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vbecker10 · 2 days

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Loki's Silent Sentry (alt. ending Part 1)

Part 2

This is meant to be read after part 2, instead of the original parts 3 - 7

**Seriously please do not read this without reading the trigger warnings**

TW: fire, life threatening injury, blood, death of a main character (if you message me I will tell you who in case that will change if you read this or not), mourning the loss of a loved one, loss of a family member, having to mourn in secret, depression, feeling alone, brief mentions of previous loss of parents, inability to move on, guilt

(Please let me know if I missed anything and I will add it)

A/N: I wrote the fluffy, happy ending for this story but I got this song (tagged below) stuck in my head and it felt like a really tragic way to end this story. The idea just kept getting more depressing and heartbreaking so I had to write it. I understand this is not for everyone, it's not even something I would usually read.

Please, please do not feel the need to read this because we are mutuals or because you read the happy ending version. I will absolutely not be offended if you skip it.

...Last chance to turn back lol 🫣

You close your eyes as he pulls you tighter to him, you are sure he can feel your heart pounding in your chest. "Are you really here?" you ask in a whisper. You fear he will vanish like one of his illusions the second you let go of him.

"I'm here my love," he reassures you. He kisses the top of your head and you look up at him. "Follow me," he says in a low voice.

You smile and nod, telling him, "You know I will follow you anywhere."

He takes your hand and leads you into the room he came out of. You can see he has been busy with his magic, his abilities have always thrilled and impressed you. The magically altered office is twice as large inside as it should be and is an exact replica of his chambers. You look around in awe and can't help but wonder if this isn't an illusion but one of his transportation spells.

He smiles with pride at your reaction and puts his arm around your waist, pulling you close to him again.

"How did you do all of this?" you ask. "Its amazing... you're amazing," you tell him as you turn in his arms to face him.

"I'm afraid the young corporal spent has a large portion of her time this week dutifully guarding my empty office," he jokes and you laugh with him.

He smiles and kisses you, his hands traveling up and down the back of your thin shirt as he hold you close. "Stay here with me tonight," he says between kisses. He doesn't say it as a prince ordering his sentry but you obey his request without a second thought.

It is almost five months since your new Sunday night routine with Loki began. He would slip through the palace with ease after he dismissed his sentry for the night and you would take a left at the top of the stairs after his mother released you.

While hidden away, surrounded by his illusion, the two of you could pretend everything was perfect. You love him with all of your heart and he loves you back just as fiercely. He would kiss you and hold you and tell you that you were his but the moment the sun came up, everything would change. You always did your best to hold back your emotions as you put your armor on and returned to your silent duties.

It devastated you every time you needed to leave him but you kept your pain to yourself. You were afraid to ruin the small window of time you had with wishes and false hope that things could somehow be different.

You stand silently outside of the queen's office and let the smallest smile slip when you notice Loki coming down the hall. He offers you a brief smirk in return as he comes to a stop in front of you.

"Lieutenant Y/L/N, is my mother in a meeting?" he asks you.

"No, your highness," you respond, shaking your head slightly.

"I would like to speak with her for a moment," he tells you and you nod.

After knocking on the door, you wait for her to open it then step out of Loki's way. As he passes you, he carefully slips a folded piece of paper into your palm and you close it quickly. He goes inside, pausing for barely a moment to lock eyes with you before closing the door behind him.

You return to your position next to her door and tuck away the note for later, Loki's sentry stands at attention on the other side. You glance over at him quickly, you recognize him but can't recall his name. He had only graduated the academy a month ago, he was far too new to be guarding someone of Loki's standing but that was precisely why he had been selected. Loki had taken to choosing soldiers with limited experience and often replaced them every few weeks. He said he did this so they were less likely to notice he was slipping away to visit you but you joked that it was because he would never be able to find a sentry to fill your place.

The door opens fifteen minutes later and both the queen and Loki step out into the hall. She closes the door behind her and says, "Prince Loki is going to visit the blacksmith and I've decided to get some fresh air and go with him."

You and Loki's sentry nod to acknowledge the plan. You both follow mother and son down several hallways and winding staircases until you finally reach the steps leading to the courtyard. As you step out into the sun, you take a deep breath and close your eyes for a quick moment. The palace air could be stale at times and you always welcomed a chance to spend even a few minutes during the week outside.

Its almost a twenty minute walk to the blacksmiths, past the stables and a well used for the horses. The apprentice steps out of the one story wooden structure to pick up a few cords of wood that are stacked neatly out front. He opens the door and yells something to the man inside, presumably that the queen and prince are coming. He opens the door and bows his head as they walk past to enter, you smile at him a bit to hopefully help ease the young boy's nerves.

The blacksmith bows to Loki and the queen as they enter and the boy shuts the door once you are all inside. You can't help but look around, you've never been in here before but Loki had told you about his frequent visits. You can feel the heat from the tall fires of the forge off to your left and the breeze that flows through the open windows at the far end of the building. Large timber rafters line the steeply pitched roof and a small rainbow shines onto the sawdust covered floor, caused by the colored glass in the door.

Your attention is drawn back to Loki, as it always is when he is near. He begins talking to the older man, the apprentice's father you assume due to how similar they look. They discuss the knives Loki had previously ordered, a set of two daggers with black leather handles and gold inlays in the shape of a coiled snake. You try not to smile at how obviously Loki his request is.

Your focus shifts to the apprentice, he can't be older than nine or ten you think. He takes something from his father and brings it to the office space in the back then returns with a wooden box containing different types of metal to select from. The queen joins in the conversation with her son and Loki's sentry leans against the wall near an open window, staring off into the forest beyond.

You keep your eye on the boy, watching him run from one errand to the next for his father. He brings things to him and is waved off to find something else, only to do it again. In between helping gather the materials, he continues to feed the forge. He has added at least four logs since you arrived, surly that was plenty to keep the fire raging, you think but truthfully you know little about blade work and forging swords.

Several more minutes pass, Loki and his mother are deeply engaged in conversation with the blacksmith who has easily convinced Loki to get a second set of knives. His sentry has disappeared into his own little world while you continue to observe everyone quietly as you stand near the door.

You stretch a bit and cover your mouth as a yawn slips free, you should really stop reading until the sun comes up, you scold yourself. Suddenly you stand up straighter and sniff the air again, breathing deeply. You can't quite place the smell but the heat from the forge has gotten stronger. Your eyes immediately find the boy who is frozen with fear as he looks into the fire.

Blue flames erupt from the metal and stone enclosure of the forge.

Without thinking, you move to the young boy and grab him by the arm, pulling him away from the rapidly growing flames. Once his feet start moving, you push him in the direction of the door and look for the queen. As soon as your gaze is away from the forge you hear metal grinding and a loud crack as the chimney buckles under the sudden and immense increase in temperature.

You look back to see the fire spark and spit embers onto the sawdust spread over the floor. Walking backwards from the forge, your eyes move up as the fire spreads to the roof of the structure. Smoke quickly begins to fill the air and your eyes sting as you fight to keep them open. You watch in horror as one of the rafters on the ceiling splinters from the flames and you run towards the queen, you know the building won't be standing much longer.

You keep your arm around her waist until you've guided her safety outside. She takes a few steps away from you and sits heavily on the grass, coughing from the smoke. You look back towards the burning building, the roof already partially collapsed as the trusses are destroyed by the flames.

Smoke billows out of the open door and you quickly turn to count that everyone is out. The queen, the blacksmith, his son, Loki's sentry... but not Loki.

"Loki!" you scream, scanning the field in front of you in the hopes that you somehow missed him. You rush to his sentry who is on his hands and knees coughing and gasping for fresh air. "Where is he!?" you demand.

He shakes his head and doesn't respond, you grab his arm and pull forcefully, making him look up at you. You can see the fearful tears in his eyes but his feelings are not your concern, not while Loki is still missing. "Private, where is the prince?!"

"I don't know," he cries. "I just- I just ran- I don't-" you let go of his arm and turn from him, unable to listen to his excuses.

You look back to the fully engulfed building and without a moments hesitation, you run through the open door.

"Loki!" you call for him, you cough painfully as you inhale the ash and smoke. You crouch and shield your eyes as the glass in one of the windows near you shatters. "Loki!" you scream as loud as your lungs will allow. You move forward, towards where he had been when you last saw him with his mother.

You cough harder as the flames surround you and you get low to crawl under the ever thickening smoke. "Loki!" you scream again, your heart racing as tears stream down your cheeks, making it harder to see.

