#queen-yggdrasil

[iwontusethis255]

WADDLE HAT FANS I SUMMON THEE, FOR THIS IS...

THE KIRBY AU EVER (stylized as "the kirby au ever.")

CHARACTERS

Kirder (they/them): fanon “kills gods for cake” kirby, no personality, essencially a weapon of mass destruction used by The Queen for whatever endangers the place

Met Nit (he/him): literally the exact same personality but is shittily drawn in ms paint, the text changes for what's funny, but it is physical

Queen Thethethe (The Queen for short, rhymes with Dedede) (she/her): essencially a sassier Dedede in drag, dress changes between shots

Waddle Hat (Wadhat for short, Waddle Dee with a hat for long) (she/her): literally the most milquetoast, basic, average gal, lowest ranking of these 4, as Met Nit is The Queen's left hand, and Kirder is the afformentioned weapon, so she's rarely needed

Mark (he/him): extremely serious. Still in a jester fit for inexplicable reasons, whats his deal

Magolor 2 (he/she): grey and has a red 2 on them, otherwise normal, if not stupid and easy to fool (created by @xmagicalpotatox)

Sussy (she/her): weird holographic angler fish thing attempting to lure people to the shadows. how wacky! what a jokester she is!

The Ranza (she/her): genderbent. Looks identical. more studious and somewhat of an inventor, marital status unknown

Fecto Sapphilis (she/they): once contained being, didn’t revert to “elfilin” as there isnt one, now just hangs around, in lesbians with wadhat

Mropho (they/he): 2010s tumblr sexyman twinkified god (/neg) and probably not much else

Yggdrasil, Crown of Natura (Yggdrasil, Crown of Natura): the main villain.(..?) The Lone Evergreen. WAY too serious for the circumstances, you must refer to Yggdrasil, Crown of Natura only by Yggdrasil, Crown of Natura's name

Rope MF (he/him): An anomaly. really likes ropes. wait... what was I talking about...? (created by @mint-termsandconditions)

Wow! what funny wacky joke characters!

.

..

...

What if I gave them serious lore.

LORE

in the ancient past, flora and plantlife grew throughout the world... until Haltmann Co. arrived. with their machinery and aided by a mythical figure named Opho, they had successfully eliminated any and all plant life on the planet, but somehow managed to fail and die off. and in their rubble, on the fiery wings of a butterfly, a single sapling grew from the ash. meanwhile, a lone computer program was left standing, 5U557.exe. this was a failsafe meant to assist the empire should something go wrong, so Sussy began to rebuild an already doomed and deceased populous.

in more recent times, the brilliant scientist The Ranza and her assistant Mark have successfully created The Dimensional Mirror. this device allowed anyone to travel between dimensions. The Ranza allowed her lovely wife to test it out first, with Mark to go with and assist with return. but unfortunately, the woman was lost, and Mark had seen things he was never meant to, and gone mad. The Ranza used the mirror daily to search for her lost love, eventually discovering that intense dimensional travel made the very fabric of reality shake and shutter, so she sadly gave up on finding her love. meanwhile, Mark had adorned himself in jester attire and decided to rule the world to "PROTECT IT FROM THE FLAMES." as he put it. Kirder was easily able to defeat him, and he seems to be back to normal.

more recent now, a gal by the name of Magolor 2 was strolling through the worlds wonderous mushroom forests when she noticed something... the ground was covered with strange flat green oval things... weird... she turned around to try and sell the new find, but tall brown spikes suddenly covered her exit. only one way now. a voice beckoned to her. to follow. to LISTEN. and soon, she came face to face with a life form she could not comprehend. Yggdrasil, Crown of Natura spoke with her, saying that if she helped the tree gain control of this world, she would surely be rewarded. Magolor 2 accepted the offer and was soon overtaken by odd green snake like things puppeting her every motion, and with their powers combined, they attempted to sieze the world. Kirder stopped them immediately, but Magolor 2 continued to serve Yggdrasil, Crown of Natura, now a known threat to The Queen.

This is where Waddle Hat comes in. she had recently passed her Waddle Guard trials with mediocre colors, but since she was the only one who showed up to work past day one, she quickly rose the ranks. until she found a new member of the group. a quaint little fellow, said his name was Rope MF, then proceeded to talk Wadhat's nonexistant ears off with rope trivia. the two have been best friends ever since. one day on a patrol sent by the queen to investigate a weird thing underground, the two found a large crystal with a large being place inside, dormant. Rope MF accidently broke the crystal, and the impossing figure stared down at the two with a glare in their eye. then introduced herself as Fecto Sapphilis.

Days became weeks became months as the 3 became more and more tightly knit, with Wadhat and Sapphilis eventually starting to date. Rope MF is not a good wingman, by the way. regardless, the three frie

Days became weeks became months as the 3 2 became more and more tightly knit, with Wadhat and Sapphilis eventually starting to date. R̸̛̝͐̊̽̆͗̋̃̔̈͛̔͝ơ̴̧̢͔̞̯̥̬̖̱̣̙̖͕̲̠̊̌̏̈̈́̌̚̚͘͠p̸̡̛͚̻̺̥̘̟̀͑͋́́̔͒͝͝e̴̛̥͇̗̩̊̓̑̋͌͂͆̈́́̈́́̐͝͝ ̵̡͈̝̝͕̱͓͙̩̞͕̍͑̿͜M̶̙͖͙̬͎̣̮͒͆̾̊͝F̷̛̘͈̤̯̳̭͚̜̮̭͕̬̑͗̈́̐́̆͗͘ͅ is not a good wingman, by the way. regardless, the three two friends were ready and raring to take on anything the world held for them.

wait... what was that...? why couldn't you... remember... Oh! Rope MF! How's my bestie doing?

Anyway, the 3(?̵͖̮͉͇͂̈͘) once were tasked with finding a way to stop Yggdrasil, Crown of Natura for good, the tree was growing in power by the day. so they headed over to the place, wadhat insisting they may be able to just talk it out. They were met with Magolor 2 standing guard, who proceeded to accidently explain Yggdrasil, Crown of Natura's entire motivation of being the last remaining plantlife. oh. oops. well at least they don't know that Sussy knows more info about this- ah shit there they go. So they went to visit Sussy. Sussy had wallowed in loneliness for centuries by this point, and had made no progress in rebuilding Haltmann Co. She explained that before they had arrived, the land was lush with greenery, and that they were the reason for Yggdrasil, Crown of Natura's rise. before they left, she asked them a favor, and thankfully, she never booted back up.

Armed with this knowledge, the crew went to local royal scientist duo The Ranza and Mark. in the middle of their discussion, Rope MF disappeared. The Ranza and Mark noticed, and noticed that Waddle Hat weirdly didn't remember Rope MF at all, when asking Sapphilis about this behaviour, she explained that sometimes Rope MF just disappears in thin air, and when he's not there, not Waddle Hat or anyone else can recall of his existance until hes back again. The Ranza ran some tests with the dimensional mirror, and sure enough confirmed, Rope MF was hopping between universes, seemingly at random, between this universe, and what seemed to be his home world, with things drastically different. as they spoke, Rope MF reappeared and asked if they wanted rope info. they did not. Waddle Hat, in fact, was devistated. Her friend had been escaping her memory without her even realizing? What kind of bestie does that make her?? What is Rope MF never comes back and she can never remember her best friend ever again??? what was that thing in her hand...? oh. Rope MF gave her a rope to help her calm down. ...she hugged Rope MF with tears in her eyes, begging him to not leave, she doesnt wanna risk losing him forever. ...wait. what was she crying about again....?

After a look of pity from everyone else in the room, Mark explained there was more to all of this than the group had thought. In Rope MFs excessive dimension hopping, he had not only weakened the structural integrity of this dimention, but also caught the attention of a certain figure. Mropho. the name sent chills down Sapphilis's spine. he explained that they held life and death in their hands, they caused his descent, and turned him into... a ghost. turns out, he didnt get out of Kirder's attack unharmed, and his yellow and red eyes were like a cattle brand of the figures existence. all of a sudden, a horrific roar had echoed through the sky. Yggdrasil, Crown of Natura was launching a full on siege of the castle! they all ran outside to see the giant monster tree wrecking havoc on the palace effortlessly, nothing was able to take Yggdrasil, Crown of Natura down, Kirder had fallen. Mark yelled to the 3, exclaiming that if they trust him, jump into Yggdrasil, Crown of Natura's mouth, that's how they will manage to get to Mropho. after a moment of hesitation, the 3 held hand and jumped in.

The new space, somewhere between life and death, was black and twisting, like a wretched oil, with bright singular flames flickering and licking at existence around them, aloft in the air. A tall figure sat on a throne, and introduced themselves as Mropho, though, they prefer the name Mr. Opho. they revealed everything, they were the one to exterminate plantlife, to let Yggdrasil, Crown of Natura rise in power, to leave Mark a ghost, Magolor 2 fooled, The Ranza widowed, Sussy alone, and Sapphilis trapped, for figuring out their existance. He speaks.

"you know, life is not a tree. life is a fire. one that can burn bright and consume, or one that can burn out with naught but a whimper. but that is all. a fire can either be alive or dead. yet you…" he gestures to rope mf "you are different. every single flame in this space represents the life of someone, in your joke of a universe. as example." they bring forth a fire that shows Yggdrasil, Crown of Natura within its embers. and crush it in his hand. "gone. with but a motion of my hand. your flame is within here as well, but it doesnt dissipate. it simply disappears and reappears later. as the being controlling these flames, you can imagine how much that would infuriate me. but then i thought. if i, a being so close to godliness that i control the concept of life itself, cannot get my hands on you, then you must be even stronger. the only TRULY free being in existence. what changes have you made? what have you done with your power? have you kept me in charge from sloth? intrigue? listen to me. you are a powerful, POWERFUL being. and you sit next to a false god and a simple npc girl? when you can have me at your every beck and call? perhaps control over more than just life and death? time and space itself??" rope mf doesnt answer. mr opho glares at them all. "well then. i suggest you leave, your highness. before i do this." large fiery butterfly wings sprout from his back and flap forward, extinguishing every fire in the room, but 3. wadhat, sapphilis, and rope mf stand alone in their fight. alone as they ever did. opho speaks again. "hm. you defy me. let's make this fight one that the souls will be cheering on for an epoch." he summons a flaming sword and dashes at them.

as they fight against the god, Rope MF defends Waddle Hat from every blow, and she does the same. Sapphilis sees this pieces together something, and pulls Wadhat aside. Rope MF only comes to this universe for Waddle Hat, his best friend. If Rope MF isn't here, Mr. Opho can't use him to gain even more power. but for Rope MF not to be here... Sapphilis and Waddle Hat give a loving, determined, tear filled nod to each other, and call Rope MF over, telling him to take Waddle Hat back to his home. with help from Sapphilis, the two managed to pass through a portal to Rope MFs world. Mr. Opho furiously chases after them, reaching for the supposed god he both obsessed over and despised. but the realm had taken too much damage, cutting the connection and shattering mr opho across the multiverse.

Sapphilis sat alone, in her true form, not burdened with the colors of that beast, and with all her powers returned, if not weakened. she wondered and she wandered. what was she to do...? should she attempt to rebuild the world and rule over it better than he did? no. she learned from Sussy that was but a path to misery. she remembered she had her own dimensional properties before Mropho imprisoned her way back when... so she trained.

Days became weeks became months became years as Sapphilis honed her abilities.

Eventually, the universe ran empty.

.

..

...

TEE HEE I LOVE MAKING SERIOUS LORE FOR JOKE OCS!!!!!!!

sry for the later release, i meant to post this on my birthday (jan 11) but i was busy with, yknow, my birthday (jan 11), but 38 minutes late aint bad right?

[julymarte]

Collection of my entries for the figure studio contest fghjkuil this is actually so fun

[daughter-of-inkart]

𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔤𝔬𝔡𝔡𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔢𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔳𝔯𝔯𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔨𝔦, 𝔬𝔫 𝔴𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔢 𝔱𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔟𝔲𝔦𝔩𝔱 ✦

[literallys-illiteracy]

Project Moon Reading list

this is mt attempt at a comprehensive list of the references in Project Moon Games.

if you have any that arent listed, feel free to share them.

Lobotomy Corporation:

SCP-049 (Plague Doctor) (Speculated)

Portrait of Dorian Grey (Portrait of Another World; Mirror Of Adjustment) (Speculated)

Bible (One Sin and Hundreds of Good Deeds, Plague Doctor, Skin Prophecy, Flesh Idol, Burrowing Heaven, Express Train to Hell, Whitenight, Carmen)

Midsummer Nights Dream (Fariy Festival)

[Radio Station] UVB-76//The Buzzer (1.76Mhz)(Speculated)

Necronomicon//General Lovecraft (Skin Prophecy)

Colour Out of Space (Fragment of the Universe) (speculated; Thematically almost certainly lovecraft inspired)

The Little Match Girl (Scorched Girl)

Beauty and the Beast (Beauty and the Beast)

The Red Shoes (Red Shoes)

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (Scarecrow searching for wisdom; Warm Hearted Woodsman)

Colour Out of Space (Child of the Galaxy) (speculative)

The Snow Queen (The Snow Queen)

Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer (Rudolta of the Sleigh)

[Opera] Der Freischutz (Der Freischutz)

Snow White and the seven dwarves (Snow White's Apple)

Alarune (Alriune) (speculative)

The Little Prince (Little Prince)

Little Red Riding Hood (Little Red Riding Hooded Mercenary; Big and Will be Bad Wolf)

Three Little Pigs (Big and Will be Bad Wolf)

The Six Swans (Dream of a Black Swan) (Speculative)

[Music] Bethoven's Moonlight Sonata (Il Pianta De La Luna, Silent Orchestra)

[Film] Spirited Away (Mountain of Smiling Bodies) (Design) (Speculative)

Wonderlab specific:

Alice's adventures in wonderland (Red Queen, Hookah Butterfly)

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (Scaredy Cat and the road home)

The little mermaid (Piscence mermaid)

Midsummer nights dream (Titania)

[Conjecture/Heavy Speculation] Snow Queen or Snow White and the Seven Dwarves (Nobody Is)

Rapunzel (Tangle)

Lady in the Lake (White Lake)

Mythology and Folklore:

[Buddhist] Preta (Clouded Monk)

[Celtic] Faerie (Fairy Festival)

[German] Der Freischutz "The Freeshooter" (Der Freischutz)

[German] Doppelganger "Double Walker" (Nothing There) (thematic)

[German] Nachtkrapp "Night raven" (Big Bird) (Speculative; Personally unconvinced)

[Greek] Stymphalian birds (Punishing Bird) (Speculative)

[Greek] Pygmalion//Galatea (Pygmalion)

[Japanese] Baku (Void Dream)

[Japanese] Jubokko "Tree Child" (Grave of Cherry blossoms)

[Jewish] Kabbalah (Tree of life, Malkuth, Yesod, Netzach, Hod, Tifret, Gevurah, Hesed, Chokma, Binah, Keter, Ayin)

[Jewish] Succubus//Incubus (Porccubus)

[Korean] Urban Legend regarding "Grape Welch Soda" (An Opened Can of Welcheers)

[Norse] Yggdrasil (Parasite Tree) (Speculative: Giant Tree Sap)

[Roman] Justicia // Lady Justice (Judgement Bird)

[Roman] Laetitia (Laetitia)

[Russian]  Zhar-ptitsa "The Firebird" (The Firebird)

--------------

Library of Ruina:

Library of Babel

Do Androids dream of electric sheep? (Thematic, Achievement name)

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz (The Adult Who Tells Lies, Scaredy cat and the road home)

The Marvelous Land of Oz (Ozma)

Town Musicians of Bremen (The Musicians of Bremen)

The Jaunt (WARP trains)

Nosferatu (Nosferatu)

Macbeth ("And then is Heard no more")

[Film] The hour of the wolf (Tanya)

[tarot] The fool (Jester of Nihil)

[poetry] Sky, Wind, Stars, and Poem (SPB&TP mili song) (thematic)

[poetry] Orlando furioso /& Orlando Innamoratto. (Roland and related cast (Argalia, angelica, etc.))

---------------

Limbus Company

The Divine Comedy (Dante & surrounding cast)

The Wings (Yi Sang & co.)

Faust (Faust)

Don Quixote (Don Quixote)

Hell Screen (Ryoshu)

The Stranger//L'etranger//The Outsider (Meursault)

Dream of the red chamber (Hong Lu)

Wuthering Heights (Heathcliff & Co.)

