you the proper wrist technique to coat the swatches entirely. Not that they wouldn’t help you with the full sail but completely so they could pass on this rite to another willing soul after so long of being without the honor of doing so freely.

From the moment it was dry packed into the bus to the freezing waters you went again with Eldfalls in tow to hover above the dock as Eddie confirmed the rental of a small wooden sail boat with the man at the desk tied off there for you to use. Half the group would fit in with you and Eddie and the second took a loaned metal motor boat used to help tow the sail free wooden boat out to sea.

One by one out of numbered pouches the sails were tied onto the mast and hoisted high to take the wind to help coast the heavy boat a bit. Each far too small to carry it properly but were large enough to show off how the skills used to weave marked weaknesses for various patterns of waterproofing. Wear at corners or in the dead center, like the third section before over your radio a call came from a yacht which was driven up to your group. To which you replied, “Listen here moron, it’s an experiment, for the third time so just take your pollution craft and go find someone else to talk down to.”

Not twenty minutes later as you readied the fourth sail in place to hoist up you heard the radio go off for the shore patrol who had been warned of a pair of boats that were stuck out on the water and refused the help of the rich people on the spacious yacht to be carried ashore. “Shore patrol this is the so called wooden dingy,” you said watching the distant speed boat on the dock being readied for the next team who did patrols for the day. “I told that dingbat with the yacht I am experimenting on sail swatches for waterproofing techniques who said I was spoiling his pictures of the water.”

Laughter was heard through the line as the same man responded, “We have reports of weather currents changing, roughly how long will your experiment run? Should the wind not change we will have to clear these waters against incoming storms.”

“I have two more swatches then we will be heading ashore. Only rented the boats for three hours.”

“Enjoy your experiment and we will keep you informed of any abrupt changes.”

“Honestly,” you said putting the radio down on the deck. “Can’t even escape the deep pockets out in the ocean.” Making the others chuckle in Eldfalls’ next circle of the ship inside the water like a giant metal crocodile with the top of his head and back visible using his wings to help propel him forward and turn. “Back to the top,” you said gripping the rope to hoist the new sail piece into place that upon being tied off tightened the tug on the anchoring rope as the breeze started to carry the boat a few feet.

“Number four, seems intact,” a scan confirmed the fact and after noting that in your notebook following the process of repairing Eldfalls you returned that section to its bag and pulled out number five.

“What do you think?” you asked one of the sail makers, “Four or six?”

“Six would be best for smaller ships, for a sail your size should choose four.” She said and the whole group was raring to go back inside the garage to do another round of fulling the whole sail.

Bucket after bucket of hot water filled the same copper tub and a lengthy chunk at a time once the grommet holes were stitched and with chord tied onto the copper pipe you were using as a sail support dangling from one of the beams from the ceiling. To their amusement you caught on and showed a latch onto the process like a natural.

Side by side each panel was strung up until the whole sail was windproof and hung tighter shrinking it down a fraction. And where some might use machines to stitch the sections together due to the Asgardian metal element to it you had to use more of the metal thread to load into a needle and hand stitch each section together.

Zig zags were the go to pattern on a sail on this planet, while the talented sail makers joined you in completing the intricate clover like stitches between connection points of the metal layers of the design. Like a supporting net that layer would hold the sail intact and work with the storm battling capabilities Eldfalls had. He sat up watching the group effort, those stitching and those helping to raise the supporting bar a couple inches at a time with more who pressed the metal grommets into the stitched holes ready for them across the top and bottom.

Half of Saturday and well into Sunday evening the busy work was complete and using the successful technique resin was spread across the sail material on both sides then left to dry. Pattern disguised, a teaser clip like several others was posted to share the sail was complete and fulled, simply awaiting the print of the securing mounts to connect it to the mast and support beam.

Unlike usual sails you showed diagrams of the knob ended fixtures off the loops to attach inside the sail grommets so that the sail could expand and fold by command of the controls. That like the mast would take some time to get the fittings just right, at least a few printing tries Eldfalls would have to approve. All the same with care the sail was taken down and folded up inside a disguising cloth to keep safe until those were ready to have you take Vili’s sail down to replace with your own. And now with the remaining wool and supplies you could use it however you wished to over the coming years.

Dinosaur comics again flooded the beginning of March as the reminder that you didn’t have a graduation speech. Dinosaurs and continued practice with your rings, now you and Venom were testing distances they could be used that would reach up to a mile. Fine distraction from that pesky speech and the fact that while you were finishing up the final weeks of your physical therapy the empty seat where Strange should be seated had you sneak through the hospital until you found Christine.

“His last email said he took off to some monastery.” When your brows furrowed she asked, “What is that look for?”

“Which monastery, my uncle went to one when my dad died.”

“Kamar-Taj in Nepal.”

“Oh that’s wild, my uncle’s a stone’s throw from there. I hope this isn’t a pattern and I wake up one day to a note Eddie I gone too to shave his head.” You said making her chuckle to herself.

“He’s chasing a healing tip. Some impossible patient who walked after a severe paralyzed diagnosis swears by the place.”

“Well hope it’s not like my uncle’s place he got rabies from eating a bat after they told him to not eat anything but rice water and leeks for a month.”

“I doubt it but now that image will be paying rent in my mind all day, thank you,” she said and you both slipped away to her giggles imagining Strange nibbling on a soap bubble coated wing and growling at people being shoed off with a broom to get his rabies shot.

Of to a late shift at the book shop you went to relieve MJ from her shift to head home herself. Lost mentally to the next test you would put your rings through an alarm you waited to hear for four years now had gone off. Bucky was being thawed out. Quietly you would be listening in to see where he was being sent and then pass on the word or intervene yourself. Uncertain of just what to feel yet as Hydra had stuck their last card on the table. And back to the means to keeping busy those same rings happened to be the reason for said thawing. A certain double agent had seen them in use by you and Venom then passed on word for brownie points granting Hydra their next conquest.

 .

 Alone in a room with Daredevil and Hawkeye, the latter who got knocked off a glider and caught by you, chose to help Misique out until he could get his team back on the com system that went down due to an odd interference. Someone was blasting Blue Man Group songs through the airwaves interfering with communications outside a series of channels.

A large sign dangling in the lobby had Hawkeye looking Daredevil over as he clearly was going the wrong way after saying he’d take the offices while you handled what sounded like a flooding boiler room in this place out by the pier.

“Hey, uh, Batman,” in Spanish you continued making him look your way, “Sign says it’s the hall on the left, third floor.”

“Ah,” he said then turned, “No luck for us, lemons.” Clearly struggling on the final word as he did causing you to shake your head and take your own path as Hawkeye went to clear his own rooms.

Soaking wet not twenty minutes later you were seen by Hawkeye digging through the cabinet he had grabbed hearing there was documents in there that would be useful for a case of his later. And under his jacket he shoved the file when you handed it over.

A sudden blast however had you all duck and rush for cover in opposing ends of the same intersection of halls, you with an arm across Daredevil’s chest as he tried to calm himself while he was unable to use his advanced hearing to see anything but you. Every now and again he would get over-stimulated and confused and be led around by friends. Numerous signed signals by Hawkeye had his curiosity grow all the more curious of what was up with this guy.

Elektra raced by, “Water’s rising, no evil monkeys!”

Hawkeye asked promptly, “What’s that about monkeys?”

“The see, hear, speak no evil monkeys,” you said and his chin angled downwards in a subtle urge for more clarification.

“I’m blind, you’re deaf,” Daredevil replied dropping Hawkeye’s jaw he clamped shut to follow you guiding Daredevil along.

“Year ago you go around a mountain to not share that, now you might as well post it on a bus,” you murmured making the blind man in your grip chuckle to himself.

“How are we just finding out about this?” Hawkeye asked and you glanced back at him in his rush to run faster seeing how high the water was coming from the growing edge of the storm that had come this far North to hit the state and others around it. “And why are we out digging for files in a hurricane?”

“One,” Daredevil answered, “I keep a tight territory, not much spill room, two, people refuse to issue due diligence and grant all the evidence in times of natural disasters. Usually have a watch a friend made me to help me read things but I snapped the band and it is being repaired at the moment.”

“Watch,” Hawkeye whispered to himself then asked louder, “You know Pluto?!”

“Odd to say we know a fair deal more about her than we do about our lovely bee here. Not to mention the help given to a few of that mortgage scam recently. What she did resonated with people, helping two of ours keep their homes they worked hard to retire in.”

To a parked van you all raced to catch Elektra who urged you all inside, including Hawkeye who made certain to take the seat at your side to ask lowly as the two new parents spoke up front, “Hey, what’d Pluto do, about those houses?”

“Bought them from the son of a clansman bank owner who bought the bank to kick out two retired black people he felt an inherited grudge with.”

“Just,” he moved his hand, “Bought two houses? For strangers?”

“Not strangers,” you said, settling your hands on your sore propped up knees, to help stretch your palms over them to hide the stiffness in your hands from breaking a wall earlier.

“She talks to you, right?” he asked, luring your head to turn to look at him. “Why hasn’t she just said what happened to her, who hurt her? We could help.”

“People die, you’re years late to save her, everyone wants to rush in, to name and know the pain,” you looked forward, “But you don’t know it, you feel it. We saved ourselves, but all everyone wants to know is what happened. Like we’re a war vet returning with a leg blown off. Rehashing it over and over isn’t going to change the fact a limb is gone and it hurts and now we have to put on a brave face so others don’t go rushing in to what they don’t understand. The Avengers didn’t help, SHIELD, who knew, all these years, didn’t help.” You said parting his lips, “Most of the people who hurt us are dead, much like the man Fury sent to check on Pluto’s past is dead now that he’s catching on to the pack that’s been hiding and guiding the herd.”

“What are you trying to say? Someone’s infiltrated SHIELD?”

“Infiltrated,” you scoffed, “It’s in the history books, welcomed with open arms, un-vetted foreign brilliant minds to help protect humanity from harms unlike that they would understand. But there are many ways and reasonings behind an oath of protection.”

“You’re saying there’s spies?” he whispered.

And you whispered back, “There’s a reason they never tried to snatch Widow back, because to them she never left their control. For an organization of spies the organization makes far too many dumb mistakes.”

 *.*.*

 “Hello Soldier,” Broke the silence of the room of a dozen men around the trained killer who woke up inside of a restraint chair without sign of his pupil. He always had you there to get started right away on the prep for the next mission when he could for a time get you out of here. Away from them. Even if only for a few days at a time was all he could spare. You were absent, his fellow Winter Soldier was not here either at your side to await orders for him to issue on your training. The men around him should have said something and yet they stood or sat trembling around him until Pierce had spoken up.

“Where is the White Dove?”

“On her first solo mission,” a lie, loud and clear the obviously louder and faster pound of the commander’s heart gave away this lie. You were being kept from him and the men around him eased back at the sudden darkening on his gaze and flex of his body to spring to action and find his coveted pupil. Still the lying Pierce continued, “In fact, that is why I am here. Is doing well, found a transportation tech that we want, these rings here.” He said showing a black and white photo he pulled from the folder in hand the Winter Soldier accepted in a stoic fashion, ready to be shown more clues of where his pupil was and how best to get to you. “Only there is a masked figure, Misique, who is keeping her from returning with the rings.” Another lie, all the same he took the second picture without show of the explosive rage bubbling over inside of him.

“She did well, out on her own, now she needs an extraction team. I want you to kill Misique and drag them back here with those rings. Bring our asset home.” Faking a breathy but confident laugh Pierce said, “Done a hell of a job on this one. Did a, phenomenal job,” even faster the heartbeat sped up to a point near to what might cause one to pass out or hint a heart attack was coming. More lies. But what about? The mission? Safety of his pupil? The more Pierce’s heart sped up spilling more supposed attempts you had made to get away from this highly trained individual thwarting any means of escape only heightened the rage and the demand for answers right now. “Bring her home.”

The final word hung in the air and heaving a deep breath when he left the room Pierce named the team going with the steadfast teacher, who with a murderous glare stood to ready robotically, not for the mission, but for one solitary reason. The only person he would believe was not here. The only mission the Winter Soldier had was to find his White Dove. And to keep her safe he would kill anyone, including the men who filed into the shielded jet with him, armed to the gills and distant from him. Confirming only one thing, they were gonna need every single round, charge and brutal handheld trick within their arsenal to bring him down if they were behind any harm to his White Dove. No matter the stance, on either side of the line, no one was going to stop him from finding his White Dove.

