My turn. I will poke you with a knife.
This should be Dalie’s theme song when he’s coming to get someone…
I legit get this vision starting like this: You see it’s kind of cloudy outside, the storm’s just about to roll in. It’s all windy. The wind chimes are kind of blowing in the wind. And someone’s just in the privacy of their home, they’re all alone just relaxing, unsuspecting. They go to their kitchen to make dinner or a snack. And what they don’t know is Dalie is strolling down their block coming closer to their home. He probably encounters someone along the way and takes a moment to bash their brains in (because he’s suck and twisted like that) And this unsuspecting someone is finished making their dinner or snack or whatever so they go to their living room and pop in a movie in their DVD player to watch while they eat and just as they’re going to sit on their couch, their door bell rings. So they’re like “Aww, damn.” They put the movie on pause (and it just happened to pause on a image that looks distorted and creepy) and go to the door and open it. Their eyes widen as they realize it’s Dalie and just before they can say something Dalie grabs their throat and steps inside. Then the unspeakable horrors commence as Dalie shuts the door behind him and makes it so his victim cannot scream as he hurts them. And IDK, I get the visuals of axes, chains, hooks hanging from the ceiling, metal bats, poker sticks and an open fire, incision tools, all sorts of things at Dalie’s disposal. The victim is found in pieces in the morning… or you think you see the victim. It’s not really clear what you see. Most of the front room, the kitchen, the hallway and some parts of the bathroom and bedroom are doused in blood splatter.
Dalie is currently DECEASED. (And Frost is a total creepy psycho.) And I will tell you why:
Some time ago, Frost (princeoffrost) was magic anoned to be “madly in love with” the first Loki he sees on his dash. That Loki just happened to be Dalie.
So Frost tried to make some advances on Dalie. It didn’t go over very well, mostly because Dalie assumed Frost came to attack him so Dalie’s like “What the fuck do you want? Is this about the toe?” (because before that, Dalie randomly attacked Frost and cut off his toe to add to his collection). But it wasn’t and Dalie just dismissed him because he doesn’t care. Frost made a couple advances on Dalie in days after that but Dalie’s not interested in Frost so he basically ignored him.
THEN Dalie got hit with this mortality curse a couple days ago (that gave him cute curly blonde hair in the process). It took away all his strength and everything. Though, he is left with his magical abilities… but that’s not much of a defense for him because his mortal body loses energy quickly when he uses magic.
But Dalie being fearless as he is, he still acts like immortal Dalie by talking the way he does to press the buttons of others and acting vicious and mean like he does even though he can die like really easy.
Then Frostmun and I started a thread where basically Frost had been kind of a creepy stalker toward Dalie for some time (thanks to the m!a curse that makes him “MADLY in love” with Dalie) and noticed Dalie was giving his affections to another, that being Magnus, and was feeling jealous.
So when Dalie became mortal, Frost came after him to force Dalie to love Frost by using the power of the tesseract. He pinned Dalie to a wall and was going to tesseract him but Dalie had his chest-plate on so it didn’t work. Frost told Dalie to take his chest-plate off so Dalie was taking it off, though underneath Dalie’s chest-plate he carries 300 needles (that he carries just for a twin with a phobia of needles) so he pulled two out then he threw them into Frost’s eyes, pulled out a knife and cut his cheek into half a Glasgow smile, and, lastly, he grabbed the scepter and shoved it in Frost’s bottom jaw and then he tried to escape. Frost came after him, knocked Dalie unconscious and tried to tesseract Dalie BUT Dalie had an immunity to the tesseract (thanks to a magic anon) so that didn’t work.
So Frost then abducted Dalie and took him to Frost’s apartment and tied him up. And after some exchanges of words, and Frost getting increasingly pissed off, Dalie just snapped at him to just kill Dalie so Frost ripped Dalie’s heart from Dalie’s chest and Dalie died.
So Dalie is currently deceased. I doubt he will stay that way. I am waiting for Frost or someone to grab up a soul to trade for Dalie’s in Niflheim. Until that happens, Dalie’s dead and his body is in Frost’s apartment with his heart ripped from his chest. How unpleasant. e__e
And that’s the situation. I’m hoping Dalie comes back in time for Tumblr Prom. LOL.))
