Powerlessness ( Loki x Reader )

I.

I remember death before my birth as the being I am now.

    I died, a million collapsing stars spread among the universe all living as one soul. I lived ever shinning for years far longer than my own comprehension, and died not all at once but one by one. Slow and beautiful, like the pour of liquid gold among a glass case; I glimered even in death, my void a portal of blissful destruction.

I remember..... Choosing my own rebirth. Filing through souless bodies like a grocery catalog. A bird? A tree? A flower? A human. My mother had the prettiest eyes; eyes I will inherit, a body I'll give life.

Born so soon after death, the first to touch my skin was silk. She gave birth in her own wedding dress, her laugh becomes me as the story is told over the years.

"I knew you were different the second I laid eyes on you. The way you looked at me, It was like you had known me for years. Never mind how beautiful you already were, just holding you anybody could tell how special you were; and how great you were going to be." For a second, her voice had the same life it had before she had gotten sick.

I grabbed her hand and put it to my tear stained face. "Mama, let me fix you! I can-"

"No! No baby, listen to me. If I'm going to heal, I will not do this at the advantage of my own daughter. I will live and if need be; I will die like every other person like me. Like every other human like me."

"But-"

"No 'but's' (Y/N)." She smiled weakly but reassuringly.

I squeezed her hand gently but kissed it in defeat.

My mother was in the Navy when she met my father. He trained her and severed as a rank up to her superior, but rank made no difference to their love and loyalty to one another. I was conceived while both were in service and born while both were on leave; and while both were virtually inseparable at the time, they were split by the Navy's request of my father. But his return back to the force  did not warrant his return back to my mother and I. Nor did 58 other Seals for that matter. Even as I child I blamed myself, and as an adult my existence feels no more than a black hole to a realm of destruction. I feel to distance myself from others, to avoid deviation.

It is that a parent dies when the child faces it's own mortality. Seeing themselves in that last breath, when even the door to it's own life is brittled to the point of disrepair. They lose that recklessness of a safety net. It's what makes us human.

I was 10 when my mother reunited with my father.

It was that day I found immortality. The day she denied my help, the day she sent me to live with my God-Father, the day I became a weapon.

"You're gorgeous." He would tell me. "A natural beauty- it'll be so easy!"

My advantages made me the all ending missile to his war on good and moral. He was the leader of a crime syndicate similar to the mafia, maybe even a bit bigger; and I was the winning card in his deck.

"You can do things other people can't."

"Why waste such a gift?"

"Everyone one not family is foe."

"Anyone would kill to have something like you. Be grateful it's me, (Y/N); somebody who loves you."

The thought of his voice bites my nose with the pungent smell of liquor.

Love. Love was the burn of a lit cigar against flesh soon to heal after the skin eroded. Love screamed behind me as it forced me to kill a man that was once "family" now "traitor". Love looked into the eyes of a weeping school mate, days after looking into the eyes his pleading parents. Love was robbery, Love was murder, Love was lies; Love was evil.