#love me a good old norse mythology reference

[heyitsspaceace]

LOKI SEASON 2 FINALE SPOILERS

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loki making the timelines into Yggdrasill (the world tree in norse mythology) is probably one of the coolest things i've ever seen

[cartoonist-in-theory]

You’re walking down a long quiet road. It’s winter, snow covers the ground, the sky fades gray. All around you are trees that have long since dropped their leaves, cold and dead, waiting for spring. You stop beneath one, eye caught by a striking sight. Amid the bare branches you see a round bundle of stunning green leaves. Hanging down above you are dozens of beautiful little pearly white berries. The fruit tempts you, but you don’t dare touch. Instead you simply admire them. Life among the dead of winter. Mistletoe.

@slocotion Hi, here is my design for slocotion's patreon dyo doll contest. Her name is Haustoria of the Pale. I was very excited to put this together once it struck me. I thought of all my favorite fruits I could have used but then inspiration hit me as I was considering less common fruits and fungi. Mistletoe is used medicinally by some but the entire plant, including its cute white berries, is toxic. Since this is a longer post, I’ll include more notes on my design under a cut but to point out the most important thing, I’ve combined the nature of the toxic berries with some historical+mythological inspiration that I think echoes it nicely.

In Norse mythology, a well known story is that of the death of Baldr. Baldr was the most loved god of the Aesir, so when a vision of his death reached his parents Odin and Frigga, they did all they could to protect him. Frigga sent her servants all over the world to make every creature and thing vow to never harm a hair on Baldr’s head. All but mistletoe promised, too insignificant or too young to make the vow. After it was done, Bladr seemed invincible. Since nothing was willing to hurt him, the gods would sometimes gather around and throw things at him, watching everything bounce off without injuring him. Loki, jealous of the love and affection that was always paid to Baldr, came up with a plan to get rid of him. He had an arrow made of mistletoe and brought it to Baldr’s blind brother Hodr. He gave it to him to throw at Baldr as all the gods pelted him with objects and weapons. Hodr threw the arrow and, since mistletoe had never promised not to harm him, it pierced his chest, killing him instantly... And so Baldr was delivered to the depths of the land of the dead, looked over by Hel.

specific design notes under the cut thank you for looking!

Mistletoe is a very interesting plant to me. It’s not a tree or vine or bush, but instead its an evergreen parasite. The sticky seeds attach themselves to the branches and grow into it with a haustorium, which is a structure that lets them sap nutrients from the host plant. Haustoria’s name is a reference to this structure. “of the Pale” is a reference to not only the color of the berries but the pale gray and white landscape of winter.

Mistletoe berries are heavily toxic but also exist in winter, when other plants may be barren and “dead.” Because of that and their parasitic nature I see them as a sweet little balance of life and death. In addition to that, I use the split colors of the face/mask of Haustoria to reference the goddess of the land of the dead, Hel, who is described as having a body that is half black as death, split down the middle.

The structure of the outfit is inspired by Scandinavian and specifically Norwegian folk dresses, since I’m borrowing old Norse history for more inspiration, it seemed fitting. I also felt the style would be good to accompany the botanical and berry designs attractively.

The twin peaked hood is to further split the design down the middle, with little charms to show life and death.

I included white beads all over the outfit to represent the mistletoe berries themselves so they could stand out.

The dark side of her face is adorned with thorns and has three mournful black tears leaking down from her eye, as well as a hollow half of the center heart.

The light side is blushed and lively with shiny eyes, leaves shaped like the mistletoe leaves, red petals like the mistletoe blooms, three white dots to be the mistletoe fruit, and the center heart is full.

Her cape is white on the inside to represent the white of the berries and also the white of snow.

To cap it off, I do believe mistletoe is fitting for a plague doctor as they are still used medicinally to this day. :)

Thank you for reading everything and looking at my design! I’m very proud of her and I hope she doesn’t stretch the theme. And definitely more than anything else I hope you enjoy looking at her!

[peaches-creek]

Jason was looking for something. Not just someone, Homer, author of The Odyssey. He had been on a mythology kick, and wanted to read something more sophisticated. For a 9 year old this kid knows how to read, it was the only thing he could do during the day, waiting for nighttime to act up. So he taught himself to read at a very young age, and kept at it. He’s at a high school reading level. He would immediately come to the library after school, and would stay until closing hour. He had seen a reference somewhere that said, “Of all creatures that breathe and move upon the earths, nothing is bred that is weaker than man.”

His thought’s were then interrupted.

“Excuse me, I just have to get something by your feet really quick.” It’s a girl, about his age, one who doesn’t wait for his answer, just crouches by his feet and rips out a book. Not just any book, Neil Gaiman’s Norse Mythology.

That has him in awe, what kid his age knows how to read anything like that?

“Hey, you know how to read that?” He asks. You scoff at the implication.

“If I didn’t I wouldn’t have grabbed it, now would I?” You sarcastically reply.

That was the start of a very important relationship to Jason. Every day after school you would meet there, and argue about various topics, whichever ones interested you for the week. You guys would stay til close, and he would walk you home. You became important to him very quickly, he liked your gentle hands and kind way about yourself. When talking about characters you would always stick up for the underdog, just like in real life.

He remembers walking home with you one day, through the park when you both stumble upon a scene. Three boys a few years older, and a younger boy. He saw you stop, tears filling your eyes. He turned, about to say something.

“You know he’s a person? What makes you do something like that?” She yelled, crying at the same time.

“Why the fuck are you crying?” One of the boys sneers. Jason’s fist clenches, wanting to bruise this fucking kid’s liver, but decides against it, he is terribly outnumbered.

You say nothing, but walk up to the boy and grab his hand, walking away with him. You hear protests and sneers behind you. You bring him to the swings, asking him where his parents are. He points to two people arguing in the distance. You and Jason say nothing. He looks at you, the tears have stopped but the sniffles haven’t.

“Well then, let’s just play until they are done talking.” You say.

The three of you did exactly that.

You had taught Jason something about humanity that day. He knew he loved you in that moment. For someone so little to know exactly how to show someone else that they are loved.

The walk home had felt bittersweet that day.

“Can you hold my hand?” You say suddenly.

“Why?” He asks.

“Because I’m sad, and I want to hold someone’s hand.” He always forgets that you are a year younger than him, you don’t act it.

“Okay.’ He says, grabbing your hand.

“Why did you do that today?” He asks you.

He didn’t understand kindness like that, no one had shown him kindness before you, but he didn’t understand how you did it so effortlessly. When he first met you, he thought you were acting, lying to him about who you were. But then he realized that you’re just a girl, a girl who loves people.

“Why did I do what?”

“You know.”

“Oh, well, he didn’t deserve that, I don’t have to know him to know that he didn’t deserve that.”

“I see.” Is all he says.

“Kinda like you,” you start, “I don’t know how your life is hard, or why, but you don’t deserve it. I know that.”

“My life isn’t hard.” Is his answer

“Alright, sorry.” You apologize.

“Don’t apologize.”

He didn’t like to think about his life. Drug addict mom, alcoholic father, bills not being payed, going to bed hungry. You were the one good thing to him. Always offering him your spare mittens, sharing your snacks, helping him with his math homework. He didn’t like his life, but he liked you, that was enough.

“Y’know tomorrow is a half day, my mom said she would give me some money to get sandwiches on the way to the library. Which shop should we go to?” You ask.

“Daveny’s, they give you a pickle with your sandwich.”

“I hate pickles, so you can have mine, deal?” You say.

“I’ll share my chips if we have enough to get them.”

“We will, I saved the five dollars my Papa gave me last week.”

“Gotta love him.”

You continue on your way home, only stopping when you reach your steps.

“See you tomorrow Jay.”

“Since when did you call me that?”

“Since now, I think I have earned nickname basis.”

“Sure,” He smiles, “see you tomorrow, don’t forget the five dollars.”

“I wont, I wont.”

You walk up your stairs and into your house. He waits until he sees the lights go on in your room, and begins his trek to go and mess something up, maybe steal some hubcaps.

[kajilychnis]

Bellroc and its divine influences.

Bellroc is a character inspired by various mythological and symbolic sources that reinforce his image as an ancient and merciless guardian. In Tales of Arcadia, Bellroc embodies fire and is designed to represent destruction and "purification". Bellroc is a character inspired by symbols related to fire, purification, and the end of time. His inspirations mix mythology, alchemy, and apocalyptic symbolism, while drawing on the archetypes of the relentless and tragic villain. But the real question is: what are the potential references and inspirations that shaped the character of Bellroc?

In the Wizards Tales of Arcadia series, we see for the first time Bellroc who was actually an invisible antagonist from the beginning and a sort of apocalyptic final boss. They have an appearance influenced by Native American features and culture. So I thought maybe they were inspired by native gods. Like Xiuhtecuhtli, the god of fire and time in Aztec mythology, or Huehueteotl, also a god of fire and volcanos (they're probably the same gods). Like Bellroc, Xiuhtecuhtli represents the violent yet essential forces of "transformation" (To recreate), destroying impure elements. This figure might serve as an inspiration for Bellroc, both in terms of the strength of fire and the role of defender of an ancient and unyielding order. We find this desire to erase what seems impure to recreate and maintain a good balance. Many Native American tribes have nature spirits or gods who, like Bellroc, defend the ancient order of nature against those who abuse it. There are spirits of mountains and fires who punish humans for their disrespect for the Earth. Bellroc embodies this archetype of a protective and vengeful deity, especially in their disdain for humans, as a guardian who is committed to eliminating the forces that upset the natural equilibrium.

I also thought of the Norse god "Surtr", "the devastating fire giant". But all I know is that it is a symbol of destructive and apocalyptic fire of the end times. There is this side that we find of a giant of fire who appears at the end of the world to ravage everything with his destructive fire and to start all over again (the Ragnarök). In Norse mythology, Surtr is an ancient being who has watched over the realm of Muspell since the beginning of the cosmos. He is often seen as an inevitable, almost mythical force that stands in the background until the fateful day of Ragnarök, Like Bellroc. However Surtr's sword also reminds me of the Trollhunter's sword. Because we say that this sword "shines more brightly than the sun" even in the darkest hours.

I also saw that on the fan wiki, Bellroc's armor would resemble the face of a Rakshasa, a demon from Hindu mythology (this time). Their role as a god contrasts sharply with the fact that their armor bears the face of a demon. It's like a kind of "double face", "double facets". Bellroc wants to maintain balance which can be considered worthy of a god and positive, but they does not hesitate to be cruel and to do harm to maintain this balance which shows a behavior of a destructive and evil entity such as a demon. It can also demonstrate that Bellroc's motivations are not entirely good, that they have a selfish side that makes them want the world to themself, that they are avaricious for dominance and power, and that they does not take the time to comprehend the concerns of mortals. Rakshasas are described as more than just evil in Hindu texts. There are even kind Rakshasas, and some are protective. This duality also reflects that of Bellroc, who, although perceived as a destructive force, acts according to a logic of protection of the old order, even if this involves radical methods.

Guillermo del Toro, the creator of Tales of Arcadia, is known for his love of monsters and mythical creatures, which he often depicts with a certain nobility. Bellroc is, in this logic, more than just a "villain": They are a tragic figure of a guardian of the past who firmly believes in their role as the original protector, willing to go to any lengths to realize their vision.

[fuck-john-calvin]

Because of some cool art you made I want to dip my toe into the Mechanisms.

where do I find the story?

So I don't know how much you know about them, but the basics are:

The Mechanisms is a band in which each member has a persona. They are a crew of immortal space pirates, roaming the galaxy in search of violence, fun, and stories to tell. Each persona character can be referred to as a mechanism, as in a member of the crew, but they each also have a mechanism, a clockwork prosthetic of some sort that was installed after they each had their own tragic story and made them immortal.

When they find a good, long, juicy tragedy, they turn it into an album. They also have two anthology albums, with some songs connecting to the wider stories and some completely independent of them, and a couple containing mechanisms lore. Their last album is from the live show of their final performance.

All of these albums stand on their own, and there is no particular order you need to listen to them in. They each contain characters and places from classic stories, putting unique sci-fi spins on them all and following queer narratives. I'd say bury your gays, but honestly, it's more like bury your gays and the entire planet they lived on, along with everything they ever held dear.

here's a summary of each, stolen from the mechs blurbs themselves:

Once Upon a Time (In Space)-

This tale tells of those embroiled in the rebellion against the tyrant of New Constantinople, Old King Cole. It tells of the love of Cinders for her captured Rose, of the treatment of Rose at the hands of Cole's genetic scientists, and of the bold but savage leadership of the rebel General Snow. And it tells of the final fates of all of these.

fairy tale but make it a rebellion. their first album, contains many of their most popular songs. solid. not personally one of my favorites, but the one I'm most likely to be listening to a song from on any given day. our boy jack and pump shanty are excellent.

High Noon Over Camelot-

A tale of hope and despair aboard the Fort Galfridian, long lost to the outside world, where the chaos of centuries of solitude has been brought in check at last by the guns of the Pendragon Gang. But the visions of the mad prophet Galahad, and the schemes of the Pendragons' lieutenants Mordred and Gawain, threaten to cast the station back into anarchy. And all the while, the Sun grows hotter...

arthurian legend has just become a space westerner in which everyone rides motorcycles and a fiery death threatens them all. haven't listened to it yet, but I've heard great things. Blood and Whiskey is a banger, and Arthur, Lancelot, and Guinevere are in a polycule, something I didn't know I needed until I heard it suggested.

Ulysses Dies At Dawn-

Ulysses Dies at Dawn. That's the word on the street, at any rate, if you talk to anyone who saw what went down at Calypso's Bar the other night. Who is behind the thuggish band known as the Suits - Heracles, Ariadne and the others? What is Ulysses's secret? And what is hidden within the security of the Vault?

I'm going to be completely honest with you. I think this is no-contest their best album. It's greek mythology in noir film style, with heavy usage of blues and rock. I don't even like blues, but I love each and every song. This one is also a little easier to follow than the others. I'd recommend starting here.

The Bifrost Incident-

The Bifrost Incident. Any schoolchild could tell you about it. The fall of the old order; two hundred years of Asgardian hubris come together in a single epoch-defining event. The maiden voyage of a train through the stars, vanished without a trace...

Remember how I think the last one was the best one? Well, this is still my favorite. Norse mythology framed as a mystery on a train, with a twist completely out of left field that leaves you reeling. Thus, it is probably the most difficult to follow, or at least, it was for me. The art you liked-which wasn't mine, unfortunately, credit to the artists is on the post if you want to check those blogs out-featured variations of the narrator from this album. let's just say I'm. not so normal about them.

well. ANYWAYS. this was...probably longer than what you wanted. Or than what I should have given. I don't get asks a lot and an excuse to talk about the mechanisms is always something I am willing to abuse.

If you do end up listening to any of their music, please tell me what you think! I'd love to hear it, and it's always nice to talk about them with someone else :)

[shirefantasies]

If mashups are still available, I'd love love love if you could write one for me (never done this before)! The Hobbit is my favourite so preferably a (male) character from there if that would be ok!

I'm from Scandinavia and I love anything to do with Norse Mythology and going on hikes in the woods to act out adventures of my own creation. I am naturally very curious and love to go in-depth to study different topics, such as the natural sciences and different mythologies. I am quite short at 164 cm with blue eyes and blonde hair. Slightly on the curvier side. Thank you so so much I'd really appreciate it! <3 <3 <3

That is ok indeed as I match you with…

Óin!