Death. Death was something that eluded the once-thought. His lys tanke experienced death a few times. He knew of death. He knew where death would lead to. But he never once experienced it himself, despite his relentless, reckless, fearless behavior.
He tried to kill himself several times. Death by fire, by drowning, by acid, by shooting himself several ways, by stabbing himself several ways, by drugs, prescription or not, by bridges, buildings, planes, by ripping his body apart, by starving himself, by snake-pit, by injecting diseases, by automobile accidents, several different types, by jumping from cliffs into rocky ocean floors, by stepping into bombs or even swallowing grenades, by consuming things that would cut him up inside, by letting wild animals tear him to shreds, by placing himself in the middle of war zones, by stepping out in front of trains and speeding cars, by ripping out his own vital organs… A few times, he even cloned himself and had his clones assist in trying to kill him. He did many things, some of them one could not put words to. His attempted suicides racked up to about 156 attempts.
When asked why he tried, why he attempted, why he did what he did, his answer was simple. He was merely testing his limits. The thought of death was a curious thing to the immortal being. He had his lys tanke’s memories of it, how he tried to avoid it, yet Dalie was not one to avoid things most others feared. Dalie was a fearless being. Each failed attempt taught him something about himself, his limits.
And now he was mortal. Death could not come easier to him. And perhaps it would.
The thread I wrote between both of my muses, Liefully and Dalie, involving Dalie confronting Liefully after returning from oblivion is compiled under the cut, under just ONE Read More for anyone who wants to be able to read the whole thread without having to open a ton of tabs.
This thread was hard for me to write. At first it was the awkwardness of roleplaying with myself, basically. Then it became difficult and taxing on my emotions as with each reply, I could feel both muses’ responses at the same time and it was hard to pull them apart from one another for their own turns in each turn and so forth. I also felt terrible for what happened to Liefully. He is my precious baby and I adore him far more than Dalie, so it was horrible to allow Dalie to hurt him to the point that he almost died.
Liefully’s currently suffering some trauma as a result. I do hope he recovers. If he suffers from the trauma longer than a month, then sadly, it shall add to the PTSD he already has…
THE ENTIRE THREAD IS UNDER THE CUT. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SQUEAMISH, CAN’T HANDLE GORE, VIOLENCE, BLOOD, HORROR, ETC. This is pretty graphic. You have been warned.
Here it goes:
There is something I need to discuss with you. Something… something, yes.
…Forgive my uneasiness however conversations with you, I know from the past, never end civilly. I suggest you go. Or I shall.
Oh you can go all you wish. Yes, you can go. However there is no where you may go that I shall not find you ever. Know why that is, true twin of mine? Like yourself, I have the ability to find others. Oh but I cannot find so many as you. However… you are the easiest I may find. I know where you are always. You may try to leave but there is no where you may go that I cannot possibly know you to be. My bond to you is even so strong I know where you are in other universes. Fancy that. So run if you wish. Just know there is no where you may hide yourself from me.
Loki thought for a second the ramifications of his mørk tanke’s words… the gravity of them. He couldn’t accept them. They couldn’t be true. His mørk tanke was only trying to scare him. But it was working and he hated that he could feel his limbs starting to shiver even the slightest. “No. What you speak of… that is not true. How would it be? Would you not use such an ability before time and time again? You lie.”
“Do I lie? Or is the truth simply hard to swallow?” Dalie took a step toward his lys tanke… the light thought, as he was called, whereas Dalie was so often referred to as the dark one. And dark he intended to be. He saw the slight trembling of his lys tanke’s fingers. Excellent, he thought. He had his hands behind his back. He was careful to walk slow, careful so as not to give away the surprise, something he was sure his lys tanke would like… and by would he meant it would not. “I found you when I wanted to find you many times before. You seem to think I want to find you at all times when that is not the case at all. I have many toys to play with, not just you. Though the fact remains, I always know where you are. And I like how I can find… Ehehe… Nevermind. This is about you tonight.”
