lots of lokis!

Fuck, I miss Loki.

That’s all.

I have a lot of feelings and thoughts about the scene between Odin & Loki from the Dark World (you’re all shocked, I know). I promised @pro-antagonist I would do a meta for it, so here we go.

For the longest time, I was of two minds about Odin’s thinking in this scene. On the surface, it seems like he still can’t grasp that Loki isn’t Thor. That what worked on Thor, won’t work on Loki. Tough love as banishment may have humbled Thor and started him on a path to be a better man. But tough love as imprisonment for Loki? No chance of being effective. But that’s one of the mainstays of Odin’s character, isn’t it? He doesn’t understand Loki. He can’t communicate with him effectively and he doesn’t know how to reach out to him.

But then I wondered, what if Odin has finally grasped that and opted to use it here to his advantage?

Keep reading

Drabble Game Part 2

Words: 3,687

A/N: Daaaaaaaang, this one is long. There’s going to be a part 3 so hang tight.

Drabble Game: 7- Eternity (Tony Stark)

It was nights like these when you really questioned yourself. Your head was nestled on top of your knees, your arms wrapped around them tightly as soft tears fell from your face unbidden. You’d endured so much that sometimes it was so hard to keep your head up. You shut your eyes, closing the world out. Maybe if you were just a little better, a little faster, a little stronger, then maybe they’d still be there. A warm arm wrapped itself around your body, its heat bringing you hope. The steady thrum of a heartbeat behind you dragged you out of the darkness, pulling you back towards the light. Perhaps it wasn’t your fault, perhaps it was always meant to be that way. A feather of a kiss landed lightly on your cheek, another hand pulling you even closer to the fiery heat. With each caress, you were brought back; every ghost of whisper upon your skin, tugging you ever closer to redemption.

“(Y/N)…” Tony whispered lightly, his arms wrapped around you in a display of adoration.

“I’m sorry,” you croaked, your darkened thoughts turning much lighter in his presence.

“I love you.” He pressed seriously, your head falling back against his shoulder. You would gladly suffer for eternity if it meant you could have a single moment with him.

Drabble Game:  18- Love (Wade Wilson)

It all started with an unidentifiable feeling at the mention of his name. It was just a fleeting feeling of something, nothing more. But it only progressed from there. Soon your heart was singing at the smallest indication of him, your entire demeanor shifting in the presence of him. Your stomach would flutter, your lips would curve into an unwilling smile, and your entire body would gravitate towards him. You’d never felt anything like it, deeming it nothing more than just an insatiable lust. But after the two of you had proved that theory wrong again and again, you were truly stumped. You worried whenever he was away, and craved his affection whenever he was near. It wasn’t just a physical crave either, you wanted to hear him call you his, wanted to see his eyes look warmly at you. And whenever you fought, you felt broken. Your entire world shattered with each frustrated yell, each painful insult. Finally, you’d had enough pondering what was and what wasn’t. You pulled back from Wade’s lips, looking at him seriously.

“What are we?” You deadpanned, your hands holding him back from your body. He blinked, not expecting such a question.

“What do you mean?” He asked. You rolled your eyes, continuing to keep him restrained.

“You know what I mean.” Sighing, he intertwined his fingers with his own.

“We’re what you want us to be.” He answered, stopping his advance when your breathing intermingled. “Or,” he continued, “We’re just love.”

Drabble Game: 19- Tears (Logan Howlett)

He stared at the stone, still not believing the events that transpired. His entire existence felt pointless, his body numb with grief. He was supposed to keep you safe, keep you… He dropped to his knees, a hand reaching out for the freshly engraved stone. He failed you. Dropping his head in shame, he welcomed the biting winds. He didn’t deserve to stand here in front of your grave, to grieve you like everyone else. You trusted him and he… A strange noise left his parted lips, a mixture between a sob and a howl.

