father of giants

Loki and Children

I have been having some thoughts about the original mythological Loki and the thought that has been on my mind most is this:

Loki is

1. Surprisingly great with kids

2. Is addicted to parenthood

Let me explain.

As to the first bit, well, yeah, it’s surprising. Or it should be at first glance. Because, seriously, this is fucking Loki. Standing in close proximity to him for longer than a minute is bound to result in theft, arson, a splash of bloodshed for color, and at least one confused party waking up in bed with the fucker. He’s a chaotic, manic, and generally hazardous force to be reckoned with.

To us. That is, adults.

Mortals, gods, giants, trolls, dwarves, et cetera–but only those who are mature.* *Read: there is Something to be Gained from conning, seducing, or otherwise messing with us. Whether it’s to save his own skin, or to get some sweet petty vengeance, or to steal a bauble, or to satisfy some carnal itch, or to just fuck up somebody’s day for the Hel of it, Loki only ever targets those he can take something worthwhile from. 

And what is there to take from kids? 

Plenty of folks on his extremely extensive Enemies List have children, of course. No one in the Norse mythos was especially mindful of dropping their seed. So. Children.

Children–easy to fool, easy to make a hostage, easy to charm and siphon their parents’ secrets and treasures from–should be great big bullseyes to the God of Mischief and Trickery and Assorted Other Unscrupulous Things. Yet there isn’t a single Edda or snippet of lore in which Loki makes cruel use of them. Not once. 

But what’s the big deal? Most of the rude and/or villainous characters in Norse mythology don’t bother with harassing kids either. Except in the case of stories like Loka Táttur.

Loka Táttur is a tale about how a farmer loses a bet with a vicious troll who swears to kill the farmer’s little boy. The farmer calls upon three gods in turn. Odin, Hoenir, and Loki. Odin and Hoenir both disguise the boy and hide him away, but the troll is too clever and each time manages to sniff out the boy’s hiding place. Ultimately it is Loki who hides the kid–pulling an Idunn-in-a-Nutshell gag and hiding him as a speck on the eye of a flounder in the water–and then, rather than stepping back as Odin and Hoenir did from their work, he sits in his boat and lets the troll see him.

The troll, being suspicious, asks what Loki’s business is. Only fishing, obviously. The troll demands to join him. Lo and behold, they bring up a wealth of flounders, including the one where the boy’s hidden. Loki manages to change the boy back to his true shape and hide the kid behind his back without the troll noticing. As Loki brings the boat back to shore, and to the farmer’s boathouse with the latter’s doors open, Loki tells the boy to run through the boathouse. He goes, the troll gives chase, and the troll becomes wedged in the entryway. 

At which point Loki proceeds to chop off the troll’s legs and stick an iron stake in the bastard’s skull. Then he walks the kid back home. The grand payoff for Loki after all this? 

The boy is safe. The troll is dead. The End.


Now, much as Loki may have been the catalyst for a lot of corpses pre-Ragnarok–see his business with Thor getting his hammer back and leading more than one giant into a death trap–Loki is actually very rarely, if ever, one to get his hands dirty by killing a victim himself. Even Baldr was done in by an arrow he aimed with blind Hod’s fingers. So why did Loki personally orchestrate this plan in such a grisly way? For what gain?

What, other than the satisfaction of personally slaughtering the would-be child-killing prick troll?

In a less bloody narrative, we see his hand in getting Thialfi and Roskva, a pair of mortal siblings, taken into Thor’s service. While the exact ages of the two aren’t mentioned, they are young enough to still be in the care of their parents. When Thor and Loki are travelling it’s their father who invites them under their roof. Thor’s goats are slaughtered for the evening meal and–in some tellings–it is Loki who entices the son, Thialfi, into breaking a leg bone to taste the marrow. When morning comes and Thor resurrects his goats, one has a broken leg.

Thor’s visibly pissed—never ever a good thing–and so the family offers to make some compensation.

Loki, coughing through his hand: ThialfibroketheboneheshouldpledgeservicetoThor

Thialfi: Uh–

Loki, clearing his throat: Alsotakethesistertwoforonedeal

Rosvka: But I didn’t do anything—

Loki, en sotto voce: Kids, consider your options. Teensy mortal lifetime of toil on Midgard, harvesting dirt and snow on one hand. Potentially immortal lifetime, I don’t know, scrubbing giant blood off Mjolnir in Thor’s hall on Asgard on the other. Verdict?

