Wow, okay. This chapter is all over the place. And by that- there are two quirks about Victoria you will learn.
One of which is that she believes the way to progress is through compassion and tenderness. She isn't sure why she thinks this yet, but she will soon. She even tries it on Loki. I'm pretty sure she is like- 400% done with Loki at this point. ANYWAY.
Enjoy?
OCs © StaciaStarburst
Loki and almost everything else © Marvel
"You are my most disappointing project." Loki's teeth skimmed her ear. "Just a bottom tier, misleading wretch." His body shifted to straddle her smaller frame. He was wearing plain slacks and a green button-down.
"While you've been out with the Hero, I've been doing some reading. The human body really is fascinating. Even the smallest touches-" His eyes caught hers, soaking in her fear. With a feral and sated smile, his hand moved from the armrest to her fingers, singling out the pinky. His thumb pressed the digit into a curl, then pushed sharply.
She arched her back, her sharp intake of air being cut off with his crushing lips. Her only reaction was to bite; it was probably the only reaction she had to pain. He pulled away, touching his swollen lip with frustration.
His hand returned to hers, crushing the muscle that rested between her thumb and index finger. This time, she twisted her body groaning. Her back arched again when he released the pressure point.
"If only you had been crafted properly. You may have been of use." He released her hands completely, letting them fall behind her limply. Her chest was moving up and down with each labored breath she took. Victoria was over-sensitive with alcohol in her system, everything that he stimulated numbed another part of her body.
"I-" She began to rasp an excuse before a bruising smack came across her face. Her head remained turned after impact. The only thing she managed was a broken sob, just one choked-up cough.
A firm grip held her chin to bring her face forward. Loki wasn't satisfied. She didn't look broken yet. Another smack, and still he wasn't satisfied. His hand gingerly removed the stray hair from her already-bruising face.
Her upper lip was already split, her cheeks swelling. He studied her face as her eyes lulled up to meet his. She smiled.
"Tell me how I'm beneath you- limp, pliant, and beaten- yet you're the one who looks more upset." Victoria's voice was a raspy whisper. Threading her fingers together, she brought her clasped hands over his head, pulling him into a half-hearted hug. "Even if you broke my bones, cut off my flesh-" she pulled her lips flush to his ear, "you won't be happy. This isn't what you want."
She could feel his hand snake up her chest, slowly, languidly. It terrified her to no end, so she pulled back. Victoria looked at him as he followed the movements of his own hand. The sound of his thoughts practically boomed in her ears before she felt her heart stop. His face was feral, menacing, and more terrifying than she had seen him before.
The next to stop was her breathing. His cool hand was tightly wrapped about her neck, his teeth bared. "What I want? How could you know what I want!?"
Victoria grasped his hands, giving a feeble attempt at making him release her. Her head swam a little, partially from the alcohol in her system, but mostly because her oxygen supply was being shortened. Before she was able to speak, he moved from the couch, pulling her with him by the throat.
Her back went rigid against the wall, still limply grabbing at his hands for leverage. His eyes searched hers and the fear inside of her began to well up. Loki spoke first, "What a cute little trick- isn't it? As soon as you thought you had an upper hand. Pathetic." He scoffed, returning to his monologue with a disappointed tone. "They say you must give a little to receive a little. Now, it's time for me to reap my reward."
In that instance, the color in eyes shifted like they had the first time. The blue flecks turned to black before Victoria squeezed her eyes shut. Pain raked over her body, pulling at every muscle and nerve. She wailed, thrashed, clawed, scratched- anything to push out the feeling inside of her.
Victoria stilled, breathing heavily as the surges left her body.
"You thought I would just break a trance on you? You immediately compared that experience to that of the other's. But it wasn't the same, now was it? It burned. I branded you, dear." He sighed in an annoyed tone. "I should have expected this from a mortal- it was foolish of me to think otherwise of some fallen being." He released her.
Victoria slid down against the wall and slouched forward. She couldn't keep putting up with this. She could not go on like this.
"So," she began to mutter. Her voice trembled, "I will be subjected to pain on a near-constant basis. Why let me see any sort of your internal struggles? You're not making sense."
"Do you know why you exist?" Loki questioned flatly.
Victoria picked up her head and pressed it against the wall. She couldn't get used to his bipolar tendencies. Her reply was a shake of the head, not risking the chance of being abused. She also didn't want to ask why he was avoiding her question.
"When the people of Asgard commit acts of treason, they are dealt with in a special way. Regardless of status, they are cast out. Some never have a chance at redemption, others receive royal treatment." He licked his lips, "People who roam Midgard are fallen Aesir. They are not welcomed back into the 'Golden City.' Instead, they are reborn here to families of many variety. The struggles in their life on Earth are a directed punishment from the Allfather. The worse the living situation for a human, the more terrible the act they committed before they were left here. Only two of them have ever been given a chance at redeeming their titles in Asgard.
