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I can see you now, sky dancer, leaping through the web of white like an arctic fox. There and gone. There and gone. Â I know you are there. I feel your laughter stretching down.
Does time exist where you spin? And if so, can you unravel it? If I gave myself to you, would you stretch me too?
Yank me, backwards, and fix me, helpless, back to when Ymir's bones first sighed in pain. There, leave me harnessed; an old soul to grow beside you from the start, from the ever that was before forever.
Your pace stretched past our bones back then, setting into us our veins. Setting reins to always pull on you without even knowing who you were. There's memory in blood.
Now I see you.
Give me your transfusion. Let me touch the bones beneath your fur. Then I who wish to love you, show me how to bleed.
After years of torment in his home realm of Jotunheim, Loki comes up with a plan to restore the frost giants to glory. The only catch is he must gain the trust of Odin's family-and most importantly-not get distracted by Thor's soon to be Princess.
Loki knew several things:
First, that he was a failed experiment. And that even though he was the king's son, he was an outcast; his father hated him.
And lastly, most importantly, it was all the King of Asgard'sâOdin's- fault.
All of these facts made his life miserable. They made Loki wish he had never been born; but unfortunately for him, he had been.
His father often told him about his plan to create a master race that was part Jotun and Asgardianâa creature the size of a frost giant and the magical skill of the Aesir. What Laufey hadn't counted on was Loki taking after his motherâsomething she had been killed promptly for. Why Loki hadn't joined his mother, he never understood. Sometimes he wished he had been killed right away so he wouldn't have to suffer at the hands of his father and the rest of his race.
A race that treated him less than the lowest slave in the realm. They often used him as target practice when training; after all, no one cared if he got hurt. As a result, he has a collection of scars that, when combined with his tribal markings, meant he didn't have an inch of smooth skin on his body.
If he was lucky (he almost never was), he would keep out of sight long enough to where no one noticed him. He would spend days hiding in the library of Jotenheim, a place with the only books in the realmâŠand a place where no one ever went. It was here he fed his hatred of Asgardians and found out why Laufey was so determined to create a secret weapon. It was also where he found the only book about magic-magic that he was pretty damn good at. Loki was able to conjure weapons out of thin air, create clones of himself (he wished he would master that oneâthese were so feeble), cast illusions, and if he tried hard enough, he could shapeshift.
He worked hard to shift into the pictures of Asgardians he saw in the books. Loki was able to replace his blue skin and red eyes, but the scars remained. He managed to give himself shoulder length black hair and a more regal shape to his face. He could pass for an Asgardian if it wasn't for the damned scars. But thenâŠmaybe that could work in his favorâŠ
Loki braced himself as he walked into his father's chambers; something he never dared to do since his father was the reason for the most horrendous scars on his body. Laufey was sitting on his throne, a few of his advisors muttering about what was plaguing the planet and how as King of the Frost Giants he must have some plan to save his people. But as soon as Loki came into his line of sight, his red eyes narrowed into slits..,
Loki paused for a moment. His father was in a bad mood, and if he just stood there like a fool he would be lucky to crawl back to his chambers. But he ran his plan through his head carefully. He knew it step by step, every detail by heart.
day in, day out. iâm your friend, iâm not your friend. in front of guests who donât seem to notice, at night when sleep only comes in small batches, even behind the windows when my clock-in time is fifteen minutes out.
you get used to these sorts of things. like the smell of horse dung on a farm. canât smell it so much if you live in it. sometimes theyâre loud, sometimes theyâre quiet, they change it up. the dog is usually far more enthusiastic with a wide and toothy smile, the cat usually just sits with his tail around his feet and stares. itâs not a surprise people like the dog more.
iâm your friend. iâm not your friend.
one of those small-batch nights of sleep again. two tries and four hours later, itâs time to throw in the towel and walk around the house for a bit. tea sounds good. feet hit the cold hardwood floor, followed by the familiar chorus from the dog and cat. they follow down to the kitchen.
