literature

LokixReader - All for an Ounce of Love - Part 1

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ATTENTION: This story is best viewed in a word processing document with the following items replaced with the corresponding words.
After copying and pasting the document into an editable file, use the find and replace tool in these ways:

r/n - Reader's name. Use a nickname or what you would like to be called throughout the story.
f/n - Full name. It can be as full as you want it to be. Since I can't predict what you're going to place here, I would stray from attempting sarcasm :P

Or if you really want to have fun with it, go ahead and treat it like madlibs, using the find tool and manually replacing them.

Enjoy ;3

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I've always felt that I was different. But I don't think I could have really fathomed what it was like to know just how different I really am. It just so happens to be the case that I'm such a freak that I have to step through this swirling, oozing portal and jump into another world...a world where I can be what I'm supposed to be. A mutant. Apparently there are a good number of people who are in the same metaphorical boat as me, who will stand right where I stand now as I hesitate in this stark, government room in this stark, government building. I'm not sure what the authorities are getting out of this, but it must be good. Trading people across universes...It all just seems dangerous and quite frankly like a huge waste of money.

Or maybe that's just it. Maybe the trade is money. Oh good, my life-long dream of becoming a slave has been actualized. My body for government cash. Lovely.

Although, I suppose that's really also something along the lines of bounty hunting, too, but that's badass and these guys are far from badass.

"Please step through. It won't hurt you...just as we've been reassuring you of for the past five minutes. There are five more people scheduled to be transported today, and if you would like to be held responsible for our being under quota, I'll make sure to pass that message on in a tidy little note in your pocket for the Professor, explaining why he has five less students than he has made arrangements for. Not to mention, you'll have to explain to your replacements why they had to wait another day to be transported over here."

"First of all, you talk a lot. Second, if the Professor is the same as he was in that shitty teevee series, I'm more than certain he wouldn't blame me for not wanting to step into a giant lump of gunk. He's a nice guy. Understanding and such."

"Just go through," the man whines at me, sifting his hands over his bald head and shutting his tiny blue eyes in a way that's got me thinking that he gets this all the time and he stupidly expected me of all people to be any different. Letting out the pent up breath that I had unknowingly built up in my lungs, I take the few steps to the gooey-looking thing as it swirls just a little bit more darkly...just that little bit more menacingly.

Here goes nothing, I suppose.

I slip my foot in, fully experiencing the opposite of what I had anticipated as I am instantaneously sucked into the cold, dry vortex. It's bright and thin, but it spits me out without hesitation or difficulty, making sure I end up in a pained little lump on the other side of the portal...on...this carpet...? It's kind of...hard though. I mean, I guess I should expect that from office-grade flooring, but I would think they would at least try to make the receiving end of this deal a bit more welcoming.

"Oh dear, are you alright? Did they not go over proper transportation procedure with you?" The voice is soft and motherly, clearly female and clearly from a woman that's a little bit overweight. I lift my head and give the usual inspection, not trusting anything that I can't see, and I find out just how right that assumption was. She's probably no taller than I am with short brown hair and a nose that bends a little bit to the left.

"Ah, no, they did, I was just expecting a little more time to adjust myself." Although...I probably should have said that he didn't give me any warning. That guy was less than kind about this whole process and if he were to perhaps be fired for being so...incompetent in his duties...well, I certainly wouldn't cry over it.

"Not a worry, dear, just stand right up--there you go. Well," she starts as she brushes off some non-existent sediment from my jacketed shoulder, "I'll be your registrant for this process. My name is Shirleigh Hendricks." Her large, meaty palm extends toward mine in a very outgoing and professional manner. Unfortunately, I can already feel that off-putting roll in my neck that tends to culminate whenever an unfamiliar face is overly friendly. This is not the best way to make first impressions.

"r/n," I say through a practiced smile. It's generally a good rule of thumb to bite my tongue in situations like this. People don't tend to like to be called 'too friendly' or 'weirdly happy' (which she certainly is), and I don't intend to make a fool of myself so early on in this whole mess.

Focus on good thoughts. Focus on having a good day, and everything will fall into place.

"Ah yes, the special case! Oh, I'm excited that I got you!"

"Um...special case?"

