love me till I'm me again - loki odinson

hurt me and call it love

Trigger warning's applied. This one got pretty intense so be warned (since it's been so long since I last updated, I thought I'd make it up to you guys)

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Grandmaster wouldn't let Loki see Thor. And because Thor, being extremely stupid, insisted he would always come back as long as Loki was here, the Grandmaster did him a favor by keeping both brothers here on Sakaar.

It was only because of the deal Loki made with the Grandmaster, no harm shall come to Thor as long as Loki agreed to stay, that kept Thor away from the arena.

Even though Loki wasn't allowed to see his brother, he knew Thor was safe in his own quarter, as the Grandmaster promised. He may be a lunatic, a sadist with twisted taste in humor, but Loki knew he was a man of his word. If the Grandmaster said Thor was safe, he was safe. At least that meant something.

"You - are you still with me, Lo?"

Loki snapped himself out of it. He dared open his eyes to find the Grandmaster's face looming over his. His vision was foggy, and he was gradually grateful for whatever sedation the Grandmaster had drugged him with, it made him numb enough that he didn't feel the pain.
(Because Loki was sure he wouldn't want to feel as the Grandmaster cut his chest open, drew a long, red line down his sternum to his abdomen, and basically peeled him open on the table; displaying all his innards)

They were role playing, the Grandmaster as a surgeon and Loki, obviously, as a patient.

"What cha thinkin?" Grandmaster lowered his procedure mask, giving him a wicked smile and a raised eyebrow.

But Loki couldn't really speak, physically. His mouth was occupied by a tube, hooked to a machine Loki didn't know its name, running down his throat - said tube kept him alive, helping him breathe by delivering oxygen into his lungs (one of them was currently in the Grandmaster's gloved hand - literally) because Loki was positive he wasn't able to breathe on his own at this point. And the Grandmaster wanted him alive since it was more fun to play a doctor and live patient than a doctor performing an autopsy on a corpse. That made sense.

Loki made whatever sound he could mutter from his throat to remind the Grandmaster of his condition in which he earned himself a chuckle from the other being. "Whoops," Grandmaster shrugged playfully, "how could I forget?"

His bloodied hand left Loki's lung (Loki was momentarily thankful for that) and grabbed the tube, giving it a slight tug in which Loki could feel it shift inside his body where its end located (somehow, despite the drug, Loki could still feel that. He wondered if it had something to do with the Grandmaster's magic, what he could and could not feel - his body wouldn't be able to take the pain of this so called surgery itself, but a little feeling from time to time to keep Loki alert and aware would definitely be the Grandmaster's cup of tea - for instance; he also felt dizzy and lightheaded in which he figured was from blood loss. There was no need to see, Loki could already tell more than a quarter of his blood was on the floor, gathered into a pool around the table)

"Do we want this off, kitten? You know, so you can talk?"

So I can suffocate or choke on my blood and die! Loki may be broken, but he wasn't stupid. He knew every move the Grandmaster made, every word he said, was a mind game he liked to play, to mess with Loki's head, breaking him into smaller and smaller pieces until he was too far gone, not even a soul left to be saved. Loki shook his head from side to side the best he could. Blinking tears it rolled down his skin.

"Alright sweetie," Grandmaster eventually left the tube alone. His hand moved to cup Loki's cheek, leaving blood trial (Loki's blood) in the shape of fingers on his face. "It's your call to make, right? Anyway, where were we again. Oh, right?"

Grandmaster retracted his hand and got back to whatever he was doing inside Loki's body. Loki wanted to howl, to pull at the restraint, tear the Grandmaster's throat apart and be damned the consequences. He could only lie there naked and limply and exposed.

Grandmaster's hands touching him all over. Inside him. Cutting then and there, and Loki couldn't see. No way for him to know what was being done to him, if the creature who owned his life would damage any vital organ and leave him to bleed out to death. Loki tried to lift his head up, he didn't get higher than an inch from the table before his head fell back.

"Easy there," the Grandmaster soothed like trying to coo down an injured animal. "Let's just..." he lifted a hand from Loki's liver and placed it on top of his beating heart. That, Loki could feel, too; his heart beating against the Grandmaster's palm as if it was desperately trying to escape the lunatic. He could feel the Grandmaster adding pressure against it, caging it between his fingers, and Loki jerked. Pathetic sound leaving his throat. He had always been trapped, but he had never felt this trapped before. This, his heart literally in the Grandmaster's hand, Loki came to realization he could never be free. Wherever he went, the Grandmaster would always own every part of him. Utterly and completely.

His body was shaking. Trembling in fear. And he realized belatedly he was weeping which probably wasn't good for someone who was intubated, for his throat was burning (Loki was able to feel that) - it felt as though he was drowning, choking. And the more he thrashed against the bounds holding him in place, the tighter Grandmaster held his beating heart.

That's it, Loki thought. He was going to die. He was going to die. The Grandmaster was going to shatter the heart, and after he died - oh, after he died, what would happen to Thor?

"Hush," Grandmaster's free Hand touched Loki's face gently and Loki flinched, eyes shut tight. He couldn't stop shaking. "Do you - do you understand now that you're mine?"

Loki nodded eagerly, submissively (he had always known he was the Grandmaster's, what they were doing here was just to make it more clearly)

"Good,"

His muscles immediately relaxed when, finally, the Grandmaster released the heart, allowing it to continue pumping blood, and Loki had never felt so relieved.

"Well...." Grandmaster trailed off, "sure I know you made the deal you would stay. But here's the problem,"

Loki blinked. His gaze followed the Grandmaster, but soon the man walked to stand on the spot Loki couldn't see, and he felt fear of the unknown rose. "You broke that deal before, didn't you? I mean how can I - how can I ever be sure this time you won't just - run off with that brother of yours if you have a chance?"

What are you trying to say? What are you trying to say?! Still cut open, stuck flat on his back on the table with a tube running down his throat, Loki and knew he would start begging if he could, even if he wouldn't know what he were to be begging for.

"Well,"

Loki heard electricity. No. Buzzing and whirring of some machine coming to life. It was anything but promising.
(He tried to look, but he couldn't see)

Then, finally, Grandmaster moved to stand where he could see, and in his hand, he was holding a drill. If Loki wasn't extremely pale before, he was now.

"It's a good thing I know just the way to make sure you won't runaway again. Let's seal the deal!" He chuckled as he brought the tool to Loki's temple, driving it deep inside his skull.