#he's spent centuries holding off asgard as best he can with four people to back him up. five if you count the dog

[nightingaletrash]

Freyr: leadership's not really my strong suit haha I'm just good at inspiring people

Me: honey that is literally a facet of leadership and you're very good at it

[star-spangledstud]

Better Than Me (2/2)

Part one is here!

Summary: You really are better than them. 

Pairing: Steve Rogers x (female!)Reader.

Word Count: 3000-ish.

Warnings: Angst. Fluff.

It was ridiculous. So ridiculous that it bordered near downright insane. Absolutely fucking ridiculous. Impractical, stupid and completely, utterly ridiculous. Beautiful, sparkly and downright amazing, but ridiculous. You fucking loved it.

The baby pink, bejeweled handgun sat inside a pink velvet box on your lap. The bow, which was also pink, of course, was lying at your feet, which were clad in bedazzled silver Louboutins. Gems of all colors on the rainbow covered it on all sides, from the barrel to the handgrip and along the safety pin.

You gazed up at Tony, who wore an amused expression on his face, before glancing over at Pepper. She had her hand over her mouth in embarrassment, clearly horrified by Tony’s gift choice. The card read that it was from both of them. Clearly, that wasn’t the case. 

“Happy birthday, kid.” He said with a smirk that nearly extended from ear to ear.

“I don’t even want to know how much you spent on that,” Pepper muttered, shaking her head while you took the thing out of the pink and white polka-dotted tissue paper.

The others sighed audibly when you smiled, annoyed that Tony’s gift overshadowed theirs yet again. To be fair, they’d all expected it, but all of them secretly hoped any one of their gifts would be your favorite. 

“I love it,” you said, twirling the weapon around in your hand, “and I agree with Pepper, I can’t even imagine how much you spent on this thing...”

“You’ll make it work,” he mused, “Two million dollars, by the way, and you could just thank me.”

Your breath caught in your throat and for a moment, you were sure Pepper was going to faint. Natasha shook her head, watching the scene unfold in horror. It was the ugliest thing she had ever seen. Wanda, who seemed to share none of her feelings, had created a monster out of you.

“Thanks, Tony,” you blew him a kiss, unable to get up from your seat at the dinner table that was covered in white roses in silver vases and wine that came from expensive bottles.

“It’s very pretty,” the witch said, “Can I hold it?” 

“Please,” you shoved it into her hands, “by all means.” 

“You’re insane, Tony,” you said as you took the gift Bruce had gotten for you from his outstretched hands with a smile, “Absolutely fucking nuts, but I love you for it.”

Your eyes went around the room, finding Steve at the end of the table of which you sat at the head. You were the birthday girl, after all, the pink satin sash draped around you said so in large, cursive letters and so it was your turn to have the most important seat of the house. It was a ridiculous ordeal, he thought so anyway, but you were smiling and chatting and enjoying the company of your friends and it was good to see. He couldn’t remember the last time that had happened and knew very well he was to blame. 

He was the one who pushed you away, even though it was for your own good.

You took Thor’s gift just as the waiter began to serve your first course, and since he was seated closest to you, you thanked him with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Steve’s gift came last. You didn’t expect anything from him given the circumstances.

Four hours, six courses and many glasses of wine and Asgardian mead later, you found yourself back in your room. Gifts given to you by your fellow team members were sprawled out on your bed, ranging from a pair of silk pajamas with glittery Ugg slippers to match from Wanda to Starbucks and Sephora gift cards from Sam and everything in between. Chocolate covered strawberries in a glittery box, two romance novels, a bottle of beautifully aged red wine from Asgard and a peach-toned Dior lipstick, all tokens of appreciation given to you by the people you cared about the most. 

Despite the hardships that you faced the previous year and the social distancing that occurred during that time, you couldn’t deny how good it felt to be with the team again. You’d changed a lot in a year, grown to be a different person than the one you were before. It wasn’t necessarily a good or a bad thing in your mind, it just happened naturally.  

You sat down beside the velvet box, eyes automatically flying towards the item on your far left. A drawing of you, sitting on a terrace, staring out into the sunny skyline with a cup of coffee in your hand. It was an old drawing by the looks of it because your hair was much shorter and a different shade and your clothing was far plainer than it was now; black jeans and a white t-shirt. A signature that read SR sat in the bottom right corner in messy, doctor-like handwriting. It made your toes curl. 

Of course, he was the one with the overly personal gift. You didn’t know whether it was because he simply had no fucking clue what 21st-century women liked to receive for their birthdays or whether he’d purposely done it to make you remember the day it was drawn, but the latter happened and now, you were sitting on your bed with prickling eyes and goosebumps that lined your skin.

You remembered that day very vividly. You’d only been an Avenger for three months and were struggling to adjust to the fact that you had to suddenly follow orders. Before joining the team, you’d worked alone, hired by people with deep pockets and dark intentions. You made your own rules. 

The first time Steve had taken you out for coffee he kind to offer you advice. At first, you thought it felt a little like he was trying to be the human resource manager with the way he talked to you, you continued to meet up every Saturday afternoon and as the weeks passed, something in the dynamic changed.  He loosened up, got rid of his Captain America persona and instead became Steve. You didn’t know what caused the change, but it was good, allowed you to actually get to know the man behind the suit and vice versa. 

