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.... Can we please get back to the project? Can we PLEASE get back to the project?
so uhhhhhhhhh y’all want a preview snippet of the “opposite set of people die in infinity war” thing
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Two hours and thirty-six minutes following the annihilation of half of all life in the universe, Loki finds himself on his knees in one of the many aircrafts stationed in this Midgardian docking bay, elbow-deep in wires.
This place — this country, since apparently that’s what Wakanda is — as far as he can tell is home to the most advanced technology available on the planet. Given that this is Earth, that’s not saying all that much, but… well. It’s workable. More workable than anything Loki saw on his last visit to this planet, anyway, and for that much he supposes he has to be grateful. Small mercies.
Oh, and God knows you’re at a dire shortage of those right now, aren’t you?
Loki squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. He takes a breath, banishing that voice yet again. He sends it back to the corners of his mind where he’s boxed up every shred of coherent thought for the last two and a half hours.
Every thought that isn’t get the hell off this planet.
Every thought that isn’t numbing cold calm.
Every thought that isn’t entirely focused on the task in front of him.
It will take a bit of creativity, and a lot of finagling with the ship’s internal wiring. Actually, given that Loki is very, very far from an expert on ship mechanics and rocket science, it will take a lot of creativity, and probably a good deal of spells here and there, too. A spell to keep the ship producing oxygen in the vacuum of space. Another spell to give the thrusters enough power to escape Midgard’s gravity. Yet another spell to protect himself in the event that the actual owners of this ship take offense to his borrowing of it; after all, he’s not looking to be shot out of the sky before he’s even breached the upper atmosphere.
Perhaps some sort of cloaking spell would—
“I am Groot?”
Loki jolts, nearly smacking his head into the top of the wiring compartment.
When he extricates himself and looks over his shoulder, he finds the young Flora colossus standing in the open doorway to the ship, staring at him. Miraculously, that little handheld game of his is nowhere to be seen, and Loki finds that the prolonged eye contact is a touch more uncomfortable than it should be, coming from a teenage twig.
He waits about three seconds for Groot to elaborate, and when no further explanation is forthcoming, Loki asks, “What does it look like I’m doing?”
Groot shrugs. “I am Groot.”
“Exactly.”
Satisfied, Loki turns back to his task.
If he can just figure out where the thrusters are connected—
“I am Groot?”
Loki stops again, shooting him a look. “Oh, I’m sorry, I was unaware I had to run everything I do by you first. What the hell do you mean, why didn’t I tell you?”
“I am Groot.”
“No, you most certainly are not coming with me.”
“I am Groot.”
“No. You are not.”
“I am Groot.”
Loki exhales roughly through his nose, pressing the heel of his palm into his own forehead.
“This is not a debate.”
“I am Groot!”
Loki has never, in all his long life, ever wanted so much to track down whatever Fate is responsible for this turn of events and throttle them wherever they stand. Because— how? How did he end up here? How is he of all people alive at the end of the world, at the end of everything, alone on this godforsaken rock with no easy means of escape and a talking adolescent tree who’s convinced that they’re… what, friends? Because they fought together? Because they had a common enemy?
Have, his mind helpfully supplies. You have a common enemy.
Present tense.
Because the bastard’s still alive.
Loki drops his hand. Shakes his head. Takes yet another carefully controlled breath.
“You cannot come with me. The rest of your… friends,” Loki says, squinting because he’s unsure what the tree’s relations to that motley assortment of species actually was, “are likely going to come here looking for you.” He turns his back on Groot, facing the wiring compartment again. “If you leave, you’ll miss them.”
“I am Groot.”
Loki opens his mouth. Shuts it. Rolls his eyes. “Yes, assuming they’re still alive. But my point stands.”
“I am Groot.”
He almost laughs. Almost. There’s a hollow, bitter sort of humor in the idea that he would even begin to entertain the idea of staying here on Earth. The sort of humor that rubs the wrong way along the edges of his grief.
Do you really think it’s a good idea to go back to Earth?
“That is not happening.”
“I am Groot?”
“Because there is nothing for me here,” Loki all but growls, and he rips a wire out of its socket without thinking.
Damn it. Damn it. That was likely something vital.
“I am Groot.”
“There is no reason for me to stay on this planet—”
And there again, out of nowhere, like a blinding jolt, like the magic he used on the Valkyrie all those ages ago or — Norns, was that really only a few days ago? — Loki sees it at the forefront of his mind again, he sees Thor taking a single step forward and collapsing into ash, he sees his own magic desperately reaching out and doing absolutely nothing to stop it, and it’s all so vivid that it briefly knocks the air from his voice. He feels bile rising in his throat all over again before he manages to swallow it down.
“There is no reason for me to stay on this planet,” he repeats, so calm now that his voice is foreign to his own ears. “I’m leaving, and—”
“I am Groot?”
