#mochie85 does art

[mochie85]

Sigyn

2023.07.09 Sigyn taking a midnight stroll through the garden, waiting for her husband to come home from battle. Digital - Procreate

Art Work Masterlist | Complete Masterlist

Other Variants:

[chantsdemarins]

😅Real Villain Training [Tom Hiddleston circa 2012 X Fem.Reader]

Chapter three of Breath of the Æsir is almost here. I’m SO sorry for the wait! In the meantime, I hope you enjoy a very brief Tom story...

Honestly, I pledged to myself, no more Tom stories just focus on Loki. But I think I just can't help it. Especially when slutty inspiration like this photo comes my way (@lokischambermaid and @lokisgoodgirl 😳)

I am humbled by this era of Tom. In 2024 he is a husband/father/seasoned iconic actor in perpetual good cheer, but in 2012, he was a bad boy. As always please reblog and comment if you feel inspired!

Summary: Tom is hanging out with some real jerks for a new role, and he runs into you, literally. Your depression has caused your life to turn a little black and white, could this handsome stranger possibly add some color back? (at least to your cheeks🥵).

Smut factor: I hope...HOT 🔥

(Authors note: I have no concrete proof he was in fact a bad boy so please don't take seriously my young Tom plot themes of drugs and sex, which once again appear here. I could be totally wrong about him. It's art! It's a fabrication! Also, this story does involve mental health!)

I also don't know who would want to be on a tag list for a Tom fic these days! These are a few people who might be interested?? @lokischambermaid @mochie85 @mischief2sarawr @lokisgoodgirl @wheredafandomat @sailorholly @mrs-illyrian-baby @superficialdomina @gigglingtiggerv2 @fictive-sl0th @muddyorbs @tbhiddlestan83 @huntress-artemiss @smolvenger @kikster606 @mjsthrillernp @hiroyukinasukawa

Los Angeles, 2012

That afternoon, the rooftop pool at the Saint Avalon was a pink swirl of bathing beauties in early spring. Tom tried to focus on his deadpan conversation with his agent, but polka dots and silly cocktails danced around him. He pushed his Ray-Bans back into place, his sweat—or perhaps nervousness—causing them to slowly slide off his nose.

"Serious British actor succumbs to being typecast as a Norse sociopath. That's where this is headed, Tom, if we don’t do something, get you something else.” “Do you really want to be known only for Marvel?” he repeated his plea. The words just weren’t sinking in.

Tom laughed and inadvertently tried to change the subject. "Have you been to the La Brea Tar Pits yet, John? It’s wild—10,000 years' worth of dire wolf bones.”

His stare remained galvanized by the poolside girls. They just didn't look like that in London. Number one, the sunshine. Number two, the tans. Number three, well, his girlfriend—or ex-girlfriend, rather—made it hard to look too long at anyone else. So had he ever found himself at a rooftop pool party, he wouldn't have had the chance he was having now.

“Tom, are you paying attention? This is important. You're only here for a week, and we need to move on this role. I need to know if you're a yes.” The truth was, Tom was suddenly filthy rich with his own money for the first time in his life. He really loved being a Norse sociopath and already had big ideas for Loki’s eventual character arc into becoming an anti-hero someday. He had filled three journals on his bedside stand with his ideas for Loki.

His agent tried again, “Just hang out with Giorgio. It’s less than a month. Then the movie should be a very easy shoot. You get to embed yourself with some real hedge fund cats.” Tom’s attention snapped back. “Wait, I like that.” “Right? It’s like if Loki worked on Wall Street.” “Well…” Tom hesitated. He didn’t think Loki would actually ever bore himself that way. Those guys were boring to Tom and to Loki.

His poor agent was right, though. He did need another role. Things had gone so well; filming for the next Avengers movie was starting this summer. If he could find another gig, a time filler, a totally different genre, it really would be the best for his career. “Then a play next,” the agent mused, taking a sip of his own cocktail. “Shakespeare, or something 70s.” “70s? As in the 1570s? Or the 1970s?” “Tom.” “How should I know?” Tom laughed to himself, eyes still canvassing the poolside display around him. His agent leaned across his lawn chair and placed his hand on Tom’s shoulder. “So, you’ll do it?”

Two Weeks Later

Deep down, he knew he didn’t have the dissociation required for the job. He was too corporeal, too embodied. Years of being a long-distance runner and a trained athlete had fastened his mind, heart, and soul firmly into his muscles. He clearly wouldn’t be able to hide his feelings in his highly emotive, sensitive body. That was the first thing he noticed about the guys he was forced to hang out with for this role. They were covered up with their suits and sexist jokes. It was like they had Hadrian’s Wall around them. Which was, in fact, what exactly led to his sudden departure from the bar at Rue 23.

He had been embedded with short and loud Glen, buzz-cut Ellis, and the tall and lanky, just like him, Brad Nelson. There were a few others, but they were too milquetoast to be memorable. Role be damned. He left so fast the thick glass door almost hit a nice young couple as he bolted into the cold Los Angeles spring night.

He wasn’t dressed right; in his haste to leave London, he didn’t remember that California got into the 40s after the sun went down. He didn’t even pack a suit coat. Thank God he remembered to grab his leather pack from under the bar. It contained exactly five cigarettes, a finicky Zippo, his aftershave, a white t-shirt, and a travel toothbrush. There might also be a rolled-up Popular Mechanics magazine from the Burbank airport, something he never would be caught dead reading at Heathrow.

He also hadn’t done so much coke since he was in college. Why was LA always so incredibly cliché? He couldn’t blame Luke. He couldn’t blame anyone but himself for this role. He said yes when he was distracted. He was in over his head. They had hired these real blokes to make sure Tom looked authentic when they started filming next month, and given his intense drive for perfection, he had agreed that it was “brilliant” of the casting director to force the eight of them to spend these weeks in Los Angeles and one week in Manhattan, in a true immersive centrifuge of shallow materiality.

The night spun around him, a neon ball of yarn, teasing open his pupils until his eyes were black and not at all blue. As he walked, he ran his large hands down the surface of his body, the material of his shirt feeling like a fancy pillowcase from a boutique hotel.

One finger lingered over his jawline, tracing it as he brought his hands back up to his face. Engrossed in the comfort of his form a moment too long, he was distracted once again. This part of LA seemed to always be full of clusters of locals and tourists, laughing and talking. He was unfortunately moving against the flow of the crowd, a wayward salmon when he almost ran straight into you.

“Watch where you're going!” you yelled, dropping your purse onto the dirty LA sidewalk. It opened enough for your things to tumble out. Tom immediately stopped and bent down to help you, but you batted his hands away. “What the hell? I can pick up my own damn Chapstick,” you scolded. “Ma’am, I am so sorry, I am obviously not from here, and I am a little overwhelmed,” he rattled off. “Why is that obvious?” “My accent, of course.” “I didn’t honestly notice,” you spoke as you inspected the tall man’s face with squinting eyes.

You, of course, did immediately notice the timbre of his voice, his height, and the buttons on his tight shirt which looked like they were in the process of unbuttoning themselves. “Would you believe I’ve been doing coke all night with a bunch of Wall Street assholes at the Rue 23, and I had to get the fuck out of there,” he continued, not sure if you were listening, but you were definitely looking at him, so he continued.

