#Sylki fanfiction
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Sylki Fic Recs - August 2023
So, I finally decided to go through the Sylki tag on AO3 and pull out some of my personal favorite Sylki fics! I may have missed a few, but from now on, when people ask me for fic recs, I'm just going to point them right here!
These are pretty much in descending word count order, since that's how I sorted them on AO3. And I think I stopped around 2k words, so things that are less than that don't appear.
(Fair warning: I included some of my own on there, too.)
Enjoy!
Epic Length fics (+100k) – Rated G-T
As Long As You're Mine by Shoalsandsuch*
Welcome to Westview by KaleidoscopeEyez
Heal The Cracks Within My Heart by Chipper99*
Gone, I'm Gone by Shoalsandsuch
Epic Length Fics – Rated M-E
Love & Mischief by Sasquita
The (Mis)Match by Sasquita
skin on skin by Palmarion
Becoming who I was never meant to be (But did anyway) by overIndulgence
A Promise of Peace by neonheartbeat
From Jotunheim With Love by kytsos, Wonderchild90*
Medium Length Multichapters (Up to 100k) – Rated G-T
Baton Pass! (Round 4) - Collab
Of Love and Daggers by litladyloveshp*
Sweet Nothings by Shoalsandsuch
Frost Queen - Collab
Pets are a reflection of the soul by overIndulgence
The Search: A Domestic Adventure by IngridGradient
Life is beautiful by Korsarri, Madam_Violet
Love Child by KaleidoscopeEyez
The Race To Your Heart by navy_bushes
Sylki Advent Calendar (Baton Pass! Round 3) - Collab
Fire & Gasoline by BeanBarn*
The Lost Goddess by KaleidoscopeEyez
Vivaldi Doesn't Square Dance by LunarDust, preserumping
Somewhere Only We Know by KaleidoscopeEyez
Sylvie and The Beast - Collab
To Make a Heart Whole by Adrift_in_thyme, Aritou
Rotational Symmetry by Neolights, PinkCanary
Delicate by Shoalsandsuch
Loki Actually by Padawan_Writer
Adventures in Lokisitting by KaleidoscopeEyez*
Our Shared Eternity - Collab
Medium Length Multichapters (Up to 100k) – Rated M-E
How Sweet It Is by Wonderchild90
Frost and Flame by professnerdiness
Into the half light (and through the flame) by BrightBlackTrees
RE: ARRANGEMENT by neonheartbeat
Wherever You Are by Aevianya
We'll Find A Way by professnerdiness
By the Glow of the Rune by IngridGradient
The Providence We Create by amadness2method (CynSyn), overIndulgence
Perfect Partners by variant001*
Roots and Branches by PinkCanary
Like the Moon Needs Poetry by IngridGradient
Wings - Collab
Not as planned by StrangeNoise*
Seconds from destiny by PicassoPickle
An Heir And A Spare (The Extended Version) by nostalgia
Foundations by BumbleHumbleBee
The Edge of Disaster by PinkCanary
and when you start to feel the rush (a crimson headache, aching blush) by Palmarion
No Prisoners by preserumping
the right kind of madness by Palmarion
Technicolor Dreams by kytsos, Wonderchild90
We're Screwed by kimikokun
Sylki in Suburbia by The_Hourglass_Muse
The strangest power of all by StrangeNoise
Letters to my Beloved by AndySkull
drunk on you by Palmarion*
Concept Art by IngridGradient
The Learning Curve by kytsos*
To Be Felled by You by D_A_Cullum
Torn in Two by UnderwaterArch*
A Marriage Between Realms by professnerdiness
Back to Lamentis by TTerran*
Candy Crush by kytsos, Wonderchild90
i guess that's love (i can't pretend) by Palmarion
The Perfect Lie by Padawan_Writer
The Isle of Mists by preserumping
When I'm around you by AndySkull
One-Shots – Rated G-T
Bright Purpose by daggerlovie
second nature by neonheartbeat
Cravings by KaleidoscopeEyez
Fire in the Sky by KaleidoscopeEyez
Bleeding Hearts by Eithniel, KaleidoscopeEyez
Eyes by daggerlovie
The Loki Trap by KaleidoscopeEyez
10,000 Unhappy Meals by UnderwaterArch
all in the golden afternoon by Palmarion
Lamentis-1, 2077: A Return by KaleidoscopeEyez
Time Keeps on Slippin' (Into the Future) by KaleidoscopeEyez
One-Shots – Rated M-E
Insatiable by catalystcomet
slow (how you wanted it to be) by PinkCanary
