Loki X Reader One-Shots [SLOW UPDATES]

#51: Knives And Pens

Hello and happy new year :3

So, user Chrisyy_09 requested "another teen imagine, just some fluff and mischief" and then my bestie and I were talking about how obvious it is that Loki went through an emo phase (and how he's still into it, kinda, though he doesn't dress that way anymore), so this story is those two merged together.

The funny thing is that I used to underestimate Student!Loki Midgard AUs but now I love them.

Published on January 2023

...

Loki's feet pounded against the steps of the staircase as he headed down. Shooting a dismissive glance at his father, Odin, as he entered the kitchen, he took a mug from the cupboard and poured himself some warm milk from the pitcher sitting in the middle of the table before sinking down onto a chair.

"Ah, you came down, at last," he heard his mother, Frigga, say and looked over his shoulder to see her entering the room. He hummed in response, and his hand came to the sleeve of his dark black shirt. "Oh, don't you look beautiful today?"

Odin rolled his eyes and said nothing as his wife gushed at the sight of her son; it was quite clear that, in stark contrast to her, he didn't approve of Loki's emo style; the black clothes and nail polish were stupid, he said, the dark makeup too much, his long black hair an exaggeration, the snake bites piercings on Loki's lips and those on his ears and nose--the piercings Loki had talked to nobody about before having them done and had led to many fights between father and son--inappropriate.

Even though his father's attitude didn't do his mood much of a service, Loki couldn't but smile even so slightly at his mother's praise. Perhaps it was because her words were sincere, that she was happy with the way he looked, or perhaps it was because she loved him so much and felt for him the way he didn't feel for himself.

"Oh, don't drink your milk like that--pour it on some cereal," she said, pointing towards the cereal box on the table.

"I'm not really hungry." The nerves in his stomach were already protesting the milk he had already drunk, and he knew that if he so much as ate a single spoonful, he would become nauseous and eventually vomit.

At first glance, Loki seemed fine. At the second, third, hundredth glance, he still did. His face was blank, his gaze vacant, an expression of blind stillness, in which those who knew him best could find nothing but a vacuum where emotion should be, and one that didn't trouble anyone else in the slightest. None of his teachers or fellow schoolmates, at least.

He hated school; being around people that he didn't really have any connection with was just one way to isolate himself even more. He didn't try to get close to his peers--simply didn't bother. He had his good friends--Mobius and Sylvie, who were what made school endurable--and his solitary hobbies--drawing, reading, writing and listening to music--and he never reached out to anyone. It was a habit that he had cultivated from a young age, that the best way to protect his psyche from the cold and heartlessness of the world was to keep himself apart from others. He had to face their unwanted judgement and cruelty anyway, so he could, at least, not attach himself to them and make it all worse.

Frigga shook her head. "Someone your age must eat healthy and nutritional meals, not starve themselves."

Loki rolled his eyes; she didn't understand how he felt. Nobody did. Some tried, others pretended to, but they never really understood, and it made him feel even more isolated than he already was.

"I'm not starving myself, mother." He let his hand drag through his hair, growing exasperated. "I just don't like breakfast."

He tugged a strand behind his ear, and then he kept his hands in his hair, his long curls twisting around his fingers. Frigga's lips parted, but before she could say anything, Odin spoke, looking at Loki disapprovingly.