#i feel like it goes without saying but this is a mirror of when sif asks why loop calls them stardust.

[basilpaste]

oh i never shared this one, did i? more loop and isa interaction because writing the two of them is like candy to me. its so fun.

"Hey Loop?" You ask, "Question!"

"Answer!" They reply.

That's… something you've heard before! They seem to register what they just said — and their eyes widen just a fraction. Everything about their expression goes a little more fake. Oh. Uh! Recover, Isabeau!! C'mon!

"… You call me Fighter, mostly."

"I do, yes!"

You take a breath, "But… not always."

"Right again!" They sing-song, "My, how clever you are, Fighter!~"

"So. Um. When you don't call me Fighter… you call me Sunlight," you trail off, a little bit flustered, "and I don't mind! I-I just — I guess I was wondering why?"

They look away from you, eyes snapping shut in that familiar fake smile of theirs.

"Hm! Why Sunlight or… why something other than Fighter?"

"Oh! Um…" You hadn't really thought about that second question at all! "Either, I guess? Both?"

"Well you only get one!" They laugh, dramatic and strained.

And then they sober, some. Their hand falls in place just below their shoulder, squeezing.

"… I suppose I hadn't thought much of the why. Perhaps it's just that… you're hard to look at. And harder to look away from."

Your heart sinks to the bottom of your stomach. Oh. Oh.

"Because you just won't get out of my hair, teehee!" They add abruptly. There's something just shy of desperation in their voice.

…

You'll play along this time.

You gasp in mock-offense, holding a hand to your chest. "Hey!"

[memoryoflooping]

anyway siffrin putme in the sscary world x2 this loop (the ghosts) and also,

loop 20 -

-oh siffrin is not fine

-loop is not a star… uh huh…. "more like a mirror" huh

-loop in disbelief that we saw the change god?

-talking to the head housemaiden is something that keeps you from advancing somehow hmm…

-what goal is impossible though… everyone seems happy?

-I GET TO HANG OUT WITH LOOP? YES. "i'm lonely!"

-loop stop being so judgemental siffrin is literally bad memory georg of course he needs the coin to remember

-"do you think i'm supposed to be here?!" uh oh, oh loop is stuck here huh. lied just so siffrin wouldn't question it. no home to go back to.

-i think the only person who could understand is siffrin…

-ok so loop's event might take up the rest of the day like isa's? ig i can do the rest and skip him for now ?

-HELP DID I VISIT LOOP TOO MANY TIMES IN A LOOP? HELP

-ahhhhh secret tutorial is just for the showing loop items thing i already know about bc i tried it instantly with the star leaf

-spend a loop with loop… lol

-loop knew siffrin before they even met… yeah checks out. they know so much. "kind of" ? i don't believe you, fucker.

-LOL i did think loop was trapping sif here. but i'm not sure anymore

-loop knows how it feels to be stuck somewhere with no hope of escape… were they in a timeloop too?

-both siffrin and loop said "i'd rather not" when asked to tell more about themself…. hmmmmmmm…

-HOLY SHIT. that's so bright… the king's attack????

-SIF just drew their weapon on loop? omg?

-wait that's true… sif just looped back… bc they realized their friends died… it's not losing… of course its not it would happen automatically when you're "softlocked"

-it must have something to do with their friends? but what? they all seemed happy in the end? it's just siffrin who's missing in that regard then, they don't have an "ending" i guess? i guess if it did actually end after the king, everyone goes home and siffrin will just like, keep traveling, without them, alone. huh. and the loop knows this somehow? someway?

-and we just established siffrin controls it somewhat… so then, it's siffrin? siffrin needs to not be sad? siffrin needs a happy ending?

-hmm i guess it was also established that it IS what siffrin wants, they did wish for it didn't they? i picked the mirabelle option at the start, but i don't remember exactly what it was, to keep traveling with them?

-ok so i need more info on the king, and i guess i just ? do the friend events again. and climb the whole house, again. the 20 hour runtime of isat is not looking good with my 27 hour file gang.

-hm i guess while i'm here i can figure out what's going on with the ghosts!

-sif purposefully tripped on a rock… to not seem really powerful

-bonbon you don't know what stars are?

-FUCK I HAVE TO GO INTO THE STAR ROOM ON PURPOSE…. its fine. its fine. i don't need the extra skills its fine. we're so fine . i guess i might as well figure out where the second ghost spawns, and i won't get to do the third again.

-odile won heads or tails again, i think this is a given i can stop writing it down

-odile thinking about time craft… looking at sif… did this happen last time it might have…? maybe i shouldn't skip interacting with the time craft book again.

-i KNEW it siffrin star infodump lmao

-siffrin says stars, the king says stars, loop… also says stars i think ?

-the king wants siffrin to remember something… hmmm

-ok lets see if siffrin is done being mad at loop ig

loop 23 -

-loop teasing them for the family members thing help

-"that sounds really cringe, stardust" "YOU"RE CRINGE"

-"are you jealous of my family members?" help

-loop does act weird whenever i show the drawing and stuff.. hmmm hmmm

-loop not jealous of the party… so they are jealous of something? or they're lying. 50/50 shot

-ok so me acting like a weirdo is in fact doing something. hm

-wait odile lost this time. after like ten million times of winning in a row

-someone siffrin knew loved fish head and thats why he likes them. OH. AWESOME. OK.

-oh! i think we got the third ghost! yesssss!

-oh everyone can see the ghosts. is that bad.

-oh my god the gang all look horrified. what????

-mirabelle crying over it??

-ghost sif looking straight ahead not moving, got suprised when isa called to him and then looked at them like he was so happy he was gonna cry, esp after he realized they were all there, smile getting bigger. "blissful" but wasn't nice or happy… just sad?

-"why would you look at us like that…."

-oh my god he looped back. to lie about seeing it.

-no peppers in those fritters, it seems "missing"

-the island…..? siffrin and the king should especially remember it…

-wait i can give the king the fucking flower? of all people…????? i fucking forgot to give it to someone

-as long as they're important you can give someone a flower… huh

-ok so find written proof of the island… hmmm

-uh oh they're smiling now… uh oh "in this moment she loves you. they all love you"

-you could do this forever! siffrin… oh my god…

loop 26 -

-isa looks stricken, sad? ohhh no :-( sif must have looked at him so sadly….

-ahhh the diary i see i see

-god its just gotta be siffrin. it's siffrin but how… he wanted it enough but. wishing at the trees isn't like… real? odile can still lose the coinflip…

[damn-stark]

Lightning

Thor Odinson x Odinsdottir!reader, Loki Laufeyson x Odinsdottir!reader (platonic)

Summary: After the death of your brother Loki, and Frigga, things in Asgard change drastically, just like your father. Where he was once cold and distant before, now he’s caring and attentive. And you didn’t mind his change, in fact you loved that he had this new time for you, yet when you find out the truth behind his actions, how will you react?

Warning- Fluff, slight angst

———-

“This is stupid.” You groan as you kick the mirror back and fall back in your seat.

“What did that poor mirror do to you?”

At the sound of your fathers voice you throw your head up and turn to see him standing by your doorway. It was a surprise for sure, but you knew how to react by his sudden appearance.

You stand up and straighten out your shoulders, offering him a small smile. “Father.”

Said man walks into your room and picks up your mirror, standing beside it and keeping his attention on you. “What’s wrong?”

“I,” you blink, keeping your gaze on him for a brief second and silently questioning his behavior before sitting back down and refocusing on your appearance. “I can’t do my braid, it’s hard,” you sigh, feeling your smile fall, “without mother here I can’t seem to do it. I also don’t like when the handmaidens touch my hair, and Thor isn’t here to help, and Loki...is gone too. So I can’t do my braid.”

“I can help you.” Your father suddenly offers.

“Are you sure?” You ask unsurely, watching as he made his way behind you. “Aren’t you busy?”

“I can make some time,” he says as he begins to braid your hair, peeking your curiosity even more.

You don’t question it, you find it odd that he’s been so attentive lately, so involved with your days, but again, you don’t want to question it. You actually like receiving his attention. It was a good change.

“Father, do you know when Thor will be returning?”

Through his reflection from the mirror in front of you, you see him shrug and briefly lift his gaze to look at you before focusing back on your hair. “No, it seems after the dark elves attacked he hardly tells me anything. Why bored of me already?”

You narrow your gaze on his reflection, but you dont think to get too deep into what was going on. “No, it’s just I find myself bored most of the day after school, and well after mother and Loki died he always tried to make time to do something with me.”

“Do you miss Loki?”

“Yes,” you answer without hesitation.

“Even after all he did? All the terrible things he’s caused?”

You sigh and look down at your hands and create sparks of lightning between your fingers. “Loki was always nice to me, he never did the things to me that he did to, Thor. Plus, mother always said never to think of him badly,” you pause and close your fist, feeling your eyes sting with tears whilst going unaware of your “fathers” stunned pause after your comment. “So, yes I miss my brother.”

Your father clears his throat and goes back to finishing your braid in silence, patting your shoulder to signal you that he was done. When you stand up and lift your gaze to examine the braid, you gasp and feel those salty tears you withheld roll down your cheeks.

“What? Did it come out wrong?” Your father queries.

You reach for your braid and gently run your fingers down it, responding in an almost breathless manner. “It’s how Loki would braid my hair.” You turn around to face your father and you offer him a short, sweet smile. “Thank you, father.” You move to your desk and grab your things to go to class, stopping at your doorway and looking over your shoulder. “I’m going to go to class now, I’ll see you at dinner.”

Just as you turn to leave, he stops you. “Wait. Do you want to skip class today and do something else?”

“Uh,” you part your lips, spinning on your heels to face him still in your room. “But you always say learning is the fundamental of being a good princess.” You tilt your head and narrow your gaze on his face, searching it for any sign of trick.

“Well,” he shrugs as he slowly makes his way to you. “Learning magic is the fundamental of becoming a good princess too and then even better when you become queen.”

You scoff and manage an amused grin. “Queen?”

“Why yes, after I die who will rule Asgard?”

“Thor,” you respond.

Your father clasps his hands on his back and falls beside you, shaking his head as he’s quick to correct your answer. “What if I don’t want it to be, Thor? You my sweet si—daughter, will make a perfect fit to be queen, with your powers and knowledge. That’s why learning magic is beneficial.” He puts his hand on your shoulder and turns you around to walk off with you at his side. “What do you know about magic?”

“Not so much,” you shrug, “just a bit of what Loki and Frigga taught me.”

“Don’t you want to learn more?” Your father presses as he guides you out of the golden castle. “Just imagine with your powers and magic combined, you’d be powerful.”

Perhaps you should question his behavior deeper, really just think about what he was proposing—learning magic from your father?

But that part of you that felt your fathers negligence in the past loved the attention he was recently giving you. You desired to be loved by him like he loved Thor. So that’s why you didn’t want to question this strange new behavior.

You smile widely and finally come to an easy agreement. “Okay I want to learn more magic.”

“Good,” your father pats your shoulder, guiding you to the green gardens outside. “First let’s see your power, what’s your highest running record now?”

“Forty-five seconds.”

“Hmm,” your father hums as he parts away and stops you both in your tracks, stepping to the side to stand before you. “Have you tried incorporating your lightning when you run? It'd be like when you travel with your lightning from one place to another; it’s instantaneous and happens in a blink of an eye, right?”

“Right,” you nod whilst you place your books down. “How come I’ve never tried that before?”

“Try it,” your father insists.

With a newborn eagerness to impress your father before you, you summon lightning and do a quick outfit change, feeling a new surge of happiness within you at this moment. Albeit a small hint of doubt sparked in your brain. You began to stretch and didn’t fail to question what irked you. “Father, are you not busy? I just mean, lately all you’ve done is been with...me.”

Your father walks back to stay at a safe distance from you when you run, crossing his arms over his chest and shrugging, “well is it a crime spending time with my only daughter.” He finishes with an almost nervous chuckle. “Anyways stop thinking too much about it and break that record so we can get to teaching you magic.”

You stand up straight and nod apprehensively, getting into a running stance and then looking at him one last time to see him point his head in the way you were going to run. That single gesture sets you off to super speed your way through your usual running coarse, but this time unlike the other using lightning like your father suggested and finding that it gave you an incredible boast. Even the way you saw your surroundings was different, before you would only see the same greenery, the great blue water and beautiful green lush forest; now you saw lightning, it was like traveling through the Bifrost.

And regarding your personal running record, it did wonders to it.

Once you returned to your previous spot you saw your father smiling at you for what seemed to be the first time in ages. “Good job, y/n. You got twenty-five seconds off your previous record!”

At first you’re confused on how to take his positive feedback, his appreciation that you just stare at him dumb-struck and in slight awe. It isn’t until much later do you find your right reaction; you beam at him and utter, “thank you, father.”

——

“Oh, brother. This is it. I take my leave.”

“You fool, you didn’t listen!”

Tears fill your eyes and you wipe away the tears that had already rolled down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry.”

“Lady Sif, get help!”

“Somebody help!”

Yeah, you didn’t really agree with that slight part, Lady Sif was a spectacular warrior and deserved more than that part in the play. But nonetheless it was just play.

“I’m sorry for all I’ve done.”

“Shh. It’s all right. Hold on.”

“I’m sorry I tried to rule earth.”

“They’d be lucky to have you.”

“I’m sorry about that thing with the Tesseract. I just couldn’t help myself. I'm a trickster.”

“Yes. So mischievous.”

“I’m sorry about that time I turned you into a frog.”

You yawn and lean back in your seat, grabbing a piece of fruit and throwing it in your mouth as you continue to watch the play, crying one last time when fake Thor cries out, after that you grew bored and watched as the play ended. Once it was you jumped to your feet to attempt to leave, but then at your side you saw the real Thor.

When he noticed that you saw him, he smiled and waved and you followed by speeding towards him, instantly getting welcomed by a hug. “Hello, sister.”

“Thor! You’re finally back!” You beamed up at him.

“Yes, for a more permanent stay this time.” He informed you as you parted away, drifting his gaze to your father now. “Father.”

“Uh, my son, Thor, has returned!” Your father announced, “greetings my boy.”

The crowd around clapped and Thor seemed to be unamused by this whole ordeal. “This is an interesting play, what's it called?”

“The tragedy of Loki of Asgard. The people wanted to commemorate him.”

That’s very doubtful, considering what he did.

“Ah, indeed they should. I like the statue. A lot better looking then he was when he was alive, though. A little less weaselly, less greasy, maybe.” Thor continued making your father laugh nervously and made you just look at him amused and confused. “Do you know what this is?” Thor asked as he lifted the huge Skull in his hand.

“The skull of Surtur. That’s a formidable weapon!”

Thor proceeds to hand the skull to a guard, “do me a favor. Lock this away in a vault so it doesn’t turn into a giant monster and destroy the whole planet.” Thor walks forward and gestures you to follow him.

“Thank you, dear. Um, so it’s back to Midgard for you, is it?” Your father questioned Thor, gaining your full unwavered attention even if he had answered that to you already.

“Nope.” Thor answered as he threw his hammer up and then caught it with ease. “You know I’ve been having this reoccurring dream lately. Every night, I see Asgard fall into ruins.”

“That’s just a silly dream,” your father turned Thor down, “signs of an overactive imagination.”

“Possibly.” Thor quipped, “but then I decided to go out there and investigate. And what do I find, but the nine Realms completely in chaos.” Thor repeats his previous action with his hammer and gets closer to your father. “Enemies of Asgard assembling, plotting our demise all while you, Odin, the protector of those Nine Realms are sitting here in your bathrobe, eating grapes.”

