A/N: Hello there! I'll make this quick and short to the point. This fic takes place right after Thor(the after credits scene will be pushed somewhere into here) and will eventually go into the Avengers. Obviously The Doctor will join in.
Amy and Rory Pond will not be in this fic. Maybe mentioned, but that's about it. I just want the two mains to be Doctor and Loki (: This is a small prologue.

Edit: I wanted to add something in that I saw regarding to Loki's feelings on Tumblr.

Disclaimer: I don't own a thing.

'' Doctor'd ! ''


The universe is calm, and silent. Everything is moving, yet all is still. The black of Space contrasts with the colors of the planets and the stars, reminding you of a disco ball in a dark club.
Yet there is something amiss. A dark speck, but not as dark as its surroundings. Could it be a spaceship? Or perhaps a comet?
No, it was far too small, or maybe it was too far. Lets zoom in a little bit shall we?
Ah, that is a clear image indeed. Can you guess who it is? I rest assure you it is not an alien. Sort of. The shape is humanoid; tall and lean. You can sort of make out black hair, but you can't really see it. The person might as well could be bald. The person is definitely wearing clothing —no, armor.
Is that a dark shade of green? Emerald? Well I think it's pretty obvious by now since we're staring at him directly in the face.
You're correct if you guessed Loki, God of Mischief.

Well at this point, God of My-Father-Never-Approves-Of-Me.

His eyes are open, all-seeing yet blind of what is in front of him. He stares at nothing, and he stares at everything. He seems to be waiting. Waiting for what? Only he knows, till he decides to yell his plans right at his enemies.
He is motionless, and pale. One would think of him as dead had it not been for the rise and fall of his chest. Yet what was he breathing in when there is no oxygen? He's probably breathing in the disappointment.

Okay, sorry, no more father issue jokes.


(Well maybe just a little bit more.)

His pale skin occasionally flickers to a shade of blue, showing his true heritage. The one he oh-so despised like an OCD patient to a dirty room.
Oh, he is definitely angry. His fists clench, missing the warmth of his beloved scepter. On his head, he is no longer wearing his helmet either. Had he thrown it into the nothingness yet completely filled universe around him? He'd get a new one later, eventually.

Everything is eerily silent, like the crowd of Ancient Rome waiting for their Emperor to deliver a speech. Loki believed himself to be that Emperor. Being king is a divine right and it is only for him. He is the perfect king, emperor, dictator, the list goes on and on. Yet at this very moment, the only thing he seems to rule right now is the weight of his shame. The shame he can never rid until all that is rightfully his are in his hands. His powerful, magical hands.

"I've done everything for him."

Ah, he speaks but barely moves his lips.

"I saved his life, and this is how he repays me?" His eyes flicker with grief and he immediately pushes the feeling away. He replaces the shame with anger. Bittersweet anger.

The feelings of betrayal gush out of Loki like it is his own personal waterfall.

"I deserve to be king. Not that bumbling golden boy." He hisses with the power of a snake and his eyes flash red.

"I am smarter, faster, and more powerful. All he does is create thunder and swing a heavy weighted hammer." The God of Mischief winces, recalling the time back at Jotunheim.

"He doesn't even deserve Mjolnir. He doesn't even know how to properly use it." His voice filled with obvious disgust. Loki wouldn't even say his name.

Though his voice speaks out loud enough for an army of ten thousand to hear, nothing in the universe stops to listen. That only ends up angering him even more.

Loki growled and ran a hand through his slightly greasy hair. His green eyes dart left and right, searching for something that was not there.

"My scepter." His voice is low, displaying grief. His beautiful weapon, taken —no, stolen. No pathetic being of the Nine Realms could wield it but him; a God.

"I will show the Allfather that it was a mistake to cast me aside," Loki seethed. "I am the true king of Asgard. Thor is nothing but an arrogant child who deserves to be locked in a cell." Yet whenever he recalls of his time on Asgard as Odin slept, he felt nothing but misery. That was not how a king was supposed to feel, he was sure it. That feeling was slowly creeping right back up, the feeling that he couldn't push away with his mind nor hands. That feeling of not belonging. For centuries he did not know why Thor was favored more than him. Odin was supposed to love his sons equally. But no, Loki is not his son. Loki is his enemy. He was adopted only out of pity, and that created the darkness inside of him. Though guided by the evil and shame, Loki is still the innocent and oblivious son. Just really deep, deep, deep down.

He shakes is head in disgust, banishing the inner battle in his mind and stands up right.

How? Never question a God.

He pats off his shoulders of invisible dust and tilts his chin up. He is Loki, God of Mischief and Lies. He is a trickster, a deceiver. He will be damned if Thor rules Asgard.

At this moment, he speaks the five words of Loki. His motto, and everything he stood for. It is his law, and his law only. He speaks it with passion, with hunger and power. He shouts it to the Nine Realms, and laughs gleefully,

"I do what I want."

A/N: Didn't expect that did you? XD He meets our precious Doctor in the next chapter. (: Please review.