the word of your body by Palmarion
Crammed by catalystcomet
but you never go away (so I guess I gotta stay) by PinkCanary
The Prince, the Princess, and the Dozen Cupcakes by KaleidoscopeEyez
* Denotes an unfinished/ongoing fic
#sylki#loki x sylvie#sylki fanfiction#sylki fanfic#sylvie x loki#sylvie#lovie#sylvie laufeydottir#lovedaggers#fic recs#sylki fic#loki fanfic#loki series
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Finally writing my adorable Sylki comfort/angst WIP (Sylvie is going through a hard time, but Loki will always be there to support her)
#loki fanfic#loki fanfics#sylki#sylki fanfics#sylki fanfiction#loki (2023)#not got to the main part yet and im waffling yet again lol#wholesome fanfics#hurt/comfort#angst#loki laufeyson#loki odinson#sylvie laufeydottir
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Hey, guys! I’ve returned with a new fic I’ve been putting off for months. I actually made the edit first and wanted a fic to accompany the vibe.I hope you guys like it. I was actually surprised to see all the love it’s gotten so far. So thanks to my buddies who already commented and left a kudos. It means so much to me! ☺️
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*well technically chapter 1 since i used the first chapter as an introduction*
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Undusting some fics from not so long ago:
When I'm around you: Modern AU.
Sylvie is a Punk, Loki does Ballet. A chance encounter in the subway will lead them down a path of disastrous dates and perhaps an impossible or at least improbable love. 40K words, completed.
Cuando estoy cerca tuyo (Disponible también en español)
I love how the moodborad I did back in June kinda fits with Sylvie's punk attitude canonized.
The Heirs of Jotunheim: (Twincest AU, Rated-E)
The peace between Asgard and Jotunheim depends on King Laufey's children, Loki and Sylvie. Can they handle the responsibility against their own wishes and desires? A story of romance, drama, and turmoil between two beings of mischief and chaos. 150k words, completed.
#sylki#sylki fic#Sylki fanfiction#Does this mean I'm writing again?#Yes I am#Does this mean I'll post?#No I won't#I'm writing for myself as they say#I had these fics down for a while#I noticed some pleople were reading them so I got them back up#I completely lost the confidence to post anythig#writers problems
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A Kiss At Midnight In Time
Characters/Relationship: Loki/Sylvie
Rating: Teen. Word Count: 1300. Tags: Romance, Reuniting, Waltz, New Year’s Eve
Summary: (Post Loki S1): Loki finds Sylvie at a masquerade ball New Year’s Eve 1977. What else would he do but ask for a dance?
—
Loki held a flute of champagne and looked around the room. The TVA had tracked Sylvie using her temporal signature or whatever nonsense to that night, New Year’s Eve 1977, on Earth in London. Loki dressed in a tuxedo, complete with ruffled white shirt and black bow tie, and headed out with Mobius at his side. It had taken convincing and some magical memory sharing, but Mobius was his friend again. He was across the room, looking as well.
It was a masquerade ball - tuxedos, evening gowns, masks. Loki had chosen a mask of such a dark green it was almost black, plus it had a bit of a shimmer and a golden snake looped around the eyes. The ballroom was in an old building with high ceilings, chandeliers, and decorative moldings on the walls. It was outfitted with paper streamers and balloons in gold and black and one wall of the room had glass doors to a large balcony that overlooked the city.
Sylvie had to be somewhere. Loki’s eyes searched the room. There, there.
Loki’s breath caught. He didn’t take his eyes off a blonde woman with a simple black mask, but she was wearing a crown of gold horns - one was broken. To the room they’d seem part of the mask, but Loki knew better.
