Monthly Archives: November 2012

iamvictor-roth:

iamthefirechild:

iamvictor-roth:

iamthefirechild:

iamvictor-roth:

“I don’t know which would be worse: being purpose-bred for power, or the accidental genetics that made me.” Quite on purpose, concealing a wicked smile, she tugged on his hair again. “Is it okay to ask how old you are?”

At the feel of her tug on his hair again his hips went down a bit and he let out a murmured “fuck”. Victor took a deep breath and mock glared at her before he lightened his expression. “Being bred for power is worse in my opinion at least.” He was startled for a moment. “My age? Uh, sure, I’m 33. I’ve been a vampire for a little over 5 years. Why do you ask?” Then he cocked his head a bit. “Do you mind if I ask how old you are?”

“At least you knew, from the start.” With a sigh, she stroked his hair, threading her fingers through at the back of his head. “I’m thirty-two. Just a year younger than you.” Summer closed her eyes, feeling suddenly old. “Come here, I want to kiss you.”

Victor leaned in and kissed her lips, nipping at her bottom lip a little bit before kissing her again. He closed his eyes and his hand wandered aimlessly from her cheek to neck to shoulder. “You’re amazing, Summer.”

Kissing Victor was really nice. His mouth fit to hers in all the right ways, there was no awkward maneuvering; just warmth and intensity. She pulled away long enough to contradict him, “I’m just me,” and kissed him again so he couldn’t answer, licking a little at his mouth.

Victor wanted to answer her but the feeling of her tongue at his mouth quickly silenced him. If he could, he would spend the entire day just laying on the couch with Summer exchanging kisses. On a whim he changed their position so that he was on his back, slightly sitting up and she was on top of him making it easier for her to lead. One of his hands wandered down to her knee while his tongue soothed the places where he had nipped her. Every now and again he got a little mischievous and he would kiss the spot below her ear but for the most part he was content to let her lead right now. 

Summer laughed a little when he rolled them over, snuggling down into his long body. She had to take a moment to loop her hair back into a lover’s knot, so it didn’t fall right into his eyes, and then spent a long moment just admiring his eyes, dark and depthless. Then she pressed her lips to his again, kissing slow and easy.

Curiosity Kills

philanthropistplayboybillionaire:

iamthefirechild:

philanthropistplayboybillionaire:

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Summer rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help smiling back. “I didn’t mean me at all. And you can stop trying to flatter me. I really do know what I look like.” She tapped a finger on her mouth, eyeing him up and down. “You didn’t answer my question, either. Do you make a habit of avoiding questions?”

Tony bobbed his head from side to side lightly. “I wouldn’t say I was, avoiding. I like to think of it as, gracefully sidestepping.” A rather sarcastic, smug grin spread across his face, as he continued to avoid the lingering question. “I’m pretty good at flattery. Especially when it comes to myself.~” The arrogant smile never left his lips.

“Ah, well, the world knows how you think of yourself, Mr Stark. But I am asking you to stop telling me pretty lies and answer a simple question. Come now, is it so hard?” Why was she even pressing the point like this, she wondered to herself. Because what /her/ ego really needed was to be squashed by Tony Stark, master playboy.

“You know what I could really go for right now? Shawarma. Love the stuff. Ever tried shawarma?” Tony took the woman by the arm and started to lead her down the sidewalk.

“Yes, actually,” Summer replied, startled into answering. “It’s not my favourite, but I like it well enough. My sister took me while we were in DC for — something.” She let him guide her, unresisting, going so far as to properly tuck her hand over his arm rather than being pulled along.

Charity Ball | @shoottothrillindustries

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iamthefirechild:

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He was so outrageous, Summer had to laugh. “All right, all right! I’m coming!” She ran down the steps past Tony, jerked open the limo door, and climbed in. “I put myself entirely in your hands, Mr Stark.”

Tony dropped into the seat beside her (careful not to land on her shoes), and closed the door. He had the driver take them back to the Tower, an idea growing in the back of his mind, and took her all the way up to the top floor.