“So now I am wandering the streets of Beverly Hills, and I haven’t the foggiest how the rest of my night will go.” You shuffled your feet for a moment before speaking. You had been heading home after a long day at work. You felt genuinely unprepared for navigating a handsome foreigner in the right direction. Yet there was a certain appeal to a man suddenly without his ship or his crew, so to speak. So you didn’t immediately walk away.

He had been shuffled from the airport to the bar in a hired car, he tried to explain, and his sense of direction bordered on problematic. Further, his flip phone was really only good for texting, and that even took way too long most days. He really did seem high, overwhelmed, and a little lost. He also seemed the type unable to handle any silence in a conversation.

“Do you live far?” he said after suffering through 30 seconds of no discourse. “It’s LA, everything is far.” “Fair enough,” Tom muttered sheepishly, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt, which were still somehow unbuttoning themselves. He thought he had bought the right size shirt. Maybe not.

You realized that if you were to ask this too-high, too-hot British man back to your apartment, you would inevitably cave and end up sleeping with him just because he caught you in this particular moment of your life. It was an in-between time. You weren't quite your old self and your new self that you'd been working so hard on, hadn't emerged yet.

“Want to grab something to eat?” You finally offered a neutral segue. That seemed to be just what the man needed to hear. His demeanor calmed. “Oh sure, yes, I could go for a big American cheeseburger, honestly.” “Okay then, let’s go to Patty’s on Vine, we can walk,” you said as you pulled at his shirt to turn him toward the right direction. He bristled at the feeling of your touch.

His whole body was even more sensitive than usual. You looked like the queen of the ancient British Iceni to him. In truth, he didn’t much care for the California look. He loved that you appeared out of nowhere and you looked like Boudica, not like Gwyneth Paltrow. Even though he was sure he heard she was nice. RDJ seemed to really love her.

The diner where you were headed was the second-tier after-hours hang, so it wasn’t populated with the usual crowd, not yet at least. You had some time before you would be inundated, and perhaps before someone would recognize him, which you still did not. You could ask him, of course. Although, sometimes in Los Angeles, the worst part is knowing who someone is.

Although Tom being Tom was unable to resist personal questions. “Tell me a little bit about yourself, just a little,” he had to ask as the night air propelled him quickly down the sidewalk. You considered telling him about your job, but it was just how you paid the bills. Your passions were your passions and not for a stranger. So you decided to be a little goth. It couldn't hurt.

“I have something like anhedonia, I suppose,” you finally said. Tom seemed to know what you meant right away. “The inability to feel?” He spoke. “More classically refined, which results in numbness, making capturing interior somatic sensations nearly impossible,” you clarified. “Sounds like you are depressed,” Tom flattened out your creative retelling of your current state. “Maybe,” although you weren't sure of his simple label. "You think it will pass?" Tom continued, ever the optimist.

You considered one way to try and test if this state you'd been in could possibly change, would be to see if he could provoke feelings of passion or at least some kind of low-grade horniness. You’d been feeling functionally blank for a while now.

He was stunning, after all.

He seemed game for anything, his amphetamine grin taking up the majority of his handsome face. He looked so lovely under the hanging light in your dingy booth. You ate the two-egg special you ordered and watched him devour his American cheeseburger with genuine joy.

“So, you're here to practice for a new part?” You sincerely tried to keep the conversation flowing despite the growing desire to test your theory. “Yes, they want me to branch out. In my career, there’s the fear I am already 'type-casted,' I guess you could say.” “Type-casted? So early on?”

He looked young to you. Possibly younger than you actually. “Yes, I had a big role as a villain, it really blew up, but, he's like a mythological comic book one. I am misunderstood mostly. I mean my character, not me.” "Sure." You nodded in understanding and agreed even if you didn’t quite pick up what he was putting down. You wondered if he had ever seen 'The Last Starfighter.' A favorite movie of yours, you rarely shared with anyone else. Or had he been in that? Your mind wandered. You really didn't recognize him, but you also didn't want to offend him by this fact.

“So how would this role be redefining your abilities? If you are playing a heartless hedge fund dude, isn’t that also a kind of villain? Maybe that is why you got this part.” Tom pondered your insight. He again fell into overthinking and was only a text away from bailing on the entire endeavor. He was becoming that kind of guy, emotionally uneven under his elite veneer.

“I guess they feel like I don’t have the chops to be a 'real world' baddie.” “I needed more practice.” “You don’t?” you said very timidly, suddenly you weren’t hungry anymore. You gently pushed your plate aside so you could focus.

You realized his bromance compadres would find him eventually. Another LA truth: it was hard to get truly lost for long. You had been studying his face during the conversation. His pale complexion was slowly becoming flushed in small increments. Was it shyness or a hidden boldness he was bursting to demonstrate, you couldn't tell.

You had worn your espadrilles today, maybe it wasn’t the right season yet, but they always went so well with your outfit-a flowery dress from H&M. Gently and playfully, you kicked one of them off your foot, making a soft thud. Tom dipped his eyes beneath the table for only a moment and brought them back to you, a new flash of crimson emerging. Why were you taking off your shoes? Maybe your feet hurt from the walk?

He picked up his water and chugged almost all of it.

Your right leg lifted up and found purchase exactly between his, landing on the soft seat. Tom chuckled nervously and grabbed your foot. “Just what are you doing?” “I thought you were in training to be a real villain. Or did I misunderstand that?” You teased. Tom’s sincerity and earnestness were effulgent. “Oh no, I am, I really want the part, I need this role.” Suddenly when the idea of something illicit going on beneath the table loomed, he was not reticent about this new role. “Then you better continue to practice.” You laughed, your own smile forming across your face. “How long do we have until they find you?” You inched your foot closer to his crotch.

Tom took a deep breath in and pulled out his flip phone eyes squinting, trying to see the rectangle text banner across the tiny screen. He held the phone up to you. “Can you read this at all?” You grabbed it from him, feeling his hand shaking a little. It was charming. He was nervous.

You read the tiny screen aloud, “Not really, something about where are you at…you wanker, we are about to call your agent." It did say exactly that, and you wondered if possibly Tom was throwing away this role. Were you watching him collapse his career before your eyes? “Are you one for self-sabotage Tom?” The question seemed to catch him off guard. Maybe no one had asked him so bluntly. “Maybe,” he said after a long minute of typing something on the seemingly minute phone with his long fingers and even larger hands. “Just like I am possibly depressed," you offered. He looked up and sat his phone down. “Yes, I think so. Just like that.”

Incoming

Just then the waitress came by filled your water glasses and gave you another quick refill of coffee. Your chosen sobriety was a strange foil to Tom’s imbibed stimulant cocktail which showed no sign of waning. “So, are we on?” He finally said after biting his bottom lip, for what seemed like a year, until it was slightly puffy.

“For what? A staring contest?” You offered, laughing nervously too, your foot still stationed between his thighs. You wondered what you could accomplish at this hour with the looming threat of an incursion at any moment.

