Loki’s Unexpected Vendetta: The Tale of The Norns
Ah, the Norns. Those three old hags who like to pretend they’re in charge of fate itself. They think they weave the threads of destiny with their “spindles” and “spools.” Please. These so-called “weavers of fate” have no idea how tangled their own lives are. Who do they think they’re fooling? They sit around at the Well of Urd, churning out the destinies of gods and mortals alike, but let me tell you something—they are no better than me when it comes to causing chaos.
But my vendetta with them… now, that’s a tale worth telling.
It wasn’t always this way, you see. At one point, the Norns had the audacity to try to imprison me with their weaving. Oh, they thought they were clever, binding me to their twisted vision of fate, keeping me within their carefully crafted threads. The Norns, like everyone else, believed they could control me. But you can’t control Loki—especially when you think you can predict my every move.
You see, they did this whole thing, weaving threads to make my life miserable, to try and bind me to their prophecies of doom. They thought they could manipulate me into following their twisted path. They assumed, like everyone else, that I was just some foolish trickster without the power to break free from their clutches. So, they set their sights on me. They set their threads, and they wove the most dreadful fate imaginable.
Now, I may have been a bit reckless, sure. I have my moments, but do you think I’m stupid enough to just accept the fate they handed me? Oh, no. That would be too boring, even for me. They thought I was to be bound by their threads, trapped in some intricate web of fate. What they didn’t account for was my own ability to twist fate around until it practically begged for mercy.
The Norns may have thought they controlled the flow of destiny, but I showed them just how flexible those threads really are. So, I did what I do best: I messed with them. I snuck into their realm, under the cover of night, and I rewove their precious threads. Not only did I rewrite my own fate—oh, that was the easy part—but I ripped theirs to shreds.
Did I care about the consequences? Not even a little. I turned their perfectly planned threads into knots so twisted, they could never undo them. I tossed their carefully crafted prophecies into chaos, just to see how they’d react. And let me tell you—those three old crones were furious. They weren’t used to anyone disrupting their oh-so-carefully arranged destinies.
The best part? They couldn’t touch me. They couldn’t stop me. They’re all about manipulating other lives, but when it came to their own, they were powerless. So, I watched from the sidelines, sipping on my favorite drink, and enjoyed the sight of the Norns scrambling to untangle the mess I made. The great weavers of fate? They could barely handle a simple knot.
So, what’s the lesson here? Don’t think you can control the master of chaos, especially when you’re too busy thinking you’re the only one who knows how to twist the threads of fate. The Norns thought they were the puppet masters—but I showed them, didn’t I? I pulled the strings, made them dance, and left them tangled up in their own designs.
And now, whenever they try to “weave” their fate into my life? Well, they know better than to mess with me. After all, a little chaos here and there never hurt anyone, did it?
🖋️✨📜🖤
