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e-m-christina · 3 years

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Serpent Of Sparta

Ivar The Boneless x Reader

PART ONE

Requested by @childishhoe

Summary: Ivar Lothbrok meets his match when he is introduced to Y/n Artròmitos, the daughter of a bloodthirsty Spartan king. She is sent to fight in Ivars army, after making an arrangement with Rollo, the Duke of Normandy.

With matching rage and ambition, Y/n feeds into Ivars flame, igniting feelings that neither of them thought they were capable of. But fire can easily be burnt out.

Series Overall Rating: 17+

Word Count: 2k

Comment to be added to taglist. Requests are open.

MASTERLIST

* * *

TWO MONTHS AGO

Your incarnadine wrap dress fluttered in the wind, fastened only by the golden broach of nobility at your exposed shoulder. Rays of early morning sun glinted off the wine glass that was being twirled between your fingers, as you watched the city from the castle of Mistras. A new batch of children were being piled into carriages, waiting to be sent off as slaves, to the city of Athens.

“You cannot keep running from this marriage. I know you already rule Athens, but after the death of your husband, you must marry again!” You clicked your tongue and rolled your eyes at your father’s remark.

“I have no time for love. I had to sacrifice love for respect. You know this much.” You took a seat opposite your father, who was running a hand over his grey beard. “On the contrary, the Athenians are weak. If I wanted to marry again, I would choose someone in a position of strength.” You said, rolling a grape between your pointer and thumb, making your father sigh.

“I know what you sacrificed, Y/n. What you had to do was terrible, but it was for the best. Both for you and your d-”

“Anyway,” You said, cutting your father off, “I am already Queen of Athens and the leader of the Spartan army. What use would a husband be?”

“Commander Y/n.” The doors of the hall burst open, revealing a puffed and red faced soldier. “The Duke Of Normandy has sent you this.” He passed you a piece of tinted brown parchment, bound by the wax stamp of Normandy.

“Leave me.” You waved your hand, and the warrior promptly left the room.

* * *

“Rollo is bringing a great ally, from a place named ‘Sparta.” Hvitserk said, standing beside his brother, Ivar, and King Harald. A fleet of blue Francia flags sailed towards them like great dragons on the dusky pewter ocean.

“I have heard little of this ally that Rollo is bringing.” Harald said, folding his arms across his chest. “But, what I have heard is that he is a great and fearsome warlord, and that his soldiers are blood-thirsty demons.”

“She. The ally is a she.” Hvitserk corrected Harald, watching Ivars expression turn into one of curiosity.

“What is her name then, dear brother?” Ivar asked, staring at the approaching ships with a new found excitement.

“Y/n. But she is often referred to as the ‘Serpent of Sparta.’” Hvitserk said, feeling uneasy about the glint in Ivars blue eyes. “And if I were you, I would stay out of her way. Her people basically worship her. They believe that she is a descendant of one of their Gods of battle. Ares I believe God was called.”

Ivar smirked. Not only was she apparently a great warrior, but she was also apparently descended from the gods?

“Well, I do look forward to meeting this ‘Y/n’. I would hope that she lives up to her reputation, otherwise I will be disappointed.” Ivar took one last glance at the oncoming fleet, before making his way back down the salt washed wooden deck, ignoring the ‘of course you do,’ from Harald.

* * *

Your nose wrinkled. The pungent smell of decaying fish grew stronger as you came to dock. After stopping in Francia to gather Rollo’s men, you and three hundred of your best Spartan warriors made for Norway. And after two weeks at sea, you were in a horrid mood. After an attempted assassination directed at you, you were pushed over the edge. Not only did you have to command your own men, Rollo had dropped out the day you were meant to leave, making you in charge of all his Francish soldiers. The problem other than the sheer amount of men to keep track of? There was a massive language barrier. You spoke Russian because you often went to Kiev, on trade deals, and you also spoke the language of the northmen. Not french.

Your days often consisted of making ludacris hand gestures to command the french, only to be laughed at by your own warriors. Though you only shared the same ship as your best warriors, the only person you could confide in was Freydis, a Norwegian slave that you had bought from Kattegat five years prior. She had taught you the language of Norway and you taught her Greek. Freydis had grown to be your best, and only friend. You had made her a free woman, yet she chose to stay by your side, through everything. She told you everything about herself and she knew almost everything about you.

“Get ready to dock!” You yelled, throwing thick reams of hemp rope attached to an anchor into the dark water, before climbing over the edge of the ship, Freydis and your best fighters trailing behind you. You were greeted by a large wooden dock surrounded by what looked like disheveled old fishermen.

“I thought these people would be made from tougher stuff.” You said in your language, making your warriors laugh, as you fixed the golden clasp of your crimson cloak. With one flick of your hand, your Spartan warriors started to march down the dock in a wild wave of red and gold. You were at the head, with Freydis and Araios, your second in command, by your side.

“Commander, I heard that this ‘Ivar the Boneless’ is a cripple. Talk about not being tough.” Araios chuckled. You did not not.

“So what? One of our gods, Hephaestus was crippled, yet he was a great warrior. I would not so lightly throw that statement around with malice.” You gave Araios a stern look, before continuing down the dock.

* * *

“I have been anticipating your arrival, Lady Y/n.” You came to a stop in front of the throne that King Harald Finehair was situated on. “We all have.” He finished, before waving his hand at Hvitserk, a Northman you had met in France, and a dark haired Viking that you had not yet met.

