#but it’s not there… it’s buried in the ground… poppies and lilacs growing out of the grave… planted so delicately; lovingly… the soul aches | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alvhiedeir · 3 years

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Little Red Elf

Thor X Reader

3174 words

This is longer than intended and quite different than requested and I have no excuse than my lack of discipline but I hope this is good enough

You are seriously thinking about investing on a security camera.

No, it wasn't that you were worried about being robbed. It's was being, 'gifted'.

In an almost daily basis, different items would make it's way to your doorstep. Black roots, hyacinth, hellebores, poppies and other herbs that would usually not grow around the area. It was nice, that was the first thought you had. You were no Circe, the great witch of Aiaia, but such ingredients could and did help greatly with your draughts. So as much as this occurrence should startle you, you brushed it off as the doing of one of your friends working for Lord Osanyin who would usually send you samples of anything new. You figured business was just doing better than usual for her to give you this much.

Two weeks, it continued on. When you rise for the day, there would be a neatly placed bundle of herbs or plant on your front steps. Always perfectly centered. And for two weeks, you accepted each and everything in such giddiness.

That is until you until today.

"I haven't been given you anything, (y/n)," She turned away from the selves she was organizing and continued, "it's been pretty busy lately for the last month with the arrival of new supply from Asia."

Her answer gave you a sudden feeling of uneasiness.

"Then who," your voice trailed, dragging the weariness and alert in the air. Your friend was quick to catch the shift of your mood.

"But think about it," she placed the bottle she was holding and walked towards you, "those herbs are rare and what are the chances of a random miscreant obtaining it?"

It eased your nerves a bit to hear her words.

"Or maybe, you finally have an admirer even if your always holed up in your home!"

She laughed at the jesting glare you sent.

"Like you're any better, cat lady."

"Hey! Having four cats does not count as being a cat lady!"

"Sure, whatever you say."

You shared a laugh, the tension thinning out. After saying a few words, she went back to the counter to pack the herbs that you bought, the reason why you were there in the first place.

"You bought quite a lot. What is it for anyway?"

"Loki wanted some draughts to "bring entertainment around this damn boring halls", his words not mine."

She laughed, commenting how it sounded just like him. She handed you the carefully packed products, with a small purple ribbon tied on the basket as she always did for you.

Just as you're about to leave she called out.

"If you're still disturb about the whole mysterious gifts, why don't you try staying up to see who it is?" You thanked her for her suggestion and concern and with a wave, headed back home.

To say the least, her suggestion was not very successful.

After you went home, you got started on the ordered draughts and by the time the moon greeted the sky, your eyes were already heavy. Being stubborn, you stayed sitting in your kitchen, chair facing the window to see if anyone or anything would past by.

The minutes were slow and before you knew it, the sun has reclaimed its place. And there was yet another gift. A freshly uprooted crab apple tree that barely passes as an adult. How in the world did they get this one?

Another week fast approached and the gifts arrived just as fast. Cornel bark, elecampane, silver fir, the list goes on. Each night, you attempt to desperately stay awake to catch but a glimpse would always end up with you succumbing to sleep. It didn't matter if it was for hours or a mere minute, by the moment your eyelids flutter open, it was already there. Perfectly centered as always, in an almost mocking way.

"You missed us again", you could hear the ridicule from it.

As days flutter, the gifts and your frustrations would only intensify. One time it was antlers from a dear Australia. The other day it was the tusk of a bore. Yesterday it was the blood of steed. The last one made you panic a bit, but thankfully in came only in a small vial. It eased your nerves, albeit slightly that the animal was minimally harmed.

You tried sleeping in the morning so that so that you could roam at night. But when you rise from your chair for a drink or to go the toilet, the sneaky bastard have already placed another gift. You went as far as sitting on your doorstep for the whole night, but even that didn't help. The gift was on your window.

You were at your wits end with this "Persistent Santa" shenanigans (it was your friend who called them that. It was that or creepy-pile-of-dung-that-had-to-much-time). Whoever they were, they are good.

You sighed tiredly again, the dark bags proving Your fruitless efforts.

"Wow, you look miserable!" You silently snapped at the voice, too sleepy to argue but to proud to ignore it. His laugh was laugh, always happy to see others demise.

"Just give me the money, Loki." You impatiently thrust the basket full of draughts to him, eager to leave and maybe sleep for a few days.

