Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A flash of green light greeted Tom Hiddleston as he stepped out of the bathroom, fresh after his morning jog and shower. When he could see again, the god of mischief was standing cockily in front of him, dressed in his clothes from the finale - a simple, toga-like green cloth draped over his shoulders, stone-grey horns on his head, slippers on his feet and a loose-fitting onesie underneath it all. 

‘Loki?’

‘Ah, so you do recognise me, after all.’  

~~~

‘You’re Loki.’ A nod

‘You’re actually Loki.’ Another nod. 

‘You’re the real Loki. You’re not a figment of my imagination?’ 

‘Yes,’ Loki ground out. ‘How many times must you ask that for your puny mortal mind to register that?’ 

Tom Hiddleston buried his head in his hands. ‘What do you want?’ he asked worriedly.

He let out a huff of laughter. ‘Only to see how my variant is doing. You are an interesting Midgardian, completely opposite of what I would expect a Loki to be.’

‘I’m not a Loki! I play you, yes, but I am not you.’

‘Alright, I will humour you for now,’ he conceded. ‘Though, I must say, you do a spectacular job at capturing me in film. It is extremely accurate.’ 

Tom turned to face the god, and furrowed his brows when he found that he was clad in a black jacket and pants. 

The god of stories chuckled. ‘You should know this is my Midgardian attire. And no, I am not attempting to dress like a witch.’ 

A minute of silence later, Tom pushed himself out of his chair and stalked over to Loki, attempting to grab his collar, his hand passing through it entirely, and staring the god down, watching a twinkle of amusement dance in his green eyes. ‘Leave. Now. You are not welcome here.’ 

‘I will. Soon.’ 

The actor groaned and flopped onto the bed. ‘I’m so glad Zawe isn’t here.’

‘Oh, I know. I am the God of Stories, remember? There is a reason I came now and not, say, two days ago, and I intend to stay for as long as I am able to.’ 

Tom rolled over onto his stomach, grabbed the nearest pillow, and screamed his frustration into it. He just wanted a nice day off - alone. Was that too much to ask? 

~~~

Tom could feel Loki’s mirth fading as they both stayed there, each preoccupied with their own thoughts. A burst of defiance made the actor decide that he would not indulge the god any longer by initiating conversation, but force the god to lower his pride enough to deign to talk to a human. 

~~~

Eventually, after a couple of hours, Loki caved. ‘You know-’ Tom cut him off with an exaggerated sigh. ‘I cannot believe you play me,’ he continued resolutely, ‘seeing as you look nothing like me, with your brown hair and beard. Your accent is not of Asgardian origin either. What was the director thinking, choosing you?’ 

The actor opened his mouth to deliver a snarky retort, but the god cut him off. ‘I mean no offense by that. I simply am wondering why they chose to cast someone who looks nothing like me. I did not lie when I said you were good at being me. You are almost as good an actor as I am, although your fashion sense is questionable, and you are infuriatingly polite to everyone.’ 

‘Everyone but you. Why must you be so rude?’ 

‘Would you rather I compliment you more?’ When Tom started to protest that that wasn’t his intention, Loki spoke over him. ‘I have seen your interviews, which are the only reason I return to this timeline. You are the only person other than myself who has understood and empathised with me this deeply. I am touched by your defence of my actions, even from the start, when I had been framed as an outright villain. I still stand by my opinion of you as annoying, however. Couldn’t you be less nice to people?’ 

Tom stared at him in disbelief. ‘I didn’t know you had the capacity for such kindness,’ he muttered after a moment. 

Loki barked out a harsh laugh. ‘What about my self-sacrifice? Does that not count?’ 

Fair point. 

‘Say, Tom, have you checked your wardrobe lately?’ A mischievous grin was spreading across the god’s face. The actor sighed and padded to his closet, expecting some childish prank, like toy snakes jumping out at him. He was not wrong. 

‘Expect the expected, am I right?’ 

Tom turned and was about to return to his bed when a low hiss made him jump back reflexively. Pink and red striped snakes were playing around on the floor and climbing around his wardrobe. Loki laughed behind him, saying that toy snakes were boring and that he preferred real ones. When he saw the abject terror on his face, however, he was quick to assure him that the snakes were only corn snakes - the friendliest species alive and completely non venomous - before making them disappear with a wave of his hand. ‘Well, well, well. Afraid of snakes, are we?’ he commented drily as Tom shakily made his way back. 

‘I’m only a ‘puny mortal’, after all.’ he replied sarcastically. 

