#loki: that’s a pretentious name

[feathered-serpents]

I think the most unintentionally pretentious part of me is I genuinely forget that most people do not have a near-encyclopedic knowledge of mythology and folklore. I literally just assume most people know at least the name of every Greek god. My mom and I were watching the Banshees of Inisherin and at the start, she asked "Do you know what a banshee is?" and I was so stunned because it would never occur to me to ask that question because I would never assume the average person doesn't know what a banshee is. The average person knows what a banshee is right. You know what a banshee is right. You know the names of the greek gods right. You know that norse myth where loki fucked the horse right. Right. RIGHT

#personal #mythology

[recreationalfanfics]

Buddha + Loki falling for a Native! Diety s/o

Because as a native American woman who SIMPS for fictional men, it'd be nice to see fanfics of Native readers. Idk all the mythologies of other tribes so I'll try my best to keep it as Pan-Native American as possible! Obviously anyone can read this but just understand to respect the culture and know this is tailored to Native readers!

Buddha:

- The both of you weren't so different in terms of your beliefs and philosophies, in fact, Buddha had admired you and your people's culture from afar and it was mutual on your side as well.

- You were a God for much longer than he was and he swore you were the only one who still retained any love for your people.

- So he wasn't surprised when he saw you sided with the Valkyries, unable to stop himself from smiling everytime he saw the soft and adoring look you'd give the humans as they cheered for their champions.

- Your people called you The Creator, however, you felt as though that title might be a bit to...pretentious to go by when you were around other gods so you simply went by (Y/n), instead.

- But it was a fitting title, in Buddha's eyes. Many times when he allowed you to sit under his tree with him as he napped did he secretly open his eyes and see you sculpt creatures out of clay, breathing life into them and setting them down as you chuckled and petted them.

- You were humble, kind, and ethereal...even by a God's standards in his eyes.

- You'd be surprised with how down bad Buddha is for you tbh, you figured because of his easy going and calm disposition that he simply tolerated your prescence until one day when he offered you one of his snacks.

"For me?" You blinked in surprise, the bobcat you were sculpting now pushed into the back of your mind as you saw the treat being held before you. Buddha smiled and shrugged as he handed the lollipop to you, "I don't see anyone else here other than us."

"Hmm, I always figured you to be stingy with your snacks." You teased slightly but considering how its seen as rude to you and your people to turn down whatever you're offered, you gently set the clay animal in your lap and went to reach for the lollipop until you remembered...ah, yes, clay covered your hands.

Buddha seemed to notice your hesitance and sat up, crossing his legs and unwrapping the lollipop he was meant to give you. You watched carefully before he finally held it up to your lips.

"Let me help with that." He said suavely, a smirk on his lips.

You felt your face heat up at his actions but instead smiled and obligingly opened your mouth and smiled as he pushed the lollipop in, but then, as if nothing happened, he continued to lay down and nap and you continued to sculpt. However, the smiles you both shared were hard to wipe off as you continued to bask in the comfortable silence.

Loki:

- Creator Gods and Loki didn't really mix, but it wasn't hard to see why. Tricksters weren't exactly seen in the best light in most cultures, so a Trickster God didn't have that much better of a reputation. It also probably didn't help how often he liked to mess with them.

- But you, you were different. Trickster stories were quite common in your culture and while they were sometimes punished, they were also portrayed as heroes too sometimes.

- He suspected that you yourself, the esteemed Creator who made creatures from clay, seemed to enjoy tricksters. Unlike the other hoity-toity gods and goddesses who'd shoo or chase him away, you'd smile as you sensed his prescence and would make casual conversation.

- Many other dieties have called Loki many names, mostly behind his back since few would be bold enough to say them to his face, but you called him the names of many renowned trickster characters from your story. From Coyote, to Fox, to Rabbit.

- Whenever he asked what made you call him "Little Fox" one day to "Tricksy Coyote" the next and so on, you simply responded with a shrug and cheeky grin: "Is it really that hard to figure out? Some days, you remind me of a sneaky little fox but other days, you seem to have the appetite of a coyote looking to cause trouble."

- You understood the importance of balance. Yes dieties like you were important but so were God's like Loki, so you treated him with respect like you would any other God and while that respect was a little one sided for a while, it was clear he started to slowly hold you in high regard.

- Did this stop him from messing with you? No, it absolutely did not, and you weren't foolish enough to believe that you were an exception and that didn't upset you, not in the slightest. After all, he kept things interesting.

- It was a shame that you sided with humanity, although he can't say that he was surprised, you held your people in high regard. He'd be lying if he said that he didn't cheer you on during your battles instead of the side he was supposed to be on.

He knew you would win, there would have been no doubt about it. Perhaps the God against you had underestimated your power, maybe that's what made the fight more entertaining, the way you lowered his gaurd by making yourself seem weaker than you actually were...but perhaps you should leave the trickery to him, dear (Y/n), since you may have gotten a bit too cocky and sustained not a fatal injury, but you still had to see a healer.

You walked down the hallways to the healing wing, holding your side and scolding yourself for getting too prideful too early. Perhaps you should revisit the many stories your people made of warriors and creatures and their consequences of becoming too confident too quick. But, at least you managed to rack in another point for humanity. As the healer was treating you, you tilted your head and smiled softly at them.

"I had no idea you were such a skilled healer, rabbit." You remarked with a warm smile. The healer looked at you in shock but soon transformed into the mischievous green haired God, "Rabbit? That's a new one."

You shrugged and tilted your head: "To what do I owe the pleasure, Loki? I'd assume you'd be throwing a temper tantrum with Zeus and the others."

"But how could I be angry when you were the one I was rooting for?" He asked, giving you a close eyed grin. You raised an eyebrow and opened your mouth, only to be cut off when he held an eagle feather in front of your face.

"This fell off during your hobbling down here too, by the way." He informed. Your eyes widened in worry but he only chuckled at your sudden distress, "Don't worry, I grabbed it before it touched the ground. Honestly, you should be more careful in future battles, I'd hate to see the only God who knows how to have fun get hurt."

Ah, so he was following me,You thought to yourself, your amused smile returning.

"May I?" He asked, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You nodded and moved your face closer to him, one hand maneuvered gently under your chin to hold your face still and his other intertwining the eagle feather back into your hair. When he was done, he brought his hand back but still kept the one under your chin where it was.

You looked into his violet eyes with half lidded ones.

Hmm, you were wrong. You assumed he was a rabbit, just in a silly little mood ready to play his typical tricks. But you saw the hunger of a coyote in his eyes instead...but not for mischief or chaos for any of the sort.

It looked like he was hungry for you.

#ror loki #Ror Buddha #SNV loki #snv buddha #buddha x reader snv #buddha x reader ror #ror buddha x reader #snv buddha x reader #ror loki x reader #snv loki x reader #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok x reader #ror x reader #snv x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #native american reader #Native reader #Indigenous reader #x Native American reader #x indigenous reader #buddha x reader #buddha x you #Loki x reader #loki x you

[moonlight-prose]

pretty please may i request ❛i once imagined you loved me a little bit, if you’ll excuse the presumption.❜ from the &. 𝐟. 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐭𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐳𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬. prompt list with loki? clawing at the walls tysm 🌷

LOVE IS A SMOKE MADE WITH A FUME OF SIGHS

a/n: i haven't written anything this angsty is so long and it felt good to finally churn out that type of fic. i miss breaking these character's hearts. so babes i hope you know that i went so fucking pretentious with this one it actually made me pick up shakespeare just to title it. (yes it's from romeo and juliet which is ironic cause it's a love between a god and a human). but anyways i hope you enjoy! and of course the gif is crimson peak. it matched the vibe.

summary: you were never meant to be apart of their world, of his home. you were a mortal amongst gods and the time for your parting had finally come.

OR the heartbreak of losing someone who is half your soul.

word count: 2k

pairing: loki x reader

warnings: not explicit, angst, heartbreak, overly pretentious prose about love and pain, mention of death, waxing poetically about losing love, not edited because we live and die by the fucking pen.

The tragedy of love has always been steeped in irony to you. After all, there was something of hilarity bound between the emotions that connected two people so deeply they’d go to war for it. Or perhaps die for it. Maybe this belief came from never understanding it—never experiencing it for yourself. But how were you supposed to know what it looked like? What it felt like, when you had no notion of it even existing in the first place.

Maybe it was a well thought out joke that pulled people in, capturing them in the depths of something so mysterious. You understood heartbreak. Knew the depravity that came from having something ripped from you without a notion of consequence. But love…that remained as mythical to you as Lancelot and Guinevere.

You could feel his eyes on you the longer you stood there, fiddling with the drink in your hand. It wasn’t often that an Asgardian invited a human to visit their land and it was a rarity when it happened with a prince. But that’s where you wound up. Standing amidst legends and myths wanting to flee at a moment's notice. And he watched in earnest, with the hope that you would turn to catch his gaze.

“Excuse me,” you said with a smile to the man beside you who had been talking about the nonsense of science for thirty minutes.

Whether or not he actually believed the words he said became an afterthought. You couldn’t stand there and pretend any longer. You didn’t want to.

Music filled the surrounding space, drowning you in the joyous leisure of having nothing to worry about. What could possibly trouble such powerful beings? Where you were nothing but a small speck in the grand scheme of things. Something trivial that would one day pass and be extinguished just as fast as you were ignited.

You saw the way they viewed you the second you crossed the threshold of the hall. How they seemed to pity you. They would go on. They would continue to carve their names in the history of the universe and you would be but a fleeting memory in their minds. The most you could hope for was to place a smile on their face for a moment before you were gone entirely.

People danced wherever you went, others laughed and boasted about their triumphs. And you could feel the air begin to press out of your lungs. As if they were slowly stripping you of everything that made your body work. You gasped, pushing open a door that led to the courtyard in the hopes that you’d make it to a secluded area before you broke down entirely.

Flames were lit to preserve the warmth. They casted a glow along the architecture of the stone walls—trees placed perfectly along the outskirts. The temptation to hide away here lingered in your chest, but you could practically feel the seconds tick by. You only had a limited amount of time before people made their way outside to view the night sky.

Any other night this would be the most romantic setting to find yourself in. Tonight however you were plagued by a pain that refused to fade.

You wiped roughly at the tears that began to fall as footsteps echoed behind you. It seemed that your time was running out faster than you expected and you’d be caught in the open with no explanation to why you were crying. Maybe if you ran you wouldn't have to deal with the questions. But then the warm glow of the fire flickered an emerald green, sparks flying into the air and you felt the energy around you shift.

“I caught you leaving.”

The smile was prominent in his tone—light enough to presume he didn’t know why you were here. Yet no matter how much he tried to conceal his emotions…you could always read him like an open book. A fact he loathed about you.

