MANIFESTED CHAOS.

the universe wants to break free.

[laufeyd]

welcome to #laufeyd :  a headcanon influenced portrayal of sylvie from the loki series and by extension, the marvel universe.  para / novella + plot driven. crossover and duplicate friendly.  mature and potentially triggering content may be present, so please proceed with caution.  minors do not interact. be sure to read through the carrd before interacting, thank you!  CARRD.

[wnq-writers]

My life is a book of costly mistakes and lost chances.

The Capricorn Reverie  (via princessrpg)

[laufeyd]

〝 you're beautiful , 〞he says , running a thumb over her cheek , eyes undeniably earnest .〝 do you know that ? 〞 /   @agaetir​​

to  say  she’s  caught  off  guard  would  be  an  understatement.    for  all  the  shared  secrets,  both  spoken  and  not,  this  is  something  that  has  never  been  breached.    of  course,  it’s    .  .  .      implied,  isn’t  it?      but  the  suddenness  of  it  being  tangible,  and  said  simply  because  he  wanted  to  say  it  and  make  sure  she  knew,  well.    that  is  something  beyond  base  aesthetic  appeal.    sylvie  is  no  saint,  no  blushing  maiden  naïve  to  stares,  or  what  they  mean.    she’s  always  known  in  some  objective  way,  that  she  is  beautiful    ---      but  in  this  moment,  it’s  the  first  time  sylvie  realizes  she’s  beautiful  in  the  way  he  means  it.  not  just  as  a  passing  fancy,  or  a  way  to  be  alive  at  the  end  of  a  universe.    even  in  her  ire,  and  in  all  the  ways  she  is  flawed      [      and  she  is,    terribly      ]    he  still  thinks  so.    she  can’t  help  but  lean  a  little  into  his  touch,  feeling  awfully  exposed  when  he  looks  at  her  like  that;    like  there’s  not  a  darkened  corner  he  doesn’t  see,  and  all  the  things  she  tries  to  hide  are  so  easy  to  see.  and  yet  he  doesn’t  flinch  or  look  away.    

the  goddess  looks  back,  just  as  earnest;    brows  knitted  together  and  resisting  in  the  initial  impulse  of  too  close,  time  to  disappear.      it’s  easy  to  be  near  when  they’re  bickering,  fucking  or  fighting    –      but  ironically,  it’s  moment’s  like  this  that  make  her  feel  the  most  vulnerable.  but,  as  terrifying  as  it  is,  she  doesn’t  plan  to  run  away.    instead,  sylvie  steps  a  little  closer,  pulse  echoing  in  her  ears  faintly,  with  fingers  reach  out,    brushing  over  the  pulse  point  in  his  neck  before  cradling  his  jaw;    thumb  mimicking  the  gentle  touch  he  gives,  and  she  sees.    everything  she’s  ever  felt  and  feared,  everything  she’s  ever  wanted  to  reach  out  and  take,  or  been  too  afraid  to  ask  for.    the  uncertainty  of  life,  the  mad  scramble  for  identity  when  what  they  thought  they  knew  was  taken  away,  and  an  existence,  a  purpose,  that  means  something;    anything.    she  exhales  a  breath  she  didn’t  even  realize  she  was  holding,  and  wonders  if  she’s  giving  the  same  look  he’s  giving  her    —    as  if  they’re  gazing  at  something  precious.