“You will address me as Queen or Commander Y/n.” You corrected King Harald. “Take your pick.” The dark haired Viking chuckled, before reaching out his hand.

“Do you know who I am?” He said, shaking your hand. Since he was obviously not King Harald, or Hvitserk, it was a simple enough equation to solve.

“You are Ivar The Boneless. Ragnar Lothbrok's youngest.” You said, making Ivar duck his head with a grin.

“And you have met my brother, I hear.” Ivar pointed to Hvitserk, who refused to make eye contact with you.

“Yes. I remember him. I had to put him in his place after he unsuccessfully tried to ‘woo’ me into bed.” You shot a look at Hvitserk, who was scratching the back of his head and glaring at his brother.

“Well, Queen Y/n, I am sure that we can thank the Gods that you and your men have arrived unharmed. Though, I must ask, where is Rollo?” King Harald said, moving from his throne to sit at a table with Ivar and Hvitserk, indicating for you to do the same.

“Yes, I give thanks to Poseidon for a good passage.” You said, taking a seat opposite the northmen. “As for Duke Rollo, he had urgent business along the Silk Road to attend to.”

“I am sure that you will fare well in his stead. But for now, make yourself comfortable. Tonight there will be a great feast to mark your arrival.”

* * *

Mushroom soup, bitter greens with tomatoes the size of peas, rare roast beef slices as thin as paper, dried salmon and whale in a green sauce, cheese you brought from Francia that melts on your tongue served with sweet blue grapes. The feast was certainly large and exciting. But it was not the type of food you and your warriors were used to. Usually, you had lean chicken breast and a small bunch of grapes, greens, bread and the occasional fish. All because a doctor in Athens had carried out research to conclude that those foods helped with building of muscle. The servants that the Northmen called ‘thralls’, were all young women dressed in greys rags, moved wordlessly to and from the table, keeping the platters and glasses full.

“Why are your Spartan soldiers eating outside?” Ivar asked you, finding it odd that only the warriors from Francia and Norway were in the feasting hall.

“We eat outside for the most part. You said, taking a sip of Mead. The drink of the northmen was certainly different to your usual wine, but it was a welcome difference. “They also sleep outside in trenches. My people believe that it makes them stronger. Little girls and boys born in Sparta, are placed in a number of trials. They have to fight and fend for themselves. If they can’t, they either are left on a hillside to die, or they are sent to the City of Athens as slaves.”

“We do something similar. We leave the weak out to die. But we do not test our children like that. Is that not too harsh?” Ivar said, leaning forward, making you chuckle.

“Ivar, if you want to be the best, you have to have the best warriors. And because I am sitting here right now, proves that you do not have the best warriors.” You said. Ivar narrowed his eyes as he tipped his cup of mead back and placed it on the table.

“We do have good warriors. We were just out numbered, because Bjorn had hired the help of the woodland fighters from Sweden.” Ivar crossed his arms, clearly annoyed that you would suggest his army was not sufficient. You had to laugh. Were these men being serious?

“Forgive me, I forget that the warriors of your people are not on the same level as mine.” You smirked into your horn of mead, watching as offence flickered over Ivars face.

“And why would you say that?” Hvitserk said, trying to defuse Ivars switch.

“The Battle of Thermopylae. Three hundred of my Spartan warriors fought against a vast army of the Persians. There were thousands of them, yet, we still won. Yes, we did have the advantage of land, being that we were on the high ground, but non the less. And you tell me that with a huge heathen army, you could not win because the other side had a couple hundred more warriors?” You said, making Ivar scoff.

“Well, then it was fated. The Gods were on your side, otherwise you would have lost.” Ivar said, making you frown.

“When my Spartan warriors fight, Ares grants us good will.” You narrowed your eyes and leaned forward. “But are you telling me that the Gods don’t favour you?”

“Don’t be stupid, of course the Gods favour us, afterall, they have allowed us to pull together an even bigger army.” Ivar said as he re-filled his horn with gritted teeth.

“In any case, it is up to fate now. Hmm?” Harald said, standing up. “Well, I must go now and see where Astrid has gotten to.” King Harald took on the last swig of Mead, before weaving his way through the crowd and through a door at the back of the room.

“Well, it is getting late. I better go find Freydis.” You said and stood up. “Have a good night.” You ignored Ivars grunt and nodded your head at Hvitserks ‘farewell,’ before following the same path as Harald.

“What do you think of her, brother?” Hvitserk asked cautiously, very aware of Ivars clenched jaw and his blue eyes baring into your back as you left. Ivars silence made Hvitserk bite his lip. He did not think he could bear his brother complaining about you for the next few weeks.

“She is arrogant and rather patronizing.” Ivar said, a smirk slowly curling his lip. “I like her.”

* * *

“You fight like a child.” You spat out a mouthful of salty crimson, swinging your bruised fist. Crack! The large white-haired viking toppled into the mud - for the third time. He had challenged you to a fight after he overheard you talking the night prior. But unfortunately for him, he just proved your point. You being half his size and a woman, he thought he could win the fight with ease. But you had only sustained a punch to the jaw, whereas he was sporting a broken and nose and multiple lost teeth.

“Þú eru witchr!” The man growled, stumbling up from the mud.

“No I am not a witch.” You side-stepped out of his way, as he lunged towards you, only to miss completely and stagger back down into the mud with a thump. “I am just better than you.”