iâm not your friend.
strange. the dog is silent. in fact the dog always went first, to the point where it was to be assumed that the cat was just responding to whatever the dog said. but the dog is there, just watching with big brown eyes. the smile isnât as wide as usual. the cat is ever the same. a bit hair-raising, but not so much as the day they starting speaking in the first place. the kettle goes on the electric coils of the stove. the coils heat up and turn red. that old high school friend is posting bullshit again, but for some reason itâs hard to hit unfriend. you know how it is. that human condition.
the dogâs large body registers just past the smart phone, moments before teeth dig into the flesh of my calf and it splits open. screams are cut short as the teeth yank, jerked out like the pole holding a trapdoor up. the red hot coils of the stove sear my cheeks to the bone, but the water is heated up and the real screams are covered up by the shriek of the kettle.
elbows crack as they hit the hardwood floor. panic has a hard time being heard past the pain. writhing on the ground as the teeth continue to yank does nothing, the dogâs eyes glint in the darkness with the same enthusiasm as her usual perky grin. the burning, the searing continues with the sick smell of burnt flesh bringing tears to whateverâs left of my eyes. it hurts. it hurts. god it hurts. the dog keeps yanking, pulling back up the stairs to the bedroom, step, by step, by step. it does no use to struggle, so everything goes limp as my skull causes a thick sound when it slams against each stair. one eye still works, barely, between the explosion of black spots each stair causes me. the cat is padding along, following at a safe distance. each pawstep seems calculated to not get into the mess of blood and pus.
iâm not your friend.
the dog backs up into the bedroom, and with a strain of muscles that make her bones pop and her body deform, she lifts in an arc and throws my body back on the bed. then the beast leaps on me, and its goofy grin spreads in my spotty vision. teeth are bloodstained. tongue is hanging loose and greedy.
iâm your friend!
inhaling sharp, thereâs nothing to do but watch the mouth open wide to snap shut. if it would get there. with a snarl and a hiss the cat attacks, striking low and digging into the dogâs belly. yelps and barks, and without further struggle the dog is fleeing, tail between legs.
the bedsheets feel like sandpaper. breath is coming out in wheezes. the cat curls his tail around his feet.
iâm not your friend.
same as ever.
iâm not your friend.
the cat lunges, graceful before its teeth sink into my neck. one was a lie, the other was the truth.
Um um happy moments where kid host is with other egos? Or angst maybe (getting lost, losing his eyes, being abandoned, etc.)?
// Why not... all of that? :Dc
The one who found him was, unsurprisingly, the Doctor. He came to the library to check up on Host, wanting to see after his eyes and if he needed fresh bandages. So when he entered the library and saw a little child in a far too big coat, curled up in Hostâs armchair, he was a little more than simply startled.
âHost?â, he spoke softly, walking up to the child. He crouched down in front of the boy, laying his hands onto the seat of the chair.âHm?â, the boy looked at Iplier, tilting his head lightly in question.âWhat... happened?â, Iplier asked, confused as to why Host was a child. It was definitely still him, the bandages wrapped around his eyes were bloody, his hair was gelled back and had its familiar golden streak.
âHappened? Nothinâ happened.â, Host seemed confused, which only confused Iplier more. Something must have happened to turn Host into a child after all.âWell...â, Iplier trailed off, not knowing what to do now. He should still take care of Hostâs eyes, right? If his bandages were bleed through, he needed to clean them up.âYou can clean my eyes.â, Host said and giggled softly, the sound warming Iplierâs heart, making him smile up to Host.
âAlright, Iâll be gentle.â, Iplier carefully unwrapped the bandages from around Hostâs head, putting them into a little plastic bag he had with him. He went on to the task of cleaning Hostâs eyes, softly speaking to him to keep his mind off of what was happening.Once everything was clean, he wrapped fresh bandages around Hostâs head, hiding his eyes from the world again.
