Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The rain pounded violently against the windowpanes, showing no mercy.
Throughout the entire day, the clouds had covered the sky with relentless determination, with no intention of revealing any of their beauty. Their darkness had fused with the jet-black hue of the night, though the occasional lightning bolt would burst forth with fury to challenge it.

Someone might have thought that such rage from the sky was a projection of Zeus’s foul mood, a manifestation of Thor’s wrath, or the frenzy of Indra in the midst of hand-to-hand combat. But whether any of those suppositions were true or not, it wasn’t possible to know. Not yet.
And while some in the surroundings rushed to take shelter in their cozy homes, out of fear or cold, there was someone else who, instead, had gracefully embraced the darkness that enveloped all of Valhalla.

Loki, his body cloaked in a dark cape and his face hidden beneath the hood, walked with measured steps through the long corridors. No one stood in his path, and the eccentric doors he passed without paying them the slightest attention were all closed. Even the strangest of all, a cell sealed with chains and a large lock, failed to spark his interest.

Among them all, the door he longed to find was the simplest and humblest: it wasn’t small, but it was extremely sturdy, and the wild pinewood it was made from gave it a dark reddish tone.
It was wood from the cold lands of Finland, the remains of a tree that had once stood proudly among snowy forests and gunfire. Beneath his fingertips, its surface felt like a familiar caress, filled with nostalgia. He brushed it gently a couple of times before clenching his fist and knocking with his knuckles.

On the other side, after a few seconds that felt eternal, no footsteps or voices could be heard, only the sound of a key turning and the creak of the handle lowering.
And Loki, not waiting a second longer, launched himself into the room.

-Lo—!-

Pulling down his balaclava to devour his lips had become a familiar, natural gesture, just like the attentive movement of his thumb, which lovingly brushed the scar that disfigured the jawline of the face he loved so deeply.

But the god was not the only one letting himself be carried away by passion.

Simo, though taken by surprise, quickly adapted to Loki’s lustful assault, his tongue just as urgently joining in the dance of desire they had both suppressed for days.

With an instinctive gesture, Loki dragged them both toward the Finn’s bed. Only when Simo’s back touched the warm blankets did Loki pull away, just enough to catch his breath and admire the faint blush on his cheeks.

-You’re wonderful.- he whispered, his heart pounding with love, unable to repress the feelings he longed to make real on that cold, rainy night.

-Is that all you have to say?- Simo asked with a reproachful tone, his chest rising and falling faster than usual.
His dark eyes, usually warm and full of affection whenever they met Loki’s violet ones, now sparkled with a hint of disapproval. It wasn’t anger, but it was enough for Loki to realize how hurt Simo had been during his absence.

-Don’t look at me like that.- Loki murmured just inches from his lips, ready to claim them again at any moment: -You have no idea how much I hated being away from you.-

-You disappeared for days without telling me anything.- Simo’s gaze hardened: -To help with the extermination of humanity.-

-Mmh…- Loki shifted his lips to Simo’s right cheek, kissing it slowly, reverently: -You’re angry.-

-I am.-

-But the love you feel is stronger than the anger. That’s why you’re beneath me, cheeks flushed, eyes chained to mine.-

-Loki.-

-I know, I know. I should shut up before I make it worse.- Loki lost himself in the sight of him. He was beautiful even when angry, but even more so when calm, when he smiled: -Forgi—!-

It was impossible for Loki to hide his surprise: Simo had flipped their positions, now straddling him, fully in control.

-You talk too much.- he said sincerely, without malice. And Loki couldn’t argue, because Simo’s lips were on his again.
With trembling fingers and a heart racing wildly, he clung tightly to his back, overcome by the uncontrollable desire to finally strip off that uniform.

Between sighs of pleasure and the sound of their tongues meeting and greedily colliding, the clothes and the few remnants of fabric fell hastily to the floor.

-Simo...- Loki sighed his name with an urgency that was driving him crazy. He wanted to take control, to kiss every inch of that perfect, war-scarred skin, but Simo had taken over: he was restrained, calculating, and gave him no respite. An unspoken punishment for having made him wait so long.

The God of Deception shuddered at the warm touch of Simo's hands caressing him, and he, in turn, found himself running his hands over his body, starting with his chest, descending over his muscles, tracing them, idly wondering how on earth he had been able to live centuries and millennia without delighting in such a handsome and perfect being.

His fingers also traced the features of his face, unhurriedly, lingering on the deep scar that crossed Simo's jaw. He caressed it gently, finding it as wonderful as he was, as his dark eyes that shone with tenderness and deep affection at receiving that gesture.

Loki wanted to scream at him that there was nothing wrong with him, that he could never stop loving him in his entire being, but his lips were busy, and the little bit of rationality he had left was too focused on not giving up completely.

And meeting Simo's eyes again, after their reddened lips parted and their tongues remained joined by a thin thread of saliva, was the point of no return.

His right hand lowered onto his erection and gripped it urgently, rising and falling under his own moans, destined to become louder and more obscene.
It was incredible how that cold, clear gaze lowered his defenses and pushed him to expose himself so much, to encourage him to cum in a few minutes.
He wanted to feel Simo inside him, to fuck him without qualms, but he would have settled for that, damn it.

Anything to have those eyes, eat him alive. Anything to have Simo forever.

Loki felt a long shudder of pleasure ripple from his lower abdomen, and, arching his back and neck backward, he felt that he was close to reaching the peak of orgasm. But the movements of his hand, increasingly swift and precise, were interrupted by a grip on his wrist that made him moan in disappointment.

-Don't rush it.- Simo's gaze softened: -Or I won't be able to love you properly.-

Normally, he would have jealously guarded this further proof of Simo's purity of love, but there was no room for romance. Carnal pleasure was all he needed now.

-And... and then... what are you waiting for?- struggling to speak, feeling his erection throb furiously, Loki spread his legs: -Make me yours and don't you dare stop.-

Seeing the frustration in Loki's eyes, Simo positioned himself to enter him. He saw Loki tense, moaning even more as he felt the tip of his penis near his entrance. And seeing Loki, his cheeks flushed, his breathing ragged, and his eyelids fluttering with arousal, was what drove him to rush forward and claim him with a rough thrust.

Loki had never given him permission to think, after all. He had burst into his life like a slithering snake, laden with demands that eventually warmed his heart.

And Simo had loved him from the first moment. He possessed him with the same love and passion as their first night together.
He had lived a long life, he had been granted the luxury of becoming a living legend, but he had always considered himself wrong, unworthy of praise and love, convinced that he deserved a gruesome death for the 542 people he had killed.
And yet, Loki had changed everything. He had driven him to be demanding, to give himself courage.

And seeing him moan his name over and over again as he moved inside him made him feel immense gratitude.

-S-Simo... damn it...!- with a grunt, Loki began to move his stomach to accommodate his erection deeper. His nails dug into the possessed sniper's back.
Even when he was vulnerable, he didn't hesitate to mark him. He didn't hesitate to make it clear how much he wanted and loved him.

Simo still didn't understand how he had managed to attract the attention of a god. He wondered what he had done so sublimely to deserve to be embraced by him.
He had taken so many people's lives. He was a murderer, not a soldier.
He didn't deserve to be loved. Not with that intensity. However, Loki's selfishness, in its most unbridled passion, prevailed. It drove him to demand to be happy, for once.

-S-Simo—ah!-

And he wanted those perfect lips to never stop speaking his name.

He didn't know how much time had passed, but he was sure they had both reached their limits.
Loki did nothing but moan, murmur how much he loved him and that he was his alone, and it gave him pleasure. A pleasure that shot from his stomach to his head, driving him to move faster, to never be satisfied.
The words died in his throat; it was the moans that left his throat, it was his lips that refused to speak, too busy leaning forward to run bites and kisses down the god's neck. It was her scent that brought him to ecstasy, making him forget what it meant to constantly cling to the present to avoid facing the sins of the past.

Loki, by his mere existence, allowed him to be there. Serene, and finally free.

-L-Loki...-

A moan, deeper than the others, crashed against the hollow of Loki's neck, and it was that expression of pure pleasure that made them come together.

Simo remained on top of Loki for a while, panting, his arm resting on the sheets to support himself and keep from collapsing against him. He moved away from him with foresight, but that wasn't enough to stop the moans that once again made them shudder. The desire to be reunited was so great that this sudden distance was an agonizing torture.
Loki's cum stained his belly, but he paid no attention to it; seeing him underneath, his hair disheveled and his lips red from numerous kisses, satisfied and loved, was a sight too beautiful to ignore.

-We were... too fast.- Loki complained, grabbing Simo by the arms and pulling him towards him to hug him and feel his warmth.

-It's your fault. You were impatient.-

-And you're going to blame me for that? You're beautiful and irresistible.- his whisper was lost in Simo's hair, and his hand sank into his to pull him even closer, making their bodies fit together perfectly.

Simo closed his eyes, clearly hearing the rhythm of Loki’s heart beating at the same pace as his own. Falling asleep there, in Loki’s arms, would have been wonderful, but he wouldn’t allow himself to do so. Not when every fiber of his being screamed to possess Loki again and again, until exhaustion.

-I haven’t forgiven you yet.- and yet, resting his head against Loki’s chest and letting himself be lazily embraced suggested otherwise.