(Warning: minor injury/blood mentions, hints at misogyny from unseen characters, minor alcohol/drinking references)

Maybe he isn’t the most conventional of the dwarves, but hear a silly old narrator out…

Your search for new species of plant has led you deep into the woods, deeper than they have yet undertaken. Success, though, has colored your journey, your prior experiment with the fertilizers of your crafting proving quite telling. Ducking past a very low-hanging branch that almost cuts a scar across your cheek, you press on, spurred by victory. The pursuit of science, after all, is the noble calling that moves you to painless battle with the forces set forth so many years before by the Valar, or in the eyes of your people quite possibly a different pantheon altogether. Even if none of it was true, they had been your favorite stories for years.

A world crafted from a corpse, now home to such life. Earth as flesh, seas blood, clouds brains of all things- dark, perhaps, but infinitely captivating. Or perhaps a song as the people in this land say, discordant notes sowing the very nature of sin and chaos as if as invisible waves in the air.

Such are your thoughts when your foot is roughly yanked, momentum pitching your body forward as a nasty loop of tree branch holds your lower appendage in place. More roots await when you fall, cutting and scraping various exposed areas of your skin. Pain arcs up your leg when you rise and try to return weight to the foot that got caught. Your ankle is sprained. You barely know where you are. Blood trickles from several smaller wounds, this blood no great sea, only drops upon dirt shed in solitude.

A long walk lies ahead of you. Sighing and biting back pained tears, you limp as best you can in the direction you’d come. You aren't certain how long you even have been walking for when you hear the voice, a bit gruff in nature but soft in tone and volume, pleasantly accented and reassuring despite its strangeness. "You're hurt," it says simply, and as you turn around- no, swivel at the hips, more like, your weight fighting a shift without a thought- it reveals a dwarf. His beard is pleasantly symmetrical, satisfying your eyes with its gravity-defying braids. Not a hint of malice shines in his dark brown eyes, only concern. "I come out this way to collect herbs, but I'll confess it isn't often I see another soul. Please, let a healer do his job." Exhaustion deep in your bones already, you simply nod.

Oin, as you find the dwarf's name is, is more than just a healer, at least in your eyes; his knowledge of nature and its properties are fascinating even if he is just rambling a bit about each thing he applies to your ankle, touch gentle as a feather despite the strength and girth of his hands. He knows exactly what everything he applies to you does and why. “‘N what were you doin’ out here anyway? I can see it- you’ve a good head on your shoulders. A lass like you has got a reason.”

He sees you. At least moreso than plenty of others you have run across, the ones who dub you too fair for your pursuits or reduce the way you track the stars to a pretty fancy of lights. Dwarves, you forget, prize women with a depth and respect that has yet to shine upon some of these lands. Your savior sees you as an equal even in your infirm, and thus you have no qualms explaining your experiment with the soil and the other which required the accursed herbs you twisted up your ankle over. You have tracked the world's revolutions and he has learned how to save mothers and babies from dangerous deliveries. Written many a medical record that piques your love of delving into knowledge enough that you don't just allow Oin to walk you back to society, you come home with him and spend the night in a lovely drown of parchment...and maybe a stiff drink, too! "It'll help with your pain, after all," he adds with a wink.

Perhaps you prefer the company of dwarves, or perhaps drink and offers of knowledge are far too seductive to pass up, but as you make for Oin's doorstep you feel an aching in your heart that your meeting was fate, and certainly not your last. Oin, you suspect, feels the same, shyly fiddling with his fingers as his gaze darts between the threshold and you. "'m glad I found you." "As am I," you reply, "for how else would I have learned someone so special was tucked away so close to my own home? Are you certain you want to listen to me drone on about old myths for hours?" "If it'll get you to come back here," Oin says, "Aye. Again and again." The warmth of your imbibing, and quite definitely something else, rushes through your veins as you lean to close the gap between you two, inhibitions burned down. Perhaps a part of you was tired of being so methodical, relying on long processes and choreographed steps. And judging by the wide, spellbound smile on Oin's face, your rescuer is taken by the same instant connection you thought only happened in old stories.

By the time his hearth is yours, your shelves of healing and botany and the mischief of old gods alike a complete blend of you both, the same way strands of your golden hair are united in the braid Oin gave you. Your healer husband dotes on you more than you ever imagined, dubbing you more beautiful than Freyja and worshiping your curves every chance he gets. Beyond your body, the way the sky shines in the blue of your eyes, he loves your understanding, having another soul move in perfect tandem with his and sit with him in the haze of fascination. A companion at his side for even the smallest tasks of watering the garden or washing one's hair and yet someone who poses the most difficult questions and waits with such patience if her words are not heard the first time. Perhaps he healed you long ago setting your ankle back right, but you, dear, healed him just as much.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @kilibaggins @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs | Reply/Ask/Message to join 🥰

[pyramidmedia369]

IXCHEL, the Mayan Moon Goddess

Official Pyramid Media 369 website: www.pyramidmedia369.com

Here is a picture of the Ancient Mayan Goddess, Ixchel (pronounced Ischel) and sitting on the Moon and holding a rabbit while fishing. The fishing pole and the fish are also symbolic. Have you ever heard of the Fishers of Men? I will explain this in a different article. The Rabbit she is holding symbolizes fertility, sex and abundance (good fortune). The Moon Goddess is known to be a goddess of love, midwifery, sex, fertility, pregnancy/childbirth, water, rain, textile arts, agriculture and natural medicine. In hieroglyphs, her name appears as Chak Chel, which means “Big Rainbow”. Ixchel is one half of the original Creator Couple. Yes you heard it right, the Creator is a companion! There is always a masculine-feminine counterpart in the untold stories of the Creator. The male Creator God is known as Itzamna, the Solar God, the Supreme Being, Father of The Universe, etc. Ixchel, Itzamna’s wife, is also believed to have just been the feminine manifestation of the Creator, as she is the mother of both the Sun and the Moon. Some also referred to as an evil old woman that had unfavorable aspects, due to her association with destruction, floods. But she was honored because of her many different healing powers. She is also depicted as an old woman emptying a vessel of water on certain hieroglyphs.

She is also referred to as “Goddess O�� in the Dresden Codex, the original Mayan Tablets found in Dresden Germany, hence the name.  “Goddess I” is her younger counterpart, ie. a younger projection of herself. She is the Goddess of Marriage; as well as human procreation, as they aid the health & vital functions of the fertile woman. Together, they are the representation of Frigg/Frigga in Norse mythology, which is ultimately Venus. Hence the term Fri-day. See my previous article about the days of the week and their names. But nonetheless, all Venusian deities are Mother Goddesses.  

The serpent on her head not only represents the shedding of old skin, it also represents transformation, Divine Feminine, Healing, Kundalini and Christ energy. She also was known as the Jaguar Goddess of War, due to her fierce ability to protect her tribe the same way a Grandmother would for all her family’s children. Although there is little information regarding her association with the Jaguar. Her energy is very subtle and supportive, and is known to aid both men and women who are on a path to transformation. Just like a Grandmother right?

The Temple of Ixchel

Among the Mayans, physicians and priests hailed her as the patron deity of divination and medicine. Mayan women visited sanctuaries dedicated to Ixchel when they wanted a happy marriage or a child. She has been depicted as overlooking childbirth in scenes painted on vases from Mayan Classic era. Certain other sources also hint her to be an Earth Goddess as well. She has various different expressions and is held to the highest regard out of all Goddesses in the Mayan pantheon. These assumptions are primarily made by identifying one or more of Ixchel’s traits with those of the other deities mentioned. I mean, she is 50% of the creator, isn’t she? Makes sense to me. Below you will see ancient Mayan transcripts indicating that it was advanced levels of science being exemplified.

The Dresden Codex (Mayan Tablets)

Mayan Cosmovision

This is the Mayan depiction of the Earth, cosmos, elements and the 4 corners of the earth. Below you will see Ixchel floating amonst the firmament. The Red, White, Yellow and Black all represent one N, S, E, & W as well as the 4 elements.

Mayan Elemental Wheel & Tree of Life

[dar-almg]

I saw a post recently saying “I wish authors covered books the same way musicians cover songs” and it got me thinking, we kinda do.

obviously it’s hard to do an exact cover of a novel or story - there’s plagiarism and copyright issues there. But we do this in the form of myth retellings and reimaginings of folklore.

for musicians, what makes a song a cover is the use of the same lyrics as another, and usually the same melody. But otherwise everything else is up to a style choice, instrumentation choices, and sometimes even entire genre choices. That’s what makes it unique to the artist covering it. Otherwise it’s just bad or disappointing karaoke.

for authors, we have less to work with. We can’t use exact words from another author (usually) and things like characters and worlds are under copyright well after an author is dead.

but we can play with ideas, themes, plot points, and style. And once the original is in public domain, everything can be used. but let’s focus on myths here.

you have exact, or mostly exact, retellings of myths like @neil-gaiman’s Norse Mythology and Stephen Fry’s Mythos/Heroes/Troy books that do pretty good retellings with the author’s flair thrown in. But on the whole everything is one to one with the source. Those I would say are closest to an exact cover of a song - what the post was probably referring to.

then you have similar retellings that take ideas and plots and insert them in a new context. There’s the classic Hero’s Journey you find in almost everything from Star Wars to Harry Potter to Percy Jackson. Most adventure stories are a remix of that idea. The basic plot is recognizable but the events, characters, and worlds are unique. This would be like a country artist covering a Queen song (or Johnny Cash’s cover of Hurt by Nine Inch Nails).

Reimaginings are the most transformative of this concept. The distinction from retellings here is crucial as they have different implications. A retelling tries to stay close to the source as possible, whereas a reimagining employs the author’s imagination, creativity, and perspective a bit more.

I love both ways of “covering” stories as an author. I love retelling old myths just as much as I love reimagining things with my own twist. Sure, “Dune” covered by Terry Pratchett would be awesome, or “The Lord of the Rings” as told by Dr. Seuss would be…interesting, but there’s so much in taking the myth of Orpheus, Icarus, or Cain and Abel and reworking it for myself.

[hiddenhearthwitch]

✨Witchcraft and Weaving✨

Good morning loves! In so many religions - new and old - handcrafts are used as a devotional act or magical process. In particular, weaving and braiding are meditative exercises, making it easy to add magical workings to the process. Fibers, in one form or another, have been around for thousands of years, so it makes sense that they've would've been used in ritual work as well. Deities and spirits have also been depicted as weavers and sewers. For example Frigg, in Norse Mythology, is depicted as a weaving goddess; in Sweden and some parts of Germany, the asterism of Orion's Belt is known as her distaff or spindle. 

Color! This is probably the most recommended thing you’ll read online and that’s because it’s easy to do and to the point. Consider what you’re weaving and why. Is it a rug to protect your home? A wall hanging to bring in prosperity? Once you know why you’re weaving you’ll be able to narrow down to the colors you need to use. I made a basic list for reference! You can also combine colors for your set purpose. For instance, I have a wall hanging I made that’s a variation of greens and browns in honor ofJörð and to help bring good health to my plants.

Red: passion, love, creative energy, heat, fire, aggression, warmth, comfort, boldness, power, Yellow: joy, summer, the sun, fertility, harmony, hospitality, optimism, improve concentration and communication White: cleansing, inviting in good energies, repels negativity, peace, spirituality Green: prosperity, good health, healing, abundance, fertility, freedom, nature, renewal, reassurance, safety Orange: vitality, innovation, energy, fun, friendliness, attract positivity, welcoming Blue: calmness, clear mind, intellect, good for studying, tranquility, refreshing, can also be cheerful like a clear summer sky Purple: divination, magic, peace, intuition, luxury, calming, knowledge, intuition Black: protection, shielding, repelling negative energy, honoring the dead, stability, magic Brown: grounding, evoke nature, relaxation, stability, protective, comfort, fertility, ancient wisdom, centering, warmth, comfort Pink: love, refreshing, self care, youth, compassion, peace, playfulness, harmony Grey: neutrality, balance, calm, empathy, quiet, cleansing

Devotional Work! You can create pieces to hang in your home, car, altar, to honor a god you work with. You can also spend the time weaving as a devotional act. Every time I weave I do it in devotion to Frigg, it’s a way to show her my love and appreciation for the things she’s taught me. You can also make it part of ritual if you’re choosing to weave something small that’s only going to a minimal amount of time(aka not days).

Patterns! This accounts for a variety of things, for one you can weave sigils, runes, or staves into your piece for a direct magical purpose. You could weave circles to amplify energy, half circles to bring in energy, and lines to move energy. Weaving images that correspond to your intention is another option. For example, if you want to bring in prosperity you could weave images of barley, wheat, mint, or calendula.

Incantations! These don’t have to be complicated or long it can be a simple word for each line you make, or “knot” you weave. I usually think of a small spell to say in the beginning and at the end depending on the works purpose. You could sing a song! Be creative with this but honestly you don’t have to do it at all if that’s not your not craft.

Witches Ladder! Its intent is similar to that of a rosary – it's more or less a tool for meditation, prayer, and ritual, in which different colors and items are used to show one's intent. It can also used as a counting tool, for in some spell work there is a need to repeat the process a particular number of times or to keep count of something. It's also popularly used for knot magic. Also, if you have a strong connection to the moon, you can create a Moon Braid to honor the three different phases of the moon.

You can weave in other materials. This can be a variety of things; a birch twig for fertility, a pine cone for protection, amethyst for divination, the options are infinite! I personally enjoy weaving with twigs and dried herbs the best as they can make your home smell wonderful and they tend to be easier to work with!

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[thenightling]

Who are The Hecateae?

     In issue 2 Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman we are introduced to a trio of witches known as The Hecateae.  Someone in my Sandman Facebook group asked me about them.  Part of why you might not know who they are is because Neil accidentally invented a new spelling for the name.

      The original spelling should probably have been Hecataea.  It all originates with Hecate, the Greek Goddess of magick and witchcraft. In modern neo-Paganism the concept of the Triple Goddess is very popular.  Maiden, Mother, and Crone.

       Their sigil is usually the waxing, full, and waning moon respectively.  

        Neil Gaiman uses the Maiden, Mother, and Crone a lot in The Sandman.  With the Hecataea, and Eve, for example. Eve can transform to a Maiden form, Mother, and Crone. And the story behind this is told in issue 40 of The Sandman, A Parliament of Rooks. The story talks about how Adam may have had three wives, or they may have all been the same woman. And how “both” are true.

      Three women, as a powerful magical force, is popular in folklore and mythology.  There’s also The Fates of Greek Mythology, and the Furies AKA The Kindly Ones.  The Norse had The Norns.  In The Sandman Neil treats them all as aspects of the same entity.

      When Morpheus summons The Hecataea in issue 2 of The Sandman “Imperfect hosts” he refers to them as Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos.  This is the name of the Fates (Moirai) in mythology.  However these characters answer to Cynthia, Mildred and Mordred (Sometimes corrected to Morgan or Morgain).  This is because The Three Witches used these names in their own horror anthology comic “The Witching Hour.”  Nearly every character introduced in The Sandman issue 2 was an old horror anthology comic host.  The title of the issue was a pun. “Imperfect hosts.”  