âThere we go.â, Iplier smiled and leaned back again. He pulled out a cherry lollipop, giving it to Host, who very happily took it.âWanna play! Can we play?â, he asked, scootching forward on his seat. He bounced where he sat, wanting to go and do something.âLetâs see if thereâs someone whoâll play with you, hm?â, Iplier asked with a smile, helping Host off the armchair. He stood up and held Hostâs hand in his own, smiling softly. Host was adorable.
Together, they left the library, and walked through the hall. Iplier didnât know to whom he should bring Host though. He wouldnât really trust Wilford with a child, and he didnât even know most of the egos well enough to know if he could trust them with Host.They walked past the meeting room, in which Wilford and Dark were, arguing as it appeared. But, Wilford spotted Iplier and that he had a child with him, so of course he disregarded Dark and opened up the door.
âIplier~!â, Wilford called and giggled. âWho do you have here, hm?~â, he asked with a hum, and the little boy let go of Iplierâs hand, to instead turn around and smile brightly.âWilfy!â, Host giggled and ran up to Wilford, jumping at him for a hug.Wilford caught him with a laugh, spinning Host around before holding him against himself. He tickled Hostâs stomach with a wiggle of his mustache.âHey there little Hosty!â, he greeted, listening happily to Host laugh at the tickles.
âI found him like this.â, Iplier said, right as Dark stepped out of the door as well. He didnât look too pleased about anything in this situation right now.âHow absolutely adorable!â, Wilford said and nuzzled his nose against Hostâs. It made Host giggle happily, as he held onto Wilford tightly.âWill he return to normal?â, Dark asked, a slight ringing in the air. The sound made Host wince and cover his ears.âI donât know. I would assume so, though.â, Iplier replied, looking towards Host and Wilford -the latter cuddling Host.
âLetâs go have some fun!â, Wilford exclaimed and without waiting even a second, he poofed into a cloud of pink glitter.Dark sighed, cracking his neck. He would have to trust Wilford to not... break Host, in his fragile state. Iplier looked worried as he watched the spot where Wilford and Host had just been.
Wilford and Host reappeared in a park. It had a big playground and Wilford was certain that he could have a lot of fun with Host here. He brought his little friend over to the slide, setting him up on the top and waiting on the bottom.He brought Host to the swings, making sure Host held on tightly, before pushing him, letting him swing as high as Host wanted to.He twisted Host on the swing around and around and let go, letting the little boy spin around in on himself, laughing happily.
And then he wanted to play hide and seek. Host trusted Wilford, and his child-like mind didnât think about the dangers for himself, a blind little boy.So when Wilford started to count, Host giggled and ran away from where Wilford was counting. He had no idea where he was going, but there was apparently a little forest in the park, as he could hear leafs crunch underneath his feet, and his coat dragged over the ground, gathering dirt, leafs and twigs in it.
Soon enough, he found some bushes, where he crawled into. He giggled quietly to himself, thinking he had a great hiding spot.
And he had.Because he still sat there an hour later.
Host was getting hungry, and he missed Wilford. So he crawled out of his hiding spot, looking around. He could feel his eyes bleeding a little.âWilfy?â, he called out, taking a few steps. Where had he come from? Where should he go?âWilfy?!â, he called again, louder. Starting to get scared.
He hugged himself as he began to walk, not knowing where to go, not knowing what to do. He wanted to go home. Where was home? Where was Wilford?He was utterly lost, and he was very afraid. He didnât like being alone, and maybe something would happen to him? Maybe someone would steal him away? He was scared, he was terrified, and he didnât know what to do.
After walking around for a while, he gave up. He sat down and curled up, shivering. He felt abandoned, he felt like he wasnât wanted. Wilford wouldâve looked for him after all, right? He wouldnât just leave him here, right?Right?
Eventually, Host fell asleep, curled up underneath some tree, the trunk behind his back. He was shaking, bandages getting soaked with blood.He was dreaming. He was having a nightmare.