“(Y/N)…” he whispered painfully, brokenly. His world was gone, you were gone. He was rocking back and forth, his arms holding onto his abdomen to help soothe the rising bile in his throat. Everything he did was for you and now you were gone. He couldn’t get the look of your eyes out of his head. They once shone with love, like the stars on a warm, summer night. The last time he looked at them, they were dull. The last bit of life snuffed out. And your skin, once warm and glowing, was cold and pale. It was like the world was torn from your body, leaving only a shell of the person you once were. The first tear leaked out of his eyes, others following soon after. His heart was shattering in his chest, the splinters a painful reminder of his failure. He could still smell the glimmer of your perfume on his shirt; still see your bright smile when he closed his eyes. No matter how hard he tried to shut it out, his senses were attacked. He shut his eyes painfully, willing it all to go away, willing the world to go away. His tears were searing against his skin, the scorching heat the only resistance to the piercing winds. In all his life, he’s never felt this broken, and he knew he’d never feel whole again.

Drabble Game: 26- Forever and a day (Matt Murdock)

It was silent, save for the occasional hiss of pain or the shuffle of medical equipment. You didn’t feel like talking and Matt didn’t look to be in the position to. He was leaning heavily against the couch, your hands working on cleaning the large gash across his chest. It always scared you, seeing him like this. You worried for him constantly, and nights like these did nothing to quell that feeling. He flinched when your hand unintentionally hit a particularly sensitive spot, your arm reeling back in horror at the thought of hurting him.

“Are you alright?” You asked softly, rubbing his knee with gentle movements.

“You’re worried.” Matt avoided the question, choosing to focus on your own thoughts instead.

“You run around the city and beat up bad guys for a living,” you muttered, “of course I’m worried.” He kept silent a moment, allowing you to continue working on his wound.

“You shouldn’t be worried.” You laughed curtly, your hands reaching blindly for a bandage.

“Seeing how many times you come back here beaten to a pulp doesn’t help your case much,” you stated dryly, finally locating the clean bandage. You wrapped it around his torso, careful not to hurt him in the process.

“I won’t leave you like that,” Matt promised. Your heart clenched within the confines of your chest, a naïve hopefulness surfacing at his words. “I’ll always be here for you.”

“Forever?” You asked quietly, knowing that his words would do nothing. It was less of an assurance but more of a temporary comfort.

“Forever and a day.”

Drabble Game: 33- Seeing Red (Matt Murdock)

Your broken body was lying mere feet from where Matt stood, Fisk taking some pleasure in knowing he’d found a weakness of the Devil’s. Your breathing was coming out shakily, the pain in your ribs increasing at every desperate inhale. You seemed to be fighting for each breath, a battle you were slowly losing.

“Matt,” you rasped, pleading for him to help you. He was by your side in an instant, Fisk’s men yelling warnings as they ran off into the dark night. Matt lifted you up gently, slipping your cellphone into his hand. He called Foggy as he cradled you in his arms, a hand moving through your hair softly. Each minute dragged on, Matt frantically keeping you awake while waiting for Foggy. After what felt like an eternity of pain, Foggy finally arrived. With the help of Matt, they had you in a car and all ready to go to the hospital. You were holding Matt’s hand in a death grip when he attempted to leave, your entire body screaming for him to stay with you. “Please,” you whispered. Matt, however, was seeing red. His jaw was clenched, his eyes screaming murder. He sent Foggy a pointed look, prying your hand off of his as he followed the path Fisk had taken minutes ago. You shivered. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen had just been let loose.

Drabble Game:  47- Perfection (Wade Wilson)

You were having a terrible day, nothing seeming to go your way. By the time you finally got home, you dropped down on your bed. You didn’t bother taking your uniform off as you nestled into the warm bed, praying for pleasant dreams to take you away from the horrid reality that was today. The Merc with a Mouth, however, was having none of that.

“Honey I’m home!” He yelled, the door swinging open. You groaned, burrowing further into the bed. Maybe if you ignored him he’d go away. His footsteps grew closer and his voice grew louder. “So, today I had to go undercover. I was thinking about going for something a little more subtle but then I thought, maybe I should make it more childish sounding. I mean, who’s going to attack somebody called Rainbow Fluffy Pants?”

“Please tell me you didn’t go by the name Rainbow Fluffy Pants.” You said dryly.

“Of course not,” he scoffed. “It was Baby Unicorn Rainbow Fluffy Pants.” He replied, entering the room. You grumbled loudly, placing a pillow over your head.