Sylvie was wearing a gown of rich emerald green sequins with a slit up the right side. She moved some and Loki saw her bare leg. Oh. Her arms were also uncovered and there was so much skin that he hadn’t seen before. He wished to touch her everywhere. Oh yes. His grip on the champagne flute tightened.
It also revealed her wearing black combat boots and that made Loki smile. She liked to be comfortable, so of course she refused heels.
Loki made his way across the room, weaving and darting through the crowd of people and high cocktail tables on the side of the dance floor. He had so many questions. Was she okay? Did she mean to send him where he ended up or was the destination an accident because the timelines already fractured? What was she doing in 1977? Would she join him and Mobius in preparing for the variants of He Who Remains? Did he mean anything to her? Did the kiss mean anything? Could they kiss again? Could they kiss everyday? Without tears? Could they have a cuddle and watch a sunset? Could she put her hands on his shoulders again as he held her waist? Loki could wait for clothes to come off, he wanted to get it right. He could move slow. He wanted it to be real.
All of the questions were on the tip of his tongue, but once he was in front of her and her shocked eyes met his and the orchestra began a waltz, The Blue Danube by Johann Strauss II, different words came out.
“Would you care to dance, my lady?”
Sylvie’s eyebrows furrowed and her nose wrinkled. Loki’s heart sped up. It was a moment before she said, “Let’s have at it then.”
The champagne flute in her hand vanished at the same time as his - Sylvie’s magic. Loki held out his hand and bowed as he would at a court function in Asgard. She had an amused smirk and grabbed it.
He had to get this right. He led her onto the dance floor as the waltz continued through its beginning. Perfect. Except she furrowed those eyebrows again - oh. She didn’t know how to dance a waltz, having grown up in apocalypses so hadn’t had the Midgardian experiences Loki had.
“Put your left hand on my shoulder.”
As she did, Loki placed his right hand on the middle of Sylvie’s back, careful to not touch her bare skin that was revealed by a deep V of her dress. He had to move slow.
Loki raised his left hand, “Now we hold hands.”
“Sure is a lot of touching.”
“It’s a dance. Now follow me.”
Loki led her amongst the other dancers and she quickly picked it up. Loki dared to press his body closer and a hint of red appeared on her cheeks. Oh he liked that look on her very much. Loki had just about eleven minutes of the song to sweep her off her feet. He moved them to the ebb and flow of the music. There were no words between them - only the music, their bodies, and the dance.
The masks kept some level of barrier as they made eye contact, but it was still intense. Loki felt as his heart would burst, he never wished for it to end. He could hold her in his arms for eternity.
Except the song had to end. Loki knew the end of it was approaching, so he led Sylvie off the dance floor to the balcony doors and opened them telekinetically. Sylvie rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything as he closed the doors behind them.
The quiet roar of a city on New Year’s Eve came from below, and still they didn’t say anything, only held hands. Loki was at a loss for words for once. She was there, in front of him. They danced a waltz.
Sylvie took off her mask. “That was the second most romantic experience of my life.”
“Second, what was the first?” Loki frowned and took off his own mask. He wanted to be on the top of all her lists. The good ones, to be specific.
“The tablecloth.”
Loki smiled. Oh he was. He was the top of the list. “It was a blanket.”
Sylvie shrugged, “Not very cozy.”
“I can do better.”
“You’ve done good.” Her face fell a little, “You didn’t want that throne after all.”
“I don’t. I want you to be okay.”
“I’m working on that.”
There were so many things to say, to ask, but Loki settled on one. “Can I help?”
Sylvie shook her head, “It’s something I have to do on my own.”
Loki’s heart sunk lower than he thought possible. He looked away. It hurt. “Oh.”
“I want you to be okay too.” She squeezed his hand.
Loki’s heart tentatively hoped at the touch and her words. People did have to take care of themselves, but there could be support, yes? Friends, family… a lover. Loki wanted to be all of them for her.
There was a countdown coming from inside and Loki could hear the crowd yell, “Ten!”
Sylvie said quietly, “I’m sorry.”
“Accepted. I’m sorry as well.” Loki still held her hand and she made no move to let go. That was good progress.
