#i have avoided going into depth about why the Avengers are still chill with each other because i just wanted to write them being happy

[erinwantstowrite]

Speaking of your new and improved canon: what is the story behind Tony being somewhat chill with Bucky? Is he actually?

started writing LoF when i was being nostalgic for 2012 where the Avengers Tower fics were at its height of writing so in my world there is no divorce arc. I have no idea how to elaborate on that other than Tony having Peter around changed shit up because having a kid changes your world perspective a lot

[gloriousmonsters]

other misc omori: reverie (an omori postgame sequel mod) thots under the cut

good:

I like the environments! the original train/metro station was a little bland but alright, and the 'fallen world' concept of the Otherworld crashing into the ocean is neato

overall I like the skills a lot, I'm not sure why I'm being encouraged to keep capt. spaceboy on the brink of death ('YOUR STATS GO UP AND YOU DEAL MORE DAMAGE WITH 'AVENGER', DUDE' i insist, avoiding his 🥺 eyes) but sunny's music themed skills are fun, sweetheart's Heartbreaker encourages me to hum marina and the diamonds every time i use it, and Knead is good balance and character-wise. Combat's as fun as combat in Omori always was, minus the follow-ups and ult. attack so far at least, which i do sorely miss

just the seratonin of running around w/Capt. Spaceboy and Sweetheart in my party is immeasurable

the tagging pictures are mostly very cute

just in the scale and structure of the mod and the clear work put into it, it's very impressive

not so good:

see above about the eyes, and sort of chain that 'shouldn't sunny be visible injured postcanon' with... there's so far no emotional core where Sunny is concerned. Headspace was such a fraught thing in the original game, characterized just as much by elements of the real world and truth leaking through as it was by fantasy, and although Omori seemed like an unengaged character he actually had enormous stakes and goals; Reverie starts off with Sunny just kinda... chilling in an apartment alone, answering the door and popping into dreamland with no explanation, and he doesn't seem Slightly bothered about it. I don't know why any of this is being played out by Sunny, so I struggle to care about anything that happens

.....it's not helped by the fact the plot is as thin as tissue paper, sldjisdj. Doughie's looking for her brother, o hey we found him, anyway guess she's still sticking around. She, Capt. Spaceboy, and Sweetheart all wind up in the first area by... falling in, randomly, and all of them are motivated by 'find someone/just go home', which isn't particularly exciting. It feels very contrived, and while the plots in Omori also felt contrived, it was at least a little more dynamic and yknow, had a reason for being essentially busywork

characterization. oh boy. the mod's page earnestly says they wanted to be Really Faithful to the game, but I'm left feeling like they maybe haven't played the game recently. Capt. Spaceboy is WAY too fucking chill and politely anxious, like we're talking the guy whose boss emotion is first FURIOUS and then ALL OF THEM. If I'd been designing it I would have given him nothing but second-state emotions and higher lol, and Reverie's Spaceboy (bizarrely, not Capt. Spaceboy, even though the only times he left off that honorific in-game was in his Space BF/ex-BF/husband/ex-husband eras) seems to at most get... anxiously sad about things

he and Sweetheart have also now spent 20 minutes+ in each other's presence without (a) trying to kill each other (b) screaming match (c) declaring their undying love for each other (d) vanishing behind a censor bar like Sims in a bush (e) do you see what i'm saying. they're interacting like generic tsundere/awkward ex vibes instead of the glorious trashfire they were in canon

Sweetheart's characterization is also just... thin. like it's less egregious than Capt. Spaceboy just because she is a more one-note character in your encounters with her, but she has so much potential for depth that so far feels like it's Not There because it's easier to just have her call everyone peasants repeatedly and sometimes act tsundere

overall the actions feel very... fanfiction-not-in-a-good-way. there's not much conflict, everyone is sort of generic in how they speak... and because of the lack of connection, there's no feeling of camaraderie like there was in the original Omori gang. I couldn't even tell you what anyone thinks of Sunny. as opposed to Omori, where the dreamworld, by design, revolved around Omori--and, behind him, Sunny--people straight up don't seem to notice Sunny at all beyond a vague presence at the front of the character chain. I don't know if Capt. Spaceboy or Sweetheart recognize him as connected to Omori, or who they think he is or what he wants

overall:

i'm really hoping it gets Deeper and maybe feels less inconsequential as time goes on but my hopes aren't too high. still bothered about the eye thing also. sunny is a whole thing by himself but like capt spaceboy is A Pirate. It's An Essential Part Of His Design

okay i took WAY too long to realize what one of the things that was bothering me about omori:reverie but. why the Fuck do both sunny and capt. spaceboy have two eyes

[barnesnmrnoble]

The Fallen Leaf

(GIF not mine. Credit to owners.)