Both: Sold.

Loki: Excellent! Really, Thor, you’re a master dealmaker, a born barterer, I’m in awe.

Thor: Wh—


Cue laugh track.

Point being, Loki has been shown to purposefully go out of his way to help kids because…because. Yet how does this translate to the idea of him being good with kids?

I ask this purely hypothetically and am trying not to laugh as I do, because really. Really. How in the hell is a kid not going to be entertained by the Norse god of revelry and recreation?

Oh yeah, that bit’s often left off the résumé.

Loki, God of Mischief, is also God of Recreation. Play, in other words. Because playtime is a thing that is Chaotic rather than a product of Order, and so Loki is naturally all over it. There are some who even credit him with having added that trait to the first humans, Ask and Embla, while Odin, Vili, and Vé were carving them and breathing character into their souls.

On top of that, he’s also the god of flyting—poetic shit-talking.

So we have a shapeshifting, storytelling, magic-wielding, game-spinning, trickster god who can also teach young ears every bad word they could ever hope to learn, and he’s expected not to be a hit with kids? This is all without even mentioning the fact that Loki is a bit of a hyperactive attention hog all on his own. What better audience for him than a gaggle of credulous little onlookers who are too young to sneer at his antics rather than take delight in them? Children are wee balls of mischief themselves, muddled in with imagination and wonder and an eagerness to be wowed or made to laugh themselves into weeping.

All of which brings me to point number two:

Loki is a kidaholic.

Like, even though a lot of his and/or her sleeping around the Realms can be chalked up to an insane libido, there’s also just the sheer number of kids they’ve produced to factor in. Maybe more than even Odin or Thor could boast. At least half being born from Loki herself. Not because Loki was helpless against the workings of nature—it’s impossible to believe that Loki wasn’t smart enough or powerful enough to get around producing new Lokisons and Lokisdottirs with every other bedmate—but because Loki wants more kids. There will never be enough kids.

The guy’s got a case of severe paternal/maternal hoarding going on. I mean

Loki: I need another one.

Odin: You really don’t.

Loki: You’re right. I need two other ones.

Odin: I am positive that you do not.

Loki: Three. Triplets. Need them. Right now.

Odin: Loki.

Loki: Four? Four. Definitely four.

Odin: Loki, please.

Loki: Yeah, let’s go with four. I can give or get. I’ll flip a coin.

Odin: Loki, as Allfather, I am expressly forbidding you to impregnate or be impregnated for at least a century.

Loki: Fine.

Odin: …

Loki: …I’ll settle for three.

Odin: What did I just say?

Loki: Three’s a good number, isn’t it? All good things come in threes. You and your brothers—

Odin, fighting an aneurysm: You and your brothers—

Loki: So you agree!

Odin: I did not—

Loki: Three it is!

Odin: Loki—

Loki: Be back when I feel like it

Odin: Loki

Loki: Give my love to Sleipnir

Odin: LOKI—

Loki, pantsless, vaulting over the wall, cartwheeling towards Jötunheimr’s Ironwood forest: Bye

It’s in that Ironwood that he meets Angrboda and fathers a giant wolf, a giant snake, and the literal corpse-faced queen-goddess of the dead by her. Being that Loki’s scope of attractiveness/aesthetic acceptability is elastic enough to let all sorts of species between his legs, I find it hard to believe that his kids’ unique looks would repulse or even faze him. They’re his children. Therefore they’re great.

And we all know how that happy family ended up. Ditto his second family with Sigyn and his two little twin boys.

Enter Ragnarok, warfare, general Bad Times, and so on.


Comical as it is to envision a Loki who cringes at the notion of parenthood and/or fears his more monstrous children, I just don’t believe it lines up with what we know of the Loki of myth.

Myth Loki is a god who would spend hours entertaining a child, simply entertained that the child is entertained.

Myth Loki is also a god who would hunt down and methodically dismember whichever idiot thought it would be okay to make a child cry within said god’s earshot.

another family photo ruined.