“Eight!”
She added, “We could try to be okay, next to each other.”
“Six!”
Loki’s heart hoped even more, but the situation felt fragile, like if he held on too hard it would crush in his grasp, “Perhaps even together.”
“Four!”
Sylvie smiled a little, cautious. “Together.” Then her gaze flicked to his and back to his eyes. “A kiss at midnight’s supposed to be lucky.”
“Two!”
Yes. He desperately wanted a happy kiss with her. Loki smirked then, “We better not miss the opportunity.”
“One!” Cheers went up inside, signifying midnight had struck.
Sylvie tilted her head up and Loki met her in the middle. Fireworks were in the sky as they kissed and their masks fell to the stone of the balcony. Loki moved his free hand to her waist and she moved hers to his shoulder. They moved as close as they could get, pressing their bodies close.
Loki’s heart was full of hope and promise. They could do anything together, he was so sure of it. Even protect the multiverse, but that could wait for its own time. At that moment it was only them and their kiss at midnight.
FIN
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The last two chapters of my love across infinities fic, "Against All Time'.
I have working on this fic since April so it's a relief to finally get it over with. I enjoyed the world building and different time periods of this fic, and I hope those who read it enjoyed it as well.
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I wrote a McSylki one-shot! Loosely based on the recent set photos. Loki finds a variant of Sylvie working at McDonald’s.
Bit of a tearjerker, but of course there’s a hopeful ending. https://archiveofourown.org/works/40471194
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"Time & the Trickster"- MASTERLIST
A MCU/Doctor Who crossover
by ijuststareatstuffhereok89
One last-ditch effort to prevent his total sacrifice at the TVA sends Loki careening through the Timelines until he finds what may be the strangest one of all: one where there is only one Realm, gods and heroes are but the subjects of stories, and Loki is nothing more than a silly character played by a rather dashing actor. His only hope comes in the form of the first person he meets, who suggests a mysterious mad Doctor might be his only chance to return home.
PAIRING: eventual Loki x Reader, hinted Ten x Rose Tyler
GENRE: Time-Travel Adventure, Romance, Some Smut
CONTENT WARNING (DNI, 18+ ONLY): some elements of smut, character betrayal, anti-Sylvie, more to come
Prologue: The Stone
1- A Birthday Surprise
2- Window to the World
3- The Doctor and I
4- The Magic I Can Do
5- Boston
6- Two If By Sea
7- A Titanic Setback
8- For Now
9- Look Up
10- Green Sky in the Morning
11- London
12- The Three Time Lords
13- Those of Us Left Behind
14- Sylvie's Choice
15- Journey's End
Epilogue: Goddess of Stories --Coming Soon!
IF YOU'D LIKE TO BE TAGGED FOR UPDATES, PLEASE COMMENT & REBLOG THIS MASTERLIST PLEASE! Thank you!
#loki#fanfiction#mcu#mcu loki#loki fanfiction#loki x reader#mcu fanfiction#loki laufeyson#loki/reader#loki smut#adventure#time travel#crossover fic#mcu crossover#doctor who#doctor who crossover#mcu/doctor who crossover#tenth doctor#time stone#tva#marvel loki#loki series 2#loki series spoilers#loki season 2#loki spoilers#mobius#mobius m mobius#loki s2#anti-sylvie#anti-sylki
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Little fanart of the second part of shoalsandsuch 's sylki fan fic
"As Long as You are mine"
Go devour and scream over her fic in her comments!
#sylki#loki#sylvie#loki series#sylvie laufeydottir#loki laufeyson#eithniel art#my art#artists on tumblr#pro sylki#sylki fanart#sylki fanfic#sylvie fanart#sylvie fanfic#loki fanart#loki fanfic#loki fanfiction#loki god of mischief#sylvie goddess of mischief
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Summary: While Sylvie is out on a mission, Loki finds a box containing some of her old mixtapes while spring cleaning…including one that’s labeled with his name.