“Can I just have a nap?” You asked into your pillow. The bed moved with the weight of Wade, an arm snaking around your shoulders.

“Bad day?” He asked. You nodded, pulling the pillow away from your face to look at him. He looked oddly sympathetic. Leaning in, he took off his mask and smiled at you. “Need me to make it better?” You smiled up to him.

“Always,” you replied. Returning your smile, he gently leaned in. As his lips moved against your own, you couldn’t think of anything in the world more perfect then Wade Wilson’s love.

Drabble Game: 56- Everything For You (Foggy Nelson)

“(Y/N),” Foggy grumbled, pulling at the collar of his button down.

“Oh relax, Fog.” You replied, pushing the last strand of hair back before turning to him.

“I’m all for free drinks but I really don’t want to go to this.” He sluggishly followed you out into the glowing city, waiting by you while you hailed a cab.

“You’re going to have fun.” You tried, cursing when a cab didn’t stop. “Besides, I can’t go without my best guy.” That seemed to do the trick. Foggy’s stance straightened up as you finally got a cab to stop. You both crammed in there, Foggy leaning back while you gave the driver the instructions to some overly posh art gallery. Finished with giving the instructions, you sighed, sitting back against the seat. You really hoped you didn’t mess up your hair but you honestly couldn’t care at the moment. Your nerves were eating you up. You’d been working on this project for weeks and it finally seems to have paid off. Your work was going to be on sale for the whole of upper-class New York. Foggy placed a hand on your knee, stopping the constant bobbing of it.

“You’re going to do fine.” He reassured, smiling softly. You breathed heavily, your senses focused on the heat radiating from his hand. If Foggy was here, you could do anything. Maybe. Butterflies fluttered around in your stomach, making you feel like a school girl with a crush. Foggy mistook your reaction for nervousness towards the gala, causing him to move even closer. He was talking, and you should probably be listening, but the warmth radiating from his body was so sweet. “(Y/N)?” He asked. You’d been so lost in your senses; you failed to notice he stopped talking.

“How about we skip?” You asked him. “I’ll tell them I’m sick.”

“You don’t need to skip because you’re nervous I-,”

“It’s not that.” You interrupted. “I’d just rather… spend time… with… you.” Your eyes widened at your own words. You were not expecting yourself to be that bold. He smiled brilliantly at you.

“Well then,” he linked arms with you, bowing his head as best he could in the small space. “Shall we continue forth towards a valiant adventure, milady?” You giggled, nodding. “Very well, I shall do everything for you.” Laughing, you leaned into his shoulder. This evening was going to be great.

Drabble Game: 69- Shattered (Foggy Nelson)

Matt had tried to stop him, tried to warn him. But as soon as your name was mentioned, he was having none of it. He’d pushed past his friend, barreling towards your limp body. Your blood was mixing in with the water below, bruises covering you from head to toe. He didn’t remember dropping down, soaking his pants with your blood, didn’t remember screaming your name into the unforgiving winds, and didn’t remember breathing in your scent, praying for you to be alive. The eyes that were once filled with life, stared back at him mercilessly, dark and taxing. The touch that was once heavenly and warm and everything he could ever want, was now cold and bitter. The lips that were once pink and filled with love, were now pale and bloodied. He didn’t remember how long he sat there, staring at the only fragment of yourself still on this Earth. However, he did remember watching helplessly as they loaded your lifeless form into a body bag, taking his heart with them. He did remember the box in his pocket searing into his leg. He was supposed to ask tonight. He was supposed to marry you. He was supposed to be with you forever. His head dropped into his hands, tears mixing in with the rain. He didn’t care about the cold, didn’t care about the drenching rain. He only cared about you. After hours of crying, his knees scraping on the harsh concrete, his throat aching from his screams, Matt finally made him move. And with each step he took, his heart shattered more.

Drabble Game: 81- A Place To Belong (Wade Wilson)

He shot straight up, sweat rolling down his body as he panted. It was just a dream. He placed his head in his hands, moving in on himself. He felt so alone in the world. Throwing the blankets off of him, he flung his legs over the side of the bed. The cool wood beneath worked wonders on his heated body, his breathing returning to normal. He breathed in the warm, summer air, almost reminding himself that he was still alive. He was about to get up when a warm hand snaked around his abdomen, a soft cheek resting against his back.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, your voice groggy with sleep. He nodded, a hand moving to intertwine with your own.

