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solonglivesthis · 5 years ago

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The Treasures of the Gods

This beautiful Fan Art made by Mizzcoffeebot represents one of my favorite stories in the Norse mythology: The story of how Loki got Thor his hammer Mjöllnir (among other treasures like Odin’s spear Gungnir) after having cut Sif’s hair.

And how he got repaid by having his lips sewn afterwards... This story has been told in many ways, but my favorite version is the one Neil Gaiman offered us: (I can not recommand you enough to buy the book, it is pure GOLD) (Text By Neil Gaiman) Here you go or the magnificent story of: The Treasures of the Gods

Thor’s wife was the beautiful Sif. She was of the Aesir. Thor loved her for herself, and for her blue eyes and her pale skin, her red lips and her smile, and he loved her long, long hair, the color of a field of barley at the end of summer. Thor woke, and stared at sleeping Sif. He scratched his beard. Then he tapped his wife with a huge hand. “What happened to you?” he asked. She opened her eyes, the color of the summer sky. “What are you talking about?” she asked, and then she moved her head and looked puzzled. Her fingers reached up to her bare pink scalp and touched it, exploring it tentatively. She looked at Thor, horrified. “My hair,” was all she said. Thor nodded. “It’s gone,” he said. “He has left you bald.” “He?” asked Sif. Thor said nothing. He strapped on his belt of power, Megingjord, which doubled his enormous strength. “Loki,” he said. “Loki has done this.” “Why do you say that?” said Sif, touching her bald head frantically, as if the fluttering touch of her fingers would make her hair return. “Because,” said Thor, “when something goes wrong, the first thing I always think is, it is Loki’s fault. It saves a lot of time.”

Thor found Loki’s door locked, so he pushed through it, leaving it in pieces. He picked Loki up and said only, “Why?”

“Why what?” Loki’s face was the picture of perfect innocence. “Sif’s hair. My wife’s golden hair. It was so beautiful. Why did you cut it off?” A hundred expressions chased each other across Loki’s face: cunning and shiftiness, truculence and confusion. Thor shook Loki hard. Loki looked down and did his best to appear ashamed. “It was funny. I was drunk.” Thor’s brow lowered. “Sif’s hair was her glory. People will think that her head was shaved for punishment. That she did something she should not have done, did it with someone she should not have.” “Well, yes. There is that,” said Loki. “They will probably think that. And unfortunately, given that I took her hair from the roots, she will go through the rest of her life completely bald . . .” “No, she won’t.” Thor looked up at Loki, whom he was now holding far above his head, with a face like thunder. “I am afraid she will. But there are always hats and scarves . . .” “She won’t go through life bald,” said Thor. “Because, Loki Laufey’s son, if you do not put her hair back right now, I am going to break every single bone in your body. Each and every one of them. And if her hair does not grow properly, I will come back and break every bone in your body again. And again. If I do it every day, I’ll soon get really good at it,” he carried on, sounding slightly more cheerful. “No!” said Loki. “I can’t put her hair back. It doesn’t work like that.” “Today,” mused Thor, “it will probably take me about an hour to break every bone in your body. But I bet that with practice I could get it down to about fifteen minutes. It will be interesting to find out.” He started to break his first bone. “Dwarfs!” shrieked Loki. “Pardon?” “Dwarfs! They can make anything. They could make golden hair for Sif, hair that would bond with her scalp and grow normally, perfect golden hair. They could do it. I swear they could.” “Then,” said Thor, “you had better go and talk to them.” And he dropped Loki from high above his head onto the floor. Loki clambered to his feet and hurried away before Thor could break any more bones. He put on his shoes that let him travel through the sky, and he went to Svartalfheim, where the dwarfs have their workshops. The most ingenious craftsmen of them all, he decided, were the three dwarfs known as the sons of Ivaldi. Loki went to their underground forge. “Hello, sons of Ivaldi. I have asked around, and people here tell me that Brokk and Eitri, his brother, are the greatest dwarf craftsmen there are or have ever been,” said Loki. “No,” said one of the sons of Ivaldi. “It’s us. We are the greatest craftsmen there are.” “I am assured that Brokk and Eitri can make treasures as good as those you can.” “Lies!” said the tallest of the sons of Ivaldi. “I wouldn’t trust those fumble-fingered incompetents to shoe a horse.” The smallest and the wisest of the sons of Ivaldi simply shrugged. “Whatever they make, we could do better.” “I hear that they’ve challenged you,” said Loki. “Three treasures. The gods of the Aesir will judge who made the best treasure. Oh, and by the way, one of the treasures you make needs to be hair. Ever-growing perfect golden hair.” “We can do that,” said one of the sons of Ivaldi. Even Loki could barely tell them apart. Loki went across the mountain to see the dwarf called Brokk, at the workshop he shared with his brother, Eitri. “Ivaldi’s sons are making three treasures as gifts for the gods of Asgard,” said Loki. “The gods are going to judge the treasures. Ivaldi’s sons want me to tell you that they are certain you and your brother Eitri can’t make anything as good as they can. They called you ‘fumble-fingered incompetents.’” Brokk was no fool. “This smells extremely fishy to me, Loki,” he said. “Are you sure this isn’t your doing? Stirring up trouble between Eitri and me and Ivaldi’s boys seems like the sort of thing you’d do.” Loki looked as guileless as he could, which was amazingly guileless. “Nothing to do with me,” he said innocently. “I just thought you ought to know.” “And you have no personal stake in this?” asked Brokk. “None whatsoever.” Brokk nodded and looked up at Loki. Brokk’s brother, Eitri, was the great craftsman, but Brokk was the smarter of the two, and the more determined. “Well, then we’ll be happy to take on the