      ❝        i  don’t  think  i  really  knew  what  that  meant.    not  in  the  way  you  say  it,  but  i  think  i  do  now.    because  that’s  all  i  know  when  i  look  back  at  you,  and  find  you  looking  at  me  first.        ❞

[aridante]

JUDE LAW as Lord Alfred Douglas in Wilde (1997)

[laufeyd]

"would you like me to wash your hair?"     /    @ceoofvariants​​

               ❝       ——    you would do that?   ❞    

that  isn’t  something  she  ever  particularly  thought  she  would  hear,  let  alone  think  about  at  all,  frankly;    what  time  is  there  during  the  ends  of  a  thousand  worlds,  to  indulge  in  something  so  frivolous,  and  yet,  so  intimate?    for  a  moment,  sylvie  wonders  if  she  looks  confused,  before  her  head  shakes  with  a  faint  laugh.    there  are  so  many  nuances  to  life,  to  relationships,  she  is  learning  with  him;    with  them.      this  is  just  one  more  thing  to  add  to  the  list.    and  perhaps,  a  bit  too  excitedly,  the  goddess  rocks  back  and  fourth,  with  a  grin  that  is  no  doubt  filled  with  mischievous  intent.

                   ❝    only if you shower with me.     ❞

[laufeyd]

   cue   one   very   tired   goddess   just   sprawling   out,      looking   like   she   may   fall   asleep   at   any   moment.

[petriii-deactivated20260116-dea]

[owlmylove]

ships in which someone speaks English as a second language (◡‿◡✿)

ships where that someone slips into foreign swearing when upset (◕‿◕✿)

ships where that someone moans out foreign endearments when they’re with their lovers (ʘ‿ʘ✿)

SHIPS WITH BILINGUAL LOVERS (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧*:・ﾟ✧

[critter-of-habit]

It's only been one episode and I miss that hairstyle already

[bbannertm-arc-deactivated202301]

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄. a burden I should be relieved to think I could possibly get rid of. but it’s been my burden for so long that I can’t escape the question- without it.. WHAT AM I? HE WAS ME. a part of me buried so deep it took a bomb to expose him. without his ROAR in my mind, all I hear is my own whisper. there’s no you. there’s no me. 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐔𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄.  .

[laufeyd]

like this for a canon dialogue starter.    

[agaetir]

[laufeyd]

agaetir​:

                  (  we’re three  )  (  halves of  )  (  a whole  )  .

[laufeyd]

   ❛  is  this  good ?  ❜  +  ❛  mirror .   to  have  sex  with  my  muse  in  front  of  a  mirror .    @ceoofvariants​​

this isn’t something she’s used to  --  not just giving up a little bit of control, but taking things slow.  growing up in apocalypses, taking whatever she could get while it lasted certainly didn’t breed a mindset of overindulgence.  or, indulgence of any kind, really.  but this,  this is something she could get used to, and not simply for the pleasure buzzing beneath her skin, but because of how he makes her heart flutter.  he doesn’t need to be gentle, certainly doesn’t need to treat her like something fragile, and yet, he does.  mobius holds her like she is something precious, not because he has to, but because he wants to;  the thought alone is enough to make her breath stutter, though the slow roll of his hips into hers certainly makes an equal impression.  she may be situated in his lap, arms wrapped around his shoulders, but despite her instincts, sylvie is forcing herself to let him guide her.  

it’s difficult, when she wants more, more, more, used to everything on the verge of death, but it’s a habit she’s been unlearning; even if it makes her whine a little in frustration, fingers tugging at the short, gray strands of hair while her head tips back.  in the mirror, she can catch sight of them, moving in a sensual fluidity that takes her breath away.  there’s a faint sheen of sweat along their skin, arms around her waist to keep her steady, blonde hair sticking to her cheeks and jaw.    IS THIS GOOD?  one of his hands dips between sylvie’s thighs, making them tremble with slow, teasing  strokes.  normally not enough to send her over, but, with everything she feels, how much she actually trusts him, adores him  ---  it’s a lot.  it’s enough.  

she pressies closer with a gasp, lashes fluttering as mobius’ lips drag along on her neck, soft as any prayer, before the ends of his fingers dimple her skin.  she’s a shivering mess in his arms, in no hurry to leave; content to enjoy the way this feels, the feel of his heart beating against her chest with equal quickness, the pleasant warmth he exudes.  their noses brush and she can’t resist kissing him, and letting mobius pull them back onto the bed properly, still connected, but . . .  content.   even if she wants more  [  and maybe part of the reason she always does is because of how much she wants them near in any way she can  ]  this is just as good;  and she doesn’t want to waste the moment.  she breathes out when he breathes in, unable to bear pulling away from his lips for too long.