When you look at your father you notice that he appears quite nervous, it was strange, very strange, but considersing that Thor wasn’t amused and appeared threatening, you stayed silent.

“Yes, it is best to respect our neighbors’ freedom.”

“Yes, of course the freedom to be massacred.” Thor throws his hammer forward, frightening the crowd and puzzling you even more.

“Yes,” your father tries to excuse himself and his negligence, “besides I’ve been rather busy myself.”

“Watching theater.” Thor remarks.

“Well, raising a teenage daughter, board meetings and security council meetings.”

“You’re really going to make me do it?” Thor quips, receiving just a simple question from your father before Thor throws his hammer far and walks behind your father, to threaten him. “You know nothing will stop Mjolnir, as it returns to my hand. Not even your face.”

“Thor!” You call frighteningly, receiving a quick smug answer.

“Watch this, sister.”

“You’ve gone quite mad. Y/N, stop him. You’ll be executed for this.”

“Then I’ll see you on the other side, brother.”

Your eyes widen and you freeze in your spot, keeping your gaze stuck on the pair beside you and gasping as your father transforms into Loki.

“But,” you try to question through your confusion, “but…” you pause and Loki turns to you, trying to approach you as you stay frozen and in disbelief with tears filling your eyes. “You...lied.”

“Y/N, I can explain.”

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

Dawn

Loki x fem!Reader

ONE/TWO/THREE SHOT

Warnings: mention of past trauma and fluff.

Summary: A truce to end all wars leads to an alliance between Earth and Asgard in the form of Loki marrying a mortal. None of them what this. None except fate.

Word Count: I know I have a lot of WiPs. They worry me. My office changed and now I have to travel forty minutes to and from the place and boy do I get tired after that! This is one of the reasons I’ve not been able to put up much. And I know this will lead to a lot of readers fading away (I have seen this happening already) which is okay. A little heartbreak but I’ll live. But I just hope everyone stays safe and takes care of themselves.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

"This is the stupidest thing I've ever done."

"I think insulting your father in front of thousands of his Hydra henchmen is still on top."

The most anxious day of your life and Anthony Edward Stark still makes you feel at ease.

The reflection in the mirror in front of you is of a timid woman with not an ounce of beauty to her name but for the title that comes with her unworthy blood. At least that is what you think.

Tony can read it in those eyes that are still carrying the lost sleep from many nights gone.

"The Asgardians have no idea how lucky they are to have you. And your father was an idiot for giving you away."

He takes the golden chains from your hands that you're unable to lock at the back to do it for you. "But then again, if it weren't for you, we would have never won the war."

You mock a laugh. "Oh, come on, Mr Stark. I'm a freaking ball that was played by earth and Asgard's most unhinged boomers."

The clasp on the chain shuts and Tony's brows go up. "I could not have said it better. Odin does seem like he should chill out more."

"Right?"

You both chuckle and Tony presses away creases on your shoulder before catching your gaze in the mirror.

"You do know you don't have to go through this, Y/N. You just have to say the word and every one of us out there will fight those golden bastards for you."

Your lips stretch in an involuntary smile that fills your heart to the brim and you feel your eyes get wet for the man who has been more of a father to you than your own blood and bones. "You know that is exactly the reason I said yes to the wedding, right? I don't want any more bloodshed. Let's just take it as me repenting for my father's sins and call it a day. Although I'm glad this peace offering didn't come with shady terms like the Asgardians ruling earth or something."

Tony blinks and looks into some unknown void. "Hm." Some afterthought later he looks down at you adjusting a flower in his jacket's pocket, patting and jumping a little in excitement at how great he looked. "Maybe Odin wants to give one of his disappointments some responsibilities or something. To keep him busy, you know."

"Mm-hmm," you hummed, giving yourself one final look in the mirror before picking up the bouquet of Asgardian orchids- the golden flowers in full bloom.

"But honestly though, if he does something you don't like, you have to tell me. Or anyone of us. Nat! Yes, she will take care of him for you on the down-low. It'll be so quiet even he won't know what hit him."

You twirl around towards Tony, making him question the whole event once more. He could not let this happen to you. No. You deserved better. So much better than some egotistical maniac of a God who once wanted to rule your planet.

"Ready to walk me down the aisle?" You ask him with stars in your eyes.

"No?" He replies with clouds of doubt lingering over him.

"Tony."

"Okay, fine. But I am going to sulk about this throughout the wedding."

.

The great halls of the palace have been decorated with flora of all hues. Civilians have gathered outside to witness the wedding of their Prince. The old ones are curious about who would marry the adopted child. The young ones make merry, rejoicing their Prince has finally found love and the kingdom can once again celebrate after what seems like aeons. The guards have been doubled and the groom's brother is all over the place, running around to make sure everything is in order. It is only when Sif rolls her eyes and audibly groans before dragging Thor by his arms outside his brother's chambers does he stop. Be with your brother, he is ordered before she takes off to cover for him, leaving him to discover what he's been dreading all this week- what is Loki going to feel about this.

It surprises him when it does not take much to open the door and find his brother dressed in his most exquisite armour for the occasion. The gold glitters under the sun rays falling through the windows and balcony and the cape flutters luxuriously reminding every witness that none could carry one as Loki did.

Thor wonders how much of his mother's poise he sees in Loki while he stands overlooking Asgard. His eyes are taking in each and every living pixel while his hands are trying to scratch the nervousness off each other.

Mother would have loved to watch him start this new chapter today, Thor wonders gleefully on the inside.

Maybe it's the reluctant thought of their mother that travels unspoken across the room and makes the other brother turn around.

"Let's get this over with," Loki announces, walking towards the door.

Well, clearly not what I was hoping for, Thor muses, following his brother out.

"How are you feeling brother?" He has to ask.

"Like I might puke my insides any moment."

Vivid.

"Is there anything I can bring you that might ease your stomach?" I mean a brother can try, right?

"Oh yes, of course! Bring a very rare herb called common sense and feed it to your father. He seems to be suffering from this particular deficiency."

"Okay, Loki, that's a bit-"

"Say it's a bit on the nose and I will punch you in the face right now, Thor. I'm being married against my will to an earthling against her will. Father might be a professional matchmaker in his days but I am not one of his pawns to be used in some peace treaty like this."

Thor sighs because that is all he can do right now. No matter how much tries to defend the Allfather, the fact remains that two people are being brought together without much room for their thoughts and opinions. “Weren’t you the one to bring forth the idea of peace with the one planet that father has not tried to conquer and the one that still considers us friends? It is all for the better. And Y/N is an amazing woman. I am sure she would make a wonderful partner-”

“The peace holds because you are known to their heroes, Thor. And if peace is the subject let’s just marry you with Y/N, why don’t we?”

Thor mocks a muted laugh but Loki does not stir, staring at his blond brother with a piercing gaze that finally makes the former shift his weight uncomfortably between his legs. “That’s what I thought. Keep trying to defend the Allfather unless he stands against what you desire. You do realise this was the very reason I tried to stop you from becoming king in the first place at that time.”

Before he can get a word in- or at least try to think of one- Loki has already moved past the great doors to be welcomed by a crowd of royals gathered in the hall at one side and Y/N’s family on the other.

He knows. He knows deep within his heart that the royals are here just to witness what drama goes down this time, what does the bastard of Odin do this time to wreck chaos midst these celebrations. The other side? They are here to make sure they have his bones if Y/N says the word. So, it’s just another day in my life. But he has to admit to himself how he envies you for having a cavalry of the galaxy’s most lethal beings protecting you without so much as a word. What is this camaraderie exactly? A strategic alliance? A well-put band of the unfit?

It’s love, my dear.

It is not hard to miss Friga’s words fluttering inside once he climbs the stairs to stand by Odin’s side. Love, Loki mocks a laugh, it does make you do mad things. He is not paying attention to the grand speech Odin is giving, and for once he can relate to a yawning Clint in the front. All he wants is for this charade to end once and for all. So much that he might actually be happy if Y/N says no at the very last minute. Would save both of us some very awkward lifetimes ahead.

The great doors open again. Everyone rises from their seats to welcome the bride. Loki isn’t even interested in looking that way till the sun is reflected in his eyes from the veil that covers your face. And that is the first time he looks at you.

There is the strangest flutter inside his gut to witness his colours on someone else; on you. The armour in a matching shade of gold adorns your shoulders and arms. Gold chains have the honour of covering your chest and back, curving down from behind to the plates on your waist. Green of the gown dazzles like the galaxy moving around your existence, snug all around your curves. A Goddess walks on the land of Asgard. And every single soul is in awe.

Loki blinks under the light of the suns. The air seems to leave his lungs and time slows down. Everything fades away; except for the woman that walks towards him in arms with earth’s protector. His mind is questioning whether she is a mere human while his heart is trying to figure out the pressing sensation it is feeling.

“Lady Y/N, daughter of...under the care of the house of Stark,” Odin announces to the crowd, breaking Loki out the trance whilst he watches you climb the steps with Stark, come to stand by his side and give the man a kiss before he takes a step back, his gaze never leaving your face, waiting for a single line of doubt to take you away from all of this.

Well, one of the father figures understands.

“Time for the union,” Odin declares to the two of you.

You turn towards Loki, your heart beating in your ears as you watch your future husband for what seems like the rest of eternity through the veil. Even though you have been trying to convince everyone that it’s the right thing to do, your panicking heart seems to be having doubts of its own.

Breathe! Breathe, breathe, breathe, Y/N. Just breathe, please.

“Unveil her, Loki,” Odin softly orders the God.

You feel the heat run to your ears and neck. What fuckery-

“She will unveil herself, if she wants to, Allfather. Do not belittle her with your old traditions,” Loki points out, much to Odin’s dismay.

Damn right, Tony thinks to himself as he pauses and looks inside in disbelief for liking Loki there for a moment.

Loki does not miss your hands going to your solar plexus to wipe off the sweat before moving the veil back. The suns finally get to touch your face, that glows even when everything inside you cripples in anxiety. Y/E/C eyes meet the ocean of green looking at you with deep curiosity before you look away.

“Bring forward your hands unto each other so you may be tied by the fabric used by the first Gods to be wed under the suns and moons,” Sif requests as she holds a red fabric in her hand while her eyes travel to Thor standing at the end of the stairs.

Loki is first to bring forward his hands, patiently waiting for yours.

The hesitance is not for the ceremony as much as for the fear of him finding your drumming pulse under his touch. Oh, well, I’m pretty sure he can hear it from here right now. And so you bring forward your hands to slide into his, feeling the heat from your palms being siphoned by his cold ones.

A chill runs throughout your body; like a feverish tingle when your stomach is on the verge of throwing its contents out. And Loki seems to sense it too. It’s really hard to ignore for him, as a matter of fact. So is the repeated rise of your chest to breathe as much as you can while undergoing a panic attack; a state he is all too familiar with.

“Róaðu taugarnar á henni, gyðja styrks og umhyggju,” he whispers only for you to listen and still it does not make sense till you can feel an ascended calm run from your hands to the rest of your body, bringing the chaos to a standstill.

How did he-

The removal of clouds of anxiety seems to suddenly clear your vision and you watch the God holding you in a new light. His eyes are soft towards you, his touch careful and light. His head bows a little and his body is still as a boulder. If only I had a backbone like him, you wonder when Sif wraps the red around your hands, binding them together neatly with a bow on top.

“Time for your vows,” she whispers to the both of you with a smile before taking a step back.

You look at her and watch the face of a friend before your eyes come back to rest on the red fabric. So much power resides in this little piece of cloth.

“Under the stars of Valhalla,” Loki begins, bringing your eyes up from the fabric to his face like an involuntary reflex, “I take thee, Y/N, as my wife, if you shall have me. I vow to protect you and be by your side in life...and death.”

...okay...that was...okay.

You clear your throat as discreetly as possible, taking in one long breath before looking back at right into Loki’s eyes. “U-under the stars of Valhalla, I take thee, Loki, as my husband, if you shall have me. I-I vow to protect you and be by your side in life. And...and death.”

No sooner are the words said than the fabric starts to glow with a blinding light, turning into butterflies made purely of light and flying to the skies, marking the bond witnessed by the heavens old and new.

.

"If you need anything, your handmaidens will be a call away."

There is comfort in Sid's gentle smile. If only you could ask her to stay. But that's not usually how the night goes.

"Take care of her, brother," Thor comments before a strong pat comes for Loki's back and the God rolls his eyes.

You know Thor means well but those words in no way bring comfort to you as the doors to Loki's room opens and are shut behind the two of you.

Silence marks the first few seconds of being alone in a room for the first time. Well, not first really. There was that time when the two of you had to fight your way out of the Hydra's facility.

"Nice colour theme," you finally say out loud standing by the door, awkwardly swinging on your toes while holding a fur coat given to you when you were shivering at dinner.

Loki takes his helmet off and your eyes follow the raven strands of hair flowing in the night breeze dancing in from the windows and open balcony. How does he have such lush growth? Maybe it’s the water of Asgard.

The helmet rests on the table with a soft thud. “You can take the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch,” he states, already undoing his armour.

“Oh, no,” you press, taking a step towards him, “please, you don’t have to get uncomfortable in your own room on my account. I’ll take the couch. It looks more comfortable than my bed anyway. So…yeah. Um...where can I change?”

Loki blinks and turns his gaze towards an archway by the end of the wall. “That’s...the bathroom. Everything has been arranged for you in there.”

You nod even though Loki has already gotten busy with undoing what remains of his armour while you start on undoing yours. The bracelets come off first, then the earrings. But the worst is the clasps of chains choking you from your neck down your back. I should have asked Tony how he did it, dammit. No matter how much your hands try they just don’t seem to find the stupid openings anywhere.

“Allow me,” comes the voice from behind you, startling your already tensed nerves. And as if that isn’t enough, the touch of his cold fingers on your neck seems to fire up whatever nerve endings still seem to be working. Every undoing is soft and careful, always ending with a click. You can feel your hairs rise in anticipation of this foreign touch, goosebumps all over your back that you are pretty sure Loki can notice. You have to stop breathing in order to keep the shiver in check. It's only when your neck feels light once the last of the gold is removed do you take a lungful, catching the odd piece of jewellery in your hand, thanking Loki and hastily making your way to the doorless bathroom with a wooden partition made of intricate carvings as the only thing blocking the view on either side.

When you come out Loki has already changed into a loose black shirt over black pyjamas for the night, ready to take the couch. "I said I'll take the c-"

The creak followed by a crash drowns your words and makes you smack your hand on your mouth. The sofa lies in ruins on the floors, the legs done away with while the arms rests have fallen flat. And the thought of Loki almost sitting down on it fills you with the guilt of having the thought of laughing out loud at the scene.

"Oh, God. You okay?" You have to ask, partly because you did see him rise up safely thanks to his wonderful reflexes but mainly because the pressing jaw tells you somebody might die tomorrow morning.

"I'll have one of the servants clean this up," is all he says.

Servants. Ruined couch. Wedding night. That cannot go right in any way imaginable. Not at least for your overthinking mind.

"No, that's okay. We can share the bed," you blurt out, not wanting any outside attention, "i-if that's okay with you."

And so, both of you lie down on the king-sized bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering what odd decisions did you have to make to get you here. Even though the space over the bed is surprisingly a lot, the senses just cannot help but notice the other one's tiniest movements, every breath, every gulp and every sigh in the silent night.

"I'm sorry," you finally manage to say softly, still staring at the ceiling while your fingernails gnaw at each other. "That you were dragged into all of...this. I really thought the whole gist of a wedding between two kingdoms was over on my planet."

