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P̻ᴇ̜ɴ̗ɴ̟ʏ̡ ̜D͕ʀ̯ᴇ̤ᴀ͙ᴅ̪ғ̡ᴜ͎ʟ̤ || ʟᴏᴋᴀɴᴇ ᴀᴜ

fostxr:

█▓▒░ ⊰ ✯ ⊱ ;  

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                                                                ❝  it shall be one’s
                                                                      truest honor, my Lord  ❞.

                     a   rather   aberrant   happenstance,   per-
                            -chance  it  was ( the  young maiden pon-
                            -ders such as a  mere venture to atone for 
                            her rebuttal upon  glimpsing what  is  be-
                            -yond the bounds of the far- flung  cham-
                            -bers of  her own;  she  ardently    fancies, 
                            then,  whether  the  king  had heeded  of 
                            her unforeseen  veer  of  fervor ), yet  still
                            the  fair   goddess   avows  herself  to  be
                            steered through a peculiar entanglement 
                            of    labyrinthine   corridors sumptuous 
                            halls —   pliant  footfalls  abreast,  whilst
                            those queer, auburn tomes fleetly roam. 

                                          Thereon, both   were  mounted  fickly  aloft  a vast
                                                        patch of drizzly terrains  trifling burrows 
                                                        ( & the springtide dame gathers  he  must 
                                                        have been  hollowing  earth  for  greene-
                                                        -ries )    strewn  across  the  dank,   barren 
                                                        landscape, as  if  lingering  so  to be ten-
                                                        -ded befittingly by the gentlest of  touch.
                                                        With a vague dip of a  hazel   crown, her 
                                                        keen, fathoming gaze swiftly seeks  those 
                                                        gleaming,  evergreen  hues  —  questing 
                                                        for his   concurrence,  while  those   coral
                                                        lips sunder to unfurl a mellifluous tune.

                                                                ❝  may i ?  ❞.

                     & it begins — a meager caress of strange au- 
                            -gury  flitting  betwixt those lithe fingers, 
                            spun  solely  by  a   fervent   will  as  the
                            quaint string of sorcery throbs  zealously 
                            within  the  arctic   breeze   before    the
                            youthful  wielder  bids  it  forth in  haste.
                            Aye,   bizarre,  it was !  An   unseasoned 
                            blossom ascends deftly skyward —  leaf-
                            -lets borne of ebony grey, florets dark as
                            the wintry gloom dappled by starlit  tin-
                            -sels, & twice as lovely as the  pompons
                            in the flowering prime.

                                                                ❝  would you wish 
                                                                      to grant it a name?  ❞.

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    What flora sprouted from the goddess’s 
    mere touch was as vibrant as Hades 
    expected it to be. Light, lovely, a sweet
    fragrance seeping past the thick miasma
    of fire and brimstone that wafted in from
    the distant shores of the River Styx. He
    stared at it for but a heartbeat, before his
    gaze shifted to Persephone’s face.

"Nay, such  a creation is not of
 my doing. I leave you to name
 her. It would be the first of many
 in your garden, after all.”

It was then when he deliberately
averted his eyes, refusing to see
the realization dawning on her face
- if she even picked up on the 
meaning in his words - and busied
himself with the broad shovel that
he’d summoned into his grasp. 

Belladonna sat a good distance away,
watching the two immortals, the forked
tail swishing behind her. It was then when
the hellhound padded up to the goddess,
sniffing, before settling down at her feet
with a contented yawn. 

"It still needs deeper ridges for the hedges.
 T’would take but a fortnight, but I can see
 what I can do to speed the process.”

Of course, there was also the issue that
between the two of them, only one had the
knack for gardening. The only thing Hades
knew how to dig was a grave, but that was
not the purpose of his current project. 

|| fostxr ||

(Source: mischiefxchaos)

MARVEL CHARACTERS  +  NICKNAMES

yourmostfevereddreams:

Melissa was shocked when he basically shut her down. She was offering him the keys to the kingdom and he had zero interest. The list of things she was capable of was long and she had no desire to sit here and do this song and dance. Either Loki was going to help her or he wasn’t. She just needed to figure out why it was that he hung around here on Earth…

"So tell me, Loki. If you could wish for one thing, one thing that you can’t or won’t accomplish on your own, what would it be?"

