#loki snippets

August Snippets Masterlist

The team came to take Loki in because he hasn't been as good as he had promised. He's been causing a bit of chaos recently and you had been sent to bring him in, but you haven't come back yet so the team can only think of the worst-case scenario being that Loki's taken you hostage.

They walk into the safe house that had been extended to Loki when he promised to hold the peace, looking around and finding what they were kind of expecting. It looks like he had company for the night, which they know would be you. But there doesn't seem to be signs of a struggle. So where the hell are you?

Hearing footsteps coming towards them, they all turn around thinking that it's Loki coming. They all stand in one line, 6 across the kitchen, ready for any fight that Loki might put up.

But when they see you walking in wearing nothing but one of Loki's shirts, they realize why you didn't come back. And it wasn't because you were being held hostage.

Your smile fades when you see the team, your heart skipping a beat as you realize what you're wearing. "I can explain," you start, holding up your hands in defeat when you see their expressions turning into anger.

Because you're the newest member of the team, they all treat you like a daughter. And sometimes they can be like overbearing parents. Especially now that you've spent the night with Loki who you're sure they still see as the enemy. You've learned otherwise over the night.

"Well, I'm sure it would be a thrilling story," Clint says, shifting on his feet as his hold on his bow tightens.

Before you can start, Loki walks into the room and you close your eyes in dread because you know what's about to happen.

Loki chuckles under the threatening gaze of the team. "Surely we can come to some kind of understanding," he says with a smile, looking to you and just quickly admiring the fact that you're wearing his shirt.

"I'm going to kill him." It's all that Tony says before he rushes forward.

It becomes crazy with the team chasing after Loki who in turn tries to get away from them and you're running after them to try and stop them.

This noise is definitely going to disturb the neighbors if the noise last night didn't.

It was years. Three years, eight months, and twelve hours, to be exact, since Loki fell from the Bifrost. Some had not stopped counting; others had.

Loki had ceased to even know what time was. It was something he vaguely remembered as being constant, flowing, and inescapable. It had once been a concept involving hours, days, and months, but it had become a fluid idea; it had turned into years and years and y e a r s....

There was no time. Only darkness. Only pain. There once had been guilt. Guilt, despair, terror - so strong he had wept -, but he had forgotten. He had once been so afraid that he had begged. He had once been so alone that he cried names until his voice was too raw to use. He had once known regret to the point that he wished to die instead of live to admit he had told them.

Or maybe an energy drink like Red Bull. He’s tasting colors and seeing sounds, kinda like a cat with catnip 😝

August Snippets Masterlist

You walk into your apartment, a grocery bag full of unhealthy things like sweets, chocolates, and a couple of energy drinks. You're not sure if Loki will eat these things but you didn't but them with him in mind. Now that you think about it, you'll most likely hide this from him so that you don't have to share at all.

When you walk into the kitchen, you see discarded can of Red Bull on the counter. But you know for a fact that you didn't finish this can. Hell, you didn't even open it. Placing the bag on the counter, you go to the fridge, curious to see something.

"Loki!" you call out when you see exactly what you expected. The two Red Bull energy drinks you had left in your fridge this morning are now gone.

But he doesn't respond.

Walking into the living room, you see Loki laying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling with his hand in the air tracing imaginary shapes, and with the other can of Red Bull in his other hand. "Loki," you call with a stern voice, folding your arms over your chest as he turns his head to look at you. "You drank my last two Red Bulls."

"I was thirsty and it was the only available beverage," he states, an ecstatic smile growing on his face as he looks back up at the ceiling.

"There is a tap. And if you turn it on, water comes out of it." He doesn't respond to that. He just continues to stare into the air, smiling at something you clearly cannot see. "Loki," you call, starting to get irritated with him now.

"I've seen you drinking this stuff before and never knew why. But now I see why you do," he says, making you frown. "Does it always make see the sounds around you? Or is it different for everyone?"

See sounds? You're so confused as to what he's talking about. But as you come to the realization that this is his first time drinking an energy drink and him being a God, he must have different reactions to certain things than humans do, your face falls. "Oh, dear lord, I shouldn't have brought more," you whisper to yourself, thinking about what it could possibly do to Loki if he has more and more. It would probably make you bankrupt if he becomes addicted to the stuff.

Hearing your words, Loki shoots up from his lying position and looks at you with glee in his eyes. "There is more?" he asks like an excited kid, jumping to his feet and rushing past you and into the kitchen.

It takes you a couple of seconds to rush after him, shouting at him to stop when you hear him scratching through the bag because you're sure that you don't want to find out how he's going to react to sweets and chocolates.

And he sure as hell isn't going to eat everything that you had brought for yourself.

Loki was out of practice when it came to sincerity. Laura exuded it, and his first instinct was to disavow it as a lie.

Loki is not his brother. He does not place any inherent worth on alcohol outside of its tendency to make normally semi-intelligent beings into inebriated fools. But his culture raised him with drink, and he adapted it to his own less churlish tastes and took a distinct liking to wine. Sweet, smooth wines in particular; ones that went down easy and could take the edge off hyper-vigilant nerves.

Dear brother,