"Oh--" She tips a few fingers to her plump lips and stares at me for a moment, silently letting them fall toward the ground before determinedly grasping onto my arm and dragging me out of the reception area. So...basically she just let me know that I'm the heroine of this story? Some incredible power, some tragic past. I mean there were sad parts to my life, but I'm not sure I'd consider any of it particularly heartbreaking.

Before I can adjust to the empty room any more, we wind our way down two perpendicular halls and straight to her office. The place is full of books, statues of giraffes and portable, plug-in waterfalls. I'm glad that I peed before I came over here.

"So...you're f/n, correct? Good, good, I just want to make sure that I wasn't jumping to conclusions. I'm not sure how it's even possible, to be honest, but I suppose she wasn't the only one that came over here before the ah...right. Okay, so I just need to know if your marital status has somehow changed in the past four months." She eyes the file that she's taken out of its proper filing cabinet, biting at her bottom lip like she's concentrating with all of her might.

"No, I'm still single."

"Good, good, and your medical records are all clean. We just need to give you a few shots, a few pills and you will be all set in that regard. I'm afraid we don't have your measurements: the government doesn't usually have use for that sort of information, but Professor Xavier has requested it. Do you know them, by chance? Just...off the top of your head?" Her cheeks puff up as she smiles at me innocently. But honestly, why would I know that? I don't buy tailored clothes, nor do I regularly obsess about what line on the tape measure I've got on any particular day.

"No, I'm afraid I don't." But she knew the answer before she asked it. She smiles and reaches into her desk, fervently responding like she finds the prospect of discovering something more about me absolutely thrilling.

"Ah, that's alright, get undressed."

"I...I'm sorry?"

"Well, if we did this with your clothes on, you would get the wrong readings. Off with them." She unties the plastic thing and gets to work as I undress myself, finishing the process without any undue embarrassment or hardship.

"Good, good." She scribbles down the last bit of bodily info before turning to my skull, my fingers and my ears, checking to see if they're pierced, I suppose. Very peculiar things to need...but I suppose they could be useful for standard issue hats and jewelry? Xavier really wastes money on that...? Then again, I suppose he's wasting money on me and all of these people from my universe, so I shouldn't be that surprised.

"So. Off to the infirmary and then we'll be on our way to the Institute." Another reassuring smile of her slightly yellowed teeth, quite like she drinks too much coffee, and she's opened the door for me, waiting on my exit.

--

Shots to the ass are not fun. Especially when they're done in an unnecessary hurry, and especially when I have to ride to my next destination on leather seats. I mean, it's a nice limousine--definitely not fitting for what I'm wearing...and if I must be honest, not fitting for my registrant, either--but it's killer on the wounds.

Through the dimmed windows, I can see the shining institute now. It's large...and apparently being renovated. With about one hundred more people having to come and live here, I can understand the need to expand the place, but it's still more than likely going to put a damper on my sleeping schedule. Unless I'm going to be gifted with sound-proof walls. That would probably be one of the best things ever.

"Well, here we are, little love." The reverberations in the last phrase etches into my brain, piercing a part of me that's unnervingly making me feel like she's somehow grown attached to me in the short time that we've spent together. I hope it wasn't because she got to help the nurse shoot me full of anti-virals. That would be beyond creepy. "Here's your communications package." Shirleigh pulls out a large, plastic accordion-envelope from her oversized shoulder bag and hands it to me, letting me feel the weight of it. And crapola is it heavier than it looks. "There's a phone in there with my number in it if you need to get in touch with me for any reason at all. If you're having troubles fitting in or if you have any questions that you would like answered that you feel you can't trust the people inside to answer."

I nod, trying to maintain a straight face over the knot that's building in my stomach. Or...perhaps knot is the wrong word. It's like someone has stabbed me with a turkey baster and is implanting five-hundred-proof alcohol into my abdomen.

"Are you alright?" She bends over and places one of her thick hands on my knee, looking at me with concern that nearly makes me want to cry.

"Of course." Another fake smile graces my face, pulling unsurely at the edges of my mouth as I try like mad to think happy thoughts just to make the act that much more believable. Apparently it's working, thank the gods. The registrant smiles widely in a way that she hasn't smiled before, though it fits her level of charisma, and makes her way out of the vehicle with myself in tow.