“I needed air,” you replied, clasping your hands together.

“You will find plenty out here.” Another step echoed like a shot ringing through the air and suddenly he was pressing a hand to your shoulder. The cold sensation of his touch rippled through you. It flooded your senses with more than you could process at this time.

With a sharp gasp, you pulled away. “Don’t.”

“I’m not sure I understand—”

“Loki,” you sighed, finally giving in. With another breath, you turned to face him—the glimmer of tears now unmistakable in your eyes. “What am I doing here?”

You could see the mistake the second the words left your mouth to hang in the air between you. As if this was the final reckoning of something so delicate. The question had been building for days since he brought you with him. Something to explain that maybe…this wasn’t just a frivolous one time fling that he’d forget about soon after you returned home. But nothing ever came. It seemed he was more interested in showing you off to everyone else, rather than letting you in.

“You’re here for dinner of course.” He smiled, offered you his hand, and faltered when you didn’t take it. When you stood where you were with a somber look in your eyes.

The green color flared to life beside you again, reflecting his emotions and finally giving you an insight into his mind. But it wasn’t enough.

You wanted to know how he felt. What was he too scared to tell anyone? Perhaps he might let you in on it. But Loki had always been closed off even to those he cared about and you didn’t want to be simply another person he tried to love. You needed more than empty words and flowery promises. As you watched him come up with something to say you could see it. He knew that this wasn’t enough; that you wouldn’t be wooed by parties you had no place in with people you held no interest for.

“I think it’s time for me to go home.” You bit down on the inside of your cheek to stop the tears from starting up again.

“My darling—”

“I don’t belong here Loki,” you admitted. “Everyone in there can see that I am not one of you.”

His gaze turned sharp. “One of us?”

“You know what I mean. I’m not a god.” You stood a bit straighter as if facing the oncoming battle.

“So you think because you aren’t Asgardian that we will think less of you? That I would…” He snapped his mouth shut, eyes darker than you were used to seeing them.

“No!”

“Don’t believe for a second that I brought you here under false pretenses—”

“Then why did you bring me?” you exclaimed. “Because it certainly doesn’t feel like you actually want me here. You left me alone in there! As if I was meant to be shown off for some Asgardian amusement.”

He stepped forward, crowding into your space and like the stubborn human you were…you stood your ground. His lips quirked up slightly, admiration flaring in his eyes before that too was stolen away.

“You forget. I am not Asgardian.”

You scoffed, rising up to meet him—your nose brushing so close to his that you could feel his breath against your face. “That is not who I saw in there.”

His eyes dropped to your lips. The darkness from before returning with a vigor that stole your breath away. No matter how much you wanted to remain upset, you couldn’t deny the pull that existed between you. The longing you felt in your heart. Loki released a shuddered breath as his eyes dragged back to yours and something raw clicked into place.

Cupping your cheek, he dragged you forward until his lips met yours. Loki always kissed you as if this was his last time, as if he would never know the sweet taste of oxygen without you. You were the soothing balm against his wounds that refused to close. A piece of serenity in a place that bred nothing but chaos. He dragged you closer, no longer hesitant to lick into your mouth and drag out a moan, because what else did he have to lose?

You knew the malice that existed in him—had seen it first hand. Yet even that wasn’t enough to turn you away from this.

To make you flee from the man who viewed himself as a monster.

“Loki,” you sighed, fingers digging into the leather beneath his armor. It was as soft as his touch, the scent intoxicating you the longer you stood there.

“Don’t…” He could feel the hesitation in your kiss. The uncertainty in your touch.

You still remained unsure of what he wanted from you; what this actually meant to him. And even though he wanted to proclaim it loud enough for you to hear, he knew that you’d never truly understand the depths of his emotions. Loki had always believed he would remain alone in his life. A lost soul doomed to wander the universe for all eternity, but when he met you he hoped that for a moment…he would finally feel the warmth of the sun against his skin once more.

He hoped he would feel alive again.

“You are…” Warm tears fell against your cheeks and he wiped them away gently. “You’re the one I want to be with. The one I choose.” You cupped his hand in yours, desperate to keep his touch against your skin. “But I am not immortal.”

“We gods die too.”

You smiled. “Not in the way humans do.”

Silence washed over the both of you. A solemn understanding that began to infiltrate even his mind. And thus was the irony of love. Two souls so tragically different that even death would keep you apart until the very end of time. You almost laughed, but knew that the situation would only be ruined by it.

“I need to go home where I belong.”

“You belong—”

“I don’t belong with gods Loki. I never have. And no matter how much you want that to change it can’t.”

Within seconds you watched his walls begin to close up again, pulling back any sense of emotion he once showed. Until you were right back where you started. Alone in the middle of a world that didn’t deem you worthy to stand on it. You were the outsider looking in. A mortal who got a chance to dine with the gods of old and briefly pretend you were one of them.

“So you choose them.”

An ache sprouted in your chest, spreading down to the very tips of your fingers. Until you swore you couldn’t breathe. A necessary evil to stave off the heartbreak of what would eventually come down the road.

“My love…”

He pulled away, standing stiff and face void of any emotion. “That word doesn’t belong to me. Not anymore.” Turning slightly, he roughly wiped at his cheek to hide the tears. Meanwhile you allowed them to fall freely. “I once imagined you loved me a little bit, if you’ll excuse the presumption.”

With a final look—eyes filled with a plea to say something—he relented. He nodded his head, took in a large breath, and turned back towards the steps. Once again leaving you behind as he returned to a world you’d never fully understand. You watched him go, a sob wracking your body as he took with him a love that only came around once in a lifetime. As he took part of your soul.

The flames returned to their natural orange glow, once again emitting a warmth that should have flooded your body. But all you felt was the cold touch of a lover lost to you for good.

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki laufesyon x reader #loki laufeyson x you #loki #loki of asgard #my writing #a dream within a dream week🍷

[sarahscribbles]

𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐋𝐨𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐚𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡?

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏𝟐𝟑𝟑

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The double doors to your Sakaarian penthouse swing open on a dramatic whoosh of air just as you’re poking through the large box that the Grandmaster has had delivered to the room. This one is just as intricately ornate as the others but filled with a twinkling display of elaborate earrings and is one of many that have arrived in the hands of a steady stream of colourful servants over the past few days.

At least, you think it’s been days. Or has it been weeks? It’s impossible to tell how long you’ve been stranded on this ridiculous excuse of a planet, but the steady stream of obscenely opulent boxes - filled with trinkets, silks, and other gaudy decorations - suggests that the Grandmaster is setting you up for a life on Sakaar. 

That, or he wants you to be his dress up doll. 

Frankly, you aren’t sure which scenario is worse.

You don’t lift your eyes from the glittering sea of precious gems sitting before you - you’ve counted rubies, sapphires, and amethysts so far - even as those distinctive heavy footsteps come to a sudden stop behind you. There’s no need to, really; if said footsteps striding down the hallway weren’t already a give away then the growing warmth of your mother’s locket certainly was.

The little gold oval is now emitting an impressive warmth against your bare skin, acting as almost a comfort and a warning. 

It was him. 

You can feel the heavy weight of his gaze on your back and when you do glance up at his reflection in the mirror, you catch the brief second of his eyes raking over you. A faint surge of pride ripples through your veins.

“What are you wearing?” he sneers, that deep voice dripping with open contempt. 

The Sakaarian equivalent of a towel is wrapped under your arms, but it’s so outrageously skimpy that it barely covers more than your behind and leaves your bare legs on full display. You watch his reflection in the mirror, not missing the brief twitch of his jaw and flex of his fingers.

How interesting.

“It’s a towel, though perhaps such a thing is too civilised for your barbaric Asgardian mind to recognise,” you bite back, watching his green eyes narrow in the mirror. 

He raises a perfectly groomed eyebrow and his lip curls. “A generous title considering - “ He stops suddenly, but his eyes drift to rest on the hem that barely falls to the middle of your thighs. “Perhaps calling it a handkerchief would be more fitting.” 

The disgust is so palpable in his voice that it sends a sudden rage surging through you. This man - this spoiled, pretentious ass - is behaving as though the lack of proper amenities on this trash heap of a planet is somehow your fault.

“Would you rather I forgo it, then? Perhaps I should simply wander around this prison cell nude? Would that appease you?” you throw back, slamming down the lid of the box so hard that the mirror on the wall above briefly shakes. 

He scoffs - loudly - from where he’s moved to mix himself a drink at the little bar in the kitchen. “Heavens, no. There are already enough ghastly sights to have to endure here, wouldn’t you agree?” He raises the glass to his lips, keeping his eyes on you as if daring you to bite. 

You can feel the warm flush of humiliation creep along your neck, but you don’t stand down and pin him with an icy glare. “Go to Hel, Loki.”

The use of his name is like a perfectly aimed arrow. He sets his glass down with force, sploshing amber liquid all over the white bartop, and advances toward you in a way that’s meant to be intimidating. His green eyes flash dangerously, but you only tilt your nose in the air. You’ve got the upper hand here, and it’s all thanks to Scrapper arriving a few days ago with an embellished envelope that had his name scrawled across the front. 

You had answered the door and she had pushed the small little square into your hands, letting her fingers linger a second more than what was normal.

“A little invitation from the Grandmaster,” she had purred in that hypnotic voice and again ran her eyes appreciatively over you.

But you quickly shake the memory of her gaze from your mind. 

“I’d be careful with my threats if I were you. You know not who you’re dealing with, Princess,” he spits, each word laced and dripping with venom. 

It’s the only thing he knows about you - your royal status - and you know it infuriates him. Despite his threats, you’ve refused to tell him your name or that you’re Princess of Vanaheim and second in line to the throne. It’s the only thing you have to hold over him, and you refuse to give it up. 

He continues his measured approach towards you - all slow steps and narrowed eyes - and the memory of a blade whizzing past your head makes you summon a ball of orange flame in your palm. 

“Do you think I’m scared of the Grandmaster’s pet?” you mock him with a condescending little laugh. “You’re nothing more than his pretty little peacock. Tell me, how did you manage to escape becoming one of his competitors, hmm?” you sneer and let your eyes flick to his leather clad crotch. 

Like an animal cornered, he bares his teeth and makes to lunge toward you, but he’s barely taken a step when you send your ball of fire hurtling towards him. The force of it sends him staggering backwards and he looks at you with raw anger etched in every line of his face. 

He doesn’t take another step towards you and that’s when you realise. 

He’s scared of you. Terrified, if his defensive stance is anything to go by. 

Your lips quirk into a satisfied smile. “If we’re quite finished with this little display, I have a soiree to dress for,” you say, all feigned sweetness and charming smile. 