The items on the table stopped moving on the table, the tapping fingers freezing in place. “Now someone is asking the right questions,” he intoned, a hint of amusement lacing his voice. 

"Thor. Bruised. Broken. At my feet." 

Loki flicked his eyes up at her, a sharp look that could penetrate one’s mind and thoughts. Which he could, if he wanted. But he didn’t find it necessary, at least not now. 

"Can you do that, my dear? Because if you can, then….this Grant will be yours within the week. Maybe less, depending on my mood.” 

|| @yourmostfevereddreams ||

(Source: mischiefxchaos)


whrearthmeetsfire:

mischiefxchaos:

Button Meme

11. an alarm starts sounding and the device informs our characters that it will self destruct in 60 seconds

The wail coming from the shiny black box is irritating, but the message that it leaves is even more so. Loki could have described it as dangerous, had he been anyone else, but he could easily send it to nowhere. However, it wasn’t his hand that pushed the button. 

                            —-it was hers

"You caused this. You fix it, my dear.”  

Carys watched the agents pass them, sticking to the shadows. Between that and her spell, they wouldn’t notice her. She frowned at the large scepter one of them was holding. Closing her eyes a little, she focused her power and…yes. That was the source of what she had been sensing. And based on Loki’s reaction and the way his eyes followed it, what he was looking for.

She pinched his arm to get his attention. “Please tell me we’re not taking on an entire HYDRA fleet just so you can get a shiny toy,” she said. That much power would be dangerous for anyone to wield, and she wasn’t certain if Loki would be able to handle it.

"Oh we’re not. am. I suspect that beloved Alastor of yours would haunt me to my grave if you so much received a scratch.” 

Loki’s voice was low yet feminine, and he flicked another lock of long hair away from his face. It was incredulous to know that females were able to go around with their hair constantly in their face, but to each his or her own. He peeked around the corner again, seeing the agents walk further down the hallway, the taller of the two holding on to the scepter tightly.

It would be difficult for him to get the item unseen, with it being heavily guarded as it was. But he waited until the agents had entered one of the doors, noting where it shut. He was about to transform into his male form when he felt something heavy tug at him, an invisible lasso that tugged him out into full view. 

He stumbled, hitting the opposite wall, seeing a tall stranger approach, the scepter pointed at him. 

"Well well. Never thought the God of Mischief could look so…ravishing." 

|| whrearthmeetsfire ||

flame-haired-siren:

"Very funny," Delphine chided with an amused shake of her head. That was nothing close to what her kind did, but she knew he was merely pulling her leg. "Now, where to start when one is thousands of years old…?" She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "History states that you’re the god of mischief and chaos, right? That seems to ring true from this meeting alone." Insignificant though it seemed, his small jests told her that much, although she’d yet to see any of the "chaos" part.

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"Yet a very valid query," he pointed out. Loki chuckled at her comment, rubbing the tips of his fingers in an almost thoughtful gesture. "One aspect of my personality that this realm has accurately picked up on, yes. But I suppose that you have yet to learn just how chaoticI can be, yes?” He wasn’t one to show just what he could do on a whim, but if it served to make a point, then it was something he was willing to do. 

|| flame-haired-siren ||

(Source: mischiefxchaos)


And We Run (Feat. Xzibit)
Within Temptation
Hydra
96 plays










ᴅ̲̅ᴀ̲̅ʀ̲̅ᴋ̲̅ɴ̲̅ᴇ̲̅s̲̅s̲̅ ғᴀʟʟs || ǫᴜᴀʀᴀɴᴛɪɴᴇ ᴀᴜ

callidusxdetectus:

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When she heard Loki mention a kid was still out there (and by the tone of his voice-not a living dead corpse), she was almost rushing to the cabinet. She knew she couldn’t move it alone, and with how everything occurred moments ago, knew anyone else in her apartment would be unwilling to aid her.

"-We can’t help him…can we?"

Loki listened for a few more seconds, before shaking his head. “No, I think it’s the doctor’s kid. The little girl. Brianna…Breanna..something like that. Shit. Shit. Shit.” 

Okay, so maybe his philosophy of ‘protect our own’ was crumbling really fast, but damn it all, there was a kid outside. And she was still alive. 

"I know I’m going to regret this," he muttered, giving Annamarie a pointed look. "C’mon, help me push."

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(Source: mischiefxchaos)

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