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diaryofabeautyfiend · 2 years

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Tragic Kingdom: Part 5

So I effed around and made this a reverse haram. I'm not sure if it's just for this chapter or not so don't get excited. But, just so we are clear on the warnings again: M/F/M, p in v, oral, mentions of child loss, magical spells gone wrong. 18+ please and thank you.

Geralt met you at the end of the long aisle in front of the dais. Loki trailed behind you looking grief stricken. “You look stunning, Dove. Did you let the prince down gently at least? He looks devastated.” You giggled at the question.

“He did not come to steal me away from you if that is what you are implying, dear husband. We have been raised like brothers and sisters. He simply misses me. And, I admit I miss him too.”

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “I could smell him on you on our wedding night and I smell him now. Though, tonight you do not smell of sex. So I hope whatever transpired has ended. I do not like to share.” Your cheeks warmed at his admission. This was not the place to argue. The two of you walked to the front of the crowd where he presented you to his parents. You were filled with righteous indignation as you bowed before your father in law. He placed the diadem on your head and proclaimed you Princesse of Vanaheim and future Queen. The crowd roared in approval. You rose to your feet, turned to them and plastered a smile on your face. You and Geralt shared a chased kiss and signaled the festivities to begin. Once it was safe to slip away you pulled him into a quiet room to inform him of this evening's plans.

He went through every stage of grief starting with shock and rage. There were tears and apologies and, through it all, he begged you not to comfort him. He should be comforting you. “You can leave. I will not stop you. I will not allow this ritual. You are more precious to me than a child who does not yet exist. Please, Dove. I’ve watched my sisters bury their children. I refuse to see the same happen to us.” You held his hands in yours and assured him that you would be perfectly safe. You tried to push him back into the party but he would not go. “If I have to look at my father right now I will murder him where he stands. My place is with you. Your pain is also mine to endure.”

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In the cover of night Njord took you to a part of the palace that he used for rituals. You would not be disturbed. Geralt and Loki tried to no avail to talk you out of this. You would see it through. Frigga and Njord tied you down to an altar space and began painting your naked body with runes. Over your belly, the rune for fertility, protection and power for your heart and mind. They bathed you in lamb's blood and handed Loki and your mother athames to make precise cuts at your north, south, east and west. Your blood began to mingle with the blood of the lamb. Geralt stayed close by wishing you would stop. You had taken it all relatively well until it was time for the potion that Loki called bottled death. Frigga insisted it was not that serious but your mother looked as though she was going to pass out when Loki uncapped it. “Geralt, she will be in intense pain once I apply this liquid. Are you sure you wish to stay?” Frigga asked.

“I will not leave her side. May I hold her hand?”

“Yes, of course. In fact, you”ll need to hold her down. Y/N are you sure? We can stop at any time.”

“Allmother, please continue. Everyone stop looking at me in that manner. I will be good as new soon.” Frigga began to pour when Loki took the bottle from her hands.

“I will do it. Kjære, if you will not reconsider then I will begin.” He kissed your blood soaked forehead and signaled Geralt to take your hands. You could hear both their hearts pounding in their chests. With a deep breath you signaled Loki to begin.

At first you only felt cold. Your body began to shiver then you shook violently when it began to soak into your open wounds. You screamed and convulsed with pain. Geralt begged Loki to stop but you screamed at him to continue. The four mages flanked your body and choked out a spell in an old dead language. All that you could hear was Geralt telling you he loved you, willing you to live, begging you not to leave him. Finally, when every bit was absorbed, you went still. Nearing the brink of unconsciousness you faintly heard your mother crying and Njord ordering Geralt to get you in the tub of water. “Scrub her clean,” he barked. Geralt and Loki worked together to get every inch of you free from blood and grime that soaked into your skin and hair.

“Please, Dove. Please wake up. I love you.” Geralt said again and again in your ear. He lifted you from the tub so Loki could wrap you in white vestments. Your husband carried you to your bed where the group held vigil at your bedside. You did not wake for two days.

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In your dream state you found yourself face to face with Sarai. She was beautifully dressed in blue holding her son. “Your journey will be a fruitless one, little witch. There is only one way to lift my spell.” The babe looked just like you imagined Geralt did. She rocked him to shush his cries.

“You can end this, Sarai. Geralt should not be punished for the king’s wrongdoings. Please.”

“I did help him!” she raged. “He lives does he not? I died the day my son was taken from me and again to let your husband live lest you forget.” You would get nowhere with this conversation. You had to appeal to her as a mother.

“He’s beautiful.” you said, gazing down at her son. “May I hold him?” She smiled warmly at the chubby boy in her arms bouncing him on her hip. He didn’t take his amber eyes off of you.

“Of course you can. He is yours after all.” The baby smiled at you in recognition. You held out your arms and he flung his tiny body forward. He was your son. He had Geralt’s eyes and the elegant swoop of your eyebrows and curve of your nose. “Ivar will allow him to die in your arms. Why should he sit on the throne when he refused to protect his own family?” You held your son to your body and sobbed while he cooed and babbled against your chest.

“Why would it matter if he has no mother?”

“If Geralt is king, will he allow the council to hang you?” You knew he would murder them where they stood if any of them so much as touched a hair on your head. “You do not take their father you take the coward out of their lives who would sooner bury his sons and grandsons than relinquish his power. End their suffering. Their plan won’t work. I saw to that when I cast the spell.”

“Plan?” you whispered “What plan?”