That particular day was a good one, It was a sunny day in spring, not too hot and not too cold, with a soft breeze that carried the scent of fresh flowers across the terrace. You’d ordered a latte, Steve liked it black. You weren’t talking, but instead, a comfortable silence hung between you. You’d brought a book just like you always did and read it while occasionally eyeing the people that passed you by. Steve, whose cheeks had become fiery red out of the blue, pulled out a leather-bound sketchbook and began to draw.

You never asked him what he was drawing, even when he stored away his pencils and shoved the book back inside his tote did you not bother to pry. Not even when you became so close you’d sometimes fall asleep together on the couch, did you not ask. 

You knew now, but they didn’t say ignorance is bliss without reason.

You began to mindlessly pick at three layers of lavender toned sparkling nail polish, pulling at it as it came off your fingers with far too much ease. You’d paid the lady $60 for your manicure three days prior and now, you were ripping it off. With a deep sigh, you pushed yourself up, gripping the back of your heels so you could slip them off with ease. You’d probably never wear them again. 

You slowly began to clean up the mess, discarded packaging, boxes, and gift bags and placing them in the corner of your room near the door. You put everything away except for the drawing, which you couldn’t decide what to do with. Why was it such a big deal to you, anyway? You hardly spoke to Steve anymore and if you did, it was during pre- and post-mission briefings. Maybe that’s why it made you feel so strange. it didn’t feel right, such a personal, intimate gift after how far the two of you had drifted apart. 

He hadn’t asked you about Netflix in four months and you hadn’t offered your expertise on which shows and movies were the best. You didn’t bring him coffee anymore but instead, he made his own, never leaving enough in the pot for you to make a cup as well. The message he sent you was loud and clear and in return, you were an open book. 

He’d grumble when a stranger was seated at the breakfast table on Sundays courtesy of your hospitality, avert his eyes when they tried to kiss you openly (which you refused). The pang in his chest would hit him when he saw Ubers out front whose engines were running to carry you to your dates in high-end restaurants and fancy bars. He wasn’t jealous, he kept telling himself. He was just worried about your safety when you disappeared into the night with strange men. Men that weren’t him, ironically. 

He should’ve seen you when you were right in front of him. When you were there, literally waiting for him to make a move on you, begging him with your mannerisms and your looks, your glances, and smiles even when his jokes weren’t funny. He knew damn well you would make an amazing couple, that you could take on the entire fucking world as a duo, but he was too scared to put it on the line, too scared of what might happen once the bad guys caught a whiff of your relationship. They’d already tried to destroy Bucky and Jesus Christ, they nearly succeeded. He couldn’t handle the thought of losing you to an organization like HYDRA, or worse. He never told you this. You had no idea. You were convinced he didn’t want you because of your flaws. Because of who you were. 

You got over it, shut out the thought of ever holding hands with Steve in public, the thoughts of ever feeling his lips softly pressing against your plump cheeks and his body weighing down on top of you while his voice vibrated against your ear and neck. You managed to forget about him, managed to exchange the memories and fantasies of him for diamond necklaces, silk blazers, and expensive shoes. You traded him in for strangers with big bank accounts driving nice cars wearing expensive suits. They managed to fill the void he created by pushing you away. 

So yeah, the gift bothered you. It was too nice, too sweet, so sweet you had to struggle to stay stoic when thanking him earlier. You literally had to stop yourself from smiling too big, from allowing tears of gratitude and happiness to completely ruin your make-up. if things had been different, you would have done those things. They weren’t. He didn’t want you and now he was being nice. It didn’t make sense. 

Just as you were about to change into a different outfit for the evening, your phone vibrated. You picked it up off your nightstand and opened it. It was a text message, but not from the guy who would be knocking on the front door in the coming hour.

I didn’t get a chance to personally wish you a happy birthday. Can we talk? -S

You gripped the device so hard you nearly crushed the screen. Six months ago, a message like this would’ve had you crying on your bathroom floor for four hours. Now, it just made you angry. So angry, that you picked your studded Louboutin off the floor and chucked it at the wall. The heel broke off against the concrete, but you didn’t notice. You weren’t going to wear them again anyway.  

Your fingers typed furiously, breathing coming out in shallow huffs. Images of the girls he’d brought back to Tony’s party’s flashed before your eyes while your fingers went faster than your brain could keep up with. 

Roof. Omw. 

Whether he understood the abbreviation ‘omw’ or not, you didn’t take the time to guess. You left your room without changing into the other dress or putting on new shoes. The elevator went up agonizingly slowly, but it was too late to go back and take the stairs. The buttons were pushed and the door closed. 

He was standing by the edge, leaning against the railing with his arms crossed over his chest. In contrast to you, he had changed his attire, leaving the light blue button-down he was wearing earlier for a plain white t-shirt and black sweatpants. He looked down at your feet, noticed how your polished toes were bare and opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again when he caught the expression on your face. You weren’t surprised to find him there first. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d come up there running. Apparently, though, he did know what ‘omw’ meant.

“What the hell is this?” You asked, waving your phone in front of his face, “what do you think you’re doing?” 

“What do you mean?” He asked, voice wavering. 

“What do I mean? What...,” you snorted, “What do you mean?! The gift, the talking? We shouldn’t be here.” 

