#ladysifwarriorborn

[deafarcher]

"It's me! Wake up!" ~Sif

Clint's hands dropped from around Sif's neck as his eyes lost the blue glow that has been in them moments earlier.

"Oh god, no no no."

He backed away from the Asgardian, terrified he'd hurt her even more.

@ladysifwarriorborn

[sohelish]

@ladysifwarriorborn

When the Klingon woman invited Helena for a "game night," the latter suspected to be "in for some fun" and was ready to be amazed. She'd never been offered an opportunity such as this one. However, soon, she realised she should have expected to take a stand.

It all began with a harmless round of Klingon checkers. A trifle amusement between acquaintances. Yet her counterpart took the honoured game so seriously that when she noted Hel give in easily, which resulted in her defeat, she insisted the human play her best match or fight her in armed combat. Her blonde companion obliged, and that brought forth a different issue. A stalemate.

After hours of stagnation, Helena finally offered a solution: were they to get drunk, perhaps one would lose quicker, in possession of a clouded mind. The Klingon woman only laughed at that, for she was no weakling and could hold her liquor. Unfortunately, Hel could as well.

A few additional hours later, the game night became a drunken challenge. And still, not one woman fell. The next suggestion was pure madness induced by the over-consumption of the bloodwine.

That is how both women found themselves staring at a bowl filled to the brim with lemons. Hel's misty eyes lazily travelled over the sour fruit, her smirk lopsided. 'Shall we begin?' The stutter in her speech was highly noticeable.

[shieldagentcoulson]

My muse as a teen

tagged by: @jemmaagentofshield

tagging: @prplhawk @stripesofbrooklyn @ladysifwarriorborn and anyone else who wants to do this

[spekiasynja]

My muse as a teenager

Made with:

Do a fun picrew: https://picrew.me/ja/image_maker/197705

Tagged by: @ladysifwarriorborn

Tagging: @sah1x1s @sohelish @algrimthestrong and anyone else who wants to do this 💕

[meta-thor]

"DON'T LEAVE ME HERE!" ~ladysifwarriorborn, going straight at the feels

"I won’t, I promise! But ...where did you come from, Sif? I thought you were dead!"

[thebrokengodofmischief]

Aftermath

starter for: @ladysifwarriorborn

He was dead. He had to be. The battle on the ark seemed so distant and Thanos’s grip around his neck barely a memory and darkness swallowed him.

Weightless, he remained in that comatose state. No sound or vision would rouse him, not even the terror’s of his past could touch him here; only the thin layer of frost that was slowly creeping over his skin registered in his mind as a mild annoyance. His form shifting out of self preservation, changing to a light cerulean blue; royal markings etching themselves back into his flesh as horns grew from his skull. Washing away the Aesir guise and wrapping him a cocoon of ice.

Heart pumping slow and steady as his secondary circulatory system took over, the naturally reoccurring carbon fibers in his Jotun bones knitting him back together.

Loki didn’t notice the ship approaching the site of their devastating wreak, the mechanism that pulled him from space, nor the soft touch of battle callused hands that greeted him once he was inside the ship.

At one point his eyes fluttered open, seeing a familiar shape and hearing her voice but no matter what he could not move his hand to reach for her.

Clearly he was dead. This must be Valhalla.. Perhaps a haven of peace but what a tragedy that Sif had found her way there before him. He thought.

Once Asgard had fallen Loki had sent a out a call, sending their coordinates to wherever Sif might have traveled to in her quest to find the Stones. There had been no response.

Yet here she was, at the end of all things.

Not seeing the stasis chamber she was putting him in, nor did he see her disappear into ash as he was sealed into sleep. The spaceship drifting for five years, preserving him in peace and blissfully unaware of even his own existence.

[endrethesly-blog]

@ladysifwarriorborn:

“It is very nice. And out of your pay range, Endre.” Sif sighed. “I know this is your misguided idea of flattery. But you should know better.”

“So... you won’t take it?” Endre didn’t deny that he had stolen it. He wouldn’t insult Sif’s intelligence like that. He had still hoped she’d keep it. “It’s the least you deserve but I can’t give you something like that.”

[positivity-for-the-rpers]

ladysifwarriorborn is so amazing! as a person and as a writer. the provided roleplay experience is actually surreal because you feel like you're in a sci-fi or a fantasy novel. engelbirgitte is the blog for the mun's original character, too. now that's a take on a angel you probably have never seen. sweet, fun, mun with a great sense of humour + great characters!

