#sleipniir

the phantom of the opera starters - accepting

✖ I dunno whether this is for the dark sentence starters or intimidation meme, since I reblogged them both at the same time so like….. if it’s for the intimidation meme, please don’t be intimidated! I’m nice and I really wanna write with you I just have like 0 social skills so I’m terrible at asking to plot and I get anxious when sending asks to people I’ve not interacted much with before xD

If it was for the dark sentence starters then just let me know and I’ll do you a post with one of them! :) (sorry this has taken so long to get to, Uni has been a bitch)

❛ &. ┊ Soft is the hum of a voice as the resemblance of an old herding call reverberates gently in the back of a throat, but quieter, absentminded. Fingertips curl round a kettle from which pours boiling water into a pot filled with leaves and dried berries. Eyes tired, though rests in them a once long forgotten quietude; and she’s always been a morning person. One to enjoy the first rays of sunshine -- or the cool breeze of a winter morn when the sun refused to peek its eyes over the mountains for hours and hours to come. Eventually, settles she a mug with tea on the wooden table that stands on the balcony where he guest sits, lips not short of a meagre smile. “ Seeing you really reminds me of home, Sleipnir. Of the best parts of it, at least. ”

Thor had explicitly instructed his nephew to stay behind on Asgard, to allow him to travel to Midgard and bring his father home. Perhaps too much his father’s son, Sleipnir wasn’t too keen on being told what to do. A year had passed, an entire year that Sleipnir had spent inmourning. To now learn that his father was very much ALIVE, nothing short of chains and a cell could stopped him from going to find him.

There was relief in knowing that Loki was alive. The rest of the emotions he was experiencing were far more complex. There had been many transgressions on his father’s part, all of which lead up to this precise moment.

Tall, war-worn frame leaned up against the broken window, eyes scanning the scene below. Gaze lifted towards the sky, muscle in his jaw twitching. Sleipnir was starting to think that maybe his uncle had been right.

Hulk had leapt from the tower, rejoining the fight. Father and son were now alone together. Sleipnir took a step back from the ledge, glass crunching loudly beneath his feet. With a hand pressed to his front, blood seeping out through his fingers, he slowly crossed the room with a heavy limp– wounds he had incurred fighting off Loki’s Chitauri army. Coming to a halt at his feet, Sleipnir looked down at Loki where he lay, towering above him.

Sleipnir had inherited his silver-tongue, yet in this moment, all words failed him. Looking down into his father’s face, holding unwavering eye contact, silently daring Loki to speak first and break the heavy silence between them.

It was like waking up from a nightmare. 

It was the first time he felt truly powerless. Thanos had used the Mind Stone to control him, exploiting his weaknesses to ensure that his will was carried out. The last thing he remembered was looking up at Ebony Maw, the grey skin stretched taut over an oblong skull, all while cold, cruel laughter rang in his ears. Now, it was his son he was looking at, bruised and bloodied like he’d been through war. From the sounds he was hearing in the background, it did seem like a fight was going on.

                     “Sleipnir.”

Faint recognition was made as he struggled to get up. But he’d been tossed around like a rag doll encased in tin, and his body wasn’t ready to get up just yet. He lay there, shame and fear coming over him. The last thing he wanted was for his son to see him like this: pathetic and defeated, a desperate prince wishing only for acceptance from a father that was never his. A tear might have slid down his cheek as he forced himself to sit up and get out of the small crater, but it was gone as quickly as it had formed.

                      “You must not be here.”

If Odin knew you were…

Those words were never said. He knew that Sleipnir was favored among all the steeds in the stables, and he’d been relieved that his son was accepted and not shunned. Now, he knew how quickly that favor could be rescinded, and he didn’t want Sleipnir to go through the same rejection he had. Finally on his feet, Loki looked at his son in the eye and tilted his head towards the balcony. A clear sign that he should leave and keep his connection to the Allfather unbroken.

As much as he appreciated Sleipnir’s efforts to find him, he wasn’t going to risk taking the Allfather’s favor away.