Sarai cackled, “Of course they didn’t tell you. They struck a deal with the Allfather. He gathered the leaders of the realms and their mages to save Geralt, yes. But they had to find a way to break the curse. Your mother comes from an ancient line of healers but she and your father were barren. So they forged you out of the magic of all the realms. Your mother was the only vessel strong enough to contain the magic. You were bred to save Ivar’s line. Your marriage was arranged long ago. The deal ended the Vanir/Aesir war making Ivar forever beholden to Odin. Vanaheim has supplied Asgard with food for millennia.”

You couldn’t breathe. You sank to the ground rocking your son trying to calm yourself. “When Loki said I was made for him…”

“It’s your power that called to him. The Jotuns used the Cask of Ancient Winters to imbue you with the frost giant’s magic. He feels it.”

“Does he know what I am?” You were filled with so much rage that it tickled and burned the back of your throat.

“No. Neither does Geralt. When Ivar came to me to ‘beg me to lift the spell’” she chuckled, “He really came to take my blood. All of it. Njord though, because Ari shared my blood, it could be used to break the curse. They were wrong. Like a true imbecile, Ivar told me of his plan. I died with a smile on my face because I knew they would fail miserably. My language was specific. It is only Ivar’s blood that breaks the curse.” She took your son from your arms and they both began to fade away. “If you want to see him again. You know what to do.”

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The vast space you were in began to darken. Smoke clouded your vision and enveloped your body. You felt a pull in your womb then nausea washed over you. Your infertility charm was fighting against the rune painted on your belly. The rune won. You found your way out of the darkness back to your body willing yourself to open your eyes. You took a piece of the darkness with you. If the spell would not work, you would end the king’s life. When you awoke, Loki was the first person you saw.

“Kjære?! Someone get the prince. Quickly!” He held you up and kissed your face. “Say something. Please.”

“Water.” was all you could say. He grabbed the bedside pitcher which you snatched from his hands and drained in lieu of a glass. Geralt and your parents rushed into the room. Loki held you up until Geralt was able to get you in his arms. Your father and mother clutched each other waiting for you to speak. It was only Loki who could see at first. Something was wrong. You didn’t look like yourself.

“My sweet Dove. Please say something.” Geralt was beside himself with worry.

“You look like shit, husband.” He laughed rumbling deep in his chest.

“I feel like shit, wife. Can you sit up on your own or are you too weak?” You feigned weakness for him but the truth was you felt like you could topple a mountain.

“Just hungry.” you lied.

“Do not move. I will get you whatever you wish. Name it.” He still had not let you go.

“Meat and a lot of it. And a barrel of wine.” Everyone giggled nervously around you. Njord pushed them all aside to listen to your heart and check you over.

“She lost a lot of blood. The meat will replenish her iron. We’ll send for it right away. Come, everyone. Let’s let the princesse have some space to breathe.”

“You’re sure you’re ok, dear?” Your mother asked. You could not look at your parents. They would have to wait. You had a hunger growing deep in your core and you could not help yourself. They all had to leave immediately.

“Yes, I’m fine. Promise.” You shooed everyone away to spend a few moments alone with Geralt. Loki looked on warely. He could feel it. Could hear the whispers around you. You were changed. Geralt could feel it too. They shared a look as Loki left the room.

“I’ve asked you not to lie to me, Dove.” Geralt said in monotone.

“I couldn’t speak freely in front of my parents. I saw Sarai. She claimed the spell will not work.” You would not break his heart any further. Not until you spoke to your parents and Loki.

“Then you went through hell for nothing.”

“Not for nothing. I’ll find another path….”

“No!” he slammed his fist on the wall. “I will not lose you. The line dies with me.”

“Unless we can convince the small council to allow our first born daughter to sit on the throne.”

He laughed, “They will never go for it.”

“Does the council rule Vanaheim or will you? I’ll slaughter them and promote a new council if I have to. With me, you will have no need for a mage. Njord will step aside.”

It was not like you to speak that way. It gave him pause but he thought better of asking again if you were well. “You are a murderous little thing arent you? Let us pray it never needs to come to bloodshed.”

“Perhaps I can find a spell that would guarantee I only have girls.” He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind and you felt him smiling against your hair.

“It is my lot in life to be surrounded by beautiful women. I could think of a worse fate.” He nipped at your jawline, awakening an overwhelming feeling of arousal. You ran your hands over his and worked your way into his lap. Before he knew what you were doing, you pulled up your nightgown and ground into his stiffening cock. “Dove, what are you doing?” You did not stop. His arms tightened, “You need rest.”

“No, I need you to fuck me.” A light sheen of sweat glistened on your skin. You were too hot in all the clothing and blankets it was suffocating. You tore at your clothing, your skin felt too tight. All the while you continued to rub against him soaking his trousers. “Geralt, fuck me. I need it.”

“You are boiling hot, Y/N. Stop. Let me get Njord or your mother.” He tried to push you away but you wouldn’t let him go. The scent of your arousal was beginning to overwhelm him. He had to be inside of you. He had to fill you up.

His refusal angered you. You were in pain and he wouldn’t help you. “It hurts. Please, husband fuck me. Make it stop.”

“No. Something is wrong. Stop! Let me get you help.” You whipped your body around to face him. Your pupils expanded leaving a thin ring of color surrounding depthless onyx. Geralt shouted for help enraging you. You slapped him hard across the face and lunged for him. Loki was the only one still pacing outside of the door. He burst in to see Geralt holding you down.

