Welcome to my blog, dedicated to my favourite fictional man God. It's all about Loki, and as such is slightly chaotic at the moment, but I'm adding both new and old stories as the whim takes me.
This is an over 18's space and pretty much everything I write ends up NSFW in one way or another. Please respect that.
I'm open to suggestions or requests, but I don't do reader inserts, all my fics are OFC.
I've tried to bundle my fics into collections that share a similar variant of Loki.
I've always been intrigued by the question of what happened to Loki after he grabbed the Tesseract. At this point in his personal journey, Loki is at his lowest ebb. He's been tortured by Thanos, enslaved by the Mindstone, out-witted by the Avengers and Hulk smashed into the foundations of Stark Tower, so he can be forgiven for being slightly off his game.
The Tesseract Variations are a number of unrelated stories which share the same jumping off point.
The Tesseract Variations Master List
AKA the 'Lex and Loki' series. My AU where Loki is part of the Avengers - how this came about I will leave up to you, plenty of stories have been written about that, insert your favourite. Suffice to say, he is a productive and valued member of the team but he's bored. Then he meets Lex and suddenly... less bored.
For Science Master List
There are a few random ideas about alternate Loki's, that don't fit into my existing collections but will not quit whispering to me. Maybe I should get them out in the Universe and see what happens.
Random Loki Variants Masterlist
Although Loki owns my heart, occasionally other variants set up camp in my head. I do like a bad boy, so I'm drawn to the Jaguar Villains variant and Jonathan Pine. Here are a few stories that have sparked over time.
Warnings: These tend to be darker, please read the tags!
Pairing: Thor-era Loki + Gender Fluid original character
Warnings: None needed for this chapter. Mostly introductions and, of course, thirst when Loki arrives.
Length: 1.3k
Summary: In which we meet Venn and Venn meets Loki and things don't go entirely to plan.
Chapter List
Full Master List of all works
“One drop of your blood will take you to Asgard. One drop of his will return you both to me. Complete the mission and the girl goes free. Fail me and it is her blood that will be spilled.”
That threat still echoing through my head, I blink my eyes open and take careful stock before I try anything as risky as moving. Cocooned in a warm blanket of gentle sunlight with a pillow of soft grass supporting my head I’m loath to move at all for fear that I might disturb the unfamiliar sense of peace. The only discordant note of tension in my entire body is the fierce grip I’ve managed to maintain on the ice cold marble in my left palm. Despite my attempts to ignore it, cramp soon starts to set in and I wince as I force my frozen fingers to release the priceless trinket from their grip. Rolling onto my back I hold the orb to the light, the faintest smear of my blood already drying to a muddy brown.
There is no need to confirm my current location. This charm is Amelie’s creation and even if she was forced to create it under duress, she’s far too skilled to fail at such a simple task. My legs are a little wobbly as I haul myself to my feet and send her silent prayer of thanks for her forethought in calibrating the orb to transport me to a deserted stretch of coast line, well outside the main city of Asgard, allowing me the precious time needed to gather myself and prepare for what lies ahead.
Shading my eyes with my hand I gaze out over the sea towards the shining city in the distance. Asgard looks beautiful from this vantage point, the angle of sun burnishing the golden walls and pillars until they gleam. Given different circumstances I’d love more time to explore its cobbled streets and leafy thoroughfairs but time is a luxury in short supply.
How long will his patience last?
A little to my left, an irregular opening in the cliff face catches my eye and further exploration swiftly reveals a small cave. Clearly at some point it has been used as a hideaway or bolt hole; there is a makeshift bed, musty from lack of use and no sign of recent visitors. Unconcerned by its dusty state, I take ownership, crossing my legs in front of me on the lumpy mattress.
Closing my eyes I breathe out slowly through my mouth and make a feeble attempt to gather my thoughts, but now that I’m upright, there is too much nervous tension flowing through my limbs to stay still for long. I need information more than I need rest and I’m not going to find it sitting here. Decision made, I shift my focus to the image of the shining walls of Asgard and teleport myself to the outskirts of the city. Slipping quietly and unseen through the gates, I make my way towards the centre.
My original intention is simply to mingle with the townsfolk and glean as much information as I can. A useful extension of my siren abilities is the ability to invert my glamour, reversing its effects and rendering me so insignificant that I’m almost invisible to everyone around me. Hidden by this illusion of mundane normality I allow myself to be drawn into the excited crowd.