"Mind you, not all of the mortals that trudge about Midgard are fallen Aesir. You however, are." He crouched in front of Victoria, grasping her chin in his hand before she had a chance to protest. "However, you are a rare and unfortunate case. You see, your birth mother in Asgard recently met her execution date, but not before watching you suffer your pathetic life. It really was adorable how she begged for any other punishment- anything but watching you live a sad life. Your mother then and recently were both tried for their treasonous crimes and were executed. And thats not even the worst of all your tragedy."
Loki stood up, continuing with his speech. "Your Asgardian Mother's act of crime was so ungodly, they couldn't punish her simply by sending her here. They sent you; you were the only thing she loved. For what- I still haven't grasped-"
"You're lying."
"I beg your pa-" Loki began.
Victoria stood up, not sparing him another glance as she crossed the room. Her palm swiped the tears from her eyes before she grabbed onto the doorknob, ready to take a long walk, maybe off of a cliff. Loki was behind her in a flash, removing her hand. "I'm not done with you." He spat.
Her free hand moved to her umbrella case, pulling out one of her murderous objects. With one quick motion, she leaned back against him, swinging the rusty short pole in front of her, soon connecting with the side of his head. In a moment of shock, his grip loosened and she nearly fractured her elbow when she drew it to his gut. He actually stumbled back.
Victoria seized the opportunity, nearly ripped the door from its hinges, and darted out. Her ankle protested, so instead of taking on the stairs, she gripped the rails of them, slipping between the gaps with ease. She managed to descend the seven flights of stairs in a matter of thirty seconds.
When she landed on her good foot, she prepared to continue her sprint. Instead, Loki was standing in front of her, his demeanor calm.
"Honestly, you handled it better than some people might have." He continued his explanation like their conversation hadn't been interrupted. "The coma incident, I imagine, was because you had grown wise of your actual heritage. And to be honest again, I have no knowledge of you before that incident. It is unimportant to me. But I chose you." He stepped forward and she stepped back. "Because I know that you harbor the same hatred in your heart that I do." He stepped forward and she felt the brick wall behind her. "And you know it too."
Loki rested his fingertips beside her left eye, stroking her temple gently. She flinched away from his touch. He hushed her like a small child, "Shh. Nothing bad is going to happen to you again. If you be good, I can make everything better. You have to trust me."
"Trust the God of Lies?" Her voice was quiet, almost submissive, passive.
"Yes," he whispered against her head, his voice too soft; his demeanor too gentle. Red flag. "I need you to rely on me, and we can accomplish so much. But-" Loki's hand snuck its way behind her head, pulling sharply at her long hair. She stifled a whimper as he forced her to look him in the eyes. "You need to learn your place. You are beneath me. You will believe every word I speak. You will not question me. You will obey me. You're making this far too difficult, you rotten child."
Victoria parted her lips to speak, but no words came out. All she could do was feel her tears streak her face. She dared to voice one request, "W-will you please s-stop hurting me? I d-don't respond well t-to it." She swallowed audibly. "I m-mean, the pain isn't the issue- I j-just- Can't their be neutral grounds?"
Loki eyed her with disinterest before sliding his hand up the back of her head, gripping the hair on top, then proceeding to slam her head against the wall. When her body slumped forward, he gathered her in his arms easily and moved toward the stairs.
"I told you, you may not make requests and if you'd like to live to serve a God, you'd listen to me." He glanced down at her inanimate body, folded gracelessly in his arms.
"Good girl."
"Good girl." The man beside Victoria patted her back. She was sitting cross-legged on the ground, attempting to catch her breath. Her hands swept the hair form her face as she looked up at her dad. He was crouching next to her, holding out a bottle of water.
She was 12 and 'killed' her opponent. The execution was perfect. When her partner stood up so did she, taking his hand to shake it and thank him for his time. The man was approximately 5' 11" and eight years her senior. He knew the girl was unique, so he took no shame to loosing to someone of her size.
Even she knew what she was capable of, but when she studied her dad's face, something was off. He didn't look like the one she was reunited with after the coma. All she knew was that he was her father, he was proud of her, and that was all that mattered.
There was a calm, warm atmosphere. He was such a kind man, so nurturing. Thats all she remembered. Kindness. But that wasn't how she felt with her mom's husband.
She remembered.
The alarm screamed and Victoria shot up out of her bed, he head screaming in protest. She plucked it form its resting place and threw it at the wall. Satisfied that it rested in pieces, she crawled out of bed, threw on whatever she could find, and drug herself to the S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters to train.
Her mind flipped back through the previous night. She really wished Loki would stop bashing her head against things. It was affecting her sleep and thought process. Her dad was not nice, not ever.
What a weird dream, she thought. Victoria shrugged it off, continuing her rushed limp.