“But why?” He knew why but chose to ignore the sensical part of his brain that told him he shouldn’t be doing this.

You lifted your arms, a deep breath leaving you while you considered what to say. You wanted to come up with an excuse, tell him you were busy or that you’d lost sight of not just him, but the entire team, but fuck it, lying wouldn’t get you anywhere. It had never gotten you anywhere before.  

“Because I have to get over you.” 

He was silent, taking in your words. They stung, even though he already knew the truth they carried. 

“I couldn’t have you constantly hanging around me anymore. I couldn’t stand seeing those girls hanging off your arm at those stupid parties and I sure as hell didn’t want to hear how fun they were and how great and wonderful and how amazing, and-”

He stepped forward, gripping your arms. The sudden contact made blood rush to your head, making you nauseous and dizzy simultaneously. 

 “I spent so much time wondering why they were better than me,” you mumbled, “I still haven’t figured it out.” 

“They aren’t better than you,” he replied softly, “they don’t even compare to you.” 

You looked up, eyes large and glossy and so goddamn pretty with that champagne eyeshadow and winged liner and Steve thought he was going to lose his mind then and there.

“I had to let you go because I’m afraid,” he admitted, “terrified of what might happen if anyone tries to get to you because of me.” 

“Steve,” you tried, but couldn’t find words. 

All this time, you thought he didn’t like you. That he wasn’t interested in you, didn’t want anything from you but a friendship at most. You’d taught yourself to ignore your constant desire for him because it would never be reciprocated.

“When you distanced yourself from me, I knew I’d messed up, but it was too late. I’d dug a hole for myself and there was nothing I could do to get back out,” he snorted, “I needed those girls as a distraction, but none of them are as good as you.” 

He smiled sadly, taking your hands in his larger, calloused palms and began to rub circles on your knuckles. 

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, “I’ve been stupid and an ass and I don’t deserve to even be in the same room as you. I fucked up, Y/N.”

The skin on the back of his neck was soft when you clasped your fingers around it, muscles tensing up when you began to pull him down to meet you. Without heels on, you’d lost a significant amount of height on him, causing him to tower over you. On a hot day, he could be your personal parasol, shielding you from the sun with his entire body.

“Idiot,” you mumbled before his mouth found yours. 

He kissed you, hands gripping your waist out of fear that if he were to let go, he’d wake up in his bed alone. But it wasn’t a dream, he knew it because the soft feeling of your glossy lips against his own was unlike anything he’d ever felt. 

“Idiot,” you said again when you took a moment to breathe. 

“I am,” he kissed you again, the sweet taste of Chardonnay and that night’s dessert - creme brulee and vanilla ice cream - still lingering on your tongue, sending his senses in complete overdrive. 

“I don’t want to stay away from you anymore,” he said finally, “I’d never let anyone hurt you.” 

You smiled, heart ready to explode from the sudden burst of happiness you experienced for the first time in a long time. Maybe Wanda was right all along. 

“Steve, I can defend myself. You know that, right?” You mused.

“I’ll kill them if they try.” 

He captured your lips with his again. The scent of his cologne, oud, and pine, nearly caused your knees to buckle from under you. You didn’t even realize the goosebumps that lined your skin, or the fact that the date you were supposed to meet up with had already bailed on you. It didn’t matter, because you finally had Steve where you wanted him. It only took for the two of you to drift apart almost completely for you to realize that you could never truly get away from one another. 

You placed your head on top of his chest, allowing his body heat to warm you up in a hug that engulfed you. It was nice, the feeling of his chest rising and falling slowly while you watched the city’s skyline in the dark. The want for it had been suppressed for so long you almost forgot what it felt like. 

“Steve?” You asked, peeking up at him through false eyelashes and three layers of waterproof mascara. 

“Hmm?”

“Your gift was my favorite.”

Yeah, all of those bitches definitely weren’t better than you. 

[corrupt-fvcker]

My Everything (Thor x fem!Reader)

My Everything ( Thor Odinson x fem!Reader )

Request: can you do something like thor gets self-conscious from all the weight that he gained from endgame and reader comforts him.

Prompt: #93 from angst/fluff list - "you're more than that." 

Warnings: angst, fluff/comforting, low body image

Word Count: 2.2K

Authors Note: i wrote this years n years ago, please don’t judge :,,,)

It was no secret that Thor had had a rough past couple of years. He'd suffered through the loss of his mother, father, sister, best friend, brother, and half of the universe within the span of a few years. Prior to all of the death and destruction, Thor was truly content with his life. He was to be the ruler of Asgard after his father, a great honor that Thor looked forward to. He was considered a hero to both Asgard and Midgard, loved by all. But most importantly, he was loved by you. His sweet Y/N, the love of his life that he had somehow luckily managed to woo after decades of showing off his looks, combat skills, and intelligence. You were perfect in his eyes, an angel that had blessed him with its love. You were his everything and he was yours, and together the two of you were to spend an eternity ruling Asgard hand-in-hand.

But then everything fell apart. His mother's unexpected death alongside his sister destroying the kingdom the two of you were supposed to rule was only the beginning of the pain. Thanos murdering the Asgardian refugees as well as Heimdall and Thor's brother Loki.

Then all Thor had left to cling onto was you, his precious wife. And with you by his side, Thor could make it. He could recover from the pain he endured. He could survive as long as he had you.