“What’s happening?! Let her go!” Loki reached for Geralt’s hands when he noticed your eyes.

“Loki” you whined, “My Prince please help me. I hurt. Please fuck me.”

“It’s a side effect of the spell.” He muttered. “It must have sent the fertility charm into overdrive.”

“What do we do?” Geralt struggled.

“Give her what she wants.”

“Are you insane? I cannot take advantage of her in this state.” You managed to wiggle out of Geralt’s hold back into his lap where you rutted against him furiously.

“Looks as though it is the princesse who is taking advantage of you, my lord.” He leaned down and pressed his ear to your chest. His touch was electrifying. You moaned loudly and Loki’s body responded on instinct. “Her heartbeat is too fast. You have to do it. Put her out of her misery.”

“Fuck.” He lifted you enough to unfasten his pants and sheathed himself in you. Your whole body shuddered as you reached your first orgasm. Loki tried to leave but Geralt stopped him. “Don’t leave. What if I hurt her?” You did not seem any better and Geralt was nearing his tipping point. “Dove, you have to slow down. I won’t last much longer.”

“I can’t. I need more. Harder, Geralt. Please.” Tears flowed down your cheeks feeling no relief. Another orgasm slammed through your body but you still cried. When you came, so did Geralt. He kept fucking you until he could no longer maintain his erection. “Not enough” you cried. He tried fucking you with his fingers but you still begged for more.

Loki and Geralt made eye contact. A silent plea from your husband to help you. “I’ve got you, Kjære.” You lay on top of your husband kissing him deeply while Loki took you from behind. His pace was brutal, punishing. It was everything you needed.

“Yes, my Prince. So good. Harder.” Your moans spurred on Geralt who was quickly stiffening beneath you.

“Do you want your princes to fill you, pet?

“Yes. Need it.” Loki pounded faster bringing himself to the brink pulling out at the last second to spill hot seed over your thighs. Geralt replaced him pumping hard into you bringing you both over the edge into an earth shattering end. Finally you collapsed on your husband's chest panting and sated. When Loki stepped away you pulled him back to kiss him more passionately than he’s ever been kissed before. Geralt peppered kisses over your sweat soaked skin helping to calm you. “Thank you. You’ve both saved me. I felt like I was going to explode.”

“Norns, pet. Next time you plan on spelling yourself into a frenzy, remind me to stay outside.” He kissed your shoulder and excused himself to clean up.

“Are you feeling better, Dove?” Geralt stroked your wet hair

“Much. I need a bath. Come with me?”

“Of course. But just a bath. I think you broke my cock.”

You laughed against his chest, “Of course.”

The bath felt marvelously hot, relaxing all of your muscles. Loki washed up and sat on the settee in the corner while Geralt washed you. You told him of your brush with Sarai. His blood ran cold thinking of all the pain you went through for nothing. He was unsure if your episode would be the last or if more was coming. It could be the fertility charm burning its way through you or something else. Something worse. You were different. Something lingered within you that he couldn’t place. All three of you agreed that it was best if he stayed behind for a few days. No one wanted you attacking an unsuspecting guard or, Norns forbid poor Njord. Besides, if you got that worked up again, Geralt would be unable to handle you on his own.

After dinner Geralt excused himself, too exhausted to even stand. You stayed up with Loki to tell him of your conversation with Sarai. He was horrified and confused then finally relieved. “So you were not made for me but made of me. Understandable why I feel compelled to always be near you besides being hopelessly in love with you. How do you feel?”

“Betrayed.” Loki understood all too well. It was only recently that he learned of his true parentage. “I need to talk to my parents.”

“Tomorrow, Kjære. Get some rest.”

“Will you stay with me?” He paused unsure of his next move.

“The floor looks comfortable enough I suppose.”

You took his hands and kissed both his palms, “Come to bed with us.” Unsure if you were still feeling the effects of the spell he tried to pull away.

“I am quite sure your husband would not appreciate me in your marital bed. Good night, Kjære.” He kissed you, careful not to spur you on and excused himself.

You remained in front of the fire conflicted, rehashing your entire life. Every memory of each deliberate move your parents made whilst raising you brought you to perfect clarity. You were no better than a prized dairy cow.

At first light you will wake Geralt and divulge your secrets then you will find your parents to confront them. Sleep never came for you. You stayed in your chair stroking your belly quietly singing to your son who was already growing.

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Geralt found you in the sitting room in front of the dying fire with the curtains drawn. You did not look up when you heard him walk into the room. You remained stock still save for the hand absentmindedly stroking your belly. Your skin was pale and a shadow formed under your eyes which looked black in the dim light. Or were your eyes changed?

“Y/n? Dove? Have you slept?” No answer. It was as though you were completely unaware that he was in the room. He ran a finger along your jawline and brought your face up to look at him. “Have you been out here all night?”

“We need to talk.” You told him every single detail of what Sarai told you. There was no way to mentally prepare himself for the raw emotion that spilled from him. “This ends now, Geralt. I have been sent here to save your line and I intend to.”

“Let’s leave. I’ll abdicate. Let them fight out who will be king when father dies. Just me, you and our boy. Please do not put me in this position.” He rested his forehead against yours, “I have taken lives, my love. I have felt guilt every day since. Please do not do this to yourself.”

You jumped from the chair and got in Geralt’s to make yourself abundantly clear, “Your father did not fight for any of you. Will you treat your son the same? If you will not fight for him, I will.”