Silence resumes and as the seconds pass you feel a shot embarrassment rise in your throat for saying that. Clearly Loki is not interested in hearing any of this, you moron. He's a God married to a dumb mortal. This must be the worst day of his-

"Don't apologize for the mindless traditions of old men, dear. We are just pawns in their quest for power."

Weight of the words aside, there is something really soothing about Loki's voice mixing with the sweet cold of the night.

"All of this could have been avoided if Odin took his word back and let you live as you wished, no matter what your father promised."

You agree in a hum, bringing the duvet closer to your chest.

"But I presume you thought it better to avoid blood and take it as it was presented to you."

The words in that honey laden voice seem to travel over your exposed skin like a feather.

"Yeah. Yes. It would have been the better option but I could not stand to watch my friends and family suffer anymore. Tony deserves to rest and live a happy life with his family. Steve and Bucky are finally getting around to find their love for each other. Natasha has settled down with Maria and Clint can finally stay with his family. The battle had already taken a toll on them. I would have rather killed myself than make them put their life on the line again for the whole...planet I guess."

You do not notice but Loki has turned his head to look at you, to notice the quick blink of your eyes, the tug of your fingers on the edge of the duvet, the lick of your lips before biting on them hard.

"Well-" you clear your throat, scratching your forehead for some invisible itch- "I'm human. So, I'm supposed to make the dumbest decisions. But I cannot imagine how you must be feeling mixed in all of this. I'm sure this is the last thing you wanted for yourself in exchange for some reduced sentence. T-that's what Thor told me."

You turn to look at him and are caught off guard by the moons shining in on the pair of greens looking at you with utmost interest. And once you lock your gaze with them, it's hard to let go. Swimming in the springs in a forest under a full moon night while the world sleeps, that's what his gaze feels like. Why wouldn't it; they seem to be touching you in crevices untouched and unbared.

He continues to watch you and sigh. "To be honest I stopped putting any hope in Odin to think about me a long time ago. Nothing he does to me or for me surprises me anymore."

Your lips pucker down, letting the words sink in before you decide to turn in his direction.

"Well, I'll try to make this situation suck a little less as I can...though I highly doubt I'd be able to create much havoc here."

"Oh-" Loki feels his eyes close as a smirk lands on his face and he turns in your direction too- "trust me, darling. With me, there is no corner of this place that you cannot create havoc in."

You find yourself chuckling, letting a few seconds pass before you lick your lips and wonder whether to let out this tiny naughty piece of your mind into bed between the two of you.

The lick and the tug of your teeth at your mesmerising lips do not go unnoticed by the God; something that is soon brewing a question about why his insides are so restless at the sight of your lips having to feel the torture. Curse the unknown! "What?"

"Hm?"

"There is something you want to say but you're not allowing yourself to."

You take a deep breath and move your head just a little closer towards him in order to whisper. "It's not that I'm not mischievous... it's just that I'm often presumed to be the embodiment of a golden child and so I've never been caught. Ever."

The slight shift in Loki's expression that elevates from seriousness to confusion calls for clarification.

"I...once laced your brother's drink with laxatives because he pissed me off."

Confusion.

Surprise.

Shock.

"Y/N Y/L/N," Loki nearly gasps, feeling his head rise from the fluffy pillow, "you did what?"

And the night drowns with the light laughter and old stories for the mutual feeling of detest for siblings and contrast in the view of the world. Discussions went on through the timeless breeze blowing throughout the night about the worlds beyond and the things undiscovered; everything riding on a melody till one of you feel victim to the sweet sounds of slumber.

Loki's eyes are stuck on you all night, watching the serenity washing over your face as all worries seem to fall away while you let yourself drift in peace. Beautiful seems to be an understatement according to the God.

Even though she's an immortal, she does not deserve to be tied to me for eternity. That's a fate too cruel.

But something inside him does not want these words to be true; a gentle tug to his heartstrings by you, that seems to have struck a chord he cannot stop playing.

[ancientwastedlores]

The Support System (Ch:2)

SUMMARY: The Avengers have managed to collect all the infinity stones across the universe, and are currently keeping them in far corners of the world, only for research and to see if they can improve the planet and its people. Reader is a researcher with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, as well as a field agent. Loki is currently serving time for his actions in New York City in 2012.

A/N: Thank you for the love on the first chapter! You can find the same on AO3, if you prefer that. Let me know if you like this and I’ll keep posting more :) Also, should I start a tag list for this? I’m still navigating this platform, and I see many fic writers having a tag list for their fics. Anyway, enjoy! 

Chapter: 2/?

Warnings: N/A

Audience: general.

_______________________________________________________________________

Tony likes to hand out the agendas of the day to the Avengers personally. He jogs around the tower with a stack of papers, wearing his tracksuit and headphones, a habit Pepper encouraged, since he never actually leaves his lab to do anything physical.

He gently opens the door and places the sheet on a table placed right next to the door. That table is specifically for the agendas. You once threw your keys on it and Tony passive aggressively made a point of picking up your keys and placing them on the floor to place his sheet.

You’re still in bed with Loki, who is facing away from you and snoring lightly. Tony opens the door to place the sheet and notices two heads instead of one in your bed. He moves closer to see Loki, widens his eyes, and promptly runs out.

‘What?’ Nat asks, running past Tony, then stopping. ‘Loki!’ ‘In her room!?’ ‘Yes!’ ‘I…’ Nat is trying to peer in through the crack Tony left open. ‘Are you sure!?’ ‘Do YOU want to look?’ ‘No!’ Nat nearly shouts.

Tony shuts the door. ‘I’ll talk to her about it later’.

‘Good, I’m not going to’ Nat says, then places her headphones back and continues running.

xx

Around 8 AM, after Loki has left your room, you change into your field uniform and walk to the kitchen. The rest of the Avengers, including Loki, are in there, and the cook is making bacon and eggs.

‘Hi Samantha’ you greet the cook. She smiles back at you. You pour yourself a cup of coffee and Tony grabs your arm, making you nearly spill the coffee.

‘Hey man!’ you yell. ‘Please tell me you aren’t sleeping with Loki’ Tony hisses. ‘What… no! I’m not, let go of my arm!’ Tony lets go. ‘I saw him in your bed’. ‘Yeah, we just had a heart to heart about our past and fell asleep, it’s no big deal’. He narrows his eyes at you. ‘You confided in Loki about your past?’ ‘Well, him more than me’. ‘Uhuh’.

You raise an eyebrow at Tony. ‘It’s fine’ you assure him. He doesn’t believe you, which is clear in his face, but walks back to the dining table.

You grab a plate for yourself and get some fruit, eggs and bread. You take your seat at the table and join in on the conversation everyone’s having.

xx

‘Right’ you announce, walking into the lab with Bruce and Tony. ‘TODAY is the day we speak to Harry’. ‘Harry?’ Tony asks. ‘Yeah. The Reality Gem’. ‘You named the Reality Gem “Harry”?’ Bruce asks. ‘Yes. You know, the redheaded prince of England. And the Reality gem is Red’ you grin, proud of your name. They roll their eyes but laugh, and go to their respective workstations.

Doctor Strange had found a way to speak to the Time Stone, and provided everything he could for you to be able to do the same with the Reality stone. He had done everything save for actually coming down the lab, which he couldn’t because he had to be at the Sanctum Sanctorum. But you had gone through every single paper he sent, every theory you talked over, and every idea you shared. After a while, it was clear that the code to cracking all the stones wasn’t the same, and so you’d have to start from scratch for every stone.

Frustrating as it was, you did love a challenge.

‘Maybe we should just build a body around it like we did for Vision and let it literally speak to us’ you say, frustrated, a few hours later. 

‘We did consider that. We even have the technology for it, but we can’t have six people walking around with stones in their heads’ Tony says.

‘Oh, is THAT the problem?’ you chuckle. ‘Not the insane amount of power and resources it would take, not to mention how the costs outweigh the benefits’.

‘She’s right, it took Thor to open the cradle last time’. Bruce says. ‘And if we give the stones a body, it could do anything’.

‘At least the stones restrict movement’ you say.

‘I don’t think the lack of a body would stop the stones’ Tony says. ‘Besides. Strange got his to talk while it still sits in that necklace, so I’m sure we can work it out. Did you read through the papers he sent?’

‘I did’ you say. ‘Twice over, made some notes if you’d like to see’ you project the contents of your laptop onto a hologram before Tony. ‘We’ve tried it the few ways Strange suggested, but what he actually did is very particular to the Time Stone’.

‘Series of time loops and manipulations in the mirror dimension’ Tony reads. ‘We can’t do that, of course, we don’t even know how to use it’.

‘Can’t we take the reality stone into the mirror dimension?’ Bruce asks.

‘What then?’ you ask. ‘It was purely an accident that Stephen even managed to speak to the stone. He managed to reverse and study his actions somehow to write a paper’.

‘So we’re stuck in the lab, then’ Tony sighs, and turns to walk to his table.

‘Unless you just want to take it to the mirror dimension and just mess around with it’ you say, half-joking.

Tony stops in his tracks. He promptly turns back to face you. You see the look on his face and push the hologram aside. ‘Tony, you know I love a mystery, but I wouldn’t advice getting stuck in the mirror dimension with an Infinity Stone unless you REALLY know what you’re doing’.

‘Strange did it’ he scoffs. ‘Strange knows what he’s doing’ you say. ‘Are you saying Strange is smarter than I am!?’ Tony demands.

Oh dear.

‘I’m saying he knows more about this’ you walk back to your computer and pull up another paper he sent you and project it to a hologram. ‘Read that’ you highlight a line using your fingers. ‘The mirror dimension is linked to the dark dimension, playing around with an Infinity Stone without understanding how to use it could not only trap you in the mirror dimension, it could draw you into the dark dimension’ you swipe the hologram away. ‘And I hate to bring this up, but after New York, this should be the last thing you throw yourself into’.

Tony sighs. ‘You’re right, kid’.

You close the holograms and walk back to your desk. Tony’s still standing in the same spot though. You sit down and pull yourself close to the desk.

‘You’re smart’ Tony declares.

You smile at him.

‘So I can’t understand why the hell you’d spend the night with Loki’. ‘You did what?’ Bruce shouted. You glare at Tony. ‘THANKS’. ‘YOU SLEPT WITH LOKI!?’ Bruce’s voice is unnaturally high pitched. ‘I did no such thing, we were talking and fell asleep!’ you defend yourself. ‘Can we get back to the stones’. ‘Just…’ Tony leans over your table. ‘Promise me you won’t let this be a thing, he’s dangerous’. ‘Hey, I can take care of myself. And he’s more like you than you think’. ‘I take offense to that’ Tony says, without actually sounding or looking offended. ‘You don’t like being compared to a God?’ you ask teasingly.

Tony smirks. ‘You got me. I’m going back to work’ he finally turns away to sit at his desk. The three of you continue working.

xx

At last. The training room. You walk into the roomy glass cage that has an arsenal of knives, swords, spears, guns, and other alien weaponry lining the wall. You feel at home.

‘What we feeling like today?’ Natasha’s voice comes up behind you. ‘I’m feeling the katanas’ you say, your hands running over the colourful handles of the katanas.

Nat takes a pair for herself, and you take yours. ‘Hand to hand first’ Nat says. As is usual. You place the katanas in the harness strapped to your back and take your fighting stance.

Nat goes to punch you and you block it. Her other hand comes to chop at your neck, which you also manage to block by holding her wrist, then flipping her over so she lands on her back.

‘At least give me a challenge’ you tease. ‘Just getting your ego up so I can bring it crashing down’ she smiles, as she gets up. You know she’s not lying. ‘You’re terribly mean’ you say. You take your fighting stance once again.

Two hours later, after your session with Natasha ends, you place the Katanas back on the wall. ‘Can I take these on the extraction mission?’

‘You can take anything you want. Just don’t take too much, we don’t want to be weighed down’. ‘Right’ you look at the katanas. They really are gorgeous. ‘Where did we get these?’ ‘They used to be Lady Sif’s. She left them with S. H. I. E. L. D, and S. H. I. E. L. D gave it to Tony’.

You touch the handles again, which has some Norse story etched on it in gold and red tones. ‘They’re beautiful’.

‘They are’ Natasha agrees, unhooking her harness and placing it on the wall as well. ‘Do you know the story?’

You nod. You’ve grown up reading stories of Greek and Norse myths. ‘This scene is Odin stealing poetry from the Giants and flying back to Asgard with it’ you point at something in the handle. ‘That’s earth. As Odin was flying over Earth, some of the poetry spilled here, which is how we have the art form’.

You stare at the handle a while longer.

‘Do you have a thing going on with Loki?’ Natasha asks. ‘What! No! How many people has Tony told?’ ‘Just me. I happened to pass by when he left your agenda’. ‘Bruce knows too’. ‘Bruce!? Why?’ ‘Cuz Tony can’t shut up’ you say. ‘Does it bother you?’ ‘Him not shutting up or people knowing about it?’ ‘The second one’. ‘I don’t really care’ you shrug, knowing that it was inevitable, ‘But I know how silly rumours can affect people, so I wish people would stop spinning it like that for Loki’s sake’. ‘Right’ she nods, understanding. ‘I’ll make sure no one else knows’. ‘Thanks Nat’ you smile at her. ‘I have to shower and go back to the lab. Bye!’

‘Bye!’

xx

‘We’ve made progress!’ Tony yells at you as you walk back in.

‘That’s excellent!’ you know Tony is absolutely dying to tell you what he uncovered, but you aren’t going to give him the satisfaction of telling you immediately for outing your little sleepover to Bruce. ‘But you should eat first’.

‘Yeah yeah, listen to this, so Bruce said…’ ‘No, I literally meant eat first, talk later’.

Tony looks like you’ve just slapped him. ‘It’ll take a second’.

‘I won’t hear it until you’ve had something to eat’ you unwrap the falafels and shawarmas you got from the food truck downstairs.

He glares at you, grabs a falafel, takes the smallest bite and sets it back down again. ‘Now…’

‘Actually, I could eat too’ Bruce walks over to grab himself a shawarma, and proceeds to open the wrapper very, very slowly.

You grin at Tony. Understanding that there really is no way you will listen, he sits down to eat a proper meal.

After throwing away the wrappers, he comes and sits down next to you. ‘Bruce said it would be so funny if we got Vision to talk to it like it’s his cousin, and I got an idea’.

‘Okay?’ ‘They’re family!’ ‘Ohana’ you say, still chewing and looking at him with dead seriousness.

Tony glares at you again, the occasional eating noises from Bruce making you internally lose it.

‘As I was saying, we don’t have to use the same Time Stone method, but we don’t have to completely abandon it either’. ‘But they do vastly different things from each other, we even tried all the…’ ‘Yes, but you haven’t tried combinations’ he runs to your laptop. ‘I was going through your notes; look at what you’ve written here’.

You read it: "So basically it’s like those old rotary phones. Strange ran the dial to 6, then 4, then 9, then 1, until it dialled a number and made a call."

 ‘I was really sleepy when I wrote that’ you say. ‘We can’t crack the stone, we have to learn to first use it, then connect with it’. ‘We’ve been over this, Tony, none of us know how…’ ‘No, I won’t do it’.

You were fully ready to shoot Tony down, but damn, he decides to be reasonable!?

