Favourite Screencaps → Octavia Blake (requested by braidedfandoms)

stãrter cãll 

my very hot take is that ( despite different genetics 😤 ) all three of the odinkids have curly hair, loki is just the only mf who puts the tiniest bit of effort into maintaining

there is only so much time left for her fate to be her own,  and yet she cannot force herself to act.  while frigga still carried this child,  while it was neither daughter nor son, hela’s paralysis might have been justified.  another daughter would not have taken the throne ⸻ the throne she has spilled her own blood to defend,  so she might one day rule the empire she has built.  the throne thor will now take from her.  she should kill him now.  she is strong enough to burn this room to the ground and walk from the ashes. it is what odin would do,  she knows.  she knows,  too,  that if she were to take his precious son from him,  he would not hesitate to tear her heart from her chest,  leave the goddess of death and his first-born child no different than the thousands of others he has slaughtered. 

she is strong,  but her father is stronger. and so hela steps into the room,  no blade in her hand.  she stops short of approaching the bed as she peers down upon the tiny blonde head that is her brother.  brother.  family.  this is something she has never had,  before.  she knows she should feel angry,  but she feels nothing but numb. so this is her replacement,  the boy odin had hoped for her to be. a golden son,  to sit upon asgard’s golden throne. 

“ and you have a son. ” 

it is not beyond her that she might have been in frigga’s position,  had her magic not been so violent and her temper not so sharp. her father would have shaped her into a weapon one way or another ---- physical or political.  could this have been her,  sitting on a bed in a land that is not her own, holding a baby she cannot bear to love,  never having known the joy of a battlefield?

but frigga loves thor,  of that hela is sure.  there is no other reason to stay.  no other reason to be asgard’s queen.  this,  too,  is how hela knows that her own mother could not have loved her.  she does not hold this against the woman. how could she,  when she would make the same choice? 

“ he’s smaller than i thought he’d be. ” bold words,  from someone who didn’t have to birth him. 

her muscles tense as the brunette enters, her posture straighter, her grip on her newborn son tighter. the headboard is cold and hard– biting through her nightgown and she must suppress a shiver as she forces a polite smile. she does not trust the girl ( though how can she call her a girl? the years that separate them are those of sisters, not mother and daughter. if hela is a child then so too is she ) and it is unfair of her, the young queen knows this.

and yet from the moment they met she could not shake the feeling of unease around hela. the urge to put distance between them. the instinct to cradle her son closer to her chest. the aesir princess’ history has cast a dark shadow, and it cannot be so easily ignored.

light eyed gaze falls to the furs covering her lap as she smooths them out, making space beside her. they are not alone. the midwives remain. his nurse waits in the corner. though she knows her son is the greatest threat to the other woman at this moment– she knows she would not be so bold in this moment. ‘ you have a brother. come meet him. ’ 

@moltenruins​ | | somewhat plotted starter

lokadottr​.

‘ i realize that and i’m sure she knows that but also i know that it will look bad if this baby is born a bit too close to my wedding anniversary. and she is going to be pissed. we’re talking grandmother being mad at uncle thor for the coke pictures level pissed…two. ’

“ mm. frigga had every right to be mad at the coke pictures. at least he had the good sense to let her believe they were staged. if your mother is pissed at you for this,  then she’s a hypocrite. congrats,  by the way. ”

lokadottr​.

‘ yes. i know! but they aren’t completely accurate so it could have been wrong…but it may happened before i got married. ’

“ i don’t think it’ll come as much of a shock to your mother that people have sex,  so . . . how many did you take? ”

“ one crisis at a time, torvi.  you think you’re pregnant?  you know they make tests for that,  right? ”

* @moltenruins​ ( starter call ) 

‘ i hope that offer to come stay with in paris is still open because mom’s still mad i eloped and i think i’m pregnant and she might kill me if i don’t flee the country. ’

~ starter call ~ 

a never-needy, ever-lovely jewel whose shine reflects on you /                    ( you.  that’s what happened. you ) 

leasung​.

