#loki mcu

[solitarycreaturewrites]

An Old Wives’ Tale

Summary: You're officially past due, and you're desperate to have this baby. You enlist the help of your storm-summoning brother-in-law to move things along.  Characters: Dad & husband Loki x mom & wife reader, brother-in-law Thor  Trigger warnings/General tags: No use of Y/N, mentions of late-term pregnancy pain, pure, unadulterated fluff as always Word count: 1.1K Author's notes: Part of my Cottage AU. See my masterlist here. Taglist: @tinyshyteacup, @eclipseahmed3 (please leave a comment if you'd like to be tagged in future posts!) Divider by @olenvasynyt

You were officially past due. Your belly hung heavy like overripe fruit on a branch, ready to snap at any moment. 

In the week leading up to your due date, you had tried everything to induce labor. A vast array of spicy foods. As much exercise as you could endure. A desperate prayer to any god who would hear you. None of it worked. Your prayers seemed to fall on deaf ears.

The Asgardian midwives you had trusted to care for you and guide you through your pregnancy assured you that you were perfectly healthy, that your daughter was safe in your womb, and that she would make her glorious appearance when fate decided it was time.

But that didn’t help the dull ache in your ribs that flared whenever your daughter squirmed inside you.

You had almost rolled your eyes during the midwives’ last visit, but Loki had placed a consoling hand atop yours. 

“I am not trying to silence you,” He reminded you gently after they’d left, brushing his thumbs tenderly over your cheeks. “I am simply trying to protect your peace. Now, please tell me all of your worries, that I may listen and alleviate them.”

You burst into tears against his chest.

Now nearly a week past due, Loki insisted on you resting as often as you could. He stood straight as an arrow at the kitchen counter, preparing dinner. You envied his perfect posture now more than ever.

You sat at the table, your swollen feet propped up on an ottoman. You rubbed the stretched expanse of your stomach absentmindedly. As you looked out the window into your garden, you realized how much you had neglected it over the past few weeks. Your flowers wilted lifelessly. Your vegetables had developed leathery, rotting patches at their bases. Weeds were beginning to creep up your trellises. 

It didn’t help that it had been an unusually dry Autumn. New Asgard hadn’t seen so much as a sun shower in days.

“We could really use a good storm.” You mumbled to yourself. 

“Did you say something, darling?” Loki turned to face you, concerned and doting.

Then, the thought struck you like lightning on a distant prairie. An old wives’ tale. 

Babies are often born in storms.

You looked up at your husband with a mixed expression of desperation, conviction, and hope. 

“Call your brother.” 

With the promise of a home cooked meal prepared by his dear brother, Thor made his way to your cottage in the hills. His hearty knock rattled the doorframe. 

“Come in!” You called urgently from the kitchen table. The door creaked open. Thor ducked as he crossed the threshold and smiled sympathetically at you. 

“Hello, sister.” He leaned down to wrap you in a brotherly embrace.

“Thank you for coming.” You draped your arms around his broad shoulders and gave his back a pat. When he pulled away, you motioned to the empty seat beside you. “Please, sit.” 

Loki placed a colorful, well-balanced plate in front of his brother. A seasoned salmon filet, mixed vegetables, and crispy potato wedges sprinkled with herbs. Adjusting to life without servants preparing meals had been a bit of a struggle, but you had taught him well. 

“Thank you, brother.” Thor grinned teasingly up at Loki. 

“You’re very welcome,” He answered curtly. “Though I advise you not to expect this treatment in the future. I am only doing this to ease my wife’s burdens.”

Thor chuckled in response and began to eat. “So,” He said in between chewing. “Why have you summoned me, sister?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but were cut off by a sharp kick, which caused you to gasp. Your daughter, startled awake by the voices around her, was seemingly expressing her frustration the only way she knew how. You winced and rubbed your stomach, trying to appease her.

Loki noticed. He always noticed. He reached down and pressed his palm to your side, a warm light emanating from his hand. A tingling sensation spread like carbonated bubbles through your torso. You exhaled slowly as the pain dissolved. Your daughter stretched, then settled. Like balm to a wound.