The horror hosts introduced in this issue are Cain, Abel, Lucien, The Three Witches (The Hecataea), Eve (Also known as The Raven Woman), The Mad Mod Witch (Fashion Thing), and Destiny (now Destiny of The Endless).   Cain, who began as DC’s equivalent to EC’s The Crypt Keeper, hosted The House of Mystery.  Abel hosted The House of Secrets.  Lucien hosted Tales of Ghost Castle (which is retroactively Morpheus’s castle in The Sandman). The Three witches hosted The Witching Hour.  You get the idea.

But before they were even horror hosts, the trio was an architype common in folklore and popular culture. You will find that in most works of folklore and fiction if it’s not a witch acting alone, she’s usually in a coven of three. They’re not literally a Maiden (virgin or child-like), Mother, and Crone.  Sometimes they just fit the physical appearance or personalities heavily associated with these concepts.  

A popular famous example of this is Disney’s Hocus Pocus.   Winifred, the leader, is the Crone of the group as she is the leader and most cantankerous. She’s also the eldest sister.  Mary, the middle sister, is a bit heavier and is maternal toward her sisters.  She loves food and loves to cook and care for her siblings.  This is the mother. And Sarah (though not virginal) is the most child-like.  Much like Cynthia in The Hecataea, she is surprisingly sensual and a bit dim.  

Another good example is Terry Pratchett’s Wyrd Sisters who served as a parody on the trope, particularly from Shakespeare’s famous play.

   Disney’s Gargoyles even had a version of The Sisters. In that continuity they are of Oberon’s court, meaning that they are fae folk.  But much like The Endless in Neil Gaiman’s The Sandman their appearance changes based on who is addressing them.  Goliath and his clan of Gargoyles saw them as human children. Demona saw them as woman Gargoyles (as she does not like or trust humans).  MacBeth saw them as human women. 

              There’s also the Hex Girls in Scooby Doo and The Witch’s Ghost.

     A helpful version of the three appear in the Fairy tale The Three Spinners where, like Rumpelstiltskin, they aid a girl who is forced to spin for a king.

         Once you start to notice it, you realize the three turn up a lot in pop culture.  It’s also common in religion.  In Christianity there’s The Father, son, and Holy Spirit.   Goethe’s Faust has Pagan roots despite its use of demons, Angels, and God.  In fact the entity at the end may well be the Triple Goddess as she is referred to as “Virgin, Mother, and now Queen.  Goddess grant your mercies.” -  A. S. Kline translation of Goethe’s Faust Part 2.  It’s no surprise that this also fits the Virgin Mary. A Maiden and a Mother, and also Queen (as opposed to Crone).

Note: Sometimes the Maiden, Mother, and Crone are actually referred to as Maiden, Mother, and Queen as it’s considered more respectful. 

             In The Sandman, at one point, Morpheus refers to the three-in-one as Witch Queen.

          Again, this is because of the roots with Hecate, Goddess of Magick and spells.  The neopagan popularity of The Triple Goddess also helps perpetuate the archetype.  Almost every witch coven has three (sometimes four) members.  Three is considered the sacred number. And once you notice it, you’ll start to see the Maiden, Mother, and Crone in a lot of things.

         I will also point out here that though it’s popular to consider Midnight The Witching Hour, the actual traditional Witching Hour is three AM or as Ray Bradbury called it in Something Wicked This way Comes, The Soul’s Midnight. 

          Neil Gaiman takes the Hecataea and also uses  The three-in-one for The Furies AKA The Kindly Ones.   

[stainedglassthreads]

Hello! Are you tired of being queerbaited by Marvel? Do you enjoy adaptations of old legends that place the stories in different genres while still making a healthy amount of references to the original legends? Do you follow me for some reason? Do you generally exist on the internet? 

Drop everything and listen to The Bifrost Incident by the Mechanisms this instant. 

Featuring: 

Norse Mythology... in space! There is a space train! The Bifrost is a rainbow wormhole! The train is called the Ratatosk Express! 

Banger songs! Banger lyrics! Incredibly catchy! 

Space train! Space train! Space train! 

Don’t ask how the space train works. =)

There is a murder mystery! On the space train! Or perhaps a derailment mystery? 

She/her Loki. 

She/her Loki who is still married to Sigyn. 

Sigyn, who leads a Midgardian Resistance. Who, after thinking Loki was killed, is built up as being jaded and miserable and hellbent on vengeance against Asgard. 

“And then she sees Loki. And all the sadness and misery falls away in an instant.” 

Extremely fun and interesting and complicated dynamic between Loki and Thor. 

Everyone gets to go feral. Odin gets to go Science-Feral. Loki gets to go feral over her missing memories. Thor gets to go feral over Loki NOT being executed for her crimes like Odin said she’d be. Sigyn gets to go feral over Asgard oppressing Midgard. 

Did I mention banger music. Did I mention that thing where the slowly introduce leitmotifs and then have that one en-of-act-1 song where all the leitmotifs come together in a single song and it’s great. 

Surprise crossover with a franchise you were not expecting! It is Glorious! 

You Will Cry. It is a tragedy and You Will Cry. =) 

It is a tragedy and in the long run the solar system does, inevitably, suffer a horrible tragedy. But the actions of the characters don’t feel pointless. They bought time. Enough time for a person to be born and live a very good life. And it’s not nothing. And if you know your Norse Mythology, you know there WILL be survivors and humanity WILL continue. And it’s a damn good tragedy. 

References to Norse Mythology! If you love mythology and know a lot you will recognize a lot of names and go Oh! Significance! =D 

The Mechanisms are just in general Very Very Very Good Okay. Listen now. Listen now. 

Red Signal is Very Very Very Good. 

It is located here. Listen now. Listen. =)

[lokiondisneyplus]

'Loki' takes over: Tom Hiddleston on his new TV series and a decade in the MCU

Ten years after Hiddleston first chose chaos in Thor, Marvel’s fan favorite God of Mischief is going even bigger with his time-bending Disney+ show.

Tom Hiddleston is Loki, and he is burdened with glorious purpose: After playing Thor's puckish brother for over a decade in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, no one understands the mercurial Asgardian God of Mischief as well as the actor. He can teach an entire seminar on Loki if given the opportunity — which he actually did during pre-production on his forthcoming Disney+ show. In conversation, Hiddleston quotes lines from his MCU debut, 2011's Thor, almost verbatim, and will playfully correct you if you mistakenly refer to Asgard's Rainbow Bridge as the Bifrost, which is the portal that connects Loki and Thor's homeworld to the Nine Realms, including Midgard, a.k.a. Earth. "Well, the Bifrost technically is the energy that runs through the bridge," he says with a smile. "But nine points to Gryffindor!" And when he shows up to the photo shoot for this very digital cover, he hops on a call with our photo editor to pitch ways the concept could be even more Loki, like incorporating the flourish the trickster does whenever magically conjuring something. The lasting impression is that playing Loki isn't just a paycheck.

"Rather than ownership, it's a sense of responsibility I feel to give my best every time and do the best I can because I feel so grateful to be a part of what Marvel Studios has created," the 40-year-old Brit tells EW over Zoom a few days after the shoot and a week out from Thor's 10th anniversary. "I just want to make sure I've honored that responsibility with the best that I can give and the most care and thought and energy."

After appearing in three Thor movies and three Avengers, Hiddleston is bringing that passion to his first solo Marvel project, Loki, the House of Ideas' third Disney+ series following the sitcom pastiche WandaVision and the topical The Falcon and the Winter Soldier. Led by head writer Michael Waldron (Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness, Heels), the six-episode drama sees Hiddleston's shapeshifting agent of chaos step out from behind his brother's shadow and into the spotlight for a timey-wimey, sci-fi adventure that aims to get to the bottom of who Loki really is. "I wanted to explore slightly more complex character questions," says Waldron. "It's not just good versus bad. Is anybody all good? Is anybody all bad? What makes a hero, a hero? A villain, a villain?"  

Even though Loki — who loves sowing mayhem with his illusion magic and shapeshifting, all with a major chip on his shoulder — has never been one for introspection, the idea of building an entire show around him was a no-brainer for Marvel. When asked why Loki was one of the studio's first Disney+ shows, Marvel president Kevin Feige replies matter-of-factly, "More Hiddleston, more Loki." First introduced as Thor's (Chris Hemsworth) envious brother in Kenneth Branagh's Thor, Loki went full Big Bad in 2012's The Avengers. That film cemented the impish rogue as one of the shared universe's fan favorites, thanks to Hiddleston's ability to make him deliciously villainous yet charismatic and, most importantly, empathetic. The character's popularity is one of the reasons he's managed to avoid death many times.

"He's been around for thousands of years. He had all sorts of adventures," says Feige. "Wanting to fill in the blanks and see much more of Loki's story [was] the initial desire [for the series]."

The Loki we meet on the show is not the one who fought the Avengers in 2012 and evolved into an antihero in Thor: The Dark World and Thor: Ragnarok before meeting his demise at the hands of the mad titan Thanos (Josh Brolin) in 2018's Avengers: Infinity War. Instead, we'll be following a Loki from a branched timeline (a variant, if you will) after he stole the Tesseract following his thwarted New York invasion and escaped S.H.I.E.L.D. custody during the time heist featured in Avengers: Endgame. In other words, this Loki hasn't gone through any sort of redemption arc. He's still the charming yet petulant god who firmly believes he's destined to rule and has never gotten his due.

Premiering June 9, Loki begins with the Time Variance Authority — a bureaucratic organization tasked with safeguarding the proper flow of time — arresting the Loki Variant seen in Endgame because they want his help fixing all of the timeline problems he caused while on the run with the Tesseract. So there will be time travel, and a lot more of it than in Endgame. As Loki makes his way through his own procedural, he'll match wits with new characters including Owen Wilson's Agent Mobius, a brilliant TVA analyst, and Gugu Mbatha-Raw's Judge Renslayer. The question in early episodes is whether Loki will help them or take over.

"One of the things Kevin Feige led on was, 'I think we should find a way of exploring the parts of Loki that are independent of his relationship with Thor,' or see him in a duality or in relationship with others, which I thought was very exciting," says Hiddleston, who also serves as an executive producer on the show. "So the Odinson saga, that trilogy of films, still has its integrity, and we don't have to reopen it and retell it."

Yet, in order to understand where Loki is going, it's important to see where he came from.

Hiddleston can't believe how long he and Loki have been connected. "I've been playing this character for 11 years," he says. "Which is the first time I have said that sentence, I realize, and it [blows] my mind. I don't know what percentage that is exactly of my 40 years of being alive, but it's substantial."

His time as Loki actually goes a bit further back, to 2009 — a year after Robert Downey Jr. big banged the MCU into existence with Iron Man — when he auditioned for Thor. It's no secret that Hiddleston initially went in for the role of the titular God of Thunder, but Feige and director Kenneth Branagh thought his natural charm and flexibility as an actor made him better suited for the movie's damaged antagonist. "Tom gave you an impression that he could be ready for anything, performance-wise," says Branagh, who had previously worked with him on a West End revival of Checkov's Ivanov and the BBC series Wallander. "Tom has a wild imagination, so does Loki. He's got a mischievous sense of humor and he was ready to play. It felt like he had a star personality, but he was a team player."

Hiddleston fully immersed himself in the character. Outside of studying Loki's history in the Marvel Comics, he also researched how Loki and the Trickster God archetype appeared across mythology and different cultures. "He understood that he was already in something special [and] it was a special character in a special part of that early moment in the life of the Marvel universe where [he] also needed to step up in other ways," says Branagh, who was impressed by the emotional depth Hiddleston brought to the part, especially when it came to how isolated Loki felt in the Asgardian royal family.  

There was a lot riding on that first Thor feature. For one, no one knew if audiences would immediately latch onto a Shakespearean superhero movie partially set on an alien planet populated by the Norse Gods of legend. Second, it was integral to Feige's plans for the shared universe. Loki was supposed to be the main villain in The Avengers, which would not only mirror how Earth's mightiest heroes joined forces in 1963's Avengers #1 but also give Thor a believable reason for teaming up with Iron Man, Captain America (Chris Evans), and the rest of the capes. Feige first clued Hiddleston into those larger plans when the actor was in L.A. before Thor started shooting.

"I was like, 'Excuse me?' Because he was already three, four steps ahead," says Hiddleston. "That took me a few minutes to process, because I didn't quite realize how it just suddenly had a scope. And being cast as Loki, I realized, was a very significant moment for me in my life, and was going to remain. The creative journey was going to be so exciting."

Hiddleston relished the opportunity to go full villain in Avengers, like in the scene where Loki ordered a crowd to kneel before him outside a German opera house: "It's the unspoken truth of humanity, that you crave subjugation," says the Machiavellian god. "The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life's joy in a mad scramble for power, for identity. You were made to be ruled. In the end, you will always kneel."

"I just knew that in the structure of that film, I had to lean into his role as a pure antagonist," Hiddleston recalls. "What I always found curious and complex about the way Loki is written in Avengers, is that his status as an antagonist comes from the same well of not belonging and being marginalized and isolated in the first Thor film. Loki now knows he has no place in Asgard."

Loki did find a place within the audience's hearts, though. Feige was "all in" on Hiddleston as his Loki from the beginning, but even he couldn't predict how much fans would love him. Feige recalls the reaction at the 2013 San Diego Comic-Con: "Did we know that after he was the villain in two movies, he would be bringing thousands of people to their feet in Hall H, in costume, chanting his name? No, that was above and beyond the plan that we were hoping for and dreaming of." It was a dream Feige first got an inkling of a year earlier during the Avengers press tour when a Russian fan slipped past security, snuck into Mark Ruffalo's car, and asked the Hulk actor to give Hiddleston a piece of fan art she created. "That was one of the early signs there was much more happening with this quote-unquote villain."  

Despite that popularity, the plan was to kill Loki off in 2013's Thor: The Dark World, but the studio reversed course after test audiences refused to believe he actually died fighting the Dark Elves. Alas, he couldn't out-illusion death forever. After returning in Taika Waititi's colorful and idiosyncratic Thor: Ragnarok, Hiddleston's character perished for real in the opening moments of Infinity War. In typical Loki fashion, before Thanos crushed his windpipe, he delivered a defiant speech that indicated he'd finally made peace with the anger he felt toward his family.  

"It felt very, very final, and I thought, 'Okay, that's it. This is Loki's final bow and a conclusive end to the Odinson saga,'" says Hiddleston, who shot that well-earned death scene in 2017.  

But, though he didn't know it yet, the actor's MCU story was far from over.

Credit: Charlie Gray for EW

When Hiddleston returned to film two scenes in Avengers: Endgame in 2017, he had no idea where Loki portaled off to after snatching the Tesseract. "Where'd he go? When does he go? How does he get there? These are all questions I remember asking on the day, and then not being given any answers," Hiddleston recalls. To be fair, it's likely the Powers That Be didn't necessarily have answers then. While Feige can't exactly recall when the writers' room for Endgame first devised Loki's escape sequence, he does know that setting up a future show wasn't the primary goal — because a Loki series wasn't on the horizon just yet.

"[That scene] was really more of a wrinkle so that one of the missions that the Avengers went on in Endgame could get screwed up and not go well, which is what required Cap and Tony to go further back in time to the '70s," says Feige. Soon after that, though, former Disney CEO Bob Iger approached Feige about producing content for the studio's forthcoming streaming service. "I think the notion that we had left this hanging loose end with Loki gave us the in for what a Loki series could be. So by the time [Endgame] came out, we did know where it was going."