"Y/N," you hear Loki faintly over the crackling of the fire and get up to run towards his voice.

Your heart pounds in your chest when you see him, trapped under part of a collapsed beam. He struggles to lift the large piece of wood, it's edges blackened by the flames growing closer. You grab the end of the beam nearest to Loki and lift while he pushes, it moves but not enough. Your grip slips and he screams in pain from the sudden movement. Your eyes fix on the blood that slowly starts to gather at the corners of his mouth, adjusting your grip you get ready to try again.

Before you and Loki can make a second attempt, a nearby section of the roof collapses. You instinctively use your own body as protection against the falling debris shielding his face and upper body, you hold back a cry as ash falls onto the exposed skin on the back of your neck.

"Y/N, please get out of here," he tells you, his voice hoarse when you sit up.

You shake your head no and tell him, "I won't leave without. Help me lift this."

Again, he pushes with what little strength he has left and you pull with every bit of strength you can gather. The beam moves enough that you can free him. You grab Loki under his arms and pull, he cries out every inch until he is fully clear of the beam. It devastates you to cause him pain but you have no choice. You wipe your tears on your arm and without letting go of him, you tell him you are sorry but you can't stop. You know if you do, neither of you will make it out.

You lay Loki on the grass behind the burning building, ignoring the sound of a wall giving way and kneel next to him. His fingers are dripping with blood as he reaches for you.

"Y/N," he says softly but you shake your head and avoid his gaze. You are too scared to look at him, you know he wants to tell you goodbye.

"I need to stop the bleeding," you say with as much determination and hope as you can force. You move to check his chest wounds and your heart shatters, your mind spins in shock and disbelief as you rip open the rest of his torn and bloody shirt. "No no no," you mumble to yourself in denial.

You move your hands to his chest in desperation, trying to cover the largest break in his skin but his fingers close softly around your wrist, keeping you from touching his wounds. Looking into his eyes, in a gentle tone he simply says, "Stop." His grip on your wrist loosens but you can't accept that there is nothing you can do for him.

You shake your head no again, "Please Loki..."

He tries his best to smile but the blood in his mouth makes him cough violently. You move so you can gently rest his head on your lap and you run your fingers through his hair damp. He raises his hand again to stroke your cheek and you close your eyes at his touch.

"Y/N," he says just above a whisper and you lean closer to hear him. "I knew you would come for me," he coughs and spits out a bit of blood. "You always followed me..." his voice trails off.

You smile through your tears and tell him, "I will follow you anywhere, I promised you that I would."

He continues to slowly stroke your cheek, wiping away your tears but leaving a light trail of his blood, "I'm sorry my love, but where I go now you cannot follow."

"No, Loki please," you cry, "I love you."

"I will always love you Y/N, more than anything in the nine realms," he says softly as his breath grows still and shallow.

"Stay with me," you plead, taking his hand in yours. "You're all I have left. Please stay with me," you beg him. "I love you. Please don't go, Loki, please."

His fingers slip from yours and you look down at his lifeless body, your chest tightens as you struggle to breath. You feel as if your heart is physically breaking, the pain is unbearable and consuming. "I'm so sorry Loki," you apologize over and over. "I was supposed to protect you, I should have protected you. I'm sorry, please."

"Loki! Loki!" the queen's voice rips through your grief and guilt as the rest of the building collapses, the fire still raging. You look up and see Frigga running towards her son, her eyes full of fear which turns to anguish as they met yours.

Getting up, you walk slowly backwards, your body on autopilot as you distance yourself from mother and son. She let's out an agonizing scream, a sound you will never forget, as she falls to her knees next to her youngest son. She cradles him in her arms and kisses his forehead, whispering to him as she rocks slowly.

You stand motionless a few feet from Loki's body and his mother, your breathing becoming more ragged as your chest tightens. You barely register the dozen or so workers who struggle to keep the fire from spreading across the field or the soldiers running with Thor.

"Mother! Loki!" Thor calls as he sprints around what is left of the building, desperately searching for his family. He gets closer and stops suddenly when he sees his younger brother laying in his mother's arms.

Frigga looks over her shoulder and Thor begins to slowly walk towards her, you can do nothing but watch his expression change as the reality of what he is seeing hits him. As he gets closer, she looks back down at Loki, wiping away some of the blood from his face gently. Thor kneels besides her, his hand on her back and she quietly says, "Loki is gone."

Your knees buckle at her words and you collapse onto the grass. You cover your face with your hands as your body shakes violently from the force of your sobs.

Loki is gone, your thoughts echo the queen's words. Loki is gone and it is your fault, your guilt adds. Loki is gone and you couldn't save him. Loki is gone but he shouldn't be. Loki is gone but you were supposed to give your life for his. Loki is gone.

You stand at attention in the center of the throne room in front of the royal family, the council and every high ranking officer from the royal guard. You keep your eyes straight ahead, focusing on a small detail on the wall beyond Odin as he speaks. You are too afraid to look anywhere else but slowly your focus drifts to the queen and where Loki used to stand.

She holds Thor's arm for support, her gaze fixed to the marble floor beneath her. Your chest aches at the sight of the queen in her black mourning gown and you hate yourself for wishing you could wear one as well.

This morning, every soldier in the royal guard was given a thin black piece of fabric to tie around their arm in memory of the lost prince. For five minutes, you struggled to tie it properly before a fellow sentry finally offered to help you. The members of your unit and palace staff no longer made mocking comments about the favoritism Loki showed for you but they would never understand the depth of your grief.

As a sentry, it was against protocol for you to show any emotion while on duty and that was especially true in your case. As far as the king and council were concerned, you meant nothing to Loki and it was made clear to you yesterday that you were not to mourn for him publicly. A part of you didn't care, what could they do to punish you that was worse then the hell you were currently living in. You didn't have the strength to disobey the king, however, it took every ounce of strength you had to simply get out of bed each morning. So here you stand, surrounded by nearly a hundred people, trying with all your might to keep from falling completely and utterly apart.

Frigga slowly looks up and your breath catches when you see the tears in her eyes. She doesn't seem to see you though, it is almost as if she is looking through you, her mind unfocused on the ceremony taking place.

You force yourself to pay attention to Odin as he continues his speech about what is being called "a tragic accident". The phrase sounds like nails scrapped across metal to you and you brace yourself so as not to shiver every time you hear it.

You were still not sure what exactly caused the fire to burn uncontrollably but it was quickly determined that the boy meant no one harm. He and his father had been cleared by the council of any wrong doing and were granted a small sum to rebuild their forge. You wish the boy well and hope he isn't being plagued by nightmares as you are.

Loki's sentry, however, is to be sentenced this afternoon. The day after the fire, he was brought up on numerous charges and subsequently dishonorably discharged from the royal guard. You had stood as a witness at his hearing, forced to recount every detail of that horrific day.

You hear Odin droning on but your mind can't seem to absorb what he is saying. You continue to watch him though, knowing it's almost time for you to play the part of the noble hero.

He gestures for you to step forward and you follow his command, kneeling when you are just a few steps from him. He walks towards you and says, "Lieutenant Y/L/N, you are being awarded the Medal of Royal Protection for your actions during the tragic accident three days ago. This honor is bestowed upon sentries who have risked their lives to save, and attempt to save, a member of the royal family. Thanks to your bravery, my wife, Asgard's queen was escorted to safety."

He pauses, his eyes finding Frigga before he turns back to the crowd of soldiers and council members gathered around you. "We are all heartbroken over the loss of Prince Loki. My son's life was woefully cut short... far too short," his voice trails off for a moment and you think he may let his emotions show but he clears his throatand continues. "But that does not overshadow your extraordinary act of heroism. You risked your life by going into a burning building and in doing so, you have given us the chance to say goodbye to Prince Loki properly, which is what he deserves."

Your throat feels like it is closing, your eyes sting as you fight desperately to keep the gathering tears from slipping free. Your head pounds as you prepare to receive a medal for saving the queen but not saving Loki.

"Lieutenant Y/L/N," he motions for you to stand. He takes a round golden medal with a red ribbon from a council member and pins it to your dress uniform. "Asgard and I thank you for your continued commitment to protecting and serving the royal family," he says and you feel nauseated by the applause that spreads through the throne room.

