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darlingpetao3 · 7 years

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For Asgard (Chapter 14/?)

There it was again, that “portal feeling” you had felt once before. Like you were floating, and at a fleeting pace. The entire atmosphere around you was as blue as the stone on Loki's sceptre. There's a light shining in front of you, bright as the sun.

Suddenly, your feet come in contact with the hard ground beneath you. Your arrival feels like a hot one as you can feel your forehead beginning to sweat. There is a blue haze surrounding you and funnelling outwards and upwards. Loki has hunched himself over you in full protection mode.

For goodness sake, where were you now?

Wherever it was, it had blinding lights shining right at you, so you couldn't exactly examine the place too well. But you hear carefully placed footsteps...

You both rise slowly to stand straight and take in your new surroundings. Eyes adjusting, it seems to be a giant warehouse or laboratory. There are men staring at you strangely from all points in the room. Some with impressively large artillery.

You dart your eyes over to Loki, who is grinning rather evilly at the onlookers. Then he turns to look at you, that same crazy smile on his face. It's happening. This is apart of his plan. You return an equally devilish smile. These people are about to see just what you two are capable of.

Time to play along.

The room is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. At least, until one of the men breaks the silence.

“Sir, please put down the spear,” calmly, yet firmly says the man wearing a bizarre black eyepatch and some kind of black leather duster straight out of The Matrix. But then again, you two are wearing odder than normal clothing as well, so who are you to judge, really?

Loki looks at his new toy, held tight in his hand, then to everyone else. You stand there with your hand on your hip, looking at your nails, appearing bored and unimpressed with everything.

He probably shouldn't have said that.

Loki blasts his weapon at Eyepatch, but the man beside him knocks him down and out of the line of fire. Loki leaps down off the platform you were standing on like a predator at a soldier about to shoot at him and stabs him with the pointy end of the sceptre. The soldier yells out in pain.

You spot the other soldiers preparing to shoot at Loki again, but you take control of the situation. Pulling out deadly throwing knives from your hair and letting it loose, you launch them at the men in an attempt to hit your marks: their brachial arteries. One hit in that upper arm area and they will require some serious emergency medical attention. Stat.

It's pure chaos in the warehouse. These men were no match for the power of two fully trained people, plus the power of the sceptre. Bodies fly, hitting the walls and machinery. They drop to the ground after cries of agony. But they were out to get us. We had to defend ourselves. We've come too far to play nice, you repeatedly try to assure yourself.

One man tries to get up, but you dart over to him and hold his arms back while Loki places the sceptre over his chest.

“You have heart,” Loki tells him. The sceptre's stone lights up and the man's eyes turn completely black. Demon-like. It's kind of unnerving, especially knowing that you were in that exact position once... He puts his gun back in its holster. His eyes clearly read he's open to Loki's every order.

“Thank you, darling,” Loki says to you, followed by a kiss.

“My pleasure, babe.” You lean in towards your newly acquired subject. “What's your name, hon?”

“Clint Barton, Miss,” he informs you. “Alias: Hawkeye.”

“I'm sure you'll be an excellent asset to us.”

You and Loki carry on to take over the minds of other pathetic soldiers left standing, but not long into the task, you spot Eyepatch in the distance trying to make a break for it with a glowing blue cube. That does not look good. You bring it to Loki's attention by motioning your head in that direction.

“Please don't,” Loki calls out to Eyepatch. “We still need that.”

“This doesn't have to get any messier,” says Eyepatch definitively.

“Of course it does. We have come too far for anything else. I am Loki of Asgard, and this is The Mistress.” You give a little waggle of your fingers to Eyepatch. “And we are burdened with glorious purpose.”