But then he lost everything; he lost you.

He lost you as tears streaked down your cheeks, your glossy eyes gazing up at Thor with a painful mixture of admiration and fear while your body turned to ash in Thor's arms. You were Thor's everything, his whole world, but in the end, he couldn't save you. And the worst part of it all was that it was all his fault. It was his fault that he lost the love of his life and all he could do in the end was hold you in his arms, watching you wither away in an instant.

And once Thor had truly lost everything, he was nothing more than a shadow of his old self. He just slowly faded away into someone else, not able to stand his own reflection. He didn't want to be Thor Odinson anymore, he hated Thor Odinson. Thor was the god that Asgard perished because of. Thor was the man that was responsible for half the deaths of the universe. Thor was the husband of Y/N, the innocent woman that had died because of Thor.

Thor didn't want to be himself anymore, so he became someone else.

Every single thing Thor Odinson was, he did the opposite. He stopped grooming himself, letting his hair grow out and become long matted locks that matched his unruly beard. He stopped leaving his home, staying in the dark on the couch playing video games and watching television. He stopped dressing himself, staying in the same pair of sweats and t-shirt for days at a time. He stopped caring, doing nothing but eating, drinking, and playing video games as the pounds added on and his mental health became an utter mess.

Thor knew that if you were alive, you would've never let Thor treat himself in such a manner. You would've kicked his ass off the couch and make him do something productive. But the thing was that you weren't alive, you were gone and so Thor wasted away.

But Thor was better now, so much better. It had been two months since the universe had been restored, which meant Thanos was dead and you were back in Thor's arms.

And despite everything, the pain others and he had inflicted on himself, Thor would be okay. Thor knew that he could recover from everything with your support. He was slowly accepting the deaths of his friends and family, but the hard part was accepting his own mistakes. Thor was angry with himself, angry of how he acted once Thanos had snapped his fingers. He was angry that he didn't keep fighting, he hated how he gave up so easily. And now he was paying for his mistakes along with you, which was something Thor would have a difficult time forgiving himself for.

To begin with, Thor looked like a hot mess. You had helped him cut his hair and trim his beard which had helped a lot, but he still wasn't the same. He couldn't fit in his Asgardian armor, leaving him in sweats and sweatshirts. And he was struggling to lose the excess weight that he had put on in your absence, something that he found rather embarrassing.

It certainly didn't help that you truly looked like a goddess. In Thor's eyes, you were perfect in every way. Every curve and valley of your figure was absolutely perfect, mesmerizing Thor every time he caught a glimpse. Your hair was always flawless, framing your face in all the best angles. And your figure looked as if it had been made to fit in traditional Asgardian gowns, the fabric always comfortably hugging your stunning frame.

You were stunning in every way while Thor somedays couldn't even see his toes.

You and Thor sat in your quarters on the Benatar, you were reading a book as Thor was lost deep in thought. The back of your head was resting on Thor's chest, Thor's arm slung over you and his thumb rubbing small circles on your stomach. Despite loving you so close to him, Thor couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. He wondered if you could feel his pudginess beneath all the clothing, he wondered if it disgusted you; if he repulsed you.

Come to think of it, it had been quite some time you and he had been intimate. There was lots of cuddling, some lingering kisses, and a few suggestive touches, but apart from that, nothing. Thor knew that you were tired, moving in with the Guardians wasn't an easy transition. Not that it needed to be said, but the Guardians were a lot different from the people on Asgard. But it had been nearly four weeks since the last time anything sexual had conspired between the two of you, and Thor was convinced that your reasons for being distant had to be more than exhaustion. Thor was sure that he revolted you.

You could sense Thor's uneasiness despite your back being to him, you looked up from the pages of your book and set it down on the sheets. You shifted in place, sitting upright and turning to face Thor. You met his stare, your eyebrows furrowed in concern as you took in his almost scared facial expression.

"Thor?" You uttered softly, reaching out and place your hand on top of his. He interlocked your fingers hesitantly though his grip on your hand was firm. "Are you alright?"

Thor swallowed thickly before nodding his head, a small smile curling his lips as he puffed out a tiny laugh. It was a weak facade but it was all he had to offer. "Of course, darling. Why wouldn't I be?"

Of course, you saw right through his lame attempt of a lie. You pressed your lips together into a grimace, leaning forward to cup his face. "Thor, please, tell me what's wrong."

Thor practically melted into your gentle touch, your hands so smooth against his stubbled cheek. You always had a way with Thor that made him putty in your hands. Thor believed that you had spent too much time with Loki, the god of mischief's skill of shaping words must've worn off on you because Thor was totally encaptured whenever you spoke.

Thor gazed into your E/C eyes, a sudden rush of tears sudden brimming his eyes. You were so beautiful, you would surely leave him.

You stared back at Thor with concern, you could see the pain on his face. You studied his face, smiling softly. He was so beautiful, his mismatched eyes framed with smile lines that reminded you of the centuries of fun the two of you had experienced together. Norns, you were so lucky to have him in your life.

"Thor," you whispered, leaning forward and pressing a quick innocent kiss to his cheek. "What's wrong?"

"Y/N..." Thor started in a sigh, dipping his head down in shame as he avoided your gaze. "Do you still love me?"