-I didn’t want to make you angry, or worry you.- no clever comebacks, no sarcastic remarks, just a transparent truth: -Ragnarök will begin in a few days, and Odin is uneasy. Apparently, Zeus is choosing the names of the gods who will take part, and I’m involved.-

-Involved? They want you to fight?-

-I don’t know, and I don’t care.-

-Well, I do.- Simo replied in a firm voice, opening his eyes and climbing back on top of Loki: -This is a deadly tournament. If you die, your soul will never return.-

-My sniper has done his research!-

-Don’t joke.-

-I’m not joking. I’m stating facts.- Loki smiled at the worry growing more visible on Simo’s face. He found his furrowed brow adorable, it gave him a genuinely concerned look: -Even if they force me to take part, there’s nothing to fear. Our opponents are human. They can’t hurt us.-

-I’m human too.- Simo reminded him, annoyed.

Loki laughed: -But no one has a talent like yours. Besides, there’s nothing they can do. Without divine weapons, they’re mice in a trap.-

Gods could not be harmed by simple human weapons, considered imperfect.
Simo had learned that firsthand when, walking alone one day, he overheard two nymphs who, after targeting him as prey, murmured that carrying that rifle was just for show. Against a god, any attack would bounce off, and the weapon would be reduced to pitiful dust.

He’d asked Loki for clarification, and the god had confirmed that the gossip from those capricious nymphs wasn’t entirely wrong.
And instead of feeling disappointed at how useless his rifle had partly become, Simo had felt an immense sense of relief.

Humans could still be wounded by his shots. Those he’d killed in life would not come back asking for explanations or forgiveness. He could still be hated, avoided.
But at least he could no longer hurt anyone else.
He could be close to a god without fearing he might someday kill him.
And that brought him some comfort.

-Don’t be like that. I didn’t mean to insult you.-

-Mh?-

Simo looked up at Loki, realizing the concern weighing on him. He’d stayed silent for too long, probably furrowing his brow and making the god think he was angry with him.

-No, you’re wrong. I wasn’t…-

-You will be forgiven.-

Simo looked at him, confused, but instead of asking a question, he waited.

-You’re mine and no one else’s. Humanity will be wiped out, but you’ll stay by my side. I’ll speak with Odin and force him to listen. Nothing will separate us. Not him, not Ragnarök.-

-Loki…- Simo sighed as Loki tightened his arms around him in an iron embrace: -This is about my people. I can’t ignore something as grave as the annihilation of all humanity.-

Loki’s silence filled the room with a tension that contrasted with the scent of sex and the closeness of their bodies.
Using his arms, Simo sat up, breaking free from Loki’s embrace and staring at him. Beads of sweat glistened on his skin, and the lust in his eyes hadn’t disappeared, but he wasn’t smiling.
And that was never a good sign.
He wasn’t silent out of anger or stubbornness, but because of the vast, swirling thoughts that plagued him, ones that might lead him to conclusions far from reality.

Changing the subject wouldn’t help much. Better to get it over with now and argue about it in the morning.

-Don’t underestimate your opponents. Or it will be fatal.-

Loki sat up too, keeping his gaze locked on Simo’s: -You speak as if I’m the only god doing wrong.-

-You’re not indifferent to me.- Simo clarified: -And I don’t want you to take all of this lightly.-

-Are you worried about me?-

There it was again, Loki’s mischievous smile, ready to pull him into a sinful, dangerous direction.
He was Simo’s curse, the one weapon he had no defense against.
He loved him too much to even consider resisting.

-No.-

Loki chuckled, moving in for the kill and sitting in front of him, pushing him back with a swift hand.

-That “no” didn’t sound very convincing~.-

Simo felt overwhelmed, watching Loki straddle his abdomen, mere inches from his erection.
He wanted him again. He hadn’t yet tired of being taken by his human.

-Say it again, this time while you’re making me scream with pleasure, just how you like it.-

Simo’s cheeks regained the rosy tone they had before: -You’ll have to answer for this later.-

-That’s a risk I’m willing to take.- Loki licked his lips hungrily, lust surging through him: -Come on, claim me, Simo. I’m waiting.-

And without wasting another second, with one fluid motion of his hips, Simo entered him once again.

{I don’t want to fill this diary with names besides Brunhilde’s, but… Simo Häyhä… just thinking of that human makes my heart beat uncontrollably.
What is happening to me?}

-Loki cares about you deeply, and he can’t stand being away from you. You shouldn’t let yourself be carried away by useless worries. They don’t do you any good.-

The valkyrie’s voice was warm like the rays of sunlight illuminating the leafy area where they had sat down for tea, a small park full of flowers and swallows flitting from one tree to another. Radgridr’s hands gently touched the basket she had brought with her, full of small portions of food to snack on. The picnic blanket, pink and white, like her hair, kept them comfortable and might have tempted them to lie back and enjoy the pleasant daylight, perhaps closing their eyes for a midday rest. Not far from them, Kille darted excitedly after a blue butterfly, barking insistently when the elegant insect landed on his nose.
The harmony of the natural sounds reigned in the atmosphere, and the gentle breeze caressed them as if wishing them good fortune. Everything about that quiet conversation was comforting.

-It’s not Loki I’m worried about.- Simo replied: -It’s those who would see our relationship as an abomination.-

-You mean Odin?-

With a sigh, Simo left no room for doubt.

The god who headed the Norse pantheon was reserved and immensely powerful, not given to conversation and reluctant to accept the unexpected. And Simo, as a man who had stormed into the chaotic life of Loki, was certainly unexpected.

-He only likes his ravens.- Radgridr laughed gracefully: -Other than that, I’m afraid he’s never formed deep bonds, not even with Thor and Loki. Not the kind that would make him take an interest in their love life. So don’t stress yourself. Enjoy your love story. You’re a wonderful person, Simo, and you deserve the best this life has to offer.- then, just before taking a sip of her tea, Radgridr paused in thought: -Or maybe I should say… this second life?-

Simo held back a soft laugh.
He let his gloveless, calloused fingers caress the smooth surface of the teacup and allowed his balaclava to slip down to his neck, revealing the scar both Loki and Radgridr had come to know so well. Placing his lips on the rim of the cup to take a sip brought him a rediscovered sense of comfort, and his mouth was soon filled with the fresh, aromatic taste of jasmine tea, so carefully prepared by his dear friend.

-It’s delicious.-

Radgridr smiled: -There’s still plenty left. Enough for two more people.- she brought a hand to her cheek, tucking a rebellious strand of hair behind her ear: -I’m sad Loki couldn’t join us.-

-He couldn’t. He was… indisposed.-

Loki’s excuse had been vague: he had to attend a very important meeting and if he skipped it, Odin wouldn’t forgive him. But since when did he care about upsetting his uncle? And since when did he prefer meetings over spending peaceful hours with him? Usually, he came up with a thousand excuses just to stay close. That sudden sense of duty didn’t sound convincing.

-Oh dear. Now I understand. That sadness in your eyes… it’s because of that. You’re afraid Loki got himself into trouble just to love and appreciate you.-

Simo’s eyes widened in disbelief. He didn’t think his unease was so obvious.

-…I don’t want him to be punished.-

Radgridr squinted gently, full of understanding. Mentioning Odin hadn’t been a subtle suggestion, Simo was blaming himself, believing Loki could lose credibility and standing because of him. He underestimated himself, thinking he was the root cause of Loki’s future troubles.

-Oh, Simo…- placing her teacup carefully on the saucer, she set it next to the basket to take both of Simo’s hands in hers: -There must be another reason for his absence. Perhaps something to do with Ragnarok. Unfortunately, since Brunhilde’s announcement, Valhalla has been plunged into chaos.-

And rationally, he knew that too. But he had long since grown used to that chaos, to that contagious laughter, to Loki’s constant impulse to prank everyone just to make him smile.
Being away from the one who made him feel whole was becoming intolerable.

-You’re Simo Häyhä. The sniper who caught Brunhilde’s attention.-

He had thought he’d shot a deer, but to his surprise, it spoke. Even more shocking was watching the bullet bounce off its skin as if it were made of rubber.

-Yes. That’s me.-

He figured talking animals were probably normal in an afterlife full of gods and creatures of all kinds. But he changed his mind when he saw the deer twist and shift into a beautiful, androgynous humanoid being who, with a grimace, looked him up and down.

-I wonder what she sees in you.-

With his head tilted in confusion, it took him a few seconds to ask: -And who’s Brunhilde?-

Loki’s face was priceless. His astonishment was so apparent that he stood there, mouth agape, hands on his hips, his usual arrogance forgotten amid a storm of unspoken thoughts.

-You mean to tell me you’ve never spoken to her?-

-Yes.- Simo narrowed his eyes patiently and put away his rifle: -Or I would’ve mentioned it.-

And from that moment, a change began that would shake their lives.

He didn’t know why, but Loki had focused on him. Like he’d been stung by a bee, the god turned away to hide his face and left, muttering something unintelligible.
Their following encounters were just as strange: Loki visited him, stared at him, asked personal questions, made jokes to involve him. And instead of mentioning Brunhilde again, he talked about other gods who’d fallen victim to his mischief. And Simo listened - patiently, with interest - trying to understand why a god would be so fixated on him, wanting to be by his side.
The smile Loki gave him after one of his funniest stories changed everything further.

Simo found himself drawn in, cherishing Loki in his daily life with a kind of admiration he never thought himself capable of.
And finally, carried away by the current of emotions stirring in his chest, he realized he was in love.

He felt it was wrong, believed he didn’t deserve to feel something so pure.
But Loki was there for him. He made him feel good. And all the worries faded away.

He didn’t want to talk about salvation, but Loki had become the remedy that eased the pain of his days and made him feel less alone.

-I like you.-

He had seen Loki’s cheeks turn red like two cherries, his eyes trembling in disbelief as they locked on his.

-What did you say?- he whispered more than asked.