He could see, he could see the wooden ceiling, the smell of dust and of the forest filling his nose. And then there was this person, this man, and the high ringing in his ears. He was held down, and no matter how much he trashed, squirmed, begged and pleaded to be released, nothing helped.And then some liquid was poured over his eyes, and all he could perceive was pain. He was screaming, screaming until his throat was raw, until he-
He was pulled up and into someoneâs arms. He felt the tremble of the person, the big hand on the back of his head, the other on his back.âGod, Hosty, I found you, finally.â, was that.. Wilford?Host sniffed, he could feel the blood running over his cheeks. His bottom lip quivered and he started to sob, clinging to Wilford and crying, sobbing openly.âItâs alright, I got you, I got you.â, Wilford held Host close against himself, enveloping him fully. He was shaking, taking deep shaky breaths, as he softly hushed Host.
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What do the Jim twins think of little Host? Imagine them stealing him away to try and play when Googs is gone. Or try and shoot a paranormal video about it or smth?? That'd be a disaster
Everyone knew Host was a child, and that he was staying with Google. He went with Google to the meetings the egos held, sitting on Googleâs lap and sometimes whispering to Google with a giggle. One time he had even fell asleep, even though there had been a rather loud argument going on.
Google didnât let anyone touch Host in the slightest. Doctor Iplier was allowed to take care of his eyes, when Google felt it was necessary. But other than that, no one was allowed to interact with Host as long as Google wasnât there as well.
Of course, the Jims took that as a challenge.
It were the newsreporter and the weatherman Jims who took up the task of retrieving Host, while cameraman Jim and on site reporter Jim came up with something to do with Host.
Jim opened the door to Googleâs room and peeked inside. He spotted Host in his sleeping corner, curled up on his pillows and blankets, cuddling with his black stuffed bunny plush.Jim motioned for Jim to follow him, and they both entered the room. Host heard that, so he sat up and looked towards the door.âHello?â, he asked softly, tilting his head.
âHey there Hosty!â, Jim said and chuckled softly. The twins were smiling, and hearing them, Host smiled too. He hadnât interacted much with the Jims before, but he knew there were a lot of Jims, and they were all fun.âHi Jim! Hi Jim!â, Host greeted both of them with a smile and waved at them. It made the Jims giggle and smile brightly.
âWe want to play with you! Do you want to come with us?â, Jim asked, crouching in front of Host. The child hummed, thinking.âGoogs wonât be happy...â, he mumbled, pouting a little. He really wanted to go and play with the Jims!âDonât worry about it! Weâll take care of you so Googly wonât have to worry about a thing!â, Jim exclaimed, and Jim nodded with a agreeing hum.âOkay!â, Host trusted the two of them and nodded with a bright smile.
Jim picked Host up then, while Jim stood up again. Jim held Host close against himself and grinned at Jim. They hoped that the other twin Jims had come up with something for them to do with Host, otherwise they would probably just improvise.
So, the Jims carried Host, who happily held onto Jim. He liked being carried a lot, it was comfortable and easy. Such a good thing he was so small!âWhat are we going to play?â, Host asked and tapped his hands on Jimâs back. He was curious as to what they were going to do.âWe~ll.â, Jim hummed and shifted how he held Host.âOur brothers Jim and Jim are going to be there too.â, Jim said then, which made Host giggle softly.âSo weâll be five?â, he asked, curious. Four Jims and him! Thatâd surely be a lot of fun!
Soon enough, the Jims and Host arrived at the studio. Wilford was out doing some live interviews or something, and Bim was probably on the roof in his greenhouse. So, the five of them had the whole studio to themselves.âJim! Jim!â, Host called happily and giggled. He loved how they all had the same name, it was the best kind of confusion.âHost!â, one of the Jims called back, as the other Jim was mute. Host stilled giggled happily and waved at the twins.
When he was set down, there was a big grouphug, smothering the little child. Host didnât mind at all though, as he laughed happily and tried to hug them all as well. He was happy to be playing with someone else other than Google. He loved Google lots! But Host liked being with someone else sometimes too.