sons of Ivaldi in a test of skill, to be judged by the gods. Because I have no doubt that Eitri can forge better and craftier things than Ivaldi’s lot. But let’s make this personal, Loki. Eh?” “What do you have in mind?” asked Loki. “Your head,” said Brokk. “If we win this contest, we get your head, Loki. There’s lots of things going on in that head of yours, and I have no doubt that Eitri could make a wonderful device out of it. A thinking machine, perhaps. Or an inkwell.” Loki kept smiling, but he scowled on the inside. The day had started out so well. Still, he simply had to ensure that Eitri and Brokk lost the contest; the gods would still get six wonderful things from the dwarfs, and Sif would get her golden hair. He could do that. He was Loki. “Of course,” he said. “My head. No problem.” Across the mountain, the sons of Ivaldi were making their treasures. Loki was not worried about them. But he needed to make sure that Brokk and Eitri did not, could not possibly, win. Brokk and Eitri entered the forge. It was dark in there, lit by the orange glow of burning charcoal. Eitri took a pigskin from a shelf and placed it into the forge. “I’ve been keeping this pigskin for something like this,” he said. Brokk just nodded. “Right,” said Eitri. “You work the bellows, Brokk. Just keep pumping them. I need this hot, and I need it consistently hot, otherwise it won’t work. Pump. Pump.” Brokk began to pump the bellows, sending a stream of oxygen-rich air into the heart of the forge, heating everything up. He had done it many times before. Eitri watched until he was satisfied that it would all be to his liking. Eitri left to work on his creation outside the forge. As he opened the door to go out, a large black insect flew in. It was not a horsefly and it was not a deerfly; it was bigger than either. It flew in and circled the room in a malicious way. Brokk could hear the sound of Eitri’s hammers outside the forge, and the sounds of filing and twisting, of shaping and banging. The large black fly—it was the biggest, blackest fly you have ever seen— landed on the back of Brokk’s hand. Both of Brokk’s hands were on the bellows. He did not stop pumping to swat at the fly. The fly bit Brokk, hard, on the back of the hand. Brokk kept pumping. The door opened, and Eitri came in and carefully pulled the work from the forge. It appeared to be a huge boar, with bristles of gleaming gold. “Good work,” said Eitri. “A fraction of a degree warmer or cooler and the whole thing would have been a waste of our time.” “Good work you too,” said Brokk. The black fly, up on the corner of the ceiling, seethed with resentment and irritation. Eitri took a block of gold and placed it on the forge. “Right,” he said. “This next one will impress them. When I call, start pumping the bellows, and whatever happens do not slow down, or speed up, or stop. There’s fiddly work involved.” “Got it,” said Brokk. Eitri left the room and began to work. Brokk waited until he heard Eitri’s call, and he started to pump the bellows. The black fly circled the room thoughtfully, then landed on Brokk’s neck. The insect stepped aside daintily to avoid a rivulet of sweat, for the air was hot and close in the forge. It bit Brokk’s neck as hard as it could. Scarlet blood joined the sweat on Brokk’s neck, but the dwarf did not stop pumping. Eitri returned. He removed a white-hot arm-ring from the forge. He dropped it into the stone cooling pool in the forge to quench it. There was a cloud of steam as the arm-ring fell into the water. The ring cooled, moving rapidly to orange, to red hot, and then, as it cooled, to gold. “It’s called Draupnir,” said Eitri. “The dripper? That’s a funny name for a ring,” said Brokk. “Not for this one,” said Eitri, and he explained to Brokk what was so very special about the arm-ring. “Now,” said Eitri, “there’s something I’ve had in mind to make for a very long time now. My masterwork. But it’s even trickier than the other two. So what you have to do is—” “Pump, and don’t stop pumping?” said Brokk. “That’s right,” said Eitri. “Even more than before. Do not change your pace, or the whole thing will be ruined.” Eitri picked up an ingot of pig iron, bigger than any ingot that the black fly (who was Loki) had ever seen before, and he hefted it into the forge. He left the room and called out to Brokk to begin pumping. Brokk began to pump, and the sound of Eitri’s hammers began as Eitri pulled and shaped and welded and joined. Loki, in fly shape, decided that there was no more time for subtlety. Eitri’s masterpiece would be something that would impress the gods, and if the gods were impressed enough, then he would lose his head. Loki landed between Brokk’s eyes and started to bite the dwarf’s eyelids. The dwarf continued to pump, his eyes stinging. Loki bit deeper, harder, more desperately. Now blood ran from the dwarf’s eyelids, into his eyes and down his face, blinding him. Brokk squinted and shook his head, trying to dislodge the fly. He jerked his head from side to side. He contorted his mouth and tried blowing air up at the fly. It was no good. The fly continued to bite, and the dwarf could see nothing but blood. A sharp pain filled his head. Brokk counted, and at the bottom of the downstroke he whipped one hand from the bellows and swiped at the fly, with such speed and such strength that Loki barely escaped with his life. Brokk grabbed the bellows once again and continued to pump. “Enough!” called Eitri. The black fly flew unsteadily about the room. Eitri opened the door, allowing the fly to escape. Eitri looked at his brother with disappointment. Brokk’s face was a mess of blood and sweat. “I don’t know what you were playing at that time,” said Eitri. “But you came close to ruining everything. The temperature was all over the place at the end. As it is, it’s nowhere near as impressive as I’d hoped. We’ll just have to see.” Loki, in Loki shape, strolled in through the open door. “So, all ready for the contest?” he asked. “Brokk can go to Asgard and present my gifts to the gods and cut off your head,” said Eitri. “I like it best here at my forge, making things.” Brokk stared at Loki through swollen eyelids. “I’m looking forward to cutting off your head,” said Brokk. “It got personal.”