An older looking man shouts from behind, “Loki, brother of Thor!” You cover your mouth with your hand. Oh no... Don't bring up Thor. Sometimes, during your visits at the compound, Loki would let off steam by ranting about all the things Thor did to ruin his life growing up (though maybe that was a bit dramatic of him). God, you were in love with such a drama queen sometimes. Loki looks absolutely pissed at the comment. He's far more than the “brother of Thor.” And that is the last thing anyone should say to him right now. Loki swallows any and every possible comeback. That must have been hard for him to do.

“We have no quarrel with your people,” Eyepatch tries to level with him.

“An ant has no quarrel with a boot,” Loki points out.

“You planning to step on us?”

“We come with glad tidings of a world made free.”

“Free from what?” Eyepatch doesn't seem all too impressed.

“Freedom. Freedom is life's great lie. Once you accept that, in your heart...” he spins and taps the old man with the sceptre and converts him to your side. Frankly, it serves him right for that Thor comment. “You will know peace.”

“Yeah, you say peace. I kinda think you mean the other thing.”

“Sir, Miss,” says the first man you converted. Shoot, you forgot his name already. Something with a bird in it. Birdman? “Director Fury is stalling. This place is about to blow. Drop a hundred feet of rock on us. He means to bury us.”

“Like the pharaohs of old,” your darkly clad opponent mutters.

You lean over to Birdman. “I knew you'd be helpful,” you commend him. “But how can you be sure-?

“He's right!” the old man calls from behind a computer. “The portal is collapsing in on itself. We've got maybe two minutes before this goes critical.” What is he, a scientist or something?

“Well then,” says Loki, looking to Birdman, who then shoots Eyepatch without hesitation. It's as if he telepathically received the command. Remarkable. The one-eyed man falls to the ground with a thud.

Loki takes your hand and kisses it. “Shall we?”

“We shall. Let's roll out, boys!” you signal. The Scientist grabs the blue cube that hides safely in a briefcase and carries it like it's his security blanket. Birdman leads your squad out of the warehouse and into the vehicle parkade where you come across a lady agent.

“We need these vehicles,” Birdman tells her. Loki helps you into the bed of one of the trucks. He sits down and pats his thigh for you to sit on his lap. You don't have to be told twice.

“Who're they?” you hear the lady agent ask Birdman.

“They didn't tell me,” he replies coolly. She starts to walk away. That was easy. But then a static sounding voice crackles out of her radio. Damn it, it sounds like Eyepatch, and he's warning her. This is not good. Luckily, Birdman shoots at the leggy agent, but she ducks out of the way just in time. Before she even has a good shot at your crew though, Birdman hops into the driver's side and peels out of the parkade followed by a vehicular entourage. Loki holds tightly to you. The adrenaline pumping through you is thrilling and the sensation it brings you is startlingly addictive.

Soon enough though, this agency has got backup sent on your tail, and they are shooting frantically at your vehicle. Loki blasts at them with the sceptre to deter them. It works excellently, causing one of the cars to smash into a wall, flip over, and subsequently act as a barrier to the rest of your pursuers.

“Nice shot, baby,” you praise him. He gives you another peck on the lips. There's something about wild Loki that brings out his affectionate side. You like it.

The Lady Agent, now in her own car, pulls out in front of Birdman from out of freaking nowhere! You suppose this place has a secret tunnel system, that's smart. There's a commotion and gunshot sounds coming from in front of the vehicle, but it's impossible to see from back in the bed of the truck.

A deep rumbling can be felt beneath the ground. It must have to do with the power of the cube somehow. The Tesseract, you remember its name. Holy shit- the tunnel is caving in! The ceiling of rock is crumbling and gaining on your squad. You can do nothing but watch it race your way. Birdman punches the accelerator.

A massive clump of rock breaks from overhead and falls on and in front of Lady Agent's car. A gasp escapes you for some reason. You weren't close to her, you didn't know her. She was after you. Plus, she's probably fine anyway, you tell yourself. At last, you breathe in fresh air from outside upon exiting the tunnel. But now a helicopter flies overtop of the getaway truck. You see the chopper's door slide open and a black leather duster flaps in the wind. Eyepatch. Next thing you know, he's firing at you guys ruthlessly. A bullet cracks the windshield.