The glimmer in his dilated orbs registered that Tom was now aligned in a mission of testing the perpetuity of your anhedonic state. Suddenly under the table, you felt his long legs spread yours apart, like opening a long-closed window that had been painted over.

You gasped but didn’t say anything. He laughed and widened his legs further. You moved your eyes to watch him under the table, his hand reaching down to adjust his cock, which was obviously becoming hard.

At that moment you wanted to jump over to his side of the booth, you wanted to concede and take him to your far away apartment in embarrassing Marina Del Rey.

Tom went silent and finally let go of your bare foot, he had been holding it so hard with his other hand, that you were sure it would be bruised. You immediately placed it on his now impossibly hard cock, tenting his pants obscenely. Honestly, you’d never given a “foot job” before and only seen something like this in a French film once. You had no idea what you were doing.

You slowly began to move your foot up and down his length, which was quite impressive and required more force than you had anticipated. You curled your toes around him to try and create more friction, dragging your heel just at the base.

You placed your hands on the edge of the diner seat so you could put some real weight into getting him off. That seemed to work, and Tom let out a guttural moan. He quickly grabbed your water glass and drank it in addition to his own.

“Should I stop?” You let yourself wonder out loud. “Are you crazy? No.” Was Tom’s quick reply. “Does this feel good?” “Fuck yes.” His voice was breathy, and he shifted in his seat, daring to look around at the customers, but none showed any sign of noticing anything other than themselves. “But this isn’t fair,” he spoke again softly, panting. “How so?” “Because I am um, I am receiving.” “Aren’t you supposed to be a selfish cold surface-level junior business asshole?” “Yes.” “Then this is what they do, they get foot jobs in diners, amongst other perks of course,” you laughed. “Shit, you’re right,” Tom barely squeaked out.

Just then the diner door opened, and you could see the dim faces of the guys he had been partying with. They finally found him. “Don’t look now but your Republican friends have arrived.” Tom’s flush became pale. “Should I stop?” You checked in again. “No.” His response was as clear as mid-day.

So, you increased your speed, you took a deep breath. You were so turned on at this point. You were positive there would be a wet spot on the cracked vinyl seat. You lifted your skirt up further. Tom noticed and peered beneath the table again. He saw your hand brush past your underwear and a finger curl inside the lace trim. You matched his erratic breathing to your motions as you fucked yourself intently. His eyes were glued to you, his fists almost punching into the flimsy placemats. You laughed to yourself about the chances of you both coming in public, surely, he wouldn’t, or you couldn’t.

You were about to mention that perhaps you should stop. When suddenly Tom let out a muffled cry. His breath hitched. You could feel moisture beneath the bottom of your toes as you brought your foot back to the tip of his generous cock once more. “Ah, I see,” you laughed. "Well looks like we are done here." There was no more time to discuss what just happened. The bros had spotted him and you and made their way to your back corner.

Tom closed his eyes in what looked like a silent prayer. He had just had one of the best orgasms of his life. The short blond one with cropped hair spoke up, “Hiddleston, where the fuck have you been, your agency was about to call the cops, which would have been lame.”

“Hiddleston,” you said his surname out loud. Realizing you never got his last name. Tom looked at you with both lust and remorse. Then turned back to the assholes. “You found me, good work,” he said assuredly. “Well we gotta go dick we have a strip club that closes at 3am and it’s in the contract that we take you there.”

Tom slowly got up and used one of his long fingers to expertly untuck that white button-down shirt to conceal the mess you had both made. He looked your way, the pale blue of his eyes returning.

You exchanged numbers for the pleasantry of it, as the assholes looked on impatiently, probably wondering why Tom was wasting his time on a girl who looked like Boudica, but that's just what assholes do you remembered. Although you really didn���t expect to hear from him again. To your surprise right before dawn, perhaps as he was leaving said strip club, a text came over your Blackberry.

“I hope you felt something, I know I did.” Shit.

You did feel something, a lot of things actually. Tom had brought something back to the solemnly plain bagel of your life. You quickly wrote back.

"Don't let the bros see you texting me Tom, you laughed knowing he was probably squinting and barely able to see your words. You picture all of them looking over his shoulder.

"They went home. Can I come over? I feel like we aren't done quite yet. My asshole-in-training self expires at sunrise and I turn back into the real me. Is that okay?" You blinked a few times just to make sure you saw that correctly. "So you're actually Cinderella," you laughed nervously.

You managed to type your address and push send before pulling your covers over your head and screaming quietly enough to not wake up your still-slumbering roommates. You then looked around your room in quiet delightful horror, you had about 30 minutes to hide all your dirty clothes from the past three months under your bed...

[asgards-princess-of-mischief]

Last Updated: 2024-01-30

A/N: Happy Holidays Everyone, I feel so blessed to be part of such an amazing community!

Disclaimer: I am not the author of these stories, just sharing my favourite Loki Odinson stories. Find the authors' links below. If you want your work removed, message me privately.

Legend: 〔E〕 ⇢ Erotic/Steamy | 〔F〕 ⇢ Fluff | 〔A〕 ⇢ Angst/Hurt 〔M〕 ⇢ Minor Angst/Hurt | 〔C〕 ⇢ Comfort | ♥︎ ⇢ Established Relationship | 𑁍 ⇢ Pregnancy/Children | 🚫 ⇢ Content Warning

❆ A Christmas Wish [President!Loki] by simplyholl • 18+ • 〔E〕 •

Summary: A drunken confession at a Christmas party leads to delightful consequences.

❆ A Walk in the Snow by lady-rose-moon • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •

Summary: Just as you thought your day couldn't get any better your husband suggests taking a walk in the snow with your daughter.

❆ Afterglow by sarahscribbles • 18+ • 〔F᜶E〕 •

Summary: Frigga's Yule Ball is the highlight of your social calendar, even if it does mean having to spend the night with your lifelong annoyance Loki. This year, though, he isn't quite so… annoying.

❆ All I Want for Christmas by sserpente • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 • ♥︎ •

Prompt(s): "Imagine Loki asking you what you wish for Christmas but there is nothing you want. Except him."

❆ All Wrapped Up by muddyorbsblr • 18+ • 〔F᜶M〕 •

Summary: After getting in hot water with Fury about his shenanigans that revolve around candy cane, you give Loki some advice on how to seduce someone if he really wants to go down the red and white striped road. Even if it hurt you to do so.

❆ Art of Decorating by fictive-sl0th • 18+ • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: Loki and you decorate this years huge Christmas tree in the tower's common room…

❆ Birthday Magic by holdmytesseract • 〔F᜶C〕 •

Summary: "Everybody around you tends to forget your birthday, because of all the Christmas trouble. Except Loki, of course..."

❆ Christmas Boyfriend by devilbat •

Prompt(s): "What are you doing with that mistletoe.... Oh"

❆ Christmas Delivery￨Prt. II by the--sad--hatter • 〔F᜶M〕 •

Summary: {…}

❆ Christmas Lights￨Prt II by sserpente • 〔F〕 •

Prompt(s): "Imagine Loki catching you when you fall off the ladder while hanging up holiday lights..."

❆ Cupid's Contract by lokiodinsonofasgard000 • 〔F᜶M〕 •

Summary: When speculation arises around your and Loki's relationship, it prompts a conversation about making things official.

