Thorki - Lokitty [sfw]

[godofshawarma]

Fandom: MCU
Pairing: Thorki
Category: Short fic thing
Rating: PG
Warning: Lokitty
Summary: Loki botches a spell and is Lokitty for a while. Thor is amused.



It was a strange month in Asgard when one of Loki’s more experimental spells had backfired and he suddenly found himself finding an odd penchant for milk and fish. It wasn’t an immediate change, no, but Thor had started to notice... differences.

For instance, if ever he would leave his cape around, even for a moment while he left the room, when he returned, he’d find his brother bundled up in it - either on the couch, at the edge of a mattress, or completely on the floor, quietly dozing away. Most strange indeed. As the week progressed, he’d found Loki with an inclination to dig his nails into Thor’s arm or shoulder or hand anytime he did something annoying or wouldn’t leave him alone when he’d like him to. He would wander outside the palace, glance around, then wander immediately back in, only to repeat the process about ten minutes later.

Though all this he didn’t really think much of until about mid-week. Thor spent hours searching for Loki all over the palace, the library, the gardens, the kitchens, even going to ask Frigga and Odin if they’d seen him. Finally he marched out to Heimdall, who simply told him to go to his room. Which he hadn’t been told in about 900 years, and never by Heimdall. So, awkwardly, he shuffled away, returning to his room and flopped on his bed, letting his eyes shut in an attempt to nap. Only to hear metered breathing coming from somewhere below him. Flopping over quickly, Thor hung his head over the side of the bed, peering beneath it and there was the missing brother - curled up in a ball, taking a nap beneath his bed.

Something was definitely wrong.

Though when Thor attempted to confront him on it, he was adamantly dismissed.

“Are you feeling alright, brother?”

“Of course I’m feeling alright.”

“No strange inclinations?”

“Other than to toss you from the nearest balcony? No.”

“You’re certain?”

“I’m running short of ways to say ‘no, you blundering fool, no’.”

“...Are you growing whiskers?”

“Goodbye, Thor!” And he’d be left with a door slammed in his face.

But it wasn’t only that Loki’s temper would flare much more than usual - it seemed he had developed mood swings. Thor would be sitting on a bench somewhere in the palace, or on a couch, minding his own business, and Loki would appear out of nowhere, right next to him. At first he would just be sitting there. Then, scoot closer. Closer until his side was squished up against Thor’s, and a moment later, his head would incline to rub against Thor shoulder. The Thunderer could almost swear he’d heard purring. But the moment he reached out a hand to brush over his hair, Loki would pull back, quite possibly even claw at him, and wander away in a huff.

By the end of the week, Thor was waking up to a pile of Loki settled on his chest at 6am, pawing at his face as two... what could only be considered cat ears... twitched at his head, a tail wagging behind him. From then on, there were no more audible words spoken, really, not even mumbled half sentences like before, just... meowing and hissing and the occasional purr.

It was actually sort of amusing for a while, Thor assuming that it will just eventually wear off like most of Loki’s spells, and he has a decent amount of fun with it, especially considering Loki had seemed to take Thor as his caretaker or pet Asgardian during the time he spent as a feline. He followed him around everywhere, except for when Thor actually wished to find him, during which he could be any number of inconspicuous places - beneath furniture, on top of bookcases, behind couches, on window sills, beneath bed covers, or out in the garden attempting to eat grass (that was the strangest of them, really).

They could be found in the hallways of the palace, Thor behind a corner with Loki farther down the hall playing a sort of peekaboo game. Thor would stick his head out and Loki would freeze, head inclined forward and eyes wide, standing on his toes with body leaning forward. Then Thor would duck back behind the wall again and Loki would travel as much ground as he could towards that corner before Thor could pop his head back out - an unspoken rule that Loki must freeze. This would continue until Loki reached the corner and gave a leaping pounce at the man behind it, only to dash away a moment later and skitter behind a pillar.

Later in the day, Thor would go to shower - a sort of sliding door in the one attached to his room much like those on Midgard, and the two would spent a good twenty minutes worth of Thor peeking around the edge of it and Loki attempting to swat at his face before the elder brother spat water in his direction, causing poor Lokitty to reel back and hiss. Once the shower was over and Thor evacuated from it, Loki jumped into the unoccupied stall, rolling in the small puddles of water and swatting at what was still dripping from the faucet. All until Thor snuck a hand in to suddenly shoot the water back on, repeating the jumping and hissing process.

Anything Thor would attempt to busy himself with, Loki would come lie directly on top of it, stretched out on his back, and refuse to move until he had been given sufficient tummy rubs. Anytime Thor (and sometimes Frigga) would be stationary and sitting or lying for a short amount of time, Loki would find them and come plop himself on their laps. And at night, Loki would hop up on Thor’s bed the minute he was about the fall into deep slumber and curl up in the most awkward space possible, but regardless, Thor would reach down and scratch him behind the ears until the loud rumble of purring would fade and he’d know he was asleep.

It was all great fun for the first couple of weeks, but near on the third, Thor was beginning to worry that he hadn’t changed back. As much as they did get along better with Loki as a cat, Thor missed his old brother and didn’t want him damned to feline life for the rest of eternity. He began seeking out sorcerers in the kingdom, most laughing at him when he explained the situation, claiming Loki, master of mischief, had gotten what he well deserved. All until Thor flipped some tables and yelled some very specific things about imprisonment and lashings. Eventually he’d gotten a tonic from an old woman at the edges of the forest.

It was easy enough to slip it into the nightly milk and tuna he’d been giving Loki, and one last night Lokitty curled up against Thor’s chest, nuzzling his head against his arm and greedily taking up body warmth and Thor watched him for a long moment, planting a kiss on his dark hair, and fell asleep.

The next morning was met with screaming.

“I HAD A TAIL, THOR.”

“It was actually pretty cut--”

“A TAIL.”

For hours it went on, Loki demanding to know what had taken Thor three damned weeks to go fetch a cure for him and Thor beginning to regret that he’d ever done it. Lokitty had been much more preferable to this infuriated trickster swearing swift and terrible vengeance on him. Still, he couldn’t help the amused smile that pulled at his lips.

But later that night, Thor would decide it had been worth it. As the door to his room creaked open and he found a bundle of limbs scooting up next to him, curling up to his chest, now free of tail, ears and whiskers, Thor thought to himself, yes. It had definitely been worth it.