nemhaine42:

Some Asgard!Flowers that Loki leaves for Darcy. She’s sure they have names but she calls them impossi-flowers because Jane obstinately tells her that such intertwining shapes are impossible. But neither of them are botanists, and Darcy gives them silly names like Captain AmeriFlower and Pink Arrowhead Daisy. 

Loki, for all his wits, hasn’t figured out that no flower on Midgards looks like an Asgardian flower and that Darcy knows it’s him. He preens internally when she waltzes around with those flowers in her hair. Thor elbows him in the ribs and waggles his eyebrows but apart from that neither God says anything. Because that’s how Asgardians do romance, slowly but surely and with a lot of forethought. Darcy’s happy to play along, but Jane can’t wait for Loki to ask Darcy out the Earth way because those – totally impossible – flowers are setting off her allergies. 

Darcy quizzes Loki endlessly about the ins and outs of magic, using her extensive knowledge of Harry Potter as a baseline. It was a rather hit-and-miss tactic when it came to what was correct and what wasn’t. Loki raised an eyebrow when Darcy astutely defined the difference between ‘transfiguring’ something and ‘charming’ it. But horcruxes were not, in fact, a thing and flying on broomsticks was dismissed as juvenile and disturbingly phallic. 

“Well, I suppose it’s not wildly inaccurate that magic tends to be inherent in a being rather than a skill that can be acquired by anyone. But the notion that one would require such primitive amplifier as a ‘wand’ is preposterous. I could send magic through any proxy I choose but why bother, when I can do it directly?

“Any proxy? Even me?” Darcy asks, with a twinkle in her eye. 

“Of course.”

“Would I be able to control it?”

“You’d be able to steer it, if you will. But I control the flow of magic through you.”

“So I’d be the wand,” she says gleefully, to which Loki rolled his eyes, “Can you show me?”

“Oh, very well.”

jatefate:

Why does anything that gives me pleasure wind up behind bars?

(insp.)

friggassons:

the kingdom of god is within you
because you ate it.
– margaret atwood, quattrocentro