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"Verity!  You made it!  Your mother will be so happy!" Don trailed off, not knowing what else to say to his stepdaughter.  

Verity had always been a bit of an odd duck.  Don had only been married to Temperance for five years, so a grown stepchild with significant pause issues was still a sore spot. At a loss, he took in the box Verity held.

"That's plenty of wine, dear.  We actually don't drink that much, what with the childr--"

"This is for me," Verity announced.  

There was a long pause.  The redhead finally looked down at the case of wine she held.

"I mean, I suppose I could share a couple of bottles, but most of it is for me."

Don stared at her.  Verity pushed past him into the house.

"Let's get this bullshit over with," she sighed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In another part of the universe, another redhead pushed her way into a home.  Loki, slumped at a table behind swags of pine boughs, straightened slightly as Angela stood in the great hall of Asgard.  You could have heard a pin drop.  Thor (or Odinson as he called himself now, seriously, how stupid was his brother?) leapt to his feet and held out his arms -- well, his arm and stump.

"Sister!"

Angela looked as though she was torn between slaying everyone in the hall or fleeing into the night.  

"The Solstice is a time to reunite with family long thought lost," the angel/Asgardian announced in a ringing voice.  "I thought myself an orphan but now know myself to be a daughter of Odin.  So I come to join your feast."

Thor threw his arms around his long-lost sister, followed closely by Odin and Frigg.  Angela looked as though her skin was crawling.  Loki slumped back into his seat.

"This ought to be good," he muttered.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Verity, we're so glad you could join us," Sherry said.  "Tempy said you don't have any other family and family is what Christmas is all about.  And since you're family now, would you like to say grace?"

"No."

There was another pause as Don's children and grandchildren turned to stare at her.  Verity's mother put her hand on her forehead.

"I think it would be entirely hypocritical since I don't believe in the Christian god," she said.  "But knock yourselves out; I'll wait."

Sherry exchanged shocked glances with her two sisters and one brother.  Various spouses and children looked at Verity as though she'd grown another head.  Verity simply drained her wineglass and reached for the nearest wine bottle for a refill.

"You don't believe in God?" a little boy asked in a shocked tone.

"I believe in the gods I've met," Verity answered.  "But they're not that impressive in person.  Honestly, I can't wait for Jesus to step out of a spaceship and say: Medammit, you guys, I said I hated figs."

Once you'd seen the God of Mischief curled up in a sobbing ball on his bathroom floor you realized that divine people were still people.  After another slug of wine, Verity realized she was in the middle of a spreading pool of silence.

“You guys go ahead!” she blurted.  “Far be it from me to call your faith stupid to your face . . . “


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

So how is your Yule going? Loki texted.  I don’t think it could be worse than mine.

Don’t make me sing at you,
Verity replied almost instantly.  Ever heard ‘The Season’s Upon Us’?

Loki grinned at his phone.  Trust Verity to have a more fucked up family life than he did.  And have a song picked out for it!

I’ll take that challenge, he typed.  If it’s literally true, I will pick you up and we’ll have sushi for Solstice dinner.

He didn’t have the time to draw a full breath before his phone rang.  Loki punched it through for speaker phone, ignoring the looks of those around him.

The Season’s upon us, it’s that time of year,” Verity sang with no intro.
“Brandy and eggnog, there’s plenty of cheer,
There’s lights on the tree and there’s wreaths to be hung,
There’s mischief and mayhem and songs to be sung!
There’s bells and there’s holly, the kids are gung-ho!
True love finds a kiss beneath fresh mistletoe.
Some families are messed up while others are fine;
If you think yours’ is crazy, well you should see mine!


Loki giggled while Odin, Frigga, and Thor turned their faces to him.

“Personal call from across the cosmos!” he said sharply, holding up a finger.  “Please don’t interrupt the Lady Verity!”

Verity, for her part, paced along the long living room, spaced with adults on sofas eyeing her with distrust and children on the carpet, paying her no attention at all.

My sisters are whack jobs, I wish I had none.
Their husbands are losers and so are their sons!
My nephew’s a horrible, wise little twit
He once gave me a nice gift wrapped box full of shit.


Verity paused to glare at her eldest step-nephew, who had personally made sure her plate always contained a bit of someone else’s DNA at dinner.  The rugrat pinched his face at his step-aunt and made the sign of the cross.  Across the galaxy, Angela had her hand over her mouth, but her shoulders shook with laughter.

He likes to pelt carolers with icy snowballs,
I’d like to take him out back and deck more than the halls
With family like this I would have to confess
I’d be better off lonely, distraught, and depressed!

