#and since it features the terror twins ill make this count as a terror twin tuesday post

[rickallensbarefeet]

Here's the infamous Rick heart underwear photo that we were discussing on Instagram a few weeks ago

[hopelesshunny]

the love languages part iv: quality time (f.w)

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: fred wakes y/n one morning so that he can take her on a secret adventure.

warnings: kissing, mentions of war, mentions of death, mentions of eating/food, mentions of marriage/engagement.

word count: 2.2k

a/n: i was so excited to write this part as unlike the previous part of this series, quality time is my personal love language. i'm also quite excited to write the final part of this series as well as finish and post a number of wips so get ready for lots of writing soon!! luv ya'll so much.

*all photos are from pinterest*

series masterlist // part i // part ii // part iii

A quiet groan left Y/N’s mouth as the sun pushed its way through the sheer drapes of hers and Freds shared bedroom. As she began to regain consciousness she could hear the birds chirping outside the window, excited for the morning, she could smell the familiar scent of fresh coffee brewing, but most importantly, she could feel the bed sheets beneath her instead of the comforting rise and fall of her boyfriend's chest. Sighing, she pushed herself out of bed and followed the smell that was escaping from the kitchen, slipper clad feet padding across the wooden floors.

“Mornin’ angel.” Fred smirked, pouring her a cup of coffee and placing it in her eager hands. “Thought I might have to carry you out of bed.”

“What time is it?” She muttered, laying her head against his chest as Fred placed a hand on her back, rubbing small circles.

“It’s 7 in the morning love.” He spoke into her hairline, causing her to pull back from him with a bewildered look.

“It’s Saturday, Freddie.” She exclaimed, still staring at him with a slack mouth.

“I know.” He chuckled, placing a kiss to the side of her head. “I’m taking you somewhere, so drink up.” He said, tapping the coffee cup before pulling himself from her to head back to their bedroom.

She turned to watch him as he sauntered down the hall, a smile forming on her lips at the sight of him. Lucky was an understatement, Y/N often thought that she must have been a saint in her past life and was being blessed in this lifetime with Fred Weasley. From the moment she saw him in first year, her in a uniform that seemed much too big for her body and he with flushed cheeks and a bright smile, she swore to herself that he was the man she was going to marry. In her second year when she watched him and George prank the Slytherins relentlessly and laugh loudly at their stunned faces, she remembered thinking that his laugh was like medicine, it could surely cure any illness. During third year she often found herself staring at Fred constantly from across the Great Hall, hoping that he would return the glance. Then came fourth year when she finally caught his eye, so much so that as he and George ran down the hall, attempting to escape some self-inflicted trouble, he almost ran directly into a wall due to his staring.

Since that moment that had been inseparable - it had begun as Fred’s adolescent attempt to flirt with her but grew into the most beautiful friendship she ever had, when she couldn’t get the hint that he was interested in being more than that. Which is why his invitation to the Yule Ball shocked her in sixth year and his early departure from Hogwarts destroyed her in seventh year. Looking back now all of that seemed silly, from that first glance she caught of Fred she knew that they would find their way together somehow and after the war when she finally had the nerve to walk back into the shop to see if he made it out alive that’s exactly what happened.

The heavy door to the shop creaked as she pulled it open, her heart had plummeted to her stomach as soon as she saw the building from down the street. She was scared, terrified that the ghastly war had taken Fred as its own, so scared that she had pushed off confronting the possibility of it until now.

“Hello?” She called into the empty space. “Freddie? George?” Please be alive, please be alive, is all her brain could muster up to think.

“Y/N?” A voice called from the back. “Y/N!” George shouted as he came into view, running towards her to smother her in a hug.

“Hi.” She spoke softly into his chest, still fearing the fate of his twin. “Fred?” She asked quietly when she pulled back from the hug, concern and worry lacing her features. But the raging storm of guilt and terror within her was calmed when George flashed her a genuine smile and turned to call towards the back room.

“Fred! It’s Y/N, she’s alive.” With that Fred came bustling out from the far end of the shop, his eyes bloodshot, hair messy but that golden smile still plastered on his face. When she saw him tears that she had been holding back for days came flooding down her face as he picked her up, wrapping his arms impossibly tight around her body. George chuckled to himself before making his way up the stairs leaving two lovers that were too stubborn to realize they were lovers to finally become lovers.

“You scared me Y/N.” Fred whispered into her neck. “I thought I’d lost you.” She let out a choked sob before pulling back to look at him.

“There was so much happening, I couldn’t find you.” She said. “And then once it was all over I was worried th-that something had happened and that you w-were.” She trailed off, trying to find the words that made the most sense to her in this very moment but before she could, he was softly shushing her, planting her feet on the ground and placing a sweet kiss to her forehead.

“No need for any of that. I’m here, you’re here, we’re okay.” He spoke, her face in his hands. “I guess now’s as good a time as any to tell you that I’m in love with you Y/N.” He chuckled, earning a giggle from her.

“Fred Weasley, I am way ahead of you on that one.” She retorted, leaning up to capture his lips with hers.

“Okay Weasley, where are we going.” She said, emerging from their bedroom to find Fred on the couch, his head resting back on his neck before snapping it forward at the sound of her voice.

“You know.” He started, getting up from the couch to move toward her, placing his hands on her waist. “I see you every single day and it still feels like that first time I almost snogged the wall trying to catch a glimpse of you.”

“Always a charmer, you were.” She giggled before he reached down to grab her hand, pulling her out the door and down the street. He swung her hand in his as he pointed out abstractly shaped clouds saying they looked like her hair in the morning or her butt when she leaned over to pick something up.

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going.” She spoke.

“We’re going right here.” He said, pulling her into an ice cream shop. “Well, we’re starting right here.”

“Starting?” She questioned. “What do you have up your sleeve, Freddie?” He chuckled at her inquisitive state as she never really trusted Fred when it came to surprises because it typically ended in her hair being dyed a garish colour or something seemingly delicious tasting absolutely horrendous. But this surprise was good, he reassured her with a soothing hand on her back.

With ice cream cones finished and Y/N’s mind still wandering, the pair was now standing in a lush garden in the countryside, wisteria trees blowing gently in the summer breeze as Fred clasped his hands over her eyes. When he finally pulled them back to reveal the gorgeous sight in front of her all she could manage was a gasp, taken back by the pure beauty of the garden, so much so that she hardly saw the picnic blanket he must have set up ahead of time.

“It’s beautiful Freddie.” She whispered, her hand pressed against her chest in amazement.

“Just like you.” He said, wrapping his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on top of her head. “Hermione actually told me about this place after she leant you that book about trees.” He chuckled, recalling the memory of his girlfriend passionately telling him about a different tree somewhere in the world every morning.

With that he ran and landed on the blanket with a thud outstretching his arms as giggles bubbled from her mouth. She gladly accepted his offer however, laying on the blanket with him, her back against his side as she gazed up at the bright blue sky, through a veil of wisteria, her hands finding his to gently run her fingers along his knuckles. From their position on the ground Fred had the perfect view of Y/N’s face, the face he had memorized so many years ago, the face that lit up the first time he had ever spoken to her and everyday since then.

He and George sprinted down the hall, Filch hot on their heels as boisterous laughter filled the air, adrenaline running through both their veins like hot lava, setting their bodies on fire. Then he saw her, coming around the corner, books clutched tightly to her chest as her eyes wandered out the window, but his remained solely on her. A little too much it seemed because when he finally forced his line of sight away from her, he found himself face to face with a wall, just inches away from having his face planted flat against it. He brought up on his heels before ducking away into a closet, George after running far ahead of him.

He cracked the closet door open just enough so that he could steal a look at her, he watched as she giggled and shook her head and then made her way down the hall. Was she laughing at him? Was she laughing at him because she thought he was funny? Or because she thought he was a fool? He thought about this for a moment before finally deciding that he could make either one of them work. Once the coast was clear and he was sure he was no longer being chased, Fred practically fell out of the closet and began sprinting down the hall again but this time in the opposite direction, in the direction of her. When he finally caught up to her, he layed a gentle hand on her shoulder causing her to turn towards him before he doubled over out of breath.

“Just give me, give me one second.” He said, holding his hand up to signal for her to wait. She chuckled at him as he then decided to take a seat on the ground still attempting to pump air into his lungs. Y/N sat on the floor of the hallway with him, pulling her knees up to her chest as he looked at her in surprise. “I’m Fred Weasley.”

“I know.” She said before giving him a shocked look, angry at her mouth for betraying her. “I mean, I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

“I think we’re going to be great friends.” He replied, while she flashed him a smile that could light up the entire castle on the darkest of nights.

Great friends they were, if you consider great friends, people who can’t sleep without each other, kiss each other good morning and good night and just about a thousand times in between everyday, they were the best of friends, if best friends were in love with one another. Fred couldn’t imagine his life without Y/N in it, couldn’t bring himself to imagine being with someone else, she was all he ever wanted, all he’d ever need.