‘I was thinking we can just put Vision in the mirror dimension and ask him to use it in a combination of ways. See what clicks. I mean if anyone would know, it would be Vision, right? Maybe if there’s a way to speak to him while he is IN the mirror dimension, we can remotely control it’  

‘I’ll have to ask Strange first’. ‘DO THAT’ Tony screams and Bruce jumps. ‘LET ME EAT MAN!’ he yells back.

You chuckle. ‘So… I'll email Strange then, shall I?’ ‘Yes. And kid?’

You roll your eyes but smile at the endearment. ‘Yes?’

‘You did good. I couldn’t have done it without you’.

You take the laptop from Tony’s hands and sit down to write the email to Strange.

_______________________________________________________________________

[theatrelove3000]

You are my Sunshine Part 1

Hi hi hi! I forgot that I was posting on here so I am back! I am going to post three today because they all go together. This is a very angsty so if you are sensitive to death and depression, this is your warning.

Find Part 2 here

Summary: Noelle gets word that her mother, whom she sees rather infrequently, is very sick. She goes to find her in the hospital. 

Warnings:Death, anxiety, depression, I can’t think of any others but maybe swearing?

You Are My Sunshine

Noelle POV:

"I cannot tell you how happy I am for you!"

"Thank you, Noelle." Sif is grinning from ear to ear, her hand caught between my own, admiring her ring. "It's about time, don't you think? It's been almost two years since we began courting."

I give her a half smile and wait for her to realize what she had just said. When she did, her face changed from a smile to an apologetic look.

"I-I mean-" she starts but I cut her off.

"I know what you meant, Sif. It is alright. I know that Loki and I have been together for a very long time without him proposing but we are waiting until we both believe that we are ready for a marriage. It is a very big commitment!"

She nods. Before she can respond, though, the door to the library opens. Thor and Loki walk in. I smile and we stand to greet them. It isn't until Thor simply pats my shoulder and won't make eye contact that I realize that something is wrong. He goes straight to Sif, who gives him a confused look. He just puts one arm around her waist and starts to usher her around the room. She stops in front of me and we clasp arms, a Warrior's farewell, and then she keeps moving, leaving with Thor whispering in her ear.

I turn to Loki, seriously concerned now. I look at him and see that he has the same solemn look as his brother. Something is very, very wrong here.

"Noelle, love, I need you to sit down please."

I do as I am told and he sits beside me on the sofa, one hand on my back and the other on top of the hand resting on my leg. He explains to me that he had just been notified by Heimdall that I need to go see my mother right now. She is very ill and does not have much time.

The world goes black.

Loki POV:

I know that, from personal experience, there is nothing I can do to help her. And it burns me to know she is in pain. I escort her back to her chambers and watch her as she silently packs a bag. She will not meet my eyes. She will not speak. She only looks down, focusing on the task at hand.

She turns to the door and I stop her, my hands on her shoulders. "Noelle." She looks up at me.

I almost wish she hadn't.

The amount of pain and helplessness and grief in her eyes sends shocks of pain through my chest. "I am going with you." I state, not giving any room for argument. She simply nods and starts out the door. I follow.

By the time we are out of the Palace, she is all but running to the stables. I decide that only one horse will be necessary so I mount Tempest and lift her up in front of me. We gallop at full speed through the streets of Asgard, citizens having to jump out of the way to keep from getting trampled by my mountain of a horse. By the time we make it to the Bifrost and on the platform, Noelle's hand is holding my own.

Noelle POV:

We are transported to an empty alleyway beside a hospital. I go to the front desk and give my mother's name. The receptionist nods and waves a nurse over to escort us to her room. When we get there, the nurse turns and puts her hand up to stop us. "It is family only." Her eyes dart to Loki. She tells him that he may wait here or sit in the waiting room but I was not having that.

"He is family. This is my husband." The nurse looks at my left hand, which I had strategically placed on Loki's arm, showcasing a gold band that I had just manifested onto my finger. She nods and moves aside.

'I like ‘husband’, but I would pick a grander ring than just a band.' He tells me.

I take a deep breath and open the door.

"Hi, Momma."

My mother opens her eyes and looks over at me. She looks as though she has aged years. Her hair has gone thin and is greying in places, she is so thin that her skin seems to just be blanketing bones. But her eyes, while tired, are still hers, bright blue with green around the edges. She smiles when she sees me.

"Hi, Baby!" She reaches her arms out to me and I walk over to her, hugging her loosely, afraid to break her.

She looks over my shoulder and sees Loki.

"Hello, Loki." She says with a smile.

"Hello, Lady Beth." He says politely with a bow of his head.

I don't know how long I sat with her, but I do know that I ended up laying in the bed with her and Loki in a chair in the corner. I also know that at some point, she looked at me and asked me to sing to her. I smile and start to think of a song to sing.

"The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping I dreamed I held you in my arms" I tighten my hold on her. "But when I awoke, dear, I was mistaken; And I hung my head and I cried; You are my sunshine, my only sunshine; You make me happy when skies are grey; You'll never know, dear, how much I love you; Please don't take my sunshine away" my voice cracks but I push through it. "I'll always love you and make you happy; If you will only say the same; But if you leave me to love another; You'll regret it all some day; You are my sunshine, my only sunshine; You make me happy when skies are grey; You'll never know, dear, how much I love you; Please don't take my sunshine away" I try not to think about a world without my momma in it because I know it's close and I do not want to cry in front of her. "You told me once, dear, you really loved me; And no one else could come between;But now you've left me and love another; You have shattered all my dreams; You are my sunshine, my only sunshine; You make me happy when skies are grey; You'll never know dear, how much I love you; Please don't take my sunshine away."

She smiles and claps when I finish. She used to sing that to me when I was sad or sick. It made sense to complete the circle.

"Will you sing another for me, baby girl? Your voice calms me."

"I understand the feeling." Loki says from where he is sitting with a book in his lap. He must have stopped to listen to me.

I smile and start a new song. This time it's sadder but I think it fits the situation.

"The buttons of my coat were tangled in my hair; In doctor's-office-lighting, I didn't tell you I was scared," ain't that the truth, "That was the first time we were there; Holy orange bottles, each night I pray to you; Desperate people find faith, so now I pray to Jesus too

And I say to you; Ooh-ah, soon you'll get better; Ooh-ah, soon you'll get better; Ooh-ah, you'll get better soon; 'Cause you have to," I look up to see her eyes closed, but she is smiling. The steady rhythm of the heart monitor comforts me. "I know delusion when I see it in the mirror; You like the nicer nurses, you make the best of a bad deal; I just pretend it isn't real," my voice cracks again and I let a few tears fall. "I'll paint the kitchen neon, I'll brighten up the sky; I know I'll never get it there's not a day that I won't try; And I'll say to you; Ooh-ah, soon you'll get better; Ooh-ah, soon you'll get better; Ooh-ah, you'll get better soon; 'Cause you have to," I lean my head down on her shoulder, the way I did as a child,"And I hate to make this all about me; But who am I supposed to talk to?; What am I supposed to do

If there's no you?" I shut my eyes, praying that this is all in my head. "This won't go back to normal, if it ever was; It's been years of hoping, and I keep saying it because; 'Cause I have to," the tears are flowing freely now. "Ooh-ah, you'll get better; Ooh-ah, soon you'll get better; Ooh-ah, you'll get better soon

Ooh-ah, soon you'll get better; Ooh-ah, soon you'll get better; Ooh-ah, you'll get better soon

'Cause you have to."

I feel her shoulders stop moving. It doesn't register until I hear the heart monitor flatline. I start to really cry. I beg her not to leave me, tell her that I love her. I grip her tightly, hoping that maybe this is a nightmare that I'm about to wake up from. I feel Loki's hands on my arms and let him pry me away from my momma. My momma. My momma.

He turns me away from the bed and pulls me into his chest. He keeps a hand on the back of my head so that I can't move to see anything. He rests his chin on top of my head whispering to me, though I can't hear a word he says. He eventually moves us both out of the room, I assume on a doctor's request so they can do their job. We stand in the hallway the way we were in the room: his back to the wall, one arm around my waist, the other stroking my hair. My face is buried in his chest, hands gripping the front of his shirt. I am sobbing. I hear Loki talking to someone and then hear someone collapse from behind me. I take a deep breath and pull away from his chest.

I turn around to see a weeping James sitting on the floor. I move to where he sits with his back to the wall and wrap my arms around his shoulders. He buries his face in my shoulder, crying. "She loved you so much, James." I whisper to him.

"She never loved anyone the way she loved you, Noelle." We sit like this for a while. We comfort each other. My mother’s boyfriend and I, basically strangers, mourn the same wonderful woman on the floor of the hall in a hospital.

Eventually, James pulls himself together enough to go speak to someone about funeral arrangements. I am not so lucky. I'm not crying anymore but I can barely stand. Loki wraps one arm around my waist and helps me walk out of the hospital. We go back to the alley we started in, from there he transports us to my mom's apartment. Specifically my room.

I collapse.

[ryqoshay]

How to Handle a Nico: Of Fruits and Photoshoots

Primary Pairing: NicoMaki Words: ~1.8k Rating: G Time Frame: Later in Maki’s 1st and Nico’s 3rd year of high school Story Arc: Stand Alone

Authors Note: Thank you to those who offered ideas for possible locations for the background scenery of the second NicoMaki UR pair in SIF.

I will post the pic at the end for those who need a refresher on its appearance, and because I adore it and look forward to their release to WW.

“How about these?” Nico help up a handful of rhinestones. “Maybe make a hair clip out of them or something?”

“The rubies certainly match your eyes.” Eli approved as she continued to work on another accessory. “And pearls would stand out well in your hair.”

“I meant for her.” The raven-haired girl clarified.

“Then the pearls are definitely a decent choice for accents.” The blonde nodded. “Otherwise, on their own, the rubies might get lost in her hair.”

“Yeah, that too. And I was also thinking about using these for me.” Nico indicated a pair of red ribbons with thin white stripes.

“Ah, I see.” Eli nodded. “A good match.”

“Think she’ll notice?”

“Do you want her to?”

“And so what if I do?” Nico scrunched her nose at the unexpected return question. “Anyway, red and white works for her strawberry theme.” She began attaching the faux gems to a clip. “And my watermelon theme as well.”

“Shouldn’t it be red and green for you? Or red and black if you went with the seeds?”

“The rind is white.”

“I suppose.”

“Though I was kinda hoping I could find some diamonds…” Nico admitted before thinking better of it.

“Didn’t we just have a birthstone set?”

“Yeah, but… oh, never mind.”

Eli rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the accessory in her hand.

Nico knew Eli saw straight through her, but she wasn’t going to admit it out loud. So what if she wanted to have a few accessories match with Maki? It wasn’t the first time they had similar things on their outfits and probably wouldn’t be the last… hopefully. Besides, it wasn’t like the younger girl would notice anyway, so what harm would it do? It was just a little something that made Nico happy, and that alone was worth it. And if Maki did happen to notice, then all the better.

“So, what do you think?” Eli spoke up after a moment.

Nico blinked back to reality to inspect the item in the blonde’s hand.

“Nozomi will love it.”

“It’s not for…”

“I know.” Nico interrupted. “But red is a good color for you, especially in your hair. And Nozomi will love it. And will undoubtedly comment on it.” She smirked. “Probably lewdly.”

“Nico…”

“Turnabout is fair play.” The raven-haired girl stuck out her tongue.

The blonde pouted, earning a laugh from the other girl. But after a moment of getting past her embarrassment, she joined in with a chuckle of her own.

Under different circumstances, Nico might have used an overdramatic display of disgust when it came to the topic of her fellow third-years and their public flirtations. It was an act the three of them knew she used to deal with her jealousy over what Eli and Nozomi had together; what Nico wished she had with the girl she liked.

But today she was in higher spirits. Today, she and Eli were preparing accessories for an upcoming photoshoot that included a set for which Nico had been matched with Maki as the focus pair. It wasn’t summer yet, but the set’s theme was something about vacations, swimsuits and fruit. Each girl had chosen or been assigned a fruit and would wear two outfits designed with it in mind.

Maki ended up with a strawberry theme. Granted, the redhead often found herself in hues reminiscent of her hair, but she always looked good in them, which probably lent to the repetition. And Nico was excited to see the results, as well as show off her own.

“That should be long enough for it to set.” Nico thought out loud about the adhesive she had applied to hold the gems to the clip. “Who’s next?”

“Ma~ki-cha~n!”

The redhead turned toward the voice calling her from behind. “Nico-chan.” She greeted with a nod.

The raven-haired girl running up to her was dressed in a watermelon themed outfit with green overall shorts covering a white shirt with green stripes. It wasn’t the overly stylized version for this part of the photoshoot, but the pastel shades offered an adorable softness that was well suited to the image Nico always tried to portray. And of course, no outfit the girl wore was complete without pink, so ruffles on the sleeve and collar of the shirt filled that role. Maki allowed herself a moment to take in the view as Nico closed the distance between them.

Even if Maki had wanted to, she would have been hard pressed in denying that Nico looked incredibly cute right now. Not that she wanted to deny it anyway. Probably. But it did bother her how cute Nico could be at times. Like now. Maybe.

“There’s one more thing before we begin!” The third-year held out something that glittered in the stray light from the nearby set.

“Hair clips?” The first year inquired on recognition.

“Yup!” Nico chirped before reaching up. “Hold still a sec.”

“Did you just find these or…?”

“Nope. Nico made these just for Maki-chan.”

“Then why not hand them out with all of the rest?”

“Didn’t you hear me?” Nico furrowed her eyebrows. “Nico made these just for Maki-chan. So she wanted to give them to Maki-chan personally. Got a problem with that?”

“N-no… uhm… Th-thank you?”

“And there we go.” Nico grinned as she stepped back to admire her handiwork. After a moment, she turned to the photographer’s assistant. “You guys have a mirror?”

“Oh, yes.” The young man replied before moving to a nearby counter to retrieve the requested item. “Here.”

“Take a look, Maki-chan.” Nico held the mirror up.

“They are quite pretty.” Maki reached up to touch the clips in her hair.

Was it her imagination, or did the clips kind of match the striped bows in Nico’s hair? Maybe? Even if not, Maki decided she preferred to consider it a match because it made her feel good, for some reason.

“I know, right?” The older girl interrupted her thoughts. “Nico knows her accessories.”

“Thank you, Nico-chan.” The younger girl’s thanks was more sincere than the one she had given prior.

“You two ready?” The photographer suddenly asked.

“Yeah, sorry.” Nico replied. “Be right there.”

The two girls made their way onto the set. In front of the greenscreen they found a couple classic poolside style chaise lounge chairs and a few small side tables. Off to the side, on a counter, was a decent selection of props from which they could choose.

“This set is nice.” Maki commented, touching a tray on which sat a glass tea set filled with a red liquid.

“Of course Maki-chan goes for the red things.”

“Well, my fruit is a strawberry…”

“True, but you often choose red things.”

“I like red…”

“So you like your cheeks then.”

Maki pouted, earning a laugh from the other girl.

“And I suppose it’s a good thing Nico’s eyes are red!”

It took a moment for the implication to click in Maki’s mind, but once it did, she balked. “Buweehh?” She turned to find an amused glimmer in said eyes accompanied by a toothy grin, the combination of which made it difficult to get upset.

“Anyway, Nico is going to use this.”

The twin-tailed girl grabbed a plate of what looked like cake with decorative icing and two scoops of sherbet.

“Alright.” The photographer spoke again. “If you could each choose a seat, we can get started.” She motioned to the chairs.

Maki did as instructed and leaned back onto the plastic slats. “You know… kyaa!” She cried in surprise as her ankles were suddenly grabbed. “Nico-chan?”

