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thethingaboutmagic · 4 years

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Warnings: ANGST, death

As we exited the quinjet, the sky shifting from dusty purple to pale pink, I took Loki’s hand in mine as a reminder that things would be okay in the end. It was cold and limp where mine was not, but I did not let go because letting go meant defeat and I refused to lose him. So I held onto that cold, limp hand and told him I loved him over and over again. And I did. I loved him with all my heart and soul and mind combined. Not a part of me wasn’t a part of him, and I prayed he was aware of that.

“Where are you taking him?” I asked, but I knew exactly where we were going because I’d gone there a thousand times before. This was a question to fill the silence, a question to take my mind off of the blood on my hands.

To Loki only I said, “You’re going to be okay. I promise you’re going to be okay.” But doubt was starting to settle in, and my heart was slowly coming to a stop. But I didn’t care. If his heart stopped, so would mine.

“We’re here,” someone announced. I never understood why hospital rooms were painted white. To be on one’s deathbed surrounded by white felt like an omen, a calling directly from the heavens. It felt like a joke; Loki, a god, being called home by God.

“He’s lost too much blood,” I mumbled. “It’s on my hands. He needs it back. Take it back.” But no one did. The blood stayed exactly where it was. Stains on my arms and elbows and clothes. My hair was matted with it, and the underneath of my fingernails were black. “Please, take it back.”

This air in my lungs makes me selfish. I want to take it out and give it to him, but I can’t. His chest won’t rise, and another someone is telling me to get back, but I stay where I am and imagine his chest is still rising and falling when it’s not. And the world shatters. The ground beneath my feet fractures into a million little lines and the sky is now a deep crimson. It’s raining, but only where I stand, and the storm is growing, and I am shrinking and my heart is breaking and I am dying.

But that’s okay because I can see Loki now, the Loki I know. He is smiling, the corners of his mouth turned upward where only I can see.

Everything is going to be okay because I promised him it would be, and it is.

Because we are going home.

Together.

#lokixreader #lokidrabble #drabble #angst #death #loki

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thethingaboutmagic · 4 years

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SUMMARY: Reader isn’t sure how to tell Thor how she feels, so she decides buying him something for Valentine’s Day will do the trick.

Hearts filled every available space in the kitchen, their round edges plump and pink like puckered lips waiting for a kiss. On the center of the island sat a poorly painted ceramic heart twice the size of a watermelon. Instead of pink, it was an angry red like blood, which was ironic to say the least. I pictured a giant somewhere clutching its gaping chest, wondering why someone would steal its most vital organ and use it as a cheap Valentine’s Day decoration.

“What is this?” I asked Tony. He faltered on the ladder propped against the sink. He was holding a ribbon, but he let it fall when he turned; gravity slowed as the fabric drifted toward the garbage disposal.

“Uh, Pepper said I don’t take Valentine’s Day seriously, so I figured I’d surprise her,” he shrugged, eyeing his handy work. Honestly, it looked like a convenience store holiday sales pitch threw up all over the place, but Tony looked a little too proud for me to burst his bubble, so I nodded and gave him a weak smile.

“You did...good.” I could’ve sworn I’d bitten a hole in my tongue trying to keep my thoughts to myself. I glanced down at my jeans to make sure they hadn’t caught fire. Surprisingly, they were the same faded blue as before.

“I know,” said Tony, and it’s the exact thing I was expecting to come out of his mouth because Tony loves himself too much to be imperfect.

I changed the subject. “Have you seen Thor?” I leave out why I’m looking for him; there’s no way in hell I’d give Tony a reason to talk shit. In my bedroom was a gift, something only meant for Thor and no one else. Amongst the Avengers, I’m better known for my lack of “understanding” and “compassion” and my “inability to connect with others.” So I stuck to the minimal questions and prayed that Tony did in fact know where Thor was.

“He’s training. You know, working on the big guns? Trying to...get that bread?”

“You’ve been hanging out with Peter haven’t you?”

“That’s none of your business.”

