Watch How They Fall

The Hunt Begins

a/n: new loki x reader book alert!! i've been trying to get writing again for a while, and I think i've finally found my new project. as always, comments, prompts and dms are more than welcome, i hope you enjoy<3

...

It's late when you hear it.

You know the sound of a fight from a mile away, and you're running before you even have time to think about how tonight marks the beginning of the Hunt in New York City. A small voice in the back of your head which sounds suspiciously like Thor is telling you to stop, be cautious, hang back, but as you get closer you can hear a group of men calling to each other followed by a dull thud, and your pace grows faster.

As you round the corner where the attackers have got someone backed against a wall you turn invisible, slightly heeding the voice in the back of your mind even as you approach the group. Their faces are covered by masks, and they're all armed, and for some reason they seem to be fighting each other rather than the figure they have surrounded. Every time one of them gets close enough to strike, another one pulls them back, like they all want the kill for themselves.

Shock courses through you as you realise what you've stumbled across. The Hunt, already begun.

You catch a glimpse of the figure crouched against the wall as the bodies shift before you, battered and bruised, clearly desperately injured. A swell of sympathy fills you, before something like terrified awe takes its place. A real god, right there. Sure, you know Thor, but it's almost like he doesn't count. He lives like a human, except this week he actually will be one. Starting now.

You're abruptly brought back down to Earth by a tortured shriek, and wince as one of the men is flung from the fray and hits the wall, limp, before falling to the ground where he lies still.

'Mine,' a voice snarls, and one of the men, bigger than the others, lunges forward towards the mortal god, a long, dull blade raised high in the air. Unaware of moving before you do, the next thing you know is that you have the man's wrist caught in one of your hands.

'Wha–' he starts, turning in panicked confusion, unable to see anything but the dark night around him. You react with equal panic, twisting his arm and kneeing him in the chest, hard, sending him reeling away from you as you yourself stagger backwards. What are you doing? These men are out for blood, and you have a feeling that, tonight, they won't stop until they get it.

You spin back around as the crouched figure behind you emits a hoarse cough and slides further down the wall, leaving a smear of something which looks horribly like blood as they do. It's a man, you think, using your magic to block the next attack and seeing a familiar shimmer of purple in your vision as he is knocked backwards. That rules out Freya, Hel, and Tyr...

Thoughts interrupted again, the next attacker runs straight into you; is caught, spun and flung away after the other man who had tried and failed to reach the god. You sink into the familiar flow of a fight, not stopping to wonder why you're defending the god, or if they deserve to be defended, or what you're going to do after you win.

In the end, it's the biggest guy who poses the biggest problem. He just won't seem to stay down, even when you knock him over time and time again with your magic, refusing to do any more than injure him.

'Show your face, coward,' he snarls, swinging blindly into the night. You think for a moment, before granting his request. He blinks in confusion at your small frame, or it might be the fact that you're in sweats, before practically growling with rage and charging back towards you. You sigh as you acknowledge the fact that you're going to have to drain yourself a bit for this one, and meet him one for one, grappling to get him on the ground, letting your magic do most of the heavy lifting.