In Asgard, three gods sat on their thrones: one-eyed Odin the all-father, redbearded Thor of the thunders, and handsome Frey of the summer’s harvest. They would be the judges. Loki stood before them, beside the three almost identical sons of Ivaldi. Brokk, black-bearded and brooding, was there alone, standing to one side, the things he had brought hidden beneath sheets. “So,” said Odin. “What are we judging?” “Treasures,” said Loki. “The sons of Ivaldi have made gifts for you, great Odin, and for Thor, and for Frey, and so have Eitri and Brokk. It is up to you to decide which of the six things is the finest treasure. I myself will show you the gifts made by the sons of Ivaldi.” He presented Odin with the spear called Gungnir. It was a beautiful spear, carved with intricate runes. “It will penetrate anything, and when you throw it, it will always find its mark,” said Loki. Odin had but one eye, after all, and sometimes his aim could be less than perfect. “And, just as important, an oath taken on this spear is unbreakable.” Odin hefted the spear. “It is very fine,” was all he said. “And here,” said Loki proudly, “is a flowing head of golden hair. Made of real gold. It will attach itself to the head of the person who needs it and grow and behave in every way as if it were real hair. A hundred thousand strands of gold.” “I will test it,” said Thor. “Sif, come here.” Sif rose and came to the front, her head covered. She removed her headscarf. The gods gasped when they saw Sif’s naked head, bald and pink, and then she carefully placed the dwarfs’ golden wig on her head and shook her hair. They watched as the base of the wig joined itself to her scalp, and then Sif stood in front of them even more radiant and beautiful than before. “Impressive,” said Thor. “Good job!” Sif tossed her golden hair and walked out of the hall into the sunlight, to show her new hair to her friends. The last of the sons of Ivaldi’s remarkable gifts was small, and folded like cloth. This cloth Loki placed in front of Frey. “What is it? It looks like a silk scarf,” said Frey, unimpressed. “It does,” said Loki. “But if you unfold it, you will discover it is a ship, called Skidbladnir. It will always have a fair wind, wherever it goes. And although it is huge, the biggest ship you can imagine, it will fold up, as you see, like a cloth, so you can put it into your pouch.” Frey was impressed, and Loki was relieved. They were three excellent gifts. Now it was Brokk’s turn. His eyelids were red and swollen, and there was a huge insect bite on the side of his neck. Loki thought Brokk looked entirely too cocky, especially given the remarkable things Ivaldi’s sons had made. Brokk took the golden arm-ring and placed it in front of Odin on his high throne. “This arm-ring is called Draupnir,” said Brokk. “Because every ninth night, eight gold arm-rings of equal beauty will drip from it. You can reward people with them, or store them, and your wealth will increase.” Odin examined the arm-ring, then pushed it onto his arm, up high on his biceps. It gleamed there. “It is very fine,” he said. Loki recalled that Odin had said the same thing about the spear. Brokk walked over to Frey. He raised a cloth and revealed a huge boar with bristles made of gold. “This is a boar my brother made for you, to pull your chariot,” said Brokk. “It will race across the sky and over the sea, faster than the fastest horse. There will never be a night so dark that its golden bristles will not give light and let you see what you are doing. It will never tire, and will never fail you. It is called Gullenbursti, the golden-bristled one.” Frey looked impressed. Still, thought Loki, the magical ship that folded up like a cloth was every bit as impressive as an unstoppable boar that shone in the dark. Loki’s head was quite safe. And the last gift Brokk had to present was the one that Loki knew he had already managed to sabotage. From beneath the cloth Brokk produced a hammer, and placed it in front of Thor. Thor looked at it and sniffed. “The handle is rather short,” he said. Brokk nodded. “Yes,” he said. “That’s my fault. I was working the bellows. But before you dismiss it, let me tell you about what makes this hammer unique. It’s called Mjollnir, the lightning-maker. First of all, it’s unbreakable—doesn’t matter how hard you hit something with it, the hammer will always be undamaged.” Thor looked interested. He had already broken a great many weapons over the years, normally by hitting things with them. “If you throw the hammer, it will never miss what you throw it at.” Thor looked even more interested. He had lost a number of otherwise excellent weapons by throwing them at things that irritated him and missing, and he had watched too many weapons he had thrown disappear into the distance, never to be seen again. “No matter how hard or how far you throw it, it will always return to your hand.” Thor was now actually smiling. And the thunder god did not often smile. “You can change the size of the hammer. It will grow, and it will also shrink down so small that if you wish, you can hide it inside your shirt.” Thor clapped his hands together in delight, and thunder echoed across Asgard. “And yet, as you have observed,” concluded Brokk sadly, “the handle of the hammer is indeed too short. This is my fault. I failed to keep the bellows blowing while my brother, Eitri, was forging it.” “The shortness of the handle is a minor, cosmetic problem,” said Thor. “This hammer will protect us from the frost giants. This is the finest gift I have ever seen.” “It will protect Asgard. It will protect all of us,” said Odin with approval. “If I were a giant, I would be very afraid of Thor if he had that hammer,” said Frey. “Yes. It’s an excellent hammer. But Thor, what about the hair? Sif’s beautiful new golden hair!” asked Loki slightly desperately. “What? Oh, yes. My wife has very nice hair,” said Thor. “Now. Show me how to make the hammer grow and shrink, Brokk.” “Thor’s hammer is better even than my wonderful spear and my excellent arm-ring,” said Odin, nodding. “The hammer is greater and more impressive than my ship and my boar,” admitted Frey. “It will keep the gods of Asgard safe.” The gods clapped Brokk on the back and told him that he and Eitri had made the finest gift that they had ever been given. “Good to know,” said Brokk. He turned to Loki. “So,” said Brokk. “I get to cut off your head, Laufey’s son, and take it back with me. Eitri will be so pleased. We can turn it into something useful.” “I . . . will ransom my head,” said Loki. “I have treasures I can give you.” “Eitri and I already have all the treasure we need,” said Brokk. “We make treasures. No, Loki. I want your head.” Loki thought for a moment, then said, “Then you can have it. If you can catch me.” And Loki leapt high into the air and ran off, far above their heads. In moments he was gone. Brokk looked at Thor. “Can you catch him?” Thor shrugged. “I really shouldn’t,” he said. “But then, I would very much like to try out the hammer.” In moments Thor returned, holding Loki tightly. Loki was glaring with impotent fury. The dwarf Brokk took out his knife. “Come here, Loki,” he said. “I’m going to cut off your head.” “Of course,” said Loki. “You can, of course, cut off my head. But—and I appeal to mighty Odin here—if you cut off any of my neck, you are violating the terms of our agreement, which promised you my head, and my head only.” Odin inclined his head. “Loki is right,” he said. “You have no right to cut his neck.” Brokk was irritated. “But I can’t cut off his head without cutting his neck,” he said. Loki looked pleased with himself. “You see,” he said, “if people thought through the exactness of their words, they would not dare to take on Loki, the wisest, the cleverest, the trickiest, the most intelligent, the best-looking . . .” Brokk whispered a suggestion to Odin. “That would be fair,” agreed Odin. Brokk produced a strip of leather and a knife. He wrapped the leather around Loki’s mouth. Brokk tried to pierce the leather with the tip of the knifeblade. “It’s not working,” said Brokk. “My knife isn’t cutting you.” “I might have wisely arranged for protection from knifeblades,” said Loki modestly. “Just in case the whole you-can’t-cut-my-neck ploy did not work. I am afraid no knifeblade can cut me!” Brokk grunted and produced an awl, a pointed spike used in leatherwork, and he jabbed it through the leather, punching holes through Loki’s lips. Then he took a strong thread and he sewed Loki’s lips together with it. Brokk walked away, leaving Loki with his mouth sewn up tight, unable to complain. For Loki, the pain of being unable to talk hurt even more than the pain of having his lips stitched into the leather. So now you know: that is how the gods got their greatest treasures. It was Loki’s fault. Even Thor’s hammer was Loki’s fault. That was the thing about Loki. You resented him even when you were at your most grateful, and you were grateful to him even when you hated him the most.