And like almost every other conversation Tony and I have had, it ended as soon as it began. I took two of Nat’s special shakes (a whole lot of vodka with a smidge of orange juice) out of the fridge and started heading toward the elevator. Unfortunately, I wasn’t the only one going down. One awkward ride with a newbie agent and a couple of swigs of one of Nat’s shakes later, I was stepping out onto the third floor. Across from the elevator was a giant wall of glass. Through the wall, I could see Thor going at it with an innocent punching bag. His black tank top was soaked through with sweat, and his standard grey shorts were hanging low on his waist. There was something about seeing Thor in anything other than his traditional Asgardian armour that always threw me for a loop. Not that he looked bad, he just looked off.

If I let my mind wander a bit I could almost imagine he was just another dumb jock, but I knew that wasn’t true. Though he looked like the average American football star and sometimes acted like an imcompetent child, he was smart. And strong. And brave.

And incredibly attractive.

I mean, he could turn any room full of women into the Atlantic.

I banged on the glass with my fist and watched as Thor nearly jumped out of his skin. “Hey, thunder. I brought booze!” I threw open the door and stepped into the gym. Thor met me halfway with a bone crushing hug; he smelled awful but I wasn’t going to complain. Being in his arms felt like literal heaven, all safe and warm and comfortable like nothing in the world could touch us as long as we stayed right where we were.

He pulled away, and my body immediately went cold. He took one of the shakes from my hand and shook his head.

“Dear friend, how many times must I remind you your Midgardian booze is like water to me?” he scolded, but he was smiling and so was I.

“So does that mean you don’t want to drink with me anymore?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Good. You’re literally the only person here I can drink with without me having to become someone’s babysitter.” Flashes of Clint attempting to shoot a fire hydrant with an arrow passed through my mind. I could practically hear Natasha now swearing on her life that she was the best at hide-n-seek; I’d spent half the night trying to find her. She’d been in one of the washing machines in the basement the whole time.

Thor’s booming laugh shook me out of my reverie. “I assure you a man of my nature needs no babysitter.”

“That’s good to know, Thor,” I said. “But, anyways, I actually came here to tell you I have something for you.”

One of Thor’s brows lifted as he took a sip of his shake. “A gift? What is the occasion?”

Fuck. I didn’t even take into consideration that he might not have understood earth holidays. Why, oh why, did I think this was a good idea? This is a perfect example of why I’m an Avenger and not a teacher.

“Well,” I started but had to stop and take a deep breath. “On earth we do this thing called Valentine’s Day where we sort of give gifts to the people we care about.”

“Ah, I see. Forgive me, but I did not get anyone anything.”

I peeled my eyes away from the floor to look up at Thor. He was frowning, the space between his brows pulled together.

“No, you’re fine,” I assured him. “Normally, people give people gifts on Valentine’s Day because they-well, they- uhm, they...maybesortofhaveamajorcrushonthem.” The last part came out in a rush, and I somewhat hoped Thor hadn’t been able to make out what I’d said, but of course he did. He was a god.

“But you say you’ve gotten a gift for me. Does that mean-”

I didn’t give him a chance to finish before I began rambling on about how sorry I was for pushing my feelings on him and how it was totally okay if he didn’t feel the same and how I kept the receipt and could return the gift if he didn’t want it. By that point, my face was the color of a ripe tomato and my hands were trembling. I hadn’t realized Thor was only a few inches away until he leaned down and pressed his lips against mine. My mind went into autopilot.

The walls began to melt and the dumbbells on the rack behind me were turning white and all the colors were melding together to form one big ball of blinding light and my body was on fire and I couldn’t feel my toes. Hands were in my hair, but I could barely register what was happening because my heart was thumping in my chest louder than I could handle and I couldn’t focus. My lips moved against his like petals desperate for rain. Somewhere outside thunder roared in the sky. Whether from the storm brewing in my chest or an actual storm, I would never know, but I wanted to drown in it and never come up for air because this was heaven.

All too soon Thor pulled away. His fingers were still tangled in my hair; he pulled my forehead to his, and I let him because I couldn’t bear not having a part of him not touching a part of me.

“Don’t apologize,” he whispered. I had no idea what I’d apologized for, but I nodded my head and promised I wouldn’t do it again.

He carefully moved his hand to my waist and smiled.

“I’d like to see this gift if that’s alright with you.”

I wanted to stay still. To press my thumb to my lips to hold his kiss in place. But Thor was tugging me toward the exit and into the elevator, and before I knew it, we were standing at the end of my bed and I was handing him the small, black box that I’d picked out two days ago.