#sylki#loki x sylvie#sylki fanfiction#sylki fanfic#sylvie x loki#sylki fic#lovedaggers#sylvie#lovie#loki series
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Got 69 sylki wips now 😭
#got the funny number for fanfics lets gooo#sylki#sylki fanfics#sylki fanfic#sylki fanfiction#fanfiction#loki#loki fanfiction#loki (2021)#loki (2023)#loki (2021) fanfiction#loki (2023) fanfiction#edited for clarification
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Wrote a silly little fic in response to a silly little poll on Twitter. 😘
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Chapter 9 (x)
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Sylki fic: When She Sings She Sings Come Home
Loki/Sylvie, 3200 words. Post s02e06 fix-it, angst with a happy ending. Also available on AO3 under the same title and username.
--
When She Sings She Sings Come Home
Sylvie wakes with Loki’s voice in her ears.
It’s been months since she last saw him, striding out to the Loom to save the timelines. Winter has come and gone, here in this little corner of a branch that she’s made her home. Every day that’s passed, she’s half expected to turn around and see him standing there, like that night he appeared in the parking lot next to her truck. But for months, there’s been nothing but the absence of him, growing larger and more crystalline every day.
She wakes with his voice in her ears, singing that ridiculous song from the train on Lamentis.
To Sylvie, everybody! he’d said, grinning at her, not drunk only too full. She would give anything to see him smile like that again. She would give anything to see him again.
And it isn’t that she hasn’t looked. Of course she had. She’d barely gotten through a single shift at McDonald’s after leaving Mobius standing outside his variant’s house before she’d used He Who Remain’s TemPad to try to find Loki.
He wasn’t dead. She knows he isn’t dead. But he also isn’t anywhere. There are an infinite number of branches now, layers of reality twisting around each other into something larger, a shape she can almost see, almost recognize. But Loki isn’t on any of them. No matter where she searches, he remains just outside her grasp.
Sylvie goes to work, she drives her truck home, she listens to music at the record store, she checks in on Mobius, she tries to sleep. But everywhere is marked by Loki’s absence, and every moment is overlaid with the sound of him singing.
She can’t find Loki, but that song is a thread she can pull at. Where did he learn it? The words were almost Asgardian, but not quite. Something similar, a branch of the original. A variant. Because of course it was.
It’s not until she thinks to quietly spy on the New Asgard settlement in Norway, forty years on from her quiet life in Oklahoma, that she hears the language again. Norwegian.
Remember this place, she hears Odin say, in a memory that is not hers, rippling through the interwoven timelines because it is what she needs in this moment. Home.
She turns her back on New Asgard, on the man who is almost but not quite her brother, on the Valkyrie who will come to lead their people like the hero out of a saga that Sylvie had once wished she could become. She turns her back, and walks into this strange, beautiful land. Norway. One tiny place on one tiny planet in one insignificant branch of the ever-growing tree of time, where the syllables are shaped into words that resonate with Loki’s voice from so long ago.
Sylvie wanders into pubs, into taverns, into bars, into concerts. She hums the few notes that never leave her head, and hopes to find someone who knows the song.
Until, miraculously, one day, she does.
“It’s an old drinking song,” the bearded man at the bar tells her, gesturing with his beer. “It’s about taking the long way home, but knowing you’ll get there in the end.”
“Can you teach it to me?” Sylvie asks, unblinking, gaze trained on the stranger’s face.
“For that, I will need a lot more beer.”
So she buys him beers. She coaxes the song out of him. She buys rounds for the whole bar, until they are all singing it. They teach her the words in Norwegian, teach her to shape the vowels as carefully as any incantation, and then teach her the meaning behind the words.
In storm-black mountains, I wander alone
Over the glacier I make my way
In the apple garden stands the maiden fair
and sings, “When will you come home?”
“You, I think,” her drunk bearded acquaintance says to her, “you are the maiden fair.”
“And what if I am?” Sylvie asks, raising her chin, still dead-sober despite the bourbon clutched in her hand.
“Then you must sing for him to come home!”
“From an apple orchard, if you can manage it,” leers his friend next to him.
“Will it work?” she hears herself say.
