[ Upon his discovery of the Time Variance Authority, Loki is introduced to a particularly intriguing man who seems to share his desire to burn the place to the ground. ]
Lᴏᴋɪ × ᴍᴀʟᴇ!ᴏᴄ
started: 25.10.2023
finished:
word count: 25,987
ᴏʀɪɢɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ɪɴ...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
comments and votes are appreciated!
[ 08. ]
The pair landed with a shared groan, rolling across the dirt, before finally coming to a stop, bodies bruising all over.
Týr pushed himself to his knees with a grunt, blinking his eyes open to realise he was now straddling Loki.
Another groan sounded as Sylvie landed a short distance away.
Týr quickly scrambled to get off of Loki, almost kneeing him in the face, as the demi-god pushed himself onto his elbows, looking up at the brunette.
The two stood up, Loki discarding his TVA jacket and walking in the direction the train had went, watching it fade from view.
"Well, that's not ideal." He noted, putting his hands on his hips.
He turned back around, only to be met with a sword pressed to his throat.
"Give me the TemPad!" Sylvie demanded
"All right, all right! All right. Okay."
Týr moved to stand next to Sylvie, suppressing a yawn.
Loki pulled out the TemPad, revealing it with his magic, just to display that it had completely smashed.
Sylvie stared at it in shock, sheathing her sword.
"Well, I did take quite the tumble." He excused, wincing at the matching glares from the shorter pair.
"Really?" Týr spat, before sighing, as he turned away with a muttered, "Bloody hell."
"You asshole. You killed us." Sylvie seethed.
"Maybe we can fix it. Okay? Um..." Loki fiddled with the shattered pieces, only managing to drop them.
"You're not a serious man."
"You're right. I'm a god."
"You're an idiot." Týr hissed, through gritted teeth, walking away from the other two.
"You're a clown. You got drunk on the train."
Týr tuned them out as he paced towards a mound of dirt.
He let the heat ball up in his fists, releasing a yell of frustration as he shot the flames into the ground, leaving two black scorch-marks.
Sitting down on the mound with a sigh, he ran his fingers through his hair.
What was he doing? He never got distracted, not like that. Sure, he was a cocky, egotistical, sarcastic airhead, but only for show. He never let himself get distracted.
Why had he let Loki distract him?
Why did Loki make him think of Freyr.
"Fuck him." He muttered under his breath, ignoring the scream from Sylvie as she walked over to take a seat beside him.