#source : deviant art #loki #norse mythology #neil gaiman #treasures of the gods #fan art #drawing #lips sewn #thor #mjollnir #odin #odin is a shitty father #Fanart #loki the god of mischief

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fadingcoast · 6 years ago

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Death Of The Lie || Chapter 19: Sabotage

AUTHORS: @fandom-and-feminism & @fadingcoast

Summary: Odin and his daughter Hela are the perfect conquerors of the universe. The nine realms fall one after the other into their clutch. After Odin takes a second wife and has a son with her, he doesn’t need Hela anymore. Hela abandons her father and ends up marrying Laufey, a sworn enemy of the Aesir people. Not long after, she becomes pregnant with Laufey’s child. Odin cannot let that son be born, but against all odds, the boy survives. Odin is forced to bring him back to Asgard to be raised as his own until he could make further use of him. The half-Jotun-half-Aesir boy grows up to look and act a lot like his mother, which disturbs Odin, and makes him treat the boy horribly. Odin’s lies are deep and complex, but one day the boy will find out the truth about everything he is.

PAIRING: None RATING: Teen

MASTERLIST

Feedback is always appreciated and reblogs are encouraged!!

Chapter 19: Sabotage

The day had finally come. Nobles gathered in the throne room, a grand feast had been prepared, and the entire castle polished down to every last mural on the ceiling until it gleamed in the light. It was time for Thor to take his place as King. But the Allfather could not shake the uncertainty in his bones.

Odin stood at his balcony and watched as more people were escorted into the castle. His thoughts turned to his elder son yet again.

“Do you think he’s ready?”

Frigga looked at Odin’s reflection in her mirror. He was weary, and tired. There was no time to test Thor’s readiness for the crown, this much they both knew. She shook her head.

“Does it matter? He thinks he is.” The Queen went back to adjusting pieces of jewelry in her hair and offered her husband a smile. “He certainly has his father’s confidence.”

“He’ll need more than that,” Odin said, walking heavily to his armchair. “He is but a boy still.”

“He won’t be alone,” Frigga assured him. “Loki will be at his side to give him counsel.” Odin interrupted with a growl and she gave him a hard look. “Loki is much more capable than you give him credit for. He has proven that much since he came home from Alfheim.”

Whatever Odin was going to say was stopped by the slight shaking of his hand. A reminder that his time was short, his strength fleeting. All fight in him drained and his shoulders slumped. When he spoke it was barely above a whisper.

“If we only had more time.”

“For once, our sons need something we cannot provide.” Frigga walked close to the King and stroked his cheek. “You’ve put it off too long. It’s time.”

With a dejected sigh, Odin had no other choice but to agree. The kingdom would have to do with the King he was giving them. He could only hope that the mantle of King and Allfather would give Thor no choice but to grow up.

Still quite annoyed about being snubbed by Thor so he could make his own grand entrance, Loki was only half paying attention to what was going on in the throne room when the sound of a horn rang out, announcing Odin’s arrival and the beginning of the ceremony. Frigga joined Loki at his side and greeted him with a warm smile tinged with anxiety that prompted him to look out among the crowd for his brother. Thor was nowhere to be seen, of course.

Since Loki was standing just to the right of the throne, Odin’s gaze bore down onto him as though Loki were expected to produce Thor out of thin air. He swallowed thickly and shrugged his shoulders. He and Thor had rehearsed the ceremony just the previous day, with the two of them coming in together, so Odin was clearly less than pleased at this sudden change in plans. Slowly the crowd began to mutter to each other in hushed whispers, the scandal of the prince being late to his own coronation too much to keep silent about.

Volstagg, who stood at the bottom of the throne steps with Fandral, Hogun, and Sif, took the few steps up to where Loki was standing and leaned in, facing away from the crowd. “Where is he?” he snapped.

Loki frowned at Volstagg’s insolent tone. “He said he’d be along.” Sif clearly heard him and rolled her eyes.

“If he doesn’t show up soon, he shouldn’t bother,” Fandral said. “Odin looks like he’s ready to feed him to his ravens.”

Loki was no fool; he knew Fandral had been right in his observation but he knew just as well that Thor would not be punished, regardless of how long he made everyone wait. “I wouldn’t worry,” he assured Thor’s friends with barely concealed contempt. “Father will forgive him. He always does.”

As if on cue, a strong gust of air burst through the front doors to the throne room and Mjolnir came flying through the divide in the crowd, Thor close behind it. He spun around and caught the hammer behind his back and earned himself a deafening round of applause. Loki clenched his jaw to keep from commenting on this garish display - it was no less than he expected from his brother, getting everyone all worked up and worried about him only to make a scene and show off his strength. The day was already about him, but to Thor it must not have been enough.

Even more infuriating was that all anger had faded from Odin’s expression. Thor approached the throne and knelt before it, and even the Queen was not immune to the wink and smile he gave her by way of an apology.

Some King, Loki thought, his mind wandering as soon as Odin silenced the room with the sound of his spear hitting the ground. Do what you want now, charm your way out of it later.

“Gungnir,” Odin’s voice boomed across the throne room, commanding everyone’s attention. It was time for the ceremony to start. “Its aim is true, its power strong. With it I have defended Asgard and the lives of the innocent…”

If only Gungnir’s wielder was half as innocent as the people it protects, Loki thought. The blood on the hands of each King impregnates its very core.

“…Thor Odinson, my heir. My firstborn.” The sentiment in Odin’s voice made Loki clench his fists.

Firstborn. First trained. First loved. First spoiled. Look at this golden-haired fool, thinking he can rule the nine realms with his muscles and a smile. He wouldn’t last a day.

“...Only one may lift it. Only one is worthy. Who wields this hammer commands the lightning and the storm…”

Worthy. Who even knows what that means anymore? If Thor is worthy of the throne, I’ll eat my helmet.

“I have sacrificed much to achieve peace,” Odin proclaimed, staring down at Thor with a much more serious expression. “So, too, must a new generation sacrifice to maintain the peace. Responsibility. Duty. Honor. These are not merely virtues to which we must aspire. They are essential to every soldier, and to every king.”

That disqualifies this arrogant oaf, Loki mused to himself. Odin’s speech was nearing its end, so he extended his senses to the weapons vault below the throne room so he would know when it was time to act. They’ll thank me when their King ascends in a time when he is mature enough to handle the position. They’ll all thank me.

There was a slight shift in the air, a chill growing in the hall, and Loki felt it even before the crowd itself started to shiver and rub their limbs for warmth. But no one paid any more attention to it. Thor was looking at his father’s proud face with a smile.

Odin began the oaths, his grasp on the spear so tightly that his hand shook. “Thor Odinson, do you swear to guard the Nine Realms?”

If it were possible, the smile on Thor’s face grew wider. “I swear.

“Do you swear to preserve the peace?"

“I swear.”

“Do you swear to cast aside all selfish ambition and pledge yourself only to the good of all the Realms?

“I swear!"

“Then on this day, I, Odin Allfather, proclaim you…”

The king stopped his speech, finally noticing the frost floating in the air, making the banners glisten in the light with small drops of frozen dew. Odin cast a wary look at Frigga, and then at Loki, but he looked as confused as everyone else.

No, Odin realized - this wasn’t Loki’s doing. This was more powerful, angrier, yet still familiar…

“Frost giants…” Odin muttered, rising to his feet. A powerful shockwave emanated from the base of his spear as he pounded it on the floor a single time - a command to unleash the Destroyer from his prison and take out the intruders.

The far-off sounds of a struggle echoed in the depths of the palace. Thor, gripping his hammer, raced down the corridor, and he tracked the sound right to the vaults. Loki followed close behind, melting ice and the burnt bodies of two frost giants lying on the floor greeting them when they arrived. The two guards who had been tasked with protecting the vault lay dead at their feet. On the far end stood the Destroyer, with the Casket of Ancient Winters in its massive metal hands. Odin stepped in as the Destroyer set the Casket back on its pedestal and moved to the back wall, which seemed to swallow him as it deactivated.