Moby Dick//The Whale (ishmael & Co.)

Crime and Punishment (Rodion & Sonya)

Demian (Sinclair & Co.)

The Odyssey (Outis, Cyclops)

The Metamorphosis (Gregor)

Limbus Company - Minor References:

Peter pan (Smee)

Sherlock Holmes: (Timekilling Time Stage Names)

Scandal in time (Scandal in Bohemia)

A Case of the Gallows (A Case of Identity) (speculative)

The Adventure of three detectives (The Adventure of Three Students)

The White Scarved League (The Red Headed League)

The Clock Tower of Fear (Valley of Fear)

The Final Problem (The Final Problem)

Midsummer night dream (Midwinter Nightmare EGO gift)

The Time Machine (Hubert from TKT) (Speculative)

The Stars (Alfonso and Stephanette)

The Old Man and The Sea (Indigo elder) (Speculative)

Murder on the Orient Express (Murder on the WARP express)

Vampire the Masqurade (Casseti) (Speculative)

The Masque of the Red Death (Casseti) (Speculative)

The one who rules (Stage name "the one who lords") (speculative)

Real People:

League of nine:

Kim Kirim (김기림) (Rim)

Yi Hyoseok (이효석) (Aseah)

Lee Jong-myeong (이종명) (Yurang)

Kim Yu-yeong (김유영) (???/ Unnamed Member)

Chi-Jin Yoo (유치진). Pen name: Dongrang (동랑) (Dongrang)

Cho Yong-man (조용만) (Aneung)

Lee Tae-jun (이태준) (Sang-heo)

Jeong Ji-yong (정지용) (Young-ji)

Lee Mu-young (이무영) (Gap-ryong)

Park Taewon (박태원) (Gubo)

Kim Hae-Gyeong (김해경). Pen name Yi Sang (이상) (Yi Sang)

Park Pal-yang (박팔양) (???/ Unnamed member)

Gim Yujeong (김유정) (Dongbaek)

Kim Hwan-tae (김환태) (Nul-in)

other(s):

Agatha Christi (Grade 1 Fixer Agatha)

Kim Sakkat (Bamboo Hatted Kim)

Alphonse Daudet (Alfonso)

Vergil (Vergillius)

EGO and Abnormalities:

Midsummers Night Dream (Midwinter Nightmare) (EGO gift)

Carmilla (400 roses Anormality) (Carmilla EGO gift)

Metropolis (Resident of Metropolaris) (Speculative)

Snow White and the seven dwarves (Ebony Queen's Apple)

Pride and Predgudice (Spider of Marrige)

Poem of a dying butterfly (no.10 Crows Eye View) (A Dying Butterfly

Rudolph the red nosed Reindeer (Sandolph)

[Religion, Abrahamic religions] (Skin Prophet) (Heavenly Executioners throne) (Sign of Roses) (Heavenly Commanders Throne) (Broken Wings) (ichthys (Headless ichthys))

[Religion, Buddhist] (Ya Śūnyatā Tad Rūpam EGO) (My Form Empties)

[Folklore, Celtic] Faeries (Fairy Long-Legs, Fairy Gentleman, Faelantern)

[Folklore, German] Der Freishutze (Der Freishutze) (Der Fluchshutze)

[Folklore, Korean] The Green Frog (Blubbering Toad)

[Folklore, Korean] Dol hareubang (Wishing Cairn) (Pagoda Veneration)

[wukyma]

Who is your favorite greek god?

HA! You've set this trap for yourself dear Gobi because I'm something of a nerd myself, and in this essay I will–

Jk, here are my thoughts on each of my favorite gods and goddesses (because I'm an indecisive lil guy who can't choose) (with pictures)

First of all I should mention that my ideas about gods are rooted in children's stories where everything is relatively tame and stripped of spicy details lol... It was only in my early teens that I got disappointed XD,,, so, short answer to your question: Poseidon. Long answer: ehhh it's complicated. Imagine this – a kid from a thoroughly Christian country discovers there are OTHER gods (unlimited access to books and no supervision ftw) and immediately absorbs all the info there is. I was obsessed with them ALL.

As Greeks used to do, 1. Hestia gets the first mention! I really like her role as goddess of the hearth and home. Also the comedy of her taking a glance at Poseidon and Apollo and going "no thanks" is SO valid

2. Zeus. Yes, him. No joke. For child-me he was a rather cool dude because of the whole "supreme king, defender of law and order, god of skies (and my daddy issues cough cough)" and so on and so forth was absolutely EPIC. Later, though? I almost disowned him HAHSHJ Bro's family tree is bigger than Yggdrasil ffs (tiny aura bonus for lightning bolts)

3. Hera. I didn't really like her before but now – same, queen, same. Still amazed by the idea that she kept her faithfulness no matter what; the messiest marriage ever tbh. The only situation where I have to sigh in disappointment is the Hephaestus Incident™

4. Artemis! Girl flipped everyone off and absolutely thrives hunting with a bunch of immortal maidens. What an icon.

5. Hermes too, because he's a multitasker. It's easier to say what domain he doesn't have than vice versa... Lil poor me has to travel a lot so when I say "god help me" after mounting a bus (AGAIN) that's who I have in mind XD

6. Last but not the least, Poseidon. HEAR ME OUT ✋ the Ls he took in myths are massive, yes, but this obsession goes as far as I remember. I was that cringe little gremlin who slapped horse stickers/doodles on everything and could only be pulled out of the sea by force (how awful that sounded, I'm sorry) Imagine what my mind did when I heard there's a god of BOTH these things (and his bitter attitude towards almost everything is relatable,,)

Thus, the actual myths overlapped with what I already knew from the toned down retellings, and here is the result ✨

(I wholeheartedly hope no one fell asleep ahajajdksk... Maybe I should draw other gods too)

[blradley]

A powerpoint introduction to Liesmyth!

(I swear the next one will actually be in Comic Sans... shout out to @incandescent-creativity for popularizing this medium!)

Anyway...

Do you wanna read a dark, Norse-inspired Adult Fantasy?

Do you wanna read about queer gods causing mayhem?

(literally every single character is queer lmaooooo)

Do you wanna support a queer, multiply disabled author?

Look no further than Liesmyth! We're out on subs at the moment - so, pretty-please reblog this powerpoint if you like the concept! Let's prove to all those prospective publishers that there's an audience for my book!

Image IDs:

All eleven images are power point slides.

Image 1: Title card reading 'Liesmyth: or, how Sigyn ruined everything, by B. L. Radley'. The words are displayed over a person in (...vaguely) Viking-era garb, against a green background. Only a slice of their torso is visible.

Image 2: A picture of an ash tree against a green, cool, mountainous scene. In a yellow text box, words read: Welcome to a world inspired by Norse mythology, where witches can climb through the cosmos using the boughs of an ancient ash tree, and any magic is possible, so long as it is cast with a suitable sacrifice. Yes, it’s basically a Viking Isekai. Shoot me. Then, a quote in italics: I know an ash tree named Yggdrasil, Nine realms cradled in its loamy arms… Prophecy of the Voluspa, verse 19

Image 3: Meet the characters! An image shows a white woman in Viking-era dress, leaning against a fence, looking pensieve. She is introduced as Sigyn Narisdottir. Her quote is: “It’s a God-eat-God world out there…” Below this, there is a description of Sigyn, reading: Just a nice, normal Christian woman from a nice, normal Christian village. (Totally not a gay witch, haha no, why would you suggest such a thing.) After her father is killed by his own God, Þórr, Sigyn has only one chance to free his trapped ghost from eternal torment. She must confront Þórr and slay him in combat. But how can a mortal defeat a God? Traits are bullet pointed at the bottom of the page. Hers are: Ruthless, ambitious, cunning, and desperate.

Image 4: The next character description is of Loki. His quote is “Monsters lost their menace when they huddled crying in the corner. And when you might use them for your own ends.” His image shows a clean-shaven half-naked man sat against a scandinavian-esque backdrop of rugged rocks and dried grass. He is white, with curly red hair, and is looking curiously off to one side. His description reads: The savior of the Gods, or their bane? A framed innocent, or a prophesized murderer? A victim, or a monster? Loki is a man of juxtaposed polarities, not least of which being that he isn’t a man at all. At least, not when it doesn’t suit him. Sigyn knows he’s dangerous. But in the viper nest of Ásgarð’s royal court, he might be her only ally… or her downfall. His traits are: Sly, wily, and 'not to be trusted'.

Image 5: The two characters introduced on this slide are Freyja and Thor. Freyja's image is of an Arab woman staring directly at the camera, expression serene, curly hair falling around her face. Her quote is: “Goddess of beauty. Goddess of desire. All who saw Freyja fell a little in love—but though silken longing stirred in my belly, I wrung it dead, reminding myself that Freyja was a goddess of bloodshed, too.” Her description reads: Queen of the Vanir, Freyja is an ancient and powerful goddess who takes Sigyn as her indentured servant. Her traits are: Proud, cold, and vicious. On the opposite side of the page, Thor's image shows a white, bearded man in an iron helmet glaring into the camera, viking sigils scrawled across his face in charcoal. He is shadowy and menacing. His quote is: “I saw a rainbow flash over a church. I saw a broken sky. I saw the end of everything.” His description is: Eldest prince of the Æsir. Murderer of Sigyn’s father, and countless more beside. The living embodiment of berserker rage, he is the strongest god around – and next to inherit Ásgarð’s throne. Unless Sigyn can stop him. His traits are: Violent, mighty, and 'a storm made flesh'

Image 6: introduces Angrboda and Baldr. Angrboda's image shows a white woman with blonde braids, wearing chain mail and warpaint (black streaks over her face), with a huge axe over one shoulder. Her quote is: “ ‘Sigyn, meet Angrboða: witch of the Ironwoods, god of a lost nation, relic of an elder age, master of magics that not even my darling brother dares dabble in, cosmopolitan worldwalker, mother and father of my children, and—if I might say so—a practitioner of truly superlative strap-game.’ ” Baldr's image is of Assad Zaman, looking wistfully, beautifully, into the camera. His quote is: “Out strode the most beautiful man in all the Nine Worlds. His gentle smile, his topaz eyes, his black curls, the fawn velvet of his cheeks… Oh, warmth radiated from him. I looked at him and felt, for the first time in oh-so-very-long, safe.”

Image 7: introduces Saga and Menglod. Saga's image shows a Black woman in darkness, with facial tattoos and a nose ring. She raises her eyes to the camera, pulling back a dark hood, her expression difficult to read. Her quote is: “In another version of this tale, I stayed with Sága. We travelled to Ljósálfheim every winter—one for every six of Vanaheim’s years—and raised foundlings as our own (for ever were the elvish freer with their loves than those of my world). But in this tale, we reached Freyja’s palace, and I had a dream.” Her description is: Prophet, witch, worldwalker. The woman Sigyn left behind. Menglod's image shows a Black woman smiling slightly, slyly, as she looks back over her shoulder, her natural hair framing her face. Her quote is: “If I tended the hearth in Freyja’s chamber, I left ash on her floors. If I swept the ash, I left streaks invisible to any eyes but Menglǫð’s. If I breathed, I did so far too loudly and regularly, and if I were a considerate soul, I would stop.” Her description is: Freyja’s attendant, and Sigyn’s main rival for her favor.

Image 8: So, like, wtf happens? Set against a background of dramatic red-on-black fire is a description of the book's plot, as follows: Crumbling kingdoms. Hungering Gods. One woman who will end the worlds. Loki, Norse god of fire and mischief, will be tortured until the end of time. And he shall deserve every minute. At least, that’s how the story goes. Behind every great man is a great woman, and behind every genderfluid trickster-god is a spouse who darns his socks, plots his victories and keeps his secrets, as well as her own. After a thousand years of agony, Loki looks to the woman who kneels by his side – his jailer, his torturer, his wife – and asks for a different story. Hers.

Image 9: a continuation of the plot from the previous slide, this time with a cool blue lake as the background, with a viking-style ship floating atop its surface. The image feels less calming, more unnerving in its stillness and the lack of human life. The description reads as follows: Down with the gods. So swore Sigyn, a young mortal woman, after watching her father die at godly hands. One millennium later, she has joined the same pantheon she once despised. Now, as Ragnarǫk approaches – the end of all Nine Worlds – Sigyn narrates the tale of the Norse Gods’ fall, and her own.

Image 10: Themes. A picture of two crossed axes accompanies a list of themes, which are: 1) Revenge. What is a life worth? And what would you give up, to avenge the life of someone you love? 2) Corruption. Can you ever fix a broken system from the inside? Or will it, inevitably, consume you? and 3) Divinity. What does it mean, to become a god? What might you lose along the way?

Image 11: A picture of Loki as a woman, with red hair, dressed in a Viking-style dress and sat on the edge of a Scandinavian dock, accompanies text that reads: This book is for you if you like... Queer-led, queer-written fantasy, with main wlw and nonbinary characters! Court drama and political intrigue, mixed with a sizzling dash of mythology! A prophecy that cannot be averted; a tragedy that cannot be outrun…

[talesofadragon]

𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬

Synopsis: Centuries spent at the House of Odin have transformed the eclectic balls into familial gatherings and council meetings into morning tea rituals. The gilded walls of the castle have become home, and its royals, family. Yet, when your wisdom crosses paths with folly, affection is born unexpectedly, senselessly—a trait you’ve never been known to entertain, but one that Thor Odinson wears proudly.

Pairing: Thor Odinson x Asgardian!Reader

Warnings: Allusions to sex. Jealousy. Unrequited Love. Love Triangles. LOKI. (we love him, though.)

Genre: Hurt/Comfort | Fluff | Mild Angst

Word Count: 6K (I have no regrets)

Based on this Request from my writing celebration.

All Masterlists | Sab's Wring Fest

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐍’𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐊 into the queen’s revered gardens, let alone assault her precious snowdrops. But rationale had long been buried deeper than Yggdrasil’s roots, allowing impulsivity to reign over you.

The white petals screeched from the force of your tug, a harsh touch you’d never known yourself capable of administering. But your assault proved relentless, flower after flower limply falling to your side. Ironically, their innocent petals congregated on the fabric of your dress, painting a tinge of beauty over your despondency.

Even in their misery, they refused to be anything but enduring. Pitiful.

“Oh, how delightfully entertaining will it be to gauge Mother’s love for you once she sees what calamity has befallen her garden by your hands.”

“Go away,” you commanded bitterly, back turned to the unwanted presence.

The god behind you neglected to comment on your tone. You heard him shuffle, his feet carefully avoiding stepping on another virtuous plant. He plopped down next to you, elegantly brushing his hands atop the neglected flower stems by your side, reviving them.

“It would be a shame to forgo free entertainment,” Loki smirked, twirling the rejuvenated snowdrop in his fingers.

You craned your head to the right, eyes burning with fire even his Jotun genes couldn’t withstand. “Pity, so many courtesans have slipped from your fingers you now have to settle for my misery for pleasure.”

Loki laughed, his shoulders shaking. His gaze retained his familiar mirth as he answered, “Would your misery be associated with a certain courtesan and an Asgardian prince... fonduing, perhaps?”

“Fonduing?” Your face twisted in disgust. “What in the Nine does that word mean?”

“I heard the spangled American Captain utter it once," Loki recalled. "It’s a euphemism for two people partaking in the biological act of reproduction.”

“What?” you scoffed in disbelief. “It doesn’t make sense.”

Loki’s wry smirk reappeared. “Mortals rarely do,” he confessed.

Your face fell at the reminder of the race you were persistently attempting to forget. Focused on your previous discourse, you had ignored the snowdrops delicately sitting in the palm of your hands. Without a second thought, you resumed your previous ministrations, gracelessly tearing apart petals from the stem.

“You do not happen, by any chance, to be superseding this flower for Thor’s meek mortal friend. Do you?” Loki asked.

“No,” you were quick to reply. “She may be as delicate as a flower, but she’s as beautiful as a Ratatoskr. What do brown eyes remind one of besides tree trunks and repugnant mud?”

“The warmth of an autumn day as the sun embraces the woodlands and shelters its inhabitants from the seasonal tumult to come,” Loki poetically recited, hands drawing figures in the air and a gleam of mischief glowing in his irises.

“Sounds tedious,” you lamented.

It earned you a scoff from Loki, though not for a lack of frivolity. “Midgardians possess this abhorrent concoction called coffee,” he informed, gaining your attention. “It’s a muddy brew that staggeringly increases one’s anxiety threshold.”

