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"You're perfect, my muse."
"I hate how wrong you are, God of Mischief."
"Not as wrong as your religion."
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Loki was a simple god who enjoyed the average, or more than average, mischief. He liked seeing the chaos that unfolded at the flick of his wrist, watching the multiverse take steps closer to collapsing all because of him; he adored the chaos, he hated perfection, and he liked the mess.
On the other side of the multiverse, Adam was the epitome of perfection, being genetically modified and born to endure world domination, known only as "Him," later coined Adam Warlock; though the cocooned spirit was never truly a warlock as much as he was a man. Adam never truly identified with the label of perfection he was given, but as much as he loathed it, he knew he would be shunned by his family and community if he dared to defy his God-given role. Adam had endured more than enough lashes and screams to know better than to be anything less than perfect, even if he knew it was wrong from the beginning. It wasn't unlike Adam to want a bit of chaos in his life besides the regular that he had gotten used to: the fights, the prayers he'd have to answer to, or the threats of death he received if he couldn't perform a task for some odd reason. Adam wasn't allowed rest or to be tired. His people needed him in his golden glory, like the sun on a dreary, gloomy day that nobody wanted to endure, but they didn't want to offer anything of value to have clear skies. Adam didn't have anyone to rely on—unlike his people, to whom he was at every beck and call, every plea and cry, and then some.
Adam stared at his reflection with disdain, wishing he was somehow, someway, somebody else for a change. He didn't mind what it entailed, whether it be having womanly curves or having nothing at all; Adam wished for a break, a change in routine. There's a certain longing in his eyes that he's seen slowly fade as the centuries passed. Adam's shoulders tensed, his body shivering with untouched cold. His calloused hands twitched as they reached forward, fingers grazing the mirror, the cracks, and the clouds. Adam's head tilted back, his lips twitched as if he himself wanted to pray and beg some higher power to take him out of this body that is not his own. Was Adam even a 'he'? What would Adam be if not for the detrimental need for a higher power to look up to? Only time, and Adam's thoughts, would tell. Adam's hand fell, though not to the side, but to the small table beside the mirror. Adam's eyes fell onto a silver bangle that had basically been thrown at the god for being too sharp and accidentally puncturing one of the children's wrists. Adam picked up the bangle, twisting and turning it between Adam's golden fingers, studying the inherent simplicity of its nature, how it could exist being made of only one material and serving one purpose: to look pretty. It was one of the purposes that Adam had inherently realized was supposed to be fulfilled; though it hurt to realize the golden man was candy to the eyes and an easy way out of problems, Adam knew it was the duty to protect, as even the cosmos didn't agree Adam deserved a life. Once Adam had fully examined the simple bangle, he took the end to one wrist; it didn't puncture the skin; just grazing against the golden skin was enough to make Adam hiss and drop the bangle. It was compulsive and impulsive, the mind awry as if Adam was on substances, but Adam wasn't. Adam would rather abandon the people than rely on humanity's sins.
Adam stared down at the growing red mark on the inside of the right wrist, staining the veins temporarily. Adam's breath came out in short pants, both hands falling onto the mirror, clenching the glass as if it was an IV bag. This is wrong. Adam thought, I am perfect, day in and day out. If I think wrong, I will be abandoned. Adam was shaky, trembling. The vision in both eyes blurred as the golden one stumbled forward, slamming into the mirror as it shattered. Glass rained on Adam, piercing the perfect skin Adam sought to protect. Tears flooded Adam's eyes as the man bled. There was nobody to come to Adam's rescue, so taking out the glass himself was the only solution. Adam stumbled back, falling onto the place of rest; silken sheets and cotton pillows. The white fabric was stained with flowing blood as each shard was slowly plucked out and healed in seconds. Adam knew this was wrong, that if any of the people found out that the perfect glory that was the Warlock bloodline was tainted, they would riot, anarchy would ensue, and Adam would surely be dead, hung by his staff with lungs pulled out like wings of valor. Adam twitched like a rusted machine, as if something was wrong inside. I cannot breathe, where are my lungs? Adam thoughts raced, then Adam coughed, energy depleted almost entirely, and so the cocooned one crawled underneath cover after cover. Adam felt like a newborn, searching for warmth as he groaned, shifted, and prayed that nobody would find any imperfections. Though now as Adam lay, going unconscious almost immediately, Adam questioned everything that the people stood for.