“Is that a squirrel over there?” Fred questioned. “Climbing up that tree?” He pointed to a tree in the distance, causing Y/N to sit up straight, shielding the sun from her eyes with her hand as she squinted in an attempt to see what Fred was on about.

“I don’t see a squirrel.” She scoffed. “You must be seeing things Fre-.” She started, turning around to see Fred kneeling on one knee in front of her, a silver ring propped up in a velvet box grasped in his hands as his eyes searched hers. Shock ran deep on her face and a rush of nerves took over Fred as he couldn’t quite read her reaction.

“Y/N, from the moment I met you I’ve wanted to do this. I’ve thought about asking you to marry me almost everyday since fourth year and hell if I had a ring back then I would’ve done it. But I have one now so I’m asking-.” Fred began, still tentatively studying her face.

“Yes!” She cut him off, launching herself into his arms. “Yes, I’ll marry you any day and I would’ve married you when we were fifteen if you asked.” She peppered his face with kisses as he laughed loudly, slipping the ring onto her finger. Tears pricked her eyes as she pulled back to look at the new addition to her hand but her eyebrows knitted themselves together at the collection of numbers engraved in small font on the underside of the band.

“Numbers?” She questioned, shooting him a quizzical look as he chuckled.

“Coordinates.” He responded. “To the exact wall I almost hit the first time I saw you.”

taglist (join here!!)

@onlyfreds @fandomhideout @lilypad-55449@youngblood199456 @thanxxskz @emma67 @gaycatlord-stuff@alicetweven @a-castle-of-glass @youcantbesirius@omghufflepuff @izzyyy-1​ @70sweasleys

if your url is crossed out i could not tag you!!

[thecursedhellblazer]

BASICS.

full name.  John Constantine pronunciation.  Con-stan-TINE (comics) / Con-stan-TEEN ( TV adaptations) nickname(s). Hellblazer, ConJob, The Laughing Magician, The World’s Greatest Con Man, El Diablo, Johnny boy (& all the possible variation of the latter) gender. Male height.   5′11″ age.  35-40 years old (verse dependent) zodiac.  Taurus spoken languages. English, some Spanish, some German, some Italian, Latin, Sanskrit, Egyptian language, Ancient Greek, Old Persian, some Enochian.

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.

hair color. Dirty blond eye color. Blue (comics) / Brown (TV show) [I tend to go for the blue ones] skin tone.  Fair. body type.  Built. accent.  Heavy British accent (from the area of Liverpool specifically) voice. Often hoarse, the kind of voice you expect from a chain smoker. It goes from being really expressive to emotionless and cold, when he wants it to be. Also, accent. dominant hand.  Ambidextrous posture.  Mostly slouched, with shoulders falling slightly inwards. scars. Plenty. John’s body is littered with scars, both gained during his sparring with the hellish and the supernatural and self-inflicted (for spells, for the most, but not always). He has some marks gained in more “normal” circumstances, like bar/street fights or accidents. Some are light enough that will most likely disappear given the right time, but other are so deep and large that will remain as permanent mementos of the events that have firstly carved them on his skin. tattoos.  Several, spread all over his body (arms, chest, back, some of his legs too). They are almost (if not) all seals and symbols used in spells, protections, or at least have a magical meaning. birthmarks.  None most noticeable feature(s). The first things people tend to notice about him is how he dresses. His appearance is always messy. Clothes in a general state of disarray, mostly creased. Shirt half untucked and with the top buttons always popped open, tie never properly tied, dirty trench coat, cigarette tucked over his ear or somewhere else. However, the physical details tend to be quickly forgotten as soon as he opens his mouth and his flamboyant, pushy attitude comes out.

CHILDHOOD.

place of birth. Liverpool, England hometown. Liverpool, England first words. Either some random curse or ‘killer’, since that’s how his father has always addressed him. siblings. One stillborn twin, older sister (Cheryl) parents. Thomas Constantine (deceased) and Mary Anne Constantine (née Quinn, deceased) parental involvement. His mother died of childbirth, so he never met him. As for his father, he blamed Mary Anne’s death on John and quickly became an alcoholist and an abuser, towards both his children, even if John took most of it.

ADULT LIFE.

occupation. Occult detective, Exorcist, Demonologist, Master of the Dark Arts, Magician, Conman, Gambler. Member of the Legends (verse dependant)   close friends / family. Chas Chandler. All the other people in John’s life come and go without ever truly staying. In LoT verse, the members of the crew. relationship status. Single / verse dependant. financial status. Depends on how much he has got out of others’ pockets through gambling, for the most. He manages, in general. driver’s license.  Never got one. He still knows how to drive, even if he prefers not to. criminal record.   John has ended up in prison several times, mostly for trespassing, stalking, violation of private properties, theft, possession of illegal substances/weapons, disturbing the peace, and so on. None of the accusations ever stuck, because he always found a way to get himself out of them (or someone to pay the bail for him). He has been accused of murder a few times too, but has never been condemned for it. Of course his earthly record pales compared to his “magical” one and to what Hell and a lot of demons consider him responsible for. He is fated to end up in the Pit for more than one reason.

MISCELLANEOUS.

character’s theme song. “Endless War” by Within Temptation or “Whisper” by Evanescence hobbies to pass time. John’s hobbies often connected to his chosen profession. He spends plenty of time researching the Occult or learning, creating and testing new spells. Aside from that, drinking can be considered a consistent part of his routine and he goes to clubs (when he is feeling like being among people), to drink and flirt (whether for fun or to find someone he can take home…or to any available place that can assure the necessary privacy for a sexual encounter). He also practises yoga and meditation with regularity. mental illnesses.   PTSD, Persistent Depressive Disorder, Guilt complex, Alcohol Use Disorder, Sleep Disorder of Arousal (Sleep Terrors), Tobacco Use Disorder. physical illnesses. Does being destined to develop lung cancer counts? left or right-brained.  Right-brained (mostly) self-confidence level.  Very confident of his abilities and knowledge, sometimes far too much, which leads him to make mistakes and miscalculate risks and dangers. All in all, however, he is conscious of his level of expertise and knows how to use it at the best of his capability. Things changes when it comes to be confident in himself as a person. With trauma and past mistakes he can’t forgive to himself, he mostly thinks of himself as worthless of anything good. His vision of the world and of himself is marked with a strong pessimism, which leads him to constantly see only the shadows, only the half empty glass, to constantly expect for the other shoe to drop. As much as he is trying to get himself out of Hell’s clutches, deep down he almost hopes that he will eventually fail, because he deserves an eternity of the worst torments and more.

SEX & ROMANCE.

sexual orientation. Pansexual. romantic orientation. Demiromantic. preferred emotional role.  submissive | dominant | switch preferred sexual role.  submissive | dominant | switch libido.  Fluctuating. At times he’s literally screw everything that moves (within certain limits) because it’s just another unhealthy coping mechanism, like drinking, and others he just isn’t in the mood, no matter who might threw themselves at him. turn on’s. Heated make out sessions, sharp humour, sarcasm, biting / scratching, quickness of mind, bantering, creative thinking, shows of power / strength (done without boasting), fighting (only with specific people). turn off’s. Know-it-all attitude, dull / boring / pushy / clingy / controlling people, discussing long-term relationships, too many questions about his past, anything connected to religion (God and Heaven in particular), lack of humour. love language. Acts of Service, Quality Time relationship tendencies. Getting attached is often not an option for John. When it comes to sex and romance, he more often goes for casual, because it’s safer and less complicated, and he isn’t one to fall fast for people. Most of his past relationships, especially the long-term ones, ended up badly. John’s lifestyle and choices more often than not make it impossible to stay that close to him. And he doesn’t make it any easier, as persuaded as he is that the relationship is doomed from the start. At times, however, it’s hard for him to push people away, both because, at the end of the day, he does need someone by his side, and because he ends up running into people who are quite stubborn when it comes to stick around him.

tagged by: @imthebatman tagging: (idk who likes to do super ass long memes, so don’t feel obliged to do it even if I tagged you! For multi-muses, feel free to pick whatever muse inspires you the most since this is a lot!) @perfectedingbadideas @exanxmo @theclownprnc @areswriites @protectxthem @mythsxndlegends @dwarfstaralloy​ @angelluxi​ @smoakinn​ - & anyone who wants to steal this !

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Of Blood and Roses

Chapter Twelve

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Loki x Lauren  |  Word Count: 7949 Warnings: Fluff and stuff

Lauren took that first step with Loki and nearly choked on nothing. Crap that's a lot of people! The number of them was staggering, so much so she clutched Loki’s fingers in spasmodic reaction.

His thumb caressed her knuckles, his grip tightened, and Lauren firmed her smile. She could do this, though she did wonder if she threw up down the front of her dress if he’d be fast enough to cast an illusion to hide the evidence.

“Breathe,” Loki whispered.

Lauren sucked in a breath and hoped no one could hear how hard her heart was pounding. They paused at the top of the stairs to give her a moment to collect her dress.

A waiting man, some fancily dressed person with a great staff of twisted wood, pounded the butt against the polished golden floor, and Lauren had to fight not to leap out of her skin.