“Why would someone create such a senseless horror?”

“Perhaps to use it as a metaphor for a mortal’s brown eyes.”

You scrunched up your nose at the image of the mortal in question. “Fitting. She has such a petite stature. As feeble and brittle as her thirty-year lifespan.”

“I regret to inform you that mortals can live up to a century.”

“Irrelevant. That is still a trifle of our lifespan. And do not get me started on her vexatious disposition. Has this mortal woman been raised in a cave of trolls?”

“Well, this would certainly explain her infatuation with Thor.”

“You are not helping!”

You gathered what remained of the flowers, pelting Loki with the stem and petals. He didn’t deflect your assault, accepting your sour behavior. What you hadn’t accounted for was his retaliation. He pushed your shoulder, slightly rougher than usual, forcing you to land on a bed of flowers.

You groaned, feeling the flora entangling in your hair and their pollen dusting your dress. Loki’s dulcet amusement echoed above your head. A sharp gasp escaped him when you tugged at his emerald green robes and shoved him down. Hard.

“I did not inflict a grain of harm on you,” Loki groaned, swatting the fallen petals, which landed in his hair. “This hurts, Y/N.”

“Your pride or your head? The latter could benefit from some sense knocking into it,” you rebuked.

Loki gazed at you unimpressed. “Now is not an agreeable time to spread your wisdom, Little Goddess. You’ve clearly demonstrated your dwindling abilities when you groaned and moaned about the earthling.”

“I did no such thing! I, astutely might I add, pointed out her subpar qualities that do not mirror what Asgard is looking for in a queen—”

“Thor clearly disagrees.”

“Do not interrupt me, you venomous snake! Thor has always been a dunderhead, overthinking with his brawn and underthinking with his brains.”

“And yet, you were stupid enough to fall in love with him, Goddess of Wisdom.”

“Watch your mouth!” you spat, eyes roving the expanse of the garden to ensure no meddling ears were meandering around. “I care for your brother. But do not confuse care with admiration.”

“Devotion, Y/N. Has the human’s visit caused even your accrued lexicon to recede,” Loki taunted. Had it not been for your skirts in the way and your position on the ground, you would’ve kicked him so hard in certain nether regions that he would’ve sung to Valhalla.

“I stand by what I said.”

“Apologies, Little Goddess. Allow me, as the God of Lies, to refute your statement. Both metaphorically and in the literal sense.”

That filthy little python. You scoffed, perhaps a little more at yourself than him. He elicited the responses he desired, painting a mockery out of you and your feelings. You knew you couldn’t debate the matter with him more than you already had. As the God of Lies and your, unfortunately, best friend, he’d always have the upper hand in this matter.

So, you stood up and dusted your skirts. If you weren't winning, then participating in this debate was of no use. 

“Where are you going?” Loki inquired, an underlying tone of merriment hiding beneath his words.

Your eyes squinted, regarding him with indignation. “You have effectively sullied my mood even further. Your mother’s beautiful flowers do not deserve more ill will at my hands. Therefore, I’m taking my leave.”

If Loki had said anything after your response, your mind had elected to ignore it. Huffing aloud, you marched toward the castle, uncaring for the traces of mud and the wealth of fallen petals that trailed behind. On a regular day, you would’ve been more mindful, casting a simple cleaning spell to polish your appearance and ensure the poor attendants of the Odin Household would not have to partake in more work than necessary. But your anger and heartbreak had been immeasurable enough to deny you any act besides sulking over the mortal woman Thor had ignorantly brought along to Asgard.

The Norns, much like Loki, must’ve been taking pleasure in your predicament. You had rounded the corner, one gilded hallway separating you from the castle’s entrance, when the silhouette of the Crown Prince appeared. 

Unlike the ladies of the court, your admiration for Thor did not stem from his ethereal beauty. It bloomed like Freyja’s primroses, a sturdy seedling that, with time, opened its foliage to a world of wonder and ardor. He was a cosmic presence—a child of the sun, with light and fire dancing around his immaculate frame in wisps of enchantment, leaving every woman breathless. Including you.

“Lady Y/N!” Thor’s voice reverberated in the long hallway, laced with excitement. "I hadn't anticipated your presence today. No wonder the day exudes such radiance."

His comment made heat rise to your cheeks. It was almost as if he had shared his warmth with you, sending it trekking along his words to your heart. You smiled at him, demure and saccharine. But your lips downturned once another presence, one less noticeable or agreeable, appeared behind him.

You cleared your throat, attempting to restrain your unease as you greeted, “Thor, Mistress Foster.”

Norns burn you if you call her by the same title you bear. The earthling, as Loki so eloquently worded it, could not match you.

Without a greeting nor a poised lexicon, the Midgardian inquired, “Why are your clothes dirty?” 

Her question intrigued Thor enough for his eyes to rove your body. The warmth that had settled in your veins morphed into the embers of Helheim. You felt small and brittle under the scrutiny of his penetrating gaze.

“I beg your pardon?” you fired back promptly, indignation concealing the shame you felt at your soiled image.

Your words caused the mortal to pale, head swiveling to Thor’s side in anxiousness and trepidation. “I apologize, my lady,” she rectified her earlier statement. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

Well, you certainly were, you internally chastised.

Thor took another look at your attire, meticulously examining the fabric. You endeavored to compose yourself, resisting the urge to shift your weight from one foot to another. His hand reached for your arm, his thumb sweeping across your elbow. “Are you well, Lady Y/N? You look… disheveled.”

You immediately retracted your arm, fearing his senses might pick up on your galloping heart. “I am quite alright. I was with Loki in the gardens,” you supplied.

“Loki?” The mortal regarded you with an air of cynicism. Your blood boiled at her brashness. “What were you and Loki doing in the gardens?”

“Have you no tact, you imprudent minger? Although your kind lacks sensibility and decorum, you ought to address those of elevated stature with respect while in their dominion! Neither Prince Loki nor I are your comrades to tolerate such crass mannerisms.”

“I’m… my sincerest apologies, I didn’t think—”

“Thinking is not as sparse on Asgard as it is on Earth. If you find yourself incapable of harnessing a modicum of wisdom when addressing me, then you are in the presence of the wrong Goddess.”

"Y/N," Thor interjected, his omission of your title not slipping past your notice. Nor did you miss the hand that reached out for the mortal girl.

His actions only served to fan the flames of your jealousy and hurt. Almost a millennium of knowing that male, and he had chosen a measly mortal's side over yours.

“Do not patronize me!” you ordered, jamming a finger in his broad, muscular chest. “I am not the right audience for your feigned, princely performance.”

Thor squeezed the mortal’s hand in reassurance, tugging her further to his side—as if to shield her from you. He craned his face lower to meet your gaze. Endearing as you'd always found it, it made you uneasy at this moment.

"You seem overly emotional today,” he inquired, voice low and delicate, juxtaposing his chosen words. “Has Loki said something to upset you?"

You cracked. How dare he?

“Loki may perhaps be the only male in all of Asgard who possesses an ounce of empathy and understanding when it comes to my feelings and disposition,” you snapped back, ignoring how your words seemed to slap Thor in the face. “He has been my best friend for close to a millennium and is one of the princes of this realm. So if I, as a lady of the court, find that your little mortal is besmirching his name, the least I could do is call her out on it!”

Your outburst held more weight than you had anticipated, managing to leave Thor speechless. He regarded you with an air of perplexion, his mouth open—seemingly unsure of what response was fair in this situation. 

You didn’t want to waste any further time in his or the mortal’s company. You grunted, walking away. The sound of your footfall ringing louder than deemed honorable for a lady.

“Y/N, wait!” Thor called out after you, his hand shooting up to grab your arm. Though he was massively built, with the strength and mass of Asgard lying on his shoulders, his shy grasp fluttered against your skin. Featherlike, it tickled your nerves, sending a chorus of tenderness through your pulse.

You turned around, a mask of stoicism hiding your feelings. “Yes?”

“I appreciate your inclination to defend my brother, but, I, and Jane, were merely concerned over your well-being—”

“Accusing Loki of maltreatment!” you reminded Thor, swiftly retracting your arm from his grasp.

He sighed, placing both hands on his hips. You loathed how small he made you feel before the mortal. “You are exaggerating.”

“And you are heedless! Whatever Loki and I were doing in the gardens is none of your or the mortal’s concern! What’s it to you both? Maybe we decided to fondue. We do not get in your business, so do not meddle in ours!”

No sooner had the words left your mouth than your legs commanded you to retreat to another room. You didn’t understand why you had said that. Your wisdom melted into a puddle whenever Thor and his little pet were involved. 

When had you become so insensitive?

Mistress Foster left. Her visit didn’t amass more than a fortnight's worth of frustrations before King Odin had deemed her visit long. If an immortal God such as Odin Allfather perceived these days as anything but transient, then Jane Foster was truly a nuisance in her own right. 

The knowledge of her absence, particularly on this day, overjoyed you. The Vernal Equinox served as a portent of hope for Asgard—embracing prominent figures from neighboring realms in celebration of Asgard’s princes and in anticipation of the future. 

In loose terms, it presented the Asgardian royalty with a wealth of eligible females to choose from as the next princess and queen of the realm. In broader terms, it was another opportunity to observe Loki and Thor merrily charm the ladies to appease Odin and Frigga—while satiating particular desires on the side.

You dismissed your ladies in waiting, taking a deep breath as you pulled open the door. Your feigned smile fell, and the familiar trepidation rose when you saw who stood by the door. 

“Fondue?” Loki snickered, mischief practically waltzing in his bejeweled eyes. “Darling Y/N, had I known you were inclined to roll in my sheets, I would’ve bedded you centuries sooner.”

You grabbed him by the fabric of his tailored robes, pulling him harshly toward your rooms. “I panicked!” you grumbled. It was barely heard over the deafening sound of his amusement. 

“Well, you certainly rectified your error by pulling me into your chambers.”

“Shut up!”

“Ah, my Little Goddess. How exquisitely appetizing do you look,” he joked, purposely raising his voice.

You jumped on him, a screech tearing through your vocal cords. Loki laughed louder, trying to grasp your hands as you assaulted him with your fists. You hadn’t expected him to bite your finger. 

“You bastard!” you seethed, cradling your hand. 

“What was that, Y/N? You want it faster?”

“Loki!!”

“Ah, tell me how good it feels,” he mused.

You were not impressed. “You are an idiot,” you retorted.

Your argument, if you could call it that, receded rather swiftly. You refused to look at Loki, rolling your eyes and settling them on your vanity. You weren’t frustrated, per se. Loki always had a knack for playing with your feelings like they were puppets on a string. Not in a malevolent way. The matter was, if your gaze caught him, you knew the little impish snake would expose the laughter he had succeeded in digging out of you.

Loki’s voice caught you before your thoughts meandered further. “You’re wearing the wrong colors.”

You looked down at yourself, your silver shoes peeking from the fabric of your long blue dress. It was light azure. Quaint and placid. An exterior representation of the feelings you were chasing. The fabric was tulle, whimsical and, airy like Spring’s birds merrily dancing across cloudless Asgardian sky. Its off-shoulder design, adorned with gleaming silver gems and bishop sleeves, accentuated your elegance and grace. A Goddess. A member of the House of Odin, even if you didn’t have a crown. 

“If you’re insinuating I ought to have worn your brother’s colors, then I regret to inform you, that you were mistaken.”

Loki shook his head as a mischievous shadow passed over his face. “You’d appear desperate. And you, Y/N, are anything but.”

“Then what colors were you referencing?” you asked, brows creasing in thought. “Surely not your own.”

“Mine, no. But the witless oaf doesn’t have to know that.”

You didn’t comprehend whatever it was he was insinuating. Wordlessly, Loki twirled his fingers, a thread of emerald green seidr tantalizing your sight. He flicked his wrist. The magical trail shot from his fingertips to your dress, deftly pirouetting along the light azure tulle. 

The colors changed from blue to green and silver to gold. The boldness of your outfit contrasted with the muted portrait you tried to paint earlier. You studied your dress, eyes roving the fabric before examining Loki’s attire. You almost scolded him for putting you in his colors when you did not intend for your farce to go further than it did. But then you noticed these colors, chosen by Loki, were darker than his. 

It was a subtle contrast, discerned when in closer proximity to the God of Mischief. The royal family could immediately catch the difference. The ladies, though, wouldn’t be able to. Neither would Thor.

“Is this a wise choice?” you asked, playing with the sleeves of your dress. 

Loki took your hand in his, kissing the back of it. “The answer lies with you, Little Goddess.”

Wise, maybe not. Fun? It certainly would be. You couldn’t remember the last time you went to these festivities without constantly having to clutch your heart at the thought of Thor.

“It’s a mutual agreement,” you answered diligently. “This keeps the ladies and Thor away.”

Loki tutted. “This keeps the witless oaf’s mind working. He has stashed his wits so far beneath the surface, the cobwebs have devoured them whole.”

“And you think this alliance between wisdom and mischief will decontaminate his head from thoughts of the impertinent mortal?”

“I believe my brother is a hopeless case. If it works, then by all means, enjoy the fruits of our labor. If it doesn’t, then enjoy the privilege of my company.”

“Your company?” you chortled, wrapping your arm around his elbow. “Lokes, I’ll be gracing you with mine.”

He mimicked your chortle, beginning to lead you out of the room. "I must admit, your presence has staggeringly illuminated my days in Asgard. Father is covertly hoping that I ask for your hand in marriage."

"And Frigga?" you asked, aware of Loki's deep affection for his mother and her opinion.

He covered your hand, which rested on his arm, with his free one, leaning closer to your ear. "She much prefers you with Thor." You blushed, a crimson hue spreading across your cheeks. Loki took delight in your sheepishness. "You could spare me the hassle of sifting through noble ladies by accepting a marriage proposal, Y/N. I immensely enjoy roleplay in the bedroom. And though I do not wish to lay eyes on certain biological regions of my brother, I can indulge you if that is what you fancy."

"I fancy your silence, you brute!" you chastised, stomping on his foot.

Loki barely flinched, but he placed some distance between you both. He opened the door, and before you could venture beyond your bedroom, he positioned himself in your line of sight. "You forgot something, darling." The nickname felt foreign, especially when unaccompanied by your first name. Before you could inquire about it, you felt a shimmer of magic raking through your hair.

"What did you do?"

Loki smiled fondly, passing his fingers through your loose hair. "Turned you from a goddess to a princess."

Your gaze locked with his as you lifted your fingers to your head. There was a weight there, not something unbearable but undeniably foreign. Your fingers traced the contours of what you assumed was a diadem.

"What was that for?"

Loki stepped closer to you, his taller frame engulfing yours, cocooning you with his body heat. His lips settled on your forehead, his fingers intertwining with yours. You blinked, mind racing to figure out the parameters of his new trick. “You’re precious, Y/N,” he confessed breathlessly, his voice almost vulnerable. “More valuable than the troves of Asgard and the magic of Yggdrasil. And by the Norns, whoever forsakes your treasured company deserves to be bereft of your radiance, ensnared by the unforgiving grasp of Helheim for their sacrilege, Little Queen.”

For the first time in your 800 years of life, you found yourself at a loss for words in response to Loki's. His words were carefully chosen, poignant, and endearing, befitting his poetic prowess. Yet, something about the declaration felt amiss; a subtle discordance that unsettled you. It was then, out of the corner of your eye, that you caught sight of Thor.

His cerulean eyes, usually bright with warmth, were now veiled in darkness, glinting with a silver sheen you had never seen before. Thor's demeanor betrayed a mix of emotions, his features clouded with anger and a hint of betrayal. Before you could utter a word, he turned and left, his bloody red ceremonial attire fading from view.

Loki's intentions became clearer then. He sought to deceive Thor. But why would such words incite his brother's ire? And why had Loki chosen to describe you as such?

This Vernal Equinox proved to be different. You couldn’t categorize it as either good or bad as you had yet to comprehend your perplexing emotions about the celebration. The familiar joviality and folly were missing given that Loki and Thor seemed to have reversed their roles. 

Content with you on his arm, Loki’s charade persisted well into the late hours of the evening. He kept you to his side, not that you minded, twirling, discoursing, and occasionally, joking about the whole ordeal. The nobles, courtiers, and ladies had all presumed you debuting, your green dress a declaration of your choice in contenders. If not for that, then the golden diadem on your head 

Frigga and Odin seemed to know better. The Allfather offered you and his youngest no more than a feeble smile, pleased to see you and Loki together, even though he knew this was all but a farce. The Allmother, while graceful as ever, did not attempt to mask her errant gaze, her bright eyes dimming as she looked at Thor. 