Loki stared around the room, surveying the destruction, the tension growing palpable. He could practically feel the heat of anger rolling off of Thor in waves, and the air was thick with a strange type of magic that was making him feel uneasy.

Finally Thor broke the silence, his hand squeezing the handle of his hammer until his knuckles turned white. “The Jotuns must pay for what they’ve done!”

Odin remained calm and shook his head. “They have paid with their lives. The Destroyer did its job, and the Casket is safe. All is well.”

“All is well?!” Thor looked at his father in disbelief, then at Loki as if asking for backup. “They broke into the weapons vault! If the Frost Giants had stolen even one of these relics--"

“But they didn’t."

“I want to know why they--” Thor insisted, but Odin promptly cut him off.

“The Casket of Ancient Winters belonged to the Jotuns. They believe it’s their birthright.”

Growing ever angrier by the second, Thor raised his voice, clearly frustrated that Odin didn’t feed into his desire for violence. Loki suspected any minute now his brother would throw the hammer into a wall. He knew better than to get in the middle of an argument between the two of them so he resolved to remain silent.

“And if you hadn’t taken it from them they would have laid waste to all the Nine Realms!”

“I have a truce with Laufey, the Jotun King.” Odin’s resolve to maintain peace was steadfast, and Loki wondered how far Thor would push against it before giving in.

Thor pointed to the Casket with disdain. “He just broke your truce! We must act!"

“And what action would you take?” Odin asked Thor, eyeing him up and down. This was a test; Loki could read that in his one eye.

Thor, however, didn’t take the hint.

“I would march into Jotunheim as you once did, teach them a lesson, break their spirits so they’ll never dare try to cross our borders again!”

It was clear to Loki at this point that Thor had lost the argument. Odin accused Thor of single-mindedness, thinking only as a warrior, while Thor insisted the intrusion was, in fact, an act of war worthy of retaliation, and if the Jotuns got in one time they could get in again. But no matter how much Loki silently projected to Thor to shut up, he wouldn’t.

“As King of Asgard, I would--”

“You are not King!” Odin shouted, his voice loud enough to echo across the vault. “Not yet.”

At a loss for words, Thor turned away and stomped out of the Vault, the doors slamming hard behind him.

Thor’s tantrum continued upstairs, in the banquet hall, after the guests were long gone. Loki had followed him to try to placate him, to no avail. He had tried to avoid provoking his brother even further but Thor decided to upend one of the long tables - covered end to end with an astounding array of food and dinnerware - and shout out his anger with a roar. The noise attracted the Warriors and they ran inside to see what caused the calamity, only to find Thor standing in the middle of the room with food strewn everywhere, panting like a dog. Volstagg immediately began mourning for all the wasted food, shoveling what he could into his arms to eat.

Unimpressed, Sif put her hands on her hips. “Redecorating, are we?” she teased, one eyebrow raised. Thor cast her an indignant glance and strode over to the steps leading up to the balcony, taking a seat with a huff. Loki knew the wheels were turning in his brother’s head, and when Thor got a thirst for vengeance it was hard to put the brakes on his focus. He joined Thor on the steps and sat next to him as quietly as he could, waiting for him to talk. It took only a moment for Thor to cut his eyes at him and sigh angrily.

“It’s unwise to be in my company right now, brother."

Loki half-smiled and folded his hands in his lap. “Who said I was wise?”

Thor deflated, but the fire in his demeanor remained. His fists clenched, nostrils flared, foot tapping against the stairs. “This was to be my day of triumph,” he said quietly, but no less bitter.

Choosing his words carefully, Loki shook his head and tried to insert an air of authority into his voice without provoking Thor even further. “There’s nothing we can do without defying Father,” he said with finality, hoping Thor would take the hint.

Thor sighed, and for a moment he seemed to accept that Loki was right. But Loki watched with horror as he read resignation, defiance, and finally glee in Thor’s expression as he rose to his feet. Rebellion wasn’t in the plan, and quickly Loki tried to stop it before it started.

“No… stop there! I know that look!”

Thor smiled, as though he meant to charm his way into yet another ridiculous plan. “It’s the only way to ensure the safety of our borders.”

“It’s madness!”

Loki’s shouting caught the attention of the Warriors, and Fandral spoke up. “Madness? What sort of madness?”

If Thor’s friends got involved, there would be no convincing him to stay. Desperate to keep the situation contained Loki tried to speak over his brother. “Nothing! Thor was making a jest!”

Thor stepped in front of Loki to silence him. “The safety of our Realm is no jest,” he insisted. “We’re going to Jotunheim.”

This is getting too far out of hand, Loki thought, searching his brain for a new plan. If he’s going, I can’t stop him, but I’ll have to do damage control. As always. Thor looked around the room with a bright smile, and Loki knew exactly what his brother was thinking. A few well spoken phrases, a tiny amount of sucking up, and Thor had his friends in the palm of his hand, as usual. And they call me the silvertongue. Loyalty comes not without a tiny amount of stupidity it seems.

“My friends, trust me now. We must do this,” Thor finished his case. “Come on. You’re not going to let my brother and me take all the glory, are you?”

“What?!” Loki tried to looked startled. He knew this was probably coming - Thor would never take blame for something like this on his own.

“You are coming with me, right?"

In a split second, Loki had to make up his mind. He returned Thor’s smile with as much authenticity as he could. “Yes, of course! I won’t let my brother march into Jotunheim alone. I will be at his side.”

The Warriors Three voiced their agreeing. Sif took a little longer to answer.

“I fear we’ll live to regret this,” she said solemnly.

As Loki had predicted - and warned Thor and the Warriors - Heimdall was not fooled for a moment by anything any of them said, but still Thor convinced him to open the Bifrost for the five of them to travel to Jotunheim. The Gatekeeper let them pass, but not without a warning; if bringing them back to Asgard threatened the safety of the realm, there they would stay, and there they would die.

All Loki could think about as they stepped into the portal to Jotunheim was the guard he had sent, using an illusion of himself while Thor and the Warriors weren’t watching him, to alert Odin of their excursion. His original plan to simply delay the coronation had been derailed to a point where he wasn’t sure how to get it back on track, or if he could. If they weren’t intercepted in time, if Thor discovered who had let the Jotuns in, all would be lost.

The Bifrost burned and melted the ice on its landing spot, baring the black rock of Jotunheim’s foundations. But the snow and the wind covered it back up in mere seconds as the Bifrost vanished and the group were left on their own.

The realm seemed to be a massive platform of ice that reached as far as the eye could see. Deep crevices and canyons showed the thickness of the glaciers and the black rock it covered. Nothing grew here, not even the sturdy shrubs Loki had seen near the tops of some mountains, not even the lichen that usually clung to permafrost. It was as if Jotunheim repelled the very idea of life aside from the Frost Giants, the only creatures able to endure the cold.