There is to be a party, I learn: excited whispers swirling through the crowd speak of a grand ball to celebrate some victory or battle. Some of the details escape me, but the why is far less important than the when. By pure good fortune the event is planned for this very evening. I send up a silent prayer of thanks. If this good luck continues I can be in and out of Asgard and on my way within a few hours.
I’m about to leave to start my preparations when the crowd suddenly eddies around me and a fanfare sounds in the distance. A frisson runs through the assembled throng and the whispers intensify.
The Princes are riding out with their entourage!
Despite myself, I find the excitement infectious and suddenly I’m as keen as everyone else to catch a glimpse of the young princelings. My blood-soaked career has brought me giants, monsters and dark elves, but I’ve never seen an actual god and I have to admit, I’m curious.
The riders draw level and sweep past, the sun gleaming from Thor’s burnished armour and bronzed muscles. But I have little interest in Asgard’s shining son, my attention is firmly fixed on the younger sibling riding a pace or two behind, his expression thrown into dull relief by his brother’s brilliance.
Tall and lean, there is a stillness to his frame that is out of place within the jostling crowd. His pale features look starved of sunshine, as if the rays are playing favourites and choosing to illuminate the elder brother, while leaving the younger to the shadows. However, the belligerent set to his jawline makes me reconsider - maybe this one generates his own darkness.
Without warning, he reins in his horse, head tilted as if listening for something. Quite how he can hear anything over the cacophony of the crowd I have no idea, but that isn’t the only contradiction nor even the most compelling. My attention is snared by his broad shoulders which radiate a warrior’s strength, and the comparison to his hands which are almost gentle as they caress the reins, controlling his horse through will, not brute force.
Long, lean thighs taper around his mount, muscles clearly defined through the expensive leather. There is a lot of power in that rangy frame, but it isn’t fear that makes me wet my lips.
I’m staring at him…
I’m still staring at him…
What the hell?!?!?
More flustered than I like to admit, I jerk my eyes away. Get a grip, I tell myself, now is not the time for daydreaming. But against my own wishes and my better judgement [which appears to have deserted me for the moment] my eyes are drawn back to his lean frame and those deeply corded muscles. As I glance up at his face I freeze in shock. His gaze is now burning directly into mine - curious, challenging and disconcertingly direct.
An arrogant smile kicks up the corner of his mouth, as if daring me to be the first to look away. I have no idea how he is able to see me, but as the crowd streams past, leaving us alone, I’m not about to waste an opportunity. I return his grin at the exact moment I release the tight leash on my Siren side and turn up the volume. Now all I have to do is wait for the inevitable reaction. At this range he should be babbling oaths of love and adoration within seconds. However, Loki’s expression merely tightens and his gaze traces an insolent path down my body to my feet before returning slowly to my face. To my horror it’s my cheeks that flush! Then the arrogant smirk becomes a sneer and he wheels his horse around, setting off after the other riders without a backward glance.
What the hell just happened? That was… well… rude! Am I losing my touch?
A lone guard marches past, detached from his platoon. Taking the full force of my unleashed Siren, he stumbles, drops his spear, trips over the pointy end and winds up on his knees wearing a vacant, goofy smile. I shake my head. Nope, I’m just fine, clearly the issue lies with Loki.
It doesn’t matter. I saw Loki’s expression as he watched his older brother, and fortunately lust isn’t the only deadly sin I can manipulate.
Pairing: Thor-era Loki + Gender Fluid original character
Warnings: None needed for this chapter. Mostly introductions and, of course, thirst when Loki arrives.
Length: 1.3k
Summary: In which we meet Venn and Venn meets Loki and things don't go entirely to plan.
Chapter List
Full Master List of all works
“One drop of your blood will take you to Asgard. One drop of his will return you both to me. Complete the mission and the girl goes free. Fail me and it is her blood that will be spilled.”
That threat still echoing through my head, I blink my eyes open and take careful stock before I try anything as risky as moving. Cocooned in a warm blanket of gentle sunlight with a pillow of soft grass supporting my head I’m loath to move at all for fear that I might disturb the unfamiliar sense of peace. The only discordant note of tension in my entire body is the fierce grip I’ve managed to maintain on the ice cold marble in my left palm. Despite my attempts to ignore it, cramp soon starts to set in and I wince as I force my frozen fingers to release the priceless trinket from their grip. Rolling onto my back I hold the orb to the light, the faintest smear of my blood already drying to a muddy brown.