“This is me fighting.” he growled. “This is the honorable thing to do. I do not wish for you to feel the guilt I feel. You are too good to stain your soul this way.”

“What will happen to me when our child dies in my arms? What of my soul then?” You held each other’s eyes for several moments before you could trust your voice to speak. “Let me do what I was created to do.”

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The two of you left the conversation unresolved which made you even more angry on the way to speak to your parents. They were all enjoying breakfast when you bounded into the room in your nightclothes, your hair wild. “Mother and father, I need a moment.”

“Elskan, you look terrible. Have you eaten? Sit down. Have some tea.” No one took their eyes off of you.

“Now. Please.” Your father opened his mouth to scold you but your mother quieted him and followed you to your chambers. “What am I? And before you lie, I already know. I simply want to hear you say it.”

“Who told you?” Your mother asked exasperated.

“That is irrelevant. What am I?”

“Our daughter.” Your father chimed in.

“Lies. Have I ever had a choice about who I married?”

“No. I’m sorry, sweetheart but no. We tried to minimize any damage but you were just like any young woman. You had needs. Desires. And you were so happy.” Astrid tried to touch you but you recoiled.

Tears started flowing down your face when you realized what she meant, “Fandral?”

“It had to be done.”

“Norns, mother. I blamed Loki. Loki blamed himself. That almost destroyed us.”

“That was a happy accident. Had to get you away from Loki or else you would have never asked to court. We wanted it to be your decision.” Kasper explained.

“But it was never my decision. My life is not my own. I have no idea if my husband truly loves me or if his feelings are the result of some spell. Do you know how that feels?! You need to leave. All of you.”

“But, Elskan, you do not look well. Let us stay to help you through this.”

“You’ve done quite enough. Please leave.”

“We love you, Y/n. You are our daughter and we want to be here for you.” Your mother tried and failed to hug you.

“You are not my mother. You were nothing more than my incubator.” She winced as though you slapped her.

“Then we will take our leave. Be well, Elskan.”

They left to gather their things with only the sound of your mother’s sobs trailing behind them. You hadn’t noticed Loki slip into the room. “Am I included in the ‘all of you’ part? He asked sheepishly.

“For now. Please don’t argue. Don’t make this any harder. Geralt and I have things we must work through.” You paced back and forth picking at your fingers muttering to yourself.

“I take it your conversation didn’t go well.”

“He wants to abdicate. Like that will do anything to quell the curse.”

Loki stepped closer and sensed your tension, “May I touch you?” You did not stop him when he placed his hands on your shoulders nor when he stepped closer to hold you. “You will do what needs to be done. And, if you must flee, I will follow.”

“So will I.” Geralt’s gravely voice sounded from the doorway. “No spell, no matter how powerful, could force me to feel the way I do about you. You are my wife.” You turned, still in Loki’s arms, to face your husband. “The mother of my son.”

A warm smile played across his lips as he tenderly touched your belly. “I will support whatever decision you make.” He pressed a kiss to your lips leaning you back against Loki’s chest. “I’ll leave you to say goodbye. Thank you for everything. And I am being sincere when I say I hope you return sooner rather than later.” He winked at Loki and stepped out of the room.

#loki #loki odinson #loki x reader angst #loki smut #loki x female reader #geralt x reader #geralt x y/n #witcher geralt #geralt imagine #geralt of rivia #witcher

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johnhooperphotographer · 1 year

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6 boats outside Margate. . . . . . #216mgp #panorama #sea #boats #fujfilmgfx100s #gfx100s #gfx5x4adaptor #toyocx45 #boats #5x4adaptor #containership #njord #reefer #greencostarica #tanker #zapadnyy #generalcargo #katec #wings #heavyloadcarrier #enoughtalk #ship (at Walpole Bay Beach) https://www.instagram.com/p/Cm1l-dRINFD/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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ajtorres0 · 1 year

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Norsevember day 7 Alfheim Welcome to my day 7 of Norsevember where I get to talk about my New Adult Epic Fantasy alternate telling of Norse Mythology, Valhalla The Call of Yggdrasil. Today I will be talking about the OTHER gods from Vanaheim. However, unlike the Aesir, the Vanir can't partake in the golden apples of Yggdrasil, but they can live for a long time, centuries worth until they start showing signs of aging. The once former home of the god Njord and his twins, Vanaheim is lush with plant life and magic, their realm is almost like a mix of Asgard and Alfheim with seidr and guardians of their own. In the past the Vanir and Aesir had a tumultuous relationship, but now, mostly thanks to Njord and Ódin's youngest brother, their connection has never been stronger. . . . . #bookstagram #newadult #nafantasy #nabook #vtcoy #ajtorres #indiebook #indieauthor #fantasy #fantasybook #epicfantasy #norsefantasy #booksofig #readersofig #booknerd #booklover #bibliophile #bookcommunity #bookaesthetic #aestheticboard #mybook #norsevember #norsemythology #norsegods #johanegerkrans #Vanaheim #Njord #bookwip https://www.instagram.com/p/ClY_pGvrjOk/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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metalcultbrigade · 2 years

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Em 26/08/2009, o Leaves' Eyes lançava "Njord", seu terceiro álbum de estúdio. https://www.instagram.com/p/Chu8zJOg7-U/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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debehinafu · 2 years

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bluesman56 · 5 years

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flickr

Njord Kittiwake by Tony Via Flickr: A small, fast supply vessel for maintaining turbines on the wind farms out in the Liverpool bay.