Loki motions for you to stand. He hands you the sceptre and shows you how to hold it, his hands resting over yours. He wants you to shoot back? But you don't even know if you can! How does this thing even work? The adrenaline you have been feeling all this time has reached its top notch now, and you don't even think you can contain it, it's so overpowering. Loki runs his hands up from yours to your arms and then sets them on your waist.

“Ready. Aim. Fire,” he commands you. First, you focus on a non-critical area of the helicopter to attack. You don't want any deaths on your hands, now. Serious wounds you'd be okay with. Once you find the right spot, you channel all the built up energy inside of you and the sceptre seems to read your timing. A bright blast shoots up at the chopper. It hits where the tail meets the body of the machine and that sends it spiralling toward the ground. Eyepatch jumps down from the doomed machine, plummeting before it hits the ground. It didn't look like that far of a jump. He shouldn't be too hurt. Not that you particularly care for his safety, that is. But you had to hand it to the guy, he's pretty badass.

The getaway truck speeds away from the destruction. Loki and yourself are breathing hard now. “You were absolutely wonderful, darling,” he praises you. “Come here.” You curl into him, feeling unexpectedly and overly tired. It's like the weapon drained all the energy stored from inside you in order to function. How does Loki possibly manage it? You fall in and out of sleep on the long, cool-aired drive. Before your last stream of consciousness, you thought you heard a set of propellers and engines firing up...

Part 15

Tag List: @gerardwayisapotato, @theloneavenger1995, @magellan-88

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worstloki · 4 years

Note

What if Loki made scented candles, but like candles with oddly specific scents? I’m not entirely sure where this thought came from but I wanted to share it with you because I figure you’d appreciate it

Because I wanted to, I decided to write on this. You’re welcome.

---

While readying for his attack on New York - a location he had picked due to a very specific landmark that he believed ought to attract the heroes’ attention sooner rather than later- Loki finds himself with a rather large block of free time.

Leaving the SHIELD base with Clint and Selvig had, predictably, but also to his immense disappointment, proven to be an ingeniously efficient way to gain the required research and to amass enough villainous hands to actualise the equipment to open a portal; members of the spying business such as Barton do tend to have useful knowledge on a wonderfully large amount of people, especially of the opposing side, after all.

Having been touched by the mind stone, Selvig carries out the scientific theory aspects of the wormhole generator without assistance. Hawkeye’s ability to successfully market a sales pitch that should not be appealing in the least (re: “trying to help an alien prince conquer the world, you interested?”, “I’ll owe you one if you can find the time to help build a portal machine to space” and “there’s free food in it for you if you join with no questions asked”) has resulted in enough people contributing to get the work done.

From there everyone began to organise themselves, and Loki had been thoroughly left with nothing to do. Nothing world-saving (or, as everyone else will insist, ‘world-dominating’) at least.

As is often with Loki, his best ideas occur when he is completely and utterly bored. And right then, sitting in the dark sipping on hot chocolate (yes, he had invested in a drink machine. He has employees and just because he may be perceived as such, he is not actually a monster. Not enough to say no to coffee for Barton.) he looked out at the assortment of people scurrying about to get work done, and he realised he was bored. It was nice of Clint to offer him the sweet drink, but he could not spend the next few days occupying himself with cocoa beverages.

Loki knew his physical capabilities were a bit tenuous at the moment and it would be unwise to take part in any activities that would take up too much energy, but sitting on a step in the dark watching his workers buzz about, helping simply because they could, Loki decided they should be rewarded with a token gift at the very least.