"Now, as Xavier is--" looking at her watch, the woman pauses appropriately and grunts triumphantly at her superior sense of time, "currently teaching a class, I will show you to your proper room. We'll have to get the information from the lobby computer. Oh, your course catalogue and living guide are also in that packet, along with a few city guides and the steps you need to take to set yourself up for getting a job. When you get to your room, you'll need to unpack your computer and set yourself up to take an exam," we step onto the first marble stair of the manor, another wave of stabbing knots threatening to completely ruin the current state of our conversation...it must be the gravity of this situation settling in, "and your results will place you in a particular tier of education, certain classes will be open to you and the like. The catalogue is there just to look up the particulars of the class and the professors. There aren't that many so I wouldn't try to pick and choose, but just read them over so that you know what to expect--"
"How do you know so much about this place? I thought the registrants weren't mutants...?"

"Oh, we aren't dear, but I've had to memorize all of this and honestly I'm not letting that time spent go to waste." As we make our way a bit further into the building, the air conditioning is a little more evident--we must be right under a vent now--and the lobby computer is now in our sights. Just under the leftmost curving staircase. Got it. This place does seem a bit bland though, despite how expensive it must have been to build. Over the echoing clicks of the woman's fingers against the keyboard, I take a silent look around the entrance hall. It's neat, orderly, cream and warm with light spilling in from a myriad of crystal clean windows. Actually, it reminds me of the entrance hall to some five star hotel...but without the weird mood lighting.

I wonder if this place has a maintenance staff or if we have to take turns cleaning things. Probably the latter. Builds character and similar nonsense, I'm sure.

The marble from the front steps does actually continue on into the institute, uninterrupted by any length of floor rug. I suppose that would be rather troublesome for a wheelchair, though, so I can't say I blame him for that stylistic choice.

"And there we go, A-24. You're one of the earlier ones, clearly, so you get to stay in the main house. I've heard the other buildings are supposed to be exquisite, but this way you get to be closer to the dining halls and swimming pool. If you're into that sort of thing." Something of a giggle makes its way to my ears but I can't really hear it all that well; I'm far more distracted by the way that the wood banisters feel...the way that the solidity of the marble staircases is affecting my feet. Hopefully Shirleigh goes away soon so that I can just adjust to this place, sneak around and find all the cool places to hang out. I appreciate what she's doing and that this is what she's been hired to do, but it's...I need some time alone.

"Mm..."

"Oh, don't worry, I'll be gone soon--"
"Oh, no, I wasn't thinking that--"
"Don't worry dear, I can tell the quiet ones. And I know that you adjust better on your own." Assuming she's using the collective 'you' in this instance.

"I'm...sorry..."

"There is absolutely no reason to be sorry for how you are, dear. Anyway, I suggest you find yourself something physical to do to keep yourself in shape. Not that you aren't, my dear, and I have no room to talk," she lets out another giggle, "but the professor is likely to make you part of the X-men, or at least ask you. And you have to be in rather great physical condition for that. So just be prepared, that's all. There is a very large facility for physical training here, so you shouldn't have trouble." We make our way down the hall as she continues to blabber on. Hooking to the right, Ms. Hendricks leads me to the last door on the end of the hall and stops in front of it like an unpracticed butler. "Here. A-24. You just need to place your finger here--that's it, and look into this little green square. Now, don't blink--There. Your room is now encrypted to your body. Hopefully, you don't lose an eye...or a hand." She  slaps me on the back as the door clicks, unlocking and opening of its own accord like the welcoming arms of sanctity from the woman that I'm becoming ever more estranged by.

"Is it that dangerous or are you just being cute?"

"Ah, well, it can be. Just be careful." Whatever tone she might have said that with is lost on me as I look into my undecorated, rather standard, white and pine bedroom. At least it's huge; there are three layers that I can see right off the bat: one being the hardwood flooring that connects the door to the windows across the length and width of the room. "Since you're on the corner, you get two windows. Isn't that lovely." An extra way of sneaking out at night has never been a bad thing. Although, I suppose that also means that there's an extra way that someone could sneak in, as well...

Thank you, paranoia.

I take a step in, noticing the rise of the flooring beneath my bed and the embellished divot in front of what looks like either the door to the bathroom or the closet. Why so fancy...? I suppose if he has his students doing the building, there's nothing he can't just make a reality, so why not? How tricky of him...if I'm right, I think I hold just that much more respect for the guy.

"Do you like it...?" Startled that she's even still here, I flip around and take a gander at the rather humble smile she's giving me, almost like she's somehow responsible for this.