“When I asked you to come help fight, I did not mean fight my men.” You heard a voice call. Turning around, you saw Ivar, who was leaning against a blacksmiths doorway. He stretched out his hand and beckoned you toward him.

“What do you want?” You asked, annoyed that you were interrupted.

“I was thinking about what you said last night.” Ivar said, tapping his crutch thoughtfully.

“So was he.” You pointed your thumb at White-Hair, who was still on the ground a few yards away. Ivar rolled his eyes and leaned forward.

“Not like that. I want you to train my warriors.” Ivar said, watching your expresion flicker.

“And why would I do that?”

“Do you want to win this battle?” He asked.

“I could win this battle easier without your men.” You retorted, crossing your arms. Did you not have enough to worry about?

“Then why don’t you?”

Part 2 coming soon.

Requests open. Comment if you want added to the taglist.

VIKINGS TAGLIST:

@youbloodymadgenius @krissydclayton93 @peachyboneless @1950schick @therealcalicali @the-blue-dalek @xceafh @pieces-by-me @ietss @spring-edlothia @stillsoloststillsolonely @poisonedjoinery @prunelsg @pomegranates-and-blood @revolution-starter @profoundtyrantharmony @ibenkastberg @xvxcarolinexvx @springsoulofengland @lady-valkyrie-blog @ritual-unions-gotme @chaotic-kinky-hippie @cocovikings23 @moonie-flower101 @readsalot73 @saruuslovesmcfly @adhdnightmare @fandomfic-galore @heavenly1927 @apenas-mais-uma-pessoa @dacreshoney @jadelynlace @chibisgotovalhalla @bravado07 @starjane312 @teishalicious @the-girl-in-the-box @ecarroll1978 @childishhoe @punkrocknpearls @jessimay89 @justaproudslytherpuff @dog-cats-fandoms @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @bethcarling-blog-blog @yourdevilmaycare @littlebirdgot

#vikings #ivar the boneless #alex hogh andersen #ivar lothbrok #hvitserk #ragnar #ivar ragnarsson #ivar x reader #romance #bjorn lothbrok #ivar the boneless fanfiction

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randomguywithwords · 4 years

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As The Dust Settles: Chapter 12 (Dabi x Geten Slowburn)

Previous Chapters: 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

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Chapter 12: A Rivalry Ends

Geten opened the door to see the winged hero leaning against the opposite wall, tapping his feet to the music on his earphones.

“What do you want?” Geten said. Hawks looked up and gave a smile. Before he opened his mouth, she followed up, “Get to the point. I don’t do niceties. Or introductions. I don’t care if we haven’t met before properly.”

“Just wanted to congratulate you on your squad leadership.” He replied with a cheery smile on his face, but his eyes told an entirely separate story. They reminded her of the predator he took his name from.

That’s it? Geten turned to walk down the hallway, knowing that would trigger what he actually –

“Hope you can resist killing them too.” Came the predicted drawl from behind.

She stopped in her tracks. So he knows?

“What’s it to you whether they live or die?” She turned to look at him, hands in her pockets, controlling the ice cubes inside.

“Well, killing your own allies is counter-productive, isn’t it? Especially if they’re strong.”

“Not to me.”

“Still, I’m here to ask you to stop with your...hobbies.”

“I haven’t done anything since the festival.”

“So you’ve washed off their blood so easily?”

Geten crossed her arms. “You sound like you have experience, hero.”

Hawks was quick to relax the tense expression that was elicited from her emphasis. “Maybe, maybe not, but you most definitely have, and that brings me to another question: Do you feel safe?”

What do you really want, number two hero? You don’t show up for no reason. His face didn’t give anything away, just a smile that Geten sees on Hanabata and his colleagues all the time.

“Is that a threat?” She opened her palm lazily, and an ice cube left her pocket to swirl around it.

“Not from me. I’m just stating facts. When everyone finds out you’ve killed people to get to where you are, and to stay where you are, it’s gonna be a problem.”

“Trumpet, Skeptic and Curious had no problem, and Re-destro basically gave me permission to.” That much was true. He told her that she was the top soldier in the Liberation Army. She simply kept it that way.

“Then why did they keep a secret list of soldiers away from the database?”

How did he…?

“How much have you been snooping around, Hawks?” Geten accused, “I don’t think everyone likes a spy, either.”

“The Liberation Army won’t, but the League will.”

“Sounds like you’re having trouble telling that we’re on the same side,” Geten lied.

“Hmm. Well I have a hard time trusting people. If I could trust you, I’d feel much better.”

“You came here to talk about my past, and you ask for an...alliance? Your negotiation skills are garbage, Hawks.” Geten pointed out.

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Sorry. I’m terrible at talking. But if you ever find out which side you’re on, let me know. I’m interested in where you stand in all...this. But that’s all from me, cheerios!”

Having said this, he opened the window next to him and leapt out, leaving Geten staring at where he was. Something felt off with that hero-villain, Geten could tell, as though she had divulged too much information – information that he wanted.

Ignore him, I have to train, she thought as she created her ice platform and left the hotel.

She arrived at her training ground to find Dabi already present, to her annoyance. He was shooting fire towards some large boulders.

Surprisingly, no blast of fire came her way, only a scowl and a “What are you doing here? It’s 6 in the morning.”

Still, better than his last method of greeting.

“I always train here at this time. It’s next to the river.” She pointed to the body of water just a few yards away. “And why are you training here? Why are you even training at all?”

“It’s none of your business whether or not I want to train.”