“If you have so many “toys” why not go play with them instead?” Loki said. He hated the thought of his mørk tanke hurting anyone though he didn’t want to deal with it tonight. Something in the way his mørk tanke was behaving made Loki’s skin crawl in a way it didn’t normally do. He had a bad feeling about this. And now his mørk tanke was suggesting he could not even run away… Usually running away was exactly the only thing he could do and Dalie would not come after him. He could tell something was wrong with this but he didn’t know what. “Why me?” he said without thinking.
“Oh but I want to play with you tonight, lys tanke. Is that so bad? Ehehehe,” Dalie laughed knowing that of course it would be for his lys tanke. “Perhaps ‘this a mixture of pleasure and business, mine lys tanke. Tell me, did you enjoy your past week?”
Loki’s mind flooded with thoughts of the past week. Of course he liked it. He was living a dream. He was married to the one he loved most and the marriage was perfect and unopposed. His daughter was full grown, beautiful, intelligent, and artistically creative, all traits he was proud to see in her. And of course no interruptions from his mørk tanke or any enemies for that matter… then again there was Thanos that one time… The brief thought made his heart race and he realized he spoke to Thanos without fear… he felt a little confused then somewhere in his mind he told himself to snap out of it and focus on the situation at hand.
Dalie, his mørk tanke, was standing in front of him, talking to him… and it was clear he had some ill intentions. Loki pondered what to say… What could there be said? He felt like Dalie’s question wasn’t really important… this was just Dalie’s idle chit-chat before horrific events to come… “I… uh. It was all right.” He decided to water it down. He kept his breathing as regular as possible, even though he feared where this conversation would lead. He hated how he felt trapped, unable to run. And he knew he probably couldn’t move to attack Dalie, to stop him, as Dalie was often times an unstoppable force. Something told him no matter what he did, he would only be stalling the inevitable anyway.
Dalie leaned forward a little bit. Speaking the question was enough to get the answer he really needed. His lystanke may be well reserved with words on the outside to him yet his mind spoke volumes and Dalie read them. So this was the week he missed… His lys tanke living some type of pleasant fantasy while he himself was stuck in oblivion. He trekked a little further in his lys tanke’s mind. He was certain now this was the twin who would have the answer to his biggest question. All the other twins he encountered were clueless. He almost missed it, a brief moment of confusion for his lys tanke. But there it was… a spell and it was cast a week ago… just at the same time, he took note, that he disappeared for the first time. He knew with certainty now he found the reason for his disappearance now.
“Oh… only all right, dearest lys tanke?” Dalie asked. “The flicker in your eyes there suggested otherwise…”
Loki still didn’t want to say too much. There was perhaps a reason his mørk tanke was making an effort to press on about the topic, even if he didn’t know what that reason could be. “Some highlights perhaps, not much misfortune as weeks before.” He was hoping his mørk tanke would leave it at that.
“Let me tell you how my week was. Do not worry, the story is short. I spent my week in nonexistence. Only it was not nonexistence for me, I was still existent, however to everyone else I was not. Do you know what that is like? No, you do not. I know you do not for I have your memories. And not a single one amounts to what the oblivion I experienced is like,” Dalie said. He surprised himself with the bitterness of his words. He was tired of speaking though, he let what he held in his hands drop to the floor behind him, chains. Then with great might, he swung the chains forward with one arm. They slid across the floor seizing hold of his lys tanke’s ankles and wrapping around them several times. The loop was loose but enough for Dalie to yank him off his feet.
Loki listened to his mørk tanke’s words though they made little sense to him. He did seem a bit upset about his situation though… Was that not an emotion? Before Loki had a chance to retort, he heard the sound of chains dropping to the floor. Against his control, his mind flashed back to his tortures by Thanos, whenhe was chained and hung. For a moment, he thought he could feel the blood hitting his fac once more. He forced himself out of the memory only to be assaulted by the chains that triggered it. He hit the floor hard when his mørk tanke yanked at his legs, they hurt momentarily to be pressed together so tight by the yank. His head hit the floor and for a second he was dizzy. He shifted to his side a bit and leaned on his elbow, his mind frantic with with the fact that he had little options… he could not run, he could not hide, and his mørk tanke was certainly stronger than he was.