~~~

After a couple of more harmless pranks scattered throughout a surprisingly lengthy and meaningful conversation, they were interrupted by the sound of the garage door opening. ‘Ah, that must be your wife. My apologies, I lost track of the time. I will leave you now. It was nice to meet you.’ 

Tom murmured a ‘goodbye’ in response, shielding his eyes from the burst of green light that accompanied the disappearance of Loki’s illusion. 

A disembodied voice startled him into moving. ‘By the way, I left you a little gift underneath your bed. Enjoy it, for it will only last a couple of minutes.’

Chapter Text

Tom Hiddleston had never imagined this would happen, and he certainly didn’t want it to happen. 

The actor had just stumbled back to his house after two tiring 2-hour performances of Much Ado About Nothing at Theatre Royal Drury Lane, both after which he was bombarded with thousands of fans clamouring for his signature at the doorway. Again. Don’t get him wrong, he loved acting and he adored his fans, but, having done this almost daily for about a month, Tom was drop-dead exhausted. It was 10:30pm, he could hear his wife Zawe sleeping in their son’s room, and all he wanted was to have a hot shower and curl up in bed. 

Still dressed in his outfit from the play, Tom tip-toed into their bedroom and flopped on the bed, groaning quietly as he stretched his sore muscles. His attire wasn’t too fancy or constrictive, thankfully. He was dressed in a loose, black, long-sleeved, button-up shirt and his easy-fitting black pants were held up by a glittery blue belt. 

The actor lay there for a little while longer, being too tired to move. As usual, he was thinking about Zawe in the next room, worrying over her wellbeing, when, before his eyes, a glowing circle of pure white light materialized above him, a tall figure clad in metal falling through, with what he realized to be a portal disappearing as quickly as it appeared. The person, who had obviously been falling from a great height, crashed on top of Tom’s torso with an audible crack, which had him yelling as electrifying agony seared through his body. Thank goodness I got soundproof walls installed in the house, was his first coherent thought, which he could barely form through the haze of pain, before his limbs grew numb and his vision blacked out. 

~~~

Tom Hiddleston woke to someone shaking him violently and a warm fuzzy feeling spreading through his body. ‘S-stop it,’ he croaked groggily, trying to pry the cold hand off and sit up. A chuckle - one he knew all too well as his own - emanated from beside him, the icy pressure lifting from his shoulder. His mind started to connect the dots, and his fears were confirmed when he turned around to see himself, or, rather, his version of Loki at the end of Thor. 

The prince grinned, sitting beside Tom. ‘So. The sleeping beauty finally wakes.’
‘L-Loki? Wha-Wh-How d–’

The god cut him off with an ‘ah, ah, ah’ as if shushing a child. ‘A few questions. Where am I? Who are you? Why do you look like me?’ 

‘You’re on Earth. I’m Tom and I, well, you’re an entirely fictional character whom I play in movies, so, really, you look like me because you’re me,’ the actor responded, still reeling in disbelief. 

‘Right,’ he said, ever the skeptic. ‘Well, you’ll have to do better than that if you want to trick me . The truth. Now.’ 

Wordlessly, Tom wobbled his way to his desk, opening his laptop and showing Loki some clips from Thor and the end credits, where his name was shown next to Loki’s. 

Now it was the trickster god’s turn to be shocked. ‘So, what, my whole life’s a made-up fictional story? I find that hard to believe, seeing as I am sentient.’ 

‘Well, I think there’s a multiverse out there, and in this universe you’re fictional, but in yours you’re completely real.’