"Aren't you greedy." The more he teases you, the more punching him right in the face became an increasingly good option. As if reading your voice, he raised his hands in mock surrender.

" I would pay you, but," he dragged his voice as floated closer to you, "I dont have my money right now. And the old man is calling me so can you wait a few minutes for me?" He smiled, oh-so-mockingly sweet at you.

A tomato would have been jealous of the tint of your check. The itching call for violence is now an unignorable howler. But before you can give in, the god of mischief is already pushing you into one of the rooms, claiming your silence as agreement. In a blink, you were in a well decorated room. The walls were cream in color and golden leaves decorated the corners. Threre were shelves of book against one side of the wall and-

"Wait a minute." Snapping out of your trance, you shouted, voice filled with vile, "Loki!"

But sadly, it came too late and the door have already been shut and only his feint mocking voice telling "enjoy!" Was heard from the other side.

You could sighed, pity for your own predicament. Moving towards one of the shelves with a colorful string of curse words following, you might sa well entertain yourself with something. The books were more old, and probably cost more than your soul. Each one was placed neat and organized, neither a speck or spot of dust could be seen. But one particular book caught your eye.

With a gentle finger, you traced the gold imprints on its spine.

Herbs, Medicine and Witchcraft

Unlike everything else, this one book was placed different. It was pulled slightly forward, as if recently placed back but someone else other than the organizer. When you pull it out, you also noticed the small, almost miniscule dirt on its cover. But other than that, it was nothing special.

"I didn't think they'll have this kind of book."

You sat down and flipped on a random page. It was filled with information about different plants that can be used for both medicine and, surprisingly witchcraft. It included their typical use, characteristics, side effects and their locations. And it was very specific too.

"I wonder if I can borrow this."

Page upon page was flipped, despite the fascination dwelling in you, drowsiness became unbearable. It was just so quiet and peaceful here. Maybe a few minutes won't hurt, right?

"Loki will be there for a while anyway. Might as well." Your reasoning seemed to make sense with your tired eyes and you rest your head. Not even bothered by the fact that you used the book as your pillow.

It'll just be few minutes anyway.

It wasn't a few minutes.

Slowly, your eyelids fluttered as consciousness begin to come back. You sighed contently, that nap certainly helped with your mood. You buried your nose deeper into the soft cloth you leaned on and inhaled. It smelled like fresh lilacs and the sun.

Wait, cloth?

You lifted your head and saw, indeed there was a neatly folded cloth on the place of the book. It was pale apricot, almost faded white and now that you are looking properly, it was a short robe?

"I starting to think you were not going to wake up."

Do you know the sound of a startled walrus with a respiratory disease? Imagine that, but worse. That how you sounded as you whipped your head in surprise to the voice. Right beside you was the god of thunder himself, Thor. The difference in size between him and the chair he was resting on was almost comical. You would have laughed if it wasn't for the fact you want to live a longer.

"He-hello Thor-sama." Damnit, what did you stutter?

He casted his eyes sideways to acknowledge your greeting, glacing right back into reading afterwards.

Looking yourself, it was then you noticed the book he was reading was the one you were previously sleeping on.

"It didn't seem like you were using it," his voice was monotone as for usual, "aside as a pillow, that is."

Ahh, the sheer pleasure of being swallowed by the ground right now would be nice.

"Ah! That- I! Yes..." You simply stared at your lap instead, fist clenched tightly on top. Better to stay quiet that to embarrass yourself further.

Thor was in between being an acquaintance and a work friend. Neither of you talked much, aside from greetings and small talk but was more than used to his presence with the number of times you had to deliver things to Loki, enough so that you don't have to tremble everytime you meet.

But sitting this close, in a close space, alone, this was definitely the first time.

And it'll be the last if you're not careful.

The silence was suffocating, for you at least. You have almost jumped in your sit when he flipped a page in the book.

A minute passed and you are so closed to jumping out of the window. The room was too quiet. Making small talk won't be bad at times like this right?

"It's a nice book."

Wow. If you could, you would have hit yourself in the back of your head. Great thinking, really.

He merely nodded and the silence dragged once again.

"There's a lot of useful information in it."

Stop, just stop. Please stop digging your own grave.

"That's why it's a shame to be drooled on."

"I do not drool!"

In the distant, the sound of funeral bells rang clear in your head. The life you lived was good. Your friend will remember what flower you wanted to be placed on your coffin, and she can have your house, maybe even your-

Before you could complete your will, you heard a smallest of chuckle from the other god.

