#mischief and fidelity

[shambelle97]

꧁ MY MASTERLIST ꧂

Una miriade di pensieri pervase l’astuta e machiavellica mente del Dio degli Inganni, appena sedutosi sul divanetto del salotto.

Elucubrazioni mentali dedicate nondimeno che alla graziosa figlia di Bjorn e Sigrid, affiancata da uno scellerato come suo futuro consorte.

Preferì lasciare il ricevimento prima delle loro imminenti nozze, permeato da un’insana gelosia finora repressa agli occhi dei presenti.

Bramava quella giovane donna dalla bionda chioma, salvandola da uno spregevole destino filato dalle Norne.

Eppure comprese a proprie spese che nel giro di poche ore non le sarebbe mai più appartenuta.

Odiò entrambi con estremo ardore, crogiolandosi nella più completa solitudine dentro gli sfarzosi appartamenti privati.

La consueta lettura notturna lo avrebbe aiutato a distrarsi da tutto il resto.

Afferrò il tomo riposto sopra il tavolo, leggendo a mente ogni singola frase scritta.

Sfogliò le svariate pagine del libro, finché l’udire di un lieve bussare non interruppe l’azione.

Da dietro il portone, l’inconfondibile voce di Sigyn non poté far a meno di sorprenderlo.

L’accolse con innata freddezza, permettendole di accomodarsi.

Costei indossava una semplice veste bianca e i capelli erano completamente sciolti.

“A cosa devo la vostra inaspettata visita, Lady Sigyn?”

Proferì con un punto di domanda, tagliente e affilato come uno dei suoi immancabili pugnali.

Sigyn notò l’atteggiamento pacato, ma ben distaccato e gelido nei suoi confronti.

Covava rabbia, risentimento e forse anche dolore a causa di ciò che sarebbe avvenuto l’indomani.

“Sono qui per te, Loki di Asgard. Non lascerò che le nostre strade si separino, almeno per stanotte.”

Confessò informale, decretando che lo avrebbe amato per l’ultima volta.

Loki emise un risolino amaro, squadrandola rapace.

Le gemme azzurre della bella Vanir si scontrarono col verde intenso dei suoi occhi, perdendosi l’un l’altra.

Un lento esame visivo da sconvolgerne gli animi inquieti.

Ultimato di studiarsi a vicenda, Lingua D’Argento riprese la parola.

“Hai corso un gran bel rischio, venendo qui; che nessun Einherjar abbia avuto modo d’incrociare la tua presenza. Puoi ritenerti fortunata.”

Riconobbe sardonico, ghignando maliziosamente.

Dopodiché estrasse dalla credenza una bottiglia di pregiato idromele, versando il liquido ambrato in due appositi calici argentati.

Glielo porse cortese, sorseggiando il proprio con eleganza.

Sigyn saggiò il contenuto, definendolo di ottimo gusto.

“Non proverò mai simili sentimenti per Theoric, sei tu l’uomo a cui voglio donare il mio cuore.”

Precisò lei, stanca di celare le proprie emozioni.

Si erano odiati e in seguito amati nell’arco di una sola annata, tra litigi e incontri carnali davvero intensi.

Una potente attrazione sia fisica che mentale, travolgendoli a pieno.

“Esserti fedele sempre, nonostante tutto. Non m’importa dei pregiudizi che circondano la tua persona, non più. Sono certa che tu sia migliore di così.”

Continuò la graziosa dama, dichiarandosi apertamente a colui che ordiva imbrogli con estrema facilità.

Confessioni da smuovergli l’anima, inducendolo a posare la coppa sul tavolo.

“Non temi la mia indole volubile e menzognera, piccola e sfacciata Vanir? Che possa usarti per i miei crudeli scopi?”

Mormorò beffardo vicino al suo viso, desideroso di fiondarsi sulle sue morbide labbra.

Ella dissentì con una sicurezza e determinazione mai viste prima, stupendo il principe.

“No, perché non ne saresti capace quando si tratta di me.”

Affermò decisa, dimostrando di sapere cosa volesse.

Le dita piccole e delicate si posarono sopra le sue, infondendogli conforto.

Le loro bocche si cercarono dolcemente, perdendosi nell’oblio dell’eccitazione.

Bramarono molto di più, proseguendo coi baci sempre più insistenti e passionali.

La donna fu distesa sul sedile dalla stoffa verde con eccessiva grazia, lasciandosi andare a lui.

Premure docili, ma al contempo furiose da renderla schiava delle sue attenzioni.

“Stolto vigliacco di un soldato, non la otterrai mai.”

Giurò vendicativo tra sé, intento a torturarle avido il collo.

Sigyn gemette e sospirò di piacere, invocando il nome dell’amato.

Il Signore del Caos si dilettò a vederla in balìa del suo potere, riserbandole parole seducenti.

L’Amica della Vittoria fremette di ardente desiderio, ansimando per la voluttà.

“Ho bisogno di te.”

Confidò sommessa, stupendo l’Ase mentre lambiva e baciava la pelle soffice della fanciulla.

“Facciamo l’amore, ti prego.”

Supplicò poi, inspirando l’odore di cuoio e muschio.

Non ci pensò due volte che la prese in braccio, conducendola in camera da letto.

La depose sul materasso, rimuovendole il candido abito per assaggiarla ovunque.

“Appartieni a me, Sigyn di Vanaheim: vedi di rammentarlo in eterno.”

Sancì risoluto il Fabbricante di Bugie, trapelandone comunque la devozione.

“Lo so.”

Soffiò la bionda, sorridendo mesta.

Ella cominciò a spogliarlo dei suoi indumenti, abbandonandosi alla libidine.

Il sagace ingannatore del regno d’oro stabilì un nuovo contatto con le labbra, divenendo sempre più profondo.

Mugugnarono inebriati, amandosi disperatamente.

Separarsi era come commettere un orribile sacrilegio.

“Ti amo, Loki.”

Pronunciò commossa la figlia del generale Vanir, baciandogli uno zigomo.

Il moro non rispose, sconvolto da una rivelazione così autentica e colma di romanticismo.

Non era abituato a simili manifestazioni affettive da parte di donne che non fossero sua madre.

Afferrò il dorso della mano, elargendole un bacio carico del medesimo sentimento.

Sigyn arrossì per via del gesto, ridacchiando felicemente.

Consumarono l’amplesso, rotolandosi tra le lenzuola di seta smeraldine.

Si ritrovarono ansanti e sudati, l’una tra le braccia dell’altro.

“Sfiderò la sorte se necessario. Theoric e tutti coloro che sono favorevoli alla vostra insulsa unione non l’avranno vinta.”

Garantì duro e al contempo determinato, sfiorandole la chioma lucente.

“Pensi davvero che i tuoi stratagemmi funzioneranno? Odino non ne sarà affatto lieto.”

Replicò titubante la bellissima Vanir, blandendogli il torace glabro.

“Gli Æsir non conoscono la resa, cara Sigyn: lotterebbero con le unghie e con i denti pur d’ottenere ciò che spetta loro di diritto. Mio padre dovrà mettersi l’animo in pace non appena lo saprà.”

Una pericolosa promessa che avrebbe potuto minare l’equilibrio tra un’antica alleanza, durata per diversi secoli.

“Se dovesse accadere qualcosa d’irreparabile a te, non me lo perdonerei mai. Non meriti di pagare l’alto prezzo per la mia infedeltà verso Vanaheim.”

Loki invertì le posizioni, gravandole sopra: fu lesto a stringerle i polsi, però senza recarle dolore.

“Credo sia il caso di rivalutare il vero concetto di fedeltà, principessina. Non recherai alcun torto, seguendo i tuoi desideri. Riscrivere la propria storia, cambiando le regole del destino è un atto puramente leale verso sé stessi. Non lasciare che nessuno t’intralci, sii libera.”

La Dea rimase piuttosto colpita da quelle frasi ferree, ma terribilmente veritiere.

Annuì silente, scrutando il fisico scultoreo e asciutto del guerriero su di sé.

I lunghi riccioli d’ebano le solleticarono la fronte, vogliosa d’accarezzarli.

La liberò dalla presa, concedendole d’essere toccato e riempito d’adorazione.

La luce fioca e tremolante delle candele la resero ancora più incantevole e sensuale dinnanzi ai suoi occhi.

Rinunciare a quella donna sarebbe stato impossibile per uno del suo calibro.

Avrebbero passato assieme la loro ultima notte, percorrendo i sentieri più insidiosi e oscuri della lussuria.

Un turbine di sfrenata follia, mescolandosi all’indissolubile legame instauratosi nel corso del tempo.

Un amore devastante da superare qualsiasi ostacolo.

                                                    𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒆

One Shot:

~ Mischief And Fidelity ~

Name Chapter:

~ The Last Night ~

[jasposeyblog]

Continuing the Young Avengers...

My commission of teen Loki by Erik Fidel

[dank-art]

Practising character deisgn with the assistance of TANGLED sketch bases of mother Gothel and Rapunzel. ( but a lot of this is my own tweaking)

[hollustu]

𝐋𝐎𝐊𝐈 , 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐘𝐍 , & 𝐃𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐃. DO NOT INTERACT UNLESS MUTUALS.

[november-rayne]

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Sigyn's Virtue

Summary: Sigyn's faith is tested. Could this be the end of Loki's happily ever after?

Word Count: 2500

Rating: Mature

*This story is for mature audiences only.* 18+

*Minors DNI*

Tags: unplanned pregnancy, mentions of termination of pregnancy

Chapter Index

Fidelity

/fə deləde̅/

noun

Definition: faithfulness to a person, cause, or belief, demonstrated by continuing loyalty and support

Loki raised his gaze from Sera’s belly back to her eyes. They were pleading, desperate. He stood up straighter and steeled himself; he looked directly at the King, “Again, what is this about?”

Odin gave him an exasperated sigh, “I will give you one more opportunity to send Sigyn away so we may settle this matter privately.”

Loki’s grip tightened on her hand. He looked at her; his face was apologetic.

Sigyn touched his neck and pulled him down to kiss his forehead. She rested her head against his and whispered, “It is ok. You can send me away if you want to. Or I can stay if you need me to. I love you, Loki Odinson. Nothing is going to change that. Whatever happens in this room today will not change that. Do you understand me?”

He took a slow breath, “I do not deserve you.” He whispered back, his eyes closed.

“Tell that to the Norns. You believe yourself wiser than the Nornir who saw fit to bring us together? Or my heart that swells to bursting when I think of you?”

“Sigyn, I…” he raised his head to look at her. He could not finish his sentence. What he saw took his breath away.

Sigyn was surrounded, head to toe, in a sky-blue glow. Heatless azure flames licked her skin. Light danced around her, pushing away from her. It was emanating from her, originating from deep within her. He had seen flashes of it in her eyes before, but now it was surrounding her.

Fidelity.

Loki pried his eyes from her to look at his father; he was leaning forward on the throne. Sights set intently on Sigyn.

“Send for the Queen,” Odin ordered without taking his eyes off her.

“Right away, sire.” Henrik motioned to the messenger.

Confusion set in on Sigyn’s face as Loki picked up her hand, turning it to and fro, admiring the patterns the light made on her skin.

“Do you not see it?” he whispered.

She held her hands out in front of herself. “What am I looking for? Loki, what are you on about?”

He shook his head in response, “We can talk about that later.” He kissed her palm and placed it on his cheek. “I have no right to ask you this but, will you stay by my side? Will you stay here with me? For me?”

“Of course, my love.” She ran her thumb across his cheekbone.

Loki turned back to the King, “Sigyn is staying.”

“Very well,” Odin nodded curtly. Sitting back on his throne. “This woman claims that you are the father of her unborn child.”

“That is simply not possible,” Loki replied matter-of-factly. He heard Sera scoff beside him.

Odin eyed him carefully, “Are you telling me you never brought this woman into your bed?”

“I am telling you,” he took a deep breath, “that I took precautions.”

“Magic?”

“Yes.”

Odin was thoughtful for a moment, “Has your seiðr ever failed you before?”

“Yes,” Loki answered truthfully, “but never in those instances. I would never take such a gamble.”

Odin drummed his fingers on the arms of his throne. He turned his attention to Sera, “Young lady, is it possible that another man could have fathered this child?”

Loki focused intently on her face as she answered, “No, Your Majesty.”

“She is lying!”

“Your Highness, no, please.” Sera shook her head, “I have taken no lovers since you. My Prince, please. No one after you. No one could ever-”

“Finally, an honest statement. But that does not mean that is my child.”

“It cannot be anyone else. It just can’t be.” Tears started streaming down her face.

“Another lie! Just because you wish something to be true does not make it so! Father, her timing could not be more suspect.”

Odin nodded, “Are you familiar with the laws of succession, girl?”

“Only what I remember from school, Your Majesty.”

The Queen walked quickly through the side entrance. “What is so urgent?” She stopped in her tracks when she saw Sigyn. “Norns…”

Sigyn’s aura had retreated somewhat, but she still had a sky-blue halo of light circling her head.

Frigga pulled Sigyn into a hug before she had a chance to curtsey. “Oh, you precious girl. This is wonderful!” The Queen released her and clasped their hands together in front of her heart.

Sigyn’s confused expression and the woman's sobs to Loki’s other side jolted Frigga back into the moment, “What is going on?” She asked the King, “Is this not why you called me here?”

He gave a grave shake of his head, “We have another matter to discuss first.”

“What could be more important than-”

“Later, Frigga.” He motioned for her to join him.

“I see. Very well, someone, please fill me in.”

Frigga settled into her seat beside the King and nodded for him to continue as she straightened her skirts.

“This woman came to the palace today to claim that Prince Loki is the father of her unborn child. He admits to knowing her and taking her to bed but refutes that the child could not be his because he used seiðr to prevent such an event from occurring. The woman denies taking any other lovers. Loki sensed falsehood in her statement. Then you arrived.”

Frigga nodded slowly, her thoughts tumbling like pebbles in the surf. “I have questions.”

“By all means,” Odin motioned to Sera.

“What is your name, dear?”

“My name is Sera Nilsen, Your Majesty.” She curtsied shakily.

“And how do you know my son?”

“I… Prince Loki employed me as his chambermaid.”

Frigga narrowed her eyes. “Loki, is this the same woman who snuck into your chambers on the day of your betrothal?”

“Yes, Mother. But nothing happened.”

Sera huffed quietly.

“Nothing happened that would result in pregnancy.” Loki amended as he threw his hand up in defense.  “She tried to seduce me, but I sent her away, heeding your warning, Mother.”

“But you do not deny sharing a bed with this girl before that day?”

“I do not deny it.”

“More than once?”

"Yes.” He hung his head, anticipating the line of questioning to come.

“How many times?”

Loki swallowed hard, not meeting his mother’s eyes, “It is impossible to say. It was almost every day while I employed her. Multiple times per day...” Sigyn’s hand clenched around his arm, and he felt her go rigid at his side.

“And you are certain your contraceptive charm could keep up with that much activity?”

Loki ran his hand down his face, “I renew it as often as needed. I never proceed until I feel it take effect. After all these centuries, it almost feels wrong when I do not use it.”

“There are occasions when you do not use it?” Frigga tilted her head in concern.

Loki sighed, “Not all lovers can conceive children, Mother.”

“Yes, right.” Her hands busied themselves on the arms of the throne while she tried to remember her next set of questions. “When did the affair start?”