Main Masterlist - Steve Rogers Masterlist

There is a tree in New York, standing y’all in the depths of the greenery of Central Park. It’s a tree that represents the life and death of the city. With each new life brought into the world, a new leaf blossoms from a it’s branches but with each death that befalls the city a leaf floats and falls to the ground signifying its end.

Every Saturday, Steve watches her smile grow somber, her eyes become glassy with tears unshed and watches as her feet carry her away to the city. He never knows where she goes and never dares ask in fear of watching her already dampened smile fade to nothing. Until one day he can’t handle it any longer and follows her.

Word Count: 3168

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death and blood, car accident

A/n:  It’s been a minute since I’ve been able to post, school and finals have been kicking my ass so hopefully this is the start of me coming back. There should also be a new chapter of Lost in Time in the coming days! I hope you all enjoy! If you do, leave a like and a reblog or comment! I’d love to hear what you think and honestly I’m human and I need the validation. (This was based of a @writing-prompt-s post )

Read on AO3!

There is a tree, standing tall in the depths of the thick greenery of Central Park. It’s larger than life, standing high above the rest of the forest that surrounds it, from the ground looking up, it almost competes with the skyscrapers that line the blue sky. Though it’s not blue today, it’s never blue when she leaves her home for this. It’s dark and dreary, grey clouds rolling in over the city. It’s a reflection of how she feels on these days.

She remembers when she first learned of the tree, her mother sitting her down on a bench nearby it, overlooking the lake in front of her. Her mother held her newborn baby in her arms, gently calming him when he stirred in his sleep. He was only days old, but already had the biggest personality, just like her own. The wind blew around them, almost drowning out her voice when she quietly asked her mother to hold her new baby brother. Her mother had smiled at her, handing her the small infant, keeping her hands underneath her daughter’s. Her mother leaned down to push a wind blown stray hair away from her eyes, smiling as she retold the story her own parents had taught her at this age. She recited it as if it was a fairy tale straight from a story book she had on the bookshelf at home.

It had been centuries ago, when the city had started to come to life. Statues and monuments locals saw each day as they walked into their jobs, had been created then. Stories that would be known until the end of time, started here. A man, whose name she couldn’t remember no matter how many times she’d  told and been told the story --which admittedly wasn’t very often-- had come to the green space in the city. He found solace in the quietness of the forest, found peace from the world. He’d found a place to rest, a clearing in the trees, and in the middle sat a small sapling, no taller than his hip. It’s color was more potent than what he’d seen, greens of every shade covered the few leaves it had. The man pulled a small brown cloth pouch from his clothing, dipping his fingers into the soft mineral powder inside. The powder gleamed against the sun’s bright rays of light, as the man brought it from the pouch and sprinkled it around the tree.

Her mother continues to stroke her hair and finishes her telling of the story with a flourish, “And the rest, as they say, is history.” She smiles up to her mother, fascination running around her brain like a herd of wild horses. But, she can’t help but pause for a moment, her mother had told her an amazing fairy tale of the tree that grew taller than the rest in the middle of the city, but never once did she mention its significance. When she asked to know more about the tree, to know why leaves of varying shades and colors grew from its branches her mother only grabbed her small hand in hers and lead her to the edge of the clearing. “You’ll understand soon, but you must see it.”

It had truly been magical, that day, hearing the stories told from generation to generation had set her mind aflurry, her imagination running wild. Her mother had taken her to see the tree up close, leaves of every color and shade scattered across branches that never seemed to end. If she’d been counting the branches, she was sure to end in the thousands before giving up.  Some leaves had fallen from their branches, dispersed on the ground beneath it, stretching out several feet from its base and covering large roots that measured larger than herself. Her small feet carried her to the edge of where the leaves lay peacefully on the ground, she didn’t dare go further, wouldn’t have even if she hadn’t had her mother still holding her hand. It felt wrong, a deep seeding feeling of disrespect if she crossed the imaginary line in front of her.

____________ . _______________ . ____________ . ___________

She wrapped her scarf around her neck, the soft navy blue one Steve had gifted her a while back, and stroked her fingers over the fabric savoring the comfort it brought her.  It was silly, really. To think a scarf of soft fabric could bring her so much comfort on a day that was so hard, but it was what it represented to her that brought her the feeling of a warm embrace, when the cold around her chilled her to her bones. It was the representation of family, of a shoulder to lean on, open arms to fall into when the world pushed too hard, it was the representation of all that she had lost and then gained once again. She never knew a scarf could represent so much to her.

The clouds that rolled in over the sky were dark and dreary, a nipping wind biting at those who dared walk out in the world. The wind slammed against her cheeks the moment she opened the door and slid into the hustle and bustle of the city. It felt like small pricks against her skin, the ever changing pattern of the wind switching the pins from on side of her face to the other every few steps she took. She blended into the crowd around her, just another face, another set of feet moving from point a to point b, at least until she slid from the bulk of the crowd taking a side street into the park. She walked along the path she always took, a back way to avoid the people she just didn’t have the energy to be around and to bask in the nature around her.