The older son, heir to the throne of Asgard, had forgone merriment in favor of appeasing the ladies. Given that Loki had monopolized your time, all of the wayward bachelorettes traveled toward Thor. No lady was cast aside, each receiving a handful of minutes with the prince. And though that should’ve hurt you, the ache in your heart could only be attributed to the misery Thor wore. 

You and Loki drifted toward Sif and the Warriors Three since Thor had abandoned his usual idle chatter and reckless drinking. Hours later, Fandral was on the verge of passing out, Hogun was inebriated yet still standing, while Volstagg recounted one of the ancient battles on Alfheim to Loki and Sif.

When it was an hour past midnight, you excused yourself from the festivities, claiming you were too tired to continue. 

In truth, sleep evaded you. Your mind inundated with thoughts. But you didn’t allow yourself to entertain one more question or idea, letting your feet guide you wherever they preferred. 

You reached one of the castle’s balconies, a small one on the right side of the ballroom. You could still hear the music from the festivities, although it was a gentle hum. Euphonious and dulcet, serving as the perfect ballad in the backdrop. The sky lit up, gleaming stars strewn across the darkness. You wondered if they were the Norns’ portents. If you could wish upon them and the world would hum in answer. 

The sound of retreating footsteps pulled your attention away from the sky. You knew that silhouette anywhere. 

“Thor?” the word tumbled from your lips before you could fully register what the night had brought. 

Thor’s shoulders tensed. He didn’t respond, almost as if contemplating whether to provide you with an answer or ignore your presence. He sighed, broad shoulders deflating, before he turned around. 

“I apologize, Lady Y/N. I was not aware the area was preoccupied.”

“You need not to apologize, Thor,” you stated, unsure where his usual boldness had gone. “The area is large enough to accommodate both of us.”

It almost looked as though Thor would decline your offer. His blue eyes wandered, from you to the horizon then back. He regarded you in an unfamiliar way, taking in your appearance. You didn’t want him to catch sight of your fluster, so you turned your back to him, getting lost in the sight of Asgard at night. 

When you thought Thor would leave, you heard him make his way to your side. 

“I wish to apologize to you, Y/N,” he whispered, uncertainly. Not because he did not mean it, no. You knew Thor well enough to tell when he was lying about something. Your friendship with Loki illuminating his brother’s traits further. Thor leaned on his side, the banister supporting his weight. His demeanor was brittle, a far cry from what you had known. Your breath was lost in your throat, unsure whether you should gasp or sob. A step forward and there would be no distance between the both of you. You never wanted to hug him more. “Had I known you and my brother were…” He paused, taking in a shaky breath. “...Courting. Had I known, neither I nor Jane would have adopted such an insensitive tone before.”

You shook your head, fingers tingling to reach out for him. “We’re…Loki and I we’re…” But you couldn’t complete your sentence. A part of you imploring to deny Thor’s claim. Another fearing Thor’s distance if you admitted the truth. 

“An odd combination,” Thor smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Mischief and Counsel. Wisdom and Lies.”

“They’re opposite sides of the same coin. Perhaps, that’s why they work better than expected,” you defended, unsure why. 

Thor nodded, the same meek smile unerased. He looked down at his feet, strands of his blond hair covering his face. It had grown taller from the last time he had cut it on Midgard. Now resting upon his shoulders. As if he needed more weight to bear. 

“I must admit that he might be the luckiest one between us both. And he does not even know it?”

Your hand shot up involuntarily, clutching at the golden jewels across the bodice of your dress. “How so?” you asked, your thumb circling the fabric in a futile attempt at soothing your heartache at Thor’s tone. 

One of Thor’s hands glided across the banister, landing where yours had laid. While his gaze held your face, your eyes couldn’t help but land on his larger hand. “Loki presumes I cannot tell his ire at the court ladies galivanting to my side. He has always been too forlorn to understand that numbers have mattered not to me.” His hand dared to reach for yours then, a featherlike caress that made your heart gallop faster than Sleipnir. “Those who choose me over Loki desire nothing more than the throne. I have nothing else to offer. No wit, no literary aptitude, or poetic charm. I am nothing but brutish and capricious. It takes a no great amount of ardor to love my brother. It takes a kingdom to love someone like me.”

You retracted your hand, the action so unexpected and harsh, Thor jumped back in surprise. He opened his mouth, perhaps to apologize, but he closed it when he saw the expression you wore. Silver misted your irises, decayed and morose, mirroring the disheartenment that haunted you. 

“How can you say that?” you questioned—shrieked, even. Tears cascaded down your cheeks, your hands clawing at your dress because of the pain you felt. “Who…who made you feel as such?”

“Y/N—”

“No, Thor! You cannot utter such insidious words in my presence! You are kind, tender, and caring. A summer’s breath, warm and ecstatic. In your fierceness, you wield passion, and in your tempest resides the strength to protect. You are worthy of many things, Thor Odinson. And love is atop that wealth. I would forgo the world’s realms and riches to bask in the light of your affection.”

The words that traversed the distance between were not measured nor were they second-guessed. You had not the time to question your affections, wondering if it was worth bringing them to light or not. But you needed Thor to understand that what he felt, the dejectedness and loneliness, were unwarranted. 

You need to touch him, embrace him—assure his heart that he was worthy, and if you couldn’t do it physically, then your words had to suffice. 

Thor stood there, his expression a mix of shock, confusion, and something akin to hope. He reached out tentatively, brushing away the tears from your cheek with his thumb. “Y/N…”

You allowed his thumb to trace the skin beneath your eyes before wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace, burying your face in his chest. Once, you thought to yourself. Even if this was a lie, I’ll gladly entertain it, just this once.

“Those ladies who crave your affections for the crown are not worthy of you. Even if you were the second son, even if the Norns had created you a mortal, you would still be worthy, Thor. You would still be loved.”

Thor’s hands traveled from your back. One moved up to cradle your head while the other rested on your lower back, cradling you closer to his chest. You could hear his heartbeats frantically drumming against his rib cage. Almost as if they were loud enough to create their own melody.  

You felt Thor plant a kiss atop of your head, close to where the diadem lay. He swayed with you in his arms, hold on you tightening and unwilling to let go. “You’re precious, Y/N,” he recited the words with complete reverence. Their familiarity registered, but you didn’t have time to question him before he continued, “More valuable than the troves of Asgard and the magic of Yggdrasil. And by the Norns, whoever forsakes your treasured company deserves to be bereft of your radiance, ensnared by the unforgiving grasp of Helheim for their sacrilege, Little Queen.”

A sharp gasp escaped your lips. “What did you just say?” you questioned, still nestled in his protective embrace.

“Loki did not compose this prose,” Thor confessed, his eyes dark with hesitation. “I wrote it. Two hundred years ago. For you.”

“What?” you breathed, the word splintering with emotion.

“I…I have always felt a connection to you. A sense of calm. Your wisdom and grace, but above all, your charm and wit captured my heart before I even knew it.”

“You never said anything,” you reminded, blinking harshly against the realization.

“How could I?” Thor’s thumb brushed the side of your mouth, drawing a choked whimper from you. “You are elegant while I am rough. A prince by title, but not by manner—”

“Do not belittle yourself in my presence.”

Thor chuckled softly, his gaze just as gentle.

“You are the Goddess of Wisdom, Little Queen.” That nickname—the Norns damn it—stirred emotions in you that you had never felt before. “What wisdom would there be in associating with the God of Thunder?”

“Is that why you distanced yourself?” The question was thick with unspoken feelings. “Is that why…why you chose Jane?” Over me. Your thought was left unspoken.

Thor’s expression darkened with remorse, his features shadowed by regret. “Have you never noticed the similarities between you two?”

“What similarities?”

“She is a smart woman. Accomplished, fastidious, attentive, and resilient despite her delicate appearance. Just as you are.”

“She is a mortal,” you countered. 

Thor nodded solemnly. “She cannot be made a queen. Not in the eyes of the Asgardians.”

“Then why—”

“It would be easier to gauge her choice.” Thor shifted his weight from one foot to the other. You realized too late that he was pulling away, keeping you at arm’s length. “As I said.” His gaze traveled the expanse of your body, regret permeating the air suddenly. “Those who choose me do it for Asgard’s throne. Those who choose my brother do it for love,” he reiterated, brokenly. He added in a more fractured tone, “You look stupendous in emerald green, my lady.”

“Viridian,” you corrected, evoking his bafflement. “It’s viridian green, a darker shade than emerald. Truthfully, I had opted for my own colors. But Loki approached my chambers before I could leave, and he all but decided to trick the court to his own advantage.”

“You’re not… you’re not courting Loki?”

You shook your head. “No. He and I have long been friends.”

“Friends,” Thor repeated, but there was a shift in the air when he said the word—as if Valhalla’s gates had opened and the angels descended to Asgard, humming their dulcet ballads.

“Tell me that’s not what we were,” you ventured, figuring that courage ought to accompany wisdom. “Tell me after all that was said and done that we weren’t just friends.”

You expected Thor to flounder, to grapple with an answer to your demand. “It wouldn’t make sense,” he attested. “It wouldn’t make sense if that were all we were, Little Queen.”

The angels of Valhalla must have roared, not sung, because as soon as Thor had breathed those words, tentative and full of fealty, his lips captured your own. You understood then, the complexity that arose from his role as God of Thunder. Your lips were in a fray, lapping at each other, wet and thunderous as you were conquered by his veneration. His large hands grabbed at your bottom, hoisting you up in the air. Your dress didn’t allow you the pleasure of wrapping your legs around his waist, but that didn’t stop you from clutching at his clothes, his hair, his soul.

Thor’s lips caressed your own. There was no set direction to their motion, almost as if he couldn’t decide whether to take it slow or devour you whole. The noises you made, the noises he made, small and mellow, reverberated in the empty space, adding to the symphony of your love and desire.

You didn’t want to pull away. Latching to the thunder and lightning invading your senses, getting lost in the storm.

A shiver ran down your entire body, accentuated by Thor’s teeth nipping at your lower lip. “Y/N,” he whispered breathlessly.

Your eyes opened, your image framed by his irises—protectively and vehemently.

He settled you on the ground, lips widening at your sight. “My colors suit you best.”

You didn’t understand what he had meant until you looked down. Your clothes had changed color. Again. The accent of your attire shifted to a bold red and silver.

“You best not attempt to produce an heir tonight, brother,” Loki sounded from behind Thor. He wore a smug smirk, leaning against one of the balcony pillars. Of course that bastard followed you. “Our chambers are nearby, and I do not need to hear my brother and best friend fondue.”

You blushed, cheeks turning crimson. Thor didn’t even spare Loki a glance, focusing his attention on you. “Little Queen, you look magnificent in my colors strewn across every inch of your body.”

And before you could help yourself, you boldly claimed, “I would look even more magnificent with your love marks strewn across every inch of my body.”

Thor’s eyes darkened, a primal yearning painting his irises with desire. He tugged at your hands then, pulling you to his chest. “Let me mark you with centuries worth of love, Little Queen. Allow me to show you what lesser beings cannot do.”

“Show me, my God.”

You drowned in his ardent storm, uncaring for the waves, noise, or the chaos. It was senseless. Everything you never were. Everything Thor was. Everything you, deep down, longed to feel with him.

Thank you @crazyunsexycool for this request! It was so fun to write for Thor, you can tell since this turned out to be 6K words🥹 I couldn't stop! Seriously, this might've been my favorite fic ever! Thank you for participating in my celebration. ♥️

I might extend my writing celebration if more requests come in. For all those interested, please feel free to follow the link!

I hope you like this one, witchlings. Okay, byeeee.

[szkin-art]

Most icons of Ynneval, the legendary God-Queen of the Sparri people, widely worshipped before the Seccomm invasion, depict her as a six-armed figure, swathed in wire. By those who still follow her cult, she is known by epithets: the Returned, the Eternal, and the Queen of Wires.

In the oldest sources, Ynneval is a goddess of navigation and wisdom. She is closely associated with the foundational myths of Sparr, stemming back to the Yggdrasil, the pre-Fall Generation Ship that settled the planet. As some of the sagas tell it, it was Ynneval herself - then mortal - that led the damaged Yggrasil to Sparr, and ensured the safe landing of the first settlers. The foundations of her cult began here. The city of Ynn was supposedly built atop her final resting place, and Ynneval-worship would form a key part of the cultural identity for Sparri settlers in the Ynn Region.

[magnusmodig]

𝐈𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 since last did thor find himself alighting upon midgard's shores. time spun quickly here , in ways that he could never quite fathom. one moment he had many friends that sailed alongside him across earthen seas. in a blink , what was once an upstart hamlet had become a mighty kingdom , and , seemingly , a prosperous one at that.

perhaps it was with some level of nostalgia that halted thor's steps at the edge of one of the docks , lingering within the crowd. surveying the people that gathered and flocked and milled about , he found himself searching their faces for familiar traits. the ridge of a brow here , the set of one's eyes there , there height and build of someone else further along — but none of them quite sitting right , past glimpses of traits passed down through the generations.

at least , until blue eyes landed upon the woman staring at him. a tilt of the head , a raise of his brow. but thor did not need her to speak for him to recognize who she was. it was written in the fire of her hair , the sea of her eyes. just like those before her , and before them too.

ah , but to be named was to be known , after all.

❝  alas , agnarrsdottir , if it is a play you seek , i am afraid i cannot suffice. for i am not my brother. it is he who much prefers theatre. ❞

@magnusmodig liked for a starter

The young sovereign's brows raised to seemingly new heights as she gazed upon the man before her, her head tilted backwards just to be able to peer into his eyes. Why did he look so familiar?

As Anna's mind began to travel back through her memories, attempting to pin point where she had seen the stranger before, she soon realized that she had been staring for far longer than what was probably deemed acceptable and cleared her throat to break the awkward silence.

"Oh, uh, hello! Welcome to Arendelle! I'm Queen Anna and-OH MY GOSH! THOR!!! That's it! You're dressed like Thor, right?! Oh, I used to read books about him all the time when I was younger! Great way to pass the time, what with the gates being closed and all. Is there a folklore play going on I didn't know about? I would love to see it!", she stated in a rather enthusiastic manner.

[streets-in-paradise]

The Halls of Freya - Thor x (Fem)Vanir!Reader

Warnings: Pre vanishment Thor is quite insistent in his seek to pursue the reader.

Summary: The calm expected for your studying visit to the Aesir gods gets somehow ruined by the intense appreciation of your looks that many began to show you, Prince Thor being the most devoted among your admirors.

With his coronation expected to happen soon, he is determined on the idea of marrying you to make you his queen. Despite facing your subtle rejection over and over, nothing shakes him out of that certainty. Still, he can't help to notice and misinterpretate your friendlyness towards Loki in contrast to the responses he himself has obtained from you.

Slightly jealous of his brother for the first time in his life, he drags him to cooperate in his plan seeking the advice of the goddess of love.

Note: Inspired by this and the swedish song i'm linking below. Full english translation of the lyrics can be found here.

Tags: @thorsslxve

All guests were granted respect and peace in the magnifical asgardian palace, but your arrival seemed to be an exception on the second aspect. As a vanir lady of high nobility, some didn't believe or cared to consider your visit was not essentially social. Adquiring knowledge in the greatest of the Nine Realms, the political center of your universe, was your main goal, but quite many asgardian men had other things in mind when it came to your realm.

Beautifull women, Vanaheim would be forever associated with the looks of Freya in their public conciousness and most Vanir women would get submitted to that image. Asgardian warriors were trying to approach you in herds, scandal spontaneously created on the assumptions typically associated with your origin. Nobody wanted to miss the chance to get a first look of your face and you haven't had dissapointed them.

Prince Loki was the onlyone who remained unimpressed and mocked the situation, winning some of your simpathy from that simple action. Unlike the others, he did acknowledge that Vanir women were also remarkable in the fields of sorcery and divination. Freya herself had shared many magical secrets with the Aesir, matter that should have been as famous across Yggdrasil as her splendid looks were.

From all the fields in magic commonly attributed to the Vanir, your strenght was nature. Completely opposite styles, since yours valued prosperity over power, but Loki was kindly cordial with you as you acknowledged his vastly superior skill. He didn't mind indulging your curiosity from time to time, given that you would pay him with flattery. In that particular context, it was a source of pride for him among all the other asgardians who, unlike him, did want you and were trying to impress you.

