Unedited. Please excuse my mistakes.

I do not own any rights to Marvel Characters.


That morning was cold and foggy, the buildings hidden away as people filed into work. Seagulls flew through the city, more interested in scraps from the hot dog stands, than the crabs from the sea. The tide was out and the air was filled with the smell of mud and stagnant water.
Loki had slowly grown to love the smells of Earth. Asgard had very natural, honest smells. Spices, leather grease, dusty books. New York was filled with perfumes, a miasma of cooking smells from every culture, car exhaust, and the smell of polluted streets.

The god found himself seated on a bench in Central Park when he saw it. Tony Stark, up usually early the past few days to go to a slew of important meetings. Except, there he was escorting a beautiful red head through the park. He was laughing. Not his publicity laugh, but his honest laugh that usually ended in a stray giggle. Tony's hand was comfortably resting on the woman's hip as they walked. He was being open and honest and that scared Loki more than anything else.
The god's internal argument was leaning towards a misinterpretation. Until Tony leaned over and kissed those red painted lips slowly and affectionately.


When they were children, Thor and Loki had gone out on a hunt. It was a secret hunt, just for brothers, so there were no guards or huntsmen with them. They traveled far into the woods, leaving the golden spires behind them. Thor insisted he hold the spear, leaving Loki with a simple hunting knife. He didn't mind, seeing as he was more adept with knives than his brother anyway.

They found no pray and soon were on their way back to the castle, both long since bored of their hunt. Only a mile away from the city limits, they stumbled into a clearing filled with large horned beasts. They froze as a few lifted their heads, still chewing, and gazed at them. Loki tried to warn his brother to back away slowly, but Thor bolted. His small red cape flying behind him, catching the creatures attention immediately. Loki was left behind to face the stampede alone. He tried to run but fell and was trampled over and over again by hooves. His arms shattered, his ribs stabbing into his lungs. The crushing pain was like no other and it was a feeling he never forgot.
A feeling he felt once more as he watched his lover kiss a beautiful red head in the park.


"Hey Rudolf, where you going?"

Loki tensed, feeling strangely fearful for a moment. He was in the middle of packing his things into a small casket, feeling guilty for being caught in the middle of such a shameful act. He had wanted to be gone before Tony returned.

"I am packing," he replied tersely, shaking off the guilt. He had every right to leave, there was no reason to feel bad about it.

"Loki, why the hell are you packing?" Tony asked coming over and slipping his arms around Loki's waist. "You don't even pack when you visit Asgard."

"I have no need to bring things to Asgard, since I usually return here afterwards," Loki said quietly, ignoring the hands pressing against his stomach. The very touch was nauseating, those same hands that caressed the woman's face after the kiss. The same hands that still had a small smudge of vivid red lipstick on them from where Tony wiped it off his lips. Loki smiled down bitterly at the red smear, holding back a laugh at the pure mockery of the situation. Tony remembered to wipe the lip stick away to hide his actions, only to broadcast it all the more with a fake show of affection.

Loki's skin began to crawl as he stared down, seeing red.
Red hair.
Red lips.
Red cape.
Red blood.
Crushing all the air out of him until he was as thin as paper. As small and insignificant as always. Left behind again and again to be trampled upon.

Loki shrugged his body away from Tony's, his rage simmering into a solid, cold hatred. Hard as ice, deep as the Arctic Ocean. Dark, lonely, and safe.
"I'm leaving you."

Tony paled, immediately stepping back and slipping his red stained hands behind his back. His attempts at a nonchalant pose failed.
"Why are you doing this, Loki? I thought we were good?"

"Good is a word meaning to be desired or approved of. Neither of these apply to our relationship any longer."

"What the hell do you mean?!" Tony shouted, his eyes flicking to the side for a moment. "You can't just tell me you're leaving and not give me a reason?"

"My reason?" Loki said softly, his mouth pressed into a thin white line. "I am crushed, Tony. That is my reason."

With a small smile, Loki flicked the casket' slid closed and picked it up. "I have fallen under your tread and you have eagerly walked all over me. My affections, my trust, my… love. You have basked in it until you grew bored."

"You wish to know my reason for leaving?" Loki asked once more, looking Tony in the eye as the ice around his heart cracked ever so slightly. His voice lowered into barely a whisper. "You left me first."


The first time he purposely hurt himself was three weeks after moving out of the Avengers tower. Thor had been over that day, once more attempting to fix things between Tony and him. Loki stared past his brothers face, instead focusing on the red cape that rolled off his shoulders to the floor.

Thor left after Loki went to the sink and threw up, then screamed at Thor to get away from him. His brother backed away, afraid and ashamed to have caused such a reaction. Loki slammed the door in his face and leaned against it heavily. He vaguely heard Thor say something about returning tomorrow. He didn't care. He didn't want to see red anymore.

But he did. That night he let his pale skin shed away into blue. His eyes drained from green to red as he watched in the mirror.
Tony used to ask him to change into his Jotun form. He said it was beautiful, especially the red eyes.