He took the necklace out of the box and slipped it around his neck, the silver lightning bolt charm brushing against his chest.

As I stand here now in my white dress while Thor lifts the veil away from my face, I can’t help but look at that charm and remember that Valentine’s Day and that kiss and that fluttering feeling in my heart that I know will never go away.

I thank my lucky stars for those few sips of Nat’s shake I had in the elevator and say, “I do.”

#thorxreader #thor #valentinesday #tonystark #ironman #thorimagine

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thethingaboutmagic · 4 years

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What Lurks in the Dark Lurks in the Day

Warning: dark, slight mentions of sexual harassment and murder

I know this story doesn’t exactly fit with my page’s aesthetic, but I was really proud of it and wanted to post it here, so enjoy and don’t be scared to show some love. I’d really appreciate some honest feedback:)

The Monster dwelled in the darkest corner of the closet, its razor like claws sinking into the soft fabric of a bright pink blouse. It liked to pretend that the Girl on the other side of the door couldn’t hear its deep growls and high pitched squeals, that maybe that was why she never came to investigate, but something wasn’t right about her. She didn’t jump when the Monster pounded on the walls. She didn’t run away when the closet door would seemingly open on its own. And she oddly enough didn’t seem bothered by the fact that the Monster would ruin her prettiest shirts and fanciest skirts and chew her expensive heels. She simply ignored everything as if it never happened in the first place.

Until that one night. That one night that scared the Monster far more than the Monster ever scared the Girl.

Angry storm clouds had begun to roll in, and the flashing cracks of lightning outside of the Girl’s window were the only source of light in the entire room. The Monster was sleeping peacefully in its corner, awaiting the return of the Girl who had gone away for the night to spend time with a friend, when the sound of shattering glass filled its ears and alerted him of the Girl’s return. It could hear her stumbling about the lower level of the house, her heavy footsteps echoing across the floor as she made her way toward the stairs. Her harsh intake of breath as she entered the room was the signal for the Monster to slowly open the closet door and growl lightly.

This time, the Girl took notice.

Lowering her purse to the ground, she dragged herself to the closet door and frowned. A small puddle began to form at her feet, a coppery scent intruding on the Monster’s senses and filling his mouth with saliva. The Girl did not hesitate to pull open the door, exposing the Monster who was now standing tall before her. The Girl did not scream or run in fear.

She simply sighed and muttered angrily, “What are you doing in here? The real monsters are out there.” She motioned to the window.

Only when she spoke did the Monster finally see her. The small pool at her feet was not urine as it had suspected, but blood. Her right eye and lips were swollen and her thighs possessed awful bruises that closely resembled harsh fingertips. Her inner thighs were tinted red as well as her eyes, and her face was streaked with tears. She walked with a limp and lowered herself gently onto the bed beneath the window, a new wave of tears falling down her face, but those tears were not out of fear of the Monster before her. Those tears were fearful of the other Monster, the Monster that sat outside smoking a cigarette in the front seat of its truck while the backseat soaked the stains it’d left behind.

“Kill me if you must,” the Girl whispered, her eyes never leaving the vehicle parked outside.

The Monster took a small step forward. With a single glance out of the window, it slunk quietly to the floor and crawled closer before looking up at the Girl and darting through the open bedroom door.

Today, if you ask the Girl where the Monster in the truck went, she will shrug and say that it probably left town. But the rusting pickup at the bottom of the lake a few miles behind her house and the slinking thing that sleeps in her closet and watches over her at night both tell a different story.

#dark #justice #monster #protector

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thethingaboutmagic · 4 years

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Am I attracted to men twice my age that have no idea who I am? Yes. Do I care? No. 😂

#sebastian stan #hot #bucky #marvel

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thethingaboutmagic · 4 years

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I was looking into the upcoming Marvel television show, What If...?, when I started thinking of my own ‘what if’ scenarios revolving around Peter Parker and Tony Stark. I played around with a few ideas and realized that -even though the concept of how Tom Holland’s version of Spider-Man got his powers is something that we pretty much already know- the way the new Spider-Man got his powers isn’t really explained. Like, yes, we know how the original Spider-Man got his, but that story doesn’t exactly fit in with Tom Holland’s version. So I decided I’d rearrange the Tom Holland version to make it better fit into the MCU with my own ‘what if’.