                             ❝    yes.    ❞    

[sulself-moved]

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐍𝐨 (𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥) 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 And it came to pass afterward, that Jesus went throughout every city and village, preaching and showing the good news of God’s kingdom: and the twelve were with him, And certain women, which had been healed of evil spirits and infirmities; Mary called “Magdalene,” out of whom seven demons were removed, — Luke 8:1-2

private     &    highly    selective   rp    blog   for   DC   character   RAVEN     /   RACHEL   ROKOTOV.

[laufeyd]

agaetir​:

                 〝  i’ll bite           what  is  it  ,  sylvie  ?  〞

  ❝    are you really going to read when you haven’t kissed me all day?   ❞

[laufeyd]

bbannertm​:                                       

“ You’re right. I don’t but .. you needed help. I assume if you wanted to hurt me, you would have done it the moment I got closer.. ” Bruce tested. Bruce removed his hands from her shoulder, his eyes still looking at the bleeding wound with a deep frown and sighed. “ I don’t like turning away anyone in need of help. ” Plus she was alone. Bruce didn’t fault her for being cautious, he would have been too. 

to  say  this  is  unexplored  territory  would  be  a  great  underestimation.    the  places  she  has  lived    [    sometimes  for  days,  or  hours,    depending  on  the  class  of  the  apocalypse    ]    and  the  people  she  has  associated  with  in  that  time  do  not  think  like  this.    she  could  not  afford  to  think  along  such  terms  either,    helping  people  who  were  destined  to  die.    ironic,  since  it  was  supposedly  her  destiny,  too.    yet  she  continues  to  fight  against  the  judgement  of  the  tva.    selfish?    perhaps.    but  it’s  kept  her  alive  this  long,  if  banged  up  now  and  again.      like  now,  for  instance;    with  a  nasty  wound  that  may  or  may  not  be  little  fried  along  the  edges.

              ❝      but  for  the  record,  i’m  a  lot  sturdier  than  you  think.    this?    nasty  as  it  is,  it’ll  heal,  and  i’m  not      [     .    .    .     ]    helpless.    just  a  bit  lost  at  the  moment,  i  suppose.    not  entirely  sure  when  i  am.    ❞

[laufeyd]

astrapure​:

@laufeyd​

     “You’re different…”

The comment is made rather easily, head giving a rather curious tilt as it brings a shift in dangling burnette tresses. Appearing before others like this was rather common for her - position akin to a child sitting with legs crossed and arms lightly folded at their chest, except well, she was currently upside down before the other. Cerulean energy thrums beneath her form to keep her perfectly suspended, cerulean vibrant in her gaze. She’s well aware of variants of other’s existing - there were all different realities and all different realms that had such various versions of their selves - though, she’s never quite met someone like this one; like her. 

                  ❝       ——    different?   ❞    

uncertainty   and   confusion   over   exactly   what   that   is   supposed   to   mean   settles   into   her   expression      :      a   raised   brow   and   something   a   little   alarmed,   almost.         course,   that   may   be   in   part   to   the   unknown   being   that   is   hanging   upside   down   with   wide   eyes,   like   a   kind   of   curious   spider.      typically,   people   just   tended   to   react   violently.      or   with   indifference.      either   or   worked   well   enough   for   her   purposes.      arms   crossing,   blue-green   eyes   sweep   over   the   other’s   figure   with   a   hip   cocked,   before   her   hand   waves   vaguely   in   the   air.

        ❝        what   in   the   seven   hells   is   that   supposed   to   mean?      different   good,      different   bad      [   .   .   .   ]      lot   of   gray   area,   there.   ❞