21. “Some family we are. Be serious, ________. We don’t exactly look alike.” Thor and Loki cause IT'S RIGHT THERE.
I went for the spirit of the prompt here, rather than the letter…
“What did you mean?” Thor asked his brother, after the makeshift coronation.
Loki glanced up from the drink he had been nursing since the beginning of the little celebration. The others had long since wandered back to their quarters or in search of other diversions - the Valkyrie had gone through the wet bar in Thor’s quarters like a cyclone and moved on to other liquid pastimes hours ago - but he had remained, not quite participating, but staying just barely within the sphere of Thor’s personal space. He regarded the new king with careful curiosity. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
“Earlier. When…"
When you appeared on the ship like a long-forgotten ache. No signal, no request to board, never so much as a by-your-leave.
Thor knew in his gut how Loki had escaped Asgard’s destruction, and he was not yet ready to know for certain.
“When you said this–” He gestured to the dark patch covering his ruined eye. “–suited me.”
“Oh.” Something - a small something - in Loki seemed to unclench, and he smiled with an ease that Thor had thought never to see again. “I… I suppose I meant that it makes you look appropriately regal.”
A corner of Thor’s beard lifted in amusement. “We have met kings with both eyes before, you know. It’s not a requirement.”
“Perhaps not. But the king who loomed largest in our lives only had one eye, so it seems only fitting that you carry on the tradition.”
“You’re saying it makes me look like Father.”
The brothers stared at one another for a long, uncomfortable, silent time.
“Well,” said Loki at last, returning his gaze to his half-finished drink. “It’s about time one of us did.”
As a coping mechanism I’ve been thinking a lot of what Loki would have spelled out in his will for what he would want for his Most Dramatic Funeral Ever. Your thoughts, please. Dress code? Ceremony? Catering? Who is banned from ever attending? Who is the most passionate about making sure every directive is executed to the T?
okay, a) Loki 100% has every last detail of his own funeral planned out, I feel like he probably revised it after attending the last one (on Asgard, as Odin). he’s not leaving this shit to chance, people.
on a serious note (sorry) I feel like this is also the kind of morbid, vaguely fatalistic thing Loki would do when he was having a Bad Time, like, it’s simultaneously kinda grim (when he’s as young as he is) and also sort of weirdly flippant, which is such a Loki combination.
he wants everyone there in their best clothing, maximum style, anyone who isn’t looking completely stylish is getting kicked out. there’d better be plenty of complimentary speeches all around, he’d like the focus to be on eulogies and praise rather than excessive mourning though plenty of tears should also be present, yes, this is dictated in the writing.
he probably has an entire script written out with little notations that say [pause for sobbing here].
the list of who isn’t allowed to come at all ever includes Odin (yes, he’s dead, he’s still not invited), the Hulk, Doctor Strange, everyone on Asgard who pissed him off one time
the Avengers are on the “have to come” list because he’s into the idea of that kind of drama going down, and/or making them feel as awkward as possible, either way. they do not get to make speeches, though.
as for who’s in charge, realistically I feel like Thor is the person who is like “I’M GOING TO MAKE THIS PERFECT” because (whoops sad) since he couldn’t save Loki’s life he’s going to damn well make sure his funeral goes well, although once again they are short a body. though when Thor ends up getting too emotional to handle I feel like someone else tries to take over, but Thor’s like “NO NOPE MY FUNERAL” (only not like that) and gets super possessive about it.
but then please picture Loki rolling up late to his own funeral and being like “OH COME ON, STORE-BOUGHT CAKE, REALLY”
Just a note on your excellent Loki clothing meta, one particular detail about his clothing that I love is that they feature more shoulder pads than a 1980s dance party. All of Loki's costumes are designed with the super broad shoulders to mimic his brother's more masculine build which just helps hit that insecurity point home. Even his little jacket in prison has big wide shoulders, which he also ditches at his most vulnerable after Frigga's death.
