[ He couldn't turn around. She was there, standing silently at his back. His shoulders are hunched and if you look closer, they might be shaking. She would be beautiful. Her robes would be embroidered with sword lilies. Her armor would be an immutable part of her, the shine of it unmistakable. She would have barrettes in her hair. Loki had stolen one when he was younger, tucked it into his pocket like a good luck charm. Her earrings would stir in the breeze.
She was standing there and Loki couldn't move. His arms ached from the effort to reach out, to touch her. He heard her quiet sigh, without words, am I not your mother?
Loki knows she is crying. There would be tears valiantly held back, the wet sheen clear for everyone to see. Everyone would know — would see that Loki is once again, making her cry, is breaking her heart, why can't he turn around? Isn't this what he wanted? Loki had wanted to say goodbye, wanted to see her leave. Wanted to see the last expression on her face. Desperately needed to know that his words, he didn't mean them, he didn't mean to, this he can confess, he can drag himself into the mud for —
His fists clench. Damn her. Damn them all. ]
Just go. Go. You are a specter. And I am not your son.
[ ii. "It's just another night at the Vampire Club." ]
[ Loki still isn't a fan of parties, despite hosting one many months ago. And he's never been a fan of mingling, getting to know people . . . It was an act. It's an act he has mastered, could play beyond compare. Though Loki does appreciate the morbid tone it sets. He dons an outfit similar to his armor, but more soft fabric than sharp, tight leather. And then he does what Loki does best.
Add a little mischief. The punch is slightly more alcoholic than before, a few costumes seem to be the wrong colour. And Loki finds himself a seat so he can watch as chaos unfolds. ]
[ iii. you kept me hanging on a string. ]
[ Okay, maybe Loki has missed the point of this escape room business. It is clearly some form of bonding exercise. He assumes. He stifles a yawn as he flicks his fingers, hiding another clue. Maybe someone will lose their patience and eventually strangle him.
One can hope. ]
Hell truly is other people.
[ v. wildcard! pm me or hit me up on captainkink for a prompt. ]
Loki (MCU) | OTA
[ He couldn't turn around. She was there, standing silently at his back. His shoulders are hunched and if you look closer, they might be shaking. She would be beautiful. Her robes would be embroidered with sword lilies. Her armor would be an immutable part of her, the shine of it unmistakable. She would have barrettes in her hair. Loki had stolen one when he was younger, tucked it into his pocket like a good luck charm. Her earrings would stir in the breeze.
She was standing there and Loki couldn't move. His arms ached from the effort to reach out, to touch her. He heard her quiet sigh, without words, am I not your mother?
Loki knows she is crying. There would be tears valiantly held back, the wet sheen clear for everyone to see. Everyone would know — would see that Loki is once again, making her cry, is breaking her heart, why can't he turn around? Isn't this what he wanted? Loki had wanted to say goodbye, wanted to see her leave. Wanted to see the last expression on her face. Desperately needed to know that his words, he didn't mean them, he didn't mean to, this he can confess, he can drag himself into the mud for —
His fists clench. Damn her. Damn them all. ]
Just go. Go. You are a specter. And I am not your son.
[ ii. "It's just another night at the Vampire Club." ]
[ Loki still isn't a fan of parties, despite hosting one many months ago. And he's never been a fan of mingling, getting to know people . . . It was an act. It's an act he has mastered, could play beyond compare. Though Loki does appreciate the morbid tone it sets. He dons an outfit similar to his armor, but more soft fabric than sharp, tight leather. And then he does what Loki does best.
Add a little mischief. The punch is slightly more alcoholic than before, a few costumes seem to be the wrong colour. And Loki finds himself a seat so he can watch as chaos unfolds. ]
[ iii. you kept me hanging on a string. ]
[ Okay, maybe Loki has missed the point of this escape room business. It is clearly some form of bonding exercise. He assumes. He stifles a yawn as he flicks his fingers, hiding another clue. Maybe someone will lose their patience and eventually strangle him.
One can hope. ]
Hell truly is other people.
[ v. wildcard! pm me or hit me up on