“Fine. I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Good.” He gave a tight nod and returned to burning the large boulders, as Geten glided over to the river, a good fifty meters away from the blaze.

For around half an hour, the field was silent apart from the occasional shattering of ice and the lull of fire roaring. Geten focused on her routine, which she had stuck to for the past few months now, and despite the disruption due to the festival and its aftermath, both externally and internally, she had kept to her schedule quite diligently.

Mainly, her training revolved around improving her control over ice, pushing the threshold. Thus, her first half an hour was spent exerting her abilities over the river, freezing one portion and melting it, repeating the process, speeding it up slowly to improve her efficiency. It would give her more ammunition during a fight faster. Repeating the process despite her laboured breaths and sore arms gave her endurance. Every month, her limits were pushed further and further.

But she did not mind. Her goals were unchanged despite everything that had happened.

At the end of the first regimen, she rested by the riverside and drank some water.

Bored, her attention shifted to what Dabi was doing. She looked up to see him doing something peculiar. He was producing fire at his palms, but otherwise he was just standing there staring at it, as though that plume of blue fire was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.

Then he noticed her. Geten spun her head around, but Dabi began to walk in her direction.

Shit, what now? Is staring a crime?

She met his eyes from afar, even as he slowly stalked closer with his hands tucked in his jacket. If he was gonna do something funny, she wasn’t backing down.

When he was within earshot, she stood up, glaring. “What?”

“What?” He said, tilting his head to the side.

“You want something?”

“Yeah. Can we swap? You go over there for a couple minutes.”

Geten blinked. “Why?”

“Do I need to explain why?” He sounded exasperated.

“Yes. I’m starting my next task soon. I need the river.”

“Well, so do I, so if you could piss off for just a minute, that’d be great.”

“Oh.” He needs the river? She glanced down at his arms, which were smoking. “You need to rest your arms, don’t you? Dipping them in water?”

His eyes widened, his expression tightening. He took one step forward as Geten braced herself. Then, to her bewilderment, he stopped and laughed.

“You really are observant. Well, you got me.” Sensing that there was no need to bother anymore, he bent down and stuck his arms in the river in front of her.

Geten saw his form tense up briefly, as though the river was electrified. Then his body considerably relaxed after a while.

“It...hurts?”

“No shit.”

She snorted. “I thought you somehow managed to overcome this flaw by...sheer grit, or something. Turns out you do this. So you did this that night, too?”

“Yeah, right after your temper tantrum.”

“Hey!” Geten growled, and Dabi let out a snort of his own, turning back and shaking off the water from his arms.

“Thought you were a strong one,” She observed, looking at his raw and singed arms.

Dabi blinked, then sighed. “Ok, I’m just gonna tell you the truth. Only because I don’t think you’re such a stuck-up bit – person anymore.”

“Gee, thanks,” Geten said.

“I didn’t win that duel that night we fought, okay? Even if Compress hadn’t stepped in, I didn’t have any energy left. It was a draw. So can we just tie a knot on that, and not kill each other from now?”

Wait...what? But –– how. Geten found herself frozen in place, her mind unable to form a coherent thought. While anger surged through her like steam, she felt strangely cool, her hatred at this man in front of her dissipating.

She knew the Geten from a week or two ago would have fired a shard of ice the minute he admitted to the truth about their duel, the duel that changed her perception of herself and the world entirely. She exited that duel beating herself up over her weakness, but...maybe I’m not?

But the memory of her meeting with Hanabata shot to the forefront of her brain, reminding her that she was so utterly powerless against something as simple as a gun and a threat of her position.

“I’m interested in where you stand in all...this.” Hawks had said.

Her eyes scanned Dabi, looking for some form of malice on that face, but he looked sincere. What happened?

“No.”

Dabi took a step back. “Oh for –”

“Let me finish. I want to see who’s stronger, but not combat. Endurance.” Geten clenched her fist.

Dabi arched an eyebrow. “What do you have in mind?”

“Try to melt my ice. If you can, you win. If you run out of steam first, I win.”

“Alright then.” Dabi shrugged. “Summon your thing.”

Geten took out an ice cube from her pocket and chucked it into the river, lowering the temperature of it. She felt more and more water molecules slow down to freezing point. The tingle at her fingertips grew larger. With a smirk, she raised her hand, willing the ice to rise upwards to form a mini glacier, a storey high.

She looked at Dabi and gave a gesture. “Go ahead.”

Dabi stretched his fingers. Igniting his hands, he unleashed a stream of azure flames.

The heat hit Geten instantly, the tingle beginning to die as ice melted out of her control. Not so fast, she thought, steeling her resolve. She kept the temperature steady, forcing the molecules to slow themselves against Dabi’s fire. She was not going to lose this match.

In return, she felt the energy redirected into her own body. Her chest grew warmer by the second. A bead of sweat dripped down her forehead.

She gave a gasp, betraying her exhaustion. Dabi looked at her for a brief second.

“So quick?” Dabi teased, but Geten noted the veins surfacing on his skin, popping out like grey branches. It was clearly hurting him too.

If it was a war of attrition, talking only wasted energy. She stayed silent, focusing her mind on the task.

The ice beneath and around the glacier was redundant. Not needing them, she raised the temperature of them to take some heat off her. It worked; the burn in her chest subsided temporarily.

How much time had passed? It feels like it’s been an hour.

The fire was beginning to thin, just slightly. A smile danced on her lips, but the effort kept her teeth gritted. She would celebrate after she won.

