Disclaimer: I do not own any the fictional characters from Marvel's comics and/or movies.

Claimer: I do own the plot of this story.

The title of this story is based in the song "My Beloved Monster and Me" by Eel, in case you wanna check it out.

the word "Koerr" means "dear" in Old Norse.

Enjoy!

Loki considered himself a proud man. Or at least, he used to.

After all, he had very little flaws to be pointed out. He was both physicallyand mentally skilled; experienced in the magic field; was good humored and, according to several Asgardian ladies (and some of the warriors too), very handsome as well. If anything, he may have had a small problem of… holding a grudge in the past, but it was only due to his great ambition; and that was also considered a quality in his eyes.

However, those thoughts were in the past, for now not even Loki himself had any speck of respect and/or pride whatsoever left in his vast, twisted mind.

Said mind, was now solely focused in the pile of sheets and pillows in the twin bed before him that was Darcy Lewis's sleeping form. Unintentionally or not, Loki had made it a habit of his to 'harmlessly meddle in the female's routine', as he referred to the pranks he played in her.

He had absolutely no idea of how did he reach such stage of boredom that he now had to resort to childish games with mortals, but he had long ignored this fact and decided that it was his punishment as the 'almost slaver of the human race'.

Truth be told, he didn't regret his choices at the end of the battle that had taken place in the same streets he could see through the window by Darcy's bed. He wouldn't dare to say it out loud, but he enjoyed the feeling of freedom that came with it.

Another thing that he wouldn't share was that Tony Stark's little speech had had some effect on him, for he had come to a very peculiar conclusion; a thought that had been floating through his mind for a long time and forcing itself into his conscience until he wasn't capable of ignoring it anymore. He was tired. Loki was tired of being the villain, tired of (quite ironically) having to constantly feed his lies and mostly, tired of being alone.

Making what was most likely to be one of his most reckless decisions since he 'betrayed' his f- Odin, he used his scepter to close the portal the Tesseract had opened, ended its link with the mortal Selvik's mind and handed himself to his… brother.

He didn't give up, no; Loki did not give up. Loki merely decided to accept the fact that he was bound to lose this battle and that even if he didn't, he had realized that he did not wanted to be the king of a planet full of miserable mortals that wouldn't present any kind of amusement for him whatsoever; and how long could the God of Mischief bare the boredom wasn't something he wanted to find out.

That would most likely translate itself as one of the reasons for why he was so eagerly waiting for the mortal female to wake up, sitting on her desk with his foot taping impatiently in the chair before it.

The Avengers and Nick Fury had decided in an emergency meeting that the best alternative would be to keep Loki close and in this while he would fulfill his sentence. The sentence would be to live for undefined time with the 'worms' he so fervently despised as an ordinary New York City citizen with no use of magic (courtesy of Odin) and to assist Shield along with Thor whenever they faced an enemy that required Asgardian interference. The God of Thunder had agreed to share a small apartment with his brother, with the nonnegotiable condition that it would be located next to Jane Foster's new home. Which also happened to be next to Darcy Lewis's apartment.

Odin's spell was very similar to Mjolnir's charm except it wasn't permanent, meaning that Loki would gradually regain his magic abilities the more he showed that he had learned about the 'human nature' and the existence of 'kindness' and 'compassion' in him. Apparently kindness and compassion were explicit in the act of not murdering every mortal that came in one's way and tolerating their presence without any affronts, because after three months of his sentence, Loki was able to turn Darcy's bedroom floor into water.

Ironically, the bundle in the twin bed on the room had started to lazily move before an astonishingly pale arm creped from out of it in the small side table's direction to retrieve the small object that mortals called a cell phone.

Loki was amused as he watched the arm tuck itself back into the warmth of the covers and after a few moments heard a loud frustrated groan from its owner. Darcy put the phone back on the table and slowly dragged the rest of her body to the edge of the bed. Her feet hanged from it searching for the wooden floor, finding instead a cold and liquid substance she couldn't quite recognize in her half sleeping state until she inched herself a bit forward and fell into the freezing water. Darcy screamed in shock; now fully awaken, as she desperately searched for support with her hands.

For some reason, that not even Loki himself could comprehend, he had taken a liking for this particular mortal since the moment they first met. Her wit and dark sense of humor reminded him a lot of himself, yet her lack of tact and care of what she said or when she said were some of the greatest challenges of his punishment in Midgard. However, her reactions to his 'pranks' were getting dangerously close to be the biggest enjoyment he had in this world; aside from the occasional bandit fighting provided by Shield, of course.

Loki sneered as she clanged herself to the chair he had his feet on. He may have looked a bit cruel at the moment, but the small lake he had created wasn't deep enough for her to drown, instead it counted with small rocks, plants, dirt and even a small variety of fishes and eels; and that was much more fun.

"What the fuck?!" She yelled at him.

"Hello Lady Darcy." He replied with a smile. "How are we this morning?"

"How about fucking freezing, asshole?" She said between gritted teeth.

"I can see that…" His eyes scanned her body from the waist to the top, lingering long enough in her chest for her to notice.

"What the hell are y-" She stopped in the middle of her sentence, eyes wide with dread. If Loki had to guess based on his personal experience in facial features reading, he would have assumed she had kicked an eel.

"Something wrong?" He asked.

"Get me out of here!"

"As you wish." Wish a devilish smile and a motion of his hand, Loki teleported Darcy.

"HOLLY SHIT!"

Darcy hugged her sides to protect herself from the cool breeze that touched her damp clothes and hair. She looked around; eyes adjusting to the sudden morning light that crept from in between the clouds covering the sky. Aside from the ruins of the remaining buildings of Manhattan and the already effervescent buzz of cars and people beneath, the view from the roof of the building was no less than remarkable.