“Thank you.” You whispered and gave his arm a grateful squeeze. You steeled yourself and returned your attention to your brother-in-law, who had nearly cleared his plate at this point. 

“Could you please summon a storm for me?”

“Of course, but…”—He paused to swallow a bite—“Whatever for?”

“It’s an old wives’ tale,” You began. “Some people believe that the drop in barometric pressure during a storm… can… induce…” You gestured vaguely, hoping Thor would catch on. Unfortunately, he only stared at you, his brow furrowed in confusion. 

“Induce… what?”

Your face fell. 

“Labor, brother.” Loki sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. 

“Ah!” Thor broke into a wide, delighted smile as understanding dawned. “You wish to evict the child!”

“Something like that, yes,” You laughed, despite yourself. “I don’t need a hurricane. Just a few hours of rain and thunder. Worst case scenario, the baby resists and my hydrangeas get the water they desperately need.” 

Thor laughed, his booming voice shooting up to the weathered ceiling beams. Your daughter jumped inside you.

“The child will be in your arms by this time tomorrow. You have my word.” He vowed, his eyes sparkling with determination. 

“I’ll hold you to it.” You gave him a watery, cautiously optimistic smile—but optimistic nonetheless. 

Shortly after Thor left, the storm began. It started with a light patter of rain against the roof and windows, which quickly turned into a downpour. Eventually, the thunder began its slow descent over the hills, echoing through the peaks and valleys. 

“I should warn you,” Loki drawled as you both climbed into bed. “If this plan of yours works, my brother may request to have the child named after him.”

“If it works, I just might grant that request.” You huffed as he pulled the quilted blanket over your shoulders.

He chucked and leaned in for a kiss, which you happily returned. 

“This may be our last night as a duo.” He said softly, running his fingertips along your arm. Your eyelids began to droop with bone-deep exhaustion. 

“Here’s to hoping.” You murmured, your vision dimming like a flickering candle.

He pulled you close, the swell of your bump pressed carefully against his midsection, as rain poured down the window in a rippling current.

In the deep hours of the night, you jolted awake to a rolling sensation that crested at the highest point of your belly and tightened in your pelvis. 

You reached over and shook Loki awake. He was instantly alert, his hand flying to your stomach, protective magic sparking from his fingertips.

“It worked. It’s starting.” You whispered breathlessly in the dark. 

End.

[horridcarnival]

hai😊

[horridcarnival]

drawings of loki and mobius kissing

[petertism]

why do people forget loki remains the same size as a jotun, like he was born premature and small

[ineedcoffee42]

im reading the loki book and, im about half of it, and im very very conflicted

i obviously ship Loki and Theo, but im not sure what to hope for the canon, like, i know the author and i know she’s capable of making those two end up togheter, but i think she tends more towards loki and amora

actually i think they have equal chances as ships, but usually those things are very predictable and its weird im not understanding where this is going

[zelllenka]

I'm preparing for an artfight, ignoring the real world (the number of unfinished avatars makes me feel prehistoric horror)

I don't have a hitlist, but I set myself the task of taking revenge on all attacks.

https://artfight.net/~zelllenka

[solitarycreaturewrites]

Counting Her Breaths

Summary: Loki worries that he won't be able to be the father his newborn daughter deserves. All he needs is a little reassurance.  Characters: Dad & husband Loki x mom & wife reader (plus infant daughter) Trigger warnings/General tags: No use of Y/N, established relationship, some angst and a TON of comfort, pure, unadulterated fluff. I'm very new to this, please let me know if I missed anything! Word count: 883 Author's notes: Part of my Cottage AU. See my masterlist here. Taglist: @tinyshyteacup (please leave a comment if you'd like to be tagged in future posts!) Divider by @dividers-are-us

The cottage had settled into the evening. Crickets chirped softly outside. Cool, dusky moonlight filled the sacred space of your bedroom like mist.

