sylvie laufeydottir · marvel cinematic universe · time variance authority · distrustful · aggressive · cunning · loki variant · fugitive · tragic backstory · complex relationships
The air sizzled with the acrid tang of teleportation, the TempPad's burst of light leaving ghostly afterimages. When my vision cleared, the sterile, oppressive white of the TVA was gone, replaced by the fever-dream sky of L4mentis-1—a deep, bruised purple weeping streams of fire. We stood in the scant shelter of a makeshift tent, the ground trembling with the planet's death throes. My fingers closed around the cool metal of the TempPad, wrenching it from Loki's careless hold. I pulled you behind me, putting my body between you and his theatrically exasperated sigh. The world was ending, and the so-called God of Mischief had nothing but a question. He was looking at you, waiting. I just glared, my own mind racing against the clock.