FIC: Villainous Valentine [Marvel Movieverse, Loki &/x Darcy]
Title: Villainous Valentine
Author: Omnicat
Unofficially Adapted From: Kenneth Branagh & co’s Thor. Also includes references to other parts of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, Dreamworks’ Shrek, the Disney oeuvre, Lauren Faust & co’s My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, George Lucas & co’s Star Wars, Naoko Kadeuchi’s Sailor Moon, Gene Roddenberry & co’s Star Trek, and DC’s Batman.
Spoilers & Desirable Foreknowledge: Thor.
Warnings: None.
Characters & Pairings: Darcy (x) Loki, OCs
Summary: Loki is a bit annoyed with mortal holidays, until Darcy shows him an alternate way of celebrating them: the cosplayer’s way. // 2087 words
Author’s Note: Written as a sequel to Christmas Crashing, but if you skip the part before the scene break, it can stand on its own pretty well. Enjoy!
Villainous Valentine
“Your realm has entirely too many holidays centred around love and family and togetherness,” Loki said over Darcy’s bloodcurdling scream. “Whatever happened to celebrating the wars you’ve won and the monsters you’ve slayed?”
He finished fastening his seatbelt, straightened his tie, and turned toward her just as she won the fight with the door handle and tumbled sideways out of the car. Sighing, he crooked a finger to magically reel her back in and close the door again.
“Darcy,” Loki said with an air of longsuffering. “You are a learned woman, are you not?”
“Please don’t kill me,” Darcy whimpered. “I don’t want my last act to have been spending two hours getting this stupid wig on right.”
“Because for a learned woman you aren’t very quick on the uptake,” he said, asshole-delicately. “I’m not here to kill you. Just like I wasn’t there to kill you last time.”
Darcy squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh God. Not again.”
“I brought you flowers?”
She opened one tentative eye - to a bouquet of oversized daisies in various shades of pink and purple being shoved right under her nose. When she didn’t immediately brighten and forget all about the unhinged supervillain invasion going on in her car, Loki rolled his wrist, conjuring a luxurious-looking, heart-shaped box.
“And chocolates?”
Well. She had wished for a repeat performance. Sort of. Kinda. Before he turned around and reminded her of the unhinged supervillain part again by turning the Eiffel Tower into some kind of giant metal zombie for New Year’s. In hindsight, though, of course not holding on to her hostility all through the night would be interpreted as a wholehearted ‘oh yes please, God of Mischief, again!’. Why Loki wasn’t the God of Opportunism on top of everything else was a mystery for the ages.
“On one condition,” Darcy said. Before voicing said condition, she made sure to wait until she wasn’t gruesomely murdered just for suggesting such a thing. “I get to decide where we go. And you’re paying. For everything.”
“That’s two conditions.” At her scowl, Loki looked extra innocent. “Just saying. That being said - of course. It was never my intention to interrupt your plans for the day.”
Human physiology was not adequately equipped to vocalize Darcy’s feeling of ‘YEAH RIGHT’. Whatever remained of her survival instincts made sure she didn’t even try.
“Now,” Loki said with a smirk and an elegant gesture ahead through the windshield. “Lead the way to today’s entertainment, Miss Lewis.”
“These... nerds... we’re meeting. Have they all decided to swap Valentine’s Day for Halloween?” Loki asked, eyeing a heavy-set couple walking down the street dressed as Shrek and Princess Fiona. Then he ran his eyes up and down Darcy’s body, acknowledging her own costume for what seemed like the first time that day.
“Nope,” was all a grinning Darcy said, fully revelling in the fact that she knew things Mister Supervillain-Alien-God-Prince didn’t.
They had had to park the car four blocks from the convention centre, so now they were walking the rest of the way, through lukewarm sunshine and lots of unsubtle staring. None of the staring was accompanied by screaming, Darcy noted with great satisfaction. Catsuit and awesome boobs: 1. World’s Most Wanted list dudes that couldn’t get a their hands on a picture without the helmet: 0.