“I think this will work better for the shot.” The older girl replied, moving Maki’s legs off the side. “How is this?” She asked the photographer as she knelt where the younger girl’s feet had been a moment ago.

“That will work just fine.” The woman responded, giving an affirmative gesture.

“So you’re not going to need this?” The assistant asked, moving to the empty chair.

“Nah, I’d rather be here, closer to Maki-chan.” Nico replied, grinning at the blushing redhead and scooting in a few centimeters more.

The young man nodded and removed the unneeded prop.

“So, you were saying?” The raven-haired girl prompted, lifting the fork in her hand as though to take a bite of the fake cake.

“Oh, right, uhm…” Maki scrambled to recover her derailed train of thought. “I was going to say that the décor reminds me of the place in Demark.”

“Copenhagen, yes, I can see that.” The photographer stated. “The background we are using could be seen as reminiscent of the buildings around the canals of Nyhavn. But I don’t believe there are palm trees in Denmark.”

“Not along the canals, no.” Maki agreed. “But I do remember seeing some last time we were there… maybe in the botanical gardens?”

“Maybe.”

“Then is the background of the painted ladies in San Francisco? They have palm trees there.”

“I’d have to double check the file, but I thought it said it was shot in the Canary Islands? I could be wrong.”

“Maybe Northern Ireland? Spain?”

“Whitehead and Vilajoyosa? I don’t think either was it.” The photographer shook her head. “I can check for sure while you two change for the next part of the set.”

“Alright.” Maki agreed before shifting her gaze to find Nico staring at her. “What…?”

“Does Maki-chan have a vacation house in all of those places.”

“No, but I’ve visited most of them.”

“Hrmph…” Nico huffed. “Must be nice; traveling the world all the time.”

“Not always.” Maki admitted. “A lot of it was for business, so my parents would be busy the whole day. And since I was too young to go anywhere on my own, I would just spend the day reading at the hotel.”

“And the place in Denmark?”

Maki realized she could detect a bit of jealousy in the older girl’s voice. “It’s not ours.” She clarified, shaking her head. “One of our old doctors moved to Europe after he retired. He lets us use that place when we want.”

“Must be nice.” Nico repeated.

The jealousy wasn’t going away. What to say? Uhm… “It is a lovely city.” No, that didn’t seem like something that would diffuse the situation.

“Then if Nico becomes a famous idol,” Nico suddenly preened “she’s going to have to get her own place in Copenhagen. And the Canary Islands. And San Francisco. And maybe a few other places Maki-chan hasn’t even been yet.”

“You mean when you become a famous idol.”

“Right, that’s what I said.”

“I’d like to see it.”

“Hrm?”

“Your place.” Maki found herself getting a little excited. Not only had Nico’s mood improved somewhat, but the idea of taking a trip with her was surprisingly appealing. “Or places, any of them, really, when you get them.”

“Of course!” Nico raised an eyebrow. “Someone like Maki-chan would be welcome anytime. Nico thought that much would be obvious.”

“I’ll hold you to it then.” Maki lifted her cup as though to propose a toast, despite the other girl lacking a beverage of her own, fake or otherwise.

“And I think that’s the shot right there.” The photographer spoke up again. “But let’s take a few more to be sure.”

The two girls gave their affirmation and the photoshoot continued.

UR Pair Referenced:

Author’s Note Continued in Followup Post

[mystarsforanempire]

loki in therapy: letter to fandral

Tagging @thedashingone for reasons.

Context: Loki goes to his first therapy session. He talks about his relationships with each of the Warriors Three, and especially talks about Fandral. He talks about how cruel Fandral could be with him, and this exchange happens:

“And – forgive me if I’ve missed something – how did you know this was done with your pain in mind?” Loki blinks, staring down at the knotted string between his hands.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it seems like this fellow, Fandral… You’re saying he flirted with you; that you found him handsome. What makes you think he did this out of some desire to hurt you, as opposed to a desire for you?” Loki is suddenly very aware of the weight of his own tongue in his dry mouth, pressed against the back of his teeth. He thinks of Fandral’s easy smiles, the way he would playfully shove Loki in the side after a battle, thinks of Fandral’s fingers cupping his cheek as he pins Loki against a corridor wall.

“I was his good friend’s younger brother,” Loki murmurs. “I was to him as forbidden fruit. As we each grew older, he ceased his teasing, for I was more confident in refusing his attentions, not falling prey to his japes, and once I was a widower, I’m sure I was less attractive to him. But even then, he would never allow for my solitude. He would constantly draw me into conversations when our band was riding out, forcing me into the spotlight. He would mockingly praise my attributes, or play as my defender when the others spurned me.”

“You mean, he would strive to include you in conversations,” Sven says, not unkindly, “and that he would stand against his friends when they were cruel to you?” Loki feels a sickness make itself known in his stomach, and he stares down at the wood-panelled floor of Sven’s cabin. “Is it so unlikely this young man was just trying to be kind to you? That he genuinely enjoyed, and desired your company?”

So then! Loki sits down to write down his feelings, and he writes a letter to Fandral. Because his entire worldview re: Fandral has kinda just been shattered. 

                                                                             ---

To Fandral the Dashing,

I put pen to paper with great trepidation. Long has it been since we spoke face to face, and longer still since we had a conversation that lasted more than five minutes, and yet I find myself compelled to pen this epistle and send it on to you. I would assure you, forthwith, that I am both hale and hearty in my place upon Asgard. With the greatest of hospitality am I hosted amongst these Avengers, strange bedfellows though they might be for a villain such as I, and I write to you not to beg of you to engender some manner in which to release me, nor to manipulate you into taking some tack against Thor, as I have beseeched you in the past.

Nay, I write without especial intention in mind, I confess. It must seem strange, that I, a man ever concerned with how he might polish his words and put them forth into the world, should find himself with so dumb a tongue, and yet here I stand, at a loss.

I write to ask of you a question. No, that seems so simplistic – I write to you for much more than that, and yet, much less. I hold no illusions, Fandral: I do not believe you owe me aught, and if you see fit to burn this missive upon reading it, I shall not blame you.

First and foremost, I believe I owe you to apology. When I took on the throne after Odin fell into the Odinsleep, with Thor still stranded upon Midgard, I was wrong to be so angry, that you, Sif, Volstagg and Hogun should want to rescue Thor from his prison upon the planet; I was wrong to treat you so callously; I was wrong to send the Destroyer down toward you. All of this, I know, and I regret. I would not insult you with some explanation of what feelings prompted the outburst, for they are irrelevant – all that matters is that I know and understand why you might hate me, for what I did, and that I would offer you whatever apology you see fit. If you would ask of me anything I might offer – be it explanation, be it some service, even some humiliation or punishment you would have me suffer, I will submit to it. You may feel free to open this offer to Volstagg, Hogun and even Sif, too, if you so wish it, but I would ask you – as a favour to myself, undeserving as I am – not reveal the latter contents of this missive.

I am embarrassed by them.

No. Embarrassment is too simple a word, and yet as I write upon this page, the nib of my Midgardian page cutting the clean lines of script upon the parchment, I feel as if mere words will never be sufficient to explain the depth of feeling within me, the great well upon which I draw.

You may think me foolish, I think, in what I am about to say. You might be offended, or angry, or worse, you may find yourself laughing at the obscenity of my blossoming delusion. I know not!

I wish I might meet you, face-to-face, but I feel assuredly I would become tongue-tied, as so often I became when we were alone together. Is it not strange, Fandral, that we can have so certain and so well-established an idea of the self we occupy, and yet be so different in the eyes of those that meet us?

Often, I wept as a child, for I was not viewed as that which I sought to be. I did not measure to Odin’s expectations, nor to Thor’s, nor even to Mother’s, at times; try as I might, I felt I could never be that which Asgard wanted to be, and even when I tried…

But no. I am writing upon the page such nonsenses that I might procrastinate the truth I have so steeled myself to ask of you.

Fandral the Dashing, son of Alvis and Helena, I ask you simply, and I ask you plain: would you have considered us friends, before my betrayal? Is that how you envisaged our connection to one another?

Such stark words on so pale a page. So damning. I ask you not out of some insecurity, merely— Look at my writings, Norns, this is more of a stream of consciousness than a letter, and yet I know I could not bear to redraft it. Undoubtedly, I would become a coward, and I would burn the papers entirely.

For so long, Fandral, I have lived under the impression that you thought me nothing more than the ugly thing at my brother’s side, the wolf snapping at your heels. For centuries, end-to-end, I have believed that each of the kindnesses you ever offered me were little more than attempts to mock me, of which I could not fathom the joke; for millennia I have scorned your compliments as little more than japes and jests, intended to lull me into false security. I have called you a fop and a wastrel, a slattern and a dog; I have slapped away the hands that so gently touched my shoulder when I found myself upset; I have insulted you, and humiliated you, and treated you with such fury, and yet…

This week, I found myself speaking with a fellow, of you. I told him of how cruelly you had treated me, in the past, how unkindly you viewed my company, and he held up a mirror to your treatment of me.

For all I described the cruel things you did to me, he read them back to me in a different tone. Where I saw only unpleasantness, and sadism, he echoed my words and said he espied only kindness on your part.

What am I to do? I feel as if my very heart has been cleaved open, and so here bleeds my heartblood upon the page, as ink.

Fandral, I beseech you. Confirm or deny that which I say.

For all these years, have I truly so mistreated the only man who thought himself my friend? Have I misjudged you so? If that be the case, why, I don’t know how I might even begin to beg of your forgiveness. I think of times we have spent together, and short laughs exchanged in tense moments. I think of the times you would walk with me in Iðunn’s orchard, telling me filthy jokes I determined not to laugh at, and always did, in the end. I think of waking from some battle with you at my sickbed, and my venomous tongue spitting insults at you until you left me to the solitude of my infirmary. So memories brim in my eyes like unshed tears, and I wonder if I have truly misjudged you for so very long.

If that is true… I can give you nothing. I can do nothing to mend my behaviours. I can assure you of nothing except that I shall never do so again, for I am no longer of Asgard. If we were truly friends in your mind, Fandral, then I offer you my deepest apologies. I never deserved you.

And if I am wrong, if my fellow was wrong, if you truly meant to be cruel to me in all those encounters, why, nothing needs to change. You can go on hating me, and I shall go on knowing you are probably right to.

Fandral… Ever did I feel trapped upon Asgard, as a bird within a cage, surrounded by those that would mock its feathers and the cut of its beak, threaten to devour it whole. When I fled, when I would wander off to places unknown to Asgard, I did so with the knowledge that I would one day have to return, and so that day would come.

But when I spent time with you? Whether you thought of me as friend or enemy, Fandral, when we spent time together, Asgard felt less small. You made it feel bigger, more adventurous, less cloying. Whether you thought of me your friend or not, as your rival, your enemy, I would have you know that. Know that for all I tried to hate you, I found affection for you all the same.

(And you are charming. You know that, of course, but… Even I found you so. And if you truly wished to seduce me, all those times, know that I didn’t refuse you out of cruelty. I merely didn’t understand the veracity of your desires. Were things different-- But I speak of times long past. Fires long doused, I’m certain.)

And here I find I must end my ramblings. I ought not send this letter, I know as I finish it, and yet… And yet I feel that I must. It is the first step on the road of a difficult journey.

With all the respect I can muster, Fandral, From a man who would be your friend, Loki, son of Böl.

[alargebear]

Episode 5 Ramblings

Another week, and another post. Not much to preface this one with, but as always feel free to yell at me if I got something wrong, or you just want to talk about something I may have overlooked. Let’s jump into an episode that I think will make some people very happy.

What’s there to say? This was the Yoshiko and Riko episode that I’m honestly shocked we even got. I thought their relationship would be something relegated to the SIDs and SIF, but to see it animated, and get an entire episode dedicated to it, was a very pleasant surprise I’m sure for many people. It’s always nice to see different meaningful interactions like these between characters you wouldn’t expect to see it from, and that forms the basis of this episode.

This gets brought up at the end of the episode, but throughout the entire thing, Yoshiko’s bad luck is on full display. Always getting caught out in the rain, her umbrella getting blown away, finding a dog that she loves but can’t even keep, and a string of trips and falls. It’s a run of rotten luck, and Yoshiko never complains or hides from it. These things that were littered through the episode help wrap that final message in a nice way. Things don’t ever come easy for the great fallen angel, and she understands that. And as we’ll get to later, it helps form a surprising emotional basis for her character.

Riko still has a rough time with dogs, and that’s an issue that helps propel the episode forward. Shiitake is still her biggest nemesis, despite valiant attempts to get over her fears. It’s fun seeing You be so calm and reassuring to a scared but honestly trying Riko, attempting to coax her closer and closer to pet the dog. While Chika went around it in a very direct way, pulling her over and putting Riko right up next to Shiitake. It’s a nice way of showing the second-year dynamic a bit, but neither of them works. Riko’s fears are too strong and win out in the end.

Yoshiko’s bad luck can lead to some rather nice things, and one blown away umbrella brought on a ‘destined’ encounter with an adorable little pup. She does her best to take care of it despite not being able to bring it home. Being one of, if not the biggest, goofs in the entire group, Yoshiko gets to show off her caring and reliable side which we’ve never seen before. It’s nice, and Riko being the one to play her foil through most of the episode was a great change in dynamic.

I’ve gotta say, Yoshiko and Riko play off of each other incredibly well. This episode wasn’t just Riko being strict and stern with a big-time chuuni like Yohane. It was Riko being scared of the dog, and Yoshiko trying to help her deal with that, admittedly in a very Yoshiko-like way. It was Yoshiko connecting and finding common ground with someone, which we really haven’t seen much of. It was Riko being as much of a goober as Yoshiko can be at times, especially after they’d given the dog back. Sure, Riko was more often than not the voice of reason and calm, but it was never born in anything but a genuine care and connection with Yoshiko. There was never a moment in this episode where I thought their interactions were fake or odd. We got to see these two break out of their molds just a bit, and I’m not sure if that would have ever happened for either of them without the other.

We do get a bit of the foreshadowing in the middle of the episode. Kanan’s just gotta angst I guess. It’s just in her blood or something. It is an interesting problem. What kind of theme does Aqours run with? Radiance and shining bright can only go so far, and Kanan very much recognizes that (Chika and Dia seem to hint at it as well).  She hid her dance routine ideas from Chika, who seems to definitely notice something's off.  It’s a small little scene, but it could have pretty big implications moving forward. I will say that I think this has the possibility of playing out very well if done right. Play on Kanan’s angsting from last season to build on established expectations, but solve in a unique and surprising way. We'll have to see next episode.

We get growth from both Riko and Yoshiko. Riko’s comes to be more comfortable around dogs but also was able to be an emotional support that would have been impossible if this were season one Riko. Her talk with Yoshiko as they staked out to see their pup was very Chika-like, in all honesty. It mirrored so much of the way Chika went about pulling Riko out of her darker moments, and I’m not sure if it was intentional or not, but the wording was all so similar to meaningful conversations we’ve seen with Chika. It carries a bit of extra weight because we know where Riko was mentally in the first season, and it wasn’t good at all. So for her to be able to say things like that, and for them to be as believable as they were, is a testament to just how far Riko’s come. I know she’s gotten a lot of the spotlight over both seasons, but her character growth really is some of the best we’ve seen in the franchise period, and I really don’t think that can be understated. It’s not just big moments and flashy monologues where we see Riko’s growth. It’s in her day-to-day interactions and ability to reach out in a way that was impossible before.