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chaosrisingverse · 1 year

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ANEIRA NJORDDÓTTIR, twenty (immortal)

ALIAS | Princess Aneira, Goddess of Ice, Snow and Winter

FAMILY | Njord (father), Skaði (mother), (siblings tba)

ENDGAME SHIP | Cerise Wagner

ORIENTATION | lesbian, cis woman

POWERS / ABILITIES / EQUIPMENT

POWERS | Allspeak, Enhanced Senses, Healing Factor, Longevity, Self Sustenance, Superhuman Durability, Superhuman Speed, Superhuman Stamina and Superhuman Strength (via Asgardian Physiology), Cold Weather Manipulation, Ice Manipulation Season Embodiment - of Winter, Snow Manipulation, Winter Embodiment (via Goddess of Ice, Snow and Winter)

ABILITIES | Hand-to-Hand Combat (Advanced), Skilled Hunter and Weaponry

EQUIPMENT | n / a

FACECLAIM | Haejin Lee

PINTEREST | Aneira

#c: aneira njorddottir #p: njord #p: skadi

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anxiouspotatorants · 2 years

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So @johermione and @stellaluna33 have been having this really cool discussion about comparing Jess Mariano with Mr Darcy from Pride and Prejudice, and they got into the topic of Loki/e, the Norse god most famously depicted in the MCU. And while I’m not an MCU fan (I’m not anti MCU, but I’m not exactly fond of their depiction of Norse mythology either.... that’s not the point though), I do want to throw in my two cents about comparing Jess to Loke from Norse mythology!

(Quick disclaimer before I start: there is very little written records from the time of exactly what Scandinavians believed in during the Viking age and how they practiced their belief. Like, astoundingly little (oral culture over written yada yada it’s a long story). And the little we do have isn’t 100% reliable either (just look at any historian debating about the validity of Snorre Sturlason’s works... or which gods are actually just aliases of each others and which aren’t) So take everything I say and every interpretation I make with a huge grain of salt... also! I’m writing anything from Norse mythology and poor Snorre’s name in modern Norwegian-ish spelling because I’m lazy :P)

For those who need a refresher, Loke is a god from Norse mythology whose alliances are sort of flimsy. He is of Jotunætt (aka of the Jotuns) but considered to be part of the Æsegods. He can be defined as a trickster god who often gets the other gods in trouble, but also helps them out a lot (except for when he doesn’t). He’s a shapeshifter who can switch species and gender, and has both fathered and mothered various creatures and gods (Sleipnir, Hel, Fenris, the Midgardsorm). He tends to cause the other gods a lot of grief (like when he cut Siv’s hair against her wishes) and even crashes a party once to offend every god he can until Tor threatens him away, but what finally severs his ties to the gods is the death of Balder (long story short he tricks Balder’s blind brother Hod into shooting Balder with an arrow that kills him. When Hel only agrees to let Balder return to Åsgard on the condition that every living being weeps for him, Loke shapeshifts into an old crone and refuses to cry). He flees for a while, is then captured, and in Ragnarok he’s going to lead the army against the gods only to die in combat with Heimdall.

Now one important thing I have to explain that is crucial to understanding both the mythology and this meta about a Gilmore Girls character, is that Norse Mythology doesn’t really operate on black and white morality. The Jotner are not inherently evil, but rather foils to the gods and competition. If the gods represent order the Jotner are chaos. But the two main groups are also tightly connected, both narratively and literally. Several gods, like Loke and possibly Tor (info on Fjorgyn/Jord is scarce), are related to Jotner or at least part Jotun themselves. Frøy, god of autumn, prosperity and fertility, marries a Jotun woman. And many of the male Jotner desire his sister Frøya. It’s also worth noting that the gods and Jotner have different factions within themselves and are also just some of several species. For example, the gods themselves are split at least between the Æsegods and the Vanegods, who actually fight for ages until the Æsegods win, and Vanegods like Frøy, Frøya and Njord are taken into the clan. Basically, all of this needs to be said so that you understand that just because Loke ends up on the side against the gods, doesn’t mean he is pure evil. And the gods aren’t secret villains either. To quote Rachel Bloom: “The situation is a lot more nuanced than that.”

So what does any of this have to do with a 2000s romcom tv character? Not a lot actually. I think it’s fair to say that there’s little point in speculating whether Loke would see himself in Jess Mariano. He’s a literal god, he has other things to deal with, and also I don’t think I have the gall to assume what he would think or feel. But that doesn’t mean Jess wouldn’t see himself in Loke. So hear me out:

When Jess arrives to Stars Hollow, he’s instantly branded as an outsider and a threat. The townies don’t like him, his motivations are constantly questioned, and every f**k up he makes is held over his head like a proof of his deviousness. And hell, why try to be anything else? He’s a crafty kid, and he’s never been one for order anyway. So why not put a chalkboard outline of a dead body outside Taylor’s market? Why not steal the school’s 500 baseballs? Why not rile up that cute girl’s boyfriend just to see how much steam he can get out of those ears?

Now imagine this Jess, teenage dirtbag Jess, coming across an English translation of the Prose Edda or the Poetic Edda. Imagine that boy reading these stories, of gods who fight and love and make stupid bets and dress up as the opposite gender to get their hammer back and are just generally pretty messy and entertaining but also dark and violent. Who would that boy relate to? The thunder god with a loving wife, magical tools and his very own hall? The golden boy son of rulers, described as sweet and kind and fragile and loved and mourned by almost every creature in existence? The symbol of fertility and success, the very essence of desire, a ruler of his own realm and a man of peace?

