All With One Glance (LokiXReader pt. 1)

key:
(y/n)-your name
(h/c)-hair color
(h/l)-hair length


You walk nervously down the ruined New York streets, not entirely sure what to do now. Your phone has been blowing up for the past two hours; all your friends are fine. They want to get together soon. Of course. They need to have each other close, so they can have someone to cling to, witness their tears, exchange horrible stories about how they almost died. But you sort of want to be alone. It wasn't the trauma of a near-death experience, thought that was part of it (one of the giant things that swam through the air as though it were water had crashed right through your studio apartment), but more what happened after that. You had run to the shattered wall and looked out to see one of the strange air jet-skis ridden not by an alien, but a…you hesitated to call him a man. There was no way he was. A man could never look that beautiful and ugly at the same time. He had been moving extremely fast, but your eyes had met for a split second. And from that moment you were entranced.

You're reverie is suddenly interrupted by the sound of a fair voice singing. You stop, listening.

"Flies from the South the famished raven,
flieth with him the fallow eagle;
on the flesh of the fallen I shall feed them no more:
on my body both will batten now."

The sound is very close by, but the street ahead is obscured by several wrecked vehicles. You creep closer, ducking under a bent lamppost, and then you see him; that same one who flew by your window. He is sitting on the sidewalk, chained to a large hammer. His song finished, he leans his head back, closing his eyes. You notice his face is covered in cuts, his once pristine green and gold regalia torn up and stained. The sight brings tears to your eyes. He looks so thoroughly beaten, in every sense of the word.

"You!" the word escapes your lips before you can stop it.

He jerks his head around to stare at you with intense eyes. "Yes, me." He says. "I'm the one who brought this destruction down upon your precious human city, scaring you and breaking your pretty little hearts! You can kick me if you like, or spit on me! Go on, I'll be powerless to stop you!"

His voice drips with sarcasm, but you can see through to the pain beneath. Your heart swells it a way it never had for another human being.

"No," you say. "You're the one who flew past my window. You…you looked me in the eyes. Do you remember?"

He looks beyond confused. "You…you were the mortal covered in paint…" he says slowly.

You nod, smiling. "I'm an artist."

"Hmm," he says. "Perhaps that would explain your dress."

You blush a bit. You were painting when the invasion started, so you are wearing your work clothes; ripped and stained jeans, over-large thrift store t-shirt, hair messily pulled away from your face.

"So, you tried to invade Earth," you say. "Do you fancy yourself a god?"

"Ehehehehehe!" he laughs. "I AM a god, mortal girl! I am Loki of Asgard."

You gasp. "You mean, from the Norse mythology? It's all true?"

"Perhaps, I've never read mortal mythos," he says with a shrug, looking away.

You step closer, irresistibly drawn to him, but you don't know why. And why is he chained to a hammer in the middle of a street? You look behind him to see the dirty windows of a Shawarma place. You crane your neck towards it trying to see inside. There, seated around a large table in the middle, is the group of rogue super heroes that had fought off the invasion. So they had destroyed the aliens, closed that giant portal, captured Loki…and then went for lunch?

"Are…are they in there having lunch?" You say in disbelief.

Loki shrugs again.

"And they left you out here chained to a hammer?"

"My brother never paid me much courtesy."

Your heart filled with sympathy at these words. You just didn't understand it; here was Loki, the god of mischief, who had just tried to enslave humanity. You should be afraid, you should hate him. You should have cursed his name and run away the moment you saw him. But here you were, talking casually. And there was another question; why was he talking to you in turn?

"Why are you telling me this? And don't say it's because I asked, you could have easily ignored me, or frightened me off, or killed me."

He looks at you, a small smile curling his lips. "You're clever, mortal girl. Except I couldn't have killed you, my magic has been neutralized. But still, you're right."

Silence follows. Your unanswered question hung in the air like that one fly-away hair in front of your eyes, that begs to be swept aside. And you can't tell if he's skirting your question or considering it.

"So…why are you talking to me?" you ask again in a small voice.

He stares at you, his eyes holding yours in a hypnotic stare. "Because you aren't afraid of me." He says.

Your heart melts, and you stumble forward and kneel down beside him. He flinches back like he's afraid you might attack him like a feral cat, but then relaxes and stares into your eyes again.

"What's your name, mortal?" he asks.

"(y/n)," you say.

"(y/n)," he repeats. "Pretty."

You feel a faint blush creep into your cheeks.

"Uh…the only thing keeping you here is a chain attached to a hammer. Why don't you just leave?"

Loki laughs without humor. "This is Mjolnir, my brother's hammer. No force in the universe can shift it, save him and my father," Bitterness taints his voice.

"I'm sorry," you say.

He studies you, brow furrowed. "You really are, aren't you?" he says.

You nod, then smile mischievously. You reach up and pluck a bobby pin from your (h/l) (h/c) hair and pull his chained wrists towards you.

"What are you doing?" He asks, sounding taken aback.

"Freeing you," you say, sticking the pin into the lock and carefully moving it in the precise motions one of your friends taught you. After a few minutes, the lock clicks, and the chains fall away.

Loki twists his now free hands in front of his face, staring in utter disbelief.

"How did you do that?" he whispers.

"Surely a trickster god knows about lock picking," you say.

"But no mortal should have been able to break these chains!"

"Are you complaining?" you say, amused by his bewilderment.

"No! I was…it's just…"

"Come on," you say, grabbing his hand in both of yours. "Come with me."

"They'll find me," he says warningly.

You shrug. "Come anyway."

After a moment, Loki smiles a genuine smile, one you can't help but mirror. Then he stands, pulling you up with him.

"Lead on, (y/n)," he says.