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Training

The clang of steel echoed through the empty training grounds, ringing through the crisp morning air. The sun had barely crested the horizon, casting long shadows over the stone courtyard where two figures circled each other, their blades raised, their bodies coiled with tension.

Trista’s chest rose and fell in rapid succession, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her sword. Sweat clung to her brow, but her eyes—sharp, defiant—never wavered from the man in front of her. Ronan stood just as still, his sword resting easily in his grip, though his golden-brown eyes burned with something unreadable.

Again.

Trista lunged first, her blade flashing as she aimed a strike toward his ribs. Ronan deflected it effortlessly, turning his body just enough to avoid the blow, their swords grinding against each other with a high-pitched screech. He shoved her back, forcing her to reset her stance.

“Faster,” Ronan said, his voice low, his usual patience nowhere to be found.

Trista clenched her jaw and launched forward again. This time, she didn’t hold back. She struck hard, fast, driving him toward the edge of the courtyard. He blocked, countered, spun her momentum against her—but she met him at every turn, her blade crashing against his with unwavering determination.

The threats of war whispered through the kingdom like a ghost, creeping into every corridor, every breath. There was no room for hesitation. No room for mercy.

“Again!” Trista snapped, her frustration bleeding through.

Ronan’s expression darkened. “You’re letting anger guide you,” he warned, side-stepping her attack and twisting her blade away with a sharp flick of his wrist. “That’ll get you killed.”

Trista’s grip tightened. “Then stop holding back.”

A glimpse of something dangerous flashed through his gaze. And then, without another word, he surged forward.

Their swords clashed with brutal intensity, the force of his strikes sending vibrations up her arms. He was faster than her. Stronger. More experienced. But Trista was relentless, pushing herself to match his pace, meeting him strike for strike.

A particularly fierce blow sent her stumbling, but before she could recover, Ronan’s boot hooked behind her ankle, sweeping her off her feet. She hit the ground hard, the impact rattling through her bones.

He was on her in an instant, sword angled at her throat.

“Yield,” he ordered.

Trista’s breath was ragged, her body aching, but she bared her teeth in defiance. “No.”

Her legs snapped up, catching him off guard. With a sharp twist, she knocked him off balance and rolled away before he could pin her down. She was on her feet in a blink, blade raised once more.

Ronan straightened slowly, beneath the cool control of his demeanor, there was something else—a flicker of approval.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. They stood in the morning light, weapons drawn, breathless from exertion. The space between them was charged, electric, thick with something unspoken.

She wasn’t just fighting to prove herself.

And he wasn’t just fighting to test her.

They both knew what was coming. The kingdom was on the precipice of war. And in that moment, with steel between them, they allowed themselves to be what they could never be elsewhere—unrelenting. Merciless. Honest.

Ronan exhaled, lowering his blade just slightly. “You’re getting better,” he admitted.

Trista lifted her chin. “I’ll have to be.”

His gaze searched hers, something raw showing in his eyes. And then, as if snapping himself back into place, he stepped away, sheathing his sword. “Again tomorrow,” he said.

Trista nodded, but neither of them moved. Because the truth was, in that moment, neither of them wanted to leave.

A slow clap echoed from the archway leading into the courtyard. “You're not done yet.”

I’ll post part two sometime soon..

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A Recount of Ronan Falling in Love with Trista

After nearly a year spent in the quiet seclusion of Phiodinata, Trista had finally planned a much-needed escape—a journey to the serene lakes of The Valley of Lingen, to be shared with her closest friends. Since the previous years’ council meeting, Ronan chose to remain behind in Phiodinata. His decision was rooted in a deepening bond with his brother, Leo. But what had started as a simple wish to stay close to family had slowly morphed into something more; Ronan had become an integral part of the kingdom's inner circle, his influence quietly growing as the days passed.

The evening air had already begun to cool when Ronan and Leo returned from gathering firewood. The fading light of dusk painted the sky in hues of orange and violet. Leo, ever the practiced sorcerer, cast a flick of his wrist, sending a spark to ignite the fire with a breathless flare. Ronan watched in awe as the flames roared to life—his brother’s magic never failed to mesmerize him. Wow. That never gets old.