Or does he relate to the asshole outsider who always gets people into trouble, never gets credit for fixing things, and is kind of creative as f**k?

Jess might not relate to Loke as a diety, but he sure as hell might feel like people have cast him in the role of Loke. And narratively it does check out. Jess did screw up and end up having to patch things up (the car crash, the love triangle, Luke drama). His efforts to improve are initially dismissed or treated like the least he could do, and one day he does the thing that is just a step too far. Obviously not as far as killing another person and refusing to revive them when given the chance, but far enough in this human small town life to destroy his ties to Rory, Luke and Stars Hollow. His existence also has this lingering effect on the narrative that mirrors Loke. As mentioned, Loke parents a lot of creatures, and while some (Sleipnir) serve the gods well, most of them become future enemies in some way. Hel refuses to let Balder go and rules what is considered the ‘crappy’ place for dead people, Fenris is prophesised to kill Odin in Ragnarok (a fate that is sealed when Odin decides to chain down Fenris) and the Midgardsorm is- like, the Midgardsorm. It’s a giant snake swimming around Earth eating anyone who goes over the edge and has to be defeated by Tor in Ragnarok. And again, obviously Jess’ actions don’t have nearly as colossal consequences as this, but he does become this ghost to the season 4 narrative with what he did in season 3 and his current absence. He becomes this unnamed boogeyman who haunts Rory’s romantic narrative and reminds Luke of his failings, and every time he does show up he leaves things even messier than he found them.

But just like the mythology Loke belongs to, Jess’ situations are a lot more nuanced than that. Obviously he’s not the only one causing trouble (two good examples of this in the mythology are the bet in Gylvaginning and the chaining of Fenris); there’s also Dean and Lorelai and Rory and Luke as well as many others. And what’s important to know about Jess is that he’s not a villain, he’s a teenager. A teenager who might not be part Jotne, but does come from a troubled background. Who isn’t a shapeshifter, but is a bit of a modern day trickster anyway. Who might not have intentionally betrayed his friends and murdered a beloved God, but did cut off his loved ones and consciously antagonise several people of a small town. But where Loke would eventually become the leader of the enemy, trapped in a fate written long before it began, Jess got to grow up. Make amends. Live his life. Be an actual human being because that is what he was. Not a myth.

#so this got sort of sappy at the end but I hope you liked it!#so yeah in conclusion Loke is not Jess but Jess is Loke #does that make sense? Oh well it does in my head #also it's so nice to finally get to gush a little about Norse mythology #I've considered doing it before but it's always been as some angry rant response to a new adaptation #and I just don't have the energy for those discourse spaces #Gilmore Girls is my safe discourse space #also RIP to Snorre sorry I butchered your spelling baby I grew up with the modern Norwegian translations #the potato rants #jess mariano #jess mariano meta #gilmore girls meta #gilmore girls discourse #loke #should I even tag him??

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ceriseeclipse · 3 years

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The Water Signs as Norse Gods

C A N C E R

Var/Vár - Goddess of Marriage and Oaths

Heimdall - God of Light and Protection

S C O R P I O

Vidar/Víðarr - God of Vengeance and Silence

Hel - Goddess of Death and the Underworld

P I S C E S

Sjofn/Sjöfn - Goddess of Human Passion and Sensuality

Njord/Njörðr - God of the Sea

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maskofsilenceartwork · 3 years

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Njord Armor Set for Eivor from Assassins Creed Valhalla Original Concept #assassinscreedvalhalla #eivor #assassinscreed #ubisoft #vikings #norsemythology #jormangandr #seadragon #oceangod #armordesign #helmets #shields #spears #njord (at Longwood, Florida) https://www.instagram.com/p/CSD-Uk9LbPh/?utm_medium=tumblr

#assassinscreedvalhalla #eivor #assassinscreed #ubisoft #vikings #norsemythology #jormangandr #seadragon #oceangod #armordesign #helmets #shields #spears #njord

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lokidokiliteratureclub · 5 years

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Frostbitten (Chapter One)

Loki x Reader

Prologue

Y/N L/N is a child of a Jotun and an Asgardian. She spends her life hidden in the dungeons of Asgard, with no one to talk to other than one of the princes- a man who seems completely incapable of leaving her alone and entirely unable to give up on helping her. Y/N and Loki Odinson have always been inseparable, it seems- even when there is a cell wall, or a village, or an entire kingdom between them.

Even when he disappears, even when you run away, and even when his world falls apart; you are inseparable.

Oh lordy the first part of this fic got waaayy more attention than I was expecting If you want to be added for tags in this series, leave a comment or send me an ask, and I’ll add you for the coming parts. Thanks so much for reading!!

P.S.: This part is not action-filled or anything. The interesting stuff starts the next part.

P.P.S: Normally I don’t update this quickly- I just wasn’t doing anything else today.

________________________

Twelve Years Later

Loki Odinson has not been down in the dungeons for two months. That's two months of being alone. Two months of not speaking. Two months of you wondering what's wrong on the surface. Three times so far you've gotten too close to the barrier. Those three times are hardened burns on your blue arms. Small welts on your soft palms. Scratches on your bare knees. The lady who brings you food in the morning noticed the wounds but said nothing- simply laying a tub of ice on the table next to a soft washcloth.