The closer they got to their destination, the more cosplayers intermingled with the normal pedestrians. A group of Disney Princesses was already busily posing for pictures by the entrance, and when Darcy and Loki entered the building, Loki’s eyebrows crept toward his hairline.
“Are you quite sure that everyone remembers what holiday this is?”
“This, my friend,” Darcy said, spinning around to face him and spreading her arms. “is WonderlandCon, the Valentine’s Edition. And this is ten times better than Halloween could ever hope to be. Let’s get our tickets.”
Once they were in, Darcy made no excuses and headed straight for the dealer room. “You’re paying for everything,” she reminded Loki. “Including my purchases. Right?”
“Yes, of course,” he said, looking up from the event booklet with twinkling eyes. “Anything for my valentine.”
An hour or so later, Darcy’s four-page Nerdstuffs Wishlist had been brought back to two pages (no one convention could house all the things she wanted) and Loki’s pockets were bulging with tickets for their extra bags. All of which he had carried for her. Darcy was not-quite-eerily reminded of the Christmas he had spent with her and her family, and how hard it had been to remember that Loki hadn’t actually been invited to that party either. And that he was evil. No matter how often he invited her to rant and gush about the books and DVDs she purchased - evil. Even if he discreetly magiced the only remaining Princess Luna pony up from the bottom of one of those impossibly high tubs, whereas any normal person would have had to tip it over to find her - evil. Nevermind that he tried on a pair of Mickey Mouse ears, and Princess Leia and Sailor Moon wigs, and even a Captain America cowl, not caring what a mess it made of his hair - evil. And especially when he had a magical wallet that never ran out of cash - so very evil.
(It wasn’t until a week later, when he uncharacteristically robbed a bank and the news showed him throwing a Vulcan salute at a security camera, that it occurred to Darcy that her wonderful pile of loot had almost certainly been paid for with stolen money.)
For a while there, Darcy didn’t think the day could get any better. They made it on time to the Shipping panel (which predictably devolved into anarchy, thereby catering to both Darcy’s and Loki’s interests), sat in on a game of kiss or dare, got (re)acquainted with a diet of instant ramen, butterbeer and pocky, walked into a confetti trap that covered them in little pink hearts, asked people for pictures, and had their picture taken. Most of the photo requests were for Darcy’s ‘Black Widow’. Loki got more than his fair share as well, though, especially considering that he wasn’t even dressed up.
Amidst the cosplays, geek-shirt-and-jeans combos, random wigs, painted faces, animal ears, wings and tails, and other forms of nerd chic, Loki’s perfectly tailored suit and green-gold scarf stood out like a sore thumb. Or maybe just like a question mark; several people approached them wondering if he was supposed to be Bruce Wayne. And asked for a picture anyway when he told them no. Loki looked as pleased as the cat who got the cream and gave every one of them the photo session of a lifetime. He even included Darcy in the madness, giving an impromptu crash course on getting in character as the cameras flashed away. (She didn’t like to admit she’d needed it, but she had.)
Then it got even better.
Just as Darcy started to wonder if she really was the only Black Widow cosplayer on the premises, out came the Avengers cosplayers. There were at least twenty of them, and they came pouring from the elevators like clowns from a clown car.
I missed a fucking Avengers meet, was Darcy’s first, devastated thought. Then the last few of the group came into view, and she poked Loki’s ribs over and over until he saw what she’d seen. His face was a magnificent display of annoyance giving way to flabbergasted shock giving way to unholy glee. If she thought he’d looked pleased before, it was nothing, nothing compared to this. His face lit up like a Christmas tree. He looked like a little boy.
He started poking her in the ribs - with considerably more force than she had him - and bent down to giggle in her ear. Like a little boy. “Darcy, Darcy, that’s me!”
“Yes, it’s you.”
He turned wide eyes on her. “Isn’t cosplay supposed to be a form of idol worship? Paying tribute to one’s heroes? Why are these people cosplaying as me?”
That sounded like something teenagers would tell overly strict parents to try and sell the con scene as educationally valid. Darcy decided not to disabuse him of the notion.