"It's....amazing, honestly." My eyes trace around the room again, imagination running wild with ways that I could be sprucing up the place, things I could be taking out of my boxed up possessions to liven up the deadly silence and peace of the room.

"Good, good, I'm glad you feel that way, dear." That sincere grin is back, eating up the larger portion of her face. "I'll get out of your hair now. Remember to call me if you need anything at all! Or text. Texting is fine, too. Oh, and once all of the other new students that were supposed to arrive today have come to the mansion, the six of you are going to be oriented by the man himself. Have fun, dear." Reaching in to pull at the door handle, Shirleigh slowly shades her figure from my view for the first time since I met her, and I can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of relief at her departure.

Finally. Although, I'm not sure whether I should work on painting this drab place up a bit first or whether I should just move right in...? Then again, I have no idea if I'll even be allowed to fix it up. Xavier's already doing so much just by letting me stay here to become acquainted with my powers--whatever they may be--that I really can't expect that sort of freedom.

--
Part 2 - ladylaumes.deviantart.com/art/...

Loki's POV, Part 1 - ladylaumes.deviantart.com/art/...


It's here. I only have four weeks of back up posts, but I can't wait any longer. I've just been letting his boil over in the deepest recesses of my mind while I waited for some amazing stroke of genius to come bop me on the head. It isn't happening. I mean. The plot will be good. It's just that getting there is going to be a bitch and a half. I have to develop characters correctly, introduce key situations that will contain foreshadowing, etc. It's a pain to write something that actually has a direction. This is not my usual thing, so bear with me.

I've decided to post Loki's point of view alongside this since it's requisite in most parts to drive the story, as well as the fact that the majority of you said you would prefer it. HOWEVER. For those of you who don't want it, I'll be making them completely separate entities and will label them explicitly as Loki's point of view. Think of it as reading two books at the same time to get the whole story. Although Loki's POV will be much more sporadic and included only when I deem it necessary.

Anyway, this is written as a follow up to these explicit texts from way back when:
ladylaumes.deviantart.com/art/...
ladylaumes.deviantart.com/art/...

If you're interested in some Loki on Loki action, do go read them. They aren't the best erotic literature, but I like the story ;_; Feels.

And the story is what inspired this. So in order to understand the first part of Loki's POV you'll have to go read them. If you can't because you aren't old enough, note me and I'll break it down for you.

By the way, that actually brings up a point that I want to make. I understand that the majority of people who like Loki are like 12 years old. That's cool and everything, let your hormones run wild; however, I must ask that you pretend that you're at least 18 for this. There are going to be parts to this that will not make sense if you're going for the whole pedophilic side that people tend to gravitate toward simply because they're so young.

Anyway, about Loki in this story:
He is a mixture of all kinds of different things. I want to make this explicit so people aren't like...retarded about it when he makes his big debut.

:bulletblack: He is a fire jotuun born of Laufey (his #$@%^#$^% mother) and Farbauti (his father). (EDIT: Making him half ice...which parent is fire and which is ice will be determined as we get to that point.)

:bulletblack: There will be no retarded mention of his body temperature being cold, since he is not a creature of ice in this version of the Marvel Universe (the one that I've totally just made up). I'm not even going to validate that ridiculous misinterpretation with some...I don't even know. It's cute and romantic and whatever. Kinky if you like that ice stuff. I'm not going for cute. This is Loki we're talking about here, not bunnies.

:bulletblack: He is a slut and will be written as such. Clearly I put a lot of emphasis on monogamous love, since that's what I prefer, so you can expect it to go in that direction, but he is not going to stab out his wandering eyes for you. It's who he is.

:bulletblack: All of his children (barring those birthed from the loins of Sigyn) exist in this universe. I'll try my best to make the reader care about that, since I don't, personally.

:bulletblack: He is a shapeshifter. He is gifted in magic. He is a liar and a trickster. He might prefer women over men, but I haven't quite figured that one out yet. We'll find out down the road, I guess.

Hopefully that's it. Now to end the author's comments so that they aren't as long as the piece itself.

~~

Please comment! I appreciate all comments, whether they're constructive criticism or just appreciation. I'm writing these because I wish to get better at literacy, eloquence and grammatical understanding. Help me out? :heart:

All Marvel characters belong to the Marvel people D:
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FIREELFMAIDEN's avatar
interesting way to start this FanFic I loveLove  it.