You couldn't help but be offended, a sharp twist of hurt ripping through your heart. You openly frowned, your eyebrows furrowing. "Of course I do, why wouldn't I?"

Thor didn't answer at first, letting out a shaky breath. He was embarrassed to say the least, not even wanting to continue to conversation. He felt stupid, like an idiot begging for love from a person that he didn't deserve.

Though Y/N was not going to let Thor's behavior continue. She tilted his face up to level with hers, his gaze forced to meet her worried eyes. The raw emotion the filled them was clear as day, but Thor's insecurities clouded them from his view.

"Why would you?" Thor finally replied in a weak voice that didn't fit Thor's character. "I mean look at me, Y/N, I'm nothing more than a coward. I'm disgusting and now you're stuck in a marriage with a coward."

You let out a short breath from your nose, trying to process the lies Thor had just dumped on you and come up with an answer.

A tear slipped from Thor's eye when you didn't respond immediately, he knew you were about to leave him. This was your chance to take an escape pod to the nearest planet and forget about him. But you didn't move from your spot beside Thor, instead, you just stared at him. It was almost a glare, but you weren't angry.

Thor dropped his head, another tear rolling down his cheek. "I'm a coward," he repeated in a broken whisper.

"Don't you dare say that," you almost growled, upset that your beloved husband would even think such things. "Don't you dare call yourself a coward when we both know that you're so much more than that."

Thor met your gaze, still not believing your words. "After the snap, after I lost you, I quit. I didn't do anything but feel sorry for myself. I should've kept fighting, I should've stayed strong -- but I didn't. Instead, I got drunk and distracted myself just so I could ignore the pain I felt. I was a coward, Y/N. I should've kept fighting, but I didn't."

"You had lost everything," you said in a firm tone, holding both of his cheeks in your hands. "You lost everyone and everything you cared for. You got the worst of it all. You were lonely and in pain, you were trying to heal yourself the only way you knew how. You are not weak and you're certainly not a coward. You are strong, you came back and because of you, I'm here. I'm here now, Thor. You saved me. You are not a coward. You're my hero and my husband and the love of my life, but you're more than that too. You're my everything, Thor. I love you with my entire soul, don't you know that?"

Thor couldn't help but feel a sense of relief from your words. Despite him still not one hundred percent believing everything you said, he was convinced that you loved him. And that was enough for Thor at that moment, to know that he still had you.

Thor didn't know how to phrase his next insecurity, so he just tried to muster through it. "Doesn't it bother you how much I've changed?"

Y/N smiled, leaning forward and pressing a loving kiss to Thor's lips before pulling back, staring into his eyes. "Thor, I love you no matter what. Everything about you is amazing to me. You're handsome, sexy, beautiful, and so much more. So no, it doesn't bother me how much you've changed because I will always think you're the most handsome man in the universe."

Thor huffed out a breath he had been holding in. "I love you so much, darling."

You smiled, wrapping your arms around your husband as he pulled you into his chest. He held you, your head resting in the crook of his neck and his chin resting on the top of your head. You pressed a few kisses on his neck and jaw, feeling nothing but safe in Thor's arms. "I love you too."

Perhaps there was a lot more that would need to be said, Thor's scars running too deep for your words and kisses to fix alone. But at that moment, with you in Thor's arms and your words of love swimming in Thor's head, everything was perfect.

━ ━ ━ ━

A/N: tysm for reading <33 chubby thor is supreme thor 😌 this was originally posted on my wattpad @ corrupfvcker :) 

[notyetneedcoffee]

Soul Seer, Pt. 10

Loki Master List

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Only angst and a raging God of Lies in this chapter

Author’s Note: Takes place right after Avengers 1, with time travel elements and hints of Infinity Wars. Does NOT follow cannon after Avengers.

Every screen in the lab displayed analysis of the Chitauri materials or calculations for re-engineering the cities infrastructure. Despite the rapid pace of data collection, only one person worked in the quiet lab. The urge to sneak up behind him, to frighten him and see how tight of a hold he had on his monster, tickled across Loki’s mind. As fun as it might be, it would not be productive. So, Loki purposely scuffed his boot along the floor as he entered the room.

Banner looked up from the computer monitor, removing his glasses. He looked around the room, absently realizing they were alone. “Loki.”

“I would like to speak with you.” He circled the worktable, eyes instantly taking in the data flowing across the screen. Banner was examining his plans for an energy converter. “If you have a moment?”

“Um, yeah.” The doctor motioned to the chair. “What’s on your mind?”

Loki lowered himself slowly into the chair, gathering his thoughts. After spending the night skimming through the recollections of your day in the city, he found himself at odds. The mortals of Midgard never meant anything more than a distraction to him. At the most, they were a means to an ends. They were too fragile, too short lived, to be of any significance. However, after seeing them through your eyes he realized something most distressing. He found something in common.  

On Asgard, he learned at a very young age to conceal his emotions and lock them away. Even though Asgardians reveled in battle and celebrated robustly, they were not prone to the depth of feelings he seemed to possess. Only his mother seemed to understand. He always felt as if it were a cruel trick of the Norns, that they would make him so keenly aware of other’s motivations and yet feel the impact of their actions so deeply.  