Can we talk about how Joey Tribbiani is such a wholesome loyal great character? As much as he’s a lady killer, he’s also just a decent person who doesn’t go behind his friends backs or anything. Like when Rachel was pregnant and planning to move out, he made a baby’s “room” for the baby, he told Rachel how he didn’t care about the noise and a baby hanging around and all around ready to change his lifestyle to help with the baby. And then he takes her out on a date when she says she misses dating. And when he falls for her he is nothing but respectful to her and Ross. He feels guilty that he is in love with Rachel bc of Ross even though Ross and Rachel hadn’t dated for five years. He wants to be a father to Rachel’s kid, like he’s ready to give up his bachelor lifestyle for that, even dreams of it. He takes her to the hospital and worries about her and asks the doctor questions about her health and then Ross rushes in and is an ass and even then Joey tries to make Ross feel better when Joey is believed to be the father. Mostly this is a giant post about how Rachel x Ross sucks and how she belonged to be with Joey.


I saw them sneaking out last night, so I followed them. I don’t know how if they’ve been sneaking out like this in the last few days but I’m getting to the bottom of it. It was a very dangerous and risky move, and they almost got hurt! Luckly I was there to stop it before they came to any harm and they didn’t realize I was watching, so I’m going to give them a strict talking to.

ssenbonzakuraa  asked:

what would hela think of thorki? :P

honestly, i think she’d just roll her eyes and be nonchalant about it. i’d imagine she’s seen ALL SORTS OF NONSENSE in the royal family, so finding out that thor and loki bang wouldn’t faze her at all lol

if anything, she’d be like “ohhh. that explains so much. the borrson line always did have A Thing for frost giants.”

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Fandom: Marvel

Warnings: Smut (NSFW), Fluff , Love

Words: 2,028

Requested: Hello! I would like to request a Loki x reader 💖 It’s Loki’s and the reader’s wedding night, they go back to Loki’s chambers and they get down and dirty for the first time ;) but the reader is very nervous because it’s there first time. And Loki is doing his best to make her feel loved and safe. Thank you 💖

A/N: Hey, Lovelies. this is my first Loki x reader, sorry if it’s bad and sorry for any misspelled or errors, but I really hope you enjoy it!! :) 

                                   Request are closed for now!

You were standing in a plain white room, standing on a pedestal while the maids fixing your long elegant green dress as they were done fixing your dress, you were now looking at yourself in the mirror.

Your (h/l) (h/c) locks were braided back from your face, not a single strand out of place. Queen Frigga had passed onto you a beautiful silver necklace and crown with amber gems in the center of both.

Today was your wedding day, you were excited and nervous at the same time. You were marrying the love of your life, Loki was your best friend, when you grow a liking to the young prince and that liking turn in love as years passed you both finally confess love for each other.

Your father and two guards came into white room as the maids leave. You walked away from the mirror as your father came over kisses your cheek.

“You look magnificent, darling. you’re mother would be so proud of you” your father says, you smiled.

You took your father’s arm as the two guards escort you and your father to the throne room.

You both walked the whole way in silence, you already had a single tear trickling down your face. At this moment you were so happy, you wouldn’t want to change it for anything. You and father pause at the giant double doors, you took a deep breath.

The two guards push them open, you were met with those beautiful blue eyes and thousand others, as you and your father walk down the aisle. Odin and Frigga on his throne, The Warriors Three stood to the side as the groom’s men, and Lady Sif was your maid of honor.

Frigga smiled softly at you as you and your father made it down the aisle, you were now in front of Loki who had a cute smirk on his face as he wearing his golden crown and green and gold cape.

“You look….STUNNING” Loki says looking you up and down, you blushed as Odin moved swiftly through the ceremony. When the time for “I dos”

“Do you, Loki, take Y/N L/N to be your wife, To be her constant friend, her partner in life, and her true love? To love her without reservation, honor and respect her, protect her from harm, comfort her in times of distress, and to grow with her in mind and spirit? Odin says, Loki smiles "I do”

“And Do you, Y/N, take Loki Laufeyson to be your husband, To be his constant friend, his partner in life, and his true love?. To love him without reservation, honor and respect him, protect him from harm, comfort him in times of distress, and to grow with him in mind and spirit?

"I do” you smiled. “As I Odin, pronounce you husband and wife,” Odin stated.

“You may kiss the bride.” You were wrapped up in Loki’s arms and pressed against his chest. His lips pressed to yours with all the love and tenderness he could manage, his hands holding your hips. More cheers and applause flowed through the room as he held you close.

You both pulled away, and walked down the aisle. You and Loki were finally husband and wife.

You and you’re now husband Loki were walking hand in hand to his Chambers, Loki had got you away early to have some alone time, Loki promised that he would take you somewhere special for the honeymoon. you honest don’t care if you both went anywhere or not, you were just happy you got to stolen his last name.

