R.C. Tales

 Loki lounges back, boots up, smirk dialed to maximum mischief, twirling a tiny flame between his fingers. “Ohhhh you’re going to love this one. A story of heroism, rebellion, and consequences so extreme they make my punishments look like spa treatments. And trust me, I’ve had some creative punishments.” He leans in dramatically. “This one isn’t about me for once, shocking, I know, but about another professional troublemaker. A Titan named Prometheus. And when I say he stole something dangerous, I don’t mean a cookie from the divine pantry. I mean f ire . From Zeus . Yes. That Zeus.” He gives the audience a look, the “you cannot possibly be that stupid” look. “Let’s Help Mortals!” — Mistake Number One “So picture this,” Loki begins, waving a hand. “Mortals huddled in caves, freezing, clueless, trying to eat raw meat, oh the salmonella was tragic. And the other gods? Doing nothing. Just lounging, posing, throwing lightning for dramatic effect.” A fake gasp. “But Prometh...

A story of a mother’s Love and son’s Loyalty Today I will be telling you a story of a mother’s love and a son’s loyalty. Parvati already had two children a daughter and a son. But both were away: her son was training hard, and her daughter was deep in tapasya. She was alone, feeling the quiet of her home. She wanted another son, one just for herself. So, with turmeric paste from her own hands, she made a boy. She breathed life into him, and that boy was Ganesha. A few years later, when the boy was about ten years of age, Shiva returned with his ganas. Parvati was having a bath, and she had told the little boy, “Make sure no one comes this way.” The boy had never seen Shiva, so when he came, the boy stopped him. But Ganesha stood his ground and said, “My mother is so beautiful look at her yourself. You can’t be my father. You must not come in.” Nandi and many gods tried to convince Ganesha. “He is your father,” they said. “Let him in.” But Ganesha didn’t listen. When Indra, th...

Hello, and welcome. If you’ve been following R.C. Tales , you know this is a place where myths, imagination, and stories collide. But now, there’s a new corner of this universe waiting for you: RC Tales Exclusive . This is where I share original myth-fiction stories —the tales that exist only in the world I’ve been building. Here, you’ll find characters, worlds, and legends that are too raw, strange, or experimental to appear anywhere else. If you love mythology, epic adventures, and stories that push the boundaries of imagination, this is the place for you. How to Access RC Tales Exclusive It’s simple. From the home page of RC Tales : Look at the top of the page where it says “RC TALES” in big letters. Under that, you’ll see a link labeled “Exclusive” . Click it, and you’ll be taken straight to the exclusive stories waiting for you. Think of it as a hidden door, a doorway into stories that aren’t just told—they demand to be experienced. I’m excited for you to explore this...

Loki leans back, juggling a golden apple in one hand. “Ah, now here’s a tale where I, umm! Let’s say, got a little too clever for my own good. And by ‘clever,’ I mean terribly, terribly unlucky.” He sighs dramatically. “Mortals and their obsession with ‘facts.’ Honestly, where’s the fun in that?” “But Loooki, cite your sources!” “You see, the gods of Asgard? They aren’t the youthful, radiant warriors you imagine at least, not without a little help . That help came from Idunn, keeper of the golden apples of immortality. One bite, and poof! Wrinkles gone, back pain vanished, warrior strength restored! And guess who managed to lose them? That’s right me.” Loki chuckles nervously, twirling the apple in his fingers. “It started with a little trip outside Asgard. I was wandering  minding my own business  when a rather unpleasant eagle swooped down and snatched me up like a rabbit. Now, eagles don’t normally kidnap tricksters, so this wasn’t just any bird. It was Thjazi, a jotunn wit...

 Loki leans against a rock, staring into the fire. The embers glow like dying stars, flickering, fading just like the world once did. He exhales, tilting his head. "You already know how my son, Fenrir, broke free. Good. But Ragnarök? Oh, that was so much more. Let me tell you how the world really burned." “ Alright, the young kid told me to add this historical fact. Are you happy now? In any case, I still believe that the version in which I began Ragnarok by stealing Thor's left sock was better. Whatever. ” The first sign wasn’t the war. No, no. The first sign was the wolves. Sköll and Hati , my dear little hunters, had been chasing the sun and moon since the beginning of time. And on that fated day, they finally caught them. With a snap of their jaws, the sky went black. No warmth, no light just endless night stretching across the Nine Realms. And oh, how the world panicked! They always thought the gods would protect them, that Odin would always sit on his golden throne...

