Ozalya (OC) - Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Just having fun doing Japanese summer festival style YGO Zexal characters. But since I enjoyed drawing Rio so much, I thought I'd draw my OC, Ozalya, too.
Still loving my wind-chime, it actually does look pretty glassy.
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Part 17: A Grand Day Out
Pairing: Loki x Tony Stark x black!original character
Rating: M, 18+ only
Word count: 8,339 words
Plot: Loki and Claude have a nice day out, the god of mischief receives an unexpected surprise.
Warnings: For 18+ readers. Brief sexual content, swearing.
Notes: This is the rewrite of a one-shot from months ago. It was originally meant to be the last chapter, but my story expanded so much that I want to wrap it up properly. We’re one more story and an epilogue away from the end.
Canon, what canon? After the events of Thor Ragnarok and Endgame, but basically in a multiverse where Loki is still alive to annoy everyone. The character is a blend of film! Loki and comics! Loki. Loki is genderqueer and uses he/she/they. The OC is a afab transmasc enby. Everyone is gay, I don’t make the rules.
Tagging (let me know if you want to be removed): @p—ink
“Why did you not tell me sooner!” Thor’s voice was a mournful roar.
“Shh! Keep your voice down, bro-in-law! We didn’t want you to worry!” Claude leaned heavily against the padded wall. Two months of not training had made her body weak.
“I could have assisted you, Lady Claude!”
Thor’s dark brows dipped in rage, his eye crackling at the thought that she may have died without him knowing.
“Hey, Point Break, chill. What would you have done?”
“What needed to be done,” the All-Father rumbled darkly.
“Yeah. And that’s the problem. D’ya know how difficult it was to stop Prancer from murdering this guy?” Tony moved next to Claude, putting his arm protectively around her shoulder.
“The last thing we needed was two gods on a rampage. Especially not the king of Asgard. You woulda caused an international incident, and we don’t need world governments turning on you or New Asgard.” The Avenger frowned at the warrior.
“It wasn’t a fun decision, but we made it and it’s done. The guy’s in prison and he’s not gonna hurt anyone else again.” Tony’s voice was assured. Thor frowned. Tony knew as well as he that men like that don’t stop unless they’re forcibly stopped.
“How can you be so certain, Stark?”
“Because I broke him,” Claude said calmly. “I cursed him with a living haunt. He will be haunted for the rest of his life by monstrous visions of me and Lokes. He’s tormented by us every waking moment.” Claude’s eyes turned into dark flames, her voice cold. “And when he’s close to death, I will make sure that his passing isn’t peaceful.”
Thor rubbed his beard thoughtfully as he pondered the Avenger and witch. “Your methods are not my own, Lady Claude. Yet you have the ferocity of a true Asgardian. I am happy that you are safe.” He shuddered to think what his sibling would have done had the worst happened.
“Thanks Thor. But my ferocity is given to me by my ancestors and my gods.” She suddenly looked tired. “Sorry, can we cut training a bit short today? I’m exhausted. And, uh, I need to speak to Tone.” She gave the All-Father a pointed look. His eye widened.
“Of course. I will see you both this evening for supper.” He hurried off.
“What d’ya want to talk about, baby?” Tony stroked the witch’s arm.
Claude looked into the Avenger’s dark eyes, at the soft swoop of his long, dark lashes. She took a deep breath. “It’s about me and Loki.”
The witch sat in the train seat across from the trickster god, gleaming and slightly stubbled legs nestled between Loki’s typically wide seating stance. She watched Loki carefully as the Asgardian stared out the train window. For weeks Claude had been trying, rather unsuccessfully, to convince the God of Mischief, Stories and Lies that she was ready for a full day out, that it was time. Not just training and work and then quickly home. Or people always coming over to theirs if they wanted to hang out. Loki hadn’t listened until this morning, when the weatherman confirmed what they could already feel, that a mini heatwave had settled over the city.
“It is October, there should be a delightful chill in the air. Not this miserable heat,” Loki grumbled. The god wore only briefs as she tried to work out what to wear on this scorchingly humid day. Claude was already dressed in dark denim shorts and a ‘Melanin Poppin’ muscle tee with large armholes that verged on scandalous.
“That’s why today is the perfect day to go out, beloved! I missed this entire summer, this’ll make up for it, please! And I need to get stuff for our trip. C’mon, it’s been forever since you’ve rode on the train with me, I miss it.” The witch was breathless, her eyes shining.
Loki despaired at her mortal wife and her love of silly mortal activities. But she could see the hope on the witch’s face and couldn’t bear seeing that expression turn to one of disappointment. Not after everything. She was, as Rhodey had said to her and Tony on several occasions, completely whipped. The corner of her darkened mouth twitched, and she gave an exaggerated sigh of defeat.
