In which the god of mischief is a lot younger than people think and he's got some trauma to go with his witch aesthetic. Takes place during the first Avengers movie- kinda? This fic is disguised as canon complacent, but it's more of an AU.
This takes place in the same universe my Teenvengers! AU. At some point, the Loki from this fic will be featured in TSTLSOOM. Wow, that's a long name. Should I change the name? Teenagers Scare The Living Shit Out Of Me is a bit of a mouthful.
Kid! Loki AU
Loki, age 12
Thor, age 22
Okay, so, here's how I see it. Asgardians age and mature a lot slower than humans do. For simplicity's sake, I've decided that one Asgardian year = one hundred Midgardian years. So that would make Loki 1,200 years old, technically, but he has the body and mental maturity of a 12 year old. I hope that makes sense lol.
Trigger warnings: implied torture, manipulation, mild descriptions of blood/injuries, brainwashing, mind control, suicidal thoughts, uncensored swears, fantasy racism, abuse, and other disturbing themes
When Loki fell through the void, he didn't stop falling.
He tumbled through space, not once slowing. And due to his tutor's lessons, he knew that he could keep falling forever if nothing stopped him.
He should've died. He should've died within seconds, in fact. And he would've... If he was Aesir.
But he wasn't. He was Jotunn, who could survive any cold. He was Jotunn, who didn't need air to live. He was Jotunn, who could go for years without food. The Jotunn lived in the icy caves of their homeland, where warmth, oxygen, and nutrition were scarce.
Even when frost covered his skin and his lungs burned and his stomach felt like it was acid, he survived. He wished he didn't. Norns, he wished so badly to be Aesir, not only for the obvious reasons, but because he didn't want to survive.
Loki was found by Thanos. Or rather, he was found by Thanos's daughter, Gamora. There was a hard look in her eyes as she dragged him from the void of space and tossed him in front of her father.
"Well well, what have we here?" The Mad Titan murmured, touching Loki's cheek. He flinched at the contact. Thanos spoke quietly, gently even, but there was something wrong about the look in his eyes. Something that looked like mock pity, thinly veiled amusement.
Loki had never felt cold in his life, but he shuddered. Home, his mind chanted, he wanted to go home.
Thanos must've read his mind.
"Don't fear, little one," He assured him, but Loki felt the furthest thing from assured. "I will not kill you."
There are worse things than death, Loki was once warned, although he couldn't for the life of him remember who warned him.
"You... will become part of my family." Thanos continued, smiling at him softly. "You will help me spread peace and end suffering. You will be my son, little one."
"I... I don't know you. Please, just toss me back into the void." It's what I deserve.
Thanos chuckled, and a chill ran down Loki's spine. "Oh, little one, you don't have a choice. I will save you. This will be your new home, here on my ship."
Loki had a bad, bad feeling.
Midgardians were fascinating.
Loki envied them as he walked down a path in the Midgardian city. Scouting, he told Thanos. It wasn't really a lie. But, then again, he never told real lies, just... manipulated the truth.
This city was much more colorful than Asgard was. True, it was filthy and hideous, but it was also colorful and fascinating.
Thor had been here, he'd heard. Perhaps not in this city, but on this planet. According to Thanos, his brother- not my brother, he reminded himself- spent time in exile. As he should. He should be exiled and more.You know what you should get?
He said nothing.
Revenge, a voice whispered in his mind, Revenge on your so-called brother, on Asgard. Revenge and power. This is what you want. Don't lose sight of your goal.
He couldn't ignore the voice, and it hurt his head to disagree, so he clenched his fists and said nothing.
The Midgardians passing by paid him no mind. He charmed himself to look like the average "New York" adult. He was still twelve now, but outwardly he was in his twenties. (Like his brother- not my brother not my brother not my brother-). He wore a crisp black suit and his hair was slicked back.
He hadn't planned on talking to anyone, hadn't even planned on making eye contact with a single soul. But then he passed by a vendor selling some kind of food that looked completely unfamiliar. And it smelled delicious.
When was the last time he'd eaten? Thanos had no need to feed him often, given his Jotunn lineage. The lineage you'd rather forget.
Loki didn't like going for long periods of time without eating, though. He could feel hunger just as much as Thor could- even if he didn't technically need to eat. The ability to go for long periods of time without food was born from the long winters of Jotunheim, when the Jotunn would go into a sort of awake hibernation to conserve energy, mostly laying in piles and not moving much.
He, however, was not in Jotunheim, nor was he in hibernation. He was constantly doing things that required energy, from walking to using magic. Loki couldn't go for years without food while doing so.
He'd tried to tell Thanos this. Tried to explain to him the awful hunger. Thanos became angry with him, saying that he was ungrateful for the food that he did receive. He called him a glutton, a spoiled prince. And then he threw him in his room, a cell, and didn't feed him for a long time.
You deserved it, you were being ungrateful, selfish, a brat. Who were you to demand things from the man who'd saved your life? You deserved to rot in space, but Thanos saved you.
"You gonna stand there all day, or are you buyin' something?" A voice snapped Loki out of his thoughts, and he realized that he'd been staring at the food for a little too long. He licked his lips and cleared his throat, attempting to collect himself.
"What are those called, if you don't mind me asking?" Loki pointed at the food. The food vendor, a gruff old man, raised his eyebrows.
"Burgers. You gonna buy one or what?"
He shouldn't. Thanos wouldn't be happy if he- "I'll take three, please."
"What toppings?"
"Uh... surprise me."
The man nodded and elbowed the person next to him, muttered something, and then turned back to Loki, giving him a curious look. As the other person made the tacos with practiced speed, the old man said, "I'm guessing you're not from around here, eh?"
Loki suppressed a flinch and forced his expression to remain smooth. There's only so much that glamor could hide. "What have it away?"
"Your accent," The man frowned. "Where you from? The UK?"
"Something like that." Loki stated coolly. The man seemed to get the hint that Loki didn't want to talk and backed off.
Seconds later, he was being handed a bag of delicious smelling food and he pulled out some of the local currency, calculating how much he'd need and handing it to the man. It wasn't an illusion; he'd conjured the money this time, which cost more energy. But seeing as how he was about to eat food for the first time in a while (too long), he figured he could afford it.
As Loki walked away, he heard the man call at him, "Take care of yourself!" He paused, turned slightly, nodded back at him, and continued on his way.
The burgers tasted better than all of the finest feasts on Asgard combined.
The Man of Hawk was watching him.
He'd been watching him for some time now. Ever since Loki brainwashed him, he could feel Hawkeye's eyes watching his every move.
Loki tried not to let it show how much it unsettled him. It was eerie, feeling the man's presence in the shadows. Knowing that he could pierce his heart with one of his arrows in an instant.
He wouldn't, Loki knew. Couldn't. The scepter's magic was strong.
(He knew because he was trapped under the same magic, had been ever since he'd tried to escape Thanos, he could feel its influence over his mind and his thoughts, unnatural loyalty, he didn't want this, he didn't want any of this-)
"Sir?" Hawkeye's voice was flat and concerned at the same time. "Are you alright?"