“You’ve got to see this – think you’ll appreciate it, if anyone does,” he says, passing his bar and the still-not-repaired indent of Loki on his floor ((It now has a small plaque that reads ‘Hulk Sorry’ on it, because Tony thought it’d make family dinners less awkward. Didn’t work, but he loves it!)) to the landing deck.

Tony glanced back over his shoulder to Summer, left his shoes and inside sat on the ledge above the city. “Have a look,” he motioned towards the skyline. At this hour, with the sun almost down, it looked like the sky was on fire. Probably more because of pollution and the constant repairs being done to the skyscrapers bad guys seemed to love trashing, but nonetheless, it was pretty neat.

“Gods, that’s so beautiful,” Summer breathed. “I never have the time to really look, when we’re working, you know? But up here, just looking, I can remember why it’s worth it. Why it matters. Makes it hurt a little less.” The wind stirred some loose wisps of hair around her face, and she brushed them back.

Turning, she looked over her shoulder back into the building. “This … is your place.” Her face was a little grave as she looked back at Tony. “I, um … “ 

Tony leaned back on his palms, legs dangling loosely over the edge. He shot a glance up at Summer, feeling something a little off in her tone. He turned, tucking his foot under the opposite knee so he could face her better and tapped her leg gently.

“Yeah? What of it?”

“Well, you’re, um, who you are … ” Summer twisted her hands together in her skirts. She was starting to blush. “Why are we here, Mr Stark?”

Tony has no problems with women. No qualms about seducing and leaving, or anything in that genre. Expressing genuine affection, care or concern for others though, that’s all foreign to him. He’d learned from Pepper and Rhodey that buying gifts wasn’t always a solution, and buying someone strawberries when they’re allergic is even worse. So, he was trying sentimental gestures now (normally failing miserably without JARVIS’ assistance). Looking at Summer, and thinking of the fire in her wings – it just fit. He couldn’t explain it any other way. Of course, what came out was nowhere near so eloquent.

“Well, it’s just – you know, I’ve never shown anyone else this, and – I figured I’d share it with someone important, or someone who needed it… Reminds me of you… kind of, I’m – not the best with intentions, did I do something wrong again? Break some kind of rule?”

His fumbling explanation did a lot to ease her mind, actually. He was a lot more smooth with the women he was planning to bed and forget. “No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Summer assured Tony. “Only, you know, usually if /you/ bring a woman here, you have something different in mind than looking at the night skyline.” She linked her hands behind her back, looking up at the stars. “I didn’t,” a shrug, “expect that you … would ever … ” She trailed off, somehow unwilling to say it aloud.

iamthefirechild disturbed the dust among the tomes

arcanist-kalyra-brooken:

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“Hello… my name is Kalyra. Might I be of some assistance to you?”

Summer looks around, smiling at the sight of so many books. “I don’t know yet. I’m sorry, have I managed to get myself into someone’s private space again?”

Returning the other woman’s smile gently, Kalyra shook her head. “No, you have not,” she replied, “I fear I am a regular haunt of this library. It reminds me of all the tomes my grandmother willed me. I fear though, this library is greatly lacking in the studies of magic.”

“Oh, good.” Summer grinned at Kalyra. “I’m Summer. I do a little magic too. Maybe we can swap tips some time.”

Her tawny eyes flickered when Summer mentioned she practiced a little magic as well. “You call upon the Light?” she asked softly, almost disbelieving that there was another in this place who could call it up. 

“Oh, that’s a lovely way of putting it!” Summer clapped her hands together softly. “A little. It … wasn’t exactly my choice. I’d show you, but this is a very bad place for my sort of magic, no matter how much control I have.” Her mouth twitched a little at the girl’s disbelief, hiding a smile. 

