#boltforged

[benevolentgodloki]

@boltforged if you’d like to continue this

It’s not the tenth, or thirtieth, or the hundredth time his brother has turned his gaze toward him with anger shining in it. Usually it’s tempered with something else, some hurt or cunning, and he’s much quicker at masking it than Thor is. But he knows the look, knows every inch of Loki’s body when he’s tense and shaking with rage.

There’s no disguising his fury now.

Thor is pushed with no ceremony against a large glass panel of the Statesman, Loki snarling in his throat as he does so. Rarely does Loki use his strength like this, mostly because it pales in comparison to his own (Loki has always been strong in ways that physical prowess need not dictate, ways that Thor himself will never know), but he does so now.

Thor provides no resistance. He imagines there are plenty of causes for his brother’s ire, and they’ve always been more physical in their dealings with one another (perhaps Loki believes him a poor listener which, a mere ten years ago wouldn’t have been off the mark).

“Go ahead,” Thor says, suddenly spurned. They’ve been on this ship, a haven (a prison), for just over a week and he’s barely slept, he can’t stop moving, and his brother’s forearm brings a familiar fire to his blood. He wants to be screamed at, wants someone to hate him for the things he’s wrought. Their home is gone - surely it’s enough cause.

It’s a betrayal of how deeply this rage runs that Loki resorts to the action. Now, after everything, when there is so little left about Thor to hate, when the only people remaining that Loki can possibly hate are too powerful for him to wish to face or they look back at him from the mirror, it should not make sense. But he’s burning, his very core screaming out, because this is how his heart knows to be expressed. He has forgotten how to frame genuine words of tenderness, of apology, of the desperate pit of loneliness he has inhabited for the last decade. All he knows is to trust himself and that trust is shattering in the changing of his course. He’s losing faith in the rewards he can claim and he loathes this new/old dependence he feels for his brother.

Even now as he digs his arm into Thor’s collarbone, another hand raised in a fist – a fist free of knives, for this is no murder attempt – he is afraid of losing this one bond. So why is it that this fear drives him to something that risks breaking it? Does he want to force it to break, to rid himself of Thor’s love completely, like it had been threatened on Sakaar? Will that give him control over the agony of wondering when his brother would stop to reflect on all of his mistakes and cast him out, perhaps even deliver him to Thanos with a wave?

This lack of resistance is only a further wound. What reason does Thor have to let him attack? Is he inviting just cause to be rid of him? Loki is blinded to the concept that Thor, perfect, dutiful, full-hearted Thor Odinson, might be taking the burden of the past few days as his own. He chose to have Asgard destroyed, but Loki lit the fire.

A further bestial cry leaves the younger god’s throat as he tugs his brother away from the wall only to slam him back against it, hands clawing for his face. His nails don’t scratch, however, his crooked fingertips simply cupping Thor’s face halfway between something precious and a thing to be crushed. Tears shine in Loki’s eyes, reminiscent of the day he snarled that they were not related.

“Why did you want me back?” he howls. “After everything I’ve done, everything I’ve destroyed? I was free. With them I was their joy; respected; welcome. By your side I am a curse, an undesirable shade that Asgard must stomach. How long will their gratitude keep me in their favour?”

[princesssparklefists]

The great thing about deep space was — actually, there were a lot of great things about deep space. At the moment, one great thing about deep space was the view. Carol's ship was caught in a gentle orbit, being slowly passed like a hot potato between two brightly glowing knots of gas. All around them, the billowing clouds of colorful gas and dust formed magnificent swirls and blooms, like dropping ink into water, peppered with points of light. It was almost enough to make her linger a bit longer just to stare.

When her HUD informed her of a distress signal less than two parsecs away, the cosmic equivalent of down the hallway, it was almost like the universe had nudged her on the shoulder and politely requested that she get off her ass. Navigating through the gathering disk of rock and dust around the protostars took longer than the trip itself, but all together it took roughly an hour before she was killing the engines and letting her ship drift toward its destination. 

To say she was unprepared for the sight was an understatement. Remnants of a massive vessel littered the space around Carol's ship, but her attention wasn't on the wreckage — she was already out of her seat. Suspended in the vacuum of space, in among the twisted metal and debris, were corpses, all of them humanoid. A girl who couldn't have been older than twenty drifted past the nose of Carol's vessel, her long skirt in a motionless billow as if she had been plucked from a single moment on a windy day and suspended forever in emptiness

"Scan for survivors. If you find any, mark them on my helmet."

'Captain, I'm unable to find any thermal anomalies on the wreckage. There are no scorch marks or signs of structural damage to the metal. Currently, there is no known force that could have caused this sort of damage to the craft without vaporizing its passengers or  spreading debris across a dozen parsecs.'

Carol didn't respond. On her HUD, one of the bodies drifting eerily through the void had lit up like a Christmas tree. His vital signs were weak, but surprisingly not as bad as they should have been. By the time she reached him, she could hear Harrison harping on in her ear, reminding her that if there had been an attack, the attackers may still be nearby. She didn't respond. The survivor was huge, but he wasn't difficult to lift and to carry back to her ship. The size of the ship being what it was, Carol didn't have a proper infirmary, so once she had gotten him on board, she headed straight for her own cot.

"Hope you're not allergic to cats," she muttered as she laid him flat and turned one of his hulking arms over. On the inside of his elbow, then his wrist, she placed two small metal circles. It was Kree tech and he wasn't Kree, but it was that or Band-Aids. "Harrison, scan him and wake him."

'As you say, Captain.'

For the man on the cot, a sudden rush of adrenaline, the sensation of falling out of a dream. 

          — @boltforged

[spiderlingman]

You know that little voice that people have that tells them to quit when they're ahead? You don't have one!

