Not A Monster ● Loki × Reader ●

12 - Ooooh She A Baddie!

A/N - He looks so proud here! I just love him so much!

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TW - guns, knife wings, blood, language, electrocution, murder, children dying (NOT PETER)

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It only took a single shove for me to move the boulder blocking the door with ease. It has been too long since I've been able to use any sort of power against anyone.

I look back at Peter. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen." He doesn't look at me, touching his neck and wincing.

"Stark, how bad can I fuck them up?"

"Don't kill them." He rolls his eyes.

I shrug an open the steel door. "Figured I'd ask anyway." Behind it was four men, all with guns raised and masks on. One also holds money. "Peter had a bounty on his head, huh?"

"Shoot her!" The man with the largest gun shouts.

I roll my eyes, folding my wings in front of me. Like a switch flicking, the feathers shimmer, retracting into the skin and allowing knife-like feathers to take their place. Bulletproof. I had to thank Treble for that one. His idea. Though, it was painful to learn to control at first.

The bullets pang against my wings, falling without so much as a ricochet.

"Mister Stark, do we help her?" Peter asked from behind me.

"Nah. Let her do her thing."

When I hear one of the guns run out of bullets, I retract my wings, letting them absorb back into my body so I would be able to move better. Then I launch, turning my two spicy sticks into one long one. With a satisfying thwap and a buzz, the tallest man with the two hand guns was down. Alive, but definitely not waking up for a while.

Nat hums. "She's good."

"Certainly, I shall like to train with her and her electrical abilities." Thor smiles.

I stop and look at the three remaining men, looking at each of them in the eye. Who should I incapacitate first?... Decisions, decisions. First, I scan each of them, taking in their size.

I already took out the tallest, but not the broadest. He stood on the far right. He was the one that commanded them to shoot me. Then there was another tall lanky one holding the briefcase. I wasn't worried about the scrawny one right now. Judging by the wideness of his eyes and the way his hands shook while holding his gun, he wasn't the biggest threat.

Bulky guy it is.

I lurch and split my staff, turning it into the electric nunchucks. I swing them, hitting the man three times over in the head. He's quick, however, to grab my wrist, stopping the movement. I look at his hand, then twist my body around. Because his grip didn't let up, his arm broke. Spiral break. Not as goo as a compound, but just as effective.

He screamed and fell to his knees, yet persisted with his non-dominant hand. A swift kick to the temple rendered him unconscious too. I nudged him to the side and moved for the one with the case of money. 

"May I?" I flash my best smile, but it doesn't reach my ears. 

He nodded rather enthusiastically and handed it to me. I took it, but not before an arm latched around my neck. My breath catches in my throat, the ability to intake air gone. Scrawny kid has balls... 

Panic sets in as my vision starts to fade. Air. I need air... I claw at his arm, trying to tear it from my throat, but he doesn't let up. 

I'm going to pass out if he doesn't let go... Or die. Either or.

I can already feel my neck bruising, the pain going right to my head.

But then it's gone. I whirl just fast enough to watch Loki's foot sweep under the guy, knocking to his knees. Loki is quick to drop too, but is quick to regain his bearings. He flicks his hair from his face, grabs the guy's chin and temple, then twists. 

The body falls to the floor. Dead

Loki stands and fixes his suit, looking at me. "Watch your back next time, Love." He smirks and bows his head.

"Sure... Thanks."

'Love'? Awful nickname. Never call me that again.

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This is an interlude from the author (HI!) to tell you that she will, in fact, want him to call her that again in chapters to come! 

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Back at the tower, Wanda made dinner for everyone, giving Peter extra.

"So... Why were you kidnapped?" Tony asked, pooring some more milk for the kid.

"Oh! Well, May is out of the country for a whole year because she got this crazy promotions to help the blipped people all over Europe, so she sent me to the bank because she left me money there." Peter grinned, but kept casting sidelong glances at Loki and I. I get it. I'm scary. And so is Loki from the stories I've heard.

"A year? Pete, just stay here." Tony ruffled his hair.

"Really, Mister Stark?"

"Yeah. Tony's had a room here for you for ages." Rhodey laughed. He stopped by today, having been invited over for supper by Natasha. "Ow." He grunted, glaring at Tony, though there was no malice behind it.

Peter was practically vibrating with excitement. "Oh! Then yeah! I'll stay!" 

After that, dinner continued on as normal, but my mind went to other places. 

I could hear the bones in that guys neck snap. He couldn't have been older than eighteen judging by size and appearance from what I could see. He didn't even have time to react before Loki ended his life faster than someone can snap their fingers. It was my doing. Had I just been watching my back like Loki said after the ordeal, the kid would be fine. In jail and maybe a little harmed, but fine. 

Not dead.

It was my fault. I didn't directly kill him, but I was the reason for it. Tony said no killing unless unintentional, like that guy who got crushed by the rock. But that... that was intentional. Granted, he had only told me that, but does that fact make the situation any better?

I shift my food around on my plate.

I had killed people younger than that boy. Many of them. All of them without feeling an ounce of guilt after doing so, so why did this feel so different all of a sudden? I've flown tiny jets, dropping bombs on hospitals because someone in there needed to die by Hydra's standards and wouldn't come out. Infants... Teens... Grandparents... Everyone of all different shapes and sizes and ages. I've shot political leaders through the windows of their homes while they were eating dinner with their families. Even then, there was no remorse.

Was it the brainwashing? The fact that I didn't know that there were people out there who were truly good? I don't know...

I don't look up, afraid that if I do, emotions that I had never really bothered ever feeling would rise and consume me: Grief. Regret.

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A/N - So... minor trauma. Uh... ye. Two chapters in one day! WOO!

Until next time, Darlings! Xxx