His brother, the first of them all.

Thor had been very vocal about his infatuation from the very first moment that he saw you. His whimsical, unstoppable will to chase you was frankly admirable.

Stubborness and chivalry walked hand in hand, managing to either humor you or exasperate you whenever he was near. The eldest prince couldn't stand being ignored and ruining your focus had become his new favorite sport.

" My fairest lady, aren't you bored of your loneliness? " He distracted you once more as you intended to read, making you loose in the sentence. " I believe you won't discover the wonders of my realm hidding your divine face behind that book … Come with me so i can show those to you."

Tempting offer followed by his most charming smile, but you declined.

" Studying is my purpose, Prince Thor. I'm currently more invested in the books on your library than in the contemplation of your glorious looks, and i intend to keep it that way. "

You completed your rejectment with a kind smile, showing it wasn't personal.

" But you must be suffering!" He insisted. " Trapped as you are behind walls, missing the light and the green grasslands of Vanaheim."

You sighed of exahustion, but your eyes were back on him and that was what he wanted to achieve.

" That's why I like to study in the gardens, but your even more frequent visits there have made it impossible."

Thor approached you with hurted innocence, sitting ríght next to you.

" Can I be blamed for feeling curious about the visitor that has deservedly awakened such fascination among my men?" He wondered out loud in sweet whispers. " … Only the race of Freya could have produced a woman so fair, so pridefull. You have mezmerized me and it's with great sorrow that I lament to find your glance fleeing from mine. "

You finnally closed the book.

" I'm here for wisedown, not searching for a man."

The straightfold answer wasn't what he wanted to hear.

" Had a frost giant iced your heart? " He dramatically inquirred. " Mine is burning of love for you, consuming in the wait to make you mine."

His lovely face accompanied the passion of his statement. You could tell he was craving for you to give in so he could break the short distance between you with a kiss.

" I know what you must have heard of us, but not all Vanir women are passionate lovers. "

Nothing could have prepared you for what he had to say about that.

" We will put that on test once you become my queen."

An increíble surprise impossible to hide had caused you to run out of comebacks.

Fortunately someone else granted you one.

" There are two problems with that statement. " Loki pridefully pointed out, approaching him from behind." Father hasn't abdicated the throne in your favor yet, and she is too clever to stand an engagement to you given the volatile nature of your desires."

The god of mischief had found a subtle way of calling him a spoiled brat without it sounding like an offense and for that he made you chuckle.

" Don't listen to my brother's mockery. " Thor defended himself, too focused on you to replicate directly to Loki. " You must trust me. "

" I don't trust any of you. " You mischievously recalled, glancing at the dark haired god, then back at him. " The lady of the shining necklace is very wary of Loki as well, tales circulate in Vanaheim about the tribulations he had repeatedly brought to her. "

You eyes were fixated on Thor as you finished the sentence.

" … Many times, mediating in absurd demmands of marriage from other men."

Loki couldn't beat the allegations, a conversation with Freya was all would be needed to confirm the veracity of those stories.

" Fair enough, that reputation is deserved."

On that you had a specific point to make.

" Just to be clear: you won't get me for him the way you got him the hammer. "

Your acknowledgement of his role in the chain of events was a nice surprise for him, but upsetted his brother.

" I won my ríght to Mjolnir the same way I know I will win your affections. " Thor stated with determination. " Fighting, proving that i'm the best. "

" In that you are mistaken, prince." You coldly corrected, temporally loosing some of your usual politeness. " I'm not a prize for you to win. Even if you believe my beauty is the blessing of Freya's race, you are not entitled to it. "

Far away from being genuinely hurted by the callout, he kept looking at you with adoration.

" I never said i was, but I know you will be my wife. I can feel it, even if you can't currently see it. "

The statement weirded you a bit, so you joked about it.

" Nobody ever told me that the Son of Odin was a seer. "

" Not a seer, a fool. " Loki commented. " He apparently loves to make a fool of himself for you. "

Thor blatantly ignored him, as if the whole world ended in you.

" I will make you fall for me, I promise you that. " He insisted one last time, ríght before holding your hand to place a kiss on your knuckles. " We will be blissfully married, you will be the most stunning queen Asgard has ever seen and I will be your enamored king."

The way in which his blue eyes shined while looking at you said even more than his words. Smiling was like an involuntary reflex for you and he took that as a good sign.

" She can't see it now, but she will be my wife. " He commented to Loki with excitement as soon as you left. " I have a good feeling, brother. She is the one, I must find a way to her heart. "

Loki had quickly realized he was asking for advice because he didn't have the slightlest idea of how to deal with rejectment and refused to face it. Even if it would be just for that, he was very happy with your arrival into their lives. The arrogance and lack of self awareness were still there, but Thor was stumbling with negatories for the first time in his life. For once he had a hard time getting what he wanted and Loki was thrilled to witness it.

" You can always ask your Vanir friend about the courting rituals their women prefer. " He suggested. " Hogun is your closest source, it's his own culture. And he is your only hope, because Fandral has already failed on his own despite being an expert on the matter. "

The blond god smiled as if an insane idea had just occured to him.

A Vanir expert on the matters of love was who he needed as advisor.

" No, no ,no. I know that look. We can't ask her more favors! " Loki stopped him ríght away. " We had terrible experiences in the past, she associates us with anger and annoyance. I wouldn't bother her if it wasn't extremely necesary. "

Thor was careless for the warning.

" She is the greatest expert. Only she can reveal me the secret to win the affections of my beloved. "

The halls of Freya had to welcome him because Thor was welcome anywhere in Asgard. Even if it was true that the splendid goddess had been wrongfully involved in some of his adventures with Loki, she didn't personally despise him for that. However, he was ríght in one detail: they did have the tendency of annoying her to the core. Everytime they had come to her with a problem of theirs, Freya had found herself regretting the help to some extent.

One look at your face was enough for him to toss aside any consideration of risk. At that moment, there was nothing he desired more than your love. The fact that Loki seemed to be your favorite of both had awakened a bit of jealousy in him. You were going to be his, he had no doubt of that, but his brother got an easier time getting closer to you. It was clear that you were friendly to each other in a way that excluided him. In practice, it was more like the difference Loki himself had experienced in his interactions with Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, but it didn't look like that to him.

In fact, Thor was so unused to being treated like that it was quite hard for him. His brother had no friends of his own, reason why he lacked practice as the brother awkwardly engaging in the meetings of a friend group that wasn't really his. He felt left behind whenever you would show to have your own inner jokes with Loki among other signs of your bond in development.

Desperate as he was for your attention, he failed to understand why his brother had more of it even if he knew that he didn't fancy you. Instead of cooperating with his cause, Loki amused himself with jokes at his expense and, for so, he would have to join him in the resolution of his romantical quest.

They reached the magnificent main hall on her asgardian palace, but Freya didn't receive them directly. Instead, her cats inspected the visitors ahead. One passed by Thor with gallant pace and rubbed the head against his leg, but the one that intended to do the same on Loki hissed as soon as his scent was recognized.

" I told you it wasn't a good idea. " The god whispered as they both watched the cat leave in a run. " Clearly, she hasn't forgot of my involvement in all those improvised bargains with lustfull giants desperate to have her. "

" You have paid the price, so did I." Thor calmed him. " If I once had almost considered trading her as ransom for Mjolnir, the sacrifice I endured to avoid it was enough to be forgiven."

Loki wasn't going to let that chance to make fun of him slip away.

" Maybe you should ask her to borrow you her magical necklace again. It's granted that the girl won't stop looking at you if you wear it for her. "

Thor wanted to reply to such shamefull provocation, but he was interrumpted by the sound of a femminine voice approaching. The chant of the lady spoke of a sorceress pridefull rejecting the advances of a flirtatious king in a refined comedical way.

" Lucky of you. " Loki pointed out on the irony. " She seems to be in a good mood today. "

Freya was soon in front of them in all her radiant beauty, but when she saw them, she wasn't happy.

" What have you done this time?" She inmediately questioned them, fearing a disaster. " Unless the frost giants are already on the way, i'm not borrowing you my cloak ever again. "

Gesturally contaning his brother, Loki attempted to save the situation speaking ahead of him.

" Worry not, stunning Freya, since our concerns aren't a matter threatening the gods. I come to you humbly, on behalf of a man suffering for love. "

The eyes of the goddess were like daggers pointed at him.

" You always do, better this not be another of your trade offers. " She warned him, then glanced back at Thor. " It looks like your brother is the suffering lover. "

The god of thunder smiled at her, pleased of being guessed so accurately.

" I'm hopelessly infatuated of the young maiden who has followed you from your homeland. " He began to explain. " … She is the sweetest one this realm has ever known, beautifull like in the most pleasant of dreams, but extremely difficult for my reach. "

Freya wasn't surprised by the confession. Everyone was somewhat aware of how intensely he wanted you, the rarity was to find him admitting he was failing on the conquest.

The goddess of love recognized the desperation in his eyes because she was one of the few that knew it well. She have already seen it many times.

" It's only logical: she is a good representative of everything Vanaheim stands for, as you are for Asgard. " She informed him. " Frey cherishes her, he has practically raised her. From him she had learned the secrets of our kind, and the light magic of the elves in Alfheim. You know well that my brother is a warrior and a lover alike. He has taugh her according to his values: peacefull rullership, love for nature, selfless love and will of sacrifice. "

Her words were indirectly putting in doubt the posibility that Thor possessed such qualities.

" … (y/n) loves Gerd as a mother, and as you know, she isn't a goddess." Freya added, taunting polemic. " My brother gave his sword for the chance of marrying a giantess. This is the image of love she grew up admiring and I doubt she would settle for any less. "

In case he could mix up the interpretation of her words to satisfy his whim, she got very clear with a determinating example showing him the practical translation for his case.

" Would you trade Mjolnir for her, Thor? Ask yourself that, even if she won't demmand you to do it, for this kind of devoted love is the only way to her heart."

The two gods were silenced, shocked by drastically different reasons.

" At least it's most likely that means she isn't currently in love with Loki." Thor finally concluded, refusing to get disencouraged. " He has always jested Frey about his choice, called him a fool for trading his best weapon for a wife. "

In another occasion, that could have accidentally unleashed an argument between Loki and Freya.

The Vanir lady laughed to the assumption and the youngest prince wasn't comfortable with that.

" Excuse me? " The god of mischief stopped the thunder god. " Is that what you think it's happening? "

" She is always so sweet to you! Even when you tease each other, she doesn't mean it with you the same way it falls on me. "

" How?" Loki complained, starting a fight with him instead. " How could you possibly believe that she has fallen for me ? "

" She treats me differently, like if I don't belong among you, and I can't stand it. "

Loki wished he could have openly laughed to his face, the irony was too strong to handle.

Freya read it on his eyes and calculated her strike.

" It's just an affinity, and it doesn't surprise me as much as it should. Your jealousy is pointless, we know he isn't good at keeping friendships. Sooner or later his trickery will damage her and it will fall apart. "

" I shall not be blamed for causing curiosity on her, since your foolish brother has only taught her of light magic and growing plants. " The youngest Aesir Prince defended himself from the provocation. " I bet the girl came to Asgard hoping to learn some real magic. "

For the honor of her brother, the goddess forgot to measure her words carefully.

" Gerd must have showed her some tricks I know you will love. " She coldly sentenced, mentioning the giantess on purpose.

Freya's rage didn't find its límit on Loki, her patience had ran out for both brothers.

" And to you I say: If you don't want to get treated like my old giant suitors, you shall stop behaving like one of them."

The comparison was an offense too great for Thor to tolerate.

" THAT'S ABSURD!!! HOW AM I IN ANY WAY ALIKE TO THOSE MONSTERS??"

His stubborness had awakened her combative spirit.

" Every single day during his worktime here the builder of the asgardian wall used to arrogantly brag to me claiming I was going to be his wife. EVERY-SINGLE-DAY! LOOK HOW FAR THAT GOT HIM! ARE YOU HOPING TO SUCCEED WHERE HE FAILED? "

Circunstantially careless for the presence of his brother, Freya grabbed Thor by the jaw so he would look at her closely as she finished her advice, hoping the words would stick with him.

"Do you think it will work out for you based only on the fact that you are a well spoken and handsome prince? Do you sincerely believe that would make ANY difference? I have rejected towsands like you, not all of them were disgusting ogres.Toss your pride aside and humbly court her with true sweetness instead of this gallant simulation of admiring respect that's nothing but pure arrogance. "

To soften things, she caressed his cheek as she released the grip on his face before providing some encouragement.

" I believe in your good heart, and that's what you should be presenting to her."

The advice was brutal, but very wise. Still, Thor wasn't sure of how much of it was genuine and not only a product of Freya's anger, that he guessed was caused by his brother. Only one thing had been tranquilizing and that was knowing you weren't developing feelings for Loki.

However, the desperation that the trickster god sensed on him under that assumption was an interesting discovery. Thor had kept that small seed of secret distress well hidden untill Freya exposed him. Following the core of the reasoning she presented to them, Loki would gladly assume the role of the servant Skirnir and get him the girl if Thor would grant him a similar reward. Not a magical weapon that time, but the throne of Asgard. He did wonder if his brother could be that foolish, an ever greater fool than Frey ever was in his eyes. Answers eventually came to him when he saw the awe in his expression as he discovered you singing in the gardens of the palace.

Days before the date meant for Thor's coronation, you were trying to cheer up Loki because you were the only one finding his disdain for the situation relatable. While he resented not being the choosen one of his father, you lammented being chosen by his brother. You didn't despise him or deeply resented his interest as completely unwanted, but you knew that once Thor would be crowned king there would be no way out for you. No escape from him, with all the implications that had, and not hating him didn't mean feeling comfortable with a marriage to him.

Frey would come to congratulate the new king and he would have to stay to witness your wedding, so proud that the child he raised has become Queen of Asgard. King Odin himself was the onlyone capable of stopping that madness, maybe moved by the reminder of Gerd indirectly linking you to the giants. That hope was lost when you heard him comment that the peacefull inclinations of a Vanir under the influence of Frey were good balance for Thor's war driven spirit.

Loki was your only hope.

In remembrance of the old stories, you ended up asking him if he could come up with a trick to save you just like all those times he saved Freya from marrying the giants. He laughed, called you a terrible conspirator, and asked you if you loathed his brother that strongly.

The truth was that you didn't, but you couldn't stand the idea of becoming the toy of an arrogant, vain prince. A man who chased you for your beauty, who claimed you were going to be his from the very first moment that he saw you regardless of your opinion.

And yet, that wasn't all what was to be learned about him.

Thor had potential to achieve his goal, you could feel it, but he was blind to it most of the time. His pride blinded him, often turned into entitlement, and you couldn't stand that. Still, you were quite curious for what could be found behind that.

After all, his people loved him for a reason, and you were never able to stay mad at him for long. Vanity aside, you couldn't simply ignore his dedication to you. The way in which his eyes would shine if you responded nicely, his deep voice going slightly softer, his cheery self remaining always enthusiastic no matter the failed landing of his flirting. Allways expectant, waiting for you with such great loyalty like no other of your admirors. The onlyone who managed to make you smile, who would stare at your face but be trully hearing whatever you were telling him.

Venting disdain about him wasn't what you wanted to do about the situation, and it wasn't the ríght way of supporting Loki.You did your part in the way you imagined he preferred to be comforted. No heartfelt speeches, only seeking to humor him with jokes.

That was how Thor had found you, midway into the task of becoming the trickster of a trickster by singing a cheerfull song for his brother. The garden looked even more green and vivacious than usual, work of your magic without doubts. You were wearing a flower crown and behaving with an adorable carefreeness that the god of thunder was incapable of resisting. He remained frozen in his spot, fearing you would stop if you noticed him.

It took him an instant to notice that yours was the same song he heard in the halls of Freya, the dispute of the king and the sorceress. Verses he haven't heard before revealed that the progression of the song was increasingly against the king, He had offered the fair maiden to drink from his goblet, but her reply was terminant.

' I want no wine, I want no mead. To get rid of you is all i need'

Your acting reflected the annoyance and desperation, to what Loki bursted into laughter.

" Your enchanting voice makes anything sound beautifull, my lady. " Thor praised you from afar, finally pacing towards you. " I don't mind being jested when it's done so sweetly."

You turned back and smiled for him, a hint of nervousy over being discovered remaining very visible.

" In Vanaheim, this topic is common in songs meant to be comedical. I believe is the influence of the legends. "

As he observed the interaction, Loki noticed you weren't looking at his brother precisely like the goddess of love used to look at her repulsive suitors.