“Loki, God of Mischief and Revelry, second son of Odin, brother of Thor, and Prince of Asgard. Lauren, Ástvinur of Loki, daughter of Odin, sister of Thor, and Princess of Asgard.”

Loki nodded his head to the man before leading her forward, down the stairs and out between the soldiers standing at attention.

Lauren looked neither right nor left, focused on not falling on her face. The floor looked mirror slick even with its intricate engravings, but Loki had been most thought out in his attention to her outfit. Her shoes had short stacked heels with, she assumed, some sort of gripping rubber sole for every step was stable. The train of her dress flared out and followed grandly behind them. She could feel it pull a little with every step, grounding her in something other than the terror of having all these people stare at her.

Thor sat waiting at the end of this golden way which, Lauren thought with a touch of sarcasm, should be called the golden mile with how long it was. The twins had said the hall was large but massive would have been a better fitting description.

It was the biggest room she’d ever seen. The ceiling let the sunlight pour in over the throne. It was high and coffered, with red and gold banners streaming down. The aisle was wide and straight, giving her a view to the stairs at the end and Thor upon his ornate throne.

There was a row of guards at the bottom of the stairs they descended, but where they ended, suddenly the people were pushing in on either side. The width of the aisle technically didn't get any narrower, but it felt it now with the crush of people gawking and straining to get a look at them. Then she caught the sight of the twins, faces bright and smiles wide, and realized she wasn't alone here.

This wasn't like a pageant or a ball where she’d been the odd girl out, forced into something she despised because it was what her mama wanted.

Lauren had chosen to be here. She'd chosen to stand at Loki’s side. She had decided to join her life to his, and it wasn't a decision she regretted.

He was good and sweet and kind. Gentle and loving. He was her very heart as she was his. This now was her life. She was a princess. She was his princess and his wife. Lauren would not dishonour the gift given to her by these Norns she knew so little off by making herself less. She would believe in herself as much as possible.

She could do this. She would do this.

Lauren lifted her chin a little higher and sent a kind, affection filled smile toward the twins, then focused ahead, nodding a bit here and there when someone she recognized smiled back.

At about the halfway mark, she noted Odin standing to Thor’s side, his raven perched one on the top of his staff, the other on his shoulder, and the wolves resting at his feet. He looked regal, stately, and wise. She imagined Odin had been quite the king in his day. Appearing before him as ruler of this land truly would have made her nervous, and now, she was grateful for their impromptu meeting in the garden. Meeting here for the first time would have been so much worse. He smiled, and though it was small, she could see he approved.

Was it odd that his approval could mean so much in such a short time?

The thought was swift to flee her mind when, with a happy yip and scramble of claws on slippery floors, Geri and Freki bound down the stairs and loped toward them. Loki chuckled, the sound easily heard in the silence, but Lauren only smiled, their enthusiasm unmistakable when the wolves closed in and danced on happy feet around the two of them. Both licked at her free hand, begging attention she gave freely with a quick ear scratch to each.

Their ears slicked back and tails wagged, their happiness in seeing her apparent in their little whines and groans, but Lauren held up her hand and hushed them gently with a quiet, “Settle down now.”

Geri, the brindled grey nudged her fingers one more time before falling in line on her right. Freki, the black, trotted around to Loki’s side where he gave Loki’s fingers a quick nudge and began to pace the golden way with them.

Loki’s hand tightened minutely on hers, and Lauren could tell the wolf had surprised him with the open acceptance. Neither had paid Loki much mind at all during the feast, but as all the animals of Asgard seemed far smarter compared to those at home, maybe they’d realized she and Loki were a pair and offered him their friendship as well.

Whatever the wolf’s reasons, Lauren was happy about it. Loki was rarely accepted with such ease; it made her heart swell to see it. Animals were never false. They weren’t deceptive in their affection. They liked you, or they didn’t, and when they didn’t, there was usually a reason for it.

When Lauren lifted her gaze back to the people, she noted she wasn’t the only one to notice the exchange between Freki and Loki. Nor did she miss how their furry escort both awed and disconcerted people.

The last half of the walk was less daunting. Lauren no longer the one ill at ease. Now amusement filled her, a little thrilled by the tiny bit of mischief they’d caused. Loki was the God of it after all. It seemed only fitting to make a little bit of trouble during this spectacle.

Arriving at the foot of the dais upon which Thor sat, Lauren noted the Warrior’s Three and Sif spaced out on the stairs. Sif and Fandral to the left, Hogun and Volstagg to the right, with Odin standing to the side of Thor’s throne.

Thor’s face showed his joy and that glimmer of mischief she’d noted before was back in the blazing blue eyes. Apparently, he too found the wolves antics amusing.

“Loki,” he smirked with a regal tilt of his head. The crown he’d worn during the party on Earth was back, as was the red and black leather, but where he’d gone without armour before, this time a golden breastplate, arm guards, and some kind of shin guard had him gleaming as bright as his throne. He looked the part of a warrior king, as much as Loki appeared a warrior prince in his own right.

“My King,” Loki bowed.

Without him needing to nudge her, Lauren dropped swiftly into a curtsey, her head bowing as well.

“I present to you my Ástvinur and formally proclaim her mine. The bond is finished, the vows exchanged. She is mine as I am hers,” Loki said, the words sounding heavy and rehearsed but full of emotion, and Lauren knew they were ceremonial and held great importance.

“Rise,” Thor murmured, allowing Lauren and Loki to straighten. The God of Thunder smiled, and Lauren couldn’t help but smile back. He was so excited for Loki, for them both, Thor could hardly contain himself. “You seek my blessing on this union?”

“We do,” Loki said.

Thor waved a hand. “Then complete the binding here and now, so all may witness the love you share, the faith you hold in each other, and the unfailing vow you will keep till the end of your days.”

Lauren’s smile wavered. Wasn’t the binding already complete?

Loki squeezed her fingers and turned her toward him. His smile was mischievous and eyes bright with his emotions when he gazed into hers before lowering himself to his knee at her feet, still holding her hand.

“Lauren, daughter of Hoyt of Annandale,” he gave her a sly smirk and little wink, “the woman who is not only my heart but the loadstone upon which the Avengers of Midgard rest and gain their strength, beneath the eyes of our King and before the witnesses of Asgard, I pledge myself to you for now and forever. You are my one love. You are the heart in my darkness,” his smile softened, Loki having also liked Sif’s description, “the light by which I will live my life. For you, I will be better. For you, I will give my life. For you, I can do no less. For you have raised me from the darkness and renewed my hope and my faith.” A flicker of green surrounded his fist; then he was sliding a golden band of intricate knots up her ring finger to sit against the engagement ring he’d created what felt like eons ago. “As a circle has no beginning and no end, I offer this ring as testament to my vow to never fail as your Ástvinur.”

He looked up into her eyes, his so full with his heart they were brimming. Lauren gently laid her right hand on his cheek, forgetting for a moment there was anyone else in the room. “I accept,” she said softly, her voice choked with tears.

“Then as your King, I proclaim you wed. Loki is a Dark God no longer but a God of balance residing on Yggdrasil with Lauren, our newest and still blooming Goddess. Welcome home, brother. Welcome to Asgard, little sister. Asgard rejoices in your arrival,” Thor grinned.

“Asgard does not just rejoice, my son. It sings in celebration,” Odin murmured. “Can you not feel it?”

Thor frowned at his father then closed his eyes as if listening hard to something in the distance before a new smile split his features. “Ha! It truly does! The land itself welcomes the woman born for my brother. Long has it been since I felt such resonance.”

“What’s that mean?” Lauren whispered to Loki.

“I’ll show you when we change, darling,” he said and smiled softly.

She nodded, knowing it was nothing bad if they all seemed excited about it.

“My son,” Odin murmured. “Long have I waited for this day, but not even I could have foreseen the woman the Norn’s would grant you. Already her light flows through you. Protect her, my son, for she is the greatest treasure you will ever be granted.”

A touch of sadness resonated in his words, and Lauren felt it in her heart. Then, the bracers she wore seemed to warm, as if Frigga reached out from beyond the grave, seeking to comfort the man who’d been her husband.

“She is quite special. After all, it is not any woman who could so easily have my pets deserting me,” Odin chuckled causing a ripple of laughter to run through the crowd.

“Now,” Thor hummed, rising to his feet to stride forward and down the stairs. “I bid you share your luck, brother. May the blessing the Norn’s have bestowed on you spread far and wide. Go amongst the people that they may see the beauty of your Ástvinur and be blessed by her compassionate heart as you make your way to the Temple to give thanks to the beings who saw fit to find her for you.”

Thor bent and pressed a gentle kiss on Lauren’s cheek before slapping Loki firmly on the back. “Lucky bastard,” he muttered while winking at Lauren.

It made her blush, likely his intention for Thor snickered loudly.

“As you wish, my king,” Loki tilted his head regally, his sly grin back in place when he turned with her to face those gathered.

“Then I am pleased to proclaim this day will forever more be known as-”

“My King!”