This is the song that inspired me, if you listen to the end you will see why. Again... I'm sorry to everyone who reads this that I hurt you but I just needed to get this story out of my head. If you want the happy ending version please read the original part 3 (linked at the top) 💙💙

If you did like this, please like, comment and share! Thanks! 💚💚

@siconetribal @soubi001 @lulubelle814 @newtomofgods

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dynamic-power · 7 months

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Steve and Eddie meet accidentally at the quarry one night in 1984. It's well past midnight, and Steve is sleeping in his Beemer (because his nightmares keep waking his parents) when Munson's van rolls up.

Eddie's bloodied up pretty good, thanks to Tommy and Billy, and Steve, who was recently concussed by a dinner plate and Billy Hargrove, helps clean him up. They talk. And when Eddie decides it's time to go home and face his uncle, they leave on amicable terms. They aren't friends, exactly, but steve feels like they understand one another.

Then it keeps happening. Steve keeps coming to sleep at the quarry, and Eddie keeps finding him there. The first few times, he's got excuses. He got locked out, his uncle had someone over, he wanted some fresh air. But Steve becomes more and more sure that Eddie is there for him.

After a couple weeks, Steve's parents leave again, and Steve starts sleeping at his own house, and he and Eddie still see each other because they are friends now.

By the time New Years 1985 comes around, Eddie is a fixture in Steve's living room.

By graduation, Steve realizes he might actually be a little into Eddie.

He takes it in stride. Weirder things have happened, Steve's attraction to Eddie Munson isn't even top three.

But then Eddie kisses him. And it becomes a problem because Steve never wants to stop kissing him.

Steve's coworker, Robin Buckley, catches them making out in the back at the end of June, but that doesn't matter because Henderson is catching bits of Russian code and Buckley is cracking it and those Russians are right under their feet and then there is a monster trying to bring them all down.

After the "mall fire," Steve drives himself home in his ruined uniform, covered in his own blood and still a little dizzy from what he's sure is a concussion. He pulls into his driveway and begins to cry in relief when he spots Eddie pacing his front porch.

Eddie pulls him gently from the car and wraps Steve up in his arms. He cleans Steve up and doesn't leave his side even as Steve tells him everything, NDAs be damned, and Eddie listens and doesn't run when Steve is finished. He believes him, no questions asked, and Steve realizes he doesn't just love Eddie, he's in love with Eddie.

And so Steve goes into the rest of the year with a boyfriend and a new best friend, and despite everything, a new sense of optimism.

Until, of course, the spring of 1986.

After spring break, Steve finds himself at the quarry, sleeping in the Beemer because his nightmares are waking his parents.

His nightmares in which Eddie dies in front of him, over and over and over and-

#i might write this #i might not #idk man #i just needed to get this out #steddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson #stranger things #whump #steve harrington whump #dyno writes

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dystopia-incognito · 2 months

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Forgive me Tumblr, for I have sinned.

And oh, btw, I might've written a fanfic as well. 👉👈

(please, for the love of everything, let the tags be a warning, okay?)

#the coffin of andy and leyley #andrew graves #ashley graves #im finally drawing again #but at what cost #tcoaal #you guys are so sweet #thank you #im not a writer #i just needed to get this out

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whyyyyyymehhhhh · 21 days

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I’ve been having a lot of vil brain rot lately.

I feel like vil would make you live at pomefiore because “dust isn’t good for your complexion” and the ramshackle is VERY dusty. So he would be like “oh, it’s just not good for you, potato” when in reality he just wants to spend more time with you. But like he doesn’t want to say it cuz his ego is too big.

#vil schoenheit x reader #vil shoenheit #twst wonderland #i just needed to get this out #big ego vil

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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 7 months

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Ok so now that I've spent some time thinking about the whole "Chuuya was never a vampire" twist, I... still don't like it. For many reasons.

Here's my explanation; if you want to read it, please do. I strive to be fair. I want to wait for the manga release before making a verdict on whether it's bad writing or not, and I also want to see the start of next arc to see where they're going with all this.

If you don't want to read it, and you're having fun with the twist (it is funny. I will admit that much), then skip this and keep having fun! I don't want to ruin anyone's enjoyment.

First of all. It makes no sense. There are things that just do not add up. There was never an indication this was a possibility.

Bro. Did you put on costume makeup for the texture under your eyes? Did it wash off after nearly getting drowned and you had to frantically reapply it behind Fyodor's back and that's why we couldn't see your face for several chapters. Did you take it off again for your dramatic reveal here at the end? I demand smeared undereye makeup Chuuya in the manga when it releases hbfsdjhbfv

Ok this was more a joke. But here's what really irks me.

From what I can recall, this is. True. He needs to have made contact to manipulate gravity. It's also re-established in this very arc.

Great. So how the fuck did he slow the elevator? He was with Fyodor in a separate room! This makes no sense. Did he leave to stop the elevator and Fyodor was like "oh chill. ok come back soon"??? What?!

Here's another thing I want to address:

@ticklinglady I had this same question. However, on thinking on it again, I do have an answer that makes sense - they had to buy time for Sigma to use his ability on Fyodor, to gain knowledge on him about what he knows, and what his ability is. <-I feel confident in saying this is going to be important later. Sigma will still have a role to play and we will find out more about Fyodor!

Alright. Moving on to the themes, and why this also doesn't work (at least for me).

The theme in this arc is very much to do with the contrast between trust vs control. This is Fyodor's failing when it came to Dazai, and it is established very early on as the major contrast between them, in the Sky Casino arc. The vampires, though it seemed silly and random, fit nicely into that theming. And the conclusion, where Dazai showed extreme faith in Sigma and the Agency members (and what an interesting contrast that is; to have someone show faith in ordinary humans when his foil is a man who has faith in god but not humanity), that fits into that theming also. Ok, so this was an extension of that right? Showing faith in Chuuya, as always.

Yeah, no. I want to direct your attention back to this here.

This line is the one that had everyone going "oh man skk is going to fuck you up for that". I made an entire analysis back when this chapter first came out about the themes that we saw, and Fyodor's utter devaluing of the effectiveness of people beyond just their skills and abilities (it's here, if you're curious). This is why I suspected that, since Dazai and Fyodor are intellectually matched, it would have to be Sigma and Chuuya to catch Fyodor off guard - because he only values what people can do, not who they are.

Well, we got a little with Sigma, before Fyodor took control of the situation again. (Rip buddy.) Sigma's tenacity and unwillingness to fall for Fyodor's manipulating him away from helping the Agency was based off his personal choice and free will. He managed to shoot him! Fyodor was reduced to a cheap trick to get close enough to stab him! There was a certain level of payoff.

But Chuuya? I want you to think for a second. What did he actually do? Not a single part of this was Chuuya's idea. It was Mori's - he was at the very least sent undercover under orders, if not sent to Meursault under orders. He didn't even glue his own fangs in apparently. Now let's go over what he did. Why was it so necessary that it be Chuuya there? Well, obviously because gravity manipulation was needed to slow the elevator and the bullet. Oh... hm. So. His ability. Was what was needed, huh?

But it was necessary for it to be Chuuya because of the bond between him and Dazai, right? Oh. Wait. So, Chuuya's personality and goals don't matter - only his ability to read Dazai.

This twist makes it so Chuuya as a person doesn't actually throw a wrench into Fyodor's plans at all. All that matters is that he is Mori's executive and Dazai's partner. I guess he was "utilized" after all. I thought, with his characterization in Fifteen and Stormbringer, that we were moving away from this characterization of Chuuya only by his bond with Dazai. Do you want to scream.

You might be saying, okay, but at the very least it showed the depths of Double Black's bond! ...did it? Not really, at least not to me. The only impressive part of any of this was Mori's preparedness. This was barely an skk plan. It was a Mori plan. Double Black placing their lives in each other's hands is a Tuesday for them. This is nothing we didn't already know. And truthfully, it goes nowhere near the level of sheer trust we saw in Dead Apple. Mori sent Chuuya in sure, but it was only after everything settled down that he realized that Mori suspected Dazai would need help. Before that point, it seemed everyone thought Dazai was dead except Chuuya. Chuuya chose to jump out of that plane. Chuuya chose to risk his life. It showcased his personality, his free agency, and the level of trust they had far, far better. And it was emotionally satisfying! Dazai was extremely grateful that his trust paid off! Chuuya was somewhat conscious during Corruption, enough to weaken his own punch and shout Dazai's name! Dazai prevented Chuuya from having his ability be separated from him by the fog! They are an unbeatable team... but they were still left exhausted, and had to rely only on each other. How does what happened in this latest episode compare to that in a way that makes me believe they've actually outmaneuvered Fyodor?