Dalie pulled on the chain as he walked toward his fallen lys tanke. He reached him and then swung the chain around his lys tanke’s neck. His lys tanke protested at first, trying to take the chain off but he swiftly kicked his bottom jaw so hard his lys tanke’s hair tossed forward with the force as his head threw back. Dalie looped the chain around his lys tanke’s neck once again then pressed the heel of his foot into his lys tanke’s cheek and tightened the chain. His lys tanke made a gasp for breath and reached up to pull his foot away. He yanked his foot from his lys tanke’s grasp and instead ground the heel of his boot into the palm of his lys tanke’s hand, twisting his arm into the ground as he stepped onto his lys tanke’s hand. He twisted his boot as he added his weight to his lys tanke’s pinned hand.
As if feeling the chain wrap around his neck wasn’t bad enough, his mørk tanke wasn’t going to let him take it off. With the kick that met his bottom jaw, he could have sworn some of his teeth chipped when forced against each other. He unintentionally bit off some small part of his tongue and his eyes watered from the incredible sting of pain that caused as his mouth began to fill with the salty taste of blood. He whimpered a little bit and spat out the blood and small bit of his tongue. It made his stomach sick to see. He was slightly distracted by the press of Dalie’s boot against his cheek, the feeling of the dirt, grime, and gravel that Dalie’s boot had picked up was now rubbing a little irritatingly on his cheek. He gasped for air when the chain tightened around his throat. He felt the hotness of pain that surrounded his jaw also spread to his neck from the tension caused by the tightening of the metal chain. His hands reached up instinctively to remove his mørk tanke’s boot from his face only to have his grasp shaken off and one of his hands met with the same boot. His arm was twisted in the process. It hurt a great deal as his mørk tanke dug and twisted his heel into Loki’s hand. He could feel skin ripping and veins painfully stretching. His mind struggled now to think. The pain he felt in his jaw, his tongue, his neck, and his hand was making thought difficult. He could only manage to make himself speak a single question, “Why are you doing this?”
“Kik, kik, kik, kik, after I told you about oblivion? All right, that is not the reason, no. That is not. I just want to see blood. Your blood, yes. And so I shall for I get what I want, especially by force if need be… And ooh… I like to use force,” Dalie cooed.
With that last sentence, Dalie summoned a crowbar. He let the tool slide through his grasp to where he held its end. He held his arm back, the crowbar like an extension of his arm, and let himself focus energy to his arm. Then with a sudden swinging motion, he made certain the crowbar’s hooked end made contact with his lys tanke’s stomach. The force of the impact made his lys tanke slide an inch or two back though the hook of the crowbar refused to let him slide further as it was stuck inside his gut. Dalie kicked his lys tanke’s face again when he cried out in pain. His lys tanke laid flat on his back, unable to support himself on his elbow so Dalie took the liberty to step on his chest and twist the crowbar’s hook from facing his lys tanke’s kidney to face his lys tanke’s heart then began to forcibly pull the crowbar toward his lys tanke’s chest.
Loki’s eyes widened as he saw his mørk tanke holding the crowbar. He was about to speak as Dalie wound his arm back, as if there were some combination of words he may say to stop him, but the swing was so fast and forceful, it knocked the breath right out of him. Now the searing pain was in his stomach. His vision blurred with tears forming in his eyes, though refusing to fall. His head throbbed as his brain was getting signals of pain everywhere and it was like an overload of sensory information. This was bad… this was very bad… though Loki could recall worse times… He flopped onto his back as it was difficult to focus energy to prop himself on his arm and deal with all the pain he felt burning him alive. It seemed his jaw and neck were the least of his problems as his mørk tanke began to twist the crowbar, tampering with tissue, muscle, and possibly organs as he did so, and then ripping Loki’s abdomen open. Loki pressed his head into the floor and screamed, much as he hated to.His scream broke into a slightly hysterical sob that was difficult in itself to make with the pressure on his chest. The tears refusing to leave his eyes earlier escaped the corners of his eyes and nested into his hair.
