Something I really don't like about adaptations of Norse mythology is that even outside of Marvel's sphere of influence, Loki is consistently portrayed as physically weak/an unskilled fighter who lacks muscle and relies solely on trickery and ranged magical spells when in the original mythology, he:
Is a god
Is a jötunn
Is a viking god who hangs out with other vikings and does viking things like crusades and warfare
Has previously engaged in extreme acts of violence (mauling Fimafeng, bludgeoning an otter-dverg with a rock, ripping off a troll's leg twice in Loka Táttur without any mention of a weapon) and will continue to do so until the day he dies (the battle of Ragnarök)
Is fated to die in battle against Heimdall, who also dies, which implies that the two are equal in strength, or that at the very least, Loki knows his way around a battlefield
Causes earthquakes every time he writhes in pain
Rarely uses magic outside of shapeshifting and is very unlikely to Eldritch Blast his way out of a situation
Summary: Loki catches you reading his planetary books one evening and offers to take you to see them in person.
Warnings: fluff?
WC: 340
tag list // ao3
The library in the palace was quiet, sunlight pouring in through the high, arched windows and dust motes drifting lazily in the golden light. You were curled up on the floor between two shelves, half-buried in a stack of books that seemed taller than you.
“Are you planning to devour all of Asgard’s archives in one sitting?” Loki’s voice slid into the silence, smooth and teasing.
You looked up, startled, only to find him leaning casually against the shelf, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Not all of them,” you countered. “Just the ones about realms I’ll probably never see.”
Loki tilted his head, studying you. Most people flinched at his presence, but you never had. It still caught him off guard sometimes. With a flick of his fingers, one of the books you hadn’t reached yet floated from the highest shelf and drifted down into your lap.
“You needn’t resign yourself to never seeing them,” he said, tone lighter than you expected. “If you wish, I could show you.”
Your eyes widened. “You’d… take me to another realm?”
He arched a brow. “Why does that surprise you? You’ve listened to me drone on about Jotunheim, Alfheim, Vanaheim, as though I’m reciting bedtime stories. It seems only fair to provide a proper tour.”
The thought made you laugh softly and Loki blinked, momentarily disarmed by the sound. He covered it quickly with a flourish of his cloak, settling gracefully onto the floor across from you.
“Very well,” he said, reaching for the book in your lap. “If we’re to plan a journey, we’ll start with the maps. But you’ll need to promise not to complain when I insist on the scenic routes.”
You smiled as he spread the book open between you. For once, Loki didn’t look like the sharp-tongued trickster or the shadow in Thor’s light. Here, with the two of you hunched over glowing maps and whispered secrets, he looked—just for a moment—like someone who belonged.
And maybe that was why you always stayed with him.
As a member of Epic's fandom, I was lucky enough to admire @kika-ila 's beautiful art works. As her commissions were open, I jumped on the occasion, and LOOK AT THIS MASTERPIECE!!! Loki & Sigyn, freed from the cave and that damn snake, are enjoying a moment of tenderness (before Ragnarok ^^').
LOOK AT THEM. They're so cute and in love <3
Grazie mille, Ilaria <3
Summary: The Kings catches you stealing from his private garden.
Warnings: MDNI!!! 18+!! 1.1k+ words! Reader steals food. Reader gets hurts, Loki heals reader. Frigga cameo, Semi mean Loki. (if u squint)
THIS FANFICTION BELONGS TO @man-o-mine!!! Do NOT steal!!!
The breeze flutters through Loki’s raven hair, as he rides horseback through the Asgardian forest. Leaves crunch under the eight-legged horse, Loki pulls on the reins, “Slow, Sleipnir.”
The gates of Loki’s private garden are open and this wouldn't be the first time these actions have happened over the past month. Loki will finally find out who has been stealing from his garden, one that only he should be able to step foot in.
Loki climbs off Sleipnir quietly, he pushes past the golden gates of the garden, his stead in pursuit.
Almost silent footsteps are heard near the fruit patch, a tiny, fragile body bends ungracefully to pick at the strawberries. Your body covered in built up dirt, feet bare, clothes close to shredded, your body littered with scars.
Loki steps closer, he has no doubt you are an omega by your scent, its light, faded smell of ancient books, honeydew, and ghost orchids. He watches as you quietly stuff fruit into your woven basket, one that is most definitely hand-made.
His feet move closer behind you, Sleipnir following silently, “This area is prohibited for commoners, only the King shall step foot in this garden.” Loki’s words come out gruffly and low.