@ladysifwarriorborn / @engelbirgitte

[helish-archive]

from here

It took all the strength of character -- not reacting too cheerfully to the pun that Sif delivered so casually and beautifully, and Helena succeeded… somehow. She let out a light laugh and nodded her head, feeling very excited. Although, the main reason for her upbeat demeanour had little to do with the description of the Arcturians or the promises of naked dancers — both of which were hilarious notions, of course. It was the moment of sharing that got to her most, and, worried that she’d lose the opportunity, she steadied herself. Sif was far from being an open person and this felt like a rare win.

‘Adventurous bunch, your pals,’ Hel commented as she unstrapped the holster and removed it, along with her gun. Truth be told, she was nowhere near worried. Both women could handle themselves: they didn’t need weapons, they were weapons; that said, she did not really believe that it was safe at all. There must have been an illusion of safety, otherwise who would ever become a customer willingly. Naturally, the dangers people must’ve faced there were nothing like those of an explicit battle, however she assumed that many have been robbed out of their money or plunged into drunkenness and despair by the establishment, to say the least. How many illegals were there, having their rights violated because no one would care for them? False sense of security and associations with gilded prisons came to mind.

’It sounds like you never got a chance to come here on your own, though.’ She took off the belt with the purses, that carried most of her belongings at all times, making one wonder whether there was something of true value inside that she did not want stolen.

‘Being dragged does sound fun but,’ having adjusted her jacket, Helena made her way towards the door and pressed some buttons on the console. As it opened, a very unpleasant filtered air hit her nostrils. It was warm, dry and reminded her of the pressurised plane cabins — people must get really thirsty here, but it’s not water that they get, and surely not for free. ‘Was it never your idea to just come here and unwind? Get a little drunk and loose?’ she rubbed her palms together, after she dropped onto the ground, and then gestured around her, explaining:

‘I, for one, am not some crazy strip club addict but the aesthetic of such a place is incredible. Can you imagine what it took to build this place, and the people? Those who comprise it are certainly individuals of very unusual mindsets. And when I think of all the secrets and dirty deeds that are born here, oh boy, my mind is entertained already.’ It was like she considered the place to be a form of art of its own.

@ladysifwarriorborn

[annaleyson]

⚜ ~ @ladysifwarriorborn

Send me ⚜ + a url and i’ll make a graphic of our muse’s relationship aesthetic. 

[deafarcher]

Height comparison: Sif is 6ft 2 inches. Also let's hear it for smol muns with toll muses; I'm 155 cm (what ever that is in imperial units).

Clint and Sif:

155cm is 5ft 1.024in, so congrats you're about two inches taller than me.

@ladysifwarriorborn

[sohelish]

@ladysifwarriorborn

Sif, answering the phone: Hello? Hel: It's Hel. Sif: What did she do this time? Hel: No, it's me, Hel. It's actually me. Sif: What did you do this time?

[shieldagentcoulson]

what is your place in the royal court?

tagged by: @jemmaagentofshield

tagging: @ladysifwarriorborn @manymusesbym @stripesofbrooklyn

Phil's results:

the jester you spark humor wherever you wander, always seeking to brighten a room with the roar of laughter. but, you are no fool. you have seen the pain in the world, and you would give anything to keep others from feeling it, too. though, humor is a balm, not a cure. take care you do not merely conceal your tragedy beneath a smile.

[spekiasynja]

what type of symphony are you?

Partita - The Soloist

You are the silence in the theatre as the soloist readies his bow, and the chill one feels at the strike of the first note. You are the undeniable gravity that brings everything together, and you hold captive the fool and the genius alike. You make no promises with life for which path you are to take, and that is why your life can be nothing but extraordinary-- you know no other way. Though the mirror may be your greatest enemy, you know there is no absolution but that in the reflection. Through light and dark, you feel no discomfort in being alone though at times you crave affection. No matter. You persist. And that is your greatest strength. Your song: Partita in E Major by Bach

tagged by: @algrimthestrong

tagging: @ladysifwarriorborn @agentjjkelly @sah1x1s @stripesofbrooklyn @sohelish @guiltburdened and everyone who wants to do this!

[i-am-the-agonist]

"Amy... Why are you still wearing that red hat? I though they were strictly a Yuletide garment." ~ladysifwarriorborn

@ladysifwarriorborn"Because Sif..." *hiccups* "EVERDAY IS CHRISTMAS!' ((You got me xD its because I've been so inactive I've forgot to change it. It'll be back to normal soon enough. Thanks for reminding me ❤))

[endrethesly-blog]

@ladysifwarriorborn:

“You are not going to die,” Sif sneered. “Wait… did you stole something for them, or from them?” 

“Uhm...It’s...complicated. Well, not really. I stole for them, but switched the thing they wanted to a fake one and kept the real one.” Endre cringed. “And I lost the real one.”