Drawing his comfortable leather coat a bit higher up his neck, Loki realized that he was adjusting much faster than his traveling companions to the endless winter this realm was known for. Thor and the Warriors were shivering violently within seconds, particularly Sif, whose skirt did nothing to protect her from the biting cold and wind.

“We shouldn’t be here.” Hogun stated the obvious, his voice shaking from the chill, and Loki rolled his eyes.

“Too late now,” Thor growled, and started to walk. “We have to move or we will freeze. Let’s go.”

The ice spires of a ruined city, the only signs of life, were clear in the horizon, and Thor was already making his way there. Reluctantly the Warriors started behind him, tightening their robes and furs around themselves to keep the biting cold from affecting them. Loki followed close behind Thor, his every instinct screaming at him that something was wrong. He noticed the shadows moving around the icy structures that, upon closer inspection, looked like the remains of what was once a castle. He wanted to think it was the light playing tricks on him, but he knew better: those shadows were soldiers. They were being watched.

A Jotun sentry, impossibly tall and twice as broad as Thor, stepped out from the darkness and approached them. Thor and the Warriors immediately reached for their weapons as they waited for the Frost Giant to speak.

“What is your business here, Asgardians?” The sentry’s voice shook the ice beneath their feet but they stood their ground.

“I would speak only to your King. Not to his foot soldiers,” Thor spat with contempt.

“Then speak,” another voice spoke from high up on a throne of ice. Deep and cold, it seemed to reverberate in the icy structures around them. Loki could swear it even calmed the storm. “I am Laufey, King of this Realm.”

“And I am--”

“We know who you are, Odinson. Why have you brought the stench of your blood into my kingdom?”

“I demand answers.” Thor stated simply, not in the mood to mince words. “How did your people get into Asgard?”

The corner of Laufey’s mouth pulled up in what could be called a smile. “The house of Odin is full of traitors,” he said cryptically. There was a veiled pleasure in the way the words dragged. Loki’s stomach clenched but he allowed no fear to change his expression,

Thor gripped his hammer and brought it closer to his body in warning. “Do not dishonor my father’s name with your lies.”

“Your father is a murderer and a thief,” Laufey spat. “He stole what was ours, and left our world in ruins. We have the right to reclaim the Casket.”

“Not when you’d use it to make war against other Realms."

“And why have you come here? To make peace?” Laufey’s laugh held no joy. It was freezing cold, and sent a shiver through the very bones of the intruders in front of him. “I see you for what you are, Thor Odinson. Nothing but a boy, trying to prove himself a man.”

“This boy has grown tired of your mockery.” Thor took a step towards Laufey, raising his hammer. Two Jotun sentries stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

Loki moved forward and grabbed Thor’s arm, pulling him back. If Thor attacked unprovoked, it could trigger a war. Silently he prayed to himself that their father would show up before it escalated any further. “Thor, stop and think,” he pleaded. “Look around you. We are outnumbered.”

“Know your place, brother.” Thor bit the words, snatching his arm from Loki’s grasp.

“You should listen to his counsel. You know not what your actions would unleash.” Laufey straightened on his throne, the blue light finally revealing the sharp edges of his face. “But I do. Go now, while I still allow it.

Loki gulped silently and bowed his head slightly. “We will accept your most gracious offer.”

Thor stared at Laufey for half a second that dragged like an eternity before he finally turned to leave. Loki held back his sigh of relief but he knew it wouldn’t be over even when they got home.

“Run back home, little princess,” one of Laufey’s sentinels mocked.

Thor stopped in his tracks, and Loki closed his eyes. “Damn.”

In one quick move, Thor turned around and knocked the offender, sending him across the plaza with one hard swing of his hammer. Everyone froze.

“Silly hammer!” Volstagg joked, his prominent belly jiggling with the forced laugh. “Has a mind of its own!”

But the Jotuns were not having it. Ice formed a frozen armor around their bodies, and extended off the ends of their arms like swords, their sharp edges gleaming in the blue light. Thor stepped forward and swung his hammer at another Jotun, his half smile too evident. “Next!” Thor shouted with glee.

All Hel broke loose. The frost giants attacked them in waves, demanding the Asgardians to be on top of their games. Loki had no time to worry about what everyone else was doing, and quickly summoned as many daggers as he could, throwing them at the giants closing in on him. Trying to not get cornered, he ran to the crumbling edges of the castle and summoned a few of his illusions, confusing the soldiers that were chasing him.

In the distance he could hear the battle cries of Thor and his friends, trying to fend off the attacks.

“Come on! At least make it a challenge for me!” Thor’s mocking tone could be heard in all corners of the ice palace, and Loki wished he would put Mjolnir in his mouth instead.

The battle raged on. Loki knew they had to leave the castle and head on to open ground if they wanted the slight chance for Heimdall to be able to open the Bifrost for them. The Jotnar, on the other hand, were determined not to let them leave the castle grounds. Their ice magic, Loki could see, not only worked on themselves, but on the terrain around them. Large spires and ice walls grew where the exits were, and Loki had to be quick on his feet as the giants tried to freeze him to the floor.

Hogun wasn’t as fast, and was already waist deep in ice when Sif and Vostagg reached him to help him out, not without problems. A Jotun slammed Volstagg to the ground, making the floor shake. The warrior recovered quickly, and tried to fight back as the Jotun grabbed his bare arm. The warrior watched in horror as his skin went blue and black with frostbite. He shouted in pain, and reflexively headbutted the giant, making him stumble and release his arm. But the pain didn’t relent.

“Don’t let them grab hold of you!” Volstagg shouted.

Loki ran past him, throwing him a small cordial of potion which Volstagg downed in one gulp. His arm was still smoking, but the pain dimmed down enough for him to go back to battle.

Across the opening, Fandral was preoccupied fighting a group of Jotun sentries, completely oblivious to the one stalking him from behind. Loki’s warning died in his throat, as the sentry reached down and sent a spray of ice stalagmites that impaled Fandral.

Loki raced towards Fandral, throwing daggers at the Frost Giants as he went. Fandral was nearly unconscious, and more Jotuns were closing in Loki, blocking his path. He tried to summon a mist, but it was doing little more than to obstruct his own view. Daggers flew from his hands, but even his agility wasn’t enough to keep the Jotuns at bay. One got too close, and Loki had to plunge two daggers into its chest. The giant grabbed Loki’s gloved wrist, freezing the leather piece, making it crack and fall away. Loki tried to pull away but the giant tightened his grip on his arm, the cold spreading on his skin. Loki looked at his arm, prepared for the worst. But instead of the blackness of frostbitten flesh, his arm began to turn blue, markings etched on the skin spreading upwards until his forearm and hand looked exactly like the frost giant holding on to him.