The cry arose from the midway point of the golden way and shot ice through Lauren’s veins. Both wolves stood from where they’d been reclining at Lauren’s feet to step forward and growl, a low feral sound that echoed through the throne room.

“What the hell is she doing?” Loki hissed so only Lauren and Thor could hear.

“Let’s find out, shall we?” Thor said, but Lauren could hear the anger in his quiet question. “You interrupt a momentous occasion, Teacher. Speak, and you’d best pray your interruption is warranted.”

Sigyn stepped out on the golden way, and Lauren felt slapped.

***

Loki ground his teeth together in anger. The woman wore a dress of nearly identical colour to his wife’s, but where Lauren’s was sleek and simple, made to showcase the woman inside it, Sigyn’s was clearly created to draw attention. Heavily beaded, the scoop neck showed off an indecent amount of cleavage. Fitted to her form, it moved sluggishly as she walked toward them, glittering and shimmering with each step. Her partially sheer sleeves, also embellished, were a hint too long, making them scrunch at her wrists in a way Loki would have never allowed a dress to fit on Lauren.

Sigyn’s hair fell in its typical style around her shoulders and down her back in ringlets, but Loki was far too angry to see much more when the shot of unhappiness filled him from his heart stone. Lauren’s hand was pressed self-consciously to her belly, but Loki would have none of that and leaned toward her ear.

“She is an overdone peacock, my sweet compared to the graceful swan you resemble. A gaudy and cheap bauble next to an exquisite emerald. You are elegance personified, and if you look, the people are making the same comparison.” He could see it on the faces of those who looked between Lauren and Sigyn, how they frowned and slight disgust filled their eyes before they’d glance back to Lauren and smile or sighed at her beauty.

“She’s… really sparkly,” Lauren whispered.

“Lauren,” he squeezed her fingers. “I made this dress to showcase you, not the other way around. You wear the dress, and it enhances who you are. That?” he casually tilted his head toward Sigyn. “The dress is the statement. One made by of woman consumed with her own importance and vanity.”

“He’s right, little sister,” Thor agreed. “You look a princess. She appears as a woman playing at what she thinks one should be. I have never liked her.”

Thor’s statement made Loki’s heart clutch.

“She was still a friend to Loki growin’ up, Thor. Be nice,” Lauren murmured.

The fact she would defend a woman Loki knew she had mixed feelings about only made him love her more. But it also confirmed for him why Lauren was his Ástvinur and why Sigyn could never have been. Sigyn would have never calmed his darkness. Likely, she would have only added to it.

The scales of youth were falling from his eyes, and the person he remembered as a child was suddenly cast in a much different light. Some of his darker pranks and mischief had been at her encouragement. She’d enabled him, more often than not pushing him into it when he’d been reluctant to pull whatever stunt she’d wanted him to. Many times the people he’d made mischief for were ones she had a grudge against.

Now, standing there in the light of his Ástvinur, Loki came to the realization Sigyn had been a cruel, spiteful, and vindictive girl. He highly doubted she’d changed much as an adult.

“Rise,” Thor all but growled over Loki’s shoulder.

Loki drew Lauren closer so he could wrap his arm around her waist and splay his hand over her upper abdomen. It was a possessive and protective move, one that did not go unnoticed by Thor’s four warriors when they closed in around their king.

How interesting was it that the wolves followed his lead, backing up to stand protectively between Sigyn and Lauren. Loki threw an intrigued glance at his father, but Odin was busy frowning at Sigyn.

Lauren leaned into his side, and Loki took her free hand while pressing a kiss to her temple. He played gently with her ring, a surprise he knew, but he’d wanted to keep it that way. It was the last step in their binding, a ritual witnessed by Asgard’s king and the people to publicly proclaim her his Ástvinur.

“I beg forgiveness, your majesty,” Sigyn murmured, rising gracefully to her feet.

Not Lauren graceful, but still slightly impressive. Though if she’d dropped any lower, she would have afforded Thor a decent look down her dress.

“Then beg,” Loki growled, glaring at Sigyn.

Sigyn looked taken aback, her face paling before she linked her hands together and bowed her head. “I wish to throw myself upon the throne’s mercy. ”

“Now?” Thor barked. “You interrupt a moment centuries in the making for what possible reason?”

Sigyn’s gaze slid Lauren’s way, making Loki stiffen. “People are saying hateful things. That I am saying horrible things about the princess. That I am spreading rumours about Loki’s Ástvinur. It’s not me, my king! I swear it!” She fell dramatically to her knees at Thor’s feet, tears brimming over to stream down her face. “The prince was my friend, the only one I could share seiðr with. I am so happy for him, my king. I would never begrudge him finding love.” She looked beseechingly at Loki. “Not when I’ve longed for his return, for his friendship once more, and to find love myself.”

Something was wrong, and Loki frowned. He should be able to read Sigyn’s sincerity or lies in her plea, but he couldn’t. It was like she was blank. There was nothing to her but her crocodile tears sliding down her face. He’d seen her cry once so long ago he could barely remember it, but her face had grown red and blotchy when she’d raged over… something. This was far too pretty to be anything but contrived.

He glanced a Thor, his brother looking at him for confirmation, but he couldn’t give it and gave a minute shrug. From the corner of his eye, he saw the sharp gleam of triumph on Sigyn’s face. She'd never been able to keep from being smug when she got her way. Thor’s eyes widened, but before he could speak, Loki arched a brow.

“Brother, have you something to say on the matter?” Thor asked.

“Indeed I do,” Loki tilted his head. With a kiss to Lauren’s cheek, he smiled for her when she looked at him, her eyes full of concern, and moved around her to stand guard against Sigyn between his father's pets. “These rumours will fade in time. Soon all will see and know the blessing my Ástvinur is to me, this I know to be true. But no one will forget the disgrace you bring upon your head by interrupting these proceedings, Sigyn. The trivialities you place at my brother’s feet could have waited. Your tears and pleas could have waited. This… display does not paint you in a kind light.” Her amber eyes widened in surprise. “Yes, we were friends once long ago. We are no longer the same people, and while I thank you for your well-wishes, and hope the Norns bless you with a love as deep and lasting as mine with my beloved, I cannot condone your actions. You make a mockery of something I have prayed for my entire life, and that I cannot forgive.”

Sigyn gasped, her body reeling back on her heels. “But… Loki…”

“You will address me as Prince Loki, Teacher. Learn your place.” His words were quiet, but they carried all the authority of the throne behind them.

A ripple of noise rolled through the crowd. One of approval which surprised Loki almost as much as he had surprised Sigyn.

Loki shifted his attention to Thor and bowed his head. “My king. I have a walk to take with my wife. If you will excuse us?”

“I will meet you on the steps, brother, for I too desire to enjoy the first annual festival of Loki’s Ástvinur,” Thor grinned and nodded.

“Father,” Loki nodded to Odin.

“Congratulations again, my son. I celebrate this day with you, as I know your mother would as well.” Odin made a motion with his hand, and Geri and Freki returned to his side, but not before nudging Lauren’s hand with their noses first.

“Come, my love.” Loki held out his hand to Lauren who took it without hesitation.

Thor held up his hand, Mjolnir raised high. “Let us all rejoice and celebrate!”

A mighty roar erupted and rolled outward in a wake of sound when the people of Asgard broke out in applause and cheers. Lauren blushed and smiled shyly, but it was Sigyn, half-forgotten on her knees, who drew his attention with her quietly muttered words.

“Loki… please. You’ve let her turn you against me.”

Loki sent her a passing glance. “You did that all on your own when you sought to usurp Lauren’s place. Stay away from my Ástvinur.”

A flash of anger had red power rising in her eyes, but Loki was faster and with nothing more than a twist of his fingers, her magic fade from her grasp.

“Do not test me,” Loki warned and led Lauren away, a smile on his lips when he skipped a step ahead of her, turned to walk backwards, and lifted her knuckles to his lips. Enchanted, she laughed, the joyous sound ringing out over the cheers.

A glance back at the foot of the throne showed him Sif dragging Sigyn up by the arm. The Warrior said something to the redhead that had Sigyn ripping her arm away in anger before Sif gave Sigyn a pointed look and none too gentle shove in the direction of the cheering people.

A wave of foreboding streaked Loki’s spine. They'd set something in motion, something dangerous. Something… aimed at Lauren.

The feeling was fresh, without urgency yet, so he knew there was time. There was no point worrying over it at this moment, not when Lauren’s joy sang in his heart stone and the people cheered in triumph. Today was a day of celebration, and he would spend it with his Ástvinur in happiness before speaking of premonitions.

Lauren’s smile was brilliant, her light radiant. It took his breath, and Loki stopped at the foot of the stairs to tug her in close and caress her cheek.

“You did wonderfully,” he murmured only loud enough for her to hear before he ducked his head and kissed her quick and hard but thoroughly. When he lifted his head, her eyes sparkled with mischief, right before she grabbed him by the collar, dragged him down, and returned his kiss with a fevered one of her own.

The crowd went wild.