Sitting on a step in the dark Loki decided; using the smell of the sickeningly sweet drink to ground him to the present, using the heat of the mug in his palms to warm his hands, tracing the pattern on the painted ceramic to hide the slight tremors in his fingers that hadn’t seemed to be lessening despite having left the company of his extremely kind patrons a full day ago, with the taste of the flavoured milk on his tongue, Loki decided he would gift them each with something of equal value. Something that would calm their anxieties and ground them, give them warmth, and if he could figure out how, he would even get the candles to induce taste.

After a full five minutes combining a creation spell meant for refilling candelabras with one meant to draw on memories to scent the air Loki is able to create the first candle.

It is, in appearance, a regular wax candle; not unlike one expected to be found in a normal Midgardian store. After some thought he adds a casing made of green and black stained glass and places a gold bordered sticker reading “loki”.

When lit Loki knows the candle will not only warm the vicinity more than a single flickering flame ought to, but will also smell of and provide the comfort he felt as he drank the chocolatey beverage, to whomever lights the candle, for as long as the flame burns. The candle will also last a tad bit longer than regular candles and Loki sincerely hopes no one will notice something like that.

Such simple spells of creation should not require much time or effort to make on his part and the candles will provide the perfect personalised gift to thank the people working under him who for whatever reasons seem disinclined to accept monetary payment. It is, in his opinion, the ideal gift as it can be used for decorative or pragmatic purposes and can be theoretically placed anywhere and still induce the calming effect the scent will have.

He begins drafting ideas for memories he believes would be suited for each worker on a notepad he’d purchased on his way from escaping the SHIELD base.

His task force is not too large but considering moments which he would wish to share into each candle, moments which they would enjoy as much as himself, requires some thought. Despite the amount of thought he is putting into what smell different people would find comforting he assures himself that he is gifting these candles out of a sense of duty as it would be dishonourable not to pay the people who are genuinely helping him… for the sake of helping him. They are, after all, his workers, and only a portion of them even required the sceptre. Servitude should be rewarded, even if they refuse to be paid in cash or gold.

Despite not harbouring any care (not even a drop of care, honestly speaking) for the humans around him he spends most of the afternoon brainstorming smells and matching his people to experiences he thinks they would like.

---

After a quick walk around to gauge the rate at which progress is being made, he takes a seat on the side of the room and starts coaxing the first candle into existence. He is annoyed when he feels The Other pulling his attention, but projects himself away anyways as it would be quite rude to ignore. (And is quite mentally agitating to ignore.)

“The Chitauri grow restless.” The Other states.

Not even a hello? Loki thinks bitterly before replying: “Let them go at themselves - I will lead them into glorious battle.”

“Battle?” The Other all but spits, “Against the meagre might of Earth?”

“Glorious, not lengthy”, Loki assures him, wondering if The Other realises he is insulting the very reward Loki had agreed to (bargained for), before deciding that No, The Other wouldn’t recognise an insult if it slapped him across the astral plane. To prove his own point he continues, “…if your force is as formidable as you claim”.

“You question us? You question HIM? He, who put the sceptre in your hand, who gave you ancient knowledge and new purpose when you were cast out, defeated?”

Not at all, Loki thinks, in fact, I did not utter a single question.

Just to see how off-topic he could veer their conversation this time, he decides to reply with the first petty thought that comes to mind.

“I was a king! The rightful king of Asgard! Betrayed!” he yells, as he instead concentrates on the feeling of his feet sinking into white sand and the sharp smells of the salty expanses of water that appear in southern Alfheim during the rainier seasons.

He already decided he is got everything he was going to get out of this conversation, and so he continues creating the candle on Earth, paying only enough mind to keep the conversation going.

“Your ambition is little, born of childish need.” The Other reprimands, “We look beyond the Earth to greater worlds the Tesseract will unveil.”.

“You don't even have the Tesseract yet.” Loki points out, pointedly.

The issue with dividing your conscience is that sometimes you forget the brain to mouth filter needs to be left on.