What many may have recognized as cold dread in the way Hela’s seiðr felt, Loki simply felt at home. It was familiar and almost cozy. Sure it was a threat, and not an empty one. A threat that promised pain and possible death. A thought which merely tickled at the back of Loki’s mind. It would be an adventure if nothing else. 

In contrast their own seiðr felt like melting metal. Hot and sparking with any one thing touching it. Ready to catch fire if you so much as gave them a moment to latch on. Chaotic and unbridle, ready to run faster than the winds could carry should the opportunity arise. But as it were they remained a warm kind of cold. The warmth one could feel of being too cold for too long. Like burning yourself on ice. 

The spark of their seiðr merely bubbled under the surface. Pushing and prodding at the veil Hela used to claim the upper hand, as if such a thing could even be had. Eyes rolled as she reclaimed her hair, and long fingered hands was lifted in the air as Loki made a gesture of exasperation. “If he is late then we are waiting, are we not?” For once they applied logic, so one could appreciate at least the small efforts made. 

Leaning heavily into Hela’s side, as if they weren’t the taller one, and could still easily be hidden in her arms, or at least her cloak. they showed a… well let’s just call it mischievous smile. Scarred lips parting slightly to show a little bit of teeth. “Ridiculous or not at least I have more fun than you seem to have had in your whole life.”

“ loki, ”  she murmurs,   gentle in the way she only ever has been with them.  she prods them back,  though this time her seiðr manifests in a small blade,  no larger than the palm of her hand. she pokes the tip against their ribcage, though not hard enough to pierce their skin.  no need to start an all out war. “ keep your seiðr to yourself. or do you need to learn this lesson again?  i grow weary of teaching you. ”

she doesn’t -- and she knows they’ll recognize the lie for what it is the second it leaves her lips.  loki is the only thing in all of asgard that she’s deemed worthy of her attention ⸻ the only being who can draw even half a smile from her.  more often than not,  she finds herself seeking their company,  mischief a welcome distraction from the hel that is asgardian politics. 

“ we’re not waiting,  because we’re not going to give him a single drop of satisfaction,  are we? ” one eyebrow raised,  she twists just enough so that she can look them in the eye. “ he would conduct himself better if you were wholly on my side.  i imagine you know that,  though. ”

she’s never shown the fondness for mischief that they have,  always preferring her conflict to be more direct with more casualties.  still,  there’s a glimmer in her eyes that mirrors that in theirs. hela pokes them again with the blade before holding her palm out,  offering it to them. “ so that’s what you’ve started to call fun? we have spent too long apart, dearest. ”

leasung​.

Oh this was as good as it could get, wasn’t it? Their own smile hadn’t been damped or even slightly held back for even a moment. If anything their grin was big enough to make the task at hand bordering on impossible; keeping the strand of hair as mustache. Hands remained kept together behind their back, which just made it easier for them to hold a good posture, and of course; use their fell height for what advantage they could make of it.

“Hela.” They offered in return, in an rather stoic tone considering the obvious amusement that was just under the surface, seconds away from bubbling up and take over. “I am, just as you. waiting for… uh… waiting… what are we waiting for?” Their little joke seemed completely forgotten as they instead looked to their sister, pleading for a clue as it seemed to have completely slipped their mind. A little bit of Hela’s hair remained under their nose.

her own seiðr wraps around loki,  cold but not oppressive.  she could strangle them here,  if she wanted to,  pierce them with a thousand blades conjured only through sheer desire and force of will.  it’s important to her that loki be reminded of that ⸻ even if she herself chooses to forget that she might not survive such an encounter,  either. a ripple of magic ruffles loki’s hair,  though an onlooker might mistake it for a gust of wind. odin’s eldest certainly wouldn’t make use of her powers in such a casual way ; leave that to thor,  not to the child born only to bring death. 