Ah. He'd lost himself in his thoughts again. Loki closed his eyes. "I'm fine."
"Are you sure? Is there anything I can get you?"
Hawkeye didn't care, not really. This was the scepter's power, making one loyal to someone else forcefully. (It wasn't real. It wasn't right.)
Power. Power and vengeance. A throne. Isn't that what you've always wanted? The scepter is helping you.
"...Could you get me some burgers?"
The request surprised both of them. Loki had opened his mouth to tell Hawkeye that he was fine and to leave him be. His voice came out small and tired and a little desperate.
Hawkeye was visibly startled, but he composed himself quickly. "Sure, I can do that. Anything else?"
(Yes. Help me. Please, help me-)
W e a k.
"No," Loki shook his head, "That is all."
Hawkeye nodded, and in an instant he was gone. Loki exhaled slowly and slumped down against a wall, shaking. For the first time since he'd arrived on the planet, he let down his glamor. And once again he was a child. A scared, weak, foolish child.
The magic was cast again by the time the Man of Hawk had returned with a paper bag in hand.
(Loki tried to look at it as something necessary, something unpleasant that he had to get done. The truth is that it was just horrible.
He didn't want to hurt those people. He didn't want to hurt that man when he stabbed that device into his eye socket. He hesitated for as long as the scepter allowed him to before he bit the inside of his cheek and listened to the man's screams.
Hawkeye got the material that he needed, but was it worth it? Was it worth seeing the looks of horror on the faces of the Midgardians?
It didn't matter either way. He didn't have a choice.)
This is what you want. This is what you chose.
Thor didn't recognize him.
His brother didn't recognize him.
It was to be expected. After all, he looked ten years older than he actually was, his magic concealing his true appearance.
It still ached when Thor looked at him with no glimmer of recognition in his eyes.
(Sometimes he dreamed of their reunion. Thor would save him from this nightmare, they'd both hug and apologize, and his big brother would take him far, far away from Thanos's ship. That never happened, though. That was childish wishing.)
"WHO ARE YOU?" Thor roared as his grip on Loki's neck tightened. He was dangling him off a cliff. "WHERE IS MY BROTHER? TELL ME!"
Loki could only make a choked noise. Even if Thor wasn't strangling him, Thanos forbade him from letting anyone discover that he is a child. He said that being a child would make others perceive him as weak, and the weak perish.
Which meant that Thor couldn't know who he truly was.
"I've been told that a man who goes by the name of my brother is planning an attack on Midgard," Thor continued as he glared at him. Loki couldn't move, couldn't do anything. "Is this you? Tell me, why do you go by Loki?"
"Uhh, hate to break it to you Point Break, but he can't answer you when you're choking him to death." Stark deadpanned.
After a moment of hesitation, Thor let go of him and he collapsed on the forest ground. His brother looked at him expectantly.
"Well? Give me an explanation!"
Voice hoarse, he answered, "I go by Loki because it is my name." Not a lie.
Thor scowled. "That cannot-"
"Hold up," Rodgers interrupted. "I mean, surely it's possible for someone to have the same name as your brother. It's not that unheard of."
"You... have a point." Thor deflated, all of his previous anger leaving him. He looked at Loki imploringly, who clenched his fists hard enough to draw blood. "Do you... do you know anything of my brother? Anything at all?"
Loki couldn't meet his gaze. He swallowed. "I am not who you're looking for, fool." He forced himself to scoff. "Do I look like a child?" (I'm sorry, I'm the fool, please see through my lies-)
Thor's shoulders sagged and he suddenly looked very, very tired. Loki's stomach sank.
If he knew who you were, he'd only hurt you more. Your brother despises you, and you despise him. That's why you must make him suffer as you have.
"So... what do we do with him?" Stark asked, jutting his thumb at Loki while said man rubbed his throat. They were still in the middle of the woods- had been since Thor hijacked the plane and snatched Loki.
"We do what we were already planning on doing. We take him to SHIELD." Romanoff replied smoothly.
She grabbed his arm and yanked him up. Loki tried not to flinch. (Not for the first time, he wished his magic hadn't been so thorough.)
Basic illusions vanished when they came into contact with something. The illusion concealing his true nature was a powerful one- much like the one his mother had cast to keep everyone from finding out that he was a frost giant. Frigga's enchantment had even managed to fool himself.
He felt the prick of his brother's eyes on the back of his head as it began to rain and the Black Widow dragged him back to the plane.
The cell they put him in was bare and made of glass. He felt like an animal on display. Every time someone new walked in the room, they stared and stared at him until they left. He hated being stared at.
Loki sat in the center of the prison, trying not to move. He was worried that if he so much as twitched his finger, all of those eyes staring at him would know how scared he was, know how much he wanted to cry.
He couldn't cry. He couldn't. Thanos would be angry with him. Thanos hated crying. When Loki was being tortured for hours or however long it was, crying would only give them permission to hurt him more. Thanos said he had to be strong to bring peace. He couldn't afford a weak heart.
And even before that, boys were seen as unmanly on Asgard when they cried- not that being unmanly ever bothered Loki much.
Loki closed his eyes, hoping that that would make the uncomfortable feeling of being watched go away. It didn't, but he could pretend. He was good at pretending. (Too good.)
On the way to the prison cell, everyone on the heli-carrier was cold and blank. Like toy soldiers, they marched wordlessly and followed orders to a T. It was familiar. It reminded Loki of the Chitauri.
When he walked in the cell, the soldiers left and one man walked in. Loki could tell that he was the leader. He had a missing eye and an air of hard-won confidence. (He was scary. Loki wanted to leave.)
"In case it's unclear," The man, who Loki knew must be named Fury thanks to Hawkeye, spoke, "You try to escape, you so much as scratch that glass..."
Fury pressed a button on a panel and the floor opened up, wind howling. Loki peered through the glass wall to see a tall, tall drop.
What in the fucking Norns.
"Thirty thousand feet, straight down in a steel trap." Fury hollered over the loud wind. "You get how that works?" He closed it, and Loki felt a sense of relief.
"Ant, boot." Fury continued with the tone of someone explaining something to a child. Which he was, although he didn't know it.
He doesn't scare you. Show no weakness.
Loki smirked. "It's an impressive cage," He said conversationally, "Not built, I think, for me."
"Built for something a lot stronger than you."
"Oh, I've heard. The mindless beast, makes play he's still a man. How desperate are you, that you call upon such lost creatures to defend you?"
"How desperate am I?" Fury's eye narrowed dangerously. "You threaten my world with war. You steal a force you can't hope to control. You talk about peace and you kill 'cause it's fun. You have made me very desperate. You might not be glad that you did."
(A shiver went down Loki's spine because in that moment, it didn't sound like Fury was describing him. In those words, without even realizing it, Fury described Thanos perfectly. Did he know? Did he know?)
Hawkeye- "Call me Clint"- told him a lot about Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow. He spoke highly of her. Loki wondered if they were lovers, and then scolded himself for wondering. It is irrelevant, the love lives of these puny mortals means nothing to you.
When Romanoff entered the room, it took him a minute to realize she was there. It wasn't until she took a deep breath that he heard her. He suspected that it was intentional.