“You tried to take over the world with an army of bikini models,” she explained instead. “That kind of detail tends to overshadow the amount of damage done.”
“I only had them look like that because their natural appearance made my stomach turn,” Loki said with a dismissive wave of the hand. It was physically impossible for the moment to remember that she was talking about actual world domination attempts with an actual villain. She suspected the sudden increase in hand-sewn spandex, bright plastic armour, and foam weapons in the vicinity was to blame.
“Whatever,” Darcy said. “If you weren’t there to be turned into a giant killer rat or something, your stunts tend to be awesome.” She paused. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s nothing I didn’t already know,” Loki assured her with a catlike smirk. Then he turned back to the cosplayers, who were slowly coming closer. “Look, one of the mes has breasts!”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t have tried to bind those babies either,” Darcy said, grimacing at the thought.
The thought seemed to disturb Loki almost as much. “People do that?”
“Crossplayers do.”
“Sounds like it’s high time I introduced Midgard to my female form. It would be cruel to let my women admirers torture themselves any longer.”
“You have a female form?”
Loki ignored her gleefully. “Look, I’m being swamped by nerds with photo cameras!”
At the same time, the Avengers group caught sight of Darcy and Loki - and more importantly, of Darcy’s costume.
“Hey, there’s another Widow. Black Widow, come join us! We’re having an Avengers shoot outside.”
Loki straightened abruptly. “Darcy, go join them,” he said. “I’ll be back in a moment.” And he marched off in the direction of the men’s rooms.
Only too happily, Darcy complied. One of the Hawkeyes took one look at her costume and devolved into instant gushing, wanted to know all about how she’d made it and what materials she’d used to make it look so lifelike. ‘It’s a closet cosplay,’ Darcy almost bragged. ‘From my BFF’s closet.’ But she wasn’t actually supposed to have Natasha’s hand-me-downs, let alone one her mom had remodelled to accommodate her daughter’s greater bust size and smaller stature, so instead she evaded the question by loudly wondering why there weren’t any Hulks in their group.
That question didn’t get answered either. Because Loki - the real Loki - had returned. Wearing his real armour and helmet.
“Wow,” someone said.
“Wow,” at least five others said in answer.
“Hello to you too,” Loki said, smirking with every fibre of his being.
And then all the cosplayers, from the ‘Thor’ with armour made of tinfoiled cardboard and duct tape to the Captain America whose only flaw was insufficient padding to fill up his amazing costume, were crowded around Loki gushing about his ‘awesome cosplay’.
Darcy hadn’t thought it possible for a single person to exude so much smug satisfaction. It was official. If everyone would just set aside their mortal peril for a minute and gave the guy a standing ovation, Loki’s reign of cracktastic terror would be over.
Which was nice and all, but an hour later they had barely moved an inch and that scenic group photo shoot was looking unlikelier by the minute. It was as if every Avengers and Loki fan in the convention had found their way to them. They just couldn’t get enough of Loki. And Loki just couldn’t get enough of them.
“You’re really getting off on this, aren’t you?” Darcy managed to whisper in his ear during a string of group hug pictures.
“Oh, yes.”
“That’s kind of pathetic, you know. You’re only getting all this attention because they think you’re something you’re not.”
“God of Lies, Miss Lewis,” Loki returned glibly. “Don’t forget it.”
And then the world spun and he had his arm around her waist, dipping her backwards until she had no choice but to squeak indignantly and cling to him. He grinned down at her and raised his voice.
“Any shippers in the room?”
A collective cheer went up.
“Any requests?”
“Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!”
Grin turning positively feral, Loki lowered his voice again so only Darcy could hear. “Any objections?”
Oh, what the hell, Darcy thought, and pulled herself up until she could press her mouth to his. You only do something this crazy once.
Darcy’s Dastardly Dates
Loki takes Darcy hostage and proves to be an excellent holiday date. (Also, alliteration!)