“Fine, my dearest. I will travel with you on your quest.” Claude wrapped her arms around her taller companion, standing on her toes for a kiss, which the god gave gladly. A strong, tattooed arm snaked around the witch’s waist, bringing her flush against the nearly nude trickster prince. Loki gave a cocksure grin as her head went lower, passionate kisses travelling down the witch’s throat.
Claude pushed her away, stern. “Nope, you’re not getting out of it that easily, wife. We’re going to have a grand day out, Friggadottír! Just you wait!” She pinched the god’s firm backside. “Stop trying to tempt me and put some clothes on, you harlot!” Loki’s head drooped as the witch left the walk-in closet.
“I’ll get you some nice food!” The witch’s voice called from the bedroom. Hmm. Maybe today would work out after all. She quickly put on a crop top that said ‘low key’ and tight black jeans, throwing an old silk green robe on top. She checked her reflection quickly before joining Claude on her mission.
“Why are you watching me, my dashing witch?” Loki glanced at Claude with hooded eyes, the sunlight reflecting off her heart-shaped sunglasses. Her hair was braided in married Asgardian fashion, only partly visible underneath a black, wide brimmed sun hat. She truly despised this heat.
“Well, my witchling?” Loki’s angled face was amused.
Claude pushed up her glasses, looking slightly guilty at being caught in the act.
“I just like seeing your face when you’re observing things. You’re beautiful. It makes me happy.” Her voice was low and soft. Loki took the witch’s hands, her face content. She gave a small, warm smile.
“You are maddeningly sentimental on occasion, my wonderful mortal. Luckily for you, I adore it. I am sorry that I’ve been so overprotective recently. I just want you to be safe.”
“I know, my love. But I am safe with you, you know that. And now that I have my zapping powers back, bad guys beware.”
Their hands remained entwined as they sat in silence, watching homes and offices meld into warehouses, before becoming homes once more. They soon reached their destination and jumped out of the train carriage, along with a glut of passengers ready to enjoy their weekend. They could hear music and chatter from the platform, and smell the cooking of various foods.
“And which hamlet is this again?” The god looked around as Claude grinned. She looped her arm through the trickster god’s.
“This is Peckham. This is where I go sometimes to get my hair done. Olu’s cousin owns a salon, she always does my braids. But today I’m getting hair products. And lunch.” Loki smiled at this, she loved the potions that the witch used on her hair, they made her smell divine.
“Lead the way, my dearest.” They moved downstairs to the exit, winding around the crowds and staff, going past small markets until they were on the high street. Trains and buses rumbled past, and everywhere there were people, waiting, chatting, eating, being. The place was teeming with life, and an almost imperceptible level of magic coursed through them all. Loki’s seidr buzzed in her ears.
“Ah,” she breathed, looking at Claude. Claude looked at the god, amber rings forming around her mottled irises.
“Amazing, isn’t it? I think some ley lines must run through here. It feels like all my best summer memories at once.” Loki hummed happily. It was like drinking the perfect cup of coffee. The witch led the god past shops, bars, and veg markets to a large hair shop. The display featured a range of wigs arranged artfully on mannequin heads.
Sighing at the blast of cold air from a fan that greeted them when they opened the door, the couple quickly entered the shop. Claude pulled her shirt from her sticky back, flapping it in effort to get a bit more cool air. Loki removed her glasses, putting them in the large pocket of her robe.
The witch showed the god around the aisles, explaining some of the products.
“So these are barrettes and baubles, I wore them as a little kid. I was partial to the baubles that looked like planets. And the poodle barrettes.” She pointed out the hair accessories that reminded her of her childhood, doing double dutch and reading upside down on monkey bars after school. Loki smiled at her face, dreamy in reminiscence.
“May I see, dearest?” the god asked gently. Claude considered for a moment, before nodding. Loki held a gentle hand to her temple, taking in the sun drenched memories of Claude’s childhood summers, of children playing in sprinklers at barbecues while adults cooked and gossiped, riding a bike and jumping rope, hair accessories clattering with each movement. Jumping in the pool on hot days with the rest of the neighbourhood, doing backflips and headstands in the cool blue water. Catching frogs and fireflies in twilight before letting them free. Loki let her hand fall, smiling at the memories. Claude’s eyes returned to normal as she was freed from the god’s seidr. Accessing memories was an intimate process, one that needed boundaries and consent. Despite her new aspect as the Keeper of Stories, some stories weren’t for her to know. It had taken the god too long to learn that lesson, to her shame.
“Thank you, darling. Your childhood seemed idyllic. Which is miraculous, considering your parents.” She held the witch’s hand, rubbing her thumb against Claude’s knuckles. The witch smiled.
