Not with a bang, but a whimper

Somehow it still comes to this: lying on his back in the water, choking on it and the blood in his throat. He can no longer tell if the other battles are continuing, but his is over.

It’s over.

“Heim,” he croaks. “Heimdall.”

There is no answer. Loki rolls his eyes back, but all he can see is a fringe of dark hair, bobbing slowly in the water.

“Are you already dead?” He wants to laugh but he doesn’t have the breath for it. “That’s weak, Heimdall. Really weak.”

Somewhere at a distance, Fenrir howls. Loki closes his eyes for a moment and sees his son fall in an explosion of blood and worse. When he opens them again, it falls from the sky as red rain.

“Ah,” he breathes. It chokes in his throat. “Ah. Ha. Haha.”

It’s the best he can manage, he the trickster, and it burns. Jormungund is already gone, and Thor with him; Odin and Fenrir are eliminated — even Heimdall has gone ahead of him. He’s finally alone, as the White God wished upon him years ago, but more than sorrow, it’ll be the hole in his chest that kills him.

“Unfair,” he mutters. “O Norns.”

Loki closes his eyes again and waits for the last battle to end.

–end–

BONUS: doujinshi-inspired tactics drabble!

+++++

“If I become an oni, I want Haruka to kill me.”

He dreams these words, caught on the wind and snatched away.

They taste like blood. When the stranger turns back, there is a trickle of it, bright red, at the corner of his mouth. He smiles.

“Haruka, I want–”

The Oni-Eater opens his eyes into darkness. The summer night is hot, and his robes stick to him like a second skin. A headache lingers between his eyes.

He’s had these dreams time and again since being unsealed, but if he thinks on them too long, they fade away.

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