Listen. I'll take twists that don't really have a great build up if they further the themes or character development, or it just makes for good drama. There's an interesting pay off, at least, so I say "okay, okay. Could've been done better, but I'll let it slide for the intrigue." But here? Nothing. It was boring. Are you bored.

Anime watchers were probably more fine with it. Maybe it was a little disappointing, but oh well. But manga readers have been having this plot dragged out for years. A lot of said fans (including myself) were excited to see Chuuya become main series relevant and receive present day development - and it seemed like we were going to get that with the recent publication of not one, but two Chuuya backstory novels, and the drama of this arc pitting Dazai and Chuuya against each other. Instead, this did absolutely nothing of interest for his character. Why was he even here?

Which brings me to the last point, which is the characterization.

Going back and re-reading this entire arc now, it becomes one big stage performance. Ok, fine, it's a little funny. But now there's hardly anything of value to these interactions. The only ones that actually matter are Fyodor and Sigma, and Fyodor and Nikolai. All that buildup to drama between Double Black, to another incredible display of trust, to something shifting and changing from the status quo... all that build up, and nothing has changed for Chuuya, or for Double Black. The show of trust wasn't even that dramatic really. Are you bored still.

This also weakens Fyodor's character to me. Fyodor witnessed their incredible show of trust in Dead Apple. I assumed he was prepared for skk-typical bullshittery, you know, being a genius on par if not greater than Dazai. You're telling me he was so overconfident he completely missed that Chuuya wasn't a vampire? Really? Fyodor really had nothing in place that would verify whether the vampires were actually under control? He wasn't constantly checking for a plan? It really was just red eyes and fangs, and he thought that was fine? That's it? Ok.

Truthfully, I was kind of :| about several of the preceding twists in the Meursault arc, particularly the dagger Fyodor pulled out when he started acting to Sigma, and the door railing being preemptively crushed by Chuuya before the drowning started. The dagger was actually ornate in the manga, which raised several questions - it couldn't have come from a guard. It made me think there was more to that interaction than just Fyodor pretends to have a split personality and that there was actually something to that knife. Well, it was made to be a regular knife in the anime, so I guess theorizing across those lines are dashed.

What bothered me the most though was the crumpling of the rail to stop the door from completely closing. There was no indication of this in the manga. None. No one could've predicted that - because it's stupid. The water filled so fast it couldn't get out of the crack in the door, even though it was huge??? Dazai was in the control room - you're telling me that there was no security camera focused on the door??? You know, where you would position a security camera??? It was dumb to me, but I was willing to roll my eyes and move on because I was expecting a good payoff to all this, and well, it was funny.

But now, the whole arc is one extended joke skk were playing on Fyodor. And you're telling me that's how our major antagonist goes out? Our major antagonist of several arcs? Be for fucking real.

And depending on when Dazai figured it out, it may even cheapen earlier scenes. If he found out after the elevator slowed like people have been theorizing, I could accept that. That's fine. But I need people to recall: in the actual episode he states "it was all an act".

Is Dazai probably lying to save face? Sure. But as of this moment we actually have no evidence it wasn't an act from the beginning. Remember that Ango was communicating the whole time with Dazai. Remember that Mori was involved and helped Tanizaki and Kenji get to safety. It's entirely possible it was all premeditated.

One last suggestion: the plan name was "Good-bye" as suggested earlier. This means that even if Dazai didn't know from the beginning, he knew by the time of his speech to Chuuya as he was drowning.

This means that his whole scheme with Sigma was not an extremely dangerous, life-risking play on his part at all (@daz4i has gone to explain why this sacrificialism isn't good for a suicidal character, which I recommend reading, but nonetheless it was still notable characterization for Dazai). And what about this?

Even his own flashbacks and memories were, what? A lie? A performance? For whom? Not for Fyodor, that's for sure.

For us. The readers. For the people who are invested in these two and their dynamic. For the people who wanted development between them, because there are actually issues there that have not been resolved. People wanted Dazai to show real concern. Chuuya is still bitter, even if Dazai thinks everything is fine and the same since he left. There was a tease that we're going to get how Chuuya felt when Dazai left the Mafia at some point in the future. People were making angsty art and writing and getting really excited because all the prior interactions had appeared to be set up for the payoff of this drama.

We get an introduction in the dungeon. We reveal their partnership and fearsome reputation during the Lovecraft fight. They perform flawlessly in Dead Apple. Throughout all this, they need no communication. They read each other and respond in tandem, always... but there's still an underlying tension in the way they do not talk to each other. I, and many others, had thought the prison escape arc was the breaking point for some development, since their prior appearances were all meant to establish them as a team, and this arc dealt heavily with the breaking of established things.

But no. Deus ex skk is perfect. They have no issues or flaws. Do you want to scream again.

Anyways. I recognize I'm probably just very disappointed right now and by tomorrow, I probably won't care anymore and will just roll with it. I think I was extra disappointed because while I tempered my expectations for, say, Yosano and Kyouka's involvement (sigh...), I fully expected skk would be handled well, being the fandom faves and where the money is at, so I guess I took the disappointment that much harder.

However, I'm eager to see how the manga tackles the ending, and if we will get any extra cues or better pacing there that may make me not quite so bitter. If it's any consolation, I do think we'll be getting Chuuya focus at some point in a future arc, and while I do think Fyodor is dead, I doubt he will have stopped haunting the narrative. He'll be back in some capacity. I'm pretty certain he's still the mastermind.

And I'm curious about the next arc and what's happening there. Maybe some things will be revealed later that will help smooth out the flaws here.

#storyrambles #listen by tomorrow i'll probably be totally chill and whatever about it #i just needed to get this out #bsd #bsd season 5 #bsd spoilers #bsd negativity

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missroller15 · 8 months

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warning tbona spoilers incoming !!!!

💗💕💞💖💕 appreciation post to stephanie garber for writing fmcs that can truly embrace their femininity without ever feeling ashamed, that her girls can wear the prettiest dresses in the world and have the most courageous kind souls but would fight to the death for those they loved.

appreciation for her fmcs that aren’t perfect, that are absolutely flawed in unique ways but grow over the course of the books, that openly LOVE love! that love isn’t frowned upon, that it plays such a vital part at the core of her stories. the fmcs fight for love and for the people they care about. they make messy messy choices but they learn.

they have different dreams, different hea endings!! and i love how thats narratively absolutely okay !!!! how each girl’s happily ever after is unique to them and appreciated and validated !!! scarlett always wanted her kingdom and she found her perfect flirty prince in the end like she wanted !!! tella wanted the adventures, to always see the world and have her right hand man right there to experience that with her and she got it !!! eva wanted her true love, she wanted to be someone’s everything, to have a love powerful enough to break curses and she deserves that, she has it she found someone who reversed time FOR her !!!

but what i’m saying is: every girl’s dreams and hopes and happily ever afters are different but that doesn’t make one superior to the others. their femininity isn’t seen as a bad thing, their kindness or selflessness or feeling such a wide range of emotions from rage to fear to heartbreak/sadness isn’t seen as weak. its so refreshing to see books like this. i’m a hopelessly romantic girl so to see that makes me so feel understood, so represented and inspired !! it makes me feel hopeful personally. anyways, stan stephanie !!! stan her fmcs !!! 💘💕💞💗💕

#i just needed to get this out #eva scarlett and tella were such beloveds girlies idc #i adore her books sm they’re so beloved and precious to me !!!#caraval #legendary #finale #ouabh #tbona #acftl #stephanie garber #evangeline fox #scarlett dragna #tella dragna

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extreme-unorthodox-cuddles · 4 months

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GRRGRGGRGARRGHHGG I LOVE SOFT GENTLE PREDS!!!! I love preds who give their prey friend a hug before swallowing them down! I love preds who make sure their prey is comfy at all times! I love preds who give their prey comfort when they're feeling low! I love preds who give their prey filled bellies soft gentle pats to remind their prey that they are safe and loved! I love preds who give a gentle comforting look to nervous and/or first time preys and lets them go at their own paces! I love preds whose top priority is that their prey is happy!

