Shut Up And Kiss Me (Loki x Darcy)

Epilogue: Part One

The time inevitably came when he, Loki Laufeyson, was forced to face his greatest fear. Quite literally.

Thanos was here, right in front of him, staring him in the face.
But death stared back at the God of Mischief.

He was staring death in the face.

Fleetingly he recalled the wise words of a man who'd once said "Death smiles at us all, and all we can do is smile back"

But Loki wasn't even able to do that. He couldn't even breath. The life was slowly being choked out of him, as the Titan's crushing grip held him suspended off the ground, his long legs flailing in blind desperation.

"Y-you will never be....a God." He managed, voice straining as the chokehold tightened suffocatingly.

And in that moment, the trickster's life began to flash before his eyes. Broken visions from his childhood, and the happier days of his youth on Asgard replayed like scenes on a projector in his minds eye, but it was the most recent times that brought comfort and soothed his suffering like a balm.

Three months had passed since his return to Stark's tower. Three blissful months, though the threat of Thanos had tainted his newfound happiness, clouding his every waking hour like a toxic vapour.

There had been much planning. Many long nights spent strategising as they awaited his invasion. Yet still nothing had prepared them for the onslaught of horror.

The plan had gone accordingly. Thanos and his children had been drawn into the mirror dimension, where Loki had been waiting. Well, one of his clones had been waiting. The decoy had been successful initially, until the mad Titan sensed it was an illusion.

And then the battle had begun.

Loki had fought alongside the rest of them, wielding his daggers and aiding his fellow comrades however he could.
On the battlefield he became a ruthless warrior to rival any other. Savagely slicing the throats of his enemies or inflicting lethal stabs to their gut, twisting the blade to ensure fatality. His movements were still graceful, each orchestrated move conducted with distinctive elegance.

But in spite of that, there was nothing graceful or elegant about battle.
It was utter carnage. Chaos in it's most deadly form. There was no place for gracefulness on the battlefield.

All around Loki there was individuals engaged in combat of every description.
Thor struck Thanos with lightening bolts, repeatedly being thrown back by the force of their foes' brute strength. Similarly, Stark attacked the Titan using the thrusters on his metal suit, and various other weaponised methods. The soldier was impressively strong in his own right, but not even the combined strength of all gathered were enough to fell the one who sought to wipe out half of all life.

But he was hell-bent on revenge,  determined to extinguish Loki's life first.
It was personal. Loki understood that. And it was foolish of him to have allowed himself to be caught, and now there was no hope for him.
Hope for the others, but not for him.

The hope lay with the other members of the group. Those who were capable of fighting Thanos with less conventional methods.
Such as magic and sorcery.

It would take more than brute-strength alone to kill a Titan wielding two infinity stones, and Valhalla help them if he got his hands on the rest.

The creation that was referred to as 'Vision' was most definitely a fascinating anomaly, but seeing as he was also a prime target for the Black Order, due to having an infinity stone inconveniently placed in the centre of his forehead, the Avengers were insistent on him not wading into the fray.