Huh?

You stared at Thor and sure enough, there's the tiniest arch in his lips. His eyes remains on the pages but - shit - has he always been this pretty?

Between the brief greetings and quick glances, it was hard to appreciate his beauty. Though mostly blank, his face was clear and smooth. Not a single blemish as one might expect from a god who knew battlefield as his home. He was no Aphrodite nor comparable to Paris, but he himself held a beauty of his own. You couldn't quite decide on if it was the light from the window or it was simply him that was glowing?

His neck flexed in the smallest notion as he read. The muscles of his shoulders were relaxed against the table.

Heavens. Those muscles.

You blushed on your thoughts. You tear your eyes away from his physique, the wooden table suddenly very interesting.

"It is rare to see you without Mjolnir, Thor-sama."

"I don't bring him when I read."

"Him?" The question lingered on your head. Was Thor one of 'those' people?

"Do you read often?"

"No."

"Are you interested in herbal medicine?"

"No."

"Is that so?" Your answer was awkward just as the air around you. But to the very least, the tension have eased out knowing that he didn't obliterate you so far.

"Um, Thor-sama?"

Curse you and your need to fill in the silence.

"May I ask why you are reading a book about witchcraft? You do not seem the type to be interested in it." Realizing what you said was potentially insulting, you quickly apologized, eyes wide as you tried to explain. "Not that you don't look like it! What I mean is, um, - that." You stumbled over your own words with nervousness but he simply kept his eyes in the book, barely even glancing at you.

"... give you." His voice made you stop with your gibberish. Catching only the tail-end of his words, you looked at him questioningly. Only then did you realize that it has almost been a minute since he flipped a page, almost as if your question startled him as well.

"Ma-may you repeat that?"

There was a short pause before his answer came.

"So that I know what to give you."

Furrowed brows and confused eyes marked your features.

"So that I know what to give you."

His words repeated in your head, like an stubborn echo inside a cavern.

"I know what to give you."

"Give you."

"Give."

Oh shit.

"You're the Persistent Santa?!" The chair you previously sat on collided with the floor with a loud "thud". Hands planted heavily against the table, you casted accusing eyes to him.

Before any other words were uttered, your senses made its way back to your head like a harsh slap of water. You just yelled at the strongest Norse god. You might as well have dug your own hole and painted your tombstone.

But all fear and confusion left you as you stare at the fore mentioned god. He was not glancing down anymore but instead his eyes found its place opposite of your direction. And if one would look close, really intently stared, the faintest of red could be seen blooming in his cheeks.

"He-he's blushing."

Thor is blushing.

"You shouldn't be shouting here." His voice did not have the same air of threat and authority it usually holds. If your ears were right, it almost sounded like he was embarrassed.

Silently picking up the fallen chair, you sat down with your eyes burning holes the robe infront of you. Which you have almost forgotten was there.

Thinking back to the times you interacted with him, one word would usually come to mind. Quiet. He would acknowledge your presence or sometimes even greet you during the times you bump into one another but has never to made a conversation. Compared to Loki, you have always figured that maybe he was just more refined.

It wasn't until you heard his tale from your friend that you have gathered a sort of fear towards him. You knew how gods are, how vile and wrathful they are. And a god of his caliber could wipe you with a single flicker of his finger.

You would now bow and act more politely to him. Going as far as trying to avoid any contact with him.

But now sitting a mere foot apart, you felt no threat. No danger. And only then did you realize that you have never really felt any danger to begin with. When he speaks, he did not have the murderous aura that they claim to choke anyone. He had never given you any reason to fear him, it was only you who decided to believed other's opinion.

"I'm sorry."

As if a trigger, his head turned to you upon hearing your timid voice but you dare not look at his eyes.

"You don't-"

"Not just for yelling."

Where did you get the courage to cut him off? You do not know. But, still with the false bravery, you continued.

"I mean, I have been very rude to you for a long time,"

"You have never been mean to me and I only returned the gesture by fearing you without any basis of."

With every fiber of yours screaming otherwise, you turned to look at him in the eye.

"I'm really sorry."

The longer you look into those golden eyes the more the heat on your neck spreads to your cheeks.

Guess his hair isn't the only thing red now.