“Of course it will work! Music is magic. Galdr, they used to call it, in the old religion. The power of your voice to shape reality.” The man is drunk, but his words tug at something in Sylvie’s memory, long buried. “Sing, and he will come home.”
“As simple as that?”
The bearded man laughs uproariously. “When has love ever been simple?” he demands jovially. “When has magic ever been easy? But that does not mean it is not worth trying. There is beauty in the trying. There is love in the longing.” He’s slurring his words, barely managing to stay atop his barstool.
But he’s not wrong.
I know what kind of god I need to be, Loki had said, tears shining in his eyes. For you. For all of us.
But Sylvie is a god, too, she reminds herself, as she tosses back her bourbon and turns her back on the little Norwegian town, with the northern lights rippling over head. She’s not the goddess of chaos anymore, and she hasn’t felt mischievous since she was a child.
But the goddess of galdr, yes, that perhaps is something she could be.
She returns to her little Oklahoma town, cloud cover obliterating the stars, and drives her truck to the record store. There’s only one song she wants to hear, only one voice to sing it, but music has been her comfort since she came to this place, and she cannot simply become the goddess of music-turned-into-magic because she wishes it to be so. Music has been her shield, her cocoon, her comfort these long lonely months. Now she must learn to form it into other shapes, into weapons and tools. Into a lighthouse, shining out into the vast dark of the multiverse.
She taught herself enchantment, while running for her life from one apocalypse to the next. She can teach herself galdr in this quiet little record shop in this quiet little town.
Sylvie slides the headphones into place, and lets the music move through her.
Oh, sweet nothin'
She ain't got nothin' at all
Oh, sweet nothin'
She ain't got nothin' at all
But what if she had something? What if she had the one person who would make all of this worth it?
I know what kind of god I need to be, she tells herself. For you, Loki.
She murmurs the words along with the music, infusing them with intent, with magic.
And for one fraction of an instant, she can see him.
He’s alone, on the throne he never wanted, surrounded by the threads of the multiverse, pulsing green as they grow and twist. There is nothing, nothing else, only Loki alone in that vast emptiness, in that expanse of everything that ever was or ever could be.
His eyes are dull, unfocused, far away. And then— a flicker of recognition, a spark of life—
Sylvie loses the connection.
She’s alone on the sofa in the back of the record shop, with Lou Reed singing in her ears.
He ain’t got nothing at all
She drives home. She tries to sleep. She keeps hearing Loki’s voice, keeps seeing him alone in that emptiness. She murmurs into the darkness— not quite a song, not quite a spell—
But trees dance and waterfalls stop
When she sings, she sings “come home”
There is a shape to the enormity of what Loki has done. There is an order to the way the branches of the multiverse wrap around each other. It is just outside her grasp, but Sylvie feels that if she could just see the shape of it, she might understand.
She might be able to reach him.
In storm-black mountains, I wander alone she whispers to the emptiness of her tiny apartment, in this tiny town, in this little branch of a timeline, one miniscule part of a greater whole, and falls asleep dreaming of trees dancing, of waterfalls stopping, of Loki taking her outside the flow of time to tell her that there was no other way to keep her safe.
Sylvie wakes with her own voice in her ears.
The song is coursing through her, jeg saler min ganger, and she can feel the magic at her fingertips, on the tip of her tongue, pushing at the insides of her ribs, swelling her lungs and begging to be released.
I know what kind of god I need to be.
She gets into her truck and drives. North and east, away from everything she knows, vaguely towards those northern lights dancing over the fjords, too far away to reach on roads such as these.
But once upon a time, when she was very young, there was another road. A rainbow road, the Bifrost, that could take her anywhere just like magic.
Every bit of magic she has now she has taught herself. And this, too, this song swelling in her chest, is magic of her own making.
There is beauty in the trying. There is love in the longing.
She drives past fields of wheat and fields of corn, through days and nights, with the glare of the sun or the pattering of the rain against the windshield. Sylvie drives and drives and drives, and keeps the song tucked away inside her, growing in fury like a hurricane in a bottle, like the storm that had raged outside the night they met.
She drives until the scent of apples wafts through the open windows of the truck, and then she pulls over, knowing this was her destination all along.