“I object to you calling it an affair.”

Frigga took a deep breath and counted to five in her head to regain her patience, “When did her employment start?”

Loki looked to the ceiling, “Roughly five months ago? Give or take a week. The employment records would have the exact date.”

“Is that an accurate estimate, Sera?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“And how far along into your pregnancy are you now?”

“I…I am unsure, Your Majesty.”

“A lie,” Loki protested. “Mother, she is willfully withholding information.”

“Sera, you must realize that it is futile to lie or lie by omission. You are leveling a very serious allegation here; we must have all the facts.”

“I am uncertain because I have yet to visit a midwife, Your Majesty.”

“Why would you put off seeing a midwife?”

Fresh tears spilled down her pretty face. “I am afraid to say.”

“Go on, child. You must continue.”

She took a few deep breaths, “I did not wish to see a midwife. I went to see a witch instead.”

“A witch?” Odin asked, “Why would a pregnant woman visit a witch instead of a midwife?”

“Because not all pregnant women wish to become mothers,” Frigga replied.

“Please,” she wiped her snotty nose with her hand, “Please have mercy on me. I drank the secret tea, and I prayed to the Norns to take the child back from me. But it did not work. And now,” she motioned to her tiny bump, “it will come regardless. I have no husband; I have no parents. I did not want this. I only wanted to be of service to the Prince. I have nowhere else to go. The Prince has always been so kind to me…” She sobbed uncontrollably.

Sigyn released Loki and went to the weeping woman’s side. “Hey,” She gently put her hand on her shoulder. Sera looked up in surprise, “You did the right thing by coming here.” Sigyn gave her a reassuring smile. “You should not have to endure this alone.” She rubbed one hand on Sera’s back and held the other out to Loki, “Handkerchief,” she demanded without looking at him.

He gaped at her momentarily before conjuring a handkerchief and placing it in her open palm.

“Now dry your tears. We are going to get this all sorted out.”

“Thank you, My Lady.”

Sigyn took the time to look her over. Her shoes were worn thin. She could feel her bones through the thin material of her dress as she rubbed her back. “Did you walk the entire way here?”

Sera nodded.

“Your feet must be sore. Do you want to take a break?”

“She needs to finish answering our questions.” The King interjected.

“She needs a warm meal and a fresh change of clothes! She needs somewhere to sit and rest. She came here out of desperation, and you are treating her like she is on trial!”

The King and Queen stared back at Sigyn in stunned silence.

“She is not a criminal! She is scared and needs our help. A piece of Loki could be trying to survive in her, needing sustenance, safety, and security. Bastard, it may be, but that does not change the fact it might be your first grandchild.” The radiance of her virtue flared brightly from her body anew.

Frigga brought her hand to her mouth to cover her gasp.

Sigyn stepped in front of Sera protectively, “She will not answer another question until she is offered a modicum of hospitality.”

Loki could only stare, shifting his focus nervously back and forth between Sigyn and the King, both wearing the same expression of fierce determination. The longer the silence hung in the air, the more anxious he became, unsure if he should say something to dissolve the tension.

Henrik stared straight ahead, eyes fixed on some point on the back wall. He was looking as if he may pass out at any moment.

The Queen folded her hands in her lap and kept her expression neutral.

Sigyn crossed her arms over her chest and doubled down on her rebellion by jutting her chin out slightly as if daring the King to reprimand her.

The chimes in the palace rang, signaling the eight o’clock hour.

Odin never took his eyes off Sigyn as he spoke, “Henrik, send a message to Thor to start the feast. Send our apologies to the guests regarding our absence.”

“Right away, sir.” Henrik looked relieved as he exited the dais to the messenger.

The King looked away first, standing and offering his hand to his wife, “We will all retreat to the small council room. Follow me.”

Sigyn helped Sera climb the steps and cross the dais to the room tucked behind the throne. Loki followed close behind. The King seated himself at the head of the table, Frigga to his right, Loki to his left. The younger women chose seats slightly further down from Loki.

Odin sat back in his seat and nodded to Frigga. Henrik entered, and Odin motioned for him to come closer. Henrik nodded as he listened to the King’s instructions, then took off again.

“There will be tea and platters brought up momentarily,” Frigga announced. “Could you answer a few more questions while we wait?” She addressed Sera with a gentler expression.

“Yes, Your Majesty. Thank you, Your Majesty,” she replied, grateful to finally be off her feet.

Frigga folded her hands on the top of the opulent table. She organized her thoughts before speaking.

“Sera, the Crown sympathizes with your situation. Personally, it breaks my heart to see someone in such distress. We will do everything we can to ensure your health and the health of your unborn child as citizens of Asgard.” She splayed her hands wide on the glossy tabletop, “With that being said, I must explain to you the potential problems this news causes our family and the political ramifications this could bring.”

Sera nodded in understanding.

The Queen motioned to Sigyn, “Sigyn, by law, cannot inherit her father’s lands or title outright. However, her husband may inherit them in her name. The line of succession begins again with the birth of Loki’s first male heir.

“If this child is Loki’s, born after Sigyn becomes his wife, and happens to be a boy, then, by law, the child could claim rights to the title when Loki dies. Ending the Anderson pedigree connected to those lands. Given the new information presented, Lord Anderson would be well within his rights to call off the wedding now to keep the title in his bloodline.”

Sigyn was livid but kept her voice neutral, “Just so I understand this correctly, your Majesties, did I just hear that a common bastard male would have more claim to my familial lands than myself, a high-born legitimate female or any of our legitimate children born after him?”

“The laws of succession state lands and titles go to the first male heir,” Odin replied.

“Apologies, Your Majesty, but that is ignorant and antiquated.”

Odin slammed his fist on the table, “It is the law!”

“The law is fucked!”

Loki stood abruptly and held out his hand. “It has been a long day for everyone. Let us finish this business so we may retreat to our respective chambers and get a good night's sleep in our own beds.” He looked at Sigyn with an expression that told her to drop it for now.

She nodded curtly and leaned back in her chair. “Apologies, My King. I have no excuse for my offensive language. I should not have said that out loud. I am simply beside myself over the mention of canceling the wedding.”

Odin gave her a sardonic smile, picking up the sarcasm in her apology, “You are forgiven. But you will mind your tongue from here on out.”

“Yes, My King.”

“Let me put an end to this discussion right now.” Loki quickly stepped behind Sera and placed his hand on the side of her head as he closed his eyes. Sera gasped briefly before her expression went blank, her jaw went slack, and she slumped in her seat.

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XOXO - Rayne 💚

Tag List: @gigglingtiggerv2 @chantsdemarins @superficialdomina @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @smolvenger @trickster-maiden @simone818283 @gruftiela @huntress-artemiss

[starwrittenfates]

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫

“Sigyn is weak” “Sigyn is a doormat” “Sigyn doesn’t have a story/purpose” “Sigyn is boring”

I’m sorry, but it bugs me when I come across posts where someone says these things about Sigyn (and don’t get me started on how a good majority of literature writers tend to write Sigyn as.)

Remaining kind and loving and compassionate when you’re repeatedly put through abuse and trauma is one of the bravest and strongest things you can do (and no, Loki is not abusive towards Sigyn! I’m talking about the other gods here – the Æsir – who not only had Sigyn’s husband’s mouth sewn shut, but had him working as their servant/errand boy to clean up their messes, took his children away, forced one of their children to turn into a wolf and kill the other, and bound him to a cave with snake venom dripping over him for centuries….among other things.)

Remaining beside your loved one’s side no matter what trials and tribulations come your way is one of the bravest and strongest things you can do (I mean, Sigyn brought a BOWL with her and stood there, collecting venom for CENTURIES, in order to PROTECT her husband! Even though Loki’s actions with killing Baldr resulted in Narfi’s death, Sigyn never once blamed Loki for it. She also didn’t have to be there doing what she does. As far as we know, she wasn’t forced into it. She CHOSE to be there, even through her grief. Not once did she falter…and because of this, because of Sigyn doing what she chose to do, Loki was able to make it to Ragnarok and fight the Æsir.)

When you look up the meaning of the word “Staying Power”, this is the definition you get:

[rothpie]

❝FIDELITY❞ |part13

MASTERLIST -`✮´- Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank

Summary: Kook!Reader’s world is upended by betrayal, and her only way forward might lie with the most unlikely person—JJ Maybank. But as they build a new life together, old flames and past mistakes refuse to stay buried.

Warnings: daddy issues

previous - next

The golden glow of the late afternoon sun bathed the shoreline in warm hues as the car came to a stop in front of a small, weathered beach house. The rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore was faint but unmistakable, a background melody that you hadn’t realized you missed until now. It had been years since you’d last set foot in the Outer Banks, but as you stepped out of the car, it felt like the island hadn’t aged a single day. 

From the backseat, Liliana was practically vibrating with excitement, her little sneakers tapping against the edge of the seat as she craned her neck to take in the house and the stretch of sand just beyond. “Is this it? Are we here? Is the beach right there? Can we go now?” Her words tumbled out in a rush, her face lit with pure anticipation. JJ had really hyped this up for her. 

JJ chuckled as he opened the trunk, throwing you a knowing glance. “Told you she wouldn’t be able to sit still the second we got here,” he teased, slinging a couple of bags over his shoulder. He leaned into the car to unbuckle Liliana, who was already wriggling like she could free herself. “Hold your horses, Lily! The sand’s not going anywhere.” 

“As if you didn’t spend the entire day filling her head with stories,” you shot back, grabbing your bag and giving him a pointed look. He just shrugged, flashing that lopsided grin of his that always brought out his dimples. 

“And I’d do it all over again,” he said, stepping closer, the playful glint in his eye unmistakable. 

Your brow shot up. “Oh, would you now?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with mock solemnity, scooping Liliana out of the car like she weighed nothing. 

The moment her feet hit the ground, Liliana shot forward like a firework, running a few steps before skidding to a halt and turning back to you both. Her face was a mix of wonder and worry. “But what if the waves get too big and take all the sand away?” she asked, her big eyes wide with concern. 

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you shut the car door. “That’s not how beaches work, sweetheart.” 

JJ walked over, effortlessly lifting Liliana back into his arms. Her little arms wrapped tightly around his neck, and her free hand pointed enthusiastically toward the dunes. “Come on, uncle JJ! You promised to show me the secret seashell spots!” 

He adopted an exaggeratedly serious expression, as if carefully considering her words. “Oh, you mean the super secret ones? The ones where mermaids leave their treasures?” 

The sharp intake of breath Liliana let out was so dramatic that you were sure the neighbors heard it. “Mermaid treasures? Really? You never told me that before!” She wriggled, trying to break free to race toward the beach. 

JJ held her a little tighter, laughing. “Easy, kiddo. First, we have to go over the beach rules. Right, Ma?” 

You arched an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms with a faint smirk. “Oh, there are rules now? This is news to me.” 

JJ grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he bounced Liliana lightly in his arms. “Rule number one: You always stick with your beach buddy.” He gave Liliana a small shake for emphasis. “And guess what? I’m your official beach buddy. Certified pro.” 

Liliana nodded seriously, like he’d just shared the most important information of her young life. “Got it. Beach buddy. What’s rule two?” 

JJ tilted his head like he was deep in thought, but you could tell he was stalling. He clearly hadn’t expected her to press for more. The realization made you stifle a laugh. 

“Rule two…” He trailed off, then snapped his fingers like he’d just remembered. “Oh, right! Never, ever leave the beach without finding the perfect seashell for your mom.” 

The warmth in your chest spread so quickly it was almost overwhelming. You didn’t even try to hide your smile. “A very important rule,” you said softly. 

“And no going into the water without our say-so,” you added, shooting JJ a quick look. He nodded firmly in agreement, giving Liliana a playful kiss on the cheek. 

“Got that, sweet pea? Most important rule of all,” he said, his voice gentler now. 

Liliana turned to you with the most serious expression her tiny face could muster. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll find the prettiest one for you. Maybe even a mermaid shell!” 

When JJ finally set her down, she took off again, her little feet leaving chaotic patterns in the sand as she dashed toward the dunes. JJ stepped beside you, setting the bags down as he followed your gaze. 

“Is everything okay?” he asked quietly, his hand brushing yours in that casual, familiar way that always made your stomach flutter. 

You glanced at him, sunlight catching the angles of his face in a way that was almost unfair. Beneath his usual playful demeanor was that rare sincerity that always left you a little breathless. “She already loves it,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Liliana’s excited shout broke through the moment. She stood at the edge of the dunes, waving frantically. “Come on, slowpokes! We’ve got mermaid treasures to find!” 

JJ nudged your shoulder and leaned in, planting a quick kiss on your cheek. “You heard the boss.” 

And just like that, the two of you trailed after her, leaving the bags behind for now. As you watched Liliana’s tiny figure dart across the vast expanse of sand and sky, the weight of your old worries began to fade. 

With JJ and Liliana by your side, the past didn’t seem so heavy anymore. Their laughter and joy had a way of grounding you, steadying you like nothing else could. Almost like a balm for every wound you thought would never heal.

-

The soft rays of morning sunlight filtered through the expansive windows of Cameron Development's conference room. Rafe sat at the head of the table, pretending to listen to the consultant leading the meeting. Carefully crafted slides lit up the large screen, their graphs and figures giving the room a heavy, serious air. But Rafe’s mind was far removed from the dense mathematics on display.

He absently twirled the pen in his hand, his fingers tapping a rhythmic pattern on the table. The others in the room were focused—scribbling notes, nodding in agreement, and asking sharp questions. Yet Rafe felt as though he were sealed off in a bubble of silence, alone amidst the crowd. Inside, a weight lingered—indescribable and unshakable, like an itch beneath the skin.

“Mr. Cameron, the cost analysis for this property is displayed in the following chart...” a voice began, pulling him out of his thoughts. The woman's words, however, sounded distant, as if she were speaking from another room. Rafe’s eyes flicked to the screen, but the numbers meant nothing. They blurred together like meaningless symbols.

After a moment, his assistant Jasmine leaned over and whispered, “Mr. Cameron, is everything all right?” 

Startled, Rafe tore his gaze from the screen and looked at her. He straightened in his chair, shaking his head. “Yes, go on,” he replied, his voice harsher than he intended. Jasmine recoiled slightly before retreating, returning to her notes as the presentation continued.

But that unease—that suffocating sense of discontent—had been with him all morning. Even as he sipped his coffee earlier, he’d tried to pinpoint its source and come up empty. Maybe it was the wine he’d indulged in last night. Or the muggy weather. Yet, deep down, he knew it was neither. This wasn’t the usual stress of work. It felt like a harbinger of something unknown.

He was tired of certain things. Years ago, he’d envisioned this life differently. But now, as his father Ward Cameron prepared to pass the company to him in just a few months, Rafe couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been chasing the wrong dream. Gaining his father’s approval had been the ultimate goal for years, and now that it was within reach, he wasn’t sure he wanted it anymore.

What did he want? He couldn’t answer that either. But he knew it wasn’t this monotonous grind. Waking up, burying himself in work, and returning home late at night to collapse into bed—it was draining him. He missed having a life.

He felt like a machine. His hangouts with Kelce and Topper had dwindled. There was no one special in his life. Occasionally, they played golf, only to part ways afterward. 

Not that he wanted his old life back. The endless partying had lost its appeal long ago. He was closer to thirty than twenty. 

