disgraced prince

In Frozen 2...

In a Frozen sequel that delves into Helsa and the virtue of Forgiveness, I need the moment where Elsa forgives the disgraced prince to be treated with all the powerful emotion it warrants. To the point where declarations of love exchanged between the two are unnecessary.

To put it in perspective, I can picture Hans not giving the Snow Sisters and their entourage a hard time about forgiving him. Why should they? He has never forgiven his brothers for treating him like garbage, nor the world for failing to compensate him for such an awful start on life that turned into an awful life in general. He probably sees the act of forgiving as a sham created for people to feel morally superior.

Despite these cynical viewpoints going back years, the Snow Queen proves it all dead wrong. By the climax, after secrets are revealed, relationships strengthened, walls torn down and a faith in human decency restored, Elsa tells Hans, “I Forgive You,” and we all know what she’s really saying. *wink*


THEATRE OF IMMORTALITYthe hero archetypes (character archetype series 1/5)

@false-lucifer liked for a starter!

Hans looks at the…. stranger… before him. He had seen his fair share of monarchs in his lifetime, but nothing like this. In fact, his own father seemed a lot nicer than this fellow. He lifted his hands, as though expecting an attack of some sort.

“I… would rather not cause a fuss, but make my death swift.” No point trying to argue against the powerful (and terrifying) looking stranger in front of him, right?

By a lot of standards, I’ve got two strikes against me when it comes to cosplaying: weight, and age. I’m 42 and while I’ve always loved costuming for Halloween, Ren Faires, etc., I just got started going to cons. And y'know what? I’m having a fantastic time, and if people don’t like the way I or my costumes look, they can look elsewhere. Black Widow is a badass and so, in my own quiet way, am I.

Character: Black Widow

Photographer: “Prince Disgrace”

—│nótt hræzla│—

In all honesty, he should have been prepared for the Æsir — or, frankly, the Vanír — to send assassins. After his banishment, everyone across the Realms knew of the disgraced Asgardian prince. And, perhaps most importantly, that he wasn’t Asgardian at all, but of the Jǫtunn Svell, the Ice Giants; a race that had long been in strife with the Asgardians.

It was difficult to mistake the howl of the ótti hundr, the way it crawled its way up the spine, nestling to tingle at the back of the neck, raising hairs in some primal, ancient fear.  The creatures were aptly named, hounds of terror, for the way they petrified even the bravest of soldiers.

“What the hell was that?” Clint was saying, rising from his seat.  His coffee mug clattered against the table, tipping –

And Loki ported out before it hit the floor.

These things were fast, long-legged and wily, with too many eyes and too many joints.  He avoided looking at it as he diverted it away from the tower, from the city, from the island.  The hounds were monsters, death-bringers, and the Avengers knew nothing of inter-Realm threats; they’d be more a hindrance to him than anything in this fight.  
What he needed was a wide-open space.

Unfortunately, fate had other things in mind, and his search for a proper battlefield – while keeping away from the hound’s teeth – led him across continents.  Weariness pricked at him and he headed for the mountains (what country was he in?), passing through a city on his way, dodging along the rooftops and porting when he could, when its claws caught the hem of his coat.

He went down, slamming into the concrete, and cars honked and swerved out of the way.  A young boy on a bicycle fell, leg caught in a part of the contraption, and the hound was coming, scuttling down the side of the building. Its drool sizzled on the pavement, and the child started screaming as it stalked past him; it whipped its head around, too many eyes fixing on him, too many teeth as it opened its mouth –

Loki hurled a bolt of magic and it connected with its shoulder.  “You’re after me, remember?” he growled, standing.

It did.  

And it was faster than he’d anticipated; he’d only ever read of these creatures, after all.  It slammed its shoulder into him before Loki’d even realized it was upon him, and he flew back – 

Instead of connecting with the side of a building, as he’d anticipated, he found himself colliding with another warm body, the force knocking the both of them a few feet back into a house – apartment – and rolling onto the floor, leaving them in a tangled and bruised heap. 

Green eyes, a paler hue than his own, closely resembling jade, met his own. Angry eyes, confused, in pain.  He rolled off the young man, coughing.  “Run,” he gritted out, and stood.  The creature was howling, talons making a horrible sound against the pavement outside, and Loki summoned a blazing green swirl of magic, heading for the door to join it.


@pxmpkinprincess liked for a starter!

Hans was looking rather stressed as he sat at the foot of a tree in front of Olivia, just at the edge of the graveyard. He ran a hand through his hair as he took a deep breath.

“Look… I don’t know why the forest near where I live brought me here again, and… I would rather not have such a short trip to me own grave. If you could kindly point me in the right direction back to where humans live, I would be grateful.”

The Trouble With Royalty

TITLE: The Trouble With Royalty

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 01 of 05.

AUTHOR: MaliceManaged

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine accidentally buying Loki from slave auction and being stuck with the annoying, disobeying former prince of Asgard. 


NOTES/WARNINGS: None so far, but it will get more mature in later chapters.


    She wasn’t sure how she got herself into these situations. Whether she was possessed of extraordinarily bad luck, or if the cosmos woke up one day and decided ‘fuck this person in particular’. As she stood there being glared down by her new disgraced-prince-turned-slave, Judith wasn’t sure which was worse.

    It all started when she stumbled into a portal on her way home from school. Quite literally; she had been walking, tripped on an uneven bit of pavement, and landed in the middle of a crowded marketplace that was clearly not on Earth. Any awe she might have felt at the sights around her was overshadowed by a) the fact that she didn’t know where she was, b) that she was terribly underdressed in her green peasant blouse, black denim shorts and black pixie boots, and c) she didn’t know where she was!

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