Ok rant over thank you for listening <3

#soft vore #safe vore #extreme cuddling #sfw vore #vore thoughts #vore talk #I just needed to get this out #I do very much like soft cuddly vore very much

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guide-to-world-domination · 1 year

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I can’t stop imagining spider becoming an absolute badass, like the amount of ideas literally keep me up at night. For example, imagine that one day, Neytiri just goes off on Spider and says the most foul things to him - stuff that was so horrendous, even people who equally hated Spider being around had to try and calm her down, because what she was saying was completely out of line. To spider, he’s heard this all from the People, the Scientists, the McCoskers - but Neytiri always strikes a cord that can’t be fixed or shrugged off easily. The only thing that snaps him from his thoughts, was what Neytiri said next while she was being pulled away from the situation.

“You will never be One of the People. Your father is a Demon, and your mother is worse for ever loving him and producing such Spawn”

There it is the breaking point. Spider has always turned the other cheek when it comes to people that insult him or insult him by comparing him to his father. He always found that retaliation and tantrums only proved his accusers assumptions correct. But nobody. Nobody insults his mother. Spider could have screamed back and shouted bloody murder at her, but at this point, he just doesn’t care. She isn’t worth trying to prove himself to. His siblings know who he is, that’s enough.

From that day on, he doesn’t go to High Camp again and doesn’t wear his loincloth. He starts wearing cargo pants and tank tops, but he keeps his armbands, knife and jewellery. He wants to come into his own identity, but he can’t shed what remains of his past life (trying to be part of the Omaticaya). Personally, I don’t think that Norm and the other Scientists wouldn’t care too much about what spider does until he crosses a line or breaks a rule that they haven’t outright told him (that kind of behaviour is traumatising, I would know 🙂). So when figures out to give himself piercings and tattoos, they are livid. They are shocked at the transformation - where painted blue stripes used to be, there were inky black stripes that passed over every limb and even on his face; where dirty brown locs used to be, golden blond hair was fashioned into a Viking braid reaching down his back (similar to a kuru).

The only person that understands and doesn’t overreact is Max. Personally, that man was a dark horse in his family before he came to Pandora, I know it in my soul (Headcanon coming soon or after this post). He takes it on himself to support Spider and nurture his clear talents. He wishes he could have raised spider as his own, but knew that he would be shunned by his colleagues for raising his son - he couldn’t be seen as a disgrace after his time as a child.

Spider had a number of talents and skills, including Engineering, Chemistry, Languages, Marksmanship and martial arts. Max helped to nurture each and everyone. Some days, he would have Spider build and repair weapons and tech. Other days, Spider would learn chemical reactions or a new language. Every evening, Max would instruct Spider in combat and would exercise and lift with him to encourage him. Over the course of a month or two, Spider was unrecognisable. He took in information like a sponge and soon Max was running out of things to teach him. Piloting Samsons and Scorpions - took a few tries, but Spider was truly a born pilot like Paz. Stealth and parkour - He was already a natural, but he was fooling Na’vi warriors more often than not after a week of practice.

Eventually, when Jake started performing raids on RDA Trains, Spider knew it was time to put this all into practice. You see, deep down, he still wanted to prove himself to the People, but not so he could be one of them. He wanted to prove himself, to show them what he forged himself into despite them. However, he knew Jake would never approve him going along - he was still a child. The thought to Spider was ludicrous; Spider never believed he was a child, because no child goes through what he did and remains a child. So he decides to go anyway and doesn’t bother with permission. Though, he does ask Max, who understandably forbids this from happening. After reasoning that he would be safer if he got support to complete this venture, Max relented after hours of back and forth.

And thus, Araña was born. Imagine Winter Soldier getup (Hydra-controlled Bucky, not White Wolf armour) where the half mask acts as his rebreather so he doesn’t risk glass from a regular mask entering his eyes. All manners of weapons are strapped to his body including an Assault Rifle, a revolver (nobody knows that it was actually Quaritch’s revolver that delivered the fatal shot to Grace), A bow and quiver, a LOT of knives and a grenade or two. He looks terrifying but despite this Max feels proud - not about his boy going to fight in a war that has devastated everything he loves, but because this kid, his son, has stepped into his role as a defender and Max is proud of how far Spider has come to reach his goals.

Queue Spider being the biggest menace to RDA society that has ever existed. There was no reason for the Na’vi Ground forces to blow up the rail line, because Spider had already hijacked the train and pulled the breaks. The look of an anonymous Sky Person swing around the train killing and disarming grown men confused everyone in the raiding party, especially the Sully’s. There was something familiar about the acrobatics of this mysterious warrior, the answer on the tips of their tongues. It was only after Spider saved Lo’ak and Neteyam from the missile strike, that everyone realised who this person was. Nobody believed it until Spider spoke and then all he’ll broke loose.

I apologise if this too long or weird, I just needed to get this out of my head. I’ll definitely be adding to this given time, regardless of whether or not people like it, and the only thing that can stop me is my undiagnosed AuDHD.

Farewell to all, Yours sincerely,

Your Favourite Evil Overlord

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circular-bircular · 5 months

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“You can have DID without trauma!”

Vent art. Mod “Armageddon.” Tw for COCSA and general abuse.

You are a system. You have DID. You do not know this.

You go through 15 years, not knowing this — just existing in a haze, having such a bright childhood, one you grasp for later in the dark moments, trying desperately to hold onto it.

At 15, you realize, wait. I think something’s wrong. You realize you don’t feel like “yourself” — and even more alarming, you don’t know who “you” even are. You hear voices, suddenly, in your head. You find notes you clearly wrote, but it’s someone else’s handwriting, someone else’s words to “you.”

You just need to figure out who “you” is.

You go to your sexual abuser abusive romantic partner best friend because your abusive neglectful overbearing parents would never understand, or might be too worried about you. You ask them, “What’s wrong with me? I’m scared. I’m confused. I feel like I’m going to die.”

They smile. They want you, they need you to stay, and to stay you can’t be scared. “Don’t worry — that’s normal.”

You sigh in relief. Thank goodness. You’re fine. You’re okay. Nothing is wrong. The voices are just normal things everyone else experiences. The fun imaginative things in my head are normal. The fighting, screaming, sobbing, fear, need to run, need to love, need to help everyone while fully believing you’re about to get hit, or touched, or watched, always watched—

Don’t worry. That’s normal.

You are a system. You have DID. You do not know this.

You are 19. You’re not sure when that happened — isn’t time silly that way? You are normal. You were a bit “quirky” and “cringy” in high school, roleplaying a lot. You do not remember the voices in your head. You do not remember their names. You do not remember two entire years of high school, and you do not remember that you have forgotten.

You see a student presentation in class about a story, and how the main character could be read as having dissociative identity disorder. “The symptoms come from childhood trauma,” the student says, “but people don’t always remember their trauma.”

She describes the symptoms. You feel… weird. Why does that sound so familiar? So normal? You laugh a little and look around, expecting everyone else to be rolling their eyes at such an obvious observation. How ridiculous of psychologists to diagnose a very normal thing, right? But everyone else is nodding along, very interested, and the professor praises the student for her psychological lens, and “valuable research gathering on a rare disorder.”

You don’t remember going to your dorm, or the test you took that day online. The next thing you remember is not being “you” anymore, because “you” is locked in a room in your mind, and now you’re someone else, sobbing at the website you’ve pulled up. It’s about dissociative identity disorder.

You’re not you. You’re someone else.

You go to your best friend. You tell them everything at 4am, sobbing because you don’t know what to do anymore, and you’re scared, because you don’t know who you are.

“You’re not crazy. This isn’t normal, but you aren’t crazy. I believe you.”

You breathe for the first time in years months weeks days.

You are 19. You have DID. You think.

There’s only one problem; you don’t have trauma. You do. It’s there. They hurt you so much, you idiot, why can’t you hear the voices screaming that at you? So what on earth are you experiencing?

You try to research it. All you have is a DSM-III and resources on multiple personality disorder. And, of course, tumblr — your home away from home.

You find a war happening. People with trauma versus people who say they have none. They all seem to hear voices, and many are angry and struggling and confused, just like you. You must be like these “plurals” you’ve seen. The ones without trauma but with DID. That’s not what that was, and you know that now, but it’s was so hard to tell back then.

You join them. “I have DID,” you say, “but I don’t have trauma.”

“That’s okay!” They tell you. “You can have DID without trauma.”

What a relief. You’re normal. You’re fine. You’re not like those anti-endos, you’re told. “They medicalize their systems,” you’re told, “and their therapists are abusing them.” You feel so bad for those poor systems. They’re not like you; you’re fine. You’re normal. Unlike them.