MMMM I actually really love that
because the thing is, while I see Loki as having relatively broad shoudersl compared to how small his waist is like ?? they’re never gonna look as Broad As They Are?
esp. again with thor’s big arms
It’s really interesting because you have this guy who fundamentally could change his body to deal with these elements he feels dysphoric over, and I don’t think it would cause him problems - it’s just the way other people would look at him.
I actually have written meta about Loki’s hair before and how he greases it back kind of as a declaration of solitude and “no one touches me and I don’t want to be touched” and I feel that a lot of his armour gives that impression as well?? like it’s… padded, and it’s not vulnerable like
you can see thor’s lovely arms and you can see the shape of his chest and you can see the general?? silhouette of his body, whereas with loki it feels like you’d just touch leather
@zombiecheetah replied to your post “7 sentences meme”
HERE FOR HABIT
Ahhhh thank you! Habit won the vote by farrrrrr (which was surprising o.o), so I wrote more for it today and did a ton of brainstorming, it’s happeningggg <33
I like to think I keep people guessing ^^; I’m pretty outgoing, but I’ll also hold my tongue and hang back if I think I’m going to overwhelm people or intrude on pre-determined spaces. Basically, I’m quiet until I’m not. Once I find an in, the personality explodes. But I don’t like to be overbearing upon first meeting ^^;
24. Favorite part of your daily routine?
Hmmmm... masturbation? Honestly, my daily routine is pretty spotty as I am not regularly employed (yet). My favorite part of my day is seeing my girlfriend, but sadly I don’t see her every day ^^; I like it when she comes home form work though and tells me about her day tho c: At least I get that every day.
60. Ever won a competition? For what?
Not... not as such ^^; I do hold the undisputed title of “Most Opinionated” but that wasn’t so much a competition as I was simply bestowed with that title through spontaneous ordination. And I have been in several state-recognized choirs while I was in school. But on a personal, individual level, no not really. I’ve got some GPA awards and a broken trophy from little league. Or at least I had that before the fire...
148. What’s your favourite quote?
Oh, fuck, man. Too many, too many. I’ve got at least one favorite quote from each of my favorite books, favorite movies, favorite songs... it’s damn hard to pick just one. I’ve got quotes on love, on loss, on horror, on life. I have a poem memorized for each of the seven deadly sins (sort of). Hell, the entire canon of Welcome to Night Vale is worthy of living your life by. But... here, let’s try:
“How do our lives ravel out into the no-wind, no-sound, the weary gestures wearily recapitulant: echoes of old compulsions with no-hand on no-string: in sunset we fall into furious attitudes, dead gestures of dolls.”
-- William Faulkner, As I Lay Dying
Again, there’s a lot of great quotes in the world and if you want to pick my brain for some of the most moving I know, feel free. But this one always comes to mind whenever someone asks me for a quote because that sentence is goddamn, stark-raving beautiful. And it’s easily lost in the sea of insanity and incomprehensibility that is As I Lay Dying, but never forget, William Faulkner could fucking WRITE, man. And every so often, he’d pull shit like this, the beauty in the horror, to smack you upside the head with the fact that you can’t dismiss this. You can’t just say “well, we don’t need any of that” and let go, because you’ll miss the beauty too if you do. That sentence is nearly senseless, but read it out loud, seriously, it’s fucking beautiful. And tell me it doesn’t paint you a picture. Tell me you don’t get the essence of the question, even if you can’t understand the words. That’s fucking poetry, man. That’s fucking writing.
So there, have my favorite obscure Faulkner-ism. I promise, the rest of my favorite quotes make more sense ^^; (Usually.)
When One Stops The Kiss To Whisper “I’m Sorry, Are You Sure You-” And They Answer By Kissing Them More - Valki
Oh hey, remember whenI used to write prompt fills for people?
Loki looked up from his study of the cargo manifests at Brun’ssudden entrance to his quarters. “Unwelcome news?” he asked warily.
She let out a long growl of annoyance and tossed a datapaddown on his desk. “More damned candidates to interview and assess. Thor’s extremely determined to rebuild theValkyrior before we reach Earth.”