Continue into the sequel - Poke

[luvwich]

fic: Arpeggio

Jazz, sailboats, pining & smut. 154k words, complete, rated E

An ex-cop with a family to repair. An ex-corpo with demons and a death sentence. . . The grisly work at Edgewood is finished, but V and River aren’t done with each other just yet.

The Arpeggio jazz club straddled the seam between Japantown and Vista Del Rey, a cultural vortex where places like this still existed, hidden in the margins. Descending the stairs from the damp streets was like stepping through a tesseract into the last century. River had seen places much like it in old movies: smoke and longing thick in the air, blue lights, dim vinyl booths filled with strangers and their stories. . .

🔗 on ao3→

🏷️ related tags

#oc: valerie mathilde • #river ward • #otp: arpeggio

📸 vp & art

photoset by breezypunk

moody b&w shots

gotta live with a few question marks

🎧 playlist

[midgardnightmare]

TIME VARIANT TERROR

tva threat!loki x tva agent!reader

word count: 2.3k

summary: loki arrives at the tva after you take him in (because of the threat to the sacred timeline) and you try interrogation, but his charm and charisma prevent anything except for hate sex to occur.

warnings: (smut 18+) dom loki, bratty sub reader, angst, playful but a little bit dark, enemies to lovers trope but more so villain hate sex, {threesome??}

[gif not mine]

“come on, go ahead and take a seat.” you force the ever so handsome but dangerous god into the interrogation room. “i won’t take orders from you, mortal.” loki hisses. “i’m the one in charge here. who’s the one in handcuffs?” you tease.

you shove him down into his seat in this dim-lighted, stuffy, red room. “woah, darling, no need to keep any aggression toward me. if only you knew where that’d lead,” he smirks. “i’m not your darling, my name is y/n.” you spit. “very well then, y/n. i suppose you’re not a big fan of endearment then. maybe i should use those terms just to spite you.” you’re supposed to hate him, he’s evil, but you find his dark but playful, taunting attitude quite intriguing. questioning is still on track to occur, so you get out of your head and compose yourself.

you get situated and start staring into his deep green eyes, trying to seem as serious as possible in that moment. “you broke reality when you picked up the tesseract. was that your intent? or did you just carelessly continue to be classic narcissistic, selfish loki?” you begin interrogating. “why would you assume-” you counter, “oh i’m not assuming. i’m stating facts from the evidence i’ve seen of you over the course of your lifetime in the tva files i went through.” loki reacts with a slight sneer, “how invasive... but kind of cute how you now know all my dirty secrets”

tension between the two of you fills the air, intoxicating you and making your head feel all fuzzy. you never get like this, it’s strange. but you’re beginning to like it.

the intervention goes on, leaving every end of a sentence with a taut retort. things get heated when you go on to question him about his sadism. “do you enjoy hurting people, loki?” you inch closer and closer to his face. “n-no. i do it because i have to.” you can see the honesty in his eyes, the candor of his true feelings coming to surface, exposing that his destiny is forced on him to be violent. but you then notice a slight shift in his demeanor, a more sprightly and prideful energy, “though there are some situations in which i do, in fact, like to show some aggression.” the sly expression he has makes your cheeks grow red. his words and tone of voice don’t help your blushing either.

“seems as though you look a bit afraid, darling.” he almost begins to grin, as if he likes seeing you scared. not that you are scared- but now just knowing that he gets off on fear isn't very surprising. maybe had the brilliant trickster been wrong for once and read your expression incorrectly? odd, but possible. “i’m not-'' you try to interrupt him to get a few words in but to no avail. “don't worry. i’m not going to hurt you, love. in fact, i'm growing quite fond of you.” his gracious words twist your stomach in a knot, but you still can’t tell if he’s being genuine or not. “really?” just from the few minutes we've met. and after i’ve cuffed you and pushed you around to bombard you with aggravating queries.” he replies in a flirty tenor, “doesn't take me long to adore a beautiful woman.” your face burns red hot even more, “hmm, even then, i’m still not sure if i can trust you.”

“i won't, i promise.” “prove it.” “okay, uncuff me and see.” “fine, but don't try anything.”

the exact moment you set his hands free, loki instantly grabs your wrists at the table, and pulls you in, eyes grazing over your plump lips. he kisses you surprisingly gently, and then all of a sudden, the hostile hunk of an asgardian vanishes. you notice he used his powers to teleport behind you, and all at once, he grabs the back of your neck to forcefully bring you up into the air and then slams you down on the floor. he makes fun of how vulnerable and fragile you look under him. he mocks you, “aww are you afraid again? scared i’m gonna hurt you? it all depends on your behavior, love. now get up. i’m going to make you wish you never took my case.” you rebut, “oh you know it’s a little too late for that.” leaning down he practically spits in your face, “what was that? don’t act like you didn’t just hear me say you’re going to get punished if you aren’t on your best behavior. that is, unless you’ve wanted me to hurt you this whole time. to just get absolutely wrecked by me, your very own god on earth, and ending up with marks all over your body and my threats ringing through your mind.”

you didn’t know what to say, how to respond. you could barely keep it together, the wetness pooling in your panties prohibiting you from thinking clearly. “ah, speechless i see. you know, darling, i don’t think your cheeks were red out of fear, i think they were red out of arousal.” you look him up and down, studying his body language as your eyes drift down to the bulge in his pants. you feel a tingling sensation and you’ve about had it by now. “what are you gonna do about that then?” making a crack like that while lying below loki at his disposal is a dangerous move, but you’re getting too hot to just sit around and wait. “such a bratty little slut. maybe i’ll fuck the attitude out of you then. is that what you want?”

he picks you back up to a standing position with his telekinetic powers, and a coy smile spreads across his face as he acknowledges the addled look on yours when you remember the powers he has. “yes, your majesty” you bat your eyes and he can't tell if you're being sincere or mocking him again. “do you have any idea what you’ve done to me? feel how hard i am,” he guides your hand to graze his dick prodding through his tva uniform. “all that just from bickering with a pretty little slut like you,” he snarls and swears relentlessly.

“don’t call me that, you don’t know who i am.” but your expressions give you up nonetheless. “i’m gonna fuck you ruthlessly, like you deserve, slut.” he looks so tall and mighty, towering over you. “oh i’m a slut. right. well you’re a weak god if you can even call yourself one. prove me wrong.”

you’re striving to pester him as anger stirs throughout him, aggression coursing through his veins. “you have no rule over me. i am your superior. and you must address me as such.” the glorious force in front of you is bellowing in rage. “say yes sir.” you have no choice but to obey, no matter if you want to get hurt or not. “yes sir.” your proclamation seems more authentic now, he can tell. “good girl. now do as i say and strip yourself of all your clothes.” as you take each article of clothing off your marvel of a body, you observe loki using his powers again, only this time, he’s using them to create two versions of himself. or essentially just split into two separate lokis.

one of them is the tva threat you’ve been dealing with this whole time. the second loki is an exquisite sight, something you’ve never seen before- his god form, loki as himself but in the quite obvious royal ensemble. transcendental, otherworldly, illustrious attire. he’s clad in black, green, and gold, shimmering down from the horned helmet on his head all the way past his cloak down to his feet.

you can’t help but allow your jaw to drop to the floor. what a magnificent thing beheld in front of your beady eyes. “speechless again, are we?” you didn’t even know what to say in the first place. what the hell- how the hell- why?? you just have to wait to find out. the loki you brought to this room snakes toward your back and presses his body up against yours, and you feel a sudden gust of cool air, noticing when makes contact with your skin, his uniform is off. and proclaims, “i’m gonna ruin your beautiful cunt until you’re screaming my name, and there’s two of us now. but i know you can take it like a good slut, can’t you?”

“mhm, yes sir” a whimper nearly escaped you. you’re trying so hard to not let him break you, you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of submission, you still desire to have him see that you’re the tough agent that was able to catch him in the beginning.

the god-like loki begins to approach you and bends down a little bit to meet your eyes with his and hear him say “i’m just here for entertainment, darling, he’ll do most of the work.” tva loki slurs filthy words in your ear and starts drawing his member between your folds, unleashing a grunt from him and a whine from you as you and god loki bore deeply at each other only making things more arousing. you feel a swift jolt up your core and a cock thrusting into you. “god you’re so wet“ he actually let go and moaned, sounding so defenseless and defeated.

“fuck, loki-“ your soaking pussy is still getting wrecked from behind and the force in front of you has met your naked body and dragged his steady digits along your chest, drawing circles around your nipples and traces lines up and down your skin, touching each and every part of you. it’s so soft and gentle, but the balance, nay, counteraction between the delicate touching versus rough fucking is exquisite. he continues touching you ever so gracefully, and begins to snake his fingers down past your navel, reaching your clit. once again, he stares straight at you with his deep azure irises, and scours the place most understimulated. “mmm,” he moans, “that feel good, darling?” you can barely form any coherent thoughts, so all you can let out is a weak “mhm” and the loki behinds you loves this. he’s groaning and grunting as well as you, with a synchronicity of the rhyme of you two joining together in ecstasy. “now tell me, love. would you like to watch the other me stroke his cock? i think you’d enjoy it.” he commands the other loki, “go ahead, get off in front of her, she gets to watch this little show you’ll put on for her, what a glorious sight.”

the god standing before you, suddenly, amidst a paltry rush of air, has his great member held in his right hand whilst he persists playing with your alluring body further. it’s such a captivating view and as he strokes himself in front of you, you fall deeper into a state of lust and heat, ready to burst at any moment. “oh darling you look marvellous right now, look at you, fucking yourself on his cock,” he grabs your chin with his other hand and hisses in your face, “beautiful whore.” you move your hands from the wall to the loki who’s in front of you’s shoulders and his fingers find their way back to your clit again. shockwaves of lightning feelings shoot up from your core and restraining your lamentations gets harder and harder as time goes on, you can’t handle the amount of pleasure without screaming. you throw your head back and shriek, unable to withstand this overstimulation, and the coil building up in your stomach releases- leaving you breathless with your spasming walls still clenching and milking loki’s cock inside you, spilling out cum and provoking unholy swears and moans from the gravelly, glorious voice behind you. the force in front of you chases his peak, jacking off ruthlessly at this point from being so horny watching you two get it on and witnessing euphoric perfection display across a canvas of ethereal beauty. as the juices finish spurting into your pussy, he gets ready as his orgasm gets closer.

“let’s see those big breasts, darling- closer, i want to cum all over them.” he's encaptured by your breasts and for some reason, it makes you feel so good. the way he’s staring at them so intently, not taking his sight off of them for even a moment. fucking his hand so hard and fast, getting off on the sight of your boobs. you whimper at the thought of it, and maneuver yourself in a way he can get just the right position, and he cums- letting go, shooting out ropes of white onto your chest, watching his cum land on those big breasts of yours. “ohh darling,” moans escape him “look at you. my cum on your chest,” and the daunting man behind you adds, “and my cum in your sweet cunt” he grunts in your ear while slowly removing his cock.

both men are finished with you, and you are exhausted. the mischievous god in front of you spirits away and the case behind you has yet to conclude. “well what are we gonna do about you?” you turn around as loki magically blinks all of his and your clothes back on. “hmm not sure, darling, what do you want to do with me?” you ponder for a second, calculating the various moral and ethical solutions versus the outcomes influenced by pure lust. sin will always win. you decide, “after that, i don’t really care as much for what i should do as opposed to what i desire to do. so, loki, do me.” a smile grows on his face and he takes you in his grasp once again. “what’s that, love? you want me to fuck you again?” mentally preparing yourself for more bratty hijinks you have up your sleeve, you get ready to get wrecked again. “yes sir. fuck me, or i’ll have no choice but to cuff you again.”

“oh darling, i’m not the one who’ll be wearing the handcuffs this time.”

[lokitvsource]

Inside Marvel’s ‘Loki’: Sorcery, Time Travel, and a Mystery Villain!