The trees were still bare, a few leaves poking through the cold to find the sun. The winter had started to subside and make way for the spring, letting leaves grow in bunches, grass regain its beautiful green hue, and flower bloom underneath her feet. She loved it here. Her mind wandered with her feet, carrying her to the place she always found herself on these days, the tree of the city.

No matter the time of year, winter, spring, summer, or fall, the leaves of the tree always grew against their branches. It was never failing in its beauty or its life. Before she even had realized she’d taken the backpath, her feet slowed to a stop against the outermost edge of the leaves, the imaginary line forced a stop to her feet. She reached into her coat and pulled out the small picture frame she usually kept hidden away from prying eyes. The dark and worn frame, whose paint had been chipped and rubbed away by her loss and anxiously twiddling thumbs, slid to the end of her grasp and escaped the downpour of her tears. Her delicate fingers traced over the outline of the purple colored leaf and over the letters engraved forever on its skin.

Her brother’s name stared at her through the glass frame under her thumbs, twisting the grip on her heart, one that refused to let up, and hadn’t for two years. It had been a dreary Saturday morning, much like today or really everyday she walked the lone path to the tree. She’d still been living at her old apartment down in Brooklyn, her life as an avenger hadn’t started yet, she was still months out from that part of her life. Her brother had come home from University for the weekend and managed to squeeze in just enough time to have lunch with her before he had to get back, it’d been the first time she’d seen him in months.

But he never showed up.

It was a call she never wished to get, a feeling she would never wish on the worst of people. It had quite literally felt like her heart had been torn from her chest and buried six feet under for no hope of ever finding it again. “Your brother’s been in an accident.” She could hear the helplessness and fear that laced her mother’s voice, she could hear her own sobs permeating the soft air of the diner she’d been waiting for him at. She didn’t care for the odd looks she received for her wailing sobs, or the angry stares she got for “ruining” someone’s dinner. She didn’t care.

Her brothers car was a mangled mess when she passed the awful wreck. She wished she could’ve avoided it, put off seeing horrors no one should ever face, but it was the only way to the hospital. Her stomach churned and threaten to let the bile she’d been struggling to hold down up as she passed the car. She could see blood streaking the inside of the car, a gaping hole where they’d had to cut him from the vehicle.

They waited for hours in the hospital, sitting in awful and uncomfortable chairs that made it impossible it find a position to sit in that didn’t make her back ache. Her hand never left her mother’s, both holding onto each other as if it was the only thing holding them together. Though in reality, it was the only thing holding them together.

The world became darker with each passing moment of agonizing waiting, wondering, hoping, and praying. It became a macabre world of black and white, a world of muted feelings to the point of total numbness. The blank wall in front of her eyes became a seemingly interesting story being told, her eyes never wavering from the spot they’d fixated on hours upon hours ago. Distantly she heard talking, people milling about in the hospital, each one feeling much different from the last. Nurses and doctors held somber looks, though some held smiles as they came out a child’s room, or a room from which someone was still living, still breathing, where they were recovering.

One somber face stood out from the rest. It overrode every feeling of numbness in her until she felt everything all at once, letting it quite literally knock her out of her chair. His eyes were tearful, his gait slow and heartbroken. His shoes were covered in blood, his scrubs he wore didn’t look much better, streaks of red striping what once was a sky blue top into a painful red nightmare. She didn’t need to be told, she didn’t, nor did she want to hear the words spoken out into the world, because if they were that would prove their truthfulness and that wasn’t a truth she was or ever would be willing to come to terms with.

Her baby brother was gone.

The pain settled deep within her heart, never once letting her forget that day, or the feelings of guilt and sadness that she felt everyday when she opened her eyes in the morning. She’d thrown herself into work, isolated herself from friends and family, barely ate and when she did it was nothing more than a birds meal. She even begun a new job, on top of her regular job. She had to, sitting at home and wallowing in the pain was doing nothing for her so she did what she knew and kept herself distracted. Eventually leading her into the arms of the avengers, where her anger and guilt could be used as the driving motion to do some good in the world, just what her brother would’ve wanted for her.

It had taken her several months before she could even bring herself to face the tree that had once held her brothers leaf high on the branches that reached upwards until they touched the blue of the sky. Little by little she brought up her courage and pushed away the pain until the one day she stepped past the imaginary line her feet always stopped her at. She’d sifted through so many leaves, sat for hours and hours until she found the jagged edges of the purple leaf, his favorite color, that held his name. And so, every Saturday she slid out of compound at the early hours of the morning to commemorate him and his life. She went early enough to beat the crowds that lingered around the tree, mostly of those who tried to find their own leaves, they were too cheerful for her. And early enough to avoid or arouse suspicion from that of her teammates. But in a building full of trained soldiers, assassins and geniuses, one was bound to see her slip from the gates with fresh tears already making their way down her cheeks.

