HANA, SAMT.

ind. loki by luca. est. 03/31/12 — re. 03/01/18.

[hraunwyf-b]

rebooted. find me @hraunwyf.

[hraunwyf-b]

rebooted. find me @hraunwyf.

[hraunwyf-b]

lady loki: cosmic sophia

thanks for coming to my ted talk

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

“Nothing. Leave me alone. It is December.”

— Francis Jammes, tr by Jethro Bithell, from “It Is Going to Snow,” wr. c. 1910

[hraunwyf-b]

lastofmars‌:

cosmicrayed‌:

lastofmars‌:

cosmicrayed replied to your post: i love luca @hraunwyf

Ha! Same!

will that sounds rather gay of you

[hraunwyf-b]

lastofmars‌:

@hraunwyf

He’s not sleeping, which isn’t much of a surprise. He can’t do it, no matter how hard he tries. Changing the sheets doesn’t help, everything still smells like M’yri’ah–like he’s not really gone, or maybe he’s still a ghost haunting their home.

So, he’s awake when someone raps harsh knuckles on his door at 3:42 in the morning. Rubbing at an eye, he stands, still in a t-shirt and sweatpants, and pads barefoot to the front door. Cold never really bothered him, so the crisp nighttime Denver air doesn’t phase him at all when it blows inward.

The person standing there does surprise him, though.

“Loki.” He says, and then before he can think to do anything else he bends down to draw her into a tight hug. “You came–I didn’t even call–I didn’t think to call.”

“Oof.” J’onn’s always been bigger than her—far back as Loki can remember, she and his brother were scrawny in comparison, so it’s no surprise that when he catches her up like that it’s a little bit much, especially with her hastily-packed bag over her shoulder and the bottle of moscato in her hand. Still, she relaxes into it, knowing he needs all the love he can get right now. 

“You didn’t need to call, babe, I know everything. Finished a shift at the hospital and when Ma’al turned up missing I put it together.”

She’s even still in her scrubs, her hair a messy bun and not a trace of the jewelry she’s usually loaded down with in her normal clothes—not a lot of it with her, either, the bag being about four parts her things to one part Ma’al’s that he forgot. “I’m so sorry, honey,” Loki finally says, free hand roaming up and down J’onn’s back, the best comfort she can manage right now. “I’m so, so sorry.”

[hraunwyf-b]

You should add it to your rules, it'd be safer for everyone

no th*rki IS in my rules thanks. it shouldn’t be hard to figure out it merits a block.

[hraunwyf-b]

yo.

if you hit me up and u ship th*rki. u gettin blocked

[hraunwyf-b]

vojvode‌:

HE’S INDULGING HER less than he does this for himself. alucard both can and has been known to listen to loki talk for hours, and would happily invent a reason to, were one not immediately available. he sets aside the old tome in his lap in favour of watching the cards dance between her hands, and despite his smile, his amicable ribbing —  ❝  magic tricks?  ❞ — he still plucks one from the deck, just off to the left. ❝  do you do birthdays?  ❞

“Yeah, but not yours. You’ve got too many, big obligation. I don’t think I remember when it is, either.” The deck vanishes in a snap and an absolutely childish little puff of smoke, but she’s half out of it, and she takes the card from his gloved fingers and turns it over to examine its face—ah. She could weep, too.

“Nine of Swords. Figures.” Some days it feels like her deck is all nines, all swords, but that card disappears, too, though its smoke is an inky black, and now she takes Alucard’s hands in her own, lowers her face to their cool backs, rests her head there. “Could always use nine swords. It’s eight swords more than I’ve got at the moment.”

[hraunwyf-b]

loki did not choose to become the ragnarok trigger, she was chosen for it and groomed for it her entire life, she was made to suffer and despair because something long before her decided that all the pain of the cosmos had to be shouldered on a singular entity and she had to be driven to it by hatred and fear and sorrow, and she had to be punished for what she did not choose, and her reward at the end of all things is that she’ll perish alongside the old world and never make it into the new one. loki’s fate does not make room for joy and when she finally finishes what she was made for the prize is not happiness, or peace, or rest, but absence. 

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

What I am, I endure. What I am, I endure. I suffer, I desire, I doubt. What I am does not satisfy me. I have become me without my consent. What I am I endure, I suffer.

Megan Terry, from “Approaching Simone,” first produced in 1970 (via violentwavesofemotion)

[hraunwyf-b]

if we have a ship you want me to keep listed on my new info pages then like this post.

i’m getting rid of some things that haven’t been written on for a while, ships i think a partner might have lost interest in, etc. if you’re still interested in keeping a ship or maybe developing one then click that heart.

[darthraydor-archive]

[hraunwyf-b]

"Okay."

“Rad.”

[hraunwyf-b]

He's late and he knows, but he's sure she expects it, so when he steps from the shadows of the alleyway she's just strutted by, he looks less guilty than he should. His hand leaves his pocket like its part of performance, a flick of his wrist to present a tiny box to her. A pure silver anklet, carved with intricate detail from beginning to end. No markings on the box for where it came from. Don't ask. "Fer our birthday girl," he smiles, kissing her cheek, "an' 51,268 'as never looked so lovely."

loki’s birthday, bitches

He is late, and Loki’s only been all too aware of it—sure, she doesn’t think she ever told John when her birthday is, and there have been some times when she herself has forgotten the goddamn thing altogether. So many thousands of years, and sometimes they drag, others they fly by, lately more dragging like some tired old kite. Exactly how she feels, as if she’s dangling unnoticed from a power line somewhere, though she doesn’t say it. But John knows. In his odd way, he always knows.

Still, it stands that the day of, she was convinced there’d be nothing from him. He attends his business as he does, no time for her. One half of Loki resents it, the other mocks herself for that. Birthdays, loved ones. One she has, the other she isn’t sure.

She manages not to trip on her pumps when he scares the devil out of her, and the hand she raises to her chest to convince her heart to calm down manages to look like some feminine, flattered thing, though the shock takes a few seconds to go out of her eyes.

“John Constantine,” she breathes, because when all else fails his name’ll do, and no, she’s got no intentions of asking. Doesn’t even think about it. What matters is he remembered, or he found out, or whatever he did, and he knows her age down to the year if not the day. Her fingers are absolutely reverent taking that box from his hand, and she hates to glow so obviously but when he kisses her? smiles? Jesus, she can’t help it. 

“I bet you say that to all the eldritch goddesses.”

[hraunwyf-b]

stolen from: @excommune tagging: everyone! if you see it then take it

self-knowledge questionnaire (done for 616 loki).

AUTHORITY

You are good at making decisions; you have a clear sense of what needs to be done and what others should be doing. Played out inside yourself, this tendency drives you to value willpower and self-control. You may be accused of bossiness. But acting on your desire to dissuade, restrain or guide is often appreciated by others – who might secretly like a clear direction, and some firmness.

INDEPENDENCE

You don’t set out to be different for its own sake; you are more easily guided by what interests and moves you. You are more concerned about what is right for you than about the pressure to fit in. In sex you are more aware than others of impulses which are not entirely conventional. You know the value of selective irresponsibility, of forgetting occasionally about being ‘good’.

ORDERLINESS

You love it when everything is neat and tidy: when there is a proper way of doing things, and you can tick things off the to-do list and know where everything is. So others, at times, are to you unbearably sloppy and messy. And you run into things that can’t be ordered (a child, a partner, a colleague at work) which drives you slightly nuts. But your desire for order is a good one when it is focused where it is needed and when you’re okay with a bit of mess.

[hraunwyf-b]

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) it's daytime now ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

WILLIAM