The Season’s upon us, it’s that time of year!
Brandy and eggnog, there’s plenty of cheer,
There’s lights on the tree and there’s wreaths to be hung,
There’s mischief and mayhem and songs to be sung!
They call this Christmas where I’m from!


Sherry was following Verity along the living room, practically vibrating with anger.  It was her little shithead son that needed a good thump, after all.  Temperance just shook her head at her daughter, looking as if she were on the verge of tears.  Nice try; those crocodile tears hadn’t worked on Verity since . . . . ever.

My mum likes to cook, push our buttons and prod,
My brother just brought home another big broad
The eyerolls and whispers come loud from the kitchen
I’d come home more often if they’d only quit bitchin’.


Temperance buried her face in Don’s shoulder.  At first Loki couldn’t figure out why Thor as glaring at him along with Frigga, but wait—hadn’t Brunhilde accompanied Thor to the feast?  Oh that was hilarious!  Verity threw up her hand to indicate the next rant didn’t specifically apply to anyone present.

My dad on the other hand’s a selfish old sod!
Drinks whiskey alone with my miserable dog!
Who won’t run or fetch, eh, he couldn’t care less!
He defiled my teddy bear and left me the mess!


Verity may not have targeted her stepfather or even her biological father with the verse, but Loki curled up under the feast table, trying not to wet himself with laughter.  Odin scowled at his adopted child, Freki and Geri lying beneath his throne.

The Season’s upon us, it’s that time of year!
Brandy and eggnog, there’s plenty of cheer,
There’s lights on the tree and there’s wreaths to be hung,
There’s mischief and mayhem and songs to be sung!
They call this Christmas where I’m from!”

“The table’s set, we raise a toast
To the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost!
I’m so glad this day only comes once a year!
You can keep your opinions, your presents, your ‘Happy New Year!’
They call this Christmas where I’m from!
They call this Christmas where I’m from!


Thor appeared on one side of Loki, Volstagg on the other and they hustled him out of the feast hall.  On Midgard, in a city called Boston, Sherry rushed up behind her stepsister and seized a handful of her red hair . . .

Loki teleported down to the South Shore of Boston just in time to see two female figures crash through a picture window.  He rubbed the back of his neck.  He was never sure how to handle this; one thousand years of conditioning told him to save his beloved from danger, but five hundred years of experience on Midgard had taught him that Midgardian women took that as a godsdamned insult.  Loki huffed and waited while Verity pounded on the blonde Midgardian female until she stopped fighting back. An older Midgardian man came out on the porch.

“Don’t ever darken my doorstep again, you heathen cunt!” he bellowed.

A woman Loki recognized (from pictures) as Verity’s mother clung to his arm, whimpering pleas of mercy.

“You’re going to Hell!” a small child cried delightedly from an upper window.

Verity yanked a handful of blonde hair from the other woman’s head and staggered towards the sidewalk.  She grinned broadly when she recognized the figure standing there.

“You win,” Loki announced, holding his arms out.

If he hadn’t been Asgardian, Verity might have tackled him off of his feet.  As it was, Loki swung her around and hugged her tightly before setting her down on the sidewalk.

“So! . . . . . sushi?” he asked.

“Sushi!” Verity agreed.

“And that plum wine you like that comes in the little jars with actual pickled plums in it.”

“I fucking love you.”

Loki paused, staring down at the mortal woman clinging to his hands.

“Don’t make it weird,” Verity pleaded.

He laughed, squeezed her hand and headed in a direction he imagined sushi and plum wine in little jars to be.  They started down the road when Verity grabbed his hands and swung him around, her talented vocal chords already coming up with a new tune.

How we gonna make it or is this how we go?
How we gonna take it, sitting down? Hell no!
Gonna cause a riot, we’re gonna rip it up!
We’re gonna storm the gates, this place is going up!”

Here we go!  Here we go!
We’re out of our heads and it’s starting to show!
Here we go! Here we go!
The roof is on fire and it’s ready to blow!


The pair yelped and slipped down the icy sidewalk together.
When's the best time to post Christmas-themed fics?  May, clearly!  I started this ages ago and it kind of fell by the wayside.  I just got a new record player and was going through my Dropkick Murphys LPs when it kickstarted a memory.

Loki and Verity commiserate over their effed up family lives . . . . and plum wine that comes in little jars.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=qTx-sd…

www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yg_rf2…
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ymymy Featured By Owner Jun 13, 2018  Hobbyist
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SparklinBurgndy Featured By Owner Jun 14, 2018  Hobbyist General Artist
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