Peter Parker is offered an internship at Stark Industry because of his intelligence revolving around engineering. There, he meets Harley (Tony Stark’s lead intern), M.J. (another student accepted into the program due to being a biology prodigy), and Ned (another student accepted because of his programming intelligence). While poking around the lab where M.J. assists with Dr. Pepper Potts who works on genetically modifying species, Peter and the rest of the interns discover a radioactive spider. The spider bites Peter, enabling him spider like powers. With the help of Tony Stark and Dr. Potts, they all work together to better keep Peter’s powers in check and keep him out of the eyes of SHIELD, an organization that deals with superhumans but is also secretly ran by mischievous Hydra agents that want to use the superhumans for their own evil plans.

Since Pepper works for Tony’s company, they meet this way and end up together instead of having Pepper be his personal assistant that has to deal with his one night stands (that part seriously got on my nerves). SHIELD (aka Hydra) uses Peter’s Uncle Ben as leverage to get Peter to join them. When Ben is killed, Tony takes Peter under his wing and tells him about the time his own father created a superhuman of his own, Steve Rogers. Natasha, Clint, Sam, and Bucky are undercover agents hired to help protect and train Peter. Ultimately, Peter becomes Spider-Man in an attempt to take down the Hydra agents alongside Natasha, Clint, Sam, and Bucky (and of course Tony who is still Iron Man in this What If).

#what if #marvel #iron man #spiderman #peter parker #tony stark #steve rogers #natasha #clint #bucky #sam #pepper potts

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thethingaboutmagic · 4 years

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I was on Instagram looking at posts about the upcoming show Falcon and the Winter Soldier, and someone decided to call them Sambucky as their ship name, and my first thought was: ??? They’re Sucky???? Their name is Sucky???

And then I snorted out loud and had to spend five minutes explaining what happened to my sister who was staring at me like I was a madman🤦‍♀️

#fatws #imdumb #bucky #sam #marvel #avengers #ship

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thethingaboutmagic · 4 years

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The Farmer’s Daughter (Ch. 2)

This chapter is more or less going to be from Elizabeth’s point of view leading up to meeting Borra at the castle.

My bad if there’s any grammatical errors.

Elizabeth stood in her father’s minuscule kitchen, a kettle of tea hovering mere inches above the burning stovetop. She’d planned on surprising her father with a small gift considering he had been feeling unwell for the first half of the week. At first she’d offered to do his daily chores to give him time to rest, but he’d refused to let her get her hands dirty.

“A lady never does a man’s chores,” he’d scolded her that morning.

Oh how she hated when he said things like that. She was perfectly capable of doing them, and the stream a mile into the forest was a fine place to bathe if he was worried about uncleanliness. All she’d wanted to do was help her aging father before his heart gave out from exertion. Since she wasn’t allowed to help outside, she’d opted for a nice cup of tea to warm him instead, but the yelling and rushing of wind had stopped her as soon as she attempted to lower the kettle onto the stove.

Outside, with his back to the tiny window above Elizabeth’s head, Elliot Williams stood with his hand clutched over his chest, pure terror lacing the grooves in his skin. Above him, a mighty beast with ruffled feathers caked with dirt-and what Elizabeth was hoping wasn’t blood- was a dark fae that nearly blocked the entire sun from shining down on their crops.

“Father!” She screamed through the window, the cold kettle in her hand momentarily forgotten. The liquid inside sloshed dangerously over the edge on spilled onto the floor.

Before she could reach the door, the creature had flown off into the sky, leaving behind her father who sat on his rump against the house, his gnarled fingers shaking fiercely. Elizabeth was careful when she coaxed him into the house and made him sit on the bed in the far corner of her bedroom. He refused to speak and his face was pale. A few hours of trying to snap her father out of the fit he was in and a new kettle of tea later, the sound of horse hooves echoed throughout the house.

Two royal guards were flanked outside the door, their metal armor and cloaks a fine giveaway of their intentions. In one of the men’s hands was a scroll of sorts made from eggshell paper, deep cursive scrawled across in blue ink.

“You have hereby been invited to the castle by King Phillip and Queen Aurora for an apology involving your earlier run-in with a dark fae. If you accept, we leave at once.” The man with the scroll announced confidently.

