Tag Archives: rp: loki and the firechild

Loki and the firechild

lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

Surprise jolted new energy into Summer’s blood. The kiss itself wasn’t entirely unexpected; the god of mischief and lies would surely manipulate by attraction. He’d already tried it on her, just before Thanos’ first attack, after all.

No, the surprise came from his motivation.

The adrenaline, the touch, the kiss … it all heterodyned in a dizzying surge of desire. She hummed softly, low in her throat, and looped an arm about Loki’s shoulders. One kiss stolen, one kiss given — when he tried to pull away, she pushed upward and kissed him, with no caution at all.

Loki fought back a surge of panic when he felt himself giving into her embrace.  Why would she think she still owed him anything?  It was wrong to take so much.  He felt wrong.  But he could not stop himself gathering her up to him, deepening the kiss.  She felt like fire spreading through him, warm and uncontrollable.  When his hands slid under her shirt and made contact with smooth skin, he pulled back as if he had really been burned.

He drew in a sharp intake of breath, battling himself.  Too many battles for one evening, he thought bitterly.  Trying desperately to focus on her eyes, all he could see, suddenly, was the life leaving Thanos as he twisted the spear in his heart.  The blood.  The look of utter torture on Summer’s face as she saved his life…

“I cannot…I cannot make you do this…” he muttered, scrambling to his feet.

Summer gaped as Loki backed away in haste. Too many responses crowded her mouth, jostling for escape. All she managed was a pitiful “aah?”

Staring up at the ceiling, lost in shadows, she tried to breathe, tried not to curl around the hurt. Rejected, again. No matter what she did, no matter what she said. Swallowing past the lump of incipient tears in her throat, she rolled over on her side, trying to hide her face, and murmured, carefully, “Would it be too much trouble for me to ask for something to eat?”

“Yes.  No!  No, of course.  Yes of course.”

What kind of babbling idiot have I become?

Loki scrambled from the room and through the palace corridors until he got to the kitchen.  As he scooped up an armful of bread and cheese, he asked himself over and over what was the matter.  Somehow the only thought his mind seemed capable of processing was “make sure Summer is alright.”  He wanted her to be happy.  To be well.

To be his.

He also wished he had any kind of skill at cooking, because perhaps he could have brought something better.  What a spoiled childhood he had had.  He burst back into the room and was suddenly terrified at the mere sight of Summer’s hands twirled through her hair as she lay on the bed.  He definitely needed to do something about the way his senses were betraying him.

“Here you are.  I’m sorry, it isn’t much…” he lay the basket down beside her and tried to focus his eyes somewhere else.  He studied the curtains shuddering in the breeze from the cracked open window.

“This is perfect.” Summer tried to sit up and fell back, yanked down by her own hair trapped under her body. It provoked a little giggle as she wrested the long strands free, finally managing to get to an upright position. One hand came up with bread and the other cheese, and she alternated between the two for a moment.

Immediate hunger and energy-loss satisfied, Summer cast a glance at Loki. “You’re free now,” she said. “Why are you still tangled? I thought you would be happy now.” One hand reached toward him, fingers spread. “But … that’s despair, and self-hatred, anxiety, desire … and fear.”

He looked back at her, eyes bright and pained.  ”Would you stop that?” he managed a light laugh.  He caught her fingers and twined them with his own.  ”Just for a moment, be fooled by my facades.”

He waited until she had eaten her fill and then put the basket away.  ”I must…I am going to rest, now.”

You are free now.

He moved towards his own bed, around a corner, and could not stop himself from glancing back at her, trying to read her gaze.  And then he lay down and curled up on himself, shaking with confliction in the darkened room.

Why are you still tangled?

She watched him out of sight, and a blink sent cold tears rolling down her cheeks. Angrily she wiped them away, hating herself. Every time, every time, she deceived herself, fooling herself into believing it would be different. She’d warned him, but failed to heed her own words. Can you care for someone who will always know if you truly do or not?

Be fooled by my facades. How could she? Knowing what lay underneath, that great, scarred heart … oh, he tried to ward it with ice, just as she did her own with fire, but she’d always be someone he couldn’t fool, and that was its own sort of pain.

