AN: This piece exists solely to entertain both you and myself. I've been asked about Odin's feelings for his sons in this, and I would like to clarify- I don't wish to become sentimental and deep in this story. I just want to make any readers who have wandered into this story laugh.
"Loki? We aren't done, son." Loki's eyebrows crease and he faces Odin again. What does he mean? He had already been served his punishment. Then he pales, realizing what was meant for him.
Odin sits in his throne, a single, formidable eyebrow risen. His knuckles are white around Gungnir, hand clenched with pent up anger. His tongue darts out to wet his lips before speaking again.
"You know the drill. Across my lap, Loki." Loki hesitates, giving him a pleading expression.
"Father? Surely you can't mean what I think you do. I'm not a child anym—"
"You're thinning my patience, boy!" he growls, voice husky and thick. "You should know better than to question my actions!" Loki nods, resigned. He trudges forward slowly, stalling.
Much too soon, however, he's at the Allfather's side. Odin looks at him expectantly and pats his lap.
Loki awkwardly situates himself over Odin's lap, stomach pressing against his thighs. He braces himself for what is to come.
"No, Loki. No tensing up." Loki clenches his jaw, trying to unwind. As soon as his body relaxes, a pain from his childhood makes itself known on his backside.
The pain is instantaneous and blinding, causing flashes across his vision. He doesn't hear himself grunt over the resounding slaps against his tush. It stings, climbing up his body to make his eyes sting as well. The Allfather's wild, scolding shouts fill his ears.
"…never been so disappointed in my life! I swear by my power, that if you ever do something so foolish again…"
Loki squeezes his eyes shut to postpone the tears trying to escape.
"…I will make your backside bleed! You will know the pain of a million failed Laufeys…"
Loki feels moisture against the exposed skin of his neck and knows Odin is seething so much that he's spitting alongside his shouts. The spanks have still not relented, and Loki lost the ability to count at twenty.
Odin seems to have lost all logic, now mindlessly screaming as he hammers his wrath on Loki's bruised and battered buttocks. His screams echo through the Throne Room, coming at Loki from all different directions. He wails riotously, coming down on Loki's rump with the force of his entire wrath. No one has known this agony since the fall of the Frost Giants.
Then it's finished, and Loki is yanked up to look the Allfather in the eye. Odin's face is beet red, and heat radiates from his flesh.
"DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, BOY, OR DO YOU NEED TO BE TOLD TWICE?!"
"No, Father, I understand! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he pleads. Odin makes an animalistic noise in his throat, flipping Loki over once more.
"You will remember this lesson! You will begin to rectify the mess that you've made!"
"Yes, Father! I'll fix it! I swear!" He promises over the claps of Odin's stern palm against his rear.
"Good!" Odin shouts, and his raging thrashing is over. "Now get to your bedchambers! Quickly!" Loki stumbles off of his lap, blearily lurching toward the doors. However, he finds that he cannot walk through the excruciating agony on his rump. His legs collapse beneath him, and he shakily tries to gamble back to his feet.
Behind him, Odin growls and leaps from his throne. Loki utters a sound of surprise as he is tossed haphazardly over his shoulder.
He can hardly see the passing halls through his swimming eyes as Odin makes haste to Loki's chambers.
"Stupid, reckless boy," mutters Odin. "Childish imp."
Loki quells a whine from leaving his mouth as he's carried through sharp turns and up staircases.
"Could've caused irreparable damage…."
Loki closes his eyes against the many gazes of castle guards.
"Very lucky that he's being shown mercy."
Dumped on his bed, Loki turns over to see Odin's retreating back.
"A healer will be summoned to ice your buttocks!" he calls, not looking back.
Loki clenches his hands around the blanket of his bed, trying not to concentrate on the pulsing in his probably multicolored tush.
AN: Every author wishes to be reacted to, and reviews are a nifty way to convey your thoughts. I'm truly curious to hear what you think, as I'm always looking for ways to amend my writing and- modesty aside- see what I'm doing well, and if you liked this.