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thekatfuzz · 2 years ago

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Shadow of a Doubt (Preview)

So how about that episode 2 huh?? 👀 when I saw Loki using his shadow magic for the first time in the trailer even before the episode released I knew I had to write a fic about it. So here 'tis!

Pairing: Loki x TVA Hunter Reader

Warnings: eventual smut, shadow magic, use of restraints, slight non-con, slight dark!Loki. **contains slight spoilers for Season 2.**

Rating: M

London, 1977

Night in the city never slept. It wasn't a stressful or rushed state of being awake, but it was rather just alive and existing. The distant sound of sirens from a fire truck nearby, some honking cars here and there, and the distant music and chatter of people on the phone or couples talking to each other walking past you. The ambiance and the world around you seemed distant and unimportant in comparison to your important mission--compromise Variant L1130-- also known as Loki Laufeyson.

You've seen him before, at the TVA and in files that you read. He thought he was the God of Mischief or something. At least thats what Mobius said. You didnt know what he saw in Loki. Mobius has always been interested in such strange things.

Of course, the Variant was mysterious--and not to mention, quite handsome. The mugshot on his file depicted a good-looking man with chiseled cheekbones and raven black hair. Sure, you thought he was good looking, and you wouldnt kick him out of bed if you found him there, but of course you wouldnt go out actively wanting to sleep with a rouge Variant--no matter how hot they were.

You had your assignment. And you had your warnings. Loki's file had mentioned his use of magic and illusions and the image of big, impact text on the file flashed through your head:

"IF CONFRONTED, PROCEED WITH CAUTION."

But you weren't worried. You were in disguise anyway. Your Tempad and pruning stick tucked away cleverly and your determination on display. You've dealt with hundreds of so-called perilous Variants before, how different could this one be?

You got to a shadowed intersection and you looked around. It seemed quieter here. Flickering streetlights lit the slick cobblestone streets as low footsteps and indistinct chatter could be heard. A few people could be seen walking here and there a distance away, but there wasn't much here. All of a sudden, you could have sworn you saw a person appear out pf nowhere out of the corner of your eye. You would have usually just shrugged off as your eyes playing tricks on you in the dimly lit street and kept walking, but something didnt feel right.

The air felt colder and it felt like the sounds of the world were even more further away now as a chill ran up your spine. You felt alone but at the same time, like you were being watched. You looked around frantically, not even knowing what you were looking for. Your hand went quickly to where you hid your pruning stuck, ready to fight or fly.

Suddenly a shadow caught the corner of your eye on the wall. You turned to face it, but it was gone.

What the hell?

Your breathing became faster and you leapt into action, running away. You barely made it a few feet until you felt your arm be tugged backwards, halting you. You shot your head back to see who was holding you back, fully ready to fight back--only to see in surprised confusion that there was no one holding your wrist. It was like a ghost was gripping your arm with invisible fingers but very real strength.

It took you longer than it should have to notice the towering shadow on the wall. It was definitely a human, a male probably, holding your arm. It was like the shadow, somehow, was restraining you.

"What the...." you whispered aloud.

You tried to wriggle free and managed to for a few seconds, until you felt another similar invisible hand grip your other wrist. The next thing you knew you were pinned with your back against the stone wall, looking out at the end of the alleyway where light poured in through a rectangular opening.

Heart thundering and mind racing, you extended your neck a bit in front of you and looked up at the wall you were held against. Two large shadows this time. They looked the same, each holding your arms out to the side like you were shackled to the hard stone wall.

Then, you saw it. First from one shadow, than the other-- a set of sharp, curving horns began to grow out of the black shadows' heads. You watched in surprise as the horns began to bloom and didnt even notice the man striding towards you, eyes glowing an otherworldly green.

"Well, well..." purred the voice, in a velvety English accent. "What have we here?"

Loki.

The infamous Variant stepped out the shadows in a very elegant suit with a white ruff in his chest and a neat bow tie. His hair was slicked black and his hands were clasped behind his back. He sauntered over to you, smirking. Looking like a spider who had just caught a decadent fly in its web.

He waved his hand again, and your clothes changed as your breath hitched. Your disguise melted away to reveal your black TVA hunter armor. You gritted your teeth. This was annoying, but this wouldnt stop you. So what he knew you were from the TVA. He would be incarcerated there soon enough.

You jerked and struggled against the shadow bonds as Loki chuckled.

"Don't bother, darling." He mused. "Shadow magic--quite useful, actually. Very hard to break out of it's grip."