They spoke, both tense but trying to appear cool, and Loki's curiosity got the better of him. "Is this love, Agent Romanoff?" He asked.
"Love is for children. I owe him a debt."
The way she said children made Loki's breath hitch. Did she know? She couldn't- how could she?
Loki hid a wince as he replied, still curious, "Tell me."
She told him what he already knew, haltingly. Barton was sent to kill her, he spared her life. She'd bargain for his life while the world hung in the balance. She had red in her ledger that she'd like to wipe out.
"Can you? Can you wipe out that much red?" He whispered, and he realized that he wanted to know the answer. Badly. (If she could wipe out the red, perhaps he could too.)
Show no weakness. Show no guilt. You only want power and vengeance and a throne. You are a monster, show nothing else.
Before she could answer, he continued on, the words pouring from his mouth against his will, vicious and ruthless, "Drakov's daughter? São Paulo? The hospital fire? Barton told me everything. Your ledger is dripping, it's gushing red, and you think saving a man no more virtuous than yourself will change anything?"
The raw hurt in Romanoff's eyes was clear, and he continued on. "This is the basest sentimentality! This is a child at prayer!" He spat, "PATHETIC!"
He hid his trembling and cracking voice with his magic.
"You lie and kill in the service of liars and killers. You pretend to be separate, to have your own code, something that makes up for the horrors. But they are a part of you, and they will never go away." He was shaking. He slammed his fist against the glass, and Natasha flinched. When he spoke again, his voice was venom. (He didn't want this. Barton loved her, and Loki was causing her pain. Barton was a good man and he loved Romanoff, which made Romanoff a good woman, and Loki was hurting her.)
"I won't touch Barton. Not until I make him kill you. Slowly, intimately, in every way he knows you fear. And when he wakes just long enough to see his good work, and when he screams, I'll split his skull! This is my bargain, you mewling quim!"
Romanoff let out a single sob, turning away. "You're a monster."
(She was right. But maybe... maybe he could still save her.)
With all of the freedom he had left, he forced out the words, disguised as a taunt. "No, you brought the monster."
Romanoff straightened, all the pain leaving her demeanor. Her eyes remained hurt. "So, Banner... that's your play."
"What?" For the scepter's sake, he feigned confusion.
Romanoff left, and he hoped that she would stop him.
Something about Loki was bugging Natasha.
She felt as though she had a few pieces of a puzzle but not the whole picture.
Thor's missing brother. The scepter. Loki's voice when he emphasized child calling her a child at prayer. Loki's piercing blue eyes. The way he hinted at Bruce being part of his plan.
Something was wrong here. She could feel it in her gut.
Unfortunately, she didn't have much time to think about it as she tried to avoid getting killed by the Hulk.
His brother still fell for the most basic of his tricks. After Loki escaped, he was able to lock him in the glass cage with ease. (Despite his mind screaming no, no, I don't want to hurt him-)
He deserves to feel pain for all the suffering he's caused you. Take him prisoner and torture him, slowly and painfully. Turn him against his allies. Use the scepter. Control him.
(No- NO! THIS ISN'T WHAT I WANT! GET OUT OF MY HEAD GET OUT OF MY HEAD GETOUTOFMYHEAD-)
The control panel. Loki staggered over to it, attempting to conceal the pain caused by his internal war. (If he opened the floor and Thor fell, his brother would be able to break out of the prison and fly to safety. Hopefully.)
No. Kill him. Control or kill him, but you cannot spare him. Kill him. KILL HIM. K I L L H I M.
"Move away, please."
In his turmoil, he didn't notice a Midgardian- puny mortal- come up behind him. He was pointing some kind of device at Loki threateningly.
"You like this?" The man smirked at him, "We started working on this prototype after you sent the destroyer. Even I don't know what it does. Do you wanna find out?"
Kill him. Kill him. Kill him. The chant was running through his head. Casting an illusion, Loki snuck behind the man as he was talking. He gripped a dagger in his hand, the metal cool and light. He raised the blade to strike. Kill him. Kill him.
(I don't want to hurt anyone else! I DON'T WANT TO HURT ANYONE ELSE!)
At the last second, he faltered. He stabbed the man below his heart, a nonlethal wound. The man would recover with proper medical aid.
He barely heard Thor's cries as the man slumped to the ground and he returned to the control panel. He opened the hatch.
Loki risked one last look at his brother. Thor's bright eyes were darkened by hatred and fury. He hesitated, for just a moment, and Thor almost began to look hopeful.
Loki pressed a button and sent him plummeting down thirty thousand feet.
He looked down and watched as the cage fell. Thor wasn't escaping. Why wasn't he escaping? (Oh, Norns, Loki made a mistake, he just murdered his brother, he-)
He exhaled as he saw the cage shatter and Thor fly out at the last second. To his side, he heard a weak voice.
"You're gonna lose."
It should've been a threat to Loki, so why did it sound like a reassurance?
"Your heroes are scattered, your floating fortress falls from the sky... where is my disadvantage?"
"You lack conviction."
Loki stiffened at those words. (Did this man know? Did he know that the scepter was influencing Loki too?!) "I don't think I-"
The man shot him.
Loki crashed through the wall, the force of the weapon sending him flying. And ow it burned! Loki grit his teeth and clutched the burn wound from the weapon. Holy mother of Odin that was painful. His head hurt- he had hit it at some point.
Weak. You can't even stand against a puny mortal's weapon. You need to be stronger. Don't forget what's important- POWER.
(Shut up. Shut up. Get out of my head. I don't want you here.)
You cannot escape the inevitable. You will have everything you've ever wanted, all you have to do is-
(Is what, exactly? Genocide?)
A s m a l l p r i c e t o p a y f o r p e a c e. These mortals are helpless without you, slaughtering each other in their meaningless wars. You can end their suffering.
(All this will do is cause more suffering. I won't-)
Loki cried out as a sharp pain stabbed his head. By the time the pain alleviated, he forgot what he was thinking about.
Coulson prided himself on being an observant man.
Nat had mentioned something to him earlier, something about things not adding up. Nat was never wrong. This was confirmed when he saw that the stab would he got wasn't fatal.
It all clicked into place when Loki leaned down to watch Thor fall with worry in his eyes.
Thor's brother was named Loki. Thor's brother could create illusions. This man was named Loki. This man could create illusions. Loki could create an illusion to make himself look older.
Thor said that his brother's eyes were green when he was describing him. Loki's eyes were blue. Blue like how Clint's hazel eyes had turned blue when the scepter messed with his head.
...Well. Shit. This just got more complicated.
Fury ran into the room and spotted Coulson. His eye widened infinitesimally, the most emotion he'd ever show. Fury swore under his breath as he crouched beside him.
"Sorry, boss. The god rabbited." Phil smiled weakly.
"Just stay awake." Fury grabbed Phil's chin. "Eyes on me."
"I'm okay, it's-" Phil was cut off by a cough. "Never mind. Listen, about Loki, there's something you gotta-" cough "-you gotta know."
