With a promising squeeze of her hand, he had repeated the words "I will" before pushing her further into the escape pod, and fading away into his usual green glow.
That was the last time (Y/N) had seen him, or even heard from him. That was on the Statesman. When the ship with Asgardian refugees was under attack, (Y/N) had wanted to stay back and fight, for she was the commander of the army under Loki's rule. But her king - the only one she had truly been loyal to - had ordered her to mind the safety of the people escaping to Earth.
"We Odinsons will handle it here," he had said with his usual confident smirk.
But, for the first time in her life, she could not trust her king. Her fear - or maybe it was her instincts - had told her otherwise.
Several months ago, when Loki used to sit unchallenged on the throne of Asgard, he had described to her, in confidence, the ruthlessness of Thanos's ambitions, the extent to which this Titan could go in order to fulfill his dreams. And he was not the least ashamed to confide in her that he was scared of him; that even the thought of that monster scraped chills down his spine.
Despite all these, Loki had gone off to fight him. To save his people. To save his brother. All (Y/N) could do was beg the Norns for his safe return.
But apparently, the Norns did not hear her pleas. Thor had returned but without his brother, without the love of (Y/N)'s life. Without her betrothed.
New Asgard was built and, even though it took a lot of emotional effort and time, the survivors had gradually started calling it home.
But not (Y/N). Her home had a heartbeat. It had a warm embrace and caresses of soothing lips. Her home had magic radiating from his fingers.
And it was all gone. She had no home now.
----------
The story is complete! Read it here.
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This was an excerpt from a new WIP. Couldn't wait to share it! :)
Hi! I was wondering if you could write an angsty fic where loki dies and the reader just isn't able to cope with it? Your fics are just absolutely brilliant and the way you write angst is out of this world <33
...
loki x gn!reader
a/n: its not all canonically correct but-
*
you’re…
you’re awake. now.
maybe, you think. possibly, that’s true. maybe you’re awake, and possibly this is happening.
ellipses, and commas, and words, and air, they can’t. they can't explain this…
you’re awake, you’re sure. you’re awake, maybe.
it’s dark in your room. it’s dark in the house, still, because no one has turned on the lights. because you haven’t yet opened your eyes enough to look around, to care that it’s dark in your room.
everything is repeating itself. every moment, every breath of air, every blink.
you’re awake, now, awake from whatever dream you were having. you can’t remember, but, it’s left a taste on your tongue that is contradicting the very idea of a dream. a taste on your tongue that you…
you’re awake. you’re breathing, you’re blinking. your eyes aren’t open though.
possibly and maybe and maybe this is happening and maybe your eyes are open.
it’s dark in your room. it’s dark because you haven’t— no one has gotten up to turn the lights on. because usually you don’t have to get up to do that. you’d never really noticed before.
huh.
it’s all happening again. you’re breathing, blinking, you’re thinking that you’re awake. you’re awake, you’re awake, again and again and…
what dream were you having, again?
maybe, it was something about work. you remember stars, possibly. maybe, it was something about…
you shake your head. your eyes must be closed now because it’s still dark.
damn. you haven’t turned the lights on yet.
something about it, something poking you in the side makes you laugh, and laugh, and laugh and.
there’s a tickle in your side, a sore in your throat, a whisper in your ear. no, you just woke up. it’s not time to get up yet, it’s not time yet.
this is all so… strange. this is all so stagnant, so quiet. you’re missing something, it feels, but you don’t remember.
maybe, you’re awake. possibly, you’re blinking. it’s too dark, though.
you wonder why.
you’ve been wondering that a lot, lately, something says. you don’t know what it is. you don’t know why it’s speaking. you don’t know if your eyes are closed.
you’re breathing, again. it must be you, the sharp inhales that keep the room from disappearing. it must be you who’s sitting like this.
you must be blinking, you know now, because when you close your eyes again there’s a flash of color. there’s something in sight.
