Loki x Reader

Chapter One

I am Death. Truthfully, I am not the only Death, Death is a guild, but I am one of them. Death has been around since Creation, since the Gods, since Life Itself. But few know until they have taken their final breath that Death is a guild of God-Like immortals with powers beyond the imaginable. The responsibility of being Death is something I've been trained for since my birth. My mother and father were also Death, as were their mothers and fathers before them, and theirs before them. But when tasked with reaping my first soul, with escorting my first new soul to the Hells...I couldn't do it. 

I failed.

I was banished, stripped of my title of Death, my powers, my name. I made a small, easy life for myself, moving from place to place to avoid dangers involved with being immortal. 500 years passed and I finally found a place where I could be invisible. I got a desk job in New York, blending seamlessly into the hustle and bustle of the big city, especially just after the Battle of New York. It's easy to hide here. No one wants to reach out to me, and even then, I can just brush them off and they'll never speak to me again. It's been a year since the battle of New York and I've been living a life of near-solitude, other than going to work or running errands.

On this particular work day, around 11 am, I begin to hear explosions outside my building. Everyone begins to rush to the windows to see what's going on. I try to jump to see past the crowd forming against the window but can't get even a glimpse outside. I get up on a desk and stand, looking over heads to see what's going on outside. I hear a few protests, but pay them no mind when I see the scene going down outside. The Avengers are fighting a pack consisting of four creatures I haven't seen in 500 years.

Hell Hounds.

I go into mental overdrive, habits from before I was banished from my realm kicking in. I know how to fight a Hell Hound, and I know how to win. But I also know that panicking civilians are one of the worst things for a Hell Hound to be around. They're like massive, homicidal golden retrievers that look more like garbage truck sized hyenas mixed with bloodhounds. Hell Hounds get very excited around humans, so they often also get quite aggressive. So a mass of people trying to get away from four of them will only make them more aggressive.

I run to the bottom floor of my office building, opening the doors and calling for people to come into the building for safety. Some of the others on the bottom floor come to my aid, opening more doors and shepherding more people into the lobby of the office building I work in. I stand in the doorway, holding the door open as I guide people in, I watch the Avengers fight the Hell Hounds.

There are four Hell Hounds, and six Avengers. Black Widow and Captain America are fighting one Hell Hound, Iron Man is fighting another with support from Hawkeye, the Hulk is fighting a third farthest from me, and Thor is fighting the fourth quite close to my building. Fear begins to take  over me as it sets in just how close the Hell Hounds are and just how powerless I am, how powerless I've been for the last five hundred and eight years. I blink and time seems to slow.

There's a slam and when I reopen my eyes, there's a Thor-shaped crater in the street, and in it lies Thor. I see the Hell Hound he had been fighting lunge for Thor in his crater and panic. My instincts take over and I throw my hand out. A blast of shadowy black vapors flies at the Hell Hound's head, blasting it away from Thor and onto it's side. I freeze and everything goes quiet, save the sound of my own breathing.

How did I do that? My powers were taken when I was banished, I can't wield shadows anymore. I've tried over the last 500 years, I can't use my powers anymore. How did I do that? And why now?  Millions of questions race through my mind and the sounds of the world around me slowly come back into focus. Snap out of it!  I think, refocusing on the world around me. Thor is still in the street, though he's trying to get back up as the Hell Hound I had blasted also gets back up, and begins to approach him to attack again. Thor does not look like he's in fighting shape, and I know I need to intervene. I put up half of my short, curly blonde hair in a ponytail and take off my jacket, leaving me in a black t-shirt and black jeans. Not the best clothes to fight in, but I've fought in worse.