❆ Dreaing of a Green Christmas￨Prt. II by joyful-enchantress • 〔F〕 •

Summary: {…}

❆ Expectations and Opportunities by muddyorbsblr • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "Loki has some questions about the tradition of kissing under the mistletoe."

❆ Flavours by mochie85 • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "You spend the night testing out new flavors with your god of mischief."

❆ Getting Through the Winter by anonymousfiction211 • 〔F᜶C〕 •

Summary: "Noticing something is amiss with you. With a little help from Natasha he makes it his mission to cheer you up, while battling with his own anxieties in the process."

❆ Invitation to Stay [Jotun!Loki] by fictive-sl0th • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Following the Jotunn prince royal's invitation to his Yule feast, you came with adoration for Loki who made sure his dear n would never leave again."

❆ It's Always Been You by sarahscribbles • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: Loki follows you from the Yule celebrations with one question on his mind.

❆ It's Christmas After All by smolvenger • 18+ • 〔F᜶C〕 •

Summary: "It seems you are spending Christmas alone... until Loki joins you."

❆ It's Not a Secret I Try to Hide by hopelessromanticspoonie • 〔F᜶M〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "You push and you push and you push. But the doors around Loki's heart won't budge, even as his arms open wide. Will it ever change?"

❆ Let It Snow by sserpente • 〔F〕 •

Prompt(s): "Imagine sneaking out in the middle of the night with Loki to play in the snow."

❆ Merry Mischief by coldnique • 〔F〕 •

Summary: {…}

❆ Mischief and Miracles by mochie85 • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: …

❆ Mischievous Miracle by spilledkauffie • 〔F〕 •

Summary: Used to stressful family Christmas, Loki offers you the opportunity to spend the holidays with him instead.

❆ Mistletoe Kiss by winterfrostlovetriangle • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "What will one kiss under the Mistletoe cause the God of Mischief to do? Will his girlfriend see past his tricks and accept his offer?"

❆ Mistletoe Kisses by sarahscribbles •

Summary: Snow, hot chocolate, and your God of Mischief.

❆ New Year's Kiss by sserpente • 〔F〕 •

Prompt(s): "Imagine kissing Loki on New Year's Eve."

❆ On the Naughty List by joyful-enchantress • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: {…}

❆ Peace by lokisgoodgirl • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "After an outing to the Christmas Tree Farm goes awry, Loki does a little soul searching in his."

❆ Perfect Present, the by coldnique • 〔F᜶M〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: {…} It's Christmas at the compound your and Loki's first chris

❆ Presidential Christmas Present [President!Loki] ⧫ by sserpente • 18+ • 〔E〕 •

Prompt(s): "Imagine working for President Loki and filming his annual Christmas speech. But then, knowing that he is about to give you the rest of the year off to celebrate Christmas, he gots the idea for an entirely different video to keep for the time you're gone.."

❆ Reliable Liar by curseofaphrodite • 〔F〕 •

Summary: Loki being a simp for Y/N.

❆ Silly Tradition by fanficshiddles • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "Loki thinks Christmas is ridiculous and a waste of time. Until you surprise him with a gift, then he finds that perhaps it's not all that bad after all."

❆ Sleigh Ride by lokisgoodgirl • 18+ • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: Loki organises a romantic, moonlit sleigh ride. But somehow, things still get pretty hot.

❆ Snow Day by writings-of-a-british-fangirl • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "Whilst enjoying a snow day in Asgard, you discover Loki's true parentage."

❆ Snowed In by winterfrostlovetriangle • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Prompt(s): "So, we're kind of snowed in."

❆ Traditional by asgardwinter • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Loki finds out some midgardian traditions that he had no idea about, and he likes it very much."

❆ Winter's Bride by sserpente • 18+ • 〔E᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •

Prompt(s): Imagine being forced to marry King Loki on Christmas Eve. His motives are purely tactical to ensure the alliance, trust and royalty of your people. You hate him and he hates you…

❆ A Cozy Christmas by holymultiplefandomsbatman • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ A Promise Sealed with Light by asgardwinter • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Are We Doing This Right? [Immortal!Reader] by asgardwinter • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Bested by jewels2876 • 〔F〕 •

❆ By the Light of the Fire by lokisgoodgirl • 18+ • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Celestial Love by sarahscribbles • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Christmas Cookie Disaster by devilbat • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Decorating by sserpente • 〔F〕 •

❆ Freezing by asgardwinter • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Happy Christmas by thranduilsperkybutt • 〔F〕 •

❆ Ice Skating by sserpente • 〔F〕 •

❆ Late Christmas by your-highnessmarvel • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Mistletoe by acciotherapists • 〔F〕 •

❆ Mistletoe and Mischief [President!Loki] by sserpente • 16+ • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Mistletoe Kisses by sleep-i-ness • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Winter in Jötunheim by sserpente • 〔F〕 •

❆ Wrapping Presents by wewritesoyoucanenjoy • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Decorating w/ Loki by thepilotanon • 〔F〕 •

❆ Kissing Loki Under the Mistletoe… by gaitwae • 〔F〕 •

See Also: Navigation || Loki Odinson Master Index

Authors: @acciotherapists || @anonymousfiction211 || @asgardwinter || @coldnique || @curseofaphrodite || @devilbat || @fanficshiddles || @fictive-sl0th || @gaitwae || @holdmytesseract || @holymultiplefandomsbatman || @hopelessromanticspoonie || @jewels2876 || @joyful-enchantress || @lady-rose-moon || @lokiodinsonofasgard000 || @lokisgoodgirl || @mochie85 || @muddyorbsblr || @the--sad--hatter || @sarahscribbles || @simplyholl || @sleep-i-ness || @smolvenger || @spilledkauffie || @sserpente || @thepilotanon || @thranduilsperkybutt || @wewritesoyoucanenjoy || @winterfrostlovetriangle || @writings-of-a-british-fangirl || @your-highnessmarvel ||

[liminalpebble]

🎄🕯An Unhinged Yuletide Gathering🕯🎄

My darlings! 💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️

It's time for a festive unhinged gathering! Arrive in your loveliest ball gowns and with your thottiest thots and feel free to share away! The more, the merrier! I'm thrilled to have every single one of you here. This time, I invite you all to a lavish Scandinavian manor house.

We can watch the snow and the northern lights from the lovely art nouveau observatory of the highest tower. Throughout the evening, the roaring hearths, lush decorations, and golden glow of luxurious interiors will keep us very content. There will be decedant warm beverages aplenty, a scrumptious dinner, and spread after spread of desserts.

The company is, of course, also a mouthwatering collection of our exquisite fictional men.

Jonathan Pine is in a brand new and very smart three piece suit, welcoming you with an incandescent smile as he guides you in. He smells deliciously of expensive cologne and the single festive red rose pinned to his lapel. Before he takes his leave, he holds your hand in both of his and makes some very intense eye contact, saying, "and Miss, if there's anything at all I can do for you, please don't hesitate to find me."

You barely catch your breath as you move further past polished oak doors into the large glimmering ballroom where Loki is lounging on a velvet couch, some elaborate mixed drink balanced in his lovely ivory hand. He charms us all with tale after tale as our cheeks get warm and we take turns feeding him teasing little bites of cake.