Loki wasn’t certain how much more of this he could take. He had taken beatings similar to this before. Naturally, if he had his way, he would avoid them at all costs. Yet he could not visibly see his options now. He clamped his hands onto his mørk tanke’s ankle again and focused what energy he had in forcing Dalie’s leg off of his chest, also hoping to knock Dalie off balance.
Dalie felt his lys tanke grabbing his leg as he persisted to rip open his gut even further. The crowbar stopped at his bottom rib. Dalie was about to stark breaking bones when his foot was forcibly pushed off. He slipped, his side slamming on top of his lys tanke, who let out a wheeze from the pressure. Dalie could hear his lys tanke’s ribs crack from him falling on top of him. He lifted himself off and sat on his knees, looking down at his lys tanke. He shook his head and waited for the other to look at him. When finally their eyes met, Dalie delivered a punch to his lys tanke’s face then brought his fist to his own chest and cracked his knuckle. His lys tanke seemed a little slower now, perhaps the cracked ribs made it harder for him to move… Sometime during his fall, the crowbar slipped out from his lys tanke’s gaping wound. Dalie picked the tool up, lifted it above his head and swung it into his lys tanke’s gut again. This time he slightly twisted the crowbar and then violently yanked it upward, tearing skin and muscle with it. He proceeded to wail on his lys tanke, tearing up his abdomen with several blows and subsequent ripping outs. At some point during the numerous swings, Dalie’s face turned to a deadpan stare, devoid of everything. Devoid like the nothingness he was in for a week. His actions were just actions, repetitiv, he lost thought a while ago. He didn’t cease until he looked down and took notice that his lys tanke’s abdomen looked like a gnarled bunch of unidentifiable meat drowned in blood.
Loki instantly regretted his action to force his mørk tanke off his feet when he landed on him. He felt perhaps five or more ribs crack, maybe even break. Suddenly breathing was all the harder. Every breath felt like agony, he wished he didn’t have to move his chest at all to inhale or exhale. Then he started getting impaled several times with the crowbar. He screamed in pain, and by screaming he made it worse for himself, for that required moving his already crushed chest and straining vocal chords against a tight chain. His hands became shaky as he couldn’t think of what to do and the pain was so intense it fogged his mind. All he could think of was the pain he felt, his mind reeled on it. All he could do was cry out. Tears streamed from the sides of his face in a frequent flow and soon he felt blood in his throat. He wanted to reach up and stop the beating, but it felt like all his energy was drained somehow.
Dalie dropped the crowbar at his side. He leaned forward toward his lys tanke’s face and smirked a little. The pain he was exhibiting was something Dalie saw in many others. It never really got old for him to see, though over time the excitement of bringing it out fled and soon it just became some odd force of habit for him. He did not gain from it as he used to though it was still something he did. It was predictable to some degree. If he does a certain thing, it elicits a certain response. Of that, he could be sure of whereas many other things in life were uncertain and even confusing. Torture seemed to be something he understood and felt comfortable with. Of course, he found amusement in it to some degree. Though going as far with this as he was with his lys tanke, the amusement was not so much the goal anymore. Now it was just seeing how far this can go.
He grabbed a hold of the chain that was wrapped doubly around his lys tanke’s neck. His lys tanke protested by grabbing his arm. He ignored him. Instead he twisted the chain’s ends together and then wrapped his fingers around the chain. As one who could lift over 50 tons, crunching this metal chain together wasn’t much effort to him. The metal links buckled under the pressure of his tightening fist. He made it so the chain was stuck together so it’d stay on his lys tanke’s neck. There was still a long end of the chain, sort of forming some manner of leash.