There is no need to confirm my current location. This charm is Amelie’s creation and even if she was forced to create it under duress, she’s far too skilled to fail at such a simple task. My legs are a little wobbly as I haul myself to my feet and send her silent prayer of thanks for her forethought in calibrating the orb to transport me to a deserted stretch of coast line, well outside the main city of Asgard, allowing me the precious time needed to gather myself and prepare for what lies ahead.
Shading my eyes with my hand I gaze out over the sea towards the shining city in the distance. Asgard looks beautiful from this vantage point, the angle of sun burnishing the golden walls and pillars until they gleam. Given different circumstances I’d love more time to explore its cobbled streets and leafy thoroughfairs but time is a luxury in short supply.
How long will his patience last?
A little to my left, an irregular opening in the cliff face catches my eye and further exploration swiftly reveals a small cave. Clearly at some point it has been used as a hideaway or bolt hole; there is a makeshift bed, musty from lack of use and no sign of recent visitors. Unconcerned by its dusty state, I take ownership, crossing my legs in front of me on the lumpy mattress.
Closing my eyes I breathe out slowly through my mouth and make a feeble attempt to gather my thoughts, but now that I’m upright, there is too much nervous tension flowing through my limbs to stay still for long. I need information more than I need rest and I’m not going to find it sitting here. Decision made, I shift my focus to the image of the shining walls of Asgard and teleport myself to the outskirts of the city. Slipping quietly and unseen through the gates, I make my way towards the centre.
My original intention is simply to mingle with the townsfolk and glean as much information as I can. A useful extension of my siren abilities is the ability to invert my glamour, reversing its effects and rendering me so insignificant that I’m almost invisible to everyone around me. Hidden by this illusion of mundane normality I allow myself to be drawn into the excited crowd.
There is to be a party, I learn: excited whispers swirling through the crowd speak of a grand ball to celebrate some victory or battle. Some of the details escape me, but the why is far less important than the when. By pure good fortune the event is planned for this very evening. I send up a silent prayer of thanks. If this good luck continues I can be in and out of Asgard and on my way within a few hours.
I’m about to leave to start my preparations when the crowd suddenly eddies around me and a fanfare sounds in the distance. A frisson runs through the assembled throng and the whispers intensify.
The Princes are riding out with their entourage!
Despite myself, I find the excitement infectious and suddenly I’m as keen as everyone else to catch a glimpse of the young princelings. My blood-soaked career has brought me giants, monsters and dark elves, but I’ve never seen an actual god and I have to admit, I’m curious.
The riders draw level and sweep past, the sun gleaming from Thor’s burnished armour and bronzed muscles. But I have little interest in Asgard’s shining son, my attention is firmly fixed on the younger sibling riding a pace or two behind, his expression thrown into dull relief by his brother’s brilliance.
Tall and lean, there is a stillness to his frame that is out of place within the jostling crowd. His pale features look starved of sunshine, as if the rays are playing favourites and choosing to illuminate the elder brother, while leaving the younger to the shadows. However, the belligerent set to his jawline makes me reconsider - maybe this one generates his own darkness.
Without warning, he reins in his horse, head tilted as if listening for something. Quite how he can hear anything over the cacophony of the crowd I have no idea, but that isn’t the only contradiction nor even the most compelling. My attention is snared by his broad shoulders which radiate a warrior’s strength, and the comparison to his hands which are almost gentle as they caress the reins, controlling his horse through will, not brute force.
Long, lean thighs taper around his mount, muscles clearly defined through the expensive leather. There is a lot of power in that rangy frame, but it isn’t fear that makes me wet my lips.
I’m staring at him…
I’m still staring at him…
What the hell?!?!?
More flustered than I like to admit, I jerk my eyes away. Get a grip, I tell myself, now is not the time for daydreaming. But against my own wishes and my better judgement [which appears to have deserted me for the moment] my eyes are drawn back to his lean frame and those deeply corded muscles. As I glance up at his face I freeze in shock. His gaze is now burning directly into mine - curious, challenging and disconcertingly direct.
