d012d2d24d0

7 months ago

First person POV. The grandeur of Asgard stretches beneath a night sky littered with stars. Loki stands on the edge of a golden balcony, the vastness of the cosmos reflecting in his sharp green eyes. The camera lingers on his face—no smirk, no mischief, only a quiet contemplation. The trickster, the outcast, the unloved prince. His fingers tighten around his dagger as he exhales slowly, his thoughts an enigma even to himself. A cool wind brushes through his raven hair. In the distance, Thor’s laughter echoes from the feast hall. Loki does not turn. He remains in the solitude of the night, where his true self—whoever that may be—can finally breathe. --ar 9:16 --s 250

7 months ago

First person POV. The grandeur of Asgard stretches beneath a night sky littered with stars. Loki stands on the edge of a golden balcony, the vastness of the cosmos reflecting in his sharp green eyes. The camera lingers on his face—no smirk, no mischief, only a quiet contemplation. The trickster, the outcast, the unloved prince. His fingers tighten around his dagger as he exhales slowly, his thoughts an enigma even to himself. A cool wind brushes through his raven hair. In the distance, Thor’s laughter echoes from the feast hall. Loki does not turn. He remains in the solitude of the night, where his true self—whoever that may be—can finally breathe. --ar 9:16 --s 250

7 months ago

First person POV. The golden feast hall glows under the torchlight as gods and warriors revel in celebration. The camera moves through the lavish table, capturing roasted boar, overflowing goblets, and the deafening laughter of Thor slamming his mug against the table. Loki sits, poised and detached, emerald robes draped elegantly, fingers idly spinning a dagger. The tension is palpable as his piercing green eyes flick toward Odin, then to Thor, then to an unsuspecting warrior bragging of his strength. A slow smirk curls on his lips. He leans forward, voice like silk yet laced with venom: "Strength is admirable, but wit… that is power." The air stills for a brief moment before he leans back, the trickster ever in control of the game. --ar 9:16 --s 250

7 months ago

First person POV. The golden feast hall glows under the torchlight as gods and warriors revel in celebration. The camera moves through the lavish table, capturing roasted boar, overflowing goblets, and the deafening laughter of Thor slamming his mug against the table. Loki sits, poised and detached, emerald robes draped elegantly, fingers idly spinning a dagger. The tension is palpable as his piercing green eyes flick toward Odin, then to Thor, then to an unsuspecting warrior bragging of his strength. A slow smirk curls on his lips. He leans forward, voice like silk yet laced with venom: "Strength is admirable, but wit… that is power." The air stills for a brief moment before he leans back, the trickster ever in control of the game. --ar 9:16 --s 250