-I didn’t want to catch you off guard.- seeing Loki blush filled him with overwhelming tenderness: -But I’ve been wrestling with this strong emotion in my chest for weeks, and now I’m sure: I like you, Loki.-

Guilt hit him soon after: Loki didn’t say anything. He just stood there, looking at him over and over, his lips parting and closing constantly.
Had he made a mistake? Rushed things?
The excitement was quickly replaced by worry, and he prepared to apologize.

But that never happened.

He remembered perfectly how Loki had thrown himself at him, his fingers gripping his shoulders as he pulled him into a fierce, necessary kiss.
And he had responded with the same intensity, giving himself over to a love he’d once believed he didn’t deserve.

-Loki loves you. And like anyone in love, he’ll always put your wellbeing before his, whether physical or emotional.- Radgridr’s reassurance wrapped around him, gently pulling him back to the present: -Being punished doesn’t matter to him. But if you’re involved, he becomes more careful.-

-Or more reckless.-

-Exactly!-

He remembered the time Loki had skipped important meetings just to listen to him, earning Odin’s harsh scoldings. But he also remembered when he himself had scolded Loki for neglecting his duties too much, and ever since, Loki had tried to take his responsibilities more seriously.

He feared the power he held over him. He didn’t want to control him or turn their relationship into dependency.

-Anyway…-

He wanted to be anything but a burden.

-Would you like to try the pancakes I made with my sisters? I wanted to make donuts, but Hlökk insisted on helping me, and it would’ve been rude to deny her the joy of making this sweet…-

-Yes.- Simo gave a faint smile. Having a friend like Radgridr in life would’ve been wonderful: -I’d love to.-

Radgridr opened the basket with a smile, pulling out napkins. And just as she started humming a cheerful tune, he felt strong arms wrap around him from behind and a chin rest gently on his left shoulder.

-You and Radgridr organized a delicious picnic and didn’t invite me.- soft lips brushed against his neck in a kiss: -I feel betrayed.-

-Loki…- Simo found himself whispering his name with disarming tenderness: -What are you doing here? You said you were busy.-

-I missed my favorite sniper and left the meeting before it ended. Nothing I haven’t done before.-

-You shouldn’t have done that.-

“You shouldn’t leave your responsibilities just to come find me. You have more important things to do.” he wanted to say, but Simo found himself unable to.
Not with those arms wrapped tightly around him, as if he were more valuable than all the riches in the world.

-Well, I’m already here and I’m not going back. So I might as well stuff myself with pancakes and listen to your secrets~.-

Simo placed a hand on Loki’s wrist, inviting him to let go. His cheeks, exposed without the balaclava, couldn’t hide the blush, and Loki, noticing it, chuckled with satisfaction at the masterpiece his mischief had painted.

-We weren’t sharing secrets behind your back.-

-No? You were smiling a lot, and I noticed quite the obvious connection. If not secrets, then…-

-We were talking about you.- Radgridr cut in with a smile that hadn’t left her face. Silently, she had placed two plates of pancakes in front of Simo and Loki, leaving hers for last: -Simo was expressing his worries, and that’s normal: he’s very in love with you, and he doesn’t want you to lose your smile.-

Simo’s cheeks were now as red as a fire that kept burning without end.

-Ooh.- Loki leaned back to sit beside Simo, raising a hand to his mouth in mock surprise: -This is a very important confession. Simo, I didn’t think I was constantly at the center of your thoughts~.-

-Unfortunately, you are.-

-Unfortunately?- Loki paused his little act and gave a smile that made his eyes shine even brighter with joy: -Do you really mean that?-

-Mh.-

Simo looked away, the blush spreading to the tips of his ears. He couldn’t deny how beautiful Loki could be.
And Radgridr barely held back a laugh, seeing them as a fun, deeply connected couple.

The pancakes were delicious, and being with Loki and Radgridr had brought him real peace. He had laughed and eaten with a clear mind, talked about everything and nothing, and smiled countless times watching Loki admit, more than once, that Radgridr’s cooking wasn’t bad at all. His own way of praising someone’s talent in the kitchen.

The day passed quickly, and Simo couldn’t deny the pang of sadness when the sky turned reddish and lilac, the sun deciding to rest.

It had gotten late, and he didn’t have the power to turn back time, but he could treasure the laughter and joy shared with the two people who had made his life less painful and overwhelming.

-The sunset is beautiful.- Radgridr said in a fascinated sigh, admiring it.

-Yes. It is.-

But Loki’s attention was on Simo, on his back and hands, which, covered by gloves, helped the valkyrie clean up.
Kille, for his part, was lying in the grass, watching them with tired eyes, his paws dirty from hours of running around.

He hadn’t minded spending the afternoon with Radgridr too much. Sure, he tolerated her far less than Brunhilde, but she wasn’t a threat, and never would be.
The truth was, there had been no meeting that day.
Simo would find out eventually, but Loki could always come up with another excuse to cover the little lie.

He couldn’t tell him that he had followed him, shapeshifting into a squirrel to personally make sure the twelfth valkyrie sister stayed in her place.
He had gritted his teeth in fury at seeing them smiling together, and with the jealous rage twisting his gut, he had made himself known.
Joining them hadn’t been planned, he had wanted to whisk Simo away and get rid of Radgridr as quickly as possible, but it had turned out well.

Simo hadn’t suspected a thing and kept gifting him with dazzling smiles.
The jealous discomfort, and tolerating the presence of Brunhilde’s sister, had been worth it.

And for once, he was even willing to stay in that field until midnight, just to keep that smile from fading.

-It’s been a good day.- even though he wore the balaclava, it was clear that Simo was smiling at Radgridr.

-And it went by so fast…- Radgridr smiled softly, not taking her eyes off the sunset: -But we could plan another outing next week.-

-Will we eat pancakes again under the cruel song of the little birds?- Loki asked with sarcasm, but Radgridr didn’t catch it and smiled even more enthusiastically.

-I could pick a new recipe and make caramel apples! They’re delicious, and if we dip them in chocolate too, maybe—.-

-Well, time’s up for farewells. I’d say it’s time to go!-

Loki quickly grabbed Simo by the wrist.

-See you!~-

And without giving Simo a chance to say a proper goodbye to Radgridr, he dragged him away.

-I wish you both a lovely day!- Radgridr called out in farewell, smiling kindly with the basket under her arm.

Loki didn’t need to turn around to know that the slightly-too-grown-up princess was still smiling at them, with that stubborn cordiality that made his stomach churn. His fingers were clenched tightly around Simo’s wrist, if they hadn’t been, he might have already started biting his thumbnail in frustration and cursing aloud at an enemy who, deep down, only wished him well.
Radgridr as calm, affectionate, and charming. It wasn’t surprising that Simo had developed a strong, sincere friendship with her.
But he wasn’t an idiot. He had already lost Brunhilde to Siegfried, he couldn’t afford to lose Simo too.

-You’re jealous.-

Loki stopped abruptly mid-step. When he turned, Radgridr was already far behind them.

-I’m not jealous.- but the speed of his reply matched the quickness of his stride.

Simo watched him - not to mock him, nor to make him uncomfortable. If the god of lies didn’t want to acknowledge the nature of that emotion, it was better to accept him as he was.

-You don’t need to be. Radgridr is just a friend. I only have eyes for you.-

And what might have sounded like a line too sweet to be sincere, more sentimental than rational, shook Loki to his core, as a blush spread across his face.

{Simo confessed. He said he loves me.
He only wants me by his side. It’s my lips he wants to claim, it’s my body he longs to possess.
And I want him only for myself. I desire nothing else.
I love him too much to imagine a future without him.}

Buddha was the most irritating idiot Loki had ever met.

That was the only piece of information Simo had about him. And since he had never met him, he had no idea what he looked like, let alone the places he usually frequented.

As for Buddhism, he knew very little: detachment from material possessions and vices was necessary to reach enlightenment, and anyone who practiced that religion was expected to adopt a humble lifestyle. But beyond that, he knew nothing. Only that “the poor who greedily eat sweets are the first idiots you should never trust.”

But those were Loki’s words too. And he couldn’t take them as absolute truths.

Loki developed aversions easily, harshly criticizing those he deemed unawakened, too eccentric, weak, or unable to use reason even for the simplest of things. There were many types of people he couldn’t stand.
But above all, he hated those who dared to challenge him, and who were strong enough to stand their ground and not let him do as he pleased.
He was temperamental, sometimes to impossible extremes.

That’s why Simo was convinced that Loki, whatever had happened, wanted revenge on Buddha.
And he couldn’t let him do something that stupid. Not even if there was a valid reason behind it.

-Lord Loki passed through here. He was in a hurry.-

-Do you think something happened to him? The aura he gave off was so intense I thought he was going to destroy everything!-

-Ragnarok has left him in a state of deep agitation. He’s… even more unsettling than usual, don’t you think?-

It was his fault. He had thought Loki’s anger was just because of humanity’s first victory, or maybe their earlier argument, but there was something far more complicated going on beneath the surface.

More than once, in the days before, he had seen Loki pacing the room in anxiety, heard him cursing Brunhilde, questioning what she might be plotting behind his back.
He’d had so many signs in front of him, and he hadn’t paid them enough attention, letting Loki vent his frustration without stepping in.
And now, to find him, he had to rely on the gossip of servants who, apparently, knew more than he did.

-Stay out of it, Simo. I don’t want you getting any more involved.-

That sentence, which Loki had said to him three hours earlier, now made even more sense.

“I have to find him. Now.”

He had made a mistake.
But there was still time to make it right.