When he pulled back, Loki laughed and led her to the top of the stairs where he paused to show her off in all her glory a final time before throwing out his hand. Small pops of magic broke like miniature fireworks of sparkling green above the crowd, then burst into shimmers of golden paper in the shape of his helmet which fluttered down to the people's outstretched hands.

The clapping grew thunderous.

Loki bowed, his signature smile present, and kissed the palm of Lauren’s hand to draw her attention when she, too, reached for a piece of paper.

“You have the real thing to grasp onto, beloved,” he purred and drew her away from the cacophony of noise out into the much quieter hall.

The guards on duty all smiled at her appreciatively.

“I know, but I wanted one to keep in memory of today. That was just such a…” Lauren struggled to find the right word. “Fantasy.”

He magicked another helm of paper just for her and pressed it into her palm. “It was. You were magnificent.”

“I didn't do nothin’ but stand there, Loki, “ she scoffed, following him through a portal directly into her closet.

Once inside, she went right to the chest which held her jewelry, lifted the lid, and placed the paper helmet carefully inside. It made his heart swell with love. She adored the jewels, he knew it, but that tiny piece of paper was just as precious in her mind because he’d made it for their special day.

“Just because you remained mostly silent does not mean you did nothing,” he stated, sliding up behind her to remove her crown and return it to the chest. It too was for formal occasions,  just like the dress she wore. “You're heart shines through, my love, with every step you take. I'm sorry for springing this last bit on you,” he lightly touched her wedding band, “but I desperately wanted to surprise you.”

“You certainly did that,” she chuckled and turned to wrap her arms around his neck. “What you said… it was beautiful, Loki.”

“I meant every word.”

“And the thing Thor and Odin were talkin’ about?”

He smiled and ran his hands up and down her spine. “Close your eyes.” She did so without hesitation. “I know you channel energy when you exercise, so I want you to reach for the ground. All life flows through Asgard’s heart. Feel for the energy.”

She breathed in, then stepped out of her shoes. “I think… I think I felt it this mornin’. It was like I was connected to the land. I could feel it pulse and flow. I could breathe here. I felt it more than I ever have at home.”

“That is the soul of Asgard, beloved. It welcomes you home where you belong. The world rejoices in your coming.”

She giggled and shook her head. “Feels very Avatar-like.”

He chuckled along with her, remembering the film from movie nights. “I have seen many wonders across the nine realms and beyond. Sadly, the Na'vi are not one of them. Though Frost Giants are close at least in colour.” Her amusement faded and a flicker of unease darkened her eyes. “What? What's wrong?”

“What was she doin’?” Lauren asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“Sigyn took a calculated risk and failed. She tried to trick me, hide the truth with magic, but I am not some youth who can be so easily blinded anymore. My eyes are open to her ways. Both new and old.”  He tugged Lauren's arms from his neck to turn her around and begin undoing her buttons one by one.

“What's that mean?”

“It means, I remember Sigyn pushing me to do things as a boy I knew were wrong, but I did them anyway because they were at her behest. I remember her crying, raging over some imagined slight, and how red and blotchy she became. Nothing of what we saw today was real. She used magic to hide behind. Created a false canvas for me to read, but I know her.” With each new inch of uncovered flesh, Loki placed a kiss on Lauren's spine.

She was quiet for a long moment, a content hum or little gasp her only reaction to his gentle undressing before saying softly, “I'm sorry you had to do that today.”

Loki slipped the last button free and wrapped his arms around her. “I'm not. I want no mistakes made. No more rumours spread. I had a small revelation when she bowed to Thor.”

Lauren snorted. “When you could practically see straight down her dress to her lady bits?”

He chuckled a little. “Yes, but that had little to do with it as I prefer your body over anyone else's.” Loki emphasized his words with an open mouth kiss to her shoulder. “But seeing her standing there looking a poor copy of you, I realized she would have never been able to be the light in my darkness. She could never have settled my soul. In all likelihood, she would have only pushed me further into darkness. She was a cruel girl. I highly doubt she has grown into anything but a spiteful woman.”

“But… I thought…” She sounded as confused as he’d once felt.

Loki tightened his hold and brushed his nose up her neck. “Standing with you, in the light of your goodness, my memories of her have lost the sheen of their youthful veil. She used me often to get back at those she hated. I was starved for affection, and she gave it readily. When she asked me to do something, I did it for fear of losing my friend, but I am a boy no longer. Sigyn has power over me no longer.”

“Oh, peaches,” Lauren gasped, turning in his arms to stroke her hands over his chest before lifting them to lay lightly on either side of his neck. “That's terrible! Some Lady she is!”

Loki shook his head. “Sigyn is our Teacher, she is not a Lady and will not be one unless she marries well. She was born of humble roots, but rose to her position through mother’s grace and Sigyn’s own skills.”

She nodded slowly and chewed her lip, an action he now wanted to do for her. “What did she hope to gain, though?”

“I honestly don't know. Whether Sigyn meant to garner sympathy, forgiveness, or the backing of the throne, I don't know, but it backfired epically. Don’t worry about her now. I have warned her to keep her distance and she will if she knows what’s good for her.”

Lauren nodded, but he could still feel the confusion and concern in her when Loki reached up and took her wrists, removing first one and the other bracer.

“They got warm at one point, like Frigga was makin’ herself known. Like she was there, watchin’ out for her boy.” She touched them gently, with reverence before Loki sent them to rest beside her jewelry chest.

Tears burned his eyes when he found her green ones swimming with them. “She would have adored you.”

“Loki,” Lauren whispered, tilting her chin up.

He smiled through the wetness on his face when he bent down and kissed her. He brushed the dress from her shoulders and down her arms, sending it pooling around her ankles, and hummed in appreciation, gliding his hands over all her soft satin skin.

“You are exquisite,” he breathed against her lips. “And you are mine.”

“All yours,” she moaned, her head falling back when he left a trail of kisses down her throat. “Forever yours, but you’re gonna make us late if you keep doin’ that.”

“Then let us be late,” he purred and sucked her nipple into his mouth.

Lauren groaned, wrapping her fingers around one of his horns. “Loki…”

“Hm?” he hummed much too intent on the pretty berry of her nipple.

Her hand tugged, but he ignore it. “I’ll make you a deal if you stop now so we won't be late.”

“What could possibly entice me away from your lovely breasts, my sweet?”

“If you stop now, I'll wear the shields till supper.”

He froze. Then, slowly, Loki lifted his head. The bodice of her dress was more than thick enough to hide the adornments, and it was an enticing offer. A wicked grin showed his teeth when he bent her back over his arm and purred, “I accept, darling.”

Dark, sensual laughter filled the room. Loki surrounded her breast with his free hand and brought the beaded peak to his mouth. She moaned, the sound sending a shiver down his spine when her hand fell limply from his helmet. Her scent clouded his nose. Loki made a noise like a playful growl and swept his tongue around her areola, over her nipple, and pulled with tender little sucks as his magic flooded his mouth.

When he lifted his head, he admired the shield he’d left behind for but a moment before treating her other breast in kind. Only once she was a quivering, shaking, moaning mass of lustful flesh did he pull away and lift her up to turn her to face the mirror.

“Oh, pet. Look how stunning you are.” He cupped her breasts and whispered against her ear, “You are so beautiful.”

Naked but for the sleek silk panties in pale gold, the ornaments around breast were not suns this time but serpents. Each snake twisted around Lauren's areola, the body seeming to writhe with movement when the light caught it right. The tail lay fairly high on the swell, but Loki had done that on purpose. There would be a tiny bit of gold which would reflect just above the neckline of her gown. A shimmering reminder of the private bit of jewelry he’d gifted her. Each little serpent held the sweet berry of her nipple in its mouth, not tight enough to be a clamp unless he added just a touch of magic.

“They’re gorgeous,” Lauren murmured her finger following the circle of one small snake.

“Careful, pet,” Loki grinned, loving the way she was so accepting of his games. “They bite.” He pressed his thumb and forefinger together, and both serpents tightened their hold.

“Oh, peaches!” she moaned, her head falling back on his shoulder.

Loki growled, his body so aroused he ached with it and closed his teeth on her flesh,  making her cry out and grab for his hands.

Finally, Loki lifted his head, knowing if he didn’t stop right now, he wouldn’t be able to. “By the Norns. All I want to do is bend you over and slake my lust on your body, pet, but a deal is a deal.”

He stepped back and waved his hand, removing his formal garb and replacing their clothes, the champagne dress for her and standard black and green leather for himself. The tunic and coat would do much to hide the evidence of how badly he wanted her until he could get his body back under control.

“And here I was ready to change my mind,” Lauren chuckled but breathed out a hard breath to steady herself. “You really know how to make a girl forget herself.”

“Do tell, darling,” he crooned, taking her by the waist. “I would love to hear all about how I make your knees shake and you belly quiver.”

She ran her fingers through his hair. “Like you need your ego inflated.”

“Uh! Darling! I am hurt!” he pouted and made her laugh.

“You’re nothin’ but a big flirt!”