Fury tried to shush him, but Coulson shook his head. "Sir, Loki is-" He coughed again.
"It looks like a lung was punctured." His boss scowled, scanning Phil analytically. "You shouldn't be talking. Don't worry, the medical team will be here in a minute."
The edges of Coulson's vision were beginning to darken, and he knew that he didn't have long before he passed out from blood loss. He took a breath the best he could. Blood dribbled past his lips- definitely a punctured lung, then.
"Loki is Thor's brother and- and I think he's being mind controlled." Phil managed.
Fury stared at him for a moment, gears turning in his mind. "...You're sure?" Phil nodded.
Coulson's boss swore loudly.
Great. Juuust great. This was exactly what Fury needed- learning that the man who was trying to take over the planet was actually Thor's kid brother.
Fury paced in his office. He needed Thor's cooperation in order to stop Loki. However, if Thor knew that it was actually his brother being mind-controlled, his head wouldn't be in the game. He would be hesitant, sloppy. His focus would be on saving Loki instead of saving the world.
That wouldn't be ideal. The Avengers were having a hard enough time just getting along as it was. They needed something to bring them together, something that wouldn't distract them, something that would put their focus on stopping Loki...
Fury's gaze fell on his computer, where the security footage from the med bay that Agent Coulson was staying in was playing.
Phil would be fine. A few weeks of recovery and he'd be good as new.
...The Avengers didn't know that. Rodgers, Stark, and Romanov were all fond of the man.
Hm.
Fury sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Well, I was already going to hell anyway." He muttered to himself.
Clint was a lot of things. Stupid wasn't one of them.
(Not normally, anyway, but that staff was... messing with him. Messing with his head, somehow. Deep down, he knew it, he knew there was something wrong.)
Clint had done awful, awful things in his life. He'd accepted that. He wasn't above it. He wasn't proud of it, but he wasn't boutta deny it either.
This, though... helping to build a portal for aliens to come through so that they could take over the world... this was new. And weird. And a bit out of character for him. (Why was he doing this again?)
His eyes flickered over to his new boss, Loki. He was talking to Selvig about the portal. The man's dark hair, which was normally slicked back, was loose and tumbling in his face. Clint's fingers itched to tie it back in a braid just like how he used to do with Nat.
Nat. His best friend. Where was she? Why wasn't she helping? Didn't she know that they had to do this because... because...
Clint frowned. He tilted his head, eyes narrowing like they do when he thinks. (Why was he doing this again? Why was he helping Loki?)
Because you love him, a voice answered simply, whispering into his mind. You love him, you'd do anything to help him, remember?
Oh. That... made sense? Yes, that made sense. Clint was loyal to a fault, Nat always said so. If he loved someone, of course he'd help them. Where was Nat, anyway? Maybe she was busy.
Forget about her. She's not important right now. Just focus on helping him. You want to. You love him, remember?
Yes. Yes, he loved Loki. Of course, of course. That made sense. That made sense. (Did it, though? Did it really?)
Clint wasn't stupid. He wouldn't just help someone for no reason. He trusted his brain more than that. And, besides, he loved Loki- surely he wouldn't love someone who'd steer him wrong. There was a purpose for all of this, and he had to help. He had to.
It wasn't the first time he'd done something awful, and it wouldn't be the last. But this was doing something awful for a purpose, for someone he loved. So, really, there wasn't anything to worry about.
Clint caught his reflection in a piece of metal out of the corner of his eye. He looked the same as he always did, but something was... off. (Since when were his eyes blue?)
It's nothing to worry about. They make you look more like Loki, the one you love.
Speaking of Loki... the man looked exhausted. Baggy eyes, slumped posture- he even looked like he was swaying a little bit at one point. He was shaky, too- his hands wouldn't stop trembling. That wasn't good.
Clint hopped down from his perch. Loki turned to him, eyebrows raising in a question. "Sir, you look tired, you should get some rest. We have a couple hours of waiting while Selvig works."
Something in Loki's expression tightened, almost looking... what was that? Guilt? Anger? Something else entirely? Clint was good at reading faces, but Loki's face was... he didn't even know.
"I'm fine." Loki said, clipped and sharp. "I do not require rest."
Clint frowned. "When was the last time you slept?"
Loki didn't answer, just tugged at his long hair as he avoided his gaze. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen Loki sleep at all in the past few days. (Wait, had Clint slept in the past few days? He knew he had insomnia, but when was the last time he'd do much as taken a nap? He wasn't even tired, though, which was odd.)
Clint's eyes narrowed, and Loki actually shrunk in on himself, hunching his shoulders to make himself look smaller. His hair fell in front of his distinctly blue eyes like a curtain. It reminded Clint of how Nat would use her hair to shield her face when she was upset but didn't want to show it.
A pang of worry struck his heart. For some reason, Loki didn't want to sleep. Clint couldn't do anything about that, but...
Clint walked away, leaving Loki looking confused and mildly relieved, before returning with a candy bar. "Here. The sugar will help you stay awake."
"Oh." Loki took the candy. "Th... thank you, Agent Barton?"
It was said like a question. For a moment, Loki sounded... young. Like a kid. Like an unsure little kid, very small in a world very big. Clint wanted to hug him, to assure him that it was okay and everything would be okay and he shouldn't have to be scared to sleep. Instead, he smiled reassuringly.
"Call me Clint."
Clint was a lot of things. Furious was one of them.
And stupid. God, he was so stupid. Now that whatever weird fog that had invaded his brain was lifted, he felt so stupid.
Loki used him. In almost hurt, in a way, it almost felt like a betrayal. Clint felt sickened by the way he'd loved Loki- not in a romantic way or a sexual way, but just... overwhelming love. And it was fake and unnatural the whole time and Loki used him.
"It's okay," Nat had assured him, "It wasn't you."
But he wanted to scream at her that it was him, it was him the entire time, the only thing that had changed was that he was willing to do anything for Loki and he hated it. He felt violated, disgusted, wrong.
He would never love Loki. Never. Not in a million goddamn years. He would take him down, make him pay, make him hurt for using him like that-
Calm down, Clint. He reminded himself, grimacing. Blind rage doesn't do anyone good. If you're gonna take him down, you've gotta keep a clear head.
Still though, one way or another, he'd made sure Loki never brainwashed anyone again.
Loki was at Stark's tower.
He barely remembered getting there. His mind was a mess. The whispering voice was screaming now, angry and violent. (He needed to lose the coming fight. He couldn't forget, he needed to lose...)
Why would you lose? You hate losing. The voice was whispering again, soft and sickeningly sweet. Loki wanted to cry in relief. It wasn't yelling anymore, the pain was gone. Why not win? This is what you've been working towards this whole time. All of your hard work would go to waste. You must win this fight, for your own sake. It would be a shame to do all of that work all over again. Besides, once you win, you will have everything you've ever wanted. Everything. Doesn't that sound nice?
(All I ever wanted was...)
Suddenly, a portal opened. It was orange like cinders- a signature sign of Midgardian sorcery, he remembered from his classes.