…you thought the room was dark though.
purple. you see… purple.
you open your eyes. you’re forgetting something. you know it, you can’t feel it in between the inhales and exhales and the flickering light coming through the window.
you see it when you close your eyes again. you don’t remember, you can’t tell what it is.
you were asleep then. you’re awake now.
something in you is gasping for air, jumping up and clutching onto your chest and trying to breathe-
you’re still in bed though. it’s warm here. it’s warm here, cold everywhere else.
you see purple… and black black black. you’re not sure when it got so dark. but there’s purple, flashes of colors you cant comprehend, and then black, and then it’s cold again.
you can’t remember what this is, you won’t remember what this is.
you take another breath, it’s the only sound in the room, the only thing to drown out the dark.
no one has turned on the lights yet. you should probably get up but…
no. no… you don’t need to get up yet.
more color. more whispers. more things that you can’t hear and don’t want to see. it’s dark in here, but when you close your eyes you see too much.
you can hear his voice.
you can’t remember what this is, you won’t remember what this is.
you can hear it between the exhales that are much too loud now, your breathing which has quickened, increased, the air which has become harder and harder to feel.
you can hear his whispers and his words and his breathing-
it’s so dark in your room. you really need to get up, get up and turn the lights on. get up get up get up…
there’s a sense of panic filling you, an indescribable feeling that you don’t want, don’t need, don’t want. you’re awake now, you remember, you’re awake and you don’t want to be.
and you don’t want this dream- this memory- this thing that is poisoning you from the inside out, making it hard to breathe for you, as well, even though there isn’t a hand around your throat.
it’s so dark in the room, but when you open your eyes, you see purple and green. green so much green, and then it’s gone, and then he’s gone and it’s just black.
you can’t remember what this is, you won’t remember what this is.
it’s so dark, so quiet. so unbearable.
you’re… awake. now. but you weren’t when it happened.
when loki was promising you, whispering to you, telling you things that you couldn’t hear at the time, but are so desperate to hear now.
he was saying something but you were just watching a fist clench itself. you weren’t paying enough attention and you realize that now.
you were half asleep when he was speaking last, half asleep in a world of good dreams and nice realities.
you should’ve woken up, you know now.
but you didn’t, and when loki was charming, when he was promising and promising, when he was trying his very best— the best he had —you were asleep then. you’re awake now.
and it’s too late.
you remember the fire, the burning smell. the skin that was crinkling up like a bag, the voices that were dying out like a battery, the eyes that were still as wind when your house is on fire.
you remember screaming, before that, eyes that were terrified, frightened for something that none of you saw coming. it had already been enough that day, you were so tired. you remember.
you remember his skin on yours, hours before. his smile, so pleased, so proud. his skin on your cheek and your neck and your side and lower and lower and. every inch of you he touched, every smile he lent your skin, never expecting it back.
he was riding a high. his brother— so stoic, so sad, so mournful. his bother had offered his praise, offered his gratitude and loki was still riding that high when he came to see you.
when he checked the wounds on your face, the superficial cuts on your skin. when he told you it looked like you would make it through the night.
when he promised to see to it himself…
he was smiling, so big, so wide, so proud, so pleased.
he was kissing your skin and your scars and whispering his own praises in between.
you rode that high with him and didn’t stop. neither of you could stop this feeling, sickeningly sweet, beautiful and strange.
you feel asleep between whispers, between breathless kisses and wonderful ‘hello’s.
you woke up to be ripped out of bed, stripped away from the warmth, loki’s smile— gone.
you barely even remembered that feeling from hours before when loki pulled you from room to room.
“i’m not leaving you alone,” he said.
you wanted to scoff at that, wanted to tell him that he knew all too well that you could take care of yourself. you wanted to offer to show him— again —if he’d like. but you saw that fear in his eyes, the same one from before, and so, you didn’t say anything.
you followed him, tripping over your own clothes, falling because of his speed. he didn’t seem to notice, or he didn’t care.
and then thor was running with the two of you, all of you following the sound of screams, the terrified eyes you couldn’t see yet.
when you entered the room, you were looking towards the ship in front of yours. giant, menacing. you were— as so many others were —staring at the colossal thing in front of you.
but when you looked to loki, he was staring the opposite direction.
and you don’t want to remember this but you do, you do, and you wish you didn’t.
the next minutes we’re a blur. but still, every scream seemed individual, every crash, every yelp. you could hear them all, but there was nothing you could do to stop them.
you tried— tried to fight, tried to keep them away from these helpless people, tried to aide to every scream, every explosion.
but, by the time you’d made it back on your feet, it was too late.
you remember feeling it, you remember so much.
blood, was already lost, you knew then, feeling the rumble of the ground beneath you.
when he walked in the room, a mystery to you, unlike anything else, loki didn’t seem to flinch. you looked to him and he was standing still.
holding onto your arm, like he was trying to tie you down.
he didn’t demand anything like thor, didn’t run cowering away from the man— man? —standing in front of you.
it only took a look to tell that they’d met before, that loki— somehow —knew what was about to happen.
you wanted to ask, but he wasn’t even looking at you.
you wanted to know, but he wasn’t listening.
there were so many minutes that passed, so many moments, and still you watched and watched, every second, as these people explained— as they told you your ending before it even came.
flashes of color and screams and pleas that you finally realize now were coming from you.
you wanted to run and hide and hide and. to be awake. you’re awake now.
you didn’t even notice when loki stepped away, just a few feet. you didn’t notice when you subconsciously followed. when you kept your guard up, kept yourself close to him.
you didn’t noticed when a hand was coming down towards you, when you were frozen to the ground. you didn’t notice so many things, so many important things, until you were in someone else’s arms, and you were looking at loki instead.
until you were begging yourself to break free. pleading again and again.