“My prince?” The Jotun muttered, as confused and thrown off as Loki himself.

Shaking out of his stupor, Loki summoned a dagger and thrust it in the giant’s neck, only then noticing its black gleam. He focused on his arm then, and watched the deep blue color fading back to his pale skin, the markings disappearing and leaving no trace.

It can’t be-

Loki shook his head. This was not the time. There was a battle around him. He could hear Thor shouting and cackling in the blizzard, drunk with bloodlust. Never mind that his companions weren’t in great shape, or that the Jotnar King decided to join the battle, summoning an enormous beast, cracking the ice with a deafening sound.

“Thor, we must go!” he shouted, hoping Thor could still hear him over the blasting winds.

“Then go!” Thor roared.

In his desperate attempt to stop Laufey’s beast, Thor was not exactly being careful about his power and strength. Each blow and each lightning cracked the ice beneath their feet, as Loki, Sif and the Warriors Three ran to open grounds. Heimdall’s warning resonated in Loki’s mind. If your return threatens the safety of Asgard, the Bifrost will remain closed to you. He looked back: there was no way to get far enough from the Jotnar to summon the Bifrost safely.

Loki briefly closed his eyes, and summoned a thick mist, trying to cover their escape. It worked, and the only thing he could see were the cracks of lightning summoned by Thor. The group made it to a small clearing, and waited. The lighting had stopped, and the mist around them seemed to dampen all sound.

“Where is he?” Sif asked.

As soon as the words had left her mouth, Thor landed beside them, staggering. He looked at his companions, as if making a head count, and then faced the mist.

“Loki, we have to see.”

Loki took a deep breath and raised his arms, concentrating to make the mist dissipate. But the sight that greeted them was not what they expected: hundreds of Jotnar were surrounding them.

“Actually, could you bring the mists back, please?” Volstagg said in a little voice.

Loki gave Volstagg a hard look before turning to Thor, realization dawning on his face that he and his friends were as good as dead. That he, the invincible Thor, wasn’t as invincible as he thought. Loki looked up to the sky as if waiting for something.

A bright light opened in the darkness, and Loki let out a small sigh of relief when he saw Odin himself mounted on Sleipnir. The Giants stopped their advance and opened a path for their own king. Laufey slammed his hands on the ground, willing the ice to lift him up so he could look into Odin’s eyes.

The two monarchs facing each other were a terrifying sight, as they were discussing the fate not only of their own worlds, but the Nine Realms as a whole.

“Laufey. End this.”

Laufey sneered at Odin with disdain. “We are beyond diplomacy now, Allfather. He’ll get what he came for -- war and death.”

Without warning, Laufey swung his ice blade at Odin, but the Allfather was already bringing Gungnir to the ground. The explosion knocked Jotuns and Asgardians alike to the ground, and Laufey ordered his soldiers to retreat.

“Now! We’ll finish them together!” Thor shouted with a smile, quickly getting on his feet and swinging his hammer.

“Silence!” Odin barked. He summoned the Bifrost and when they all came back out of the portal in the Observatory he dismissed the Warriors, sending Fandral to the Healers’ wing.

Still incensed, Thor turned his focus from his friend to his father. “Why did you bring us back!?” he demanded. In his shock Loki retreated from the inevitable argument so he wouldn’t get dragged into it. This had already gone more wrong than he could have ever predicted and he didn’t want to make it worse.

Odin rounded on Thor in disbelief. “Do you realize what you’ve done? What you’ve started?”

“I was protecting my home,” Thor insisted. “Whatever the cost, the world must know that the new King of Asgard will not be trifled with!”

“Your pride and vanity nearly cost you your friends; if you can’t protect them, how can you expect to be able to protect a kingdom?” Odin shook his head, disappointment beginning to leak into his voice. “Have you forgotten everything I’ve taught you? There is more to being King than war, boy! What of a King’s patience, his cunning, his wisdom?”

Thor had nothing to say, no biting retort, not a charming word to weasel his way out of another scrape. He could only stand there before his father, searching for the forgiveness he was convinced would come. This time he had gone too far, though, and finally Odin was seeing his eldest son for who he was. There was a charge in the air as Odin lowered his voice and cast his gaze to the gilded floor.

“I was a fool to think you were ready.”

Loki could sense Odin was about to do something rash, but he wasn’t sure what his father would do to Thor to teach him a lesson. Without much time to think, he opened his mouth to speak in Thor’s defense, but he couldn’t come up with anything to say that could possibly help and decided to keep silent. His heart was pounding, the sense of impending and inevitable retaliation making it hard to control the residual cold that was creeping up his arm. He clasped his hands behind his back and took a few more steps away from Odin, just in case.

Odin strode over to Thor with great purpose and began to tear at his metal armor, casting it to the floor as he spoke. “Thor Odinson…” he hesitated before he continued, relieving Thor of his crests, “you have disobeyed the express command of your King. Through your arrogance you have opened these peaceful Realms and innocent lives to the horrors of war. You are unworthy of your title, unworthy of the loved ones you have betrayed, and unworthy of your weapon and strength.”

Odin then plunged Gungnir into the Bifrost control panel, activating the spire. Loki watched in silent horror as their father ripped Thor’s cloak from his back, and summoned Mjolnir from Thor’s shaking fist.

“In the name of my father… and of his father before… I cast you out!”

Odin thrust Mjolnir towards Thor, the electricity coming from the weapon disintegrating the rest of Thor’s armor and pushing him backward to the swirling lights of the Bifrost.

This is all my fault. It wasn’t supposed to get this far!

Loki’s mouth hung open in disbelief as he stared at the vortex that had swallowed Thor, barely registering when Odin hurled Mjolnir in, sending it and Thor to a place only he knew. Suddenly it felt as though Loki’s chest was caving in, and the world was spiraling around him.

What have I done?

<< Chapter 18 – Chapter 20 >>

@nikkalia @igotloki @xalgaliareptx @christy-winchester @silverhart93 @claiming-loyalty-to-loki @honeybournehippy @unseelie1963 @mischievousbellerina @manager-of-mischief @angryowlet @thelittlestlittlecutiepie @moonlightprime

#Loki #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki helason #Loki Laufeyson #Death of the lie #DOTL #hela #Hela (Marvel)#Hela Fanfic

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trashyemonerd · 7 years ago

Text

Long Live, Loki

`I assure you, brother, the sun will shine on us again.’