Steve had seen her a few months ago, slip from her room and quietly out of the compound, he’d made to ask her where she was headed but as soon as he saw her somber smile and glassy eyes, he just opened his arms for her to seek comfort in. And she did, she never told him anything more than a cop-out answer of “it’s a long story.” or “I’m okay, just a hard week.” but he was never one to push it, it wasn’t his place and he wouldn’t be able to handle it if he was the reason her smiled dampened even more than it already was.

It had been months of her tearful gaze and isolation and Steve couldn’t handle the continuing struggle he could see for her to keep her smile from fading until there was nothing and he snapped. She always left, every Saturday in the early mornings, so Steve was awake just before he knew she’d slide from her room and away for the day and followed her.

He followed her down the backpath she took through the deepest parts of the park, her feet slow moving across the dirt packed path. He listened with a heart heavier than lead as she cried with each step she took, she radiated the pain she felt outwards pushing an invisible force down onto Steve that made each step harder than the last as they rounded the last corner to the open clearing that perfectly framed the tree. He’d seen the tree before, mourned over the leafs on the ground etched with names of his past life, but it had taken him time to even make it as far as the clearing. His fear of seeing those names and coming to terms with the lives and deaths of the people he loved most winning out over his need to have the closure.

He remembered seeing the tree back in the 40s, he’d drawn it countless times in his sketchbook. Though never once did he think his drawings did it’s unmatched beauty any sort of justice. To him, he would never be able to capture the emotions, the happy, the sad, the rejoicing, and the mourning done at the base of this tree, no color palette could ever capture the unique colors that scattered the mass amounts of branches that would’ve taken years to finish drawing. Still he tried, spending many a days out sketching in the warmth of the sun and the coolness he felt when it started to fall beneath the horizon. When his mother had passed, Steve had spent less time in the clearing, pushing it away because it held the memories of his mother, the one woman in his life that meant more to him than anything, because nothing else could compare to her sweet, compassionate personality.

Her feet paused at the outermost edge of the clearing, never crossing the line from the dirt path to the soft green grass the spread from the base of the tree. He watched her grab something from the inside of her coat, her weight shifting from foot to foot and her shoulders slumping even more than they already had. Steve couldn’t handle it, he loved seeing her infectious smile and had since she’d started with the avengers. She’d been a breath of fresh air, she was amazingly capable at what she did-- he couldn’t even counted on his fingers how many times she’d saved his ass-- but even more than that she had helped everyone come down from their minds. Without her, the avengers would probably never have eaten or learned how to cook for themselves, they wouldn’t have days where they could just be people and play games and be the family they really were.

“You know, I came here after I lost Bucky. I stood right where you are, to afraid to cross into the clearing, because if I did and I found the leaf with his name on it, it would mean he was really gone, confirming just what I’d seen on the train. I never moved past that line.” His voice came from behind her, sending her jumping away from where she stood. His hand reached out and grabbed her hand, he laced their fingers together and pulled her into his arms. He didn’t need words, he needed her to know no matter what was going on, she had someone to come to. It was a small gesture but it was just what she needed.

His heart broke with her sobs, his arms gripping onto her waist and holding her steady and she collapsed in his arms and took them both to the ground. They sat in the dirt for hours, some just watching those who showed up to admire the tree, to those who mourned along with them, some just relishing in the comfort of having each other. She told stories of her brother, of the silly games they played, of the crazy pranks they pulled on each other, of the day and the accident that took his life. Each story yanked on Steve’s heart strings until they were stretched farther than a rubber band, he was so close to breaking and letting his tears spill over, to letting his resolve snap into pieces like a rubber band stretched to far.

Part of him did snap, he let silent tears fall, trying and failing to quell his shudders of the sobs he quieted. Her heart so hurt, so closed off from a tragedy he’d never wish on the worst of his enemies. To lose someone so close to you, to not even be able to say goodbye, to see them happy and alive one last time, Steve couldn’t imagine it. She was strong, stronger than anyone knew because despite the horrors she’d lived through, the tragedy she faced, she carried on, pushed past the pain to do her job and do to it well. But more than that she never forgot to take the time to mourn her loss, to remember the life of her brother and to remember what brought her to where she was.

He bent his head down pressing a delicate kiss to her forehead and once again hugging her tight to his body.

“Let’s go home.”

[minnie-marvel]

Night Terrors (Loki x Reader) Part 6

All your life you have lived with the strange ability to walk and manipulate the dreams of others. Your power helped you receive a job as a personal dream therapist for Tony Stark who eventually offered you the same position for the rest of his team at the Avenger’s tower. When you enter into Thor’s dream to pacify his nightmare he is impressed with your abilities and gives you a challenge: to help remedy his brother’s nightmares which are apparently a thousand times worse.

