Loki POV:
Loki was back on Midgard again. He didn't really know why, but for some reason, he enjoyed visiting this ridiculous little realm every few decades. The last time he'd been here was about forty years ago — when he lost a bet with Thor, stole some Midgardian money, and, naturally, jumped out of a plane.
…Of course, Heimdall brought him back immediately afterward. Because, apparently, if you can't fly and you don't know how to use one of those strange Midgardian "parachutes," things tend to end badly.
But now? Out of everywhere on Midgard, Heimdall had chosen to send him here…
An icy continent. Nothing but endless white as far as his eyes could see. Frozen wastelands. Not even a proper palace in sight. Loki sighed, rubbing his temples.
"Heimdall!" he shouted into the air.
Silence.
"Heimdall!" he yelled louder this time.
…Nothing.
"Come on, Heimdall! I said I was sorry about that one time. Or the other time. Or the time before that." He waved his arms in frustration. "It was a mistake! I didn't mean to do it! So bring me back!"
Still nothing.
Loki clenched his fists, tilting his head back toward the sky. "Heimdall! I am getting very, very annoyed now!"
…Silence.
"Fine! Be like that, then!" Loki snapped, crossing his arms with an indignant huff. "I don't need you anyway!"
He turned sharply and started walking, muttering curses under his breath as he stomped across the frozen ground.
Five minutes later
"Heimdall," Loki mumbled softly. "…I'm sorry." Then, louder: "Bring me back!"
Nothing but wind.
Loki groaned and shoved his hands into his coat, sulking like a child denied candy. There was nothing around him but endless white, stretching into forever —
Wait.
Something yellow.
Far away.
"…What?" Loki blinked, squinting at the tiny dot of color breaking through the monotony of snow. Without thinking, he started running toward it.
"Luck," he murmured smugly to himself, "is always on my side when I need it."
When he reached the spot, he skidded to a stop. Staring back up at him was… a small, round, yellow creature. It had a weird little face, big goggles, and a tilted head — studying him like he was the strange animal here.
Loki straightened his back, smirked, and spread his arms wide.
"Well, well, creature! Congratulations. You have the rare honor of serving none other than Loki — Prince of Asgard, rightful heir to the throne… and the God of Mischief!"
He leaned down slightly, lowering his voice for dramatic effect. "Now, kneel before your king. That means bend the knee. Surely you understand that concept. You seem intelligent enough."
The small yellow thing blinked. "…Below," it said quietly.
"What?" Loki tilted his head.
The creature looked up at Loki's horns, then whispered hesitantly: "…Banana?"
Loki frowned. "…What?"
Suddenly, the creature's eyes went wide, and it screamed at the top of its lungs:
"BANANA!!!"
Before Loki could react, more yellow things popped out from behind the ice mounds.
"Libo sab! Banana caba!" one of them shouted in some bizarre gibberish—though, thanks to the Allspeak, Loki understood it perfectly.
"What was that supposed to mean?" Loki snapped, glaring down at them.
Then he noticed several of them pointing at his head.
"These," he said, gesturing dramatically to his horns, "are not bananas! These are the horns of royalty, you gibbering little demons!"
"BANANA!!!" one of them yelled back defiantly.
Another one joined in. Then another. Soon, they were all chanting together.
"Banana! Banana! Banana!"
Loki's eyes widened in horror as more and more of them came crawling out of a nearby cave, swarming toward him like a tiny, yellow army of chaos.
"You dare mock Loki of Asgard?!" he roared, summoning his magic. "I can unmake your pitiful existence with a thought! I am a god!"
And then a minion jumped straight onto his face.
Loki staggered back, shouting muffled curses as the little monster tried to use his mouth as a step to climb up and grab his horns.
"GET. OFF. OF. ME!" he bellowed, thrashing wildly — but it was already too late.
They were piling onto him. Dozens. Maybe hundreds. Bouncing, grabbing, screeching — a literal mountain of tiny yellow chaos.
"ENOUGH!" Loki shouted, teleporting himself ten feet backward in a flash of green light.
For about two glorious seconds, he thought he was free…
Then he turned his head — and they were already there.
"HOW?!" Loki yelled.
"BANANA!!!"
He tried illusions. They ran straight through them. He tried invisibility. Didn't matter — there were so many of them, he physically bumped into more the second he moved, and they latched onto him instantly.
Loki screamed, an unholy mix of rage and panic.
"BANANA!" the horde screamed back.
Meanwhile, inside the nearby cave, Steve Rogers sat calmly on his ice throne, blissfully unaware that Loki of Asgard was currently being devoured alive by an army of yellow gremlins outside.
He assumed the minions were just "playing."
And since Loki, being a frost giant, gave off no heat… Steve couldn't sense him at all.
Nick Fury POV:
"Right," Nick starts off, leaning forward, his voice low and sharp. "Nobody else is listening. Just you and me. Talk. Now."
He's dead serious.
Clint hesitates, rubbing a hand over his face before finally speaking. "On the train… a door just appeared outta nowhere. I went to investigate. When I stepped through, it felt like—" he pauses, searching for the words, "—like I wasn't even in control of my own body anymore. My hand just… reached for this ring."
He lifts his right hand, showing it. Sure enough, a deep-purple ring glints faintly under the light.
Nick leans back slightly, narrowing his eyes. "...And I'm guessing that thing didn't exactly come gift-wrapped?"
Clint shakes his head. "Nah. The damn thing flew straight onto me. Like it knew where it belonged." He exhales sharply. "Then I felt it. Power. Just—" he gestures helplessly, "—infinite power, Fury. That's the only way I can describe it."
Nick studies him for a moment, jaw tight. "And I take it that thing doesn't slide off easy?"