As for Hiddleston, he didn't find out about the plans for a Loki show until spring 2018, a few weeks before Infinity War hit theaters. "I probably should not have been surprised, but I was," says the actor. "But only because Infinity War had felt so final."

Nevertheless, Hiddleston was excited about returning for his show. He was eager to explore Loki's powers, especially the shapeshifting, and what it meant that this disruptive figure still managed to find a seat beside the gods in mythology. "I love this idea [of] Loki's chaotic energy somehow being something we need. Even though, for all sorts of reasons, you don't know whether you can trust him. You don't know whether he's going to betray you. You don't why he's doing what he's doing," says Hiddleston. "If he's shapeshifting so often, does he even know who he is? And is he even interested in understanding who he is? Underneath all those masks, underneath the charm and the wit, which is kind of a defense anyway, does Loki have an authentic self? Is he introspective enough or brave enough to find out? I think all of those ideas are all in the series — ideas about identity, ideas about self-knowledge, self-acceptance, and the difficulty of it."

“The series will explore Loki's powers in a way they have not yet been explored, which is very, very exciting.”

The thing that truly sold Hiddleston on the show was Marvel's decision to include the Time Variance Authority, a move he describes as "the best idea that anybody had pertaining to the series." Feige and Loki executive producer Stephen Broussard had hoped to find a place for the TVA — an organization that debuted in 1986's Thor #372 and has appeared in She-Hulk and Fantastic Four stories — in the MCU for years, but the right opportunity never presented itself until Loki came along. "Putting Loki into his own procedural series became the eureka moment for the show," says Feige.  

The TVA's perspective on time and reality also tied into the themes that Waldron, Loki's head writer, was hoping to explore. "Loki is a character that's always reckoning with his own identity, and the TVA, by virtue of what they do, is uniquely suited to hold up a mirror to Loki and make him really confront who he is and who he was supposed to be," says Waldron. Hiddleston adds: "[That] was very exciting because in the other films, there was always something about Loki that was very controlled. He seemed to know exactly what the cards in his hand were and how he was going to play them…. And Loki versus the TVA is Loki out of control immediately, and in an environment in which he's completely behind the pace, out of his comfort zone, destabilized, and acting out."

To truly dig into who Loki is, the creative team had to learn from the man who knows him best: Hiddleston. "I got him to do a thing called Loki School when we first started," says director Kate Herron. "I asked him to basically talk through his 10 years of the MCU — from costumes to stunts, to emotionally how he felt in each movie. It was fantastic."

Hiddleston got something out of the Loki school, too. Owen Wilson both attended the class and interviewed Hiddleston afterward so that he could better understand Loki, as his character Mobius is supposed to be an expert on him. During their conversation, Wilson pointedly asked Hiddleston what he loved about playing the character.

"And I said, 'I think it's because he has so much range,'" says Hiddleston. "I remember saying this to him: 'On the 88 keys on the piano, he can play the twinkly light keys at the top. He can keep it witty and light, and he's the God of Mischief, but he can also go down to the other side and play the heavy keys. And he can play some really profound chords down there, which are about grief and betrayal and loss and heartbreak and jealousy and pride.'" Hiddleston recalls Wilson being moved by the description: "He said, 'I think I might say that in the show.' And it was such a brilliant insight for me into how open Owen is as an artist and a performer.'"

Owen Wilson as Mobius and Tom Hiddleston as Loki in 'Loki.'| Credit: Chuck Zlotnick/Marvel Studios

Everyone involved is particularly excited for audiences to see Hiddleston and Wilson's on-screen chemistry. "Mobius is not unlike Owen Wilson in that he's sort of nonplussed by the MCU," says Feige. "[Loki] is used to getting a reaction out of people, whether it's his brother or his father, or the other Avengers. He likes to be very flamboyant and theatrical. Mobius doesn't give him the reaction he's looking for. That leads to a very unique relationship that Loki's not used to."

As for the rest of the series, we know that Loki will be jumping around time and reality, but the creative team isn't keen on revealing when and where. "Every episode, we tried to take inspiration from different things," says Waldron, citing Blade Runner's noir aesthetic as one example.

"Part of the fun of the multiverse and playing with time is seeing other versions of characters, and other versions of the titular character in particular," says Feige, who also declined to confirm if Loki ties into Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness and/or other upcoming projects.

Making Loki was especially meaningful to Hiddleston because they shot most of it during the pandemic, in late 2020. "It will remain one of the absolute most intense, most rewarding experiences of my life," he says. "It's a series about time, and the value of time, and what time is worth, and I suppose what the experience of being alive is worth. And I don't quite know yet, and maybe I don't have perspective on it, if all the thinking and the reflecting that we did during the lockdown ended up in the series. But in some way, it must have because everything we make is a snapshot of where we were in our lives at that time."

While it remains to be seen what the future holds for Loki beyond this initial season, Hiddleston isn't preparing to put the character to bed yet. "I'm open to everything," he says. "I have said goodbye to the character. I've said hello to the character. I said goodbye to the character [again]. I've learned not to make assumptions, I suppose. I'm just grateful that I'm still here, and there are still new roads to explore."

[pleasantanathema]

Pray to Me

Pairing: Shinsou x Fem Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Gods!AU, Rough Sex, Too Many Norse Mythology References

Word Count: 8.5k

         The frigid waters were laden with blood and ice, the salty waves licking the bows of long boats as they accosted the shores. The dark waters of the bay looked black against the fresh snow, churning oars sending sprays onto the docks as warriors returned home.

           You stood among the crowds, whips of snow billowing past your reddened cheeks, your arms crossed in protection across your chest. Despite losing the men within your family to raids and battles long ago, you always came to welcome back those who were fortunate enough to receive homecoming. Upon the sails of the ships was the symbol of your earl, dancing proudly against the winds of winter as the men and women beneath them hailed their successes from summer and autumn.

           High upon the prow of the leading ship was a carved figurehead, meticulously crafted in the image of Skoll, the wolf who hunts the moon. The wolf’s jaws were wide and within his wooden tongue was an etching of a crescent moon; the wolf with his prey in his maw was a symbol of Ragnarok, a symbol of the return of chaos. And upon the prow was a man you had never seen before.

          The man was all shades of violet and violence. His hair was the color of crushed mulberries, the long strands pushed back and wet from the sea, so deeply purple that it looked as if you were to touch him, your palms would stain with color. Blood, russet and old, crimson and fresh, was splattered across his cheeks. A warrior’s tattoos stained the expanse of his chest and arms; the thick, blue lines were heavy and sprawling from the wood ash buried within in pale skin. And his eyes, they were purple and bright, painted with black kohl. The dark smears ran down his impressive cheek bones and curled up from his eyes, appearing catlike. The curious orbs resembled the farthest stars that lined night sky.

           You expected murmurs from around the docks, but it was as if the man belonged there, towering over all the rest, hands pulling at the mouth of the wolf within the wood. He was silent power within the snow, lean and muscular, body on display as if the storm did not touch him. You felt drawn to him, like he was looking for you high upon the prow. Your feet moved before you could think. You wanted to be closer, to have those violaceous eyes upon you.

           You moved in front of the crowd, standing by the edge of the water, sand and ice crunching underfoot, but when your eyes darted to find him, he was gone. There was no trace of slick purple hair within the throngs of people. Disappointment settled into your spirit and wearily you traveled home to rest.

           For weeks you dreamt of him, saw shadows of him within the corners of your vision; illusions of a dark cat in your windows, a tawny owl upon barren branches.

            Some nights you dreamed you were sinking into a vast violet sea, trying to swim upwards to break against the surface, to breathe air into your lungs and call to Odin to rescue you. But you were stuck, some unknown force pulling at your ankles and keeping you in a watery, nebulous purgatory just below the surface. You would always give up, allow yourself to float within the celestial unknown of the eerie, mauve waters, allow yourself to feel weightless and accept that you were no longer in control. The undercurrents would push you, bring you into strong, waiting arms, and you would awaken, breathing in and feeling like for a brief moment you were whole.

           No one you asked had seen the purple haired man, save those who returned from raiding in the East. One warrior told you that the man you saw upon the prow of the ship was a land spirit, brought with them from the Balkans after blessing them with the gift of fire and aiding their struggles to survive as the weather turned bleak. Another relayed that the man was a spirit of the Wild Hunt, a straggler from the ghostly procession that attached himself to the fleet and brought the callousness of winter with him. No matter what they believed him to be, they had all seen him, the man with violet hair and violent eyes.

           You knew that the sisters were calling to you from The Well of Fate, whispering the future that they had laid before you. Something about the purple haired man, whether he be man, vestige, or spirit, made you believe that you were fated to meet him again.

           Nearly a full moon cycle passed before your curiosity could take no more. In the dead of night, you wrapped yourself in your cloak, ignoring the shadows and wisps of eyes in the dark as you made your way through the sleeping village.

You found yourself before the Seer, ancient and decrypt, asking for him to translate the gods’ wishes and intentions for your life.

           “What questions do you have of me?” His voice was as rickety as the bones that adorned his hut, rattling from stray winds. He had lived hundreds of years and now dwelled between life and death, an interpreter between gods and man.

           “Wise one, I desire to know the gods’ plans for me. I have dreams.”

           “What dreams have come to you?”

           “I dream I am drowning within the bay, and that a man saves me, but only after I stop fighting the currents.”

           There was a pregnant pause between you. The Seer considered your words. Your thumbs fiddled within your lap, and you felt heavy, like you were under the gaze of more than just the ancient one.

           “A precarious quest awaits you, one that will take you between worlds, to the land of the gods.”

           “But I do not understand. I do not adventure, nor travel. I am only a simple healer. What kind of quest could await me?”

           Below hooded eyes you watched a black tongue escape his mouth, worrying across dry lips as he pondered your words. Only a few times in your life had you visited him, well aware that fate was already the master of all, even the gods, as even they were subject to fate just like any and all other beings.

           “You shall go past where the fence separates us from the place of self-willed beasts, finding refuge in that which is chaotic, anarchic, and wild.”

           “But, Seer, I do not—.”

           “Yes, child, I know you do not understand. But such is the way of prophecy, only to be understood when it has happened, and it is too late to change it.”

           You stood to leave, seeds of fear sprouting within your spirit.

           “But do not forget there is order within the chaos.” His voice crackled like fire, calling out to you as you left his home, forging a path through the snow to your own.

           The foresights of the Seer lingered within your disposition, the cryptic words reverberating through your mind and taking hold in your daily life. You started to fight the currents in your dreams, only to wake gasping for breath after monstrous beings pulled you into the abyss. The warm arms of your illusory savior felt farther away than ever before. The murky glooms in the crevices felt stronger, grimmer, the oppressive eyes of darkness following you from every corner, every winter shade.

           Your hands began to slip as you tended to the wounded, your thoughts becoming absent as you crafted medicine or supper, often burning yourself over fires or forgetting ingredients. You felt lost, abandoned by the gods, but still yet you prayed.

           Winter continued to rage on, with the moon living within the sky at all times of day and bathing the world in a constant dusk during the desolate midwinter. Every night before you made for bed, you trekked behind the village to the isolated temple to the gods. No one was ever there. The summer raids were over, the men safely returned with riches aplenty, which, along with the great harvest, had left many believing that the gods were in good spirits and were bestowing ample blessings upon their dedicated supplicants.

           But you, you felt no love from Asgard, felt no promise of Valhalla waiting for you.

           The temple was hardly a sanctuary at all, just a hut overrun by dormant vines and overgrown with dying grass, with an altar for blood sacrifices tucked away against the back wall. Despite being a devoted village, most saved their prayers for their pilgrimage to the great temple in Uppsala, but you had become desperate. You needed to feel closer to the gods, to find the place beyond the fence that was foretold to you.

           You knelt upon a broken stone, obedient hands upon your knees as you began to pray.

        “Odin, all-father and far-wanderer, may you grant me wisdom, and    courage,

         Thor, grant me your strength, wield your hammer to break the barriers that hold my mind,

         Baldr, the beautiful, beloved by all, please bestow upon me joy and light,

         And Freya, mother of beauty, the völva, help me to discern my fate—.”

           Your prayer faltered as you heard steps crunch upon the grass. But the sound wasn’t of footsteps coming towards you, more like someone shuffling, shifting their weight within the temple.

           You were not alone.

           All your instincts began to fight one another. Your mind wanted to flee, to spring your legs and send you running to safety, but your heart felt like you needed to stay, to speak into the twilight for answers. The conflict led to you staying still and being silent. Your hands fisted upon your thighs, your eyes closing tightly. Whatever was there would go away, whoever was there would leave. Maybe there was nothing there at all, only the spirits playing tricks on you again.

           “And why haven’t you called out for me, little one?”

           The voice sounded like vibrations from within the deepest ocean; deep, unfathomable, and a little wicked.

           He was there, before you, arms across his tattooed chest that was on display under emerald linen and violet head cocked to the side. He was grinning, like a cat would upon discovering new prey. His purple hair was arched into wild plumes, his skin rubbed clean but the kohl still upon his cheeks and around his eyes. He was handsome in the firelight, fiendishly so.

           “Who are you?” Your voice was a whisper, so light and airy it floated away into the darkness.

           “Who am I?” He laughed, leaning against the sacrificial altar, a blatant disrespect for the gods.

           “Who am I…” he repeated it, drawing circles in the dirt with his toe. He shifted his weight back and forth for a moment, eyes closing as he picked up an imaginary rhythm.

           “A creaking bow, a burning flame, tide on the ebb, new ice, a coiled snake…”

           Your breath caught in your throat, fingers twitching in your lap. You recognized the pattern and knew what words came next. It was an old saying your mother used to whisper under her breath, a chant for the old women and those who held superstitions. It was a warning, a rhythmic song to help children remember to stay safe, to avoid perils.

           Your mouth opened before you could stop it, finishing the proverb for him.

           “The sons of a king, an ailing calf, a witch’s flattery. No man should be such a fool as to trust these things. For they are the trickster in disguise.”

            “Aha, so you do know me, girl. Yet after all this time, I’ve never heard you pray to me. Why is that?”

              He crouched down to your level, his startling, devilish eyes gleaming like amethyst. He was too close and you felt yourself leaning away, back arching and neck aching as you tried to pull yourself from his gaze.

             “No one prays to you, trickster god.”

              He merely shrugged, a strong hand reaching for you. Rough fingers found your chin, pulling you closer as his eyes danced across the planes of your face. You began to shake, overwhelmed by being in the presence of perhaps the most dangerous god.

            “And how do you know I am he?” he laughed, thumb running over your lips, “I could be Heimdall, sent by Odin to watch over such a devout and…fascinating little creature.”

           “Because you’re so…” you paused as you looked for the words. You felt like you were drowning within his gaze, falling to the ground even though you hadn’t moved since he appeared.

           He stood quickly, turning on his heel and smirking.

           “Because I’m so what? Handsome? Charming? Surprisingly muscular for a god who uses wits and magic to seduce his subjects?”

            He pouted at your silence, wanting more of a reaction.

          “What if I told you I could be beautiful instead? Would that hex you?”

           This time he didn’t give you an opportunity to respond. Within a haze of smoke, he transformed.

           A languid, sensuous body appeared between the mists. Voluptuous breasts met your eyes, smooth thighs peeking from beneath an exquisite olive dress. Long, violet tresses fell down the woman’s back, curling so perfectly she looked to be unreal. But his eyes stared at you from the feminine face, dark lavender and sinister upon high cheekbones.

          “Hmm,” she sighed, holding her hand out for you to take.

