Tag Archives: kingoftheravens

It’s one of those gorgeous lucid dreams — the kind where a part of her is awake, struggling to hold on to what she sees. She’s dreaming of a wood: unfamiliar, old growth, wide spaces beneath the tall trees. And there is Loki, on the edge of the glade.

She doesn’t know which Loki; she knows so many, now. He changes, in that way that dreams do; now heartbreakingly young, now subtly marked with the weight of millennia. Always tall, so tall. Long hair, short hair; armoured, casual.

She cannot see his face. If she could see it, she might know — is she here for love, or hate? To die, or live?

In a dream, it could easily be both. Or neither.

She calls his name.

kingoftheravens:

iamthefirechild:

[Says the pretty god with the black, black eyes. That is a fantastic level of annoyance.]

I know what I said and what I said is truth. If I say I wasn’t intending to be “mean and scary” then I wasn’t intending to be. Or are you as dimwitted as this first impression is telling me you are?

I am not pretty, thank you. I know not how a hulking mass of muscle such as myself is even remotely “pretty.” You are irking and I care not for your words.

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[Oooh, I like how you’re telling me what to think. Temper, temper. I’ll call you pretty if I think you are pretty.]

kingoftheravens:

iamthefirechild replied to your post:“[*pester, bug, poke, nag*]”
[*rolls eyes* Oh, you’re so mean and frightening.]

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It was not my intention to be “mean and frightening” just then. Annoyance is but a distant cousin to the two, that is what I was expressing.

[Says the pretty god with the black, black eyes. That is a fantastic level of annoyance.]

kingoftheravens:

iamthefirechild replied to your post:“™¥”
Thanks so very fucking much. Should’ve kept my mouth shut.

Excuse me?

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Do you want me to fall to my knees and profess my undying, clearly nonexistent love for you? Do you want me to pinch your cheeks, pat your head, and say how adorable you are? Do you want me to pull you close and whisper sweet nothings in your ear? What the fuck were you expecting? This isn’t a fucking fairy tale. Get out of here. Get out of my sight.

You are just bloody /brilliant/ at jumping to conclusions, aren’t you!? I didn’t ask for any of that, but it might have been nice not to be looked at like some kind of /bug/, either! I might not be your /equal/, but I’m not — fuck. No, okay? Just no. You don’t get to treat me like I’m lower than dirt, and you don’t get to send me away.

kingoftheravens:

iamthefirechild:

Two flames danced, and Summer couldn’t help smiling. “You hear me. You forgive me?” What was it she’d done differently this time, from all the other times? She’d claimed Loki as her patron god for years and never had any kind of response before.

“Won’t you show yourself?” She racked her brain, trying to think what she had that might entice a god known to be a bit fickle. “I have … ” There was that bottle of whiskey she’d bought to give to her twin. She could always get another one. “I have a bottle of white label Dickel whiskey for you,” she coaxed.

Whoever this stranger was, he didn’t know her. It was easy for him to know when another was devoting their time to him, especially nowadays when he had no one really worshipping him. And yet she spoke to him like he was an old friend of sorts. Difficult to be one’s patron when he never gave permission for it, much less never knew about her. Gods chose whom they were the patron of, individuals weren’t supposed to choose one themselves. Then again, perhaps she was just a new Lokean.

Showing himself, though, was completely out of the option. This one was a stranger to him and, again, he only showed himself in dreams or when the individual astral traveled. Never did he appear to one in the real verse in his true form. There was also the fact that he was four weeks clean and couldn’t drink. The offering was nice and he willingly accepted it, but nothing more. Abruptly, the candles stopped moving, his own silent way of saying no.

The candleflames stilled, and Summer slumped. “I guess that means no.” Well, at least she didn’t have to buy another bottle of whiskey, but it was still disappointing. The whole thing was like the first time she’d made a spell that actually worked — a lot of excitement and surprise over something small and mysterious. Now that she couldn’t get any further response, it felt like a letdown, despite the sheer miraculousness of the whole thing.

Her mouth twisted in a self-deprecating smile. “Well, thank you,” she said, softly. “I don’t know how I deserved your attention suddenly, but I’m glad of it. So thank you.” Quick brushes of her fingers put out the candles, hands lingering over the north candle. She wanted to say thank you again, but somehow the words just didn’t seem enough.

For the first time in a long time, she couldn’t sleep easily that night. The events of her little ceremony kept buzzing around in her head long after she would normally have been asleep. Finally, finally, she slid over the edge into dreamland, images of Loki floating through her imagination.