#( ideate ). loki

[gravityslingshot]

[gravityslingshot]

a playlist.

[1nm2]

The book should hold there, his wrist folding and fingers curling shut in a deathly grip to remind him that wisdom and patience were so seldom sought and with peace between the two of them long dried, a pathetic name was brother. The god of thunder takes what he can, and till he can’t, he’ll be blissful at every turn of the season, tending to the needy cries of every little human instead.

But Loki lets it slip right of out his hand.

His face cracks into a brilliant soft laugh, each crinkle pinching the corners of his eyes. The cut of humour, not mischief.

His Seidr hides the numerous wisps of red in their presence. They grow like strange fractals around them, the air odourless. Something new.

With other than his literal eyeballs, Thor will never be privy to the black dimension, the world Loki himself wouldn’t willingly traverse. Thor will never feel the wind of seidr, nor see its lustrous hues or its greenlit skies and the fingers of peaceful chaos that has latched around his essence and had him commune for days. If home were a place, it was no longer Asgard.

‘  --That I cannot escape the fate I’ve spun? If it’s never occurred to you……my reputation of lies was built on a hundred years of honesty, not lies.  ‘    They’ve come to eye level now.

But why come here at all? They had nothing in common, nothing else after Frigga’s death. Why pain them both, stretching out such wishful longing to reminisce over what could not be, only to prolong what a child often dreamed of—whose memory only blanked at scenes of gore.

The sack of meat is struggling in its skin to breathe. Thor is… mere bulk without the cause. Ham.

There is, with the most he can muster, just a pinch of concern in his voice.

‘ Did Mother look well, at least? Just as she was alive. ‘

[1nm2]