Parties were for the young, and he wasn’t young anymore. His life revolved around work now. But even so, he wished for something resembling balance. 

No one forced him to work until midnight—he chose it. He could leave at a normal hour, like everyone else. But then he’d just be another employee in his father’s eyes. And yet... he couldn’t tell if his father’s opinion even mattered to him anymore.

The meeting finally wrapped up. As the attendees trickled out, Rafe stayed seated, leaning against the edge of the table and staring out the window. The city outside was alive, its energy a stark contrast to the sterile stillness of the office. Cars passed, people chatted. It was just another day for them. For Rafe, nothing felt ordinary anymore.

He heard Jasmine approach but didn’t turn to her. His gaze remained on the street. Outer Banks moved at its own pace, a rhythm he’d forgotten how to follow. “What’s next on the schedule, Jasmine?”

“There’s a site visit this afternoon, and a meeting at five,” she replied. He nodded, not saying anything more. Taking the cue, Jasmine stepped away.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Fishing it out, he saw Topper’s name flash on the screen. With a resigned sigh, he answered, “What is it, Topper? I’m busy.”

Grabbing his wallet and car keys from the table, Rafe listened as his old friend’s voice came through, casual and unapologetic. “Man, you’re always busy. It’s boring as fuck!”

Suppressing an eye roll, Rafe considered hanging up. Topper could be exhausting.

Unlike Rafe, Topper hadn’t taken on any family responsibilities. He lived off his parents’ wealth, hosting parties and drinking himself into oblivion on his yacht. It was the life Rafe used to lead, now a distant memory.

“If you’ve called for no reason, I’m hanging up. I’ve got work to do,” Rafe said, heading toward the elevator. He nodded briefly at a few passing colleagues, their polite smiles a reminder of his carefully curated image.

“Don’t tell me you’re skipping my birthday, man. It’s my 25th! It’s gonna be legendary! You know that new yacht my dad got? I’m packing it full of people—drinks, music, girls—the works!” Topper’s enthusiasm was palpable. 

Rafe stepped into the elevator, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all. Five years ago, he might’ve been thrilled. Now, it felt like a relic of a life he’d already left behind.

“Topper,” Rafe said, his tone sharp with warning. He rubbed his temple, already tired of the conversation.

“Come on! It’s my birthday! We’re best friends! You can’t ditch me—it’s practically betrayal!” Topper’s mock indignation made Rafe huff out a reluctant laugh. As much as he could be a pain, Topper had been his closest friend since they were kids.

“Fine,” Rafe relented. “I’ll be there. But don’t expect much more from me.” 

Topper’s triumphant whoop on the other end made Rafe’s lips twitch into a faint smile. Annoying or not, Topper had a way of breaking through his walls.

“Bring Sarah too,” Topper added slyly. At that, Rafe’s smile vanished, replaced by a sharp furrow of his brows.

"Fuck off. You’re disgusting. She’s married, man." Rafe grimaced as he stepped out of the elevator, almost revolted. He couldn't stomach the idea of his best friend dating his sister again. Once was bad enough; thinking about it now made him queasy all over again.

"I know, I know. I was just joking. Besides, Ruthie would lose her mind if she saw us." Rafe rolled his eyes, heading toward the company entrance.

"If you think I’ll let you use my sister to make Ruthie jealous, I’ll come over there right now and break your nose." He pressed the button on his key fob to unlock his car parked at a distance.

"If that’s what it takes to get you to hang out, sure. Come on, man, I just wanna spend some time with my buddy." Rafe opened the car door and slid into the driver’s seat.

"Yeah, no. Screw off. I’ll see you tonight."

After hanging up on Topper, Rafe let out a deep sigh, though it did nothing to ease the tension gnawing at him. He stared at the phone in his hand for a moment before tossing it onto the passenger seat. 

Of course, he’d meet up with him later. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do tonight—today had already been a miserable excuse for a day. Maybe killing time with a drink and some banter would bring a flicker of color back to his gray world.

His schedule after the meeting had him heading out to scout a new piece of land, but he found himself pulling into a store parking lot instead. Maybe he needed a bottle of water, a cup of coffee—or maybe just something, anything.

He’d always hated smoking. The handful of times he’d indulged were just to blend in, and even then, he’d sworn it off years ago. Two years clean, give or take. 

But now? Now he craved something—cigarettes, coffee, maybe just a distraction. 

Music might help, or something to drown out the endless chatter in his head. He couldn't seem to live with the gnawing unease inside him. Not just live—enjoy. Life had become tasteless.

He was tired of the monotony, yet he didn’t want to fall into the reckless chaos of living without direction. He didn’t want to become like Topper—didn’t want to go back to the way things were four years ago. He’d left that life behind. Still, he couldn’t shake the hollow sense that life itself had no meaning anymore.

Wake up. Coffee. Work. Lunch. More work. Home. Sleep. Repeat.

It wasn’t that he expected something or even hoped for it. He just believed—deep down—that his life needed spontaneity, something unscripted.

When he glanced at other people’s lives, he hated the envy that simmered under his skin. He had everything—literally everything. Half the island bore his family’s name. He had the money, the yachts, the cars, the houses, and the company that would eventually be his.

Thinking back on how hard he’d tried to earn his father’s approval made him cringe. The future had already been set in stone. He would have ended up with it all anyway. Sarah had never wanted the company, not even as a backup plan. She couldn’t picture herself stuck in a 9-to-5 grind. She’d built a life with John B—a life she’d chosen.

Sarah made her choice.

But Rafe couldn’t help feeling like he’d fought too hard for the life he now had. The absurdity of struggling for something he was destined to inherit stung.

Looking at Sarah’s life now—running that local restaurant with the guy she loved, the one they built brick by brick—it was obvious she was happy. They spent their time together. And whenever Rafe saw her, she wore a smile so big it was impossible not to notice.

She enjoyed what she did. She had a purpose, a goal—not a grandiose one, but something she’d worked toward piece by piece.

Rafe had always aimed for the top. He wanted the best and wouldn’t settle for less. Every time he fell short, he hated it. But Sarah Cameron—now Sarah Routledge—knew how to stumble and pick herself up. She wasn’t afraid to rise slowly, setting her sights a little higher each time. Rafe, on the other hand, had always gone straight for the summit.

Sometimes he wished he could be more like her—the beloved child, the one who succeeded without trying too hard, who didn’t draw ire even when they failed.

But those thoughts felt toxic now. He no longer envied Sarah the way he had years ago. He knew her ability to be loved came from the absence of the poisonous thoughts that plagued him.

He didn’t want to look at her with bitterness or jealousy anymore. He wanted to erase those thoughts from his mind. She was his sister, and he was happy for her.

Still, he couldn’t help but admire her.

Rafe pulled his car into the convenience store’s lot and stepped out quickly, desperate for a distraction.

Every time his mind drifted to the past, it felt like his heart skipped a beat. The way he’d treated his sister—the jealousy, the reckless behavior—it was nothing short of awful. He had been a terrible person, a terrible brother.

And a terrible boyfriend.

Even if he wanted to believe those years hadn’t happened, some moments—some memories—clung to him like an unwanted shadow. During the rare moments when he let his guard down, his mind always wandered back to one thing.

Regrets and what-ifs.

His thoughts would take him there, wandering through a maze of past mistakes and fleeting happiness.

Of course, he had happy moments, as everyone did. But the happiest ones stuck with him, refusing to fade—even when he drank to forget them. 

And sometimes, he hated that. The harder he tried to drown those memories in alcohol, the sharper they became. He’d never seen himself as the kind of guy to cry drunkenly. Not until the last three years.

He clung to regrets and the potential of what could have been. He despised the ideals and fears that had once defined him. He loathed how every "truth" he’d believed in had turned out to be a lie, and how he was always the wrong person at the wrong time.

Sometimes, he couldn’t help but question and compare the choices his current self made versus the ones he’d made in the past. If he’d do it differently now. Would he, or wouldn’t he? The answer had never once changed: he’d undo every mistake. Every single one. He wouldn’t have done any of it. Not a single thing. 

She had been the right person at the right time. There was no way it hadn’t been the right time for her. But for him? Rafe wasn’t so sure. He’d been the wrong person at the wrong time—both, at once. 

Rafe stepped into the store, pulling his phone from his pocket as it buzzed with a notification. Jasmine. She was texting about some of the stakeholders causing trouble regarding the new property. 

“Perfect,” he muttered under his breath, irritation already bubbling up. He inhaled sharply, trying to calm himself. He had to think this through carefully and not let his temper get the best of him. This wasn’t some minor hiccup in his day—this was business. He couldn’t make rash decisions and screw it all up. 

He focused on steadying himself, considering what sort of issue this particular idiot might be stirring up. Was the guy testing his patience on purpose? Trying to push his boundaries? 

With another deep breath, he worked to calm the tension in his chest. Ward would have handled this with ease, but Rafe’s impulsive nature had always been his Achilles' heel. He cursed himself for it. Quickly, he typed a reply to Jasmine, asking her to cancel the evening’s meeting and schedule one with the problematic stakeholder instead. He followed up with instructions for Jasmine to stall the guy and keep things civil until then. 

As soon as the messages were sent, the sound of his own thoughts drowned out the world around him. It was like something was pulling at him, calling his name. He shoved the phone back into his pocket, trusting Jasmine to handle it. She always did. 

Looking up, he ran a hand through his hair, his gaze wandering toward the aisle ahead. That’s when he saw it—the door opening, letting in a gust of cool air. A woman walked in, a small child at her side. 

At first, he couldn’t make out her face, but something about the way she moved felt… familiar. Rafe’s heart stuttered, an inexplicable urgency creeping into his veins. He knew her. He knew her well. Or at least—he had, years ago. 

The woman stepped further into the store, placing a few items on the counter. Then, she turned. 

And Rafe froze.

You. 

It was you. He was sure of it. Nothing in his life had ever felt this certain. That face—etched into his memory, the one he used to know every detail of—was still the same, even with the faint traces time had left behind. His heart raced and sank all at once. Seeing you again, after all these years, wasn’t supposed to be this easy. 

Four years. Four long years without hearing your voice, without holding your hands. Yet you had never left his mind. Your name, your face, every moment spent with you—they were all still there, as vivid as ever. 

You had lost the golden tan you used to have, but your eyes—they spoke volumes. And your smile? God, that smile. It could kill him. A smile that big shouldn’t even be legal. 

Shit. You were still breathtaking. Rafe wanted to fall at your feet, worship you. You were still the most beautiful girl on the island, and nobody else even came close. 

He had thought about you so much. There were nights he thought he might go insane from not being able to see you. The disappointment he felt when he saw you’d removed most of your Instagram followers, leaving only a few family members, and then made your account private—it had stung more than he cared to admit. 

How many times had he stared at your profile picture, wishing he could have just one more chance to stand by your side? To go back and rewrite everything? He couldn’t count. He would’ve given up everything for a do-over. 

But then his eyes drifted to the small child by your side. His heart, which had been racing, suddenly slowed to a halt. He hadn’t noticed the little girl at first, too focused on you. She was cheerful, looking around the store with wide eyes, holding up a chocolate bar in her tiny hands. She said something to you, and you bent down with a soft smile to answer her. 

But Rafe wasn’t watching that moment of sweetness. He was staring at her face. 

Those eyes.

Rafe’s breath caught in his throat. The girl’s eyes—they were his. The same intensity, the same color, the same expression. Something deep inside him caught fire, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe properly. Everything felt so sharp and clear, yet utterly chaotic. 

He had always known this was a possibility. In the back of his mind, he had replayed your last conversation over and over. You’d told him you were drunk. He had assumed you’d terminated the pregnancy. But the thought that you might not have—that had lingered in his mind all these years. 

You’d told him you were keeping the baby. He hadn’t asked, and you hadn’t offered any more than that. 

And now, standing here, it hit him like a truck. 

A girl. 

She was his. Yours. 

Their daughter.

You lifted your head then, your eyes meeting his. And Rafe saw the panic there, the shadow of old memories and old fears. For a moment, you froze. The child clung to your leg, oblivious, as you and Rafe just stared at each other. God, he had missed looking at you. Even from a distance, he had missed seeing your face. 

But then you moved. Quickly. You grabbed the little girl’s hand and turned away, your other hand carrying the bag of groceries. You headed toward the exit without looking back. 

Rafe stood there, rooted to the spot, as if chained in place. He wanted to call out, “Wait!” But the words stuck in his throat. He wanted to chase after you, but he didn’t know what he’d say if he did. 

The way you had left made it clear you didn’t want to talk. And he had already hurt you enough. The last thing he wanted was to reopen old wounds. 

And yet, he couldn’t stop staring after you, his heart in his throat. He’d need time to process this. To figure out what the hell he was supposed to do now.

He felt like he was drowning. All he could think about was getting out, finding air, calming himself. Memories crashing against him so vividly made it hard to breathe.

As he rushed out of the store, he tried to steady his breathing, but it didn’t help. His hands were trembling as he walked to his car.

It was as if he were drowning. He just needed to get out—out of this moment, out of this place—and catch his breath. The way his past had suddenly been thrust in his face made it hard to breathe.

He left the market in a rush, trying to control his deep, shaky breaths. His hands trembled as he walked toward his car.

---

Rafe, still struggling to process what had happened in the market, found himself standing outside Sarah's office. His knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel too hard, a physical reflection of the chaos in his mind. He had seen Bella. A little girl... and now, everything was in disarray.

He didn’t think much—he couldn’t. He was looking for a safe harbor, someone to help him shoulder the weight of seeing you again after all these years. The missed chances, the regrets—they crushed him.

He had been young then, practically a fool kid. He was never sure if the decision he’d made was the right one.

So, without a second thought, he drove to Sarah. He knew he couldn’t go to Topper. Topper wouldn’t understand—he didn’t even know about the baby. And even if he did, he was too shallow to handle something this big. Kelce wouldn’t get it either; he’d just tell Rafe to let it go. That left Sarah as his only option.

Despite the fact that Sarah could be insufferably annoying sometimes, Rafe knew she would understand. Unlike him, she was good with emotions. She could empathize and offer sound advice. She was the only one who could talk him through this.

No matter how much she had changed, when it came to you, Rafe knew Sarah would hesitate to steer him wrong. This wasn’t some trivial matter—it was serious. It was about the woman he had once loved. 

When Rafe knocked on Sarah’s door, he was a tangled mess of unease. He couldn’t get you out of his head. The way your hair had once been straight, now effortlessly wavy. The childlike look on your face had been replaced with a maturity that only made you more beautiful—almost impossibly so. You’d always been an angel in his eyes, but now? Now you seemed ethereal.

“Rafe? What’s wrong?” Sarah asked, her tone laced with worry. She was almost panicked at the sight of him. It had probably been months since her brother had shown up at her door. To see him looking so unhinged? That had been years.

“We need to talk,” Rafe said, his voice lacking its usual edge. It was almost shaky. He needed to calm down, and he needed Sarah’s clear-headedness to help him think straight.

Sarah hesitated but opened the door fully. “Of course, come in.”

Rafe walked into the living room but didn’t sit down. He shoved his hands into his pockets and paced around before facing Sarah. “I saw her today,” he blurted out. His hands, deep in his pockets, felt ice-cold despite the sweltering heat outside.

Sarah’s face froze. “Saw who?”

