A New Warrior For a New World
Title: A New Warrior For A New World
Author: Nakimochiku
Fandom: Avengers
Characters/Pairings: blink and you'll miss it Loki/Tony, Clint/Tony, and Clint/Loki. also, Thor and Natasha and Steve sorta.
Warnings: mind control.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: He doesn't know how Clint can stand it.
Note: it's like doodling in a notebook. >.>
When Tony wakes, he feels like he's gone ten rounds with a grand piano full of bricks and a personal vendetta. He groans and touches his head, and vaguely senses some one shift beside him.
"You were compromised." Natasha says, gently though. He's not sure why, because gentleness is not something he's ever really inspired in her. "Loki--"
"Don’t!" he snaps, and feels sorry when she blinks at him in surprise. "Don't say his name."
I need someone like you, Stark. I need your mind.
Clint understands. They share glances across the hospital room, and he nods at him, once, sharply, and offers nothing more on the subject.
He doesn't know how Clint can stand it. To feel like the very blood in his veins is not his own, that something else, something foreign, something magical (he spits that word, he hates it) magical and fucking Loki is crawling around inside him, leaving scars on the inside of his skull.
It's like being raped. It's like Loki is raping him from the inside out, and he can't even say, can't even think no.
It's guilt inducing.
You will see, Anthony. You will understand. You will be my warrior.
"How did I get out of it?" He asks, because he thinks he ought to know.
If he's being honest, he doesn't think he's gotten out of it. When he closes his eyes, he feels ice in his heart, when he sleeps, Loki is there, demanding he kneel. He would be worried that he wakes up screaming, if it weren't for the fact that it was so before.
"You took a magical hammer to the head." Natasha shrugs, but her eyes are glinting in a way that (reminds him far too much of Loki) says she's secretly amused. Across the room, Thor grins sheepishly.
"If I am to be honest, Man of Iron, I took vindictive pleasure in the blow." Thor informs with that same sheepish smile. Tony wonders how a man so big can look so simultaneously sadistic, and adorable. "You insulted my cape."
That makes Tony laugh. He laughs, and laughs. Laughs until he chokes. Laughs until Steve is telling him to lie back. Laughs until he's almost certain he'd rather be crying.
Crying a very specific word. It curls on his tongue and tastes bitter, and sweet. Ambrosia, or manna. The food of heavens, of gods. He wants to scream that word until his throat is hoarse, wants to scream it with him dying breath as something rears up and seizes him by the heart.
Loki!
You will be my warrior. You suit this world, Anthony. You will fight for me, kill for me, die if need be, is that not so?
He doesn't know how Clint can stand it. He doesn't know how either of them haven't gone insane.
"Was I so amusing?" Thor asks with a clueless tilt of his head, glancing around the room. No one else is laughing.
Clint just gives him that little nod, and this time offers a quirk of his mouth by way of a smile.
It doesn't comfort him. Nothing comforts him. There is only Loki, twisting around inside his sad metal heart, ice and green and magic, taking all he has to offer and then some, and laughing as he does it.
He knows the feeling will never go away.
You are the perfect warrior for the world I will create.
Author: Nakimochiku
Fandom: Avengers
Characters/Pairings: blink and you'll miss it Loki/Tony, Clint/Tony, and Clint/Loki. also, Thor and Natasha and Steve sorta.
Warnings: mind control.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: He doesn't know how Clint can stand it.
Note: it's like doodling in a notebook. >.>
When Tony wakes, he feels like he's gone ten rounds with a grand piano full of bricks and a personal vendetta. He groans and touches his head, and vaguely senses some one shift beside him.
"You were compromised." Natasha says, gently though. He's not sure why, because gentleness is not something he's ever really inspired in her. "Loki--"
"Don’t!" he snaps, and feels sorry when she blinks at him in surprise. "Don't say his name."
I need someone like you, Stark. I need your mind.
Clint understands. They share glances across the hospital room, and he nods at him, once, sharply, and offers nothing more on the subject.
He doesn't know how Clint can stand it. To feel like the very blood in his veins is not his own, that something else, something foreign, something magical (he spits that word, he hates it) magical and fucking Loki is crawling around inside him, leaving scars on the inside of his skull.
It's like being raped. It's like Loki is raping him from the inside out, and he can't even say, can't even think no.
It's guilt inducing.
You will see, Anthony. You will understand. You will be my warrior.
"How did I get out of it?" He asks, because he thinks he ought to know.
If he's being honest, he doesn't think he's gotten out of it. When he closes his eyes, he feels ice in his heart, when he sleeps, Loki is there, demanding he kneel. He would be worried that he wakes up screaming, if it weren't for the fact that it was so before.
"You took a magical hammer to the head." Natasha shrugs, but her eyes are glinting in a way that (reminds him far too much of Loki) says she's secretly amused. Across the room, Thor grins sheepishly.
"If I am to be honest, Man of Iron, I took vindictive pleasure in the blow." Thor informs with that same sheepish smile. Tony wonders how a man so big can look so simultaneously sadistic, and adorable. "You insulted my cape."
That makes Tony laugh. He laughs, and laughs. Laughs until he chokes. Laughs until Steve is telling him to lie back. Laughs until he's almost certain he'd rather be crying.
Crying a very specific word. It curls on his tongue and tastes bitter, and sweet. Ambrosia, or manna. The food of heavens, of gods. He wants to scream that word until his throat is hoarse, wants to scream it with him dying breath as something rears up and seizes him by the heart.
Loki!
You will be my warrior. You suit this world, Anthony. You will fight for me, kill for me, die if need be, is that not so?
He doesn't know how Clint can stand it. He doesn't know how either of them haven't gone insane.
"Was I so amusing?" Thor asks with a clueless tilt of his head, glancing around the room. No one else is laughing.
Clint just gives him that little nod, and this time offers a quirk of his mouth by way of a smile.
It doesn't comfort him. Nothing comforts him. There is only Loki, twisting around inside his sad metal heart, ice and green and magic, taking all he has to offer and then some, and laughing as he does it.
He knows the feeling will never go away.
You are the perfect warrior for the world I will create.