" The songs of our people speak mostly of battles. " He commented, taking the conversation elsewhere. " The trully amusing ones almost exclusively deal with my shenanigans. "

" And the serious ones focus on my courage. " Thor followed him with pridefull excitement. " I crave to show you some, but I dread that nothing would sound as good in my voice. "

For the very first time ever, he had shown a small glimpse of humility in his courting attempts and you intended to reward it.

" You have a very pleasant speaking voice."

" Then I shall read some asgardian poetry for you! " He suggested and attempted to contain his enthusiasm ríght afterwards. " … If you would consent to spend a while in my company, of course. "

Thor was asking nicely, a change that you approbed. In order to make him see that was the correct path, you couldn't do anything but indulge him.

" I will gladly join you, Prince Thor. "

Radiant of joy as if you would have already agreed to marry him, the old habit slipped back in.

" Not for long, I will soon become King of Asgard. " He corrected you, as if it was meant to impress you. " And the celebration is what i'm looking foward the most. You will have the honor of the first dance, my beloved, with all the kingdom watching us. My glory shall be yours, for I wish no other maiden but you to be admired alongside me. "

" And I suppose you will offer me your silver goblet to drink from as well? " You called him out with mockery. " To what i will have to politely refuse. "

With that, you shortened the distance between you and sweetly sang for him one more verse of the song.

' The King's caresses are not for me, neither I desire his consort to be.'

Thor's lips parted and he released a sigh, ironically enchanted, and the reaction surprised you so much that it made you giggle. It was a display of spontaneous vulnerability, something he had never showed you before.

" Yet how I wish the day will come when you will be mine. " He softly confessed, caressing your cheek. " No King would ever find a better Queen. "

At that point you began to wish you could give in to him. So many doubts were stopping you, mainly due to his oscilant manners. Most of the time he acted like a petulant child, but in moments of brillance like that one he was so close of awakening your feelings.

You couldn't let him know that, not untill noticing stronger signs of long lasting growth. If Thor wanted you that badly, he would have to become a man whose marriage proposal you could take seriously.

And he eventually did, thanks to the trickery of his brother.

For the sake of his own personal interests overlaping with your problem, Loki granted your wish. The coronation was interrupted by a surprise attack of Frost Giants, unleashing Thor's rage beyond any rational measure. His hurted pride claimed vengeance and he recklessly leaded his friends to unleash war on Jotunheim, counting with the company of his brother. Thor's actions were severely punished by the Allfather, who casted him out of Asgard after depriving him from his rank and power.

As Freya later recalled, he got exiled by his own stupidity. You, however, couldn't help feeling guilty about it. Loki didn't have to admit his blame for you to realize he was pulling the strings. He had helped himself and saved you from that rushed wedding, but the cost was peraphs too high.

The chain of events unleashed proved you ríght. As Asgard's temporal regent, Loki denied your ask of returning to Vanaheim. Under his petty excuses, you knew he was probably fearing you would go to Frey with the news, then he would arm the Vanir and the light elves against him counting with the inside support of his sister. Off the record, and sadly, you also were aware to be the closest thing he had to a friend. For so, you were forced to watch his descend into madness.

At his return, Thor reunited with you in the palace of Freya. She had been sheltering you from Loki's rage, unleashed when you couldn't keep supporting him anymore. Despite the fright of those last instants and your regret for trusting him against the lady's advice, you sincerely lammented his passing. The god of thunder found comfort in that, but he seeked more than to vent his grief to you with that visit.

" I owe you my greatest apologies. " He begged for forgiveness, holding your hand. " I was a selfish fool. I overly focused on my feelings for you and never wondered about the true desires of your heart. All you wanted was to chase knowledge unbothered and I kept getting in the way of your dreams for the sake of mine. "

You stared at him in awe, something had changed him deeply during his exile and the result felt like the sign you were waiting for.

" Worry not, good prince: you are forgiven." You answered, caressing his knuckles within the contact he had already established. " Although I do wonder if that dream of yours still stands, many things seem to have changed in the short span of your absence. "

Thor led your hand to his chest, to the spot of his heart.

" It remains yours, if you want it. " He sweetly confirmed. " I hope my learning in exile has made me a man trully worthy of you, but if it's still your wish to decline my affections I will understand it. "

You remained silent for an instant, tasting the moment, and in that feeling he kept the confession flowing.

" Before you take your choice, there is something i need to share. At the peak of my demise I had plenty of time to think, and you were always on my thoughts. From this I have obtained a great realization I need you to hear. "

You were hooked to his every word, craving to discover what he had for you.

" The first time I saw you, I knew i wanted you. That was lust. " He began to explain himself. " When i told you that you would be mine, That was arrogance. "

His eyes were on you the whole time and the sincere warmt in his glance was inviting even tho he wasn't intending that on purpose. There was no masterplan to charm you, only the strenght of his raw feelings being exposed to you.

" And when i realized I would give up everything to keep you, that … That was love. "

Your lips parted for you to sigh in romantical delight, as charmed as you once had made him feel.

" Love is a dream of the Vanir, the true blessing of Freya. " You finally replied, caressing his loose hair and the side of his beard. " So if you love me, and your feelings are true, you are one of my dreams come true. "

Thor couldn't believe what he had heard, prepared as he was to face your final rejection.

" Do your trully want me, in your heart? "

You smiled shyly for him, then nodded affirmatively with the cutest look.

" Many men had stated that they would sacrifice what they value the most for love,but untill now only one had proven it with actions. " Was the reason you gave him. " To the lose of Mjolnir you had also accidentally realized of your real feelings for me. Your punishment found you joining Frey in spirit, as you lost your weapon and discovered the agonical waiting of distant love. "

He didn't consider it before, but you were ríght, and he was very glad you had showed him that.

Before he could thank you again, you were trapping him in sweet embrace.

" Not even in my wildest dreams I could have imagined to be loved like this … and no more nights I will keep you waiting. "

[dailydemonspotlight]

Hel - Day 140

Race: Reaper Arcana: Death Alignment: Dark-Neutral December 6th, 2024

Death is an inescapable part of life, for rather obvious reasons. We all die some day, and, like most natural phenomena, the people of ancient times tried to come up with a reason as to why we did- without the knowledge of how our bodies work, folkloric explanations rose for death and its relevance. Even now, people aren't sure what happens after, and for obvious reasons, too- one can't just ask a dead person what happened. This, naturally, leads to a lot of different beings related to death, beings that bring it and/or guide the dead to the afterlife, if there even is one in said culture.

On that topic, Nordic culture had a very unique take on death, and how it worked- similarly to Christianity, there were several major afterlives one could go to. However, in contrast to the pure Heaven and the pain-ridden Hell, the two afterlives in Norse myth related to how one died- one, Valhalla, was for the warriors who died in battle, and the other, Hel, was where those who died elsewhere went to rest. Hel was so named, finally, for today's Demon of the Day- the eponymous Hel, a jötunn with quite a lot of mystery surrounding her. A daughter of Loki, and a being with much importance, this long introduction finally gives way to Hel herself.

When it comes to Hel, there are two things named as such- the jötunn Hel, who isn't as much a goddess of death as she was the queen of the other thing named Hel, an afterlife also called Helheim or Niflheim in many secondary sources (which I'll also be calling Helheim going forward to make it less confusing). Helheim was the realm that those who died outside of battle went to upon their death, as Viking culture highly valued battle and the honor it brought. The realm was the home for those who died from age, illness, or were too weak or cowardly to fight, among other possible ways to pass. The realm itself was impossibly cold, though the presence of Níðhöggr, the serpent who chewed upon the roots of Yggdrasil, made sure that those passing into the realm became just as cold as the realm itself.

Níðhöggr would head to any new arrivals into Helheim , signaled by the howling of a dog sometimes believed to be Fenrir (which is another insanely complicated topic to get into) and would suck their blood out until they became completely pale, allowing them to be assimilated into Hel's army easier. Helheim itself was actually a rather hard nut to crack, as much of Norse mythology has been corrupted by the only primary source we HAVE for it, thanks Snorri, and it was incredibly likely that most depictions of Helheim were influenced by depictions of Hell in Christian faith rather than an accurate retelling. As always, Snorri has screwed us again. Wish I could get an accurate retelling for the price of sending an email...

Hel herself is an incredibly interesting figure, though she's mostly mentioned in passing throughout the Poetic Edda. As one of the children of Loki, and one he bared with a jötunn, she isn't a goddess- instead, as a jötunn herself, she's tasked with watching over Helheim. She's also the sister of both the world's worst good boy Fenrir and the giant snake Jormungand, though ironically she's probably the nicest of the three- she's not shown as actively malicious, simply cold and indifferent. The only main myth she stars in is the Death of Baldur, though it's also just... too long of a tale to get into right now, but she ends up messing with the Æsir and trapping Baldur in Helheim through the help of Loki. Still, as she's barely mentioned in the Edda, there's not much to go off of with her- she's cold, callous, and indifferent, but that's about all we know. Overall, though, she's an incredibly interesting figure- she represents the grave in a way that Valhalla cannot, and she ultimately likely may have played an important role in Norse civilization, though we can't be sure of either. (snorri when i catch you snorri)

Her design in SMT plays into the cold embrace of death and its aspects in how Helheim is presented, though, again, it's nigh-impossible to actually tell if the way she's presented is accurate to the original mythos. The cold encompassing her legs is a really nice touch, though, and it also plays into the fact that she is a jötunn, being literally a frost giant. I wish we had more to go off of with her, but this DDS is dragging on a bit and the lack of anything concrete that may have not been Snorrified makes this a rather frustrating entry to research.

[julymarte]

just two giant ladies being islandmates, gal pals if you may

[beyralxoxo]

{Crimson War: Valhalla-Ivar The Boneless}

{Chapter 1}

SUMMARY: Yggdrasil finds out about the proposal and begins sulking over her fate knowing that she will have to accept it, while our dear Ivar threatens to kill anyone who wants to bring the topic again, he hates her...or does he?

WORD COUNT: 4,7 K

WARNINGS: swearing-Ivar threatens to kill his brothers (he's joking obv)-arranged marriage proposal

The Geiranger Kingdom, cradled by the fjords and kissed by the icy breath of the northern winds, was a land steeped in legend. Known far and wide as the domain of Freya’s daughters, it was a place of unparalleled beauty and danger. The nymphs, said to be born of the goddess herself, walked among mortals like living myths. They were luminous beings, their power as undeniable as the roar of the sea.

No mortal could dare meet a nymph’s gaze for too long, lest they offend the gods and invite their wrath. Stories told of men who had been struck blind or cursed to wander in madness for their insolence. Yet it was not their eyes alone that drew reverence and fear—it was their hair, flowing and unending, cascading like rivers of moonlight or the black depths of night. Their strength, their very essence, was said to reside within those strands. To touch it was unthinkable, to cut it was sacrilege. They could not be slain, save by a weapon of their own making, a secret they guarded as fiercely as their hearts.

But it was not their invincibility that made them truly dangerous. It was their power to grant immortality to mortals—a gift whispered of in longing by kings and warriors, and coveted in silence by the desperate and the dying. Yet this gift came with a price, for to earn it, one must capture not a nymph’s body, but her soul. To make her fall in love was the greatest challenge of all, and many a man had tried only to fail spectacularly, their pride shattered beneath the nymphs’ laughter.

At the pinnacle of this legendary land sat Queen Boryana, her throne hewn from yew wood and carved with the ancient runes of protection. She was a queen of unmatched strength, her rule a harmonious blend of justice and fear. Under her guidance, Geiranger had grown to become a beacon of power, its cliffs and forests brimming with the whisper of gods. But her greatest achievement was not her rule—it was her daughters. By Freya’s blessing, Boryana had given birth to three daughters: Yggdrasil, Andora, and Varun.

Yggdrasil, the eldest, was the crown jewel of Geiranger. From the moment she drew her first breath, it was clear she was destined for greatness. Named after the great World Tree, her spirit was as unyielding as the roots that bound the nine realms together. Stories of her beauty spread like wildfire across the lands, igniting tales in every hall and hearth. Yet it was not merely her beauty that captivated the hearts of men—it was her presence.

She was striking, her mismatched eyes a gift from the gods themselves. One was the icy blue of a winter sky, sharp and cutting, while the other was a mosaic of dark brown and forest green, as if the earth and woods had found their home within her. Her hair was a raven’s black, thick and unyielding as it spilled in waves to the very ground. She carried it like a crown, a mark of her divinity and power.

From her youngest years, Yggdrasil was trained in the art of war. The clash of steel and the sting of northern winds became her companions. She was taught to wield a sword with the grace of a dancer, to command a shield wall with the authority of a general. Yet she was also schooled in the duties of a woman, though she cared little for embroidery or courtly smiles. She was a force of nature, a storm bound in mortal form.

Suitors came in droves, kings and their sons eager to kneel at her feet. They whispered promises of gold, of kingdoms, of eternal devotion. But Yggdrasil wanted none of it. “I do not need a man to find my joy,” she had declared boldly, her voice ringing out like a war horn. Her words sent ripples of unease through the halls of Geiranger, for such defiance was rare among women, even among nymphs.

Yet, for a time, her defiance was indulged. She walked her path untouched, her days filled with the hum of practice swords and the call of the wild winds. She was content in her solitude, finding solace in the strength of her own hands.

But fate is seldom kind to those who defy it.

Queen’s Boryana’s Palace

The sharp clang of steel against steel echoed across the training grounds, the rhythmic song of blade and shield reverberating through the crisp morning air. It was a sound that brought fear to some, awe to others, and absolute certainty to all—it meant Yggdrasil, the eldest daughter of Geiranger, was training. Gods help anyone foolish enough to disturb her.

The young maid who had drawn the unlucky task of delivering a message stood frozen at the edge of the training field, clutching her apron as if it were a lifeline. She watched as Yggdrasil moved with a precision that was almost otherworldly, her strikes as fluid as the rivers that carved the fjords. Her black braid whipped like a serpent behind her, the thick strands heavy with the weight of their legendary power. The sight of the princess was enough to render the maid’s throat dry, but duty left no room for cowardice.

Summoning her courage, the maid called out, her voice trembling, “M-My Lady? Your mother is asking for you.”

The clash of steel halted mid-strike, the silence that followed heavier than the sound of battle. Yggdrasil held her position for a heartbeat, her blade poised and her breath steady. Slowly, she lowered her sword, turning to face the girl. Her mismatched eyes, fixed upon the maid. It was not a cruel gaze, but it was sharp enough to cut through stone.

“And did she tell you the reason for this summons?” Yggdrasil asked, her tone calm but edged with the faintest trace of irritation.

The maid shook her head quickly, her eyes cast downward. “No, My Lady. She… she did not.”

Yggdrasil let out a soft sigh, the sound carrying both exasperation and resignation. Without another word, she turned away, her hand moving with practiced ease to rest the sword against the rack by the wall. Her movements were deliberate, controlled—every gesture a reminder of the discipline that had been drilled into her from the time she could walk.

She threw her braid over her shoulder with a swift motion, its weight falling heavily against her back, and began the long walk to her mother’s chambers. The corridor stretched ahead of her, lined with tapestries depicting the gods and their triumphs. She knew every thread, every story woven into their fabric.

Her boots echoed against the stone floor, and with each step, she felt the weight of expectation settle more heavily upon her shoulders. Her training was her sanctuary, the only place where she could wield her will unchallenged. Leaving it behind always felt like surrendering a part of herself, even if only for a moment.

As she approached the doors to her mother’s chambers, she paused, her hand resting against the cool iron handle. She inhaled deeply, steadying herself. Whatever Boryana wanted, it would not be a simple matter. Her mother’s summons were never without reason, and they rarely boded well for Yggdrasil’s peace.

With a final breath, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Yggdrasil stepped into her mother’s chambers, her eyes adjusting to the warm glow of the hearth. The room was as it always was—elegant but functional, with shelves lined with old tomes and jars of herbs, their scents mingling in the air. A faint smile flickered across her face as she called out, “Mother? You wanted to see me?”

Her eyes lingered on the table strewn with pages, some bearing her mother’s intricate handwriting. She approached, her fingers brushing over the parchment absentmindedly as she scanned the scattered notes.

“I’m here, sweetling,” Boryana’s voice came from an adjoining room, and moments later, she stepped into view.