“I guess parts of it were.” They moved past the hair aisle, with its bags of kanekelon extensions, as Claude explained the long and sometimes painful braiding process. Loki had noted that sometimes Claude would be gone for an entire day, before returning with a new hairstyle, hair extending temptingly down her back.
Claude attempted to explain the perming process. “So black women with hair like mine used to always straighten our hair, and the chemicals in this stuff helped with that.” The god’s nose wrinkled in confusion.
“Why? Your hair is magnificent.” Loki had spent many an afternoon watching Claude carefully tend to her coiled hair, completely enchanted with the ritual. Her hair seemed so full of life, defying gravity itself in order to meet the sun. To the god, her hair was perfect.
“Um, racism was a big part of it. After slavery, black people wanted to be seen as respectable, so when hair products started advancing, women and men started straightening their hair to wear popular hair styles, or look professional so they could get jobs, or just look put-together.” Claude winced at the memory of her grandmother using a hot comb on her hair straight from the stove, the grease in her hair sizzling from the teeth of the comb, the burns around her hairline and ears from accidental movements.
Loki grimaced. She had learned a bit about Midgard’s recent history and hadn’t been impressed by how quickly humans turned to brutality against their own. “That is horrific. On Asgard, hair indicated a variety of social and personal roles. It was considered offensive to interfere with someone’s personal adornments.”
“Well, by the 1960s, black people got sick of it, and reclaiming our natural hair was part of larger revolutionary movements. We started wearing fros and traditional hairstyles to reclaim our identities and show that black is beautiful.”
Loki waggled her eyebrows, putting her arm around the witch. “Indeed.”
“Stop it, you hussy.” Claude lightly slapped the god’s hand with a nearby brush.
“You know what a turn on it is to hear you speak about historical events. I cannot help but be aroused.”
“Gods, Silvertongue, I can’t take you anywhere.” Claude’s voice was only slightly exasperated, so Loki knew she was amused.
“No,” the god agreed, “but you can have me anywhere you like.” The trickster’s voice was husky and deliciously smooth.
An older woman inspecting hair oils nearby raised an eyebrow at the exchange. Claude met her eyes, her face hot with embarrassment. She covered her face and dragged the god away.
“C’mon, before you embarrass me in front of any more aunties,” she muttered. Loki gave the surprised older woman a wink as she was pulled away.
They went to the aisle that Claude needed. Loki stopped, smiling. Everything smelled heavenly.
“This smells like you,” she said happily.
“Welcome to the natural hair section, princeling.” Claude made a beeline to her favourite hair butters and conditioners. Loki started opening everything to inspect them carefully.
“Norns,” she gasped. Claude glanced at her with amused eyes.
“Hey, space goth, stop opening the merch. This shit’s expensive and I can’t afford to buy it just because you wanted to smell and touch everything.” Loki whined, making the witch sigh.
“Fine, you get to choose one thing for me. One.” Loki picked a deep conditioner that smelled like chocolate and rosewater.
“This one,” she said, clutching it protectively. Claude laughed at her intensity. She picked up her normal products from the bottom shelf, giving the god an eyeful as she bent down. It took all of Loki’s hard earned self-control to not ravish her partner then and there. She remembered the last time she did something the mortals thought was “inappropriate” and “unacceptable in public”. Bah. Killjoys.
“Earth to Lo? Are you ready?” Claude looked at the god expectedly.
“Yes. Sorry. Just had a lovely daydream.”
Claude squinted at her.
“I bet. Let’s go, lunch calls.” She turned around and walked to the counter to pay. Loki picked up more products surreptitiously and hid them with her seidr.
When Claude was finished, the god asked sweetly, “my beloved, this heat is a bit much for my Jotun constitution. Could you buy me a refreshment while I pay for this?” She waved the conditioner. Claude gave her a gentle squeeze and strolled to the shop next door.
Watching her leave, the god dumped her hidden goods on the counter. I will take all of these, make haste!” Her eyes were wild with delight and mischief.
The god met the witch outside, products hidden once more. She kissed the witch’s forehead, making the witch groan, slightly inappropriately. Loki’s lips, cool as ever, were a welcome respite from the heat. The god felt a deep ache at that moan. She silently passed Loki a mango juice, which the god took gratefully.
Loki wiped the sweat from her brow, putting her sunglasses back on. “As fetching as you look under the sun’s cruel gaze, please tell me that you’re taking me somewhere cool, witchling. Perhaps an icebox? An industrial freezer? I may be dying.”
Claude gave a small nod. “I know just the place.” She led the god to a side street full of warehouses. They walked through the door, into an industrial brewery turned bar that was blessedly, welcomingly cold. The couple both gave relieved exhalations as sharp tendrils of air soothed their glistening, overheated skin. They walked to a small table and looked over the menus. The bar had an ever-changing roster of meals, allowing local chefs to set up pop-up restaurants for short periods. Recently, a Korean pop-up had set up shop.