“It’s not your concern where I’m going.”
“I am Groot!”
“It’s not your concern what I’m going to do, either. As I said—”
“I am Groot!”
Loki slams his fist down onto the top of the wiring compartment hard enough to leave a dent, and the next second he’s on his feet. He whirls around and snaps, “I don’t know! Is that what you want to hear? I don’t know where I’m going to go, and I don’t know what I’m going to do!” And oh, there it is, the anger rising like an unstoppable tide, boiling, filling him up to the throat, sending his voice into a crescendo as he stomps forward and shouts, “Perhaps I’ll find whatever miserable corner of existence Thanos has hidden himself in and I’ll tear him limb from limb myself, or more likely I’ll die trying, or perhaps I’ll simply find a bar at the furthest corner of the universe and drink myself into oblivion, but I am leaving, and you are not coming with me, and whatever happens after that is no concern of yours because we are not friends.”
The shouting should be cathartic.
It’s not.
He’s left feeling hollow and out of breath, his lungs scraped raw, with an ache pulsing from the side of his fist and not a single ounce of satisfaction to show for it.
Groot doesn’t look angry. He looks like he’s trying to look angry, but it’s far too easy to see through the bravado. It’s easy to see that Loki’s words cut exactly as deep as he’d intended them to.
Something unpleasant coils in Loki’s gut, and he sighs.
“Look—”
But before he can say anything else, a deep reddish-purple light washes over the docking bay outside the ship’s door.
The light comes on and then fades, comes on and then fades. An alarm, clearly, and for a moment Loki feels his heart plummet down into his stomach. For a moment he finds himself standing on the Statesman all over again, listening to the desperate voice of a long dead Asgardian over the ship’s communication systems. We are under assault, I repeat, we are under assault… Engines are dead, life support failing… This is not a warcraft, repeat…
The voice that comes over the communications system this time is not one that Loki has known, if distantly, for most of his life. This time it’s the voice of this planet’s — no, that’s not right, this country’s king, the one who’d commanded all those armies on the battlefield right up until the end. The one with the strikingly impenetrable war suit.
“Attention: A new breach has been detected in the upper atmosphere directly above Wakanda,” King T’Challa’s voice echoes through the whole place. “Anyone who is still in fighting condition, be at the ready.”
“I am Groot?”
Loki gulps. “I have no idea.”
Honestly, he’s almost… relieved at the prospect of having to fight off yet another wave of enemies. Finally, someone to take out all this directionless anger at— oh, but that’s not true, is it, it’s not directionless, you know exactly who you’re angry with, and it’s not even Thanos—
Hell, perhaps he’ll even die properly this time.
But then the communications system comes right back on not a second later, and this time, it’s not the King. Instead it’s a young girl whose voice Loki has never heard at all.
“Everyone, disregard the call to arms! The newcomers have made contact and they come in peace. Repeat, please disregard the call to arms. The newcomers have made contact and they come in peace.”
There’s a click as the communications system shuts off.
The red light does not come back.
Groot nervously wrings his hands together. He seems to have entirely forgotten Loki’s outburst in light of this news; and really, Loki mostly has, too.
“I am Groot?”
Loki shrugs. He finds, surprisingly, that he hopes it is Groot’s family arriving after all, and he’s not sure whether that’s out of genuine concern for the little tree or because it means Loki will finally be left alone. He doesn’t care enough to parse it.
“Could be.”
“I am Groot?”
“You should go to the palace’s upper level,” Loki tells him. “That’s likely where they’ll have made contact.”
But then there’s yet another click from above, and the young girl’s voice comes back.
“And Loki,” she says, startling him. “If you are all finished attempting to hijack one of my ships, would you be so kind as to make your way up to my lab? The newcomers are asking for you.”
Shameless
Uhhhhhhhh so I just checked the word count on my fanfic series? And uhhhhh its at over 100k? Like...I’ve managed to write a literal novel? And it’s not half done? Pls send help?
UM to that ask i accidentally deleted about what kind of wanda i imagined in love and loathing UMM… i think the way i imagine her i wrote in most detail in chapter three of the series but i could probably only answer you once i finish the series as in like.. her character analysis
and im posting this rn cuz im trying to think of a little fic to write in the background while i can and it might be the love and loathing drabble i mentioned before
i just need to reread the series and also think through how i wanna further establish things, mainly because i think the way i view what i want to write has changed but i do want to also challenge myself as a writer and revisit the story and dynamic i had written in love and loathing
but i think i need to put realistic thought into the series now and i want this drabble to ground things
sorry for not posting in like. ever. weird things happening. i've been hearing my moms voice lately. this is weird :3 haha!
anyway, House of Leaves is a trip
Catch me lying in bed staring at the home on my monitor across the room for the last two hours
