lokilaufeyyson:

i-am-the-firechild:

lokilaufeyyson:

i-am-the-firechild:

Wanting to bury her face in her hands, Summer settled for closing her eyes for a moment. “I … jumped to a conclusion, there. Sorry.” She tried to laugh. “I thought you knew all my weaknesses before we started, Loki. Isn’t that what you said?”

She looked back, green eyes to green eyes. “Can you care for someone who will always know if you truly do or not? That’s the sticking point for so many, you see, luv.”

Loki took her hand in both of his and gently lifted it to his heart.  He pressed her fingers to him and held her gaze as steadily as he could.  It was often hard for him to maintain eye contact, considering he was usually being deceitful.  

Not this time, though.

“Feel it, then.  Sift through my lies.  What do you see, fire child?”

Her eyes went half-lidded and distant, fingers flexing against his hold. “Loneliness,” she breathed. “Hope, such hope. Relief … and gratitude.” A silence that seemed long, but truly lasted only a few swift breaths. “Love.”

The word was almost inaudible.

“You do care. Why?”

A small smile played over his face.  ”Why not?”  Still holding her hand, he led her back towards the city.

“I am only cruel when it suits me, you know.  And now, I must bid you goodnight.  Tomorrow, we will decide how to defeat Thanos.  There is much to think on.”  His voice was distant now.

“So much for mischief,” she murmured. It would be a cold shower for her, surviving all that and then going in to his heart right after. Damn empathy anyway. Damn it and all its stupid side effects.

With a sigh and a gesture, she dismissed the accoutrements of a comfortable evening and allowed Loki to lead her where he would.

lokilaufeyyson:

i-am-the-firechild:

lokilaufeyyson:

i-am-the-firechild:

“No!” She flung herself down on the beanbag. “Don’t call me that. Don’t ever. I’m not a lady. I’m not special. You wanted company, you wanted to play at desire, and that was fine, okay. Don’t play with my emotions. I’ll give you desire, I’ll give you mischief, hell, I’ll even drive off your monsters, but don’t /play/ with my heart, mister.”

“You misunderstand,” Loki furrows his brow, confused.  Here was a being who took flight with her emotions more than even he had, before…He waved those thoughts away.

“I have heard of your kind, Summer.  Fire child.  I have heard whispers of belittling words, ideas in the backs of minds of your inferiority.  Your weaknesses.  Do not think me ignorant to them.”

He wrapped his hands around her arms, gripping her tightly, forcing her to look at him.

“But do not think I listen to such things.  I don’t give a damn what you are born being, each of us can choose what we become ourselves.”  He faltered for a moment.  Can’t we?

Wanting to bury her face in her hands, Summer settled for closing her eyes for a moment. “I … jumped to a conclusion, there. Sorry.” She tried to laugh. “I thought you knew all my weaknesses before we started, Loki. Isn’t that what you said?”

She looked back, green eyes to green eyes. “Can you care for someone who will always know if you truly do or not? That’s the sticking point for so many, you see, luv.”

Loki took her hand in both of his and gently lifted it to his heart.  He pressed her fingers to him and held her gaze as steadily as he could.  It was often hard for him to maintain eye contact, considering he was usually being deceitful.  

Not this time, though.

“Feel it, then.  Sift through my lies.  What do you see, fire child?”

Her eyes went half-lidded and distant, fingers flexing against his hold. “Loneliness,” she breathed. “Hope, such hope. Relief … and gratitude.” A silence that seemed long, but truly lasted only a few swift breaths. “Love.”

The word was almost inaudible.

“You do care. Why?”

lokilaufeyyson:

i-am-the-firechild:

lokilaufeyyson:

“Why ever not?” he said, pulling back and looking her in the eye.  ”Why shouldn’t I?”  He felt all at once very out of control.  Was that dawn, fading in behind the sky?   “My lady…” He stepped away, paced anxiously as he smoothed his features back under control.

“No!” She flung herself down on the beanbag. “Don’t call me that. Don’t ever. I’m not a lady. I’m not special. You wanted company, you wanted to play at desire, and that was fine, okay. Don’t play with my emotions. I’ll give you desire, I’ll give you mischief, hell, I’ll even drive off your monsters, but don’t /play/ with my heart, mister.”

“You misunderstand,” Loki furrows his brow, confused.  Here was a being who took flight with her emotions more than even he had, before…He waved those thoughts away.

“I have heard of your kind, Summer.  Fire child.  I have heard whispers of belittling words, ideas in the backs of minds of your inferiority.  Your weaknesses.  Do not think me ignorant to them.”

He wrapped his hands around her arms, gripping her tightly, forcing her to look at him.

“But do not think I listen to such things.  I don’t give a damn what you are born being, each of us can choose what we become ourselves.”  He faltered for a moment.  Can’t we?

Wanting to bury her face in her hands, Summer settled for closing her eyes for a moment. “I … jumped to a conclusion, there. Sorry.” She tried to laugh. “I thought you knew all my weaknesses before we started, Loki. Isn’t that what you said?”