When The Other moves as if to attack him for his insolence he makes sure to console the six-handed-one’s ego enough to not get him to dig into his brain and cause him pain with his mental capabilities. Limited though The Other’s mind-bending powers are, he would not allow himself to stop it because his flimsy cover of being on the dark side would be blown.

It would also be inconvenient for The Other to realise he was thinking of sandy beaches and only had 34% of himself paying attention to him while the other 66% was thinking about Alf beaches in the monsoon.

The rest of the conversation with The Other was unimportant, and as usual he was dismissed with a sharp pain in his head.

It did not matter. When he returned his full consciousness to himself, he grimaced for only a second before looking down at the unassuming candle laid before him. Its casing was of purple and black stained glass and there was a white label with fancy gold outline and the word “Barton” in black calligraphy.

---

By the time it was morning Loki had finished distributing the candles. He’d made 143 of them; one for everyone in his service, and 2 extras for the men that had broken down into tears and dropped their candles the first time around.

Apparently, though these people had joined him of their own volition, they were still people. Most of them had been driven to a negative lifestyle by their living conditions and society’s discrimination which apparently had no system in place to give hospitality to all who came under their governance and needed assistance.

He found himself wondering if he actually should try to take over this world; the planet is clearly in need of a central governing system to prevent all their internal spats. The fact that they could discriminate within their own species to such extents was shocking, even to Loki: even indecisive enough to contemplate what to wear weeks in advance as he tended to do, it had only taken him going through a few academic papers to come to the opinion of humans as monstrous. Not all of them, of course - only a select few were truly abhorrent, and yet what a select few they were.

No, he thought, even I would not be able to fix this mess without blood, sweat, and tears. Not that he cared for Earth or anyone else in the realm.

---

He lasted as long it took for Clint to say he had a plan before he succumbed and made everyone a spare candle. Just in case.

He would not want Hawkeye to miss the salty tang of air that would soothe his nerves and remind him of the softer sounds in the world when his hearing aids or childhood memories suddenly cropped up to trouble him. He would not want Samson to miss out on the sensation of Asgard’s warm sunlight brushing his skin on a day when his terminal illness sent his chill bone deep. He wouldn’t want to deprive Demerton the smell of grass and the feeling of happiness Loki had felt when he tried to throw a knife onto the target and for the first time it actually landed – not that Demerton needed to know the unimportant details about the self-esteem boost –with his image issues the feeling would be something he needed.

Loki would not want his gifts to go unused simply because one of the foolish mortals managed to break their candle before they got the chance to light it.

“Tell me what you need,” Loki had answered Barton.

As they worked through the plan together, Loki tried not to think about what good gifts he had come up with, and how generous he was to be bestowing not just one, but two of the candles onto each member of his misfit group of helpers. Not altruistically of course: he hoped his workers would gain him the favour of earth through the candles. Somehow.

---

Twenty minutes into being in a glass cage had Loki deciding that it would be wrong of him to simply abandon all who were helping him, especially since he was planning on being defeated. This was fine for himself since he had made the decision to take a role as a villain, but them? Not even one of them had been given a choice when the universe forced them out of their homes or jobs or family. With nothing else to turn to except a life of crime or death, of course they had decided to live. As someone who had once chosen the latter option, he could not simply abandon them.

He sent most of his consciousness to a building across from Stark’s with 72 floors. It was not as tall as Tony’s, but it did not need to be. While monitoring Earth in his preparations for coming to ‘take over’ the realm, he had taken the building for loan when it had been on sale around a year ago.

It had cost a hefty price since it was across The Stark Tower™ and had been built over land that had previously held a building that looked near as old as Odin, but the price was nothing to him. Not after he bought it with Stark’s money (and the billionaire fool had not even noticed since it did not dent his net-worth, not that he was complaining… Stark’s credit cards were useful).

For now, he sat in a glass cage clearly not built for him (they could never have predicted someone as glamourous as himself showing up in time to have built this). But he also stood in an apartment building kilometres away from the Helicarrier.