The tears wouldn’t stop falling, blurring her vision and choking her throat, and finally she gave up trying to stop crying and just tried not to make any noise.

[[EXCUSE ME WHILE I DIE OF FEELS let’s start a new post tomorrow? <3]

[[FEEEEEEEEELS Helios reminds you that tomorrow his mommy will be out playing with her family so the new post may be unattended until Sunday night. Also, fluff. My music player says the next chapter/post should be titled “This isn’t everything you are”.]]

Loki and the firechild

lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

Surprise jolted new energy into Summer’s blood. The kiss itself wasn’t entirely unexpected; the god of mischief and lies would surely manipulate by attraction. He’d already tried it on her, just before Thanos’ first attack, after all.

No, the surprise came from his motivation.

The adrenaline, the touch, the kiss … it all heterodyned in a dizzying surge of desire. She hummed softly, low in her throat, and looped an arm about Loki’s shoulders. One kiss stolen, one kiss given — when he tried to pull away, she pushed upward and kissed him, with no caution at all.

Loki fought back a surge of panic when he felt himself giving into her embrace.  Why would she think she still owed him anything?  It was wrong to take so much.  He felt wrong.  But he could not stop himself gathering her up to him, deepening the kiss.  She felt like fire spreading through him, warm and uncontrollable.  When his hands slid under her shirt and made contact with smooth skin, he pulled back as if he had really been burned.

He drew in a sharp intake of breath, battling himself.  Too many battles for one evening, he thought bitterly.  Trying desperately to focus on her eyes, all he could see, suddenly, was the life leaving Thanos as he twisted the spear in his heart.  The blood.  The look of utter torture on Summer’s face as she saved his life…

“I cannot…I cannot make you do this…” he muttered, scrambling to his feet.

Summer gaped as Loki backed away in haste. Too many responses crowded her mouth, jostling for escape. All she managed was a pitiful “aah?”

Staring up at the ceiling, lost in shadows, she tried to breathe, tried not to curl around the hurt. Rejected, again. No matter what she did, no matter what she said. Swallowing past the lump of incipient tears in her throat, she rolled over on her side, trying to hide her face, and murmured, carefully, “Would it be too much trouble for me to ask for something to eat?”

“Yes.  No!  No, of course.  Yes of course.”

What kind of babbling idiot have I become?

Loki scrambled from the room and through the palace corridors until he got to the kitchen.  As he scooped up an armful of bread and cheese, he asked himself over and over what was the matter.  Somehow the only thought his mind seemed capable of processing was “make sure Summer is alright.”  He wanted her to be happy.  To be well.

To be his.

He also wished he had any kind of skill at cooking, because perhaps he could have brought something better.  What a spoiled childhood he had had.  He burst back into the room and was suddenly terrified at the mere sight of Summer’s hands twirled through her hair as she lay on the bed.  He definitely needed to do something about the way his senses were betraying him.

“Here you are.  I’m sorry, it isn’t much…” he lay the basket down beside her and tried to focus his eyes somewhere else.  He studied the curtains shuddering in the breeze from the cracked open window.

“This is perfect.” Summer tried to sit up and fell back, yanked down by her own hair trapped under her body. It provoked a little giggle as she wrested the long strands free, finally managing to get to an upright position. One hand came up with bread and the other cheese, and she alternated between the two for a moment.

Immediate hunger and energy-loss satisfied, Summer cast a glance at Loki. “You’re free now,” she said. “Why are you still tangled? I thought you would be happy now.” One hand reached toward him, fingers spread. “But … that’s despair, and self-hatred, anxiety, desire … and fear.”

He looked back at her, eyes bright and pained.  ”Would you stop that?” he managed a light laugh.  He caught her fingers and twined them with his own.  ”Just for a moment, be fooled by my facades.”

He waited until she had eaten her fill and then put the basket away.  ”I must…I am going to rest, now.”

You are free now.