A man stepped out of the portal. He was tall, with sharp features and clever eyes. There were streaks of white in his dark hair on either side of his head. He was neat, not a hair out of place or a speck of dirt on his red cloak. He carried himself with an air of sophistication and business-like carefulness.
"Mr. Loki Laufeyson?" The man more stated than asked, raising his eyebrows at him. Loki nodded numbly, and then mentally shook himself.
"Who are you?"
"Doctor Stephen Strange, PHD, sorcerer supreme, guardian of this realm." The man rattled off briskly. Loki retained none of it. "I'm afraid you're going to have to come with me for endangering this world and threatening to bring an army and commit massive genocide, as well as using an infinity stone to control people. Anything you want to say?"
Loki scoffed. "If you think you can stop me from achieving my goals, you're sorely mistaken. I will not let all of my work go to waste."
He flicked his wrists and his daggers appeared in his hands. Strange looked unimpressed.
He lunged at the Midgardian sorcerer with the intent to kill. A portal like the one from before appeared, and he found himself falling from the ceiling. He snarled and pushed himself up from the ground, lunging for the Midgardian again.
Gold blades met gold magic and they clashed, sparks flying dangerously.
Strange paused, and then frowned, looking at him... well, strangely. He muttered something that sounded like a spell and his eyes glowed. He stared at Loki analytically. "Huh."
"I don't have time for this, petty mortal-"
"You're a kid."
Loki froze. And then, "What?"
"You're a kid. And your eyes are green."
"How-" Loki couldn't breathe. "How- how did you-"
"I'm the sorcerer supreme, remember? Although, I will say that it's a very good illusion spell, especially for a kid. How old are you? Ten, eleven?"
Loki couldn't breathe. Loki couldn't breathe. He felt small, small, small. This man knew. This man knew. He wasn't supposed to let anyone know. Thanos would be angry with him. Thanos would be angry with him. Thanos couldn't be angry. He-
His illusion had melted away, not that it mattered anymore. Because he failed to do what Thanos wanted. Thanos would be angry.
They were somewhere else now. Strange made a portal that swallowed them up and took them somewhere else, an odd house filled with old-looking relics. He still couldn't breathe.
The voice was screaming again, screeching and howling so loud that Loki wondered if it could be heard outside of his mind. And then he realized that it could, because he was screaming, clawing at his hair and face, hitting the sides of his head in hopes of quieting the voice.
Strange was there, but he was standing still, seemingly frozen in shock. Loki didn't- couldn't pay any attention to him.
YOU FAILED. YOU FAILED. THANOS WILL BE ANGRY WITH YOU. AS HE SHOULD BE. YOU DESERVE TO FEEL PAIN, PAIN, YOU WORTHLESS JOTUNN SCUM.YOU'RE GOOD FOR NOTHING, NOTHING AT ALL, THANOS SHOULD'VE LEFT YOU TO ROT. ROT, LITTLE ONE, R O T.
Something hit his head. He barely registered the pain as he was enveloped by sweet darkness and silence.
Wong was glaring at Stephen with crossed arms and pinched lips. "What did you do?"
"It's not my fault this time."
"Why is there an unconscious, genocidal, scarred child laying on the couch?"
"We don't know that he's necessarily genocidal."
"Why would you bring him to the Sanctum?"
"What else was I supposed to do with him?"
A sigh. "Stephen."
"What?! Look, you would've done the same thing in my shoes."
Wong merely shook his head and grumbled, muttering something about not my problem as he left to go buy more ice cream.
Stephen dragged a hand over his face and suppressed a groan. Today was turning out to be a hassle.
He allowed himself a moment of internal complaining before he sighed and turned his attention to the boy. Loki.
The first thing that stood out was how thin he was, way too thin and boney. A gust of wind could knock him over. Malnourished, then.
His breathing was shallow and shaky. His lips looked dry and cracked- dehydrated. His skin was pale and cold, but not clammy. His temperature was lower than it should've been, especially considering that it was summer. There were dark bags under his eyes. He looked exhausted.
Okay. So he hadn't eaten any food, drank any water, or slept properly in a while. The last one made sense- the mind stone lost its hold on someone when they were asleep or unconscious.
The most disturbing thing was the injuries. Stephen didn't do a full examination- he didn't feel comfortable undressing an unconscious child- but the skin he could see was bruised, cut, and scarred. There was a scar running down his neck and probably went down to his chest. It was too neat and straight to be caused by an accident.
With a lurching horror, Stephen caught sight of something on Loki's shoulder. It was the edge of a burn scar. Not just any burn scar. It wasn't caused by a fire. It had purposeful lines and shapes. This was a brand. A brand.
The universe just didn't want my life to be easy today, huh?
As if on cue, as soon as he thought that, the boy shot up on the couch. He was panting, eyes wild and scared. Shit, I didn't think he would wake up for a while.
"Hey, Loki," He said in his most soothing tone as though he were talking to a spooked animal. The kid's head snapped over to where he was standing beside the couch, and his eyes widened. "Look, I'm not gonna hurt you- you were being controlled, right?"
Loki nodded a little, almost imperceptibly. He looked wary. Stephen would have to proceed with caution. He wasn't good at this. This is why he became a surgeon and not a nurse, so that he wouldn't have to deal with comforting people. When he was a doctor, it was simple. Go in, do the surgery, leave, and avoid the patient's sobbing family members. Maybe he should've spent less time avoiding people.
"Okay, Loki, you're safe here, alright? Whoever was controlling you-" Earlier, when the kid was having a panic attack or whatever the hell that was, he was yelling about someone named Thanos. He probably shouldn't bring that up now, though. "-they can't get you here. You're at the New York Sanctum, a sanctuary for Earth's sorcerers."
There was a pause. Stephen held his breath. And then Loki whispered something under his breath in a foreign language- something that sounded almost like Norwegian but wasn't. The kid blinked, and Stephen realized that Loki was on the verge of tears.
Stephen was about to ask what he said when Loki looked down and, with a wobbly voice that sounded completely different from the one he heard in Stark's tower, he spoke.
"I want my brother."
Tony Stark was ready for a fight.
He was pissed, grieving, and ready to beat Loki's ass back to space. He got to his tower as soon as he could, cursing on the way when JARVIS notified him of Loki breaking in, and then... nothing. It was empty when he got there, no insane god in sight.
What was even crazier was the confused and bewildered scientists on the roof, who were this close to finishing the portal when they just... stopped. They were pretty out of it, too- like how Barton was at first after Romanoff hit him in the head, like they'd just woken up from a dream.
And Loki... Well, Loki just... disappeared.
"I do not understand," Thor said once they all convened at the tower. "Did we win the battle?"
"That's the thing, there wasn't a battle." Tony muttered as he swiped at a tablet.
"Sir," The voice of his AI came from the speakers, "There's something you should see."
The security footage from when Loki arrived at the tower came up. Oh, of course- why didn't he think of that? This is why he kept JARVIS around.
"Play it on the tv, J."
"Yes, sir."
The footage played, and when it was over there was a thick blanket of silence in the air. Nobody moved. That is, until Thor picked up his hammer. He stood and began walking away, electricity crackling around him.