As Claude ordered from the bar, Loki removed her witchy hat and took out her fan, furiously waving it. Claude had gifted it to her ages ago, after she found out that the god did drag. It had a black and green snakeskin pattern, with the phrase ‘royalty’ in gold glitter. The god loved it, taking it everywhere and occasionally using it on stage. She watched the witch come back with drinks and an order number, half of her face covered by the fan, a brow arched.
“Here’s your g&t, Pola Negri.” Loki had dragged the witch across the river numerous times to watch silent film seasons at the film institute. Claude knew how much the prince adored the old gods of the silver screen, the magic that early cinema still held for her wife. She could still feel the almost painful swell of love that filled her when she saw Loki’s face transfixed in delight, the light from the screen capturing her otherworldly beauty.
The witch continued. “Food’s on it’s way. Glad the fan is being put to dramatic use.” Loki whipped the fan away, revealing a wicked smile.
“Thank you, my dashing witch.” Loki had a sip of her cocktail as Claude drank a pale ale. She gave a small exclamation as something warm and furry brushed past her leg. A small, shaggy dog had run under the table and started barking at the trickster prince. Loki looked down, removing her shades.
“Why, hello there, you lovely thing,” she said softly, scratching the dog’s ears. The dog wagged its tail in response, pushing up against the god’s hand. “Oh ho, you are a noble old hound, aren’t you?” She gave the dog a belly rub, enjoying the feel of its soft grey fur through her fingers, before it bounded off again with a bark. Loki’s face glowed with quiet joy as she watched the dog scamper back to its owners. Claude looked at her in wonder. Loki seemed like the personification of a cat person. She had never seen the prince with an animal before. She fell in love all over again.
She smiled gently at the god when she excused herself to wash her hands. When Loki returned, gracefully collapsing in her chair, she looked at the witch questioningly.
“You seem to have an unknowable expression on your face. Has something happened?”
“I didn’t know that you liked dogs. You didn’t seem the type.”
Loki smiled dreamily. “I love them. They don’t judge you, usually.” She drank quietly from her glass for a moment. “I used to have a dog, I raised him from a pup.”
“Aw, what was his name, what kind of dog was he?” She imagined some kind of sleek or suitably ancient dog.
“His name was Thori.” Claude finished her drink and looked at the god.
“Excuse me? You named your dog after your brother?”
“Long story, Thor died for a bit, I lost my memory, didn’t know I had a brother, blah blah blah.” Loki said breezily with a hand wave. “Anyway, Thori was a hel-hound-“ Claude choked on her drink.
“And I loved him, until he betrayed me to his father. He was a good dog. I believe Thor has him now, somewhere. Only the Norns know where.” She finished her cocktail and sucked on an ice cube. Claude looked at her agape.
“Fuck. Sometimes I forget that you’re from space. And then you say shit like that.” Loki clutched the witch’s hands.
“I love you too.” Their lunch arrived soon after, large steaming bowls of kimchi and pork bibimbap, followed by more drinks. Claude had been surprised at first by how voracious an eater Loki was. Until she met her brother. Now she seemed delicate in comparison. They ate in companionable silence, enjoying the meal. Loki had been on a quest to eat foods from all over the world, to consume as much as possible. The witch finished first, unable to finish everything. She pushed her tray towards Loki carefully, avoiding the scalding heat of the stone bowl. Her brow creased in thought, but she waited until the god finished both bowls.
“I’ve been thinking about something recently. Lots of things.” Loki looked worriedly at her partner.
“I think I want to change my pronouns. I like they, I think.” Claude tried it out, feeling the taste of it. “But also, maybe, he?” Their voice was soft, questioning. Loki moved to the witch’s side in an instant, taking them in their arms.
“I think both suit you well, my dashing, handsome witch.” The god held Claude in her arms for a few moments. “I adore you,” she whispered fiercely. Claude pulled back, giving a small smile.
“Can we go home, do you mind? Home feels perfect right now.” Loki nodded, smiling.
“Of course, my love.” They left the brewery arm in arm, using Loki’s seidr to return home.
“What does this mean for me? For us?” Tony couldn’t help but look wounded. He moved away from Claude and stood up from the new cream sofa. The suite was redecorated while Tony stayed in London. It was still sparse, but now had a masculine, midcentury feel that Claude liked.
“Tone, baby, this changes nothing.” She took his hand before he could pace around. “I love you. You’re my husband, my hero. I just- I need to do this. I can’t have what happened this summer happen again, it would break me.” She covered her face.
“Oh, Claudie baby, please don’t cry.” Tone knelt down quickly. Claude looked at the Avenger with reddened, watery eyes.
