Dark!loki X Reader - Blog Posts

The Doplerganger Phenomenon (Halloween 2023) PART 1

Pairing: (Professor) Loki Laufeyson x Female Reader (College Student)

Warnings: Vague horror mentions, SFW. Words: 2911

Tropes: A doplergnager of someone you know...A string of unexplained deaths and on top of that things are going missing from your apartment.

A/N: 🤪 Inspired hugely from a childhood Japanese horror (?) Romance movie that ws titled Dooplergnager!! #no beta, no editing. My first MCU FIC. Sadly I can't find it on YouTube and I lost the CD, if anyone can find it-- the movie goes like this without any gore. An office girl (I think) lives alone at home, uses charcoal to draw on a canvas and is thinking of entering a museum's art contest... but is so indecisive, and suddenly the door bell rang, she goes to see who it is and sees its a blind guy who idk is asking if it's the right address or smth. She says no and he goes away. ... Boom from one floor beneath her apartment, at the same location as her door, another her appears... her dooplerganger-- who does what she was indecisive about, draws, enters the art contest, basically this whole movie is some detective supernatural thing where a detective discovers that some ppl jump off buildings after seeing their dooplergangers achieve better than them. Sooooo ;) this is not an original idea, just wanna honour this movie.

~~~~~~~

Clap.  

 "Listen here. If nobody takes this Friday exam seriously, I'll have Mr. Laufeyson take over all my classes for the rest of the week." Lightheartedly said Thor, his wide voice overpowering the whole classroom, grinning in playful triumph, yet the threat was very real. 

Groans and moans—some boos here and there—fill out the jam-packed classroom, ranging from zombie-tired to actual fear responses. My reaction lied delicately, balancing on the tightrope of both dread and hope, but my heart twisted in excitement. 

Among the chorus of complaints, chatter, and chairs shrieking surrounding me, I took my sweet time filing and packing my things, which were not so neat. Class ended on a very motivational note. .   .   . 

Professor Thor's brother was not one most students willingly paid a visit to after-hours, unlike the other teachers, and looking for him without a purpose in academic advice is as pointless as buying rope from a camel. 

His striking slim features, like his most prominent and popular emerald gems for eyes and boney face, take a stand in attracting many to sign up for his courses. I so happened to be one of the lucky few who didn't check the profiles of the teachers and allowed that to influence my decision-making. 

Beauty is always deceiving. 

And it never fails to be so entertaining to watch from the back rows when another person rage-quits, abruptly leaves in the middle of his teaching, or slumps defeatedly in their seats each and every week. It never stopped Mr. Laufeyson from carrying on the lesson—not even when a wasp flew in by mistake and terrorised the class while he didn't bat an eye.

Until it went after him, he took immediate action, swatting it hard against the wall with a ruler. 

He froze. 

Holding that fatal position, he rotated his head towards me—I meant, the class obviously. 

"Now, any questions? And if there are, you best make it good; otherwise, you'd like your future grade to fall from a height." He removes the ruler, revealing a flattened wasp slowly unsticking itself from the wall and plummeting down with a comically weak buzz.

Then silence.   

"Just like that." 

I held back from laughing, except for a tiny chuckle joining the other students'. Sucking in the bottom of my lip, I focused on the assignment on my laptop while keeping an active ear for any tidbits of information from him. I really liked his humorous side. But there was something else about him that I loved. 

…RING. 

 There went the bell, and class was dismissed. Mr. Laufeyson, with a smooth ease, was the first to leave, and the others and I stalled to watch him before following suit in hushed giggles. 

"—ho! Just now, that got me feeling some type of way." 

Another girl low moaned, "I'm melting like an ice cream in the sun."

 "I wish he used that ruler on me instead." 

Mmhmm.

Mr Laufeyson's back disappeared after a sharp turn, he's never in the cafeteria during lunch breaks but in a way what a relief he won't ever see the dumb side of me. Not that he sees me as anything else except a student. 

But it will change.