As the fire crackled, Trista and Lada returned from their foraging, their laughter faint in the distance as they walked toward the camp. Trista had insisted on taking a short stroll to catch the last vestiges of daylight, her heart always drawn to the beauty of a sunset. Ronan’s gaze inevitably shifted to her as she approached. She was effortlessly stunning in a way that baffled him. Her hair, usually neatly arranged, was now pulled into a hasty bun, and her simple traveler's attire—dusty boots, worn trousers, and a plain tunic—only highlighted her natural grace. She was a queen, a commoner, a mystery, all at once. How does she do it?

Ronan barely noticed how long he’d been staring until a sharp nudge at his side snapped him out of his trance. Leo, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, whispered just loud enough for him to hear, “Everything good? You’ve been staring pretty hard.” His tone was teasing but low, careful not to catch Trista’s attention.

“Yeah, yeah. All good.” Ronan muttered, trying to mask the warmth creeping up his neck.

As Trista and Lada settled beside the fire, Ronan couldn’t resist the impulse to reach out, his palm gently tapping the back of Trista’s bun. “You look…normal with this hairstyle,” he said, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Trista whipped her head around, eyes narrowed in playful disbelief. Her brows furrowed, and she exhaled a frustrated huff, shaking her head. Ronan’s face flushed slightly, but he smirked, unapologetically rolling his eyes. “Sorry, I just thought maybe I could give you a compliment for once.”

She stared at him, her eyes wide with a mix of surprise and something else he couldn’t quite place. Then, with a dramatic roll of her eyes, she turned back to Lada, diving into conversation as though nothing had happened. But did he catch the faintest smirk on her lips?

The night stretched on, filled with laughter, stories of far-off lands, the clash of blades during impromptu sparring matches, and the gentle haze of too much wine. Leo, always the first to succumb to sleep, had already drifted off beside the fire. Lada was off gathering more firewood to keep them warm through the chill of the night. Trista and Ronan, however, found themselves still deep in conversation, the topic shifting effortlessly from one subject to the next: magic, politics, the customs of their homelands, and everything in between. They debated fiercely but amicably, enjoying the rare opportunity to engage with each other on such intimate terms.

But as the fire's warmth began to fade, Trista, ever the practical one, was the only one with a thick enough blanket to keep them both warm.

“Is there any chance I could borrow that blanket for a little while?” Ronan whispered, his voice careful not to disturb the peace that had settled around them.

Trista glanced up from her thoughts, her eyes soft with a quiet understanding. “We can share until I fall asleep,” she replied, a slight smile curling her lips. “Then I can switch to a lighter one.”

With that, they both slipped under the blanket. Ronan settled on his back, his body still awake with the tension of their conversation, while Trista curled onto her side, facing the fading embers of the fire. The silence between them stretched, but after a few moments, Ronan couldn’t ignore the stillness anymore. He tried to strike up another conversation, but Trista remained silent, her soft breathing barely audible.

He shifted slightly, propping himself up on his elbow to peer at her. Her breathing had slowed, rhythmic and steady. Trista was out cold, her face relaxed in peaceful sleep, the faintest snore escaping her lips.

Ronan’s gaze lingered on Trista for a moment longer, his thoughts drifting, as they often did lately. Since that fateful council meeting—when he had made the decision to stay in Phiodinatia, rather than return to his homeland—his life had shifted in ways he hadn’t anticipated. He had stayed, not just because of his bond with Leo, but because, in some quiet part of himself, he had chosen this life. What would it be like to stay like this longer? To spend more time with her, without the responsibilities that came with his decision? The thought stirred something deep within him—something unspoken, a quiet longing that he quickly dismissed. But tonight, with the fire fading and the world around them hushed in the darkness, he couldn’t deny it. Maybe tomorrow, he thought, maybe tomorrow would be enough to figure it out.

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My love for you? It is like the moon, gazing at the sun with a love that never fades, knowing it can never truly touch but forever yearns to.

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"I see you everywhere, in the stars, in the river, to me you're everything that exists, the reality of everything."

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this.

this blog may contain sensitive content (its me im sensitive)

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Recently, I’ve created a Spotify playlists of some of my favorite songs growing up and I realized…You can take the girl out of the emo, but you can’t take the emo out of the girl.🫣

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My soul misses your soul.

