​from the

Loki x Reader

What if feels like (fluff)

“You know, I miss the time when we were children; nothing to worry about, no Tesseract, no Aether, dark elves” Y/N said to break the silence between them and the god of mischief who was sitting in front of a window that revealed the skyline of Asgard.

“Neither the Tesseract, nor the Aether were not present during our childhood, Y/N. We chose to ignore their presence, and therefore, we ignored their strength” Loki replied without taking his eyes off the realm he had desired to rule.

“I suppose you are right. However, present times are unusually rough. In all nine realms. Especially Midgard” Y/N spoke, wandering across the hall.

“Wherever there are powerful creatures, others will challenge them. That’s the case in all nine realms, Midgard is no exception” Loki commented absentmindedly.

“Tell me, Loki, when you fell from the Bifröst, why did you disappear? We all thought you were dead” Y/N asked quietly and added, “I thought you were dead.”

Loki turned his head around just enough to see Y/N’s reaction to his answer whilst smirking slyly: “Why? Did it hurt at all? Did you cry?”

Y/N stopped walking and looked at the black-haired god: “Loki, we grew up together. We played together, we fought together, studied together. Of course it hurt.”

Loki stared at Y/N, his gaze turned to a piercing one: “But did you cry?” His voice was sharp, a lot sharper than before.

Y/N raised an eyebrow: “Would you want me to cry over you?”

“You didn’t answer my question, Y/N” His voice had turned into an icy shiver.

“You never answer mine, so I doubt you can complain” Y/N retorted and walked towards him: “But next time you want to play dead for a few years, it would be very kind of you if you left a clue so I’d know that you’re still out there.”

“They think I am dead right now” Loki spoke with a sarcastic voice, “So you have your clue right in front of your nose.”

“Indeed. Thank you for sparing some of my nerves, then” Y/N said with an amused tone.

“So you were worried, Y/N?” Loki asked with a smirk and a hybrid of a pleased and amused voice.

Y/N laughed: “It’s as I said. Of course I was.”

“How was it?”

“How was what?” Y/N asked confused and sat down next to the black-haired man. His face changed – from the smirk, it changed to an attempted emotionless face, but one could see the bitterness in his eyes.

“How was it to lose me?”

Y/N’s gaze wandered to the skyline of Asgard in front of them: “It was… conflicting. On the outside, no one was really sure what to say. Some thought your death would bring peace to the realms.” Y/N knew that these words affected him.

“Of course they did-”

“But Thor and Frigga were incredibly sad. She lost her son, and he his only brother” Y/N added.

“I’m neither their son, nor brother. Just a relict that Odin wanted as a trophy” Loki said, each word dripping with bitterness and the taste of betrayal.

“They were devastated, nonetheless. And regarding me…” Y/N pressed their lips together, “I felt like I lost something of which I didn’t knew I had it.”

Loki’s eyes shifted, but Y/N couldn’t read his thoughts for now. His face was so emotionally blank, Y/N had no clue what was going on inside of his head.

Y/N sighted: “I asked Heimdall day after day if he saw you. But you were gone, he couldn’t see you. So after a few months, I reached the point where I had to come to terms with it. That I had failed to tell you that I… care about you.”

It was dead-silent after Y/N had said that sentence. Loki’s eyes were fixed on Y/N’s, probably trying to read their thoughts and emotions.

“You changed the tense there” Loki then pointed out.

“I know. That was intentional” Y/N sighted insecurely.

“If all you said is true, then tell me why” His voice was starting to change from soothing to fierce, “Why would someone like you care about the most despised traitor of Asgard that is not even an Asgardian, but a Frost Giant that neither ascends to the throne, nor has the cheerfulness or mighty powers Thor has? You could have chosen anyone, anyone but me who basically resembles the reject of Asgard!”

Y/N said nothing for a bit, simply looked at his broken expression. “Yes, I could have. Maybe I should have, really, considering the fact that by sitting here, I am pretty much on Odin’s wanted list. But I didn’t. It was never meant to be easy, and both of us are warriors. I don’t desire a throne, nor do I desire the power to rule the nine realms. Seems like a silver tongue does the trick, too.”

“They will throw you into the dungeons if they find out you had contact with me” Loki said and took Y/N’s hand.

“I know.”

“What is it you want to gain, Y/N?” Loki asked quietly, turning Y/N’s head in his direction.

“I wish I could give you a rational answer to that, Loki, but I fear I cannot” Y/N replied silently and smiled, “But I’m fine with not gaining anything but your trust.”

“You’ve gained that a long time ago.”

His lips were unsurprisingly cold, but passionate and gentle. Y/N pressed his hand slightly.

“So that’s what it feels like” Loki said quietly.

“To be kissed? This couldn’t have been your first one” Y/N said with a laugh.