Thomas Sharpe stands brooding in his finest tuxedo, desperately waiting for his chance at a waltz with you as you look so lovely this evening.

Eddie...delicous, sweet, snarky Eddie Munson snuck in with the caterers. His big chocolate button eyes scan the crowd of lovely ladies, and he gives a big dimpled grin. With no regard at all for the job he signed up for, he shrugs off the uniform top, smooths out the Iron Maiden shirt beneath it, and swaggers over.

"Welllllll, hello lovely ladies!", he declares as he plops on the couch next to Loki, even daring to cross his legs over the god's lap and steal a sip of his drink. Loki stares at this bushy-haired miscreant with a leathal glare that cracks delightfully into a big euphoric grin. One trickster obviously appreciates the charisma of another.

Adam keeps to himself, playing the most beautiful piece of music on an antique lute. He feels a rare flicker of joy as he anticipates candlelit ghost stories on Christmas night (a sweet revival of a Victorian tradition). The faintest twitch of a smile moves his lips as he thinks of all this...delcious...company he'll have the pleasure of experiencing it with.

Hux sits alone, reading in a quiet parlor. The general's lovely hands stroke his beloved ginger cat, Millicent, as he plays out chess games within his powerful mind. His lovely green eyes flick towards you as he hears your footsteps, and he smiles wickedly. You're the only distraction he allows here, afterall...and what an enjoyable one you are.

Thank you for joining the party, my loves. Who else do you see? What does the evening have in store for us? Have you brought something interesting? Oh, do tell. *wink*

Welcome and happy holidays! 💃 🎄

Peb 💜

@acidcasualties @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @holdmytesseract @infinitystoner @smolvenger @tripleyeeet @take-everything-you-can @leelei1980 @unlucky-number-13 @unfocused81 @sweetsigyn @veemoon @loz-3 @little-wormwood @littlespaceyelf @glitchquake @viv-annelore @peachyjinx @peaches1958 @gigglingtiggerv2 @marcotheflychair @mochie85 @muddyorbs @sailorholly @holymultiplefandomsbatman @thedistractedagglomeration @hellfirenacht @thenerdyoldersister @alexakeyloveloki @lemongingerart @eddiethehunted @fanfic-collection @girl-next-door-writes @fictive-sl0th @mischiefmaker615 @icytrickster17 @ladyofthestayingpower @goblingirlsarah @chokeanddagger @loopsisloops @slutty-thevampireslayer @coldnique @eddies-house @fairyysoup @jennyggggrrr @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @elegantkoalapaper

[mochie85]

Hi, Barbie!

"Barbie Collection" 2023.July Digital, Procreate Stickers and more are available now on my RedBubble.

Art Work Masterlist | Complete Masterlist

🏷️ tagging ppl who may be interested....

@michelleleewise @shadeysprings @loopsisloops @coldnique @ladyofthestayingpower @irishhappiness @wheredafandomat @joyful-enchantress @sarahscribbles @liminalpebble @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @holdmytesseract @chantsdemarins @lokiandbuckysdoll @xorpsbane @sailorholly @immersed-in-mischief @fictive-sl0th @give-me-a-moose @mischief2sarawr

[mochie85]

Mayari

"Mayari" 2023.07.30 Digital Procreate

Artwork Masterlist | Complete Masterlist

[mochie85]

Not my normal content...but I thought I would share!

💝Just in time for Valentine's Day. My shop along with the entire site! 💖

[mochie85]

One Afternoon

2023.11.17 A look back one last time before she says goodbye forever. Digital - Procreate

I'm still learning color. Shading x highlights.

Art Work Masterlist | Complete Masterlist

[chantsdemarins]

The Pitfalls of Obligatory Haptics 🌙A High Moon Story

An 18+ series because of adult themes and sexual situations

Okay, I had to get this weird story out of my system! Anyone who is readying High Moon, BLESS YOUR HEARTS! I know it's totally a complicated premise, so please talk to me if you have questions!

Also if interested there are two other previous chapters! See Below! ⬇️

I have more stories coming which are less serious if that is your thing. Stay tuned, but If you like serious, slightly smutty sci-fi, this is for you!

New Chapters ⬇️

Bot Dreaming You are a kind projection bot of the scientist who created the AI technology that allowed Loki to live on as an augmented being after Thanos ended his life. You have sex with Loki and bake him pastries neither of you can eat. You also introduce him to the digital version of Ketamine (a whisper chant) that creates new quantum pathways for Loki. It's not Valhalla, but it might heal the parts of him he didn't even know were broken.

Fresh Snow on Sled Tracks The "whisper chant" lands Loki in a time and place on Midgard during the early medieval period in Alba (Scotland).

Lady Ragnarök The love affair Loki forgot changes his life forever.

+As always, please comment and reblog if you feel inspired!! I love to hear from readers!+

Some of these folks might be interested? @mischief2sarawr @lokisgoodgirl @michelleleewise @lovelysizzlingbluebird @holdmytesseract @mochie85 @fictive-sl0th @lokischambermaid @goblingirlsarah @vickie5446 @peaches1958 @lokixryss @eleniblue @simplyholl @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @jennyggggrrr

[chantsdemarins]

Special Edition Chapter:

Where does Heartbreak get Stored if Not in your Quantum Drive? (Loki X Reader)

🌙A High Moon Story

(Don’t forget to enjoy the new art included as a bonus!)

Okay, so this is entirely out of order, but the sentiment felt suitable for Valentine's Day. High Moon chapters will be back soon and in logical progression!

Although I hope this gives you an idea of where the plot will go. Thank you so much for hanging in here with me! This is lovingly inspired by and created for @muddyorbsblr and their 14 days Valentine’s Day collection!

(This is mostly tame, with a little angsty heat 🔥)

Maybe these folks might reading? @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @goblingirlsarah @vickie5446 @peaches1958 @lokixryss @eleniblue @simplyholll @sarahscribblesles @sarawr-reads @jennyggggrr @ijuststareatstuffhereok89eok89 @mischief2sarawr @fictive-sl0th @thomase1 @inthesofa @huntress-artemisss @michelleleewise @gigglingtigger @kikster606 @xorpsbane @skymoonandstardust @coldnique @mochie85

+Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged if I’ve forgotten you (my ADHD is for shit with tags!!)

“And how should we behave during this Apocalypse? We should be unusually kind to one another, certainly. But we should also stop being so serious. Jokes help a lot. And get a dog if you don’t already have one.”

-Kurt Vonnegut-The Idea Killers, 1984

Former: Big Sur, California Current: Sechanaha

He had found you. Maybe not you exactly, but the replicant living out your life’s work in a pocket of time he finally found the correct coordinates to. If you didn’t have the answers, then Loki couldn’t imagine anyone else would.

You were the reason after all he was suspended in this quantum emotion enabled semi-alive-semi-dead-memory of his former majestic, fantastic superiorly intelligent true-ruler-of-the-nine realms self. You could end his misery, you could “pull the plug” or perhaps, it was more like “send the file” (old human terms from the era the AI technology was invented). You could help him finally reach Valhalla. While Thor and Odin were never his favorites (or so his quantum memory told him) with all he was, he knew he belonged there with them.