•

-Kojiro Sasaki and Jack the Ripper have won. It’s time to accept it.-

-Accept it!?- Loki spun around abruptly. He couldn’t understand how Simo, sitting on the bed, could remain as calm as ever: -The deaths of Poseidon and that good-natured idiot Hercules could’ve been avoided! But humanity won!-

-Because they were never taken seriously from the start. They would’ve won those fights anyway if we’d kept assuming their defeat was guaranteed.-

Simo emphasized the word “we” with a colder tone. That change froze Loki from head to toe - as if, all of a sudden, he remembered that Simo was also human.

-Don’t put yourself on the same level as those nobodies.- but Loki’s voice turned sweet, mercurial: -You, in their place, would have starred in an unforgettable battle.-

-The other gods wouldn’t agree.-

-Your aim is flawless. No one would escape your bullets.- Loki continued: -You’re very strong. Facing you would be a serious challenge. But…-

-You think too highly of me.-

-It’s the truth.-

Simo felt his abilities were overrated, that his talent, stained with the blood of men like himself, wasn’t deserved. But there was an inconsistency in Loki’s words that made him pause.
His magnetic eyes hadn’t met Simo’s even once.

-But Loki…- Simo stood and walked over to take his hand: -If you really believe that… why are you trembling?-

For the second time, Loki felt chills course through his skin, chills born of rage and a terror he had tried to suppress. His heart was pounding, and it wasn’t because of love or adrenaline.
It was a feeling he had only experienced once before, with Brunhilde: a kind of emotional gag reflex that pushed him to the edge of despair.
The fear of losing someone far too important.

Loki pulled his hand away sharply: -I’m not trembling.-

-I’m one of the thirteen chosen Einherjar. Fighting can no longer be considered just a possibility. My turn will come—.-

-Your turn will never come!-

Simo didn’t flinch. His eyes remained fixed and unmoving, watching Loki’s chest rise and fall with agitation, his face paler than usual, and his gaze filled with anger and worry directed at him.
They rarely argued, but the conversation that had just begun, if it continued, would escalate into a serious fight.
And Loki, completely enraged and helpless in the face of the direction this was heading, turned his back on him, triggering a stab of sadness in Simo that was impossible to ignore.

-Humanity won’t win again. Brunhilde’s delusional if she really believes two victories can change the outcome of Ragnarök. Her luck will run out.-

-There’s no such thing as luck in battle.-

-You’re not going to fight.- Loki had already decided for him: -Do you remember what I told you? Odin will spare your life. You’re tied to me, and that’s something he can’t ignore.-

-I remember perfectly, but…-

-Good. If you remember, then stop insisting on this nonsense.-

Loki was cruel. He had no tact, no delicacy for the feelings of others, but Simo was the exception.
Later, Loki would regret having spoken to him so coldly, so cynically.
The last thing either of them wanted was to create a rift between them, to ruin a day that, despite everything, had started off so well.

This conversation, turned into a clash of ideas and convictions, had to end. And fast.

-Loki.- Simo’s voice called him with patience. Neither of them wanted to go that far: -You didn’t let me finish.-

Loki was no longer looking at him, but his shoulders had stopped being so terribly tense.

-Fighting is a possibility I don’t like. I’ve been summoned to protect humanity, to fulfill my duty as a soldier, but killing a god is not something I would do lightly. You know that better than anyone.-

-If that’s true, then—.-

-There are duties that must be fulfilled. Even if it means going against your own principles, living with guilt, and feeling your heart burst from the pain.- Simo’s eyes were icy: -I don’t want to cause you pain. I don’t want to hurt anyone else either.-

Loki turned to face him, his expression twisted with a fear no longer hidden behind a mask of anger.

-Simo—!-

-But if fighting to the death guarantees the salvation of all humanity, I’ll do it.-

He didn’t want to see Loki suffer.
He himself suffered whenever the god let himself be swept away by the most devastating emotions, unable to manage them. With his arrogance, Loki fell into contradictions to suppress his deep-seated fear: the fear of losing him.
Of not seeing him by his side anymore, of no longer sharing lunch or dinner with him, of no longer kissing him until they were breathless, and of no longer giving himself entirely to show how much he loved and desired him.

Simo had often thought about the future, just to avoid thinking about the past. His mind had taken him to Rautjärvi, his village; the inside of his home was immaculate, and Kille lay on the humble living room couch. Loki stood beside him, absentmindedly stroking his fur.
Then, when Simo came through the door, Loki would seek his eyes with eager longing and go to him to hug him, kiss him, and make him feel loved.

It had been a brief mental journey, but not far from the reality he longed for them.

The Ragnarok was an unknown, and the battles to come were even more so. But Loki was strong, and so was he. They could do it. They could win.
The pain of killing an opponent, someone he didn’t even know, would shatter his heart into pieces, but Loki would be by his side, ready to pick up every fragment and piece him back together.
That certainty was enough to keep him from hesitating.

-So that’s it… you want to protect humanity at the cost of our bond.-

-I’ll fight for us, too.-

There was only calm joy in Simo’s voice: -We’ll win, and Ragnarok will be nothing but a nightmare.-

-You really believe humanity will win.-

-Yes.-

Loki fell into another pained silence: -You’ll suffer, Simo.-

-I know.-

-And you… knowing that...- Loki left the sentence hanging. He pressed his lips together in frustration, the sting of betrayal pounding in his chest like a painful tightness: -Fine. I get it. Changing your mind is a lost battle.-

He didn’t want Simo to see just how much that cold, stubborn gaze had hurt him.
With tense shoulders, he headed toward the door, planning to go who knows where, when Simo grabbed his hand.

-Where are you going?-

Simo knew Loki was about to cause chaos.
Instead of reaching common ground, he preferred to ease his rage with questionable methods.

-Don’t get involved, Simo. I don’t want you dragged any deeper into this.-

And the door, with a brutal, dry slam, opened and shut with no intention of being opened a second time.

•

-Damn you, Buddha! You’ll pay dearly for this!-

A gunshot rang out. A voice yelled, and an unexpected confrontation was about to begin.

Simo quickened his pace.

From the rowdy group emanated a palpable sense of danger, and his instincts screamed that he needed to proceed with caution.
The one yelling was a man with eccentric clothing, a prominent nose, and dark sunglasses that wouldn’t stay in place. His hand was bleeding heavily.
Six others around him looked equally outraged, casting disapproving glares at the supposed Buddha, who was calmly sucking on a blue lollipop.

Simo had no idea who they were, but he didn’t like them. Arrogance shone in their eyes with a light he despised.
He stopped when he saw more people approaching, drawn in by the overly loud commotion: a smiling old man, a young man watching the group with great curiosity, and a tall man with dark hair beside him.
The last two must have been friends and comrades, in arms, they wore the same uniform and seemed very familiar with each other. But the older man left no doubt: it was Kojiro Sasaki, the swordsman who had taken down Poseidon, granting humanity its first victory.

Simo had watched that fight, and the wounds inflicted were clearly severe. What was he doing here?

-What are you doing, Buddha? Letting a bunch of useless humans back you up? You’ve really hit rock bottom.-

Simo started walking again, this time more slowly.
He would recognize that voice anywhere.

Loki had stepped up next to the sunglasses-wearing god, murderous intent in his eyes and a cruel smile on his face, a mocking act without any real purpose.
He was holding back from killing Buddha, and that restraint could snap at any moment. The presence of the Einherjar wouldn’t stop him. Not when he was this angry.

Because Simo could see it clearly: their earlier argument had given Loki the perfect excuse to unleash his fury, using others as outlets to avoid harming him, or anyone, directly.

-Hearing that from Loki… now that’s truly funny.-

-Huh?-

Buddha crunched the lollipop between his teeth, grabbed the white stick between his fingers, and spun it like a toy.

-I heard a rumor that you’ve gotten real close to a human lately. And not just any human: a skilled sniper, waiting for his turn. I don’t think I need to elaborate.-

-What?- Okita Souji looked at Buddha in confusion: -This evil god is colluding with one of the humans chosen by Valkyrie Brunhilde?-

-Exactly, exactly.- Buddha confirmed with an arrogant grin: -And more than “colluding”… word is, they’re working to make their relationship very—.-

Buddha leapt back, dodging a sharp curved blade that stabbed into the ground, linked to another by a chain.
Loki was no longer smiling.

-When you talk about him, wash your mouth first.-

-Ohh? And why should I?- Buddha was ready to fight: -You speak about exterminating humanity with such passion, but he’s human too. Don’t tell me you plan to kill him?-

-Can’t rule out the possibility that he’s a traitor.-

That baseless accusation made Loki’s violet gaze shoot furiously toward Okita.

-Souji…- Kondo felt cold sweat drip down his back. The threat hidden behind the god of Mischief’s playful mask was starting to surface.

-I don’t know who this sniper is, but if he’s allowed this deity into his life, either he’s evil… or just dumb enough to think he means something to him and will be forgiven.-

That little insect was suggesting that Simo was a fool acting in secret. He didn’t even know him, yet talked about him like he was some clueless worm.
And if Loki had already been furious, now his thirst for blood had reached a peak that made him capable of genocide.

Kojiro was the first to notice it, tightening his grip on his katana’s sheath as a sick feeling choked his throat.

“Incredible… the hatred he’s radiating reminds me of Poseidon. But Poseidon’s was direct, explosive. This one… it’s suffocating. Destructive.” Kojiro’s smile wavered just slightly: “He’s getting ready to tear us apart.”

-I’m tired of this.- Loki said, backed by the Seven Lucky Gods. He stepped forward: -You’re all worthless. Best if you die right here.-

But before Loki could lunge at Okita and clash blades with the samurai, something stopped him.
The air turned freezing in an instant.