You try to avoid the traumatized ones, but you see so many of them getting angry. They keep yelling about these people who don’t have trauma, who are “appropriating a disorder” — that same disorder you clearly have, but you don’t have trauma.

You crash your car while dissociating so hard that you hallucinate your parts headmates around you. And you are happy, because at least you have a family to take care of you. Isn't it so nice to see your parts headmates in real life?

You're normal. It's okay. You don't have trauma. You don't need trauma to be a system, and you love being a system. No you DON'T, the parts scream, you're dreaming! Wake up! Wake up, please, god, don't let that woman hug you, don't you know what she did--

You keep moving on.

Then you see the arguments that spark something in you. “You need trauma, but the age range is wider than you’d think.”

Your sexual abuser abusive romantic partner best friend from high school. There’d been that time you fell out with her. That time you blew up at her because she’d kissed you in public, blamed you for teasing her too much. You realize how little you remember.

What else have you forgotten?

“I have trauma but it’s well past the age range,” you say to an anti-endo, knowing you shouldn't have spoken to them, because everyone tells you not to -- but none of them are traumatized, and this person is. “What’s wrong with people having this disorder without trauma?”

“There’s decades of research on this,” you’re told. “It sounds like you do have trauma. Consider that you might have some you don’t remember. Otherwise, you don’t have DID.”

You are 19. You have DID, you know it. You ignore this person. “These other people told me I don’t need trauma. You’re just gatekeeping. You’re just wrong. I’m not traumatized. I’m not like you. I’m better.”

You go to the ones who comforted you, listened to you, manipulated you. "I have trauma, I think, but it's past the age those anti-endos talk about, how ridiculous are they?"

"I'm so proud of you for standing up to those sysmeds! A lot of us have been traumatized because of how people treat our system. I'm sorry those anti-endos traumatized you."

"Well, it wasn't them -- but you're right. Anti-endos are traumatizing. They've traumatized me."

You believe the lie you spread, because they spread it first, and it sounds right. You do not mention that you learned you were sexually assaulted by a peer as a child. That would just be trauma dumping, and that would make you no better than a sysmed.

You are 19. You’re “cured” of your DID, because the plurals around you say that if you like your system, you don’t have DID. They say if you can’t remember your trauma, you probably don’t have any, and “most DID is caused by trauma, you just might be a disordered plural.” They call you endogenic, or mixed-origin, or autigenic. Trying to suggest you have DID leads to them talking about those horrible traumatized systems DID systems disordered systems anti-endos.

“You can’t listen to them. You can’t reblog from them. They’re homophobic, racist, transphobic, bigoted, ableist, wrong. Any information they share is ableist.”

You listen. You always have. You roll your eyes good naturedly at them suggesting you don't have trauma -- they just meant your system isn't caused by trauma. They just misspoke. That's all.

... But what if they're right?

You are 20. You are a ????? system. You say you have DID, because you are disordered and fit all of the criteria, and you can have DID without trauma. Maybe you are just plural?

You start getting into fights with systems online. You spread misinformation your experiences. Anyone who disagrees with you is an ableist gatekeeper. You get fakeclaimed and it hurts. Now you are traumatized by anti-endos. You try to avoid them more, falling deeper into those circles that include everyone, including you. They must love you. They love everyone.

You see a post about trauma. You realize, slowly, so so slowly, your parents have hurt you. You remember everything. No??? You remember so little, the voices scream, sob, you can’t remember it because you’re not even trying to. Why bother trying when you can live in denial, and keep getting abused each time you go home, and keep getting hurt worse and worse every single weekend?

You are 20. You are a DID system. You have trauma. You know some of it.

You go to your manipulators harassers friends. “I figured it out! My system was formed my trauma!"

“Oh, you poor soul, who told you that?”

You feel cold. “What?”

“Those awful anti-endos fakeclaiming you-“

You feel isolated. “No?”

“You can’t listen to them. You’re autigenic. You’re being manipulated. You don’t have trauma.”

“My parents-“

“They love you, that’s not abuse. They were rich, that’s not abuse. They only yelled at you, that’s not abuse. You aren’t traumatized — don’t let the anti-endos convince you that you are.”

You are desperate. “But my DID!”

They frown at you. “You don’t need trauma to have DID. Saying otherwise makes you a sysmed."

You leave your friends. They weren’t friends at all.

You isolate. You have nobody. You made it clear that you would not speak to the filth anti-endos traumatized systems like yourself. You have nobody left to talk about your trauma with.

You are 21. You are a traumatized DID system. You only have your partner and in real life friends. Your abusers force you to drink on your birthday, and come into your safe space. You have nightmares for weeks.

Then you’re 22 and you are stuck with your abusers. You can see their faces now. You know the truth. You feel sick.

You are 23. 24. 25. You find new circles. You've researched trauma more, not nearly enough. You briefly become anti-endo, frustrated as you see more and more people hurt like you were, frustrated that the pro-endo spaces do not have any resources for those like you. Then you mellow, you try to divorce your trauma from your experience online. You try to find places to spread research and knowledge, to be traumatized and have people recognize what that means.

You are attacked for being traumatized, because this space has never been safe for trauma victims. You remember how you used to think when you were 19. You remember how you felt when you were left all alone. You try to keep the doors open, but it's so so hard, and you have to take care of yourself too. But you try. God, you try to help others.

You are 26.

You are in so many circles — endogenic, plural, CDD, traumatic, traumagenic, it doesn’t matter. You have so many people.

You see people telling others, “You don’t need trauma to have DID!” You take a deep breath and follow what your disgusting medicalist inclusive and welcoming therapist has taught you about stopping spirals. You try not to say anything deep at first, because you’re clearly triggered, and recent lessons have taught you more that you need can’t be traumatized online without getting hurt badly.

But you see people denying their trauma. Saying, “I don’t remember any trauma, and even if I did have trauma, I don’t feel like I do."

You remember being that way. You remember not remembering. You remember how your parents sexually abused you, now, even after you thought you’d remembered it all. You remember how your parents hit you and neglected you alongside their overbearing lack of boundary keeping. You remember how you convinced yourself it wasn’t trauma.

You remember how you went back, for years, because of what people said.

You could have left at 19. You had the chance. The options. The doors to freedom were wide open, and you did not step out, because you thought your cage was already freedom.

How much sooner could you have been free if you had simply acknowledged you had trauma, and it had been made clear that it was okay to have trauma? That it would be safe to leave? That you deserved to be able to leave?

You do research. You've done research. You try to find proof of endogenic -- of non-trauma -- DID. You find fakeclaiming. You find people misinterpreting statistics, or even flat out lying about statistics. You find decades, even centuries of research, in the attempt to figure out what's happening. You even resort to literary analysis, because at least you might be able to find evidence of people discussing non-trauma DID as a legitimate scientific thing while psychoanalysing old texts -- just like back at 19, back in college, back when you first heard what DID was.

You find nothing.

You try to share your experiences still. You try to explain in more private spaces, spaces where there can't be anonymous hatred flung your way -- or worse, people who have determined that you are an enemy that must be defeated taking each word you say and twisting it to demonize you -- and you watch in horror as they remember.

"That's trauma?"

"That's disordered?"

"I've never heard of this before."

"I thought I was endogenic. I thought I didn't have trauma."

They're fine. They struggle -- but trauma is a struggle -- and more importantly, they now know what resources to even aim for. They know where to look. They know what can help.

You wish you'd known that.

And you will never, ever stop being bitter about the years those people took from you. You will never forgive them for their fakeclaiming. You will never forgive them for the years you spent being abused more.

But it's okay.

It's normal.

And isn't it better to be inclusive of that very slim amount of people who, despite all evidence to the contrary, and despite all of Occam's understandings, and despite the harm that inclusiveness does to those who are suffering, just have DID without any of that pesky, disgusting trauma?

What do I know? I'm just a filthy sysmed.

#venting #syscourse #You can reblog this #I don't mind #But I won't be responding to anything on this post I don't think #I just needed to get this out #Armageddon Comes While I'm Sleeping #tw csa #tw cocsa #tw abuse

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nell0-0 · 6 days

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Too tired to draw, what is this curse. I wanna draw so badly but can't even focus on the screen, augh

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vbecker10 · 2 days

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Loki's Silent Sentry (alt. ending Part 2 - final)

Part 1

Alt. ending Part 1 is meant to be read after part 2, instead of the original parts 3 - 7

**Seriously please do not read this without reading the trigger warnings**

TW: death of a main character (if you message me I will tell you who in case that will change if you read this or not), mourning the loss of a loved one, loss of a family member, having to mourn in secret, depression, feeling alone, brief mentions of previous loss of parents, inability to move on, guilt

(Please let me know if I missed anything and I will add it)

Please, please do not feel the need to read this because we are mutuals or because you read the happy ending version. I will absolutely not be offended if you skip it.