Tieing into Riko’s growth, we get Yoshiko finding someone she feels comfortable opening up to. Their mutual care for the dog is the catalyst that allows us to see a side to Yoshiko we only could guess about before. She’s so frank about everything. The fallen angel thing is all an act, and she isn’t under any illusion otherwise. It’s something that was born out of her terrible luck which was on full display earlier in the episode and allowed her to find something positive out of it all. Her belief in fate and that everything happens for a reason allows her to make the best of all the terrible things she goes through. It’s a defense against forces she can’t control and allows her to be happy despite it all. Honestly, it’s an explanation I never expected, but carried so much weight when she opened up to Riko in the way she did after all the lighthearted antics earlier. An honestly very touching moment that tied together so perfectly with Riko’s last bits of encouragement, and that incredibly sweet ‘Yohane-chan’ at the end. She’s really just a girl dealt a bad hand trying to make the best of it. That’s all.

I’m not sure there is much more to say. I smiled a bunch, I teared up towards the end, and I’m still eagerly awaiting next Saturday. It seems to be the routine after each episode of this season so far, and I don’t think I could ask for more.  

Some final thoughts. Riko got her major interactions outside of You and Chika which is something people have been clamoring for (Though we did see a bit in the first half of the first season when it was just first and second years.). Also, it wasn’t just anyone, it was Yoshiko. We finally learned what all this fallen angel stuff meant to Yoshiko, and to be honest, it really wasn’t what I was expecting, but in a very good way. The comedy is still quite good, Mari’s English still gets to me each and every time, and boy do I really want a full version of that Saint Snow song.

Next week looks to be pretty heavy, and I can’t wait.

[dentelle-grise]

Your Latest Trick

(Loki x Reader NSFW) Long after everyone has stopped talking about Loki and his misdemeanors, his failed attempt to take over Midgard and his punishment, you meet him at a party.

All chapters to date at AO3 (47K, NC-17) Tagging: @frenchfrostpudding​

Chapter 19:  He makes a little sound, not a word, nor a sigh, just a tiny hum that tells you ‘yes’. You want to hear it again, coax as many non words from him as you can, because there was no pretense or calculation in it, just an honest expression of contentment. You so like getting under his skin. You want to live there.

“So… Who is he?” Asta has that smile of complicity and squeezes you by the arm.

You’d been staring out the window of the crowded tea shop into the square beyond, vaguely watching passers by and imagining Loki here with you, in the daytime. You haven’t seen him in the light of day since he left for Svartalfheim with Thor. How much you want to see him under the autumn sky. Her words fall like a bolt from the blue.

“What?”

“Who is he?” She repeats with a wink.

Beside her, Dagny laughs. “You’re so obvious. Stop being so mysterious. We want all the juicy details.”

“Most of the day you’re half in a dream if not actually asleep, and you don’t want to party anymore, like ever.” Asta starts nodding knowingly and your heart drops. ”I say she’s found someone.”

You don’t know what to say. How can you explain it without revealing too much and without lying to your friends?

“She’s never so coy. It must be serious.” Dagny says to Asta and they both move in on you slightly. You sense that several other groups of people around you are also surreptitiously listening in on the scene and feel yourself blushing.

“What’s his name?”

“Oh.” you say and don’t get any further. If you could only share their excitement and tell.

“Oh my. He hasn’t told her.” whispers Dagny so loud it’s no secret to anyone in the room.

“Will you both just stop. It’s like, new.” Well yes it is, but then it isn’t. Even saying that gives you a twinge of guilt. It would utterly rock their world if they knew.

“You seem completely knocked sideways by something. Worse than after the air-raid.”

“Why can’t you tell us about him?”

“Why haven’t we seen him yet?”

Why indeed. Keeping the secret is so hard and there’s the temptation to give them the shock they deserve after them needling you so. But you can’t, you have to protect him. You’ve got to say something though.

“I can’t tell you. He’s, a kind of a…” you drop your voice “ a secret agent.”

They both gasp so loud you must now be the center of attention of the whole room. Asta goes all serious-faced and looks impressed.

“That’s why he’s never around.” You continue, careful to avoid their gazes.

But then Dagny says, just as serious, and lightly touching your hand. “You’re sure. I mean it’s not just him saying that and that he’s married?”

“Oh don’t throw cold water.” says Asta.

“I just want to make sure she doesn’t get hurt. After all…” Dagny says, her eyes so full of concern that you feel terrible not to confide. “You’re one of the most trusting souls I know.”

“Now that’s true.” says Asta.

“How else could you have dated Fandral so long.” Dagny goes on.

“But he’s not like Fandral.”

“Remember that time you thought Fandral was combing Yggdrasil for a special gift for you?” Dagny says and Asta throws her a look to make her stop, but she doesn’t notice. “And he was combing Yggdrasil, except it was for-” Asta grabs her friend, halting Dagny mid-sentence. If she was concerned you were upset, her fears are unwarranted. The two of them are so funny and you love them and you only wish all the more you could tell them the truth.

Dagny smiles at you and, getting her second wind, and says “What I mean is this is the woman who let Loki braid her hair.”

You stop dead, not at the mention of his name but at the buried memory that surfaces and slaps you in the face, one that got skipped over last night - most conveniently - by both you and Loki. Something that hardly fits with his confessions of distant admiration.

If something shows on your face, perhaps the girls think it’s grief. You don’t reply. Perhaps you’ve already revealed yourself without a word. You can’t tell. You’re too busy wondering if you’ve been way too trusting of Loki and his spellbinding words.

    It had been an autumn day, bright like today, but warmer – just enough of an edge of cold to appreciate the spots of sun when they appeared, and revel in them.

You had been sitting in the gardens braiding Sif’s hair when Thor appeared and admired your work. Sif in turn offered to braid his and he accepted, sitting down in front of her so the three of you were there in a row.

Then Loki came by. Now, his hair wasn’t long enough to be braided, but instead, clearly keen to join in, he offered to braid yours.

It was that time when you were rather distant with Loki, but you could hardly refuse and it might help to show there were no hard feelings about the cake incident.

He was gentle, hardly pulling at all, but you could feel him weaving and braiding, doing something intricate. In fact, you were mostly concentrated on your own work. Plaits of plaits and ornate knots in Sif’s hair, something it was perfect for and she so rarely bothered with. You felt privileged. The sun made her brown locks shine copper where you’d twisted them.

So you didn’t pay attention to what Loki was doing, and if it wasn’t for the need to keep your head straight, you’d almost have forgotten he was there. You were attaching Sif’s hair with pins and ties and she as doing the same for Thor. The basket of ties got passed to and fro, though Loki hardly asked for it at all.

You and Sif finished braiding about the same time and Thor was so admirative of Sif’s hair and Sif so pleased with what she’d done for Thor that they dashed off together to look at their reflections in the water of a pond some way away, forgetting about you and Loki.

“Its almost done,” Loki said. “It just needs a little more magic to hold it in place”.

Magic? You could’t see it yet so you went to touch the side of your head where he’s finished - “No, no, don’t touch it.” he warned.

“I’ll look at it properly in the mirror inside.” you said. So you started walking home, Loki silent beside you. It was only when you passed though a busier area that you noticed people staring. And what with Loki looking so smug about something, you supposed that they must be impressed.

Then, coming down the street toward you you spotted Dagny. You couldn’t help but want to show off, even though you hadn’t seen the finished work yourself yet.

“Look at my hair, Look. Loki did it.” And you turned around to show her.

Dagny started screaming before you completed your turn and you whipped around to see her wide-eyed and open-mouthed. You raised a hand to your head.

“No!” Her mouth mimed silently. but you’d already started to touch your hair. Among the braids something moved, something warm and smooth.

“No.” Loki said. “Don’t do that. “You’ll wake them.”

“Them?”

Now you could feel your hair moving its own accord, every strand rising up and flexing. You looked around desperately. There was a wall behind you and, in the weak sun, you saw your shadow. It wasn’t as good as a refection, but it didn’t need to be. Your hair had taken on a life of it’s own and was writhing like so many snakes.

You heard more screams and a passer-by dropped the barrow he was pushing. People all around were pointing and staring. A couple of small children just stood there giggling. And Dagny, who had recovered herself, grabbed Loki by his hair.

“You did that and she didn’t even know. How could you, you miserable wretch.” she shouted.

“It was just to keep it in place, they hold each other’s tails it their mouths - much better than ribbons.” He glanced at you a little unsettled. “In theory…” Dagny gave his his hair a vicious wrench.

“Change it back.”

“But.”

“You put it back now.”

Loki gave a simple hand wave as though shooing someone away and the shadow on the wall calmed instantly to your familiar, if disheveled, outline.

“Wouldn’t you like me to do yours?” Loki asked Dagny, twisting in her hold. He could easily have overpowered her, or called for the guards to protect him, but no. He raised his hand at Dagny, grinning wickedly as she flinched. The moment she loosened her grip he was gone, diving through the crowd and into a side street. Dagny, her face livid, went to follow, but you knew she wouldn’t catch him, which was just as well. Who knows what stunt he might pull next?

So there you stood, doubtless a total mess, the crowd dispersing now the show was over. You put a hand to your head, reassured to feel just your usual hair, albeit in a terrible tangle.

“Let me brush it out my lady.” A smooth voice came from behind you.

You turned around and there was Fandral looking at you, smiling gently without mocking, apparently impressed at how you’d cooly you’d coped.

“That’s most kind of you to offer Fandral, but I think I would prefer to comb my hair myself for a while, Thank you.”

“Then let me at least walk you home.”

   How convenient that last night Loki had omitted the episode from his story, and you, so ready to see the best in him, had simply forgotten it. Since when does a boy turn your hair to snakes to show he likes you? It makes you wonder how much of the rest of what he said was true?

The familiar sounds of cups and spoons and conversation brings you back to the present. Asta and Dagny are both quiet and you struggle to say something to fill the silence.

 “Well Loki knows nothing about hair.” you say lightly before realizing you’ve used the present tense. You are really such a terrible liar. You try to distract them from your gaffe.

“He had good intentions I’m sure,” you conclude trying to hide your unease with a smile. Some at least had found it funny at the time.

You are saved from giving further explanations by your promise to the healers, but your friends resume their animated speculations even as you’re leaving.

    It’s getting harder to keep the secret. What if one day you simply decided not to? What would happen to Loki? You are going to have to talk to him, properly, preferably before he can beguile you again.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a boom in the distance and a cloud of black smoke taints the sky in the direction of the armoury. When you arrive in the healing rooms your fears are confirmed.

Your mother is there, unharmed but anxious and there’s her assistant from yesterday bent double around a wound to the belly and cursing at high volume his own language.

It’s the most action there’s been here in weeks and he has full attention of the team.

“We can’t control it,” are the first of his words you understand, as four of the healers pull him straight and Madame Eir examines his injuries.

“She’s going to get us all killed.” He sighs. And you know he means your mother, who is still there, pacing uselessly.

Its unclear what they were trying to do, but someone or something took a large bite out of Hornace.

Your mother is visibly overwrought until Madame Eir reassures her that he will recover, then her demeanor returns to simply pinched and worried.

“I want to go home.” Hornace says, reassuringly lucid, once the healers have worked to dull the pain. He’s nothing to say to your mother and you never learn how the accident happened. She only leaves once he’s fallen asleep.

Clearly she has worse preoccupations than your love life, but that doesn’t reassure you at all.

What if the Aether can’t be tamed?

      It’s late as you climb the stairs to your rooms. There are a dozen heavy thoughts trailing after you from the day, but you’re also buoyed up with anticipation. You’re about to step into that other world where Loki is, where its just you and him.

What’s bad is that one of the heavy thoughts is the chance that Loki lied to you and it’s vying with a growing feeling that quite possibly, dreadfully, you don’t care. In that world on the other side of your door, what Loki says might as well be reality.

So tonight, will he draw you in? Make it all seem okay? Somehow make you believe that turning a girl’s hair into snakes is a sign of affection? The trouble is, you are starting to believe that it might be, as far as he’s concerned.

You pause before the door as a wave of apprehension? excitement? goes though you. But, once you’ve stepped through, you find there’s no one there.

You go round lighting the lamps one by one in each corner to try to chase away your unease, lighting the fire to chase away the chill.

If everything Loki said was one tall tale, it wouldn’t take away what you’ve shared. It wouldn’t take away what you feel either. You long for him like only he could bring the real light and warmth into this place, even though he brings so many complications too.

You sit on the settee and stare into the nothing of the night through the open curtains, wondering how you look from out there until you can bear it no longer and rise to close them. As you get up, Loki materializes right at your side. You don’t jump, but your heart begins to race. How long has he been there? He might have been waiting and watching you since you arrived. He might have just appeared from the other side of the universe. These things should matter, but you see how his face is drawn and when he takes you in his arms, you feel tension coursing through him. You cast your doubts aside and set about chasing his stress away.

“Come.” you say, as you take him by the hand. There is none of the usual undercurrent of foreplay when he looks at you, as though whatever upset him has taken him beyond that. You ask no questions. If his day has been anything like yours, then his tension is perfectly understandable.

You run a warm bath, while he undresses – slowly as though exhausted – without magic or flourish. The pendant, you notice, he does not remove. You slip into the water behind him and start to massage his back, working with slow, firm strokes until he gradually loosens up.

Neither of you say a word for a long time. There’s just the gentle sounds of the water. You’ve turned off the lights and simply lit a few candles. Finally, he relaxes into you fully. You can’t reach his back anymore and so just wrap your arms around him. He wriggles to get comfortable and you know you have only a short time before the water cools. So you savor the moments.

He makes a little sound, not a word, nor a sigh, just a tiny hum that tells you ‘yes’. You want to hear it again, coax as many non words from him as you can, because there was no pretense or calculation in it, just an honest expression of contentment. You so like getting under his skin. You want to live there.

    As you’re drying yourselves he’s calm and it seems a perfect moment to venture a question.

“Remember when you did my hair?“ Instantly, you wish you hadn’t said it. To your ears it sounded like an accusation. He’s facing away from you and you hold your breath, dreading his reaction.

 But then he turns and there’s that familiar smile - half mischief, half fascination, all promise - and says “Shall I do it again.”

 “No way.” you say, laughing nervously, your relief audible, and when he moves toward you, you flip your wet towel at him.

“Shall I? ” He takes another teasing step closer.

You flip the towel again like a whip so he grabs one too. And then you’re duelling, chasing each other around the room, laughing and trying to reach the other without being touched. Here you are again, just the two of you and the outside world fades away.

He stops, spins around, and catches the end if your towel in a lightning movement. Before you’ve the reflex to let go, he hauls you in.

He pulls a mocking pose like he’s about to cast a spell, but then he relaxes and says, “No, of course not. You’re beautiful as you are.”

You throw your arms around him and he picks you up and carries you to the warmth of the fireside. It’s warm enough this close to the fire not to miss your clothes. Besides, the rug is soft under your back, and he is covering you with his body.

“I think you did cast a spell on me.” you tease, but you’re thinking of his ability to make you forget the worst of him.

“Never.”

“Never? What. You know that’s not true.”

He pouts at your words, but he’s smiling too.

“The orange light.” you prompt. And merely saying it sets you quivering, you’re sure he can hear it in your voice. Did you make it sound like a demand. What if it was? What if he did that again? You swallow hard.

He gives you a wicked grin.

“That was no spell.”

You look at him sceptically.

“Well only a little one, enough to make pretty light, that’s all.” He’s playing with you, surely.

“And?” Your breathing’s gone heavy and your voice rough, You can’t help it and he must hear that. You can feel the pendant resting against your skin where he’s laying on you. Just thinking about that night has you jittery, hot and the best of the way to orgasm from the mere idea.