You hear his small noise of disbelief as you pad across the room towards the bathroom, and even that is enough to have fresh sparks dance on the tip of your fingertips. 

“You’ll forgive me if I struggle to believe that. Who in the Nine would want you in attendance at a soiree?” he seethes. 

It’s an insult so weak that it rolls easily off your back. “The Grandmaster if you must know. Although, he wants me to attend because he enjoys my company, not because I’ve stooped so low as to warm his bed.”

The glimmer of silver catches your eyes, but he doesn’t take aim. He remembers what happened the last time. 

“You are the most loathsome woman I have ever had the misfortune to encounter,” he all but growls as you reach the bathroom door. His eyes are flashing dangerously and you can tell by the twitch of his fingers that he’s itching to run you through with his blade. 

You turn in the doorway and flash him an overly bright smile. “Careful, Loki. Any more of those charming compliments and I may fall in love with you.” You slide the doors closed before he has the chance to respond. 

With a racing heart, you wait for the sound of metal impacting on the door. It never comes. 

Like you said, he’s terrified.

#loki #loki x reader #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic

[nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius]

Loki S02E5 ramblings

I know I've been super inconsistent about doing these but ah well

the eerie quiet music on the credits is cool but honestly they could have gone a much more eldritch route with it and I'm disappointed

Where'd everyone go??

Ohh this is spooky

TIME SLIPPING AGAIN

Oh good we get more slutty hair flips

So the TVA didn't get destroyed?

um

UM

I RESCIND THAT STATEMENT LOKI RUN

Ooh prison break

Okay but B-15 would be the best doctor

MOBIUS JET SKI TIME LET'S GO

His name is Don??

HE HAS A SON???

OB trying to buy his own books just made me so sad. Ke Huy is so good at invoking feels

PFFT LOKI FLATTENED HIM

I think OB might be one of my favourite characters

This may be the classic "believe in yourself" trope but I don't even care

COME ON LOKI YOU'RE A GOD

Awww his kids are cute

Snakes you say??

Aight Mobius is definitely hitting on him

OB YOU KING

Your wife didn't deserve you anyway

Wait. Where's Sylvie??

He time-slipped to the McDonald's once but that was it

So will Sylvie still remember she's an enchantress?

I think they're both missing the fact that THEY'RE ALL GONNA DIE IF THE TVA IS GONE

oh my god

oh my god stop

WELL NOW I'M FUCKING SAD

Loki honey do you need a hug

Sylvie you're really starting to sound pretentious

SYLVIE

SYLVIE TURN AROUND

Goddd that scene was so well-done

UM WHERE DID CASEY GO

COME ON LOKI

WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?? THINK

THAT'S MY BOYYYY

LOKI THIS IS VERY SUSPENSEFUL AND ALL BUT CAN YOU HURRY UP THEY'RE GONNA GET TURNED INTO FETTUCINE IN A BIT

I LOVED THAT AHHHHH

#morgan's live slug reaction #loki spoilers #loki series #loki season 2

[xalygatorx]

A Very Worthy Christmas 1: The Controversy of Icing

Christmassy bonus chapters for Worthy (posted a bit early because we're sneaking up on that time of year)!

All take place after the main story, so if you don't want spoilers, save these for a cozy, snowy day. x

Summary: We catch up a bit with what Loki and Cora's domestic life has looked like for the past two years following the end of Worthy's main storyline. Loki is banished again, this time from the kitchen, and educated on his similarities to the Grinch. Cora suggests that they spend Christmas with Thor, Jane, and their young son Erik, and Loki reluctantly agrees.

Pairing: Loki x Fem!OC

Warnings: None

Word Count: ~1.9k

"Stop being a shit and help."

Loki grimaced and flicked a glance at her from under his brow, which was one of the many pretentious reactions he still threw her way. "I might consider it more thoroughly were you to, as you say, 'ask me nicely'."

"I did ask you nicely," Cora grumbled, moving her bangs out of her eyes and smudging her forehead with powdered sugar in the process. "Like five times. There's a limit to my niceness."

"So I've discovered…," Loki sighed, prodding an egg boredly and almost sending it rolling off the countertop. Cora snatched it before it could fall, much to the God of Mischief's disappointment, and had to focus all her energy on setting it gently on the counter when she felt like slamming it. That would've amused the man on the barstool across from her and that was the last thing she was interested in doing at the moment.

"You seem to reach that limit fairly easily," she murmured as she measured out a cup of flour from its container.

"Funny, your grandmother found me charming," he said with a triumphant smirk and Cora nearly indulged her urge to retrieve the egg and break it over one of his sharp, annoying cheekbones, which she only found annoying in this moment because he, as a whole, was mighty annoying today.

It was true, her grandmother was very pleased with Loki, though she thought his name was a bit offbeat. Cora had neglected to mention his general otherworldly godliness, but she had the feeling her grandma had gotten an inkling that he was different, much like Cora, herself, was. She hadn't said a word though, as it had been the holiday for gorging oneself and getting along harmoniously with an assortment of relatives and, though her grandma wouldn't have had an issue with him one way or another as long as Cora was content, Cora's uncle was a different story.

She'd shown up the day before Thanksgiving less than a month prior and after extensive deliberation, Cora had brought Loki with her in normal clothes, or as he'd insisted, "plain Midgardian frocks." She knew she was setting herself up for something nightmarish, but the majority of her focus had been on seeing her sweet, lovable old grandmother, whom she didn't see nearly enough with the gargantuan distance between their residences. They'd taken a plane—which Loki hadn't been all that sure about, especially when he could probably just teleport them—and had made it to their hotel before her nerves had really set in.

However, she'd walked in ahead of Loki, her grandma had taken one look at him, and then told her, "Why, Cora, you really snagged yourself a looker."

In that same instant, Cora had nearly choked and Loki had decided he rather liked the tiny, elderly Midgardian woman.

Her uncle had been less agreeable and had engaged in multiple, petty staredowns with Loki across the table or whatever they happened to be standing at, particularly at Thanksgiving dinner when they'd begun passive-aggressively debating who should carve. Loki had shown zero interest in it until Cora's uncle had mentioned it being something only the "man of the house" could do. Then it was game on, apparently. All of that after Cora had calmly asked to speak with her uncle privately and then half-screamed at him for working with SHIELD and leading her to believe her grandma was dead over a year prior since she hadn't seen him before then to really hash it out.

Idiots, Cora had thought then and again now as she recounted the evening. It hadn't been a disaster; hell, it could've been a lot worse. But it had been tense, much to the amusement of her grandma, which had softened her to the conflict incrementally throughout the visit. They'd departed on as fine of terms as expected and Loki had even stooped down to hug old Christina Dempsey—who was half his size—before they left. It was nice to have him meet her only real family in her world. Speaking of which…

"I think we should invite your brother over for Christmas."

It was like she'd dropped a soundproof box around the two of them. The utter silence even permeated the small noise of her scraping excess flour off the brim of her measuring cup, which was a strange act of nature she'd not experienced before. "Cora—"

"It'll be fun, Loki, come on!" she hurried to persist, stepping over to the sink. One of the strangest parts of being in the normal—relatively normal—world again was how much her budget had skyrocketed from the generosity of Asgard's king. He'd shown his gratitude to her for whatever she'd done that had mattered most to him—whether it be her influence on Loki or her aid in the midst of the Ragnarök—by giving her a cartful of Asgardian gold, most of which she'd parted with for a few high-standing museums interested in educating people about the other realms now that their existence was common knowledge. What had been left had put her bank balance in an eight-figure range she'd been depleting incrementally with occasional purchases and donations to charities.

She'd first purchased a new car because her old one was still somewhere in Arizona with an arrow in the driver's side handle. Then she'd moved out of her apartment for a slightly nicer one without a whiny roommate. Well… With a different whiny roommate, this one whom she was madly in love with. Then had come adding Midgardian wear to Loki's wardrobe, replacing a few things that needed to be replaced, and getting whatever else proved necessary for their new living situation. "Jane can come, and they can bring Erik, too!"

It had been a little over two years since the Ragnarök and, in that time, Thor and Jane had welcomed their first child into their finally happy home. Cora had helped where she could, but it was mostly Darcy—now Aunt Darcy—who had stuck around the happy couple and had helped with everything since she'd gone through the same with her older sister already. None of them, however, had been able to come up with a suitable name for the baby until the day he was born in early December, which was when Jane had quietly declared that she wanted to name him after Dr. Selvig, in honor of the sacrifice he'd made to give her a chance at the life she'd dreamt of since slamming into a banished Thor with their van.

He grimaced a bit. "I'm never going to get used to that name being used for someone other than her scientist friend."

"I think it's nice. It is hard though, even though he's a year old and I should be used to it by now."

"Perhaps we should grow accustomed to it before we—" He paused when he saw the look on her face. "What is all this for, anyway? Why invite them now?"

"Because it'll be Christmas in…," she paused to gauge how much time they actually had. "A little over three weeks."

"Christmas?" he repeated dubiously, his green eyes a bit murky with confusion.

Cora paused heavily and squinted at him as she tried to think of a way to explain it. "…Yuletide?"

"Oh, why didn't you say so?" Loki said. "Midgardians celebrate the hunt?"

"The tradition has been very altered from what you know, more than likely," she figured. "What does it mean to you?"

"Well, Yuletide signifies the wild hunt Odin has led for millennia," he explained.

"Did you celebrate it in Asgard?"

Loki glanced at her hands thoughtfully as she cracked a few eggs on the rim of her mixing bowl. "We feasted, but we did that a fair amount. Apart from that, I just remember Mother insisting that we dress more formally than usual, which was somewhat difficult to do given that we already dressed fairly formally…"

Cora smiled a little sadly, able to picture Frigga fussing over them very easily. "Here we do some feasting, but we also have gift exchanges and decorate a tree… And make cookies, obviously," she remarked, nodding at her handiwork so far.

"Is that what you're doing?"

"What the hell does it look like I'm doing?"

Loki licked his fingertip and dabbed it in powdered sugar on the counter. "Making a mess," he mumbled as he tapped it to his tongue, soon wincing with distaste when it turned out to be baking powder.

"Well… I guess I'm doing that, too," she murmured. When he met her eyes, she frowned and repeated a bit more amiably, "I think we should invite your brother over for Christmas."

Loki stared at her for a length of time. "I can't promise we will get along."

"That's a yes," she grinned, plugging in the mixer and sticking the beaters in the mess of ingredients.