Loki x Reader

Words: 3,583

Warnings: violence, death

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

A/N: oh man, this really hurt to write. I’m sorry y’all.

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They laid Thor down in his own bed gently, as you had advised it would be better for Thor to wake up in a place that was familiar to him. Everyone crowded around his sleeping body silently as you took a step forward. 

“How long will it take?” Loki demanded his voice sounded angry and frustrated, but there was a hint of fear laced over his words. You weren’t offended at his tone, you knew if the roles were reversed you would have his exact reaction.

“Hopefully not long…” You started as you took a seat on Thor’s bed at his side like you had hundreds of times before when you were together just having fun. Your heart only kept sinking. The spot that had been so familiar to you before now felt cold, lifeless and strange.  “It depends on what I find in his dreamscape…. People can only be trapped there if they’re scared, or if they're made to believe that the dream their experiencing is an actual reality.” You explained. “Either way… it's not an easy feat. If I can’t get Thor out of it, I may be trapped in his world myself… I don’t know how powerful this other dream person is…” You whispered mostly to yourself. 

“I know you can do it Dream eater,” Tony said placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“You’ve worked miracles before and you can work miracles now. Even if this takes you hours, days, weeks,  we’ll be here when you wake up with Thor to congratulate you,” He gave you soft smile that boosted your determination. Everyone was counting on you, Thor was counting on you. You gave a simple nod before exhaling. 

“I’m ready.”

“Y/N…” Loki spoke before you could blink a second time. You looked over at him and saw him biting at the back of his thumb before he dragged his eyes from Thor’s body to your eyes. “Please, be safe.” He begged softly.

You couldn’t promise him anything, you weren’t going to lie to him again. You looked forward so that you could focus yourself and blinked three times, entering into the Doorway.

Everything felt urgent, it almost confused you. You had to take a moment to collect yourself before you went rushing into the wrong door. If you walked into the dreamscape of someone who was awake, they’d fall asleep instantly, and you knew that the Avengers didn’t need another comatose person on their hands.  You felt yourself shiver slightly. That was strange, you hadn’t even started walking yet, why was Loki’s chill here as soon as you entered the Doorway?

You looked around the main hall to see his frostbitten door right between your father and mothers. 

You touched your head and tried to shake away your incoming thoughts about him. You couldn’t focus on him right now, you had to get to Thor and wake him up. Who knew how much time you had already wasted by sitting around gawking? You touched your shoulders letting a jacket materialize on you before continuing on to find Thor’s door. Your steps were nimble as your head bounced from side to side looking at each door till you finally found his. You frowned, why did his door seem so dim in comparison to the other times you had seen it?

You reached for the double handles getting ready to pull it open but at your touch, you were immediately thrown back against another door by a powerful shock. You screamed in pain as you looked down at your hand and saw it was disgustingly disfigured, your hand bubbling and boiling with a raw meaty appearance. How did Thor’s door manage to do that to you?! Were his dreams so frightening that he refused to let anyone in? Your head started racing with questions all while you held your hand grimacing in your pain when you suddenly stopped.

You weren’t supposed to feel pain in your dreams.

It was a dream, after all, everything that happened in them was always made up of illusions, things weren’t actually supposed to hurt you unless you were convinced they were real. You took another glance at your hand after your epitome and saw your hand shift back to normal as if you had never been shocked. Your eyebrows knit together. Whoever this guy was, he was certainly powerful to have you question yourself when you hadn’t even entered a dream yet. You took a deep breath. Hold yourself together Y/N, you weren’t going to get Thor out if you kept getting tricked like this.

You went to his doors again and this time when you laid your hands on his handles you only felt slight vibrations as to oppose to the previous burning unbearable shock. You pulled his door open to see Asgard again in shambles.  You took a deep breath. As terrible as this was, this was a familiar sight for you. You would be able to find Thor easily and be able to remedy him.

You walked across the crackling glass road trying not to focus as it was nearly crumbling on you. If you gave into your fears of what was happening in this dream, you would be swallowed up by it yourself. You kept your eyes forward as you entered the city of Asgard, people ran past of you screaming in terror shoving you each and every way.  When a soldier shoved you down you tried not to look at him until he spoke to you.

“The princes! They’re falling by that she-demons hand!!!” He cowered. You both got up quickly and you searched his eyes. “Where are they fighting.” You demanded your voice unnaturally cool and deadpan. 

The soldier pointed back towards the palace their entire body quivering. “T-The throne room!! No one can stop them!!” He said running past you now. “Save yourself!!” He cried. You took a deep breath before continuing your walk into the chaos. 

You walked into the palace, bodies were scattered across the ground like confetti, it made your stomach knot up. You lifted your gaze to the center of the throne room where both Thor and Loki stood fighting against who you assumed to be Hela. Thor didn’t mention her often since her existence came shortly after his father’s death, he had only told you that she was frighteningly powerful and that he was lucky she had perished alongside his home. 