          You took the soft hand outstretched to you, surprised at the strength behind the grip as she pulled you to your feet. The goddess was tall and slender, and she gazed at you while she pondered whatever was on her mind.

          “Still not as beautiful as you…” her voice was melodic as she looked over her own body, swaying within the graceful skin for a moment before catching your gaze and stopping. You stood still, heart pounding in your chest as you gazed at the hermaphrodite before you. Her lashes fluttered as a familiar smirk spread across her features.

          It was as if she was floating when she neared you again, purple hair uncontrollable and suspended within the air. Her tender hands came to your cheeks, pursing your mouth with her thumbs.

         “No…nothing is as beautiful as you, little servant.” Her supple lips overwhelmed your own. You gasped, hands flying to her chest to stop her, only to have your fingers sink into the luscious valley of her breasts. A chuckle fans across your face, more masculine than feminine, and the mixture of the voice had shivers of excitement and pleasure racing down to your toes. You were too shocked, too scared to kiss back, but she didn’t seem to mind. Her lips moved against yours gently, pleadingly, only becoming more active when the delicate hands upon your cheeks converted to thick fingers and rough calluses.

           Before your eyes the god shifted again, returning to the fetching masculine figure that he was before. You could smell him now, taste him, like smoke from smoldering coals and the residue of rain from within a summer’s forest. Your hands were still upon his chest, your fingers brushing against the skin that was on display between the open buttons of his tunic. His kiss was intoxicating, a hum of magic upon his lips as he drank you in.

           “You’re a greedy little thing, aren’t you?” He chuckled, licking your lips wantonly before pulling away.

           “Why have you been haunting me?” You demanded between heavy breaths, emboldened by his kiss.

            “Haunting you? No, no. I’ve been watching you. Observing you. You looked so…sinless among the throngs when I sailed in all those weeks ago. I must say I am very pleased by the things I have seen.”

            “And what have you seen?” Your voice snapped; tongue sharp.

            His hands caressed your upper arms, eyes glancing across your body as if he was admiring a pattern within runes that he had seen a thousand times before.

           “You serve…everyone. The gods, the people in this village, you tend to the weak spirited and the broken bodied, you serve everyone but yourself.”

            The god grew quiet, leaning forward to inhale the sweet scent of your hair. His lips pressed to your temple, thumbs stroking your arms through the thin fabric of your clothing. His breath fanned into your hair and you suddenly felt your heart begin to beat more slowly. It was as if his presence alone, his touch, could calm the raging turmoil within your mind.

            “Now, I want you to serve me.”

            “Yes,” you said too quickly, a knee buckling as you prepared to kneel, “of course, anything for a go—.”

           “Shinsou.” His hands held you in place, kept you from bowing to him. He watched as your head tilted and your brow furrowed, obviously wanting to please him. “Shinsou is the name my friends call me, and as shall you.”

          “Shinsou.” You tentatively said the name back to him. Your people knew him as Loki, but to know a more intimate name made tingles of warmth spread across your chest, like he was entrusting knowledge unknown by mortals into you.

           He became violet and beautiful as you said his name, a warm smile decorating his striking face. The safe feeling of your dreams washed over you. These arms, his arms, his hands and his body, were the safety you had been dreaming of that saved you from the tumultuous seas. You stared at him for a moment, hands feeling a heartbeat within his chest. He looked so human, felt so real, yet still an otherworldly air swirled so poignantly around him. Everything inside of you wanted to fall into him, to feel enveloped by his spirit.

        “I’m going to take you away,” he whispered it, hand trailing from your arm to your face, tucking hair behind your ear in a most affectionate way, “you’ll never have to come back here, unless you want to.”

        “Take me away? To Asgard?” Your breath hitched as you said the name of the haven of the gods.

          He laughed, the sound like honey dripping across your soul.

         “No, little one. I am of the giants; don’t you remember the ancient stories? To Jotunheim we will go.”

          Your brow lightened, remembering the words of the Seer. Jotunheim, your brain wracked over the word, letting it roll within your thoughts until it revealed what you were looking for. Útgarðr, you realized, the name of that same place given by your ancestors. It meant the world outside your own, the world of chaotic wilds that surrounded Midgard. The place beyond the fence.

         This Loki—this Shinsou—was indeed fated to you after all. You felt the connection from the moment you saw him sailing in the winter winds, felt it even more profoundly as he held you before him in the temple. For some reason, the trickster god had chosen you, or perhaps he was merely following fate, testing you for all this time to see if you were truly the human girl destined for him. He was a sign of change, his hands wrapped around the prow of the ship that was carved into a symbol of Ragnarok, the end of the cycle of this world. He was proving to be a carrier of the end times, at least the ending of your own mundane life. And just like Ragnarok, you had a feeling that with this end would come a new beginning, that Shinsou was taking you away but leading you to a new life, a new destiny, far beyond what you could ever imagine.

          “Take my hand,” it was a polite command, his words weighty but light enough to promise that you could decline.

            You felt something between his fingers, a quietness, a wickedness you could not quite name. It was like a dull thrum of lightening humming between your skin and his. Billows of smoke weaved between your bodies. Just as quickly as he transformed into a woman, Shinsou had you whisked away, transported so rapidly you felt dizzy. You clung to him, your godly refuge, light flashing as your feet found new purchase upon what felt like a floor.

            For a moment, you thought the room was a mirage. It was unlike anything had ever seen before, so lavishly decorated with lush furs, viridian curtains, polished stone and warm fires. Books lined every wall and the air smelled of perfumes and incense, even a fountain sprung from stones in the far corner. It was truly unearthly, but his arms around you felt like home.

           His head rested upon your shoulder from behind, his palms flattening on your chest to feel your heartbeat as you took in the sights around you.

           “This is…this is your home?” One of your hands gripped a muscular forearm.

            “Mhm, more like a home away from home, a safe haven.”

             He uncurled himself from you, a stout hand pushing at your lower back to urge you to explore. You padded around the room, fingers caressing the spines of books along the walls, finding many in languages unknown to you. Between many of the tomes were vases and trinkets, some glowing with mystic hues, humming with magic well beyond your comprehension.

           “What will you have me do here?” Your breath caught as you turned to find him. He seemed so large and ominous within the space, like was the commander of the room and the only ornament to be admired within the vast collection around you.

          “You haven’t figured it out? My, and I thought you were keener than most mortals.”

            He rolled his shoulders, sighing with content as he removed his tunic, tossing it into the air to only have it dissipate before your eyes in a bright flash of magic. His tattoos seemed darker in the dim light, like the blackest earth pressed into his skin. A serpent trailed down one of his impressive biceps, his other arm decorated in a swirl of runes and etchings of a wolf and a horse, his chest covered with a dark, ethereal depiction of Yggdrasil, the world tree, it’s branches spreading across strong pectorals and its roots weaving between the hard muscles of his stomach.

         “Come,” he motioned to you with his fingers, “come back and touch me.”

          You had no hesitation, coming to his call like a pet would their master. It felt safe to be back in his arms again, to have your fingers running over the indigo lines of art upon his handsome skin. He proudly showed you his arms, eyeing you with great interest as you admired him.

         “Your children,” you mused softly, tracing the pictures so marvelously stretched upon his musculature.

        “Yes,” he laughed softly, “my children. Call me sentimental, if you must.” The enormous snake was no doubt Jormungand, the serpentine dragon that encircled all the oceans, all of Midgard. Then there was Fenrir, the ferocious wolf that was chained away somewhere from all humanity and gods alike, in wait to break his binds and eat the world as the end began again. And then there was Sleipnir, the eight-legged horse that bore the weight of Odin in all of his battles. They were all wild creatures, the offspring of the unfathomably powerful god before you. They were all beasts of anarchy, yet they looked so beautiful upon his skin, so harmless within the ink.

       “Order within the chaos…” you whispered, echoing the words of the Seer.

       “I want you.”

       His powerful voice rumbled from within his chest. It startled you, caused your wandering hands to cease upon his arms and become still before him.

       “Why?” Breathless. You felt breathless.

        “I have traveled every inch of the nine worlds, regarded every corner for fascinations and enthrallments, yet it was in the homeland where I found what I wanted. You are the most beautiful, pliant little create I have ever beheld, and I want you within my bed.”

       “No, you can’t! I’m nothing, no one of importance, you…you can’t.”

        He left you then, smirk adorning his features as he sauntered to his bed, waiting for you to follow. And you did, an unspeakable urge to touch him, to follow him, to feel him, to be overwhelmed by him, drawing you to him like a fox to its den, to its safety.

        “Well, if you don’t want me, my brother Katsuki would give up his fates in order to have such an alluring woman within his sheets.”

       “Katsuki?”

        He paused, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms, that playful grin still upon his lips.

         “Thor, if you rather. We all have many names, but I only want mine to come from your tongue. So many nights I waited to hear you pray to me, call out to me within your dreams, but I tired of lingering. So now I will have you say it, scream it, for me, little servant.”

         He pulled you into his lap, hands greedy upon your flesh, pulling at your thighs and sinking between your ribs. He looked untamed upon the bed, hair almost purposely unruly and muscles rolling and ready to hunt what he wanted to take.

         “Do you think you can do that for me? Pray to me? Call out for me like you need me?”

           Thick fingers gripped at your cheeks; violet eyes hazy like storm clouds above the ocean. You were reminded that he was a devious deity, a shapeshifter, a trickster, the one thing that your elders warned you about as a child. A burning flame, tide on the ebb, new ice, a coiled snake, he was all those deceitful things and more. He was the epitome of chaos, yet he had chosen you, desired you, and you knew that deep within your spirit you wanted him as well. He was handsome beyond compare, but his physical splendor was not all that had you holding onto him. Behind those eyes was a promise of release from every woe, a chance to experience pleasure like you had never known before.

         “Yes, Shinsou, whatever you desire.”

          “So devoted to the gods,” he whispered, bringing you flush against his body, “now I’ll make you feel like one.”

          Slowly, he ran his hand downward, finding the intimate, remarkably soaked place between your legs. He could feel your wetness from beneath your wool coverings and a satisfied groan builds within his throat as his lips curl even more sharply, devilishly.

         “So wet for me already,” he chuckles, wrist flicking and sending your clothing away.

         You gasped, feeling the threads peel away from your body by what felt like imaginary hands. Just like his tunic before, your shirt and trousers were gone, whisked away to perhaps another dimension never to be seen again.

        “Look at you,” he boasts, keeping one hand tucked between your slick thighs as the other rakes across your curves, pinching, pulling, teasing at your flushed skin, “not even the goddesses compare to you. Mhm, thank the All Father for breathing life into you, I must thank him for creating such beauty.”

         Your mouth could barely stammer a thanks. You were beguiled, stunned within his lap, your legs stretched over gloriously muscled thighs. You almost felt shameful to be on such display for him, but the hunger in his eyes and the hardening cock underneath told you just how pleased he was to have you.

        A deft finger began to circle your most sensitive spot, making you bite your lip as a groan burned within your throat. He was slow and deliberate with his movements, gaze catching every breath you made, every shift and roll of your body. You felt hot, unbearably so, as his finger toyed with you so languidly.

       His other hand found your breast, cupping it and testing its weight within his giant palm. His thumb grazed your nipple, circling it at the same pace and movement as your clit. He grinned as he watched you slowly come undone, felt your walls and insecurities crumbling away at his touch.

        Shinsou then took your sensitive clit between two fingers, rolling it so perfectly that it sent sparks of pleasure racing across your nerves, surging from your thighs to your toes and back again. He kept going, stroking sensually, purposely, with such expert skill that you felt you could cum just from his slightest touches. Is this what being with a god felt like? Like you were constantly on the edge of euphoria, every touch and stroke like the gift of life within your body?

      Your head tipped back as you moan, giving in to the overwhelming pleasure. He watched with glee as the column of your throat was on display for him. He took a moment to press his hot mouth against your flesh, sucking roughly against the side of your neck like he was taking your pleasure for himself. You could only moan again, the sensations already drowning you in such bliss you were surprised your inner coil of pleasure hadn’t broken for him already. He was an expert in giving pleasure just like he was the art of manipulation and sorcery.

      All too easily he moved you below him on the bed, his impressive body now hovering over your own, mouth still biting at your neck, fingers still circling your nipple and caressing your pussy.

     “Tell me what you want,” it was a soft command against the slick skin of your neck.

       “You,” you breathed in deep, breasts pressing against his tattooed chest with your inhale, “please, more.”

       “More of what? Of this?” he pinched at your nipple, tugging it and twisting it so wantonly that you couldn’t help but to shriek in pleasure for him, “or this?” his two fingers danced along the lips of your pussy, sliding between the wet folds before returning to your aching clit, swirling against it so proficiently that you felt your inner muscles clenching and begging for release.

        “All of it, I want everything.”

       “My, my, you are a greedy little thing.”

        All at once, he ceased his motions, easing the pressure upon your body and leaving you wanting, burning, begging for more. But he is not gone from you. His fingers, coated in your slick, tauntingly trace over your clit once more, so light it’s like the kiss of life just barely brushing over your delicate flesh. You began to writhe in response, needing more friction, needing more of his touch, but he moved his weight upon your body to suppress you. He was teasing, purposely neglecting to give you the stimulation you so desired.

         “Any time you want more, you say my name, little one. Say my name and I can give you everything you desire.”

         “Shinsou, please.”

          He groaned, he himself coming undone at the sound of your voice. He couldn’t even begin to explain how gratifying it was to hear his name come from your lips. He was no fool of a god, he knew no one prayed to him, but he wanted you to pray to him more than anything he had ever desired before. Your songs of praise would fill him in ways a mere mortal could never fathom; your prayers, his name from your mouth, was more intoxicating than any substance Odin had ever created. To have you, a devoted child of the gods, calling his name while he stole your faith away from every other god and claimed it all for himself, fulfilled him beyond measure.

        His touch trailed lowered, finding your puckered pussy pulsing and waiting, ready for him. He entered a single finger, a heavy moan of approval ghosting against your neck as your inner walls contracted around him, pulling him deeper into you.

        “So fucking tight,” he lifted his head, finding your eyes closed and pretty mouth agape, “I can’t wait to have my cock in you.”

          Waves of pleasure rocked over your body as he moved his finger within you, curling it to massage the fleshy walls, quickly finding a sensitive spot to stroke against. His palm pressed against your clit as he buried another finger into you, the two digits working in tandem to spread you, spear you onto his thick fingers, pushing them far into your depths. Every plunge had you gasping, bursts of bliss spreading across your skin like flames.

         His mouth returned to yours as he fingered you, hot and heavy, but his kiss felt controlled, like he was holding back. You reacted quickly, pushing up into him with all your strength, arms circling his neck and pressing him for more. You wanted what he can give, all of it, and you showed him with your actions. Your hands fisted into those vivid purple plumes of hair, tugging as your hips began to match the speed of the hand working within you. You moaned, loud, desperately, your tongue prodding his lips. He graciously accepted your tongue, opening his mouth and wrestling against you. His tongue licked your own, slow and wet, tasting you and groaning at the sweetness.

        “Shinsou,” it was a murmur against his mouth, but he heard it, soaked it up and began to thrust and curl his fingers faster than before. You cried out at the pleasure, mouth falling from his.

         “You like it a little rough, hm? You’re so easy to read, my dear. I am going to make you cum so hard you’ll be begging for all that I have planned for you.”