"I did not say—" Loki was cut off by Cora turning on the beaters, which whirred loudly through the amounts of egg, flour, and assorted dry components. He waited until she'd cut the power and started to go back on what he'd said again, but she looked him directly in the eyes and powered up the mixer again, cutting him off a second time. He frowned at her and tried one more time, only to be muted completely this time as she turned on the mixer and started going at the bowl until it was filled with batter for the second time that night. She'd pulled the first batch from the oven ten minutes ago and now turned to the stove to check them.

Cora smiled, pleased, and announced, "I think these are ready to be iced." She didn't realize her fatal mistake of language until she saw the deviant grin spread the lips of the god at her breakfast bar out of the corner of her eye and then the cookies were encased in frost.

After his little stunt, Loki was banished to the living room, where Cora had parked him on the couch and put on How the Grinch Stole Christmas for him to watch while he stewed in "missing out on some crazy cookie fun." Loki occasionally glanced toward the kitchen doorway, catching glimpses of the fiery woman whenever she had to rearrange her baking station, but also watched the strange animation she'd put on the television. He'd learned more about television since moving in with her, but it rarely interested him as much as reading or going out to explore the city. Or teasing her, really.

When this "Grinch" being pulled an exceptionally wrinkly face, Cora paused in the doorway and pointed at the screen. "See that? That's what you are."

"I do not see the dilemma, I find him…it…rather agreeable."

She scoffed softly. "You would."

"Am I allowed back in the kitchen?"

She squinted at him and asked slowly, "Will you behave?"

"I am not a child, Cora."

"Sometimes I'm not so sure."

He smirked and dragged a glance over her before remarking, "You seemed sure last night."

Cora simultaneously blushed and glared and it was the most conflicted expression he'd ever seen on her, so conflicted he lost his composure and laughed. "No, you sit there, finish your movie, and then maybe you can come back. Maybe. I'm not sure anymore after that."

He chuckled and watched her go before turning his eyes back onto the screen, knowing he wouldn't take orders from anyone else in all the Nine.

A holiday with Thor and his little family…, he pondered somewhat seriously after sobering a few moments later. I never could have anticipated this happening. Then again, what have I anticipated correctly about my future in these past four years.

Next chapter: A Very Worthy Christmas 2, Untraditional Traditions

#loki laufeyson #loki x fem!oc #loki x oc #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki fluff #thor odinson #thor movies #thor the dark world #avengers #marvel cinematic universe

[daffodil--lament]

caoimhin 2022 reading wrap up

- Gideon the Ninth & Harrow the Ninth - good. made me insane. read them basically cover to cover. awesome

- The Hobbit - 10/10 it's the fuckin hobbit man. this was of course a re-read because I'm cultured

- The Great Gatsby - cool. enjoyed. also a re-read. so true fitzgerald materialism is bad. I love gay people

- Dogsbody - so good. dwj's ability to balance the themes of her stories always gets me. I need to read more of her books

- Howl's Moving Castle - I've read it more than 10 times in the last two years I love it so much 10000/10

- A Study In Charlotte - I love me some sherlock holmes. I love autism. I love people who are fucked up. enjoyed it as much as I did when I was 13

- Castle In The Air - hmc sequel. gets better every re-read. dwj poses an earth shattering question: what if all your favorite characters got even stupider? (this is about prince justin. he's the worst I love him)

- A River Runs Through It - destroyed me. holy shit. I finished that last page and had to go lay down for awhile. I was thinking about it for days. I am haunted by waters. god. good lord almighty.

- House of Many Ways - MASSIVE tone shift from a river runs through it. Charmain is a bitch and I like her so much. twinkle sucks. 9 million out of ten I love you Sophie Pendragon

- Howl's Moving Castle - by the time you finish homw you have to start hmc again to distract yourself from the series ending. howl and sophie were holding one another's hands and smiling and smiling quite unable to stop. I'm gonna pass out

- Hamlet - fuckin classic duh. I read this for the first time in seventh grade because I'm better than everyone. there's a reason it's one of the most widely known pieces of literature ever written

- Pride and Prejudice - also better every time I read it. Jane Austen is a genius. I wish I had an Elizabeth to my Darcy

- The Lightning Thief - percy jackson my beloved

- Sea of Monsters - retweet

- Storm Front - harry dresden is a bitch

- Fool Moon - harry dresden gets grievously injured, still manages to kill people

- Grave Peril - michael carpenter my beloved

- Summer Knight - karrin murphy btw (she is not enjoying herself)

- Death Masks - I love small children who carry great magical power

- Persuasion - Jane Austen I love you. I played minecraft prolifically while I listened to this book. it was so good. genuinely amazing. love love love

- Loki: Agent of Asgard - I always start this and I'm like "ha ha funny comic book" and then by the end I'm completely decimated. the art is so cool and I love watching it change throughout the run. conceptually the whole story and premise are so amazing. I can't really explain the extent of how good it is and do it justice. it's just awesome

- Pride and Prejudice - I forgot that I read this twice but if it's on the list you'd better be damn sure it happened

- The Raven Boys - I love pretentious glasses-wearing teenage boys (me irl)

- Patriot Games - the Harrison Ford movie is better but it was chill ig.

- Dream Thieves - fuck shit up little man

- Blue Lily, Lily Blue - popular among welsh voices in my head

- Murder on the Orient Express - AMAZING. I love hercule poirot so much. although I sort of knew the general ending, having seen, you know, literally any TV show made in the last 100 years, I was really surprised and pleased with the way the whole novel unfolded itself. awesome

- The Raven King - honestly awesome ending to the series. thoroughly enjoyed

- Rebecca - books that changed me at age 8. not sure why my mother chose to give me this book at that age but I'm forever glad she did. Rebecca is dead the entire story and she haunts it more than any ghost could. Spectacular. something about Mrs de Winter's name never being told to us or said out loud, but Rebecca's name being EVERYWHERE.... fantastic

- Blood Rites - I LOVE YOU THOMAS

- Never Let Me Go - I understand why this was award winning and I think I will never read it again

- Howl's Moving Castle - what better way to end my year. howl said I think we ought to live happily ever after and sophie thought he meant it. also I got the fancy illustrated hardcover version for Christmas and I am so happy. I will not be lending it to anyone ever. it's my baby.

#hmc #reading #books #keys.txt

[wheelercore]

Back on my bullshit of coming up with much more mundane theories for motifs in ST sowwy... But Prisoners and it's influence on ST still exists in my head RENT FREE and I have to spill it out somewhere.

I'll admit I don't know much about the time travel theories in the fandom but I was thinking about what else the time/clock symbolism in ST (esp surrounding Will) could mean and some math is mathing but unfortunately it's much more boring and pretentious than time travel skaksksk.

The main two occurances that come to mind being the Creel grandfather clock with the name William on it and Will being coincidentally dressed like Marty McFly in s1 when he gets taken by the demogorgon/Henry/whatever. Will is associated with going back in time to the past repeatedly in the show, which definitely isnt a concidence but it also may not be literal.

The Duffers confirmed that Prisoners was the initial inspiration for ST, as in whatever they took from the movie is most likely of a large thematic scale- although there is also very obvious yet small details included reminiscent of Prisoners.

(@emblazons has insanely detailed posts on this so PLEASE go check it out).

One of the larger themes of the movie being that people are often trapped in a cycle (or a prison, hence the title) of their own trauma and horrible experiences, which can affect their behavior in the future in times of stress. Example: abusive cycles as we see with Neil, Billy, and Max. Victor Creel regressing back into a soldier most likely due to his PTSD when he thinks his family is being antagonized by a demon. Cycles, regression, reverting to your past self and never healing from trauma, those are huge themes of BOTH Prisoners and ST.

Brenner even says it himself to El:

Often what people witness can make them regress.

(not the exact wording probably but that's just the gist).

Not only does Prisoners have characters with pasts that affect how they behave in stressfull times (aka they regress to past behavior when they are triggered- Keller with his father's suicide and Loki with his dodgy past in a boys home (?)) there are also characters who literally regress due to trauma.

Alex and Bob, the two characters who were most suspected of the girls disappearance. Alex is mentally ten because he was that age when Holly kidnapped him and she's been keeping his hostage ever since. Bob was also kidnapped by Holly but escaped after 3 weeks, but the scars on his psyche remain as he obsessively recreates child abductions similar to his own. Both these characters mentally regressed- they never grew past what happened to them. But for them it's much more obvious and they are targeted, unlike other ""normal"" people like Keller and Holly who both present as good Christians (well I supposed ex Christian for Holly) and "normal" members of this community.

Holly's kidnapping of Anna and Joy definitely is what inspired the plotline of S1 of ST. Why did Holly kidnap Anna and Joy? Why was she kidnapping children at all? Well she's fucking insane first of all, but the more appropriate answer is that she never let go of the past. She was constantly recreating what happened to her and her son, intentionally, with other families. It was a never ending cycle with no real purpose other than to do unto others what was done to her in the past. The trauma of losing her son and her faith literally drove her insane and she doesn't move on from that.

To extend that meaning to Will's kidnapping in ST and whoever masterminded it (maybe Henry but idk we'll see in s5) perhaps having the same intentions as Holly has in Prisoners... As in, repeatedly recreating their own past experiences. His Marty McFly outfit when he is kidnapped- a character that is literally transported to the past. Also the Creel clock moving backwards with "William" on it. But not Will's past, someone else's past, and Will was the doll used to do so, traumatizing him like Holly traumatized mutliple families and her victims.

Mind you this reasoning is all metaphorical so it may not be super substantial as time travel but it really lines up for me in how Will is also written post being rescued. It's much more subtle than Alex and Bob's regression but its there. Dr. Owens saying that Will may have PTSD, a disorder defined by people having trouble recovering from a past event. Will's resistance to "growing up" because he felt like his childhood was stolen from him by trauma in the past while the rest of his friends are moving on to "less childish" "grown" things. His Castle Byers moment where he literally destroyed a symbol of his past childhood. Also how this is interwoven with Will's sexuality and how men who were uninterested in women at that time were seen as childish and immature. It's all a metaphor for struggling to get past trauma, played out in Will.

I wouldn't be surprised if the Duffers derived inspo for Will loosely from Alex or Bob. Not only in the regression aspect but also in the aspect that all these characters are deemed "obviously different" and therefore picked on by others in the story.

#henry creel #will byers #prisoners x st #stranger things

[nerdby]

So I am nonbinary transgender. Just FYI. I'm not on hormones -- I was but not anymore -- but I am socially transitioning-ish. I got my name legally changed, and I filed in October 2023 to get my birth certificate corrected so that I could move. Because I'm disabled and I only make $12,000USD a year -- that's below the national poverty line in the US. And the starting rent in my area is $900-1,000USD, so I don't make enough to afford an apartment that doesn't include utilities.