With every second, the ice on the surface, taking the brunt of the fire’s rage, melted despite her attempts to freeze them. She shifted her focus onto keeping the core of the glacier as cold as possible. That was how she would win, after all.

Still, time seemed to slow the longer the match stretched. She was not letting up. Neither was he.

Desperation crawled into her burning heart as she saw the glacier slowly shrink like butter in a pan. But she held out hope – Dabi was definitely faltering too, since the fire was also weakening.

A few more seconds...There’s no way he can survive longer. The pain would knock him unconscious.

Her legs were like melting ice as well; her vision began to blur, seeing just the blue fire, ground, and the black, cloudy shape of Dabi.

Shit. Her control slipped, as though she was clinging onto the semi-liquid ice itself. It was but a small mound now, and she wasn’t stopping the melting anymore. Not again.

But then the fire stopped with a gasp, which didn’t come from her.

She let go, staggering, but she stood up. The person in front of her was on the floor, clutching his smoking arms.

“I...I win.” The statement sounded more like a question towards herself. Why was she doubting it? He had stopped his fire. She just had to hear it first, hear it from him.

“Yeah.” Dabi’s voice was raspy, tinged with bitterness. He shakily stood up and walked over towards her and the river. “You win.”

As he plunged his hands into the water, a smile crept over her lips. Her head was dizzy from exerting herself, but also glee.

I won.

She took off her hood and sat down, panting, but her smile never left her. Dabi looked at her, his face scrunched up as he studied her expression. He shook his head.

“You’re crazy, you know?” He said.

“Shut up, I won. I’m stronger,” She replied.

Dabi hummed, turning his attention back to his arms. “So, are we done here? Truce?”

“Yeah, truce.”

––––––

I’m not gonna lie, if you found that pseudo-fight boring, I can’t blame you. I had a hard time finding a good way to make it sound interesting. It’s literally just Dabi shooting fire at an iceberg which doesn’t want to melt. When I upload the 2nd draft on the fanfic platforms, I’m not even sure if I can edit it into something better.

Geten-Hawks is a dynamic I have not considered and I went in basically blind. If either seems OOC, sorry. I’m not good at dialogue either, so the conversation might be confusing.

I should definitely consult a dialogue pro on this.

Finally over with the rivalry phase, 12 chapters in. Actual slowburn.

Long chapter (for my story). It’s made me think whether I should just be uploading these on AO3 first, since it’s UI is the least shittiest compared to the other 2. I might just compromise on inserting a link, and minimise this post with an expand link. Not a lot of people put full fics on Tumblr text posts, and those who do tend to use expand links, so I might do that.

Let’s see...I’ve two more weeks before holidays end and I’m back to school, so come June uploads will slow down noticeably. Until then, hope I can churn out a couple more chapters.

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veliseraptor · 7 years

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Hi. I very like your fics. But can I ask. On tumblr I saw a lot of theories about how much Loki's intention was in New-York invasion, from 'he was brainwashed as much as Clint and gave Avengers to win' to 'he was absolutelly free willing to do it and really aimed to conquer the Earth'. What's your opinion on that? I just want to know, so it's easier for me te read. You probably wrote about it already, but I can't find.

oh boy if THIS isn’t one of my favorite topics! because it’s one I have a lot of feelings about, and while I’ll read a broad range of explanations I actually have one that (like everything) is “somewhere in the middle.” I have indeed written about this in fic and probably also in meta somewhere, but sure, I’ll write another essay about it since I don’t really feel like looking for said meta.

first off - I do think that Loki was “brainwashed” if by “brainwashed” we mean not in the sense of Clint or Bucky but in the sense of “very specifically manipulated into a specific state of mind and nudged in specific directions.” I’ve written before about the way I feel like Thanos nurtured existing tendencies in Loki, who at the time was in a very vulnerable state of mind: encouraging his paranoia, his mistrust, his belief that he was on his own and has to make a place for himself because no one else will, his belief that his family has completely rejected him.

at the point when Loki ends up on Sanctuary I think he was balanced pretty closely between, on the one hand, despair, and on the other, rage. those two things live pretty close together for Loki, because he tends to transmute the one into the other because the latter is in some ways safer. so Thanos just gives him a little nudge into choosing rage and hatred, because there is (or so Loki’s led to believe), no other option. it’s not as clear cut as “Loki was controlled” because, yes, he could have made different choices. could have gone in a different way.

but on the other hand, where Loki was sometimes an honored guest, sometimes he was a prisoner, and there’s always the potential threat of pain. and pain, Thanos tells Loki, is a tool to make him stronger. (this is something that comes up in Mending, but also more subtly in a number of others of my fics.)

there’s also an element of playing on Loki’s need for control. he needs to believe that he has some ability to manipulate events, some control over his situation, so the moment some of that is offered he grabs onto it, regardless of the fact that a part of him knows that that’s exactly what he’s meant to do.

so when Thanos says there’s something I want on Earth, you can get it for me, Loki thinks yes, this is my chance, if I do this I’ll survive (I’ll get away) and at the back of his mind is also the thought and maybe I can get something for myself, and, yes, the thought that this will hurt Thor. I’ve talked before about the fact that I think Loki bargains for Earth to be his - that’s not something Thanos necessarily offers. but Thanos basically says “sure, why not” because a) he has a leash on Loki in the form of the Other’s mental connection to him and b) he’s confident that if need be he can crush Loki if he tries to betray Thanos.

during the attack, Loki is trying to walk a very thin line, and his motivations are kind of all over the place. on the one hand he’s aware that he can’t win - that even if he manages to take over, it’s doubtful he’ll actually get to keep Earth. he toys with the idea of claiming the Tesseract for himself but that doesn’t seem likely to be even possible, but on the other hand if he gives it back then he loses all leverage. on the one side are the Chitauri and Thanos, and on the other are Earth’s defenses, and Loki is very aware that he’s sort of stuck between them trying to hold his own, on his own, because the only allies he has (that he can trust) are the ones he’s controlling. and even that control relies on a gift Thanos gave him that could just as easily be taken away.