...Last chance to turn back lol 🫣

You walk through the common room of the soldier's quarters, your head down as you desperately try to escape to your room. Several people congratulate you on receiving your award this morning and you nod vaguely to each as you pass by.

Slamming closed the door to your room, you rest your back against the wood and close your eyes as you breathe deeply. Your fists clench as your mind replays the king's words of praise. Heroic, brave, loyal, dutiful, all the things a good soldier should be you were but you were still not enough to save the one person on Asgard who mattered to you.

You reach for your chest and your fingers brush against the cold medal Odin pinned to you. Opening your eyes, you rip the medal from your uniform and throw it across your room. You pay no attention to where it lands, you want it as far from you as possible.

You pull the end of the black fabric tied around your arm and let it fall to the floor as you walk to your bed and sit down heavily. You bend down to pry off your heavy boots and when you sit up your eyes catch the painting of your parents that you keep next to your bedside.

Picking up the small frame, your fingers trace their faces slowly. Your father has been gone for nearly ten years, his life given defending the Bifrost from a Jotun attack. Your mother was killed while protecting the queen's father when you were still a child. You hold the picture tightly to your chest. Your mother and father, your grandfathers, three of your aunts, your uncle, your cousins... you slowly list the members of your family who gave their lives in service to the crown and the realm.

You slowly lower the picture to your bed as the thoughts that haunted you before you met Loki returned. You are once again completely alone in this world. No family, no true friends, no one to love and to love you in return. Loki was the only person you were able to connect with in recent years and he knew you were terrified of being alone, of being the last one left. He promised he would always be with you, that he would never leave you alone but you made him break that promise when you failed to save him.

You get up from the bed and walk angrily across the room. You swipe everything off the top of your dresser as you scream. Glass bottles shatter and items slam to the ground around you. You are not a hero, you are not brave, you did not do your duty. You move to your small bookshelf and grab the books by the handful, throwing them to the floor, crying tears of anger and regret and guilt and pain. You should have died protecting Loki, you should have died in his place. He should be alive, your mind screams as you pick up a small metal box you keep on your desk and throw it against a wall.

You stop suddenly as dozens of folded notes spill out of the broken box, walking towards the pile slowly you wipe away your tears with the back of you hand. You sit on the ground next to the pile and pick up one of the pieces of paper which fell out. The one you picked is still neatly folded, not like the others you've opened and refolded after having read them over and over. This is the note Loki passed to you shortly before his death, you have not been able to force yourself to read it. You hold it tightly to your chest and try to hear his voice but all you can hear is your own.

You lost the love of your life and you will be alone forever. Loki is gone and it is your fault.

You stand next to Captain Skye as Commandant Thorn prepares to read the charges for Loki's former sentry. Odin sits on his throne and Thor is seated next to him, the queen is not in attendance this afternoon. Only selected council members are present and a handful of soldiers, all captain or higher except for you.

The private kneels in the center of the room, a guard from the dungeons on either side of him. His hands are bound behind his back and he hangs his head low.

You force yourself not to look at him, to keep your eyes straight ahead and your expression emotionless. Last night you visited him in the dungeon and agreed to speak on his behalf even though you know it will have no effect on the outcome. Your captain informed you that he is going to be made an example of. Regardless of his low rank and lack of experience, his one duty above all else, was to keep Loki safe and he failed to do so.

You feel a pit grow in your stomach as a member of the council motions for you to come forward. Your heart pounds as you take your place next to him, he looks up at you and you can see how lost he is. A part of you wishes you could place the blame solely on him for Loki's death. If he had done his duty, Loki would be alive but you can't. You know in your heart that he had been purposefully selected because of Loki's desire to see you.

You take a breath to steady yourself. "It is my professional opinion as a lieutenant in the royal guard that Private Rok is far too young and inexperienced to have been allowed to guard Prince Loki. There is no doubt or argument that he did not follow his training or his duty but he is only one month out of the academy. There is a reason sentries are meant to spend their first year after training shadowing more senior sentries. It is so they can understand the enormous responsibility that comes with being a sentry. Guarding a royal or council member is more than silently following them around the palace. A sentry must truly be willing to lay their life down for the person they are protecting and unfortunately Private Rok was not willing or ready to do so," you look at Odin as you speak.

Odin sits back in his throne and asks, "Who is responsible for assigning this soldier to Prince Loki so soon after completing his training?"

The room is silent until you realize he is asking you. "Prince Loki requested him," you answer but give no further explanation. The last thing you want to do is make it seem as if you are attempting to say Loki's death was his own fault.

Odin nods and is quiet for a moment, the whole room waits for him to speak again. He motions for you to return to your place next to Captain Skye then he stands. You hold your breath as he sentences the young man to fifty years in the dungeons.

Two days later, you open your eyes to the sound of the morning bells. Loki's funeral is at sunset, you remind yourself as you sit up. You throw off your sheets but you can't find the strength to stand, you've cried it all out. Sitting motionless, you look around your room and sigh as you flex your bandaged hand. You had cleaned everything yesterday and cut yourself more than once on broken pieces of glass. The black tie and medal you "earned" sit next to the painting of your parents, waiting for you to put them back on.

Forcing yourself up, you take a few steps from the bed and go still when someone knocks on your door. You have no idea who it could be, the soldiers you live with have all giving you their condolences for the prince and congratulations on your award. There was no one left who would wish to see you.

You shake your head and decide to ignore whoever it is in the hopes that they will go away, you do not have the mental capacity for small talk today.

After a few moments there is another knock and you suddenly realize how quiet it is. The drone of constant talking and laughing that radiates from the common room is gone. Even at night, there is always chatter as the shifts vary greatly, someone is always awake.

You take a deep breath to steady your nerves and open the door. Your heart stops as you come face to face with the queen. You are so shocked you freeze, forgetting to bow or greet her or even blink it seems.

Her new sentry stands just to the side of her and says, "The queen would like to speak with you, Lieutenant Y/L/N."

Your heart aches at the thought of inviting the queen inside your private space, Loki had never been to your room before. There was never a chance for you to show him the book where you pressed the flowers he gave you or sleep with him on your bed so your sheets smelled like him. He hadn't seen the painting of your parents or your childhood stuffed animal. There were so many things you still wanted to share with him but you would never be able to now.

You shake away your thoughts and step out of the way so she can enter, her sentry remains outside. Closing the door behind her, you keep your eyes down and take a few steps away from her. You are terrified to be near her, afraid she blames you for Loki's death as much as you blame yourself.

"Y/N," she says softly and you look up slowly to meet her eyes.

She looks as distraught as you feel and without thinking, you begin to apologize, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-."

She moves quickly and wraps you in a tight hug, cutting off your words. You break down as soon as you are in her arms, she is the first person who has hugged you since Loki passed. Unable to hold back your tears any longer, you cling to Loki's mother while you shake from the force of your sobs.

When you finally let go of her, you wipe your eyes and apologize again, "I'm sorry your highness, I-"

"Shh," she pulls you back into her arms. "You have done nothing to be sorry for," she says quietly and you nod but you don't believe her. She takes your hand and leads you back to your bed, sitting on the edge she motions for you to join her.

"This was not your fault, Y/N," she tells you as you sit close to her.

"I know but..." you want to believe her.

"I don't blame you and you know Loki doesn't either," she says and you look up at her.

"I just... I need you to know I really tried. I tried so hard but I just... I couldn't get to him fast enough. I couldn't find him. I wanted to, I needed to save him but I couldn't," you try to wipe your eyes but the tears come to quickly. "I know my duty was to protect you and everyone calls me a hero because I did but..." the thought that haunted you at night slips free. "I didn't save your son, how could I be a hero? He died because I failed."

She pulls you into her arms and rubs your back lightly. "The outcome does not make you a hero, your actions do. I have never doubted that you did everything you could to bring my son back to us," she says softly. You nod and she adds, "He would never want you to let this eat away at your beautiful spirit."