Clint snorts, tugging at it uselessly. "Won't budge. Believe me, I've tried."
Nick mutters under his breath, voice low but venomous. "Motherfucker." He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "This world just keeps getting more and more complicated."
After a beat, he focuses on Clint. "Alright. Question is—can you control it?"
Clint closes his eyes, draws a slow breath, and raises his hand. The ring starts to glow faintly. Purple energy gathers in the air, condensing, swirling… until it shapes itself into a translucent bow humming with power. Clint smirks faintly, almost proud.
"Seems like it," he says, pulling back on an invisible string. An arrow of pure light snaps into existence, sharp and crackling with energy.
Nick leans back in his chair, eyebrows raised despite himself. "…Well, I'll be damned."
Clint lets the energy dissipate, lowering his hand. He winces slightly, shaking it out like the power's buzzing uncomfortably under his skin. Nick notices but doesn't comment on it—at least, not yet.
"What's it running on?" Fury finally asks, leaning back, studying him.
Clint shrugs, still flexing his hand. "I don't know. I just… will it to happen, and it does."
Nick exhales slowly, sitting back in his chair. "Well," he says finally, voice flat, "that's either a gift… or a curse."
Clint smirks faintly. "Yeah. My money's on both."
A heavy silence settles between them.
Loki POV:
It's been hours. Hours have passed.
The little yellow demons have finally left, but the state they left Loki in… is not ideal. His armor? Practically destroyed. His fine green coat? Ripped to shreds. His glorious helmet? Stolen.
Today… is not Loki's day.
First, Heimdall doesn't open the Bifrost and bring him back to Asgard. And now? Now he's here — lying flat on his back in the snow, staring at the sky, contemplating the sheer injustice of his existence.
At least he isn't cold. Perks of superior Asgardian physiology. But depressed? Oh, very much so. Being beaten — beaten — by little yellow creatures that don't even reach above his knees? That is beyond humiliating.
Loki sighs dramatically and turns onto his side, wincing in pain as he tries to sit up. Those foul little gremlins did not hold back.
"Never again," he mutters, voice hoarse but firm. "Never again will I ever be bested by these yellow imbeciles with the intelligence of a potato. I swear vengeance upon the banana fields of Midgard."
His voice grows louder, more theatrical, his hand raised to the heavens.
"They shall all kneel before me!"
…Yes. That was it. Bananas. They were the cause of all this. Those disgusting little demons seemed obsessed with the fruit. They attacked him over something that looked like a banana.
"Very well," Loki says, eyes narrowing. "If bananas are their power source, then no bananas shall remain on this miserable little planet by the time I'm done here!"
And then… he laughs. A long, maniacal, triumphant laugh that echoes across the ice.
"HAHAHAHA—ow." He clutches his ribs instantly. "Oh, that… yes, that hurts. No laughing. Laughing is… off the table."
His stomach growls. Loudly. He glances around, annoyed, before spotting something strange in the snow — a small, crystalline fruit unlike anything he's seen on Asgard or Midgard.
It looks like… ice.
An ordinary mortal might think it was just an ice cube. But Loki is not an ordinary mortal. He is Loki Odinson — god of mischief, superior intellect, unrivaled perception. He knows instantly that this… this is no ordinary ice.
He picks it up, studies it for a second, then shrugs and pops it into his mouth. Slowly chewing, he swallows.
At first, his brain… doesn't process the taste. Then, it does.
"BY ODIN'S BEARD—WHAT IN THE NINE HELLS—" Loki gags violently, falling to his knees. He clutches his stomach as his entire body locks up. The taste is beyond mortal comprehension. The foul, cursed thing is an abomination against all culinary decency.
But then… something happens.
He freezes mid-scream, staring at his hand — which is now slowly turning to ice. He can feel it coursing through him, spreading under his skin, filling his veins with cold, shimmering power.
"Oh…" Loki whispers, his lips curling into a grin. "Oh, yes… this is no ordinary fruit."
He raises his hand and watches frost crawl up his fingers. A wave of power rushes through him, intoxicating and endless.
"Yes… YES!" His laughter returns, wilder this time, unrestrained. "This fruit was meant for the gods! The universe itself bends to me!"
He gets to his feet, stumbling slightly but refusing to show weakness, drunk on his newfound strength. His grin widens, manic and unstoppable.
"Yes… yes! I'll have my revenge on those vile yellow demons. Then, I'll return to Asgard and personally beat Heimdall for daring to leave me stranded here!"
He throws his arms wide, pacing like a deranged king.
"Then I'll defeat Thor, claim the title of crown prince, and when Odin dares to object, I shall beat him too and become king instantly!"
He throws his head back and screams into the icy sky:
"LOKI… GOD OF EVERYTHING!"
…
Somewhere in Asgard, Heimdall watches all of this unfold through the Bifrost, leaning on his sword with a tired sigh.
He shakes his head slowly. "Mmm. No. That's the Allfather's problem, not mine."
He pauses, lips pressing into a thin line, then adds flatly:
"I am not getting involved in the Allfather's family affairs. It's far too… chaotic."
Heimdall blinks once, then deliberately looks away.
++++++++
Author Note -
Pretty proud I made it to Chapter 10 — didn't think I'd get past 5, so that's a win. Gonna start upping the crack a bit each chapter since that was the whole point anyway, do whatever I want and mess up the Marvel plot. Loki's getting the Ice-Ice Fruit, planning to build a kingdom in Antarctica, and probably will go to war with the Minions. Also thinking of making Gaia connect to Asgard and become its conscience.
Oh, and someone pointed out Steve landed in the Arctic, but I've been writing Antarctica… so yeah, canon now: he somehow sleep flew there but still thinks he's in the Arctic.