“ we do not wait, ” she reminds,  stepping to the side so she can wrap an arm around them,  relinquishing the grip her seiðr had on them.  they might almost pass for a normal family like this. “ your brother is late in returning from alfheim.  i do hope he didn’t attempt his version of diplomacy again ⸻ i doubt we would be able to repair that damage a second time. ” 

there’s a dry laugh,  not quite hollow,  as she lifts a finger to brush the remains of her hair away from their face. “ you're too old to look this ridiculous.  really,  loki.  i do think you’ve been spending too much time with him. we’ll have to do something about that. ”

lokadottr​.

blue eyes flit to her aunt once she speaks, momentarily torn away from from the merriment around them. though the music is soft, the voices are loud and she must lean in to hear her speak. ‘ no? you look so delighted to be here. ’ a soft laugh escapes her lips as she takes the glass, knowing she can at least get away with a small bit of teasing here or there. 

sipping on the wine she nods, ‘ years of practice. imagine the stroke my mother would have if any of them showed up in joggers. ’ there is a slight pause at her aunt’s words, and all she can do is nod before speaking, ‘ harald had to work, i wanted to stay here with him… ’ 

‘ i’ve missed you too. you’re probably right though, about magni. i’ve tried numerous times to ban him from the apartment but it never works. i think we both ought to invest in private security. ’

“ i’m trying, ” she laughs,  happier than she’ll ever admit to be here.  it’s been years since she’s thought of asgardia as home,  but she finds herself more reluctant to leave this place than to come to it. “ the wine helps,  though i told your father specifically not to pick this vintage. i suppose that was my first mistake.  at least he didn’t let thor pick . . . ”

there’s a downright giggle at torvi’s remark,  but she masks it with a cough. she might have to suggest the idea to thor just to see the look on sigyn’s face. can’t have things getting too boroing around here. 

“the two of you will just have to come another time. sans your cousin.  i can’t be clear enough about that ⸻ i told him he wasn’t allowed back in the country until after new years. you know how they say if you have a cat,  you shouldn’t put a bell on it?  because it’ll just learn to hunt around the sound,  and all you’ll accomplish is making it a better hunter?  that’s what i’m worried about with magni.  we don’t want him getting too resourceful. ”

❴ @leasung​​ ❵ they are simply doing their duty as the younger sibling; standing next to her. using her hair as a fake mustache.

if their duty is to bother her,  hers is to stand wholly dignified and unaffected,  in every way the stoic queen she is meant to be.  but all of odin’s children have always struggled with duty,  and hel is no exception. she’s betrayed by the way the corners of her mouth turn up ever so slightly, though the fact that she hasn’t yet drawn a blade on her younger sibling reveals the same thing.  she’s fond of loki,  even though she knows it’ll be the death of both of them. 

“ loki, ” she whispers,  staring straight ahead,  barely moving her lips. “ what in the nine do you think you’re doing? have you mistaken me for thor? ”

“ i asked you to do it right. ”  hel’s not sure when,  exactly,  she and penny managed to get on speaking terms.  it may have been around the time she stopped actively trying to kill thor,  though she thinks it might have a little more to do with the way she’d do just about anything to spare thor’s children from what she went through. she’s certainly not become any nicer,  so it’s got to be that. “ does thor know?! ” 

@kingdomlit​ asked:  “maybe you could do me a favour once in a while without turning it into a goddamn crime spree, do you think you could do that?” from… hela

𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍  𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄  𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐄  𝐖𝐀𝐒  𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑  𝐇𝐄𝐑  𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.    after  all,    penny  is  a    mom    now,    she’s  trying  to  be    good!    but  sometimes,    shit  gets  messy,    and  she  can’t  always  help  that.    and  to  be  fair,    she  wouldn’t  be    in    this  predicament  to  begin  with  had  hela  never  asked  her  for  a  favour  in  the  first  place.    ❝  y'know,    the  words    you’re  welcome    go  a  long  way,  ❞    penny  huffs,    arms  folded  defensively  over  her  chest.    ❝  and    you’re    the  one  who  asked  me  to  do  it!  ❞

❴ @lokadottr ❵ modern royals verse. 