He steadied himself, finally saying your name. His gaze fixed on some point on the wall, far away. “She was in the market. She had a little kid with her,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. He didn’t know what to do. He ran a hand through his hair, pacing again like a trapped animal. He felt like he was losing it.

Sarah stayed quiet for a moment, a shadow of concern crossing her face. “And?” She was bracing for some sort of story—a confrontation, a drama, maybe even a fight. Watching Rafe’s agitated figure pace the room was dizzying. He needed to calm down.

“And…” Rafe shook his head slowly. “Nothing happened. Just… our eyes met. Her eyes…” He trailed off, haunted. “I couldn’t stop looking. But I told you, didn’t I? She said she called me because she was drunk. And I thought that she… that she got rid of her. I thought she—” His voice cracked. “I thought she did. I never knew for sure because we stopped talking, but I saw them today. Both of them.”

Sarah took a deep breath, trying to steady her tone. She didn’t want Rafe to catch on to her growing unease. “Rafe, I’m not sure bringing this up is a good idea.”

“I just keep thinking!” Rafe’s voice rose. “It’s not like I wanted this! She told me she was drunk—what was I supposed to think?! And now—now, after all these years, I see her, and I don’t know what to do.” He was trying to rein himself in, to pull back the storm brewing inside him. He wasn’t blaming you. He regretted the pressure he had put on you back then, hated himself for it. It had always been your choice. It always would be.

But he had spent years in limbo, stuck in a no-man’s-land between missing you and wondering what had become of you.

Sarah looked down, staying silent. But Rafe’s eyes stayed locked on her, probing. “You shouldn’t do anything, Rafe. Maybe she’s just visiting. After all, she and Liliana haven’t been here in years—”

Rafe froze. His entire body went still, and his head snapped toward Sarah. “What did you say?”

Sarah stammered, realizing too late what she’d let slip. Her lips parted in panic as she cursed herself inwardly. All she had to do was keep quiet—and she hadn’t.

“I—I mean, I just—”

“Liliana?” Rafe’s voice was ice-cold, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “Who’s Liliana?”

Rafe blinked, his mind whirring. Just moments ago, he had been pacing like a caged animal. Now, he stood stock-still, rigid as if he were a machine running out of power. The silence in the room was deafening. “Is that her name?” His voice grew sharper, angrier with Sarah’s continued silence. “How do you know her name?!”

Sarah stayed silent for a beat, her gaze dropping to the floor as she braced herself for the hell she knew was coming. Her lips opened and closed uselessly before she finally exhaled. She was screwed. “I—I mean, we—met a few times. In Asheville—”

Rafe stumbled back, almost losing his balance. He shook his head slowly. “You were meeting with her? While I was here, losing my mind, wondering if she was even alive?!” His voice cracked with fury, spiraling out of control. Sarah flinched at his rising volume, clasping her hands nervously in front of her. 

“Rafe—” Sarah started, her voice defensive. She knew she had messed up, big time. Not only had she let it slip, but now, with Rafe losing it right in front of her, she had to keep herself from blurting out everything else. Because if Rafe knew this, he’d want to know the whole truth.

“She didn’t want our family involved,” Sarah explained cautiously. “And you—”

“Stop right there, Sarah! That should’ve been my choice!” Rafe roared, his voice shaking with emotion. “I didn’t want it, fine, I’ll admit that. But that doesn’t mean you had the right to take away my chance to know her. Or— or what she’s done! You’re my sister—my own blood. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Sarah narrowed her eyes, fists clenched. It took everything in her not to hurl the closest vase at his head. “You already made your decision, Rafe! You chose to stay out of her life, to abandon her! So don’t you dare come at me now just because I didn’t fill you in on everything she’s been up to! If you cared so much, you’d have been there! Instead of partying while she was pregnant, maybe you could’ve been in the delivery room with her!”

“Oh, so I didn’t care?!” Rafe barked out a bitter laugh, his hands trembling. You had been the first person who made him believe in love, the first to show him kindness for no reason at all. The only person who made him want to be better. The only person he ever loved. “That’s your excuse? My mistakes? You think I don’t know I screwed up? Of course, I know! But since when did that give you the right to keep everything from me?”

Sarah shot to her feet, glaring daggers at him. “Oh, don’t even start with me! Since when did me being there for my niece and her mom turn into ‘keeping things from you’? Yes, I spent time with them. What was I supposed to do? Ignore them just because you didn’t want to be in the picture? Grow up, Rafe!”

“It was my choice!” Rafe yelled, his voice raw with frustration. His eyes burned with an intensity that matched his words. “But don’t you get it? I was falling apart! Every day without her—without them—was hell! And you saw it! You knew how much I loved her! You knew why I made that choice, why I did that!”

The argument had reached a boiling point. Sarah shook her head, finally stepping back, her voice quivering with quiet fury. “Oh, I remember your ‘choice,’ Rafe. The one you made to earn Dad’s approval by erasing her and the baby. That’s what we’re talking about, right? Own it for once!” Her voice dripped with venom, though her expression was eerily calm. She was done yelling.

At this point, she didn’t think there was anything left to defend. Rafe wasn’t the only one who had suffered. Sarah had been there. She had been there for you when you gave birth, and the father of your child wasn’t. Instead, JJ, Cleo, Pope, Kiara, John B, and Sarah herself had stood by your side. But Rafe? Nowhere to be found.

“At least when you got wasted, you had the luxury of waking up the next morning and moving on. She didn’t. Eight months after you walked out, she was leaking milk through her shirt while a baby screamed in the next room, and she was still recovering from giving birth. You left her alone, Rafe. So no, you don’t get to come in here and play the victim. I didn’t tell you, yeah. You’re damn right I didn’t.” Sarah crossed her arms, forcing herself to stay calm. Despite everything, he was still her brother.

“And you know what? I’m glad I didn’t. Because if you had even a shred of courage, you would’ve been there to find out yourself.”

Rafe froze for a moment, his chest heaving as he tried to contain himself. He took a long, shaky breath, but the anger in his eyes refused to fade. Finally, he shook his head, his jaw tight, and turned sharply toward the door. The slam echoed through the house, leaving Sarah standing there in silence.

Everything was a disaster. He hated it all—hated the situation, hated himself. But most of all, he hated that Sarah was right. 

[thecupidwitch]

Day of the Week Magickal Correspondences:

Monday

Planet: Moon

Tarot: High Priestess, Moon

Color: white, light blue, gray

Stones: moonstone, pearl, fluorite, amethyst, quartz, sapphire

Herbs: moonflower, jasmine, gardenia, white rose

Influences : astral realm, clairvoyance, creativity, dream work, emotions, family, fertility, healing the home, illumination, inspiration, intuition, love, prophecy, protection, psychic ability, travel, truth

Tuesday

Planet: Mars

Tarot: Strength, Wands (5, 6)

Color: red, orange

Stones: carnelian, ruby, bloodstone, garnet, red jasper

Herbs: basil, ginger, blak pepper, patchouli, holly, dragon’s blood, nettle, thistle, thorns, wormwood, hawthorn,

Influences : power, war, courage, agression, revenge, hexes and curses, distruction, ambition, sexual identity, sex magick, self confidence

Wednesday

Planet: mercury

Tarot: The Magician, Wheel of Fortune, Pentacles (8)

Color: blue

Stones: Agate, citrine, aventurine, sodalite, lapis, hematite, emerald

Herbs: lavender, rosemary, fern, cherry, licorice, poppy, mugwort, plantain, apple, fennel

Influences : communication, arts, change, mental power, education, divination, psychic power, divination, wisdom, knowledge, traveling, spiritual enlightenment, mischief

Thursday

Planet: jupiter

Tarot: Pentacles (ace, 9, 10)

Color: royal blue, green and purple

Stones: amethyst, sapphire, turquoise, lepidolite, sugilite

Herbs: cinnamon, sage, nutmeg, melissa, clove, honeysuckle

Influences : money, business, manifestion, justice, healing, abundance, luck, fidelity, honor, justice (legal matters), leadership, loyalty, prosperity, relationships, well-being, success

Friday

Planet: Venus

Tarot: Empress, Lovers, Cups (2)

Color: pink

Stones: rose quartz, pink tourmaline, moonstone, jade, peridot, emerald, ruby

Herbs: red hibiscus, rose, lavender, rosemary, jasmine, blue lotus, violet, birch, sage, ivy

Influences : beauty, emotions, fertility, friendship, happiness, love, passion, pleasure, sexuality, wisdom

Saturday

Planet: Saturn

Tarot: Temperance, Swords (knight, 2)

Color: Black, Gray (dark), Indigo, Purple (dark)

Stones: onyx, obsidian, smokey quartz, jet, pumice

Herbs: myrrh, moss, thyme, basil, hemlock, nettle, peppermint, pomegranate, hyacinth, mallow, juniper

Influences : banish, binding magick, death, protection, freedom, justice, karma, banishing, uncrossing magick, hexes and curses

Sunday

Planet: Sun

Color: yellow, gold

Tarot: Chariot, Sun, Wands (ace)

Stones: citrine, sunstone, pyrite, gold, goldstone, carnelian, orange calcite, tiger’s eye, amber

Herbs: sunflower, chamomile, calendula, marigold, bergamot, oak, rosemary, oregano

Influences : accomplishment, action, ambition, attraction, authority, beauty, confidence, creativity, energy (solar), fame, freedom, friendship, goals, personal growth, healing, hope, illumination, justice, leadership, light, protection, spirituality

tip jar

[the-mortuary-witch]

FAMILAR’S AND THEIR MEANINGS

ALPACA: stamina, duty, courage, intrigue, patience, and tenacity.

ANT: cooperation, strategy, hard work, change, resourcefulness, and balance.

ALLIGATOR: strength, protection, rebirth, adaptability, patience, balance, and wisdom.

BEETLE: transformation, protection, strength, good luck, creation, teamwork, rebirth, and adaptability.

BUFFALO: bravery, kindness, and strength.

BAT: mystery, foresight, intuition, transition, death, rebirth, new beginnings.

BEAR: power, protection, strength,, family, vitality courage, and health.

BUTTERFLY: metamorphosis, release, and higher consciousness.

COW: abundance, luck, and trust.

CAT: witchcraft, mysticism, good luck, prosperity, mystery, independence, and intuition.

CROW: transformation, mystery, foresight, change, death, creation, and spiritual strength

COYOTE: transformation, adaptability, intelligence, cunning, intelligence, and adaptability.

DRAGON: wisdom, power, supernatural power, strength, hidden knowledge, and protection.

DOVE: love, peace, transformation, and freedom.

DEER: kindness, transformation, sensitivity, intuition, and gentleness.

DOLPHIN: joy, transformation, wisdom, harmony, freedom, intuition, and a deep connection with the mysteries of the ocean.

DRAGONFLY: luck, intelligence, grace, and meditation.

DOG: loyalty, protection, transformation, guidance, fidelity, faithfulness, alertness, and love.

EAGLE: power, freedom, transformation, honesty, truth, majesty, strength, courage, wisdom, and power.

ELEPHANT: loyalty, power, wisdom, fertility, good luck, success, and experience

FOX: cunning, trickery, mischief, transformation, playfulness, and resilience.

FROG: transformation, magic clairvoyance, wealth, and abundance.

FALCON: strength, power, transformation, vision, freedom, and victory.

GRIFFIN: transformation, protection, wisdom, strength, military, courage and leadership.

GOAT: confidence, loyalty, and independence.

HEDGEHOG: protection, magic, healing, resourcefulness, protection, wisdom, and adaptability.

HORSE: strength, power, transformation, independence, freedom, nobleness, endurance, confidence, triumph, heroism and competition.

IGUANA: transformation, adaptability, magic, confidence, healing, awareness, and curiosity.

JAGUAR: power, transformation, magic, strength, ferocity, and courage.

KOALA: playfulness, transformation, gentle nature, calmness, harmony with nature, and adaptability.

LION: power, courage, transformation, courage, nobility, royalty, strength, stateliness and valour.

LIZARD: dreams, healing, and survival.

MOUSE: stealth, transformation, wisdom, resourcefulness, intelligence, and adaptability.

MONKEY: transformation, joy, mischief, loyalty, intelligence, community, and family.

MOOSE: strength, patience, and surrender.

MOTH: intuition, transformation, adaptation, love, and trust.

OWL: wisdom, intelligence, transformation, mystery, and protection.

OTTER: individually, joy, and flexibility.

PHOENIX: transformation, renewal, immortality, resurrection and life after death.

PIG: transformation, luck, prosperity, and abundance.

PANTHER: power, protection, transformation, mystery, and strength.

PORCUPINE: boldness, defence, and god nature.

PIGEON: group cooperation, resourcefulness, and freedom.

PENGUIN: endurance, survival, closeness, family, spirituality, resilience, and adaptability.

RABBIT: fertility, transformation, luck, gentleness, abundance, and prosperity.

ROOSTER: pride, bravery, and confidence.

RACCOONS: assertiveness, disguise, intelligence, and mischief.

RAT: stealth, protection, magic, riches, procreation, fertility, spirituality, knowledge, infirmity, death, the passage of time, enmity, and destruction.

RAVEN: mysticism, prophecy, insight, intelligence, transformation, and ancient wisdom.

SWAN: beauty, grace, transformation, innocence, peace, serenity, fidelity and kindness.

SQUIRREL: lightheartedness, preparation, and resourceful.

SPARROW: community, friendship, cooperation, and family.

SNAKE: healing, transformation, protection, fertility, rebirth, renewal and immortality.

SPIDER: creativity, fate, magic, balance, creativity, curiosity, wonder, and growth.

TIGER: power, transformation, courage, protection, vitality, strength and unpredictability.

TOAD: witchcraft, fertility, healing, abundance, renewal, vitality, and good luck.

UNICORN: spirit nature, innocence, transformation, purity, and power in Celtic mythology.

WOLF: strength, independence, power, loyalty, guardianship, teamwork and wildness.

ZEBRA: confidence, transformation, stability, balance, harmony, and unity.

[retropopcult]

1958

[shambelle97]

Avvertenze: 

Contenuti espliciti

꧁ MY MASTERLIST ꧂

Loki si concesse una passeggiata mattutina, percorrendo i vasti giardini di palazzo con innata sicurezza e disinvoltura.

In lontananza notò Sigyn in compagnia del suddetto promesso sposo, sbuffando nervosamente.

Detestava che il rozzo capitano degli Einherjar le ronzasse intorno pur essendone costretto a causa dei doveri matrimoniali.

Dopotutto ebbe modo di renderla sua svariate volte, donandole piaceri inimmaginabili.

Eppure non sopportava l’idea che un simile individuo potesse mettere le sudicie mani in qualunque angolo del suo grazioso corpo.

Theoric Elvindson non l’avrebbe mai davvero avuta, di questo era più che certo.

D’altronde compì l’azzardo di tradirla con una delle tante ancelle che s’aggiravano per il castello.

Non appena costui osò allontanarsi, il Dio dell’Inganno colse l’opportunità per punzecchiarla e sedurla com’era solito fare.

Avanzò in maniera felpata e docile, riscuotendola dai suoi pensieri.

“Non dovrebbe essere qui.”

Esordì stizzita la bella Vanir, perdendosi nelle sue gemme smeraldine e tanto brillanti da imbarazzarla.

“Sono piuttosto celebre nel trasgredire le norme, non lo dimentichi mai.”