For a roughly 3,000-year-old god, Loki sure isn’t showing his age. In the trippy six-episode Disney+ series that bears his name, he’s full of his usual maniacal vigor and charm, and no wonder: This time, Tom Hiddleston’s god of mischief — first introduced in 2011’s big-screen Thor as the troublemaker, shapeshifting brother of Chris Hemsworth’s god of thunder — takes center stage.

Loki, a time-traveling procedural drama, opens up the complex character in ways fans have never seen in the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s many films, but still maintains his cool mystery. “Loki’s a mercurial shapeshifter who seems to present one thing on the external when there’s perhaps another thing going on in the internal,” Hiddleston says. “He’s always worn many masks.”

And in this series, he’s getting a whole new look: a prison uniform. The story kick-starts where we last saw the prankster, 2019’s Avengers: Endgame film. In an alternate post–Battle of New York 2012 timeline, Loki absconded with the Tesseract cube containing the megapowerful Space Stone, which grants him the ability to portal throughout space. Smart planning, Marvel! “We knew we were going to take Tom off on his solo story,” executive producer Kevin Feige admits.

This Loki is a darker, meaner god; he hasn’t yet undergone all that brotherly character development from Thor: The Dark World, Thor: Ragnarok, and Avengers: Infinity War. The bright side? You won’t have had to see all the latest films to understand what’s going on.

When we catch up with Loki, his stealing the Tesseract has led to his imprisonment by the bureaucratic Time Variance Authority, formed to “ensure that time unfolds according to its predetermined outcomes,” explains Hiddleston. They are basically the timeline police, and he’s in big trouble.

Loki’s been stripped of his powers and his trademark green and gold ensemble, making him more human than ever. But don’t expect that to dim his light. “You can take his scepter away, you can take off the cape and the fine Asgardian leather and literally put him in a button-down shirt and pants, and he’s still Loki — he’s more Loki than you’ve ever seen,” Feige says, playfully adding: “And that’s not just because Tom Hiddleston looks good in any clothes at all, but he does.”

Luckily for Loki, the TVA needs his help to track down a killer who’s wreaking havoc on the timeline. Reluctant yet powerless, the inmate has no choice but to say yes. (In the trailer, Loki appears to drop in on Pompeii’s collapse and seemingly becomes ’70s plane hijacker D.B. Cooper, so his time jumps, whether sanctioned by the TVA or not, are pretty bold too.)

TVA agent Mobius M. Mobius (Owen Wilson, sporting a bushy moustache) is assigned to keep Loki on a very short leash. Mobius’ delighted fascination — he holds “the highest academic honors in the studies of Loki,” notes Hiddleston — makes the manipulator even more guarded than usual. “It’s a little bit of a chess match to gain Loki’s trust, but in that shared endeavor, there’s an interesting dynamic,” says Wilson, who likens the partnership to “Nick Nolte getting Eddie Murphy out of jail in [the 1982 movie] 48 Hrs.” For his part, Feige predicts Loki and Mobius “will be one of the most popular pairings we’ve ever had at Marvel.”

Viewers can also anticipate some ambiguity, as in Marvel’s latest TV forays, WandaVision and The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. Both had watercooler moments (“It was Agatha all along!”) but also plenty of plot and character details left as question marks (we don’t know who Sophia Di Martino is playing either). And while Hiddleston says the key element that makes Loki a fan favorite is his ability to astonish viewers, this adventure could leave a certain god the surprised one. “What we try to ask is, behind the slippery trickster, who is he really?” the actor says. “Does he even know?” You can bet the discovery will be a lively, ruse-filled ride.

[ohmygoodnessgraciouss]

Reality Check - Chapter 3

Thanks for the love!  It’s insane to me how quickly this blew up!  And I’ve loved hearing theories by you guys! The show must go on, so let’s not wait any longer ;) 

Summary: Y/N and Wanda were very close after returning in 2023.  The two bonded over the loss of their partners.  It wasn’t enough to keep Wanda grounded after she found Vision’s body though, and Wanda wants the best for her friend.  Unfortunately for Y/N, this means she’s going to be thrown into a reality she wasn’t expecting.

Missed the first part?  Read it here! Need chapter 2?  Go down to the tags and click #Reality Check Masterlist ! 

Scott led you to a nearby park.  You never managed to get those guitar strings for Loki, so you hoped he had more at home that he didn’t know about.  You sat down on a bench with Scott, who looked around carefully, as if to ensure there were no wandering eyes.  Not a person was in sight, but you assumed that was because it was the middle of the weekend.  Everyone was at home, spending quality time with one another.  

“I don’t understand still.  What is it that you wanted to ask me?” You asked him, once he finally turned back to look at you. 

“Do you remember how you first got here?” 

“Well, yes, you pulled us outside of the store,” You laughed.  

“No-” He shifted in his seat, “-Do you remember when you first came to this town?” 

“Of course, I moved here with my husband when...” You drifted off.  “When we...” 

He looked at you expectantly.  “Do you remember?” 

You shook your head, almost upset with yourself for not remembering.  

“No, I don’t.”

---

“Wanda, what do you think you can do about it?” You asked your friend who was pacing around your shared apartment.  She had her hair pulled back in a low ponytail and she was dressed in leggings and a sweatshirt.  It was clear she hadn’t been taking care of herself.  Some of the injuries she sustained during the final battle were still visible.  They complimented the dark circles under her eyes, showing you exactly how she felt on the inside.  

“Y/N, we have to go take him back.” She said, finally stopping in her tracks.

“You don’t even know what S.W.O.R.D is doing though!  Maybe they’re trying to extract important data from him.” 

“Or they’re trying to weaponize him.  Exactly what he didn’t want.” Her voice was stern, and she was trying to control her anger.  You knew she was right, but you wanted to believe it wasn’t true. 

“And you believe you could bust right in there, take his body, and get away with it?  Wanda, I know you’re hurting but this is absurd!” 

“You say it as if you wouldn’t do the same for Loki.” 

“Because I wouldn’t!” You hissed.  You stood up and walked over to the girl, whose eyes were starting to glow a dim red.  “Vis wouldn’t have wanted you to keep going after him like this.  He would want you to move on.” 

“That’s what everyone keeps telling me.  Y/N, I know you understand this feeling.  You said it yourself, you nearly went after Loki in that timeline after he took the tesseract.” 

“But I didn’t.  The opportunity presented itself but I knew deep down that I couldn’t do it.  This is our reality.  Our universe.  Our timeline.  My Loki is gone.  I can’t do anything about it.” 

“But what if we could?” She asked, zoning out rather quickly.  Wanda was no longer looking at you, but rather looking out into the open as if there was an opportunity that presented itself. 

“What are you talking about?” You asked nervously.  

“There’s nothing grounding us right now, Y/N.  Everyone is out there, partying, celebrating, having fun with their loved ones.  We don’t get to have that.  Not in the same sense at least.  But with my powers-” 

“Don’t you dare say what I think you’re going to say.” 

“We deserve happiness.  Even if it’s only temporary.” 

“You’ll trap yourself in there.  It’ll be your dream world and you’ll never want to leave.�� I know you, Wanda.  You can’t do this.” 

“Can’t I?” She stormed out of the room before you could say anything more.  You wanted to run after her, but maybe some space was what she needed. 

You regretted that decision three days later. 

--

“Neither do I,” He said, breaking you out of your trance.  He sighed dejectedly.  “You’re the first person I’ve had a chance to ask about this.  Anyone else runs away to do something else before I have the opportunity.” 

“What are you trying to say?  This is a perfectly normal neighborhood.” 

“I’m trying to say it’s the exact opposite of that, Y/N.  There is nothing normal about this town.  Nothing.  How did you get here?  Why did you come here?  Doesn’t it feel like everything is dull?  Colorless?” 

“Why would it be anything other than normal, Scott?  Are you trying to say magic is real or someone has this whole town hypnotized or something?  It’s madness!” You exclaimed.  “And if you believe that so much then why don’t you just leave?” 

“That’s the thing, I can’t.” 

“What do you mean you can’t?” 

“I mean there’s no way out of this town.  If you want me to leave, you first.  I’ll follow your lead.  But you’ll understand what I mean as soon as you get to the border.  It seems like it just goes on and on and you never reach the sign that says you’re leaving Westview.  There’s no way out.” 

You stood up from the bench quickly, like a lightbulb finally lit up in your head.  You shook your head and turned to leave.  “I don’t know what you want me to do here.  I’m happy with my life.  You just sound insane.  No wonder everyone tries to avoid you.  I have to get to the talent show.  My husband needs me.”  

“Then go to him, but mark my words Y/N.  Something is wrong.” 

---

“Loki, I’m so sorry!  I got caught up with someone at the store!” You gave him an apologetic smile.  He was standing behind the stage, tuning the guitar once more before he went on.  He smiled back at you when he saw you walking up. 

“It’s quite alright, love.  I’m just happy you’ll get to see me perform.  I think you’ll love the song I have picked out.  It’s one you haven’t heard from me yet.” 

“You mean I haven’t heard this one a dozen times this morning already?” 

“Not at all,” He grinned.  

“Well, I’m looking forward to it.  Break a leg, hon.” You kissed his cheek as a woman motioned for him to go up on stage.  She had her hair up and she carried a clipboard with her.  You realized you didn’t know her, so you walked over to her as you watched Loki.  

He introduced himself and began playing a song.  “Hey Good Lookin’” to be specific.  You laughed lightly as he glanced over to the end of the stage, giving you a small wink.  

“He takes my comments too literally sometimes,” You shook your head.  The woman smiled politely.  

“He’s a very good singer.  You’re lucky to have him.” 

“Oh, I am.  Sometimes I wonder what I would do without him.  He’s been my best friend for God knows how long.” You watched him turn to look at the crowd, a bright smile on his face as he sang the lyrics.  The crowd watched with light smiles as the man played. 

“That’s the best relationship you can have.” 

“Oh!  I’m sorry, I just realized I never introduced myself.  I’m Y/N,” You introduced yourself. 

“I’m Geraldine.  I’m one of Wanda’s friends,” She replied.  

Wanda seemed to pop up at the mention of her name because the next thing you knew you saw her next to you.  “How wonderful!  Hey Wanda, how are you adjusting to the town?” 

“Well, it’s been quite a big adjustment but everyone here is so welcoming that it’s easy!” She said, straightening out one of her gloves.  “Now it would be a little nice if my husband decided to show up soon.  We go on right after Loki.” She started fidgeting with her fingers.  

“Oh you two have met?” You asked her.  She seemed to freeze for a moment, before relaxing again and responding. 

“Yes, right before you showed up.  He’s so sweet!” She gushed.  

“Well, he is quite charming.  As I’m sure you can see by what he’s singing right now.  I mentioned Hank Williams once this morning and this is what I get for it,” You giggled. 

“Aw, that’s so romantic of him.” 

“It truly is.  But enough about me and Loki, Geraldine, when did you arrive in town?” You asked, turning towards her. 

“Oh, I’ve been here for a while, I just haven’t had the time to participate in any of these fun events until a few days ago. Perhaps we should have an evening out with just us girls one day, get to know each other,” She responded, 

“That would be great!  We could go out, find something fun to do, get a break from our husbands,” You said, laughing.  Wanda laughed a little as well.  

“I’ll have to see when I’m free,” Wanda mentioned.  “We’re still trying to settle into our home so life has been a little chaotic.  I feel like I need some magical stone or something to reverse time and give me a chance to relax.” All three of you chuckled at her statement. 

“Now that would be a wonderful tool.  If only it existed,” You groaned dramatically.  

“Well, either way, if you ever need any help settling in, let me know Wanda.” Geraldine mentioned.  You nodded your head in agreement.

“Yeah, don’t ever hesitate in reaching out.  We’re here to assist in whatever you need.” 

“You girls are so amazing!” She exclaimed, hugging the two of you.  You smiled and hugged her back.  

As she broke the hug, Loki walked off the stage and back to you.  “You were amazing, honey,” You complimented him. 

“Oh please, you weren’t even listening all that much.  But thank you anyway,” He kissed the top of your head.  Wanda and Geraldine watched with small smiles. 