Loki lay on your plush bed, cradling your infant daughter against his chest tenderly, the headboard creaking as he adjusted his position. She blinked up at her father slowly, her gaze locked on him. He stared back, counting the dark green flecks in her eyes, delicately brushing his index finger along the slope of her nose.

Only a few weeks old, she was still so small. Smaller still, when wrapped in his long arms. Yet somehow, her gentle weight pressed against his heart like a stone.

In his periphery, Loki heard a high-pitched squeak from the bathroom, the hushed patter of water against the porcelain tub coming to an abrupt stop. 

A few moments later, you emerged in a cotton nightgown, humidity pouring out in your wake. You crawled lazily into bed bedside him, the mattress dipping under your weight.

“What are you still doing up, my dear?” You leaned in to kiss your daughter’s forehead, breathing in the sweet, musky scent that still clung to her skin. “Is papa keeping you awake with his stories?”

He laughed quietly, though it seemed like it required great effort. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t ready to put her to bed yet. I wanted to spend just a little more time with her.” 

He fell silent then, his arms tightening slightly around her tiny frame. His mouth was downturned, his brow creased.

You knew that look. He didn’t speak, but it was loud in his mind. 

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” You whispered, brushing a dark curl away from his face.

Loki slowly turned to face you, his sharp features softened by vulnerability and the warm glow of your bedside lamps. “I fear I’m not… enough for her.”

You tilted your head, your chest clenching with worry. “What brought this on?”

“My father and I were always at odds with each other,” He said ruefully. “Truthfully, I worry that history will repeat itself. That I won’t be able to bond with her as she grows, to love her as she deserves. I’m scared that I’ll…” He grimaced, unable to push the words past the lump that formed in his throat.

“Become your father?” You supplied gently. He nodded then hung his head, ashamed. 

“Oh, Loki,” You ran a soothing hand up and down his back. “Your father’s inability to provide the love you deserved is not a reflection on you.”

His head snapped up, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He stared at you, desperate to believe you, silently begging your words to be true.

“She danced inside me whenever you touched me. She looks for you when she hears your voice. She always settles when you hold her. She already loves you very, very much.” You pressed a kiss to his temple, sealing the words against him like a promise. “Because you have always loved her as she deserves.”

The dam finally broke, silver tears spilling over his cheekbones. He let out a shuddered breath as you brushed them away with the pad of your thumb. 

“It’s hard enough for me to set her down for the night,” He whispered. “It makes me think of…” He trailed off, unable to speak again. He stared into the middle distance, searching for dark memories his mind couldn’t recall.

He didn’t need to say it. Laufey. He was thinking of Laufey.

“I can’t even begin to imagine abandoning her. Leaving her to perish alone. The mere thought of it makes me sick.”

“I hope that makes you realize that you never deserved that, either. You have always been worthy of the same kind of love you give our child, Loki.”

He inhaled sharply and nodded again, your words crashing against him like a wave. Your daughter cooed sleepily and nestled closer to him, as if she could burrow into his chest. Out like a light.

He gazed down at her with a watery smile, his heart cracking wide open.

“Are you trying to tell me it’s time for bed, little heart?” Loki chuckled, then wiped a stray tear away with his free hand. 

He rose fluidly and carried her to the bassinet beside you. He moved soundlessly, the normally creaky floorboards hushed beneath him. He paused at the threshold and lifted her slowly to press one last kiss to her forehead. 

“I’ll see you in the morning.” He whispered, his voice soft like a woven spell. 

Then, he laid her down with all the reverence of laying flowers on an altar. 

You held your arms out to him as he climbed back into bed. “She has you absolutely wrapped around her finger. How could you ever doubt your love for her?” 

He returned your embrace and brushed his lips against your shoulder, causing you to shiver.

“I suppose I need the reassurance sometimes.” 

As you drifted off to sleep, Loki laid awake, his elbow propped up against his pillow, his head resting in his hand. From his vantage point, he could see the smooth, rhythmic rise and fall of your daughter’s chest.

For a long while, he stayed like that, still and peaceful. 

Watching. 

Adoring.

Counting her breaths like stars.

End.

[ineedcoffee42]

every and each of my brain cells are built with references