“As much as I enjoy making sport of my brother, I can’tblame him for wanting to recreate the heroes of old Asgard. The people needheroes right now. And preferably new, untarnished, non-cynical ones. But beforewe reach Earth…” Loki shook his head and sat back. “That’s simply unrealistic.”
“You think I haven’t said that?” she snapped. “But he’s toodamned convinced of my abilities to see reason. Apparently, the trainees from mylast two combat sessions are already distinguishing themselves in simulations.”She glanced at the prince. “Yourself included, if you’re interested.”
“I’m not.”
“Liar.” She sat down heavily on the corner of his desk. “I’mbeing punished for doing a good job.”
Loki snorted. “Come now. You’re being needlessly melodramatic.”
Brun opened her mouth to snarl at him, saw his lips curvingat the corners and the sardonic amusement dancing in his green eyes, and laughedsoftly. “Maybe. I mean, you’d know.” She twisted around and stretched her legsout to rest her booted feet on Loki’s thighs. “I spent the last thousand years runningaway from my responsibilities, and now that I’ve stopped, I’ve gotten… a lotmore than I bargained for.”
“I know how that feels,” said Loki dryly.
She rolled her eyes and kicked him lightly in the ribs. “Totallydifferent situations, Lackey.”
“I didn’t say they weren’t. But overall, better you than me.Responsibilities and I don’t mix well. Not direct responsibilities, anyway. I’ma much better delegator than I am a leader.”
“So, prince to villain to sugar baby to… office manager.Hell of a career progression.”
He shrugged. “All valid career moves. Besides, surelysitting behind a desk is the safest place for me.”
“There are plenty of ways you could find to raise holy hell,even from behind a desk,” said Brun, standing up and stretching. Smiling tohimself, Loki rose to his feet as well.
“You always do that.”
“Do what?”
“Stand when I do.”
“It’s polite to rise when a lady is standing,” said theprince courteously.
“I think you just hate it when I can look you in the eye, onyour level.”
“Perhaps,” Loki said, still smiling, though with a tiny edgeto his voice that told Brun she’d hit a nerve. “Then again, there areadvantages to a standing position versus a sitting one.”
“Is that so?” Brun stepped into his personal space, all butglaring a challenge up at him. “Such as?”
He pursed his lips for a second or two, considering, andthen he slowly raised his hands to her face. Sliding his fingers into her longbrown hair, he bent down and kissed her, pressing his lips first lightly tohers and then with more purpose.
Brun didn’t move.
“Sorry,” Loki whispered, breaking the kiss and looking away,“are you sure – if this isn’t—”
She reached up and tangled her hand roughly into Loki’s tumblinghair. The strands sparked as she wound them tightly around her fingers, holdinghis mouth against hers.
“There are far worse things,” she gasped, when they pulledapart, “than being stuck behind a desk.”
“Not very many.” He backed her against the aforementioneddesk and lifted her up, the better to devour her.
“And there are good things about it. You not getting killed,for example.”
“True enough.” He paused for breath, leaning his foreheadagainst hers. “Would you grieve, Brun, if I were killed?”
“…You’re going to be pissed no matter what I say.”
“Try me.”
“If I say no, you’ll accuse me of using you for my own ends.If I say yes, you’ll think I’m just being possessive.”
“But you are possessive, and you are using me for your ownends.”
Brun hummed as his lips moved down her neck. “So are you.”
“I know you’re afraid but we can’t hide in this closet forever.” Loki/Fandral
(I refuse to make the obvious joke…)
“This is not dignified, you know,” Fandral tried again, after a while.
“Dignity is absolutely the last thing on my mind,” Loki muttered.
The little bit of light from the foxfire he’d conjured shone a ghostly white glow onto the teenage boys, giving Fandral a fair glimpse of Loki’s sullen expression and the mess of anthracite hair that his fingers had disarrayed beyond all hope. “I came in here so I wouldn’t be bothered, not because I’m especially concerned about my pride right now.”
“Isn’t that why you’re wallowing in here? Your wounded pride?”