Coulson says that Loki “lacks conviction” and I think that’s a very important line, because Loki does. he doesn’t know what he wants, not completely, barely knows what he’s doing, and honestly can’t see a way out of his situation. and when Thor arrives that just gets worse, because as much as Loki thought he was ready to deal with Thor, entirely inured against that “emotional weakness”, he isn’t. and Thor insists on not doing what Loki expects, on acting like he wants to reach out, and Loki “knows” he’s pretending but wants it to be true.

and as for the weakness of Loki’s planning - some of that is the weakness of his determination, the fact that he’s still brittle from everything that’s happened to him, but some of it is also that Loki tends to self-sabotage. he doesn’t really believe in what he’s doing, he knows he’s doomed to failure, so goddammit he’s going to fail his way.

this goes back to performative villainy, too: Loki knows how this story goes. the heroes fight, the monster dies. he knows the role he’s playing, he’s chosen that role because it’s the one he thinks he has to play, and he’s performing to that story that he’s living in. what throws Loki off balance, again and again, is when that story doesn’t go how he expects: when Thor reaches out to offer him a way back, for instance.

Loki’s fighting the Avengers but in equal measure he’s fighting himself. he thinks he wants to rule but he knows he won’t, or can’t. and above all, he needs to believe that this was all his choice, because admitting that he was manipulated means admitting that he doesn’t have the control he so desperately clings to.

“What bargain did you make?” Odin asked. “Were you to retrieve the Tesseract in exchange for Midgard? Do you truly think that Thanos would grant you that power?”

No. Loki had known, from the moment he’d opened his eyes in the underground laboratory, that even if he won he was going to lose. His only hope was to seize the Tesseract for himself and double-cross the Chitauri, but with the Other’s fingers in his mind, even if he could defeat an army on his own, he would still fall in the end.

There was no path to victory. No version of this where you come out on top, Stark had said, and Loki had known it to be truth. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t try.

Loki chose to try to conquer Earth, but he was manipulated into that choice. Loki wanted to win, but he also set himself up to lose. Loki was trapped, but he also trapped himself. he wanted to win the Earth, but he also didn’t.

and I think that Thanos knew, given Loki’s state of mind, a lot of this. I think it’s at least possible that Thanos threw Loki at Earth without necessarily expecting that he would succeed. Thanos plays games and toys with people - he doesn’t seem to care about the loss of the Chitauri army, or even, really, the loss of the Tesseract. the only thing that seems to get any reaction from him (as opposed to the Other), is the fact that Earth might actually be an interesting challenge rather than an easy kill.

other meta that might be of interest:

on Thanos’s long game

a little on Loki and Thanos and Loki’s linking love and pain

on Thanos’s unique parenting style

on why Thanos gave Loki access to an Infinity Stone

even more about how I headcanon Thanos working on Loki

#well that got long #loki trashblogging #aggressively headcanons #loki's a goddamn mess #hey anon thanks for giving me the excuse to talk about this at length #anonymous #conversating

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dfroza · 5 years

Text

A reflection of horse & rider

or in a modern case, car & driver. and this is seen in Today’s reading of chapter 31 of the ancient writing of Isaiah translated in English in The Voice

and the number 31 is seen in my former Chevy Lumina 3.1 that i drove to work at Love envelopes, inc. up until january of ‘06 where envelopes were made for Dayspring cards with the first verse of Psalm 23 printed on it:

“The Lord is my Shepherd; I have everything I need.”

and this also from Today’s reading for Saturday, june 22 being day 173 of the year (and day 2 of Summer) that coincides with Psalm 22, 2, and 23, as well as Proverbs 22

and in chapter 31 of Isaiah we read of trusting in powers other than God, and we see the protective Eye of Love over its True children (who we are as daughters and sons of Light in the Spirit who indeed protects our heart and the treasure thereof to safely guide us “Home”)

and in this sacred truth we see the need of cleansing, of rebirth, and of trusting in grace and its baptism by turning the heart to face God our beautiful Creator, who is a power that we need to be respectful of, to have a sense of reverence toward.

At some point Love will fully cleanse all manner of falsehood to restore beautiful earth to its original state. the seed of its genesis is pure and innocent.

from chapter 31 of the writing of Isaiah:

O how bad it will be for you who look to the south

to Egypt for help and depend on her horses,

Who trust in its many chariots and fix your hopes on its strong drivers.

Yet you do not look to the Holy One of Israel for relief

or even bother to consult Him.

God is both wise and willing to wreak disaster;

He does not second guess Himself or backtrack on what He says.

God will amass all divine power against those who do evil

and against whoever aids and abets them.

As for Egypt, why do you rely on them?

They are great, yes,

but merely human, not God—their steeds just creatures, not spirits.

But when the Eternal reaches out and makes His power felt,

those who lent their help will stumble; those who looked for help will fall.

Together they will be routed and killed.

