Of Gods and Memories (LokixFemaleReader) [COMPLETED]

28

Found this beautiful piece of fanart, and I wanted to share it with you xo

It's warm. I open my eyes, closing them again almost instantly as the bright light sends a spear of pain through my head. I allow myself a few moments to get my bearings, deciding that I'm lying on a mattress of some kind with a soft blanket draped over me, and I have barely any clothes on. Great.

I open my eyes again, slowly this time, and look around. The room I'm in is very white, but the blanket draped over me is an obnoxiously bright orange. I turn my head the other way, and notice that all the light is coming from a large window which looks out over...

I do a double take. The city is huge and glittery and looks to made almost entirely out of scraps. I can see parts of shipping containers, wood, metal, concrete and other random materials all thrown together haphazardly into vague imitations of skyscrapers, apartment blocks, what looks like a football stadium, and mostly everything one would expect to see in a city.

I sit up, gasping when pain lances through my side. I look down to see that I've been relieved of my shirt and jumper and there's a large bandage wrapped around my middle. I gingerly put a hand on it, drawing back pretty fast. Suddenly I remember exactly why it's sore, and why I'm in an unfamiliar city.

I get up, wincing at the pain in my legs as I put weight on them. I guess I fell pretty hard onto this weird trash-planet. I look around for anything to cover up with, spotting a piece of orange material throne over a chair. I go over to it, but sigh when I realise it's a dress. I don't have a problem with dresses, but this one is very long and has a very low-cut neckline which is impractical at the best of times, but right now when I'm in a foreign city on a foreign planet, I'm after something that I can run in. There are shoes too, which I'm grateful for, but they're also ridiculously impractical. As in, six inch heels impractical.

I bite my lip, there aren't really many other options unless I want to walk around in basically shredded and decidedly filthy jeans and my bra all day, which I don't. I shrug, then strip off my pants and take a second to admire the huge blue and purple bruises all over me, before slipping on the dress and tugging it around a bit until I'm satisfied it sits ok. It's in my size, which I don't think too much about as I slide my feet into the heels, which are as uncomfortable as they look.

I go into the small en-suite I can see through a door, getting another surprise when I see that there's a full bag of makeup on the sink. On closer inspection, I discover that it contains primer, concealer, contour, blush, highlighter, foundation in my skin tone, a bright lipstick that matches the dress well, mascara, eyeliner, a brow pencil and a small palette of eyeshadow.

"To hell with it," I mutter, squirting some primer onto my fingers and attacking my face.

Twenty minutes later, I almost don't even look like me. I barely ever wear makeup as there's no need to in Asgard, and even when I was on Midgard I only used the stuff on rare occasions and for disguises. I study my face in the mirror, pleased with the job I've done. I look like I'm about to go to some kind of fashion show, apart from my hair. I don't do much to it apart from a quick sweep with a comb, but that's all it takes to look presentable and I'm confident I look ok.

I don't know where I'm going as I wander through the twisting corridors of the building, I just go with wherever my gut tells me too until I hear talking and laughter up ahead. I follow the sound, coming up to a pair of creatures who seem to be bouncers of some sort.

"Excuse me," I say politely, smiling at them as I step forwards.

"Where's your invite?" one asks, stepping to block my path.