Ribatté impertinente l’Asgardiano dalla chioma d’ebano, ghignando malizioso.

Bramava all’idea di possederla sotto la grande quercia, immaginando scenari lussuriosi oltremisura.

Eseguire uno sgarro nei confronti dello stolto Theoric sarebbe stato divertente, nonché gratificante.

Dovette riacquisire contegno non appena la giovane donna propose di sdraiarsi sull’erba assieme a lui.

Un invito che accettò con lieve esitazione, contemplando il cielo limpido.

Rammentò i vecchi tempi d’infanzia vissuti con Thor mentre si cimentavano in giochi di spericolata natura.

Sorrise appena, cullato dalla breve brezza ventosa.

Chiuse le iridi, provando a rilassarsi: necessitava quei piccoli attimi di quiete che raramente i doveri reali gli consentivano.

Sigyn osservò l’oscuro principe della cittadella eterna, fissandone ogni singolo dettaglio.

L’armatura nera dagli inserti dorati e la foggia verde spiccò sotto i raggi del sole, rendendolo più maestoso e intrigante.

Era maledettamente attraente e irresistibile, detenendo un’incredibile arguzia e sagacia.

Che ci fosse finita persino a letto più e più volte non le fu d’alcun aiuto, trascinandola in situazioni ardue e complicate.

Ciononostante avvertiva l’intensa attrazione verso il cadetto di Asgard, conducendola spesso in sentieri proibiti.

Dopo la prima passionale notte avvenuta durante i festeggiamenti del solstizio estivo, il loro rapporto subì una svolta inaspettata.

Da sempre battibeccavano animatamente per poi imboccare le vie più insidiose della libidine, lasciandosi andare disperati.

Ella iniziò a carezzargli la mascella sbarbata; un tocco leggero e delicato da ridestarlo dal breve riposo.

Fu lesta a guardarla coi suoi occhi protervi e penetranti, mettendola in soggezione.

I capelli d’oro intrecciati dall’acconciatura floreale le donavano un portamento etereo.

Purezza oramai macchiata da un cuore malvagio dall’anima annerita.

L’Ase gravò sopra di lei, stabilendo un contatto fisico che non avrebbe mai dovuto esserci.

Si soffermò sulle dolci e morbide labbra, gustandole casto.

La dama non oppose resistenza, permettendone l’accesso.

Mugugnarono estasiati, desiderosi l’uno dell’altra.

“Finge di non sopportare la mia ingannevole presenza, eppure non perde tempo a lasciarsi travolgere dal caos.”

Soffiò lungo il collo, chinandosi a lambirlo e baciarlo in modo avido.

L’Amica della Vittoria sospirò profondamente, emettendo un gemito sommesso.

“Così fedele alla propria patria e agli affetti più cari, ma al contempo ribelle e disubbidiente a doveri tanto ingiusti.”

Sussurrò suadente, provocandole una densa scia di fremiti.

Un’insana e corrosiva gelosia che lo infiammava sin dentro le viscere.

“Sono costretta a sposarlo, lo sa bene.”

Rispose flebile, pervasa dall’estremo godimento scaturitone dall’intrepido amante.

Il Fabbro di Menzogne riprese a torturare la carne rosea della bocca, zittendola prontamente.

Odiava lo stolto Theoric più di quanto credesse.

Molte donne incrociarono le lenzuola dell’Ingannatore, però solo la figlia di Vanaheim riusciva ad appagare a pieno tutti i suoi sensi.

Era in grado di farlo sentire vivo inconsciamente.

Squadrò in seguito lo splendido girocollo, regalatole in segreto durante uno dei loro incontri clandestini.

 Un gioiello capace di risaltarne la bellezza.

“Sei bella, Sigyn…e soprattutto mia.”

Cantilenò Lingua D’Argento in tono informale, evitando di lasciarsi sfuggire quel pronome rischioso.

La Vanir non ammise repliche, beandosi del timbro roco e tentatore emesso dal Signore della Menzogna.

Il mago più potente tra gli Æsir le scostò la spallina sinistra dell’abito dorato, ardendo a strapparglielo di dosso.

Suggé la punta del seno sodo e rotondo, mordendole il capezzolo.

“Non possiamo farlo qui.”

Bisbigliò supplichevole la bionda, ansimando libidinosa.

Loki interruppe l’azione, ridacchiando divertito.

“Teme che occhi indiscreti possano vederci, nevvero? Che mormorino negativamente dei nostri frequenti incontri, suscitandone lo scalpore generale?”

Incalzò rallegrato della faccenda, continuando con la piacevole tortura.

“Non provo agio a giacere con un uomo in determinate circostanze.”

Puntualizzò Sigyn, intuendo che lo scapestrato principe degli Asi avesse già sperimentato qualcosa di simile in passato.

Non nascose di esserne scandalizzata, dimostrando la propria pudicizia caratterizzata da un’improvvisa timidezza.

Loki avrebbe comunque ricorso al Seiðr, tutelando le loro presenze dai passanti se lei avesse acconsentito.

Dovette accettare che la figlia del Generale Bjorn non fosse propensa a vivere esperienze del genere, esaudendo infine la richiesta.

Si precipitarono all’interno delle regali camere appartenenti al secondogenito della corona, travolti da un’irrefrenabile bramosia.

I baci già insaziabili s’intensificarono, rimuovendo con foga i rispettivi indumenti.

La Dea della Fedeltà fu baciata ferocemente dallo scaltro bugiardo senz’alcun remore.

Ambedue si gettarono con poca grazia sul giaciglio drappeggiato da fodere color smeraldo, ricamate da sottilissimi fili d’oro.

I folti riccioli corvini solleticarono la pelle nuda della fanciulla, invocando il suo nome.

“Gema per me, Lady Sigyn: non si trattenga quand’è dinnanzi al principe cadetto di Asgard.”

Esortò la beffarda divinità, proseguendo con le sue furiose cure, dilettandosi a farla impazzire.

Dopodiché stuzzicò la femminilità della fanciulla, rovente e focoso.

Sigyn pregò affinché continuasse a saggiarne la carne umida, urlando a pieni polmoni.

L’Ase se ne beò, consapevole che nessun altro pretendente avrebbe potuto soddisfarla al meglio.

Piaceri carnali che soltanto il figlio minore dei sovrani le avrebbe concesso con prodigiosa maestria.

Loki scrutò le belle e sinuose curve della ragazza, ammirandole incantato.

Non poteva cederla al lercio capoguardia della reggia asgardiana, per quello avrebbe escogitato qualsiasi stratagemma.

Tornò a baciarle le labbra, intraprendendo un’erotica danza tramite le loro lingue.

La Vanir invertì le posizioni, prendendo le redini di quel gioco tanto allettante e perverso.

I candidi pettorali del Dio si rivelarono una zona erogena, eccitandolo più del dovuto.

 Situazione che sperimentò in antecedenza, considerandolo uno dei suoi punti deboli e sensibili.

Ancheggiò sui fianchi asciutti e aitanti del guerriero, piagnucolando e gridando come una forsennata.

Le sue mani strinsero i seni con forza, strappandole violenti gemiti di pura voluttà.

Il Fabbricante di Bugie rantolò estasiato, dischiudendo le palpebre per guardarle il viso contorto dal piacere.

“Mia piccola e spregiudicata Vanir, tu sai sempre come condurmi alla rovina.”

Pensò lui mentre la sua amante dalla chioma lucente lo appagava carnalmente.

Ella si chinò a baciarlo, venendo ricambiata.

Il moro cambiò nuovamente posizione, strofinando la virilità sulla sua invitante apertura in maniera dispettosa.

“Invochi il mio nome, implorandone l’assoluto desiderio.”

Bisbigliò duro e imperioso al tempo stesso, trasparendo tuttavia una velata supplica.

Era pronta ad accoglierlo, vogliosa d’averlo dentro di sé.

I corpi dei due amanti aderirono alla perfezione, fondendosi in un’unica essenza.

Gli affondi cominciarono lenti e cadenzati, divenendo sempre più selvaggi e veementi.

Sigyn pronunciò il nome dell’uomo, graffiandogli le ampie spalle.

Loki eseguì altrettanto, digrignando i denti per lo sforzo.

Amava vederla così recettiva e disponibile, totalmente in balìa del suo potere.

Dominanza che anch’ella esercitava inconsapevolmente su di lui, rendendolo schiavo a propria volta.

 Raggiunsero l’orgasmo in simultanea, crollando sfiniti per via dell’amplesso consumato.

I volti ansanti, sudati e arrossati ne erano la prova più concreta ed evidente.

Si scambiarono un bacio colmo di passionalità, accompagnato da un’insolita tenerezza.

L’Ingannatore non poteva tollerare che uno stupido vincolo matrimoniale ostacolasse i reciproci bisogni di entrambi.

Bisogni che non riguardavano solo rapporti puramente fisici, ma qualcosa di più profondo che faticavano a pronunciare.

“Non ha tutti i torti, Altezza: la vostra presenza mi conforta, nonostante sia esasperante a volte.”

Ammise giocosa, facendo sorridere il cadetto.

“Lieto di sentire tale riconoscenza: finché non convolerà a nozze con quel miserabile soldatino, disporrà di ottimi privilegi. Proporrei inoltre di ricorrere a toni meno formali e più confidenziali.”

Suggerì genuino, arrotolando le ciocche bionde della Vanir attorno al dito.

Ella dissentì mesta, spiegandone il motivo.

“Per il bene di entrambi è meglio proseguire coi formalismi, mio signore. Una volta sposata con quell’essere ripugnante, non potrò più trascorrere del tempo piacevole con lei.”

Loki incassò il colpo con eleganza, non insistendo sulla questione.

L’avrebbe comunque resa sua altre innumerevoli volte, infischiandosene delle conseguenze.

Si amarono di nuovo, stavolta dolcemente.

Qualunque traccia conflittuale svanì nel nulla, evolvendosi in una relazione di assoluta complicità.

    𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒆

One Shot:

~ Mischief And Fidelity ~

Name Chapter:

~ Obstacles ~

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Reference: 5 Symbols

for your next poem/story (pt. 3)

CAULDRON

In understanding symbols, sometimes it is useful to simply look at the shape and see what it resembles.

The traditional cauldron represents nothing so much as the belly of a pregnant woman and, unsurprisingly, it is an important female symbol all over the world.

The circular shape of the cauldron gives another clue; the circle is a symbol of never-ending life and regeneration, and these themes recur repeatedly in stories containing cauldron symbolism.

The way the cauldron is used also gives a hint about its symbolic meaning.

Things are put into the cauldron, heated, and something different is taken out; the basic ingredients are transformed.

Therefore, the cauldron also symbolizes germination and transformation.

Traditionally, cauldrons have three legs:

The number 3 in this instance represents the triple aspect of the Great Goddess, or the three fates.

Shakespeare alludes to this when the three Weird Sisters—arguably the most famous witches in literature—cook up trouble at the beginning of Macbeth.

In pre-Christian literature, countless legends feature magical cauldrons, and it may be because of this that the cauldron has its witchy associations.

Celtic tales tell of cauldrons that contain an unending supply of food or of knowledge.

The dead are frequently thrown into a magical Cauldron of Rebirth and climb out the next day, alive once more.

Mythical warriors and heroes who died in battle are restored to life in this way.

Ceridwen (one of the most powerful witches in all of Celtic mythology and is typically depicted as simultaneously a mother and a wise woman) had a cauldron full of inspiration and magical powers.

In India, a magic life-giving food, called Soma, was brewed in three huge bottomless cauldrons.

In Greece, there are tales in which an ordeal of initiation involves the person boiling in a cauldron, but after the rite, the initiate emerges with magical powers, including the gift of immortality.

CHNOUBIS

The Chnoubis is a hybrid creature, with the head of a lion and the tail of a serpent.

It was carved onto stones for use as an amulet, providing protection against poisons in particular.

Amulets featuring the Chnoubis date back to the first century and it is supposed that this odd-looking creature may be related to Abraxas, whose image was used in a similar way.

CLADDAGH

The Claddagh is a popular symbol, often incorporated into the design of rings.

Traditionally used as a wedding ring, it is so-called because it was originally made in a Galway fishing village of the same name in 17th century Ireland.

However, the elements of the design are much older, stretching back into pre-Christian Celtic history.

The Romans had a popular ring design, the Fede, which featured clasped hands.

“Fede” means “fidelity.”

The Claddagh symbol features a heart held by a pair of hands.

A crown usually surmounts the heart.

These features represent love, friendship, and loyalty.

CORNUCOPIA

Also called the Horn of Plenty, the cornucopia is often depicted in paintings and on friezes where it symbolizes the notion of boundless abundance, as flowers, fruits, sheaves of wheat, and other produce spill out of a hollow horn or a twisting basket woven in the shape of the horn.

The origin of the cornucopia is found in the Greek myth of Amalthea.

Amalthea fed the infant Zeus a drink of goat’s milk and was given the brimming goat’s horn as a reward.

Sometimes the infant Zeus is depicted being fed the milk from the horn itself.

The Cornucopia, as a symbol of a bounteous harvest, is also associated with Ceres, the Goddess of corn, and also with Fortuna, Goddess of good fortune.

CROSSROADS

In fairy stories and myths, it is often at the crossroads where mischief awaits, usually in the form of other-worldly spirits.

Effectively, the crossroads symbolizes the intersection of two paths, making four potential routes, and a place where a decision must be made, not only practically, but metaphorically too.

The X of the crossroads marks a spot where two worlds meet.

The origins of this story go back to African folklore, where a deity called Esu was the guardian of the crossroads.

When Christianity took over, these old Gods were, quite literally, demonized, and Esu was transformed into the Devil.

Hecate, too, personified as the Queen of the Witches, was called the Goddess of the Crossroads.

In Celtic mythology, corpses belonging to those considered “unholy” were buried at crossroads in order to prevent them coming back to life and because the crossroads was a Gate to the Otherworld. Gibbets were placed at crossroads for the same reason.

Source ⚜ More: On Symbols ⚜ Writing Notes & References

[manorpunk]

1️⃣

In the White House press briefing room in the year 2069, the presidential lectern was alight for the first time in decades. On the dais, hidden behind thick blue curtains, a series of lenses came to life, powered by thrumming machines the size of cabinets. In the beauty of the lilies, Christ was born across the sea, The light from the lenses reflected along an array of precision mirrors, engineered down to the nanometer, reflecting and warping the light, directing every beam to a spot just behind the lectern. A shimmering orb of color began to grow and take shape. It was a hologram, the first of its kind in quality and fidelity, but needing time to form. With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me… The hologram grew, like a multicolored egg, until it took the shape of a body - a woman’s body, thin but not too thin, tan but also pale, tall but not too tall or too short, a work of perfection as delicately engineered as the machinery that created it. The Mary Jane shoes, the pleated skirt, the puffy blouse with Juliet sleeves. The cherry-red hair with a big white bow on top. The baby blue eyes with little white five-pointed stars for pupils. For better or for worse, the USA’s decades-long interregnum was drawing to a close. As He died to make men holy… With a thrum of light, the hologram was now displaying at one-hundred percent fidelity. The first president of the American League, a rough and discordant coalition of states that had emerged from the fall of the United States federal government, newly embodied with vague and untested powers in the transition out of provisional government, was an anime girl vtuber. Let us die to make men free, While God is marching on! She smiled. It was a wide, sharp smile, like the letter v, brimming with barely-concealed pride, the smile of someone who was always up to mischief, but never too much. She turned her head, letting the cameras see it from every angle, waving and winking as the booming chorus of Glory, Glory, Hallelujah faded into the background. “And we’re back, folks!” she said. Her voice was light and airy, like a rich pastry or a strong dose of anesthetics.  “In case you’ve been living under a rock for these past few years, I’m Sunny Roosevelt: winner of Miss Vtuber North America 206X, named ‘America’s Cloth Mother’ by the GLN Worldwide Weekly, and now, your president!” The ‘living under a rock’ comment wasn’t a rhetorical gesture; a non-negligible amount of people in the former USA had spent the past few years under some form of rock, whether that was an apocalypse bunker, abandoned basement, or literal rock. “Folks, I know it’s been a rough couple decades for America. There was mass infrastructure failure, natural disasters, zombie COVID, falling real estate prices, and I’m pretty sure most of Florida’s still underwater. But that - ends - here!” she thumped her fist on the podium. “Because I love America. I love America so much I am kissing America with tongue. To all my loyal voters, followers, and subscribers, my promise to you, now that I’m here…” her eyes narrowed and slanted sharply as she gripped the podium and leaned closer. “...big things are coming.”