I have no choice but to live in subsidized housing because that's all I can afford. The apartment I'm in now -- there's no heat in my bedroom and there hasn't been the entire four years I've lived here. When I told the landlord they gave me a space heater that didn't even last the entire year. Two years ago my kitchen ceiling caved in after a freak blizzard, so now when it rains or snows I'm terrified that it will happen again. The entire building has been treated for bedbugs like six times between 2023-2024. And the weather stripping came off the inside door to my balcony which is right off the living room. When I told the landlord they gave me some insulation foam that had come from an AC unit. It didn't even last a week, so now even though there is technically heat in the living room whenever there's a snowstorm the room turns freezing and you can feel the wind. It's pretty common to get 19mph winds here.

I surrendered my cats because I was terrified that living here -- living with me -- was making them sick or that they'd freeze to death, and also because I have a lot of asthma-related health problems. I guess I've always been asthmatic, but I wasn't diagnosed until 2023 just because my mom is a neglectful piece of shit. And I started doing research about asthma to try and improve my health, and I started reading all these stuff about how asthmatics shouldn't have cats or pets. And I was afraid it was going make me hate them, and I was afraid something bad was going to happen to them. Because of me and because of this place.

Because I've been through so much trauma living here. Aside from the ceiling caving in, I survived two building fires here. Once they evacuated the building because a resident had died and no one realized it until like three weeks later, but the landlord thought the smell was coming from a gas leak. I know -- it sounds like a bad urban legend, right?😂Oh, and that's without even taking into account the three fucking years worth of hate mail and death threats all because I pointed out that Loki is canonically nonbinary transgender and bisexual. For three years I sat in this fucking hellhole pretending to be okay while people said horrific things to me and some uptight pretentious asshole dragged me through the mud because they can't comprehend the fact that being trans does not make you incapable of being transphobic.

And I never wanted to surrender my cats. I knew my mental health was getting worse and worse. Because lucky me, I'm self aware -- according to my doctors anyway -- but I'm not. I'm really not. My plan was to get us out of here, so I wouldn't have to be constantly reminded of the trauma I endured here. And so that we could have a safe place to live. So I wouldn't have to be half-asleep every night because I was worried something awful would happen and we'd all freeze to death.

But I didn't make it that long.

Good news, though: My amended birth certificate finally got here today. I can finally move. I can move to a new hellhole in a new ghetto, and now I won't even have my cats to share it with. Because they were everything to me. I spent my whole life raising my siblings and caring for my grandfather. My mom comes to me for financial and relationship advice, and I have shitty finances. I wouldn't know how to do anything without books or the internet.

I used to pick out my sister's outfits and empty her potty and read to her and color with her and wash her dishes, and keep her safe at the babysitters because they never really watched us cause they were too busy with their own kids. I picked out her name, and I was the one there when she took her first steps. I used to get into screaming fits with our mom when she hit her. And when that didn't work I turned our mother in to child protective services three times, and when I came home from Florida after running off to get married and to get away from the abuse I made sure my mother knew I was the one who turned her in. That way she knew that if the state didn't do anything the first time, I would make damn sure they paid attention if she ever hurt my sister again.

I bought my sister's laptop for school, I've bought groceries for her and my mother, I taught her about comic books and witchcraft and we promised to get tattoos together one day. And now she practices witchcraft and binges anime, and we used to have MCU marathons that lasted days at a time. I introduced her to Harley Quinn and Batman and horror movies.

Now, I can't have kids so I had cats instead. Because I've always had cats ever since I was a little girl. I love them and I love taking care of them and training them because cats are so smart they're like little people. When Tesla was annoyed with me or wanted attention she used to unplug the Internet router for fuck's sake. And Shuri and I had been together since 2017. For a long time, she was the only good thing in my life.

So now the new certificate is here and they're not... What's the fucking point?

#im crying #im not okay #my life #life updates #my childhood #adulthood #adulting #lgbt #nonbinary #enby #catlovers #parentification #ptsd #disabled #actually disabled #actually ptsd #i hate this #i need help

[mischiefmodig]

A VERY DESCRIPTIVE PROFILE OF YOUR MUSE

NAME: Loki Laufeyson Odinson

NICKNAME(S): Brother

ALIAS(ES): Prince of Asgard, God of Mischief, Brother of Thor, Liesmith, Heir of Jotunheim, Son of Odin, Son of Laufey

AGE: 25 ( appearance ), 1,052 ( at death )

SPECIES: Jotunar ( appears Asgardian )

PRONOUNS: He/Him

ORIENTATION: Bisexual

ZODIAC: Pices ( headcanon birthday Feb. 9th/Mar 15th )

MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Neutral ( depends on the day )

INTERESTS: Reading, Sorcerery, Theater, Mischief, Conquering, Daggers, People Watching, History, Problem-Solving/Causing

FEARS: Being alone, Being left behind, Not being enough, The monster that he thinks he is, being perceived as weak/helpless, and then being judged for that

GUILTY PLEASURES: Alcohol, Musicals, Gambling, Pranks

SPOKEN LANGUAGES: Asgardian ( Old Norse ), English, Latin, and I would assume other languages of Earth tbh, and other alien ones but they aren't confirmed

PROFESSION: Prince ( King Briefly ), Tactician, Trouble Maker ( 25/8 )

BODY TYPE: Well built but slender. Really has the body type of a swimmer/ice skater/gymnast where he's very quick, stealthy, light on his feet, and flexible. He's very healthy and stronger than an average man even without his alien strength

HEIGHT: 6′2"

COLORS: Black ( primary ), Green ( secondary ), Gold, and occasionally steely silver, and may occasionally complement with white

DRINKS: Teas, Juice sometimes, Can be pressed for Coffee

ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES: Mead, Wine ( he's pretentious about it and everything ), Rum, Vodka

SMOKES: Nah

DRIVERS LICENSE: No, not technically, but he is a skilled pilot

EVER BEEN ARRESTED: HAHA yeah. House arrest is the worst

#( meme . ) \ / the god of mischief . #( hc . ) \ / you think so little of me ? #I cannot stress enough how much he is a problem child

[arithecreatorsstuff]

Overheard Rejection Line in the Local Tavern, Or That's a Million Koin Insult if I Ever Heard One

Context: I'm a barmaid in a popular tavern near the Palace. We get all kinds in here, royals to rogues. Sometimes, connections happen. But sometimes, rejection stings worse than a bitch slap from Queen Sheeva.

It's late at night, not late enough that we stop serving drinks, but the kitchen is shut down. There's a few people at the bar, including a couple (in his mind, anyway), of upper class types. The man thinks himself some kind of prince, judging by all the gold jewelry and purple silk. Must be Edenian, they're the only people who manage to look like high-class pole dancers just to get drunk. The woman, though... while wealthy, she's also got enough class not to flaunt it. Her clothes are at least covering enough to be decent, well tailored, and good quality. Yeah... the Purple Would-Be Prince isn't going to charm her, she's already shooting daggers at him with her eyes alone. He won't concede defeat, yet. But... she's not amused. A good barmaid would intervene. A sensible barmaid would flag down someone to back her up beforehand. Before I can do even that, the woman has Prince Nothing pinned to the bar, dagger in hand.

"Listen to me, you deluded refugee from a gentleman's brothel. You. Are. Not. My. Type. I've seen more fashion sense in actual exotic dancers, your personality is more repulsive than a decaying, fetid pile of manure left in a swamp, and I would sooner spend an evening as Baraka's entrée than one more moment listening to your self important, insane drivel. If you do not leave me alone, I swear to Frigga I'm going to cut out your vocal chords and your pathetic excuse for manhood, and nail both of them to the front door of the tavern. Now. Get. The. Hells. Away. From. Me. Now!" She lets him loose, and... he leaves. He brushes by me in his hurry to exit. I approach her to see if she's all right.

"Terribly sorry you had to hear that. My mother tried to raise me to be a proper lady, but my father raised me to be a shieldmaid."

"No apology needed, Miss. It was a pleasure to hear a million koin insult like that."

"You don't care for him either." It was a statement, not a question. And 100% spot on. I didn't like him. He seemed... dodgy.

"Not really. Comes here often, pesters every single woman here like he's Argus's gift to the women of Outworld. I think he's a pretentious twat."

"Good girl. You're a good judge of people. Here's a little bonus for your trouble." She slips me a decent sized pouch, clinking of koin. It's heavy, must be an entire year's wages in there. I hide it in my pocket before my greedy boss sees it.

"Thank you, Miss?" I wait for a name.

"Sigyn, just Sigyn. I quite like you, young lady. I'll be back to check in. It can be a rough world for women, best we stick together."

"You're a wise woman, Sigyn. I look forward to seeing you. And thank you for your gift." I pause a moment. "Wait... Sigyn? Wife of Loki, Sigyn? Goddess of Truth Sigyn?"

"Oh dear. Did I make it so obvious?"

"You're the Goddess of Truth. No mortal can lie to you, right? Well, that jerk slunk out of here looking like he got hit hard with the unfiltered truth. Best part of my week right there."

"It's nice to know that wasn't just enjoyable for me. I think I've had enough of that kind of fun for one night. I'll stop in tomorrow for lunch. Until then, let me know if he comes back. He's a menace to all women."

"I will, and thank you again. Not often I hear a million koin insult, let alone get paid for it. Goodnight, Sigyn." The goddess leaves, we close up. Gotta love living here, you meet all kinds.

#mortal kombat #rain

[sarcastic-salem]

Ok, so first of all

I have altered my screen name so that I can troll recon Pagans

No, not really — I just realized it sounded better without the ever tacked on so I…..Yeah……

In all seriousness, when I wrote my posts about New Age stuff it had nothing to do with racism or star seeds or whatever. Tbh 100% I had no idea that New Age-y stuff even had a history of racism because I only looked at the core concept of the modern movement, and put absolutely no effort into reading about its creators. Why?

Because history is depressing and I don’t need that negativity in my life.

I mean, there are some aspects of history that really interest me. The founding of the New Age movement and Aleister Crowley’s use of human feces in witchcraft is not one of them. Like seriously there’s so much dystopian shit happening in real life right now I’m just gonna stay far, far away from the nonfiction section.

I am not an expert on anything witchcraft or Heathen related.

99.9% of what you read here is my opinion or some article that I found on Google or wherever and skimmed briefly.

Like for the longest time I thought that hundreds of thousands of people died during The Burning Times™️. Cause that’s what I was taught in high school — class of 2008, everybody🤗 And for some reason my tiny, dumbass brain could not process the idea of history changing over the course of a decade.

Btw, there were witch burnings and you can look up the law banning witchcraft on the English parliament website. I think it was repealed at some point??? But it was more like maybe a thousand or less people that died during the witch trials. Most of the documented cases were isolated to England and New England in the US.