You look up at her and rub your face with the back of your hand. "I know how much Loki loved you and how happy you made each other," she says, her eyes full of tears but she smiles. "He told me so many wonderful things about you and his hopes for your future together. You truly were his whole world."

"And he was mine," you tell her, your heart aching at the knowledge that he told his mother he was planning a life with you.

You take her hand, "Loki, told me how lucky he felt to have you as his mother. He said you were always there for him." She smiles as tears roll down her cheeks. "I want you to know how much he and I appreciated all of your help after the ball. I never... I never thanked you for giving me that extra time with him on Sundays. I cherished every second we had together but I wish we had more time. I would give anything for just one more day with him."

"So would I," she agrees.

You sit together in silence for a moment then she says, "There is a reason I wanted to see you this morning." She wipes her eyes and clears her throat before giving you the best smile she can gather in the moment.

She reaches into a pocket on her black gown and takes out a small golden box with a snake etched into the top. "Loki would have wanted you to have this," she offers it to you.

You shake your head no, your heart sinking as you open the box. A thin gold band with diamonds around a large emerald sits on a dark green piece of velvet. You touch the ring slowly, running your fingers over each gem then you close the box quickly as you feel your head spinning.

You look up at her and she is holding a folded piece of parchment paper. She sighs deeply and looks at the paper without unfolding it, running her fingers along the crease, "He figured out how to bypass the marriage law..."

You look from Frigga to the box in your hands and find it hard to breathe as she talks. Your hands shake as you hold the box tighter.

"He was going to propose during the Harvest Festival next month..." she says. "He wanted to do it in front of all of Asgard so no one would ever question how in love you two were."

Your heart shatters at hearing how close you were to being Loki's. One more month and the two of you would have had your happily ever after. You open the box again slowly and take the ring out, you slip it halfway onto your finger and stop. You whisper no and you begin to take it off but Frigga puts her hand over yours.

"You should wear it," she says, "And you should be with his family tonight."

"I can't..." you look down. "I'm supposed to be on guard during the procession," you explain but she shakes her head.

"You will walk with us," she says simply. "It is what Loki would have wanted."

"But the king said I'm not to mourn him in public, it would be..." you worry about his reaction to seeing you at the funeral.

"Leave the king to me," she says in a determined voice. You can't help but smile a little when you remember Loki once telling you that Odin may rule Asgard but Frigga ruled Odin.

"You are not just a soldier. Odin and the council may try to deny it, but you were not just his sentry nor even his friend," she sighs deeply and takes your hand again. "You should have been allowed to be his wife, Y/N. It is what you both wanted and deserved. I'm sorry these idiotic political issues kept you two apart while he was alive but I refuse to let anything stand in the way of you grieving him the way you should."

You can barely believe what you are hearing and you are at a loss for words.

Loki's body is dressed in full armor with his horned crown, his favorite daggers crossed over his chest as he rests in a wooden boat, surrounded by flowers from the garden he shared with his mother. The king and queen walk a few steps behind as the boat slowly floats towards the water. Civilians, council members and soldiers line either side of the long path, heads hung in respect and mourning. You walk next to Thor, your black gown flowing around you gently in the light breeze, your hands folded tightly together so you can feel the ring he wanted to give you. Tears stream steadily down your cheeks but you hold your head high and continue on.

The dark water ahead grows closer and when you see the mist from the falls beyond, your feet refuse to walk any further causing you to stumble. A hand reaches out and catches before you fall.

"I have you," Thor assures you, tears in his eyes as you take his arm for support.

"Thank you Thor," you look away as he fails to hold back the first of many tears. "I'm sorry you lost your brother."

He nods quietly and walks with you a few more paces before he says, "I'm sorry sister. I had not known how much you meant to Loki, I never would have treated so you poorly if I knew the truth. I only ever wanted my little brother to find peace and happiness. It seems as if he had found both with you."

You grip his arm tighter as the boat gently slips into the water, guided forward by Odin's magic. Odin halts a few feet from the edge of the water but Frigga continues to follow the boat until the hem of her dress becomes wet from the soft waves. Thor leaves you so he can stand with his father but you follow the queen. You cannot bear the thought that this is as close to Loki as you will ever be again. You want to follow him out into the water and over the falls to his life after this world.

All of Asgard watches in silence as Loki's body floats across the water in the wooden boat. Odin taps his scepter once on the sandy shore and the sound echos, somewhere behind you a single archer let's loose a flaming arrow and your heart stops. The boat catches instantly and your knees give out as he draws closer to the edge of the great falls.

You hit the ground hard and watch from your knees, tears streaming down your cheeks as the boat vanishes from view. Loki's spirit is set free, hundreds of beautiful green orbs float towards the sky above. You watch until the last light fades into the stars and cover your face with your hands to quiet your pained scream.

A few days after Loki's funeral, you accepted the queen's request to return as her sentry. Over the last month, you have force yourself to rejoin the world around you but inside you feel as if you are still drowning in your grief.

Every second you stand alone in silence outside of the queen's office is spent reliving past conversations with Loki. Each hallway you walk down holds a memory from your time spent following him as his sentry. The winding staircases where he held your hand secretly or stole a kiss when no one was around cause your chest to ache. You can't breath inside the palace, the very air reminds you of him.

Today is Sunday, a day you used to look forward to above all others, a day where you were once able to show Loki your love for him and feel his love for you. The queen opens her door and steps out, there is no need for her to tell you where you are going. You already know the destination.

You follow Loki's mother into the garden and a wave of emotions hit you so hard you find it hard to breathe. Every Sunday since Loki passed, you have taken his place beside her although it pains you both greatly.

You walk next to her slowly as she recounts stories from her son's childhood and teen years. You can hear the heartache in her voice as she corrects herself each time she speaks about Loki as if he still here. The stories vary over time, some are funny while others are seemingly random memories with no true focal point.

You listen to each story but you are simply performing for the queen, you smile and laugh at all the right moments but you have lost your ability to feel joy. Your eyes scan the garden while she talks as if Loki might somehow appear on the path ahead. As if he could be hiding behind every tree or tall hedge even though you know you will never see him again. The garden has become one more place on Asgard where Loki haunts you.

As you leave the garden, you both pause next to a tall, full rose bush with flowers that are marbled green and white. She touches the petals gently and takes your hand.

You stand at the top of the stairs and think about the nightmare that awaits you if you return to your room. Your sleep has been stolen by a single reoccurring dream every night for the last month. Smoke and ash cloud your vision, you feel heat burning your skin as the flames surrounding you grow steadily closer. The roar of the fire drowns out your screams for Loki and you always wake up suddenly to the same sound, the cry Loki's mother let out when she found him in your arms.

"Loki would have loved these," you tell her with another practiced smile.

She conjured them in honor of Loki after she spoke to your on the morning of his funeral. She gives you a hug and tells you that your are dismissed for the night. You nod and turn, leaving her to watch the sunset alone.

My beautiful Y/N,

You had decided tonight would be different, you were not returning to your room. You turn down the long dark hallway to your left, to the office where Loki had created a duplicate of his chambers using his magic.

Lighting a single candle, you take off your armor slowly and sit on the worn out couch. The cushions are flat and the legs are uneven but you are not worried about being comfortable, not tonight. All you want is to be somewhere you used to share with Loki. His office and chambers had both been sealed upon his death but even if they were not, you doubt you could bring itself to go in either.

You close your eyes for a moment to stay yourself then take out the note he gave you just before his death. You take a deep breath and open it for the first time.

I miss you more than I can put into words, I cannot wait until I have you in my arms again. I promised you that I would find a way for you to be mine forever and I think I finally have. We will be together soon and I will never let you go. I love you more than anything in the nine realms.

Love always, Loki

You fold the note carefully and hold it to your chest as you lay down. The tears you have kept locked away all day run down your cheeks. Wiping the tears from your eyes, you catch a glimpse of the ring he would be giving you at the Harvest Festival tomorrow if he were still alive.

You close your eyes and imagine Loki down on one knee in front of all of Asgard professing his love for you. You cry with joy and jump into his waiting arms, telling him you love him as you kiss him over and over.

The images fade and you roll over to face the back of the couch. You sniffle, wiping your eyes again and decide you will soon be with Loki forever. Tomorrow, before the festival, you are going to tell the queen you are leaving Asgard. You have made the decision to be sent to the front line of the ever raging war on Jotunheim.

If the Gods are good, you will meet Loki and your family in Valhalla before long.

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