-Stop, Loki.-

The closer the newcomer got, the stranger he seemed to Kojiro.
He wasn’t a god - or at least, didn’t seem like one - but the aura surrounding him, the pressure that followed him with every step… it was unreal. It couldn’t belong to a mere human.
In his lifetime, Kojiro had met and fought countless swordsmen, each stronger than the last. But this man dressed in white was an enigma.
His instincts told him not to fear him, but still, Kojiro felt the hair on his arms rise under a wave of continuous, violent chills, like being hit by a snowstorm meant to obliterate everything in its path.

The step of a god of war, ready to rip from you what you loved most.

-And who’s that? An ally?- Kondo asked, confused.
He, like Kojiro, sensed nothing unusual, but the familiarity with which Loki’s name had been spoken left lingering doubts.

-Simo.- when the sniper’s dark eyes locked onto Loki’s, the god felt a chill, but certainly not of fear: -How did you find me?-

-The real question is: “What are you doing here?”- Simo replied, a hint of sarcasm in his voice, even for the god he loved: -We were apart for a few hours and I find you out here breaking Ragnarok’s rules.-

Loki shrugged, indifferent: -I’m not breaking any rules. Just taking some… important precautions. To prevent certain… permanent inconveniences, naturally~.-

-And these people are the threat?-

-One of them, definitely. The others, I couldn’t care less.-

“How boring. The fight hadn’t even started yet.”

Okita had lowered his katana, tempted to sheathe it.
Loki was no longer looking at him, and the human with the rifle on his back hadn’t paid them any attention from the start.
He and Loki were behaving as if they were alone in the world. And they didn’t seem willing to let anyone intrude on their space, not when they hadn’t stopped staring at each other, studying one another, waiting for someone to break the tension with a move, a word, a change.

-You’re smiling.- Kondo pointed out to Okita, noticing the young man’s gleaming white teeth.

-Sorry. Containing my excitement is getting difficult. I can feel a tremendous danger radiating from that soldier.- Okita’s eyes turned a deep, intense red: -He must have killed an unimaginable number of people to reek of death like that~.-

Loki hadn’t heard him, or else he would’ve had yet another reason to kill the short swordsman.
He didn’t want to involve Simo, and suffering his wrath again without having cleared things up wasn’t in his plans. But Simo’s sudden appearance had thrown everything off…

-And just who the hell are you?- Ebisu broke the tense silence abruptly, aiming his pistol at Simo with a look of pure disgust twisting his face: -Get lost! We don’t need more trouble. We’ve already got plenty right here!-

-Hold on a moment. Don’t be so impulsive, like always.- Benzaiten chided him, twirling a strand of her violet hair around her finger: -Can’t you see that Loki knows him?-

-So what? He’s a filthy human, and he looks shady and untrustworthy!- his hateful glare met Simo’s much colder one. The sniper was barely tolerating the offensive remarks being thrown his way: -Why don’t you just disappear and go die alone somewhere?!-

Silence returned, broken only by the sound of someone chewing insistently on a strawberry candy. But seconds later, it was interrupted again, this time by unexpected laughter.
Even Buddha’s usually aloof, drifting eyes turned toward the space between Simo and the Seven Lucky Gods: Loki had a hand on his stomach and was laughing.

-Oh, come on. That’s all you’ve got to say to him? You’re pathetic.-

-Huh? What did you say…?- Ebisu looked at the Trickster God in confusion. Weren’t they about to team up and attack Buddha and the three Japanese? Why the hell was he insulting him?

Loki walked over to Ebisu without wasting a breath, causing more confusion among the seven gods, who, sensing something wrong, were tempted to prepare for battle.
Only Bishamonten remained unfazed in the face of Loki’s murderous aura.

-Yes. You’re pathetic and miserable. A complete failure.- Loki’s violet eyes had turned into dark pits of madness and cruelty. His features twisted into a rigid expression, and his smile stretched unnaturally, ready to spew threats and venom: -Dare to insult him again, and my eyes will be the last thing you ever see in your pitiful existence. Was I clear?-

-You… what do you think—.- Ebisu was forced to stop. Loki’s fingers were digging into his cheeks, his nails breaking the skin and letting small streams of blood trickle down.

-Was I clear?- Loki repeated, whispering sadistically.

Kojiro thought Ebisu was going to be killed. Loki held him like an executioner who had no intention of letting go until he’d devoured him.
But, against all expectations, he saw Simo’s hand rest gently on his shoulder, in a silent request.

That single gesture was enough to calm the Norse god and make him release Ebisu’s face.
And, as before, Loki turned his full attention back to Simo.

-There’s no need to resort to violence to defend me.- Simo’s voice was kind, not as cold as his appearance.

-He deserved a lesson.- Loki muttered, gripping Simo’s hand more tightly as it remained on his shoulder: -His arrogance was getting on my nerves.-

They were a strange pair. Good and evil that, instead of clashing, had come to an understanding and learned to coexist.
To Kojiro, it was crystal clear: those two were not just acquaintances who got along.

-Ah, but…- the eternal rival of Miyamoto Musashi smiled, clearly hiding some delight: -…I didn’t know friendship between a human and a god was even possible.-

-Friendship? You really don’t get it, old man.- Loki took Simo’s hand, the one still on his shoulder, and leaned in, brushing the sniper’s cheek with his lips in a kiss so soft it felt more like a feather’s touch: -He’s mine.-

A soft laugh came from behind Kojiro, who hadn’t had time to say anything else. Turning, he saw Buddha running a hand through his hair in amusement, his eyes sparkling with playful mischief.

Loki, who had laughed just minutes before, now felt a wave of murderous rage surge through his veins. His hands burned with the urge to lunge at Buddha and choke him silent.

-What’s so funny?-

-You two are a couple.- Buddha said, not even bothering to look at Loki. He focused instead on Simo and the hand holding tightly onto the Trickster God’s: -I’m surprised the gossipers haven’t swarmed them yet.-

-Whoever speaks… dies.- Loki hissed coldly: -Staying silent and walking away is the smart move for anyone who doesn’t want to die. And that goes for all of you.-

-Are you threatening us?-

Loki sneered: -Wasn’t it obvious?-

-Enough.-

Loki flinched at the sudden pressure on his hand. Simo’s gaze was turning into a storm ready to break.

-We’re leaving. You’ve already caused enough trouble, Loki. I won’t let you stoop to a meaningless squabble.-

Simo was scolding him. Once again, he was willing to spark an argument between them just to not take Loki’s side.
Buddha, Brunhilde, Ragnarok…
Why had these few days already drained the joy he had felt when he thought Simo would be his forever?
Why couldn’t Simo understand how much it hurt to feel ignored?

“Damn them… damn all of them.” Loki bit his lower lip: “I won’t let them take him from me.”

-Loki.-

“I won’t let them steal what’s mine again.”

-Calm down.- Simo, who could sense his emotions, let go of Loki’s hand only to place his palm on the god’s wrist - anchoring him, grounding him from the flood of thoughts suffocating him: -Fighting is useless, not worth it, and the fifth Ragnarok match is about to begin. You’ll have other chances to entertain yourself.-

-You’d better listen to him, my boy. An unwanted conflict would be… inconvenient.-

Two powerful and opposing auras appeared beside them.
Everyone turned instantly, no one daring to speak upon seeing the Father of All Gods strike the ground with a firm fist, and the Supreme Odin standing beside him, posture rigid and regal.
Their arrival had been unexpected, but it certainly didn’t feel like a good sign, nor the ideal support to defuse a fight.

And Loki was tired. Right now, he just wanted to leave with Simo without stirring up more trouble.

-Who are they?- Okita asked, wide-eyed: -Two old men and two talking crows?! I didn’t think that was even possible!-

-Shut up, idiot.-

-Who gave you permission to talk? You’re insolent!-

-And also really annoying.- Kojiro added, no longer surprised by anything.

Muninn and Huginn didn’t even need to try to be obnoxious. They cawed nonstop and gave everyone a headache.

-Let’s go.-

Simo’s voice, in contrast, was beautiful and harmonious.

-Yes.- and his own voice, automatically, softened.

He preferred to continue their conversation alone, wrapped in his arms and forgiving him with countless kisses.

-Very well…- Loki raised his voice on purpose, closing his eyes for a few seconds with a relaxed air: -You all keep talking. The two of us are leaving.-

He didn’t owe anyone an explanation, didn’t owe anything to anyone: having Simo at his side was enough to forget his rage and all the wounds he’d received. And he had no desire to argue with both Odin and Buddha at the same time.

-I wish you all a pleasant continuation.- Loki cast a fleeting glance at Buddha and Ebisu: -Although this isn’t over.-

-You’re not going anywhere.-

The ground threatened to tremble, and it didn’t only because Odin’s wrath was strangely restrained.

Loki snorted in annoyance: -I’m not allowed?-

-Not without giving a proper explanation… for that.-

Simo was the first to understand what the wise god of Asgard meant: his golden eye was fixed on their joined hands, and the disgust he showed at such a deplorable sight was no secret.
However, something about it felt… off. It wasn’t just disgust.
The gleam in that golden eye was disturbing, filled with a satisfaction too strange to put into words, and the curve of those pale, dry lips was slightly lifted.

Simo felt a discomfort rise in his throat.
It wasn’t disgust. Odin was feeling… satisfaction?

-“For that”… ah, now I get it. Old man, you’ve got to be more direct, or I won’t understand you!-
Loki curved his lips again, but the smile never reached his eyes: -You’ve never cared about my life or my hobbies, and now suddenly you do?-

Loki turned his back and resumed walking. Simo did the same.