When you both got to Loki’s room, immediately Loki made a “do not disturb” sign with his magic. He whisked you up off of your feet and carried me in, shutting the door behind him. He sat you down gently.

Loki’s arms came up to your waist, his fingers slipping softly down them. “I can’t believe that you’re mine now, Mrs. Laufeyson ”

“Me too, Mr. Laufeyson” you reply blushing. Loki chuckles as he pulled me into him and stealing a kiss.

Soon that small kiss turned into more, and you both slid across the floor to the bed, the back of your legs hit the frame of the bed. Loki let a smile paint across his face and his hands went to the back of your dress and slide zipper down, He turned you around and started to slide each little bit off, kissing the skin that would be exposed.

Keep reading


The legend never dies! 

This is the first half of the batch I’ve been working on. I decided to split them up into two groups because, unfortunately, my airbrush broke before I could finish painting all the masks. When the second half will be finished depends on when the replacement parts for my airbrush arrive.

An angsty fic that no one asked for

(Because I’ve been watching some of my favourite movie scenes tonight, one of them being the powerful as fuck scene from Good Will Hunting, I felt like writing some abuse-victim!Murdoc. This can be interpreted as 2doc but also not. There’s just 2D comforting him and giving him a hug.)

WARNING: Contains mention and description of abuse.

Useless, that’s what you are, you little shitstain,” Sebastian’s voice was stern and Murdoc felt himself gripping at the hand that wrapped around his throat. It was unbelievable how tight it could feel around his neck, squeezing him so his tongue felt too big for his mouth. The last word echoed in his head, being repeated over and over again like some kind of chanting that made Murdoc’s skin crawl and the hand feel impossibly tighter. Nails were digging into his skin now and he felt tears form at the corners of his eyes, not able to help them stop from spilling down his cheeks. He wasn’t sure if the tears were from the choking or the feelings running through his body at the moment but he hoped to everything between heaven and hell that it wasn’t the latter. He knew better than not to shut everything off when his father’s drunken rage took over. His voice was heard again, “Useless and nothing more, couldn’t even earn me some goddamn money. All you had to do was play your part and start singing. I thought music was your passion?” Murdoc’s eyes widened as he felt his vision go blurry, suddenly seeing his father grow into a giant before him until he felt like an ant in his hand. The words were still repeating and Murdoc looked up to find himself standing in his father’s palm, fingers closing down over him like he had done to tiny and helpless bugs when he was a kid.

Murdoc sat up quickly, panting heavily and reaching for his throat. He looked around, concluding that he was in his bedroom, alone and not with his father anywhere near him. Still, it didn’t soothe him at all and his heartbeat didn’t calm down in the slightest.

It was the fourth time this week, and it was only Friday night, that he had woken up by nightmares. They had started already when he was a child but for some reason, they were becoming more frequent and vivid. He connected it to his decreasing amount of alcohol abuse, it might have started making his mind more clear. A couple of years ago, he would’ve been too drunk to even dream but now was different.

Murdoc bent his legs, resting his head on his knees and quietly counted to ten. He desperately wanted a drink, fingers twisting in the sheets at the thought of a nice glass of whiskey or rum. He breathed shallowly, closing his eyes but quickly opening them again as the picture of his father was still shown as a slideshow behind his eyelids, “Fuck…”

A knock was heard on the door and Murdoc lay down as fast a he could, clearing his throat, “Come on in.”

“Hey, can’t sleep?” It was 2D, leaning against the doorframe. He was still dressed, didn’t look at all as if he had been sleeping.

“Why do you ask?” Murdoc questioned, sitting up again and pulling the cover down to expose himself to the warm room.

“Bad dream?” 2D simply urged on and it was confirmed to Murdoc that he had heard him, how much noise had he been making? 2D tilted his head, “You were screaming again, just wanted to check on you. I brought you a glass of-”



“Fine, bring it over here.”

2D walked to the bed and held out a glass, that clearly was crizzling, filled with cold water from the tap. He handed it to Murdoc, who gulped a large amount of it in one go and then placed it on the bedside table.

“Thank you, Dents,” he said, looking anywhere else but at him. He swung his legs out over the edge of the bed, figuring that what he needed was to walk around for a little bit.