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Important Moments/Interactions

I’m sharing information about my characters into the void because it seems as thought nobody else cares.🤪

Trista & Ronan

Meeting (Ronan - 23 || Trista - 22)

Ronan and Trista met during a scheduled meeting with the councils of the surrounding races of the Kingdoms of Phiodinatia, Mokeavion, and the Land of Iogagar: elves, humans, dwarves, and orcs. This year happened to be the final year of Ronan’s knight training. In hopes that he might be persuaded to pursue a career in a safer noble field, his family forced him to attend; they were nobles of Mokeavion.

Trista, of course, had to attend as well because she had recently been announced to be the new heir to the throne of Phiodinatia. She was not supposed to be in the direct line of royals, but a clan of rogue orcs infiltrated a meeting of Phiodinatia’s nobles and royalty slaughtering all direct descendants. (The kingdom is largely inhabited by middle and lower-class citizens, as their noble line had intentionally been kept limited through generations of hand-picked marriages.) Since there were no direct heirs to the throne, the people and the High Mage let the spirit of the high priestess choose the next prince/princess. (This was a tradition that was established by the Old Guild when the kingdom was originally formed. This hadn’t been done in over 165 years, so many people were skeptical of this practice.) Everyone at the meeting was, obviously, skeptical of her. The room was full of murmurs and conversations that Ronan wanted no part of. He sat alone in the back of the room near his family waiting for the council meeting to begin.

Phiodinatia’s knights walked in and the room went silent. Everyone was expectant to see her, the new heir, soon-to-be queen. The knights entered and took their places and then Ronan saw something, no…someone, that made him sit straight up in his chair. A familiar face. Leo?! My kid brother is alive?! Leo entered with a silk green cloak embroidered with intricate gold designs and runes. He was carrying a beautiful wooden staff that was also adorned with gold symbols and words in a language Ronan didn’t understand. His hair was longer than Ronan ever remembered it being, it ran right past his collarbone bone. Since when did he like long hair? It was pulled back in a ponytail except for a braid behind his right ear. As tears began to well up in his eyes, Ronan felt a notion of relief as he realized his brother achieved what he had always dreamed; he became a wizard. (Phiodinata requires these braids for magic-users who were in or close to the royal family.) When did he get here? How did he meet her? Before Ronan’s mind could continue racing, she entered the room.

She wasn’t what he had expected, but on the other hand, she was? She wasn’t adorned from head to toe in jewels like the other royals. She was dressed in a long-sleeve deep blue gown that was adorned in the same gold embroidery that lined Leo’s cloak. Her wavy black hair was loosely pinned up in the front by braids that held her hair out of her face, the back of her hair nearly reaching her waist. Her eyes were piercing and she didn’t smile when she entered the room. She inhaled and exhaled, subtly, as if she was trying to calm herself. He was amazed at how beautiful yet…normal she looked. Yes, she looked like royalty, but she wasn’t gaudy. He took notice as Leo pulled the chair back for her to sit and they exchanged a soft smile with one another - were they close? He felt a little jealousy rise in him. Did she get to see my brother grow up? How did he become close with her, of all people? As they began introductions his suspicions were confirmed - it was Leo. He was so relieved that he had been taken care of for the last 11 years, but couldn’t shake the jealousy. Her name? Trista.

When the introductions had gotten to Ronan, he didn’t notice because he was so focused on Trista and Leo whispering to one another. He wanted to go hug his brother and ask him what he had been up to all of these years. The sound of someone clearing their throat brought Ronan’s attention back to the introductions. Voronwe, one of the high council elves of the land, was getting his attention. Ronan looked at him and realized it was his turn to introduce himself. He looked back at Trista and Leo and noticed they were both staring. Leo was as wide-eyed as a fawn. “My name is Ronan. I am from the neighboring kingdom, Mokeavion.” The introductions continued, but Leo and Ronan didn’t take their eyes off of each other. Trista took notice that Leo’s comments had stopped because she turned to look at him, as if to check on him. Leo mouthed something, but his eyes never broke contact with Ronan. Trista then made eye contact, smiled softly at Ronan, and nodded. What did he say? Ronan diverted his attention back to the meeting in an attempt to remove their attention from himself. Orc, orc, wizard, elf, human, human, half-elf, dwarf, human, half-dwarf, and the introductions ended.

Trista stood up and thanked everyone for their attendance. She was well spoken for someone of non-noble descent.