"It's nothing," surprisingly it was Thor who turned away first. This time though, you eyes remained on him with a small smile. Youu have been missing out on so many things. But now, you have the eternity to catch up. And you're sure as hell you will.

"Thor-sama."

"Just Thor."

You laughed a bit, a sound that you did not notice brought a smile on his own lips.

"Why did you give me those gift anyway."

He turned his head to the other direction, but your keen eyes could see his tainted red ears.

"Loki said gifts were a good way to get close to someone." You grinned.

"I should have known better than listen to him."

His words dragged a loud laugh from you. The thought of him asking Loki, of all people for an advice was something you thought you'll never hear. And the small pout in his voice upon the next statement both brought you giddiness and butterflies.

Your hands instinctively covered your mouth, but still the sounds slipped through. And if you would have opened your eyes that moment, you would have seen the adoration in Thor's as he watches you.

Yes, it was embarrassing to ask his cousin for advice and finding those herbs was a hard task. But if seeing you like this, with lips arch into the most beautiful smile he have seen filled with happiness he once thought he couldn't bring you, then he would do it a thousand more.

Bonus:

Outside the closed doors, Loki grinned at himself. Trying to get you two was a pain with how standoffish Thor was by this was the most entertainment he had for a long time.

"What the hell are you doing?" It was one of Odin's crow that screeched from beging, as they watch the god smiling, and by experience it never means well.

"Oh nothing," he sing-songed. He floated pass his uncle but never before saying,

"Hope you're ready for grandkids!"

"Huh?"

But they did not receive an answer, only a chorus of laughter from the god of mischief as he drift away.

If you don't know who's Circe is, she's a witch in the Greek mythology that turned sailors into pigs. Odysseus met her during his travel home from the Trojan war. She turned his men into pig too. And it's a book of Madeline Miller too! You should really read her books.

This was requested by @tenshi-san and I apologize that I might have strayed too far from your prompt. I really hope I did your husbando some justice. He was so hard to write because that only thing I can see him as is bored😂. But I hope you still like it!

#record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #Thor #Loki #SnV Thor #fanfiction #x reader #snv x reader

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joyous-art · 7 years

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Wordtober Day 3: Poison

Warnings: death

Fleur never seemed to fit in the city. Paved sidewalks and highrises were suffocating, or was that the polluted air? She'd escape to a small cottage she’d discovered in the forest as often as she could; hosted by an elderly woman who welcomed her with open arms each time. The pair had become friends when Fleur had gotten lost and stumbled upon the house.

“Are you alright deary?” the woman had asked.

“No, actually, I’m afraid I'm lost”

“Well we can’t have that now, can we? Come inside and warm up, then we’ll get you home.”

The woman had introduced herself as Poppy, marveling over how much Fleur reminded her of the daughter she’d lost long ago.

“What happened to your daughter?” Fleur had questioned, curiosity stinging her.

The woman sighed deeply, peering out the window into the growing darkness.

“The forest is unforgiving to humans, dear. It’s getting late but you’re welcome to stay the night if you wish.”

She had and, now, she visited Poppy nearly every weekend, bringing groceries and supplies along with her.

Tonight, Fleur sat by the fireplace nursing a mug of cocoa. Tomorrow she would go out into the forest in search of a creature; something she’d spotted shifting through the trees along the path to the cottage. If this was to be her home, then getting on good terms with the neighbours, whatever beings they may be, would be a good thing.

Poppy saw her off as the sun rose, ensuring she had the supplies she needed for the day. The sun cast shadows through the trees as it climbed higher and the birds sung in the branches overhead as she walked. It wasn’t long before she came across the border; the one between her world and the Fae realm. The trees grew thicker on the other side; as old as the beings that lived there. Fleur took a deep breath and stepped across, whistling the tune Poppy had taught her so she wouldn’t surprise them; she was less likely to be shot that way.

Something in her suddenly forces a reflex and she ducks as an arrow whizzes through the air where her head had been. It hits a bush and she watches as it withers from the poison before springing to life again like it’d never happened. There’s a rustle in the trees and she looks up to see someone watching her closely from the cover of leaves. There’s a small ‘clink’ as another arrow is clipped to the bowstring and aimed at her chest.

“Shoot if you need to”

Having recently lost both her job and apartment, Fleur had gained the reckless sort of confidence that comes with a lack of self-preservation. She stood in the open, waiting for the blow; uncaring whether it came or not. There’s a whistle that echoes through the trees and she recognizes it as the tune she’d sung from earlier. She responds with the next chord and the trees jostle again as the person climbs down the trunk; still encased in shadow.

