#helasdomain

[icyxmischief]

//"It's awful to think that there are timelines where we do not have each other. Papa, I am so happy we are all together as one family, here and now." (helas-domain)

"Don't think on such eventualities. You and I will never face them. Never."

He seizes her arms; they're so thin, so thin and cold, in his grasp. It only sharpens his resolve.

"Look me in the eye and see that I tell you true, Hela. Dwelling too long on what could be, what is, in some distant reality, is an invitation for madness. What-ifs are exactly what drove me over the edge of the Bifrost."

[icyxmischief]

//"Papa, it's alright if you don't like surprises." (helas-domain)

      “I appreciate that, love.” 

Loki’s tone is measured, as he extends a hand toward his daughter.  He places it on her forehead, and gazes down at her both as matriarch and as equal. 

     “Bt, my child, remember: you must never inherit my plights and miseries. No more than you already have, that is.  These grievings of mine, from a fraught past, can’t go untended. What you did for me, you did in love, and it is my responsibility to honor your efforts. It must go both ways, do you understand?” 

[icyxmischief]

@helas-domain liked for a Lady!Loki starter! 

     “I’ve just discovered something marvelous.”

Loki gathers the skirts of her green and gold gown about her and sinks into a seat beside her daughter.

    “The mortals of Midgard . . . . those who hail from nations and races thought to be, ehm, ‘hispanic,’ or ‘latino,’ they celebrate a magnificent custom of honoring, remembering, their beloved departed. They call it the Day of the Dead.  It is a time of feasting and celebration, of putting out flower petals to guide souls home, of great shrines with the likenesses of all the lost loved ones, called an ofrenda.”

She cups Hela’s face, ever cool, ever clammy, in her own, and wills warmth and comfort into her child’s very bones. 

    “Think on that, love!  Tis a celebration of your duties which does not center upon gloom and sadness.”  

[icyxmischief]

//Hela Lokidottir, goddess of death and queen of Helheim and Nifleheim, observes the photographic illusion of the inside of the TVA. Her face wrinkles in an un-queenly display, before delivering hence her judgement. "Ew."

"Yes, sweet thing, rather repulsively authoritarian, is it not, but the view from the promenade is worth a high Trip Advisor rating, as the Midgardians would say."

[icyxmischief]

“This is Hell’s territory and I am beholden to no gods.” (helas-domain) <3333

     “Cue your father’s sincere gratitude for your untamed ferocity, love.”  

[icyxmischief]

//In a rare display out outward affection, Hela wraps her arms around her papa's waist, burying her face in his tunic. The little queen's dignity, is, for the moment, cast aside. (helas-domain) <333333

Loki, though touched, is overcome with concern; he tugs Hela’s face out from his chest and searches her gaze, all but frantic.  Yet his voice remains carefully calm, soothing, as he strokes her raven hair.

      “Sweetling, whatever’s amiss? What has happened? Are you well?”

[icyxmischief]

"Trick or treat!" (helas-domain) <33

Send Trick or Treat for my muse’s reaction!

         “Daughter of mine, how could you so profoundly betray me          as to steal a catchphrase very like mine own.” Loki places a crown of intricately woven autumn leaves uponthe Queen of Hel’s dark head.          “For you. A reminder that even in death, there is beauty.”