[hollustu]

tag dump. feel free to keep scrolling.

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · out of fidelity. // ooc. ˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · loyal to a few. // promos. ˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · remember me fondly. // self promo. ˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · passages in time. // prompts. ˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · a sweet face is not all this flower is. // headcanons. ˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · the goddess of fidelity herself. // sigyn. ˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · her loyalty is not fickle ... but not free. // isms. ˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · a smile that lit up a room ... and the tears that drown. // musing. ˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · verse. 01. // the loyal wife to the god of mischief. ˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · verse. 02. // the queen of asgard. ˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · verse. 03. // she sold her soul so he could live. ˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · verse. 04. // the world belongs to the dead.

[november-rayne]

*EDITED TO ADD ONE-SHOT LINKS AT THE END*

Chapter Thirty-Four: Epilogue

Summary: The tidy little bow on our GIFT.

Dordi is a Norse or Norwegian name which means a gift from God. Dordi would be around age four in human years.

Word Count: 4550

Rating: Explicit

*This story is for mature audiences only.* 18+

*Minors DNI*

Tags: Explicit descriptions of sex. Pregnancy kink. Domestic fluff. Family fluff

Chapter Index

A FEW CENTURIES LATER…

The consistent bumping against his arm pulled him out of sleep slowly. He smiled in his sleepy haze as he scooted even closer to his wife, rubbing his hand over her belly.

“They have been at it all night,” Sigyn grumbled, backing into him so he could hold her tighter.

Loki chuckled, eyes still closed, “What time is it?”

“Almost time for me to wake Dordi,” she lamented, exhausted.

“Did you get any sleep at all?” He smiled as a strong kick bumped into his palm.

“Ooh,” she hissed. “Very little. I am unsure who is more determined to keep me awake, you or your sons.”

“Mmm…” Loki ran his hand from her belly to her hip, down her thigh, and up the inside of her leg. He moaned as he recalled the events of the night before.

“If I recall correctly, it was you who invited me into your bubble bath.” He grinned as he felt her shiver under his touch. “I can hardly be blamed for your insatiable appetites.” She pushed her hips back and rubbed her bottom on his growing erection.

“Mmm…” He ran his hand up from her leg to her breasts, so full and round.

“No,” she moved his hand from her aching breasts to the apex of her thighs, “here.” She turned her face to the pillow, exposing more of her neck to him.

He placed slow, wet kisses down her neck and across her shoulder as he ran his fingers gently over the soft curls covering her mound. She lifted her leg and slung it over Loki’s behind her, giving him more access to her sex.

Reaching back, she ran her fingers through his hair and held the back of his head as he continued to cover her in kisses.

“Quickly, lover. We do not have much time.”

Loki grunted. He hated being rushed. Making love to his wife usually took hours, from the preamble of coy flirting to the soft caresses and kisses to the teasing. He loved every aspect of the buildup to the multiple trips over the edge. He loved pleasuring her and being close to her; he treated it like a sacred ceremony, strengthening their bond.

“Let her sleep in this morning.” He ran one slender finger along her cleft.

“Then she will not be tired at bedtime. Oh…” she gasped as Loki slipped the finger inside her folds, gathering the slickness and moving it to her clit.

“She can skip her nap.”

“Then she will be overtired and cantankerous all afternoon. Loki, we-”

“Hush, wife. Let me enjoy your body for a few moments. We can discuss our daughter after.” He pressed tight circles over her nub.

She gasped, then moaned. The twins were due any day now, and Sigyn’s body was responsive to even the slightest touch. It was not long before he had worked her up into quite a frenzy.

“Please, Loki.”

“Oh, I do love it when you beg.”

“Please, Loki, please. I need you.”

He shifted his body lower. She held her leg up as he guided himself to her opening and entered her from behind. Her head fell back with a moan as he filled her. “Oh, Gods, yes…”

“I am starting to think you only married me for my cock,” he hissed close to her ear as he waited for her body to adjust to him.

“You are only just now figuring that out?” She grabbed a fistful of his hair and gave it a yank, causing him to buck his hips into her.

He growled into her ear as he held her thigh up and started rutting into her, “You dirty little minx.”

“Mmm… but I am your dirty little minx.”

“Mine.” He lowered his mouth to her neck and sucked a bruise there.

“Yours,” she breathed out with a moan.

His eyes drank her in, so full with his babies. He could hardly keep his eyes off her before, but when she was pregnant, a primal desire ignited deep within him. His hands gravitated to her of their own free will. He would pull her into his lap in the dining hall, to the Queen's dismay. She eventually gave up reminding them about proper decorum in public, waving it off whenever it was brought up. He worked from home more frequently, even setting up an office for his assistant in an empty room down the hall from his chambers. He escorted Sigyn on her daily walks after breakfast. Her bump had a gravity Loki could not resist, and as her belly grew, the pull became stronger.

Attentive and doting, he would massage away the tension in her changing body, attend all her appointments with her midwife, and provide her with anything her heart desired, which mainly consisted of food and sex.

He was even the first person to touch Dordi as she came into the world, with the midwife over his shoulder instructing him on how to clear her airway and catch her as she was born.

The sight before him now, the nakedness of her skin, the look of bliss on her face, the motion of her breasts as he fucked her. He sent a silent prayer of gratitude up to the Norns for the gift of her existence.

“Touch yourself…” Loki’s hips stuttered momentarily just thinking about it. “Touch yourself and come on my cock.”

She released his hair and moved her first two fingers into her mouth, sucking on them salaciously, then moving them between her legs.

“Good girl. Now come for me.” He inhaled sharply as she clenched around him. The familiar coil of pleasure tightened inside him as he watched her hand intently. “I could come just watching you.”

He picked up his pace and intensity as her body quaked, “Lo… ki… I… I… Aaa…”

He dropped his head to her shoulder as she shuddered and convulsed around his cock.

“Good girl,” he managed to grunt out just before the flames of his own release engulfed him. He gave her everything he had as the rapid snap of his hips rocked her body. “Mmm… Norns, Sigyn.”

A thin sheen of sweat covered his upper body from his efforts. He kissed her once more on her shoulder. Panting, he slid out of her and collapsed onto his back.

Sigyn rolled herself onto her other side, facing him, placing passionate kisses on his mouth and jaw.

“I cannot wait until we can make love face-to-face again.” He leaned over and returned her kisses.

Sigyn rubbed her enlarged belly, “It will be nice to have that option again.” Loki’s hand joined hers as he felt for his boys to move.

He smirked, “I think we have lulled them to sleep.”

“Ugh. It figures,” she groaned, eyes closed.

Loki kissed her forehead, “Stay here and sleep. Labor could start any minute. You need your strength.”

“But Dordi…”

“I will get her up and ready. She can spend the morning with me. I will bring her back here for her nap after lunch.”

“You sure?” she asked, not opening her eyes.

He chuckled and kissed her again, “Send for me if you need me.”

“I love you.” She snuggled down as Loki stuffed her pillows under her belly and between her knees.

“I love you.”

oOXOo

Loki went about his morning preparations and slipped quietly from the en suite. He dried his hair with his seiðr and slipped his tunic over his head as he watched her sleep. She had not budged. Slipping out the bedroom door, he shut it gently behind him.

A maid was cleaning the windows on the balcony doors. She curtsied deeply as she saw him approach. “Your Highness.”

“The Princess is to rest today. Bring her meals to the bedroom and keep a close eye on her. Notify me immediately if she shows the slightest indication that her contractions have started.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“I will be taking the little Princess with me this morning. So, enjoy the peace and quiet while you can.” He gave her a wink.

“Yes, Your Highness.” She blushed scarlet as she curtsied.

He smirked as he turned and made his way to the second floor of their chambers, ‘I’ve still got it.’ he thought to himself as he took the stairs two at a time.

His days of seducing the staff, or anyone else for that matter, were well behind him. But it was still a nice boost to his ego when a maid’s eyes would linger on him longer than was appropriate, hear the delighted giggles of the ladies at court as he passed by, or a wanton sidelong glance from a recruit at the training grounds.

Loki quietly opened the door to his daughter’s room and pushed through the wards and enchantments he kept in place that would alert him if she came out of her room or started crying or calling for them. The room was still dark, and he tripped on a set of toys in the middle of the floor that were definitely not there when they had put her to bed.

‘Naughty little thing.’ he thought, smiling and opening her curtains, letting the bright Asgardian sunshine fill her room.

His little angel was sleeping in the middle of her bed, blankets in shambles, clinging to the plush rabbit she had named ‘Babbit.’

He watched her sleep and marveled at his little girl. The perfect mix of features from her mother and father. A thick mop of dark curls, Loki’s eyes, Sigyn’s full lips. Her cheeks were still plump from babyhood, and she had the cutest little button nose that Loki had ever seen. He was convinced that there had never been a child born more beautiful than her, his little princess.

Looking around her room, it was more than evident that she had gotten out of bed after being tucked in. Toy soldiers lined up and ready for battle on the rug beside her bed. Building blocks stacked up in the relative shape of their palace. Her tea set laid out on her little table, the baby doll guests of her impromptu tea party still in their seats. 

She must have been awake for quite some time while they thought she was sleeping. He would have to adjust the parameters of his enchantment to notify him of motion around the room as well as cries.

He smiled to himself; her mischief came to her honestly, much to Sigyn’s chagrin. He could not wait to see how she would get along with her imminent siblings. The chaotic potential of it elated him.

Even at her young age, she was already showing signs of being a natural-born leader. She was intelligent and a quick learner. She got along well with her cousins and the other children at court, leading them in games and settling squabbles as they arose.

She was a quiet observer ever since she was a baby; her eyes took in her surroundings with interest. Loki would bring her to work with him before she could even speak, and she would sit on his lap as he showed her trade routes on a map or blueprints for proposed projects around the realm.

She even accompanied him to council meetings with the King, cooing and clapping for her grandfather when she wanted his attention but otherwise sitting quietly on her father’s lap with her rabbit, taking in the conversation. She sometimes demanded her Uncle Thor, but often she would just nod off and nap against Loki’s chest, the soothing timber of his voice as he debated policy putting her right out.

Sigyn had started making headway in succession reform to allow females to inherit lands and titles. By the time Loki passes on, Dordi should be able to take up the yoke of Warden of the Northern Territory if she desires. He grinned thinking of it. He was so proud to be a part of the much-needed changes in Asgard.

He sat on the side of her bed and brushed an errant curl off her face.

Her mother had already made great strides in her short time as the princess. She opened a group home for unwed mothers. She started a network of charities and programs to help these women and orphaned girls learn to become financially capable without depending on a man to support them.

She started a petition to require employers to pay women equal wages for equal work to their male counterparts. She had recently started on a proposal to make it illegal to dismiss someone for pregnancy or any other medical condition if it didn’t affect the quality of their work.

This was all spurred on by the time she spent with Sera. After their honeymoon, Sigyn took it upon herself to see to it that Sera got her daily exercise and went with her to her appointments when she could.

Sera’s health improved quickly, and she delivered a healthy baby boy, the spitting image of his father, who was shocked but overjoyed to see the pair when he was finally tracked down and returned to the palace. Their reunion was a happy one; Jakob married Sera right away and took their little family back home to the country where his parents still lived.

Sigyn started bucking the status quo as soon as she was crowned. Starting the day after their wedding with the nuptial breakfast, which had turned into the nuptial dinner, as the wedding festivities showed no signs of slowing down as the dawn broke.

When Loki and Sigyn had finally arrived, love drunk, skin marked by each other’s passion and clinging to each other, the demands of proof of consummation were quickly shut down when the new princess stood and told the sanctimonious counselors that if the pleasant ache between her legs was not proof enough, they were welcome to follow them back to watch the inevitable next round of lovemaking that would occur as soon as they were home again.

While causing quite a stir and triggering Thor to erupt into fits of uncontrollable laughter, it was not brought up again. The King was nursing a brutal hangover and was not in the mood for the whining of his council.  By the time Thor and Sif were married, there was no mention of proof of consummation being a requirement.

Loki leaned over and placed a kiss on his daughter’s temple. If she grew up to be half the woman her mother was, she would still have a multitude of accomplishments to be proud of.

He rubbed small circles on her back, “Wake up, noodlehead.” She stirred slightly, then settled into her pillow once more.

“Wake up, my tiny Valkyrie. The sun is up. A new day has arrived.” He shook her shoulder.

She didn’t open her eyes, “Go ‘way.” 

“Dordi Lokidottir!”

Her eyes shot open as she sat up and pushed her little lip out. “Dada?”

Her first word was Dada. Muma was a distant second. It was one of Loki’s fondest memories. She had just learned to sit up on her own. Loki and Sigyn were on the floor playing with her. When Loki stood to leave the room for something, she raised her hands to him, wanting him to take her with him, and said, ‘Dada.’ She had called him Dada ever since. He knew she would eventually grow out of it, but for now, he was her Dada.

“Do you tell your mother to go away when she comes to wake you?”

“Noo,” she took a few deep breaths on the verge of tears, “I jus’ wanted more sleeps.” She rubbed one eye with her little fist.

“Are you still tired?” She nodded dramatically. “Do you suppose it was a good idea to stay up half the night playing instead of sleeping?”

She pondered his question before answering, “Babbit did it. Babbit made me get out of bed and play with him.”

Loki turned his head so that she couldn’t see him smile into his shoulder. He fought back laughter as he turned back to her.

“Dordi, is that true?” he asked her sternly as he pulled her into his lap.

She let out a dramatic sigh, “No, Babbit is a good bunny.”

“Why did you lie to me?”

She turned her face to his and smiled widely, “’Cause I don’t want to be in trouble, of course.”

“Oh, you are in trouble, little miss.” He smiled back at her as he tickled her belly. “You will apologize for sneaking out of bed, and you can have no sweets for a week.”

She pouted briefly, “Sorry, Dada.”

“You need all your sleep to grow and be strong.”

“Yes, Dada.” She threw her tiny arms around his neck and squeezed him before pulling back and asking, “Where’s Mummy?”

“Mummy is very sleepy this morning.”

“Did Mummy stay up playing too?”

Loki pressed his lips together to keep from laughing, “Yes, but that was my fault. We were having too much fun to sleep.”