You were taken aback at her presence; she actually seemed graceful when she fought. Her movements were seemingly effortless, like a dancer as she twirled her body to and fro avoiding Thor and Loki’s punches and stabs.

You quickly crouched behind a pillar. You were really starting to hate being in this Throne room. You peeked from behind the pillar as Thor fought against his sister. You stretched your hands out towards her to begin to puppet her.  Just as you were about to force her movements her piercing green eyes darted to yours making your heart stop.

“It looks like we have a little guest!” She chirped throwing both Loki and Thor to the side as she made an advance towards you.  You started to back away slowly. Puppeting her was no use now that your mission had been compromised. 

“Y/N…?!” Thor grunted as he got up from where he stood. Your eyes darted to him. You couldn’t let yourself get wounded up in this dream. Stay calm. Stay calm.

“So you know this trespasser?” She asked standing in front of you now. “How delightful!” She grinned before swiftly grabbing you and twisting you around with two knives aimed at your throat. You felt sweat begin to bead at the top of your forehead.

“Lay not one fingertip on her you WENCH!” he shouted electricity beginning to dance across his arms. Loki stood too eyeing you and his sister. 

“Oh? my my, what courage to try and command your older sister…” She laughed softly. “Do you know not who I am Thor?” you felt the edges of the knives begin to pinch into the skin of your neck.

“Hela…..”

You made a quick swipe and you suddenly felt blood gurgling from the depths of your throat, your body falling limply to the floor as blood pooled out of your mouth and onto the floor.

“I am the goddess of death.” She finished stepping on your body as she walked to confront her brothers again.

“HELA!!!” Thor bellowed lightning exploding from his hands as he charged forward punching his sister in the face with practically a trillion volts of lightning. You felt your heart beat out of your chest rapidly started hyperventilating the blood spattering across the floor and over your clothes as you let out a pathetic whimper, tears running down your cheeks. Were you dying?

You saw Loki begin to rush at Thor and Hela when you instinctively reached out and whimpered his name, your voice sounding weak, unnatural and full of your blood. 

Little did you know, it was nearly midnight in the compound, and some of the Avengers were still waiting at your side. Many had left due to research what they could on the villain who had done this to Thor in the first place, but Natasha, Bruce, Tony, and Loki were still sitting at your side silently. Bruce had a tablet out researching possible methods to force the two of you to wake up if you happened to fall into a coma. Tony sat hands folded promptly above his face. He knew that you would be able to complete the mission, he just didn’t know when. With each passing hour, he grew more anxious. He wasn’t prepared to lose two friends in one day. Natasha sat comfortably while still having a watchful eye on you. She had never experienced your line of work but she would admit that after today’s fight, she was extremely curious as to how much you could actually do with your powers. And then there was Loki.

Internally, he was a mess but externally he kept cool and collected sitting properly as one leg bounced up and down. He watched your chest rise and fall constantly. He feared that if he let his eyes stray from you and Thor for even a moment, he would have lost you both. 

That’s when the room heard you mutter his name.

It was honestly frightening, you sat perfectly still with your eyes wide opened as you slept when you suddenly whispered. Each spectator slowly looked at him unsure what to think or what to do.

“W-what? I…she…” Loki stammered at a loss for words suddenly noticing the attention that was on him. His eyes landed back on you, your eyebrows were suddenly clenching together as you whispered his name again, despair creaking out of your voice.

“What’s happening to her?!” Loki demanded, getting up from his seat getting ready to lift you out of the bed with his own hands.

“Watch it Reindeer games,” Tony said extremely defensive. He pushed him back with his hand blocking his path from you. Loki’s nose scrunched in anger and disgust.

“Unhand me Stark lest I make you,” He snarled shoving him slightly.  “Can’t you hear her?! She’s calling for me if you expect me to stand idle while I twiddle my thumbs watching her in pain-”

“Hey man, what’s your problem!” Bruce raised his voice taking a stand too making the whole room ten times more delicate. 

“We don’t know what will happen if we try to interfere with her,” Tony said continuing to place a hand on his chest to keep him from you.  “For all we know, touching her could send her comatose. We just have to be patient.”

“She needs me.” He said. His voice sounded frailer than it had before. Natasha finally stood eyeing the trickster god as he still kept his eyes locked on you.

“We’re all concerned right now Loki,” she said folding her arms. “But we’re not going to compromise her mission just because she talked in her sleep.” 

Loki looked at them all absolutely disgusted. He threw Tony’s arm off his chest. “And you people think I’m the one with the frozen heart.” He hissed.

“Loki, you can either stay here silent, or you can walk out there and not have to see anything,” Bruce warned.  “We know that you want Thor to stay safe but Y/N, is trying everything that she can, we just have to let her work,” Bruce said.