───〃★
While Loki was viewing different worlds, he heard the thud of a body landing. Loki's head whipped around, the beads in his long, braided hair making an audible clacking sound once they ricocheted. "Who goes there?" Loki asked in his usual smug tone, though with a hint of confusion. Loki walked over, having to squint due to the brightness of the man. "Where have you come from, Muspelheim?" Loki asked, referring to the realm of blazing heat, which would also explain the beauty of the man. "Muspelheim?" The man asked in a hoarse tone, sitting up slightly, with wide eyes, "Is that you, God of Mischief?" He asked, making Loki scoff, "Clearly, idiot." Loki sneered, "Now, which face do you know me from?" Loki questioned, making the man tilt his head, "I... Do not know what you mean, Loki." He mutters, making Loki scoff in annoyance, "Tell me, golden one. Who are you?" He pressed, making the man lean away with hesitation. "I am..." He paused. "Adam Warlock, Avatar of Life." Adam spoke hesitantly, making Loki's eyes gleam, "Ah, the golden boy from Knowhere." Loki leaned over Adam, noting his features. "I hope you know you have managed to dream yourself far, far away from your comfortable life. You are in Asgard, my realm, whether Hela or," Loki groans, "Thor, like it or not." Loki murmured, rolling his eyes. "Though you don't look very ... man-like." Loki pointed out Adam's softened features, less broad shoulders, making Adam do a once-over of themself. "You... Did you do this?" Adam asked wearily, though no malice was behind his tone, Adam enjoyed this far too much than they should, but being stuck in the body of a genetically-perfect man? It make Adam sick. "No, Adam. You're dreaming, if you're too dumb to tell." Loki said, leaning back on his throne he had manifested.
Adam thought quietly, "A dream, so I am asleep."
"Asleep, to where you can be what you truly want to be. Fascinating, right?"
Adam was quiet. "Am I bound to the chains of being a man here, Loki?" Adam asked in a broken tone, hands going to feel the softness of their jawline.
"Not a man, you can simply be what you desire. A... being of many faces."
Adam stared wide-eyed, "How am I not being rioted over? My.. people would surely execute me if I dared talk about my problems. I am perfect, after all."
Loki laughed, "Because you are not the ruler here, its simple. You are asleep with no consequences. Now tell me, dear perfect one," Loki crooned, leaning over Adam. "Are you truly happy with the body you have been given?" Loki asks, "The... masculinity of it." Loki explains, as Adam was quiet. "I... do not know. I am perfect for the people--" Adam went to say, before being shushed. "Cut it with the martyrdom, Warlock. Tell me, are you a man, a woman, or are you.. there?" Loki asks, making Adam's eyes widen, "Are you insinuating I'm..." Adam pauses, the word stuck in his throat, "Transgender?" Adam whispers the word as if it were a curse, as if it would kill his people.
Loki shrugs, "You tell me."
Adam blinks, suddenly feeling trapped inside a box, his breathing came short, as short as the leash his people kept him on. "I don't feel.. right in my body, but it is easier for me to stay as a man, for otherwise my people will hate me, and I will have nothing." Adam repeated like a mantra, making Loki laugh.
"You are so intertwined in their thoughts, but did you know? They do not see you for anything besides a meatsack, a punching bag and a well of goodness they want to drain." Loki said honestly, making Adam go quiet.
"...Stop, stop this--" Adam begs, his vision blurred.
"I know how you feel, Adam, I am one of many faces; some male, some female, some animal." Loki said honestly, "Whichever form you decide to take, I will be there for you. Remember that." Loki promised, reaching a hand out to cup Adam's cheek, "You are perfect for me; male, female, feline, canine, I do not care."
Adam's lips parted to speak, their head leaning into Loki's cold, frost giant palm.
"Please do not let go." Adam begs, a stray tear falling down a golden cheek.
"I must. You cannot stay. People need you."
───〃★
Adam's shaky eyes opened mechanically, skin cold from the lack of touch. Adam craved Loki, even if the touch of the other man-- being-- was as cold as Adam is right now. Desperate for touch again, Adam tried to fall back asleep, but it was as if Loki was forbidding him to visit Asgard again, making Adam live without the Frost Giant as if that dream had never happened. Now Adam felt as helpless as the people who looked up to the golden one for guidance. Adam went to get up, doing a minute routine, before leaving the quarters, almost immediately being bombarded with wishes and begging, along with duties for the day that consist of zero alone time.
"Oh please sir Warlock, help us!" The people cried out, practically falling to Adam's feet as the being wanted to hurl at the use of 'sir'. Though Adam shook it off, and sighed. "What do you require of me, mortal?" Adam asked, "Our child, she believes she was born to be a man!" The woman, seemingly a mother said in a panicked tone. That struck a chord within Adam, making the deity remember the conversation they had with Loki. I am one of many faces; some male, some female, some animal. You are perfect for me; male, female, feline, canine, I do not care.
Adam swallowed, "That is not right. Bring her to me at once," Adam orders, eyes narrow once the teen was brought into the prayer room. She was short, with a broader build with an obvious attempt to hide the feminine curves over baggy clothing and layers of training bras. "I know you." Adam said quietly, "You are a man to me," Adam said simply, "A real man. Unlike the man who helped create you." Adam adds.
The boy stood tall with wide eyes, "You... Aren't going to change me?" He asked, making Adam give a simple shake of the head.
"You needn't change, you are perfect the way you are. They may not accept you, but I do." Adam promised, before waving the boy away, tears filling the childs eyes as he departs.
this fic will not be finished, due to lack of motivation
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fin.