She looked back, green eyes to green eyes. “Can you care for someone who will always know if you truly do or not? That’s the sticking point for so many, you see, luv.”

lokilaufeyyson:

i-am-the-firechild:

lokilaufeyyson:

i-am-the-firechild:

lokilaufeyyson:

i-am-the-firechild:

“D-don’t,” she managed, once the seizure had run its course. “C-can feel that too. Ah god it /hurts/!” Biting her lip, she strained against a resurgence, fists clenched. “‘s not your fault, L-loki. I called it … t-to me. Should have ex—expected this.” Every breath shuddered in and out, shaped by force of will.

Finally, finally, the spasms ran their course, and she sagged against him, limp and aching. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” she whispered.

His hands reached out towards her face, shaking a bit.  He pulled them back to hide that unfortunate weakness.  ”No, I should not have involved you in my…” he shook his head.  ”Please…what can I do?” he asked quietly.  Helplessness was not something he could tolerate. 

Summer rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the lingering ache. “Are you good enough to give me a massage? I’ll beg, if you want. Gods, OW.” A swift circling of her head on her neck yielding a series of pops and a sigh of relief. “And don’t let me hear you telling me what to choose again. I could have let you go. Remember that, and don’t say you involved me.

“If nothing else, please just hold me for a moment, and let me pretend you care.”

Loki said nothing to that, only frowned.  For some unknown reason, he was bothered by his reputation; that was a first.

Careful hands worked over her shoulders, down her back, gently gathering her hair out of the way, and then he was holding her to him, quietly.  Like it or not, he had involved her.  And he had been involved with worse.

Summer stifled whimpers when he hit particularly sore points, burying her face in his chest. After a moment, she came back up for air, and murmured, “Let me guess. You think I said that because of who you are.” Her voice was a little raspy, a little tired. “You think, because you’re the ‘God of Lies’,” the quote marks were audible, “I believe you can’t care.”

Suddenly, she was hugging him, fiercely. “Did I not say, about your light? Of course you can care.” Muffled against him, she added, very low, “But no one cares about a firechild.”

“Why ever not?” he said, pulling back and looking her in the eye.  ”Why shouldn’t I?”  He felt all at once very out of control.  Was that dawn, fading in behind the sky?   “My lady…” He stepped away, paced anxiously as he smoothed his features back under control.

“No!” She flung herself down on the beanbag. “Don’t call me that. Don’t ever. I’m not a lady. I’m not special. You wanted company, you wanted to play at desire, and that was fine, okay. Don’t play with my emotions. I’ll give you desire, I’ll give you mischief, hell, I’ll even drive off your monsters, but don’t /play/ with my heart, mister.”

lokilaufeyyson:

i-am-the-firechild:

lokilaufeyyson:

i-am-the-firechild:

“Mother of unholy things!” Summer swore. “Gods of all th—” The paroxysm seized her unawares, jerking her spine into a bowed arc and clamping her teeth together on the end of the phrase. One hand, clawed with tension, reached out, flailing at nothing. Her breath hissed out between her teeth, choking on a cry.

Loki’s gaze turned desperate as he clutched at her.  ”Summer!” he demanded, frenzied.  ”Summer, come back to me!”  If he panicked, that would be worse, wouldn’t it? She would feel it…

He forced himself to calm down and held her closer.  ”I’m so sorry…” he muttered, beginning to feel the familiar pangs of self-loathing.

“D-don’t,” she managed, once the seizure had run its course. “C-can feel that too. Ah god it /hurts/!” Biting her lip, she strained against a resurgence, fists clenched. “‘s not your fault, L-loki. I called it … t-to me. Should have ex—expected this.” Every breath shuddered in and out, shaped by force of will.

Finally, finally, the spasms ran their course, and she sagged against him, limp and aching. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” she whispered.

His hands reached out towards her face, shaking a bit.  He pulled them back to hide that unfortunate weakness.  ”No, I should not have involved you in my…” he shook his head.  ”Please…what can I do?” he asked quietly.  Helplessness was not something he could tolerate. 

Summer rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the lingering ache. “Are you good enough to give me a massage? I’ll beg, if you want. Gods, OW.” A swift circling of her head on her neck yielding a series of pops and a sigh of relief. “And don’t let me hear you telling me what to choose again. I could have let you go. Remember that, and don’t say you involved me.

“If nothing else, please just hold me for a moment, and let me pretend you care.”

lokilaufeyyson:

i-am-the-firechild:

lokilaufeyyson:

i-am-the-firechild:

Too late for ‘should have’s. Summer hurled herself forward, desperately grasping for skin contact. “Give me your hands!” she hissed, dragging and dragging at the emotions she’d been trying to shut out only the moment before. Every shield she’d ever constructed would have to pale in comparison to this one, so she fed the fire inside with everything she could reach — and flung it around both of them.

“You shall /not/ have him again,” she growled, eyes wide and unseeing.

