akingsmischief replied to your post: “… You idiot boy,”….
Loki’s teeth snapped together loudly, painfully, when he felt the cold hand grip his. “Don’t waste your energy on speaking, you fool,” he hissed, voice teetering on hysteria, “There must be some way for me to muster enough magic to heal you.”
“Loki…” Peter said calmly, “They…they got me…” looking down to his chest, blood pouring from two punctures, pierced completely through. “It’s okay…I’m done…dying…” he smiled, “I died protecting them…” his hand pointed in the distance, “That’s…that’s okay…” he chuckled, “I wouldn’t have it any other way” Peter coughed, blood dripping from his mouth.
“I said enough!” The God’s voice roared out around them, his free ghosting over the gushing puncture wounds, throat quivering against his skin. For once he was at a loss of words, bile and anger and unwanted distress coursing through his veins. “You will…” How the God wanted to promise the boy that he would be okay, how he would live. But as his hand, weak with magic, examined his flesh he knew the wounds were too great to be healed with his powers. “Enough speaking, and if you do not listen I will bound your mouth shut.”
“Ch-..Cheer up, pa-” Peter could no longer speak, he looked at Loki with a smile still on his lips. The brightness in Peter’s eyes left almost instantly, his head falling back, one last shuddered breath leaving his mouth.
Loki stared down at Peter, a stray tear rolling done his cheek. “You will feel no pain, Peter Parker,” he told him, voice strangely calm as his hand began to glow with a soft green light, hovering over both the wounds. The God remained silent for some time, putting all his energy into keeping his promise to the hero. “You are too young to encounter this fate,” he talked aloud, as if to himself as he closed his eyes, Peter’s haggard breathing filling his ears, “Feeling pushing aside thoughts of reason; you knew this end would come yet you did not hesitate. Farewell, the hero Peter Parker, you have taught me much more than I was ready for-“
Loki’s breath hitched when he heard the last breath. Suddenly the world was eerily quiet, now the only sound was the breathing of one. Opening his eyes, Loki finally looked down at the lifeless body of the spider boy, feeling his cold hand above his own. And Loki snapped.
He turned his head upward and screamed, the pain clear in his voice. “I could have saved him if it were not for your wretched curse, Odin!” Loki could no longer be around the boys corpse, bolting upright and staggering as pain flooded his chest. Sparks of green magic crackled on his shoulders and his fingertips, breathing labored. He needed to destroy, cause destruction to bury this grief deep inside him where even he could forget.
Yet all his did was turn away, letting a last tear fall and walking off into the night.
(Source: spideysblog, via spideysblog)