“Dada,” she admonished, “no sweets for you too.”

“How about I take you to work with me today while Mummy rests?”

“Yay!” She crawled out of his lap and started jumping on the bed, holding Babbit by his ears. “We are going to work! I love work.”

Loki stood and watched her express her joy about spending the morning with him, noting that he would have to make it a more regular occurrence. “Come along, sweetheart. We have a kingdom to manage.” She hopped over to him and jumped into his outstretched arms. “Ooof. You are … so heavy…” he pretended to struggle to hold onto her as he staggered about the room. He fell onto the bed on his back with her in his arms.

She giggled loudly, “Dada…”

“I feel as if Mjolnir is on my chest.” He grunted with effort as he pretended he was trying to lift her off him.

She shrieked with laughter, “Dada! I am small, and you are strong!”

He stopped his fake efforts, “Oh yes, now I remember.” He stood with her on his chest and began tossing her into the air as she called for him to throw her higher and higher. Loki caught her for the last time, and she clung to him breathless and hiccupping.

“That was fun.” She pushed her wild curls off her face.

“Yes, it was. Now, let us do something about your puppy breath,” he said as he carried her into her bathroom.

“Dada!”

Loki helped her use the potty and clean her teeth before he asked her what she wanted to wear for the day. She chose a cap sleeve lilac dress with tiny, embroidered blossoms in white thread and a pair of white leggings to go underneath. Loki braided her hair and tied the end off with a white ribbon.

Dordi put her toys away mostly by herself. Loki made her bed with his seiðr. They collected Babbit and made their way to breakfast in the dining hall. When they got to the section of the palace where Loki’s office was, she greeted everyone by name as she passed.

Loki worked for a bit while Dordi practiced writing her name on a piece of parchment he had given her. After about an hour, she asked to see her grandfather.

“The King is holding court. We can go see Grandfather at dinner.”

“I would like to go now, please.”

“Dordi, Grandfather is working, holding court.”

“Dada? What does holding court mean?”

“When the King holds court, he sits on his throne, listens to complaints, and makes decisions for the best way to handle them.”

“Oh.” She was momentarily contemplative, “Can we go to court?”

Loki set his quill down, steepled his fingers in front of his mouth, and pretended to ponder. “Why not? Let us go to the throne room, and then we can go see Uncle Thor before lunch.”

Her little face lit up, “Oh, thank you!

oOXOo

Before entering through the side entrance to the throne room, Loki reminded Dordi to remain quiet and stay close to his side. The King was perched on this throne, Gungnir in hand, listening intently to the case laid out before him. Dordi watched with wide eyes as the proceedings took place. She cheered and clapped when Odin rendered his verdict and banged his spear to the floor.

Loki knelt to her level, “Dordi, we do not applaud the King during court.”

“Is that the Princess Dordi I hear?” Odin turned in their direction.

Dordi sprinted away from Loki to the steps below the dais, Babbit tucked under her arm. She started to take a step up before pausing. Remembering protocol, she curtsied daintily and smiled up at her grandfather.

“Rise and approach the throne.” Odin smiled despite himself as her little legs made their way up the tall steps, Loki close on her heels.

“Apologies, Father. I told her to stay close to me.” Loki bowed as he approached.

Odin laid Gungnir to the side as Dordi clambered onto his lap. “This is a pleasant surprise.”

“She wanted to come to watch court for a little while.”

“And how fares her mother? Will we be meeting the twins soon?” Odin asked as he held Dordi’s head and placed a kiss on her temple.

Dordi held a special place in Odin’s heart. She was the only girl born into their family in a very long time. Thor and Sif already had three boys of their own, and Loki and Sigyn were expecting two boys any day now. Odin doted on her every chance he got.

“She is resting today. They took turns pummeling her all through the night last night. She finally got a respite this morning. We are hoping they make their appearance soon.”

“Ah, very good. And what of our littlest princess? What has my special girl been up to lately?”

“I have been practicing my Seiðr. Do you want to see a magic trick?”

“I was just thinking that I wanted to see a magic trick. How lucky am I that you came to court today?”

“I am going to make Babbit disappear.” She wiggled her little fingers over her stuffed rabbit as she said the last word. “Do you see Babbit, Grandfather?”

“Yes. Hello, Babbit.”

She wiggled her fingers some more with a look of concentration on her face, “Now close your eye.”

Odin pressed his lips into a thin line to keep from laughing as he did as he was told. Dordi quickly hid her bunny behind her back. “Look! Babbit is gone!”

Odin looked about, feigning awe.  Dordi’s peals of laughter echoed through the vast room.

“What a powerful sorceress you are, just like your grandmother.”

She pulled Babbit from behind her back, “I tricked you! Babbit was here the whole time.”

Odin didn’t suppress his laughter this time, “You trickster! Now I see you are more like your father.”

Loki smiled as he watched the two of them together, “Come, Dordi. We should not keep the King from his work.”

She threw her little arms around his neck and kissed his cheek, “Farewell, Grandfather. I love you.”

“Jeg elsker deg, lille.” He whispered in her ear as he hugged her tight.

She scampered off his lap and curtsied again, “My King.” she giggled. He nodded to her.

Loki bowed before scooping up his daughter and returning to the exit.

Odin picked up his spear, and his stoic expression returned to his face as he called to hear the next complaint.

oOXOo

They visited the training grounds next. Her Uncle Thor kept a small wooden shield and sword set for her and practiced sparring, taking many hits with the blunt blade on his knees and thighs. When she tired of that, he set Mjolnir on the ground and laughed as she tried to lift it.

By the time they left to eat lunch, she was covered head to toe in dirt, and her hair was a mess. Loki cleaned her up with his seiðr and carried her on his shoulders to the dining hall.

They lunched with the Queen and Sif at the head table. Dordi was worn out but entertained them all with the stories of court and training. Loki had to spoon-feed her while she was in his lap as she was too tired or just unwilling to feed herself.

She was asleep in his arms as he entered their apartment. Sigyn was sitting on the sofa with her lunch plate balanced on top of her belly. Loki smirked, then placed a finger over his lips and pointed to Dordi. She nodded in understanding and watched as he carried her up to her room.

Loki joined his wife on the sofa after she was tucked in for her nap.

Sigyn rubbed her hand on his back, “How was your morning?”

Loki leaned over and kissed her lips, “Not very productive, but very entertaining.” He recounted Dordi’s adventures to her as she finished her lunch. She set her empty plate to the side, and Loki immediately scooted closer and wrapped her in his arms, rubbing circles on her belly.

“Did the boys wake you up again?”

“No, my bladder did.”

“Oh, I am sorry, my love. Hopefully, not too much longer to go.”

“I do not mind.” She smiled and ran a hand over her bump. “While I am excited to meet them, I know they will come when they are ready. I won’t rush them.”

“They are so lucky to have you as their mother.” He kissed the top of her head.

“I hope they get along as well as you and your brother.”

Loki laughed, “Thor and I have gotten into some huge brawls.”

“Yes, but you have had some excellent times together too.”

He quirked an eyebrow up to her, “Did I ever tell you about the time I convinced him to steal Father’s mead and-”

“Yes! Several times!” she slugged him on the arm. “I am not talking about drinking and whoring together. I am talking about your brotherly bond.”

“Thor did most of the drinking; I did most of the whoring,” he laughed.

She rolled her eyes, “Yes, my husband, God of Carnal Pleasure.”

“Ooooh, I like the sound of that.” He moved his hand from her belly to her thigh. “What do you say to a little worship?”

He dropped to his knees in front of her and opened her robe. She was clad in only a pair of panties and an oversized shirt. He put her legs on his shoulders and started kissing up her thighs.

She squealed and pushed the top of his head away, “Loki! Hold that thought, sir. I must pee again.”

“Fine. But make it quick.” He gave her a passionate kiss after he helped her stand up from the couch.

“I can do nothing quickly these days.” She started waddling toward the bathroom. Halfway there, she stopped in her tracks. “I just felt a pop.”

He rushed to her side, “A pop?”

Sigyn was already standing in a large puddle of water in the short time it took him to get to her. They looked at each other in stunned silence for a beat.

“Call for the midwives. The twins are on their way.”

******THE END******

Previous Chapter

AGFL ONE-SHOTS:

The Gift of the Sun

The Gift of Distraction

Tag List: @gigglingtiggerv2 @chantsdemarins @superficialdomina @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @muddyorbsblr @smolvenger @trickster-maiden @simone818283 @gruftiela @huntress-artemiss @tmlbdv @ladymischief11 @meowmeow-motherfucker @salvinaa

Thank you for coming along on this journey with me. When I started writing this for myself (over two years ago now) I had no idea how much fun I would have sharing this with others. Your sweet comments have made me laugh and cry. Thank you so much for reading this AU.

XOXO - Rayne 💚

[smolvenger]

The Boat in the Water: A Beauty and the Beast Story (Loki x Stella Ransome, An MCU/The Essex Serpent Crossover Multi-Part) Part Six

Fic Summary: Having lost her health and her husband's fidelity and love, Stella has nothing more to lose than her life. Then...she is swept away to another realm, to an enchanted castle. A castle whose master is a god...a god with a striking resemblance to her husband.

Chapter One//Chapter Two//Chapter Three//Chapter Four//Chapter Five//Chapter Six//Chapter Seven Finale (coming soon)

Chapter Summary: A black cat arrives at the Ransome house

Chapter Word Count: 4K

Chapter Warnings: Cheating, portrayed in a negative light with the Will/Cora affair (don't like, don't interact), and somewhat of emotional cheating portrayed in a positive light with our main couple (not that Stella would ever act on it, you know our girl would never). Small plot things, but this is mainly a lot of fluff with a little angst.

A/N: This is a lot of filler fluff, but the idea of Loki becoming a cat to infiltrate the Ransome house was so cute and so funny I had to write about it. So I hope you like it and think it's as cute and funny as I did! Shout out to @muddyorbsblr and @mari-malgamore and @steasstuff for letting me indulge in a Lokitty AU with the Ransomes. I also discovered too late that the show only has two of the Ransome kiddos and not all three like in the book (which makes it worse for Show! Stella because it technically means she lost three children, not just two :'( ) But for continuity's sake for the fic, John is still in.

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @anukulee @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr @mari-malgamore @steasstuff

One day in Aldwinter, a black cat had never been there before. It walked across the marshes to the white house amid a field. It strutted over with an alert tail, as cats usually do, heading to the backyard with a little stick house and a tree and tall poles with lines of laundry.

Loki couldn’t stand it. Being alone in Asgard, in his palace. He did nothing but pace for hours. He was worrying over her. Would she go back into that boat? Or hurt herself in another way? Even if she was better, still…not to mention, would she be unhappy? 

He couldn’t sit about and do nothing. He had to make sure Stella was…was…was safe, at least. That she wasn’t miserable. 

But he couldn’t do it looking like himself. Stella would recognize him and act differently. And not to mention her husband. 

He walked over. Ready for his mission. To appear like an ordinary cat no one would notice- and black to blend into shadows. And secretly glad to have a black fur coat. The air was chilly. Even for spring.

He felt confident. Smug as he could be, for a cat cannot smirk. He would simply stay outside. If anything unpleasant came up, he’d change to his Aesir form and blast it away with magic. He would wait and watch. Probably near the little hut with all of the sticks. Yes, check on her then-

“Ruff! Ruff!”

He turned at the sound of the back door and froze. 

Loki forgot to consider they had a dog.

The brown terrier took off, charging towards him. All wagging tail and barks and slobber and teeth. 

In a panic, Loki turned and ran as fast as his little cat body would allow. The dog lumbered after him- but it couldn’t match his agile feline speed. 

Loki found the closest tree, and getting out his claws, quickly attached himself to the bark and climbed up. Frantically, beyond canine reach. He perched up on a tree, his back arching up and his ears slant.

The dog kept wagging his tail, his bark sharp. He put his front paws on the bark and wagged his tail, announcing to all of Essex that there was a cat on the tree.

Loki glared at him from the branch.

“I am a god, you dull beast! And I shall not be trifled with the likes of you!” he threatened.

But what came out of his mouth was a bunch of meows.

“What’s that?!” cried a small voice, like the cooing of a dove.

Loki was about to deliver a new threat that would come out as a hiss. The dog stopped pawing the tree and turned his head.

Out from the back door were two young children. The first was a girl. A pale face with freckles and long, light brown hair. The boy with a mop of curly dark brown hair. 

He remembered they weren’t just any children…

“Look, James, up in the tree!” cried Jo. “Get John! He can calm him down!” 

They were Stella’s children. The ones she loved so much, the ones he even saw her deliver to the world in visions. The ones she stayed in the palace to heal. The ones that mattered to the woman he loved. 

Out emerged the third, the middle boy. He went to the dog and ordered him to sit and the dog obeyed. Loki found himself relaxing.

“I’ll get him!” offered the girl.

She easily climbed up with her long, slender limbs. She sat on the branch and petted him. He purred and leaned into her touch. He noticed the blue eyes and the sweet smile. Traits she got from her mother- little signs that signaled this was a bit of Stella out there in the world for all to see, how to love. 

She scooped the Loki into her arms. Though the dog sniffed at him and wagged his tail, Loki gave him a warning hiss. But he settled.

“Look how sweet he is! Do you think we can let him inside? Do we have a cat now?!” James asked.

“What will Mama and Papa say?” John asked.

“They won’t mind!” Jo assured him. She scratched Loki’s head.

“Feral cats won’t let you do all that- maybe he’s hungry! We should feed him!” John replied.

Yes, he would let them. For then, he would be allowed in the house. He would keep a closer eye on her again and see Stella in her element. No poetic suicide attempts. Just a close watch. Maybe the odd thing of mischief or two. But only to see that Stella and her children too were happy and alive and safe.

 Curled like a baby, he let Jo carry her into the house. He even gave another purr and felt her smile over him. 

This was already too easy.

He could do it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

He couldn’t do it.

Already, seconds after they fed him, Jo broke out her old dolls. And her old doll’s clothes. 

He was in his third humiliating outfit of a ruffled white dress.

“Look at how they fit! It’s perfect!” John laughed, being the one to hold Loki up.  

The last one was a gown where they declared her (since they were unsure of Loki’s gender as a cat) the fairest princess in the land.

Loki was tempted to hiss and scratch his way out. Wriggle until he was out of their arms and bite off the clothes. Or even change to his Aesir form, the clothes ripping into bits as he grew to his actual size. The look on their faces would have been worth it. And the screams!

But no.

These were Stella’s children. They were happy. They deserved to be happy, even if it meant another babydoll dress and hat on him. So he gritted his feline teeth and bore it, though his ears flattened with annoyance.

“Here! Add the hat!” James cheered, handing over a little pink baby’s bonnet from the doll.

Loki let out a meow in protest. But the boys’ little hands fitted the bonnet over his ears. He tied a bow beneath his chin. The children smiled even bigger at the sight of it.

“Just like a real baby!!” Jo cooed.

John began to sway him as they all made up a song to parade him around the brown house. Marching like he was their prize and swinging him back and forth as they sang to the tune of Greensleeves.

‘I am a little cat oh so faaaaiiir just pet and hold and giiiive me miiiilk!”

 They were not natural poets, the Ransome children. Not when the eldest was merely thirteen. So the latter part of the verse required simplicity.

“Meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meoooooowww, meow meow moew meow meow meeeow meow meow!”