Loki had laid beside you, petting you hair as you slept, as he made peace with the realization that for all of Midgardian’s frailties there was an intensity and depth of emotion he understood. He never would have understood were it not the connection he now shared. He’d been blind to it for a millennia.

“What is the status of people?” Loki asked, nothing of his inner turmoil on his face or in his voice.

“The, ah, people?” Banner cocked his head.

“The people of your city? What have your rulers done to assure their safety and well-being? Are they being housed and fed? Have proper tributes been made to the honored dead?” Loki leaned forward, intent.  

“Oh.” Bruce leaned back, tossing his glasses on the table. He rubbed his forehead. “That’s a big question. See, things don’t really work quite the same here.”

“Explain.”

“So, what is this about?” Fury strode down the hall toward Stark and Rogers.

“Banner just asked us to join him and Loki in the conference room. They have something to discuss.” Steve shrugged. He knew Bruce well enough to trust that they would not be wasting their time.

“Apparently, the good doctor has been giving Reindeer Games a civics lesson.” Tony smirked. Fury scowled. “What? This could be interesting.”  

The three turned the corner towards one of the many conference rooms in the tower. Loki’s voice boomed down the hall. “That’s barbaric!” Banner answered but it wasn’t clear. The god’s voice still reverberated down the hall. “And they call me monster!”  

Tony glanced sideways a Fury with a grin. “See? Interesting.”

In the conference room, Bruce sat on the table near one of the big screens showing a long list of statistics. Loki paced along the outer wall, staring out the window. Steve came fully into the room. “What’s barbaric?”  

Loki stopped, hands fisted. He turned slowly towards Rogers. “That the rulers chosen by your precious country, provide neither guaranteed care for their physical well-being, nor recompense for the loss of their domicile or trade during war or disaster.” Loki growled a little deeper. “And there are no tributes given to the honored dead.”

Fury sighed, “There are programs that...”

Loki cut him off. “Oh, yes, I’ve read all about your programs of so-called welfare, and health-care, and other miasma filled bureaucracy. From what I can tell, most of the resources go to those who already have resources to spare. What ruler allows their subjects to suffer so?”

“Oh, so you arrived and blew everything to shit to be a benevolent king?” Fury spat.  

“There is no such thing as homelessness, or hunger, on Asgard.” Loki hissed. “No one dies because their wounds or ailments go untreated.”

“Well, we’re not a world of bottomless resources.” Fury bit back.

“You have more than enough!” Loki stepped closer.

“Loki.” Bruce’s quiet voice cut through the tension. “Let’s dial it back, and get on topic.”

He took a deep breath, giving Banner a subtle nod of his head, before returning to the window.  

Tony fought to keep the smirk off his face. He never imagined Loki and Banner swimming in the same side of social politics pool. “Yeah, ah, what’s up doc?”

“Loki wants to help with the rescues.”  

“I can locate survivors better than your technology. I can communicate with them if needed when you cannot. Besides, the use of my magic and my strength is as useful as yours in mere physical aspects of reaching the living.”

“Locating survivors would be a big advantage.” Steve easily admitted. “People may not be willing to accept your help, though.”

“There’s no need of them to know it is me.” Loki turned toward the Captain. A green shimmer fell over his body. Standing before them was a man, only vaguely similar in face. His hair was short and light brown. His face sported a light scruff of a beard. His skin took on a slightly more golden tone. He wore jeans and Stark issue pullover.  

“Just can do that whenever you want, huh?” Fury sighed.

“Yes.” Loki smiled. “Man, woman, any shape or form I wish. It is a key part of my nature.”

“Gotta be fun for Princess Buttercup.” Tony mumbled. Banner’s eyes widened. The corner of Loki’s lip twitched.

“Would this take away from the other work you’re doing?” Steve, ever the practical one, wanted to stay on point.

“I do not have the need of sleep that you mortals do.”

“Why?” Fury crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

“What do you mean?” Bruce began, but Fury held up a hand.  

“I want to know why, after three days, is Mr. High-and-mighty all of sudden interested in the welfare of a bunch of mortal ants under his boot.” Fury growled.

“I am interested in fulfilling my vow to the AllFather as completely and as quickly as possible. The century duration of the sentence is at his discretion. I intend to be far away from this rock long before the one hundred years are spent.” Loki lied easily.

Steve knew it was a lie. He’d seen the agony you’d been in evening before. Loki’s concern for your welfare and what he’d witnessed of your connection led him to believe that the Asgardian’s interest grew from his need to understand your pain. It was enough for him to believe in Loki intentions. “Okay, I’m in charge of the rescue effort. Let’s go figure out how to best work you in.”

Loki turned his eyes from Fury, settling instead on Rogers. He gave him a small bow of his head. “I’m at your disposal, Captain.”

You rolled over crawling from the fogginess of deep sleep. The pink rays of early sunlight broker through the cracks in the curtains. Frowning, you realized you were alone. Sitting up, you called out. “Loki?”

“Yes, my pet.” His form simmered into existence at the foot of the bed. “It’s early, why are you not sleeping?”

It took a moment for your brain to catch up with what you just saw. You frowned. “You’re not here, are you?”

Loki smile. “So perceptive. No, little one, I am downstairs meeting with Captain Rogers. Worry not. You should sleep some more.”

“No,” You stretched and kicked off the covers. “I’m up.”