“I love you both so much. I can’t imagine life without you. I wish you lived with us properly, Tony. It’s been hard having you gone again after months of you being there. I know Lolo feels it too.” She kissed Tony fervently, hands holding him close.
“We need you. I need you. I could never leave you behind, how could you still think that?” Her voice was low, despairing.
“I know. I know, Eastwick. I just see the strong connection you and Lokes have again now that your powers are back and I worry that- that I’m not enough.” His words were rushed. His dark little secret was out. When Claude was in pain, he felt useful taking care of her. She needed him and he was up to the task. Years of being the mechanic had helped him to prepare for that moment, to mend his precious witch, to ensure she was protected, saved. Fixed.
He felt ashamed even thinking that way. She wasn’t a machine to be improved. She was his wife, and he knew better than anyone how hard she worked to reach this point, the trips to therapy and physio that became part of their weekly schedule. He was just a helper along the way. That’s why he loved her. Beyond the magick, she was smart and resilient. But it still stung when she didn’t need him to help her as much anymore. He didn’t know why is stung so much.
“Oh, Tony.” The couple sat in silence, gazing at each other sadly.
“How can I prove that you’re everything to me, Tone? Say the words, I’ll do it.” Tony chuckled at the witch’s vehemence. He shook his head ruefully. Loki told him from the very beginning that they would always have a bit of them that was out of his reach. He’d agreed to it, happily. Claude’s plan was inevitable, expected. So what changed? Why didn’t it feel enough anymore? He sighed.
“Kid, I know how much you love me. I do. I’m just feeling a bit weird lately, and I dunno why. When I work that out, I’ll let you know.”
Once they returned, Loki sat on the sofa, watching the witch pace the living room.
“What else did you want to speak to me about?” Her eyes were guarded. Claude took her hands, grasping them fervently.
“I want to grow old with you, Lolo. I know it’s impossible because I’m mortal and you’re, well, a god, but I can’t imagine not waking up next to you every day, forever. I want you here with me always, my beloved prince. So I, er, I got a thing.”
Claude ran into the bedroom, reappearing with a plain cloth bag. Loki retreated into the comfort of the sofa, trying to process what just happened. The witch sat next to the prince, hands slightly shaking. They opened the bag, producing two wooden bracelets. They were thin and elegantly made, with two entwined pieces of wood and no discernible joins. Rowan leaves and berries were expertly carved into the surface, making them seem alive. Loki looked at them curiously. They were full of magick.
Claude looked down at their outfit, sighing. “Please pretend I’m not dressed like this. If anyone asks, I was in a frock coat and the weather was suitably autumnal.” They cleared their throat.
“I asked Thor to help me with this. They were crafted by the dwarves of Svartalfheim. Ash and oak, the sacred royal trees. Ash, the Asgardian wood of Yggdrasil, power, and creation. Oak, the Midgardian wood of strength, knowledge, and courage. Both symbols of potent magick and protection.” Loki’s eyes widened. Claude looked at her, voice clear, eyes shining.
“These bracelets represent our love, and the joining of our realms. They will remain entwined for as long as we are together. This is the symbol of my dedication to you, Loki Laufeyson Odinson Friggadottír, and I make it with open eyes and a willing heart. If you accept this offering, the magick I and the dwarves have placed in these bracelets will merge, solidifying our union.”
“Oh.” Loki whispered. Oh oh oh. This was ancient magick. A love forge. Irreversible and powerful, the eternal consort bond from the not so Realm Eternal. With this, Claude would age like an Asgardian. This was no foolish mortal vow, this was a promise of permanent devotion. And the All-Father blessed this? And kept his big mouth shut? This was the kindest thing that Thor could ever do for her, damn him. Always so worthy.
“How long have you planned this, my love?” Loki breathed.
“When you bound yourself to me and Tone during Harpa, I knew I had to do something to show that I understood. And that I will always feel the same way.” They gave a nervous grin.
“Does Anthony know?”
“I told him a few weeks ago. He understands, kinda. He knew that I wanted to do this today, before the trip. So, my beautiful, infuriating, wild, intelligent prince, can we belong to each other? Always?”
Loki’s eyes filled with tears, and she hugged Claude tightly. She could have her witch forever. “Oh, Claude,” she sighed. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”
The witch explained the ritual. The couple each took a bracelet and placed it on their wrists. They held each other’s forearm, eyes locked. Loki magicked a dagger, drawing her rune in the air, followed by the runes of each realm. Her eyes flashed red, Claude’s gold. They spoke in unison, voices filled with love and magick.
“We call the realms to bear witness to what no being can tear asunder. We claim this Forge by the might of the All-Father, our bodies and souls are remade anew as one. Let our devotion rule eternal, and never come undone.”