"Loki Laufeyson--" You said, hoping your voice carried more confidence and certainty than you felt. "You are under arrest by the Time Variance Authority for crimes of sabotaging the Sacred Timeline."

He raised an eyebrow. "Am I?" He said in mock surprise. He looked around. "So I've been told before."

He stepped closer to you, his features sharp in the dim light. "Go on then hunter, arrest me." He put out his wrists in an exaggerated act of surrender. He paused a moment then looked back up at you. "Oh dear, but you can't though, can you? You seem to be a little...incapacitated, darling."

"Don't call me that." You spat, blood boiling. Maybe you wouldnt even take him back to the TVA--maybe you would just give yourself the satisfaction of pruning him right here and now.

He looked taken aback.

"Trust me Variant, when I'm free--"

"I'll be sorry?" Loki said, sounding bored. "Yes, yes. Heard it all before. You hunters are so cute when you try to threaten me."

He stepped closer yet again to your restrained body, closing the space between you. You could nearly feel his breath on your face now as he looked down at you with his piercing green gaze.

Your heart hammered in your throat, loud enough that you hoped he couldn't hear.

"Do you know who I am?" He asked, running a finger down your cheek, making you shudder.

Your face flushed, praying he couldnt see it in the darkness.

"Of course I do." You choked out. "You're a villain. A Variant. A threat to Time itself." You stabbed. Loki smirked.

"Am I?" He said, amused. "You seem to have such strong opinions about me. Did they warn you about me, Variant? About how dangerous and horrible I can be?"

"I'm not afraid of you." You said boldly. "I haven't even seen you do anything more than your silly shadow puppets and your outfit-changing trick."

"Oh." Loki growled. He came even closer to you and grabbed your chin, his chest pressing you against the hard brick wall behind you. Your wrists felt cold and ached from the restraining phantom hands.

"Well..." Loki said, lifting your head up forcefully. He lowered his voice to a growl, and locked his gaze with yours. "Perhaps I've just been waiting for a moment like this, so I can do terrible, awful things to you."

#tom hiddleston #loki #hehe >:3 #loki x reader #loki x you #tva #loki series #loki season 2 #loki spoilers #marvel #fic #loki smut #loki lemon #dom!loki #dark!loki

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jacks347 · 5 months ago

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When's the last time I gave Makkaro some love, I can't remember. Unacceptable, I must fix this immediately