An arrogant smile kicks up the corner of his mouth, as if daring me to be the first to look away. I have no idea how he is able to see me, but as the crowd streams past, leaving us alone, I’m not about to waste an opportunity. I return his grin at the exact moment I release the tight leash on my Siren side and turn up the volume. Now all I have to do is wait for the inevitable reaction. At this range he should be babbling oaths of love and adoration within seconds. However, Loki’s expression merely tightens and his gaze traces an insolent path down my body to my feet before returning slowly to my face. To my horror it’s my cheeks that flush! Then the arrogant smirk becomes a sneer and he wheels his horse around, setting off after the other riders without a backward glance.
What the hell just happened? That was… well… rude! Am I losing my touch?
A lone guard marches past, detached from his platoon. Taking the full force of my unleashed Siren, he stumbles, drops his spear, trips over the pointy end and winds up on his knees wearing a vacant, goofy smile. I shake my head. Nope, I’m just fine, clearly the issue lies with Loki.
It doesn’t matter. I saw Loki’s expression as he watched his older brother, and fortunately lust isn’t the only deadly sin I can manipulate.
Pairing: Thor-era Loki + Gender Fluid original character
Tags: NSFW / Smut [some] / Violence [much] / Interrogation / Knife kink / This is NOT a romance
Summary:
Half siren, half human, Venn has undertaken more unsavoury contracts than they care to remember, but killing a God will undoubtedly be their greatest challenge yet.
The question is not, can they charm their way close enough to slip a blade between Loki’s ribs but rather, will that be enough to fell the God of Mischief?
And if Venn fails, what price will be extracted in return?
A/N: Massive liberties have been taken with the original timeline and established events... don't come for me!!
As a Siren, Venn's appearance conforms to what is most desirable to the target. This means they can be perceived as either male or female depending on the audience.
I have written this story in first person and from Venn's perspective, to reduce the need for pronouns. But the surrounding cast of characters will refer to Venn as either he or she, depending on their personal desires and orientation.
doubly funny that I saw a compilation of all the corporate accounts like "aw thanks elmo, we're doing well" meanwhile all the flesh and blood real human people are extremely not okay
We’re moving back into Bratva territory, baby! I’m in the middle of writing Lord of Vengeance, the first book in the Bratva Lords Series.
The first story is Dmitri’s, the soon to be Pakhan of the Morozov Bratva.
https://mybook.to/hZ2zA
The girl races toward me, like a bird seeking shelter from the storm. She doesn’t realize I’m a far worse predator than the one she’s fleeing from.
I’m Dmitri Morozov, soon to be Pakhan of the most powerful Bratva in New York and St. Petersburg.
People run from me, not to me. Women may edge close, drawn by my money or power. But no one has ever sought protection in my arms before. She’s running down the hall of this luxury apartment building, desperately calling for me to save her. This sweet girl doesn’t realize she’s raced into the jaws of a monster, but I’ll punish everyone who’s hurt her.
tiktok is such an awful app, it's almost designed to feed you misinformation and expose you to insane discourse. unlike beloved tumblr, the app that feeds me misinformation and exposes me to insane discourse
No, no, no, you see on tiktok an algorithm feeds you misinformation. On Tumblr I feed myself misinformation from my charcuterie board of hand-selected unhinged mutuals.
New cover reveal! Rekindled - A Second Chance Scottish Mafia Romance.
Liam Fitzgerald - this insanely hot model - screams Lucas Wallace, who is Catriona MacTavish’s bodyguard. They dance around their feelings for each other for five exhausting years until one passionate night. She wakes up, happy and ready to build their new relationship. Lucas, of course, is one of those irritating honorbound men immediately reports himself to the Chieftain, who then sends him to Siberia to work with his friend’s Bratva. But when Catriona is kidnapped, Lucas is on the next plane back. He may have walked away, but he will never let her go. https://mybook.to/bkNvylr
Ah Arianna, surely what he did isn't THAT bad? I mean is Cormac not overreacting just a wee bit here? Could one of his brothers not talk him down? I swear, I was already looking forward to this tale, but now this just makes me even more excited. You really know how to deliver the fun.
you can just feel the self-congratulatory glee of whoever named this paint this color, like they truly thought they were so funny and i think you're so funny paint color naming man good job paint man