Their bracelets shrunk to their wrist size. They glowed with seidr, green and gold joining together, before fading. The etchings were marked with fiery runes before they too, disappeared. Magick flowed out of the bracelets, entwining into a thick cord of gold and green in the air between them. Both god and witch looked on with rapt attention. The cord rammed into the lovers, piercing their hearts. They were both suddenly filled with all-consuming love. Lust and unspeakable joy wound itself through blood, sinew and synapse, sparking alight with each quickening breath. They held hands as they felt the other’s magick become tangible, solid. It felt Divine. It felt like a miracle. The spell ended, the cord slowly dissipating until it was only them once more. Loki’s eyes were bright, her chest heaving.
“We did it. It’s done. You are mine, and I am yours. Forever.” Claude kissed her deeply, heart racing, a promise of the love always to come.
Loki clutched Claude’s body, hands desperate for connection. She dragged her fingers across Claude’s back, tracing their shoulder blades. She brought the witch closer, and their foreheads met. Loki looked at Claude through her lashes, lips parted and full.
“Thank you for choosing me,” she said, voice uncharacteristically sincere.
“Every time, my prince.” They sat together quietly for a long while, limbs sprawled, before Claude stood up, stretching.
“I feel disgusting, I’m going to go take a bath and wash my hair,” they said, stripping off their sweat covered clothes. Loki jumped up and stood in front of the witch.
“Wait, let me do something for you.” Claude looked intrigued. “What?”
Loki’s mischievous smile had returned. “It is Asgardian tradition that on the first night of royal betrothal that the wife fulfil the duties of servant for her husband, as an act of fealty. I believe that what we just did counts as a betrothal of sorts.”
Claude grimaced. “Yikes, that’s grim.”
“It is if you are forced into it. But I am going to do this for you, witchling, as a break from convention. I want to do this, not as a prince, but as your consort. As your equal. So will you let me disrupt tradition, one last time? Then we can start making our own, all three of us.” Claude nodded.
“Alright, my beloved. To the disruption of bad traditions and the beginnings of new ones.”
Loki’s crooked smile returned. “Also, I am aching to see you undressed right now.” Claude threw their shirt at the god as Loki chuckled.
Claude sat on the sofa for a few minutes while Loki readied their bath. They were giddy and fidgety with what they’d done, their thoughts racing. They called forth magick from their fingertips, laughing excitedly when they saw gold tinged with green. Their connection could never be severed again. They had to tell Tony and Thor that it worked. Their friends, everyone!
“Ready!” called the god’s silken voice from the bathroom. Claude went in, before stopping in shock. The room was covered in candles and actual floating fairy lights, with jazz playing at a low level from unseen speakers. The tub was filled with one of Claude’s bath bombs, the water a cloudy pink. And there seemed to be hair and body products everywhere. Claude looked around, furrowing their brow.
“Er, Lolo?” The god spread their arms wide, looking proud.
“Ta-da! I may have bought you some nice smelling presents.”
“Gods, space goth, this is a year’s worth of stuff.”
Loki grinned. “And I will make sure you use all of it, even if I have to slather it onto you myself.” Her tone indicated that she was looking forward to doing just that. Claude giggled, before it turned into a fit of laughter that Loki couldn’t help but join.
“Thank you, you mad, wild idiot,” Claude said between gulping laughs. They started to remove their bra, but Loki came to their side.
“I am afraid that you will have to leave this to me.” She removed Claude’s bra with a chaste kiss to the shoulder, followed by their shorts and underwear. After socks were added to the pile, the witch got into the tub, sighing as they felt the cool water surround them.
Loki took Claude’s arm, a soft washcloth in hand. Using soap that smelled of honey, she carefully washed the witch’s limbs.
“You don’t have to do this,” Claude said softly. She had already done it so frequently when the witch was injured and helpless.
“I know. I want to,” came the simple reply.
So Claude allowed themself to be doted on. Loki kneeled as she worked, scrubbing back, chest and legs. She helped the witch up so that she could clean their lower half, without any innuendo or remark. Her touch was tender, and nothing needed to be said. She took a plain ceramic jug and poured warm water over the witch’s body as she went, making Claude slump into the tub happily.
“This is bliss,” they said dreamily. Loki’s heart soared.
“One last thing.”
“Oh Trickster, it’s fine! I can do my own hair! It’s a whole thing.” Loki kissed the witch’s forehead.
“On the first day we met, I said that I wanted to explore every inch of you, to give you pleasure. So let me do this for you. Explain what I must do.”
Claude felt very warm, suddenly. They explained the process of washing their hair, working carefully to avoid pulling their coils and curls or tangling it into knots that would have to be trimmed, of conditioning well to keep their hair healthy and supple. Loki listened carefully and began. She poured coconut scented shampoo into her hands and ran nimble fingers through the witch’s hair, careful not to accidentally pull any wayward strands. She messaged Claude’s scalp with firm touch, making them moan with pleasure.
