Chapter Text
Okay, normally, I not to swear. It's vulgar, and there are a bunch of better insults then calling someone a bitch.
But sometimes, when shit goes down, you just need to say fuck.
So that's what I did when I got punched in the face.
I held my bleeding nose is one hand and pointed at the woman who punched me- she looks familiar, but I can’t remember her name.
I growled through clenched teeth, yelling at the woman. "Fuck you, you mother-fucking fucker of Fuck-Land!" I caught the red droplets with my hand, with some threatening to spill over.
The woman looked around at everyone, seeming to get back into consciousness. Her arms lowered, as they were prepped to punch me again. She raised an eyebrow and pointed at me. "Are we sure this is Loki?"
My anger boiled over. First, she punches me, but then she doesn't even have the courtesy to know who she is hitting? Unbelievable!
I snarled as best I could with a broken nose. "Yes, I'm fucking Loki, and you just fucking punched me in the fucking face and now my fucking blood is all over my fucking favourite shirt!"
I could tell that there was blood all over me, real blood and not just some fake paint. I would have moved somewhere to get something to clean everything up, but I didn't want the mortal to get startled by any sudden movements and punch me again.
I continued with my yelling though "Do you know how fucking hard it is to get fucking blood out of a fucking green shirt? Do you fucking know?" My voice got angrier and louder each time I said 'Fuck'.
She took a step forward, getting in a fighting stance again. "Yeah, I kn-" she started to yell.
Stark stepped between us, diffusing any fight before it started. "Okay! Okay! Everyone calm down. Maria, don't punch Loki again, I just got these floors redone and I don't want any blood to stain them."
I looked down, thankfully, no blood seemed to have reached the colourful carpet, landing instead on my clothing and boots.
'Of course, wouldn't want to get his floors dirty, now do you?' Irritasjon snarked unhelpfully.
I still felt a pang in my heart at these words though and muttered a 'sorry' to the ground beneath my feet.
"-And Loki-" Stark said to me.
I looked up, wondering what kind of insult he would call me.
The billionaire sighed. "Can I get some wet wipes to clean you up? Your entire face is covered in blood and its unnerving to look at."
I raised an eyebrow. "Are they poisoned?"
Stark narrowed his eyes at me. "Poisoned... wet wipes." He said each word slowly, as if I didn't know what I said. "You're not a very trusting person, are you Reindeer Games?"
"That's how people get stabbed in the back." I replied, holding my (now red) hand under my chin.
The playboy was barely listening to me as he walked to a counter by the kitchen (This is a different kitchen from earlier- how big is this tower?) He walked back holding a small blue packet.
He gave it to me. "Here, use these."
I looked down at the object in my hand. How though?
I didn't want to seem ungrateful though, so I bowed my head slightly. "Thanks, I guess."
Stark smirked down at me. "You have no idea how to use those, do you?"
I was caught red-handed- quite literally. I saw no way that lying could help me. I sighed heavily. "Not a clue."
He chuckled. "Good luck with that." he turned his back to walk to the rest of everyone, who had moved to the centre of the room, leaning against sofas.
(Quick headcount. There was me, Rogers, Stark, Pa-Peter, and this new woman 'Maria')
Peter gasped. "Mr. Stark! Don’t be so mean! Here, Mr. Loki, let me help you."
He walked towards me, taking the blue pack out of my hand. He opened a large white tab on one of the sides and pulled out a square white paper-thing. He held it close to my face before stopping.
"Um, do you want me to-?" He started.
"Thank you." I interrupted him, taking the wipe out of his hands and rubbing my face with it.
After a while, I stopped, not feeling any more blood on my face. "All good?"
Peter nodded. "Yep, you are free of blood on your face! The rest of you, not so much." He pointed to my soaking green (red now) shirt, and the blood on my hands.
Actual blood this time though, not just metaphorical.
He gave me another wipe, and I used it to clean my hand and dab at the shirt. Which didn't do much. I might have to burn this shirt. Boo.
“Ya’know, hydrogen peroxide cleans out blood pretty well.” Peter said, studying my shirt.
“Huh.” I replied. “How would you know about that?”
Peter slightly tensed. “Clothes get stained with blood from fights. Learned preset quickl how to clean it up.”