He walked around using powered gestures to renovate the building. He would leave behind enough for his group to have the choice between villainy and an honest living.

The hours passed and the Loki in the skyscraper (an adequate name for such buildings) had put together the most therapeutic and entertaining of centres; it had candles and spas and facilities for every relaxation method imaginable but combined the space with recreation for all ages with indoor water rides and arcades and laser tag.

The hours passed and the Loki in the glass cage hadn’t required any of his attention at all; he may have spoken to the Black Widow but with 12% of his consciousness holding the conversation he could not be sure his guise of genocidal maniac had held up – he honestly would’ve liked to meet her under different circumstances, but hoped she hadn’t been able to tell he wasn’t completely present when talking with him.

---

After a nice chat where he blatantly revealed to Stark that his plan had been to lose this entire time, Loki attacked New York. The battle, as he had promised The Other, had indeed been glorious and not lengthy, although anyone actually siding with the villains would disagree. Luckily, Loki was not actually siding with the villains and had no qualms about being smug in his victory (no matter what others thought this was).

Before he left the realm in chains, he had been sure to announce to his batch of subjects that each of them had a job available with Ikol Industries anytime. (Barton, Selvig, and the few others which had the mind stone’s influence upon them had of course been excluded from this job offer.).

Most of the people under him had accepted the deal happily. A lot had teared up about it. Some cried shamelessly. Even less had declined, but Loki had not wanted those spies to stick around anyways.

Loki may have ended up fighting the Avengers with a depleted amount of magic, but that did not matter. He had lost. Everything had gone according to plan.

He may have even left some unassuming therapy candles for each of the Avengers to indulge in, courtesy of Ikol Industries. Each in a glass cover with their colours with names in gold over a white label, it was not difficult to imagine the Avengers becoming regular customers and nicely asking if they had more of ‘their’ candles from those that had assisted him in his faux attack. They wouldn’t even be wrong in assuming the candles were theirs. Loki had themed a floor of relax and rec after each of the avengers and the scents they enjoyed were indeed always magically in stock.

As a keeper of secrets it was incredibly easy for him to inexplicably know what scent and sensations would calm their mind if they were ever in need; especially Banner, who would indeed find his special green candle strong enough to silence the Hulk within him. Tony would not find himself waking in the night in distress if he had a candle by his bedside. Steve would find the dull ache in his chest reduced even when he thought of the life he had left behind when he dove into the ice. Natasha would accept her past actions without any inflation of guilt if she lit the candle during her morning stretches. Clint would always know it was not his fault as the salty tang reinvigorated his senses and reminded him that he could not be blamed for a past he could not control and the lives he could not save. Thor’s candle had a green flame and smelt of his rooms on Asgard.

Perhaps their super-secret boy band would question the individualisation of the candles. Perhaps they would notice the candles lasting a tad bit longer than regular candles. Perhaps Stark being unable to read anything on the composition of the candles would be suspicious. Perhaps they would joke about Ikol Industries being ‘Loki’ Industries and would joke about the ridiculously badly thought-out palindrome and the magical voodoo of the candles which had no apparent source location but were never out of stock. Perhaps they would recognise the workers as previous criminals. Perhaps they would realise the decisions that led them to that life had been circumstantial. Perhaps they would follow their suspicions up and Loki would be unable to answer: either locked away in a cell or dead.

But for all the trouble Loki had caused and for those he had brought suffering upon - even if his intentions had been good - his calmest and happiest memories were the least he could leave behind this world to assist in their recovery.

#worstloki writes #I wrote a little bonus scene at the end which I'll add in later #I reckon if i reblog it twice more people will get to witness the beauty that is my writing #that being said... anyone can use this to expand upon #@kittensrcute4231 I appreciate the idea quite a bit #of course loki would be all about specific scented candles #he's 70% dark academia and that means dramatic flickering candles and ink splotches

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