Christmas Crashing
Nobody invites Loki to their Christmas dinners. So Loki invites himself to Darcy’s. // 1480 words
Villainous Valentine
Loki is a bit annoyed with mortal holidays, until Darcy shows him an alternate way of celebrating them: the cosplayer’s way. // 2087 words
Author: Omnicat
Unofficially Adapted From: Kenneth Branagh & co’s Thor. Also includes references to other parts of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, Dreamworks’ Shrek, the Disney oeuvre, Lauren Faust & co’s My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, George Lucas & co’s Star Wars, Naoko Kadeuchi’s Sailor Moon, Gene Roddenberry & co’s Star Trek, and DC’s Batman.
Spoilers & Desirable Foreknowledge: Thor.
Warnings: None.
Characters & Pairings: Darcy (x) Loki, OCs
Summary: Loki is a bit annoyed with mortal holidays, until Darcy shows him an alternate way of celebrating them: the cosplayer’s way. // 2087 words
Author’s Note: Written as a sequel to Christmas Crashing, but if you skip the part before the scene break, it can stand on its own pretty well. Enjoy!
Villainous Valentine
“Your realm has entirely too many holidays centred around love and family and togetherness,” Loki said over Darcy’s bloodcurdling scream. “Whatever happened to celebrating the wars you’ve won and the monsters you’ve slayed?”
He finished fastening his seatbelt, straightened his tie, and turned toward her just as she won the fight with the door handle and tumbled sideways out of the car. Sighing, he crooked a finger to magically reel her back in and close the door again.
“Darcy,” Loki said with an air of longsuffering. “You are a learned woman, are you not?”
“Please don’t kill me,” Darcy whimpered. “I don’t want my last act to have been spending two hours getting this stupid wig on right.”
“Because for a learned woman you aren’t very quick on the uptake,” he said, asshole-delicately. “I’m not here to kill you. Just like I wasn’t there to kill you last time.”
Darcy squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh God. Not again.”
“I brought you flowers?”
She opened one tentative eye - to a bouquet of oversized daisies in various shades of pink and purple being shoved right under her nose. When she didn’t immediately brighten and forget all about the unhinged supervillain invasion going on in her car, Loki rolled his wrist, conjuring a luxurious-looking, heart-shaped box.
“And chocolates?”
Well. She had wished for a repeat performance. Sort of. Kinda. Before he turned around and reminded her of the unhinged supervillain part again by turning the Eiffel Tower into some kind of giant metal zombie for New Year’s. In hindsight, though, of course not holding on to her hostility all through the night would be interpreted as a wholehearted ‘oh yes please, God of Mischief, again!’. Why Loki wasn’t the God of Opportunism on top of everything else was a mystery for the ages.
“On one condition,” Darcy said. Before voicing said condition, she made sure to wait until she wasn’t gruesomely murdered just for suggesting such a thing. “I get to decide where we go. And you’re paying. For everything.”
“That’s two conditions.” At her scowl, Loki looked extra innocent. “Just saying. That being said - of course. It was never my intention to interrupt your plans for the day.”
Human physiology was not adequately equipped to vocalize Darcy’s feeling of ‘YEAH RIGHT’. Whatever remained of her survival instincts made sure she didn’t even try.
“Now,” Loki said with a smirk and an elegant gesture ahead through the windshield. “Lead the way to today’s entertainment, Miss Lewis.”
“These... nerds... we’re meeting. Have they all decided to swap Valentine’s Day for Halloween?” Loki asked, eyeing a heavy-set couple walking down the street dressed as Shrek and Princess Fiona. Then he ran his eyes up and down Darcy’s body, acknowledging her own costume for what seemed like the first time that day.
“Nope,” was all a grinning Darcy said, fully revelling in the fact that she knew things Mister Supervillain-Alien-God-Prince didn’t.
They had had to park the car four blocks from the convention centre, so now they were walking the rest of the way, through lukewarm sunshine and lots of unsubtle staring. None of the staring was accompanied by screaming, Darcy noted with great satisfaction. Catsuit and awesome boobs: 1. World’s Most Wanted list dudes that couldn’t get a their hands on a picture without the helmet: 0.
The closer they got to their destination, the more cosplayers intermingled with the normal pedestrians. A group of Disney Princesses was already busily posing for pictures by the entrance, and when Darcy and Loki entered the building, Loki’s eyebrows crept toward his hairline.