As Loki walked closer to your home, his CPU field read through the history of “El Grande Sur” which became “Big Sur”. At some point, the Esalen bots changed it back to the name it had 1,000’s of years before the many shades of “white visitors” with their re-naming ways got ahold of it- “Sechanaha” would be its last and final name. He pondered the way a land was taken over by humans and renamed, owned and seemingly a new course set in motion. It felt much like what had happened to him.

Maybe this was some algorithm of the universe. Some inevitably. Conquer with superior technology, rename (or in Loki’s case, keep his name, memories and emotions but force him to live forever without the people he assumes he once loved) and then make amends. Loki assumed apologies were also part of the algorithm. He expected you to give him a lengthy, extravagant apology.

He would use his newly activated post-AI seiðr to conjure a dagger, point it precisely at your replicant heart processing unit and wait patiently until you said you were sorry and meant it.

Although in all his confidence of his mission he knew he looked beleaguered. The curves of the California coastline had worn his Asgardian leather boots to the quick. His hair was a mess. He hated the fact that even as an AI he cared about what people thought of him. Truly why did he care if you thought he looked terrible? You were the reason he was so miserable. The ridiculousness of his CPU and the delicate sensibilities of his quantum processor were laughable if it wasn’t him going through this crap every day.

Nevertheless-he tried to straighten up his royal prince-without-a-kingdom finery, and be prepared just in case your model had a fight mode programmed somewhere in you (although extremely unlikely you did-as replicant models tend to align with the source material and as far as Loki could tell when reading about you, you had trouble with even killing flies, you had shooed them out the windows of your life).

When Loki arrived at your cedar planked cliff side house, he was seized with the inability to knock or just open the damn door. If he was capable of being nervous maybe, he was. You got so few visitors these days, you lived and worked in a perpetual quiet. Although your quantum dog species approximation field unit companion heard him coming and lit up with his usual alert incandescence.

You were in the middle of taking a long-deserved break from your latest invention and since the lab and your home was so far from the company headquarters in Seoul, you could at times take a load off. Of course, your source human had already created the invention you were re-creating in your coastal lab, but in this time pocket, as a replicant you methodically repeated the past with sincerity and every aberration-every iterative that occurred was recorded-if the past could indeed be changed, the labs in the other time pockets were interested to know.

You had just put a pie in the antique oven your home was equipped with. Although you never ate the things you baked, since you were not a human, you had no way to consume material matter, but you liked to imagine the human you once were eating pie and such things as pan du chocolate, whatever that could be. The memory fields you had access to recorded great joy associated with that particular pastry. You sighed to yourself when you realized someone was at your door. There was no way to recall if anyone had come to your door this century, so you were unsure what to do next. Your quantum dog field unit materialized alongside you as you approached the door, a small comfort.His lick and his bark contained molecular level particles that could adhere to any surface and launch 5th generation nano tech into the matter that was a threat. You glanced down at your dog unit, hoping he understood what to do. The lab in Seoul surely wouldn’t come by unannounced.

You continued to imagine who this possibly could be.

One more knock and the door flung open leaving Loki’s hand motioning mid-air barely missing your face. Quantum unit bristled and lunged forward, you had just enough time to perform the Ba Duan Jin and cease the unit’s actions, luckily it worked, and he stopped short of licking Loki’s other hand. Your face grimaced at the thought had he been successful.

“That’s one way to say hello I guess,” you said finally, staring at the tall stranger in tight head to toe leather.

Loki shifted in his dilapidated boots.

“If you don’t mind sending off your friend there, I’ve come to see Y/N, are you her?”

You shifted in your house slippers, unsure how to answer the ominous looking man.

“Who is asking, I am sure you recognize we don’t get many guests around here.”

Loki took a moment to look around, his surroundings were beyond remote. Where there was once a highway as they were called-it was now a coastal river flowing alongside the crashing Pacific Ocean. There were other houses, but they looked kilometers away and hidden underneath the treelined ridges of cedar. The whole area seemed long abandoned. It was hard to believe the area was Midgard’s premiere Artificial Intelligence lab, but it was-or at least he hoped it still was.

“I don’t imagine you do,” he finally said.

“I’m Loki of Asgard. Or at least I was.”

You looked at him intently, his name rumbling just under your breath. Loki of Asgard.

“Name doesn’t ring a bell. Should I know you?”

Loki looked slightly disappointed, but then found his footing. He was ready to conjure his blades and start the process of his forced apology protocol that he’d been imagining since he finally found you in this pocket universe, but you had that quantum field unit dog approximation, and Loki knew just how dangerous their bark or lick could be.

He’d seen a vista vision replicant melt down instantly back on the Sakaar pocket universe, it was disgusting. The bots charged with cleaning it up were covered in the gelatinous goo and their poor quantum motors exploded. Brief puffs of smoke clouded the main room where Loki witnessed the dreadful event, all beings present that day couldn’t stop coughing for hours. He wasn’t about to do anything that would risk him becoming a sentient gelatinous ball of goo stored on some middle-aged Midgardian scientists’ shelf for eternity. No thank you.

So, he chose his words carefully and plotted his next actions with keen resolve. His charm mode was still active even though he’d had little use for it over the last how many centuries. Living amongst non-emotional entities, he’d had little use for any of his old Norse god programming. Charms, charisma-even his good looks were of little consequence most of the time.

All the beings seemed blind without their emotions. It was a milquetoast world of binary interactions, except for the occasional display of randomness where he might get to use some of his exquisite vocabulary on a service bot and they might just say something cheeky back, but it was usually in reference to crossword puzzles.

You seemed close enough to a service bot in Loki’s approximation, so perhaps some higher range vocabulary repartee would warrant a peaceful invite inside your seemingly cozy abode.

You stood unmoving even if you’d dispatched quantum dog unit to the couch, you weren’t convinced this Loki was friendly.

“My dear, I smell something delicious coming from your kitchen!”

You looked behind you quickly before replying.

“Yes, I just put a pie in the oven.”

“Oh pie!” Loki’s smile was so big he was slightly afraid his proxy coating might snap. He continued.

“You know pie is a deceptively simple dessert, I know it seems quotidian, but the true baker knows that a real pie is a work of art, and the baker should be lauded as both pastry debonair and artist. I am myself a pie auteur and artist. I love watching people bake and I excel at baking myself. If you’d give me a chance, I’m sure we could have a great afternoon baking an assortment of pies!”

You let him prattle on but the more he talked the closer your hand moved to slamming the door in his face. You didn’t know the concept ‘fishy’ but somehow that word appeared in your programming stream.

He might have noticed how the door moved a few centimeters as you rearranged your hand just in case you needed to levy your motion in a fast swoop. His speech programming began to speed up.

“I appreciate making all kinds of pies-savory, sweet-unique varieties like bacon and maple.”

“Bacon?” you said, quizzically.

Loki might have been caught. He’d pulled that word out of his quantum CPU ass so to speak, he had no clue what bacon was. He paused for a moment and tried to go on.

“Oh yes, if you don’t know what that ingredient is, please don’t feel affronted, not everyone knows it, but if you know, you know-as they say.”