“Wanda, Vision needs to get here in another five minutes otherwise I can’t do much more.  They’ll tolerate another break but that’s all I can do,” Geraldine mentioned, walking up to the stage.

“Thank you Geraldine,” She sighed, clearly frustrated.  

“He’ll show up.  He must know how much this means to you Wanda, so I have no doubt he’ll be here in time,” You said.  She nodded her head.  

“He’s never late.  He’s always on time, always punctual.” 

To ease her panic and worry, Loki decided to change the subject.  “I don’t believe we’ve met yet.  I am Loki,” He introduced himself.  You furrowed your brows in confusion. 

“I thought you two already met,” You asked.  

“Well I know she’s been in the neighborhood for a few days now, love, but I haven’t had the opportunity yet to properly introduce myself.” He responded.  

“I’m Wanda,” She smiled nervously.  She was trying to figure out a way out of this situation.  Fortunately, Vision was running over just in the nick of time.  He seemed out of breath, with his full magician’s suit on.  “Where have you been?!” She began to yell at him. 

You walked away a little, giving them space.  Loki followed closely behind you.  He seemed confused, but only by your expression.  It didn’t seem like he was concerned by Wanda.  “What was that about?” You asked him.  

“What do you mean?” He tilted his head slightly, much like a dog.  

“Wanda said that you guys met already, while you were on stage.  And then you act like you didn’t know her at all.” 

Before he could respond, you noticed a glint in his eyes.  It was like a red mist reflecting in them.  The color faded quickly, back to the grey you were used to.  He seemed phased out, like something else caught his attention.  “We briefly talked right before you arrived, so maybe that’s what she meant.” 

You nodded absentmindedly.  You didn’t believe him at all.  Too many things were becoming too suspicious at this point.  Loki saw how you reacted, hurt flashing in his eyes.  A part of you would’ve felt guilty if you didn’t feel like you were being left in the dark constantly.  

“Loki I wish I could believe you, but so many weird things have been going on lately.”  You muttered under your breath.  

“Y/N, what’s wrong, love?”  He asked, placing his hands on your waist.  He was concerned, but he didn’t know what to do. 

“It seems like everything is off.  I’m seeing weird things around this place, weird people.  It all started when Wanda came to town, and now there’s some weird guy that I met at the store and-” 

“Wait, what weird guy?” 

“The one that I bumped into a few days ago.  He talked to me today and he sounded absolutely insane.”  

“What did he talk to you about?” 

“He started asking me questions I didn’t know the answers to.  He started spouting out some weird stuff about the town.  I ended up walking away because he wouldn’t stop pressing about it,”

“I don’t trust that man,” He said, almost afraid. 

“Me neither.  But with the other weird and strange things happening now, I wonder if there’s any substance to what he’s talking about.” 

“Y/N, don’t start with this.  Don’t get yourself caught up with someone like him.  You’ll drive yourself mad with this.” He pulled you closer to him by your waist as you avoided his eyes. 

He lifted your chin with one hand, forcing you to look at him.  “There’s something wrong here, Loki.  Do you remember how we got here?” 

“How we got here?” He echoed. 

“When did we move here?  When did we get married?  When did we decide to get married?” You asked him. 

“That doesn’t matter, love.  The important thing is that we’re here now, together.” He pressed. 

“You’re avoiding answering the questions.” 

“We deserve happiness, don’t you think?” You froze when he asked that.  Something about that phrase, those words, were eerie.  

You pulled away from him quickly.  “Don’t say that.  Loki, I deserve to know how we got to this point in our lives.  I can’t remember what we did to get here.  If you won’t tell me, then I need some time alone.  I’ll be home later tonight, but please don’t follow me.” 

You started walking away, refusing to look at Loki.  You know you’d run right back if you saw the heartbreak in his eyes.  

W̵̲͓̱̹̻̜͖̟̺̲͕̍̉͑̀̈͜͝ͅh̴̨̻̠̫̫̲̟͖͊̃̐̓̈̅̄͜a̶̢̛̜̝̯̩̻̾́̐̓͛́͜ț̵̡̜̗͓̱̠̝̖͚͕̹̗͚͖͗'̶̧͙͉̜͈̖̹̠͍̓ş̴̢̡̥̰̤̱̩͓̹̦̠̥̞̎̾͊͘͜͠ ̴̡̙̬͓̻͉̭̗͎̙͕͌̈́g̶̛͉̜̯̥̍͒ö̴̢͙͇͍̮̮̝̗͈̲̬̪̯́͋ͅͅĩ̶̧͕̜͖͖͎̌́̂̐͗̏́͛̃̄͘͠͝n̴̨̢͙̼̩͕̼̮̬̪͙̊̽͊̓̇̈̀̈́͒̈́̓͘͜͝ǧ̸̱̮͕̮̻̻͇̖̪̯̳̂̈́̉̾͐͜͠ ̸̭̼̃͂̇͗̓̆͐̓͗̀͋̑̉͊͛ơ̶̡̡̧̩̤̙̤̯͇̝̞̫̤͓̆͑̓̉̌͂̃̓̍̋̄͘ͅņ̶̯͓̭̺̹̪̅̓̍́͗̅͗͘͝ ̶̢̡̼̗̙̤̫̳͇͓̻͉̼̯͈͐̔̄̄͊̈́̐̿̔̄̈́̕ṋ̴̭̫͖̜̫̦̀͆̒͘ͅo̸̗͊̋̏̇̊̾̿́̆̇̈́̑͝͝w̶̛̛̼̓̍̀͐̄̀̈́̈́̿̽̚͘͝?̷̳̜̜̺̼͙̜̰͊͊͗̆͒̋͜

“Darcy?” 

“What’s Wanda doing now?” 

“She’s performing a magic show.  It’s just like any other sitcom.  She’s trying to hide her powers because Vision has decided to go haywire.” She said, taking a sip of her coffee. 

“Wait, what’s that?” Jimmy asked, pointing to the background.  

“It looks like Y/N and Loki.” 

“It looks like they’re fighting,” She responded, pointing out their frowning expressions, their stiff body language.  

“Would Wanda script that?”

“I doubt it.  She’s apparently living the perfect little sitcom life after all.  She’d never want people fighting like that.” 

Suddenly, the television screen flashed for a moment.  The camera panned to the talent show, pointing directly at Wand and Vision.  You could no longer see the other couple. 

“She must’ve noticed.”

“And she doesn’t want anyone else seeing.”

.

.

.

.

Taglist: @emberfulclass @momoneymolife @high-priestesss @hailey-the-heathen​ @mochminnie @dpaccione @intricate-melody @lindseyrae20 @storminateacup15

[lokiondisneyplus]

For a roughly 3,000-year-old god, Loki sure isn’t showing his age. In the trippy six-episode Disney+ series that bears his name, he’s full of his usual maniacal vigor and charm, and no wonder: This time, Tom Hiddleston’s god of mischief — first introduced in 2011’s big-screen Thor as the troublemaker, shapeshifting brother of Chris Hemsworth’s god of thunder — takes center stage.

Loki, a time-traveling procedural drama, opens up the complex character in ways fans have never seen in the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s many films, but still maintains his cool mystery. “Loki’s a mercurial shapeshifter who seems to present one thing on the external when there’s perhaps another thing going on in the internal,” Hiddleston says. “He’s always worn many masks.”

📷SEE ALSO'Loki' Sneak Peek: Owen Wilson and Tom Hiddleston Meet For First Time (VIDEO)Marvel Studios introduces Agent Mobius in clip from six-episode series.

And in this series, he’s getting a whole new look: a prison uniform. The story kick-starts where we last saw the prankster, 2019’s Avengers: Endgame film. In an alternate post–Battle of New York 2012 timeline, Loki absconded with the Tesseract cube containing the megapowerful Space Stone, which grants him the ability to portal throughout space. Smart planning, Marvel! “We knew we were going to take Tom off on his solo story,” executive producer Kevin Feige admits.

This Loki is a darker, meaner god; he hasn’t yet undergone all that brotherly character development from Thor: The Dark World, Thor: Ragnarok, and Avengers: Infinity War. The bright side? You won’t have had to see all the latest films to understand what’s going on.

When we catch up with Loki, his stealing the Tesseract has led to his imprisonment by the bureaucratic Time Variance Authority, formed to “ensure that time unfolds according to its predetermined outcomes,” explains Hiddleston. They are basically the timeline police, and he’s in big trouble.

Loki’s been stripped of his powers and his trademark green and gold ensemble, making him more human than ever. But don’t expect that to dim his light. “You can take his scepter away, you can take off the cape and the fine Asgardian leather and literally put him in a button-down shirt and pants, and he’s still Loki — he’s more Loki than you’ve ever seen,” Feige says, playfully adding: “And that’s not just because Tom Hiddleston looks good in any clothes at all, but he does.”

Luckily for Loki, the TVA needs his help to track down a killer who’s wreaking havoc on the timeline. Reluctant yet powerless, the inmate has no choice but to say yes. (In the trailer, Loki appears to drop in on Pompeii’s collapse and seemingly becomes ’70s plane hijacker D.B. Cooper, so his time jumps, whether sanctioned by the TVA or not, are pretty bold too.)

TVA agent Mobius M. Mobius (Owen Wilson, sporting a bushy moustache) is assigned to keep Loki on a very short leash. Mobius’ delighted fascination — he holds “the highest academic honors in the studies of Loki,” notes Hiddleston — makes the manipulator even more guarded than usual. “It’s a little bit of a chess match to gain Loki’s trust, but in that shared endeavor, there’s an interesting dynamic,” says Wilson, who likens the partnership to “Nick Nolte getting Eddie Murphy out of jail in [the 1982 movie] 48 Hrs.” For his part, Feige predicts Loki and Mobius “will be one of the most popular pairings we’ve ever had at Marvel.”

Viewers can also anticipate some ambiguity, as in Marvel’s latest TV forays, WandaVision and The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. Both had watercooler moments (“It was Agatha all along!”) but also plenty of plot and character details left as question marks (we don’t know who Sophia Di Martino is playing either). And while Hiddleston says the key element that makes Loki a fan favorite is his ability to astonish viewers, this adventure could leave a certain god the surprised one. “What we try to ask is, behind the slippery trickster, who is he really?” the actor says. “Does he even know?” You can bet the discovery will be a lively, ruse-filled ride.

Loki, Series Premiere, Wednesday, June 9, Disney+

This is an excerpt of TV Guide Magazine’s latest cover story. For more of the exciting, action-packed fun, pick up the Sci-Fi Spectacular issue, on newsstands Thursday, June 3.

[five-rivers]

Loved 8

Danny found himself without human senses or even a rough analogue of a human body. Even so, he still had an understanding of his surroundings, alien senses leaving impressions on his mind.

His body was soft, boneless, rounded, unformed. He was intimately connected to, part of, and entirely surrounded by an infinitely greater being, whom he was dependent on. He was known, all of him, by this being.

If he’d had eyes to cry with, he would have, knowing that he would never be able to know this being as he himself was known.

Amusement and affection – or, at least, things that were like them – pressed into him as the being contracted around him. An object was inserted into the single orifice he currently possessed.

Slowly, Danny became aware of an intense… discomfort in that area. He couldn’t call it pain. He currently had no sense of pain. But he could feel it and he didn’t like it and it was growing—

He woke up, tangled in blankets, skin slick with sweat, head and teeth aching.

Except, he didn’t. He was in the Dream. But if he were in the Dream, what had that been?

Already, many of the details were slipping through his fingers. He could no longer recapture what he had felt, although the general events were still somewhat clear.

He… had sleeping here somehow peeled back the layers of metaphor through which he experienced the Dream? Or had that just been a different metaphor, no truer than this one?

He sat up – or, rather, he tried to. An unexpected weight around neck stalled him. Overnight, the chain of Clockwork’s Love for him (and his Love for Clockwork in return) had more than doubled in size. It had also been reinforced by thick, colorful, silk ropes wound in and out of the links as well as other, smaller, chains.

There were also two of them, now, leading in opposite directions. As if Clockwork’s Love was simply too great to be confined to a single representation.

More carefully this time, Danny sat up. At least the collar, despite being far, far heavier, was no longer configured like a neck brace. Danny could turn his head to look at things.