Loki leans back, stretching his arms with a sigh. “Ah, now this is a story worth telling. One of chaos, revenge, and the end of all things. My dear son, Fenrir trapped, betrayed, bound like an animal. But even the strongest chains break, little listeners. And when they do…” he grins, eyes flickering like fire, “all of Asgard burns.” ” He whispered in a low voice "Ragnarok!"  The First Sign Loki sad and excited at the same time "For centuries, Fenrir lay bound in Gleipnir , that cursed ribbon of lies, deep beneath the earth. The gods thought themselves clever, tricking him, taking my son’s trust and feeding him betrayal. Tyr, that noble fool, paid the price with his hand but was that enough? No. The wolf's rage simmered, growing stronger with every passing year.  First, Fimbulwinter winter so long and harsh that even the bravest warriors froze in their sleep. No crops, no warmth, only the endless, biting cold. Then, the great tree  Yggdrasil  trembled, shaking i...

Loki sat by the fire, a little sad running a hand through his hair. His usual trickster smile was there, but softer more tired and sadder. He turned his gaze to the flames, watching them dance and eat everything which ignites it like the character of this story. "Tonight, little listeners, I’ll tell you a story not of warriors or gods, but of a son.  My  son." "He let out a slow breath, the firelight flickering against his sharp features. "A son I could not protect." A Pup Too Large for Their Comfort "The gods, in all their wisdom, have a habit of fearing what they do not understand. And fear? It turns even the mightiest into cowards." Loki tilted his head, eyes narrowing slightly. "When Fenrir was born, he was no monster. He was a pup, warm and full of life. A child who, despite his size, only ever wanted to be accepted. But the gods looked at him and saw not a son, not a brother only a prophecy waiting to unfold." He clenched his jaw for a...

Seated on a rock by the eternal fire. Not Stolen! Loki; yes him, with glinting eyes that were filled with mischief. “Now, my dear listeners, today’s tale isn’t about your ordinary squabble between gods and mortals. Oh no, this is the Gigantomachy, the war where the gods squared off against some very, very angry Giants. And believe me, these weren’t your garden-variety big folk. No, these were monstrosities with jagged stone skin, fire in their eyes, and a penchant for destruction. If you think I’m chaotic, well, they’d make me look like a house macaque. Hey is that a word? Whatever!” He leaned forward, lowering his voice to a playful whisper. “So, why the battle? Well, the Giants, born of Gaia herself yes, Mother Earth, thought they could kick the Olympians off their shiny little thrones. Typical. You give someone a little height, and they think they’re rulers of the cosmos.” Straightening up, Loki gestured grandly. “And then there was Zeus. Ah, that old lightning guy yes, I’ll ...

Loki, seated by a roaring eternal fire, smirks and waves a hand as if drawing you closer. “Dear listeners, today I’m going to tell you five stories about gods or as I like to call them, fakies , fighting somebody. That’s all they do, isn’t it? Fight, pretend to be noble, and then cry when everything falls apart. But don’t worry, I’m not here to glorify them. I’ll tell you what really happened. Let’s start with the Titanomachy . Sounds like a time between titans and mechs, Titan 'o Machy Clock. Doesn’t it? It’s just a fancy word for ‘family dispute.’ A tale of betrayal, thunder, and a throne soaked in fear. Shall we?” The Titanomachy Loki pokes the fire lazily, watching sparks rise into the air. “Ah, the Titans! A bit like me, ambitious, powerful, and more than a little chaotic. They thought their reign eternal, unshakable. But that’s the thing about power: it breeds rebellion. Cronus, their so-called king, was a fool who thought he could escape fate by devouring his children. A cl...

 Long ago, before the gods of Olympus, Asgard, or Heaven ruled the realms, there existed a hidden place between the folds of chaos and order. This realm, known as Kreion , was the forge of destiny, where all threads of life were spun, woven, and cut. Three ancient beings, the Moirae , presided over it—Clotho, the Spinner; Lachesis, the Weaver; and Atropos, the Cutter. Together, they governed the fates of mortals and gods alike. But fate, as it turned out, could not be controlled so easily. It began when Clotho, while spinning the threads of life, discovered a single thread unlike any other. It shimmered with a dark, almost ethereal glow, pulsing with an energy that seemed to resist her touch. It was not mortal, nor godly, but something in between. “What is this?” she whispered, her voice echoing through the vast halls of Kreion. Her sisters approached. Lachesis, her fingers skilled in weaving the tapestry of existence, studied the thread closely. “It is unyielding,” she said, her b...

 Hello, and welcome to R.C. Tales , a corner of the internet where mythology, fiction, and creativity collide! My name is Rudra Chaprana., and I’m excited to share my journey as a storyteller with you. This blog is more than just a platform for sharing stories it's a gateway into worlds of wonder, conflict, and imagination. Every tale you’ll find here is crafted with a love for mythology, a fascination with cosmic balance, and a deep desire to explore what makes us human. Why  This Blog? I believe storytelling is a powerful way to connect with people, to inspire them, and to explore ideas that transcend time and culture. This blog serves as a space where I can share my passion for writing, test ideas, and build a community of readers who enjoy thought-provoking stories. If you’re someone who loves mythology, complex characters, and epic tales, you’re in the right place! What’s Next? To kick things off, I’ll be posting a few original short stories that tie into the themes of Th...