“Are you quite sure that everyone remembers what holiday this is?”
“This, my friend,” Darcy said, spinning around to face him and spreading her arms. “is WonderlandCon, the Valentine’s Edition. And this is ten times better than Halloween could ever hope to be. Let’s get our tickets.”
Once they were in, Darcy made no excuses and headed straight for the dealer room. “You’re paying for everything,” she reminded Loki. “Including my purchases. Right?”
“Yes, of course,” he said, looking up from the event booklet with twinkling eyes. “Anything for my valentine.”
An hour or so later, Darcy’s four-page Nerdstuffs Wishlist had been brought back to two pages (no one convention could house all the things she wanted) and Loki’s pockets were bulging with tickets for their extra bags. All of which he had carried for her. Darcy was not-quite-eerily reminded of the Christmas he had spent with her and her family, and how hard it had been to remember that Loki hadn’t actually been invited to that party either. And that he was evil. No matter how often he invited her to rant and gush about the books and DVDs she purchased - evil. Even if he discreetly magiced the only remaining Princess Luna pony up from the bottom of one of those impossibly high tubs, whereas any normal person would have had to tip it over to find her - evil. Nevermind that he tried on a pair of Mickey Mouse ears, and Princess Leia and Sailor Moon wigs, and even a Captain America cowl, not caring what a mess it made of his hair - evil. And especially when he had a magical wallet that never ran out of cash - so very evil.
(It wasn’t until a week later, when he uncharacteristically robbed a bank and the news showed him throwing a Vulcan salute at a security camera, that it occurred to Darcy that her wonderful pile of loot had almost certainly been paid for with stolen money.)
For a while there, Darcy didn’t think the day could get any better. They made it on time to the Shipping panel (which predictably devolved into anarchy, thereby catering to both Darcy’s and Loki’s interests), sat in on a game of kiss or dare, got (re)acquainted with a diet of instant ramen, butterbeer and pocky, walked into a confetti trap that covered them in little pink hearts, asked people for pictures, and had their picture taken. Most of the photo requests were for Darcy’s ‘Black Widow’. Loki got more than his fair share as well, though, especially considering that he wasn’t even dressed up.
Amidst the cosplays, geek-shirt-and-jeans combos, random wigs, painted faces, animal ears, wings and tails, and other forms of nerd chic, Loki’s perfectly tailored suit and green-gold scarf stood out like a sore thumb. Or maybe just like a question mark; several people approached them wondering if he was supposed to be Bruce Wayne. And asked for a picture anyway when he told them no. Loki looked as pleased as the cat who got the cream and gave every one of them the photo session of a lifetime. He even included Darcy in the madness, giving an impromptu crash course on getting in character as the cameras flashed away. (She didn’t like to admit she’d needed it, but she had.)
Then it got even better.
Just as Darcy started to wonder if she really was the only Black Widow cosplayer on the premises, out came the Avengers cosplayers. There were at least twenty of them, and they came pouring from the elevators like clowns from a clown car.
I missed a fucking Avengers meet, was Darcy’s first, devastated thought. Then the last few of the group came into view, and she poked Loki’s ribs over and over until he saw what she’d seen. His face was a magnificent display of annoyance giving way to flabbergasted shock giving way to unholy glee. If she thought he’d looked pleased before, it was nothing, nothing compared to this. His face lit up like a Christmas tree. He looked like a little boy.
He started poking her in the ribs - with considerably more force than she had him - and bent down to giggle in her ear. Like a little boy. “Darcy, Darcy, that’s me!”
“Yes, it’s you.”
He turned wide eyes on her. “Isn’t cosplay supposed to be a form of idol worship? Paying tribute to one’s heroes? Why are these people cosplaying as me?”
That sounded like something teenagers would tell overly strict parents to try and sell the con scene as educationally valid. Darcy decided not to disabuse him of the notion.
“You tried to take over the world with an army of bikini models,” she explained instead. “That kind of detail tends to overshadow the amount of damage done.”
