Work Text:
No one cares for me
Not one person in the whole of the nine realms.
Not one cares at all for Loki. Thor's shadow, that lost forgotten prince.
They took away my family, left me an outcast just for my prowess in magic. They killed Narvi and Vali in the most horrible way, they made me watch. Then they expected me to be a good little boy and pretend nothing had ever happened.
When my wife left me they laughed and said that they were surprised she didn't leave sooner.
When I would come home battered and bruised from being beaten up they didn't care. Not one bit.
When I locked myself in my room for days after they sent Hela away they told me to toughen up. Did they not understand what it is like to lose a daughter?
It was the same way with all my other children.
No one cares.
My family lied to me for years, my adoptive family.
I remember the day when Thor discovered the scars on my wrists. He asked who had hurt me. He didn't believe me when I said that I had hurt myself. Who would? Every day the scars on my wrists are a reminder of hell.
Last time I tried to kill myself I landed with the Chitauri, my back is now more scar tissue than skin.
I don't think I will ever be that scared ever again.
I still wake up screaming lost in memories of my children's deaths or banishments I am such a failure. I still can't sleep at night from fear from what the Chitauri did to me.
Thanos haunts me in my sleep.
I live in a place called hell; my mind is the only prison that can hold me, and the only respite from them.
Please just kill me now.