Marvel Oneshots And Crack

⚠️My Immortal

TW FOR SUICIDE ATTEMPT

Vent post. Loki mourning Frigga. I have a theory I may or may not have just come up with where Loki felt his mother die because he had a magical connection to her and he felt it get severed. He thought maybe he was imagining it but when a warrior came and told him the news, that is when he finally processed it. 

Loki POV

When my food is brought in the morning after I am given the awful news, I'm slumped against the wall, my hair an absolute mess, my hands bloody, dishes broken, my feet stained with red. The guard's face looks frightened. Or is he turning into...into a Chitauri? I summon my armor, but it's too late, he's already leaving. 

I'm left alone again, too soon. Too soon, too soon, too soon. I rock back and forth, singing a song Mother would sing to me as a child and even recently when my mind, er...slipped. Really, it wasn't that bad!

....I promise it wasn't! Wait...who am I talking to?

Illusions begin forming of their own volition. I feel the carefully curated control I had over my magic slipping away, away, away, out of my grasp. And with it, any grip I had on reality. 

I stare into the mirror, half if it shattered and mottled with blood and scratches from my, er, rages. A Loki I don't recognize smirks back at me. Ever since I got back from Midgard and my failed attempt to rule Earth, my mind has been, well, cracked for lack of a better word. When before my mind worked seamlessly and smoothly, the different voices and cacophonies I heard hear bouncing off each other effortlessly, building beautiful rapport, tossing jokes back and forth and witty quips, now...now there are strict borders, walls made of steel. Faces flood my mind now, people I have heard but never actually met. 

One scares me most of all, a version of me with a most devious grin and darkness behind his eyes. More and more, I see his darkness reflected in my own irises. The tenor of his voice sneaks into mine, and more and more, I find myself losing time. I wake up in a pile of destroyed possessions, my hands injured, my last meal on the floor. 

I wait and wait, rocking anxiously on the floor, but no one comes. I talk to the voices, and once more, end up in another mess, this time having broken the mirror completely. 

When I'm brought food once more, I'm waiting in the same place, rocking once more. The guard looks at me with so much pity, an idea comes to my head. I do the same stunt I did as a young child, thinking up the most horrific and sad scenarios to force myself to cry on command. But this time, I barely have to force myself to cry. 

The armored man sets the tray of food in my cell, and I stop hiding my anguish. I let out a sob, feeling awfully vulnerable but knowing it is for a cause. The man hesitates, and simply stares at me as I weep. I look up at him with a teary face, purposefully widening my eyes to look more childlike. "Did she suffer?"

He doesn't answer. His throat bobs, and he leaves without another word. I stand up, trying to leave my rapidly shrinking cell. But as has happened many times, I am stopped by an immovable force. I scream, and pain erupts in my scalp. This time, I lose control of my magic and fling myself on the floor, having upended my bed and torn it to pieces. I scream and scream and hit my fists on the hard marble, kicking as hard as I can. 

By the time I've tired myself out, another guard has come for my daily bath. I don't move, refusing to even blink or look in his direction. When a boot stops by my head, I hear a scoff. "Your majesty, you must get off the floor."

I do as I am told, albeit glowering daggers at him the entire time. When I am alone in the bathtub, the guards stationed directly outside, I am holding my favorite scented soap bar and a washcloth. I fill the tub all the way. My clothes are in a pile, but I pay them no mind, letting the fine Asgardian leather sit on the unclean floor. 

⚠️ begin suicide attempt ⚠️

I sink further and further into the tub, until my head is underwater. I breathe out in bubbles, and then the water fills my nostrils. My eyes are squeezed shut as a burning sensation begins in my chest and sinuses. Water is filling my lungs, and Norns, does it fucking burn! But I stay steady, keeping myself underwater. 

Even through the pain, even through the suffocation, I find....peace. My ears are filling up with water, deafening me, but even through my rapidly declining hearing, I hear....sounds. I hear a chorus singing, my mother's voice standing out among all of them, her hand caressing me, pushing hair off my forehead like she did last week when she found me in a panic and unable to remember where I was. 

My vision is blurring, darkening. I smile, laughing in the water. It comes out as bubbles, and it is then the last of the air in my lungs is expelled. I gasp and struggle, and then all at once stop. I let the water flow into me, suffocating me, until with relief, I feel myself losing consciousness. My limbs go weak. 

"My child...it is not your time..."

I let myself fall into her embrace, falling into darkness, into a wormhole, through galaxies and stars and black holes. No...there is warmth...there is a hand on my-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"...your majesty!"

I feel glimmers of magic that are not my own, a very unfamiliar warmth, something soft wrapped around my body, a hand on my chest. I expel water, coughing painfully. My nose is streaming, my eyes burn, my ears are popping. I'm rolled onto my stomach, and more water comes out, splattering on the floor. I recognize the strong arms in gilded armor, and I squirm in Heimdall's arms. "Let me go at once!"

A guard shakes his head, his eyes wide. "Your majesty, you just tried to...to drown yourself!"

I laugh. "No shit!"

They look frightened as I dissolve into raucous laughter, shaking with mirth. It's only when I fail to calm myself from my hysterics that the guard's voice turns harsh. "Loki, this is no time for tricks and pranks! Drowning oneself is serious!"

I grin. "Oh, I'm very serious. Need proof?"

With a swift move of my hand, I've freed myself from their grip, punched the mirror, and held up a shard to my neck. With giggles I can't control, I press the tip into my skin. Heimdall's hand darts out, snatching the glass from me. "Your majesty, you will do no such thing!"

I'm all but thrown back into my cell. I laugh at their pathetic faces, relieved to be left alone. But Heimdall comes back, his golden eyes glinting. "Your majesty, you will be seeing a Healer."

He leaves, just as I'm balling my fists and stomping in rage. Oh, how ridiculous! I yell and throw myself onto the floor  again, but this time it brings no relief. A demented idea comes into my head, and I run straight at the magical barriers of my cage. It shudders and warps, and I am thrown back onto my arse rather harshly. I let loose a horrid scream, tearing itself from my lungs, so loud and breaking that it hurts.