“I only had them look like that because their natural appearance made my stomach turn,” Loki said with a dismissive wave of the hand. It was physically impossible for the moment to remember that she was talking about actual world domination attempts with an actual villain. She suspected the sudden increase in hand-sewn spandex, bright plastic armour, and foam weapons in the vicinity was to blame.
“Whatever,” Darcy said. “If you weren’t there to be turned into a giant killer rat or something, your stunts tend to be awesome.” She paused. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s nothing I didn’t already know,” Loki assured her with a catlike smirk. Then he turned back to the cosplayers, who were slowly coming closer. “Look, one of the mes has breasts!”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t have tried to bind those babies either,” Darcy said, grimacing at the thought.
The thought seemed to disturb Loki almost as much. “People do that?”
“Crossplayers do.”
“Sounds like it’s high time I introduced Midgard to my female form. It would be cruel to let my women admirers torture themselves any longer.”
“You have a female form?”
Loki ignored her gleefully. “Look, I’m being swamped by nerds with photo cameras!”
At the same time, the Avengers group caught sight of Darcy and Loki - and more importantly, of Darcy’s costume.
“Hey, there’s another Widow. Black Widow, come join us! We’re having an Avengers shoot outside.”
Loki straightened abruptly. “Darcy, go join them,” he said. “I’ll be back in a moment.” And he marched off in the direction of the men’s rooms.
Only too happily, Darcy complied. One of the Hawkeyes took one look at her costume and devolved into instant gushing, wanted to know all about how she’d made it and what materials she’d used to make it look so lifelike. ‘It’s a closet cosplay,’ Darcy almost bragged. ‘From my BFF’s closet.’ But she wasn’t actually supposed to have Natasha’s hand-me-downs, let alone one her mom had remodelled to accommodate her daughter’s greater bust size and smaller stature, so instead she evaded the question by loudly wondering why there weren’t any Hulks in their group.
That question didn’t get answered either. Because Loki - the real Loki - had returned. Wearing his real armour and helmet.
“Wow,” someone said.
“Wow,” at least five others said in answer.
“Hello to you too,” Loki said, smirking with every fibre of his being.
And then all the cosplayers, from the ‘Thor’ with armour made of tinfoiled cardboard and duct tape to the Captain America whose only flaw was insufficient padding to fill up his amazing costume, were crowded around Loki gushing about his ‘awesome cosplay’.
Darcy hadn’t thought it possible for a single person to exude so much smug satisfaction. It was official. If everyone would just set aside their mortal peril for a minute and gave the guy a standing ovation, Loki’s reign of cracktastic terror would be over.
Which was nice and all, but an hour later they had barely moved an inch and that scenic group photo shoot was looking unlikelier by the minute. It was as if every Avengers and Loki fan in the convention had found their way to them. They just couldn’t get enough of Loki. And Loki just couldn’t get enough of them.
“You’re really getting off on this, aren’t you?” Darcy managed to whisper in his ear during a string of group hug pictures.
“Oh, yes.”
“That’s kind of pathetic, you know. You’re only getting all this attention because they think you’re something you’re not.”
“God of Lies, Miss Lewis,” Loki returned glibly. “Don’t forget it.”
And then the world spun and he had his arm around her waist, dipping her backwards until she had no choice but to squeak indignantly and cling to him. He grinned down at her and raised his voice.
“Any shippers in the room?”
A collective cheer went up.
“Any requests?”
“Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!”
Grin turning positively feral, Loki lowered his voice again so only Darcy could hear. “Any objections?”
Oh, what the hell, Darcy thought, and pulled herself up until she could press her mouth to his. You only do something this crazy once.
Darcy’s Dastardly Dates
Loki takes Darcy hostage and proves to be an excellent holiday date. (Also, alliteration!)
Christmas Crashing
Nobody invites Loki to their Christmas dinners. So Loki invites himself to Darcy’s. // 1480 words
Villainous Valentine
Loki is a bit annoyed with mortal holidays, until Darcy shows him an alternate way of celebrating them: the cosplayer’s way. // 2087 words