Loki hummed along to the music as she washed, using the jug to rinse. Claude noticed that it seemed to refill on its own. She repeated the process again before conditioning, carefully spreading the heavy cream throughout the witch’s thick hair. Her low voice was pleasant as she hummed, and Claude closed their eyes and let the sound wash over them. Loki marvelled at how long the witch’s hair was, the curls made heavy by conditioner.
“I would be happy doing this every day of my life,” Loki said quietly, as she rinsed the last of the conditioner away. Claude’s curls began springing back slightly.
“That’s sweet, but you wouldn’t. It’s not very exciting.”
“Hearing your sounds of pleasure are always exciting, dearest, regardless how I wring them out of you.” Loki gave the surprised witch a small kiss.
She helped Claude out of the tub, drying them with a large towel and wrapping their hair. The god dressed the witch in their favourite summer robe that they had found in a New York market. Claude walked back into the living room and fell onto the sofa, fully relaxed.
“We aren’t done yet, darling witch.” Loki held a comb and a range of products.
“Just tell me how.”
“Fine. But I will comb my hair myself, just to tease out any kinks. I’m tender headed, so poor combing makes me very not happy.”
Loki acquiesced, watching her consort intently as they sectioned their hair and slowly sprayed it with a detangler. They then detangled, working from the bottom of each section toward the root with their comb. Wincing when they encountered a snag, they used the teeth of the comb and careful fingers to tease and cajole their hair apart. It was fascinating. Claude looked almost shy at Loki’s interest, eyes downward, though a smile danced on their lips.
“Gods, you make me feel like we haven’t been together for two years.”
Loki gave a small shrug. “I can’t help that you’re constantly intriguing.” Claude pointed out the products they wanted.
“Right, so the leave-in conditioner goes in first, that keeps my hair moisturised. You only need a small amount for each section.” They demonstrated, rubbing it fully into their coils. “After that’s done, I put in some hair butter and comb my hair again, from end to root.” They showed how the butter had to be warmed up, changing it from a thick cream to a smooth oil, before being added to their hair. They then twisted the section so that it hung neatly at their collarbone.
“Got it?” Loki nodded, brow furrowed in concentration. Claude parted the god’s long legs, sitting between them on the floor. They picked up a cushion to sit on so that their back wouldn’t protest later. Loki gave a surprised look.
“This is the traditional sitting position for hair styling. The kid sits on the floor while their mother braids their hair. Usually lead to a slap if you fidgeted too much.”
The god followed the steps of the ritual, carefully warming up a dab of conditioner between their hands before running it through Claude’s hair. They began humming again, a sweet tune that Claude did not recognise. Then came the butter, whose transformation Loki found secretly delightful. It felt like spellcraft. Then came the gentle combing, the teeth moving smoothly through soft hair. Loki then adeptly twisted the section, watching the end curl upwards of its own accord. She was convinced that Claude’s hair was magick.
On the ritual went, the flat silent save for Loki’s low singing. It all felt terribly intimate to Claude, and they found themself moving closer to the god as she worked. Maybe they could finally get used to this, a god steadily and carefully attending to them.
As Loki finished, the witch gave a sly smile. Wrapping their hair with a pale sage scarf, they stood up, and wrapped themselves around the god. They could feel Loki’s pleasurable reaction to their body.
“You’ve made me very happy today, Friggadottír.” Loki’s eyes were dark.
“Have I now?” That dangerous, velvet tone appeared, the one that made Claude fall for her on their first night together.
“Yes, that’s why I think,” they hesitated. “I think we should start a family.” Loki’s face was shocked, her green eyes wide.
“What?” she said quietly, thoughts racing. Claude took her face in their hands, eyes beseeching.
“I think that we should get a dog. A fluffy one. I’ll name it Kiki Jr.” Loki took a cushion and hit Claude with it. The witch laughed as they ducked from the attack.
“You bastard!” Loki exclaimed, laughing. “Norns! Could you imagine us, with children!” She scoffed. But then her face grew serious, and she held the witch close to her, smelling the scents that always drove her slightly mad with desire. The prince kissed the witch’s neck, moving in an upward rather than her usual downward trajectory. She held Claude’s chin so that she could look at them directly.
“I think that we should find a new home.”
“What, is something wrong?” Claude looked concerned. Loki shook their head.
“Nothing is wrong. I just want someplace that we can start anew, and build a life together. Perhaps a cottage near our friends. With enough space for a library, or perhaps a dungeon.” Their wicked smile was fleeting.
“I want us to have a home where we can all make it perfectly our own, where you and Anthony also have a say. Where we can have scandalous parties, or spend the days wrapped in each other’s arms on a soft sofa. Where the spiderboy can visit, unless I murder him first.” Loki’s eyes were shining with not yet made memories.