However, still cold.

"Loki!" Darcy screamed, hugging herself harder.

He appeared before her bearing the usual conceited smile as though the last minutes hadn't happened at all.

"Yes?"

"What the hell?!"

"Are you used to shout as you speak?"

"Get me back to me place, I'm freezing douchebag!" She said and spoke again, stopping his arm in midway. "My normal place."

His grin faded into a disappointed frown and with a swift wave of his hand they were back to the apartment; now with a solid floor in all rooms and no eels to be seen.

Darcy eyed the room cautiously then stared down for several seconds, poking the wooden floorboards with her toe as if they would melt as soon as she looked away.

"Okay… Guess it's normal now…" She whispered to herself and glared at Loki. "Now what the hell was that?!"

"Whatever do you mean?" He was well aware the he was close to reach her limits (if he hadn't already), especially with his last sentence, but he was enjoying himself too much to stop…

"You know damn well what I meant you lunatic!" Darcy stepped closer to him, with clenched fists and lips fin as a line.

"You look lovely when angry, Lady Darcy." He smirked.

Maybe it would be too vague to classify Loki's feelings for Darcy as a 'liking', for in the last month he had realized it had become far deeper (and dangerous) than that. Since he had first met her he acknowledged that she was gorgeous, much more beautiful than any Asgardian lady he had ever seen; in fact, he even considered 'getting acquainted with Midgardian culture' through her. For that, he had started a relationship. No more than a few greetings or casual conversations, so he could achieve her confidence, however… As mortals say, it got complicated.

"Don't go getting all flirty with me now mister." She retorted. "Do you know what day it's today?"

Loki remained silent, fully aware of the rhetorical question (and of the date) and waited for her to finish.

"Today is Sunday. Do you know how do people who work 6 days a week like to wake up on Sundays? They get two choices: either peacefully with maybe those ringtones that sound like bird or rain in the morning and stuff; either they don't, 'cause they're just too tired. But apparently I don't get to choose because guess what? Freaking nutjob from space is in town!"

Loki looked away in a desperate attempt of not showing the smile forcing itself in his features. He knew it would be worse to show amusement than annoyance, so he swallowed his grin and settled with a fake seriousness expression.

"What is wrong with you?" She poked his chest with a softer look in her eyes, although still clearly irritated.

"My brother could give you several examples." He couldn't resist for too long.

"Idiot…" She walked away in the bathroom's direction and after a few moments he heard the rushing sound of the shower.

Darcy Lewis had entered his mind in a way even he wouldn't be able to do with any one, scepter or not. His strategy had failed miserably as the more time he spent by her side, the more he grew attached to the eccentric human.

He first started to question his own mental health when he noticed the presence of certain peculiar feelings in his mind. He had the unbearable urge to be with her wherever he was (and that even went so far as to give him a rather deep cut in his forearm for being too distracted in the middle of a fight), the strange habit of getting irritated whenever she was in the company of other men (something that happened more often than he would've ever fancied) and also he would feel extremely inclined to enliven her mood whenever she seemed depressed; although the last one often ended up with her becoming mad… But it was better than being unhappy, in any case.

Loki sat on the small lavender sofa against the wall of the living room. He stretchered his long legs and idly set his feet on the center table. He would have to think of something really good to make up for it this time…

And then sometimes he seemed to become aware of his situation, sometimes he would remember that he was Loki, the God of Mischief and Lies, the ice giant raised by the royal family of Asgard, the destroyer of the Manhattan Island… and he was worried about what one miserable little mortal would think of him. Those were the few occasions when he would feel disgusted by what he had become and would consider simply going on a rampage and murder every living creature he came across, but would shortly discard that alternative considering that he found himself in great power disadvantage and that, even if he wasn't, those sickening human feelings had long taken control of him.

"For the twelfth time, feet off the table."

Darcy stood in her bedroom's doorway, now fully dressed and seemly less enraged.

He rose from his sitting spot and walked in her direction, their eyes never leaving each other's until he was inches from her.

"Now that you've so kindheartedly woke me up," She started. "What are you planning to do? Dying my hair green? Again?"

"I'll do whatever you want to do, milady." He beamed smugly and raised one all-knowing eyebrow.

"You have no right to talk dirty to me like that, mister!" She poked his chest. "Not until you make up for almost giving me a freaking heart attack."

"Oh, I can make up for it…" He perversely sneaked an arm around her waist and pulled her closer.

Perhaps someday, Loki would at last forget about his arrogance and become the renovated man that the optimistic mortals that knew about his condition, such as Jane Foster, hoped he would or, more realistically, simply accept his punishment more humbly as the Avengers and Shield tried to ensure he would.

Whatever happened during his period in Midgard, on those moments he had with Darcy Lewis, the human, he seemed to not to be bothered by the chance of not being respected by one living soul in the whole galaxy who respected him, as the proud man he was, he didn't care that he had lost the biggest battle he had ever fought and he didn't mind that he had to spent what were most likely to become years in the company of one of his most despised races of the nine kingdoms; he only felt… well.

It was still a mystery for him the new thoughts and feelings that swirled wildly through his already chaotic mind, as well as many other things, but he welcomed it. He was after all, the God of Mischief.

"You stupid idiot being all pretty on me~" Darcy let out the silly giggle Loki could never define as less than adorable that she usually did when she was happy with him.

"Excellent pleonasm, koerr." His lips curled into a genuine smile before he leaned down and kissed her deeply.

And what was a Loki without mischief?

Sweetooze