I knew he was lying, but everyone’s lying for a reason. His reasons are none of my business.
'Maria' stepped forward, causing me to lean back.
Ever heard of personal space? I shot to her in my mind.
She raised an eyebrow and looked over her shoulder to Rogers. "Does Loki look different to you? Younger?"
The captain sighed. "Yeah, funny thing about that, turns out Asgardians age the same way as us, just slower, so apparently, Loki is the equivalent of 16."
'Maria's eyes widened. She looked back and forth between me and the soldier.
"16? Please tell me your joking. There is no way he is that young." She asked Rogers.
I smiled; the crazy one I had when I caused mischief. "As much as I would love to lie to you-" I said, lengthening the 'love'. "-you mortals seem to hate when I do that. So yes. To answer your question, I am, in fact, 16." I narrowed my eyes, all humour gone in my voice. "Though I would like you to know I am a millennium older than you, so that gives you no right to treat me like a child."
"Who's treating you like a child? And can I join?" A familiar voice came from behind me.
I turned to face Barton, Romanoff standing close next to him. I growled. "No, you cannot."
Romanoff raised an eyebrow at me. Assumedly, it’s because the front of my shirt was soaked with my own blood.
"Did you did get shot again?" She asked, stepping past me, moving to lean against a sofa. She kept her eyes on me, showing her obvious mistrust of me.
Good, at least one of them has brain cells.
"No, actually." I responded, wiping some blood trickling out of my nose. "I got punched in the face. Good punch by the way; your wrist wasn't floppy like most peoples are. You also had the element of surprise which is useful for fighting enemies. Good job." I spoke to the agent responsible for making me bleed in the first place.
She cocked her head confused. "Thanks? I'm not sure that praise from you is good praise though."
I shrugged. "Eh. Don't care. Take it or leave it."
I heard heavy footsteps from behind me. Very familiar footsteps.
"Hello friends!" Thor's voice boomed. "And brother! You're here too!"
I knew what he was going to do next, so I acted before he was about to hug me. I shrunk down before his arms contacted him body, growing back to my normal size behind him.
I then brought out my only knife left- the one from the robot- and held it against his throat from behind. I did have to reach up a little bit because he is taller than me.
"If you try to hug me again-" I snarled in his ear. "-I will slit your throat and make it look like an accident."
I could practically hear Thor's smile from where I was. "Nice to see you too Loki."
I was about to retort with a witty comeback, but I felt someone’s arms wrapping underneath my arm pits and pulling me off Thor's back.
"Yeah no, enough of that." Banner said, setting me down on the ground. "We aren't going to be killing anyone Loki."
I was going to say something like 'Damn it' but I was too focused on the fact that he picked me up like that.
"Did you- did you just pick me up like I was a skogkatt?" I asked, completely dumbfounded that he did that.
Banner sighed, putting his hand to his temple. "I have no idea what that is. Is it a cat like thing? It sounds like a cat like thing."
"It is." Thor answered. "About everyone has one. It’s a very popular wedding gift."
Romanoff spoke up, raising an eyebrow. "You guys give each other cats at your wedding? Why?"
"I mean, they're used as mousers, so I think that could be it." I replied, shrugging my shoulders.
"I think it's actually because of Freyja." Thor said. "You know, because she was the goddess of fertility and had a chariot pulled by skogkattr."
I cocked my head. "So, what, it’s like, 'here, have a cat. Hope you get pregnant?'"
Thor scratched the back of his head. "I mean, in nicer words, but yeah, I think that’s about right."
"Sorry, wait, hold up." Barton said, butting into the conversation. "Did you just say that there's a lady who has a chariot pulled by cats? Like, actual no kidding cats?"
“Yes, that is what I said friend Barton. Freyja, rest her soul, took pride in her Skogkatten Vogn.” Thor replied.
Barton openly laughed, which I took great offense to. “What’s so funny Bird Brain?”
Barton smirked at me from where he was standing, next to Romanoff. “I mean; I guess it’s cute, tiny kittens trying to pull a big chariot.”
I pulled out a Hermoder, a communication device made by the God Hermod. “Barton, I am going to show you a video I took outside my house and let’s see if you think skogkatt are so cute then.”
“When did you get that back?” Thor asked.