The dog, evidently sensing an opportunity, deposited itself in Danny’s lap. Danny, not knowing what else to do, started petting it, running fingers through shadowy fur. He had always wanted a dog. Although, he didn’t remember telling Clockwork that…

“Maybe I should name you,” said Danny. He wasn’t sure how he felt about naming a personification of his hate, but he wasn’t sure if that’s what the dog was, or if the dog was just a container for his hate. It was confusing. “How about Cujo?”

The dog wagged its tail agreeably.

“Cujo it is, then.” He sighed and looked around the room. It didn’t have a door or any other visible opening. Honestly, in comparison to everything else he’d experienced in the Dream, that was pretty pedestrian. He supposed he’d just have to wait until Clockwork came back.

Maybe he could take a look at some of those interesting objects along the wall in the meantime? Something in his mind whispered that they were his and they were toys. They could take his mind off the pain building in his jaw and temples.

He stood up and walked almost all the way to the edge of the depression in the floor before being brought up short. He stumbled and sat down abruptly. What-?

The end of the chain was buried in the floor at the center of the depression.

Oh. Well. This whole room was part of Clockwork, too, so Danny really shouldn’t be surprised. It wasn’t like the chain hadn’t acted like a chain before.

Still.

Being forcibly trapped in, well, a crib was infantilizing. Not that everything else about all of this wasn’t. This just seemed like a step further.

The collar hummed lightly against Danny’s throat, eliciting a croon as he reflexively attempted to harmonize. The act settled him somewhat, and he gazed blankly at the runes surrounding the depression. The drop between the depression and the rest of the floor was too high for him to get over by himself anyway… no, that wasn’t right… couldn’t be… he couldn’t see the runes if that was the case, he’d be too short… but the lip there was definitely too tall, he knew it…

He tore his eyes away, squeezing them shut against his suddenly raging headache. The dog, Cujo, padded over to him and sniffed him gently. Danny whined, trying not to cry.

It looks like your horns might be growing in as well, said Clockwork’s avatar, running a hand through Danny’s hair. Poor baby. Teeth and horns all at once. That must hurt.

“Horns? Like Nocturne?”

Yes. They will help you navigate the other layers of the Dream once they are fully grown. With practice.

Danny let Clockwork’s avatar lift his head, resting his chin in its palm. “Layers of the Dream?”

You did not think the Dream was as simple in structure as that place you call reality, did you, little Love? This place you have become familiar with is only the closest layer to that place, no matter how deep you go.

“But—” said Danny, trying to work out how that could be. The answer slotted itself neatly into Danny’s mind. “It’s… like a tesseract?”

More than that, but essentially, yes. The avatar was gathering blankets around Danny again, swaddling him. Danny squeaked and tried to twist away, but the avatar easily anticipated him, and the fight quickly went out of him.

Danny was carried from the room and brought to a long table covered in bowls. The bowls contained pastel orbs of various sizes and colors. A single piece of furniture shaped like a basket woven of silver strips sat next to it. Clockwork’s avatar set him down gently on this piece of furniture and several of the strips peeled off to wrap securely around Danny.

Time for breakfast, said the avatar, happily.

Mentally and emotionally, it was easier to eat the orbs than the obviously alive things of his previous meal. Physically…

Danny asked why the orbs were so tough and difficult to chew. The avatar murmured something about practicing using his teeth. Danny wasn’t exactly in a position to refuse, so he was filled to satiation and beyond, until every piece of food on the table had been eaten.

By the time Clockwork’s avatar lifted him again, he felt exhausted and disgusting.

“Can I go home now?” he asked.

You are home.

“You know what I mean.”

It would be remiss of me to let you go when you are still in so much pain. Besides, sleep is necessary for children such as yourself to properly digest food.

“Don’t want to sleep,” said Danny, alarmed. He didn’t want to go back to the place he was before, where he could not see, hear, smell, taste, or touch.

That is not the only place you may go, said the avatar. In fact, it is rather unlikely for you to return there unless you do so on purpose. It touched the place where one of Danny’s horns would eventually bud. It was tender and Danny whined. Which is not something you can yet do. It paused. Perhaps I could guide you to a… cozy layer. One you might find educational. Would you like that?

“I wanna go home. I feel icky.”

I will set up a bath for you when you wake up.

Danny moaned and tried to tuck his face into the avatar’s shoulder. “Don’t want a bath.”

You do need one eventually.

“Don’t wanna.”

The avatar lowered Danny back into the nest of blankets.

Sleep well.

Danny woke up. This time in an actual crib. A mobile with star shapes hung overhead. He reached up with a chubby baby hand. A medical bracelet jingled around his wrist.

With some difficulty, his hands lacking dexterity, he turned the bracelet over. The writing there was incomprehensible and made him slightly dizzy. He huffed and rolled over before pushing himself up onto hands and knees.

The room he was in was dark, and far more defined than he was used to in the Dream. He could see picture frames on the walls and clocks. Every wall had at least one clock.

He grabbed the top of the crib railing and pulled himself up into a standing position. The rest of the room looked normal. Lived in.

The door opened, letting light in. A figure walked through the doorway and picked Danny up.

“You’re awake already! Ready for the day?”

“Clockwork?” squeaked Danny.

“Hmm, yes. But there’s something else you can call me here, hm?” The figure shifted, light falling on a feminine face and long hair.

“Mama?” tried Danny.

“There we go,” she said.

“Where are we?” asked Danny, lisping his words slightly. He wasn’t sure he had teeth right now. He put his hand in his mouth, feeling his gums. “’s different here.”

“Yes,” said Clockwork, walking out into a hallway. It was bright. There were clocks here, too, evenly spaced on the walls. Danny hid his face. “Oopsie daisy. Too bright, baby?”

“Mhm,” said Danny.

Clockwork balanced Danny on her hip and fiddled with a dimmer switch. The lights dimmed to a more comfortable level. “I’m sorry, baby. I keep forgetting about your eyes.”

“What about my eyes?”

“You’re photosensitive. That’s what the bracelet is for. You need low light.”

“Mama?”

“Hm?”

“What is this place?”

“Ah,” said Clockwork, putting him in a highchair. “A world within the Dream. Once,” she punctuated the word by clipping Danny into the seat, “it was much like the place you were first born. But we came to understand it completely and everything that thought or dreamed opened themselves to us. We engulfed it, brought it here. Now everyone is happy.”

Clockwork put a sippy cup on the little table on the highchair and then several pieces of cereal. Danny didn’t recognize the brand.

“Do I have to?”

“You need energy for today,” said Clockwork.

“But I just ate so much.”

“Not here. Come on, sweetheart. It’s just a little bit.” Clockwork sat down in one of the chairs at the dinning room table, brushing her hair over her shoulder. She smiled. “Isn’t this nice?”

Danny shrugged.

“I know you don’t care for the other part of the Dream, that you find it frightening, so… If you like this place, you can stay here. It’s just like the other place. The one you like. Would you like that?”

“My friends are there.”

“I can bring them here. It’ll be difficult, but very possible.”

Danny shook his head. Clockwork sighed.

“Well. Let’s just see how this day goes before you decide. Maybe you’ll like being here so much you’ll never want to leave at all. Give it a chance. Just for one day, okay?”

“Okay,” mumbled Danny.

“And that means eating your breakfast.” She ruffled Danny’s hair. “Okie-dokie?”

“’Kay.”

Clockwork smiled, eyes crinkling. “We’re going to have so much fun today, just see!”

[magicmanias]

The Wanderer

Episode 2 of Polaris

[per - uh - jee] (n). Astronomy. the point in the orbit of a heavenly body at which it is nearest to the earth

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary: A fugitive out of time + interdimensional space travel + a love story. Always on the run, and while Loki might be able to escape the TVA, he always gravitates towards you. Not even bending the fabric of space and time itself can cut his heartstrings.

Occurs after the events of Endgame. Replaces Loki mini-series timeline.

Warnings: You know it’s gonna be angst. You just know. Come on now.

Word Count: 3.0k

A/N: Sorry this took so long! I have exams coming up, so I’ve been having to study for those a lot. Once exams are over at the end of May, you know I’ll be writing like a maniac. Also, the word count will definitely increase as the chapters go along. It's been a bit short, but right now, we're just building traction! And yes… You will come across a part that is vague and opens up more questions about the reader who I have named Goddess Divine.

<- Previous | Next -> (Coming soon)

“Thank you.” Loki rubs his wrists as the chains fall to the ground. “Where did you learn to do that?”

“You—My husband taught me,” you said. Loki nodded but offered nothing in response. “We need to leave here. I know a way.”

“Hey, hold on.” Loki reached out to grab her wrist, but lowered his hand once he got her attention instead. “We don’t have the Tesseract.”

“There are other ways to leave this planet.”

Loki scoffed. “I don’t think you understand how powerful that thing is.”

You turned fully to face him, craning your neck to meet his eyes. “I know more than you. Trust me. It’s better if you forget about it.”

The children are constantly at the forefront of your thoughts even as you searched for an escape in the caverns under Asgard. Memories of posies in hand and your old, favorite pink dress drew all your attention from the damp halls illuminated by enchanted flame. This place… this time that you’re in was all-too-well ingrained in the core of everything you remembered of your home.

Your calves started to strain and it took you some time until you realized that you’ve been trying to sync your steps with Loki’s, an unconscious effort you would always put in walking alongside your husband. The difference was that his doppleganger didn’t take care to shorten his strides to allow for you to keep up.

“We’ve fallen into a past timeline of yours.” Loki glanced at you over his shoulder. “Those children were you and… your husband.”

“Yes.” You give up on trying to keep up and let him take the lead. “I remember why we were up there. Today was the Perigee.”

Loki was curious. He’d never heard of such a thing. “I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”

You made a confused look on your face, but then immediately understood. “I suppose you don’t observe that in your world.”

“No, I can’t say that we do. Is it a celestial celebration? We only commemorate the coming of the seasons.”

At the end of the hall, you finally arrived at the center of the caverns, a chamber of nine interconnected murals telling the story of creation. You and Loki used to play under these paintings, waiting until Thor would find you at last.

“The Perigee is not of Asgard. It exists on Midgard, the mortal planet, when the moon is at its closest point in orbit to the earth. It happens so often there, but we hold the festival when Asgard, too, is at its closest point with Midgard.”

“That seems a bit arbitrary,” he commented, now gazing at the murals of his father above him. Odin was painted in a beautiful light as he constructed the world. Ymir simply seemed to disappear from the artwork, but the muralist failed to convey that Odin slew the giant and used his body to form the cosmos.

“There is a story behind it, like all great Norse holidays have. It tells the story of Gaea and Máni. A tale of forbidden love. Lofn loves to tell the story for all the children at each festival. She claims that without her, they would never have ended up together,” you laughed, “I remember pulling Loki from his books so we could make it on time.” You giggled at the memory.

“Máni? I haven’t ever heard of him retiring from pulling the moon. And Gaea has been sleeping for eons.”

“Our history is different, perhaps. I do not exist in your Asgard, yes?” You continued to walk, choosing the fourth passage from the left that led to the waterfall beneath the palace.

“No. No, I’m afraid not.” Loki paused in thought as he contemplated your assumption. Surely you must have existed somewhere in his world. “So what was so forbidden of their love?”

“Where I come from, Gaea was truly the first realm to exist, made of the blood and dust from a time even beyond her. In an empty universe, she was lonely, though she was a goddess of life itself. So she collected more dust in the reaches of space and breathed life into Máni. He was born, bright like the stars and light in his heart. He was grateful for life, and in return, he gave her his love… and her children. The mortals. But when they came close to embrace one another, he came too close and scorched the earth, burning her children. Gaea mourned, crying until Midgard flooded with her tears. From the water, the plants regrew and the animals emerged, but still, she missed her children. Máni couldn’t bear to see his love so saddened, so he sacrificed almost all of his power to breathe new life in the mortals. He grew dim and small, no longer so mighty without Gaea’s magic. Now in a realm of eternal darkness, Sol had finally caught up to Máni. She was born with the duty to bring light to the mortals, but Odin also tasked her with the job to separate Gaea and Máni when they became too close. Every day, she shines her light on the earth, but when she goes to rest, Máni returns to see Gaea before Sol wakes up once again to warn Máni. Yet sometimes, Máni can’t help but to come a little bit closer to Gaea—the rising tides his only warning. We call it the Perigee.”