AllMother forbid Thor to see this. Loki was sure that Ragnorak beginning at this moment would be merciful over his brother having more ammunition to tease him. 

The door opened and they stopped their song and turned their heads.

“Why, what are you doing, my loves?” asked a soft, feminine voice from the entrance.

Loki felt his ears and face turn. 

Stella then entered. She took off the kerchief on her head and her shawl and set it on a doorknob. She smiled at the parade around the house. 

“Mama! We found a cat!” James explained.

John held him up to show her proudly.

Loki let go of his glare. He had to be appealing to her. So he fired his biggest, cutest eyes and gave her his sweetest mew.

Stella burst into delighted laughter.

“Set him down- he is probably wanting it,” she instructed.

James relented and released Loki down. He found a way to walk towards her, despite his peripheral vision blocked by the bonnet and the dress. He walked towards Stella’s blue skirt. He heard her ask the children if they knew if the cat belonged to anyone and they replied no, they did not.

“Can we keep him? He doesn’t seem feral!” asked Jo.

“You must remember- you must feed and look after him and give him water and a place to relieve himself. Animals are like babies themselves- you cannot be cruel to deny them their needs. And they may cause some trouble- it is your responsibility!” she lectured them, even leaning down to look into their eyes.

The children claimed that they would nod their heads. 

The cat went before Stella. He purred loudly and rubbed against her skirts, giving his sweetest meow. He heard her gasp and melt a little. She leaned down her arm and began to pet him. He leaned even closer to her touch- its smoothness, its gentleness that he loved, even in this form.

“Oh, what a little dear you are!” she cooed. She got him out of his little doll clothes by picking him up and putting him in her lap on the chair. But he made sure to be sweet and pliant. She looked carefully at his body, and then at the children.

 “I think he is male. But how is he with Dan?” Stella asked.

Loki looked over and there was the dog, wagging his tail and wanting to play again.

“Dan doesn’t hurt him!” John explained. “They get along! Dan’s always good with cats! He just wants to chase them and play with them!”

“Well, you know your father must name any male pet we have after the twelve sons of Jacob…” Stella began.

Jo stood up proudly and began to recite.  “I already know all of them now- Nephtali, Issacar, Judah, Benjamin, Joseph, Asher-”

“It should be Asher! For his ashy face!” cried James.

Stella looked down with a laugh as she stroked Loki again.

“Oh, then Asher it is!” Stella laughed.

Allowed into the house, Loki began his mission to make himself the best cat he could for her. Followed her as she made dinner, took care of a few chores, and asked after the children. At one point, he heard a noise beneath the table and found James hiding there. He meowed at Stella to signal her. She leaned down, pulled up the tablecloth, and smiled at the hiding boy. Then she got up and fixed a saucer of biscuits. Crouching down, she brought them to James beneath the table with a smile that made Loki melt on the inside.

The second she sat down, Loki was on her lap. Kneading on her, much to her joy. Or laying down in the submissive pose with his belly up and his paws curled. 

“Oh, he likes you, mama!” John said.

Loki was happily in her lap, curled up and warm and content.

Then the dog barked at him, Jumping and wanting to play. Loki gave him a good swat.

“You shall leave us alone, shall you!” he cried. Only it came out as a “Mrow!”.

But the dog obeyed Stella’s commands and left her alone. This was it- this was almost like the peace of Valhalla. She was petting him, everything was warm and cozy. Jo was reading her book and the boys were playing a game. It was perfect, absolutely per-

The door creaked open.

“Papa!” shouted James.

In came Will, looking perfectly snug in his large, green scarf and coat, a sweater beneath him. Loki felt himself stiffen as he turned his curly head towards there, even with three children who all got up to hug him. 

Will went over to Stella with the chair, looking down at Loki. A half-laugh came out of him with a smile. But Loki did not smile back. He instead gave him his biggest death glare. Which, given his current species, proved quite simple.

This did not deter the reverend.

“The children found a cat,” Stella explained.

Will went over and reached his large hand towards the new pet.

“Hello there, little fellow,” he began.

Loki could not play sweet little kitten around him. 

He swatted at Will’s paw quickly.

“A feisty fellow!” Will chuckled.

He reached again to pet the cat. Loki batted Will away and hissed at him. 

“Oh, he is only not used to you!” Stella claimed. “Give him time!”

She did scoop him off of her lap (to a protesting meow) to embrace and kiss her husband. Loki did everything in him not to gag.

As dinner was being served and plates were appearing on the table, Loki wished to join them. That wish was not granted.

The dog wanted to play. He barked and wagged his tail, prancing around him. Loki could not avoid him wherever he was. He tried to ignore him by lying down on a small blue rug on the floor. 

“I shall have nothing with you, Midgardian scum,” Loki silently cursed.

The dog in answer picked up the rug and dragged it across the house with Loki dragging on it. He meowed in protest, much to the amusement of the Ransome family. Who applauded and laughed like they were watching a play.

It had felt like ages and dinner was done by the time the dog was bored of him and he went to the table. Stella had picked some bits of chicken, set it on a blue saucer, and leaned down on the floor offering it to Loki. 

“Here you are. For your troubles,” she offered.

He ate every bit of it. 

The world was inky with night as each person settled into their bed. Stela noted that the cat ended up in her room. As she unbuttoned her dress and removed her corset and petticoats, she noticed the cat in a corner with both paws over his eyes. She giggled lightly as she finally put her nightgown on.

After all, Loki was a gentleman. 

He did not do the same when the husband undressed into his shift. What did he care if Will was the one undressing? For some godsforsaken reason unknown to him, it was his own cock anyway.

Will went to the chair to read, the pages flipping quietly. Settling in.

With a contented sigh, Stella pulled up the covers of the blankets and settled into bed. Her hair was still in her braid, draping over her shoulder. With her ruffled nightgown, she seemed every bit. 

 Loki hopped up over the blankets to her.

“Oh, hello!” she said.

He curled up on her chest and her chest, purring. With another beautiful smile, she stroked his fur.

He loved it- to just touch her, be with her in this form. To hold her and feel her. How warm and comfortable and safe and alive she felt.

The bed shifted as a second weight got on.

Loki shot the occupant a glare and then focused on Stella again.

Will each time Will got close, Loki would turn around and glare at him. Daring him to lay a hand on Stella, bonds of  Christian matrimony be damned. And Loki would let out a growl or a slap if Will attempted to pet him. The viar only sighed and settled into his half of the bed.

Stella slept all night with the cat curled on her. When she awoke, he stretched and greeted her, wishing to snuggle more before she got out of bed. She had never been this cozy in ages.

The week passed on blissfully. Will was gone for long periods. Stella remained at home, keeping everything tidy, rearranging her collection, sometimes making trips to pay calls, and waiting for the children to come home. Sunday morning came and went with everyone scrambling to get ready and head to church, then return home, and sink into a half exhaustion all afternoon.

Loki wasn’t complaining. He liked being her companion. Being near her all the time.

Tuesday, there was a visitor.

In walked a woman with small eyes and high cheekbones with a soft face. Her nose was up in the air with confidence and her long, almost wavy blonde hair, streaked with red was up in a bun, though strands came loose. She wore a grey coat. Beside her was a young boy with straight brown hair that fell over his eyes. He kept his eyes low but looked up softly as Stella went forward to greet them.

Her steps paused. Loki noticed why.

The woman wore Will’s green scarf.

She said she was here to see him and go off on another walk. She patted her son’s shoulder. Stella kept her gentle smile, but remained still, though her eyes sometimes flickered to the scarf. She said he would be in the backyard and that yes, Frankie is welcome to stay.

The woman looked down at the black cat. Loki backed down, ears flat, and gave her a loud hiss.

“Don’t mind him, he doesn’t like strangers!” Stella replied.

Then the lady squeezed the boy’s shoulder, turning off with almost a flourish. And the boy stayed behind, his shoulders tight.

“How are you, Mrs. Ransome? I-I heard you got better,” he asked.

“Oh, I’m fine, Frankie. Come on in, I’ll fix you some tea,” she offered. Taking his hand.

Loki wasn’t sure of the lad at first. It seemed unfair to hiss at him because of who his mother was.  Yet Stella liked him. She smiled at him and talked to him like a friend. She made him tea with some honey. He held his cup with both hands and sipped it politely.

“Mrs. Ransome…I know people call me disturbed. I can’t pretend like I don’t…am I?” he asked.

“Oh, no, you’re not at all. I think you’re a very wise, patient, sensitive boy and you have nothing to be ashamed of,” she spoke to him.

As she got out her collection to show the new additions, they talked happily. She beamed at him, letting him go through whatever he wanted.  He then found the flowers from the time she was with Loki in the field and pulled them up.

“Where did you find these?” he asked.

Loki jolted up from the floor.

“I was sent to a place to recover. And it was run by a man. Loki is his name. He was incredibly kind to me. And he found out about my collection so he took me on a trip to see a field full of those flowers. I will never forget him…it’s thanks to him and his generosity I am still alive,” she recalled. A slight pink to her face and her smile was genuine.

“He sounds nice,” Frankie said.

“He didn’t think himself as nice. He…he had some troubles in his life, just like you. But sometimes people don’t realize that they’re not as bad as they think they are.” she replied, adding on.

She touched his arm and looked at him with a motherly glow.

“So do not worry if others think you are disturbed. You have done nothing wrong. And if you continue to be as you are, they will learn they are wrong about you.” she said.

Loki went up to Frankie’s legs and began to rub on them, purring. The boy almost jumped.

“You said he doesn’t like strangers!” said Frankie.

“Well, he likes you,” Stella replied.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

But what use is a mischief god if he just sits around rubbing against people’s legs and purring all day? Loki had to cause some trouble. And he knew how.

Stella was hardly in Will’s office. So she couldn’t stop him. Sneaking in the shadows thanks to his black fur, he arrived that day in Will’s study. No doubt what was happening right now with him and Cora was not in the least bit academic. So he needed to be punished.

After all, he promised Stella he wouldn’t end his life. That meant everything else could be done instead.

Loki hopped onto the desk and the bookshelves. Maneuvering his paws, he knocked over one book. Then he snuck into its crevice and knocked down the one next to that. Being a cat, he could squeeze easily into the shelves for books that weren’t pushed in. 

When Will returned, whole rows of his precious, long-kept book collection were knocked onto the floor. 

Will shooed the cat out.

The cat got back into the room. He targeted the large, open book on the desk and clawed up.

Will shooed him out.

The cat returned to the room. He scratched up a love letter from Cora. He urinated in it for good measure.

Will tossed him out and kept the door locked from that point on.

Then again every night, Loki would snuggle with Stella. Playing the devil with the husband and the angel with the wife. 

But every time he thought he could knock something of Will’s over with her present, she would look at him and tilt her head. He would back down with lowered ears and widen his eyes. If only he could let his magic conjure a halo over his head.

There was one afternoon, as he went about to cause mischief to Will’s belongings again, Stella said “Loki, is that you?”

He froze, looking at her. Blinking slowly. What should he do?

But she went up and leaned down.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. But you must behave yourself or I will not give you any chicken from dinner.”

Loki went up to her, purring and rubbing against her to seal the promise. 

As another week passed, Will was spending even less time at home. And the time he was with Stella, they were more quiet. More stiff. They talked less. Smiled even fewer.

One morning, Will was already gone. Stella awoke in her nightgown, went to the window, and stared out, her face pale and frowning. When Loki hopped by her, he could only see the fields and forests outside.

He touched a paw on her just barely, and she did not respond. Her memories coming up to him.

Will and Cora- Cora in her red dress. They were in the marshes and muck…and Will was on top of her.  Doing what you would expect from the lusty vicar.

And Stella watched it all through that very window.

He returned his paw. Fury building silently in him. How he wished he could turn into his Aesir form and bring more chaos to Will than a few upturned books. But he saw a tear go down her eye.

He meowed sweetly, touching a paw at her until she turned her head. He crawled up to her and purred, leaning against her. She picked him up and he leaned close to her She needed comfort, to not be alone. To not tear herself apart for others and never consider herself. No, right now, she only needed to be loved.

That night, he was especially affectionate at bedtime. He laid right on Stella’s lap to cuddle her. The picture of a perfect feline companion.

Will had already undressed. It was a warmer night and he was sleeping bare this time. He sat up in bed reading his Bible. Loki wouldn’t even look at him and remained on Stella. 

He heard the Bible close and being put away. 

Then Will caught Loki off guard and scooped up the cat into his arms. Loki was so surprised he let out a meow despite himself. 

He was plopped onto Will’s bare chest.

“Ah! There I have you! I think I got you now! I think it’s time we be friends and let a man enjoy embracing his wife,” Will replied triumphantly, a smile on his face. 

Loki had enough.

He bit Will’s nipple.

A loud, masculine scream exploded in the white house.

Will let go of his hold on Loki as he hopped out of his arms. He went onto the floor and sat to watch with triumphant slow blinks. Will lept out of bed, hunching over in pain. Stella ran over to him to put a hand on his arm.

“Will-it’s alright! Let me see!” she was consoling. But there was a smile on her face, trying to suppress chuckling and be a good wife.

The children scurried over, wondering about the commotion as the door barely creaked open. They took in the scene of their father naked with nothing to cover him. Without saying another word, they closed the door and hurried back into their rooms, the image, unfortunately, burned into their mind. Even as handsome as Will was, papa’s bum is papa’s bum

Stella helped him with the bite marks. But she laughed. Despite her scolding the cat and seeing that the marks didn’t bleed, she was laughing the whole time.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Cora returned to be with Will the next afternoon. Dropping off Frankie for Stella to look after the whole time. But today, Stella stood up folded her hands, and went to her.

“I am making dinner. And I will need help- could you please return in an hour? I don’t want my husband to be late,” she asked.

Cora blinked. Loki turned his head between them. 

She never did that. She let them run about and do whatever. For as long as they wanted.

But now…now was different…was it, perhaps, she was remembering him? 

Cora then dropped her shoulders.

“Of course. One hour,” she replied.

“If he is not, I will go and search for you both,’ she replied.

Cora nodded begrudgingly. 

Loki smiled as much as a cat could smile. He purred again with pride. She was doing even better than he expected and she was slowly standing up for herself more. Asserting what she wanted, bit by bit. Far more than the sacrificial wife in the boat.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After some time, Loki decided enough was enough. With his magic, he snuck out and made himself a lady in town and conjured the black cat. He knocked on the door and explained that her cat was long missing the family and thanked them for taking care of him and keeping him safe. They all assured her that he was perfect. The lady promised the family their friend would be just as petted and spoiled as he was here. He made the conjured cat happy and grateful to be in his real owner’s arms. So they said their goodbyes, and despite the tears, they were joyful little Dan found his home again.

With a silent smile, he returned to Asgard. 

That next afternoon, the house was completely quiet. The children were away. Will was away. The dog was asleep. And Stella thought to herself of how alone she felt. Alone-and at least she could indulge in her memories. 

The castle. The dances. The dinners. The flower field. His dark hair. His impish smile. 

She went to her room and from her wardrobe. On the bottom was a box, rectangular and long. Opening the lid, she looked down on the soft velvet where she kept the dagger. 

 Perfectly safe. Lovely as a gem. She traced the hilt with a finger, careful to avoid the blade. 

“Oh, Loki…” she whispered with longing.

She missed Loki. Missed him so badly, so much…but she would never see him again.