In which Loki has a screaming psychotic breakdown, Thor cries MANLY TEARS, and Tony breaks a floor.

Oh and there’s some kissing and stuff too.

[TW for suicidal ideation.]

Read on LJ

Read on AO3

the end is the beginning is the end [Post-Avengers, Loki-centric, implied Loki/Thor if you squint] →

Sooooo this is a thing that happened.

I really have no excuses.  Um.  Enjoy?

(Also, the Other is officially terrifying.  I don’t know how I did that but it scares me shitless.  Good job, self.)


It begins with an end, as most things do.

It begins with an end to a lie, illusory porcelain-pale skin melting away to refreeze into deep blue.  Scars and cold and bloodred eyes.  Stolen relic.  Monster.  Fiend.

It begins with an end to belonging.  False father, false mother, false brother.  Never meant to be here, meant to die wailing and alone on glacial ice, is this why he has never truly fit?  Very well then, they shall have what they deserve, from the monster thrust unwittingly into their midst.

It begins with an end to truth.  Wear the mask, become the mask, deceive deceive deceive.  No one must know what he thinks, no one must see the shattering behind his eyes (green eyes, not red, never red, never).  Lie, just as not-Father lied, lie for the good of this place that is not home.

It begins with an end to love.  Tear it away, burn it out, weakness, nothing more.  Grind it down to nothing, transmute it, gold to lead, so the pain in star-blue eyes will not ruin the plan.  The line is so thin, spidersilk thin, easy enough to cross, fall from the tightrope he has walked for so long.  (There are razors at the bottom on both sides, but hate is numbing.)

It begins with an end to restraint.  Kill them all.  Every last one.  Rage, destroy, unmake, is this not what you loved so much in your son, not-Father?  Your son, now weak, soft, wants to save those wretched monstrous beasts, where is Giant-Slayer now?  Hate me, smash me, fight me!

It begins with an end to hope.  No, Loki.  Let go.  Fall.

It begins with an end.

He clutches the staff, feeling its power rush up his arm, into his wasted frame, and beyond that shrieking blue light the Other (he thinks—perhaps—its ragged face is so alien) is smiling.

It begins.

[PODFIC] Deface, by drusche →

uh so I accidentally a podfic?

I think it worked out okay, this is my first time doing anything like this, so.  Fnrgh.





now go read it and leave me nice comments so I can justify beating myself senseless on my own keyboard

delirium [Loki-centric, brocest-y if you squint] →

So I decided to stick this prose post I did on my Loki RP blog over on AO3 for shits and giggles.  It stands on its own well enough, so why the hell not?

(Warning for self-destructive and self-loathing nastiness.  Loki is not a healthy person, and his subconscious bears that out likewhoa.)

Thor stares at himself in the mirror.

Despite all accusations of vanity, it is hardly something he makes a habit of.  Most mornings, he gives it the barest of glances before leaving his bedroom to do…whatever it is he has decided to do that day.  (Often he works on the Bifrost’s reconstruction.  It is his fault the thing was destroyed, after all.  And the work is mindless, distracting.  Heavy weights and pounding hammer.  He does not need to think, then.  And Heimdall—Heimdall does not force him into conversation.  Heimdall understands.)

His hair has gotten too long.  He toys with the ends absently, a strand twined between his fingers.  Near his shoulders, now, and soon past them.  He cannot remember the last time he has had it this long.

Two days ago his mother offered to cut it for him.  All he could think of was a soft, mocking laugh—do you want Sif to catch hold of it while you spar, brother? You know better—the glitter of green eyes, a smile like a knife (meant for display, then, sharp and beautiful but unbloodied, and now, now taken down off its pedestal and sullied, every time Thor has seen it since it has drunk more deeply of his wounds).

He refused her, trying to smile as he might have before.  She only nodded, because she knew, the way mothers always know.

He still can’t bring himself to cut it.  He will, eventually.  When he finds Loki, and brings him home.  And he will find Loki.  He will bring his brother home.  If only because he cannot consider any other possibility.  If he ever lets himself doubt, then he will bring all the Realms crashing down around him.

He turns from the mirror, snatching Mjolnir from his belt.


As for Loki—

Loki does not look in mirrors at all anymore.


Good Morning by ~l3onnie

That look of utter disdain on Loki’s face is fucking killing me.

(I’m also hearing this weird combination of “I’m Too Sexy” and “Sexy and I Know It” playing in my head right now)

a loki-centric thorki fanmix
by tyrotheterrible

01. Snow Patrol – “The Lightning Strike (i) - What If This Storm Ends”
02. 10 Years – “Through the Iris”
03. Paramore – “Decode”
04. Drowning Pool – “37 Stitches”
05. AFI – “The Leaving Song, Pt. 2”
06. Slipknot – “Snuff”
07. Disturbed – “Crucified”
08. Puscifer – “The Undertaker”
09. KoRn – “Ever Be”
10. Breaking Benjamin – “Lights Out”
11. Schwein – “You’re My Disease”
12. A Perfect Circle – “Thinking of You”
13. Angelspit – “Make You Sin”
14. Tool – “Stinkfist”
15. Serj Tankian – “Elect the Dead”


mostcunning --> askthemostcunning →

Go, follow, ask stupid questions and get condescending answers!

Or something.

Art will start happening eventually, I think.  For right now it’ll just be text, occasional pieces of prose, and occasional RP-type interactions.  (Especially if you happen to have a Thor for me to play with?)

Yes, good.  Ask anything!

mostcunning --> askthemostcunning →

Go, follow, ask stupid questions and get condescending answers!

Or something.

Art will start happening eventually, I think.  For right now it’ll just be text, occasional pieces of prose, and occasional RP-type interactions.  (Especially if you happen to have a Thor for me to play with?)

Yes, good.  Ask anything!

All the prompt fics I've written, all in one place [Loki/Thor, T to NC-17] →

I’ve still got one more sitting in the wings that I haven’t done yet (and two other prompts that I’ll do later), but here’s the link regardless.  Have fun, kiddies.


If anyone’s interested, I have an independent psycho!Loki RP blog. 8D

Go follow it!


“So demanding, brother,” Loki purrs into Thor’s ear, lips brushing the shell, and the sibilants make the proud warrior beneath him jerk and arch. “Always so certain that you will have what you want.”

Thor’s arms strain against the whisper-thin spellstrands that bind them, stretch them up and over his head and pin them together near the headboard—all his might, all his strength, constrained by a few strings of green light wrapped around his wrists and ankles and a sigil traced in the air with a fingertip. It leaves the core of him open—exposed—vulnerable—just as Loki wishes it. No matter how his muscles tense, pull, shudder, he cannot break those slender green streaks, nor lift the anchor that holds them down.

“Such a greedy little thing you are. Selfish. Caring only for your own desires.”


Go read it on LJ or AO3.  DO IT.


Go read it at LJ or AO3.