Dalie got up once he was done crunching the metal links together and drug his lys tanke by the chain across the floor. He did this intentionally to bother his lys tanke, more than choke him. He shared the memories of his lys tanke and knew of his tortures several months prior. This action was sure to irk him in a way, remind him of being dragged by chains across floors, hot or cold floors, floors with grates, all sorts of floors, all of which were unpleasant for his lys tanke. He stopped short of the wall and looked up to the ceiling and waved his hand briskly, using magic to summon a hook attached to it. He swung one end of the chain toward the hook then hoisted his lys tanke off the floor with it. He pulled his lys tanke high enough that he had to stand on his tip toes not to choke.
Loki wasn’t certain what to think of the momentary break in his assault. His mørk tanke proceeded to crunch the metal chain’s ends together. His mind was still fogged with all the pain he felt to make anything of that gesture. His abdomen felt uncomfortable as well as extremely painful. He could feel hot blood pooling and turning cool. His whole abdomen felt on fire yet cold at the same time, his mind couldn’t make sense of it. And with his ribs cracked, he was certain there was internal bleeding all over his torso, not just his lower abdominal region. Part of him now wished he had at least attempted to run, even if his mørk tanke made it seem clear he would chase after him. He stopped dwelling and came back to to the present situation when he felt himself being dragged across the floor. A most unpleasant chill ran through him as the feeling as way too familiar. He cried out and grabbed at the chain and kicked his heels a little in a weak fit, but for the most part, Loki was too drained from the impalement and inability to breath well to do much. He felt a cold sweat break out across his forehead as his mind reeled on horrific memories.
He watched from the ground as his mørk tanke summoned a hook. He didn’t have to say anything, or do anything yet for Loki to know exactly what he was going to do. He started to whisper “no” a few times before Dalie began to do exactly what he speculated he would do. Then he was slowly and painfully forced from a horizontal position to a vertical one. He clung to his abdomen, as it felt as though it could fall apart while he was forced into this position. Being forced to stand was excruciating and difficult for him, but he tried his best to stay on his toes or face choking and with breathing as hard as it already was, he didn’t want to add to it.
The tears streamed down his cheeks now as he stood feebly. This needed to stop but how? He needed to find some way to make Dalie stop… Somehow. “Please… mørk tanke… please stop… What do…” Loki inhaled and winced from the pain of it, “What do… you want? …What… could I do… to make you… stop? Please… tell me…” His bottom lip began to quiver as he couldn’t speak any more, his words starting to sound a bit pathetic.
Dalie paused. Hmm… a bargain perhaps with the lys tanke… He did not expect a plea like that, not that he expected anything but blood and screams of agony, both of which he got. He gave it some thought. There were many things he could continue to do. His lys tanke was a little more durable compared to some of the others his victimized.Why one night when I can chance his suffering a while hence?
A smile crept on his face, “All right, lys tanke. Because you are special, yes, special… I shall grant you an offer. One thing or the other.” He held out his right hand, summoning the crowbar he left behind to it. “One choice is this. I continue to beat you. Death becomes you, maybe… Nay, most likely. I think with this option, you will go back to Niflheim… And I shall see to it no one knows you have ceased living… oh… yes, because I am a great actor. I shall make them believe I am you for some time… only long enough for when time to retrieve you has run out. And there in Niflheim you stay for eternity. The other option… maybe sweeter, maybe. Revoke your immunity. You know the one… the one for malicious magical greyfaced beings. Cease it, and take not another. If you do take another… all right, a week at most, but not week after week. I shall come for you and beat you like this or worse again.” He tossed the crowbar up and caught it when gravity returned it. “All right? Those are your choices. Death forever or revoking your immunity.”
…Fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck… Loki didn’t like the sounds of either of those options… He was about to question the potential of his mørk tanke’s ability to actually mimic him then he recalled that time his own lover was fooled… He so liked his immunity… he hated the idea of giving it up since it did help him deter many obnoxious and potentially harmful magical spells, but he didn’t want to give up his life instead. “Fine… if you stop this… if you… leave me alone… I will… remove my immunity.”
“All right, lys tanke. I shall cease,” Dalie tossed the crowbar to the side. He stepped to his lys tanke and grabbed a hold of the chain that hung him. “Before I let you down, say the words.”