Sorry for infodumping😅

But, yeah, no I am not an expert. Which is probably why when I wrote my New Age posts I was using the term “New Age,” sort of like a synonym for witch and/or witchcraft. This is partially because of the terms linkage to witchcraft and to Wicca, and also cause….Recons can be assholes about witchcraft and anyone who practices it.

And I don’t stalk people. Seriously, I have zero interest in making skaldish’s or whoever’s life hell. I just have a knack for pissing people off, and part of it is cause I’m ND and have zero understanding of neurotypical social skills. Like even in real life, I cannot read tone or facial expressions. So its amplified by like a 1,000 on the internet and yes, I am working on it.

The other part is cause I just don’t know when to shut the fuck up. So that’s very helpful.

As far as me changing my blog name to stalk people

Are you people on crack?!

Not everything is about you.

Seriously, I used to run a different Tumblr blog that I made in like 2017 and it was a MCU fanblog. Cause I was gonna write fanfiction and stuff. Then I didn’t

And when I started studying Heathenry I changed the name so everyone would know I’m Loki’s bae🥰 Then in like 2019, I changed the name again because I was harassed by some homophobic TERFs and, ya know, I wanted to avoid that. If possible.

Every time after that, I changed my screen name

Because I wanted to. Because I thought of something that I liked better. And, at one point, to prove that I was trying to be less of an asshole.

It had nothing to do with stalking anyone. I just got bored or wanted to start over. There is no devious plot.

And someone said I attack trans people?

No, dude, its just that being transgender doesn’t automatically mean you’re gonna like or agree with every other trans person that you meet. But if you’re like a transmedicalist or an MRA or one of those self-hating republican trans peeps who worships Kaitlin Jenner, then we’re probably gonna have some disagreements.

Otherwise, I just don’t know and don’t care. I’m not gonna try to defend some argument that I had years ago with someone I don’t even remember. Be mad at me, ok?

Oh, and me harassing skaldish — I’m not gonna lie: I don’t like him. I think he’s a pretentious prick who acts like an authority on Heathenry and being a Lokean cause he knows Scandinavian people and wasn’t raised Christian.

Which is why I have never followed his blog. Cause he pisses me the fuck off.

But a lot of the blogs I interact with reblog his posts, and

You remember how I said I don’t know when to shut the fuck up?

Yeah, that’s where this comes in.

Like 90% of the time I see his posts and just be like, “Cool, that kinda makes sense.” Cause some of the shit he says does make sense.

Then he’ll make a post about how ex-Christians are lesser Heathens cause we view the world through a Christian lens, and I just snap. Like I cannot keep my mouth shut up.

And I think the last post interacted with him was him asking why his posts made people mad and I said, “I think people might get upset when you make sweeping derogatory generalizations about ex-Christians.” And I wasn’t saying it to be an asshole. I was saying it because I think its true. I think he would piss off fewer people if he didn’t do that. But there were moments when I was attempting to have intelligent conversation with him, and it just somehow went downhill. Idk. Its probably best if we don’t talk to each other.

In all seriousness, though if you happen to see this, skaldish, I am truly sorry for everything I have done to you throughout the years to make you feel harassed.

#lokean #norse pantheon #heathenry #norse gods #norse paganism #norse pagan #norse pagan witches #witches #witchcraft #pagans #reconstructionalists #recon pagans #rant #rant post

[gay-fae]

So you know how coffee shop AUs are a big cliche in fanfic? Who’s gonna write the lokius coffee shop fic? It would be so stupid in the best possible way. Two tired middle aged men falling in love over Mobius’s coffee order. Please I need it.

#mobius: yeah I work for the TVA #loki: what’s that? #mobius: True Valiance Accounting #loki: that’s a pretentious name #mobius: *playfully* says the guy named after a god #loki #loki show #mobius m mobius #mobius #lokius #lokius fanfic #lokius fic #coffee shop au #mine

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Fully Completely 1

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), attempted violence, mutual irritation.

This is dark!Loki x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s a new face in Birch and he’s come to haunt your door.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, and Little Bones

Note: I did not plan to get the first part done so soon. I will probably be setting time aside as I write this to also work on some original stuff. When it comes to that, I’d love if y’all might let me know what you think would be a better medium to release it? Kindle, Patreon, etc. I’m really not sure but if it was Patreon it would like be two series running at once with a chapter of each a month + Q&A and maybe some bonus materials? I am a noob at this shit and it wouldn’t be for a while yet.

Anyways, I’m rambling...

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 1: She simply slammed the door

💀💀💀

The garage smelled like oil and snow. The cold air seeped under the closed metal door as you sat on the low stool and affixed the new headlight to the propped up Harley. It was only the start of an impractical rebuild; your brother wanted everything metal replaced with chrome. You thought it was obnoxious but the parts were paid for and you could never complain for money.

You were funded exclusively by the town’s club, your garage not far from The Asp where the members hung out and revved the engines you found yourself looking at more often than you liked. You were good at what you did though and privileged for it. You had the protection of the club without having to devote yourself truly to its bounds.

You checked the wiring and rolled away from the bike to change the station as the radio crackled. The snow kept setting the speaker to static and the noise was driving you mad. You flipped the switch to play the cassette stuck in the drawer, the old stereo beaten up and filthy. Springsteen’s gristled tones filled the shop and you wheeled back to your brother’s ride.

With the storm would no doubt come more work. Your fingerless gloves itched more than they kept you warm. Your fingertips were numb as you touched the frigid metal and the sweat of your palms made the fabric uncomfortable. You were used to it, rather tolerant as your task kept you distracted.

You were interrupted as you bent to look under the tank and get a good look at the exhaust and the rest of the beast’s entrails. You had the new pieces still wrapped and didn’t intend to do it all at once. Jerome could wait for his tacky redesign.

A loud banging came at the metal door and you glanced over in irritation. Anyone in Birch knew to come in the painted door to the left and not hit the large one. You huffed and stood with a groan, your hips sore from the low stool. 

You fixed the front of your fleece-lined denim jacket and pulled the tail of your plaid shirt from inside your jean pocket. You’d been hunched over so long you were all wrinkled. You went past the large door and into the small entryway off the left of the garage and opened it with a tinkle of the rusty old bell above.

You stuck your head out into the gales as the snow continued to fall and squinted at the man in his thin jacket. He stood beside the long luxury car as another man with wild orange hair remained in the driver’s seat and blew into his hands. They were out of place in the small town and you could tell by the way the man scowled at the door that he knew it.

“Hey,” you called to them, “there’s a place down the street. I don’t do walk-ins.”

“Oh, hello, Miss…” he let his voice trail off as he neared and you stared at him rather than provide your name. His accent, his attire, the curl of his lip, it was clear what he thought of you and the bodunk town, “actually I was referred by an acquaintance. One, James Barnes.”

“Bucky?” you furrowed your brow.

“Mm, yes, that one,” he said, “my car will need detailing. We had some difficulties on the motorway.”

“Right,” you tried not to scowl, “well, if he sent you, I guess I can help.”

You left him and the door clattered behind you. He followed a few steps after as you went to the switch and pushed it to raise the wide door of the garage. You waved in the driver of the car and he carefully pulled in beside your brother’s bike. 

He got out and you were surprised by his size, he was taller even then his companion and wider; neither could be described as short. You lowered the door as the thinner man walked along the shelves and the long table along the other side of the garage. The bigger man stood by the car and tucked his hands in his pockets.

“Not much better in here than out there,” the dark-haired man turned back to you, “you have heat in here?”

“You need a better coat,” you said as you rounded the back of the car, “and some boots.”

You glanced pointedly at his leather shoes and bent to reach under the table. You pulled out the space heater and plugged it in as you set on the wood. You cranked it up and smiled at him tritely.

“So, what’s the damage?” you asked as you looked to the other man.

“Headlight, maybe,” he said in a peculiar accent, “some scratches. We had a bit off a run-in.”

You neared and bent to examine the front of the car. You sighed as you tilted your head and clicked your tongue. It was easy enough to beat out the dents and buff out the scratches with a quick refinish. The headlight would need to be replaced and you knew they didn’t carry anything for that model in town. No one there was pretentious enough to drive it.

“If you want the headlight done before you leave town, it’ll take some time to get the replacement,” you warned.

“Oh, and how do you know I’m leaving?” he taunted coyly.

“Well, I know you’re definitely not sticking around,” you scoffed.

“Why wouldn’t I? A quaint place like this, I’m sure there is so much to explore,” he said dryly.

You had no delusions of what Birch was but it wasn’t the part of outsiders to deride the dead end. You stood straight and put your hands on your hips.

“You can go back to your castle, my lord, but you will have to wait out the storm,” you sneered. “Two days for the scratches. If you want to take it back after that and wait for the headlight to arrive, that’s fine with me.”

“Two days for the scratches? Surely you could do it before the morning,” the black-haired man insisted.

“I could but I have other work to do,” you replied, “so you can be patient and take your turn in line after all the hicks who live here.”

You went back to the table and grabbed your phone from where you tossed it earlier. You unlocked it and searched the model of his car and scrolled through the parts list. 

“You’re Bucky’s guest so I’ll send the bill to him?” you asked, “though you do look to be able to afford it yourself.”

“You can invoice him directly,” he assured, “so you’re one of them?”

“One of them?” you repeated as you focused on checking out. The damn internet kept cutting in and out.

“My brother, those men in this town, I never knew a woman--”

“I’m not a biker. My brother is in the club,” you assured him, “so that big blond dope, he’s your brother?”

“Regrettably, yes,” he slithered, “Loki Odinson,” he introduced himself as he rubbed together his hands, the leather gloves doing little to protect his fingers, “my driver is Korg, and you’ve yet to tell me with whom I am trusting my property.”

“Again, there is a shop down the street. Prices aren’t bad,” you finished up your purchase and tucked your phone in your jacket pocket.

He met your eyes as you turned to him and he looked down his nose. You kept on and brushed past him as you went back around the car and sat by your brother’s bike.

“Sorry about the boss,” the other man, Korg, intoned, “he can be a bit--”

“Don’t apologise for me,” Loki snipped, “I needn’t atone to her.”

You rolled your eyes and wheeled around the side of the bike, “if that’s everything, you two can head back out. I’ll let you know when the car’s ready.”

“We might wait for the snow to calm,” Loki suggested.

“I close in an hour, you’re not staying here all night,” you sniffed.

“Trust me, I have no special desire to spend more time with you than necessary,” he retorted, “I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman so volatile as you, dear, and I’ve only just met you. I never expected you people to have very many manners but perhaps what I did presume was too much.”