“In fact you might say it was more of a trick than a spell.” His smile softens, and he makes the word ‘trick’ sound like something intimate. “I just made some colored light. The rest, my dear, was you.”

You don’t know what to say, all this time you’d thought he’d controlled you, when all he’d done was ignite something that was already there. It takes a moment for your mind to catch up to it, but your body is already there. You want him to kiss you right now and much more besides, but he looks at you wistfully and adds.

“It worked far better than I could ever have expected.”

“But I thought…” you protest.

“You thought.” he repeats. “That I could and that I would.” Indeed you are sure of both. He swallows. “Your faith is heart-stopping.”

His eyes haven’t left yours a second throughout the exchange, but cloud a second with something you can’t name. “If someone cast a spell that night, it certainly wasn’t me.”

“I can’t do magic” you say.

“You’d be surprised.” he says and wets his lips.

From there everything happens very quickly. You are so close together and both so very ready. He touches his tongue to your nipple and you shriek and arch into him until he pushes you down. The floor is hard under the rug you welcome it and his own hardness.

He slides into you and you shudder with pleasure and grip him and moan until he does the same, holding you tightly and letting his head fall to your shoulder as you both find release a few instants later and he lays breathing you in long and hard.

Out of the corner of your eye you spy the pendant glowing orange, where it dangles, though whether it’s colored by your passion or just the firelight you wouldn’t know.

Silently you vow that as long as he keeps returning to you like this you wont ask him where he goes.

Chapter 20

[uru-viel]

Honey Badgers Eat Snakes Alive

A birthday gift for @neverending-shenanigans written by myself and @lucid-dreamer-dreams

The first time Darcy Lewis sees Steve Rogers is during the sorting ceremony. She doesn’t recall seeing him on the Hogwart’s train but then again she spent most of the time searching for Jane.

But there they were. New firsties anxiously awaiting to see what House they are to be in for the next 7 years. All hundred of them were neatly separated into two lines with two House tables on each side.

“What House you reckon you’ll be in?” Darcy clearly remembers hearing a smirking brunette ask.

Though she doesn’t recall to who.

“I’ll be in the hero’s house Gryffindor!”

The exchange in front of her goes silent after that declaration and the rest of the time is clapping and cheering for the newly sorted firsties.

Darcy anxiously looks for her cousin Jane whose Ravenclaw colors shine brightly. As she moves closer to the sorting hat, the panic rises in her. What if she isn’t smart enough to be in Ravenclaw like Jane? She’s definitely not brave enough to be in Gryffindor and definitely not sneaky for Slytherin.

“LEWIS, DARCY!”

Jane cheers the loudest when Darcy’s name is called and she stumbles up to the chair.

She gulps and ducks her head when the stern Professor Mcgonagall drops the sorting hat on her head.

Her glasses slide down her nose when the Sorting Hat speaks to her.

Well, well, well another Foster in Hogwarts.

“Actually, my dad’s a Lewis so I’m a Lewis.” Darcy says out loud.

You’re your own person I can see. You wish to be in the same house as your Jane correct?

“Duh.”

No. That wouldn’t do at all. You have intelligence but you don’t possess that drive to seek out knowledge regardless of any circumstance.

Darcy had to reluctantly agree with the Hat’s thought. She’s heard stories from Jane about the crazy antics in House Ravenclaw.

Apparently Tony Stark was infamous even amongst the muggles.

Nor do you have that need to prove yourself as a courageous hero. While being in the Gryffindor house would push you out of your comfort zone, you would be unhappy.

Yeah, no. She could only recall Thor’s crazy stories about the adventures he and Sif got into…when he wasn’t snogging her cousin.

Laughter bubbled inside her when she pictured herself with Thor’s body.

Perhaps Slytherin. The hat mused in her head.

Darcy looks at the snot nosed, sneering lot. They seemed happy enough to be with each other.

There is much you wish to accomplish. A career in politics? In that house you’d make all the connections needed for your goal. Although you lack the cunning ability that is nourished in that house.

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll work hard to achieve my goal. You better believe it!” Darcy clenches her fist as she proclaimed her declaration.

Unbeknownst to her, a blond boy looked up at her in admiration.

Hm, no. You do not have the cunning trait. Silvertongues and Lyesmiths dwell in Slytherin, while you are mostly blunt and honest.

Darcy thinks of Loki, the brother of Jane’s boyfriend Thor. He was a Slytherin. She shivers. No. She wasn’t a Silvertongue.

It’s possible with your work ethic to obtain these skills but unless you already have a kernel you’ll be left behind. In that house it is dangerous to do so. You are blunt and honest, caring when others are scathing. Maybe…. yes. It is definitely where you belong.

“Where?” Darcy asks. “Slytherin?”

The Sorting Hat chuckles. Then he shouts, “Hufflepuff.”

The fuck?

She can see Jane’s own surprise from her table. The student across from her is scowling from the water that was spat in his direction.

The Hufflepuff table cheers loudly. She smiles hesitantly when one of the older students walks close to her.

“C’mon lass Hufflepuff is waiting for you.” Darcy struggles not to blush at the handsome boy.

“Oi! Cedric stop flirting with the firstie!” One of the other Hufflepuff hollers out.

Cedric rolls his eyes but offers his hand to help Darcy down. “Ignore them. They get excited whenever we get a newbie.”

“So you do this for every first year?” Darcy asks.

Cedric raised a brow. “Another American? What are the odds of that. As for your question it’s tradition for the second years to bring the first years down to our tables. We know how frightening it can be to be in front of hundreds of people.”

Darcy almost runs off the stage with the Sorting hat were it not for Cedric’s quick thinking that tossed the hat back on the stool. She tosses a hesitant smile at her cousin as they pass by.

Jane smiles back at her.

Some of the Hufflepuff girls embrace her-which wow that wasn’t a thing she expected but what she totally needed- and a few of the guys squeeze her in half hugs. The warmth at being accepted had to be unique because she doesn’t remember her classmates being this kind in America. In fact, they could be downright cruel, labeling her as “other” without her even doing magic in front of people.

Darcy gasps in surprise when her robes and the rest of her uniform is bespelled to match the colors of her house, yellow and black with a badger on the crest.

“A proper badger.” Darcy nearly goes cross eyed when her nose is poked.

“Huh, didn’t exactly expect them to be so friendly.” The smirking brunet from earlier says.

Darcy was sort of embarrassed that she couldn’t recall his name. That was like Jane level of absentmindedness.

The boy raises a brow and offers a hand. “Name’s James Buchanan Barnes. Nice to meet ya.”

Darcy gratefully takes the hand. “Darcy Lewis.”

“I know, I think the whole table knows your name from the way they screeched out ‘We got Foster’s cousin!’.”

How embarrassing.

Awkward silence descends on them forcing Darcy to pay close attention to the last students to be sorted.

“ROGERS, STEVE!” The professor calls out from her scroll.

A skinny, worryingly so, blond boy clumsily goes up the stage.

Less than a minute goes by before the Sorting Hat bellows out

“SLYTHERIN!”

Beside her James pales rapidly. And Rogers looks in their direction with piercing blue eyes. ****** The years are kind to Hufflepuff house or at least that is what Darcy likes to think as they draw near to their seventh year.

In her not so humble opinion, most of her house grew up to be very attractive. Poor Cedric’s back was almost ramrod straight for two whole years as he drew more and more appreciative gazes upon his form.

The prefect always had volunteered partners for late night patrols from all houses. Astounding that all it took to unite the Hogwarts female and male population was bronze tousled hair and a pretty smile.

His death took such a toll on their house. The random students who came up to express their sorrows at his loss.

Cho Chang couldn’t even look at their house colors without bursting into tears.

Darcy prays to Morgana that the boy who helped her settle into Hogwarts found peace. She knows James feels the same.

Ah James.

James- Bucky as he was referred to by the blond snake- was a devil in wizard flesh. Thank Merlin contraceptive spells existed.

Darcy grew out of her awkward phase and turned into a very attractive girl. Her long dark hair tumbled from her shoulders and her body was quite curvaceous.

She stares in the mirror and twists herself side to side. And nearly pouts when she sees how her skirt lifts up. Darcy knew she should have taken Jane’s old uniform instead of keeping the one from fifth year.

“Yes you’re beautiful hurry up, Darcy.” A voice says from across the hall.

Most of the dormitory ignores it, the phrase commonplace since the beginning of their first year.

Darcy does hurry up as she detects an impatient lit in her best friend’s tone. One she’s very familiar with and she ducks out of the way from a tickling hex.

“You’re so impatient, James.” She huffs. James rolls his eyes and tugs her along outside the dorm. They both automatically bid their housemates a goodbye as the door closes behind them.

“Can ya blame me, doll? You’ve never given me a chance to introduce you to Stevie. I’m gonna milk it for all it’s worth.” A crooked grin and twinkling eyes are thrown her way.

“How Slytherin of you.” Darcy wrinkles her nose.

Darcy still doesn’t understand how she got roped into this meeting.

James’ birthday.

Her unplanned visit to the Infirmary.

Oh yeah.

“Don’t be like that, doll. Professor Sprout is always telling us to believe in the best of others.” James chides.

Which is very true.

Still doesn’t mean Darcy will. She’s heard all about the reputation of Steve Rogers.

How he attacked Gryffindors unprovoked and got away with it. Not to mention he was found on the floor, fists in that Dumstrang student Rumslow’s face. Why should she be willing to extend her friendship bubble to him?

Roger must have hexed James because she could not fathom how he’d be able to stand being around such a bully.

So focused on her inner musings, Darcy’s nose met a very firm, muscular chest. Strong hands softly gripped her upper arm and moved her to the side.

Darcy nearly reaches for her wand when her eyes meet a pair of bright blue eyes. Her mouth nearly drops.

“No introductions yet and you’re already injuring people, you menace.” James laughs as he lunges for a hug from the hulking blond.

Said menace sheepishly laughs and hugs James back. There’s pure enjoyment in the way they greet each other that it shocks Darcy.

“Is this Darce?” Steve looks over Darcy, holding out a hand. He looks a bit flustered. “Sorry about walkin’ right into you.”

“A Slytherin who can apologize? That’s a first.”

She wants to punch herself as the words come out. James is giving her a Look™ and Steve is suddenly the definition of Kicked Puppy. She didn’t even realize someone so big and buff could looked like a kicked puppy. Thor doesn’t count. But Rogers was definitely golden retriever edition.

“And yeah,” she takes the hand left hanging in the air like a dead rat, shaking even as she wants to bolt, “I’m Darcy. ‘Darce’ to this weirdo obsessed with nicknames.”

“You know you love it, doll.” James gives her a lascivious smirk. “Admit it.”

“Never.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Quite the charmer, Buck.”

“Yeah a snake charmer!”

The twin groans that followed his statement made Bucky grin. Nice to see his best friends agree on something.

“I appreciate a good pun like any good Hufflepuff but that sucked.” Darcy says.

“I agree.” Steve shakes his head at James. “We know you can do better than that.”

Darcy glances at him, surprised to be included. She distracted by her younger cousin Luna, however. She comes down the hallway, as soft and sweet and glassy-eyed as always. She pauses when she sees Darcy and her company, smile growing.

“Darcy!” She calls joyfully. “James. Steve.”

“Luna.” Darcy shifts her stance a little, protective of her younger cousin. She was picked on alot since Jane had graduated and Darcy was a Hufflepuff, usually for her peculiarities. Knowing Steve was a bully had Darcy ready to rip him apart at the slightest moment’s notice if he even glanced at Luna rudely. “Don’t you have class right now?”

“I’m on the way to the bathroom.” Luna replies, before turning to Steve. She pulls from a pocket a radish, a Quibbler, and a gold coin, offering them to him. “Thank you for helping me find my shoes and sweater yesterday.”

Steve blushes, rubbing the back of his neck. “Wasn’t a problem.” He responds, taking the gifts. “Thank you, Luna.”

Luna gives a closed-eyed smile. “The radish is the right size for a necklace, it’ll keep away the nargles. And the gold coin is for any leprechauns you meet. They’re quite mean if you don’t have gold to offer.”

“And the Daily Quibbler?”

Luna hums a little. “I dog-eared the articles you might like.” She goes around them. “Have a rainy day.”

Darcy watches her cousin go, surprised. She looks at Steve who’s careful to pocket the coin and slips the radish into the folds of his robes. He flips through the Quibbler after, handing each article Luna had dog-eared.

“What was that,” she demands after a moment.

“Oh.” Steve blushed again. “Luna’s shoes and sweater were stolen and strung up around the school again.” He shrugged. “I helped her find them and get them back.”

James tosses a sympathetic look towards Luna’s back. Some of the stories he heard weren’t pretty.

Darcy frowns. “Are you serious? She’s still being bullied?” She shoves her sleeves up, murder in her eyes.

One of the sure ways to piss off a Hufflepuff is to attack their close people. Darcy’s already planning to attack.

James anticipates her moving and neatly steps aside while holding up an arm to stop her.

“James I will take you down with the asses who hurt her.”

“You don’t know who hurt her.” James says in a gentle, firm tone. “Or if she was hurt.”

Darcy huffs. “Once they see me coming I’ll know. And just taking her things is hurting her, James. Just because they didn’t touch her doesn’t mean she wasn’t emotionally wounded.”

James drops his arm with a sigh. Steve stops them both when he speaks, “It was Crabbe. He was boasting about taking the “Looney”s things last week. I didn’t catch him in the act so I couldn’t do anything. But I hexed him anyway.”

Darcy narrowed her eyes. “Crabbe? Who the hell is Crabbe?”

“One of Malfoy’s followers. Steve, I thought you got him sorted out?” Bucky groaned.

He wants to face palm himself when Steve shakes his head. Oh man. James knew by looking at Darcy it wasn’t going to end well for any Slytherin.

“Yeah Steve,” Darcy’s teeth gnash together, “why haven’t you sorted that little twat?”

Steve’s brow furrows. “Don’t call him that. Draco was doing okay right up until that imposter turned him into a ferret.”

Oh man. Darcy should have known. Snakes only protect other snakes.

“I’ll call him whatever I want. That snake is getting out of hand with his attitude. Fix it or I will.” Darcy has no fear about getting in the giant blond’s face. Her finger hurts from the way she poked at his chest.

Had James not lifted her wand during this exchange she would have hexed Steve right then and there. Thank Merlin for small miracles.

“The term’s almost done. Draco won’t cause any problems for Luna or anyone else. And if you would refrain from touching me, I’d be grateful.” Steve does not move and waits for the badger girl to lift her hand. He feared he’d see finger nail indents in his skin once he heads to the shower.

Steve does not miss the dark glower sent his way as Darcy suddenly spins and stalks away. His eyes shift to James who is stiff and still.

“AND DON’T THINK I DIDN’T NOTICE YOU STANDING THERE PLAYING DEAD JAMES.” James flinched.

“Some doll you have, Bucky.” Steve crosses his arms in irritation.

What an aggressive girl. He could understand protecting Luna. The Ravenclaw girl had always been friendly and polite if somewhat odd to anyone who came across her. The silver haired girl had taken one look at Steve in all of his angered glory and offered him some radishes after he had beaten off her bullies.

But she did not know Draco the way Steve knew him. Steve could see how lost that boy was. Constantly craving the attention from a father that was not there. Steve remembered that first year when Draco would boast about his father throughout the day. How he struggled to emulate his father’s smug drawl and swagger.

Steve knows what it’s like to follow a father’s example. The only problem was that Draco’s father was wrong as hell.