“Mmm,” He purred drinking in the sight of your naked form. “Then I shall complete our meeting and join you shortly.”

You smiled, amazed the Loki standing in front of you wasn’t real. Although, you realized, you couldn’t smell him. He always smelled wonderful. “Finish what you’re doing. I’m just going to take a bath anyway.”

He chuckled. “In that case, I will be there all the sooner. Besides, I have news.”

A/N: Thanks to everyone for hanging in there. I’ve finally circled around to this and have four chapters in the works!

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[chocolategate]

Even Gods Love Frogs

Link to read on Ao3

Warnings: None

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Darcy & Thor friendship

Wordcount: 2k

Tags: Fluff, Animals, Darcy Loves Cats

I wrote this little thing for @pinkcoffeefrog.  

Thanks for beta reading @dresupi

“Wasn't Morris the cutest?” Darcy asked Thor as he flipped through a photo album of her childhood.

“He was indeed,” Thor answered. The photographs of a younger Darcy amused him. Her gap-toothed grin had stayed much the same, though her spectacles were far smaller and more flattering now. The orange feline in that particular picture hung in her arms as if he couldn't support his own body. “Was he a youngling?”

Darcy shook her head. “He was already fully grown by the time I was born. He's about nine in that picture.”

Thor frowned. That couldn't be true. Earth's beasts were indeed smaller than those on other planets, but according to a television program she'd shown him, some of the world's most deadly creatures were felines. The one she was holding was no larger than his forearm.

Darcy trailed her fingertip gently over the picture. “He was my best buddy. I miss having a cat.”

The sadness in her voice caught Thor off guard. He didn't understand much about the whims of Midgardians, but Darcy’s sadness hit him particularly hard. She was a brave warrior, much like himself. Sadness didn’t become her.  

“Can you not acquire another?”

She sighed and shut the photo book before hauling herself up off the couch to return it to its place on her overcrowded bookshelf. “My landlord doesn't allow pets.”

“Surely such a tiny creature would not be a nuisance.”

She huffed a laugh. “You'd think that, but cats can be kind of destructive. A lot of places around here don't allow pets of any kind, or if they do you have to pay a hefty deposit. Maybe someday, though,” she said with a tight smile that barely even lifted her cheeks.

She disappeared into the kitchen and left Thor sitting on the couch, stewing in his thoughts. There had to be some way for Darcy to have a cat. He would have to ask one of his other companions for advice.

On a rare Saturday afternoon that it wasn’t raining, Thor and Darcy walked to a nearby pet store. Thor had stopped by previously and learned it hosted local animal rescues almost every weekend and donated a portion of their proceeds for pet supplies back to those same rescues. The public was welcome, whether they wanted to adopt or simply spend some time playing with the animals.

As soon as the cat area came into view, Darcy squealed and Thor allowed her to pull him by the hand to the edge of the pen.

One of the volunteers, a kind-faced woman with graying hair got up to greet them.“Hi there, are you here to adopt or to play?”

“Just to play this time,” Darcy answered, the barest hint of that earlier sadness in her voice.

The woman let them into the pen, closing it behind them to keep all the wandering kittens in.

Darcy immediately dropped to her knees with the widest smile Thor had ever seen on her face. His heart swelled knowing he'd helped put it there.

He squatted down as well and observed a few of the cats before settling his attention on a sleek black one hiding beneath the table with the adoption paperwork. He scooted close enough to reach the cat, then waited patiently until it grew curious and took a few steps toward his outstretched hand. It glared up at him through piercing green eyes.

“Your coloring reminds me of my brother,” Thor said as the cat sniffed at his fingers. It turned away with a dismissive sneeze and he chuckled. “As does your countenance.”

He left the cat in peace and turned to where he'd left Darcy.

She was still on the ground in the middle of the pen, but now she had three kittens hanging from her sweater by their claws and two more in her arms. When he caught her eye she grinned and said, “This is literally the best day of my life.”

He crawled over and gave the biggest one, a handsome gray and white fellow, a scratch between the ears. It looked up and bit down on his fingertip with its sharp incisors. He let it chew fruitlessly on his finger for a minute, then pulled the digit free and said, “You have a warrior's spirit.”

“That one is pretty feisty,” Darcy agreed.

Thor brought the kitten close to his face and murmured, “May you be as mighty as Freyja's cats of old. I wish you a long and prosperous life, little one,” before setting the kitten back on the newspaper covered floor.

Several loud barks echoed through the store, startling some of the cats.

“I didn't know they had dogs,” Darcy said, comforting one of the frightened kittens in her arms.

Thor rose to his feet. “I should like to see these dogs.”

“Sure, dude. Go play with all the slobber-mouths. Just come back and get me when you're ready to go.”

She seemed content on her own, so he set off to explore. His first stop was the dog area. Most were significantly larger and more hearty than the cats had been, though several of the smallest appeared to be more cat than dog. One large golden dog reminded him of Captain Rogers if he were a dog.

He didn't linger there long, despite the warm feelings he got when the dogs licked his hands. The store housed a wide variety of animals, and he wanted to see all that he could of Midgard's “pets” while he could.

He passed some small hairy creatures, some tiny with long tails, others larger with no tails at all. Their information tags informed him they were mice, hamsters, and guinea pigs. There was also an enclosure with three long, sleek animals called ferrets. They looked like something Loki might like.