“I want a real home with you and Anthony, my dearest Claude. Where we can get into mischief and magick together. Away from these maddening tourists,” she added fiercely.
Claude’s smile was bright, their eyes aglow. They kissed their yes into Loki’s lips, their tongues meeting in agreement. The trickster removed her clothes.
“Yes,” the witch said, kissing the god’s throat, the cool skin of her breasts, the pale slope of her muscular stomach. “Wherever you go, I go. I’ll go to the end of the universe with you, my beloved. Always.”
Series Masterlist. | Previous Chapter.
Oc-tober day 18 sunset 🌇
Mozzie man and his smoking addiction
Birthday: January 10, XXXX
Under care: Robert pines
day 1: dr. Robert pines report on day one, working in a company that helps children and their unknown "mental illness." I refused to work at first for personal reasons but until my trusted old friend convinced me to do it, I own him after my little situation I had a while back with my previous job. When I was in the building, I found it suspicious that there were many children in this facility without any guardian or parents around these children until the leader explained that the parents would most drop them off and sometimes would be scared or worried about their child mental health. I almost accept the explanations almost but I didn't trust the leader's words. Something was off of him, It made me feel unease being around him. While I was taken a tour around the area to know the base of it, I slowly felt worried about these children. I took a few glanced inside in each room and saw a few of them being very skinny and pale as well as having a few scars and bite marks on them. They had explained that the children wouldn't be eating so they try their best to make sure the children eat as well as they would attack each other as in self-defense as in the result of the bite marks on their bodies. Once they finished with the tour. they had given me a file and an office to start my job. What's is my job? Well, my job is simple, it's to give four different medications to the child I'm Assigned to, every 3 hours until it's nighttime if I'm correct. What concerned me was the liquid inside the needles, It was dark like a pitch-black type of color, I have never seen this type of medicine. I had pushed it aside since I didn’t want to get paranoid like I would usually be on my first day on a job. I found it more concerning and weird that the leader told me that i must be with the guard at all times when i encounter the child since there was an incident before I have gotten hired. This facility is very strange, it makes me nervous being in this facility…
Day five: dr. Robert pines reporting in, this time It's about the child. I just completed my first week, let's just say it didn't go so good. The past few days, I visited the child in person to do their medication. the child would mostly growl at me and try to lash out at me but due to the chains being warp around her arms and legs. She couldn't reach me, the guards quickly pulled her back away from me and pinned her down on the ground while I was putting the needle in her neck as I was supposed to. let's just say i completely regard doing my action, What haunted me was the screeching and yelling when I inserted the liquid into her neck. She was shaking violently against the wall as the guards were still holding her, she was tearing up something that wasn't teardrops in her eyes more like a dark goo coming out of her eyes. Once I took out the needle, she had slowly stopped and stood still there unconscious. The guards slowly let go of her then drops her on the floor without caring about her. they had back away from her with a taser gun pointing at her, I was shaken up from what I have seen at that moment. The guards told me it was a normal reaction from the children and that she would find it later on the day. i know that this crap isn't a normal reaction especially from kids that are outside the area. The guards and I left the room, I went back to my office while the guards lock the door. Once I was inside my office, I stood there doing nothing but just imagining the pain that little girl was enduring from this facility. i was slowly recollecting my thoughts until i realizing that there was a number on her neck as well as the rest of the children, the more I thought about it the more i realized that maybe this isn't a company to help children but sometimes else…
there are going to be two parts since i had drawn pictures of this, so hopefully, this is good. especially my grammar, i love writing and drawing but i don't know if people would understand my mini-stories.
Take this clotheswap sketch
Sleep well everyone. <3 Nova Starko (c) Paintriaz
eye see what you eye see there
Mannequin my beloved
Slight blood warning
I really love this brush 😍
planning some holographic grocery sticker 🛒 ✨
AIUEO様 New Song 『Re:boot』
Whew been a long time since I posted any art on here but uhhhh here take one of my main ocs
Please do not copy/repost/trace!/Reblogs are appreciated!
It’s not much but I made a quick doodle of Scouty’s ancestor, Skye Rose
Originally she was just a knight AU of my TF2 OC but I want to flesh her out a little more than that
Trying to fester cute old people things
October is the month for traditional art (for me), so, it's time to get a sketchbook and introduce you to my OCs. I will use this topic list #OСеньДляOCов (here is a thread on twitter). I will not draw all themes and will choose them at random.
1. Hunter | Охотник Iain | Йэн
[Image description: A vector cartoon drawing of a monster with head and torso being of a brown wolf and the bottom being of a grey shark. She has yellow pointy teeth and gills near her ears. She’s smiling mischievously while floating on a red background. /End Image description]
Lobarão is here and she’s hungry