"Excuse me, friends." He'd never heard Thor sound so cold and angry before. "I must find my brother. And whoever did this to him must pay."
"Hold up, Point Break." Thor stopped, eyes narrowing at him. "We can help you find him. After what we just saw... I think we have to help, really. Besides, we're involved in this now."
"He's right." Barton said, stiff but sure. "If... if Loki was being controlled by someone else, then... this changes everything."
No shit it changes everything.
Loki looked skinnier than he was before.
That was the first thing that Thor noticed as he watched the events of what had happened in Stark's tower replay, and his mind clung to it. Loki was skinnier after his illusions vanished.
He was paler, too- and he looked exhausted. His skin was littered with wounds. And after Strange revealed what he was hiding, there was a wild, panicked look in his eyes. Thor had never seen him lose his composure like that.
Loki had always been mature for his age, cool and bright and calm even in the face of pressure. His grin, though it be impish and usually an indicator of mischief, always lifted Thor's mood, for he knew that it was never cruel.
When Thor was a child, about a thousand summers since his birth, there was a great battle between Asgard and Jotunheim.
Thor's mother brought him along to the land of the frost giants. His father said that he needed to have experience with war if he was to become king one day. Mother was angry with Father, but did not argue.
Jotunheim was cold. He'd never been somewhere that made his teeth chatter and his lips turn blue. It was essentially a wasteland, with nothing but ice for miles and miles.
But... it was a beautiful realm. It was different from Asgard, the complete opposite, but it wasn't as ugly or frightening as Thor thought it would be. The sun glinted off of the snow, lighting it up like crystals. The palace was a huge fortress of azure ice, perfectly sculpted and incredibly stunning.
Thor followed Mother, staying close by her side as she ordered him to. That is, until they got to the throne room.
On the throne sat the largest, fiercest Jotunn that he'd ever seen. He was covered in scars. And, very quietly, Mother told Thor to go and hide.
So he ran through the slippery halls of the palace. He slid on the icy floors and nearly fell many times, always regaining his balance at the last second.
He searched for somewhere to hide until the battle was over. The corridor was long and never ending. It was a labyrinth, each path only taking him to another hall.
Suddenly, he heard... crying. Someone was crying. An infant, from the sound of it.
He followed the cries to a room in the castle. There was a woman collapsed against a wall, an Aesir woman dressed in warm furs. She wasn't dressed like the other soldiers were, and she carried something in her arms. The source of the crying. A baby.
The woman shifted to look at him, eyes wide, and he saw blood on her clothes. She was wounded. The baby was still crying.
"Please," The woman spoke abruptly, sharply. "Please, help him, please, he's only a babe, please-"
"I- I don't-" Thor stammered, not sure what to say. The woman sobbed, clutching the baby wrapped in cloth.
"He hasn't done anything wrong! Please- please- he was only born! He's innocent- he's committed no crimes, he was only born!"
The woman was frantic and inconsolable. For a moment, Thor wondered if she was mad. But a glance at her eyes disproved that theory. She wasn't insane, just desperate. She needed someone to believe her, to believe that her baby was innocent. So he did.
Thor cautiously approached the woman, kneeling in front of her. She was shaking, murmuring unintelligible pleas. With one bloody hand, she gently caressed her baby's head, smearing red on his face as she did so. Her hand nudged aside the cloth around the child, and Thor's breath caught in his throat.
The baby was blue.
That couldn't be right. He was too small to be a frost giant's son. Unless...
Slowly, Thor looked up from the baby to the mother. She was studying him with narrow eyes. She knew what he'd realized.
"Oh, Norns, you..." Thor trailed off. He wasn't sure what he would've said anyway.
"My son is innocent." She said fiercely. She was still shaking and dying and sobbing, but she looked like she could've killed anyone who so much as touched her child.
"I believe you." Thor replied, the words falling out of his mouth without a second thought. Because he did believe her. Even if it went against everything he was taught, she said it with such conviction that he couldn't help but acknowledge it as truth. This woman held nothing but truth and love. So, so much love.
Had Thor's mother ever shown that much affection for him?
"What's his name?" Thor asked before he could stop himself. The woman looked surprised.
"Loki... Laufeyson."
Oh. Oh Norns. Of all the frost giants, it had to be him?
Thor's shock was cut off by a pained groan from the woman. Right, she was still wounded. Thor reached into his satchel and pulled out the emergency bandages that Mother made him bring. He hesitantly reached over to the woman, stopping his hand inches away from the wound on her stomach. He wasn't good at healing magic, despite the many times his mother tried to teach him.
Still, he tried. He struggled to remember Mother's lessons as he concentrated on the blood. There was so much blood. The woman must've known what he was trying to do, and she shook her head.
"The wound is too great, and I used my magic healing Loki," She told him shakily. There wasn't a hint of regret in her voice. She held the bundle of cloth towards him, and he instinctively reared back. "P-Please, child... your king will kill my son's father, and I'll perish here. Please take care of my son. Please. He's innocent, please, I beg of you- I know what you've been taught, I've been taught the same, but the Jotunn are no monsters, they're men, n-nothing more, and Loki is only a baby. Please."
Thor nodded. The woman's face crumpled in relief, fresh tears pouring down her cheeks and crystallizing. She leaned down, murmuring something in the frost's giant's language, and strange letters appeared on her child's forehead. She kissed it tenderly and the words disappeared, sinking into Loki's blue skin. Briefly, Thor wondered how she could touch him when it was common knowledge that Jotunn skin burned to touch.
She handed Loki to him gently. Thor was careful when he took him, remembering how he saw mothers on Asgard carrying babies.
The woman's wound looked worse than it did before, but she didn't seem to be in pain. She was smiling, her gaze fixed on her child. Thor wasn't entirely sure if she saw him, but then her eyes flicked up to his own.
Thank you, she mouthed, and then her green eyes went dull.
Thor began making his way back to the throne room numbly. He wasn't sure what to make of anything anymore. All he knew was that that woman loved her child and now she was gone. She'd spent her last moments making sure he was safe.
No one that loved could possibly be a monster.
Thor paused and really looked at Loki for the first time. His eyes were red like summer poppies. Poppies were Thor's favorite. His skin was as blue as the sky. Thor gingerly touched Loki's forehead where the woman kissed it. He was afraid of being burned, but he felt no pain when he touched him. Loki's forehead was cool, but not freezing enough to burn. Thor wondered if this was normal for Jotunn or if it was because Loki was half Aesir.
Thor could still hear the woman's murmured words in his mind. He wondered what they meant.
"Thor!" He started when he heard his mother's voice and he turned to see her running towards him. "Thor, I've been looking for..." She stopped, staring at the baby.
He could tell what she was thinking. He suddenly felt like the woman and understood why she pleaded with him so.
"He's innocent." He explained. Mother raised her eyebrows, eyes wide. She began to shake her head and protest, but Thor cut her off. "He's innocent. I made a promise to take care of him, and I will."
Mother pressed her lips together. She was thinking. Thor bit the inside of his cheek and prayed to anyone who was listening. His mother had a big heart, he knew, but heart only went so far.