Iðunn, a childhood memory whispers, too long ago now to have any meaning at all. The apples of eternity.
Home she thinks, and then hears, from a memory not her own:
Asgard’s not a place, it’s a people.
This could be Asgard. Asgard is where our people stand.
Her brother’s voice. The voice of the man who had once raised her as his daughter. The family she lost and can never regain, no matter what shape the multiverse twists itself into. Words reaching across time, across branching timelines, to reach her here and now, because it is what she needs to hear.
Sylvie climbs out of her truck and walks into the apple orchard and doesn’t look back.
She walks until she can no longer see the road from between the trunks and branches. She walks until there is nothing but the smell of apples, the soil under foot, and the sky over head. She walks until the song finally bursts out of her, all of her desperation and loneliness flooding out of her lungs to shake the very air around her, in the shape of words that are his but also hers, now.
But trees dance and waterfalls stop
When she sings, she sings “come home”
In storm-black mountains, I wander alone
Over the glacier I make my way
In the apple garden stands the maiden fair
and sings, “When will you come home?”
But trees dance and waterfalls stop
When she sings, she sings “come home”
When she sings, she sings “come home”
When she sings, she sings “come home”
When she sings, she sings “come home!”
And then he is there, standing beside her in the sunshine and the scent of the apple orchard. Loki glances around at the trees dancing in the wind, his eyes bright, before his gaze snaps to hers.
“You’re here,” Sylvie croaks, her voice burned through with the force of the magic that poured out of her, the magic that’s brought Loki to her.
“No, not really,” he says, his eyes never still as they trace over her face. “I’m still there too. I’m sort of everywhere, really. It’s hard to explain.”
“Help me to understand,” she says before the words even have the chance to fade away. “You said you knew what kind of god you needed to be. You saved us, you saved everything, and then you disappeared. Make me understand.”
“I can’t, Sylvie,” Loki says gently, and there is a sorrow in his eyes deeper than oceans, more boundless than the vastness of space. “It’s been centuries for me. Lifetimes. I wouldn’t know where to start.”
Enchant me, he had begged her once, standing in the McDonald’s parking lot in his ridiculous TVA uniform. You can see what I saw.
“You don’t have to say anything,” she tells him, raising her hands slowly towards his face, green magic flickering between her fingers. “Just let me see what you saw.”
“Sylvie,” he starts, and there are tears in his eyes again, like there were in that last moment before he turned his back on her to destroy the Loom.
“We’re the same, remember?” she says, and if her voice cracks it is only because of the abuse it’s suffered, only because of the magic that poured out through her vocal chords to shape reality to her desires. “You shouldn’t have to bear this burden alone, Loki,” she tells him, with as much tenderness as she can force into her ruined voice. “Let me understand.”
“It was the only way,” he says, as if in warning, but Sylvie cups his face in her hands before the tears can fall from his eyes.
Centuries. Lifetimes. The same day, over and over again. Reality unspooling, starting with Victor Timely and ending with her, again and again. Their fight in the Citadel at the end of time, relived hundreds of times, always with the same ending. Always the death of He Who Remains, and the unraveling of everything, failure after failure after failure.
And yet in all of them, she does not kiss him. And he cannot bring himself to kill her. Until only one choice remains.
I know what kind of god I need to be. For you.
Sylvie watches in Loki’s memory as the temporal radiation burns away his TVA uniform, as his magic replaces it with something older, something primal, something true. She watches as he grasps the decaying branches of the multiverse and breathes life into them, wills them to live, to be whole and part of a whole.
She watches as the branches twist around each other, each variation of the timeline finding support in its neighbors, building into something greater than the sum of every moment of every timeline that has ever existed.
She sees the shape of what Loki has done, the enormous, infinite tree dancing in the nothingness outside of time. Yggdrasil, the worldstree, green and glowing, alive and growing, all because Loki willed it so. To restore freewill and safeguard it forever. For all of us.
His hands cover hers and Loki gently pries her fingers away from his face. “Enough, Sylvie. Enough. I know what I’ve done.”
