“Pick,” the voice was cold and robotic, stripped of emotion. It was unsettling, just like everything else in this room was. Lit by only a couple of braziers on the edge of the room, the entirety of the space was lined in moving shadows. The merciless voice echoed in the empty spaces of the room, seemingly coming from nowhere but everywhere. “Pick one, King Thor, and kill the other.”
It was only then that you noticed that Loki and Thor were in the room with you, Loki next to on the ground and Thor forcibly holding onto a sword across from you. Loki was held in place with nothing but a collar on his next and a muzzle across his face but Thor was more extremely tied up. He was straining against the robotic arms that held him in place — lining all four limbs as they were — against the frigid voice that was ordering your lover to kill you.
You knew it was going to be you. What was you couple of years together, on and off as they were, casual to the very end? What were they measured up against the desperate love he had for his brother? Thor had fought against gods and god-killers, world-enders and world-makers just to get his brother back and to keep him alive. Who were you to expect your once in a blue moon relationship to trump that kind of love?
How could you live with yourself if it did?
You caught Thor’s eyes and nodded at him, not muzzled like Loki was. “It’s ok, you could never hurt me. Choose Loki. I understand.” The more you talked the more both brothers struggled — it warmed you that Loki was seemingly disagreeing with your choice. You hadn’t thought he cared about you beyond the fact that sometimes Thor would come bother you and not him.
However, it seemed your words were enough to count as a choice. The robotic arms moving Thor whirled into motion, slowly and laboriously moving Thor and his sword closer and closer to you. You kept trying to catch his eyes, wanting those amazing blues to be the last thing you see but his eyes are farting about in a panic, still trying to find a way out of the situation. You didn’t have hope he’d find one.
“Thor. Please,” it was, you thought, how thoroughly calm you were that caught his attention. He was less than a foot from you when he finally settled enough to look at you — and the heartbreak in his face, his eyes, was enough to emotionally gut you. “Oh, baby…I didn’t know. I’m sorry it’s ending this way but baby…I had a very happy middle.”
His look of confusion and Loki’s sound of derision prompted you to tell them the full quote, “There are no happy endings. Endings are the saddest part, So just give me a happy middle and a very happy start. And baby, our middle was very, very happy.”
You kept your eyes on him as he finally settled over you. As his arms were raised. As his arms were swiftly pushed down. You were happy that his gorgeous blues were the last thing you saw despite the tears that blurred them.
@summer-of-whump
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George Washington was chasing me down main street with a sword yelling at me that he was God's warrior and I was going to Hell and I was a witch.
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soooo i've been real busy this past month and change working on this monster of a painting! it was originally for the GO Ref library study club but clearly took much longer than i anticipated😅
for those of you who don't recognize it, this is based on one of my favorite historical paintings, Judith Beheading Holofernes (1620) by Artemisia Gentileschi. i love the Baroque period and this painting (as well as her other works) makes me insane. here it is Good Omens style so maybe all of you can be insane with me <3
"Aziraphale (and Crowley) Beheading the Metatron"
(non-bloody and non-glowy versions under the cut)
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