Thankfully graduation was right around the corner… By then I'll have a chance to ask him out properly. Maybe buy him some flowers? As a farewell appreciation gift. 

.   .   .

"I heard you used my name again to scare the children," Loki piqued, hands studiously behind his back as he approached the sun-lit kitchen.

His brother, shining blonde tied-back hair, grins wolfishly after downing a beer can and tossing it in the trash, making it over to Loki.

"Relax, it's just a joke, brother!" Thor let out a boisterous laugh, smacking a large hand on Loki's shoulder and causing him to slightly flinch. "College kids need the motivation. A kick of adrenaline, am I right?" 

"More work that is unnecessary doesn't sound very funny to me. I will not be babysitting your class again after last time, a word of warning."

"Oh come on now, you have a knack for torturing students to greatness— and I can supply you with as many peoplee as you wish. Just say the word!—"

Loki's unamusement showed in his thin smile and poise stance.

"—Don't think I've seen the way you've been holding yourself back from having fun these days." He winked, walking off with a whistle in the direction of his study.

Loki didn't think it was obvious but of course his brother noticed his recent shift in behavior, more avoidance. But like all things in life, it would soon pass. It has to. And it will.

The root of his avoidance would graduate soon enough next month. He'll just have to exercise more patience and wait it out.

.    .    .

Friday nights are always the best to rewind and treat myself to fast food on the couch. It's fun to pretend that there's 3 days in the weekend.

Time to imagine the handsome actor in the Notebook as Mr Laufeyson.

"Sorry, can't join you tonight girl. I got a 2nd date with Taro!" Juliet whooped excitedly, pumping a fist towards the ceiling as she one-handedly strapped on her glittery heels with urgency.

I waved weakly at her bursting enthusiasm, smiling hard and happy for her. "Goodluck—"

The door slammed in my face, faint clip-clops of her heels muffled away into the buzzing night, and the disappointment of my ruined plans reflecting off the smooth rogue-wood. 

Welp and there goes movie-night with my bestie roommate… Now I've got the whole place to myself, wowie, nice. Time for some self-care.

Was what I thought before accidentally falling asleep in the middle of a firework love confession scene on the big screen, an empty bag of popcorn kernels laying at the foot of the couch I slouched on. As I finally snored myself awake, a series of insistent knuckle-punching came from the door, louder than the TV audio.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

That is so unlike the bubbly optimistic Juliet I know, she wouldn't be coming home until… I patted around me for my phone and checked the time. 

9:00 PM. 

Yep. It's far too early. 

Instantly I sat up straight, unblinking, eyeing the front door with a tight clutch on my phone. No way is Juliet even close to retiring from her date, ever. No one is supposed to be here and not at this time.

BANG. BANG.

Step by cautious step, I neared the door and tiptoed to peer out of the peephole at what–or–who was causing the commotion. My phone at the ready to call the cops.

BANG.

A mop of slick black hair blocked the majority of my sight: as if this person was leaning forwards, face-first, into the door like he was either trying to hide his identity or didn't know how doors work. Since usually people wouldn't be standing so absurdly close against a door with knowing the possibility of it hitting them.

Or this is a drunk idiot who wondered off from one of the other houses. An uncommon occurence but happens.

BANG— 

"Stop!" I shouted, my free hand taking hold of the doorknob firm and full of annoyance. Ready to give this possible-drunk a piece of my mind.

The person listened then a soft, almost feverent breathing came through the wood after hearing my voice. Are they drunk and sick? Not the first time seeing this terrible combo.

"Please take a step back!" I warned the person on the other side and swung the door wide open in a rush of concern. 

My unsuspecting self, dumbfoundedly, receiving the best shock of my life. It was a man. I knew.

"Well," glimmered a pair of deep green gem-like eyes once settling in my face. Upclose and too personal.  "Hello, my darling. It's been too long." 

That infamous silky voice that slithers into anyone's consciousness for days. Belonging to non other but my– I mean, that man.