He moved towards his own bed, around a corner, and could not stop himself from glancing back at her, trying to read her gaze.  And then he lay down and curled up on himself, shaking with confliction in the darkened room.

Why are you still tangled?

She watched him out of sight, and a blink sent cold tears rolling down her cheeks. Angrily she wiped them away, hating herself. Every time, every time, she deceived herself, fooling herself into believing it would be different. She’d warned him, but failed to heed her own words. Can you care for someone who will always know if you truly do or not?

Be fooled by my facades. How could she? Knowing what lay underneath, that great, scarred heart … oh, he tried to ward it with ice, just as she did her own with fire, but she’d always be someone he couldn’t fool, and that was its own sort of pain.

The tears wouldn’t stop falling, blurring her vision and choking her throat, and finally she gave up trying to stop crying and just tried not to make any noise.

Loki and the firechild

lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

Surprise jolted new energy into Summer’s blood. The kiss itself wasn’t entirely unexpected; the god of mischief and lies would surely manipulate by attraction. He’d already tried it on her, just before Thanos’ first attack, after all.

No, the surprise came from his motivation.

The adrenaline, the touch, the kiss … it all heterodyned in a dizzying surge of desire. She hummed softly, low in her throat, and looped an arm about Loki’s shoulders. One kiss stolen, one kiss given — when he tried to pull away, she pushed upward and kissed him, with no caution at all.

Loki fought back a surge of panic when he felt himself giving into her embrace.  Why would she think she still owed him anything?  It was wrong to take so much.  He felt wrong.  But he could not stop himself gathering her up to him, deepening the kiss.  She felt like fire spreading through him, warm and uncontrollable.  When his hands slid under her shirt and made contact with smooth skin, he pulled back as if he had really been burned.

He drew in a sharp intake of breath, battling himself.  Too many battles for one evening, he thought bitterly.  Trying desperately to focus on her eyes, all he could see, suddenly, was the life leaving Thanos as he twisted the spear in his heart.  The blood.  The look of utter torture on Summer’s face as she saved his life…

“I cannot…I cannot make you do this…” he muttered, scrambling to his feet.

Summer gaped as Loki backed away in haste. Too many responses crowded her mouth, jostling for escape. All she managed was a pitiful “aah?”

Staring up at the ceiling, lost in shadows, she tried to breathe, tried not to curl around the hurt. Rejected, again. No matter what she did, no matter what she said. Swallowing past the lump of incipient tears in her throat, she rolled over on her side, trying to hide her face, and murmured, carefully, “Would it be too much trouble for me to ask for something to eat?”

“Yes.  No!  No, of course.  Yes of course.”

What kind of babbling idiot have I become?

Loki scrambled from the room and through the palace corridors until he got to the kitchen.  As he scooped up an armful of bread and cheese, he asked himself over and over what was the matter.  Somehow the only thought his mind seemed capable of processing was “make sure Summer is alright.”  He wanted her to be happy.  To be well.

To be his.

He also wished he had any kind of skill at cooking, because perhaps he could have brought something better.  What a spoiled childhood he had had.  He burst back into the room and was suddenly terrified at the mere sight of Summer’s hands twirled through her hair as she lay on the bed.  He definitely needed to do something about the way his senses were betraying him.

“Here you are.  I’m sorry, it isn’t much…” he lay the basket down beside her and tried to focus his eyes somewhere else.  He studied the curtains shuddering in the breeze from the cracked open window.

“This is perfect.” Summer tried to sit up and fell back, yanked down by her own hair trapped under her body. It provoked a little giggle as she wrested the long strands free, finally managing to get to an upright position. One hand came up with bread and the other cheese, and she alternated between the two for a moment.

Immediate hunger and energy-loss satisfied, Summer cast a glance at Loki. “You’re free now,” she said. “Why are you still tangled? I thought you would be happy now.” One hand reached toward him, fingers spread. “But … that’s despair, and self-hatred, anxiety, desire … and fear.”