He might not have been the most cunning of his classmates but he knew how to research well enough. Lucius Malfoy was a dangerous man and if Draco followed in his footsteps…it did not bear thinking. Sara Rogers had always taught him to do the right thing if it was in his power. And it was in his power to make sure Draco didn’t follow the steps of those came before him.

Covered in green and silver, with an imposing scowl on his face, James could see why most people avoided this Slytherin student. Steve had righteous indignation on his face and James could practically feel the thunder clouds brewing over his head.

“I did tell you she’s a spitfire.” James retorts.

He starts walking only slowing enough for Steve to sigh and follow him.

“Like a Chinese Fireball. I thought she was going to hex me.” Steve replies.

James raises his hand and twirls the cherry oak, 10 inch wand in his hand. He couldn’t help the laughter that escapes him at Steve’s face.

“I figured it was best to level the battlefield in case the two of you came to blows.”

Steve always had such unfortunate luck with women.

— The nerve of him, Jane. I swear that this is the last time James drags me anywhere. He always gets me in trouble or mad with the antics he pulls. Really he should have been sorted in Gryffindor with all those other adrenaline-riddled idiots. How do you stand it? And oooooh don’t even get me started on that snake friend of his. And by snake I mean Slytherin so wipe that confused look off your face. Seriously! A snake! After the way those bastards used to treat you and Thor on Loki’s command. He defended, DEFENDED, that pale haired little swot that picks on Luna. Can you believe it? James has to be enchanted. Anyways, please write back as soon as you can. James hates it that I complain about his friend and I need to vent before I explode.

Darcy sighs by the fire as she eagerly rips open the letter that Jane sent back after Darcy, fuming, wrote to her about her woes.

Jane talks about her work in the world of meshing science and magic to make her Einstein-Rosen Bridge. Darcy enjoys the jargon thrown at her because it was the same jargon her Muggle mother spouted over summer holiday, excited about the summer stars far more than Darcy and just as much as Jane.

But it does nothing to help Darcy control her rage over the Slytherin so she places the letter in her trunk. Other letters are lovingly stacked up and nearly spilling over the rest of her papers. Like her cousin, Darcy had taken to keeping all her written works.

The trunk, golden vines etched into the dark wood and a large golden tree in the middle, is stationed at the end of the bed. She hits her toes on the edges every morning when she rushes to get ready.

She huffs as she stares at the ceiling. Woodland animals dance about uncaring of her troubles.

“Darcy?” Her roommate Aislin Summers calls out hesitantly.

Of all the girls in her year, Darcy found Aislin to be the sweetest. Hair as red as firewhiskey, she could fit in with the Weasley clan. Once Fred and George Weasley tried poaching the girl only to back off when James and her came at them.

“Yeah?” She sits up and yawns. Darcy frowns at the sour taste in her mouth.

“You’re going to miss supper if you don’t get up.” A quick glance shows that Aislin was closer to the door than Darcy had assumed.

Her hair is neatly braided and set to the side, with her robes perfectly pressed. It was clear that the redhead was ready to leave. It was only her friendliness with her roommate and a possible guilty conscious that makes her stay.

A loud rumbling of her stomach is the only sound in the room.

“I’m coming.” Darcy says as she bolts off the bed.

Uncaring of the disheveled appearance she gave off, Darcy grabs her wand and heads out with Aislin.

“Normally I wouldn’t bother you since James is always around to walk with you, but I saw him head out to go write to that pretty girl from Dumstrang. You know? The one who looks like she could hit you with a Bulger without even looking?” Aislin says.

Darcy only nods. Yeah, she definitely knows the girl. Natasha Romanova was one of the few female Quidditch players from Dumstrang. James had been knocked in the head by her during a late night forbidden game.

Instead of getting mad or pretending like she didn’t exist, James only stood up and gave her a confused grin. Natasha had haughtily sniffed in his direction before dragging her sniggering teammate Clint Barton away.

Now all three exchange letters when they can.

Really she had to talk to that boy about his terrible taste in people.

The mouth watering scents from the kitchens cling to the girls as they leave Hufflepuff territory. They pass by the barrels of pumpkin juice and are a bit farther from the basement area when Aislin stops.

“Something wrong?” Darcy asks when she notices the red head sigh in frustration.

“I forgot my wand. I’m going to go back and get it.”

“It’s dinner. Just leave it, I have mine in case something happens.” Darcy says.

Aislin waves her off telling her, “Just go ahead and I’ll catch up later.” And turns back to their cosy common room.

Leaving Darcy alone in the halls.

Darcy sighs and shakes her head at the absentmindedness of her classmate. It wasn’t unusual for the girl to forget things so she really shouldn’t be too surprised when it happens at the most inconvenient times.

The journey to reach the Great Hall is quiet with only the sounds of her footsteps to keep her company.

The sniffling sounds of a child and the quiet murmurs of someone reaches her ears forcing her to walk towards the sound. The people in the paintings are gone. No doubt to feast with the other paintings in the Hall. Really the flames of the torches were the sole living thing there.

Well, not including Darcy and, apparently, two other people.

Darcy comes around the corner and finds Steve crouched down, looking uncomfortable and tiny. He’s smiling gently, talking to a crying first year. The first year is curled into the wall, clutching a book from the library.

The kid in question is a boy from Ravenclaw- a glance showed the bronze and blue colors- and he’s nodding to whatever Steve is saying, rubbing at his eyes. His glasses are fogged up from the heat of his tears.

Steve reaches out, petting his hair, an unruly brown that could be in better shape. “Peter, want me to escort you back to the Ravenclaw commons?”

“What’s going on?” Darcy asks, eyes narrowing on the situation.

The boy– Peter, according to Steve– curls into Steve and trembles.

Steve picks the boy up like it’s nothing.

“None of your concern, Lewis.”

“It is my concern seeing as he’s crying and near my dormitory.” Darcy crosses her arms, scowling at him.

“Last I checked, he’s actually closer to mine.” Steve tilts his head left as he carefully shifts Peter, and Darcy refuses to look the few meters ahead that it would take to see the entrance to the dungeons. “And the Bloody Baron went to let the headmasters know Nott tried to hex a first year, so it’s all taken care of, Lewis.”

Darcy scowls again. “Quit calling me that.”

“What? Lewis?” Steve raises an eyebrow.

Darcy wants to do something about that half smirk sent her way.

“It’s your name.”

“My name is Darcy, so use it.” She corrects. She feels like stomping her foot but isn’t five anymore.

“Be a little nicer and I will.”

Peter says something that’s mumbled into Steve’s collar, and Steve’s attention is completely diverted again. He looks so… Darcy hates to say it, but attractive when helping someone or a protective figure.

Steve talks quietly but Darcy still makes out some of what he says. “Yeah, I’ll take you to MJ. She’s a Gryffindor, right?”

Steve glances at Darcy briefly, then looks away. “I’ve gotta go.” He tells her. “See you later.”

Darcy takes a half-aborted step forward, unsure of what she’s going to do but knowing it’ll happen anyway. Then she doesn’t, watching Steve carry Peter away.

“Dammit it all.” She huffs right as Aislin comes back and the two boys are gone around another corner.

“You didn’t have to wait.” Aislin pouts a little and Darcy turns. Her roommate frowns. “Are you okay? You look a little upset.”

“I’m fine.” Darcy shakes her head. “Just… some things were, uh, pointed out to me.”

Aislin gives her a curious look all night when Darcy keeps sneaking glances at the Slytherin table and wistfully sighing.

[fanfic-collection]

In a Name: 28

So guess who just delayed writing about the Ball by writing drabble of the dress and more angst? Spoilers... I want to write it, but like... It's weird that the end is nearing? So I'm like procrastinating. I feel like I'm building up to something big but have no idea what's going to happen at the same time, so like... I hope you enjoy, thanks for the supportive comments! Also kinda short - sorry...

The people @ladytaissa @xordinaryxwomanx @megasimpleplan4ever @stace1394 @thebookisbtr @lucifer-the-cuddler @xdebora @hannah-caitlynn @graysonmalfoy @falltoashes @solsticestorm @bingewatchingmylifegoby @elenoranave @incadinkadoo @melanin—senpai @juuliiaa05 @sigridlaufeyson @ihaveanobsessenproblem @oneweirdfangirl @kristenscamander @pabegay1

Tears welled in your eyes as you looked in the mirror.

“Does the dress not suit you child?” Frigga asked warmly.

You quickly shook your head, wiping the tears away. “No, my lady, it's beautiful.” Indeed it was, the dress made of the finest silks, floor length and in the most vibrant shade of green. Layers and layers of fabric sat upon each other, cinched at the waist and flaring out widely around you. The upper portion hugged tightly against your frame, a corset of sorts, decorated in gold threads and gold ceremonial armour. It had cut off sleeves, your shoulders bare – to be adorned with a beautiful necklace or wrap, whichever the queen decided – and long flared wrists.

“Then the tears?”

“Happy tears, my queen, it's beautiful. I have never felt so beautiful.”

“You have always been so beautiful, I'm merely enhancing it and displaying it.” Frigga tilted her head, “There will be many men there as well, members of Asgard's court, siblings of visiting royals, perhaps someone will find your eye?” She offered hesitantly.

You shook your head, “Oh no, my queen, I could never. This night is about your son.” You swallowed hard, closing your eyes briefly before returning to look at your reflection, “besides, I know my place.”

Frigga rest her elbow in her arm, using her hand to prop up her chin as she studied you. “Yes, perhaps, and yet perhaps not.”

“My queen?”

She pulled her hands away, “Never mind. Let's just see how the night goes.”

“How fairs the king?” You asked timidly.

Frigga sighed, “He sleeps, I dread seeing him in such a state but I know it is natural.”

“The princes?” You asked even more hesitantly.

The queen sighed heavily, rubbing at her hands. “Thor fairs well, as always. He is strong in the face of adversity, and I am proud of him. But he is not the prince you worry after, is he?”

You turned to face her, worried she might admonish you.

“Don't fret, child. Loki is troubled, it's quite obvious that he dreads the arrival of the ball.”

“I worry for him.” You admitted.

“He needs it.”

You sighed heavily, gripping the fabric before quickly letting go, lest you wrinkle it. Swallowing hard, you looked back up at her. “I support his decision fully, my queen, whoever he picks. It is for the good of the kingdom.”

Frigga nodded slowly, “I wonder of his heart though, do you think he will be happy in an arranged marriage?”

Biting your lip you studied the fabric, seeking answers it would not give. “Honestly my queen,” you looked back up, “I have doubts there. He is mature and intelligent, but I don't think he could truly go against his heart. Wherever it might lay, but perhaps he could grow to love someone, even if he did not initially choose them.” Your words sounded hollow, rehearsed.

“He could make himself love someone he does not?”

“Surely there is hope?”

“And yet, if his heart lay with another?”

“Who could it possibly be with, he sees no one now, yes?” You choked out, throat tight.

“Does he not?”

You stared at her nervously, unsure what to say.

“What am I to do? Should I follow my heart, or my promises? Should I seek the good of the kingdom or of the nine realms?”

“My queen?”

“You are my emissary, what is your advice?”

You blinked at her, terrified to be asked such a heavy question. “Surely no one can control the queen of Asgard, if your heart tells you something, perhaps it is with reason?” The offer turned into a question, doubt flooding you.

“That there is a reason my heart is telling me to break a promise?”

“Was it a bad promise? Coerced maybe?”

“Being queen for as long as I have, has taught me many things. Sometimes, I think, there are rules made to be broken.”

You smiled weakly, “That sounds like something I've heard Loki say.”

“Where do you think he learned it?” Frigga grinned. “Now, let us get you out of that dress and back to your duties, I think that's enough fun for one day?”

“Of course my queen.” You bowed low as a servant entered into the room, moving to help you out of the confines of the dress.

Frigga left the room from a side door and you were soon back in your Einharjar clothing, still smiling from the beauty of the dress. You left the room by the main door, opening it and stepping into the hallway, nearly walking into someone as you did.

“Oh I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there.” Your mouth fell open as you hurriedly bowed low and added, “my prince.”

Loki smiled sadly down at you, offering his hand for you to straighten back up. “Hello beautiful.” He murmured.

You tried not to smile but the warmth in his eyes, so lacking these last few months when you had observed him without his knowledge, comforted your heart. “The ball is tomorrow.” Were the words that fell from your mouth and you instantly regretted it, shutting your mouth and gritting your teeth.

Loki looked away bitterly. “It is. Then another few months and I shall be married off, forced to turn some poor wretch into a pawn such as myself.”

Your heart ached, yearning for him. Reaching out, you cupped his cheek gently, stroking it as he sank into your touch. “I shouldn't.” You managed to say as Loki gripped your hand, holding it in place.

He nuzzled into your touch, pressing a soft kiss to your palm before looking back at you forlornly. “And yet it feels so pleasant.”

You bit your lip, once more trying to pull away as Loki finally allowed you.

“If I don't choose the frost giant princess, will my future wife recoil when she sees me? Or shall I lie to her about that, just as I will lie of my promise to love her.”

“I don't recoil, perhaps she won't as well.”

“I love you for that.” Loki sighed heavily, looking away, “I love you for everything.”

“You mustn't.” You whispered, throat tightening as you felt tears pricking your eyes.

Loki looked back at you, “I can't help that I love you. Truly, I could never love another as I do you. What if we ran away?”

“Where would we go? You are a prince, we would be hunted everywhere.”

“I am a bastard, I would not be missed. You, perhaps, would be, your friend.” Loki trailed off. “You could never leave Asgard, could you?”

“It is my home.”

“Wherever you are, wherever you go, you will always be my home.”

“Please don't say such things.”

“The ball is tomorrow, I have to say it before it's too late. Say the word and we run away together.”

“Please don't put that upon me. You have your duties, your mother, we couldn't...”

“Loki? Emissary?” Frigga's voice cut through the hallway and the two of you turned.

“Mother!” Loki yelled, “what are you doing here?”

“I was intending to check on you, but it seems you left your room finally. Guards said they saw you making your way here and I came to see you.”

Loki quickly pulled away from you, his hands clasped behind his back. You stared at the queen nervously, wondering how much she had heard.

Frigga looked between the two of you. “I have some errands for you to attend to, emissary, if you might retrieve the papers from my chambers. I will see you at the ball tomorrow. As for you, Loki, let's make sure you are suitable for the ball tomorrow and know your potential suitors.” Loki swallowed thickly, nodding mutely. Frigga looked between the two of you sadly, her expression curious but torn and clearly deep in thought. “Perhaps some rules really are made to be broken.” She murmured under her breath.

“My lady?” You asked, not quite hearing her.

“Never mind, please, attend to your duties. You must be bright and attentive for the ball tomorrow, I expect you to act as my adviser with Loki, staying by his side. It will be a hectic time for everyone.”

“Of course.” You bowed low, hurrying off to find the papers Frigga had mentioned.

“I know that look, mother.” Loki said, tilting his head uncertainly once you were out of ear shot.

“It is a look you wear quite often, am I wrong, my son?”

A grin quirked the corners of Loki's mouth as he studied her, “That is fair to say.”

“You will wear your formal garb tomorrow. Perhaps it is for the best that your father sleeps.” She reached up and stroked his face, squeezing his shoulder. “I hate to see you suffering.”

“Thank you for your compassion, mother.”

“The guards said you were looking for me?”

“I was wondering what you were doing on the eve of such an important night. Thor is training with Sif, I hoped you might have other plans.”

Frigga winked at him, “Oh I always have my plans.”