She was such a treasure, Loki tugged her close and kissed her sweetly before encouraging her across the room to take the band of serpents from within her jewelry chest and slide it up her arm.  “One last thing,” he murmured and called his mother’s tiara to his hand.

Loki placed it upon her brow and flicked his fingers, redoing her hair in a sleek but intricate style to compliment the elegance of her dress. Lastly, he took the shawl which matched her dress down from its shelf and draped it around her shoulders. It was light, but he knew the soft fabric with its pretty embroidery of knots and elegant horses, and the long edge of fringe would keep her warm. “You look wonderful. So beautiful, wife.”

She blushed and turned to send a final glance at the mirror, then looked down at her chest, and back at him with a raised brow. “Really? Really, Loki?”

He smiled gleefully and stroked his finger over the tip of the serpent's tail peeking out the top of her gown. “Well, if Madame Lanche hadn’t cut the bodice so low…”

“You’re incorrigible,” she huffed, but he could see the mischief in her eyes. “Guess its a good thing I like you that way.”

Running his finger over the swell of her cleavage, Loki tucked the tails down a little further. “There. They are now unnoticeable.”

Lauren looked up at him, then linked their fingers together and smiled. “I love how decadent you make me feel. A little naughty, but always so put together. You think about every little detail, right down to the soles of my shoes.”

She reached up with her free hand and stroked his cheek, encouraging him down for another kiss, one he was happy to bestow.

“I will always think of you in every way, in every aspect. You are first in my thoughts,” he smiled and gently rubbed their noses together. “But, if we do not leave right now, I am going to carry you to our bed and keep you there for the next several hours.”

Lauren gave his collar a little tug. “Then I guess we’d better go.”

“You’re a terrible tease,” he pouted, but couldn’t hide his smirk.

“What I am is a charmin’ southern bell,” she said, stepping away and throwing the tail of her wrap around his neck dramatically. “And if you were any kind of gentleman, you’d be escortin’ me on this walk, sir, instead of teasing me to no end behind closed doors.”

She winked and grinned, and Loki burst out laughing. “You’re adorable.”

“I know,” she giggled and swept grandly from the closet.

Loki shook his head and followed, waved his hand and opened a portal he led her through to arrive on the stairs on the outside of the palace a few feet away from Thor. “Brother.”

“Loki!” Thor exclaimed, turning with an enormous grin on his face. “Lauren.” He held out his arms. “You look lovely.”

She went willingly into his arms and hugged him. “Thank you, Thor.”

Thor bussed a kiss to her cheek. “Come, little sister. Volstagg has brought his daughters, and they are very excited to meet you.”

Lauren stepped away from Thor and held out her hand, which Loki took willingly. Her eyes were bright with excitement, and she practically bounced with it when she made her way down the wide front stairs, tugging him toward the big redheaded man, standing with a pretty blonde woman and three young girls.

“Your Highness,” Volstagg bowed. “Thank you for agreeing to this.”

“It’s my pleasure, Volstagg. Hello,” Lauren said, smiling at the three girls and Volstagg’s wife.

“Lady Lauren, my wife Daven.” He motioned to the blonde, a buxom woman who dropped a curtsey.

“A pleasure, milady,” Daven said, her nerves evident, but more from excitement Loki thought than fear.

“Nice to meet you as well, Lady Daven,” Lauren smiled and nodded.

The three girls were like the Russian Nesting Dolls Loki had seen in a shop window once, each one as redheaded and rudy cheeked as their father, gradually getting smaller in stature, but they were lovely, each one willowy, the complete opposite of Volstagg.

“And these are my girls. The eldest is Glinda.” He placed his hand on the shoulder of the child to his right. The girl bobbed a swift curtsey, sending her twin braids swinging.

“It’s lovely to meet you, your highness,” Glinda said shyly.

“And this is Hedda, our middle child,” Volstagg placed his hand on the shoulder to the girl on his left.

“Your Highness.” She bobbed a quick curtsey, her hazel eyes big and filled with wonder as she played with the tail of her single braid, hanging long over her shoulder.

“And this is Agneta, our youngest.” Volstagg set his hand on the littlest one’s head.

The child’s hair was done up in two braids which were wrapped into fat little buns on the top of her head. She looked like a little redheaded bear cub and was absolutely precious.

Loki felt his heart clench when the child stared up at Lauren in awe, and Lauren just melted.

“Papa,” Agneta whispered. “She’s so pretty!”

Volstagg chuckled and patted her head. “That she is, kitten. Don’t you have something to say to the princess?”

The little girl blushed and lifted the bouquet of flowers she held. “Welcome to Asgard.”

Lauren crouched to take the flowers. “Oh, my. Thank you. Y’all are so sweet! And look how pretty y’all are. So like your mama,” she smiled and tapped Agneta on her upturned nose.

The child giggled, blushed, and turned into Volstagg’s leg.

“I’m ever so pleased to make y’all’s acquaintance,” Lauren said, rising to her full height.

“We’re honoured you agreed, your highness,” Daven said, looking charmed by Lauren’s accent.

“I love children and bein’ new here, it’s nice to meet people. Especially such lovely young ladies.” All the girls smiled shyly. “And your Agneta is the same age as my niece Sara,” she said, the words holding only a little sadness.

Still, Loki stepped forward to lay his hand on Lauren’s back, but when his approach caused the eldest daughter to shift toward her father, he felt it like a kick to the gut. “Lauren, darling, I will… wait for you by the bridge.”

“No you won’t,” Lauren said sternly and grabbed his hand. “Loki adores my niece and nephew, and they think the world of him. Why just the other day he won Sara a stuffed pony at a carnival game and then Benny a sweet stuffed puppy. They had such a good time, and he was so amazin’ with them. Sara just loves him to bits.”

She smiled up at him, and Loki felt a giant, thirty feet tall and king of all the universe. In her eyes, he could do no wrong. He was her hero. Her actual hero. He’d never been anyone’s hero before.

“He’s very good with children,” she murmured.

“My heart,” he purred. “You honour me.”

“You deserve it.” She squeezed his fingers.

“You made the glittery paper!” Agneta giggled and drew a handful from the pocket of her dress. “Papa let me keep it!”

Loki chuckled, glanced at Volstagg for permission the man gave with an eager nod, then crouched to speak with his youngest. “That is quite the handful.”

“It was so pretty,” Agneta giggled shyly and made to tuck the papers back in her pocket, but Loki reached out and held her hand.

“How about, instead of keeping all of these and likely having them scattered every which where, and winding up scolded my you mother, what if I changed them into something very special only you would have?” Loki asked.

Her big hazel eyes brightened. “With magic?”

He nodded and smiled. “Yes, my little bug. With magic, but I will need your help.”

“Okay!”

Daven cleared her throat loudly.

Agneta looked sharply at her mother. “I mean, yes please, milord.”

She shoved the papers at him, making Loki chuckle as he collected them all into his fist. “Are you ready?”

Agneta nodded, and he shot a glance at Hedda and Glinda, noting their curiosity. Closing his free hand over his fist, he held his hands out to Agneta. “Blow.” She leaned forward and blew over his hands. “Very good,” he smiled and opened his hands to reveal a brooch of gold in the shape of his helmet and horns. “There you are, sweet. Now you have a pretty piece to wear and have forever.”

“Wow,” she whispered and reached to take it from his hand. “Look, papa!” Agneta lifted it up to show Volstagg.

“You’d best thank the prince for his generosity, Aggie,” Volstagg said after admiring her brooch.

“Thank you, Prince Loki,” Agneta said, spreading her skirts to drop a curtsey.

“You are most welcome, Agneta,” Loki smiled, rising to his feet. “Well met, Daven, it is good to see you again, as well as your daughters. Volstagg.” He nodded to the man. “I hope you enjoy the day, but Lauren and I must be off.”

“If it isn’t too much trouble, my family and I will follow in your wake, highness,” Volstagg grinned.

“The more, the merrier,” Loki agreed, tucking Lauren’s fingers in his arm. “Brother. We’ll be on our way now.”

“Of course, Loki.” Thor motioned them onward, and Loki led Lauren away, up the cobbled street toward the stately bridge which opened into the main thoroughfare.

“You did good,” Lauren murmured.

“Only because you gave me the opportunity.”

She clutched her bundle of flowers and his arm. “You deserve them. All of them. Every opportunity.”

“Ah, darling. You’re too precious,” Loki smiled and pressed a kiss to Lauren’s temple.

When they crested the bridge, Lauren gasped and then breathed out a quiet, “Ooh, wow!”

Loki chuckled. “Impressive isn’t it?”

The way was lined with stalls and storefronts, each displaying gold and green banners or fluttering flags with entwined serpents gracing each one. Baskets of flowers hung from the lamps which lit the streets at night, a colourful explosion of big blooms.

Already a host of people milled among the merchants.

“Just so you know, I intend to buy you things today,” Loki teased.

Lauren looked up at him and arched a brow. “Things? I don’t think so, elskan min.”