Loki and the firechild

lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

lokilaufeyyson:

He curled long fingers around hers and dropped her hand back down, sternly.  ”I am no fool,” he murmured low, and began working at the buckles of her armour.  ”What you did for me was beyond anything…” he unlaced her boots, slipping them off delicately. “No one has ever been so strong at my side….”  He slipped off her bracers, one by one.  ”I am not sure why I even asked you to come with me.  And yet I knew that you would.  I hardly know you, Summer, yet I knew, somehow…” he gently lifted her up as he took off her chest piece and lay her back down under him.  He felt his blood rushing through his veins and it was unnerving. 

“Why would you do that for me?  Did you expect a grand reward, perhaps?” he slid his fingers through a piece of her hair, toying with her to lessen the heaviness of the moment.

“You asked.” Her smile was simple and sweet, unclouded by any other thing. “You showed me your pain, and you asked for help.” She snuggled a bit deeper into the blankets, letting her arms flop wide. “It’s what I do, Loki.” With a quick touch of fingers on his, she let him feel what she was feeling. “I care.

“I’m not really powerful or anything, I just … care. About people. About their hurting. You’re free now.”

“That is a powerful thing.  It is also dangerous, you know,” he said, and ghosted his fingers over her cheek.  ”You know this.”

He was mesmerized then by how her eyes seemed to glow faintly, as if backlit.  The room was dim and she was a flame even so.  To have someone care for him…to fight for him, beside him, by his command…it was more than humbling.  It was crippling.  He had no idea how to handle it.  How could he ever thank her for caring?

Leaning down to her lips, he stole a small, careful kiss.

Surprise jolted new energy into Summer’s blood. The kiss itself wasn’t entirely unexpected; the god of mischief and lies would surely manipulate by attraction. He’d already tried it on her, just before Thanos’ first attack, after all.

No, the surprise came from his motivation.

The adrenaline, the touch, the kiss … it all heterodyned in a dizzying surge of desire. She hummed softly, low in her throat, and looped an arm about Loki’s shoulders. One kiss stolen, one kiss given — when he tried to pull away, she pushed upward and kissed him, with no caution at all.

Loki fought back a surge of panic when he felt himself giving into her embrace.  Why would she think she still owed him anything?  It was wrong to take so much.  He felt wrong.  But he could not stop himself gathering her up to him, deepening the kiss.  She felt like fire spreading through him, warm and uncontrollable.  When his hands slid under her shirt and made contact with smooth skin, he pulled back as if he had really been burned.

He drew in a sharp intake of breath, battling himself.  Too many battles for one evening, he thought bitterly.  Trying desperately to focus on her eyes, all he could see, suddenly, was the life leaving Thanos as he twisted the spear in his heart.  The blood.  The look of utter torture on Summer’s face as she saved his life…

“I cannot…I cannot make you do this…” he muttered, scrambling to his feet.

Summer gaped as Loki backed away in haste. Too many responses crowded her mouth, jostling for escape. All she managed was a pitiful “aah?”

Staring up at the ceiling, lost in shadows, she tried to breathe, tried not to curl around the hurt. Rejected, again. No matter what she did, no matter what she said. Swallowing past the lump of incipient tears in her throat, she rolled over on her side, trying to hide her face, and murmured, carefully, “Would it be too much trouble for me to ask for something to eat?”

Loki and the firechild

lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

Half-aware of being carried, Summer roused enough to blink at Loki as they entered his rooms. “Where … ?” she managed, trying to look around. “This … ” She flailed a hand loosely.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he tried to sound nonchalant, laying her on the guest bed.  The room was luxuriously furnished and decorated with a sort of organized chaos; papers and books everywhere, a small pile of rune stones on a desk, a tall window with heavy drapes blocking out any view, some sort of tangle of device parts in one corner, as if Loki worked as an inventor in his spare time.  He paid no attention to the clutter as he shoved random objects aside as he lay her down.

“I did not know where you lived, so I brought you here.  And I insist you stay until you have recovered.”  His voice was catching.  He wasn’t sure what was the matter with him.  He suddenly wanted to be rid of her, to be alone with his guilt, drown in his own selfishness.