Finally, she sighed. "Curse you and your empathy." She kneeled down in front of him, examining the baby. "Your father can never know, understand?" Thor nodded. "And neither can this child."
"What?!" Thor held Loki closer to his chest. "What do you mean he can't know? I think he'd be able to tell that his own skin is blue."
"Not if he's protected by a lie." Mother said grimly, and Thor felt his stomach drop. She didn't mean-
Mother waved her hand over the child and he immediately changed. Rough blue turned to smooth ivory. Summer poppies turned to emeralds. Mother pulled her hand back and grimaced, disgusted with her own work.
Thor was shocked by the transformation, but in a way, it looked... not right, but not wrong either. Loki looked just like his mother. It was still unnatural, though. Using illusion to conceal one's true appearance was considered taboo. They say that if one hides too much, they'll lose themselves and forget who they are completely.
To conceal someone else with an illusion indefinitely... it was wrong.
Mother could read Thor's horror. She crossed her arms.
"This is the only way. No one can know, not even him. It will keep him safe from prejudice and self-hate. We will raise him as one of us."
So they lied. They lied when they took Loki to Father, they lied when they introduced Loki as Asgard-born, they lied when they said that the baby's father was Aesir.
And they lied to Loki. That hurt Thor the most. But it was worth it in the end. It was worth seeing Loki grow into a bright child, a happy child.
It was worth it until Loki learned the truth and Thor lost his brother.
"How could you, Thor?" Loki's voice trembled and broke, furious and anguished and confused all at once. "You knew this whole time?! And you didn't think to tell me?!"
"Brother, please, let me explain-" Thor reached out to touch his shoulder, but he hit his hand away.
"Don't touch me! I'm not your brother, I never was!"
Thor flinched. That stung something deep in his chest. "Of course you're my brother, you-"
"I'm a monster!" Loki sobbed, staring at his own blue hands.
Thor shook his head violently, clasping his hands on Loki's shoulders. "NO! No, listen to me, you're not a monster! Your mother-"
"My mother?" Loki interrupted, sharp and cold. He tore away from Thor's grip. "You... you know who my mother is? And you never... you never..."
"It's not..." Thor hesitated. "It's not that simple."
"Where is she?! Thor, Norns, WHERE IS MY REAL MOTHER?!"
"She's dead!"
Thor regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. Not because Loki didn't deserve to know, but because he didn't deserve to be told like this. Loki's poppy red eyes widened, and he stumbled back as though he'd been struck.
"...Oh."
You've made a mess of it now, Odinson. He thought to himself bitterly as he tried to remedy his mistake.
"She- she asked me to protect you, to keep you safe- I promised her I would, she loved you so much, she never thought of you as a monster, she-"
"What was her name?" Loki asked quietly, and Thor's heart stopped in his chest.
"I... I don't know." Regret, regret, regret. Why didn't he ask her for her name before she died?
"I... see." Loki's expression hardened. "Is there anything else you need to tell me, brother?" The word was spat, laced with bitterness and anger. Thor racked his brain before he remembered something.
"She left you a message. Here." He pointed to his forehead. Loki touched his own head, looking surprised.
"What do you-" Loki cut himself off. His eyes narrowed in concentration and, slowly, he pulled his hand away. A trail of words followed his fingers, the same Jotunn words that the woman kissed into his head that day.
Loki stared at them for a moment, scanning the foreign letters. "What does it say?" He demanded, shoving the words at Thor's face. He shook his head.
"I don't know. I don't speak the Jotunn tongue. That message was meant for you alone."
"I don't..." Loki's eyes suddenly lit up the way that they do when he solved a difficult puzzle. "The All-Speak! Mother- Frigga taught me, if I can just..."
Thor's little brother's eyes squeezed closed and he glowed gold, the color of Mother's magic. He opened his eyes again and waved his hand over the words. They morphed and twisted around until they were of Asgard's tongue. It reminded Thor of when Mother cast the illusion that turned Loki Aesir.
It was a single sentence. There were no clues as to what the name of Loki's mother was, nor were there any secrets or enchantments. It was a single sentence.
From the stars I will love you, my Aurinkontähti.
Thor stared at it, feeling tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He looked back at Loki, and was startled by what he saw.
There wasn't a single emotion on his brother's face. It was smooth and blank and still. Too still. His brother was stiller than a lake, stiller than stone. His wonderfully expressive brother who wore everything on his sleeve had put on a mask of porcelain.
There was no silly smirk, no mischievous glint in his eyes. Not even a tear.
His brother blinked once, twice, and then vanished in a flash of green light.
His head hurt. Numerous wounds on his body ached. And yet, for the first time in a long time, his mind was clear.
From the stars I will love you, my Aurinkontähti.
Loki remembered now.
Thanos didn't take very many memories from him except for that one. With the mind stone, Thanos stole the only memory that Loki had of his mother, whoever she was.
All that Loki knew was that she was Aesir, and she loved him. And Thanos stole that.
From the stars I will love you, my Aurinkontähti.
Aurinkontähti. Day star. There must've been some kind of context for that somewhere, but Loki had no clue what it was. The All-Speak didn't entirely translate it, so it must've been a name.
He'd sort through it later. After all of this mess was cleaned up. Norns, things really went to shit.
What Loki really wanted to know was why Thanos took his mother's love from him. Perhaps... perhaps it was because without it, he saw himself as a monster. He was easier for Thanos to control.
It made him sick.
Loki glanced down at himself. He was sitting on the Midgardian sorcerer's couch in the place that he'd called The Sanctum. The outer illusion, the one concealing his age, had disappeared, but the one concealing his race was still there.
He hesitated for only a moment, taking a breath and steeling himself, before waving a hand over his skin.
It was the feeling of taking a pair of too-small boots off after a long day. It was the feeling of drinking a gulp of water after walking in the heat. It was the feeling of relief, and he exhaled deeply.
He inspected his skin. It was rougher than before, like tree bark. When his shifted his arm, he noticed that it twinkled like snow. It was pale blue with white freckle-like specks sprinkled across it, like stars against the day's sky.
Aurinkontähti. Day star.
Loki wanted to cry.
Instead, he clenched his fists in the fabric of the blanket that Dr. Strange had given to him. It was resting on his lap. Strange had tried to pull it around his shoulders, but Loki tugged it off. He was never cold.
The door to the Sanctum opened and Loki jumped, startled. A Midgardian man walked in wearing red robes. He was shorter than Strange and carrying a tub of ice cream.
The man eyed him and Loki felt himself sinking into the couch. Finally, he walked up to Loki and held out his hand.
"Hello. I am Wong." The man said, a tad stiff. Loki scrunched his brows in confusion before remembering the Midgardian greeting. He gingerly took Wong's hand and let go as quickly as he could.
"I am Loki." He replied. Wong snorted.
"I know. You've gotten yourself in a lot of trouble, Loki. What a mess." Wong was gruff, but somehow not unkind. He held the tub of the Midgardian dessert out towards him. Loki wondered if it was some sort of human custom to give sweets to people who tried to invade their planet. Clint did the same thing multiple times.
Oh. Clint.