You bared your teeth but kept at your work. You would worry about kicking him out when you finished the wiring.

“To be fair, had you not spoken first, I might’ve assumed you were a man,” he added.

You paused and glanced down at the open tool box. You weren’t unused to the comments, you weren’t girly in any way but it wasn’t like you were trying to be a man. You wore what was comfortable and in your work, practicality prevailed over aesthetic. Yet, your years of ridicule as a kid made you less tolerant of the comments and those had stopped long ago because you made sure they did.

“Oh, darling, have I upset you?”

“Don’t call me that,” you said as you reached into the toolbox.

“Well, you’ve not given your name and I’d hate call you what I truly think of you--”

The wrench flew from your hand as you stood and spun to him. It barely missed his head and bounced off the wall and plunked onto the table beside the heater. His eyes rounded and the other man looked at him. There was a thick silence as you glared at him.

“If you weren’t a friend of Bucky’s, I wouldn’t’ve missed,” you hissed, “now I will kindly, before I reach for a bigger wrench, ask you to leave.”

He pushed his shoulders back and tilted his head as his lips thinned dangerously. He swallowed and beckoned the other man with two fingers. His cheek twitched as if he would grin and he nodded subtly.

“Well, darling, how amusing you are. These brutes must adore you,” he snarled, “the exterior does indeed say it all.”

You bent and reached for another tool blindly. He blinked and quickly dodged as you flung the next wrench and he followed his henchman to the entryway. Your temper was a match for many men. It kept you safe.

“Barnes did not say his mechanic was a madwoman,” Loki called back as the bell rang.

“What, are you going to tattle on me?” You stormed towards the doorway, “you precious little princess?”

“Princess?” he met you in the doorway as Korg behind him held the door open and the snow blustered in, “I know Barnes will do me no other favours, but do you think he’ll do you any?”

“Get out,” you spat and shoved him, “I don’t need men to take care of me and I have no problem in proving that.”

He bit the inside of his lip in a crooked smirk and winked before he turned away and strutted out into the snow, shielding his face from the wild winds. Korg trailed behind him and the door sprang back into the frame. You crossed your arms and glared at the peeling paint. 

You were tempted to tow his car out and let it weather the storm but you were smarter than that. If he was doing business with Bucky, you would be a fool to get in the way of it. 

💀

The snow dwindled to a lazy dusting, the ground thick and treacherous. That day, you started early and around noon, you headed across the street to the diner for your usual lunch of a club sandwich and black coffee. You didn’t have to order as all the waitresses knew what to expect. You weren’t unfriendly but your association made many standoffish.

You tapped on the lip of your mug with your thumb, fingers hooked through the handle. The sleepy town felt dead in the winter. You were used to the dullness of Birch but tolerance was hardly happiness. It was home, where you’d grown up and you had no certain desire to get out, but you wouldn’t mind a little more than what was expected.

You yawned and gulped down the last of your coffee. It was bitter and left a few grounds on your tongue. You leaned back and grabbed the monthly newsletter from between the salt and pepper shakers. You read through the fun facts which weren’t very fun or even new. They were copy and pasted out Guinness and Reader’s Digest.

You looked up as you sensed someone approach your table but it wasn’t the waitress. The man from the day before slid coolly onto the seat across from you at the booth and smirked over the table. You raised the newsletter again and folded it backwards to read about the weekly knitting circle down at the rec center that was also the library.

“Good afternoon to you too,” Loki said, “it must be fortune I ran into you, I was hoping to inquire after my car--”

“I told you, two days,” you said tersely as you continued onto your horoscope …‘a new force will bring change’... You hated this tripe. You swore, every month they just switched the blurbs under each sign and hit print.

“So be it,” he cleared his throat and you lowered the paper as he shrugged out of his jacket.

“What are you doing? I eat my lunch alone,” you said.

“Well, to be frank, I was pointed here on the promise of some famous cabbage soup,” he explained as he folded his jacket over the seat next to him, “you looked like you needed company.”

“I don’t,” you assured him.

Kimmie came over and set down your sandwich. She greeted Loki and you saw the way she eyed his tailored suit. He stuck out in the town of flannels and denim.

“Hello, sir, can I get you something to drink?” she asked.

“Tea, English breakfast,” he ordered smoothly.

“Oh, sorry, we only have um, um, sorry, peppermint, earl grey, ginger lemon, and green,” she listed off as she tried to remember them all.

“Earl grey,” he sighed, “and a menu.”

“No, no menu,” you insisted, “and you can take his tea to another table.”

“And when we’re through, I’ll take the cheque,” he ignored you and snickered under his breath.

“Kimmie, can I get a to go box?” you asked as you shimmied off the seat and snatched up your coat, “I have to get back to work.” You took out your wallet and counted out the usual amount plus a tip, “thanks.”

“Of course,” she smiled awkwardly and glanced between you and Loki.

She scooped your sandwich back up and scurried away with it. You felt him watching you as you walked away and went to stand by the till as you watched Nora flit into the kitchen. She packed up your food and returned with the box. You took it and headed for the door, ignoring the arrogant out-of-towner on your way.

“Wait,” Kimmie called out your name and you turned back as she held up your keys, “you dropped these.”

You met her halfway and took them from her with a mutter. Again, he was watching you… or still watching you. She spun and promised she’d have his tea shortly.

“Hmm,” he hummed and you head to the door again, “interesting, I never would have put the name to the face.”

You pushed out into the snow and gritted your teeth. You thought of getting the work on his car out of the way quickly so he would leave you alone but your spite made you want to put it off entirely. Whatever. He’d be gone soon enough.

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #birch #fully completely #series #sequel #dark fic #fic #dark!fic #thor #mcu #marvel #au #biker!au #biker au #biker boys of birch #bucky barnes #korg

[beyondspaceandstars]

Hi!

I've been reading some of your posts and I am a big fan🥰

I was wondering if its okay, maybe you could do a Loki x reader where they were best friends and denied each others feelings all the time and when Loki was brought to the TVA, he found reader there and lots of angst and fluff🥰💞😁

Have a great day😁😁💞💞🥰🥰

Nothing Gold

Relationship: Loki x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: thank you so much for enjoying me work I am so glad that makes me so happy! thank you so much for the request. I really liked this idea and I think it came out okay - sorry the ending it a bit abrupt! thank you again :)

Masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Loki had to do a full-on, dramatic as hell, double-take while walking through the TVA library. He had come down to look for a variant file but had apparently ended up finding something else. More specifically — someone else.

You. You. You.

You, his best friend. You, the sweet girl he had a never-ending crush on. You, the one who had just gone missing one day.

Loki could never forget. It was like something wouldn’t let him.

He had invited you around the palace for breakfast before you left his chambers for the night. You two had been up late reading together. You frequently popped over, usually claiming to stay for a few hours, just enough for Loki to read to you some verses of a poetry book, but those hours got longer and longer each time.

Next thing you two knew, it was nearly morning and you needed at least a few hours of sleep in your own bed. He had walked you out, asking you to come back for breakfast in a few hours. You happily agreed, giving him a quick hug before parting. Loki didn’t want to let go. He remembered that detail very well. He wanted to pull you back in his chambers, just hold you for hours. Days. Months. Forever. But he didn’t. He let you go, watching as you made your way back to your modest home. He never realized that would be the last time he saw you.

Well, actually, it technically wasn’t. Because he was staring at you right now. You were at a table near the back of the library, head buried in some files but he could still recognize you. Could always point out that lovely, long hair and those soft, gentle hands. You were always a stark contrast against him.

Loki just watched you for a few moments, completely and utterly confused by the situation. The shock was wearing off and now question after question filled his brain. How did you end up here? What had you done? Were you okay? A million thoughts came over him but his legs had their own agenda. The next thing he knew, he was approaching your table. He almost didn’t know how he got there.

He stood opposite of your sitting form. You weren’t noticing him, apparently very invested in the file you were studying. Loki had to admit, that was quite like you. You were always one to get lost in the words, way deeper than he did.

Eventually, Loki cleared his throat, hoping that’d do something. Slowly, you lifted your head, brows furrowed in confusion as you looked at him from head to toe. You didn’t recognize him, Loki could see it in your eyes. He was just a variant turned agent to you. Something in him felt like it was stabbing his heart over and over again.

"Can I help you with something?" You hesitantly asked but your voice was still so sweet and kind, just as Loki remembered. You were far more patient and soft-spoken than he was.

He said your name like it was the greatest plead but you didn’t react. Loki didn’t know what to do then, realizing you were you but you also…weren’t. His face fell.

You were getting uncomfortable. "I-I’m sorry, I’m not sure I know who that is—,"

"You don’t?" Loki couldn’t help the hurtful gasp he let out.

"Sir, I’m sorry…" Your eyes began searching around frantically. Something was going on. You were getting scared, way past uncomfortable. You wouldn’t look at him anymore.

Loki said your name again, much forceful than the last. You jumped. You weren’t directly responding but Loki could see something in your eyes. He said your name again. Then again. Like it was the only thing he knew. Your eyes met one another intensely, hypnotically.

After maybe the sixth time, you snapped. You jumped out of your seat, breathing heavily, scared, surprised. It had all happened too fast Loki was also taken back. You two were more than just staring at each other. Your wide eyes were taking him in.

"Loki?"

He felt so relieved to hear his name just float off your lips. It was as sweet as he remembered. Like a little lullaby. The stabbing in him stopped.

Loki nodded. "It’s me."

"What…" You looked around as if you had no idea where you were. And maybe you didn’t but Loki hadn’t expected your name to just snap you out of it. This opened a lot of questions for him but he didn’t have time. He raised his hand, cutting off your words.

Loki nodded towards one of the bookshelf aisles further away from everyone. You nodded in understanding, following him down the rows.

Once you were a safe distance away, Loki wasted no time collecting you in his arms, his head buried in your shoulder. You were surprised for a moment at the gesture but then you fell into it naturally, like you had just hugged him yesterday. And really that was how it had felt. But Loki knew better. You had been gone for so long…

"Loki," you mumbled his name, your head pressed into his chest. "What is going on?"

Loki stilled. "Why don’t you tell me what you know."

You scoffed, breaking off the hug. You were a sweet one but Loki was no stranger to your tiny temper. You put distance between you two and Loki allowed it despite how much it hurt.

"What I know?" You repeated, folding your arms. "What I know is that I’m standing in a library with you." You looked around at the space, noting an actual lack of real books. "What kind of library is this anyway? How did I—,"

"Do you remember anything before you got here?"

Your gaze dropped as you studied your shoes. They were some nice black flats but Loki knew that wasn’t your style. You were not the business causal type, usually pleased with the feeling of Asgardian silk gowns.