Eternal One (to Isaiah): Just as a lion or a young lion fiercely growls over his prey,

even while shepherds band together to fight him off,

A lion won’t be scared off by their shouts

or deterred by their noise and threatening gestures.

So, too, the Eternal, Commander of heavenly armies, will descend

to defend Mount Zion and its hill without fail.

As birds hover protectively over their nests

so the Eternal, Commander of heavenly armies, will guard Jerusalem from all harm.

Not only that, but God will protect and save it, rescue and keep it.

So give up, children of Israel. Return, people of promise, to God against whom you so blatantly rebelled. For in that day you’ll see the worthlessness of the idols you so wickedly made, and everyone will throw away their gods of silver and gold.

Eternal One: And then, the one you fear, Assyria, will fall and be defeated,

not by the sword of man but by the sword of God.

It will try to escape the edge of the blade,

but its young men will be captured and put to forced labor.

The very thing the Assyrians thought was permanent

will disappear into thin air, fleeing in fear;

And the discipline of their military will come to nothing.

They’ll panic and run.

This is what the Eternal, whose fire burns in Zion, whose furnace blazes in Jerusalem, has said.

The Scroll of Isaiah, Chapter 31 (The Voice)

and from the paired chapter of this as 2nd Corinthians 12 we see the need for humility under Heaven which is the actual source of True courage in a world that magnifies human pride.

for surely, it is an act of bravery to “believe...”

But he answered me, “My grace is always more than enough for you, and my power finds its full expression through your weakness.”

The Letter of 2nd Corinthians, Chapter 12:9 (The Passion Translation)

and from the same chapter a plea for the heart to be given over to the True nature of Love:

For what I really want is your hearts, not your money. After all, children should not have to accumulate resources for their parents, but parents do this for their children. And as a spiritual father to you, I will gladly spend all that I have and all that I am for you! If I love you more, will you respond by loving me less?

Be that as it may, I haven’t been a burden to you at all, yet you say of me, “He’s a scoundrel and a trickster!” But let me ask you this. Did I somehow cheat or trick you through any of the men I sent your way? I was the one who insisted that Titus and our brother come and help you. Did Titus take advantage of you? Didn’t we all come to you in the same spirit, following in the ways of integrity?

I hope that you don’t assume that all this time we have simply been justifying ourselves in your eyes? Beloved ones, we have been speaking to you in the sight of God as those joined to Christ, and everything we do is meant to build you up and make you stronger in your faith. Now I’m afraid that when I come to you I may find you different than I desire you to be, and you may find me different than you would like me to be. I don’t want to find you in disunity, with jealousy and angry outbursts, with selfish ambition, slander, gossip, arrogance, and turmoil. I’m actually afraid that on my next visit my God will humble me in front of you as I shed tears over those who keep sinning without repenting of their impurity, sexual immorality, and perversion.

The Letter of 2nd Corinthians, Chapter 12:14-21 (The Passion Translation)

to be accompanied by the lines of Psalm 23 about finding the place of “Home” in the peace of the heart:

The Good Shepherd

David’s poetic praise to God

The Lord is my best friend and my shepherd.

I always have more than enough.

He offers a resting place for me in his luxurious love.

His tracks take me to an oasis of peace, the quiet brook of bliss.

That’s where he restores and revives my life.

He opens before me pathways to God’s pleasure

and leads me along in his footsteps of righteousness

so that I can bring honor to his name.

Lord, even when your path takes me through

the valley of deepest darkness,

fear will never conquer me, for you already have!

You remain close to me and lead me through it all the way.

Your authority is my strength and my peace.

The comfort of your love takes away my fear.

I’ll never be lonely, for you are near.

You become my delicious feast

even when my enemies dare to fight.

You anoint me with the fragrance of your Holy Spirit;

you give me all I can drink of you until my heart overflows.

So why would I fear the future?

For your goodness and love pursue me all the days of my life.

Then afterward, when my life is through,

I’ll return to your glorious presence to be forever with you!

The Book of Psalms, Poem 23 (The Passion Translation)

my reading in the Scriptures for Saturday, june 22, day 2 of Summer and day 173 of the year in which we find wisdom to surrender the heart to God as a child who trusts. and there is wisdom found in the daily Proverbs that coincide with each day of the month:

[Proverbs 22]

A beautiful reputation is more to be desired than great riches, and to be esteemed by others is more honorable than to own immense investments.

The rich and the poor have one thing in common: the Lord God created each one.

A prudent person with insight foresees danger coming and prepares himself for it. But the senseless rush blindly forward and suffer the consequences.

Laying your life down in tender surrender before the Lord will bring life, prosperity, and honor as your reward.

Twisted and perverse lives are surrounded by demonic influence. If you value your soul, stay far away from them.

Dedicate your children to God and point them in the way that they should go, and the values they’ve learned from you will be with them for life.

If you borrow money with interest, you’ll end up serving the interests of your creditors, for the rich rule over the poor.

Sin is a seed that brings a harvest; you’ll reap a heap of trouble with every seed you plant. For your investment in sins pays a full return—the full punishment you deserve!

When you are generous to the poor, you are enriched with blessings in return.

Say goodbye to a troublemaker and you’ll say goodbye to quarrels, strife, tension, and arguments, for a troublemaker traffics in shame.

The Lord loves those whose hearts are holy, and he is the friend of those whose ways are pure.

God passionately watches over his deep reservoir of revelation-knowledge, but he subverts the lies of those who pervert the truth.