(This genuinely took forever fucking HELL)

~~~

It cost his life, took more than he gave

Now he watches from the grave

Makkaro knew he was never going to see the gates of heaven. He knew better than to expect any misgiving of his to be forgiven after all he'd done. He had made his peace with eternal flames and torment.

But this...

This was different. This was neither.

An endless chasm of darkness, devoid of anything other than him. Well, him and a massive window playing his memories. Over and over, making him watch his rise and fall on loop for an eternity without any way to change the outcome.

How fitting for him. A trial of insanity until he overcame it or lost himself in it. Only this time, there would be no reprieve from his mind tearing itself apart in the sweet release of death. It was only right for him.

Saw his hand built kingdom burn

Misses home and can't return

It wasn't his fault. He hadn't meant for it to get so out of hand. He never wanted her to be caught in the middle of this. She swore she would always stand by his side, that was what she'd promised him! What she had vowed to him! It wasn't his fault if she decided to walk out on those promises.

He didn't need her, he never did. Sure, her cause was the spark that caused the flame but now that he had things burning he had no use for her simple-minded desires anymore. No, he had much bigger plans. He was going to tear this city down and cleanse it in vengeful fire. He'd build it back up the way it was supposed to be the entire time. And he'd do it all himself.

All by himself.

All alone.

Always alone.

So very lonely.

When did it get so cold-

No, he couldn't think like that. This was his masterpiece, his life's work, the thing he'd given up everything for. He had to see it through. If he didn't, all that sacrifice would be for nothing. So what if he had skewed so far off the original path that he no longer recognized the destination he was going to? So what if the woman he'd sworn to do this all for had tried to pull him back from going too far? So what if he no longer recognized himself in the mirror with all the blood on his hands? So. What.

None of it mattered. It couldn't matter. If it mattered, it would mean he was wrong and he couldn't be wrong. Not after he'd gone this far. He was long past the point of no return, having doubts now would end in his death. This was his cross to bear.

But he missed her.

Gods forgive him, every heartbeat was a reminder that it beat for someone who was no longer with him. Every second without her ached like a wound that wouldn't heal; scabbing over and granting the relief of numbness until something reminded him that she was gone and would rip it back open, bleeding with the agony of loss again.

He wanted her back. Her sweet eyes, her kind smile, her forgiving heart, he just wanted her back. He wanted their simple life back, the house in the woods where they hid their love from the world, that place where it was just the two of them. Not a princess and a detective, not a runaway and a wanted criminal, not anything the world was expecting them to be. Just Makarro and Gienne, husband and wife.

And he had pushed it all away. The best thing that had ever happened to him and he decided he didn't need her. But that couldn't be further from the truth. He needed her like oxygen, he needed her to keep him grounded in reality. He was losing his mind without her, he'd never survive without her. He had to fix this. He'd go crazy if he didn't.

He just didn't know how.

Says he's happy, he's a liar

Blame the arson for the fire

Where had it all gone so wrong? Actually, he knew exactly where it went wrong. The day she'd showed up with that child of the woman tyrant, there to stop him. The day he'd looked into her eyes and saw them set against him instead of standing with him. Somewhere deep in his heart, he knew then that something was horribly wrong. That he was horribly wrong. But he couldn't admit it, not now, not after everything he'd done to get here. But she was right there. She was back. If he reached out, he could touch her, and she wouldn't vanish like the delirious visions he was so familiar with when sleep evaded him for days. She was there. His darling had returned to him.

But at the same time, she wasn't. No, his darling's eyes never held such brokenhearted contempt for him. His beloved never looked so tired because of him. His wife never stood opposing him like this. But here they were. She was speaking but the words weren't reaching him. He could only process the sound of her voice, like a choir of angels that had all had their wings clipped. He could only stare at her, caught between his lonely heart's relief and his crazed mind's anger. How had he gotten this bad to where he could possibly be angry at the one he held so dear? At a different time, he would've balked at the mere idea of actually turning his righteous anger against the one who had caused it in the first place.

But this was not a different time.

And he was not that same man.

"All of this...I did all of this for you. My entire life I dedicated to you and this is how you thank me?!" He spat the words like they tasted bad, venom lacing his tone.

"I never asked for this, Makkaro!" She shot back like driving a knife into his chest. Makkaro? When was the last time he'd heard her call him by his name? Where had the warm, soothing nicknames that had tamed his worst fears and soothed his every worry gone? Had he driven them away?

He heard himself laugh, an ugly, bitter sound. It didn't sound like him. "No one asks for war, princess. But if it's change you want, then it's war you get. Every royal decree has a price in blood."

No...what was he saying? He felt like he was watching someone that wasn't him puppet his body. A monster, set on death and destruction no matter who or what stood in his way. A monster that would sacrifice the wife he held so dear simply because she dared to challenge him. Was this how far he had fallen? Was this who he had become?

No, it couldn't be. It was the necromancy talking. That dark, perverse power that fueled him had possessed him. That was it, that had to be it. It wasn't his fault, it wasn't even him. It was this power that corrupted him. This power that made him push Gienne away, gods forgive him for the sadness he saw in her eyes she never deserved it, the power that made him fall so far that this was what he became.

It wasn't his fault, he couldn't be blamed for this. It was this power, this uncontrollable urge to destroy.

Maybe if he kept saying it, he'd start believing it.