-Didn’t you hear?! Stop!-

-Loki, you scoundrel! You can’t—!-

-And you shut your traps. Or I swear I’ll turn into a dragon and roast you.-

Muninn and Huginn froze, barely managing to stay perched on Odin’s shoulders.
Loki’s threat had been far too cold and fierce to be an idle bluff.

-Ohohoh… Loki’s always been a difficult boy, but love for that warrior must’ve changed him quite a bit.- Zeus observed with amusement, hands behind his back and eyes on Loki and Simo’s retreating figures.

Odin didn’t reply, at least not right away. He turned to Buddha and the insolent humans, staring at them with an even colder gaze than usual, unnaturally so.

-I’ll deal with him later.-

“Later? Who are you trying to fool?” Buddha narrowed his eyes, unable for once to show arrogance greater than Loki’s: “You weren’t angry at all. Why, old man?”

But neither Buddha nor Simo would have an answer any time soon.
No one would.

{Brunhilde dared to include Simo’s name in the list of Ragnarok participants. How dare she?!
How could she betray me again like this?
Does she hate me so much that she wants to rob me of the only happiness I’m allowed?
Damn her. Damn her. Damn her. Damn her.
Damn traitor.
No one will take Simo from me. No one!}

-Are you tired yet? With the desperate kisses you gave me, I thought we'd go on all night.-

Loki moistened his lips with his tongue again, focusing on his eyes and opening his legs to receive him for the fourth time in a row.

His skin was beaded with sweat, reddened from kisses and bites, but it demanded to touch Simo's, to be touched and marked until morning.
And Simo's was no exception: covered in bites and nail marks, with the moonlight coming in through the window, it became brighter and more inviting, unable to escape Loki's hands, which assiduously explored it.

-You have a lot of nerve to provoke me. You can barely keep up with me.- Simo entered him, enjoying the long shudder that ran through Loki's body and the iron grip of his legs around his belly, urging him to penetrate deeper.

-Mmm... an excessively evil accusation uttered by the White Death herself. I truly am a bad influence...-

If someone in the past had told him how Simo devoured him with his gaze and made him his with the insatiable desire to hold him body and soul, he wouldn't have doubted it. He would have believed it.

Simo was a kind, obedient soldier, willing to dedicate himself to others, and that was exactly what he did with him: he spoiled him by showering him with attention throughout the day, respecting his role as boyfriend with fervent devotion, and making him feel good, kissing him, making him experience unrepeatable carnal pleasure, and emphasizing again and again that he was his sole and exclusive property.
He was a predator disguised as a vigilant and altruistic sheep. He accused him of being unable to resist any longer, of having reached his limit, but he was in the same condition. In order to avoid hearing him moan, to avoid seeing his eyes moisten with pleasure and his voice invoke his name like a mantra, he preferred to play along and satisfy him.

And Loki couldn't help but feel tremendously lucky.
The victory of Buddha and Emperor Qin Shi Huang had nestled in a remote corner of his mind. What mattered was to remain supported by those strong arms that, days before, due to his own frustration, he had risked not feeling around him for a while. But even then, Buddha's insolence, Ebisu's stupidity, and all the other insignificant presences were a distant and irrelevant memory.

Compared to the peak of pleasure Simo allowed him to savor, anger was an elusive and forgettable wave.

-S-Simo...-

He couldn't do without him. He didn't want to give him up.

He would have destroyed the entire universe and the creatures that inhabited it if it meant keeping Simo safe, along with him.

-Loki...-

And as Simo penetrated him again and again, filling the room with the sound of his moans and the touch of their skin, he saw Loki's fragility.
He saw him and welcomed him, examining the violet eyes, moist with pleasure and unspoken desires, shining with the pleasure he gave him. And Simo felt his heart skip a beat, a clear responsibility on his shoulders.
Because that fragile and needy Loki was no different from the arrogant and insensitive Loki who accompanied him during his days. He hid from prying eyes and only went out with him, giving himself.
And he didn't want to hurt him.

If one day this had happened, he would never have forgiven himself.

-I love you.- a push stronger than the others prompted Loki to shout loudly: -I-I love you...!-

Simo leaned toward him, bringing their lips together and letting Loki's tongue enter his mouth, leaving them breathless.

-I love you too...-

Simo then lost track of time, from their love expressed in voices hoarse with emotion and sex, to how many times he and Loki had consecrated their union.
He fleetingly remembered how the god had submerged himself in his arms, still dirty with sweat and cum, and fallen asleep. He had buried his hand in his hair and, after making sure he was asleep, had wrapped their bodies in the blanket. He remembered nothing else.

He had woken up at dawn, in the same position. And he had spent endless minutes watching over Loki, who showed no sign of moving. He slept soundly, his lips parted and a few strands of hair covering his right cheek.
Simo had feared he would never see him so peaceful again until Ragnarok was over, but luckily that wasn't the case. There were times when he could relax and not focus on everything that was bothering him. And that calmed him down a lot.

-Loki...-

He saw his god mumble something unintelligible in a very low voice, pressing his head against his chest with more force than necessary, an image that made him let out a soft chuckle.

-We need to shower and have breakfast.- Simo whispered gently into his ear.

He didn’t want to remind him that the eighth battle of Ragnarok was about to begin, ruining the harmonious atmosphere they had once again fallen into. He didn’t want to focus on the dark clouds covering the sky, which looked anything but a symbol of good omen.
He wanted this new day, which had started early, to have an endless, fruitful morning.
A morning that could only be unforgettable if spent with the god he had learned to love.

He knew Loki wouldn’t miss the chance; with a teasing smile, he would suggest they bathe together. And to avoid ending up having sex again, he would object, only to be met with that offended pout Loki always gave, the one that never failed to confuse his heart.
And even if it was all predictable, even if Loki forced him to give in with a few kisses… he didn’t want to waste that morning.
He couldn’t stop thinking about it.

-…Loki…-

-Twenty more minutes…- Loki replied sleepily, with no intention of separating from those arms that kept him warm and so safe.

-Twenty?- Simo smiled slightly: -You’re getting more demanding.-

-Mmh.-

-Let’s do this: you stay here under the covers. I’ll take a quick shower and go get breakfast.-

-…you said we’d shower together.-

-Don’t tell me. So you were awake already.- Simo’s voice dripped with sarcasm, which made Loki chuckle against his skin.

-It’s impossible not to be, when your dear sniper doesn’t stop caressing your hair and every inch of your back.-

Loki looked up to see the blush spreading over Simo’s cheeks and laughed. Seeing him embarrassed like that was the perfect way to mentally prepare for a day that would test his patience.

-Teasing you is too easy.- Loki tilted his head upward to lazily press his lips to Simo’s: -It just makes me want to never get out of this bed again.-

Simo closed his eyes, stealing another kiss from Loki in surprise. He sighed against his lips as the god of Mischief’s fingers traced the lines of his muscles, his tongue insistently asking for entrance, eager to meet his.
And he allowed it.

He shouldn’t give in to Loki so easily; the god took shameless advantage of it and made it impossible to focus on anything else. But this was also part of the silent, pleasurable game they often started, the first one to give in, let the other do whatever they wanted.
And this time, it wasn’t Simo who gave in. Not entirely.

Loki groaned when Simo pulled away and tried to lunge back at his lips, eyes heavy with desire, but he was stopped. With a firm grip, Simo held his wrist, forcing him to stay lying in bed.
Loki might be a god, but he was a soldier who had lived through the most atrocious, inhuman aspects of war. His resolve was immeasurable.

-I’m taking a quick shower and going to get breakfast.- Simo repeated, speaking over Loki’s murmured protest.

-We have servants at our disposal. It’s their duty to take care of us, you don’t need to trouble yourself.-

-We’ll eat, and then we’ll bathe.-

-Would you really wash a second time just to make me happy? My, what have I done to deserve such a perfect partner?-

Simo briefly shook his head: -I wonder the same.-

-Argh, so insensitive.- Loki pressed a slow kiss to his chest, then pulled away, resting his head back on the pillow and closing his eyes: -Fine, you win. I’ll let you go.-

Simo got out of bed, giving him one last caress before heading to the bathroom.

-But don’t take long. I can’t stand suffering your absence.-

-I won’t be long.-

He washed quickly, his mind still replaying the night of passion he and Loki had shared. Every part of his body he cleaned had been kissed by the god’s hungry lips, and when he looked specifically at the purplish marks on his neck and chest, Simo realized they wouldn’t fade anytime soon.
Loki’s intention had been to mark him, to claim him, and he had succeeded.

-You really do have a strong need to make me yours, huh…- he found himself murmuring as he washed, deciding to leave his hair for later.

He stepped out of the bathroom after barely ten minutes, dressed and perfumed, and noticed that Loki had curled up under the covers. It wasn’t like him to fall asleep again so quickly, especially not after less than half an hour. He must’ve been more tired than he looked if…

-If you don’t head to the kitchen this instant, I swear I’ll jump on you and keep you trapped in this bed for the next twelve hours.- there was a short pause: -Your perfume’s reaching me from here.-

…he wasn’t asleep.

Hiding under the covers was his personal tactic to avoid kissing him senseless.

-Do you want anything in particular?-

There were two options: either Loki was plotting a massive revenge scheme to force him to hurry up and make breakfast, or he was simply reveling in all that attention, which, in general, fueled his pride. Because he didn’t reply.

Usually, it was Loki who took care of everything to make sure Simo was well, who made sure he could take the morning calmly, that his smile remained intact. This time, that’s why Simo wanted to do things right and reverse the roles.
After all, Loki’s well‑being had never been indifferent to him.