The old lemonade taste of remorse washed through her mind. Summer managed a grimace, and raised a hand to Loki’s face. “Loki? I’m okay. Promise.” The hand trembled a little. “It’s a sugar crash, okay? What I do takes energy, that’s all. Shh, darlin’.” A little smile curled her lips. Here she was, shaking with lack of energy, and trying to comfort him. How funny.

How familiar.

A little stroke of his cheek, and she let her hand fall. “Can you … help me out a bit? Out of my armour, at least?”

He curled long fingers around hers and dropped her hand back down, sternly.  ”I am no fool,” he murmured low, and began working at the buckles of her armour.  ”What you did for me was beyond anything…” he unlaced her boots, slipping them off delicately. “No one has ever been so strong at my side….”  He slipped off her bracers, one by one.  ”I am not sure why I even asked you to come with me.  And yet I knew that you would.  I hardly know you, Summer, yet I knew, somehow…” he gently lifted her up as he took off her chest piece and lay her back down under him.  He felt his blood rushing through his veins and it was unnerving. 

“Why would you do that for me?  Did you expect a grand reward, perhaps?” he slid his fingers through a piece of her hair, toying with her to lessen the heaviness of the moment.

“You asked.” Her smile was simple and sweet, unclouded by any other thing. “You showed me your pain, and you asked for help.” She snuggled a bit deeper into the blankets, letting her arms flop wide. “It’s what I do, Loki.” With a quick touch of fingers on his, she let him feel what she was feeling. “I care.

“I’m not really powerful or anything, I just … care. About people. About their hurting. You’re free now.”

“That is a powerful thing.  It is also dangerous, you know,” he said, and ghosted his fingers over her cheek.  ”You know this.”

He was mesmerized then by how her eyes seemed to glow faintly, as if backlit.  The room was dim and she was a flame even so.  To have someone care for him…to fight for him, beside him, by his command…it was more than humbling.  It was crippling.  He had no idea how to handle it.  How could he ever thank her for caring?

Leaning down to her lips, he stole a small, careful kiss.

Surprise jolted new energy into Summer’s blood. The kiss itself wasn’t entirely unexpected; the god of mischief and lies would surely manipulate by attraction. He’d already tried it on her, just before Thanos’ first attack, after all.

No, the surprise came from his motivation.

The adrenaline, the touch, the kiss … it all heterodyned in a dizzying surge of desire. She hummed softly, low in her throat, and looped an arm about Loki’s shoulders. One kiss stolen, one kiss given — when he tried to pull away, she pushed upward and kissed him, with no caution at all.

Loki and the firechild

lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

Half-aware of being carried, Summer roused enough to blink at Loki as they entered his rooms. “Where … ?” she managed, trying to look around. “This … ” She flailed a hand loosely.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he tried to sound nonchalant, laying her on the guest bed.  The room was luxuriously furnished and decorated with a sort of organized chaos; papers and books everywhere, a small pile of rune stones on a desk, a tall window with heavy drapes blocking out any view, some sort of tangle of device parts in one corner, as if Loki worked as an inventor in his spare time.  He paid no attention to the clutter as he shoved random objects aside as he lay her down.

“I did not know where you lived, so I brought you here.  And I insist you stay until you have recovered.”  His voice was catching.  He wasn’t sure what was the matter with him.  He suddenly wanted to be rid of her, to be alone with his guilt, drown in his own selfishness.

The old lemonade taste of remorse washed through her mind. Summer managed a grimace, and raised a hand to Loki’s face. “Loki? I’m okay. Promise.” The hand trembled a little. “It’s a sugar crash, okay? What I do takes energy, that’s all. Shh, darlin’.” A little smile curled her lips. Here she was, shaking with lack of energy, and trying to comfort him. How funny.

How familiar.

A little stroke of his cheek, and she let her hand fall. “Can you … help me out a bit? Out of my armour, at least?”

