Loki Imagines

Two Liars

The scene before you is perfect, for once. Everyone is in their places, and although the actors all manage raw emotion when needed, you know the script; you know exactly how the moment is supposed to unfurl before you. Rarely do you ever get to coast through life without guesswork, but here, you know exactly what's going on.

That's the beauty of the movies, you suppose, it's safe. Even in the most terrifying horror or suspenseful mystery, you know that it's going to be alright. The movie itself will be wonderfully shot, and you'll be able to carve out another story in your long and twisted history.

You've been acting for a long time now, but you can't deny that this particular project is your favorite. There are few movies that feel right, that you don't walk away from the final day of shooting without thinking of at least one thing that you wish could have gone differently, but this is the exception. Heartache exists in this film, of course, as does grief and loss, but it's still good. This one, for once, might almost be perfect.

You're taking part in the red carpet premiere of the film now, sitting in a theater with your co-stars, at last able to view the culmination of all your hard work. It's a romance between you and what the Internet is now calling the world's luckiest man, and you think it's fantastic. You're not here alone, either, although the rumors that you're dating your on-screen partner are utterly false.

You look over at him now, your date. The lights of the movie shift and change as they play on his face, highlighting angles and planes utterly unfamiliar to you. Loki Odinson is a hard god to pin down, and he certainly doesn't like this sort of fame. He's donned another disguise today, dressing up as a rather plain looking man that will disappear from everyone's mind the second they click away from his picture.

It's the perfect mask, you can admire that as a wearer of many. Today, his hair is deepest red, fading like blood into the shadows of this darkened room. Despite the fact that there is only a stranger's body next to you, you can still see Loki in him. No matter what face he wears, you always know him, even in a world of millions. Your eyes could be shut tight, your hands cut off at the wrists, and you would still run to him unconditionally and be right every time.

You know him well, your lover, and so you know when you look at him that he isn't pleased. Your proud smile drops in about half a second as you scan him for some sign of why he's so troubled, yet come up drawing blanks every time. It's not that the room is too hot or too cold, nor that too many mortals are pressing in at his sleeves, making him feel his immortality with every unnecessary breath he draws.

The problem, then, must be the film, this project you've adored. The realization hurts like a rusted blade sunk into your chest. You've been waiting to show Loki the finished movie for what feels like forever, and you were certain that he was going to like it. Loki always claims that mortal entertainment isn't quite for him, but you've known him to lie before.

This, however, is proof of it. He watches the scenes with barely concealed distaste, as if every word exchanged between you and your co-stars leaves a bad stain upon him. He realizes you're looking at him a couple of minutes later and quickly schools his expression into something suitable, but the damage is already done. You turn back to the movie, but suddenly it isn't half as wonderful as it seemed before you knew Loki's true feelings.

The drive back to your home is quiet, scarcely a word uttered between the two of you. Whatever golden spell was cast about you by seeing the beginning of the film has utterly fragmented, and you feel like a junior performer again, shut out of yet another audition.

Once the door to your home closes behind you, Loki dares speak at last. He voices his concerns only after all eyes are off of you, once he's shed his disguise like stripping shoes from his feet. This particular face may never come out again, but at least you wouldn't see it and be reminded of tonight.