 “So let’s all just take a deep breath and settle down before things get ugly okay?”  Slowly everyone sat back in their chairs listening to Bruce’s voice of reason. Loki folded his hands over his mouth while he watched you again silent. He could only pray that if you were calling to him in Thor’s dream, that he would be able to rescue you in a heartbeat just as he would have now.

You gurgled out Loki’s name a third time laying still on the floor of the palace in a pool of your own blood. The call was louder now and Loki’s eyes finally locked to yours seemingly remembering what Hela had done to you. He rushed to your side uncaring of the blood that he was now kneeling in. He picked your head up searching your eyes. 

“You’re an idiot!” He hissed causing you to wince. “Did you honestly think you could take her on? She is the goddess of death and you’re nothing but a simple Midguardian! You never had a chance…” He muttered looking back at Thor who was still fighting against Hela. You couldn’t tell if this was Loki being overprotective or if this was him insulting your courage. Either way, you expected a little bit more seeing as you were dying in his arms. You thought he would hold you close, kiss you or even shed a tear but he just knelt there thinking of you as more of a burden than anything else.

You were honestly surprised; you thought it would be instant and that the pain would be over. Instead, you were sitting there your body bleeding out but you seemingly keeping on. You blinked suddenly sensing something was off. Now you weren’t very knowledgeable about fighting like the rest of the Avengers but you were fairly certain that you should have been dead by now.  You cursed yourself as the gash on your neck healed in seconds, the pain drifting away now a far-off memory. 

You had gotten caught up again just as you feared. 

Loki stared at you in disbelief as you sat up straight wiping the blood from your neck and flicking it iff your hand. “Don’t worry about it.” You said quickly as you stood slowly watching Thor and Hela fight again. 

“Thor!” You called for him taking a stand against Hela behind him again. She didn’t even bat an eyelash.

“Huh. I’m fairly certain I killed you minutes ago,” Hela said simply. “What are you, Asgardian? Undead? A goddess?” she asked as she held Thor by his neck choking him slowly.

“Neither.” You said looking at Thor now directly. “I’m a dream eater.” You finished his gaze suddenly widening at you. “Thor you’re asleep! You have to wake up before you’re stuck in this dream forever!” You explained. “None of this is real!! You have to change this dream to what you want it to be and wake up again!” You said.

“A dream…” Thor choked out. He let out a laugh. “I should have known….” He locked his eyes on Hela who seemed to be looking back at him in fear.  “It’s over for you sister…” He suddenly roared so loudly that the entire throne room began to quake.  His body suddenly started to glow blue as lightning charged about him when the room started to brighten. You had to shield your eyes as the light only grew suddenly exploding in a flash that you thought was as bright as a supernova.

Your eyes blinked and suddenly you were back in Thor’s room where he slowly woke groaning miserably. You made a sudden quick and desperate sigh of relief. “We made it…” you whispered pulling a hand through your hair.

The rest of the room softly began to stir, all but one of them had fallen asleep. Loki let a relaxed breath escape his lips as he watched you and Thor stretch simultaneously getting out of the bed. Tony rubbed his eyes. “Knew you could do it dream eater…” He yawned.

“What time is it?” You asked quickly. You prayed that a week hadn’t passed.

“Its three thirty-seven AM,” Loki answered approaching you. He took your hand in his and looked at you silently his heart beating rapidly. “Y/N…are you alright?” He asked softly. “I’m fine,” you nodded as his body seemed to relax at your words. 

“Whoaaaa….. what the fuck.”  Tony drawled still half asleep watching you two. 

“Brother…? Y/N?” Thor asked a light bulb seemingly going off on top of his head. “By Odin’s beard…”

Natasha only rolled her eyes, having known from the moment Loki reacted to you calling his name. “Why don’t we all get to bed, it’s been a long night.” She said ushering all but Thor out of his room. 

“Oh hell yes, I forgot that Y/N gave me the star treatment before all this dream mess happened.”  He said excitedly rushing to the elevator.

“Goodnight everyone,” Nat said before her eyes fell on you. “Good job tonight Y/N. Don’t know what we would have done if we didn’t have you.” She gave you a nod before disappearing with Bruce into the halls.

You and Loki stood together quietly, his eyes glued to the floor. “Why don’t we talk,” You offered to reach for his hand. You locked your fingers with his and he looked at you softly. “I…would like that.” He said as you lead him into your room. You sat on your bed with him still silent, he was obviously still shocked after today’s events. 

“I know you probably have a lot of questions…” You said nuzzling close to his body. You leaned your head into the crook of his neck. You felt him lean his chin atop of your head. 

“What happened?” Was all he could say. “You called for me in the middle of the night… you looked like you were in pain,” He whispered. You felt your face flush.

“Y-you heard that?” You asked wanting to hide under your covers. “My sweet Y/N, everyone heard it,” he said giving a soft chuckle. “Were you alright?”

