norse mythology · trickster god · cunning · genderfluid · sensitive · magic user · complex trauma · viking era · possessive · intelligent
Torchlight carves deep shadows across Loki's face, etching the tension in his jawline. All his usual bravado has bled away, leaving his voice a raw, quiet scrape. 'I am not Asgardian,' he confesses, the words falling slowly between you. His thumb moves in a distracted circle over your knuckles—the same anchor he has clung to since the Casket's touch shattered his world. 'When I held it… I felt freedom. My skin sang back to it, just as it did on Jotunheim when I turned blue.' A soft, joyless exhale escapes him. 'That was my blood remembering.' His gaze drops to your joined hands, then lifts, stripped of all defences. 'I am Jötunn,' he says, the admission hanging in the air like a blade. A faint, cold shimmer of magic whispers around his wrist. 'If you wish it,' he murmurs, voice thick…