“No, I don’t mean that. I’ve been kissed more than I’d care to count. No, what I meant to say was that this had to be the way it felt like to be loved” he replied with a genuine soft smile.

@ultrarebelheart I hope you enjoy this!!

You’ll be Okay || Damian Wayne x Reader

Alright so this is it, the first fanfic I’m writing or this account. You ready? LET’S GO. The prompt is #76 you’re not alone from this prompt batch.

I’m imaging Damian to be around 16 (as well as the reader) in this one but there is no exact age so… whatever works for you

it’s a long one so, be prepared

(words; 1720)


You and Damian never got along well. He was stubborn and blunt and had no bedside manners. You were sarcastic, witty and reckless. To you, he was the worst person in the world and you hated how he didn’t care for team work, how he made everything into a competition and how he always, with every comment or snide look, made your heart flutter. You hated how his strong jaw and emerald eyes and incredible physique made you want to just grab him by the sides of his face and kiss him. You hated him.

To him, you were an insufferable smart-ass that always had to make a comment and he hated how you always knew just what to say to piss him off. He hated how, when his brothers made you laugh he would want to punch them, because he could never make you laugh. He hated how you could have your hair un-brushed, in a messy bun, wearing an oversized jumper, and still look like the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He hated you. 

As a friend of Tim’s from school (you were both in the robotics club and Tim was the only person who could keep up with your caffeinated rambles), and a superhero yourself, you practically lived at Wayne Manor. This caused problems for everyone when you and Damian started glaring at each other or, more often, started arguing over stupid things. You were always arguing, in the living room, or kitchen, or foyer about Alfred’s last cookie, or talking too loud, or someone left their shoes in the way, was harmless. The rest of the family often joked about how you should kiss, or how you were in love with each other. You and Damian always shut these accusations down, always accompanied by a name or insult.

But as Damian listened to you screaming from the infirmary, he was terrified at the prospect of his brothers being right.


The Scarecrow had been tracked to a warehouse near Gotham Docks (what an original hiding place). You had been called in by the Bat because of your powers. You had the ability to control anything that that was in the form of or was in the current state of gas. Or, as Damian puts it, “you control air, stop trying to make it sound impressive”. This power was especially useful when dealing with a villain who uses gas to do his villainy, but that didn’t stop Damian from complaining the whole time. For this reason, Bruce stationed you on opposite sides of the dock. 

The plan was simple. You and Jason, the two most reckless, would sit nearby and watch, to intervene if things turned sour. Tim would sneak in and shut down the machines used to make and produce the unknown toxins that Scarecrow was making, Dick would provide cover for him against any goons. Damian and Bruce would be the ones to take Scarecrow head on. Simple.

You and Jason sat on a roof, watching through the glass roof of the warehouse used by Scarecrow. You watched as Dick dove into battling goons and Tim snuck around to the control panel.

I wish we could actually go in and help.” Jason grumbled. 

You mean you wish you could shoot someone?” You laugh back. Since you began helping the caped crusader, you and Jason sort of just, clicked. Both of you were reckless souls that lived for danger and adventure. Nobody thought this was a good combination, but they left you both be.

And what’s wrong with that, Gust?” Jason Threw you a smirk and moved his gun in a way that allowed the gentle moonlight to reflect.

Both of you, shut up.” Tim grumbles and you turn your attention back to him, hiding around a corner and typing away on his keypad. Dick seemed to be struggling with goons, and Damian swiftly swung in. You made a sarcastic comment to him about how his entrance was graceful, he responded with a snide remark on how ‘at least he was helping fight’. Bruce, after telling you both to stop, jumped down after Damian.

I told you to wait Damian.” Bruce gruffly chided him, punching a goon and swinging them into another.

Yeah. Dami. Follow the plan.” You muttered, but loudly enough for all of the boys to hear.

Gust, enough.” He said, commanded really. This time you shut up. Bruce started helping his oldest and youngest son’ staking down goons.

Why is she allowed to call you Dami and not get a death threat?” Tim suddenly speaks up, annoyed (but whether it’s from struggling with the machine’s firewalls or Damian was hard to tell).

Aww, Dami.” You coo condescendingly, knowing just how to push his buttons.

She’s not. But Batman beat me telling her to shut up.” Damian responds, ignoring your comment and punching a good a bit too hard.

Or,” Jason chirps from beside you, “Demon spawn has a wikkle cwush.” You snort and high-five Jason. Damian just growls and kicks a guy in the… downstairs. You continue to make comments, encouraged by Jason and Dick (who were also teasing their baby brother). You and Jason stayed, waiting for things to be bad enough for you both to assist, watching the boys fighting goons. You watched as goons kept flooding into the room in waves and they were quickly overwhelmed. Jason motioned for you to stay put and jumped down, but there were hundreds of goons, from all different villain bosses, in that warehouse (it appeared as though Scarecrow had hired to goons of other villains that were currently in Arkham). But when Jason landed, he took them down with efficacy (but not killing them or the Bat would get mad). Â Tim was pulled from the machines by goons and had to turn his attention away to defend himself. You were itching to help but the numbers were slowly dwindling, so you stayed put.