My vocal cords decided to stop functioning without my consent. "H…" 

Almost all of my vocabulary disappeared from my brain the second I fully registered the familiar handsome face in my head. His petal-thin lips parted while my jaw hung as we both looked at each other in a mutual deadlock.

"M– Mr Laufeyson?" My tongue muscle memory took over. 

He nodded curtly in confirming his identity, still staring wide-eyed at me as if drinking me in like a new sight to behold. 

Wait he shouldn't be here. I wasn't hallucinating this hard, right.

There was no reasonable explanation as to why I could be hallucinating without a drop of alcohol in my system. Unless he stalked me, which is impossible to imagine the busy man ever doing, even pondering it, to me of all people. 

Hah. I wish.

But lo and behold it was him, genuinely in the flesh, smiling the most biggest white-teethed smile I've seen. 

"May I come in, please. Darling?" 

In where? In what? 

Trying to make sense of the current reality standing infront of me, hoping this wasn't a prank. 

"Why are you here… Sir." I intoned, politely, darting my eyes around him at the dark corners suspiciously. This wasn't some graduation prank right, I secretly hoped it wasn't.

"Why?" A, very nice sounding, humourous chuckle ripples from him before he continued.

"How could I not pay a visit to my most brilliant student? I would regret it for as long as I live." He said it extremely convincing as if it was normal to show up out of the blue at my house in the middle of the night. 

"Right. Um, please come in."

I beckoned him in with an instinctual welcoming smile, holding back the urge to tidy my no-doubt ratty appearence and adjust my clothes as he entered. 

Brushing his whole arm against mine, on accident I think, but he didn't seem to notice, too focused on removing his shining boots. 

Nervously, I closed the door behind him while deeply breathing in the faint passing of his leafy cologne. My mind long forgetting if I should've let him inside. 

I tersely said, ignoring the happy booming in my heart, and gestured to the gray couch. Hoping he wouldn't notice the tiniest shade of darker gray, the imprint of where I lazed earlier. 

"Please, sir, make yourself at home." 

"Oh, I planned to." Mr Laufeyson winked uncharacteristically, smoothly shrugging his coat off him and folding it over the armrest– where I laid my head earlier– casually. One of his hands had a purplish-dark marking across the skin, must've been from him knocking something. 

"Thank you, darling."  

"No problemo." That was not a cool response at all. Internally I cringed at myself while mentally noting to get him a bandage for his hand injury.

It took much willpower not to lose control of my eyeballs from running down the rare sight of him in only his white button-up while feeling his intense emerald gaze all over me. 

Juliet is not going to believe this.

Alright, I'm going to be a good host. And only that. He probably wants to ask about what career path I'm choosing or something, so hold back.

I cleared my throat, meeting with his eyes.

"Sir, would you like some tea or coffee?" And maybe stay longer.

"From you? Anything will do."

.   .   .

Crackles of laughter sitting together on the couch, his arm draped over the back of the cushion behind my head, silly banter over past lessons he taught, tiny tidbits of his favourite things and color (as I suspected was green) proven correct. We share more things in common than I had thought. 

Who knew I'd be the lucky one to be graced with getting personal with Mr Laufeyson. 

1:10 AM.

In a blink of an eye, time seemed to skip over and the hour hand crossed midnight. Even though I felt no ounce of drowsiness— it wouldn't be appropriate to let him get caught by my roommate. This wasn't exactly all that inappropriate too, we only talked. 

"Sir, it's getting very late. I'm sure you have another student to visit tomorrow or something," I tried to sound casual with mild contact, genuinely smiley, and not at all like I was pushing him to get the hint. 

His emerald eyes flashed understanding as he gave a relaxed smile, getting up from the couch slightly slow. "I'd hate to overstay my welcome and have you lose your beauty sleep." 

I chuckled and copied his action while he collected his coat, his slim fingers fiddling with the buttons almost mindlessly. It was a rare sight to see Mr Laufeyson act… Nervous? Maybe, that would be funny to imagine but he must be feeling discourteous for accidentally not watching the time slip by. 

