So ALIMoM now has (or is starting to have) a Chinese translation, care of almalee!
That’s a really big, difficult project, and I’m totally humbled that someone would even want to start it. /dies
But, you know, it rained all day. Didn’t that mess with your big plan?
You know it’s irrational to blame your brother, but the thought comes all the same. Standing at your bedroom window, hand pressed against the glass, teeth grinding in your throat.
You had everything planned. The book, the flowers, the band. The song. A picnic in the park. A carriage ride, a luxurious hotel. A private dinner. Everything.
Ruined, all of it.
One year ago today, you held strong hands in yours and swore yourself to be a husband. One year, and today should be a day of celebration. Of bright skies and laughter. Of burning sun and brilliant passions.
Not of thunder. Of storms.
Somewhere deep within, you feel the edge of violence cut its path.
“Happy anniversary, husband.”
Warm arms wrap around your waist, warm lips kiss against your throat.
You close your eyes, lean back against a lean and slender frame. “Yes,” you hiss, your breath caught somewhere below your heart.
“It’s been one year,” your wife whispers, breath hot against your ear.
“A good year,” you say.
“A great year,” she corrects. “Now. Let me reward you as I should.”
You are not the only one with plans, it seems.
“Hey, um. You wouldn’t know where West Hall is, would you?”
Sigyn looks down. A boy is speaking to her, all dark eyes and bright smile beneath a knitted hat. He looks at her, then at the map she clutches in her hand.
“I believe it this way,” she says. “I must go there also.”
“Awesome,” says the boy. “Mind if I tag along?”
“As you wish,” Sigyn says, and tells herself it is not nerves that stir within her gut. She is a warrior of Asgard. She has laid low the Allfather himself, has caught the frozen bitter heart of his lost and wicked Prince. Has remade herself in her own image and clawed a new place for herself amongst the mortals.
The first day of school should not cause her fear. She will not allow it.
“I am Sigyn of Asgard,” she says instead, holding out her hand in the way of mortals.
The boy looks at it, blinking. Sigyn has one moment to think she has misjudged, before he laughs, and takes it in his own. It is a kind laugh, Sigyn thinks.
“Wayne,” the boy says. “Wayne of Missouri.” Then, “Asgard. Man. Today is gonna be awesome!” And he smiles. And it is.
And it’s our last giftfic for ALIMoM anniversary month, hooray!
This one is for whitestuffknowslimits, who wanted: “How about Loki getting out of control over something and only Sigyn noticing it? It takes a good ol’ pouding to get Loki to calm down. Sorry, but Sigyn taking Loki is just too hot. YOU DID THIS TO MEEEE”
Um… I don’t know that we managed the “out of control” part, but… I hope the rest is okay?
(Writing smut is so difficult! Guuh. I don’t know how to do it at all, so… IDK. Maybe it works? /dies)
And, auurgh. I tried but… aurgh! I am so out of practice with the ALIMoM 2POV and the Small Things voice kept creeping in and—
Guh. Um. I hope it’s okay?
Anyway, because this is ALIMoM, have a song.
r3zuri replied to your link: Tell me about a story I haven’t written, and I’ll give you a sentence from that story.
The one where Jane dies and becomes the Tesseract, plz.
“Oh. Oh… shit.”
Jane tries to stand and gets halfway before she falters. You catch her before she can fall into the dirt and the fast-cooling pool of her own— her old blood. Things being as they are, Thor’s reaction is the same, and you each end up holding one of Jane’s new arms. Her new skin is cool beneath your fingers, humming with all the potential of time itself.
“Wow,” she says. “Wow, a bit— Okay. Legs. I know how these wor—” She’s halfway through straightening when she falters. “Holy— holy shit I can see forever.”
“Jane?” Thor, being as he is, sounds concerned. You know better.
“I can see— All of time,” Jane is saying, voice far away and strange. “I can— how?”
You smirk. “You are no longer trapped within your mortal shell, Jane Foster,” you say. “And are thus no longer bound by—”
“—‘by mortal rules’,” Jane finishes for you. “I knew you were going to say that. Because you already did. You are say— oh, god. I can see you. Loki.” Her hand grabs at yours, and her grip is almost painful. She is strong, now. Much stronger than she knows. “Loki, I see you. When you first arrived on Earth. I was there.”
“Yes,” you say.
Jane’s expression turns from reverence into… something else. “You need a shower. Like, stat. You look awful. And when was the last time you slep— oh, god. Don’t kill people. Loki! Oh. Oh— I can’t. Loki, I can’t—”
“Jane.” Thor’s voice is anxious, and he has time to give you one vicious look before he turns to shake Jane gently. “Jane. Be with us. Here. Those other things are past. Pay mind only to the present.”
Poor, poor idiot Thor. For Jane is in the present. There is only present, to a thing which all of time is but another road to walk.
“There’s so much pain,” she says, legs crumbling as the tears roll down her cheeks.
“I know,” you say.
“I can’t stop it. I can’t stop any of it.”
“Ah,” you say, not quite laughing. “Look closer, and you will see this is a lie.” And you hold her while she cries.
… aa-aa-and that’s it! Holy shit. We’re done. That’s… that’s the end of ALIMoM. We made it, you guys! We made it hooray!
Thank you so much to everyone who’s been reading, reccing, commenting on, and giving kudos to this series. You guys are wonderful and you’re the reason this went from a 1k joke fic to a 170k-ish word epic.