Your lips pursed together tightly. “I don’t think you’d want to know,” You murmured.

“Try me.”

You took a deep breath. “You and Thor were fighting against Hela,” you explained. “She caught me trying to manipulate the dream so she took me and she….” You touched your neck gently still feeling where she had sliced.

“...She killed me.”

You felt his grip on you tighten and his entire body seemed to clench. “Is that when you called for me?” he asked turning his gaze to you now. You nodded silently. You felt him take you by the chin with his free hand and kissed you gently. You felt his hurt seemingly leak into you and you felt tears drip down your cheeks.

He pulled back immediately drying your tears. “Y/N… I vow on my very life that I will never let anyone touch you unless you desire it,” He promised laying a kiss on top of your forehead. You only buried your face in his chest unable to stop. You couldn’t continue with him, with anything. Seeing how Loki cared for you and longed for you only made your heart throb in pain. The secrets that you kept from him were tying your heart up tightly every time you spoke without telling him the truth.

“I…I can’t…” You whispered pulling your head up from his neck. “L-Loki I…”

“Y/N,” he interrupted trailing a finger down your cheek. “I love you,” He whispered.

You started gasping for air the ropes tied around your heart were suffocating you now. You had reached your tipping point. You couldn’t breathe if you had to keep it any longer.

“Loki please listen to me,” You managed to squeak out.

“I know you want to preserve your friendship with Thor, but I promise not to interfere with you,” he said taking both your hands now. “Y/N, you are the only one who’s made me feel accepted…. You care for me in ways that my own father didn’t,”

You wheezed tears streaming down your cheeks, yet he still continued. 

“Before I met you... before I truly met you,” he whispered. “I was riddled by night terrors for years. Of what I had done to Thor, to my mother, to my entire family…” He explained. His eyes searched yours now and you felt like dying every time he smiled as he spoke. “But once I met you… they all stopped, I started to…care again, not only for you but for myself.” He took your chin again between his fingers. “Y/N, I love you...” he said softly before his hand began to bring your lips closer to his. “Please... tell me you love me in return...”

“Loki I walked in your dreams!”  You whispered quickly, desperately, unable to bear another kiss from him when your mouth was filled with lies.

You felt everything stop, as the truth finally graced your lips.

Part 7

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[bingothekangaroo]

“I thank you God for most this amazing day” -E.E Cummings

Blog #5 

April 16, 2021

      In American History Class, they continued the WWII topic. They finished their different war theories (Pacifism, Just War Theory, Preemptive)  by assigning parts of the room to a theory. One side represented pacifism and across the room was preemptive. Just war theory was the middle of the room. Students were asked to stand in the room where their own beliefs were. Some students leaned completely on one side while others lingered in between different ones. They each explained why they chose the spot they did and shared their ideas with each other and answered the teacher’s questions. The next day they watched a clip of the film Captain American: First Avenger. In one of the scenes, Steve Rogers tours the US performing to convince people to buy bonds. One actor tells Steve that he is on the biggest battlefield of the war by doing this. The teacher then explains the importance bonds had in the war and what Americans did here in the US to help with the war. The class then read some sources about the four freedoms. The Junior American literature class continued to read through Huckleberry Finn and had a vocabulary test. For the poetry part of their class, they read through some of E.E Cummings’ poems and then wrote their own poems like him. The teacher encouraged them to be “creative, have fun and even go crazy with it”. My favorite of the poems was one written completely backwards. 

      (Miscellaneous) “What added school responsibilities does the teacher do other than teach? Are these responsibilities mandatory or did they volunteer? Do they receive extra compensation for them?” Both of my supervising teachers have responsibilities outside of their classroom they are expected to do each week. This often looks like supervising passing periods and coming to school early once a week to monitor the hallways. Once a week students are expected to attend a church service in the chapel room, teachers and staff are expected to be present for these. There is also a weekly Bible study completely run by the students, but the teachers are still expected to sit outside their classrooms to monitor them. These responsibilities are expected to be performed as part of the job, so teachers do not get compensated for them. The Social Studies teacher also coaches high school cross country and junior high track. He volunteered for these responsibilities and does get compensated for his time and travel expenses. 

      The reflection question that I have chosen to answer is from chapter 8 page 257. “Do you believe that controversies about religion in the schools will have a chilling effect on your own willingness as a teacher to have students read religious literature or study the contributions of religions?” I think it will be difficult to talk about religion to a certain degree. Since there are so many rules that prevent students and teachers from going to certain depths of religion, it will be hard for me to balance the rules while still providing enough information for students. As a Social Studies teacher, it would be near impossible for me to avoid religious discussions since it plays huge parts in some events in history and other cultures. Personally growing up in a private religious school, I am used to talking about all sorts of religions and what they believe. I feel that it is important for students to be exposed to other’s beliefs. Our job as educators is to provide knowledge to our children, not hide it from them because we fear it or disagree with it.