Loki one-shots fanfiction ♡

22. take me under, I don't care if it's dark

Y/n was what Asgardians called a Midgardian. Somehow ended up on the lost planet; Sakaar.
Just like y/n, Loki somehow ended up on the same planet. Both of them were far from home.

Here on Sakaar there was a ruler, a founder who made sure every single lost soul who ended up here had their purpose. He called himself the Grandmaster.

The Grandmaster made y/n a servant. Not a prisoner with job (definitely not a slave) but a servant who still had some dignity. It wasn't a hard job. Not at all. Most of the people here were his servants.

But Loki, Loki was different. Or so the Grandmaster believed he was too different to be made just another boring servant. Too pretty to be thrown in the arena for a fight to the death with those creatures. The planet's ruler made the God of Mischief his lovely little doll. Loki's only job was to sit there and be pretty by the Grandmaster's side.

When Loki was with Grandmaster Loki always smiled, though his smile never reached his eyes. Y/n knew why; The Grandmaster had successfully turned him into a doll. The thing about a doll was that it had no soul.

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When y/n first landed here she was so lost and scared. She wanted to go home, but to leave Sakaar was simply impossible. Once you got here, you can never get out. The Grandmaster took one look at her; a little girl who was trembling like a leaf, then he said 'this one's our servant' before waving a hand, directing her out of his sight.

Being a servant meant her job was to fill Grandmaster's drink, clean up the mass after every orgy the Grandmaster threw and keep her head low. It wasn't really that hard, still ten times better than those 'prisoners with jobs' and the ones who fought in the arena.

Y/n was a fast learner. She knew crying would annoy the Grandmaster and it would only lower her position from a servant with pride to a 'prisoner with job' with nothing. She forced herself to stop her crying and just.... live. Just stay alive and do whatever she was told.

The sooner she forgot about her old live on Earth, the one she'd never get back, the better for herself.

She had no choice but to forget.

Then came the day he was escorted to the hall, chained down and brought to his knees in front of the Grandmaster.

Y/n remembered it clearly, she was there filling the Grandmaster's drink when the door opened and two guards walked in with a raven haired man who looked... badly beaten. His hair all over his face, she could see cuts and bruises of all sizes littered over his pale skin, his clothes were torn and covered in dirt. He was in chain. It was obvious he fought them, not just Sakaar guards but whoever it was the man had an encounter with. He was snarling like a wounded animal. And eventually he was tossed in front of the Grandmaster's throne, pushed to his knees.

It was only a mere second when his eyes met y/n's, and she saw it; the fear in those green orbs. Just like when y/n was first brought here. The fear in his eyes lasted for only a slight second before it was replaced by anger as he turned from her to look at the Grandmaster.

At this point he was panting, or more like hyperventilating, and y/n doubted he even realised he was doing it. The Grandmaster, however, was smiling, nodding and licking his lips like the man in front of him was a fresh meat and he was trying to decide how best to cook it.

"You..." said the Grandmaster, "You're cute. I like you.... Ohhh we're definitely keeping this one."

With a motion of his finger the guards dragged the man out the door. He was fighting, snarling and trying to break free, and y/n thought she felt pity for him. She really did. She wasn't even aware she was staring at him until the Grandmaster's voice snapped her out of her trance; he was ordering her to go get him another drink.