“I… I no longer… wish to have… my immunity,” Lokis poke between difficult breaths. As sad as it was, he preferred that to permanent death. He closed his eyes, thinking for a second his mørk tanke would perhaps go back on what bargain they came to and would instead tear him apart. The crowbar was not far…
“Very good, lys tanke,” Dalie said. He grabbed the chain he mangled with his fist earlier and used both hands to rip it apart. He let his lys tanke drop to the floor. He was mildly amused by his lys tanke’s thought that he would still continue. The thought did cross his own mind for a second. Only a second though. He thought something better. “A deal is a deal. No more immunity, no more beating. You should perhaps see to it that gets fixed,” Dalie pointed to his lys tanke’s torn up injuries. And with that, he left.
____________________________________________________________
AFTERMATH: (Liefully:)
Loki was thankful his mørk tanke left his presence. He sobbed a bit quietly and stiffly with his back flat on the floor. He was too weak to really do anything. Being forced to stand when one could barely breathe took a lot of energy out of him, energy that was already in short supply. Loki was a little grateful he could lay on the floor, though gravity pushed on his broken rib cage more while he was down than when he was standing. Each breath was met with sharp pains that made him wince.
He didn’t want to look at the mess his abdomen was in… feeling the pain of it all was enough. He was almost certain vital organs were damaged. It disturbed him how he could feel his own blood everywhere in his lower abdominal region. It somehow seemed to add some awkward weight, some type of pressure, while at the same time confusing his senses with what temperature he was feeling. He could not tell any longer if it was a searing hot or an icy cold he felt.
He lifted one of his hands to his neck and loosened the tightness of the chains that choked him for so long. He lacked the energy to do much else. The blood taste in his mouth was still sickening. His tongue was swollen from having some part of it unwillingly bitten off. His mind ached with all the sensory details that he could barely process. It seemed like everything hurt. He didn’t want to move and he didn’t know what to do.
Help me, please. Someone please help me.
Loki trembles under the knife’s point as it glides teasingly over his cheek; his eyes flutter shut as it moves down over his body. He whimpers and presses his body into his twin’s, anticipating the cold bite of the metal edge into his skin. He senses the other’s face so near to his and parts his lips reflexively, expecting a kiss. He takes in the barest little gasp at the unexpected feel of his twin’s nose pressed to his lips, but says nothing, thinking of reaching up to touch him, to—
He hisses in pain once the knife is buried in his flesh, but when he reaches up to grip his twin’s arm, the most agonizing pain he has ever felt flares into his throat. He sees, through blurred vision, the dripping knife in Dalie’s hand, and staggers back, confused.
Anger surfaces, with the fear, and Loki attempts to snarl, but it comes out in a horrendous, choked sound. His mouth is filled with blood then, and when he coughs, he is blinded by pain. He curls in on himself reflexively, muscles tight; he has been reduced to a bleeding, whimpering mess.
“Oh I am sorry. Did you hope I may ‘quench my thirst for blood’ with you some other way?” Dalie leaned a little forward, mocking his suffering twin. He smirked at the mortal who fled from near him and his twin, though paid no further mind to he who was chained to him and had decided to take to the corner of the room with a simple “Nope.” Let him decide to watch if he so wanted, or cover his eyes. The mortal would have no choice but to remain in the room with him and his bleeding twin.
He leaned back from the twin and licked his twin’s blood from the knife then grabbed his twin’s arm and began to twist it as he forced his twin from the wall. “Come now, surely you wanted me to have my way with you. Is this more than you had in mind?” He shoved the knife in his twin’s stomach then punched his twin’s arm so hard with his fist, he broke his twin’s bone. It was a moment like this, he was thankful his own bones were more durable than those of most of his twins, though he still managed to break the flesh from his own knuckle, having made contact with some manner of button or buckle on his twin’s arm. He grabbed the bend of his twin’s elbow and gripped his wrist with his other hand then pulled his twin’s broken arm apart, the cloth of his sleeve tearing with his arm and his cuff falling to the floor with a couple clanking sounds in the process. Blood hit Dalie’s face from the profuse bleeding of his twin’s stub of an arm.
liefullyloki 