“You’re supposed to say, “Yes, Loki,” and allow me to shower you in presents.”

She snorted a giggle. “One thing.”

“No, my heart. Many, many things.” He took her hand from his arm and spun her around as if they were dancing, sending her dress fluttering grandly about her. “I wish to spoil my Ástvinur. It is a day for celebration!” Loki laughed as he pulled her in and kissed her soundly.

“One thing. One,” Lauren said, but her voice was soft and dreamy.

“Really?” he pouted and brushed his lips on hers. “But what if there is a second thing you simply cannot live without? Or something you must have?”

“All… alright. Two,” she sighed and clutched at his coat.

“Only two?” he purred and nipped her lip, worrying it with his teeth.

“May… maybe a few more… if somethin’ catches my eye.” Her lashes fluttered closed and spread over her cheeks. “Please, peaches… kiss me?”

“Whenever you like, beloved,” Loki murmured and took her lips in a slow, sensual, thorough kiss, a meeting of mouths and twining of tongues.

When he broke away, she breathed out a sigh and opened her eyes. “Don’t think I don’t know exactly what you’re tryin’ trying to do, Mr. Mischief. Foggin’ my brain and makin’ me all muddled up so I can’t say no.” She punched him lightly in the chest. “You keep your too enticin’ lips to yourself.”

“I do believe you were the one who asked for a kiss, my love,” Loki snickered.

Lauren blinked at him for a moment before pink darkened the peach of her cheeks. “I guess I did.”

“That’s alright, sweet. You can let me buy you something to make up for bruising my feelings,” Loki smirked.

Lauren snorted. “You’re so damn tricky.”

From a few feet away, Thor, Sif, Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg with his family all laughed.

“Well,” Loki chuckled along with them, “I am the God of Mischief, my love. It is only fitting. Come.” He drew her along toward the market. “There is so much for you to see.”

Next Chapter

[heart-of-dunbroch]

MERIDA DUNBROCH: CHARACTER SHEET 

Wishing, wanting for something more, always better than I had before. Who knew these dreams would come true? And I run the red, won't stop at night, I don't care for traffic lights. Things ain't moving quick enough for me. I guess I've been running round town leaving my tracks, burning out rubber, Driving too fast But I've gotta slow right down.

ORIGINS & FAMILY: Name: Merida Elinor DunBroch Nickname: Mer, Mera, Reason for name: “Oooooh, don’t remind me!” -Merida Merida’s parents had their honeymoon in a sea-side town in Spain where, after a day full of riding on the beach, swimming, dancing and too much drink, Merida was conceived. Her mother is the one who named her, paying homage to Spain while deriving the name from the gaelic “Maighread” meaning ‘pearl.’ Birthday: March 21, 1998  Age: 19 Gender: Female Place of birth: Inverness, Scotland Places lived since: Merida has never moved anywhere, but she has spent a fair amount of time in London, Inverness, Edinburgh, Glasgow and the wild forests and highlands of Scotland. Number of siblings: She has three brothers who are currently 8 years old (and have a long way to go before they can begin training!) They are triplets: Hubert, Hamish and Harris.

Relationship with family (close? estranged?):

Mum-- Ah, Merida and her mother. Welcome to World War 3. When Merida was younger, she got along much better with her mum, enjoying her various lessons because, hey, they were fun back then. She loved learning how to sing and play guitar, how to take care of the horses, she loved the stories and histories of the Order of the Prince too. Sure, Merida was always rascally and always cut lessons short, but they were really close until Mer got to be around 8 or 9 and she wanted to spend all her time riding, exploring, and practicing archery. Now, she can’t for the life of her understand her mum, nor can Elinor understand her. And Elinor has gotten stricter and stricter with Merida the more she acts out which just creates a vicious cycle.

Da- On the flip side, Merida adores her father. He began to teach Merida how to shoot a bow and arrow when she was a wee thing as he didn’t have a son. Merida shares Fergus’s sense of humour and is equally as mischievous. They have a running game of pranks, the two of them, that’s been going on for over a decade now.

Her brothers- aye, y’mean those three red-headed bampots? They were born when Merida was 11 years old, coming out of nowhere, surprising everyone. And if you ask Merida, they’re worse than her when it comes to making trouble, not that her mum even notices. No, they can get away with it because they’re boys. Sexism, Merida cries. Though-- that aside, and though they’re pure terrors, she can count on her brothers to keep her secrets so long as she pays up. Fair’s fair anyway.

Uncle Lachlan- Mer’s uncle, the younger brother of Fergus. He’s a bit of a jakey himself, and too harsh on Lachlan. His wife left him years ago because of his drinking problem.

Lachlan- Merida’s cousin (son of Fergus’s brother) who is just a few months younger than her. He’s expected to eventually rise to be the new patriarch of the Dunbroch brood, but for all the metal in Mer’s blood, he’s got none of it. His first solo hunt ended in disaster and he’s been too scared to hunt ever since. He shares Merida’s love for horses though and she loves Lachlan for his support and friendship.

Aunt and Uncle MacDonald: On her mum’s side, Merida’s got Uncle Harris, her mum’s big brother, and his wife, Aunt Tamra. Uncle Harris disapproves of Merida’s behavior though Merida says that’s just because she can beat his own sons at any sport there is-- just watch!

Innis and Iain MacDonald: Her twin cousins who are just nine months her senior, which means she would be beatin’ their arses in every training session, field trip and tourney if given the chance. Both of ‘em are your typical MacDonald Knight-bros-- aggressive, short-tempered, proud. Both are skilled with longswords and tridents and know how to handle some heavy artillery because they’re often out on the lake, lookin’ for Nessie. But neither’s slain their first monster.

Senga MacDonald: just 15 and already a nail in Merida’s bum. Her little cousin’s everything a proper lady of the Order should be and likes to tease Merida that if Mer doesn’t take over Castle Cawdor, then she sure will. She’s got a crush on Donald MacIntosh though (who’s got a thing for Mer), so Mer gets a small sense of victory.

Robert “Rabbie” MacDonald: Merida’s 13 year old cousin who is getting ready to start his years in the Order and worships Innis and Iain.

Aunt Aileen and Uncle Quinn MacIntosh: Her mum’s younger sister, Aunt Aileen, married the youngest of the MacIntosh boys. Her Uncle Quinn is unfortunately been put in a wheelchair from the same run-in with Mor’du that took her father’s leg and because of it, they’ve never had kids. Despite that, he remains good friends with Fergus and is kinder to Merida than the MacDonald side of the family. Aileen however is as stern as her mother.

Uncle Robert and Aunt Moira MacIntosh: Related by marriage only, the eldest MacIntosh brother hates Fergus and the rest of the Dunbrochs for the accident that crippled his little brother. He is the father of Donald MacIntosh.

Donald “Donnie” MacIntosh: Related by marriage only, Merida’s “cousin” has had a thing for her for a while. He’s one of those boys who gets turned on the more Merida pinches, pushes, and slaps him around. He’s also a total numpty, though not half bad a warrior-- she’s begrudingly let him give her swordfighting lessons in secret (under their parents’ noses both) which she knows he only does because he likes her. Yuck.

Uncle Domnhall MacIntosh: Never married, Prince MacIntosh is the middle brother and a seasoned hunter. He’s famously slain not one but two unicorns. He’s a bit of a legend, and Merida wishes he didn’t hate the Dunbrochs so much for the whole Quinn accident.

Happiest memory: It’s a pretty recent one honestly-- when she entered the joust and won her first match and everyone cheered for her, even though they thought they were cheering for Lachlan. Merida finally felt seen for all that she had worked for and all that she was capable of.

Childhood trauma:A family camping trip when Merida was only 5 years old was interrupted by Mor’du coming to seek his revenge. Fergus lost his leg, Merida’s Uncle Quinn broke his back, and the family is still feeling the effects of the day even now.

Merida dreams about it sometimes, and remembers how she ran off into the woods. In her dream, its the will-o-the-wisps that guided her to safety, then distracted Mor’du so he would not find her.