There are tears on her face, the apple-scented wind plucking at the wetness as she stands there, staring at Loki. Even without the enchantment, she can see him sitting on his throne, alone but for the infinite tree he tends.
“It was the only way?” she asks in the ruins of her voice. It is only when he folds his hands around hers that she realizes she is shaking, trembling like a leaf in the wind. Not like dancing. Like shattering, collapsing in on herself with the weight of what he’s done.
“No,” Loki admits. “There was one other way. I could have left He Who Remains in charge. I could have let the TVA go back to pruning the timelines. But I would have had to kill you. I would have had to kill you with my own hands, and watch as you died, and then betray everything you ever believed in. I lived every variation of every action I could possibly change, but not that one. Not that.”
“You don’t even know me,” Sylvie blurts out before the words have fully formed in her mind. All of this, to save her? She cannot, she cannot—
Loki’s expressive face twists, stung by her words, hurt in this moment even beyond the deep sorrow that he wears like a cloak. “Of course I know you,” he says, wounded, his gaze searching her face. “Like I’ve never known anyone. Sylvie, I lov—”
She surges up onto her toes and kisses him, there among the apple trees. She kisses him for what he’s done, for what he refused to do. She kisses him for the loneliness they have both known far too much of, she kisses him for coming when she sang for him to come home. She kisses him because there is nothing else she can do, because there was never any other way for her, either.
And Loki kisses her in return, with a desperation borne of years, centuries, lifetimes of facing this alone. He kisses her in the apple garden, as the trees dance and the waterfalls stand still. He is there, kissing her, but also somewhere else, far away and outside time, tending to the tree that he gave his life to save.
“I can’t stay,” he says when they finally part, pressing his forehead to hers, his hands cupping her jaw in an echo of how she had enchanted him moments before. “I want to stay, more than anything, Sylvie, but I can’t, I can’t.”
“I know,” she assures him, even as she clutches at his robes for fear he will disappear at any moment. “I know you can’t stay here with me,” she says, then takes a deep breath to steady her ragged voice, her thundering heart. “But you don’t have to be alone.”
Loki pulls away abruptly, only far enough to see her face, confusion pinching his features.
“We’re gods, you said,” Sylvie explains, tripping over her words, her voice trembling with the weight of what she has already done, the weight of what she plans to do. “We have a responsibility. That’s what you told me, in that ridiculous room full of pie. We can’t just give everyone freewill and then walk away.” She offers him a small smile, the best she can summon at the current moment. “You have to sustain Yggdrasil. But you don’t have to do it alone.”
“I did this for you,” he says, holding on to her as desperately as she is clutching at him. “So you could have a life. That’s what you said you wanted, to live.”
“It’s freewill, Loki,” she says, shaking her head. “You can’t just give it to everyone and then be surprised when I use it to choose to be with you. I know what kind of god I need to be. You taught me that. I won’t let you bear this burden alone. That’s the kind of god I choose to be.”
“I can’t let you sacrifice yourself for me—”
“The only sacrifice would be giving you up.”
He gazes at her for a long moment, his uncertainty slowly transforming, then sings softly, “I stormsvarte fjell, jeg vandrer alene,” and this time Sylvie understands the words. “Over isbreen tar jeg meg frem. I eplehagen står møyen den vene, og synger: ‘når kommer du hjem?’”
The apple orchard dissolves around them, replaced by the rippling greens and blues and purples of Yggdrasil, shimmering in the darkness outside of time.
“Home,” Sylvie says, and kisses him again.
#spoilers#Loki spoilers#Loki show#Loki series#Loki season 2#Loki and Sylvie#Sylki#Sylki fanfic#pro Sylki#Loki#Sylvie#spoilers for season 2#spoilers for s02e06#please reblog and comment!#this poured out of me in one continuous stretch of about 2 hours#minus a quick bathroom break and water refill#I've done an editing pass but my beta-reader has already gone to bed so any mistakes are my own#also available on AO3 under the same title and username#my fanfiction#my writing#When She Sings She Sings Come Home
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Chapter 9 and 10 of my love across infinities fic where Sylvie's captured and forced to fight in a gladiator contest while Loki has to escape Kang
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