Loki stood up straighter and let the cheap robe fall from his body. He turned the shower on as hot as it could go, the arrow pointing to a little red circle. The bathroom filled with steam before he stepped under the boiling hot water and screamed. He stayed still as It burned his skin until it was nearly purple. An hour passed before he crumpled and fell from the shower, pulling the curtain with him as he hit the floor.
Loki lay there, draped in his green plastic shower curtain, burning his cheeks more with hot tears.
This was the first time he hurt himself, and the last time he cried.


"Open the door, Loki," Tony begged for the tenth time in the last hour. "I'm really worried about you, okay?"

"Your annoying older brother is too!"

"He's going to pee on the carpet if you―"
There was a loud smacking sound that was proceeded with a whiny grunt. Thor knocked louder on the door. "Brother! Open the door please! I have not seen you for months and Tony is here to apologize."

Loki smiled and rolled his head back on the couch to look upside down at the door. "I care not for either of your company. Leave."

"Please," Thor mumbled, his voice sounding closer. Loki imagined him pressing his forehead to the door, eyes closed with a look of anguish. He remembered, after the stampede, looking up and seeing his brother doing the same thing. He was pressing Loki's hand to his forehead, as if mere contact could heal his wounds. He remember the pain of having his arm held up like that, due to the fact that nearly every bone was broken. He remember Thor's perfectly clean face dirtied by Loki's own blood.
Loki laughed and spoke sharply,"Leave."

Another week passed with Loki enjoying his solitude. The night before, he had curled up in his closet and found that his blood was still red. He spent hours carving thin bloody lines along the white ones that cut through his blue flesh. He smiled sadly as each white line bubbled over with that hated color. He couldn't understand it. He asked himself why he would hurt himself like this when he already felt so broken. But every day he found some way to inflict pain. Every day he found an excuse to see red.

The next day was always spent healing in his pale skin. He never healed his wounds with magic, but let his natural fast healing take its course. It was more painful that way.
That day, he was sitting on the balcony with a cup of tea. It was early, the morning fog still rolling past his apartment building. He could never bring himself to hate the fog, no matter the memories associated with it.
There was a sound, so familiar, yet Loki could not quite place it. Seconds later he was crushed under the weight of something heavy and red.

"S-stark?!"

"Oh, so you can talk," Tony said, flipping up the faceplate to look at Loki. "Wait, hang on. Shit." He tried and failed to untangle Loki's robe from a seam in his armor. Loki hissed and disappeared from under him, reappearing in the living room.

"Why are you here, you putrid invertebrate?" Loki asked calmly, once more wrapping his robe around his body. Tony stood and came into the living room, glancing around curiously.

"I needed to talk. I… Jesus Christ!" He rushed forward and grabbed Loki's head, staring down at his face in shock. "What the hell are these cuts?!"

Loki stared back at him evenly. "Nothing of your concern, Stark. So leave."

Tony's eyes followed the small red lines down his neck and stopped. "These follow your Jotun markings," he said slowly, one hand reaching down and pulling the robe open. Loki glared but did not move, even as Tony tore the robe from his body exposing him.
"What is this Loki? Did you do these?"

"Yes."

Tony paled, his face standing out against his suit. White on red. "Your entire body? You did this to yourself?"

"Yes, Stark."

"Why?"

Loki opened his mouth to answer but found he had none. He snapped his mouth shut and looked away. "It is none of your business," he spoke quietly.

"It is too my business. Look," Tony started, lifting a hand to trace one of the lines down Loki's shoulder. It hurt. "I know I fucked up. All the alien gods of Asgard, I fucked up."

"Lokes, I can't apologize enough. Ever. I'll never be able to say enough to fix this." Tony paused, looking for a reaction from Loki. When he got none, he continued on, "I think, maybe, I can do things to fix it though. I'll start by telling you what it was."

"What what was?"

"Nostalgia," Tony said firmly. "It wasn't because I was tired of you. It wasn't because I wanted to move on, or love another person."

"She reminded me of Pepper, and for a day or two… I just wanted to feel that again."

Loki's carefully composed face twitched slightly, one of the cuts on his cheek started to bleed again. Tony let his suit fall away, reaching up with a hand to wipe off the blood.
"Loki, I love you. It's been months of being alone, and I still love you. Any moment I spent with her, I still loved you." He smiled sadly and brushed his hand once more over the cut. Loki's eyes followed Tony's hands, stained with red. His eyes widened.

"Oh."

"Oh?" Tony asked, his composure shattering. His eyes grew dark and sorrowful. "That's all you have to say?" He asked quietly.

"No," Loki responded, a weak smile forming. "I just understood something."

"What?"

Loki continued to smile faintly, lifting Tony's hand to his face and pressing it gently against his forehead. He closed his eyes. It felt warm against his skin and remembered how Thor's hands shook as he did this all those years ago. He stayed like this for a few moments, before his skin shimmered into blue once more. He heard a gasp and finally let go of Tony's hand, lifting his red eyes to look at him.

"Beautiful," Tony breathed, his eyes wide in wonder. "You always looked so good in blue."

Loki let out a soft sigh, the never ending stampede of hoofed creatures finally passing from his heart. He let the red cuts heal, once more revealing the white lines that graced his skin. He smiled weakly, but honestly, for the first time in months.

"You always looked good in red."