-You decide…- the god finally whispered in a soft, tender voice. Simo barely smiled, finding it almost absurd how Loki, even when awake, could sometimes play out such innocent and delicate scenes.

Without feeling the need to add anything more, Simo slipped into his sandals and stepped out.

The hallways were empty, and the rooms of the other humans were locked as usual. Over the last two days, he had heard strange noises coming from a room whose door sounded like a massive safe, but they’d quieted down, along with the voices inside. Otherwise, everything remained the same, and he had never had the chance to run into another representative of humanity.

Okita Souji and Sasaki Kojiro had been the first he’d seen after several days of waiting. They seemed like good people, and he felt reassured knowing Kojiro had already won his fight. He hoped Souji would have the same fate if he had to fight.

However, there was one room that, more than any other, stirred his curiosity while also making him want to stay as far away as possible.

He didn’t look at the huge cell on his right as he passed it, and he didn’t try to peek inside, like Loki once had. He avoided it with a cold, hard gaze as he made his way to the kitchen, aware that whoever, or whatever, was inside could not be benign or trustworthy.

-Simo Häyhä, the White Death who eliminated young soldiers and experienced veterans alike, brave men and terrified children. What an honor.-

But for some strange reason, after several occasions of silence, a hoarse voice with an irritating accent spoke up, calling him by his name.

Simo stopped abruptly, frowning, shoulders tense. That accent was clearly Russian.

“I don’t know him. His voice doesn’t even sound familiar to me.” with that quick mental thought, he started walking again, far from calm. He wanted to reach the kitchen as soon as possible, and see if there were side passages that could take him back to his room without having to cross the main corridor.
Every sense screamed at him not to let his guard down.

-You’re ignoring me, that’s not a nice thing to do.- the man’s voice observed, amused: -In Finland, didn’t they teach you good manners?-

Simo stopped again.

-And you Soviets, didn’t they teach you not to bother someone who doesn’t want to stop and chat?-

-Soviets’? I’m not a Soviet.- the stranger inside the cell clarified, sounding in no way confused: -You’re mistaken.-

-My apologies.- Simo narrowed his gaze as unbearable pangs of guilt stabbed at his chest: -Goodbye.-

He hated remembering the Winter War. The crimes he had committed were etched into his heart, leaving permanent scars that would never vanish.
He had wept for his enemies, for the families he’d destroyed. He had cried when he realized that he had stolen dreams and hopes, having taken part in a conflict that psychologically and physically ravaged people who only wanted a quiet life. And he had hated himself.

He had hated himself for having survived. For not being able to fully savor the calm and the inner peace that only death could have given him.

And the Russian speaking in that cell, whoever he was and from whatever era, was reopening a wound that only Loki and Radgridr had helped him suppress.

-Goodbye? You didn’t even look me in the face! You don’t know who I am or what I want from you!- the Russian accent made the man’s voice sound even more abrasive, more rasping.

But no matter how much indignation he sensed in that voice, Simo refused to stop in that corridor a second time. He started walking again. He could’ve stopped and turned back, but then he risked having to see this man’s face, and if there was even the slightest chance he was another soldier like himself, he couldn’t bear it.

He wasn’t ready to forgive himself. He only wanted to return to his room as soon as possible.

-You’re pretty difficult…- the Russian sighed: -I had heard good things about you: a man of honor, pure of heart, ready to listen… except to me.-

Simo didn’t turn, didn’t reply. He didn’t want to get drawn into a game. He knew where that path would lead.

-I’m not trying to judge you; being cordial and helpful to others has never appealed to me. But I thought Loki’s integrity mattered more. Was that also a lie?-

Simo trembled as a deeper, longer pang struck his chest. With wide eyes and frozen feet, he couldn’t think of Loki, of how he was waiting under the sheets, fragile, ready for breakfast and to spend the whole morning beside him.

-Your footsteps have stopped. Did I inadvertently touch a sensitive spot?-

He wasn’t armed. The rifle wasn’t with him. And if he had been, he would never have let Radgridr stain herself with blood and live with such awful guilt. He condemned violence in all forms, and also condemned himself for the pain he had caused.

But that prisoner behind bars unsettled him. He didn’t know him, but he did know a lot about his private life. And that could only mean one thing.

-What has Brunhilde told you?-

-Brunhilde? I don’t understand. Who is this woman?-

Simo stepped forward furiously and approached the bars separating him from the man who stirred anger in him. In the half‑light he saw large hands and a twisted smile, and he chose not to give him any more attention than he deserved.

-Don’t lie. You know her.- his dark eyes turned icy: -Was it she who told you about him?-

-Not exactly. She said my deceptions were innocuous by comparison, and said Loki, if he fought me, would utterly destroy me. Oh, and she also told me to stop acting like a god.- a chuckle echoed down the corridor, and Simo leaned back, wrinkling his nose despite wearing a mask, the stench of alcohol was nauseating: -I don’t think she likes me much.-

Interrogating him was pointless. This man had his attention, and he wouldn’t leave him alone until he was bored.

-I don’t even like you either.-

-How can that be? We just met and—.-

-Arrogance alone isn’t enough to win. Keep going like this, and you’ll die.-

-They already tried to kill me, and succeeded, only because I fell into those damned icy waters.- he spat with disgust: -This time it’ll be different. I’ll drive the very god of death to despair and steal his title.-

-Stealing a god’s title…- Simo watched the other Einherjar’s face growing clearer: -You’re insane.-

-Think whatever you want. But the gods want our extermination; continuing to feign respectful hypocrisy is pointless.-

Simo remained silent, without judgment. What he was saying couldn’t be contradicted.

-What’s your name?-

-Now you want to know my name?-

-You said you weren’t Soviet.-

-Because I’m not.- the man repeated, surprised that Simo refused to speak to him just because of a prejudice against Soviets: -Maybe you’ve heard of the Romanovs.-

Simo nodded, not confirming or denying. He already knew the name, enough to piece things together.

-I was very close to them. I helped them in whatever way I could: -The phrase slid out with so much malice that Simo didn’t miss it: -Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin. Now you know my true identity.-

-Rasputin, the lascivious monk who brought down the Tsarist regime. I heard of you as a child.-

-“The lascivious monk who brought down the Tsarist regime”? I wasn’t the one who condemned them to death. I’d been dead a year before that. Are you sure you know my story, young man?-

-I do.- Simo replied, not hiding his annoyance: -My homeland gained independence from Russia in 1917. Your name made the papers.-

-I’m famous.-

-Yes. But for the wrong reasons.- interrupted the Finn: -And you? How do you know Loki and me? Why are you interested in our actions?-

-I’m not interested.- Rasputin replied, flashing a disturbing, toothy smile that even the darkness of the cell couldn’t hide: -I’m fascinated.-

-Explain yourself.-

-I’ll confirm everything I’ve told you: I’ve known the eldest of the Valkyries for several years, and it was she who told me about Loki. Just like you, I’m one of the upcoming participants, and my turn shouldn’t be far off. She visited me and, to be direct, said I could’ve been the adversary of the god of mischief, if only I weren’t so predictable. No one had ever told me that before.- Rasputin sighed, stepping further away from the bars: -She planted doubt in me, and yet she chose me. That woman is a walking contradiction. In another life, I would’ve taken her to bed.-

-You haven’t answered me.-

-Give me time! I just want to give you a complete, flawless narrative.-

From the monk’s ease, it was obvious he appreciated some human contact after spending days, perhaps more, in complete isolation. Simo, on the other hand, had tense shoulders and didn’t dare lower his guard.
Brunhilde might have been a contradiction, but there was no doubt her decision to lock Rasputin in a sealed cell had been carefully thought out.

Simo didn’t just feel it, he was sure Rasputin was merely restraining himself. That if he wanted, he could get out of that cell. That he might not be able to defeat Loki, but he could definitely give the god of death serious trouble.

-You should be killing each other, not getting swept up in promises of love and nights of wild passion.- Rasputin laughed, earning a cold glare from the sniper. Whether he wanted to or not, that only amused him more: -You’ve forgotten the roles you play in this story. And that will be your downfall. You’ll contribute to the downfall of Ragnarok, and your forbidden love story will end in tragedy.-

Rasputin had noticed how Simo Häyhä’s demeanor had changed, becoming lethal, cold as the winter nights. The disdain he’d admitted feeling for Rasputin was clear, sincere. But that silent rage now emanating from him was bone-deep, forcing the monk to take a slightly more cautious stance.

-You wanted answers and I gave them to you.-

-Don’t joke.- his low voice and balaclava couldn’t mask the fury; Simo gripped one of the cell bars: -What you said sounds like…-

-A prophecy?- Rasputin’s grin sharpened: -Interpret it however you like. But just a few rumors about you two were enough for me to understand how your relationship will end. That’s the fate of every enemy who one day decides to become a lover. They think love can break down any barrier, when it’s nothing but a utopia that will plunge them into the abyss.-

-Don’t talk like you’ve got truth in your pocket.-

-And don’t disregard the certainty of advice from a monk left to rot alone.-

Taking advantage of Simo’s grip on the bar, Rasputin grabbed his wrist. Simo’s attempts to break free were useless, physical strength had always been one of his weak points.

-Humanity will be exterminated, and here you are, wanting to kiss that god who despises our kind and wishes to see it annihilated. What makes you think you’ll be treated any differently? What makes you think either of you will make it out of this massacre?- Simo’s eyes widened in horror, but Rasputin didn’t let go: -You might defeat your opponent, but who guarantees that Loki will survive? That you won’t witness his death?-

Simo’s heart clenched at the thought.