            His words had your cheeks and ears burning with a blush. He only grinned, choosing to prop himself onto one arm so he could watch you. With every flick of his wrist, every move of his fingers inside of you, he watched your face. He watched how your lips curled, how your jaw clenched. He felt your hands twist in his hair; felt how you would pull on the violet strands in desperation when he touched the perfect spots. His eyes scanned your body as well, watching what made your breasts bounce, your stomach clench, your walls tighten around his fingers. It didn’t take the god long to discover exactly what made you tick.

          He rapidly increased his pace, using his newfound knowledge to make your body feel like it could explode at any moment. He touched you just right, plunged his fingers so perfectly as to keep you on the edge of your euphoria for as long as he could. Truthfully, he could’ve kept you in suspense forever, but Shinsou was not a god known for his patience. He wanted to watch you cum, wanted to see your face when you came around the fingers of perhaps the most reviled deity. One even you wouldn’t dare pray to.

        “You ready?” He called your name, making your eyes flutter open to see him. He saw the lust within your brilliant irises, your dilated pupils, and that sight alone had his cock harder than it ever had been before. He was no longer sure he could keep his composure as he watched you come undone.

        He leaned down closer, close enough to catch your breath within his mouth. He would’ve expected you to kiss him had you not been so far gone, so close to otherworldly release that your lips could no longer form words.

        “Cum for me,” that wicked tone of voice was back, his fingers now slamming into your body, “cum for a god, little mortal.”

         His thumb returned to your clit, showing it no mercy as he rubbed tight, fast circles against it. His words, his fingers, his body, his breath, it was all too much.

        “Sh-Shinsou!”

          You reached a high you had never felt before as you came for him. Your head felt dizzy, like you were back to drowning within your dreams, waves and waves of euphoria crashing over you so roughly you felt like you were sputtering for air amidst the onslaught of pleasure. Your walls clenched and unclenched around his unceasing fingers, your chest tightening, your core exploding, heat blooming from every patch of skin he had dared to touch. You screamed. Over and over, the bliss felt never ending, and he baited you for even more.

       “That’s right, cum all over my fingers, just like that, just how I want you.”

        It felt like he was drawing your orgasm from your body, pulling everything he could from you. His thumb still stroked your clit, fingers still buried deep within your body as you quivered around him. Your thighs clamped around his thick forearm as you finally began to descend from your high, body loosening and sinking into his bed.

         He finally stilled his movements. He merely smirked as he watched your chest heave with breaths as you basked in the afterglow of your pleasure.

         “Good girl,” he cooed. In the haze you realized how much you wanted to hear those words again, recognized how much you wanted to please him. You wanted more of those encouraging words, more of his admiration, wanted to know how much of a good girl you really were. Your spirit suddenly craved even more, despite the world-shattering orgasm still lingering within your muscles, your blood, your soul.

        You felt empty when his fingers left you, but watched in shocked delight as he brought the digits to his awaiting mouth. He sat up before you, sucking at his skin and cleaning your slick from his fingers with a very greedy tongue. He looked wild, uncaged, like the wolf Skoll had finally eaten the moon and brought the world to end.

       “Fuck,” you whispered in awe, scrambling for purchase against his sheets as you propped on your elbows to watch him.

       He quirked a brow as he slid his tongue between his fingers, relishing your slick as if it was the sweetest honey.

       “I’m sorry, did I make the pious girl curse?”

        “I’m not pious!” You countered, feeling flustered, shaking your head and pouting as he only laughed.

         He smirked as he finished cleaning his fingers, crawling up the bed and pulling you into his lap.

         “I dare not argue, not after those delicious sounds you just made for me.”

          Shinsou quelled any words that were forming in your mind with a kiss, his lips tasting of you. You moaned against him, feeling his arms snake around your back and hold you to him. His cock was hard and heavy, now prodding against your still pulsating pussy.

         “Mhm, how will I take you?”

          It was a pondering to himself, but the words still made you tremble. Your nails bit into his shoulders, your nipples hardening as they brushed against the downy hairs of his chest. His strong hands found the flesh of your ass, lifting you to hover over his large, throbbing erection. You held in a breath, waiting, expecting him to take you hard and fast and now, but he merely teased your entrance.

        “This way?”

          The head of his cock began to spread your lips apart, warm and silken and making you drip even more than before. He sat there for a moment, using the strength of his arms to lift and drop you just ever so slightly onto his cock, each little movement making you gasp.

          But then the anchors of his arms were gone, sliding down your thighs as he laid you back on the bed. So easily he moved on top of you again, one hand gripping your thigh, the other slithering up your body to wrap around your tender, kiss bruised throat.

        “Or perhaps like this?”

         He held you against the bed, cock still hard and waiting between your spread thighs, sliding ever so gently against your pussy. His fingers flexed against your throat and he watched how your eyes flashed with want, with need.

          “I could always take you as a woman. You fell so easily into my kiss when I transformed earlier, hm? Would you like that?”

           He could feel your gulp underneath his palm, shaky and deep.

          “No,” he was smirking, plotting. His deft fingers took your hip into his hand and flipped you over, both hands skimming down your body and pulling you up onto your knees. With a stern hand he kept your breasts pressed into the mattress by applying pressure to your shoulder blades, positioning you just how he wanted. You felt even more exposed than before, your pussy open and wanting and waiting, spread before his hungry eyes like a meal ready to be devoured.

          The head of his cock was back at your opening, prodding your lips apart and slowly sinking into you with agonizing slowness. You held your breath, hands fisting into the sheets. He continued to open you more and more, his cock thick and hot. His hand on your hip constrained you securely, keeping you locked into place. The hand on your back did the same, his hold strengthening as he felt you writhe before him.

        “Yes,” he purred, cock easing into you, “this is how I want my little servant.”

          But the rocking of his hips stopped, the head of his cock now barely pressing inside of you. You breathed heavily against the sheets, sweat trickling down the back of your neck in anticipation. Without being able to see him, face him, you could only feel him. You felt his fingertips press deeper into the curve of your ass, as if readying himself, or perhaps attempting to use restraint. The hand on your back was steady, keeping smooth pressure on your skin. His thighs were solid and strong against your own, his breaths even, his cock so fucking hard.

        You cried out in anguish, your aching pussy clenching around the head of his cock.

       “Please, Shinsou!”

       “Pray to me.”

         His tone was nefarious, teasing, almost inhuman in how deeply it reverberated from within that broad chest. You closed your eyes and imagined how the sound must have climbed the dark branches of the world tree upon his skin.

      “Pray to me like you did to the other gods in the temple. I want to hear that pretty voice beg for me to fuck you.”

        That breathless feeling returned. Your heart began to race, mind rolling around too many thoughts at once that couldn’t be comprehended within your lusty haze. You hastily mulled over words within your head.

         “Shinsou…” you began, feeling his fingers begin to mark crescent moons into your flesh, feeling the tip of his cock throb within your core, “wielder of cunning, god of mischief, I beg of you, please bestow upon me great joy and pleasure, take my body as this offering to you, so that I may serve you and grant you the indulges of the flesh—!”

         With your final praises tumbling from your lips, he slammed his cock deep inside of you, stretching and spreading you and making you feel like he had set your body alight with magic. Your body lurched forward, nearly toppling over from the power of his thrust, but his strong hands kept you in place, allowing him to begin a brutal speed. Your ass bounced forcefully against his hips, breasts jostling with every thrust. One of his hands curled around your waist to your lower stomach, and he groaned when he realized he could feel his cock bulge from inside of you. He became heedless then, impaling you with reckless abandon, eager to feel your belly swell from the onslaught of his cock.

        The forcefulness of his fucking left your muscles aching and your lungs breathless. You were now moaning with every plunge of his cock, as with each stroke he lit a fresh burst of pleasure that rippled across your entire body akin to the streams of enchantments you had seen him wield.

         You felt like you were slipping away, having to fight to keep your thoughts alive as he brought you up the mountain of euphoria with just the heavy strokes of his cock.

        “Don’t fight the currents. Let go for me.” He grunted the words between thrusts.

         You allowed ecstasy to fully wash over your body, allowed his hands to guide you, hold you, take you to far beyond what you once thought the limits of pleasure entailed.

          Shinsou moved the hand from your back to your shoulder, using the leverage to pound your body back against his. You could only moan at the feeling, of being so full of his cock, of hearing his groans join the chorus of your own. You clung to the bed with what strength you have left, allowing him to completely take the reins of control and have his way with you.

          With each and every thrust, he pulled you back at different angles, trying you, testing you, watching you, seeing which way he fucks you makes you react the most. He listened for sharp cries and deep moans. He felt for your walls to flutter, your abdominal muscles to tighten, learned your body and fucked you with a chaotic yet controlled force.

         He leaned over your back, hand moving to your neck, pulling your face up from the sheets. This position has him somehow deeper, head of his cock kissing where the curve of your cavern meets your cervix, farther than any had ever gone before. He filled you to the brim, stretched you so wide you felt you could burst, the intense pleasure of it all bringing tears to the corners of your lashes.

         He brought your face closer to his, so that he can kiss your cheek as he fucks you, feel your hair against his chin, watch your breasts bounce so unabashedly from his force.

         “You like this, hm? Serving me? Letting me fuck you like this?”

         “Yes, yes!”

          He squeezed the hand on your stomach, making you moan as you felt the massive cock from inside of you press against your belly.

        “You like being so full of my cock? No mortal could ever fuck you like I do!”

        “Yes—fuck—you feel so, so good, Shinsou!”

         You could feel sweat on his skin, feel his heart beating like a caged raven within his chest. He felt so human, felt so real, but the euphoria he brought you was transcendental.

        “You’re such a good girl, such a dirty girl, for me, only me.”

         His powerful words were becoming whispers within your hair, vestiges upon your skin. You could only nod, the plowing of his cock into your core now leaving you more breathless than before. You could feel your release nearing, the flames being fanned by every stroke of the head of his cock against your walls, every push of his hand against your belly.

        Your slick was dripping down your thighs, pussy so wet that every time his cock assailed your core your ears were met with the sinful sound of drenched bodies meeting one another in animalistic rut. You were climbing the orgasmic ladder again, aided by the sublime feel of his crushing hands upon your neck, your stomach, his vast chest against your back, rough lips pulling your face into him, and his thick, repetitive cock drumming into you.

      Your mind was on sensory overload, your body uncontrollably bucking against him, begging for another otherworldly release. You could feel your walls clenching around his cock, your body pleading on its own. Pleasure was singing down your body, bringing pure delight and bliss with every pulse, every push of his cock. You were so close, so fucking close, all you needed was for him to allow you to go over the edge. You had submitted to his currents and knew only he could bring the ebb and flow of release.

     You began to chant his name in prayer.

    “Fuck yes, little one, just like that. Oh you’re so good, aren’t you?”

    “Yes, yes,” you choked out, nearly sobbing for relief, “so, so good for you!”

     “Then cum, cum for me!”

      He roared the words against your cheek, his command overwhelming you and sending you spiraling as the waves of euphoria returned, crashing over your body like a tumultuous sea. Your body crumpled underneath his and he held you, the violent tightening of your body sending the god himself over the edge. Hot cum poured inside of you, making you cry out at the magnificent feeling of being completely filled by him. Your snug walls struggled to flutter around the girth of his cock, prolonging your orgasm and making you feel suspended within his arms, gasping for breath and reveling in every dull thump of his cock inside of you.

     He held you for a long moment, hand against your belly, hand around your neck. It was his turn to bask in the afterglow of sex, to feel wholly spent and satisfied with the girl he had handpicked for himself. You were perfect in his arms, hands fisted into his sheets, lips swollen, his seed dripping from where he was still lodged within your depths. You’d let go, allowed him to have you, to take you, and there was no way in the nine fucking realms he was ever letting you go.

     Shinsou kept you within his embrace as he collapsed to the bed, inked chest heaving and Jormungand curling around your back to hold you against him.

    “Mhm, all the scheming I had to do to get you here, in my bed, filled with my cum.”

    “Scheming?” You asked into his chest.

    “What, you didn’t think all those dreams were coincidence, no?”

     You sat up to look at him, all tussled violet hair, kohl on his cheeks smeared, grin upon his lips.

     “And the cats? The owls? All those eyes on you in the dark? All that time spent waiting for you, little one. I even had to whisper my indecent plans to the Seer. Can you imagine that conversation? At least he put it into fun little riddles for you to decipher.”

    “I—I can’t believe you would do all of that, for me. You could’ve just taken me.”

    He snorted at your remark.

     “I did. My hand was forced to interrupt your fucking daily prayer time and beguile you away.”

     You nestled back to him, sinking into his skin, his touch.

     “Well, I am gleefully bewitched.”

      “And to think,” he chuckled, curling a finger under your chin and bringing your eyes to his, “all you had to do was pray to me.”

      You were far too tired for rebuttal, choosing to instead settle with a kiss. He had chosen you. And for that you were filled with adoration, filled with a need to please far greater than you had ever desired to find the veneration of any other god. It was all for him, for a god who had no doubt tricked you into his bed.

__________________________________

This was written for the Citrus Dome writing collab.

[dailylogyn]

Logyn Meta: Loki & Sigyn’s Family in Myth and Marvel (Comparison)

Photo Source: https://www.deviantart.com/youkai-no-shimo/art/Colouring-LOKI-s-FAMILY-260392721

The family that is ready to begin Ragnarok in order to defend your honor. It’s a tragic tale, but family is something worth fighting for!

Follow me as we explore this crazy, wonderful family that is probably the most famous of the Myth’s. 

We may not know much about Sigyn’s side, but Loki’s side is one that legends are made of. 

From the Norse Myths, to Marvel Comics and the MCU, we will see the similarities and differences for each member in the different universes as well as learn facts about each one and why they are important. 

Laufey (or Nál) - Loki’s Mother 

NORSE MYTHOLOGY

She is Loki’s Mother in Mythology.

Mostly mentioned by the matronymic, “Loki Laufeyjarson” meaning: Loki Laufey’s Son.

Her name (Laufey) is typically thought to mean leaves/foilage. Nal means Needle. 

Not much is known about her. We don’t even know if she was a Goddess, human or giant so it is assumed Loki gets his godhood from her. 

In the poem Sörla þáttr, Nál and Laufey are portrayed as the same person: "She was both slender and weak, and for that reason she was called Nál [Needle]." 

Laufey is listed among Ásynjar (goddesses) in one of the þulur, an ancestry that perhaps led her son Loki to be "enumerated among the Æsir", as Snorri Sturluson puts it in Gylfaginning.

Related to nature like forests and leaves.

MARVEL COMICS (Earth 616)

Laufey is Loki’s Father in this universe. 

As Loki was born small, a motive of embarrassment for his parents, his existence was kept a secret.

A younger Loki sends Laufey into a fateful battle between Odin, leading the All-Father to claim Loki as a son. Laufey was left for dead, wounded, but alive, leaving a future Loki to kill him. 

A group of Frost Giants try to revive Laufey by retrieving his skull. It ends with Malekith performing a spell to resurrect King Laufey. 

Laufey hates Loki and thinks of him as a disgrace

It ends with Loki killing his father again after he tries to steal the Casket of Winters and kill Frigga. 

MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE (MCU)

Same as Marvel Comics Counterpart. Appears in the first Thor movie. 

Fárbauti - Loki’s Father

NORSE MYTHOLOGY

He is Loki’s Father in Mythology. 

