Loki | One Shots

Safe

Life can be cruel, unnecessarily harsh and cold, Loki knew this. He truly believed that he deserved a break, a break from the torture and daily routine in his dismal cell. Staring at the ceiling lifelessly, he ignored Thor's words, his mothers words, he ignored the world. After so much pain, after so much betrayal and anarchy, he was done. He remembers being a naïve child, so much hope that he could live up to his brother, that he could be special, that he could impress his father. None of that compared to his naïve thoughts about his soulmate. He used to think of it in his mothers garden, a wide smile on his face as he wrote small phrases on his arm, little notes and praying for them to be answered. His smile diminished over the decades, the centuries without reply, the black ink fading and turning his soul cold. He never got a reply, not like Thor did. After learning of his true heritage, his true curse, it suddenly made sense to him. A monster such as him couldn't have a soulmate, he would never get a reply because there was nobody who could love a frost giant.

After a thousand years without a soulmate, the little naïve boy died and was replaced with a cold replica.

Y/N never had hope of finding her soulmate, a lifetime of being told she was nothing left no room for hope in her heart. She thought about it often, dreamt about it when the night was partially rough, using the idea of a soulmate to shield her mind from her reality, but she knew it was just a dream, a coping mechanism for the pain. The men still came daily, taking her to the nightmare room and doing their experiments. Her fantasy never saved her from the torture.

Moving into the Avengers tower, Thor had hoped it would help Loki, redeem him and bring back the kind boy he used to be, it didn't. Loki despised living in the tower, having to watch the Avengers with their soulmates, happy. He couldn't take it. Most days, he would stay in the corner and read, he'd block out the nasty comments from Tony and the encouragements from Thor. He'd snarl and retreat to his room when they asked if he had a soulmate, when they write on each other's arms, when they would giggle and thank god for having met their match. He couldn't take much more of it.

Y/N had just been thrown back into her room, her cage, her body aching and bleeding. Her captors, HYDRA, had celebrated her 18th birthday with more extensive testing, pushing her powers to the limits and breaking her further for their own curiosity. They had mocked her, wished her a happy birthday, waved a pen in her face before snatching it away and tossing her into the cell. She knew what they were doing, they were trying to tease her over the fact she could not reach out to her soulmate now that she was of age. It wouldn't work, their teasing failed, she didn't have the hope to begin with.

On her 23rd birthday she lay in the fetal position on the stone floor, her body rocked with violent shaking as she cried. She couldn't take it anymore. The experiments were growing more intense, her power developing at a massive rate and it was scaring her. Was she losing her humanity?

She could control the elements, bend them to her will, turn nature into a disaster. Recently, the scientists had her crushing test subjects using the mud and earth, forcing her to use her once beautiful powers to kill.

As she was slowly giving up the will to live, her days and nights plagued with terror, she did the one thing she didn't thing she would ever do. She wrote on her arm.

Conjuring a small glob of mud, her shaky fingers dabbed into it before dragging it across her arm painfully slowly. Tears fell from her eyes as she wrote the best she could with the poor ink substitute.

"Hello?"

This was her last chance, the only thing she could think of, to turn to fantasies and dreams to free her.