c85be507e08

8 months ago

First-person POV, Loki’s hand presses against the cold stone of Asgard’s vault walls, the rough surface beneath his fingertips barely registering as his form flickers between reality and illusion. His palm glows softly, magic pulsing through his veins as he shifts into the shadows. Footsteps echo behind him—Heimdall. Loki’s smirk is unseen, but felt. He moves swiftly, hands adjusting the folds of his cloak as he peeks around the corner. The grand vault doors loom ahead, golden engravings shimmering under torchlight. A flick of his wrist, and the locks click open, unnoticed. His fingers trail along the intricate carvings of the ancient relic within, a hum of power vibrating through his palm. The game is set. Now, let them chase.

8 months ago

First-person POV, Loki’s hand grazes the edge of a golden goblet, slowly twirling it between his fingers as he reclines in Odin’s great hall. The air is thick with the scent of roasted boar and honeyed mead, the laughter of warriors echoing around him. Across the table, Thor’s thunderous voice rattles the hall, recounting yet another tale of battle. Loki smirks, his other hand idly tracing invisible patterns on the polished wood, his fingertips crackling with faint green energy. A subtle flick of his wrist, and suddenly, the warrior beside Thor finds his goblet transformed—now a wriggling serpent, its emerald eyes glowing. A gasp, a shout, a commotion. Loki leans back, his fingers tapping together, his smirk widening as he watches the chaos unfold. A harmless jest—at least, for now.

8 months ago

First-person POV, Loki’s hand grazes the edge of a golden goblet, slowly twirling it between his fingers as he reclines in Odin’s great hall. The air is thick with the scent of roasted boar and honeyed mead, the laughter of warriors echoing around him. Across the table, Thor’s thunderous voice rattles the hall, recounting yet another tale of battle. Loki smirks, his other hand idly tracing invisible patterns on the polished wood, his fingertips crackling with faint green energy. A subtle flick of his wrist, and suddenly, the warrior beside Thor finds his goblet transformed—now a wriggling serpent, its emerald eyes glowing. A gasp, a shout, a commotion. Loki leans back, his fingers tapping together, his smirk widening as he watches the chaos unfold. A harmless jest—at least, for now.

8 months ago

First-person POV, Loki’s hand effortlessly pushes open the grand golden doors of Odin’s palace, their sheer weight barely noticeable under his touch. The vast hall stretches before him, towering golden pillars reflecting the flickering torchlight. His fingers idly flicker with emerald-green magic, tiny sparks dancing along his knuckles. Seated at the far end, Odin watches, his singular gaze unwavering. To the right, Thor’s grip tightens around Mjolnir, his knuckles turning white. Loki lifts a hand, conjuring an illusion—his brother’s hammer, now floating just beyond his reach. The illusion shimmers, tempting, deceiving, before vanishing in a swirl of green mist. Laughter bubbles in Loki’s throat as he adjusts the collar of his deep black and gold Asgardian armor. The gods are watching, and Loki is ready to play.

8 months ago

First-person POV, Loki’s hand lazily rests on the silk sheets of his grand chamber, fingers slightly curled, a faint green glow flickering at his fingertips. The morning light spills through the tall, rune-carved windows, casting golden highlights over the rich emerald and black décor. His other hand reaches for a silver goblet resting on a nightstand, the untouched mead inside reflecting the shimmering Asgardian sunlight. The fabric of his robes brushes against his skin as he stretches, his smirk lingering. The room is vast, adorned with gold-trimmed Asgardian carvings, a throne-like chair positioned near the open balcony. Outside, the distant hum of the Bifrost pulses through the air, a constant reminder of the realms at his feet. Loki’s presence commands the space, exuding power, arrogance, and the anticipation of a day filled with mischief.