Road to El Dorado

“—What?! I literally did exactly what you told me to do! You can’t blame my common sense when I’m following your plan to just ‘jump in and do your spider thing while I taze people!’”

[benevolentgodloki]

@boltforged continued from here

Amidst the waves of stars winking past the Statesman, Thor dwells. He isn’t trying to, but it’s hard doing anything else.

Asgard is aboard a floating tomb unless they manage to find more resources. Their food count was low when they’d left, and it had harbored healing bodies for five days now; they needed to stop somewhere and refuel yesterday.

He’s looking at an outdated star system when his door opens nearly soundlessly, and Thor looks up to find his brother in the doorway, eyebrow cocked.

“I don’t think any amount of staring at that map is going to change our circumstances, brother,” Loki says, and Thor rakes his hand through his butchered locks, scratching at his scalp and hissing when his nail finds a half healed cut.

“Yes, well,” he says, but realizes he doesn’t actually know what he was going to say, so he lets the words hang between them.

The silence stretches from seconds to minutes, and Thor finally rises, stretching his back loose of the aches caused by sitting still for so long. He grabs Loki’s wrist in a grip that’s easy to break and tugs him fully into his chamber, over to the bed where he sits heavily on the edge. Loki mirrors him, but sits gently, for everything he does is calmer, more elegant. He is watching Thor carefully, as if expecting him to start yelling, or maybe crying.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Thor says, because it’s what comes to his head, and he’s tired of saying anything else. They don’t have time for layered interactions, to parse through half-truths. Taking Loki’s hand and marveling at the feel of it, thin but solid, Thor rubs a thumb over the scraped knuckles he finds.

“Thank you,” he confesses, a quiet thing, before pressing a kiss to those knuckles.

It was dreamlike, the way Loki allowed Thor to guide him by the wrist, like an old memory in their youth when an excitable golden child scrambled to bring his brother to his room to show him the findings of the day’s adventures. This was not the same, for it was slow and steeped in a different kind of emotion. After all these years there was so much to be said and the god of mischief found it as difficult as Thor to know which things were necessary or had priority. Perhaps he should take another look at the map. All those places he had visited years ago, all those worlds Thor must have sought out in search of the Stones, surely there was something out there they had omitted?

For now, though, Loki could not bring himself to move, even if habit told him to spout an excuse and leave. The knowledge that Thor wanted him here, by his side, was like an open wound that he somehow masochistically never desired to heal. Loki had always been a passionate creature, save for the one feeling he had closed to his brother for so long. Now it felt as though he might burst from it, not least at the touch he dearly missed.

He wanted to say something, but nothing felt adequate. I had nowhere else to go. That would have been both pathetic and offensive. You’re welcome. Too aloof, though a strong lead. I missed you. Too needy? Too little, too late?

“This is Asgard,” he said at last. “It mattered.”

[spiderlingman]

@boltforged from (x)

Peter grins, going a little cross eyed as Thor tugs on his hair. They must make quite the picture — with Peter hanging upside down from the ceiling, both of them tugging on each other’s hair like monkeys. 

Spider monkey, and massive blond gorilla caught having a friendly exchange in the wild. 

Or the Avengers compound?

“Would it grow out blond? Or would it be darker, like you have it now?” These are all questions worth asking.

[talentedliarloki]

You're mine.

Send “You’re Mine” for my muse’s reaction to yours being possessive of them.

          Surrounded on all sides and perspiring as every escape route narrowed out of reach, Loki shot knives from his sleeves that found homes in the nearest throats with ease. Those at close range of him were greeted with blades in their bellies and crimson stained the ground in a broad perimeter around the trickster.

         But he was beginning to tire, his aim was starting to waver, and his pulse was drumming in his ears. The initial wave of calvary was mowed down, but there came another charging over the horizon; however, this one bore different colors, was flying different banners…

         Asgardians, Loki sighed, but he’d not called for aid.

         With his attention was briefly occupied, leaving him vulnerable to a strike from behind. He fell to his knees, breathed out hard with his face close to the ground, andbraced against a blow that never came. The hair on his arms stood on end, spiralingupward and causing his hackles to raise. Lightning charged the air and struck justbehind the trickster, incinerating the foe where he stood and leaving only a pile ofsmoldering ash.

         Loki straightened, huffed a relieved but bemused breath, and turned with a chagrined look to his brother.

         Lightning still danced up Thor’s forearms and his eyes were an angry bright blue. Loki swore he could see the electricity branching through his irises; he had to admit, their occasional brilliant glow had come to thrill him.

         But the circumstance of this meeting was no place for fondness; Thor looked cross with Loki (and couldn’t be blamed for being so) but Loki still offered a half-cocked grin and a thankful nod toward still-smoking remnants on the ground. Thor’s expressionhardly budged.

         Never one to owe a favor, Loki thrust a blade through the sternum of an advancingenemy, clearing a path for the two of them. The opposite forces had already begun torecognize the power against which they were opposed; taking Loki on alone was onething, but when the brothers fought together…

         Loki made a grand gesture, showing Thor the way to battle as if it weren’t blatantlyobvious. “After you.”

         A growl of thunder shook the ground beneath their feet and lightning crackled in the clouds above as Thor said, his voice low, “You’re mine.” It might have read likea threat, but it sounded more like a promise.

        Loki’s expression brightened somewhat. “That’s more like it.” 

        They fell into stride together. Whatever trouble Loki had been causing would have to wait, and whatever had led Thor to Loki’s side didn’t seem to matter. For the time being, the brothers fought side by side as they had once before, in another time - another life for them both.

[princesssparklefists]

mememmeme

send me a url for a voice thing // accepting

oh fine here u go i guess it’s whatever: ( x )

[talentedliarloki]

boltforged replied to your post “��”

:'c always free to talk if you wanna get anything off your chest doll