I opened it up, navigating through the device. “A minute or two ago, I lifted it off of you when I threatened to slit your throat.”
Thor sighed disappointed. “Loki. We have talked about not pickpocketing people.”
“No, you have talked about not pickpocketing people.” I snapped back. “I was too busy breaking into the Palace Armoury to pay attention.”
Stark spoke for the first time in a while. “You were doing what?”
“Breaking into the Palace Armoury.” I repeated. I snapped my fingers. “Come on Stark, keep up.” I paused, selecting the video I wanted. “I also broke into your lab. You have really shitty security measures BTDubs.”
I took out a small machine that I stole earlier from my pocket dimension. “Stole this in like 25 seconds.” I tossed it over to Stark.
He caught it, looking flabbergasted, pissed off, and intrigued. “Loki what the fu-?”
I quickly interrupted him, holding out my Hermoder in front of everyone. “Are we going to watch the video or what? I’ve still got some guys to prove wrong.”
Stark put the machine down on a table, before nodded at me to continue.
I wordlessly hit play, sending the video up in the air as a giant hologram.
Two creatures were in a standoff in my backyard.
A bjorn had wandered into the grass from the forest and was creeping closer until a stray skogkatt had intercepted it.
It was hissing and growling at the bjorn, swatting at the air. The bjorn was doing nothing, walking back and forth at the forest edge, trying to find a break in the skogkatt’s defence.
You could hear my voice from the recording. “Sigyn. Sigyn. Come here. You got to see this.”
Another voice joined me. “What is it- Oh norns. Are they going to-?”
Their question got answered as the skogkatt lunged at the bjorn’s face, clawing at the eyes.
For size comparison, this is like a dandelion trying to fight a hedge.
The bjorn roared and threw the small animal off, where it landed off to the side.
The cat wasn’t going down that easily though. It hissed at the much bigger creature and attacked again, this time running under the bjorn and scratching at the belly.
After a full minute of fighting- the cat getting deep cuts in before running back where the bear couldn’t get her, and the bear trying to stomp on the small animal- the bear finally lost enough blood.
We saw the large beast collapse on screen, as their breaths slowly faded into nothingness.
The skogkatt then climbed on top of their fallen prey. They looked right into the camera, letting out a loud grumble before it started to eat. The. Bear.
This is where I stopped the video since all the mortals had horrified faces.
Well, all is stretching it. Stark and Rogers definitely looked horrified. Their eyes were wide and their mouths agape. Romanoff looked more on the concerned side, arms crossed and head tilted. Barton blinked rapidly, as if his eyes weren’t working. (like his ears) Thor, of course, was laughing at the video. I wouldn’t have expected anything else from him. Banner was looking at him like he had lost his mind. I don’t blame him. Seeing a cat straight up win against a bear and start eating it and then have one of your friends laugh at ‘the cute cat’ does sound like the friend lost his mind.
Peter was the one that surprised me the most. He looked fascinated, watching the skogkatt’s every move. He seemed almost disappointed when I put the Hermoder in my pocket.
It was quiet… for about two more seconds.
“You guys have that in your house?” Banner exploded, eyes wide towards Thor. “And it’s a wedding present? What does it do to the married couple? To the kids?”
“Sit on their laps and purr mostly.” I replied, even though the question wasn’t directed towards me.
Stark blinked slowly. “What? That killing machine. Is a lap cat?” He threw his hands up “That seems physically impossible.”
“Well,” Thor said, “It is about 7500 pounds of pure muscle, so it does make your legs go to sleep after a while, but the fur is very soft, so it balances out.”
I heard Stark choke. “Seven thou- 7500 pounds?! How big is this cat?”
“Everything in Asgard is heavier for absolutely no reason. That’s only like-” I did quick mental calculations in my head. “-25 pounds in your standards.”
Rogers butt in. “A 25-pound cat is still heavy. The average cat weighs like ten.”
I shrugged. “Does it look like we care how heavy our cats are?”
“How big is the cat though?” Peters voice asked. “In the video, it looked bigger than our cats, but I’m not sure if that was the camera adding ten pounds to everything.”
“Oh, yeah, its like-“ I paused. There was a much easier way to do this. I held up a finger. “-one sec please.”
I opened my seidr, feeling the magic in my veins before I shifted.