“Just a nightmare, go back to bed.” He replied, reveling in the feel of your skin on his.

“What about you?” You inquired. He sat in silence for a moment, shrugging.

“I’ll go make breakfast.” You looked to the clock, watching the neon lights change from 3:41 to 3:42.

“At 3 in the morning?” You shook your head against his back, pulling him closer towards you. “You’re going back to sleep with me and in the morning, you’re staying here while I make breakfast.” He turned to face you, admiring the way the moon shined perfectly against the planes of your face. Nodding, he laid back down, happily adjusting himself so you could cuddle against his chest, legs intertwining with his. The sounds of your even breath had him lulling off into a peaceful sleep. He’d finally found a place to belong.

Drabble Game: 87- Gunshot (Wade Wilson)

Your ears were ringing, the gunshot coming from that close slightly disorienting you. The tang of gunpowder assaulted your tongue, your legs stumbling around as you tried to regain focus. Someone was coming towards you. With all of your strength, you flicked the blade up into their throat. Or at least you hoped it was their throat. You supported yourself on the wall, taking a moment to regain your senses. Who had they shot? Your eyes scoped out the room, stopping once they landed on the giant pool of red. You pushed off the wall with heavy hands, walking much more fluidly than before. Heaving a sigh, you dropped down next to Wade.

“You were shot,” you observed dryly, looking at the bloody hole in the middle of his abdomen.

“I,” he coughed, “I don’t think I’ll make it.” You rolled your eyes, watching him place a hand to his forehead in a dramatic show. “I just want you to know,” he paused, “I love chimichangas.” He let out a raspy breath, his body going limp.

“Wade,” you grumbled, “Get your ass up.”

“Can’t,” he mumbled, “dead.”

“You and I both know you aren’t dead.” You retorted.

“Only a kiss can wake me from my deadly slumber,” he breathed, pulling up his mask and revealing his lips.

“I’m leaving your ass here.” You got back to your feet, making your way through the throng of lifeless, gory bodies with a smirk on your face. In three… two… one…

“(Y/N),” Wade called.

“Yes?” You inquired, not bothering to face him.

“I’m not getting that kiss?” Rolling your eyes, you turned to face him.

“Of course you are,” you replied, taking a step closer to him. Your hands trailed down the front of his suit, stopping before you got past his belt. You leaned in, your words ghosting his lips as you whispered, “You’ll just have to catch me first.” You pushed off him, running away as fast as your legs could take you. He blinked, staring at where you stood for a moment. His mind finally registered what you said as he took off in a dead sprint towards you. He was getting that kiss.

Drabble Game: 88- Possession (Wade Wilson)

You could feel his eyes on you as you laughed politely at the man’s joke, hoping to get a little more information out of him. You savored in the cool liquid going down your throat as you made eye contact with Wade. He was seething, his eyes screaming murder as he took confident strides closer. You looked back to the senator, thinking of a way to get him away from here before Wade could get near him. Acting quickly, you pulled the senator into a back room, promises of pleasure tumbling out your lips. He seemed all too eager to follow you, hoping he’d be able to claim his reward. You knew Wade was still following, knew he was not going to let you out of his sight. You pushed the senator into a room, locking the door behind the two of you. A soft breeze ushered in through the open window, cooling down your anger ever so slightly. You only had a moment to relax before the senator was pushing you down onto the bed, positioned above you as he leaned in to kiss you. Your eyes looked around frantically, your mind searching for some way out of this situation. His lips were rough against your own, his tongue assaulting your mouth before you could pull him off. Fortunately for you, you didn’t need to. Wade slit the man’s throat, his blood oozing down on top of you. You shivered, the heat of the blood contrasting to the cool room. Wade had pushed the man off of you, taking his place above you.

“Mine.” He growled, throwing off his mask and attacking your lips ruthlessly. His hands were brutal in their exploration, leaving bruises in their wake. You finally found the strength to push him off, glaring at him.

“I needed that man.” You shouted. “We need the information.”

