1000 Points of Light | Sidrisa | 6 Works - 180k | Apr â16 - Oct â17
If you look, really look. If you close your mouth and open your heart and look You'll see. That just like in the darkest of nights In the darkest of hearts. You can still see starlight.
Note: (In honour of the impending release of the Loki miniseries and my sceptical optimism for it, I'm highlighting a few canon-adjacent Loki works that can pass the time between new episodes or, if you're like me, distract from new content long enough to miss the first wave of inevitable Discourse.) Without writing an essay in the description of this post, it has to be said: in the TH fandom, as in society at large, we have yet to dismantle our whtie supremacy and racism. It shows up as white fans reflexively defending media and dismissing critical analysis by people of colour; it shows up as patronising and judgmental comments towards authors and fans of colour for their "incorrect" interpretations; it shows up as insidious anti-Blackness and hostility towards Zawe Ashton. The list goes on. Sidrisa created a culture, mythos, and political background to contrast Asgard's own in Power and Magic, and sadly there's no trace of them in the Loki fandom found after 2018. I can hope their deparure wasn't due to outright harrassment but I've no way of knowing. I do know that Black Marvel fans contiuously speak out regarding the inhospitable environments in predominanly white fandoms. We as online fans may not be able to shift major systems of oppression or influence film productions, but it's well within our ability to make our online spaces less hostile. We, as white fans, need to develop a nuanced understanding of white supremacy, and we must engage in difficult conversations when we see racism in whatever form displayed in our communities.
- Read on Author's Tumblr (Inactive) | Series on AO3 -
The princes come with their exalted Father arriving amidst a hail of pomp and pageantry all parties would rather forgo.
This is war, where men die, their blood purchasing land and peace until it is time for more men and more blood to balance the ledger.
But your mother adheres to the old rules of hearth and hospitality. The Lords of Asgard must be given their due despite the grim business precipitating their arrival.
She summons you, making a sour face at your choice of dress.
âKatkat,â She calls you, her voice slipping into the comforts of your landâs mother tongue. Its closest approximation in the common language places the word on the paternal side of âbelovedâ. Inflect the vowel sounds - 'kotkot'- and you take it from paternal to romantic.
But there's nothing paternal or affectionate in her face or voice, both thunderous as the grey clouds that herald the arrival of the Lords Odin, Thor, and Loki.
âKatkat, why are you dressed thus? Did you forget our royal company?â
âI did not, manmae.â Mama you call her, you call her, your voice also lacking the warmth such an informal address implies. âI have dressed appropriate to our situation.â
You wear your leathers. Black and austere, lacking the intricate grooved patterns your people are known across the realm for. Your pastures breed the horses Odin Allfatherâs soldiers ride to war upon. Your tanners cure and cut the leather that braid their whips and saddles. Your furs fill Frigga Allmotherâs wardrobe and the treasure chests of many a noble lady. The labors of your people, while not extraordinarily luxurious, grant a small measure of wealth and with it with it autonomy that your family has held stewardship over for ageless generations of which you are the sole heir.
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