“ i can’t say i miss this. ”  

hela offers torvi a glass of wine,  already halfway through her own.  as desperately as she’s wanted the throne,  she can barely stand parties like this.  it’s only now that she’s willing to admit that perhaps loki is better at this aspect of ruling than she would have been,  though she maintains that thor would have been better than either of them.  

the blonde idiot is across the room,  sif beside him,  small army of blonde children scattered around.  he looks happy.  in his element.  she can’t say the same,  but she stays,  anyways. stays for this damn family. 

“ but damn if this family doesn’t know how to clean up.  we missed you in paris,  you know.  i missed you.  i’m never letting magni into my home again without supervision from your side of the family. ”

lokadottr​.

gaze falls at her aunt’s words. in truth it is not the idea of manipulating her her uncle to get what her aunt, she wants that gives her pause. she’s done that with little issue her entire life ( no matter the love she holds for her family, even they were not above her games ) and she would do so again if it pleased her. it is the idea of tugging on her uncle’s heartstrings to start a war that makes her hesitate.

‘ no. he didn’t. ’ for once she is honest, her father’s influence is lacking and she meets her aunt’s gaze. odin was a taboo, a subject no one dared speak of outside of the audience chamber, or during drunken toasts to his death. ‘ my mother did. she had nothing kind to say, only that the day he died was one of the happiest of her life. ’

“ and of mine, ”  hela says,  not because it is true,  but because she wants it to be. “ odin lacked resolve when it came to asgard.  it seems he wasted it all on his children. we have a chance to right his wrongs.  i think your father and your uncle would agree with that. the nine need leadership,  torvi.  your father thought he could withdraw asgardian influence and end what took a millennium to build.  it will not be so easy for the realms to prosper again.  they need us.  they need you. ” 

icyxmischief​.

Loki coughs in order to try and conceal his hard-edged mirth: at the proclamation that Hela “hates” him. 

     “I’m terribly sorry, sister, but I’m afraid that sentiment isn’t going to win you any points for originality.”

He spares her no gentleness as he smiles. It’s the whittled smile of a creature who has indeed been hated so long simply for existing to remind those in power of inconvenient truths, that being hated has become a source of pleasure.

A burned child loves the fire, is that not the saying? 

Patiently he prepares the tea anyway, stepping over the mess, and himself incinerating it, with a further flurry of green flames. He pours it with all the expert panache of a man who has been a prince at countless diplomatic engagements growing up, and a man who has stared Thanos the Mad Titan in the face and smiled without so much as the wobble of a single limb. 

When Hela speaks again, as Loki takes a seat at the kitchen counter, the Trickster God lets loose a brief but delighted cackle.

     “Practice, that is how,” he commiserates, toasting her with his teacup.  

“ you take too much pride in that, ”  she mutters,  but it is good to see that he has survived all that odin has put them through.  that’s one out of three.  maybe she’ll make it out of this,  too. 

the flames don’t burn her,  but she wishes they would.  is it too much to ask for,  to hurt?  to feel anything,  other than this gnawing emptiness?  hela closes her eyes, holding her breath.  if she does it long enough,  she’ll pass out.  it’s a comforting thought.  when her lungs begin to burn,  she finally takes a breath,  opening her eyes. 

she’s burned herself out,  unable to muster the energy necessary to glare at her brother.  all she can do is turn up her nose,  though she finds herself echoing his gesture,  lifting her drink in turn. how far they have fallen ⸻ they should be toasting to their victories in asgard’s grandest hall.  they should be trying to kill each other; poison and hidden daggers and .  it would have been fun,  she thinks,  to have had loki as a true adversary.  thor,  less so. he lacks the grace for it.

“ loki, ”  she sighs,  coming to sit across from him. his name still feels strange on her tongue ⸻ but she could say that about anyone. it has been so long since she has known company. “ you may have resigned yourself to this life,  but i will not.  we are royalty. thor forgets. ”