Guilt settled in the pit of his stomach, and he pushed the ice cream away. "I agree, it is a mess."
Wong frowned at him, and he hoped he hadn't offended the man by refusing the ice cream. Wong simply huffed and opened the tub, pulling out a spoon from somewhere and eating.
"Leave him alone, Wong," The Sorcerer Supreme's voice drawled. He walked in briskly, cloak floating beside him instead of resting on his shoulders. Loki decided not to question it. "Good news, kid. The people building the portal stopped making it. No invasion, no fighting."
The tension in Loki's shoulders that he didn't even realize was there melted away. "And... what of my brother?"
"He's fine. He's looking for you."
"I see." Loki fiddled with the blanket in his lap. "Thank you, Sorcerer Strange. I am indebted to you for your help."
Strange waved him off. "No debt, I'm just doing my job."
"Still, you-"
"Hold that thought." Strange interrupted, frowning. He stared into nothing for a moment before swearing to himself and doing some sort of magic. "That's... shit, that's not good."
"What's happening?"
"Loki." Strange's stare was piercing and made the anxiety in Loki's chest swell. "Do you know if Thanos has a way to track you?"
A wave of cold washed over him.
"Sir, something's entered the atmosphere." Bruce heard JARVIS chime. He fought to keep the dread at bay.
"Any visual from the satellites?" Tony asked, chewing on the end of a pen.
"Yes, sir."
A spaceship showed up on the screen. Tony swore loudly.
Bruce dug his nails into his palms.
Clint watched as a spaceship crashed into Central Park. Nat and Steve had already evacuated the civilians. Aside from the Avengers and a few pigeons, the place was completely empty.
He nocked one of his deadlier arrows, an explosive one, into his bow and pulled the string back. For the love of god, whoever comes outta that spaceship better not try to invade the planet. He thought wryly.
The ship hissed and opened, fog leaking out. It looked just like old alien movies. Huh, so those shows he watched growing up were accurate after all. Good to know, good to know.
Clint nearly dropped his bow when a giant purple dude stepped out of the ship, arms raised in a placating gesture. The alien had a small, almost patronizing smile on his face.
There were a few moments of silence. Clint decided to break it.
"If you're here to commit genocide like that last guy, I swear I'll blow your freaking face off."
"Do not fear. I do not come here seeking war." The man's voice was gentle and loud at the same time. "I'm merely here to find my son. He's lost, you see. I will save him."
Clint glanced at Nat, who shook her head minutely. Something about this dude was off. He didn't trust him. And besides, something about him was... creepily familiar.
"What's your son like? Big, ugly, and purple?" Clint's head snapped over to where Tony was and he resisted the urge to strangle the man. Curse that freaking Stark.
To everyone's surprise, the alien chuckled. "No no, he's adopted. All of my children are. I find them when they need a home and I give them one. And although what you just said was rather rude, I will forgive you this time. I am a very merciful man, after all."
"Ri-i-ight." Tony smacked his lips. "You got a name, Grape Face?"
"The Great Titan Thanos, last of my kind."
"Uh huh. And what's your son's name?"
Thanos grinned. It was an unnatural sight. His smile didn't look like how a smile should. It looked all... wrong. And not just because he had a nutsack for a chin.
"You must've met him recently. His name is Loki."
CRACK.
A bolt of lighting struck right next to where Thanos was standing. The ground smoked. The grass was dead. Thor's hammer was pointing at him, eyes bright with electricity.
"He is not your son."
Thanos's grin grew wider. "Why, of course he is. His own family is dead, and even his kidnappers who claimed to love him abandoned him. I saved him from the void, he belongs to me."
A shiver went down Clint's spine. That voice. He recognized it now. "You."
Thanos turned to him, amused. "Hello, Agent Barton."
"You're the one who was controlling everyone." Please don't let his hand start shaking. Clint gripped his bow tighter.
"I didn't control anyone. You still had free will."
"Bullshit."
"You could've left anytime," Thanos continued as though he hadn't said anything. "You could've walked away, but you didn't. I didn't control your actions, I merely guided your thoughts. If you didn't want to help me achieve my goal, you didn't have to."
"And what is your goal?" Natasha interrupted, and Clint had never been more grateful for her. Thanos's words reeled in his mind. Thanos was wrong- he knew he was wrong- but...
"Peace. I wish for peace." Thanos's smile grew wistful. "A universe with no more fighting, no more hunger."
"So you decided to commit mass genocide." Bruce was remarkably calm despite the situation.
"A small price to pay for peace."
Clint choked. "Murdering people is a small price to pay? I hate to see what you'd consider a big price."
"Enough. I grow tired of this childish banter." Thanos said, voice booming. He pulled out a double edged sword and pointed it at Clint. Nat moved in front of his defensively, pointing a gun at Thanos's head. "Tell me where my son and the scepter are and there will be no need for fighting. I will spare your lives."
"Fat chance." Clint snarled. Thanos sighed regretfully.
"Very well. So you have chosen death."
Multiple things happened at once. Thanos moved to attack, brandishing his sword. Thor raised his hammer and summoned lightning. Nat pulled the trigger on her gun. Clint released the bomb arrow and sent it flying. Bruce's veins began to turn green. Steve ran towards Thanos with his shield. Tony began to charge the repulsers on his suit.
And then all hell broke loose.
Loki clawed at his arms, gulping in desperate pants. "I c-can't- he'll- I need to- I need to leave before he finds me- I-"
Strange crouched down to be at eye level with him. "Listen to me, he can't find you here. There are countless spells protecting the Sanctum. The only way he can get in is if someone lets him in, and we're sure as hell not gonna do that. So let's calm down and think of a plan rationally."
The doctor's blunt words cut through the panic that was threatening to take over Loki. He exhaled shakily. Strange was right. Spiraling into fear would get him nowhere.
"He's-" Loki clenched his fists. "He's going to- going to go after the scepter. It contains the mind stone. He's been searching for all of the infinity stones. I don't- I don't believe he knows the whereabouts of the time stone yet."
Strange looked surprised. "The infinity stones? If he wants those, then..."
"He's planning something big, isn't he?" Wong finished grimly. Loki nodded.
"I don't know all the details. However..." He hesitated, biting the inside of his cheek. "Whatever it is involves a lot of people dying. That much is clear."
"Well then." Strange's eyes steeled and he straightened up, looking determined as he smirked at Loki. "We'll just have to get to the stones first, won't we?"
Me: I'll just write a short Kid!Loki AU fic, not super long, maybe about 3-4k words...
A little while later
Me: *at 12k words with at least 6k more planned, with an elaborate plot and an entire backstory for Loki, as well as a crossover with another one of my fics*
Me: Aha, oopsie daisy?
Anyways lmao, I've been working on this fic for a while. This is one of the longest things I've written, and I'm really excited for the ending! For once I actually have a story planned out lol.
Part two (the last part, unless I change my mind) should be out around Christmas? I don't have an exact deadline, but I'm hoping to finish this story before New Years.
Happy thanksgiving, if you celebrate it! If not, happy Thursday! It's genuinely a coincidence that I finished writing/editing this on thanksgiving lol.