🗞️ The Immortal Gazette Presents: The Savage Fall of Fenrir
Filed under: End-of-the-World Shenanigans, God-Eating Wolves, and Unapologetic Chaos
“OH no, honey. You do not come for Allfather energy unless you’re ready for the clapback of a millennium,” Alice declared, sipping her twilight-charged tea with the elegance of a mad queen and the nerve of a battle-hardened banshee.
“You say that now,” Loki drawled from his chaise lounge made of half-stolen thunderclouds and questionable intent. “But I seem to recall that my son did, in fact, chow down on dear old Odin like he was a pickled herring at a Midgardian tavern.”
“Oh, we’re starting there? Really?” Rumplestiltskin cackled, twirling his cane like a conductor prepping for a chaotic symphony. “No foreplay, no poetic tension - just BAM! Grandpapa devoured by the big bad wolf? Delightful.”
Alice stood up, swirling her skirts like a storm cloud laced with ink and moonlight. “Let’s reel it in, tricksters. The mortals want the saga. The epic. The gore-glazed glory. So let me ink this one proper before you two hijack the narrative into a circus act. Again.”
The Howl That Broke the Sky: The Day Fenrir Ate Odin
It was the twilight hour of gods - Ragnarok, that cataclysmic finale where prophecy and pride collided. The realms burned, oceans boiled, and the sky split like parchment under a flaming quill.
And Fenrir, the monstrous wolf-son of Loki (who was absolutely not grounded enough as a child), had grown beyond comprehension. Hulking, hateful, and radiating primal vengeance, he tore through the battlefield, eyes glowing like twin eclipses.
Across the shattered plains, Odin rode into battle, spear in hand, cloak whipping like the banners of destiny. He knew what the Seeresses had said. Knew the end was written. But Odin was never one to back down from prophecy - he dared it to bleed.
And bleed it did.
Fenrir lunged, jaws opening wider than logic, snapping around the Allfather like fate itself chewing through arrogance. It was fast. Brutal. Undeniable.
The gods screamed. The cosmos shook. And for a moment, it looked like the wolf had won.
But oh no. This tale wasn’t finished.
Vidar: The Silent Vengeance
Enter Vidar - Odin’s son, quiet as a shadow, strong as the old roots of Yggdrasil itself. He hadn’t said much through all of this. No grand speeches. No flashy tricks. Just a slow, deliberate walk toward the beast that had swallowed his father.
He wore a shoe.
No, not just any shoe.
The Shoe - forged from the cast-off scraps of every shoe ever made by mortal hands, gifted unknowingly by Midgardians over centuries. One foot of fate, stomping straight into the snarling maw of apocalypse.
Vidar’s foot jammed Fenrir’s jaw open. His hands tore at the beast’s throat. And with a strength that defied the end itself, he ripped Fenrir apart - blood and fury painting the sky like war poetry.
It wasn’t elegant. It wasn’t strategic. It was raw vengeance. A god’s son avenging a god. No prophecy saw it coming quite like that.
Back at the Gazette…
“And that, my darling chaos cookies,” Alice said, snapping her fingers and letting the ink swirl back into her quill, “is how vengeance got a makeover and wore a wolf’s carcass like couture.”
Loki sighed, brushing invisible lint from his cosmic sleeves. “Yes, yes. It’s all very dramatic. But let’s not forget, dear Alice, that if Fenrir hadn’t been chained and tormented by the gods for eons, none of this would’ve happened. Actions. Consequences.”
Rumple raised a brow. “Are we blaming the gods now? Or just soft-launching your parenting failures?”
“You wound me,” Loki said, clutching his heart like the misunderstood deity he absolutely was not.
Alice rolled her eyes. “Look, the mortals can decide whose side they’re on. Team Destiny or Team Wolf-Dad. Either way, the point is - don’t mess with quiet gods in weird shoes. They’re the ones who’ll end the world and clean up after.”
Food for Thought (Not Wolves)
- Fenrir represents uncontrollable chaos. You can lock it up, but you can’t erase it.
- Vidar is proof that even in silence, power waits. And sometimes, the quiet ones come through with the wildest WWE-level divine vengeance.
- Ragnarok wasn’t just the end - it was the reset button. What comes next? That's for the survivors to shape.
And yes, Loki’s still lurking in the new world. Which means nothing is ever really over.
Filed by:
🖋️ Alice, Queen of Ink & Lore
🎭 Loki, Suspiciously Casual About the Apocalypse
🎩 Rumplestiltskin, Professional Chaos Consultant
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