A slacker always has an excuse for not working—like “I can’t go to work. There’s a lion outside! And murderers too!”

Sex with an adulteress is like falling into the abyss. Those under God’s curse jump right in to their own destruction.

Although rebellion is woven into a young man’s heart, tough discipline can make him into a man.

There are two kinds of people headed toward poverty: those who exploit the poor and those who bribe the rich.

[Sayings of the Wise Sages]

Listen carefully and open your heart. Drink in the wise revelation that I impart.

You’ll become winsome and wise when you treasure the beauty of my words.

And always be prepared to share them at the appropriate time.

For I’m releasing these words to you this day, yes, even to you, so that your living hope will be found in God alone, for he is the only one who is always true.

Pay attention to these excellent sayings of three-fold things.

For within my words you will discover true and reliable revelation.

They will give you serenity so that you can reveal the truth of the word of the one who sends you.

Never oppress the poor or pass laws with the motive of crushing the weak. For the Lord will rise to plead their case and humiliate the one who humiliates the poor.

Walk away from an angry man or you’ll embrace a snare in your soul by becoming bad-tempered just like him.

Why would you ever guarantee a loan for someone else or promise to be responsible for his debts? For if you fail to pay you could lose your shirt!

The previous generation has set boundaries in place. Don’t you dare move them just to benefit yourself.

If you are uniquely gifted in your work, you will rise and be promoted. You won’t be held back—you’ll stand before kings!

The Book of Proverbs, Chapter 22 (The Passion Translation)

to be concluded with the lines (31 verses) of Psalm 22 for the 22nd of june that illuminates what the King endured on the cross to cover the penalty for our own wrongdoing and to lead people into the very Heart of Love:

A Prophetic Portrait of the Cross

For the Pure and Shining One

King David’s song of anguish

To the tune of “The Deer at the Dawning of the Day”

God, my God!

Why would you abandon me now?

Why do you remain distant,

refusing to answer my tearful cries in the day

and my desperate cries for your help in the night?

I can’t stop sobbing.

Where are you, my God?

Yet I know that you are most holy; it’s indisputable.

You are God-Enthroned, surrounded with songs,

living among the shouts of praise of your princely people.

Our fathers’ faith was in you—

through the generations they trusted and believed in you

and you came through.

Every time they cried out to you in their despair,

you were faithful to deliver them;

you didn’t disappoint them.

But look at me now; I am like a woeful worm,

crushed, and I’m bleeding crimson.

I don’t even look like a man anymore.

I’ve been abused, despised, and scorned by everyone!

Mocked by their jeers, despised with their sneers,

as all the people poke fun at me, spitting their insults,

saying, “Is this the one who trusted in God?

Is this the one who claims God is pleased with him?

Now let’s see if your God will come to your rescue!

We’ll just see how much he delights in you!”

Lord, you delivered me safely from my mother’s womb.

You are the one who cared for me ever since I was a baby.

Since the day I was born, I’ve been placed in your custody.

You’ve cradled me throughout my days.

I’ve trusted in you and you’ve always been my God.

So don’t leave me now; stay close to me!

For trouble is all around me and there’s no one else to help me.

I’m surrounded by many violent foes;

mighty forces of evil are swirling around me

who want to break me to bits and destroy me.

Curses pour from their mouths!

They’re like ravenous, roaring lions tearing their prey.

Now I’m completely exhausted; I’m spent.

Every joint of my body has been pulled apart.

My courage has vanished and

my inward parts have melted away.

I’m so thirsty and parched—dry as a bone.

My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth.

And now you’ve left me in the dust for dead.

They have pierced my hands and my feet.

Like a pack of wild dogs they tear at me,

swirling around me with their hatred.

They gather around me like lions to pin my hands and feet.

All my bones stick out.

Look at how they all gloat over me and stare!

With a toss of the dice they divide my clothes among themselves,

gambling for my garments!

Lord, my God, please don’t stay far away.

For you are my only might and strength.

Won’t you come quickly to my rescue?

Give me back my life.

Save me from this violent death.

Save my precious one and only

from the power of these demons!

Save me from all the power of the enemy,

from this roaring lion raging against me

and the power of his dark horde.

I will praise your name before all my brothers;

as my people gather I will praise you in their midst.

Lovers of Yahweh, praise him!

Let all the true seed of Jacob glorify him with your praises.

Stand in awe of him, all you princely people,

the offspring of Israel!

For he has not despised my cries of deep despair.

He’s my first responder to my sufferings,

and he didn’t look the other way when I was in pain.

He was there all the time, listening to the song of the afflicted.

You’re the reason for my praise; it comes from you and goes to you.

I will keep my promise to praise you before all who fear you

among the congregation of your people.

I will invite the poor and broken,

and they will come and eat until satisfied.

Bring Yahweh praise and you will find him.

Your hearts will overflow with life forever!

From the four corners of the earth,

the peoples of the world will remember and return to the Lord.

Every nation will come and worship him.

For the Lord is King of all, who takes charge of all the nations.

There they are! They’re worshiping!

The wealthy of this world will feast in fellowship with him

right alongside the humble of heart,

bowing down to the dust, forsaking their own souls.

They will all come and worship this worthy King!

His spiritual seed shall serve him.

Future generations will hear from us

about the wonders of the Sovereign Lord.

His generation yet to be born will glorify him.

And they will all declare, “It is finished!”

The Book of Psalms, Poem 22 (The Passion Translation)

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