PHYSICAL Height: 5’9 (thats right) Weight: 135-ish probably- all muscle baby Build: She works out every day and not just cardio but-- strength training and lifting and climbing. She loves to rock climb, swim, and ride as her main kind of activities. Not super fan of the ‘gym’ though she will go. Nationality: SCOTTISH Disabilities (physical or mental, including mental illnesses): Merida does have some mild dyslexia which made her get middling grades in school and also makes studying harder. One of the reasons she hates it. Her mum had her tested for ADHD but sorry Elinor, it’s just her personality lol (thanks Mum). Complexion (freckles, acne, skin tone, birth marks): She’s freckly on her nose and shoulders definitely and has lovely pink skin.  Distinguishing facial features: Her hair-- always wild and curly with strands going this way and that-- are definitely her defining trait. She’s got lovely “cat eyes” though-- these squinty bright blue things that always got a hint of mischief in them. The freckles are cute too, though you got to get a bit closer to notice.   Hair color: GINGER. Usual hair style: Merida either puts it all the way up on her head or wears it completely down. Her mum french braids it-- she hates this. She also hates straightening it and hates CURLING it because what’s the point it’s already curly !!  Eye color: Gray-blue Glasses? Contacts?: No, she has very keen 20/20 vision.  Style of dress/typical outfit(s): Tomboy for she. She loves jeans and overalls and things she can get messy-- big long coats, flannels, t-shirts. She despises bras and wears a lot of camisoles because of this. She loves baggy cargo pants with pockets too. She wears boy shirts a lOT and is a big fan of hats because it’s so cold and rainy in scotland always and hats hide the frizz of her hair.   Course, she is often in riding pants because she’s on Angus so often. Typical style of shoes: Boots normally because she’s riding. She’s got a thing for all kinds of boots too and it’s one of the more girly things about her. She’ll do a nice boot with a strong block heel. On the flip side, no, get those other dressy heels back where they came from or so help me,,, Health (is this person usually sick? or very resilient?): Merida is a very healthy, robust girl, because she eats helluva lot of protein and is constantly very active. She is the type to deny when she is sick too because she hates just lying around.  Grooming (does she/he wear makeup? shower daily? wear only clean clothes? pluck her eyebrows?): Merida actually likes showers and baths and she takes one near every day but she haaaates other kinds of grooming. She also hates make-up and has gotten eye infections from it.   Jewelry? Tattoos? Piercings?: Merida got the family crest tattooed on her right hip where her mum couldn’t see (teehee). Her ears are pierced but she doesn’t wear earrings much. She also has a family ring that she fiddles with. Accent?: Very Strong. Sometimes you can’t understand her if she talks too fast.   Unique mannerisms/physical habits: She twists and chews and pulls on her hair. It drove her mum crazy. Athletic?: SUPER athletic.

INTELLECT Level of education: Going to uni

Level of self esteem: Merida’s got pretty healthy-ish self-esteem though that’s probably because she’s a deeply angry person who wants to prove people wrong about her. She’s been criticized all her life by her mum, aunts and uncles, and all the other people in the Order for not fitting into their standards. Mer’s innate sense of self though is too strong to take them that seriously, though she does feel a little ugly sometimes (not that she’d ever admit it) and isn’t very comfortable being a “girl” (she doesn’t even know what that means). In fact, in settings with other “girls” she can feel out of  place and comments can sting more than they should. She makes up for it by being a tomboy and rejecting a lot of these ‘girly’ things from the get-go. She assumes most girls are going to hate her honestly. 

Gifts/talents: Mer is a quick learner, especially when it comes to coordination if that makes sense (she’s surprisingly graceful). She’s handy with the sword (not her weapon of choice), can hold her own in hand-to-hand combat, and is one of the best archers+riders in her age-group. Her other talents are singing and blacksmithery-- she’s only patient when she’s working at the forge. She can play guitar, but nothing too fancy.

Shortcomings: So many--Sewing, weaving, maths and english, public speaking isn’t great mostly because she can’t stay on topic, is hotheaded, stubborn, aggressive, prejudiced, holds grudges, proud, can be blunt, no real art skills, can have a bit of a nasty sense of humor, quick to anger, disorganized when unmotivated.

Style of speech (loud, mumbler, articulate, etc.): Merida is naturally loud and a bit of a rambler. Her mum always had to shhh her because she was shouting before she knew it.

“Left brain” or “right brain” thinker?: Merida is actually left-brained. She is driven by rules and logic and is more of a strategist than someone driven by emotion. Her emotions CAN override this when she’s especially upset-- sort of like anyone.

Artistic?: Besides singing and blacksmithery (which CAN be an art form), not really. Mathematical?: Nope Languages? English, Gaelic, doric, and Latin (a smiiiiidge of Danish) Makes decisions based mostly on emotions, or on logic?: You’d think emotions, and sometimes, yes, she can be pretty impulsive. But usually Merida is more of a logic person when it comes to day-to-day. Neuroses: Does nooot shaving your legs and armpits count? Life philosophy: You are in charge of your own destiny. Religious stance: Protestant, but not really Cautious or daring?: Daring! Optimist or pessimist?: Optimist Extrovert or introvert?: Extrovert for sure. Level of comfort with technology: Merida didn’t get to use lots of technology because the Order doesn’t fuck with it a lot, but she has a phone and she uses Instagram mostly under her mum’s nose. Her mum forbid her from getting an FB or a twitter too.

RELATIONSHIPS Current marital/relationship status: Single Sexual orientation: You tell me ugh. She does like boys though? I think? She thinks she’s straight idk. Past relationships: 

She’s got this weird love/hate thing going on with Don, though it’s mostly hate on her side. She’s never dated because she’s not exactly permitted to, though she’s been asked out before from blokes outside the Order at her regular school because she’s ~not like other girls~

Her best friend Keegan and her kissed and could have been a thing but there was OOTP drama.

She also had a wee crush on Eric when he came to stay with her family for the summer, but it was mostly based on his skillz as a prince haha and she was so smol herself (11) it was sort of fanciful.

A social person? (popular, loner, some close friends, makes friends and then quickly drops them): Merida is quite social and did have some friends outside the Order, though they all thought she was a bit weird because she couldn’t do a lot of things they could do (like date or have an FB or go to school dances). She, strange enough, fit in more with nerds and geeks than the popular crowd because she was seen as ‘odd.’ She had a little group that liked to play tabletop games and cards, go hiking or swimming, and drink down at the pub-- Keegan (her best friend), Will, Aidan, and her lone female friend, Neve.

Most comfortable around (person): Lachlan, her cousin, is by far her favourite friend besides her own father and Keegan. Lachlan wins though because they are around the same age and he’s in the Order with her so she can feel free to be herself.

SECRETS Life goals: Be the very best like no one ever as-- aka to be a Prince and win the tourney for her da so the Dunbroch family can restore its honor!!!! Dreams: I mean same and honestly she always did kinda wanna go to just a regular ol college party… Greatest fears: That she’ll make everything worse for her family. That she isn’t good enough. That even her da will be disappointed in her. That ppl will see right through her/be right about her.

Most ashamed of: lowkey the fact she’s a girl? It’s fucked up as hell but there you have it. Also she really is uncomfortable with romance stuff, like she’s worried she’s a terrible kisser and doesn’t know how to Romance, not that she particularly wants to Romance.

Compulsions: Pulling/twisting her hair for sure.

Obsessions: Besides being a Prince? Uhhhh mmmm I don’t think she has -- Angus, she’s obsessed with Angus. Secret hobbies: Technically the whole training to be a prince thing is a massive secret-- I suppose her love for card games and stuff is kinda secret.

Secret skills: See: training to be a prince tho she’s not allowed

Crimes committed (and was he/she caught? charged?): It’s not a ‘real’ crime but training as a Prince is forbidden for girls and entering the joust was fraud and deception. She could have risked getting cut out of the Order completely. What he/she most wants to change about his/her current life: Merida desperately wants to be recognized for all that she can do-- not just her skills as a warrior, but as a leader and a voice that deserved to be heard. She would change her fate, she would make her family proud and respected within the Order too. What he/she most wants to change about his/her physical appearance: Merida mostly likes that she’s tall-- but also hates it. In her weakest moments, she wishes she was small, petite, feminine-- the stuff her mum wants for her. DETAILS/QUIRKS Night owl or early bird?: Early bird. She wakes up with the sun or even before it and is the first one to fall asleep at any parties. Light or heavy sleeper?: Overall pretty heavy because she exhausts herself but she does wake if she hears any too loud noise. Favorite food: A full Scottish breakfast-- sweetened porridge is her favourite bit of that, along with sausages. Least favorite food: Turnips, yuCK Favorite book: Merida is a bit of a history nerd so she likes reading nonfiction more than fiction. She really liked Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follet (and its sequel World Without End) for being a really interesting mix of history with fiction.

She probably has read the Game of Thrones books if they exist which they probably do hehe (#HouseStark)

Least favorite book: Most books out there. She has a personal grudge against poetry because she is forced to memorize and recite poems at Order events. Favorite movie: She rarely watches them, but probably Lord of the Rings tbh. “I AM NO MAN.” Least favorite movie: She’s not big into movies anyway so like??? Most of them?? Pride and Prejudice??? Favorite song: "The Ballad of Mor’du” which is a story-song passed down in the DunBrochs for a thousand years. Families add their own verses if they have fought Mor’du so Fergus has his VERY OWN VERSE.  Least favorite song: idk like everything by ariana grande and like idk all those pop artists.  Crunchy or smooth peanut butter?: Neither, she doesn’t LIKE peanut butter Lefty or righty?: Righty Favorite color: Green Cusser?: Yes, it’s very unlady like. Smoker? Drinker? Drug user?: She has smoked before but only socially and if her mum ever found out, she’d KILL her. She drinks a fair bit as a social activity too.

Biggest regret: At this point, its probably something small-- losing her first kiss to some dweeb in the Order, somethin’ like that. 

Pets?: Angus is the only one that’s really hers, but the Dunbroch family had dogs too that she loved. Big animal girl.