“What did you dream?” 2D asked before Murdoc could stand from the bed, moving back and forth on his heels. Murdoc looked up at him with a raised brow and stayed silent. 2D raised a brow in return, “Well?”

“Errh, my father,” he finally replied, losing eye contact with him, “You know how it is.”

“You never talk about him or the dreams so no,” 2D sighed, sitting down beside him.

Murdoc narrowed his eyes, reaching grab his lighter and pull a cigarette out of a package that laid on his nightstand. He put it to his lips and lit it, taking a long drag and then exhaled, “What is there to say? It’s just nightmares.”

“But is there anything you want to say?” 2D tilted his head, “It must’ve been.. difficult or somefink.”


“Oh okay.”

There was a long pause, none of them saying anything at all. The only sound was the sound of Murdoc’s exhales as he smoked his cigarette, occasionally offering 2D a drag. Suddenly, Murdoc changed his mind and broke the silence.

“He beat me, 2D, he beat the everliving shit out of me, and I can’t stop seeing him in my dreams. He won’t leave me alone, and the cigarettes…” He remembered it all very vividly, how his father had humiliated him, blamed him for everything and put cigarettes out on his skin. Murdoc felt his throat constrict, causing him to swallow hard and feeling pathetic for rambling, “What’s wrong with me? Why did he hate me so much?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Muds,” 2D quickly interrupted, sitting down besides him, “Do you understand that? Nothing is wrong with you.”

“A lot of shit is wrong with me, don’t you fucking give me that crap,” Murdoc automatically pulled further away from him, there was no way 2D was getting to him in the middle of the night, “Don’t you try and tell me there isn’t.”

“Okay, there’s a lot of stuff wrong with you.”

“Sod off.”

“All I’m saying is… what he did to you, it’s not your fault.” The sentence made Murdoc’s stomach drop, and a weird feeling bubbled up inside of his chest.

“What? Don’t you think I know? He was a poor excuse for a human being, if he could even be considered that,” he huffed in response, hand running through his black hair.

“No, you don’t,” 2D said, turning towards him as Murdoc turned further away, “You don’t understand it, it’s not your fault, Murdoc.”

“What are you now? My therapist?” Murdoc snarled, the feeling spreading throughout his body. It felt like panic and he could feel his body tense up at the sudden emotion.

“No, Murdoc,” 2D soothed, reaching out for him but Murdoc flinched as if burnt, “Look at me, please. It’s not you and it’s not your fault. Never was and never will be.”

Murdoc turned towards him for the first time and his emotions, which had bubbled up inside of him, were released by pushing 2D hard into the wooden head of the bed. He whimpered, holding his shoulders tightly but otherwise didn’t show any new emotion. Instead, he sat up again and looked at Murdoc sympathetically, “Murdoc. You know I’m right, don’t you?”

Murdoc looked down, feeling tears well up his eyes and the worst part was that he had no idea how such a simple choice of words could have such an effect on him. He mostly blamed it on his loss of proper sleep, not wanting to admit what it really was; the first time someone had said such a thing to him.

“It’s okay,” 2D said and Murdoc felt a hand being placed on his back, “Muds, it’s okay to be angry, I know you are and I am too sometimes.”

Murdoc finally gave in to his touch and leaned into him, placing his head on his shoulder and felt all the emotional stress being released once again in just two minutes, “I’m so tired, Stuart, of everything.”

“I know, Muds,” 2D’s hand slowly ran up and down his back, “It’s okay.”

“No, it isn’t. It’s not okay,” he shook his head, suddenly feeling smaller than ever. Nobody ever said these things.

“I know, but it is what it is,” 2D continued, feeling  a wet patch form on his shoulder due to tears dripping onto his shirt, “And that’s okay.”

Murdoc could feel his whole body tremble in the singer’s arms and somehow it was okay, just for a moment, to be fucked up. 2D gripped at him and pushed him to sit again but before Murdoc could say anything to it, 2D had pulled him in for a hug and it was only then that Murdoc started crying for real. He sobbed, face in the crook of 2D’s neck and arms around his waist, and it was the best feeling he had had in years. The most real feeling in forever.


None of them were sure of how much time passed after that but Murdoc nearly fell asleep on him, making 2D squirm uncomfortably underneath him. When the singer tried to leave, Murdoc begged him to stay and 2D ended up sleeping on the floor. When they both were tucked in and ready to sleep, 2D smiled, “Don’t worry, Murdoc, I’m not gonna leave you.”