Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel, Lilo and Stitch or the Loki and the Loon comic series.
As per usual, this is based on Megan's comic book but has extended past her cannon, and neither of us makes any claim to how Loki or Tom Hiddleston would behave in these situations. It's just the concept of Tom and Loki interacting with each other.
Chapter 21: Evilness level.
Loki wasn't entirely sure how he ended up in this situation. For the last month, he and Thomas had been making calls to other members of the 'Marvel Cinematic Universe' to see if anyone was still alive, so far, they head either the endless dialling of the phone, or nothing at all. Now, however, he was sitting cross-legged on the carpet looking at the sketches spread across the coffee table that Thor had drawn him. He sat listening to Thor drone on, his head resting in the palm of his hand as he attempted to listen to his brother. Tom sat on the couch behind him, book in hand, not really paying attention either.
Stitch brought him back to reality, the alien's nose edging a piece of paper into his lap impatiently. He picked it up, examining it. He raised an eyebrow at the image. It was a crudely drawn illustration of himself, in full armour, horns and all. Three-quarters of the figure was almost filled with green colour, not quite inside the lines. He looked up to his brother, "what is this?"
"It's your evilness level, brother?"
"I beg your pardon?"
Thor frowned, "I told you, brother," he said, taking the image from him, placing it with the others. "The green represents how evil you are, brother. But seeing as how your evilness seems to vary from moment to moment, as you said, I have drawn up a few to represent different times of our lives, even single days."
He examined the images, seeing varying levels of green, "and the point of this is?"
"Just keeping track, brother."
He frowned, "right, well then… what did that image represent?" He asked, curious.
Thor held the image in question back up, "your invasion of New York."
Loki looked at the image more closely, realising that the illustration of himself closely resembled how he looked during the battle for New York. The rough, black hair, the overly dramatic armour, sceptre and bluer than usual eyes. The figure was almost entirely filled with green, which made sense. He looked back to the coffee table, and found that upon closer inspection the 'Loki's all took on varying degrees of green. He decided he better order them and see best how Thor saw him over time. It could prove interesting, if not amusing. Maybe even sad.
He wasn't sure yet.
Hesitantly, he reached for a particularly young-looking version of himself, only a babe. He was blue in this one, and held just a small, if not minuscule amount of green. He felt touched. Next, a slightly older Loki was furiously filled in with green. He noticed not too long after that this version of himself was surrounded by snakes and pointy knives, with the note 'don't pick up snakes to admire them' written underneath them. He gave Thor a look.
The next few images followed similar circumstances, becoming increasingly green if they involved a day where he 'pranked' Thor, then almost no green at all on others. Finally, he reached an adult version of himself. It was neatly drawn this time, and the image of himself looked calmer, refined. His armour sleeker, less bold and dominating; his hair short and sleeked back. Curiously, the figure was only coloured up to the knees in green, while the caption read, "my 'coronation day'. He looked up at his brother, "I would have thought I was a bit eviller on this date."
Thor shook his head, "your reasoning for stopping my coronation was sound," he smiled, "it was just the way you went about it wasn't exactly noble."
He stared for a moment, not entirely sure if had heard correctly. "Did you just say I was right?"
Thor ignored him, suddenly engaged in drawing again. Grumbling, he went back to the images. The next was similar to the last, only angrier in how it was drawn, with hints of blue scattered about it. The figure was almost up to his waist in green, the other half in red. The red was apparently anger. He didn't have to read the caption to know this was the day it happened. It was such a contrast, in such a short time. Two completely different people. One who didn't know the truth, and one who did. Thor was right; he had been so angry. He was pulled from his thoughts when a hand clasped his shoulder softly; he looked behind him to see Thomas offering a comforting smile from behind his book.
Smiling weakly, he returned to the images once more; Stitch now curled up in his lap. Next was the New York Illustration, and the one after that was the day he lost her. His mother. He was messy in the illustration, black hair cast everywhere. It held no green at all, but was instead filled with red. The hand on his shoulder squeezed again as he went to the next image, not wishing to linger. This one looked similar to how he looked now, only with a touch of his 'New York' flare still evident. It was obviously meant to represent him during the vents of the Malakeith. It had green scattered about, and red. It was a bit of a mess, which was accurate for the time.
Shaking his head, he found an image of his father. He couldn't help but snort at the fact it too was completely filled with green. All I did was invest in the arts. The next one looked exactly like he did now, black hair hanging neatly at his shoulders instead of being overly styled and sleeked. It held green up to the thighs, which made sense. He had betrayed Thor twice in the span of a few days during Ragnarok, even if Thor didn't notice the second until a few months ago.
He was about to comment when Thor slid him one more image with a small smile. He took it hesitantly, not quite sure what it could be. He looked upon it, not sure what to expect.
He almost cried at what he saw.
The image, unlike the others, featured others instead of just himself. He was in the centre, with a more relaxed posture it would seem. He held his number one bro coffee mug in hand and was clad in green pyjamas instead of armour. On his right was Thomas, with his curly ginger hair and beard (newly grown – he still wasn't sure what to make of it). To his left was Thor, short hair and all. Looking quite happy. Finally, at his feet was Stitch, a chewed-up scarf in his mouth. In terms of green, they all held some, not just him. The green he held was little, and lighter in colour.
He stared at it for a moment more, before looking up to his brother, eyes a tad red, "Thor, I do not think you are such a bad artist after all."
Since he had drawn out the 'evilness scales', the Son of Hiddle had come up with the idea to attack a whiteboard to the fridge, with an illustration of Loki drawn upon it. When Loki wished to, he could colour in a certain level of 'Loki' to let everybody know just how 'evil' he was feeling upon that particular day. Should there be no or little green, they knew not to worry, but should there be lots, the would know to keep their distance or help if necessary.
Thor had thought it a flawless plan and had congratulated Tom, until he remembered that Loki, was in fact, Loki.
It had been a normal morning, or as normal as possible considering the circumstances. Tom was already in the kitchen when he walked in to make himself some breakfast, his brother nowhere to be found. Asleep, he assumed. The 'Loki board' held no green, but had been signed by Loki to let them know he had actually gotten up and updated the board.
Smiling, he picked up one of Thomas's green mugs to make some coffee, enjoying the relaxed feeling the morning held. "Good morning, Thomas," he said, gesturing with his mug.
Thomas smiled back, gesturing with his own mug to the 'void of green Loki' upon the fridge, "that is good, isn't it?"
He filled his mug with coffee, shaking his head, "I fear not, Son of Hiddle."
Thomas frowned, "what do you mean."
"Well, I may be wrong, but this is the first time my brother has shown no green in days, following several days of an abundance of green at that. Which means he is probably up to something mischievous while we have our guards down."
Thomas nodded, "that does make sense, but-"
It was at this moment that the green mug in Thor's hand suddenly became void of Coffee, before disappearing. In its place stood Loki. Before anyone could react, Loki smiled, "blehh it's me!" he said, stabbing Thor before running off.
Thor sighed, pressing his hand against his wound, thinking it was far too early for this kind of bullshit.
Not too concerned, Tom took a sip of his own Coffee, "we probably should have seen this coming."
Thor nodded, wincing slightly, "why doesn't he ever do this to you?"
Tom looked at him gravely, something terrifyingly Loki glinting in his eyes that made Thor do a double take, "oh, he would dare. Trust me."
Loki called back from somewhere in the apartment, "trust him! He will pour orange juice into the milk carton!"
Slowly, Thor raised an eyebrow, slightly concerned.
Thomas shrugged sheepishly, "Loki'd?"