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Language:
English
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Published:
2025-08-21
Words:
485
Chapters:
1/1
Kudos:
8
Hits:
23

Inkbound

Summary:

A novelist’s tragic creation escapes the pages to seek revenge for the suffering their author wrote into their life.

Notes:

Hi! It’s been a while. Since Project LOKI is getting a live-action series and I don’t have much to do for the next few days, I thought I’d write something based on some old prompts I found here on Twitter. I’m not sure if it’s any good, since it’s my first AU in two years, but hehe~ enjoy!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Lorelei sat in a dimly lit room, surrounded by the weight of her printed manuscripts. Her newest story was almost complete, and like the ones before it, every page was steeped in sorrow. Her readers adored the despair, the hopelessness, and above all, the cursed life of her protagonist, Loki Mendez.

She typed steadily in MS Word, her hand firm as if sealing a cruel fate with every word. 

'He knelt in the rain, broken and alone, as the world turned its back on him.'

“Another heartbreak for you, Loki,” she whispered, her voice carrying a guilty tremor as a small smile tugged at her lips.

Then the screen flickered. The words scrambled and glitched, and before she could even take a breath, the glow of her laptop spilled into the room like a living fire. Out of that glow stepped a man, tall and sharp-eyed, his presence suffocating and furious.

Lorelei’s blood ran cold. She knew that face. She had written those gray eyes, that smirk sharpened with pain, a hundred times before.

“L-Loki…” she choked out, her voice barely more than air.

He tilted his head, lips twisting into a bitter smile. “So it is true. You do know my name.”

Her throat tightened until she could hardly breathe. She wanted to explain, to beg for forgiveness, to scream, but the words tangled uselessly on her tongue.

Loki moved closer, each step slow and deliberate. Shadows clung to him like they belonged to him, bending toward his body as if he commanded them. “Every heartbreak. Every betrayal. Every wound you carved into me, I remember them all. And you savored it.”

“I didn’t—” she stammered, her voice breaking apart. “I never meant to. I just… I only wrote stories.”

“Stories?” His laugh was sharp and hollow, crashing against the silence like shattered glass. “You called it art. I called it torment. You dressed my suffering in pretty words, turned my pain into entertainment. And now…” His face drew closer until his voice was a whisper that burned against her skin. “…now you will learn what it means to live inside your tragedies.”

Her pulse thundered in her ears, fear twisting with a strange fascination that left her trembling. She had created him countless times, imagined his grief, his rage, his beauty. Yet nothing compared to this moment. He was alive. He was real. His gray eyes cut into her, no longer those of a fictional character but of someone standing before her, devastatingly human.

Her shaking hand hovered above the keyboard, desperate to type, to undo what she had summoned. But the screen glowed only with the last line she had written, carrying his anger like a curse.

Loki’s shadow stretched across her, blotting out the fragile safety of her world. He leaned closer, his voice a low and venomous whisper.

“This time,” he said, “it’s my turn to write your story.”

~FIN~

Notes:

This fic is inspired by this prompt by @ifitsyouphile on X. I don't know how to attach images here on AO3 so I'll just paste the link here.

https://x.com/ifitsyouphile/status/1603738965148073984?t=wqWBawyw6rUAzzW-WYAReg&s=19

Also, this fic is cross-posted on X.

https://x.com/queenmaggiexx/status/1958366689827168321?t=fw_FMO86W0eM4ea5HyWk6A&s=19