Loki shot him a sour look. “No one invited you to partake in my ‘wallowing’, so feel free to leave whenever you like. Preferably immediately.”
“No. Because if I leave, you’ll sulk in here until nightfall, then realize you’re hungry, sneak down to the kitchens for whatever you can scrounge, and then tomorrow morning the stable hands will find you curled up in a stall, dead to the world, and probably with tear stains on your face.”
Loki growled.
“I know you, Loki. You’re a creature of habit and honestly? Disgustingly predictable at times.”
“Fandral, I swear, you are less than five seconds away from being stabbed in a very intimate place. Now shut up and leave me alone.”
“Shutting up, your highness, but I’m not leaving until you are.”
“Well, as I don’t ever intend to emerge into the light of day again…”
Fandral shrugged. “I can sit here for as long as you can.”
“Why won’t you leave?”
“Because…” The older boy made a frustrated noise. “Well, perhaps I just don’t want you to be lonely.”
Loki shot him a look that was so startled, it was almost frightened. Then he doused the foxfire and plunged them both into darkness. Fandral’s nostrils twitched; the musty smell of the closet seemed more noticeable, in the dark.
“No one comes looking for me, anymore,” he muttered. “Thor used to, and Mother, and Sif, sometimes, but…” He let out a bitter little snort. “I suppose coddling me just became too boring for them.”
“Not for me. I mean – oh Norns, that came out wrong.” And Fandral blushed so hot that he thought he might set the hanging clothes alight.
But to his relief, Loki only chuckled. “That was not your suavest moment, Fandral, no. Thankfully for you, I’m not a tavern wench in need of sweet-talking to convince her into your bed.”
“Ah, my prince, we all need a few sweet words now and then.” Fandral reached out in the dark and found Loki’s shoulder. “Especially when our spirits are low.”
“…Thank you. I… thank you.”
“Although a bed does sound much more comfortable than a closet–”
Loki groaned and pushed his hand away. Fandral settled instead for resting it on Loki’s thigh, and the prince let it remain there.
“You are so ready to see the worst you cannot see what is right in front of your nose.” Logyn
Scenes from a happierAU…
Loki threw a stone into the water of the pond and watched itsink rapidly out of sight. “I still say execution would be more suitable.”
“You are the worst for wallowing, Loki, have I ever told youthat?”
“Frequently. But it’s only a matter of time until the axefalls, you may be sure of that.”
“Oh, may I, indeed?” Sigyn swung down from the statue’s arm,landing beside him with a soft thump. “Loki, no one denies that your crimeswere grave, not even your mother. But Thor’s actions were his own, regardlessof how they came about. And the lie of omission you were told all your life,your parents admit their fault in that. Sif and the Warriors Three and Heimdallhave all been chastised for their mistaken treachery—”
“A mistake, yes, that’s all it was…”
Sigyn scowled and dealt the prince a smarting box on theear. “You have proved your worth to Odin, as you intended,” she continued,while he clutched his head, “and slain the Frost Giant king when he would havemurdered Odin in his sleep.”
“I slew my father,” he muttered, “and was only able tobecause I let him into Asgard expressly to murder Odin.”
“You killed a man with no honor,” Sigyn retorted, stoppingherself at the last from calling the Jotun king a ‘creature’. Loki would agreewith the word all too readily, which was not good. They both had much prejudiceto unlearn. “A true and noble king would have turned down your offer in thefirst place.”
“Desperate men are rarely noble, my lady. As I myself haveproven. If I had only stopped, if I had thought—”
“You would not be Loki. And if you had not been Loki… oh,damn!” She dropped to her knees and took his face in her hands. “Open youreyes, Loki,” Sigyn insisted, “and see truth of what you’re saving… and whatyou’re throwing away.”
And then she kissed him, as she had longed to do since theywere fifteen years old.
When she released him, Loki blinked at her in dumbfoundedshock. “I – you – I didn’t… I had no idea you harboured any feelings towardme at all.”
“Has it ever occurred to you,” said Sigyn fondly, “that youare very stupid when it comes to women?”