Something was coming to you as you let out a soft gasp. "I was walking home. We-We had just finished a poem written by that Midgardian… Gosh, what was his name? Winter or something—,"

"Frost," Loki mumbled. "His last name was Frost and you enjoyed his poem about how nothing gold can stay. You found it relatable. I’ll admit, you may have been onto something."

A light had gone on within you. "You thought it was pretentious." Your gaze met Loki’s once more. "I called you a fool and laughed. Then we saw daylight breaking and… and I had to go home. I missed my bed. You wanted breakfast in a few hours. I agreed to come back."

Loki nodded, encouragingly, but your words had fallen off. "What happened next?"

You shook your head, that blank expression washed over you again. "I don’t know."

Loki let out a sigh and leaned back on the shelf. "Do you remember anything after that?"

You looked back down at your outfit. At least the pencil skirt was nice. "Yes," you admitted. "I was hired here. I report on variants to protect the sacred timeline." It sounded to Loki like you were reading a script. What the hell was going on here?

"But you don’t know how you got from Asgard to…here?"

You sighed, a bit annoyed. "How did you get here?"

The snippy temper was back. You were still you. Loki could’ve kissed you, a feeling that had come over him before but was suddenly more intense than ever. He would, he promised himself. He couldn’t leave you again without doing so.

"I had a bit of an…incident."

"Really? You? I never would’ve guessed," you said, the sarcasm on your words dripped heavily. Loki gave quite the dramatic eye roll. You let out a little giggle.

"Yes, well, never mind what got me here, I am here," he said, motioning towards nothing. "And I am assisting with the hunt of a variant."

"You’re helping them?"

Loki scoffed. "Don’t act so surprised." A beat. "I didn’t have much of a choice."

You bit your lip, trying to hold back a smile but failed miserably. Loki had missed this. If he focused really hard, it almost felt like you two were back in Asgard, lounging around, talking about nothing. Teasing one another. His heart was aching.

"What do you know about the variant?" You eventually asked.

Loki glanced away. "It’s me."

"You?"

He shrugged. "Well, a version of me. Another variant."

You slowly crossed the aisle, coming to stand right next to Loki, your shoulders pressed against one another. Loki’s breath hitched just a bit. He would never get used to this.

You asked, "Well, what have ‘you’ done?"

Loki resorted back to his witty humor. "Nothing good as you could assume."

"This mischief of two Lokis is unthinkable."

Loki let out a laugh which you followed suit with. You two were laughing over nothing in this random library in wherever this place was. He could barely understand it and you were absolutely clueless. But the moment of laughter was good, was familiar. Too bad it couldn’t last.

"I’ve missed you," Loki admitted after the laughter had faded out unceremoniously. You looked a bit surprised at the confession.

"Truly?"

He nodded.

You blushed and looked down. "I’d say I missed you too but I don’t feel like we’ve been apart. How long has it been?"

When Loki wasn’t giving an answer, you forced yourself to turn back to him. He was staring at you quite intensely. You shivered under the gaze. It was an expression you hadn’t seen before, he hadn’t allowed you to see. It was one full of love and interest and adornment.

"Too long," was all he said before his lips were on yours. Loki finally took what he had been craving and it was happening in the TVA library. The fucking TVA. Loki’s head was still spinning with worries about this whole thing but, slowly, he got lost in you. In your lips and softness. Your hands grasped his shirt as you deepened the kiss — you. You wanted more from him. And he was happy to give.

His hands caressed your sides lovingly, feeling and holding you in the way he had always dreamed. It was better than anything he could’ve conjured. It felt right and real. Good and… Too good. Too powerful.

An alarm was going off somewhere now. You hadn’t seemed to notice it, still captivated in the kiss, but Loki was aware. He forced you two apart, reluctantly. You looked at him, ready to protest, but before you could ask anything, Loki was placing a hand over your mouth.

Footsteps were approaching. They were coming towards your aisle. Whatever had happened here wasn’t good, something had gone haywire. Had he broken the timeline? Was that even possible here? Loki didn’t know but what he did know was there was an army on the hunt for them. Without thinking twice, he grabbed your hand, looking for an escape route.

"Loki," you finally were able to speak, keeping your voice hushed as you two maneuvered the maze of shelves, "what did we do?"

"We love each other."

"Love?"

Loki stopped despite there being no time to stop. "Am I wrong?"

You didn’t answer. That was all he needed. Now to only get the hell out of here. Loki couldn’t tell if his encounter with the TVA had been a blessing or a cure as he held you close to him, refusing to lose you again to whatever trap this place planned to lay.

#loki oneshot #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson #loki fic #loki imagine #loki series #mcu loki #loki #loki x reader #loki laufeyson angst #loki laufeyson fluff #loki laufeyson one shot #loki laufeyson imagine #mcu fic #mcu #marvel fanfiction #marvel one shot #marvel #avengers #loki fluff #loki fanfic #loki angst #tva!reader #writing*

[tinyyoungblood]

ugliest, strangest, and most magnificent | p.parker

➭ headcanon

summary: the avengers and their handwriting

pairing: peter parker x avenger!reader

warnings: language, mention of suicide letter, pure chaos and crack

a/n: none of these are canon, i’m just having too much fun. but i promise i’m still working on a proper fic lol enjoy x

hc masterlist

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right off the bat, peter’s handwriting is awful. let’s not kid ourselves, that boy is a genius and could not care less about how his notes look like. it’s like he has taken on a very personal quest to compete with every doctor in the country to see who can be the most incoherent. it’s scary

it’s so bad that no one even asks peter for his class notes anymore because, well, for one thing, that boy barely attends classes, and for another, trying to make out what it says will blind you and permeate your eyelids

it is worse than staring death in the face (source: “still horrified and sad” loki)

y/n is probably the only person who can read peter’s medical shorthand. she has absolutely zero (0) problems reading it and the avengers are BAFFLED

she can pick up peter’s notebooks and read them aloud like they’re typed in double spaced 12 pt. times new roman

no she will not explain how or why

this one time, peter helped morgan make really ~extravagant~ christmas cards with glitter and fake snow (it was GREAT) but since she’s like 4 and can’t write, he wrote sweet little words inside the cards for her and then gave it to tony and steve

tony, with tears in his eyes: “this is beautiful, thank you. i’ve never seen anything more beautiful”

steve, whispering: “your eyes are burning too, right?” “i can’t even tell if it’s nonsensical symbols or witchcraft???”

tony’s handwriting is surprisingly neat? like, actually…quite nice

no one really knows why, but he has this thing where the letters just have to be the same size, on a straight line, and tilting at the same angle otherwise he will have a nervous breakdown and fight you in the nearest parking lot (as you do when being confronted with any inconvenience as a grown adult and avenger)

but because that is too stressful, tony barely writes down anything. ever. he just tells F.R.I.D.A.Y. to set a reminder and calls it a day. last time he picked up a pen was in 2009 and that was just because he couldn’t reach an itching spot on his back

the one time he does write something down though, hell breaks loose

“wait is tony holding a pen?” “tony are you writing? am i seeing things? are you ok—are you dying?? let me get the others DON’T MOVE” *distant crashing sound* “gUYS—”

two seconds later, everyone is huddled around tony, straining their necks, and trying to get a glimpse at his little piece of paper

“what do you think it is? a love letter?” “maybe a heartfelt complaint” “probably a plan for world domination” “he’s got those on flash drives, it’s a suicide note” “it’s a grocery list. fuck you guys”

thor has the handwriting of a little child

it’s precious. it makes all his letters and postcards from Out Of Space™️ look like they were written using the comic sans font. he also adds an excessive amount of stardust. it’s wonderful

steve’s handwriting is your typical average jo. he’s an ~artist~ and he is american so he mainly writes in capital letters because he thinks it’s Patriotic and Aesthetically Pleasing

he’s also the only one who will pick up the newspaper in the morning, but it’s mainly because of the crossword puzzles because!! boy oh boy!! he LOVES them!!

he thinks they are SPLENDID and MIND STIMULATING and even though he does have the brains for it, sometimes there are gaps that he just can’t fill, so he writes down anything in fat capital block letters and casually thrusts it in other people’s faces

then he runs off so no one can see his actual answers like cardi b being a jeopardy star

bucky barnes has the handwriting of a founding father

the others find out about this because y/n had asked him to write down a recipe for her since she had broken her arm, so he did, but she just never had the chance to look at it

until one day, y/n whips out that recipe out in the kitchen and peter is standing behind her

“is that……the constitution??”

it’s not, but bucky really got into calligraphy when he was in wakanda. at first, he only did it for fun during his free time with the goats

but now he feels confident in his cursive and doesn’t see why he shouldn’t use it daily

and the more bucky practices, the more he ~dresses up~ his letters

so what starts out as readable-to-the-average-person cursive turns into what looks like 9 loops and random swirls of hell

he LOVES it

and the avengers can tell that he loves it so they keep making up excuses for him to write out stuff for them just to see the little glint in his eyes

“bucky, can you sign this for me?” “why?” “no reason” “peter, i’m not your legal guardian? aunt may has to sign this” “just write down her name” “what??” “i can see you want to. just do it” *proceeds to happily forge signature*

it doesn’t even matter that everyone kinda struggles to read bucky’s pretentious cursive. it’s beautiful. and if you squint really hard, you’ll get the gist

“y/n, bucky left me a sticky note that just says punk. do you know why?” “does it matter? it looks like a prop from a period drama. frame it”

the only person who’s not impressed by bucky’s handwriting is tony alias mr. practical

tony needs everyone to fill out some forms and while handing them out, he looks bucky directly in the eyes to say “and make sure us peasants can read it”

but one day, when tony’s sick and stuck in his room, peter and y/n have the idea to make a little card for tony to wish him a speedy recovery and everyone has to sign it and write a little message

so that’s how tony ends up with the ugliest, strangest, and most magnificent card the world has ever seen. ~handmade~ by the avengers

there’s stardust, and glitter, and neon paint, and a clash of 20 very distinctive and one-of-a-kind handwritings

tony tries to brush it off, but to this day it may or may not still be on his night stand at all times so he can look at it every night before going to bed <3

* * *

am i going to make a series out of this even tho no one asked for it? yes. yes, i am. i hope you guys like reading them just as much as i like writing them bc i’m not going to stop lol thanks for reading! stay hydrated <3

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x avenger!reader #avengers #steve rogers #tony stark #bucky barnes #peter parker x y/n #peter parker headcanon #steve rogers headcanon #tony stark headcanon #bucky barnes headcanon #headcanon #marvel #mcu #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fandom #avenger!reader #thor #thor headcanon #avengers crack #marvel headcanons #mcu headcanons