The fact that they actually gave you an unassembled ice pack for your injuries makes you want to laugh. It sounds like something you’d tell Loki about. You add it silently to the list of things you’ll tell him when he comes back.

If he comes back.

Loki has left before- usually with a warning, though. Usually only for a week. It has been eight.

One day he’s sitting outside your cell, applauding you on how far you’ve advanced in magic and droning on about how he wishes he could see you without the yellow film between you- maybe even touch you. Shake your hand. Touch your shoulder. Things that people can do when they’re not imprisoned under a giant castle or unable to control whose arm they freeze off. One day, you two are dreaming of what could be, completely absorbed in each other's thoughts and words, and the next, the inseparable become separated.

And even though it’s possible that he left you by choice, you’re more worried for him than you are about yourself.

"Hey, Njord," you speak aloud, targeting one of the head guards on patrol. He doesn't stop to look at you, not even shifting from his position outside your cell. "Hey, Njord," you say, louder. "What's the buzz? How's the royal family?"

Njord heaves an annoyed sigh but doesn't respond. You scoot closer to the barrier so that you and the guard are only really about a foot apart.

"Hey, Njord,"

He makes a huffing noise.

"I'd like a book. Or a cup of tea. Is that arrangeable?" You tilt your head, fiddling with a couple spare strands of hair. "Your beard looks rather nice today. Very clean."

Njord gives a slight swell of pride and raises a hand to caress his beard, but then he realizes he doesn't have a beard. His face falls. He looks sad. You almost feel bad, but you don’t. So you laugh.

"Don't tease him, he lost the beard in a bet," says Lady Sif, descending into the prison in a bit of haste and sparing you a quick glance. "Haven't you anything else to do, prisoner?"

You shrug, rolling onto your back and staring at the ceiling. "I'm a twenty-two-y-year-old Jotun-Asgardian hybrid in prison, whose only companion has been inexplicably absent for two months. Njord won't get me books. I haven't seen the light of day in fourteen years. I have literally nothing to think about and nothing to do, so no."

"Njord, get her a book or two so she'll quit talking," Sif grumbles, and footsteps let you know that he is leaving.

You roll onto your stomach, staring out at her. She's dismounting a shield and removing a sword from one of the upper shelves of the guard's stock. She's a bit flimsy with the weapons from what you can see, but Loki had insisted that she showed promise in the combat field. More than meets the eye, you suppose.

You watch her fasten the shield to her arm and prop yourself up on your elbows. "Will you be joining the staff down here?"

She sends you a pointed glare. "No. I'll be joining the staff up there." Sif nods toward the stairs leading out of the dungeons and grabs a sword sheath from another shelf, attempting to fasten that on as well.

"Joining the army? How patriotic."

She ignores you, sheaths the sword, and heads back up.

"Hm." You exhale. "Rude."

Moments later, Njord arrives back in your cell, stepping through the energy barrier like it’s not even there. He drops a single hardcover down in front of you, then strides back out and resumes his post. The book is long- which is probably what Njord was going for when he found it. It’ll take you especially long since you really have only known how to read for three years- courtesy of Loki, of course. The gift of literacy is one of the many you’ve received from him. Hopefully, it can save you from dying of boredom or worry while you wonder where the hel he is.

The first thing you notice when you look at the book is that it’s completely tattered- sometimes with entire pages missing out of it. The pages that remain are yellowed and reek of a musty, almost moldy smell. You wrinkle your nose, looking back to Njord.

“Where did you get this?” you ask, shaking your head.

Njord finally gives in and responds with a grain of salt: “The book cart outside the dungeon. Last one.”

There’s no book cart outside the dungeon. They keep the area empty to ensure there aren’t any messages being passed between the outside world and the world down here.

Could Loki be trying to... no. Well, maybe. Maybe he’s banned from the dungeons. Maybe this is his only way to contact. Maybe he hasn’t abandoned you, and he’s been trying to contact all this time. The thought of it gives you the tiniest shard of hope.

You look back down at the book, then very carefully open it. The title is Where You Will and it appears to be romantic fiction. A picture of a girl and a boy are drawn next to each other, the boy wrapping the girl in a shawl. There’s a smeared fingerprint beside the title, and a small note is written in the margin in sloppy, rushed lettering.

I’m cold.

You frown, moving your thumb over the words.

That turned out to be exactly what you needed to do.

In the places where your finger met the page, you see pieces of discoloration. Your heart starts to beat a bit faster, twisting in your chest. You press your entire palm to the page for a moment and then lift it.

It’s a drawing of a snake and beside it a lightly sketched snowflake.

Ok, this is definitely Loki. And unless he’s communicating with another Jotun prisoner who happens to be able to read and happens to have the audacity to ask a guard for books, the message in this book is for you.

You turn the page and grip the side of the book, spilling frost over the surface of the parchment. There are no notes- instead, there are very slight, nearly hidden underlines under some letters. You read over them, putting them together in your head.

y o u n e e d T o l e a V e

And then you flip the page, giving it the same treatment.

c o l d Is t h e a B s e n c e o f e n E r g y

Then the next page.

t r Y t o d I S s a p e a r

Then,

I w I l l f i n d y o u w H e r e v e r y o u a r e - L

You flip to the next page, and then the next, and the next, until you’re absolutely positive that you’ve seen every message.

If this is Loki, which it has to be, how long have the books been there? Weeks? A month? How old is this message? And why should you hide?