Toward the back of the store, away from the warm wriggling mammals, he finally found what he was looking for: a large wall of glass tanks cleverly camouflaged with leaves and logs to resemble a forest environment.

He peered inside one of them, grinning as wide as Darcy had when he spotted a snake coiled comfortably beneath a heat lamp. He hadn't seen one in centuries. As a boy, he'd spent vast amounts of time exploring the rougher terrain of Asgard, often with a cold-blooded companion or two, but once he matured and took on more responsibility for the realm, he had less time for such activities.

He hadn't been aware that Midgard was home to such creatures. Granted, this one was far smaller than any he'd come across before, but that made it even better. It could fit in his pocket. He'd be quite happy with a pocket snake.

He took his time and searched each of the rest of the containers with his eyes until he located their inhabitants. As with the cats, the creatures were smaller than he was used to, but he wasn't shocked until he came to the end of the aisle, where he found a species he'd never encountered before.

Unlike snakes, these creatures had four legs and short, round bodies. Their thin, wide-set mouths and large eyes gave them a friendly quality, and he squatted down to read the information posted beside each tank.

Frogs, they were called.

A vibrant green one with a thin white stripe down its side clung to the glass wall of the tank with its translucent toe pads and scooted away when he pressed a finger to the glass near its body. It was alone in its tank.

The next tank held five frogs, each no larger than the tip of his little finger and brilliant yellow with black stripes. The information sheet boasted of their poisonous skin and Thor grinned. It seemed even the smallest of Midgard's creatures were well equipped to take care of themselves.

That was one thing he admired most about the planet. Everything on it had such a short life span, but they all had one brilliant quality other planets could benefit from–they adapted to survive.

Thor crouched down and watched the little frogs in silent amusement until a tiny hand patted his elbow.

“Do you like frogs?” A tiny brunette, not dissimilar to Darcy, said.

“Aye, I’ve only just discovered them,” Thor replied.

“That’s neat. They used to be my favorites. Now I like ants.”

Thor hummed. There had been an ant featured on the most dangerous creatures show, so he could understand why the girl liked them.

“I have a pet one, but he’s not like other ants. He’s bigger than me.”

Thor didn’t know what to make of the statement. On the show, the ants had been quite tiny. Perhaps San Francisco was home to a giant species. It must be a fairly safe variety if the child was able to keep one as a pet.

“Have you seen these before?” He pointed to the tank of tiny yellow ones.

She leaned in to see and her face lit up.

As she cooed over the adorable little creatures, Thor  found himself wanting to introduce pets to his people. The life spans of Midgard's creatures was far too short, but perhaps Heimdall knew of a planet with creatures tame enough to be companions.

“Cassie,” a man’s voice called from nearby.

Thor rose to his feet just before the owner of the voice rounded the end of the aisle.

The man paused and several unreadable expressions flashed over his face before he settled on a pinched version of a smile. “Oh, hey there Peanut. What are you doing over here?”

The girl finally looked away from the tank and darted over to the man. “Daddy, you have to see these new frogs they got. This guy showed them to me,” she said as she dragged him by the hand to her previous spot.

Thor smiled. She reminded him of Darcy.

He noted how the man indulged the girl and chatted with her about the frogs, all while carefully positioning himself between Thor and his daughter. Thor took no offense to the protective gesture. He was far larger than most Midgardians and he was an imposing figure.

When it looked like the girl was going to spend a considerable amount of time looking at the frogs, Thor decided it was time to find Darcy.

As he walked away, the man followed him and once they were out of earshot from the girl, he said, “You look familiar. Ever spend any time in San Quentin?”

Thor shook his head. “I have not. I did spend several days in Puente Antiguo, however.”

The man’s face scrunched up the way Darcy’s did when she was thinking and Thor smiled. He saw a lot of her mannerisms in this little family.  

“I must go and find the friend I came with. Enjoy your day with your wonderful daughter. I believe she will grow into a fine warrior one day.”

His face scrunched even farther, if that was possible, and after Thor turned away, he heard the man say, “Thanks, man.”

Thor found Darcy right where he’d left her, though most of the cats around her were napping instead of using her body as a mountain for climbing.

She noticed him right away and gave him a wide, lazy smile. “You ready?”

“Only if you are satisfied.”

She removed the sleepy kittens from her person one at a time, kissing each on the nose before setting them back on the ground and spoke briefly with the woman at the desk before joining Thor outside the pen.

She hooked her arm through his offered elbow and leaned against his arm, resting her head against the pillow of his muscles.

As they walked back to Darcy’s tiny apartment, thunder rumbled through the sky above them.

Darcy glanced up at him. “Is that you?”

“No,” he replied with a soft smile. While the storms he created were indeed magnificent, he truly enjoyed Midgard’s natural weather patterns. The natural static in the air filled him with a buzzing energy that he couldn't manufacture on his own.

They were only a block from home when the skies opened up, and instead of making a run for it, Darcy paused. She tucked her glasses on the neck of her shirt and folded her jacket over them, then tilted her head up, giggling as the moisture collected on her cheeks and in her hair.

Laughter rumbled through Thor's chest and he joined her, embracing the feel of the icy droplets as they splashed against his skin.

Someday he'd find a way to get Darcy her cat, but for now this was enough.