Attested in the Prose Edda and in Kennings of Viking Age Skalds.

A Jotunn

The Old Norse name Fárbauti has been translated as 'dangerous striker','anger striker',or 'sudden-striker'.

Related to lightning

MARVEL COMICS (Earth 616)

Mother of Loki in this universe.

Gave birth to an unusually small child to the annoyance of her husband.

It is said the night Loki was born that she stabbed her own heart with an ice dagger, but Loki suspects Laufey is the one who killed her. 

Appears as a figment taken on by a parasite. She’s mostly deceased in the comics. 

MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE (MCU)

Does not appear or have a reference in the MCU

Loki Laufeyjarson - Son of Laufey & Farbauti. Lover of Sigyn & Angrboda (and many others honestly)

NORSE MYTHOLOGY

Everyone already knows the tales about Loki, so I won’t repeat it all again. It’s pretty lengthy. I’ll just point down the basics for him with it. 

He’s famous for causing trouble among the gods as the Trickster and God of Mischief. Not a bad guy, but misinterpreted that way, although he can be a dick too. Despite how much he causes trouble for them, he also helps them out of situations too. He just wants to have fun, even if he takes it overboard at times.

Some sources put as Jotun and some say he is Half-Jotun, Half-Aesir (on his mother’s side.) 

A well-known Shapeshifter who can be anything: Salmon, Male, Female, Horse. The list just goes on. 

A really handsome being who loved to get it on. *finger guns*

Blood Brother’s with Odin. How? We don’t know. It’s interpreted as a friendship or foster-brothers. It’s unclear really.

Gonna start Ragnarok for valid reasons honestly after having his entire family taken away from him or killed by the Gods. #TeamLoki

MARVEL COMICS (Earth 616)

Far too many appearances to document here from 1942 to present. There has been some retcons as well with the fact the current Loki has been reborn in a new incarnation also known as Ikol.

In the comics Loki is the adopted son of Odin and Frigga and Adoptive brother to Thor & Balder. 

He’s depicted as being the God of Evil in the classic comics serval times. In fact, it’s one of his titles. 

Depending on the writer for the classic comics, Loki can have moments of humanity, but all around he causes trouble.

Just wants to rule Asgard and get rid of Thor who is his enemy. 

He’s honestly a bad guy most of the time in the classic comics #VillianTrope

I personally have yet to read any current comics of Loki that aren’t the classics so this is where my knowledge and research stops. 

MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE (MCU)

First off, Tom Hiddleston as Loki is just *chefs kiss* perfection. 

Pretty much the same as comics except for the fact he isn’t really a villain. He plays tricks on people for fun and laughs and truly cares about his family. 

However, things change when he discovers the truth that he is a Jotun and has been lied to about it his whole life despite being told countless stories of how Jotun’s are monsters to be slain (You fucked up a perfectly good kid, Odin. Look, he has anxiety and trauma.) 

He develops major identity problems on top of others things, but despite it, Loki tries to still do best by his family as he wants to belong. Yes, he becomes a villain in The Avengers movie, but not for the hell of it. #Thanos

Honestly, he just deserves better. That’s where this leads. Thank you.

Angrboda - Loki’s Consort/Lover (Fenrir, Jormungandr & Hel’s Mother)

NORSE MYTHOLOGY

She is only mentioned once in the Poetic Edda as the mother of Fenrir by Loki. The Prose Edda describes her as "a giantess in Jotunheim" and as the mother of three monsters: the wolf Fenrir, the Midgard serpent Jörmungand, and the ruler of the dead Hel.

A Jotun known as Mother of Monsters and Giantess of Ironwood. 

In Old Norse, Angrboda means: 'the one who brings grief', 'she-who-offers-sorrow', or 'harm-bidder'.

According to scholars, the name Angrboða is probably a late invention dating from no earlier than the 12th century, although the tradition of the three monsters born of Loki and a jötunn may be of a higher age.

Some scholars say she was a very powerful witch and that she had the ability to see into the future. She was confined to Hel and would not be released from the realm of the dead until Loki was unbound.

In some versions of the Myth’s she knows her children will bring about the end of the world (Ragnarok) as well as being a witch set on fire three times before Loki eats her heart. 

MARVEL COMICS (Earth 616)

A giantess of Jotunheim and a Witch.

Born to Elderspawn Vârcolac and Echidna.

She mated with Loki and gave birth to Fenrir and Jormungadr. Legends say she also gave birth to Hela, but it seems to be nothing more but legends. 

Angrboda died of unknown causes and was sent to the Underworld of Hel. 

When Thor needed to know how to get to Hela's realm because she had been taking mortals to Niffleheim, he went to the Hlidskjalf and summoned Angerboda from the underworld, forcing her to tell him how to get there. Once she revealed to Thor the path he had to follow, she tried to take him with her to the underworld.

Only has one appearance in the comics -- Thor #360 (1985)

MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE (MCU)

Does not appear or have a reference in the MCU

Sleipnir - Loki’s Son

NORSE MYTHOLOGY

Attested in the Poetic and Prose Edda. In both Sleipnir is Odin's eight-legged steed and child of Loki by Svaðilfari. He is described as the best of all horses.

The Prose Edda contains extra information saying he is grey. 

Old Norse meaning: Slippy or the Slipper. 

Sleipnir is also mentioned in a riddle found in the 13th century legendary saga Hervarar saga ok Heiðreks, in the 13th-century legendary saga Völsunga saga as the ancestor of the horse Grani, and book I of Gesta Danorum, written in the 12th century by Saxo Grammaticus, contains an episode considered by many scholars to involve Sleipnir. Sleipnir is generally accepted as depicted on two 8th century Gotlandic image stones: the Tjängvide image stone and the Ardre VIII image stone.

Scholarly theories have been proposed regarding Sleipnir's potential connection to shamanic practices among the Norse pagans.

Sleipnir was born when Loki shape-shifted into a mare and became pregnant by the stallion of a giant, as is recounted in the tale of The Fortification of Asgard.

MARVEL COMICS (Earth 616)

There are two different origins for Sleipnir in the comics: 1. Thor fighting off an army of the undead on Midgard. He promised to help as long as his horses weren’t eaten, however, Thor was betrayed and took his horses remains back to Asgard, coupling it with Asgardian Magic to create Sleipneir. 2. Loki had hastily agreed to let a Frost Giant re-build the wall around Asgard, in exchange for the Moon, the Sun, and Freya, only he had to do it in six months. The Frost Giant had only asked to use his grey stallion, Svadilfari. Right as the last brick was about to be placed, Loki transformed into a beautiful white mare, and lured Svadilfari off. Loki later gave birth to Sleipnir. (Just like in the Myths.) 

MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE (MCU)

Odin’s eight-legged steed. 

Sleipnir’s origins are unknown. He appears in the first Thor Movie. 

Fenrir Wolf - Loki & Angrboda’s Son

NORSE MYTHOLOGY

Attested in the Prose and Poetic Edda as the first son of the Jotun couple. He is a wolf destined to kill Odin. So, they bind and seal him when he's still young, with Tyr losing his arm in the process. When Ragnarok comes, he indeed kills Odin, but is killed by Odin's son Vidar in return.

Fenrir is the father of the wolves Sköll and Hati Hróðvitnisson. 

In the Prose Edda, additional information is given about Fenrir, including that, due to the gods' knowledge of prophecies foretelling great trouble from Fenrir and his rapid growth, the gods bound him, and as a result Fenrir bit off the right hand of the god Týr.

No chain can hold him, except for Gleipnir, a rope made by Dwarves containing the roots of a mountain, the breath of a fish, the sound of a cat's footfall, the sinews of a bear, the beard of a woman and the spittle of a bird, all of which were impossible items to obtain.

MARVEL COMICS (Earth 616)

Pretty much the same as his Mythos with some additional storylines. 

When Raganrok happened, Fenrir was reborn with the other gods on the New Asgard universe on Midgard. No details of his fate on Earth have been revealed.

Fenrir helped the mutant Wolfsbane as she was carrying the child of one of his descendants. 

It is one of the few individuals believed to be more powerful, or equally as powerful, as Dormammu; the others being galactic entities like The Beyonder.

Fenrir is Genderfluid in the comics. 

MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE (MCU)

Fenris is a giant Asgardian Wolf who serves under Hela and is portrayed as Female. She resurrects her as they take over Asgard. 

Instead of being her brother, Fenris is her loyal companion and mount. 

Fenris ends up getting into a fight against Hulk as he pushes her off, sending her falling into the void below to her supposed death. 

Appears in Thor: Ragnarok. 

Hel - Loki & Angrboda’s Daughter

NORSE MYTHOLOGY

Attested in the Prose and Poetic Edda. She is a giantess/goddess who resides over the Underworld that is also called Hel, a place where many of the dead reside. She is the daughter of Loki and Angrboda, sister to Fenrir and Jormungandr and usually depicted as the youngest of the three.

Goddess of Death and Graves and ruler of Hel who welcomes the souls of those who died of old age, disease or by accident.

Hel is described as having been appointed by the god Odin as ruler of a realm of the same name, located in Niflheim.

The Prose Edda details that Hel rules over vast mansions with many servants in her underworld realm and plays a key role in the attempted resurrection of the god Baldr.

Old Norse Name Meaning: Hidden

She’s mostly mentioned only in passing. Snorri describes her appearance as being half-black, half-white, and with a perpetually grim and fierce expression on her face.

MARVEL COMICS (Earth 616)

Renamed Hela in the comics.

Allegedly the daughter of Loki and Angrboda, but it’s never made clear or stated. Hela's genealogy is the subject of controversies and retellings. 

Her path pretty much follows her Mythos where she is destined to do terrible things and Odin makes her the ruler over the dead in the realms of Hel and Niflheim until maturity. 

At some point, she was considered the daughter of Odin and of a long-lost goddess.

Honestly, she usually tries to expand her powers, wanting to rule over Vahalla and obtain Asgardian souls. 

MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE (MCU):

Appears in Thor: Ragnarok as Odin’s firstborn and only daughter. Sister to Thor and Loki.

Kinda pissed her dad locked her away and wants to rule Asgard and take revenge.

The cause of Ragnarok and supposedly dies on Asgard after everything is said in done in the movie.

Jormungandr - Loki & Angrboda’s Son

NORSE MYTHOLOGY

Usually depicted as the middle child of Loki and Angrboda, he is known as the Midgard Serpent or World Serpent who is a giant snake. When Odin takes Loki’s kids away from him, he tosses Jormungadr into the ocean that encircles Midgard. The serpent grew so large that is was able to surround the Earth and grasp it’s own tail. When it releases it’s tail, Ragnarok will begin and he will fight his arch-enemy, Thor. 

The major sources for myths about Jörmungandr are the Prose Edda, the skaldic poem Húsdrápa, and the Eddic poems Hymiskviða and Völuspá. Other sources include the early skaldic poem Ragnarsdrápa and kennings in other skaldic poems; for example, in Þórsdrápa, faðir lögseims, "father of the sea-thread", is used as a kenning for Loki. There are also several image stones depicting the story of Thor fishing for Jörmungandr.

MARVEL COMICS (Earth 616)

Both Loki and Angerboda were descended from the Frost Giants of Jotunheim and were of humanoid appearance; however, the sons Angerboda bore Loki, Jormungand and the Fenris Wolf, did not. It has been suggested that Jormungand and the Fenris Wolf were born as sentient animals because their parents each had the magical ability to change his or her own shape. Hence, Jormungand and the Fenris Wolf each bear the form of the animal that their parents had assumed at the moment they were conceived.

Jormungandr follows the same as his Mythos to a certain degree with his fate to fight Thor during Ragnarok as the God of Thunder would die from his venom. 

MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE (MCU)

Does not appear or have a reference in the MCU

Sigyn - Loki’s Wife

NORSE MYTHOLOGY

Sadly, not many stories that have Sigyn in them have survived to this day. She is only attested in the followings works: Poetic Edda & Prose Edda. 

The most famous of her story tells of how Loki has been bound by the gods with the guts of his son, Nari, and how his son, Vari, has been turned into a wolf. The Goddess Skadi fastens a venomous snake over Loki’s face, from which venom drips. Sigyn, stated as Loki’s wife, stays by his side and holds a basin under and catches the venom so it won’t drip onto her husband, but when the basin grows full, she pulls it away to empty it, during which time venom drops onto Loki, causing him to wither so violently that earthquakes occur that shake the entire earth.

In the poem, Gylfaginning, Sigyn is introduced in Chapter 31 as being married to Loki and that they have a son by the name of “Narfi or Nari”. She is then mentioned again in Chapter 50 where events are described differently than in Lokasenna; Vali, described as a son of Loki only, is changed into a wolf by the gods and rips apart his brother, “Narfi or Nari.” The guts of Nari are then used to tie Loki to three stones, after which the guts turn to iron, and Skadi places a snake above Loki. Sigyn of course catches the venom in a bowl. This process is repeated until he breaks free, setting Ragnarok into motion.

In the poem, Skáldskaparmál, Sigyn is introduced as a goddess, an Æsir, where the gods are holding a feast for their visitors and in kennings for Loki: “husband of Sigyn” and “cargo [Loki] of incantation-fetter’s [Sigyn’s] arms.”

Old Norse Name meaning: Victory Girlfriend. 

MARVEL COMICS (Earth 616)

Lonely and looking for female companionship, Loki ends up coming across Sigyn and plans to make her his. However, she is already engaged to a warrior of Odin’s Crimson Hawks -- Theoric. Hence, Loki sets up a trap to have Theoric killed during a mission so Loki can disguise himself as Theoric. Once they are wed, Loki reveals himself and despite Odin attempting to annul the marriage (which goes against Asgardian Law)), Sigyn tells the Allfather that she will follow the duties of a loyal wife since she is Loki’s now. 

This is when Odin proclaims her to be the Goddess of Fidelity. This was a thing first started by the Marvel Comics.

Sigyn doesn’t have much of an agency in the comics except being a loyal wife to Loki, sometimes going along with his plans or getting on him for it. 

I personally haven’t been able to find any evidence of Sigyn’s parents being Iwaldi and Freya in the comics, so I’m not sure if this fact is Fanon or not. 

Sigyn has suddenly seemed to vanish from the comics with her last official appearance being in 1996. It has been allueded at that she died or was killed during Ragnarok. 

Her relationship with Loki in the comics is...complicated and changes a lot depending on the writer. 

MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE (MCU)

Does not appear or have a reference in the MCU

Narvi/Narfi & Vali - Loki & Sigyn’s Sons

NORSE MYTHOLOGY

Not much is known about Narfi and Vali except for being Loki & Sigyn’s sons with Vali being transformed into a wolf by the gods and killing his brother whose inners are used as a chain to bind Loki in the cave. 

Narfi and Vali are referred to in a number of sources. According to the Gylfaginning section of Snorri Sturluson's Prose Edda, he was also called Nari and was killed by his brother Váli, who was transformed into a wolf; in a prose passage at the end of the Eddic poem "Lokasenna", Váli became a wolf and his brother Nari was killed.

Snorri also names "Nari or Narfi" as the son of Loki and his wife Sigyn earlier in Gylfaginning, and lists "father of Nari" as a heiti for Loki in the Skáldskaparmál section of his work.

Narfi’s name could mean “Corpse” in Old Norse, relating to how he was killed by his brother. 

There's no mention of what became of Vali after he became a wolf.