He curled long fingers around hers and dropped her hand back down, sternly.  ”I am no fool,” he murmured low, and began working at the buckles of her armour.  ”What you did for me was beyond anything…” he unlaced her boots, slipping them off delicately. “No one has ever been so strong at my side….”  He slipped off her bracers, one by one.  ”I am not sure why I even asked you to come with me.  And yet I knew that you would.  I hardly know you, Summer, yet I knew, somehow…” he gently lifted her up as he took off her chest piece and lay her back down under him.  He felt his blood rushing through his veins and it was unnerving. 

“Why would you do that for me?  Did you expect a grand reward, perhaps?” he slid his fingers through a piece of her hair, toying with her to lessen the heaviness of the moment.

“You asked.” Her smile was simple and sweet, unclouded by any other thing. “You showed me your pain, and you asked for help.” She snuggled a bit deeper into the blankets, letting her arms flop wide. “It’s what I do, Loki.” With a quick touch of fingers on his, she let him feel what she was feeling. “I care.

“I’m not really powerful or anything, I just … care. About people. About their hurting. You’re free now.”

Loki and the firechild

lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

Wincing as she put a hand on her own hair, Summer slapped a palm upward against the device. “Then I’m an idiot. You should’ve trusted me.” But her eyelids were flickering with exhaustion, and she could feel muscle tremors on the edges of her awareness.

After a pull of light and pressure, they were back on the edge of the bridge in Asgard.  

Loki stepped back from her and waved his hands to mask the device again, and it was gone.  The two of them stood safe and successful.  

In a flurry of thought, Loki wasn’t certain if he wanted to hug her or go drink mead and sing war songs with her.  Or perhaps he would just catch her as she fainted.  

Summer’s head lay back in his arms and he stroked her rebellious hair from her face as he looked down at her.  Even in sleep, he could see the pain behind her features.  He could feel the edged pulse and burn of the flames still within her delicate frame.  What a fair facade, he thought, to house something so powerful and great within such lovely vessel.  He pressed a fevered kiss to her forehead, thankful for a moment where such actions would not be noted.  He had a reputation, after all.

Then he carried her the rest of the way to his chambers.

Half-aware of being carried, Summer roused enough to blink at Loki as they entered his rooms. “Where … ?” she managed, trying to look around. “This … ” She flailed a hand loosely.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he tried to sound nonchalant, laying her on the guest bed.  The room was luxuriously furnished and decorated with a sort of organized chaos; papers and books everywhere, a small pile of rune stones on a desk, a tall window with heavy drapes blocking out any view, some sort of tangle of device parts in one corner, as if Loki worked as an inventor in his spare time.  He paid no attention to the clutter as he shoved random objects aside as he lay her down.

“I did not know where you lived, so I brought you here.  And I insist you stay until you have recovered.”  His voice was catching.  He wasn’t sure what was the matter with him.  He suddenly wanted to be rid of her, to be alone with his guilt, drown in his own selfishness.

The old lemonade taste of remorse washed through her mind. Summer managed a grimace, and raised a hand to Loki’s face. “Loki? I’m okay. Promise.” The hand trembled a little. “It’s a sugar crash, okay? What I do takes energy, that’s all. Shh, darlin’.” A little smile curled her lips. Here she was, shaking with lack of energy, and trying to comfort him. How funny.

How familiar.

A little stroke of his cheek, and she let her hand fall. “Can you … help me out a bit? Out of my armour, at least?”

Loki and the firechild

lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

Anger and pain, rage and cruelty … they poured through her in a never ending flood, and Summer clenched her hands into fists, unconsciously weeping with the burn of it. They were fighting now; she could almost see it behind her eyes.

Almost wasn’t enough. She dropped lower, then lower, eyes half-lidded and moving solely on the line of emotions. Something barred her path, and she shoved fire into it until it exploded from pure heat, and another, and then cool stone lay beneath her feet, and Loki held a giant being at bay, cruelty dripping off him like water after rain.

“I can kill you, Thanos,” Loki whispered, holding him down with a ray of light from the spear.  ”I can kill you because now I have real reason to.  You have threatened not only me, but another, innocent.”  He plunged the spear into his chest, and narrowed his eyes, almost smiling, when Thanos screamed out in pain.  ”And I am not always without sentiment.”  He twisted the blade.