Elizabeth sat and pondered the invitation before saying a quick goodbye to her father. He deserved at least a little something for his troubles. For God’s sake, it had been the queen and king’s fault for the dark faes’ arrival in the first place, so the least they could do was feel a tad bit sorry for what they’d done.

When she finally arrived at the castle, her arms held firm around the second guard’s waist, she was shocked to be informed that she would not be receiving an apology from the king and queen, but from the dark fae that had terrorized her father instead. She could feel what little color she possessed draining from her face as she entered the throne room. Aurora and Phillip seemed almost as agitated as she felt, their hands pressed firmly in their laps, strained smiles across their faces when she walked toward them. Aurora motioned for Elizabeth to stand at her side, and she did so reluctantly.

The fae entered moments later, his skin rough and cracked. His smile false and cold. He’d had the decency to fold his wings but unfurled them at the last second, knocking the two more colorful fae at his sides a little ways away. Elizabeth gulped. He was watching her with his beady, emotionless eyes. She’d been told by a few villagers that the dark fae did not eat humans, but she couldn’t help but feel like a roasted hen served on a dinner plate under his gaze.

Prince Phillip introduced Elizabeth, his voice laced with annoyance. At least he seems a little wary of his wife’s choice to allow these awful creatures to roam free on their land, Elizabeth thought graciously. When the fae opened its mouth the speak, she had no idea how much her stomach would lurch when he mentioned her father. His apology seemed sincere, but she knew better than to trust a dark fae.

He was a monster, and monsters were never kind.

#borra #part 2 #monster

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thethingaboutmagic · 4 years

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The Farmer’s Daughter (Ch. 1)

I decided to go ahead and turn this into a full story with multiple chapters because I hated the way I ended it and thought it deserved more:)

SUMMARY: Borra loves causing trouble within the kingdom, but a certain village woman makes him reevaluate his decisions.

Borra found nothing appealing about the humans. Although peace had been made between his kind and theirs, he still felt heavy resentment toward those that were to blame for the deaths of his companions. Maleficent had made him promise to at least pretend to be civil, but nothing could stop him from causing mischief every now and then within the kingdom walls.

The bridge that connected the Moors and the kingdom was of no use to Borra. He found the mangled roots to be a mockery of the past. Not enough had been done to give the people what they deserved for years of exile and torment toward his family, so he refused to step foot anywhere near the bridge. Instead, he stretched his mighty wings and flew over the castle. Much to his displeasure, only a few people flinched at the sight of his shadow casted over the village, and only one or two hurried inside whatever little hut they reside in and locked the doors.

Once upon a time, entire villages would run upon hearing his name and feeling the wind beneath his wings brushing across their faces. Now, thanks to Aurora and Prince Phillip, he was seen as almost a sort of pet to the people. And for this, he absolutely despised the people even more.

The castle looked over the Moors-something Aurora had insisted upon- so it was no wonder she and her guests had been able to see him tormenting a man and his cattle a little ways from the village. At once, a group of soldiers were sent to warn Maleficent of her new brother’s actions.

Once Borra was back in the Moors, his ear tucked between Maleficent‘s index finger and thumb, he’d been advised to go to the castle at once and formally apologize.

Prince Phillip held his wife’s hand in his and sighed as Borra came waltzing through the throne room doors with two jungle fae on either side of him. For weeks, he had been giving the prince a headache with the complaints coming in from the villagers.

Borra smiled at the couple before his eyes landed on a separate set of emerald ones to the left of Aurora. He’d never seen that human before, her flowing red hair and pale skin unlike anything he’d ever seen before. Normally, he would’ve made a spectacle of himself with new company, but something about the strange woman made his chest constrict and his stomach swarm with insects.

“Borra. This is Elizabeth. She is the daughter of the farmer you were seen terrorizing this morning,” Prince Phillip huffed, his hand gesturing to the girl,”She would like a formal apology. Her father was quite ill after your encounter.”

The girl stood rigid. It was evident that she wanted nowhere near the situation at hand, but she had put on a brave face and decided her father deserved the apology.

Borra would not look her in the eyes. A feeling he’d never expected to flood his veins left him weak and truly sorry for what he’d done.

“I meant your father no harm, Miss Elizabeth,” he mumbled sheepishly.

#Borra #mistress of evil

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