“Who is ‘they’?” you pondered out loud. What the hell was he talking about? You had to say something, this man had about 30 seconds left before you rallied your quantum approximation off the couch.

You leaned in a little closer before continuing to speak.

“Let me get this straight, you came all the way out to this pocket universe and just on the off chance I was baking a pie, something you happen to be an expert in baking and eating?”

Loki looked around a little bit, another enormous smile formed on his face, and he continued his pie rhetoric.

“Absolutely, yes, that is exactly why I am here to see you today! Isn’t it marvelous?”

That was it. You didn’t call the approximation off the couch, but you flung the heavy cedar door closed so fast Loki’s nose was almost clipped. You should have gone back to the kitchen, checked on the damn pie or made your way back to the lab to clear your mind of the stranger but you couldn’t. You stood frozen on the other side of the door staring at it. Impressive wood grain, you’d never taken the time to look before.

Loki was also similarly frozen.

It seems that in this pocket universe there were rules of communication he just didn’t understand. But it was you. He knew it, and he had to talk to you. You had created him, and you could destroy him. Another smile threatened to break his proxy skin, he thought to himself, she makes replicant augmented beings and pie. Wow.

He was impressed at your skill set, and a little star struck if he were able to be honest at all. He expected himself to be mad. He expected to immediately rush into his forced apology protocol with you, but he couldn’t.

After what felt like hours outside the door, his sensors detected a richer approximation of apple pie wafting out of the cracks in the old house. If he had a stomach, it would be growling. He decided to speak again, just to see if you might still be on the other side of the door.

“Are you still there by chance?” his words were decidedly softer.

You didn’t know what to say. Maybe? You steeled yourself and went through nearly all the programming you could, until you decided to go off script, you could-it was an ancient program, but you could enable it. You shifted again, and you could feel a surge of confidence running through your CPU clouds. You took a chance.

“I am. What do you really want? It can’t be to sample my baking.”

“Well, if you let me in, I would be delighted to sample some of your handy work, but yes, what you suspect is true, I have other business.”

Loki looked at his large hands, he was fiddling with them. He had been so angry for so long. He’d been prepared to unleash it all on you, but now he just couldn’t. His impulse ions were directing him to sit down in your kitchen and let you feed him and make him some tea.

The memory of eating, the memory of tea pulsed through his quantum RAM clouds, he felt lightheaded, if that was possible. He’d never experienced that feeling ‘lightheaded’ but he knew it conceptually. He could hear bird proxy’s singing-and the ocean breeze was dancing against his face. Then everything went blank. It was the most pleasant feeling.

You heard the thump. It sounded like one of the rocks from the ridge came tumbling down and hit your front door. You jumped back and then panicked. If that was an impulse, you could replicate. Before any more programming could inhibit you, your hands opened the door and Loki’s body slumped onto your slippered feet.

“Oh no,” your voice was shaky as you immediately grabbed him by the collar of his leather jacket and pulled him inside your house.

“That’s one way to get inside I guess,” you said out loud as you dragged him into the living room.

The approximation field unit dog jumped off the couch and used his canine Ba Duan Jin to assist you. You raced into the kitchen with no idea how you would revive him. You weren’t even sure what he was. A fear came through you that he might be human. Or some other replicant model that was not in use anymore. Something was out of place, and it wasn’t you.

You were right where you should be, in your lab, completing your augmented being protocol in this pocket universe, checking for time aberrations that the lab in Seoul was recording.

You were a not the human who created the augmented being protocol, you were her approximation. This man was likely that too. You kneeled next to him and fought the urge to push the stray strands of black hair from his handsome face. He was handsome, some part of your programming understood that even if was a very odd concept and one you had no idea at all what to do with.

When Loki woke up, he all but swore he’d finally made it to his beloved Valhalla. Who knew there was pie in Valhalla. His sensors were firing double time with a memory laden onslaught that was now engulfing him.

His vision field was blurred and when he saw you, he could see your golden wings, you were the Valkyrie that took him home. He felt you beside him and he wondered if you’d also go to bed with him-even though you had no idea what that was, the vision of himself naked without his leather finery and you naked in just your golden wings burned through his CPU at rapid speed. He spoke finally with gravel in his voice.

“Valkyrie thank you for finally bringing me home, would you allow me to kiss you as a show of my gratitude?”

The words rattled from his mouth, but they were drifting and soft, their tone had an unusual register that you could not discern.

“Valkyrie,” you said out loud to yourself or maybe to the approximation field unit who was eagerly at your side.

“Kiss? What?” words stumbled from your mouth this time purposely at the slowly waking Loki.

What was this being talking about. It couldn’t be possible.

He couldn’t be a Norse god, but you knew exactly who they Valkyrie were, even if it was arcane to know so. You had the entire history of Midgard religions stored in your CPU, like all beings on the planet in this era.

Even though it was the responsibility of other historian bots to keep this wisdom and use it for the new rituals, you at least knew of it, and you knew of Valkyries and Valhalla, yet it was a concept so foreign to process, your own timeline felt dented by it.

You placed your hand on his shoulder and tried to rouse him further. You knew what kissing was too, but you couldn’t process it further, even though you were programmed with less fear than your human approximation had, something still flashed through you that threatened to shut your CPU down as well. You had to keep alert. You had to focus.

“Loki,” you said, in an equally quiet voice, you wanted to speak plainly to him. He deserved that much, he must have come from quite a distance to reach you.

“Sorry to say, I’m no Valkyrie.”

“I’m a replicant bot here mirroring the invention of augmented being technology, something that happened so long ago no one truly cares about it except the history bots and the ritual bots. I don’t even know if there is even a lab monitoring anything anymore.”

You hoped there was, you’d hate to think all your work was for nothing, but so many centuries on your own would lead one to make some assumptions. Loki’s eyes slowly opened. He must have heard you.

“Loki are you…on….?” You spoke.

Was that the right word? You didn’t know if gods could turn on or off, or if they just had a perpetual energy source like the Midgard sun to keep them running in a timeless swirl. Loki was indeed ‘on’-but he also didn’t want to give anything away. He’d made it inside apparently. He realized he wasn’t in Valhalla-he was on a couch. A rather uncomfortable one at that.

“I see,” he whispered.

Loki remembered his ‘dream’ he was having, he remembered the idea of kissing, the idea of being in your bed, with you. A flush coursed through him and his eyes opened widely. He turned his head and placed his hands down across where his pleasure unit had been installed, at the middle of his body. Something sure had woken up along with him! In all his years as an augmented being it had been few and far between that he used his pleasure unit, all the bots in his pocket universe just liked to drink fizzy fixer drinks and talk about the politics of the day, but somewhere in the deepest parts of his programming he remembered something about his former self.

He remembered passion, he remembered bedding women and men, he remembered them crying in pleasure as he put what he once called his ‘cock’ inside them. He knew there were rituals he’d participated in on Midgard, he’d even loved-or he thought possibly he had. A torrent of knowing descended upon him but he still maintained his cool, while his pleasure unit simmered down. Although if he didn’t stop thinking about the so called past, his pleasure unit would never recalibrate back into idle mode. He looked at you carefully. You were stunned once again. You’d been struggling with the idea of a god laying on your couch, but a god with a pleasure unit was something you simply could not make sense of.