“the tesseract.. or, your lovers head?” he asked. thanos, who loki knew.
there was more screaming, more murder piling up as each second passed and you might’ve been the next.
something was telling you that this was the end.
still, loki didn’t flinch. he didn’t move, didn’t breathe. you couldn’t see him properly, couldn’t see anything as pressure on the side of your face became too much.
but through the sliver left of your vision, you saw the purple light on his face, you saw the desperation that was carefully hidden between layers and layers of wall. the guard that you had only just started to see past.
you didn’t see the flash of blue though, didn’t hear loki’s words, didn’t notice his magic and didn’t know what was happening. you didn’t see the crash and you don’t remember.
but you remember, you remember being dropped to the floor. you remember that feeling as you crashed to the ground, as loki grabbed you once again and you felt that skin…
so many hours ago, this would’ve been pleasant.
but now, but now, he was whispering in your ear, he was trying to get you to wake up from whatever you’d fallen into.
“c’mon, darling. it’s okay, i’ve…”
but you were so tired now, so tired watching this, so tired fighting.
and his voice was too soft, it was tricking you. it was luring you down to somewhere else.
you barely felt it when loki was throwing you towards thor, rushing after his prized possession, trying to keep it away from the monster standing in front of you all.
you were so tired.
you barely noticed loki pausing, barely noticed his charming words, his fake smile. you didn’t see it all, your mind was fogged by whatever thanos had put into it and you couldn’t see.
just flashes, just colors, just green green green.
“…undying fidelity…”
you tried to choke something out then, tried to say something to thor or maybe to loki, or maybe you were just moaning. you don’t know.
but you could feel it when thor’s breath quickened. you could feel it and so you tried to open your eyes, tried to look at loki, tried to wake yourself up.
the last thing, the very last.. thing, you saw was him.
so small, so fragile, so beautiful.
his neck, so small, so fragile.
you might’ve screamed, but now you think that you must have been too tired. you might’ve tried to break free, but your legs were jelly.
last thing you heard, was your name, was a whisper.
but you couldn’t really hear it. you were so deep down so far down that you couldn’t hear anything.
and loki was too far gone, too restricted, too much, too little, not enough. and he never got to finish his sentence.
and then it was dark dark dark.
you were asleep then.
and you’re asleep now, you think.
you cant be awake because this didn’t happen, because this isn’t a memory. after all, this is just a nightmare, because loki hasn’t even gotten up to turn on the lights so you can’t be awake yet.
something else in you is pleading for another whisper, for another word.
you whimper. you cry. but you cant feel anything, and it’s too dark to see and you don’t want to close your eyes because you cant see that again.
it’s all so blurry, so unfocused, and you know you should’ve, should’ve been awake then, should be awake now— loki should’ve, he should’ve woken you up-
…this isn’t real.
this isn’t a feeling, this isn’t a day. this is dark and cold and you’re not out of bed yet so clearly you’re not awake.
you whimper again when you close your eyes. you can hear the screams, echoing off the walls.
“get up,” something says, but you’re not listening.
you close your eyes again. there’s something familiar about this.
“darling,” another voice whispers but it’s not enough. it’s not what you want to hear and so you don’t move.
it’s dark in your room, and you’re not blinking. your eyes are open.
you can’t remember how long it’s been. and you can’t remember what loki was saying.
you can’t remember, cant think of what he was trying to tell you, you can’t remember his last words or yours and you can’t remember if this is a dream or not.
you want to feel his skin again, you want those smiles back, you want his praises, you want his quips, you want you want…
he’s gone, a voice tells you. it was screaming earlier.
he’s gone, you think. you can’t remember if you’re awake or not now, or if you’re supposed to wake up for something today…
he’s gone, your eyes blink, flash color. purple? you wonder. green? you’re curious.
he’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone…
ellipses, and commas, and words, and air, they can’t. they cant explain this…