Cold is the absence of energy.

You at least know what that means. The barrier is pure energy. Loki seems to be implying that you can freeze it, or suck all the juice out of it, or something similar. He clearly thinks you’re more powerful than you are. Not a surprise. That’s kind of his signature move: overestimating you.

It’s charming in a disappointing way.

Your lips curve into a smile, but it fades into a frown at the thought that whatever Loki is trying to get you away from you cannot escape. You might never see him again. That’s a bit of a dark thought. To never see his sculpted face or charming smile, his dark hair or bright eyes- it leaves a sort of hole in your chest.

You can’t ever see him again. But can you talk to him? There’s no invisible ink for you to use, but...

You squeeze your eyes shut, wincing, and then bite roughly down on the inside of your cheek until you taste blood. You slip a finger inside your mouth and, using the same communication strategy Loki did, wipe a faint smear of blue over letters on the page, spelling out what you want him to see.

You set down the book and stand up, moving toward the small bed in the back of the cell. Your fear moves through your body and crystalizes on the floor, leaving a trail of ice in your wake.

You repeat your list of things to remember, your list of things you’ve been told, as you lie down, coaxing yourself into sleep.

You are going to be okay, and nothing can stop that from being so. Not the princes. Not the armies. Not the guards or the walls or the bars that hold you in. Not the ice in your blood or the dark in your eyes. You are safe. You will always be safe. You are not a monster. You are not alone. You can control yourself. I will watch over you.

----

Loki Odinson has not been down to the dungeons in two months. That’s two months of wondering what could be going wrong. That’s two months of hoping you know he hasn’t abandoned you. That’s three attempts at contact, this last one being the most obvious. Writing in a book with ink that can only be seen in the cold. He just has to hope you ask for books, and hope the guards comply.

He does not enjoy being apart from you, and even though he was fully aware that it was going to be hard- suddenly not having you in his life, that is- he could not have anticipated just how hard it was. He actually spoke to his brother, for Odin’s sake. That wasn’t even the hardest task of them all.

You are an echo inside his mind. A song that plays over and over and over, no matter how infuriating it can be. Every time he thinks he can think about something else, you creep back into his mind and he becomes restless again. He buries his head in his hands and tries not to rip out every strand of hair, failing not to picture the worst that could happen if you aren’t prepared. If he can’t get you out of the castle before something.. before it happens. And it’s happening.

When he sees that the book is gone from the cart, his heart nearly stops. He takes a deep breath, puts on a scowl, and confronts an annoyed Njord as he exits the dungeons.

“Hey, Njord,” he speaks, trying his best to sound uninterested. “Where’s my book?”

Njord stiffens at the sound of Loki’s cold voice and turns deftly toward him. “Your book, your highness?”

“I left it on the cart outside.” He signals to the empty cart, and Njord goes a shade whiter. “You were on guard, yes?”

“The book was yours, sir?”

“Did you give it to someone else?”

“One of the prisoners, sir. Forgive me, I thought it to be meant for-” he breaks off, noticing Loki’s disinterest in the conversation. “I’ll retrieve it at once.”

Moments later, he returns, grasping the book in his hands. He holds it out to Loki, and the prince swiftly takes it from him, huffing to keep from bursting into tears. Njord looks like he might go into cardiac arrest, on the other hand, so Loki adds: “If the prisoners are in need of some form of entertainment, I’ll gather a collection of books personally.”

Njord nods, swallowing. “Yes, sir.”

“Don’t do it again.”

“Of course not, sir.”

“Good,” Loki turns on his heel, away from the guard. “Oh, and your beard is looking swell today, Njord.”

He strides, perhaps a bit too quickly, over to the library, and drops the book on the table, flipping to the opening page. It’s empty. But turn another, and smears of blue appear, clouding over certain letters. Loki’s pulse quickens. He finds his grip tightening on the table as he strings the words together.

I m n O t t h a t s t r o n g

an awful lie, followed by

w h a t a m I h I d i n g f r o M

Loki exhales and rips the pages from the book, shoving them into his pocket and throwing the damaged copy aside. He’s moving to another shelf, reaching for a book to reply with when his eye catches that of his mother as she passes by. Her shoulder brushes gently against his as she moves to stand next to him, staring over the sea of books along the shelves.

“You’re stressed,” she comments, looking over him. “Is something bothering you?”

“No, no, nothing,” he mutters in return. Frigga looks at him skeptically. “I promise, mother. It’s just that I’m a bit-”

“Don’t lie to me, dear,” she interrupts, reaching into her pocket. Loki’s eyes follow her hand, and she sets a small key on the shelf in front of him, smiling slightly. “It’s perfectly alright to worry about someone. Especially when that person may be in danger.”

She knows.

Loki just stares, first at the key, then at his mother. He opens his mouth and then closes it, and then says: “How long have you...”

“How could I not?” She finishes for him. “Your eyes light up when you speak of someone you care about.”

There’s a heavy silence.

“Thank you,” he says.

“Don’t thank me until after you find what you’re looking for,” she replies.

Then she turns, and she’s gone.

Loki picks up the key, leaves the books, and rushes to his room to prepare for the worst.

Frostbitten Tags:

@natalia-rushman @what-inspirational-name @jessiejunebug @fandomdestroyer @a-new-schematic @iris-suoh

#loki x reader #Loki Laufeyson #loki x reader fluff #loki (marvel)#marvel

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