“Ronan. Could you stay after, please?”

She interjected at the end of her conclusion. Naturally, he had to agree. He'd look like a complete dunce if he turned her down. She invited four others, along with her personal guards, to stay in the meeting hall. Leo, Voronwe, Lada (Trista’s personal guard) and another woman stayed back, along with Ronan.

“Why not come sit at the table with us?” Trista asked. Leo still hadn’t said a single thing to him. Ronan complied as they all sat at a spaced out around the round meeting table.

“So you are the eldest son of the Covarde family?”

“Yes.”

“I thought the Mokeavion royals only liked their nobles to be politicians, trade masters, blacksmiths, or, at the least, bounty hunters and mercenaries. How did you become a royal night?”

Small talk? Really?

“No offense, your majesty, but I’m not in the mood for small talk. I’d like to have a moment alone with my brother.” Ronan replied sharply.

Trista’s demeanor shifted as the words left his mouth. Her eyebrows furrowed and she entwined her fingers while staring at Ronan. Trista’s eyes reminded Ronan of the glaciers he used to climb as child, cold and unmoving. Leo glanced over to her and gently put his hand on her shoulder while whispering. She took a breath, her body relaxed, and a gentle smile returned to her face.

“Well, first things first, please call me Trista. There is no reason that we need to call each other by bureaucratic names. I understand that you two have a lot of catching up to do, so I guess…” She looked over at Leo as if to get confirmation and Leo nodded. “You two can step outside into the hall and talk about whatever you would like. I need to speak with the other three anyway.”

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The Costumes of the Marvel Cinematic Universe: Loki Laufeyson (2011 - 2023)

Featuring costume design by Alexandra Byrne (Thor, The Avengers), Wendy Partridge (Thor: The Dark World), Mayes C. Rubeo (Thor: Ragnarok), Judianna Makovsky (Avengers: Endgame), and Christine Wada (Loki).

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Ahhhhhh.💔

THOR (2011) / LOKI 2x06 (2023)

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me & my favorites from each gen

(I have so many favorites from each generation that this took me WAY longer than it should have.)

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Epic, my love.🫶🏼

animation for epic^^

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KATIE MCGRATH as MORGANA MERLIN — 3.01 • The Tears of Uther Pendragon

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My OC’s Information

Trista - Queen by Tragedy

Race - Human

Class - Sorcerer

Background - Haunted One/Inheritor

Alignment - Neutral

Ronan - Royal Blood, Knight by Choice

Race - Human

Class - Fighter

Background - Noble/Knight

Alignment - Chaotic Neutral

Leonardi - Banished Wizard, Kind-Hearted Lover (Ronan’s Brother)

Race - Human

Class - Wizard

Background - Noble/Sage

Alignment - Lawful Good

Lada - Kind-Hearted, Vicious Fighter

Race - Human

Class - Fighter

Background - Soldier

Alignment - Chaotic Good

Voronwe - High Elf Council Member, Forest Elf by Choice

Race - High Elf

Class - Sorcerer

Background - Noble/Sage

Alignment - Lawful Good

Skadi - Barbarian Loner & Adventurer

Race - Half-Elf (Human)

Class - Barbarian

Background - Hermit/Far Traveler

Alignment - Chaotic Neutral

Alistair - Hard-Hearted Noble Striving for Power

Race - Human

Class - Rogue

Background - Noble

Alignment - Chaotic Evil

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Reblog because drawing prompts.👀

Romantic Scenarios About Him

When you're about to cry and he does that "hey, hey" thing

2. When you're walking on the sidewalk together and he moves spots so that you're away from the road.

3. When he laughs so hard he throws his head back and pulls you in his arms

4. When he gets nervous from you staring at him so closely and keeps switching his focus between your eyes

5. When it's windy so he holds back your hair while you eat ice cream

6. When you see him looking for you over a crowd of people

7. When you give him a claw clip to hold on to and he's super intrigued by it and opens and closes it shut for an hour

8. When he guides you through a crowd with a hand on your back

9. When he bends down to hear what you're saying

10. When he places a hand on your forehead after you mention passively that you feel unwell

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NOT my art, but I did draw on top of it to create a closer version of my characters!

I can’t wait to start drawing again soon! ;’)

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my blorbos