Kalyra’s smile faded to a slightly puzzled frown. “Tis not a way of putting it, Miss Summer,” she interjected gently. “That’s what it is. For my people, at least.” Clearing her throat slightly, the Elven hybrid ducked her head slightly as she realized her words might be too forward. “Are your magics of the druidic healing sort, or have you chosen to delve into the arcane arts?”

“A little of both, really. Some of mine is inborn, and some I’ve learnt after a lot of struggle.” Only now did Summer noticed the small signs of mixed blood. Well, it didn’t make any difference to her. A poor empath she’d be if the physical weighed more than what she could read of another’s heart — and this girl was good-hearted, no doubt there.

Kalyra’s smile widened considerably when the other woman revealed her magics dabbled in a bit of both. “I fear my mother’s natural talent for the druidic magics was lost on me,” she admitted with a soft laugh that lit her tawny eyes. “I can heal only the most minor of injuries, or make larger wounds slightly less severe. My true talents lie in the arcane… much to Quinn’s dismay.” Her face fell slightly with sudden realization. “Forgive me… I fear Quinn’s regard no longer matters as he is yet in Mizran and I am… wherever I am.”

“Sounds hurtful, that. Do you want to talk about it?” Summer leaned comfortably against the edge of the table, twitching her braid over one shoulder to comb her fingers through the tail of it. “I’m a good listener.”

iamvictor-roth:

iamthefirechild:

iamvictor-roth:

“I don’t know which would be worse: being purpose-bred for power, or the accidental genetics that made me.” Quite on purpose, concealing a wicked smile, she tugged on his hair again. “Is it okay to ask how old you are?”

At the feel of her tug on his hair again his hips went down a bit and he let out a murmured “fuck”. Victor took a deep breath and mock glared at her before he lightened his expression. “Being bred for power is worse in my opinion at least.” He was startled for a moment. “My age? Uh, sure, I’m 33. I’ve been a vampire for a little over 5 years. Why do you ask?” Then he cocked his head a bit. “Do you mind if I ask how old you are?”

“At least you knew, from the start.” With a sigh, she stroked his hair, threading her fingers through at the back of his head. “I’m thirty-two. Just a year younger than you.” Summer closed her eyes, feeling suddenly old. “Come here, I want to kiss you.”

Victor leaned in and kissed her lips, nipping at her bottom lip a little bit before kissing her again. He closed his eyes and his hand wandered aimlessly from her cheek to neck to shoulder. “You’re amazing, Summer.”

Kissing Victor was really nice. His mouth fit to hers in all the right ways, there was no awkward maneuvering; just warmth and intensity. She pulled away long enough to contradict him, “I’m just me,” and kissed him again so he couldn’t answer, licking a little at his mouth.

iamthefirechild disturbed the dust among the tomes

arcanist-kalyra-brooken:

iamthefirechild:

arcanist-kalyra-brooken:

iamthefirechild:

arcanist-kalyra-brooken:

iamthefirechild:

arcanist-kalyra-brooken:

“Hello… my name is Kalyra. Might I be of some assistance to you?”

Summer looks around, smiling at the sight of so many books. “I don’t know yet. I’m sorry, have I managed to get myself into someone’s private space again?”

Returning the other woman’s smile gently, Kalyra shook her head. “No, you have not,” she replied, “I fear I am a regular haunt of this library. It reminds me of all the tomes my grandmother willed me. I fear though, this library is greatly lacking in the studies of magic.”

“Oh, good.” Summer grinned at Kalyra. “I’m Summer. I do a little magic too. Maybe we can swap tips some time.”

Her tawny eyes flickered when Summer mentioned she practiced a little magic as well. “You call upon the Light?” she asked softly, almost disbelieving that there was another in this place who could call it up. 

“Oh, that’s a lovely way of putting it!” Summer clapped her hands together softly. “A little. It … wasn’t exactly my choice. I’d show you, but this is a very bad place for my sort of magic, no matter how much control I have.” Her mouth twitched a little at the girl’s disbelief, hiding a smile. 