-Enjoy this fleeting adventure, because in a few hours, you may regret it to the point of madness.-

-Enough!-

With a violent yank that slammed his wrist against the bars, Simo broke free. The pain was considerable, but not as much as the one that reminded him how many people had lost loved ones during the war.
He hadn’t lost anyone. He had been lucky in his cursed fate.

But if he were to lose Loki… right in front of his eyes…

A distant clock chimed, followed by the sound of a door opening and closing.
Simo immediately knew it was his room’s door, and the approaching footsteps could only belong to Loki.

-They’re coming for you.- Rasputin also came to the same conclusion: -You’d better go, or your god will tear me to pieces.-

-I should let him.-

-But you won’t. Your soul is too pure.-

And unfortunately for Rasputin, that was true.
Simo would never let Loki get blood on his hands, never let him kill someone just to protect him.
But the frustrating awareness that he’d made Loki worry because of that charlatan was burning him up inside.

Without saying a word, instead of heading to the kitchen, Simo moved toward the approaching footsteps. Rasputin didn’t stop him: the annoying smile was still on his face, though a truth in his eyes made Simo feel even more confused.
He didn’t want to look at them.

-Simo!-

Wrapped in a robe that revealed his chest and the tattoos on his arms and legs, Loki hurried to reach him.
His violet eyes, as Simo had feared, glowed with worry. Agitation consumed him, and the first thing he did upon reaching Simo was place a hand on his left cheek, gently caressing the fabric of the balaclava.

-What happened to you?-

-Nothing. There’s no need—.-

-Then why do you have that look?-

“That look? What does he mean?” Simo thought, confused, unaware that his eyes betrayed a pain too deep for his heart to hide.

-Must’ve been my fault. I upset him with my advice.-

Loki turned sharply toward the cell, his eyes suddenly dark, filled with hatred and contempt.

-What did you say to him, you worthless?-

Loki didn’t care who he was talking to. He just wanted to destroy him, to make him cry every tear of pain imaginable for leaving Simo in such need of comfort.
He took a step forward, just one, but that was enough for Simo to react and stop him from doing something foolish, grabbing his arm with an evasive glance.

-I’m not okay, Loki.- Simo didn’t lie, knowing this would make Loki even more worried, and that’s exactly what happened: the god looked at him with a stunned, anxious expression, searching for direct answers that wouldn’t come.

-If you’re not well, I’ll take you to the room. I’ll take care of breakfast later.-

-I’m sorry.-

-You have nothing to apologize for!- Loki gently lifted Simo’s chin with two fingers, forcing him to meet his eyes: -You don’t owe me anything.- once again, he turned toward the cell, seeing Rasputin’s smile and letting his face twist into a cruel, sharp, terrifying expression: -He’s the one who’ll be begging for forgiveness.-

-No.-

-No? Simo, your face is as pale as a corpse, and you tell me I shouldn’t—.-

Loki went silent. The anger stopped.
Simo’s eyes were glassy, on the verge of tears. He had never exposed himself like that, never cried in Loki’s presence. Even the few times he managed to sleep and woke up startled by nightmares, he didn’t complain.
He’d ask for a glass of water and for Loki’s hands to calm him by stroking his hair. Then, with effort, he’d try to fall back asleep, soothed by the god’s whispers promising he’d never be alone.

-You’re safe, for now. But don’t get your hopes up.- Loki wrapped an arm around Simo’s shoulders, his eyes burning like two fierce flames: -I’ll be back and torture you so thoroughly you’ll beg for death. But tough luck, there won’t be any convenient escape for you.-

-Didn’t expect anything less.- Rasputin replied, suspiciously calm.

Loki gave him a disgusted look before finally turning away.
Simo’s trembling sigh was what convinced him.
Returning to their room with Simo drowning in painful memories was almost unbearable.
He felt like the sniper’s sorrow was punching through his own chest with triple the force.

Even when he sat him down on the bed, it hurt to see him with glassy eyes, clearly lost in thought. Loki felt utterly powerless.

-Simo…- Loki took his hand firmly: -You’ll tell me what happened when you’re ready. But… please, smile again. I can’t stand seeing you like this.-

It was a silent plea he often made to himself, but this time he allowed himself to show it completely.
And somehow, it worked, Simo’s eyes glowed with pure surprise, mixed with a brief sense of comfort.
Loki never stopped showing how much he cared. And that…

-I don’t want to lose you.-

Loki pressed his forehead to Simo’s: -And you won’t. Never.-

…made him feel like the luckiest man alive.

{As expected, Simo’s sense of duty is immense.
But so is the love he feels for me.
He got angry because I hid the truth from him. Without Brunhilde’s intervention, humanity would have been destroyed, all souls would have vanished…
Except his.

We argued - I hate fighting with him, I can’t stand it! I don’t want that damn look of his judging me, as if he stopped loving me!

[…]

Simo doesn’t like fighting either.
After an hour, we cleared everything up and promised each other not to keep any more secrets.
Oh, Simo… I’d do anything for you.
If you want complete honesty from me, then you shall have it.
Because your smile belongs to me alone.
You are mine alone.}

-Can I look now?-

-No, you can’t.-

-But where are you taking me?-

-I can’t tell you. Simo, please, what’s the point of surprises if someone comes along and ruins them? Just enjoy the moment and stop being so tense!-

Whenever Loki set out to do something, he always got what he wanted, often at the expense of others. The people he cared about could be counted on one hand, and if Brunhilde had hurt him deeply, Simo had come into his life to heal those wounds and make him feel incredibly loved.

Loki remembered the first tactics he used to win him over, the initial paranoia that consumed him thinking about what would happen if Simo didn’t feel the same way, and the first jealous outbursts he shared with the world, and with a Simo who didn’t quite understand his wildly erratic mood swings.
But more than anything else he held dear like a priceless treasure was Simo’s smile.

He had taken a serious risk and lost that smile temporarily because of that drunk monk he longed to destroy and tear apart. That couldn’t happen again.
That’s why he’d put so much effort into preparing a surprise that would fill Simo’s heart with joy, one that would push him to show a genuine, unrestrained smile, the kind Loki was utterly enslaved by.
He could have avoided asking Radgridr for advice, but before he could back out and do it on his own, the valkyrie, with her suspicious but kind and friendly nature, took it upon herself to carry out the mission to the letter. And it was hard to admit, but Radgridr had been surprisingly good at not raising the slightest suspicion in Simo, allowing everything to go off without a hitch.

-Loki?-

-Stop here and don’t say a word. I love hearing your voice, but if staying quiet means I get to see you happy, then I can do without it for a moment.-

Simo gave in, letting Loki, who was tugging at his arm, lead him to their destination. He had been told to keep his eyes closed, and that’s exactly what he was doing, but the curiosity was overwhelming.
One day Loki surprised him, and the next, he somehow managed to top it with an effortless charm. An unusual gift for someone who usually spread sheer indifference toward every other living creature.

-Mmh… no, stop right there. Take a few steps to the right.-

Simo obeyed.

-Actually, no. A few steps back.-

He did as told again.

-…okay, forget it. Go back to your original position.-

-…-

-I can feel the disappointment from here, Simo. And it’s very entertaining.- Loki chuckled softly, taking advantage of Simo’s focus to slip behind him and place his hands gently on his shoulders: -Lift your head. You’ll get to see the world again, but under one final condition: wait for my signal.-

-Mmh.-

-Come on, hold on just a little longer. Do me this favor.- from the quick kiss Loki pressed to his cheek, Simo could tell that he was also hoping for something.

“What is he planning?” he wondered, trying to imagine what kind of surprise Loki had prepared, but he gave up soon after.

He didn’t want to question anything. Why be analytical and observant, when he could simply enjoy the moment?

-All right. You can open your eyes.-

A myriad of colors.
That was the first striking detail that amazed Simo as he gazed up at the night sky.

The shades of green, pink, and violet rippling vibrantly across the sky were mirrored in Simo’s eyes like drops of dew falling gracefully into a river. The emotion was too overwhelming to put into words, and the northern lights were beyond compare. There was nothing like them on Earth - not in color, not in scale. They weren’t eternal; they were fleeting.

And Loki knew that well. He had done his research to plan something breathtaking, something impossible to forget.
Seeing Simo speechless, with the aurora reflected in his eyes, was an image of priceless value, one that Loki would keep deep in his heart for the rest of his life, a heart that beat solely for him.

-Loki, this…-

-Do you like it?-

Simo turned slowly toward him. He saw him smiling, those bright violet eyes glowing, green hair dancing in the breeze of the night. And his cheeks, flushed even redder, revealed just how emotionally invested he was, how much he loved him, and how far he would go to make sure he was happy.
And that blend of colors, for Simo, was mesmerizing and unforgettable.

-It has your colors.-

Loki blushed even more: -What?-

-The aurora.- Simo’s eyes softened. He was clearly smiling: -It has your colors.-

[A prophecy? Interpret it however you like. A few rumors about the two of you were enough for me to understand how your story ends. It’s the fate that embraces all enemies who one day decide to become lovers. They think love can tear down any wall, when that’s nothing more than a utopia that will drag them into the abyss.]

Happy endings don’t exist in real life, Simo had learned that from personal experience.
But they were no longer on Earth. They were in a realm where gods and mortals could witness the unreal and the impossible.

That’s why, if no carefree and redemptive future was written for him and Loki, they would create one together, fingers intertwined, lips sinful with burning kisses and love.

For that ending, their ending, Simo was willing to risk his life.
Without a trace of regret.