Summer’s scream echoed Thanos’. The pain was beyond outrageous. She dropped to the floor, bracing herself on hands and knees, breathing hard. “Don’t — play, Loki,” she gritted. “I’m in his — mind.” Clawing one hand off the floor, she shaped the pain into an enormous, swirling fireball, and flung it at Thanos.

Loki raised his eyebrows and stepped back slowly as the mass of flame hit its target.  He ripped the spear from the creature and watched proudly as he clutched at his own body, life leaving him, until finally he was still.  It was done, then.  A great hiss of air left his lungs in an exhale he did not know he had been holding back.  For a moment, the entirety of this forsaken place seemed to be still, resting, emptied of all action.  Loki turned slowly and allowed his eyes to focus on Summer, staring at her reverently.  He said volumes with that look.

And then the sound of an approaching army did a rather successful job of breaking the moment.

“I would suggest we run.”

Staggering to her feet, Summer clutched her arms around herself, trying to hold herself together. Tears ran down her face unnoticed. “Go first, then. I can fly. Go!” The last was a shout, over her shoulder, as she turned to face the direction of the sound. Wisps of fire began to swirl around her form again, even with arms locked tight around her shoulders and feet planted wide for balance.

Death chimed up and down her bones, making them sing out in cruel arpeggios. Summer wanted to be out of here, wanted to be home, safe, up to her neck in literal hot water and not metaphorical.

Wanted the pain to stop, wanted to believe Loki had listened to her.

Wanted to believe what his last look had implied.

Staring into the darkness, she held her ground, giving him time to escape.

Loki’s limbs locked up and he 2`tr0yho [[my cat really wants to contribute]] was conflicted in a way that was familiar and painful.  Summer was weak, and she was in pain, and it was his fault.  He had brought her into this.  Could he leave her?  Could he flee and save himself and leave her to her own devices?

“I…I can’t…are you strong enough?” his voice was too small, and they were losing time.  She didn’t look strong enough.

[hihi Jack. good boy Jack. precious fluffy kitty.]

“I have to be, don’t I?” she flung over her shoulder. “The longer you wait, the less chance I have. So either go, now, and trust me to catch up, or get over here and work that device again!”

The rising heat around her made her hair dance in wild abandon, and she took a deep breath, flinging her arms wide. “Come and get me, you bastards!” Summer screamed into the shadows, which abruptly shot long and dark away from her as her hands filled with flame.

Loki and the firechild

lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

Summer turned the little knife over, then shoved it into the top of her boot. Wings flaring, she leaped for the shrouded sky, latched on to that beacon of terrible cruelty, and pulled, dumping the emotions back out as a rain of fire as fast as possible.

It hurt. Gods, it burned, not like familiar fire, but like acid, like freezing, like pain beyond pain. She wanted to vomit, channelling those emotions; she wanted to curl up into a ball and scream her anguish to the high heavens. Instead she gritted her teeth and held on, spinning a whirling cocoon of flame about herself, and loosing spits and flares of fire in all directions.

Loki darted into the lower entrance, knowing the way by instinct of his cruel memories.  He knew he was being fueled by pure hatred and rage and he didn’t care in the slightest.  He swore he could feel Summer’s energy above him, he could feel the heat and the pinpricks of sensation all over his body.  

He would owe her a lot for this.

Thanos was slouched over an oversized throne in a posture that was eerily familiar to the fallen prince of Asgard.  He drew in a quick hiss of air, and they locked eyes.  ”Do you feel that?” He snarled, before Thanos could say a word.  ”That is my secret weapon.  Tell me, what do you feel?”  He materialized a long spear and spun it swiftly across Thanos’s face, drawing blood.  

He glared back at Loki, bearing his teeth.  ”Laufeyson, you dare…challenge me?  I, who own your mind, and all the worlds?”  There was a catch in his voice though, and Loki could hear it.  He was weak. 

Loki threw a frenzied disarming spell over him, and grinned a sickening smile when he saw it taking hold.  Just enough time to play with his catch.  He found himself wishing Summer was there to see…

Anger and pain, rage and cruelty … they poured through her in a never ending flood, and Summer clenched her hands into fists, unconsciously weeping with the burn of it. They were fighting now; she could almost see it behind her eyes.