Boryana looked as she always did—like a woman untouched by time. Her dark hair fell in soft waves, her skin smooth and radiant as though the years dared not touch her. Yet, there was a weight in her green eyes, the kind that only a life lived in the shadow of both love and loss could bring.

Yggdrasil straightened, the hint of a smile still on her lips as her mother approached and placed a gentle kiss on her head. “You’ve been busy,” Boryana said, her voice light but carrying the warmth of a bond that needed no words.

“I could say the same of you,” Yggdrasil replied with a soft chuckle, gesturing toward the mess of papers. “I take it this summons isn’t for idle talk?”

Boryana smiled, but it was faint, weighed down by something unsaid. “And if it were? Can a mother not ask after her daughter’s well-being without suspicion?”

Yggdrasil tilted her head, her mismatched eyes narrowing playfully. “You’re many things, Mother, but idle is not one of them. Out with it—what’s on your mind?”

Boryana sighed, motioning for Yggdrasil to sit. Her daughter hesitated, curiosity flickering across her face, but she obeyed, lowering herself onto the edge of a sturdy chair. Boryana sat beside her, taking Yggdrasil’s hands in her own.

“A letter has arrived,” she began, her voice steady but softer than usual. “From King Ragnar.”

At the mention of him the girl smiled softly, Ragnar has been like a adoptive brother of her mother, and a father figure to her, Yggdrasil’s expression softened further. “Uncle?” she asked, her tone warming. “What news does he bring? It’s been months since I’ve heard from him.”

Boryana’s grip tightened on her daughter’s hands, her eyes searching Yggdrasil’s face. “It’s not the kind of news you might hope for, sweetling. Ragnar’s letter is… a proposal.”

The warmth in Yggdrasil’s face faded in an instant. Her hands stiffened in her mother’s grasp, and her mismatched eyes sharpened, flickering with disbelief. “A proposal?” she echoed, her voice quiet but strained. “What kind of proposal?”

“It’s for you,” Boryana said, her words gentle but firm. “A marriage proposal. To Ivar.”

Yggdrasil pulled her hands away, leaning back in her chair as if struck. She stared at her mother, her expression caught between disbelief and something far darker. “Ivar?” she said, her voice thick with derision. “Tell me this is a jest, Mother, because I might laugh if it weren’t so damned insulting.”

“Silla,” Boryana said softly, using her daughter’s childhood nickname.

“Don’t,” Yggdrasil snapped, standing abruptly. Her pacing was deliberate, her hands flexing as if itching for the sword she had left behind. “You expect me to take this seriously? Why would I—why should I—marry Ivar?” She scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “He’s Ragnar’s son, yes, but he’s also an arrogant, selfish little pup. The gods know I’ve endured him enough to know that much.”

Boryana rose gracefully, her hands clasped before her. “Yggdrasil, listen to me. This is not a matter of mere whim or convenience. Ragnar is thinking of your safety. Your father’s shadow looms large, even here, and—”

“Safety?” Yggdrasil interrupted, spinning to face her mother. “You think Ivar of all people would keep me safe? Where was his protection when I needed it? Where was he when I had no one but myself to rely on?” Her voice cracked, just barely, but she steadied it quickly. “If you think I’ll trust him now, you’re wrong.”

Boryana stepped closer, her violet eyes glinting with both sorrow and resolve. “Ragnar loves you as his own, Yggdrasil. You know that. He only wants what’s best for you. Ivar has grown—he’s not the boy you once knew.”

Yggdrasil laughed bitterly. “Grown? Into what? A man? A warrior? A shield for his father’s ambitions?” She shook her head, her braid swaying with the motion. “I love Ragnar. You know I do. But if he thinks I’ll play pawn in this game of alliances, he’s mistaken.”

Boryana reached out, her hand resting lightly on Yggdrasil’s arm. “This isn’t about alliances, sweetling. This is about ensuring you have a future—a future where you don’t have to fight every battle alone.”

“I’ve never had anything but battles, Mother,” Yggdrasil said, her voice quieter now, though no less fierce. “And I’d rather die by my own blade than tie my life to someone who wasn’t there when it counted.”

Boryana’s expression softened, but the sadness in her eyes deepened. “I only want you to be safe, my child. That is all I’ve ever wanted.”

“And I want to live my life on my own terms,” Yggdrasil replied, her voice steady but full of quiet defiance. “I owe Ragnar much, but I owe Ivar nothing.”

The silence between them was thick, heavy with the weight of words left unsaid. Yggdrasil inhaled deeply, forcing her emotions back beneath the surface. “If Ragnar wants to speak of this proposal, let him come himself. Until then, Mother, I’ve nothing more to say on the matter.”

With a final glance at Boryana, Yggdrasil turned and strode from the room, her steps firm and resolute. Behind her, Boryana remained still, her hands clasped tightly as she whispered a prayer to the gods.

Yggdrasil stormed through the castle corridors, her braid swinging wildly behind her. The chill in the air couldn’t compete with the fire raging in her chest. Her mother’s words echoed in her mind, sharper than any blade she had ever wielded.

Marry Ivar? Of all the gods-damned ideas.

She needed solitude, her chambers, a place to vent her fury. But as she turned a corner, she was met with an obstacle even the fiercest warrior would hesitate to face—her two younger sisters, Andora and Varun.

“Yggdrasil!” Andora called out, her voice light and teasing, as it always was. Her blue eyes sparkled like the morning sea, a stark contrast to her sister’s foul mood. “Where are you storming off to? You look like you’re ready to strangle someone—or did you already, and you’re running to hide the body?”

Varun stood silently beside her, leaning against the stone wall. Her green eyes didn’t sparkle—they pierced. She had the uncanny ability to see straight through Yggdrasil’s bravado, a trait Yggdrasil found both infuriating and comforting.

“Move,” Yggdrasil barked, her tone curt.

Andora gasped dramatically, placing a hand over her heart. “Move? Without so much as a greeting? Sister, you wound me.” She stepped in front of Yggdrasil, blocking her path. “Something’s clearly amiss, and I demand to know what it is. Was it Mother? Did she finally tell you you’re not her favorite?”

“Very funny,” Yggdrasil muttered, though a ghost of a smirk tugged at her lips despite her sour mood. “Now, step aside.”

“Not until you tell us what’s wrong,” Andora said, planting her hands on her hips.

Varun straightened, her quiet presence filling the space like a rising tide. “She won’t say until she’s ready,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “But something’s happened. I can see it in her eyes.”

“Which ones?” Andora quipped. “The dark one, or the icy one?”

Yggdrasil let out a sharp breath, half a laugh and half a growl. “Fine. If you must know, Mother’s gone mad.”

Andora’s brows lifted in mock surprise. “Oh? And here I thought that happened years ago. What did she do this time?”

“She agreed to a marriage proposal,” Yggdrasil snapped.

Both sisters froze.

“A marriage proposal?” Andora echoed, her voice dripping with disbelief. “For you?”

Yggdrasil narrowed her eyes. “Yes. For me. What’s so surprising about that?”

Andora waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, nothing. Except that you’ve sworn off every man who’s dared to ask. I figured Mother had finally accepted your destiny as a lone shieldmaiden with nothing but a sword and a bad temper to keep you company.”

Varun, ever composed, tilted her head. “Who is it?”

Yggdrasil hesitated, her fists clenching at her sides. “It’s from Uncle Ragnar.”

Varun’s green eyes darkened. “And?”

“And it’s for Ivar,” Yggdrasil spat, the name like poison on her tongue.

Andora reeled back as though she’d been struck. “Ivar? As in Ivar the Boneless? As in the same Ivar who used to smear mud in your hair when we were children?”

“The very same,” Yggdrasil said bitterly.

Andora let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, that’s rich. Mother wants you to marry him? She must think the gods have a cruel sense of humor.”

“Apparently, she thinks it’s my only chance at safety,” Yggdrasil muttered, the words tasting bitter in her mouth.

Varun’s gaze sharpened. “Do you believe that?”

“No,” Yggdrasil said, her tone firm. “I don’t need anyone to keep me safe. Least of all Ivar.”

“Good,” Andora said, grinning. “Because the day you let that sniveling snake call you ‘wife’ is the day I grow a beard and take up fishing.”

Yggdrasil snorted, a flicker of amusement breaking through her frustration. “I’d pay to see that.”

Varun stepped closer, her voice low and steady. “Mother may mean well, but you’ve always fought your own battles, Yggdrasil. You don’t need a man to do it for you.”

“Exactly!” Andora chimed in, throwing an arm around Yggdrasil’s shoulders. “You’re the strongest, fiercest, most bull-headed woman in this entire kingdom. And if Ivar so much as looks at you the wrong way, I’ll gut him myself.”

Yggdrasil chuckled dryly, shaking her head. “Get in line, Andora. If Ivar crosses me, he’ll wish the gods had taken him first.”

“That’s the spirit,” Andora said, her grin widening.

Varun gave a small nod, her green eyes steady and reassuring. “Whatever happens, we’re with you.”

Yggdrasil looked at her sisters, their unwavering support softening the edges of her anger. For all her frustration, she knew she could face anything with them by her side. She drew in a deep breath, straightening her shoulders.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, her voice filled with genuine gratitude.

“Always,” Andora said, giving her a playful nudge. “Now, go find your chambers and brood, or whatever it is you were planning to do before we so kindly intervened.”

Yggdrasil smirked, her fiery spirit rekindled. “Don’t think this means I’ll share the mead later.”

Andora gasped. “After all we’ve done for you?”

“Not a drop,” Yggdrasil said, already walking away.

Her sisters’ laughter followed her down the corridor, a reminder that no matter what battles lay ahead, she would never face them alone.

And while Yggdrasil sulked in her chambers from the news she recieved, a certain young man in Kattegat was not yet aware of the news he will recieve.

Kattegat

Ragnar sat at the long oak table, the flickering candlelight casting shadows across his weathered face. He twirled a knife absentmindedly between his fingers, the blade glinting as if it were a toy rather than a weapon. His eyes were distant, lost in thought as his mind played over the proposal. Across from him, Aethelstan sat with his hands folded, his brow furrowed in concern.

"Do you think it’s a good idea? The proposal, I mean," Aethelstan asked, his voice quiet but laced with doubt.

Ragnar shrugged, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "He is a wild one, no doubt. And by the gods, he can act like a spoiled child, throwing tantrums over the smallest things. But I know one thing for certain—those two," he gestured toward the distant lands of Geiranger, "could conquer everything, if they ever decided to work together."

Aethelstan sighed deeply, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He leaned forward, eyes searching Ragnar’s face for some sign of hesitation, something that would ease his own worries. "I understand that. But Ragnar, I know Yggdrasil. She won’t take this proposal lightly, if at all. She has despised Ivar since they were children—ten and twelve years old, for the love of Thor. There’s no chance she’ll agree to this willingly."

Ragnar paused, twirling the knife once more. His grin remained, though it was tinged with something darker, something that hinted at long experience in the ways of both men and women. His voice, when he spoke, was calm, but there was a weight to it. "And that’s exactly why it is his chance, Aethelstan. The gods have a way of making us face the things we least want to confront. Ivar may be many things, but this is his moment. To prove that he has changed, that he can be more than the arrogant child she remembers."

Aethelstan winced slightly, his mouth tightening into a thin line. "Ivar… has never apologized to anyone. Not once in his life. Since the time he was born, the boy has never once said ‘sorry’ to anyone. He doesn’t know how."

Ragnar chuckled darkly, the sound rich with a thousand battles and unspoken truths. He set the knife down on the table, his eyes narrowing as he met Aethelstan’s gaze. "There’s always a time for change, Aethelstan. Even for men like Ivar."

Aethelstan shook his head, as if the thought was too much to bear. "Change? You think a proposal will change him?"

Ragnar leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled together, his expression almost playful now. "I’m not saying it will. But sometimes, it’s the most unexpected things that force a man to grow. You of all people should know that. It’s in the struggles, in the moments of pressure, that we find out what we're truly made of. You think Ivar will just slip into this? No. He'll fight it, just as he’s always fought everything. But he won’t win this time. Not with her."

Aethelstan looked down at his hands, the weight of Ragnar’s words settling over him like a cloak of inevitability. "And Yggdrasil? You’re willing to put her through this... torment? You know she’ll resent it."

Ragnar’s grin deepened, a flicker of mischief in his eyes. "Aye, I know she will. But she’s strong. She’s always been strong. She will come to see that this isn’t just about the past, about what Ivar was. It’s about what he can become. And the gods know, if there’s anyone who can turn that boy into a man, it’s her."

Aethelstan didn’t respond immediately. He only nodded slowly, though his heart felt heavier than when he had first entered the room. The weight of the proposal hung over them both now, a heavy cloud that neither could shake.

"I pray you’re right, Ragnar," Aethelstan said, his voice low. "For all our sakes, I pray you’re right."

Ragnar picked up the knife again, tapping it idly on the table as though the conversation were already over. "The gods have spoken, Aethelstan. Now we just wait and see how they play this hand."

Ivar sat hunched over in his chambers, the repetitive scrape of his knife against the whetstone barely keeping his thoughts at bay. The blade gleamed, sharp enough to split hairs, but the edge wasn’t nearly as sharp as his mood. His brothers had been unusually quiet all day, which only meant trouble. And trouble had a way of finding him, especially when his idiotic siblings were involved.

The door crashed open, slamming against the wall with a resounding thud. Ivar didn’t look up, his lips curling in irritation. He already knew who it was.

"By Thor’s hammer, can’t you two morons knock like civilized people?" he growled.

Ubbe strolled in first, casual as ever, followed by Hvitserk, who looked like he was already suppressing a laugh. "Civilized? From the man who once hurled an axe at a servant for breathing too loud? Spare me," Ubbe said, plopping himself down on Ivar’s bed without a care in the world.

Hvitserk leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms with that infuriating smirk of his. "You look cozy, Ivar. What’s got you sharpening that knife? Thinking of murdering someone, or is this just your version of knitting?"

Ivar’s grip on the knife tightened. "If you two are here to waste my time, you’ll be leaving with fewer fingers than you came in with."

"Relax, little brother," Ubbe said, waving him off. "We’re here to... congratulate you."

That caught Ivar’s attention. He set the knife down carefully, his sharp blue eyes narrowing like a hawk sizing up its prey. "Congratulate me? For what? Outliving the pair of you morons?"

Hvitserk chuckled, pushing off the wall to saunter further into the room. "No, no. We’re here to congratulate you on your... impending marriage."

The air in the room seemed to shift, the tension snapping like a bowstring. Ivar’s face twisted into a mask of confusion and rage. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he hissed, his voice low and dangerous.

Ubbe grinned, clearly enjoying the moment. "Father’s arranged it. You and Yggdrasil. A match made by the gods themselves—or by Ragnar’s twisted sense of humor. Either way, it’s happening."

For a moment, Ivar didn’t move. Then, without warning, he slammed his fist into the table, the sound echoing through the room. "That old bastard’s finally lost his mind!" he bellowed. "Marry her? Yggdrasil?! I’d rather stick this knife through my own heart!"

Hvitserk was laughing openly now, leaning against the table for support. "Come on, Ivar. She’s not that bad. A bit sharp-tongued, sure, but at least she’s good-looking. You’ll have beautiful, angry children together."

Ivar turned on him so fast it was a wonder he didn’t sprain something. "I will carve that stupid grin off your face, Hvitserk," he snarled, his voice trembling with fury. "Don’t you dare speak about her like she’s some... gift. She’s a nightmare. A walking, talking curse."

Ubbe raised an eyebrow, his expression somewhere between amused and exasperated. "You’re being dramatic, even for you. She’s strong, smart, and she doesn’t take anyone’s shit. Honestly, she’s the only person in the world who could tolerate you."

"She doesn’t tolerate me," Ivar snapped. "She hates me. And the feeling is mutual."

Hvitserk clapped a hand to his chest, feigning shock. "Oh, the venom in your voice, brother! One might think you’re overcompensating. You don’t... like her, do you?"

The knife was back in Ivar’s hand before anyone could blink, the tip pointed directly at Hvitserk. "Say that again, and I’ll make sure you never like anyone ever again."

Ubbe sighed, standing and placing a hand on Ivar’s shoulder to calm him. "Enough, Ivar. We’re not here to fight. Father made the decision, and whether you like it or not, you’re going to have to deal with it."

Ivar shrugged off Ubbe’s hand, his chest heaving with barely contained rage. "Deal with it? Deal with her? Do you have any idea what you’re asking? She’s insufferable. Always has been. She walks around like she owns the gods-damned world, like she’s better than me. And now Ragnar expects me to... to marry her?"

