Loki Jotun Novels & Stories

I didn’t know what to say if I was supposed to say anything at all. But there was no doubt in my mind that this was real; this was not Toke. I saw it, felt it, and smelled it. Loki, what a strange name. Suddenly, my eyes widened; Loki! Like the freaking trickster god Loki? He chuckled, leaned back, and started dragging his fingers through his hair. Looking down at himself, he wrinkled his nose while trying to adjust the collar of his shirt—or rather, the missing collar of his shirt.

Peter "Sure," he said. "Whatever you want to call him. I guess it just depends on which version of the story you want to go by, though I bet you'll be interested to know that the figure in mythology is supposed to be like a brother to Loki." I blinked at him. He gave me a nonplussed look. "Loki, father of Fenrir, Jormangadr, and Hel?" He paused. "And the eight-legged horse, but let's not get involved with that."

Still by cunning, Loki offered to bring Hoder the ash trunk that he would use to shape the new Baldur, the magnificent and beloved god. Loki brought him a crooked trunk with a huge bump that he hid behind a veil of deception. Hoder spent moons molding a Man who would resemble his twin brother. And when finished, Loki led Hoder to the room where Odin was lying, after making him look like Frigg, Odin's wife. Hoder then put Odin's hand on his statue and it received the breath of life.

That deity is Loki, the trickster God. Koren wasn’t just after power—he was trying to open that seal with one of my children and gain Loki's favor. And if he succeeded, he wouldn’t just be unstoppable… the world itself might never be safe again. My head was buzzing with too many thoughts to sleep. I needed to see my babies—to reassure myself that they were safe and close. The nursery was dim, lit only by the warm glow of a single enchanted lantern. The soft sound of lullaby magic filled the air. Triny and Zoria had been rotating night shifts, so I wasn’t surprised to find one of them moving quietly about.

Who the fuck is this bastard. ‘Who is this jackass Duron?’ I link him and hope he has a clear enough head to respond as he can see the damage he is causing. ‘Fenrir son of Loki the god of mischief.’ Duron links back, growling. Great this asshole comes from the gods. Cyrus

Jackson motioned to the man driving the car. "And this is Jesok," he says. "Oh, hello, brother Jesok!" Loki said, smiling at himself in the mirror. "Hello, Sir, nice to meet you," Jesok replied, pleased that Loki had greeted him in such a cheerful and friendly manner. "Please don't call me Sir; everyone is treating me like an old man; it's not cute," Loki exclaimed, causing them to burst out laughing. "Hello, Sir Loki, my name is Sujin."

He couldn’t rise again. “Tell me,” I whispered, more to myself than to Matteo, “you don’t think it’s him.” Matteo didn’t answer immediately. His fingers curled into fists at his sides. The tension in his jaw was enough. “We don’t know,” he finally muttered. “And we’re not jumping to conclusions.” But the fear in his eyes betrayed him. Loki, the Blood King. The one whose thirst had drowned villages in blood. The one who defied death so many times, our ancestors had to turn to forbidden rites to bury him.

Tears streamed down her face, and she couldn’t contain her sobs, at the sight of Thor lying bloodied on the floor. “I won’t hurt Nick,” he hissed. “He’s the brother of the devil, and I’m sure my actions will please both him and his brother.” “Drago doesn’t care about you,” he whispered menacingly in her ear, “You will be my sacrifice to him, you will see,” Madchen stilled herself for a moment.What the hell was he talking about, the devil. He had lost his everloving mind, she ascertained, and she was to be the target of Jason’s maniacal fantasies.

Ash turns cautiously. Five people emerge calmly from the tall grass. At the very front, a red-haired young man walks toward us while casually spinning a small flame in his palm. His sharp eyes lock onto our team. “Well, look who’s crawling around on the ground like worms,” the young man says mockingly. Damian grits his teeth. “Loki. Why does it have to be you, asshole?” The young man, Loki, laughs sarcastically. He snaps his fingers, and a wall of fire rises around us, making the prehistoric birds hesitate to attack again.