“And what of Lofn? How did she contribute her skills in this forbidden love?”

“Oh yes. Lofn told us that she was the only being to give her consent to their love. The rest of Aesir vehemently rejected the bond. She used to try and match all the children up in the village and she would host all the play weddings. We must have been married by her hundreds of times. She could never resist the idea of the God of Mischief with a maiden Vanir.”

The sound of water crashing down into the abyss grew louder and louder as natural light started to creep into the passage.

“What is your role?”

“My role?”

“Yes, what do you do? What do you reign over?”

“Oh, I’m really no one. I don’t even think the Midgardians are aware of me. My role is quite insignificant compared to the likes of your brother or even the infamous trickster.”

“What is your role, Goddess?” he pushed once more.

“Seidr,” you shrugged, racing your finger along the stone wall.

“I would hardly call that insignificant. The power of prophecy is a force to be reckoned with.”

“I was born with a divine title, but I can’t even perform a healing spell,” you admitted.

“Your husband never taught you?” Loki smirked, the tease hanging loose from his lips.

You frowned. “No, he couldn’t.”

A rumble of footsteps approached and neither you nor Loki hesitated to make a final run towards the end of the tunnel. As you started to gain some speed, you suddenly froze, completely still as a hazy orange light encased you. Loki’s hand glowed green, battling against the force that trapped you, but just as quickly as he tried to free you, he was captured.

The TVA launched you through the exact same process as the first time. Long lines, an infinite number of signatures on documents you didn’t understand, and a maze of doorways. You didn’t see Loki again for a long time. It felt like days, but in a place as distorted as this, you couldn’t keep track of the hours.

Another agent guided you into a holding cell. It looked strange—more like an inn room more than a jail. There was a bed, a tiny washroom, and a square box that showed what looked like a play for children. The characters chattered silently while their simple dialogue was scrawled in the glass. The door opened.

“It appears we’re roommates this time.” Loki strolled into the room and the agent closed the door behind him, the lock clicking in place.

The box flashed and the program changed to the man you had just become acquainted with before your escape. “Well that was fun, wasn’t it? Unfortunately, we will have to keep you here since you didn’t seem to enjoy the more open kind of hospitality we offered you last time. Just until everything is processed. You know how bureaucracy is. I’ll see you in a few.” Mobius winks and the moving picture contraption clicks off with a warm hum.

“Tell me about myself.” You looked up from the book provided by your captors. Loki leaned back in the desk chair with his legs on the table. He fiddled with a glass cup, tossing it in the air and catching it.

You dropped the book in your lap, still open. “I’m sorry?”

“Well you were married to an alternate version of me. He’s lived more life than me. Surely you must have something to tell me that would be of use.” He shrugged, not bothering to drag any more of his attention away from the glass.

You were sure you looked surprised as he followed his answer with, “Am I so different from him? Come on now, he must have been at least half as charming.”

“Oh… He was charming.” You closed the book and placed it on the table next to the bed. The edge of the sheet rubbed between your fingers while you considered what to tell him. “He was my best friend in childhood.”

“Tell me about the children. The younger versions of yourselves on that day. What were you doing?” Loki placed the cup on the desk and crossed one leg over the other.

It was so easy to answer. In all the years, you never forgot that particular celebration. “It was my idea to climb the hill. To pick flowers before we watched the Perigee. Lofn had paired us up for her little wedding ceremony to host in front of the children and I wanted a bouquet… for the morning gift. I didn’t know what they were at the time, but I figured it could be anything.”

“Aren’t morning gifts usually given to the bride? And… in the morning?”

You tossed your head back in calm, tired laughter. “Yes, but that wouldn’t have stopped me anyway. I think I gave them to you after we said ‘I do.’ We were… eight at the time.”

“Goddess Divine…” He kissed her hands. The red skyline fades into purple as the water at the dock darkens below. “Never doubt my love for you. Will you miss me?” said he.

“As much as there are stars in the sky.”

“Always the poet’s tongue,” said he.

“Well, I had some inspiration,” said she.

He looks wearily past the Goddess, but smiles warmly once more. “I’m afraid our time has come to an end, Goddess. I love you.”

“No resurrections this time...” No. It was supposed to happen like this. Thanos. He wasn’t supposed to be here. It’s happening all over again.

“LOKI—”

Warm water tickled your cheeks and then you were enveloped in a pool of water. Your husband’s arms wrapped around your waist as the water climbed the walls of the tub. No, this wasn’t him… It wasn’t him. It wouldn’t ever be him. “Goddess…”

“Let me go! Let me go… I want to go.” You grasp desperately at the edge of the tub, wringing yourself from Loki’s grasp. You fell onto the tile floor of the washroom, your wet clothes heavy on your back.

“Wait, just—” Loki cuts himself short when you stumble into the bathroom doorway and pull the knob to the bedroom.

“Shit—Loki…”

“You need—”

“Don’t tell me what I need! You don’t kn—know.” Your body felt weak. The walls felt like they were closing in on you. No matter how hard you tried, it seemed like you could never get enough air.

“I know being alive is certainly better than suffocating in space.”

“Is it!? I can’t even grieve for him! Be-Be… Be—cause I… Becau—se I ke-keep…” You choked, breaking out into a violent sob. Your legs buckle underneath you, but you managed to catch the ground under your hand. Tears stained the fabric covering your lap as you struggled to breathe in between your bawling, forcing you to hiccup only further fueling your frustration. “Why am I here?”

Loki knelt down and watched as you pulled your knees up to your chest and buried your head in the space between. “Heartbreak is… a sorrow that I am all too familiar with. The feeling of your chest burning and freezing and being crushed all at once. But I didn’t give you a moment to simply… catch your breath after I, admittedly, forced you to escape with me. And I will never understand what it’s like to have to look at the face of your husband every minute of every day, but I do know this…” Loki let out a steady breath. “I will never leave you behind. Ever. Until I am able to fix this mess that I have brought upon you.” Loki lowered himself onto his knees. “That is my vow to you, goddess.”

He placed a hand over yours. It was a small gesture, leaving you wanting more. You tugged on his hand, manually tucking his arm underneath yours. He leaned into your motion, sitting on the floor behind you and pulling you close between his legs. Your eyes pierced him like venom, toxic but more addictive than the sweetest wine. A Goddess Divine.

Loki grew older in recent years, but his eyes had never changed. A sea of chaos and calm. He was there, your husband. Right in front of you, holding you.

“I always liked your eyes,” you murmured. You dragged your finger across the top of his cheek, tracing a line under his eye.

And I, yours.

You slid your finger up and cupped his face in your palm. Your husband. “I love you.”

Your lips swept gently along his; hesitant, yet your hand dragged through his hair, pulling him closer. Loki held still, but made no move to stop you. Your breaths grew harder as you grew more persistent. Even though you knew you would never be able to utter a word about this after, the need for him overcame you. In the sickest of ways, he was your only chance at truly saying goodbye to your husband.

Never doubt my love for you.

Your lips were soft. As irrational as the better part of him knew it was, he couldn’t help but think this felt almost habitual. He knew he should have pushed you away or reminded you of who he was. But when your fingers glided through his hair, Loki lost all sense of what was proper. He leaned into your touch, letting you relax in his lap as you continued to kiss him… eyes clenched shut. Loki wished he could look at your eyes and pretend he was the man you were pretending he was.

“Thank you.”

The agents dragged Loki to a door labeled “INTERROGATION ROOM #603521.”

An agent walked into the room, reviewing several documents attached to a clipboard.. “Do you know why you’re here, Mr. Laufeyson?” She didn’t bother to look up from the papers as she sat down in the seat on the other side of the table.

“Where is she?”

“I’m afraid your questions will have to be saved for the end of this, Mr. Laufeyson. Please comply.”

Loki lifted his head lazily, shifting his legs wide in the metal chair. A grin curled at his lips. He didn’t know how they were going to escape this hell. Running from an infinitely powerful force existing beyond time. It would never end… Was he ready to drag you through eternal hell with him?

Yes.

He would rot in hell for all he cared, but the TVA was no more than a joke—a circus of clowns playing their parts… and he would find you.

“I’m going to burn this place to the ground.”

“Never teleport me again. This is worse than the Bifrost.” You placed a clenched hand to your forehead and winced. The pounding in your head was ceaseless, though you were too cold to be completely tortured by it. The TVA was left in shambles, subjected to Loki’s wrath after he found you freezing in the depths of space. He hadn’t said a word to you since he discovered you, nearly lifeless. The ice burned your skin and your vision was useless for the time being. You could hear the crackles of flame and stone beneath your feet. “Where are we?”

“I don’t know, but we need to heal these burns before they scar.” Loki carefully lifted your hand, examining your wounds. “Are you in pain?”

“I can’t feel anything. Just cold.” You inched your feet closer to the heat of the fire. It wasn’t as painful as you had expected it to be. Dying in space wasn’t such a bad way to go… You only wished Loki had anything else less painful.

He hummed in response. The burns begin to warm. A peculiar feeling tickles your skin and makes its way down your torso.

“Seidr?”

“My mother taught me. I can teach you.”

“What?” Loki placed more wood on the fire. Perhaps Thor’s boyish interests were good for something…

“You need to learn how to use your powers. A seidr goddess is no goddess without seidr.”

“I told you. I don’t have it. I’ve tried. You’ve tried.” Loki didn’t answer, but footsteps fell away from you.

Loki watched the asteroids floating in the foggy atmosphere. Odin once told him stories of how he acquired all his wisdom. Life itself is knowledge, he would say. War, politics, distant planets. They all have something to offer, but there is a place where wisdom flows like water in the roots of the Tree of Life. “The Allfather once traveled to the roots of Yggdrasil to attain knowledge and guide his reign. Perhaps we can go there.”

[starry-skies-116]

It was supposed to be a normal shift. At least, that’s what Vanessa originally thought. Her day was normal- her night was normal too, all going according to plan... at least, so far.

What with her laying back in her chair and pursing her lip for the uptienth time that day, swirling her tongue around the lollipop lodged in between her lips and leaning against the wall, she admitted she couldn’t help but feel a small smile rise to her face- the animatronics were nearly finished getting ready to perform. The multitude of elaborate stage lights were off at the moment, only illuminating the center stage and the rest of the room in a dim blue afterglow- a large audience was already beginning to filter in through the doors, anxious murmuring and 80’s music a dull sound in her ears.

She herself didn’t know why such a massive location was required for the sake of children’s entertainment- children were easy to satisfy, to trick and deceive. And later tonight, she fully intended on exploiting that opportunity as Boss requested.

Ah, but enough about that for now, she tells herself, shaking her head to snap herself out of her thoughts. Lazily but discreetly slipping the strange device out of her pocket, her hand illuminated underneath the dull neon light of magenta and green, she clicks on it once. Seconds pass. She clicks on it twice.

Thrice, just to make sure it’s really working.

Her head throbs with the void of a cold chill like an abyssal, encapsulated vaccuum, then shudders before she can sense the looming presence of her boss within her- he needed no corporeal form for now, for this fragment had her own flesh to inhabit.

At first, I did not know of the multitude of experiments and endeavors our ancestors conducted into this material- remnant. I thought I was the first, in the shock of discovery, perhaps, Boss speaks.

But we can’t remember all too clearly. I feel it too, Vanessa responds, closing her eyes and basking in the frigid trickle of brief serenity before the one she now served. It really does suck having to make inferences and jump to conclusions.

Remnant- going by many names throughout history- anima, quintessence, ether. The very lifeblood of the soul that granted all things life- at least, all things that biologically lived. An unseen force that was a tesseract of energy that could be corrupted by sins or purified by cleansing, not to mention the arcana that was attributed to each and every soul, each and every blood- it sounded straight out of a videogame plot. It was too ridiculous to be real- it couldn’t be true, right? 

At least, that’s what Vanessa thought before some of the stuff was injected straight into her arm, by her will and her hand no less. 