Hvitserk, still grinning like an idiot, chimed in. "Well, to be fair, she is better than you. In most ways."

Ivar turned on him again, his face a mask of fury. "Do you want to die today, Hvitserk? Because I’m in the mood to make it happen."

"Easy, little brother," Ubbe said, stepping between them. "We get it. You hate her. Fine. But maybe, just maybe, you’re confusing hate with something else."

Ivar barked out a laugh, sharp and humorless. "Oh, don’t start with that nonsense. I know exactly what I feel. I hate her. I hate her arrogance, her voice, her face—"

"Her face?" Hvitserk interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "Interesting choice of words. Sounds like you’ve been staring at it a bit too much."

The knife flew, embedding itself in the wooden post next to Hvitserk’s head. He didn’t even flinch, though his grin widened. "Ah, there’s that famous Ivar temper. You know, you’re proving our point, brother. You’ve got it bad."

Ivar threw his hands up, pacing the room like a caged animal. "Get out. Both of you. Before I make good on my threats."

Ubbe clapped him on the shoulder again, this time with more force. "Think about it, Ivar. You might hate her, but you can’t ignore her. That says something, doesn’t it?"

Hvitserk chuckled, pulling the knife from the post and tossing it back to Ivar. "We’ll leave you to your brooding, little brother. Just try not to burn the place down while you’re at it."

The door slammed shut behind them, leaving Ivar alone in the suffocating silence. He stared at the knife in his hand, his thoughts a storm he couldn’t control. He hated Yggdrasil. He was sure of it. But in the back of his mind, a small, unwelcome thought whispered: If you hate her so much, why can’t you stop thinking about her?

[uncaught-coolfish]

Fuck it I guess I'll go first.

Why oh fucking WHY was the Ever After not the fucking AFTERLIFE!!!! Seriously, this would have been so perfect as a fucking arc not only for Ruby and her team encountering the people who had died along the way while helping them grow. Since you know when good ol' MKEK, aka. "We can't write for shit." did say Volume nine was about growth until they double baked for one of the most poorly written depictions of mental health ever. This was so bad that it made Thirteen Reasons Why look good! Yeah I went there!!!

The amount of missed opportunities that was there we could have seen Penny explaining to Ruby why she had to die in order for Winter to get the Maiden Powers proclaiming that it was more suited for her rather than herself.

Weiss reuniting with her grandfather and even standing up to her father again along with her antecedents and descendants that she is her own person now and reinforces it by showing Jacques why he was never worthy of holding up the Schnee title.

A final showdown between Blake and Adam with the inclusion of Spirit Sun (since in Before the Dawn, he said he saw visions of a tree. Pertaining to Yggdrasil which I am calling it that since in Volume nine it was only called the Tree and that was it.) with blake promising that she will try to make humans and faunus try to understand and come together in her own way if she must. While Sienna Khan and the other faunus murdered by humans or anti-faunus rights activists all place the future of the Faunus on both hers and Suns shoulders.

Yang learning from people from Taiyangs bloodline how to control her anger so much so that she even admits that she isnt perfect to Blake and tells her to find someone that will love her more than she. Alluding to Sun as he was there more for her than Yang was, which the two agree in a platonic manner.

Oh and the fact we could get to see a mix of Ancient Remnant peeps, Afterans and even mythological creatures (respectfully since they NEARLY shat the bucket there) Oh and the BIGGEST ONE OF THEM ALL .

RUBY MEETING SUMMER ROSE

Sweet Jesus even up the stakes a little by having their souls fall apart as they travel across the Ever-After in a Race Against Time Arc but at the same time we see their semblances Evolve and Grow against the main villain the Red Queen (Not the Red Prince since I like to think he is cared for by the Curious Cat) and the Curious Cat not being some stupid twist villain again but this time someone who was created by the God of Darkness as one of the only "good" creations he had seen. and at the end the Tree of Yggdrasil gives Ruby and Co.... the biggest question to be answered right in front of them.

A WAY TO BEAT SALEM

Like holy SWEET MOSES it is so easy to do a Journey through the Afterlife Arc while giving the characters more time to flesh out and help them grow.

Hot Take Assessment:

This is a really cool idea actually. Tbh I think what I would’ve done for the Ever After is keep the gang separated for longer than like. Half of the first episode.

Keep yang alone since she was the first to go down. Maybe have that connect to her backstory of being abandoned by Raven. Maybe have Blake & Ruby sticking with each other. Develop more of the bond that the two started to have in V8 bc that was really cute and I’m bummed it kind of went nowhere.

Keep Weiss alone and actually FOCUS ON HER AND DONT MAKE HER INTO COMIC RELIEF and how she deals with the fact that her entire home is just. gone. Also the fact that she was the last one standing after her friends presumably died around her.

The one thing I’d change from V8 here is that none of ORNJ falls. Not in a “Jaune gets too much screen time” way, but in a… it makes the cast less messy for this season, way.

And have Neo in the shadows chasing them around. Maybe even throw in some familiar faces, deceased or otherwise. Some purgatory like thing idk.

I might just make that a fic😧

TL;DR Ever After should’ve been a lot less Alice in Wonderland (because they somehow made wonderland boring :() and a lot more Avatar’s Swamp episode.

[corneliushickey]

i'm a cringe millenial 5evr and would never want to see him replaced but thiddles is too fucking old to be playing mcu!loki. this is so embarrassing. he's been too old for a minute. let him age into evil flamboyant queen oldman/ikol!loki or get someone else. t'chalamet is the right age now after a decade of kid!loki fan graphics but probably (rightly) uninterested. better alternative to all of this can we just let him stay dead. i can't take any more of this. he's stuck in yggdrasil forever now holding a bunch of glowing jumpropes can we just leave him fucking be. i'm so tired of this. they keep killing him and i keep nailing the coffin shut and the mouse keeps pulling the nails out and puppeting him around. it's enough. it's been enough. all this and they've only ever made one (1) cute piece of merch in fifteen fucking years. it was a metal keychain of his helmet that was released around ragnarok and never reprinted afterwards. i'm exhausted.

[sapphirelotus]

a guide to the witch’s sabbats

This honestly took a lot longer than I thought but here’s my post on each of the Sabbats

POSTER’S NOTE: I will be posting the dates for each Sabbat when they are celebrated in the Northern Hemisphere and the Southern Hemisphere

•Imbolc

Northern Hemisphere: February 1-2

Southern Hemisphere: August 1-2

Midpoint between Winter Solstice and Spring Equinox

Fire Festival • Quickening

Animals: bears, ewes, goats, groundhogs, sheep, snakes, wolves

Beverages: beer, milk, spiced wine

Colors: blue, green, red, white, lavender

Gods: Aengus Mac Og, Eros, Faunus, Februus, Freyr, Innus, Lupercus, Pan

Goddesses: Aphrodite, Artemis, Athena, Brigid/St. Brigid, Diana, Gaia, Persephone, Selene, Venus

Foods: butter, cheese, garlic, grains, leeks, onions, peppers, shallots, yogurt

Gemstones: amethyst, bloodstone, garnet, ruby

Incense: basil, cinnamon, frankincense, myrrh, rosemary, vanilla

Plants: acorns, crocus, grape hyacinth, primrose, snowdrops

Symbols: besom, Brigid’s Cross, candles, seeds, Shepherd’s Crook, sun wheel

Magickal Energies: agriculture, beginning, birth, cleansing, courtship, divination, fertility, growth, life, love, protection, purity, rebirth, return of the sun, spring

•Ostara

Northern Hemisphere: held between March 19-22)

Southern Hemisphere: held between September 21-23)

Spring Equinox

Solar Festival • Growth

Animals: bears, bees, butterflies, birds, goats, rams, rabbits/hares

Beverages: milk, cream

Colors: gold, green, lavender, light blue, pink, white, yellow

Gods: Adonis, Attis, Dagda, Holly King,Oak King, Jesus, Odin, Osiris

Goddesses: Aphrodite, Cybele, Demeter, Eostra, Hera, Ishtar, Persephone

Foods: chard, dairy, eggs, honey, lemon balm, lettuce, marjoram, nuts, seeds, spinach, thyme

Gemstones: agate, amethyst, red jasper, lapis lazuli, moonstone, clear quartz, rose quartz

Incense: cinnamon, dragon’s blood, frankincense, jasmine, myrrh, orange peel, rose, strawberry, violet

Plants: daffodil, daisy, dandelion, honeysuckle, hyacinth, jasmine, lily, primrose, tulip, violet

Symbols: basket, cauldron, eggs, feathers, seedlings

Magickal Energies: balance, beauty, beginnings, birth, cleansing, duality, fertility, life, nurturing, rebirth, renewal, sex

•Beltane

Northern Hemisphere: May 1

Southern Hemisphere: October 31

Beginning of summer

Fire Festival • Rebirth

Animals: bees, bulls, cats, cattle, goats, rabbits, sheep, snakes

Beverages: milk, water, wine

Colors: green, light blue, orange, pink, purple, red, yellow, white

Gods: Apollo, Bacchus, Cernunnos, Cupid, Dionysus, Eros, Frey

Goddesses: Aphrodite, Bast, Brigid, Diana, Flora, Freya, Rhiannon, Venus

Foods: butter, dairy, oat/barley cakes, fresh fruit, herbs

Gemstones: amber, carnelian, emerald, garnet, malachite, rose quartz, pink tourmaline

Incense: vanilla, jasmine, lilac, rose, peach

Plants: daisy, honeysuckle, ivy, mint, primrose, rose, violet

Symbols: bells, bonfire, candles, cauldron, chalice, faeries, flowers, may basket, may doll, may pole, may queen, sun, wool, yggdrasil

Magickal Energies: bounty, commitment, community, divination, divine marriage, fertility, fire, fruition, good fortune, growth, handfasting, happiness, healing, health, joy, life, light, love, lust, mating, maturity, prosperity, protection, sex, summer, sun, vows, warmth

•Litha

Northern Hemisphere: held between June 20-22)

Southern Hemisphere: held between December 20-22)

Summer Solstice

Solar Festival • Fire Festival • Culmination

Animals: bees, birds, cattle, donkeys, horses

Beverages: fruit juice, herbal teas, mead, milk

Colors: gold, green, orange, red, white, yellow

Gods: Bel/Belenus, Lugh, St. John the Baptist, Holly King, Oak King, Apollo, Dagda, Helios, Ra, Ares, Mars, Zeus

Goddesses: Artemis, Isis, Vesta, Diana, Freya, Aphrodite, Venus, Inanna, Epona

Foods: barbecue chicken, barbecue pork, cheese, cinnamon, eggs, fresh fruit, fresh vegetables, ginger, honey, lemon, lime, mint, nuts, oranges, turmeric, yogurt

Gemstones: amethyst, emerald, jade, lapis lazuli, malachite, gold topaz

Incense: jasmine, lemon, lotus, rose, sandalwood

Plants: basil, chamomile, daisy, dogwood, lavender, mint, mistletoe, oak, rose, saffron, sage, sunflower, thyme, verbena, vervain

Symbols: bonfire, candle, circle, dagger, feathers, oak leaf, sun dial, sun wreath, sword, wreath

Magickal Energies: abundance, blessing, blooming, divination, faery work, feasting, fertility, fire, fulfillment, good health, growing, life, light, love, luck, marriage, maturity, passion, pregnancy, prosperity, protection, repelling evil spirits, success, summer, transformation, unions

•Lughnasadh

Northern Hemisphere: August 1

Southern Hemisphere: February 1 

Midpoint between Summer Solstice and Autumn Equinox

Fire Festival • Harvest Festival • Decline

Animals: calf, phoenix

Beverages: beer, cider, herbal tea

Colors: gold, green, red, orange, yellow

Gods: Adonis, Hermes, Jesus, Lugh, Mercury, Osiris, Vulcan

Goddesses: Ceres, Corn Grandmother, Demeter, Isis, Persephone, Rhiannon

Foods: apples, breads, fish, fruit, grains, honeycomb toffee

Gemstones: amber, aventurine, carnelian, citrine, obsidian, peridot, gold topaz

Incense: chamomile, rosemary, sandalwood

Plants: apples, barley, corn, garlic, marigold, myrtle, onion, sunflower

Symbols: candles, corn dolly, scythe, wheat sheaves

Magickal Energies: agriculture, competition, cultivation, fertility, gardening, growth, harvest, hope, preparation, rebirth, reflection, resurrection, transitions

•Mabon

Northern Hemisphere: held between September 20-22)

Southern Hemisphere: held between March 20-22)

Autumn Equinox

Solar Festival • Harvest Festival • Harvest

Animals: goose, swan

Beverages: beer, cider, mead, wine

Colors: blue, brown, gold, green, orange, red, yellow

Gods: Adonis, Arwan, Bacchus, Cernunnos, Dagda, Dionysus, Freyr, Hades, Odin, Osiris, Pluto, Saturn

Goddesses: Ceres, Demeter, Freyja, Gaia, Isis, Persephone, Proserpina, Terra

Foods: apples, corn, grain, nuts, pears, pomegranates, pumpkin, sweet potatoes

Gemstones: amber, citrine, sapphire, tiger’s eye, gold topaz

Incense: frankincense, myrrh, pine, sage

Plants: acorns, apples, corn, grain, grapes, gourds, nuts, pinecones, pomegranates, pumpkins, wheat

Symbols: cornucopia, double spiral, scales, scythe, sun wheel

Magickal Energies: acknowledge hard work, agriculture, balance, bounty, completion, crone, harvest, reflection

•Samhain

Northern Hemisphere: October 31

Southern Hemisphere: May 1

Midpoint between Autumn Equinox and Winter Solstice

Harvest Festival • Death

Animals: bats, cats, spiders, owls

Beverages: cider, mead, mulled wine

Colors: black, green, gray, orange, purple, white

Gods: Anubis, Cernunnos, Odin, Osiris, Mercury

Goddesses: Baba Yaga, Hecate, Demeter, Pomona, Hel, Ishtar, Isis, Lilith, Morrigan, Persephone, Rihannon

Foods: allspice, apples, cinnamon, corn, gourds, meats, pumpkins, root vegetables, rosemary, sage, turnips

Gemstones: apache tears, carnelian, smokey quartz, onyx, obsidian

Incense: copal, rosemary, sandalwood, sweetgrass

Plants: calendula, gourds, grains, mugwort, oak leaf, pumpkins, rue, wormwood

Symbols: ancestor photos, bat, black cat, broomstick, cauldron, coffin, crossroads, faeries, ghosts, ghoul, jack-o-lantern, mirror, pumpkin, skeleton, mirror, skull

Magickal Energies: ancestors, astral travel, changes, chaos, courage, crossroads, darkness, death, divination, harvest, honoring the deceased, life changes, memorials, mortality, scrying, séance, shadows, souls, spirit contact, transformation, transitions

•Yule

Northern Hemisphere: held between December 20-22)

Southern Hemisphere: held between June 20-22)

Winter Solstice • Longest Night

Solar Festival • Rebirth

Animals: goats, pigs

Beverages: mead, mulled cider, mulled wine, wassail

Colors: green, gold, white, red, silver

Gods: Bacchus, Dionysus, Holly King, Oak King, Jesus, Mithras, Odin, Ra, Saturn, Thor, Sol, Apollo, Baldur, Cronus

Goddesses: Ceres, Frigga, La Befana, Ishtar, Skadi, Lachesis, Brigid

Foods: cookies, fruits, pork

Gemstones: bloodstone, orange calcite, citrine, diamond, garnet, ruby

Incense: bayberry, cedar, cinnamon, clove, frankincense, myrrh, pine, sandalwood, spruce

Plants: balsam, evergreens, fir, holly, ivy, mistletoe, oak, pine, pine cones, poinsettias*

Symbols: bonfires, candles, caroling, coal, evergreens, fire, garlands, gifts, lights, mistletoe, ornaments, poinsettias*, reindeer, sleigh, stars, stockings, Sun Wheel, trees, wreaths, Yule Log

Magickal Energies: beginnings, birth, daylight, death, divination, feasting, fertility, good health, good luck, growth, life, life cycle, light, luck, miracles, rebirth, resurrection, return, sacrifice

*The name “poinsettia” is the colonized name of the plant cuetlaxochitl, a plant native to Mexico that has roots in Aztec culture. It was introduced to the United States in the 1820s by Joel Roberts Poinsett, who was a U.S. ambassador to Mexico at the time.