âWhat are we gonna do?â, Host asked as he was finally let go. He smiled brightly, excited about what they were going to do. He liked the Jims, they were a lot of fun!âWell me and Jim over here have made a fun little parkour for you! Itâs totally safe with blow up things, so no worries!â, Jim answered with a bright smile.âAnd weâll be doing it with you! Jimâs gonna be a tickle monster, and Jim is going to be your companion, and Jim is going to make sure everythingâs okay, while I am another tickle monster!â, Jim explained, making Host giggle happily and nod.
So they all got into position, and started. Host had to climb over things, crawl through things, get around stuff hanging down. It was a lot of fun, as the ground was also blown up and hard to move on, so Host was either stumbling or crawling.All of the Jims, in the end, turned out to just want to tickle him, making Host laugh until he was breathless.
They were in the middle of the course, one of the Jims tickling Host again, having the little boy squirm and laugh beneath him, when Google walked in. Displeased, arms crossed.âJim.â, Googleâs voice was cold, and all of the Jims stopped what they were doing. Host was still giggling as he tried to catch his breath and calm down.
Google walked up to them and picked Host up, without a complaint from the boy, as he held onto Google and nuzzled into him. He was tired now after all of the laughing he had done.âWhat were you doing?â, Google asked the Jims with a stern gaze.âWe were playing!â, âHost seemed bored!â, âWe were careful and had a lot of fun!â, the Jims replied, and Host giggled softly.âI had a lot of fun with them.â, he said softly, and Google sighed softly.âTell me the next time, please. I worried when I didnât find Host.â, Google said, and all of the Jims let the breath they had been holding go.
âThanks Googly!â, âWeâll take care!â, âUntil next time!â.Host giggled some more, before he yawned softly. It was time for a nap, in his opinion. Google seemed to agree with that thought, as he gently pet Host as they walked back to their room.
âGoogs I-ââI really do not think this is necessary.ââWilfy? Can-ââBut Googly goo! I do think it is!ââExcuse-ââYou are not keeping the primary objective at the front of your mind.ââPlease li-ââOh but I do! I merely think differently than you!â.
Host gave up. Neither Google nor Wilford were listening to him, and simply talked over him.
Host sighed and pouted. He was hungry, and neither Google nor Wilford were listening to him. He sighed and walked away, seeing how no one was paying attention to him anyways. It made him feel bad, and he simply wanted to have something to eat.
Host wandered out of the room and through the hall. His little stomach was growling, and he frowned, wrapping an arm around his stomach. He was so hungry! And there seemed to be no one around who would help him get something to eat.
That was when Dark stepped into the hall. The familiar ringing in the air made Host freeze where he was, pulling his hand away from the wall and close to himself. He was terrified of Dark, he was really scary.
âHost?â, Dark raised an eyebrow as he saw the child, trembling where he stood. It was almost amusing to him, seeing Host so afraid of him.âWhatâs the matter with you? Did Google abandon you finally?â, Dark asked, looking down at the boy.âN-no! He didnât.â, Host frowned and shook his head. âIâm just hungryâŠâ.âHungry?â, Dark thought for a moment. He could use this to his advantage.âHow about I make you something?â, Dark asked with an almost evil smile.
Host looked unsure, fidgeting where he stood. No one else paid any attention to him, and he was really hungry. So why not? Maybe Dark was friendlier than he seemed.âOkay..â, Host nodded. He was hungry, and heâd rather have Dark make him something than not get anything at all.âHow lovely. Would you like to hold my hand, little one?â, Dark asked and offered a hand to Host. The child hesitated, but took Darkâs hand in the end and went with him.
They walked to the kitchen and Dark helped Host sit down onto a chair, while he went to prepare something to eat for the child.âAre you really a meanie?â, Host asked and looked towards Dark, fiddling with his sleeves. He wore another sweater Google had given him.âBut of course not, Host. Even if I do possess a temper, I am not inherently mean.â, Dark replied and chuckled.âAlrightâŠâ, Host replied softly and nodded. He trusted Dark, if only because he was a little bit naive and easily trusted others.