I know I would.

"Oh and dear." 

My gaze instantly flicked up to his already on me. "Don't think for one second I could ever forget you," he closed the distance between our bodies and said my name so intimately. Leaning in, tilting his head, my heart a combustion of excitement, as his eyes shut and he left a peck on my cheek. 

The signals were green. He was giving all the right signals and I'd be a fool not to go for it. Just not right now. 

I muffled my own giggle, leading him to the door as I held it wide open for him. "Thanks for stopping by, Mr Laufeyson. It means a lot to me." More than he could ever know. If only he could stay longer but that would be a huge violation to my roommate's trust. Darn it.

"As it is for me." 

He softly smiled, taking his sweet time to walk down the small steps. Glancing back at me twice. 

He left without a hurry into the swallowing darkness where the streetlights lacked reach, and I continued staring out the peephole long after his ghostly tall figure lost itself in a concerning direction. Only alleyways and deadends there. 

But I shouldn't be too worried, he looked like he knows where to go.

Tik. Tok.

 Tik tok.

It felt like an eternity wishing for Monday to arrive quicker, my nerves aflamed for the entire weekend as I picked out cute outfits in advance. Surely he'd appreciate a different look from me, I couldn't wait to see his face again.

—RING.

.    .    .

Back to class. Here we go!

For once throughout my college days, I woke up an extra hour before my alarm and prepped an all natural make-up look. Taking special care to choose a flattering outfit and spritzing all over myself with my favourite scent until I knew I would be a walking cloud of sweetness. Hopefully something to be remembered by.

 Out the door I went after leaving some waffles for Juliet's breakfast. Way too early but it was worth it.

"—Right, let's continue where we left off before another bee decides to steal the thunder and my job. All at once." Mr Laufeyson placed away the long ruler responsible for last week's insect death, I noted that he was wearing the same coat from coming over last friday, as a round of chuckles and soft giggles in the mix, erupted at his words.

Mr Laufeyson was putting extra work into being humorous today of all days or his mood improved positively better... Possibly because of me. Because of last Friday night. Or I was getting too ahead of myself when he could've easily paid a visit to the others. Right, he's just being a good concerned teacher. As always...

Class went on like normally. And he didn't even glance at me.

. . . The hour had passed.

Hoping for the littlest of interaction after class, I sprinted the steps down to the front of the classroom. Ahead of anyone else. "Mr Laufeyson!" 

Once I stepped around the desk to properly stand before him, a perky excitement in my every movement to be upclose to him again. My expectations of mildly receiving a smile from him was shattered the second he angled his face towards me, his stiff folders collected under an arm.

"What."

 Mr Laufeyson said harshly, "—exactly do you want? My time is limited. My email is on the Google classroom, you can easily find it online to contact me. However If it's a matter you believe is urgent, see me in my office after school hours immediately."

Not expecting this... Kind of standoffish tone.

I deflated under the scrutiny of his sharp green eyes and downturned pink lips, hopes of my outfit and being noticed stomped by his quiet impatience and unusual agitation. Right, we were still in school. Why did I choose such bad timing to talk to him.

Too eager, I must've came across as desperate. Yikes.

"Okay, sir. Thanks," I gave a weak smile as he spun to leave swiftly. 

Probably not hearing me in the midst of everyone else's small chatter joining the outside noise as I adjusted the strap of my bag on my shoulder. Heart heavy but I survived.

His change in attitude was unexpected but not unwelcome. The iciness of it. A telltale sign that something or someone had bothered him. By the troubled ook of his deepened wrinkles, I guessed it must be recent— An hour or few ago, maybe— his stiff body language told me it's a personal matter.

Either I was deducing nonsense or being a kick of delusional away from acting on my deepest urge to confess my feelings.

How could I even help him?

.      .      .

𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒'𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒 - ˏ͛⑅　 ‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⋆ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　 ✦ ⑅ˏ͛ -

espresso red wine ribbon bambi cal. bitch

๛ You are not here by accident. You like it when it hurts a little. Or a lot. Either way, come and revendicate your shade. How do you know which shade is yours? Well, below you wil find the types of readers I write for. And bleed for. Find out which one you are and let me know დ

๛ Remember: you are much beloved and cherished by me. ✦

๛ Find out more about your author (me) here.

ESPRESSO.ᐟreader

₁ Fast-scrolling, and emotionally masochistic ₂ Has trauma AND a superiority complex ₃ Obsessed with mind games ₄ Would genuinely punch the character back if she would get hit ₅ Sharp-tongued ₆ Gets off on power imbalance scenes and calls it “character development” ₇ Favorite color is black. Or rust. Nothing pastel. ₈ Rage buried under control ₉ Keeps her brightness on the lowest setting. Reads the worst parts twice. ₁₀ Guilt is a second skin for her. ₁₁ She’s been through shit she’ll never type out, but my fics? They speak in her language. ₁₂ Addicted to the ache. Can’t stop chasing the darker scenes ₁₃ Eyes that haven’t slept properly in weeks ₁₄ If she doesn’t feel something brutal, she doesn’t feel at all ₁₅ One hand gripping the laptop, the other ready to throw it

RED WINE.ᐟreader

₁ Elegant but unhinged ₂ Reads slowly and feels everything deeply—quotes passages religiously. ₃ Trauma romanticizer with a soft spot for broken men who lie well ₄ Loves candlelit danger, men with blood on their hands, and slow psychological decay ₅ She notices everything. ₆ Leaves long, emotional tags in reblogs ₇ Closet sadist. Emotional devastation is foreplay. ₈ Never acts while angry or sad, admirable strenght and great posture. ₉ Has old voicemails saved she’ll never play again. ₁₀ Reads in silence, like it’s a funeral. ₁₁ Violent scenes do not shock her. Gentle ones do. ₁₂ Knows how to make excuses for people who hurt her. ₁₃ A little bitter, a little romantic, a little exhausted ₁₄ Doesn’t cry often, but when she does it’s ugly and quiet and late ₁₅ Comes to dark fiction to find something she can’t say out loud: “It’s not okay, and I’m not over it.”

RIBBON.ᐟreader

Craves pretty words and brutal truths in the same breath Was told she was too emotional—so now she bleeds in private Her playlists sound like drowning in a flower field Stares at one sentence for ten minutes like it owes her something Sees love as a tragic myth but still hopes for it Too gentle for this world, too self-aware to leave it Romanticizes her pain because it’s the only way it makes sense Sews herself back together with lyrics, dialogue, and soft terror Doesn’t want to be rescued—just understood Finds beauty in characters falling apart gracefully She’s never yelled, but her silence is deafening She wants to be hurt gently. To be ruined with care. NO ONE would guess she reads fics this dark. Reads not to escape, but to understand the ache in her ribs.

BAMBI.ᐟreader

She tells people she’s okay. She even tells herself. But she seeks out fiction that makes her heart race for all the wrong reasons. She wants to be seen, but never found. She grew up too fast and too quietly. Sleeps with a light on, but only reads in the dark. Baby face, brutal tastes Soft voice, sensitive soul but dirty imagination Carries everyone else’s weight. Fiction is where she drops it. Trauma survivor in disguise. Nobody knows what she’s seen. Reads victim-coded fics because she just understands. Wants the monster to love her just a little. She thinks if she can handle it on screen, she can handle it in real life Afraid of him, but keeps reading Flinches when voices get too loud Sleeps with the door locked Kind because no one was to her Doesn't trust happy endings

CALIFORNIA BITCH.ᐟreader

Fucks instead of crying Doesn't read warnings. Loves lollipops. Will literally not be ashamed of what she wants and supports, in fact, she would scream them from a microphone and a stage Heart of the party Requests five fics, and constantly refreshes the page to see if they got posted Gets needy and wet by just imagining the character Built like a femme fatale Looks mean, but is actually sweet. Kind of a bimbo.