I saw my vision move down as I shrunk, my skeleton changing as I grew fur.
Cat-Me sat on my hind legs, trying to gesture to the average size of a skogkatt. ‘Trying’ being the key word here. The front legs are not made like my regular ones, so it looked more like I was trying to lift my paws up and then put them down again.
Peter- who was standing next to me- looked down at my cat form, and then did something crazy. He freaking looped his hands under my armpits and picked. Me. Up.
I shifted back into my regular form, looking at him like he just dared to pick up a homicidal manic. Which, oh, he did. I tried to look as threatening as I could, but my feet were not touching the ground, so I am not sure how well I accomplished that.
“Did you- Did you just-“ I was too stunned to speak. “Kid, you are aware I can kill you with a look, right?”
Peter smiled, which almost made me not want to kill him. Almost. “’Hey, not my fault you looked pick up-able.”
I looked at Thor for help, which was a mistake. “You’re hearing this guy, right?”
Thor shrugged. “Well, you did look pick up-able, so I don’t blame him.”
You can’t be fucking serious. First, it’s Banner, and now it’s Peter. What is it? Pick Up Loki Like a Cat Day?
“Well-“ I started to ask. “-Could you put me down now?”
Peter lowered me onto the floor, letting go of me so I could stand up by myself.
I brushed nonexistent dust off my sleeves. “Thank you Peter.”
He smiled brightly. (Has he ever stopped smiling?) “No problem!”
I thought that was the end of the conversation, but I was wrong.
“What’s the cat’s name?” The spider-boy asked.
I was caught off guard by this question. “What now?”
He cleared his throat and repeated the question. “Your cat. From the video. What’s his-her- their name?”
I waved my hands. “Oh, they aren’t my cat. A stray from the woods. Trained cats are much more vicious.”
He seemed disappointed. “Oh. So, they don’t have a name?”
“I never said that.”
He clasped his hands behind his back, silently asking for me to continue.
I sighed. “I wanted to call the cat Armund, but Sigyn won the coin toss with Enøyd, or ‘One-eyed,’ since they lost an eye against a fight with a bilge-snipe. They won the fight though.”
Stark leaned forward arms crossed. “Who’s Sigyn?”
I looked over at Romanoff. “You didn’t tell them?”
She shrugged. “We were busy, forgot. I’ll tell them now though.” She looked over at the Avengers. “Sigyn is Loki’s…. What is it? Boyfriend, girlfriend? I’m not entirely sure on the whole Asgardian gender structure.”
I shrugged. “We just call everyone kjæreste, which translates into something like ‘dearest’ or ‘beloved’. Which reminds me, I need to contact them to make sure that they know I’m not dead. Continue the conversation without me.”
I backed up, leaning against the wall. I took my Hermoder out and opened their contact.
heyyy. so, not ded. currently on Mdgd, tried t commit gncid, didnt. nw a prsnor w/ sm gys clld the avengers. jst wntd t lt u no. ill probs try t escape ltr. cuqt -Lo
The message was technically finished, but I didn’t want to talk to anyone, especially any of these people.
I added vowels to my text, making it easier for Sigyn to understand. As I did so, I listened to the conversation happening.
The agent, ‘Maria’ sighed. “See, this is why I came down, to get reports on things. Like Loki is a teen with a... what was it-? Car-I-set? And that they have cats who fight bears. And… whatever. Nat, just give me the folder of information on Loki’s interrogation.”
I saw Romanoff hand over the tan folder with her notes, and Maria stormed out.
I waved goodbye, not looking up. “Nice meeting you!” I sent the finished text, which looked something like this:
Hey Sigyn. So, apparently, I’m not dead. Currently on Midgard, prisoner with some guys called the Avengers. I tried to commit genocide, and they didn’t really like that. I just wanted to let you know that I’m still alive. I’ll probably try to escape later. Not to confident though after two failed attempts. -Loki
Maria didn’t reply to my farewell, her footsteps fading into the distance.
When she was completely gone, eyes turned on me.
“There’s no way it take you that long to text-“ Thor began.
The Thunderer was cut off by a bright light from outside the darkened city. The light disappeared, and standing on the balcony was a dark-skinned, red-haired person...
...holding three kids.