That phrase kept running through his mind, even as he lay dying in the ruins of everything he'd built. What could he blame now? His fortress was reduced to rubble, his cause was in tatters, his spirit was broken. He could only stare up at the acrid sky in defeat, left to ponder where he'd lost his way.

"Makkaro!"

What was that?

"Mak!"

Was someone calling for him?

"My love, please!"

It sounded like an angel. Was one coming for his soul?

"There you are!"

A figure came into his line of sight, dropping by his side and beginning to check over his injuries. She looked so familiar but it couldn't be. No, she would never come back to him, not after all he'd done.

"Darling...?"

"I'm here, my love, I'm here." Gienne soothed, lacing her hand with his as she pulled his upper body into her lap. "Oh, I was so worried, I thought I'd lost you."

She'd actually come back for him...

She hadn't left him...

She still loved him...

"Darling...I'm so sorry." He wheezed, the words scraping his throat raw.

Sorry wasn't enough. She deserved so much more than sorry. Regret racked every fiber of his being, sorrow pounded against his skull like a drum, defeat weighed so heavy on his chest it was hard to breathe. But he didn't have strength for anything more than sorry. He could only hope she knew he meant so much more than sorry.

"Shh, I know, save your strength and stay alive." She fussed, moving the hair from his face. He could only stare into her eyes, memorizing the color he'd taken for granted for so long. Had they always been that beautiful or had he just not been appreciating them enough?

He wasn't going to make it. A piece of him knew it from the start but now he knew for sure. He was dying and there was nothing he could do to stop it. The only solace he could take was that he was dying in the arms of his wife.

He wanted to reach out to her, to tell her he loved her before he lost all strength, but he couldn't bring himself to. He couldn't break the gentle silence that wrapped around them like a shield. He just stared into her eyes, hoping his held all the love and regret he felt. She smiled down at him, that perfect smile that warmed his very soul. "I forgive you, Makkaro. I can only hope you learn to forgive yourself."

His vision slowly blurred until it faded to black, taking in the last vestiges of the woman he loved. How could he ever forgive himself for betraying her? How could he ever rest knowing what he'd done to her? This wasn't right, it couldn't be over until he made it right.

He had to make it right.

He had to rewrite his ending.

He just didn't know how.

But someone did. Someone who was always listening. Someone who had an idea.

If he wants to cleanse his blame

He'll have to invoke my name

"So you wish to return, is that it?" The voice was coy, knowing it held his fate in it's hands and relishing in it. He couldn't see the person's entire face, only from the mouth down. And the amused grin they held made his stomach churn.

Makkaro swallowed hard. He had one chance to get this right. If he messed up here, he risked erasing his entire existence. "Yes. I wish to go back. I want a chance to fix things. I-I realize what I did was wrong, I need to fix this I can't lose her-"

The voice laughed, leaning forward to rest their chin in their hand. "Oh? Is that what this is about? Her? The fact you betrayed her for power? Pushed her aside for your own plans instead of the ones you made together? Abandoned everything you promised her for your own selfish reasons?"

Makkaro winced with every reason they gave, each one like a further knife twist in his chest. "I messed up, I know-" "Messed up? Is that what you're calling it?" "What do you want me to say?" He asked, exasperated. "What do you want from me? Do I need to grovel, beg for forgiveness, must I languish myself for you to accept that I know I am broken and selfish and unworthy of her love? I know I am undeserving of her and she had every reason to leave me but I have fought my way to you for a second chance. Isn't that enough?"

The person paused. He couldn't see their eyes but he could feel them watching him, scorching his skin with a stare that judged his every action.

"Fine."

"Wait...what?"

"Fine. I'll let you go back and try again. But not like how you came. If you really want to earn your happy ending, you'll have to find someone else's first."

Someone else's happy ending. Live another's life until he could return to his own. "Will I remember before? My previous life? What I'm fighting for?" "Maybe. Maybe not. You'll never know until you get there." The voice had regained its teasing lilt. "So, we got a deal?"

Makkaro contemplated for a minute. If he went though with this, he'd be stuck in someone else's life for gods know how long and he wouldn't even remember what he was living for. If he screwed up again, he'd never be able to see his precious darling again. Gienne and her story would be lost to time forever.

But he had to.

He had to see her.

"Deal."

The smile widened, knuckles cracking before coming to rest on the familiar keys. "Then you know what to do."

He did. He took a breath, reciting a prayer he didn't even realize he knew until the words began to spill out of him.

"Great weaver of stories I invoke you, change my fate from the cruel hands who brought me to ruin. Give me the ending you so desire in a hope of one better than reality."

"And a new ending you shall receive." The hands started to move, clicking away on the keys as they rewrote his fate. His vision blurred and faded, falling into the darkness as he heard an excited giggle. "This is gonna be fun."

One way to absolve his crime

A different form, a different time

"Crow? You still with me?" Raven's voice snapped Crow out of his daze. "Yes Raven, I am here. I did not go anywhere."

Raven raised an eyebrow at him. "You sure? You seemed pretty in your head there. Whatcha thinking about?" It was an interesting question. What was he thinking about? He honestly couldn't remember. But he couldn't shake the cold feeling of fear and dread in his chest. Memories at the very edge of his consciousness that seemed just out of reach, not that they felt like his to remember anyway. "It was nothing. Old memories. They are gone now." Raven stared at him for a moment before letting it go with a shrug. "If you insist. Now come on, we've got work to do."

Crow followed behind Raven, the cold in his chest melting into warmth. Something told him this time would be different. He'd protect her this time. No matter what it cost.

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