There were many experiments in the past trying to toy with the life force of another living being, trying to force it into a metaphysical or even fully transmutable form. Many of the effects of a vital essence infusion were hypothesized throughout many cultures, being said to have the ability to grant longevity, alongside large scale healing and regenerative properties. Such experiments have been listed in multiple recordings, scriptures, scrolls and books recovered from archeological dig sites, the more ancient ones dating back to the Mesopotamian era having taken nearly ten to twelve years to translate and decode into modern languages. 

She thought those, too, were nothing more than fantasy until she saw it coalesce into reality, dreams into fruition right before her eyes. 

She thought back further, back to when she was still under Boss’s care and instruction- Glitchtrap, he referred to himself as, but the title was much too informal to call him by. Experimenting with the strange, nigh-ethereal substance as it ran at just-below room temperature like luminescent putty in her gloved hands… it was another experience entirely.

Souls can vary in degrees of complexity and sentiency depending on the biological lifeform it inhabits, with plants having little to no self-awareness, and humans having the most complex souls for obvious reasons, he had explained, voice patient and silvery-smooth like an impeccable mentor. The vessel, the shadow, and the soul are all what are held together by this spiritual lifeblood- this tesseract of infinite energy, life incarnate, working to compose a complete entity.

It may not had been true that pagan gods sculpted the bodies of unborn children on potter wheels, nor was it true that storks dropped neatly packaged infants on the doorsteps of aspiring parents, but all life counts as beings descended from the stars- Vanessa realizes that now. And staring at the scattered and haphazardly scribbled-on astronomical charts hidden in her drawers just a day before, trying to once again make heads or tails of all this nonsensical truth, the actual truth, both she and Boss came to a sobering conclusion that had the both of them sighing and yet smiling amidst themselves- they needed a proper test subject.

More desirably, a child with a beating heart, fresh and abundant remnant coursing through their veins, and an arcana with immense power that this accursed device in her hand could somehow identify.

It had better do it’s job- it was built by her own two hands just for this purpose.

It was a good thing she had sown the ‘Vanny’ bunny suit out of lightweight fabric, lest she wanted to waste away in the unusually thick and miserable store-bought ones instead.

She clicks her tongue and merely sighs in frustration as she scans the room, blonde ponytail dangling over her shoulder. “Nothing so far,” she mumbles under her breath- various symbols appear on the screen of the device, blipping in and out of existence like on a sonar of sorts- an ankh, an eye, the eternal knot, a compass, a crown, amidst other elaborate crests she didn´t care to identify..

Keep searching, he commands. They can’t evade us for long.

He’s right. They cannot. 

Yet her eyes grow bleary, and her breaths come bored as the periphery fades to black- she nearly closes her lidding-over eyes, leaning ever so slightly to the left of the wall she was on-

Vanessa, Boss scolds, and the blonde security guard instantly jerks awake.

“S-Sorry!” she meekly squeaks, aggressively rubbing at the bottom of her eyelids- god, working the night shift was torturous, even with her frequenting midday naps. The bitter aftertaste of expired kolaches still fresh in her mouth, she clicks her tongue and continues to scan.

Will she ever find what they’re looking for today? Will they have to wait until tomorrow?

And there it was. A flash of brown hair and a blue shirt- a surge of exhileration, as if every color in the world was intensified, burning and alight and oversaturated all too much. Vanessa nearly gasps as if it were a punch to the gut knocking the wind out of her- the adrenaline bursts forth into her veins like a dam breaking open- thunder and lightning flashes phosphorescent and bright across the sky, butterflies of both light and dark flutter in her eyes- hallucinatory, translucent. 

Every color, every line is hyperfocused, oversharpened- reality blooms before her, as if she can notice even the tiniest fly on the wall, can hear every creak of the floor- every rustle of clothing, every word the passerby around her utter. 

The flower blooms, the heavens burn with inexplicable splendor, alight with undying flame. She is adrift through the sky, walking amidst the stars from whence she came, floating through boundless dreams incarnate returning to the sky and the earth from whence all life emerged. 

Opening her eyes, she comes forth into being.

And just as quick as it came, it was over.

What the hell was that…?!

Vanessa can barely form her thoughts into a coherent string: Did you feel that?

I did…! It was not mere acknowledgement, but rather, genuine surprise- genuine satisfaction and euphoria, giddiness that he- that they couldn’t hide.

“My god, we hit the motherload,” Vanessa whispers as a pair of verdant, widened eyes gaze upon the sight before her- a strange and elaborate glitching picture of the emblem of a triskelion. Certainly rare and most unexpected. Was that a kid, or…?

She shudders with strange euphoria, her fingers twitch with need- need to steal the thumping heart, the vibrant lifeblood from within the fly trapped in the endless web of their own making.

“Who was that kid just now, Boss?” she absentmindedly whispers.

It looks like you have found your first victim, Vanny, he replies. Well, what are you waiting for, chop chop! Time waits for no one, go and chase after him!

“Sheesh, no need to rush me!” she whines, chasing in the direction of the blur as if the sight were pulled out of her happiest dreams.

The show was almost about to begin.

[worstloki]

The Sylvie Show

this got a bit long so i'm putting it under a cut but basically it's episode summaries of what i would do if the loki show had sylvie as the main character instead, since I do think the plot of the show would be better suited to be focused around her rather than 2012 loki. I've tried to keep it so that a lot of existing canon shots/sets/scenes can be reused.

episode 1: the show opens up with young Sylvie on Asgard. The TVA appear and drag her towards a temportal. She wakes up from the apparent nightmare, gasping heavily. cue title card and cool music. a portal opens within a church, sylvie interrupts the man giving a talk on religion, questioning what he's saying with roundabout logic and being generally witty, even managing to incorporate giving a bar of gum she had in a pocket to a child sitting on an aisle seat who is really happy about it. the man is still coming up with an answer to what she said when the doors of the church are broken open and TVA agents start to file in. Sylvie says "about time," and proceeds to have fun slaying the unit and stealing a tempad. She picks up the charge on her way out, sending a blow kiss to the devil mural on the wall on her way out. cut to stepping out of a temportal, throwing the charge behind her over a shoulder (it lands on a mattress) and taking a heavy seat in front of a set of screens which show the inside of a mall. the cameras are mostly empty and where there are people it does not fascinate her (one of them shows someone reloading shelves). she scrutinizes the screens, drumming fingers on the table, but quickly sighs and pulls out her tempad: it flashes with low battery and she rolls her eyes, throwing it into a bin filled with likewise empty devices. she's about to get up when the cameras show a group of agents walking into the store. among them is one with a jacket reading VARIANT in bright orange. "Sh*t," she says, getting up and going to the mattress, rifling through a pile of clothes on the floor next to it "sh*t sh*t sh*t where is it". She pulls out a dark brown jacket, and the camera pans over to the screens again, where the VARIANT turns: it's Loki. A golden portal opens on the beige walls of the TVA, Hunter C-20 stepping through holding a man in 1940s army uniform by the arm and dragging him towards a desk. the man protests but she places a grenade on the counter and tells the deskworker to log it. "it wasn't a dummy," is the explanation she gives. In the background a single guard steps through a portal, looking around and proceeding to the doors out of this room. It's Sylvie, and she walks alone past other guards and rooms labelled Court and Memory Chamber. A group of people run past her saying a variant is loose and she walks faster. She walks past one court room, catching the words "trust me, you can smell the cologne of two Tony Starks," but continues looking around. An analyst (Mobius) rounds the corner in the direction of the court rooms and seems to be in a hurry, and Sylvie takes a sharp turn opening the closest door to her to avoid being seen. She is in a room with a Sacred Timeline screen, and zeroes in on the man closest to her, "what are you--" she places a hand over his mouth and pushes him down into his desk area behind his trolley, shushing him. "Do you know where the Reset Charge Storage Chambers are?" "Why?" *deep breath* *serious face on* "Tell me where the storaGE CHAMBer iS or I'll GUT YOU like a goAT!" "is that... like a fish?" *confusion* "how do you not know what a goat is?!" she spots a poster on the wall with a location guide and pushes Casey away with a hand to the face. "Nevermind." - We see Loki monologuing "the idea that your little club decides the fate of trillions of people across all of existence at the behest of three space lizards, yes, it's funny. It's absurd." an agent walks past in the background pushing a trolley but no attention is brought to it "I thought you didn't like to talk," mobius says. Sylvie pushes a door reading "Storage: Units" open, but looks and finds bodies in little cyro pod chambers lined up. "wrong door," she says, and pulls the trolley across the hall to the door reading "Storage: Charges." She's in a room with shelves filled up with reset charges, and opens the trolley drawer to find it already filled up with useless junk like infinity stones and such. to which she has no reaction. She shoves all that stuff to the side and out of the drawer, making space to

carefully place reset charges there. She individually picks up the two Tesseracts in it though and admires them, saying they're shiny and placing them on lower shelves in the room instead of on the floor. While she loads up the trolley ("a few more should do it") Loki walks past the door in full TVA outfit, happy and carrying a stack of papers that read RAGNAROK in bright red letters. She closes the drawer, takes her Hunter helmet off to shake out her hair and wipe sweat from her forehead, then puts it back on, pushing the trolley towards the door. Mobius has a hand at Loki's back, guiding him out of the Memory Chamber, Loki has clearly been crying and Mobius comforts him "it won't be so bad, you love being useful. and wearing suits." Sylvie walks past, pushing the trolley in the background. Sylvie continues down the hall, and when she sees no one behind or in front she pulls out her tempad and opens a portal, pushing her trolley and herself through. She's already gone and misses Classic Loki with a collar around his neck being escorted through the hall. - Sylvie and her trolley push through the portal and are in a mall, the lights dim and flickering above. Thunder is heard and lightning strikes as she places a reset charge on a shelf, flicking open a panel on it's side, and then walking a bit further and placing another. "May I help you?" a store employee asks, startling her. She considers. "Actually..." and places a hand to the person's temple - it takes a few seconds of effort but her fingertips glow green, and so does the person's eyes and temple, "don't mind if you do." She walks away from the trolley in a rush, and the store worker behind places a reset charge on a shelf. "I'm a bit short on time," she says to herself, pulling out her Tempad. Suspenseful music as the screen fades to black. - Everything cuts to a desert, with a small town in the background. A portal appears high up, and Loki falls from it to the ground. the words "twelve miles east of Puento Antiguo" appear on screen, and we see Loki formed a small crater in the ground, reminiscent of Mjolnir and the one in Stark Tower. "Ow," Loki says, taking the muzzle off with one hand, and then pulling the cuff chains off. The dust settles around him and he's still extricating himself from the hole in the ground and groaning about sand being irritating and getting everywhere when a golden portal opens up (we get a high shot, showing that Loki did indeed land within a larger crater too). Loki puts his hands in the air. "Appears to be a standard sequence violation. Branch is growing at a stable rate and slope. Variant identified." "Beg your pardon but I--" "On behalf of the Time Variance Authority, I hereby arrest you for crimes against the Sacred Timeline." "I didn't meddle with time, that would be the Avengers." "You're coming with us." *agents point pruners at him* "It's been a long day, I'm afraid you'll have to make me." *loki's hands start to glow green but B-15 presses a button, freezing him in place. Any sand blowing in the wind or any dust rising has also now stopped. There is a bird stuck mid-flight. B-15 pulls out a collar and places it around his neck. An agent places a reset charge on the ground and activates it, it starts to fizz purple. Time unfreezes and B-15 drags Loki going "hey!" through a temportal, and it closes, leaving the audience to watch a few seconds of the charge going off and the radius of the charge increasing, washing the ground in a bright neon-ish light.

