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@daddyslittleabomination
i am not a ( woman. ) i am an inferno, i am a tempest. i am v e n o m & f a n g s & c l a w s. i am lightning & starlight, & i am hell in high heels.
canon and original muses from rwby, critical role, descendants, & more. penned by mary.
[hel has now officially moved to heartsflocked, my new multimuse!]
(✿◠‿◠) (◡‿◡✿)
Loridi & Hel OTP moodboard [1/?]
[Munday! It me and this fucking loser down in Florida two weeks ago! (I’m the wee spritely one in the skirt and she’s my gorgeous mother making faces at you)]
when you and your partner start to ship your characters it’s like
“You say that now, but somehow I feel as if I will come to regret giving you any explanation at all,” he teased, his father’s eyes shining with unaccustomed mirth. “This information will give you too much power over me, I fear.” Just the few smiles he had spared her were already hurting his cheeks, and he wondered if perhaps a thousand years of frowning had set his face like plaster into the familiar expression. “My mother always warned me that my face would set into this pout if I did not stop showing it, and I’m beginning to worry that she was right,” he admitted, his smile widening at her teasing touch, “Perhaps some time away from those who have set it there may allow it to crack. Then they might see that I am at least a child by now rather than a toddler.”
“You truly already judge me to be so manipulative? I’m wounded, Loridi.” She had no idea its cause—the knowledge that it was so rare, perhaps—but she couldn’t help but notice how her heart lightened at the cheer in his eyes, another lilting chuckle dancing past her lips as she assured, “Well, centuries as the queen of the dead have taught me not to abuse such power, so you can rest easy.” Her heart swelled with—pride?—at the way his smile grew under her touch, and she gave his cheek another light tap before withdrawing her hand. “I suppose that settles it, then; it would seem it’s now my duty to ensure the pout is done away with as much as it can be. It would be a shame if you couldn’t come to convince your family how grown you are with your winning smile.”
Loridi chuckled lightly at that. “Had you not asked for a reason, you would not have to know the truth. Your curiosity is at fault here, not my poor standards,” he teased, finding it odd how easily he could let his guard down around her. If only his family could treat him more like any other person instead of their ‘”baby brother”. Perhaps he would like them more if they did? “Well, it seems that you are not high enough on your own ego to see that I am, in fact, not a grown man but a toddler. Of course, I have also been told that my pout is what de-ages me, so perhaps if you see my around the other Thorsons you will find out why.”
“I was not implying any fault, all I said was that it was good to know. I wouldn’t have asked how I came to be your favorite if I didn’t want to know why, and this explanation does make much more sense.” A small snort escaped her, morphing to a chuckle, and she didn’t do very well at pretending to take that seriously, though she tried. “Ah, well, if you are truly a toddler, I worry about what your parents are feeding you, you’ve grown far too fast.” Her eyes landing on his smile, another soft laugh escaped her as she shook her head, reaching without thinking for the young god’s face and tapping his cheek near where his lips drew up at the corners. “But why would you mar your face with a childlike pout when your smile is so becoming on you? Surely it could at least help you remind them of your age.”
Hel Lokadottir Moodboard {2/?}
Loridi shrugged, his smile faltering ever so slightly. “I have low standards when it comes to Jotun and Aesir, I must admit. While most I meet or are related to treat me like an ignorant child, you have not. That is what makes you my favorite.”
The eyebrow raising ever further, a slow smirk shifted onto her face. “Ah, I see. Good to know my being your favorite is thanks to your terribly low standards and not based on merit.” Not that her teasing equated objecting; even without his fair reasons for liking her so much she could hardly complain about being anyone’s favorite. “But why would I treat you as such? You look grown to me.”
[kelcier]
A genuine smile blossomed onto his face. “This why you have always been my favorite Jotun, Hel.”
Surprise and mild confusion mixed in the form of a faint smile tugging at her lips, the eyebrow raising further. “Forgive me, I can only remember us having spoken once or twice on the training grounds before. And yet I am already your favorite?”
“Before you tell me how much I look like Thor, could you consider perhaps not doing that?”
An eyebrow rose on her face. “I would never. I wouldn’t insult anyone like that.”
Hel Lokadottir Moodboard {1/?}
Death Is A Midnight Runner [Hel/Clint]
Clint looked up at the sound of the voice -a familar one, though it took him a moment to place and afterwards he wished he wouldn’t know her. Oh.
"Hel, isn’t it?", he asked and suddenly he felt very tired. He didn’t even need to ask why he was here. He just knew. Even her new appereance, that, granted, gave him some chills couldn’t quite shock him as much as the realization where he was and why. "You look lovely", he quipped, though his voice lacked the usual humor and finally he just rubbed his hand over his face. "Oh god. No. No, I don’t…do I want to?"
He remembered…he remembered that it had been night and some person. They had fought, he remembered that and then there were bits and pieces missing and the very next was someone calling his name while he was on the ground, thinking about the irony that he should die in an alley as if he just had stayed a street criminal all his life.
And he had. He had died. Because why should he be here, if not for him being dead? Weird, he had always thought there would be some kind of…peace, after his death, but he only felt like turning back and apologizing to those who had found him and those who had still to learn… “I really fucked up in the end, didn’t I?”
"Aye, it is." She gave a short nod, watching as he seemed to come to terms with where he was. An eyebrow twitched on her face, rising the slightest bit higher, and she almost might have smiled at the fact that even upon dying he found time to make quips if not for the gravity of the situation. A man was dead, and a difficult choice lay ahead for him.
She watched him struggle to find the memory, her expression not hinting at the sympathy she felt, and she gave a slight shrug. "Whether you want to or not, the memory will return to you over time." As he struggled to work his way through what he could salvage of his last moments, Hel turned her head to look back towards her own home, and past it to the level of Helheim he would be sentenced to were he to stay.
There was plenty waiting for him here in Helheim, but there was just as much waiting for him back on Midgard. In the end, it was all down to him. She supposed she could make it easier, take the choice away as was her right, but there was something about this mortal... she wanted to give him the option to keep fighting.
"You fought bravely, and for good cause," she answered, and now she did betray her sympathy as she turned back to him. "Perhaps you did err, but you tried. You always tried."
I am not violent. I am not malicious. I am a result.
Death, The Book Thief (via vodkaquiet)
I was c̷̲͍̮̣͉ͧ̌̃̓̀̍̄̓͛͒́u̴̩͇͙̰̭͎ͭ̉ͤ̀͝ͅṟ̢̧̙̤̤̜̥ͤͧ͂͛ͣͥͨͣ̔ͨ̅͐͆͠͠s̨̛̭̗̩̠̑̑̆ͬ͌ͮ͋̉ͬ͌̋̅̓͒ͭ̓͑̄̀̀e̷̓̅̈͑̅҉̩̳̳̞̙̥̞̟̮̯͕̲̥͍͙̳̥̮͎͝d̘͍͔̻̣̫̖̹͔̼͓̺̠͚̼̣̏̊ͧ̍̀̒̎̈́̒ͫ̓͛ͬ̔̃̒̍́ at b i r t h .