MARVEL COMICS (Earth 616)

Narvi never makes an appearance in the comics and is only mentioned in: Free Comics Book Day Vol 2018 Avengers. 

There is a Vali in the comics called Vali Halfling. He is the son of loki and a unnamed mortal woman. So, I don’t consider this to be the same Vali that is the son of Loki and Sigyn. 

MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE (MCU)

Does not appear or have a reference in the MCU

_________________________________________________

Thanks for reading everyone. This required a bunch of research, but I hope this helps and has been educational. We only have what we can work with considering the surviving myths, but there is so many stories out there that we don’t know of that aren’t clear because of it. 

I tried my best to cover everything I knew about them in Marvel too, but sometimes so many retcons is too much to keep up with. I know there may be some errors in places, but it’s the best I could get this with what we have to work with.

SOURCES:

https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Laufey_(Earth-616)

https://marvelcinematicuniverse.fandom.com/wiki/Laufey

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Laufey

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fárbauti

https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Farbauti_(Earth-616)

https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Angerboda_(Earth-616)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Angrboða

https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Hela_(Earth-616)

https://norse-mythology.org/gods-and-creatures/giants/hel/

https://norse-mythology.org/gods-and-creatures/giants/jormungand/

https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Jormungand_(Earth-616)

https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Sleipnir_(Earth-616)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sleipnir

https://marvelcinematicuniverse.fandom.com/wiki/Sleipnir

https://norse-mythology.org/gods-and-creatures/giants/fenrir/

https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Fenris_Wolf_(Earth-616)

https://marvelcinematicuniverse.fandom.com/wiki/Fenris

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sigyn

https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Sigyn_(Earth-616)

https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Narvi_(Earth-616)

https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Vali_Halfling_(Earth-616)

https://norse-mythology.org/gods-and-creatures/the-aesir-gods-and-goddesses/loki/

https://marvel.fandom.com/wiki/Loki_Laufeyson_(Earth-616)

https://marvelcinematicuniverse.fandom.com/wiki/Loki

https://skjalden.com/narfi-and-vali/

https://marvelcinematicuniverse.fandom.com/wiki/Hela

[hjartasalt]

About Marvel's Loki, white supremacy, norse mythology, and Ásatrú

For the past few days now I've been noticing more and more posts about Marvel's new show Loki and as a heathen registered in Ásatrú I feel the need to speak up about the issue I have with it.

What is Ásatrú?

Ásatrú is an ancient religion predominantly practiced in Iceland centered around norse mythology, otherwise known as heathenry or paganism (note: there are different types of paganism). For a very long time now, it has been regarded as a dead religion by the majority of the outside word. As a heathen myself, I am here to tell you that it is not.

When the first settlers arrived in Iceland from Norway, they brought Ásatrú with them, as Norway had yet to be converted to catholicism. For a few centuries, Iceland was a thoroughly heathen nation. There are countless stories (commonly referred to as "sagas," which just means story in Icelandic) detailing their lives along with their belief. This lasted until the year 1000 A.D., when the king of Norway sent catholic missionaries to convert the nation. People were given the choice to either become catholic, or die with their religion.

Ásatrú isn't dead, and it didn't die by itself. It was murdered.

I highly encourage those who have the time to inform themselves further outside of tumblr, such as through the following links:

It breaks my heart to think about what happened to my ancestors all those years ago. We heathens aren't violent, we aren't degenerates. We're good people who believe in peace above all else. And with that out of the way, I would like to discuss it in relation to white supremacy and pop culture.

My problem with Marvel:

Circling back to the widely held belief that Ásatrú is a dead religion, and to be entirely fair for a period of time it was before we brought it back, Marvel saw no issue with making their characters based on norse mythology.

Please, just take a moment to think about this.

Imagine the public outrage if Marvel were out here making Super Jesus or the Amazing Shiva. Take a moment to comprehend that they took religious figures and turned them into fun quirky characters. And the reason no one fought back? Everyone who would have done so had been murdered for their belief hundreds of years before.

I know that everyone is tired of everything always being awful, of never being able to enjoy something without feeling that it takes away a part of your morality, but I am begging you to please listen to us when we say that Marvel has turned our religion into a grossly American joke. I don't blame anyone for enjoying their content, but I need more people to know exactly where it originates from. And keep in mind that all of this is said aside from their gross mispronunciations and spelling of people's names, which they claim to be accurate.

Ásatrú and white supremacy:

Now, this is something that disgusts me far more than Marvel's insensitivity. When I tell people of my religion, they often imagine a number of unpleasant things such as blood sacrifices, worshipping plastic superhero figurines, or worst of all that I believe in white supremacy.

I'm sick and tired of horrible people robbing us of things that are near and dear to us. It causes me grief that when I see someone displaying a religious symbol of ours, it's often done with hate in mind.

We do not practice hate. We accept everyone as they are. Ásatrú is a religion built on love, not hate.

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Yeeaaah… so this ended up turning out longer than I intended… but it’s a theory I felt like sharing nonetheless. Hopefully tumblr doesn’t eat this & if this is too long or odd to answer… don’t worry, I understand. I just wanted to share while it was in my head, ya know? So: Long Post Warning!

I am not 100% caught up on every chapter yet, but I do have a brief understanding of all the events up til now. So please forgive me if this has been revealed and I just don’t know about it yet.

Bell 🧚🏻 = wind spirit🌬🌪

Salamander (who honestly looks more like a dragon than a salamander so he’s gettin’ the dragon emoji) 🐲 = fire spirit 🔥

Undine 🌊 = water spirit💧

As far as I know, we don’t yet have an inkling of who the earth spirit will be or to whom he will “choose” to contract with.

Tbh, I have a some of feelings about possibilities surrounding the earth spirit…

Bell and Undine are both obviously women and I’m 96.8% sure that Salamander is a boy… but who knows, I also wouldn’t be the least bit freaking surprised if Tabata threw that back in our face and Salamander ends up being a girl like in Shrek (and on that note, I just need to ask, in Shrek 2 when Shrek and Donkey drank the Happily Ever After Potion, it’s described as “"Happily Ever After Potion maximum strength. For you and your true love. Drink of this potion and bliss will be thine, happiness, comfort, and beauty divine.” This stuff turned both Shrek and Fiona human while it turned Donkey into a pure white stallion… am I the only one that still gets peeved we never got an answer on wtf that stuff did to Dragon??? Or how it would’ve affected their dragon donkey hybrid babies??? That’s the only thing that irks me about Shrek 2… okay, whew, now that I’ve gotten that out, back to Black Clover theorizing)

Going by the assumption that Salamander is most likely a boy, it would stand to reason that the earth spirit has a good chance at being male as well like 2 female spirits, 2 male.

Salamander’s inspiration obviously comes from dragon lore, I can’t find one singularly specific mythology reference Tabata would have based Salamader on so I’m guessing Salamander is based on dragon lore.

Bell has, for the most part, 2 inspirations Tabata based her on. The main one being Sylphs have power over the skies and air. They've been delineated to have control over the wind and the clouds, and even have the ability to purify the air and control the weather itself. Sylphs are not officially from a specific type of mythology, but if they were to be categorized they’d qualify as European folklore, same as Undine and Gnome which will be explained a few bullet points later. The second and most obvious (my fav of the 2) inspiration Tabata drew from for her character is Tinkerbell; from the blond hair, green dress, gets pissed when male partner pays attention to any female that isn’t her, yeah no denying she’s based on tinkerbell; my guess is Tabata combined her with Sylphs wind magic because it was Tinkerbell’s pixie dust that Peter, the lost boys, and the Darling children used to be able to fly. “Faith, trust, & a little bit of pixie dust” (Which is even more perfect because, even if he doesn’t show it, there is no one else in the series that has more faith & trust in Asta than Yuno does… Yuno’s infinite faith/trust in Asta both drives their rivalry forward and, by this logic, is one of the very reasons Yuno can sore so high🥰).

Undine is the only spirit character, for now, that is directly based off of a real water spirit in European folklore (again, even though Sylphs technically qualify to be categorized under European mythology, as far as I know, they are not officially categorized as such which is why I say Undine is the only one) - “Undine, also spelled Ondine, is a mythological figure of European tradition, a water nymph who becomes human when she falls in love with a man but is doomed to die if he is unfaithful to her.” Being that Undine is described as being able to take human form when she falls in love with a man *cough cough* Ariel *cough cough* Black Clover’s Undine’s background states that she made a contract with the first queen of the newly formed Heart Kingdom and has thus stayed loyal and made a contract with every Heart Queen since. Maybe she fell in love with the father/brother/husband/male-figure associated with the first queen and since the queen is the predominant ruler of the heart kingdom - Undine made a contract with her to be close to this man while knowing he could/would never be hers… she wouldn’t die if her love is one sided… if her love is unsaid and unrequited then anything this man does with another woman isn’t considered being unfaithful.. and maybe she’s maintained contracts with every Heart Queen since out of sheer devotion, loyalty, and love to that original man whom she took human form for. Or she was in love with the first queen and has made a contract with every queen since out of sheer devotion, loyalty, and love not on just for that first queen but every one of her descendants. Who knows?

Tabata’s mythological references (demonology excluded because that a whole other thing) for the most part mainly circulate around Greek mythology, Norse mythology, and European folklore.

Going based off of Undine (and Sylphs) , there’s a strong possibility that this yet to be named earth spirit will possibly directly based on, even if only slightly, someone of those three categories above.

Greek mythology, I find somewhat unlikely seeing as there’s no official male god of earth in Greek mythology. There are deities that have roles related to the earth yeah… but no god surround the earth itself or the element itself. The closest thing to a god of earth in Greek mythology is Gaea - goddess of earth. Simplify it to god of dirt and still the only result is Demeter goddess of agriculture (which seems similar to Mimosa in some ways but I don’t think she will obtain an earth spirit because I think the earth spirit will have more to do with mineral earth than plants and agriculture). If there is to be any inspiration drawn from Greek mythology in terms of an earth spirit, but even this seems a little unlikely, my guess would be possibly some characteristics from Satyrs seeing as they are the male equivalent of nymphs - what Undine is technically classified as.

Norse mythology seems a bit more, but not by much at first, plausible in terms of gathering reference for an earth spirit. It probably wouldn’t be the Norse God of Earth Jörd because she is still technically a goddess and mother of earth like Gaea. However, Norse mythology does have a deity of rocks - Hrungnir is a jötunn (a type of entity contrasted with gods and other non-human figures, such as dwarfs and elves. The entities are themselves ambiguously defined, variously referred to by several other terms, including risi, thurs and troll). There is also one more Norse aspect that goes along these lines - Dvergar or Norse dwarves are entities in Norse mythology associated with rocks, the earth, deathliness, luck, technology, craft, metal work, wisdom, and greed.

Norse mythologies depictions of both jötunn and dvergar tie into the third category of European folklore’s depiction of earth deities/spirits. In European folklore, Gnome, is a dwarfish, subterranean goblin or earth spirit who guards mines of precious treasures hidden in the earth. He is represented in medieval mythologies as a small, physically deformed (usually hunchbacked) creature resembling a dry, gnarled old man. - this description is similar to that of jötunn/dvergar and also ties into Charmy being revealed as part dwarf which will most likely be explored in a later arc.

Tbh, I picture this guy’s personality being somewhere between Grumpy from Snow White, the grumpy but well-meaning and wisecrack Lorax, and Phil from Disney’s rendition of Hercules… (not only does imagining this type of personality have me laughing… imagining the 2 most whom I find most likely to be chosen by this earth spirit… imagining them being partnered up with this personality has me near cackling😂)

As for the 2 whom most likely might be the “chosen one” of this earth spirit?

Even though he is technically described as being Arcane in terms of his magical attribute, Mercury is by definition “a naturally-occurring chemical element found in rock in the earth's crust, including in deposits of coal.” So mercury is naturally occurring, derived from earth, and the fact that it can come from deposits of coal ties in perfectly to the hypothesis of this earth spirit/deity being along the lines of dwarves which (not JUST in Snow White) are heavily associated with miners in various mythologies and folklores. So even though technically classified as being arcane, I do think Nozel has a strong possibility of being chosen by the spirit of earth (+ it would make for an EVEN MORE epic rivalry between Nozel and Fuegoleon if they both have an elemental spirit) (++ based off of how dwarves are depicted in mythology and based on how I decribed how I think this guy’s personality will be, I can see this guy as wise/rational but also getting grumpy/irritated easily with a short fuse and just imagine him getting irritated and kicking Nozel in the shins when when he doesn’t communicate his feelings properly & almost always kicks Solid/Nebra/Augustus in the shins when he says something he shouldn’t have - omg this guy’ll be a hoot!!🤣)

The second possible “chosen one” of this earth spirit could be Sol. Not only is she 100% raw earth magic but I also feel like it would balance her out a bit having a male spirit attached to her and that’s where the wisdom side of the Lorax/Phil could kick in and help her not only improve as a mage but also as a person helping her not see things so one sided. You notice, even though the Blue Rose Knights are an all girl squad… Sol is the only one that goes to that much of a degree in despising men; everyone else on the squad detests men on the surface but for the most part not truly. Charlotte keeps up the façade of detesting men to both appear strong for her squad ladies but also to mask her own insecurities. Sol, while she has gotten a little better since her initial introduction, is the only one who barely tolerates men… the only one who’s depicted as not having a façade and genuinely detests all men with a few exceptions. Having a male spirit like character who does not take her BS (*shin kick💥*) but also offers her wisdom and guidance that helps her grow as a person would be phenomenal for her character overall.

I find Nozel to be the more interesting outcome (NO! not just because I’m a Nozel simp… who told you that? They lie) but either of these characters would be interesting and could improve drastically in character development and as a mage having someone like this joined at the hip.

What are your thoughts?

– Grimoire_Girl📚

OKay, okay *takes a moment* (Also: did I just stop what I was doing, just to read and reply to this? .... Maybe)

I'd like to platonically kiss you on the mouth (with your consent ofc, because consent is a big thing on this blog), because I love this. Okay the Fue simp in me was hoping to have more of him, but in the end I didn't even mind. And can I just say that I love, lovelovelove the idea of Nozel getting the Elemental Spirit of Earth.

The theory is made *so* *much* *better* by the mental image of him (supposedly 'him') being a Lorax/Phil (from now on, let's call him Phorax). Because can you just imagine this duo?! Nozel, our lovely tsun-tsun who is in need of a big, warm hug and therapy. (Like Nozel, sweetie, I know that there aren't many therapists around, but you need to talk to someone.)

I'm also thinking that since it's probable that there'll be the 2-2 divide between boy/girl spirits, because I kinda agree with you on Sal being a boy (I'm aware of Shrek 2, but unfortunately I have no answers, but I laughed *so hard* while reading that), if there'll be a divide between the Spirit forms that have wings. Because I can't see the Earth Spirit giving a flying Spirit Dive form.

I mean, what, everyone else, aka the rest 3 spirit owners can rise to the skies and then Nozel is left behind like a plucked chicken? (I'm so, so sorry for that comparison, but ain't no one leaving him behind! Nozel. Needs. To. Be. Included.) I don't think that's fair. So, it could very well be that the two else give a "grounded" Spirit form, and Bell and Undine give a flying form.

Aaaanyways... I do like your theory/thoughts on how Undine came to be. And I could very well see that to be canon.

I, honestly, have nothing further to add at this point. Because this is brilliant. I love this.

But Tabata please, give us a tiny bit more lore. Please? A pretty please