Episode 2: this one is a combination of the Loki episodes 1 and 2. Basically, Loki goes on trial, the TVA has no reason he's committed a crime, but Mobius who had been at the church crime scene saves him and takes him to the memory chamber to break. What gets him to stop acting as if he actually wanted to rule all of space and whatnot is Mobius bringing up the topic of choice in Avengers 1, and asking if Loki knew the mind stone was effecting him too, along with him explicitly asking about the torture which happened before, even during - he pulls up footage - the invasion. Mobius pulls up footage of Frigga and Loki pickpockets the collar remote etc. everything else remains the same, including most of episode 2, with Sylvie fighting to "I need a hero" etc, but C-20 is left behind after being enchanted. When the TVA show up C-20 is tied up hastily in leather belts and rope. She's mostly out of it saying stuff like "it's real, it's all real" but she also says "we're variants, we're all variants" which Mobius obviously brushes over casually. Loki narrows his eyes though, and says stepping out of the renaissance fair tent would have them winding up dead like the agents scattered around here, B-15 calls bluff and Mobius says to wait but the people walking in front of the ones holding C-20 up to take her to the TVA for medical help fall dead upon stepping out. Loki was stalling for time with the wold anecdote, and doesn't tell how he knew the death thing would happen ("I see a scheme, and in that scheme I see myself" "bullsh*t" "it's true. my reflection looks quite good, too." "you *sshole." *he smiles softly, as if t'were a compliment*), and everyone gets back by opening portals from within the tent. The dots between the gum and the apocalypses is drawn, they see Pompeii, end up going to Roxxcart, where we see Sylvie watching the screens, now in her leather gear. B-15 and Loki split up together, the guy at the 'hurricane sale' placed a charge on the shelf but no attention is drawn to that bc Loki and 'Loki' are talking. Sylvie emphasizes that she holds a grudge because he's a traitor, specifically for working for the TVA because they're "condescending time fascists." Loki assures her he knows, and that he's seen the charges around the place. She comes to the realization that he's been undercover/faking. We're shown Mobius and co. finding the room with screens but it's just got Sylvie's random junk, nothing really useful. They talk some more, no physical fighting but the vessel sizes get bigger and Loki calls it 'real mature'. While they still disagree on what to do with the Time Lizards (destroy or overthrow) Sylvie settles on leaving the portal open for him at the end and giving him a chance. She waits for him to go through first, with Loki looking back at Mobius meaningfully determined and then walking through.

Episode 3: Young sylvie is going through the stripping/signing/temporal aura process. She's sent into the court room. she bites and runs out of the room, putting distance before fiddling with the tempad she took, figuring it out, while Renslayer gets stuck answering the Judge. Sylvie appears back on Asgard, but there's already a Sylvie there playing with her toys. a TVA portal opens and she presses another "Asgard" on the device to escape quickly. "I just want to go home," she says to herself, appearing in the same room, but the child is a bit older (a teen?) and a boy and black and reading instead of playing but he's clearly also in green/gold and a loki. the kid turns after hearing her and she panicks and goes through another portal. another one with adult loki in the same room, she looks hopeful as if she could ask for help but then sif walks in with insults and slaps him but spots her. "who's the kid," sif asks and a portal opens up next to her. Agents step through and Sif punches one that does, asking Loki what trick this is now. Sif/Loki fight them while they're still coming through, sylvie presses another asgard but sees a knocked out agent has a tempad on his belt and takes it before running again. no loki in the room, it's empty, but a group of people rush across, talking hurriedly about 'the goddess of death' and 'odin's real heir' and 'thor and loki dead' and 'seeking refuge in the moutains.' Sylvie looks lost. Cue titlecard and cool music. They step into the TVA. Sylvie is determined, telling Loki to hurry because they won't have much time the TVA remains in disarray from the reset charges everywhere, but stops when he says he needs to get a weapon. "Why didn't you use magic to get some earlier," she asks. "Spares," he smiles, "magic doesn't work here after all." Sylvie notes that it explains her last attempts to infiltrate failing so badly. They fight some guards together on the way to the elevator rather than fighting each other. The elevator to the time keepers opens but Renslayer and a bunch of guards are in it waiting. Sylvie grabs Loki and tries to use him as a bargaining tool. Doesn't work, obviously, and Sylvie is shaken upon coming face to face with the same Hunter who had caught her as a kid, she doesn't react in time to stop Loki taking her tempad and dropping them somewhere. Same plot from here, the two of them fighting over the tempad, with Sylvie wanting to go back and Loki telling her they clearly already failed and she should explain what's going on first. She says she doesn't need to and if he wants to help defeat the TVA he needs to trust her and give the tempad back. He makes it vanish and she gets frustrated, asking if he gives up on everything that easily, and maybe that's why he's the first Loki she's seen working with the TVA. Etc. They need a power source anyway and get to the train hoping it'll lead to the ship that won't get off-planet anyway. Loki acts a fool Sylvie naps, wakes up to singing. Sylvie calls him out for not actually being drunk and also he downs a glass and offers her one, and when Sylvie asks how he's paying for it he says it's on the house and points to the barkeeper (male. we're implying/showing flirting. maybe a wink at him or a cute wave.). It's blatantly clear he's trying to get info on her backstory along the way and she's not falling for it but allowing him to know a bit of stuff. (eg. "I know everything is watered down ale for an Asgardian," "watered-down watered-down, more like. But you know of Asgard? Do go on...") She softens at hearing his backstory, and shares hers too. The people appear and ask to see their tickets, everything is the same from here forward. The episode ends with them watching the ship getting destroyed.

Episode 4: different music when sylvie and loki look into each others eyes since i didn't like that. cue titlecard and song after the TVA portals open on Lamentis. this episode remains the same mostly with Sylvie and Mobius driving the plot. No narcissist comment but Mobius gets to act jelly of what Sylvie and Loki have going on. Instead of it just being a bad memory loop with Sif we get her three times and then it alternates to Thor who is also angry. If he's not already down Thor will punch him (even though Loki is just happy to see him bc he didn't think he'd see him again--) and then tell him to hold still so it'll hurt less. It's framed as bad and Thor will imply it's only a fitting punishment. Thor is only shown twice, the first time the scene cuts at Loki being hit and held down, the second is Thor leaving the room, chuckling about how Loki didn't need to talk to anyone anyway bc he's alone, says he'll heal soon anyway. Loki isn't shown, but Thor's fingers have blood on them where they hold mjolnir. the loop resets and Loki is back to standing in the middle of the room and ghosts a hand over his mouth and then Mobius arrives. Loki calls the repeated memory boring and cruel, says he hates when Thor is drunk and feeling rash, with Mobius saying at least he didn't send him to Thanos or something and gave his crotch a break. Sylvie asks what her nexus event was and Renslayer doesn't remember. The end of the episode is the same, with Sylvie 1v1-ing Renslayer and beheading a Time Keeper, Loki getting pruned. The credit scene remains the same.

[coin-writes]

Comfortember with Tesseroki : Chapter Three

read on ao3 — hugs

Word count: 1,199

Fandom: MCU

Chapter summary: Tess demands a condition to remove Loki's shackles and muzzle.

“Sometimes I can’t believe Thor was your brother,” Tess says, a heavy scowl on her face. They’re standing near the place she claimed was the perfect place for bathing and cleaning oneself. Unfortunately, during the short walk, they’d realized the obstacle that was Loki’s chains. Her eyes glow bright, the brightest Loki’s seen them yet and her gaze is directed at his shackles. Cool fingers press against his handcuffs, trying in vain to bend the metal and pull them apart.

Unfortunately, not even an infinity gem could go against the metals of Nidavellir and enchantments sustained by the All-father as they only bend, but do not submit to being pulled apart. “Where did he get these anyway? Does he keep them at hand wherever he goes?” Her voice is filled with indignation as she struggles against breaking the chains. She's tried the muzzle already, pulled vigorously at the band that stretches to his neck and tried in vain to tear it off his face without pulling him or his neck along.

“My brother has a pocket dimension of his own,” Loki says in explanation.  He eyes her puffed cheeks, the consternation on Tesseract's face. “Why don't you blast it away?”

“I was going to try that…” She sighs, lets her hands fall down at her side, nips at her lip. “But it’s… it could hurt. And that's counterproductive, you see.”

“Tess,” he says gently. “I’m okay with a bit of pain.” He manages to refrain from adding ‘I’ve suffered far worse than that'.

“Well, I know that. But I don’t want that.” Tess’s frown does not cease and her eyes dim as she looks at his hands, making her decision. “Fine,” she says. “They must be painful now too... If I remove them, even with pain, they won't hurt you anymore, I guess." She sighs morosely once more. "But… on one condition.”

“And what is that?”

“You’ll let me hug you.”

Loki's eyebrows fly up on his forehead, eyes blinking multiple times.

She says it like it's an order, demands it really, like there's no room for argument, even though it's a condition which means she needs his agreement. But her face bears a light, persuasive expression that makes Loki know that he does, in fact, have a choice.

“Please,” Tess elongates the word and extends her lower lip into a pout — which Loki thinks makes Tess look adorably cute — her eyes wider than saucers. "Please, please, please! It will cheer me up!" She looks one second away from jumping on spot to accentuate her demand.

Loki rolls his eyes, reaches to tuck a strain of her hair behind her ears, frowning a little at the rattle of chains. “Very well, Princess.”

Tess's smile brightens her face.

It dims when she looks at his hands, her lips pulling downwards as she ever so gently takes his hands into hers. An expression of utmost concentration replaces her smug look. Her lips purse further, Loki observes, as she readies herself. Light swirls over her hands; a strand of blue reaches out to touch his handcuffs, large and round and wound impossibly tight over his wrist, etched with runes. Even looking at them makes Tess's eyes hurt. And to think it was Loki's own brother who bound him that way. Half-brother. Well, he's no brother if he does that to Loki and shuts him up — in such an abysmal manner too.

Her eyes glimmer. Another illuminated strand joins the first one, followed by another and another, until multiple threads have connected Tess's fingers and his handcuffs. She widens her fingers, forces the energy forever pulsing in her to push the little space between the metal and Loki's wrist apart, enlargen the handcuffs, and when they're big enough that she's sure her blast won't touch his skin, she throws the blast perpendicular to it, makes the chains disintegrate and vanish.

The absence of handcuffs clamped around his wrist reveal chafed wrists and pale skin with rounded bruising. Loki's skin had become much more sensitive after his imprisoned time with Thanos, and as the now-warm air hits his skin, he feels the wounds itch, another physical mark of him on Loki, another thing changed and ugly in him.

"Loki..." Tess whispers, eyes darting across his hands. Loki traces his skin lightly, winces at the sensitive skin, stretches his wrists to ease the ache, revelling in the fact that he can finally, finally, use his seidr and access his magic. He had gone too long without the use of it, and what he had used had drained him afterwards; like now.

He pulls at his sleeves to cover his bruises. A dark hand blocks his fingers, but not unkindly. "No. Give me one second," she says, before disappearing—teleporting away.

She comes back with a small container. "It's a balm to soothe your nasty bruises," she explains and extends it towards him. "Do you want to apply it or could I?"

"I think I'd like to apply it," he says and takes the container from her hands, rolling his sleeves upwards and applying it gently across his forearms, aware of Tess watching. "Thank you," he tells her when he's done.

She rolls her silvery eyes, waves it away. "Stop saying that."

He cannot, really.

"Anyway," she says, her mood sobering. "Now we have to remove your restraint. This one's going to hurt because it's much closer to your skin. I'll move a little closer..."

He stills as she moves within hugging distance, a singular perfume wafting from her. It's a mix of flowery and smokey — which, in theory, would make an odd combination, but in practice, it's... nice.

She fingers the restraint and the thick band, energy sparking off her skin and settling over the whole of the band. With a slow and smooth finger movement she slices the metal, and a feeling like a nail — or something a little sharper than that — grazing his cheek passes over him. He shivers lightly.

"It's over," Tess says soon, and he opens his eyes, not realising he'd closed them, to the sparkling gold freckles on her face. They’re like stars—or perhaps a more apt comparison would be jewels, for how they sparkle on her cheeks.

A feeling washes over him, relief; he can breathe, he can sigh, can stretch his muscles and smile and as his chapped lips meet moist air, he does just that—a little upwards twist of the lips.

Tess smiles too, widens her arms in a ‘come hug me’ gesture. “Come on, give me my hug now,” she says.

“Certainly,” he says. This is the only way of thanks he can give her. She presses into him after he extends his arms invitingly, and that particular scent of hers becomes prominent once more. Her head rests on his shoulder and her arms around his waist, her own waist fitting just right in his hold. Warmth and comfort relieves the ache in his muscles, and something so sweet fills his heart, he cannot—

Her arms tighten around him, not uncomfortably, the embrace stretching on.

“Finally I get to hug you,” she says and he really cannot hold back his tears.