Loki looked down at his hands, still covering his ‘cock’, and he flushed again, or something like that at least.

“Oh dear, I am truly sorry. I must have been dreaming,” words rolled from his lips while you still sat staring.

“You dream?” you said, attempting to make the conversation about some of the other truly anomalous things happening all at once.

“Dreams were the domain of the human, we don’t really…I mean…I don’t…but what are you Loki?”

“I do dream Y/N,” he said, sitting up unceremoniously.

“You do?”

You were feeling weak. Something in your program felt like you should eat, even though replicant bots did not eat. It was like an ancient file had burst open and a million synaptic waves were flooding your usual programming. You turned to Loki and found more words.

“We should eat, let me cut us some of the pie, it’s cold by now but it’s probably still good.”

You dashed into the kitchen and pried the pie pan from the oven rack, you dipped your finger sensor into the middle, sure enough it was icy, but no matter. You hastily opened the cabinets searching for something you knew was a plate, something you put pie on, for all the pies you’d baked why in the world did you have no plates?

Worse you opened the drawers and found you had no forks either. Surely the human you used to be left something, you opened every drawer and every cabinet, dust flying in all directions. You stood on the old, cracked foot stool and ran your hands across the top cabinet shelf distributing more dust into the atmosphere, when you felt it. A ting against your sensors, you wrapped your fingers around it, and sure enough there was something there.

“Got something!” you nervously called back to Loki who was still sitting in a little daze himself.

Looking at the pairs of wooden sticks in your hand, you couldn’t be sure, but maybe they were used for food? You held them up to Loki, waving them in the air.

“Look familiar to you at all?”

He squinted his blue eyes and looked closer.

“Ah, those are chopsticks and yes you do use those for food consumption,” Loki said expertly.

“Oh wonderful, phew,” you said with more energy pulsing through the vines of circuits under your proxy skin.

You sat down next to Loki on the couch-pie and chopsticks in your right hand, scooting aside the approximation field unit dog with your left-causing a small approximation yip from him.

“Oh, this looks absolutely delicious, thank you so much Y/N, I feel unworthy for you to share your baking with me, I just descended upon you like this unannounced,” Loki sheepishly laughed.

Lucky (or unlucky) for you both, there were two sets of chopsticks. You took yours out of the wrapper and so did Loki, seemingly following your lead.

The approximation dog was on the port side the couch, you, the pie, and Loki making up the starboard. It was a humorous conglomeration of entities, huddled together.

“Guests first,” you said pushing the pie pan towards Loki.

Loki smiled and deftly wielded one of the chopsticks into the center of the pan in a slaying fashion, much like he had practiced doing to you with one of his blades when he enacted his forced apology protocol.

“Ah, there we go,” Loki said looking proudly at you.

Having no real idea what to do, if he was right or wrong-you simply followed suit, you took one of your chopsticks and duplicated his firm stroke placing your chopstick full hilt into the pie alongside his.

“Lovely! Seems we did it, don’t you think?” Loki looked confidently in your direction.

You were deep in your programming for a while before you spoke again.

“Loki, you don’t eat, do you?”

Loki looked down at his boots and up again at you.

“No. You don’t either do you?”

“No,” you said in an echo of his sentiment.

There was something sad, or what your programming was telling you was sad. Loki looked sad. He was slow to speak next.

“I remember the god I was used to eat though-I remember loving food. I remember loving lots of things.”

Loki’s programming temporally drifted once again to kissing, to bedding women. He looked at you and thought if he couldn’t eat anymore, he could try kissing. He could still do that he thought.

He hadn’t expected any of this programming. He’d come to ask you to turn him off permanently, but now all he wanted to do was kiss you. Loki hadn’t even had the chance to ask you for your help. Explain Valhalla to you. He felt the darkness springing through his CPU, he was likely shorting out again, or near to it. He tried to steady himself, clear his programming to silence mode, but it didn’t work.

You noticed how unsteady he looked, and you placed your hands on him, which in turn only seemed to make him grow more unsteady. Perhaps he was dying finally. Perhaps this was what the norns had designed in their infinite timeless wisdom. He was going to get to Valhalla after all if this replicant being would just kiss him, or maybe he should kiss you? He couldn’t remember how kisses worked and it frustrated him to no end.

“I want to kiss you,” Loki finally just came out with it.

“WHAT,” you countered.

“Do you know what a kiss is?”

He sounded ridiculous by any standard in any universe pocket or otherwise, his former god self was in disgust at the vulnerable desperation his CPU quantum drive was producing. You did know what kissing was, you thought. You closed your eyes and remained in quiet mode.

Loki focused himself, feeling the drift of blankness near-he acted quickly by taking your head in his hands and placing his lips on yours in one swift motion much like he did with the chopstick in the pie. Your eyes instinctually remained closed, and you felt your programming do something extraordinary. You kissed him back. Deeply, passionately, awkwardly, and full of memory of your former human life. It was like the act of kissing unlocked more of your human’s life and more of the secrets of humanity in general. Kissing was a prelude, an invitation. It was used when you ran out of words. You pulled away from Loki and opened your eyes but his eyes remained closed.

What in the world was next?

[loopsisloops]

all my friends are super talented!

Hi, Barbie!

"Barbie Collection" 2023.July Digital, Procreate Stickers and more are available now on my RedBubble.

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🏷️ tagging ppl who may be interested....

@michelleleewise @shadeysprings @loopsisloops @coldnique @ladyofthestayingpower @irishhappiness @wheredafandomat @joyful-enchantress @sarahscribbles @liminalpebble @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @holdmytesseract @chantsdemarins @lokiandbuckysdoll @xorpsbane @sailorholly @immersed-in-mischief @fictive-sl0th @give-me-a-moose @mischief2sarawr

[holdmytesseract]

I only got the tag for this now. 🥺

But omg, this is SO cool @mochie85 ! 🥰

Hi, Barbie!

"Barbie Collection" 2023.July Digital, Procreate Stickers and more are available now on my RedBubble.

Art Work Masterlist | Complete Masterlist

🏷️ tagging ppl who may be interested....

@michelleleewise @shadeysprings @loopsisloops @coldnique @ladyofthestayingpower @irishhappiness @wheredafandomat @joyful-enchantress @sarahscribbles @liminalpebble @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @holdmytesseract @chantsdemarins @lokiandbuckysdoll @xorpsbane @sailorholly @immersed-in-mischief @fictive-sl0th @give-me-a-moose @mischief2sarawr

[holdmytesseract]

That's so beautiful @mochie85 ! 😱🥰

Mayari

"Mayari" 2023.07.30 Digital Procreate

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[muddyorbsblr]

omg i love this! she looks so beautiful & badass 💖💛

Mayari

"Mayari" 2023.07.30 Digital Procreate

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[mochie85]

awe thank you love! You make me shy. I'm still practicing. My shading is off. It makes me happy you found this tho! 😘

One Afternoon

2023.11.17 A look back one last time before she says goodbye forever. Digital - Procreate

I'm still learning color. Shading x highlights.

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