Almost wasn’t enough. She dropped lower, then lower, eyes half-lidded and moving solely on the line of emotions. Something barred her path, and she shoved fire into it until it exploded from pure heat, and another, and then cool stone lay beneath her feet, and Loki held a giant being at bay, cruelty dripping off him like water after rain.

“I can kill you, Thanos,” Loki whispered, holding him down with a ray of light from the spear.  ”I can kill you because now I have real reason to.  You have threatened not only me, but another, innocent.”  He plunged the spear into his chest, and narrowed his eyes, almost smiling, when Thanos screamed out in pain.  ”And I am not always without sentiment.”  He twisted the blade.

Summer’s scream echoed Thanos’. The pain was beyond outrageous. She dropped to the floor, bracing herself on hands and knees, breathing hard. “Don’t — play, Loki,” she gritted. “I’m in his — mind.” Clawing one hand off the floor, she shaped the pain into an enormous, swirling fireball, and flung it at Thanos.

Loki and the firechild

lokilaufeyyson:

iamthefirechild:

lokilaufeyyson:

i-am-the-firechild:

She drew in a deep breath. This was Loki. God of Mischief. The demi-god who had nearly destroyed New York City.

A man who, this whole time, had only asked. Not demanded, or commanded, but asked.

She poured out confidence and strength. ”What do you need me to do?”

A small smile quirked at the edges of his lips.  He handed her a knife.  ”What you do best.  Display your incredible gifts.”  He knew she would understand.  ”Here,” he murmured, dragging a finger down her throat, sending a cool antidote into her lungs.  Then he threw forth the full blast of his spell, growling ancient words into the sky.  A thick storm cloud gathered over the fortress, throwing all into a confusion of gray, mottled darkness even more absolute than before.  ”Now, we attack while they are weak.”

Summer turned the little knife over, then shoved it into the top of her boot. Wings flaring, she leaped for the shrouded sky, latched on to that beacon of terrible cruelty, and pulled, dumping the emotions back out as a rain of fire as fast as possible.

It hurt. Gods, it burned, not like familiar fire, but like acid, like freezing, like pain beyond pain. She wanted to vomit, channelling those emotions; she wanted to curl up into a ball and scream her anguish to the high heavens. Instead she gritted her teeth and held on, spinning a whirling cocoon of flame about herself, and loosing spits and flares of fire in all directions.

Loki darted into the lower entrance, knowing the way by instinct of his cruel memories.  He knew he was being fueled by pure hatred and rage and he didn’t care in the slightest.  He swore he could feel Summer’s energy above him, he could feel the heat and the pinpricks of sensation all over his body.  

He would owe her a lot for this.

Thanos was slouched over an oversized throne in a posture that was eerily familiar to the fallen prince of Asgard.  He drew in a quick hiss of air, and they locked eyes.  ”Do you feel that?” He snarled, before Thanos could say a word.  ”That is my secret weapon.  Tell me, what do you feel?”  He materialized a long spear and spun it swiftly across Thanos’s face, drawing blood.  

He glared back at Loki, bearing his teeth.  ”Laufeyson, you dare…challenge me?  I, who own your mind, and all the worlds?”  There was a catch in his voice though, and Loki could hear it.  He was weak. 

Loki threw a frenzied disarming spell over him, and grinned a sickening smile when he saw it taking hold.  Just enough time to play with his catch.  He found himself wishing Summer was there to see…

Anger and pain, rage and cruelty … they poured through her in a never ending flood, and Summer clenched her hands into fists, unconsciously weeping with the burn of it. They were fighting now; she could almost see it behind her eyes.

Almost wasn’t enough. She dropped lower, then lower, eyes half-lidded and moving solely on the line of emotions. Something barred her path, and she shoved fire into it until it exploded from pure heat, and another, and then cool stone lay beneath her feet, and Loki held a giant being at bay, cruelty dripping off him like water after rain.