Kalyra’s smile faded to a slightly puzzled frown. “Tis not a way of putting it, Miss Summer,” she interjected gently. “That’s what it is. For my people, at least.” Clearing her throat slightly, the Elven hybrid ducked her head slightly as she realized her words might be too forward. “Are your magics of the druidic healing sort, or have you chosen to delve into the arcane arts?”

“A little of both, really. Some of mine is inborn, and some I’ve learnt after a lot of struggle.” Only now did Summer noticed the small signs of mixed blood. Well, it didn’t make any difference to her. A poor empath she’d be if the physical weighed more than what she could read of another’s heart — and this girl was good-hearted, no doubt there.

iamvictor-roth:

“I don’t know which would be worse: being purpose-bred for power, or the accidental genetics that made me.” Quite on purpose, concealing a wicked smile, she tugged on his hair again. “Is it okay to ask how old you are?”

At the feel of her tug on his hair again his hips went down a bit and he let out a murmured “fuck”. Victor took a deep breath and mock glared at her before he lightened his expression. “Being bred for power is worse in my opinion at least.” He was startled for a moment. “My age? Uh, sure, I’m 33. I’ve been a vampire for a little over 5 years. Why do you ask?” Then he cocked his head a bit. “Do you mind if I ask how old you are?”

“At least you knew, from the start.” With a sigh, she stroked his hair, threading her fingers through at the back of his head. “I’m thirty-two. Just a year younger than you.” Summer closed her eyes, feeling suddenly old. “Come here, I want to kiss you.”

Gallery

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This scene will forever give me shivers

THE most underrated scene in the entire movie. It was perfect. And do you know how often I see gif sets of it? This is the second one I’ve seen since the movie came out (It’s been over 5 months, now).

So let’s just pause for a moment from reblogging gifs of Tony’s sass, Loki’s sex appeal, or Bruce’s fluffiness and just appreciate this nameless, old, German guy and how, even though he knew he would probably die, he stood up to a tyrant to prove that the human race wouldn’t give up their freedom so easily.

emily why the fuck you think it necessary to give me these feels

Seeing as that took place in Germany, think that there’s no better place that that scene could have taken place in. Givin’ the time frame, he or his parents could have easily lived through WWII. They bowed to a tyrant once; Never again.
Learn from your elders people- let him be an example.

Friendly reminder that he implied that he was a Holocaust survivor.

^^^ THAT ^^^

The INSTANT he stood up I knew he was a Holocaust survivor and it gave me huge chills.

Another twist I’ve heard on this scene as that this man was a former Nazi, and that he understood that he had aided a tyrant and spent the rest of his life trying to make up for it. And that’s why he sounds so sad and resigned when he says “there are always men like you.” Because he was one.

In a way it kind of parallels the red in Natasha’s ledger, and Thor’s guilt for somehow pushing his brother into madness AND almost causing an interdimensional war, and Tony’s method of taking the easy way out, and Bruce’s bloody green record, and Clint’s compromise, and Steve’s lost past and uncertain future; everyone is running from their demons and trying to atone.

It’s a powerful scene no matter who the man is — whether he’s former Nazi, Jewish survivor, or simply someone who watched more or less helplessly as his beloved country marched into a war no one could possibly win. He could be speaking of Hitler from any number of perspectives, including that of wishing he had stood up before during the War.

It’s even possible that he’s not referring to Hitler at all, but to any one or more of the very prominent and powerful men of that age, including Churchill or Mussolini. Maybe he is speaking from the perspective of a soldier who saw his unit die in one of the many horrible battles; or the perspective of a Jewish sympathizer like those who hid Anne Frank; or the perspective of a former Nazi underling; or the perspective of a Jewish Holocaust survivor; or the perspective of a Pole who saw his country fall in the first engagements of the War.

It doesn’t matter, really. What makes the scene so powerful is that he could be any of those, could have any kind of terrible history — all we really know is that he is old enough to have lived through the War. And like Steve, it left marks on everyone. So he stands up, and draws his line. Not again, he says, for whatever reason.