Title: Long Live, Loki

Songs: 149 (as of 05/14/18)

Fandom: Marvel

Character: Loki Odinson/Loki Laufeyson

(listen on spotify here)

++++++++++

1. The Devil You Know by X Ambassadors

2. Horns by Arc North, Bryce Fox

3. Heart and Soul (Acoustic Version) by Built by Titan, Skybourne

4. Sons of Odin by Patrick Doyle

5. Laufey by Patrick Doyle

6. Loki’s Lie by Patrick Doyle

7. The Trial of Loki by Brian Tyler

8. Shadows of Loki by Brian Tyler

9. What Heroes Do by Mark Mothersbaugh

10. The Revolution Has Begun by Mark Mothersbaugh

11. Asgard Is a People by Mark Mothersbaugh

12. Build God, Then We’ll Talk by Panic! At the Disco

13. Emperor’s New Clothes by Panic! At the Disco

14. The Wolf by The Spencer Lee Band

15. Don’t You Know Who I Think I Am? by Fall Out Boy

16. Believer by Imagine Dragons

17. I Predict A Riot by Kaiser Chiefs

18. Undisclosed Desires by Muse

19. Born for This by Royal Deluxe

20. Legends Are Made by Sam Tinnesz

21. Take Me to the Riot by Stars

22. Devil Side by Foxes

23. Man or Monster by Sam Tinnesz, Zayde Wolf

24. Hellfire by Barns Courtney

25. Carry Your Throne by Jon Bellion

26. My Dreams by Starset

27. This World is Not My Home by Pegasus

28. Dead Inside by Muse

29. Devil in Me by Halsey

30. The Outlaw Josey Wales by Zella Day

31. Remembering Myself by Stephen

32. Body Gold by Oh Wonder

33. Burn It Down by Fitz and the Tantrums

34. Mind Games by Banks

35. Bitter End by Rag’n’Bone Man

36. Covenant by Paradices

37. Freaks of Nature by Broods, Tove Lo

38. Halfway to Hell by Eliot Summer

39. Here Is The Place by Empathy Test

40. Poison (Remastered) by The Prodigy

41. Devil May Cry by Mako

42. Thorns by Luna Shadows

43. In the Face of Evil by Magic Swords

44. Bridges by Aisha Badru

45. Stronger Than Ever by Rayleigh Ritchie

46. Never Say Die by CHVRCHES

47. Hail to the Victor by Thirty Seconds to Mars

48. The Heart & The Blood by Built By Titan, Skybourne

49. Criminal by Eminem

50. Not About Angels by Birdy

51. A Drop in the Ocean by Ron Pope

52. Dangerous by Royal Deluxe

53. I Was Here by Beyonce

54. Feel It Still by Portugal. The Man

55. Young God by Halsey

56. You Know What They Do to Guys Like Us in Prison by My Chemical Romance

57. Fake Your Death by My Chemical Romance

58. Stand by Me by Oasis

59. I’m Your Villain by Franz Ferdinand

60. Losing My Religion by R.E.M.

61. Heaven Upside Down by Marilyn Manson

62. Bleed It Out by Linkin Park

63. Immigrant Song by Led Zeppelin

64. The Man by The Killers

65. Gold by Sir Sly

66. Kill Me. The King by Portugal. The Man

67. Nothing Personal by Night Riots

68. Silvertongue by Young the Giant

69. Beautiful Disaster by 311

70. Undying Fidelity by Alan Silvestri

71. Dead Hearts by Stars

72. My Body is A Cage by Arcade Fire

73. Biting Down by Lord

74. Landfill by Daughter

75. This is Why We Fight by The Decemberist

76. Come with Me Now by KONGOS

77. For Now I Am Winter by Olafur Arlands, Arnor Dan

78. All These Things That I’ve Done by The Killers

79. Bones by MR MS

80. Just Tonight by The Pretty Reckless

81. Going to Hell by The Pretty Reckless

82. The Pretender by Foo Fighters

83. Nice Guy by courtship.

84. Shreddy Krueger by Manwolves

85. The Funeral by Band of Horses

86. Hear You Me by Jimmy Eat World

87. Sudden Death by Football, Etc.

88. I Will Follow You Into the Dark by Death Cab for Cutie

89. And You Disappeared by Tomppabeats

90. Centuries by Fall Out Boy

91. Wicked Ones by Dorothy

92. Broken Crown by Mumford & Sons

93. Misguided Ghosts by Paramore

94. Helpless/Bloodlines Pt. II – Medley by Sir Sly

95. Drive You Mad by Amy Shark

96. Bloody Shirt by To Kill A King

97. Skin by Rag’n’Bone Man

98. High On Humans by Oh Wonder

99. Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen

100. Golden Antlers by Glass Animals

101. Hey Good Lookin’ by Tom Hiddleston and the Saddle Spring Boys

102. The Day I Die by ISLAND

103. Snakes by Netherfriends

104. Hands by Barns Courtney

105. Beat the Devil’s Tattoo

106. I’ll Be Good by Jaymes Young

107. Kings by Tribe Society

108. Wires by The Neighbourhood

109. We Must Be Killers by Mikky Ekko

110. Angel of Small Death & The Codeine Scene by Hozier

111. Arsonist’s Lullaby by Hozier

112. Who Are You, Really? By Mikky Ekko

113. in the End by Linkin Park

114. Never Enough by Rex Orange County

115. Apocalypse by Cigarettes After Sex

116. Oh, Calamity! by All Time Low

117. Watch Me by The Phantoms

118. No Light, No Light by Florence + the Machines

119. Sound of Madness by Shinedown

120. Uprising by Muse

121. Animal I Have Become by Three Days Grace

122. Evil in the Night by Adam Lambert

123. Runnin’ by Adam Lambert

124. Human Again by Kodaline

125. Echo by Jason Walker

126. R.I.P. 2 My Youth by The Neighbourhood

127. Second Chance by Shinedown

128. Waves by Dean Lewis

129. It’s Not You by Halestorm

130. Losing My Religion by BeLL

131. I Am the Fire by Halestorm

132. Point of No Return by Starset

133. Imperfection by Evanescence

134. Whole World is Watching by Within Temptation, Dave Pimer

135. Even in Death by Evanescence

136. I Found by Amber Run

137. Ordinary World by Red

138. Red Hands by The Dear Hunter

139. Splendor by M83

140. Shadows by Woodkid

141. Dysfunctional by Tech N9ne Collabos

142. Throne by Bring Me The Horizon

143. Heavydirtysoul by Twenty One Pilots

144. Amsterdam by Nothing But Thieves

145. Hit the Ceiling by Thirdstory

146. Star Treatment by Arctic Monkeys

147. Forgive You by Leon Bridges

148. Funeral by AUGUST 08

149. Father Issues by AUGUST 08

++++++++++

Note: LOKI, GOD OF MISCHIEF, SON OF ODIN, RIGHTFUL HEIR TO JOTUNHIEM, PRINCE OF ASGARD, SILVERTONGUE, DESERVES JUSTICE!! (ilovemysunshine) This playlist is being regularly updated, y’all. I add songs constantly to this. (I was just gonna type at least the first 100 songs in the playlist but got carried away... Oops?)

-Mika the Fangirl x

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