Pathetic. Unworthy. Nithing. Monster. Nithing. Worse then nothing. You are worthless. Never like Thor. You will never be Thor. Pathetic.
Loki couldn't look away from the runes that now covered his body. Black inky lines that to any Midgardian would look like a tattoo. Thick and thin etchings that wrapped around his entire body.
Freak. Jotun. Magic user. Weakling. Cast off. You were left to die, meant to die. Why can't you just die already. Truly pathetic.
At least they would look like simple lines if he ever got far enough away from them. As it was he was too close. Able to see that they weren't just lines but runes. Words forever etched into his skin speaking the dark thoughts of his own mind. Words that Odin must have thought true.
Never worthy. Never Thor. Only cast off meant to die.
Of course the only way to get away from the runes would be one of two ways. One, the Alfather could change his mind with the sentence and give Loki his magic back. Or two, Loki could find away to live through pealing his skin off. The second option wouldn't bring his magic back but at least the mocking runes would finally be gone.
Ergi. Pathetic. Nothing but a shadow. Fatherless. Abandoned. Not golden. You are not wanted. Never wanted. Why do you care.
Those choices hadn't been presented to him. He hadn't even been aloud a voice in his trail. But he always had his mind and it was always spinning. Coming up with ways to make him survive
Weak. A waste of time. Not meant to live on. Why do you keep living on.
Odin should have been proud of his work on Loki, cutting out his magic. The Alfather had taken his time with the job. He had drawn the magic out slowly which of course made it all the more painful for the man he had once called "son."
Monster. Less then shadow. Less then nothing. Darkness. Never light. You are broken.
For a brief moment which learned to stretch on for longer the pain overcame Loki. Till every fiber of his being was on fire. The ice he was born with fighting to put it out. His skin cracked and splintered from the lack of water. It stretched tight across his brittle bones till they snapped. All Loki could comprehend was the all consuming fire.
Your moment in the sun. It kills. You were meant for his shadow. Tucked far beyond his greatness.
Odin purposefully drew the seidr along and out of the ridges of Loki's birth. In doing so his runes showed off Loki's jotun heritage even in his Aesir form.
Blue but not blue. Not one of them.
Once the Alfather had finished his work the guards took Loki to his cell. His chains were removed. He was shoved inside and left alone to rot.
It's what you deserve. Monster. Nothing. Pathetic. Always left to die.
He was given no food nor water. He wasn't permitted books or visitors to fill up his time. Even the guards stayed away. All Loki had was the sparkling grace of his new room.
Suffering. Alone. Abandoned. Forgotten. Left to die. He should have let me die. Why won't they?
Eventually he stood. Went to window-like door and pounded on it. After hours of doing such his hands were black and blue. Blood dripped down forever forsaking the fresh-coated paint.
Unworthy. No wonder you're still here. Unwanted. Forsaken. Ergi.
He sat back down. Leaning his back against the white wall. He stared out the window-like door.
A lie. You. Your life. Your family. All a lie. Alone. It's what you deserve. Abandoned.
Loki began scratching along the runes. Constantly picking up his pace. He didn't seem to notice when he started bleeding. When skin and blood became stuck under his nails. He didn't notice when he started crying.
Odin hates you. Locked you here. Thor pities you. Gave you imagined friends. Frigga never loved you. A burden to her name.
Soon enough he wasn't scratching but ripping at his skin. Forcing it from bone. His skin came away like wrapping paper. It curled up at the edges dribbling blood back onto Loki's arms.
Get rid of the monster. The monster. This skin. It forsaken. Not you. They can still like you.
He yelled out. Mind not connecting completely with the pain of his body yet he still cried out. He didn't hear his own pleadings. The sobs. The yells of, "I'm sorry."
Jotun. Parents tell their children about. Monster. Weak. Nithing. Nithing. Imagined. You are...erase it.
Every living thing in the dungeons could hear what Loki was doing. Yet no one tried to go to him. No one tried to help him. The prisoners didn't even look up when his voice started to crack. The guards didn't move when his pleadings became mere whispers.
A monster no longer. Not dark or light. Just you. Just Loki. Erased it. The monster is gone.
No one was there when Loki's heart stopped beating. When his chest stopped rising. No one saw how he smiled in his final moments. When he smiled with joy for the first time in years.
I did it father. For you. For all of us. He's gone now.
No one saw the smile slip from his face. Or watched his eyes flutter shut that last time. They ignored him one last time.
Gone. I'm gone. No longer your burden.