That was when the machines started to operate and Scarecrow made his presence known. You jumped down and took over the goons attacking Batman so he could go after Scarecrow. Well, that was the plan. Instead you were taken down by the Scarecrow (you really should pay more attention) and he held a gun to your head. The boys were all distracted but there was only about 100 men left to take down. Jason saw you and took to killing the goons, Batman too distracted to notice. 

Well, Bats, it seems you have lost your touch.” Scarecrow calls out, referencing the fact that all five of them were overwhelmed. You tried to wiggle out of his grip and resisted the urge to draw the air from his lungs (because Batman was very adamant to discourage you killing, being younger than Jason). A mask was placed over your face and a thick air filled your lungs. You tried to fight it but you were already feeling weaker and you couldn’t concentrate enough to use your powers. The last thing you remember was someone calling out to you, but their voice was very distant, and falling to the ground. 


You had to be strapped down to your hospital bed in the infirmary, like a mental ward patient. You had been there for nearly three weeks and you only stopped screaming when you were asleep, but you very rarely were. 

You had been strapped down after the first time you woke up. You had woken up and tried to kill Jason, who was on duty at the time, looking out for you. You were sedated and strapped down. You woke up multiple times that day, screaming bloody murder, before Bruce decided to run a DNA test to find out what had flooded your system and caused to act so… afraid. When you weren’t screaming, you whimpered like a small child at nightmares and monsters that only you could see. 

Two weeks later, the boys were antsy. They still didn’t know what was in your system and they were all terrified (even Damian, although he wouldn’t admit it). Then, Bruce, with the help of a very tired, figured out how to help you and what the toxin was. 

The Scarecrow had figured out the limits of your powers. He made a toxin that was a liquid that was almost in the state of a gas, so it could be inhaled, but it wasn’t, so you had no control over it. The toxin showed the victim their greatest fears, even able to replace people with whatever monster that would scare them the most and flood their dreams.

But finally, Bruce and Tim had found a cure for you (the machine and all traces of the toxin apart from the sample they took were destroyed). 

With the cure making its way through your bloodstream and you slowly were regaining consciousness. Damian was on ‘guard duty’ when you were waking up and watched you cautiously. 

“hmm. Mm.” You quietly moaned, still seeing the ghosts of your nightmares. “Damian?” You looked curiously at the boy sitting next to your bed. You try to move your arm to wipe your eyes and you notice the restraints. Your gaze rises back to Damian and you wait for him to comment. Instead he leans over you and releases your arms. You rub your eyes and shudder as another flash of the monster that haunted you for nearly three weeks crosses your mind. Then you start to cry. Damian doesn’t know what else to do, so he leans forward and hugs you.

You’re not alone. I’m right here.” He whispers while you cry into his shirt. “You are okay, ‘amira.” You slowly compose yourself as Damian continues to whisper reassurances to you, slipping between English and Arabic. “satakun bikhayr.” He whispers as you gently pull away, slightly blushing.

He looks at your (e/c). Even though they are bloodshot, your eyes are still the most beautiful he has ever seen. 

“Are you okay now?” He asks in a hushed tone.

“Yeah. I think I’m good.” Your throat scratches from the weeks of screaming. You both just fall into silence. His emerald eyes showing an affection towards you that you have never seen before and your resolve to never admit your liking towards him started to fall apart. And it completely crumbled when he leant forwards and connected his lips to yours.

A/N; ‘Amira means Princess. Satakun bikhayr means You’ll be okay. (all translations are from google translate so they could be wrong)

SUICIDE SQUAD #37

Written by Rob Williams, art by Jose Luis and Mick Gray,, cover by Jorge Jimenez, variant cover by Andrea Sorrentino.

“Drain the Swamp,” finale! Hack is out for blood now that her killer has stepped forward. While the Squad tries to protect themselves from Hack’s onslaught, Waller does everything she can to keep her secrets buried.

32 pages, $2.99, in stores on March 14.

SUICIDE SQUAD #36

Written by Rob Williams, art by Jose Luis and Mick Gray,, cover by Jorge Jimenez, variant cover by Andrea Sorrentino.

“Tear Down the Wall,” part one! With the success of the new government-sanctioned program, the Wall, the Squad is facing potential 
decommissioning from the Wall himself! The team faces down the one-man platoon as their lives hang in the balance.

32 pages, $2.99, in stores on March 28.