Soon enough, Dark had prepared something simple for Host to eat, and set the plate down in front of Host. The little boy smiled softly and began eating happily.âItâs good!â, Host exclaimed and smiled brightly up to Dark, who smirked in reply.âWhy, thank you.â, Dark said and chuckled softly, laying a head on Hostâs head and gently petting him for a little.Host continued eating happily, finishing the whole plate. He felt much better now that he had eaten something.
âNow, a little boy like you needs a nap after eating something.â, Dark spoke with a hum, taking the empty plate from Host and putting it away.ââm not really tired..â, Host replied, but Dark picked Host up and out of the chair anyways, holding him in his arms, letting him sit on his hip.âNow now, a little boy doesnât know what he needs. So listen to me.â, Dark replied. Host hummed lightly and leaned his head against Darkâs shoulder. If Dark insisted on having him sleep, then Host would sleep. A nap would be alright.
How long do you think it'd take before dark gets tired of the child and tries to change Host back, with any means possible...?
It had been weeks. Weeks. And his source of information was still a child. It frustrated Dark, and made his shell more unstable. He needed Host back as his normal self.
So while Dark knew Google was away fixing one thing or another, he went to Googleâs room, because he knew Host was there. As he opened the door, he spotted the child playing with some blocks in the corner, though Host looked up when he heard the door open.
âHello, Host.â, Dark spoke, voice bittersweet. He stepped closer to Host, and the child scooted backwards, away from Dark.âGo away.â, Host said, not liking this. He didnât like Dark, he was scary and he made his head hurt with the ringing. And it was always so cold when Dark was around too.âThatâs not nice, is it?â, Dark said and chuckled, walking up close to Host. He grabbed Host by his wrists and yanked him up onto his feet, making Host cry out from surprise and a little bit of pain.
âLet go!â, Host cries, tugging at his arm. Heâs almost lifted off his feet when Dark stands up straight, holding him by his wrist. It hurts, he holds him so tightly. It was going to bruise.âLemme go! Please!â, Host is sobbing, blood soaking into his bandages.âI would say Iâm sorry, but Iâm not.â, Dark said and lifted Host off the ground by his wrist, making Host sob even more. âBut I need you as an adult, not this pathetic child.â.
Host was crying, it hurt, and Dark was so mean to him!âGoogs!â, he cried out, and Dark chuckled, not knowing Host knew Google was coming back at any second.And then the door opened.âGoogs! It hurts!â, Host sobbed, and Google glared at Dark as if he were going to kill him. He would, if he dared hurt Host.
âLet him go.â, Google said, voice low. His eyes glowed a dangerous red.âNo.â, Dark replied and turned around to Google. It swung Host lightly, making him cry out and sob. âI let this go on for long enough. Host is of no use to anyone like this.â.Google growled and stepped up to Dark. âHost doesnât need a use. Heâs a person, and a child. Either you live with that, or youâll learn what pain truly is.â, Google snarled, and Host whimpered. He was scared.
Dark scoffed and dropped Host, who sobbed as he hit the ground, collapsing onto the floor. His arm and wrist hurt really badly.âLeave.â, Google growled at Dark, and the man disappeared in shadows with a glare and a frown. As soon as he was gone, Google knelt down next to Host.âHost?â, he spoke softly. He gently helped Host sit up, and he scanned his arm to see if it was dislocated. It thankfully wasnât, but his wrist was going to bruise badly.
âItâs alright now. Heâs gone. Iâll protect you.â, Google spoke softly, pulling Host into a hug. Host held tightly onto Google, sniffing and sobbing softly. Only when he started to calm down, did Google pick him up.âLetâs get some ice for your wrist.â, Google said softly, holding Host tightly against his chest. He left the room after he got a nod from Host.