You turn your head sharply, you drop your basket seeing the alpha behind you. Your head bows unconsciously, your omega side can sense the power of the alpha.
“Did you not read the warning sign on the gates?” Loki stands above you, body towering, scent strong, flowing through the wind.
Bowing your head further in submission and fright, voice quiet, “I don’t know how to read, sir.”
Loki looks at the omega astonished, “You can’t read? Do you even know how to read a clock?”
Your shoulders come up higher, a way to shield, a way to seem smaller, “No, sir.”
Loki just stares blankly at the omega, tiny body shaking from fear, from hunger, from weakness, “What do you know?”
“Not many things, sir,” you look at the ground like it’s the one talking.
“Do you know who the king is..?” Loki pinches the bridge of his nose.
“No sir,” you bite down on your wobbling lip. “Though you probably have to turn me into him, for trespassing.”
“I don’t think I will,” He takes the saddle blanket off his horse and hands it to you, “Take the blanket, and whatever you want from this garden.” Loki may be heartless in some ways, but not this way, no omega deserves to live this way, to look the way you do. All skin and all bones. He watches you take the blanket.
Loki feels a type of sadness for you, he slings his long legs over his horse, he leaves without a word.
Loki sits quietly in his study questioning, why would an omega not be able to read, why would an omega be so dirty, why would you be stealing? All omegas are to be taken care of, to be protected, to be worshiped. So why weren't you? Did you have a mate? You couldn’t… you didn’t seem to have one, but maybe he missed the mark, you were quite dirty. It just doesn't make sense. He had so many questions about you.
Throughout Loki’s kingly duties, his mind wonders to you, every step of the day is slower than usual.
The door of Loki’s study slowly opens, the scent of rose and sage hit his nose, and a twinge of death. A familiar scent, one he loves, “Mother.”
“My darling child,” Frigga walks past the study desk, standing beside Loki. “I know when something is on your mind, tell your mother.” Her voice is so soft, yet demanding.
Loki turns to his mother with a pondering look, “My garden, there was an omega.” A crease forms between his brows.
“The omega was smothered in dirt, torn clothes, their feet,” He huffs out a breath. “Their feet were bare. They couldn’t even read. They had no idea who the King was.” The longer Loki spoke the truth, the more troubled he felt. His scent turning sour.
Frigga’s hands cup his face, bringing him back to reality, “Child, you can’t prevent the past, but you can prevent an inferior future.” Her thumbs move over the creases in between his eyebrows softly. She kisses his forehead softly, within a second she is gone, magik engulfing her.
Loki huffs at his mothers words, confused and thankful.
Countless days go by with you on Loki’s mind. Everyday he hides in the darkness, as he watches you in his garden. You're always quiet, always respectful of his garden, never destroying what is his. Never taking too much, leaving small handmade gifts as a thank you.
You walk through his garden, feet quiet, breathing shallow, like everything is a threat. You bend slowly towards the small pond, a flask in your hand dips under the water, collecting the liquid.
Loki watches closely as you push off the pond's bank trying to stand, you whimper, one of pain. You immediately set yourself down, examining your foot.
Loki walks closer, hiding in the shadows of the tall trees.
A small sharp rock has lodged itself into the bottom of your foot. You try to squeeze it out but it’s no use, it’s stuck. A little curse falls from your lips, Loki can’t help but smirk. An omega with a potty mouth.
He steps from the shadows, looming over you, “Omega, I can help with that.”
Your body stills, you recognize the voice, it’s the Alpha from before, “Please… It’s stuck…” Voice meek and mild.
Loki has no idea why he asked. Maybe it’s the duty of being king or his alpha side.
You have no idea why you agreed, you have no idea who he is or what his name is. All you know is that he’s being nice, something rare in your life.
Loki lands on one knee gracefully, close beside you, his large hands take your bloody foot.
“Breathe in and out, slowly,” He focuses in on your foot, speaking incantations low. Green envelopes your foot, the feeling foreign. The rock slowly pushes through the surface, landing on the ground with a soft thud.
He observes your foot, the wound nowhere in sight, only dried blood in its place.
Loki pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket, dipping it into the pond water. He brings the fabric to your foot, wiping softly, the blood disappearing. When he looks up he finds that you're staring and your scent has somehow gotten sweeter, “Thank you, sir... I am in debt, I owe… you.”
Loki stuffs the handkerchief in his pocket, “No, you don't. Just be careful.” Then Loki stands, heading for the garden gates.
