#victorywomansigyn

[liesofthesilvertongue]

victorywomansigyn started following you

                    "My Lady." Loki bowed in curtsy.                                          "Always a blessing to be in your presence."

[thehangedgod-archived]

@victorywomansigyn

"Lady Sigyn, always a pleasure to see you."

[loki-mischiefsmaster-blog]

+ Sif {>:) hehe}

[Don’t you dare evil giggle-laugh at me. Uh. Sif and Loki. They’d. No. I think they’d kill each other. They can barely stand being friends; they wouldn’t last an HOUR in a relationship.]

"You must be joking."

[loki-mischiefsmaster-blog]

Betrayed by his own body. 

When Loki had first learned of his disease, he'd been determined not to let it best him. Young, with a strong immune system and a very intelligent mind, he'd set forth to best the leukemia. And he'd succeeded. 

But only for a while, and when the cancer came rushing back, ready for battle, pushing it back into remission was... difficult.

Impossible.

And his wife... Sigyn had to watch this happen, watch as his body destroyed him and brought him closer and closer to death each day. 

Everything hurt. Physically, emotionally, mentally - nothing was safe from the pain. Still, he watched her sleep at the side of the hospital bed, wearily mustering up the energy to reach out and tangle his fingers with hers. 

[thecoldoesntbotherme-blog]

Walking into the library

Sitting in her library, to find some quiet from the loudness that is Asgard’s palace it was bustling with many quest and she couldn’t take it anymore…so she escaped to her sanctuary, having picked on of her favorite books full of poems from realms that she has been to and ones that she has yet to visit. Her weakness were poems and her love for reading them, her brother would sit in here with her and read some poems to her but he has changed and doesn’t come in here anymore, sighing softly she runs her fingers down the page of her book reading the poem that her brother would read all the time to her, which made her smile softly to herself as she looks at the book in her lap but her head snaps up when the door opens to the library.  

[frosne-logner]

closed // victorywomansigyn

It had been a few hours since his long conversation with his mother, this taking place a few short days since she had seen Loki and Sigyn behaving quite warmly to one another at her weekly gathering.

He had been honest with his mother about the situation, feeling less apprehension about openness with her than with nearly anyone else. Frigga had been understanding of his feelings towards Sigyn, encouraging, even. Unlike what he still presumed the AllFather’s reaction would be if he knew, his mother was simply happy to see that her son had taken an interest in someone, especially someone as lovely and good-natured as Sigyn happened to be. Though he would do what he could to avoid sharing the information with Sigyn, it was Frigga who had suggested he make the effort to take her on a more proper outing than simply spending their time engaged in long conversations in one another’s chambers. ‘Ladies enjoy being treated like ladies,’ she had told him knowingly, explaining that Sigyn would probably quite enjoy being taken out on a actual date.

The idea had yet to occur to him, novel even in its simplicity. Frigga had never steered him wrong before, often gently guiding his efforts when he was not to stubborn to accept help, and thus, he’d crafted something of a plan. The gardens were lovely in the evening, alight with all colors, and seemed to be a suitably romantic location. It was a sensible plan too, in keeping with their usual routine enough to make the outing a surprise; though they had agreed to be more public, nightfall was still typically when Loki and Sigyn found their way into one another’s company. He doubted if she would suspect anything different was to occur, that evening.

He straightened his posture and took a deep breath, feeling a bit foolish for his nervousness, before knocking quietly on the door to her room.

[princeofmischiefandfrost]

All the symbols!!! (I do this a lot. Just being defiant.)

SEND ME A SYMBOL AND I WILL TELL YOU:

♪:A song (or two) that I associate with my character: Animal I Have Become by Three Days Grace

♥:Most wanted AU: I’m not sure, there’s too many

♦:Someone I follow and never roleplay with but enjoy watching from afar: both victorywomansigyn and ladythorofthunder

♣:The url I wanted but didn’t get: none, I love the URL I have.

♠:A character I desperately want to roleplay with: I want a Frigga and I want a Thor, and basically every marvel character to be honest

‽:An unpopular/unusual ship with my character that I love: Morloki (Morgana and Loki). It’s very unpopular I think but I love it. It’s my OTP.

✰:A reaction image I will probably never use: I don’t have one☢:Something about my character that I’ve never explored but want to: I’m not to sure, I’ll have to think about it.

☃:A character I played on a whim and gave up on: Lady Loki. It didn’t work out well. I wouldn’t say I’ve given up but I only go on that account about twice a month.

✌:A character I played on a whim and FELL IN LOVE WITH: An OC. The link is on my blog somewhere. 

❅:A character I’m tempted to play: Sif or Jane Foster, I’m not to sure if I’ll do it though

✔:What got me into roleplaying: I saw it and it looked fun so I decided to try it out. 

[frosne-logner]

the monsters we make of them | closed

“We never see other people anyway, only the monsters we make of them.”  ― Colson Whitehead

He stood in front of the tall, golden leafed mirror, examining the reflection he found there.

It was as though he were looking at another person entirely, so much so that he still found himself having to scour for minutiae to convince his mind that it was truly only his reflection that he was seeing; his breathing was in line with the way the blue reflection’s chest rose and fell, his movements mirrored back in perfect synchrony. Gone was the familiar sight of his own face, his pale skin and green eyes, replaced instead by the very image of what could only be considered a monster. Blue and marred with thin, almost decorative  lines tracing their way across the surface of his skin, and eyes that burned red.

It had become something of a masochistic ritual with himself to stare on at his reflection in this form from the moment he realized he was able to shift into it. It seemed that every so often, he felt compelled to remind himself of his true nature, of the monster that dwelled beneath the fine robes and handsome looks which allowed him to parade as not only an Asgardian, but also as a son of Odin’s bearing.

He enjoyed believing that this ritual served to better practice his skills of shapeshifting, the transition into and out of his natural state having required more diligence than a simple morph of any other human or animal, staunchly unable to admit that it fueled his negativity and allowed him to feed his addiction to his own anguish.

It was safe in his chambers to be in the form of his people, to look upon himself as Loki Laufeyson rather than the caricature of royalty he had adopted. His room was a place of sanctuary and solitude, where he could be alone with his thoughts, and on such occasions as this particular night, his misery. This shelter allowed him a much needed reprieve from being continually under speculation or observation, to lower his guard for a brief enough period of time that keeping it engaged at all other moments did not seem such a depleting chore.

The pure rush of panic and immediate fury that filled him as the heavy door to his room pushed open was indescribable; it was entirely unlike him to fail in securing the lock, though over time, he supposed small and repetitive details could begin to slip one’s mind. It didn’t matter why the door was now swinging open slowly, only that it certainly was.

The flash of overwhelming feelings that overcame him were ruining his concentration, making the already difficult transition from the appearance of a Jotun back to his more familiar form a damned near impossibility. He couldn’t get a moment’s clarity with the fear of being seen and the anger of being interrupted so unceremoniously flooding through his body, causing his heart to pound audibly in his ears.

There was too little time to remedy the situation as another form entered the darkness of his room.