“I’m Fleur. I live with Poppy in the cabin nearby and I thought I'd come say hi”

The figure reluctantly steps into the light and Fleur’s mouth drops open in shock. Glimmering aqua scales run up the sides of their legs and sharp teeth can be seen when they smile. They’re dressed in what could pass as shorts and a tank top made of deerskin. Tattoos run across their broad shoulders, interspersed with more glittering scales. A set of pale scars (or was it gills?) are prominent on their neck; sticking out against their dark skin.

“W-who are you?... What are you?”

The creature looks her over carefully with its violet gaze; judging her character before speaking.

“A Shift. Most humans can’t see us”

Fleur wonders for a moment why she could see them before remembering the ‘medicine’ Poppy had given her a week ago when she’d had a cold. It was the only explanation she could think of.

“Fleur”

She blinks in surprise. Her name sounds strange on the beings lips but it’s a good strange; smooth and rich like warm caramel.

“Yes. what’s your name?”

“Not telling you”

There’s a commotion in the brush and they spin, displaying feathers emerging from their ebony hair and forearms; shifting a lilac sapphire, colour in the light. When they turn back their eyes are a deep indigo instead of violet.

Maybe that’s why they’re called shifts

“You shouldn’t be here”

“I figured that when you shot at me”

They chuckle; a sound that somehow reminded her of a gently coursing river. She finds herself captivated by them as they approach and extend their hand. Hesitantly she takes it and they begin to lead her along the path.

“Where are we going?”

“You’re going home”

Fleur pulls her hand from their grasp and steps back; abruptly turning only to find them standing in front of her.

“Wait, weren’t you just-”

“They’ll kill you”

She shrinks at the words; the courage she’d held earlier disintegrating under their stern gaze and piercing voice. Fleur doesn’t pull away when they take her hand again and continue leading her down the path.

“You’re a tolerable human and for that, I don’t want you hurt”

“Just tolerable?”

“Barely tolerable”

They stifle a laugh at Fleur’s offended grumbling before letting go of her hand and pushing her forward. She stumbles across the border before regaining her balance and spinning to face them with a huff.

“Stay out”

“Make me”

They snarl and something in her tells her to flee. Before she knows it she’s running down the trail back to the safety of the cottage; wondering if she’d imagined the whole encounter. Poppy listens intently to her story, telling her that the Shift’s name was Lyric.

“They often hunt that section of border”

“They?”

She explains that Lyric was one of few who could change their gender and anatomy at will, although, most in their position prefer to remain genderless. Some may change, to accommodate a partner but not always. Fleur absorbs Poppy’s words hungrily and sleeps restlessly knowing there were realms beyond the one she called home.

The following day she sets out for the border again only to find Lyric ready and waiting for her.

Every day, for twenty years, Fleur and Lyric would meet at the border. They would sit in the brush and talk; developing a friendship in the first decade and something much more intimate in the next. Lyric watched the grey sneak into her mocha hair as the years ticked on. They startled her when they pulled her down into their lap one day; burying their face into her neck.

“Are you alright?”

“No.”

Fleur runs her hand through the feathers on their head; still as bright as the day she’d met them.

“What’s wrong?”

Lyric presses their lips into her aging skin before looking up at her; violet eyes watering.

“Humans die… I don’t want to lose you,”

Lyric kisses her neck again, leaning their head into her shoulder.

“I love you.”

Fleur quietly gasps, as the words roll easily off their tongue like they’d been wanting to say them for a long time. She feels Lyric tense as they wait for the response; bracing themself for whatever she decided to say.

“I love you too”

They sat, whispering love to each other and talking about the future until sunset. She felt butterflies in her stomach; watching as they carefully melded one of their feathers to her skin as though inking a tattoo. She’d been claimed by a Shift.

The next day there’s no sign of Lyric. Fleur waits for hours until she can’t stand it anymore; she needs to see them and steps across the divide without hesitation.

Lyric had been held up by their brother and parents; racing through the forest to the border before Fleur decided to do something reckless. There’s a sudden sharp burning in their arm where the feather had been removed and they round the corner just as Fleur crumples to the ground; a poison arrow in her chest.

#wordtober #wordtober 2017 #writing #My writing #short story #day 3 #writers on tumblr

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