“Fuck the information,” Wade yelled, moving back towards you. You held him back as best you could, your eyes burning a hole in his head.

“Now is not the time for your petty jealousy.” You retorted, shoving him back. He barely stumbled, pinning your beneath him.

“You. Are. Mine.” He ground out, pushing his hips against your own. You were in his possession and he was not letting go. A feral smile made its way onto his lips, his hands working on peeling off your clothes.

“What are you doing?” You inquired, your voice ice.

“Marking my territory.”

Drabble Game: 92- Innocence (Loki Laufeyson)

“What would you have me do?” He asked, his voice irritated.

“Stay with me,” you replied calmly, a hand wrapping around his arm. “Please, Loki. You don’t have to do this.” He looked into your shining eyes, his resolve breaking with each breath you took.

“My beloved,” he breathed, pain etched on his face. “I wish for Asgard to suffer no longer. Do you not understand?”

“I do understand, Loki.” You pleaded with your eyes. “But do you not understand that I need you.” He sighed, moving closer to your heat. You could hear the thoughts running through his mind, fear and doubt coursing in his eyes.

“I do.” He muttered, leaning his head against your own. “I feel the same.”

“Then you must stay.” You stated calmly, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “You must stay for me.” He nodded slowly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“How can I be sure you won’t leave me?” He whispered, his voice that of a man who has been neglected for far too long.

“Are you so naïve that you do not see?” You questioned him, no real heat behind your words. “I have fallen in love with you, Loki.” His breath caught, his heart speeding up.

“I love you,” he exhaled, “I love you so much.” Smiling, you placed a sweet, chaste kiss against his awaiting lips. His green eyes searched your face, looking for any kind of deceit. He couldn’t find any. He could only find adoration, love, and your innocence. He’d never met anyone quite like you, somebody who had managed to live this long without spoiling their innocence. It was refreshing. But right now, he wanted to throw that innocence into the wind. He pushed you back down onto the bed, a sinister smirk on his features.

“Loki?” You asked, gulping at the look on his face. He didn’t respond verbally, positioning himself in between your legs instead. You were watching him curiously, a hand sliding up his chest. And like that, he was kissing you.

About Loki...

I know a lot of people think Thanos tortured him (physically or psychologically- whatever) and other people think Thanos was even the reason he attacked Midgard (Thanos wanted the tesseract, the Chitauri wanted a war, and Loki wanted to stay alive…). People also seem to think Loki is hiding from Thanos (while pretending to be Odin) and that Loki will end up helping the avengers to take him down (so Thanos doesn’t kill him). And I agree with ALL of this.


I really REALLY don’t want Loki to be all “Oh my god I have to help them I need the avengers because Thanos will kill me ohmygod I’m so scared of Thanos you guys have no idea what he’ll do to me if he finds me…!!!” Just no. I don’t want Loki to be broken and scared of him. I mean I want him to have a strong knowledge of what he’s capable of and a strong caution… but I don’t want fear (which is how it always turns out in fics focused on Loki and Thanos). I don’t want flashbacks or panic attacks or Loki hiding behind Thor. I want him to be pissed. Like ??? “This bitch had the nerve to torture me?? Do you KNOW what he did? Do you have ANY IDEA the shit he put me through?!?! Nobody tortures and manipulates me and gets away with it! I’m bloody Loki!!!” Like I want him to WANT to find Thanos. To be EAGER to kill him. I don’t want a broken cowering Loki, I want a vengeful angry badass Loki.

fic want

SO when I’m in the mood for some extra heartache in my life, I like to imagine a little black-haired boy suddenly *poofing* into existence right in front of Thor. And he looks a lot like kid Loki—with his green eyes, perfect posture, and sweet quirky eyebrows—but it’s definitely not him.

And the kid is frantic and upset by whatever happened to him right before he appeared in front of Thor, and he keeps saying his father is in trouble.

Slowly, Thor comes to realize that the little boy is Loki’s son, and that Loki had some kind of magical safe-guard built in that would send his kid straight to Thor if anything bad ever happened to him.

And when Loki finally shows up a few days later—all beaten up, limping, and devoid of pride or other options—he has a lot of explaining to do to his brother and son.

*smiles and simmers in a sauna of angst*