Loki’s eyes rolled wildly as he tensed all over.  He felt heat—unbearable heat—spread over and around him.  It burned like a wild fever killing off his infection.  He felt the connection to Thanos weakening, but not before he heard the words grate through his mind:

I will be back for both of you…

He snarled and snapped back into consciousness, gripping onto Summer like a madman.  He struggled to catch his breath.  ”What must I do?” he managed finally.

“Mother of unholy things!” Summer swore. “Gods of all th—” The paroxysm seized her unawares, jerking her spine into a bowed arc and clamping her teeth together on the end of the phrase. One hand, clawed with tension, reached out, flailing at nothing. Her breath hissed out between her teeth, choking on a cry.

Loki’s gaze turned desperate as he clutched at her.  ”Summer!” he demanded, frenzied.  ”Summer, come back to me!”  If he panicked, that would be worse, wouldn’t it? She would feel it…

He forced himself to calm down and held her closer.  ”I’m so sorry…” he muttered, beginning to feel the familiar pangs of self-loathing.

“D-don’t,” she managed, once the seizure had run its course. “C-can feel that too. Ah god it /hurts/!” Biting her lip, she strained against a resurgence, fists clenched. “‘s not your fault, L-loki. I called it … t-to me. Should have ex—expected this.” Every breath shuddered in and out, shaped by force of will.

Finally, finally, the spasms ran their course, and she sagged against him, limp and aching. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” she whispered.

lokilaufeyyson:

i-am-the-firechild:

lokilaufeyyson:

i-am-the-firechild:

“So it’s you who needs his inhibitions lowered,” she laughed softly. “Shall I climb you like a tree, or will you come down to me?” Every other word was punctuated by the touch of her mouth on skin: throat, collarbone, pulsepoint, jawline.

He smiled into the kiss and turned her so she leaned against the wall.  ”We could…possibly…” And then, a searing pain shot through his being and he stumbled backwards, gripping hands through his hair wildly.  

He hissed in pain, and tried to block the inevitable; Thanos was pulling at his mind, trying to transport Loki into his presence.  But he would not go without a fight.

“He’s…agh!  He’s in my mind again!” He growled to Summer, as if she could do something.

Too late for ‘should have’s. Summer hurled herself forward, desperately grasping for skin contact. “Give me your hands!” she hissed, dragging and dragging at the emotions she’d been trying to shut out only the moment before. Every shield she’d ever constructed would have to pale in comparison to this one, so she fed the fire inside with everything she could reach — and flung it around both of them.

“You shall /not/ have him again,” she growled, eyes wide and unseeing.

Loki’s eyes rolled wildly as he tensed all over.  He felt heat—unbearable heat—spread over and around him.  It burned like a wild fever killing off his infection.  He felt the connection to Thanos weakening, but not before he heard the words grate through his mind:

I will be back for both of you…

He snarled and snapped back into consciousness, gripping onto Summer like a madman.  He struggled to catch his breath.  ”What must I do?” he managed finally.

“Mother of unholy things!” Summer swore. “Gods of all th—” The paroxysm seized her unawares, jerking her spine into a bowed arc and clamping her teeth together on the end of the phrase. One hand, clawed with tension, reached out, flailing at nothing. Her breath hissed out between her teeth, choking on a cry.

lokilaufeyyson:

i-am-the-firechild:

the-loki-laufeyson:

i-am-the-firechild:

“Such a shadow must be thrown by a powerful light,” she responded. Her fingers curled into his scalp. “Let’s go find it, shall we?” Stretching up on her tiptoes, reaching with her whole body up the height difference, she pulled his head down and brushed her lips over his. “Forget destruction,” she whispered into his mouth. “Try creation.”

Loki mentally counted the drinks he had taken and used that to excuse himself falling into her embrace, kissing her hesitantly, then more and more forcefully.  His hands pressed against the small of her back, and he revelled in the pressure of her slight body against his.  He felt as if perhaps he had been bewitched; an enchantress possibly?  Powerful magic…?  He didn’t honestly care at the moment.  A faint sense of heat glowed from her, and he tasted it eagerly. 

“So it’s you who needs his inhibitions lowered,” she laughed softly. “Shall I climb you like a tree, or will you come down to me?” Every other word was punctuated by the touch of her mouth on skin: throat, collarbone, pulsepoint, jawline.

He smiled into the kiss and turned her so she leaned against the wall.  ”We could…possibly…” And then, a searing pain shot through his being and he stumbled backwards, gripping hands through his hair wildly.  

He hissed in pain, and tried to block the inevitable; Thanos was pulling at his mind, trying to transport Loki into his presence.  But he would not go without a fight.

“He’s…agh!  He’s in my mind again!” He growled to Summer, as if she could do something.

Too late for ‘should have’s. Summer hurled herself forward, desperately grasping for skin contact. “Give me your hands!” she hissed, dragging and dragging at the emotions she’d been trying to shut out only the moment before. Every shield she’d ever constructed would have to pale in comparison to this one, so she fed the fire inside with everything she could reach — and flung it around both of them.

“You shall /not/ have him again,” she growled, eyes wide and unseeing.