Chapter Text
Loki found comfort in the clothes he wore.
It was one of the few things in his life he found he could control. Of course, that wasn’t always the case as he and Thor were forced into boring button ups and vests as they grew up, but the moment he had been introduced to asgardian leather Loki was given free rein. The endless combinations of colours and designs were left at his disposal, but he had typically stuck with greens, golds, and blacks.
His style had obviously been judged. Even before Loki’s fall, the people of Asgard had whispered about how he resembled a villain that would appear in a book or a play. Loki knew why they thought this, with his green and black leather and dark slicked back hair, but he did his best to not let it bother him. This was one of the few things about himself he could control without magic, and damn him if he let that be stolen from him.
Even when under Thanos’ manipulation, Loki managed to surprisingly retain his leather. Its gold plating still glinted against the artificial midgardian light within his cell despite the scuffs, dents, and scratches it had received from Thanos’ children.
So when Loki crashed into Sakaar’s garbage littered yard, when he was brought to the Grandmaster, and when he was invited to a party , a lack of control was the last thing he had expected. The Grandmaster ran the planet, he controlled it, and from the look of interest in the man’s eyes he seemed to think he could control Loki too. He had been allowed to keep his Asgardian leathers at first and had willingly changed into some Sakaarian leathers the Grandmaster set aside for him the next day. They were nice enough, not very comfortable–then again neither were his usual clothes–and were a pleasant green. The Grandmaster seemed to pick up on his preferred colour rather quickly.
Although, what was strange was that the clothes he had worn to this washed up planet had disappeared later that day. It was a pity, Loki truly liked those robes, but he supposed he always had more. Besides, his fall onto Sakaar had left a nasty rip in one of the sleeves. Loki could never let himself be seen like that again if he wanted to keep a good image of himself on this planet.
And retain that good image he did. For the most part that is. Constantly being by the Grandmaster’s side set a sense of fear within the people of Sakaar. After all, they must believe someone who’s this close to their ruler must be as unhinged as he was, despite Loki’s cool exterior.
Of course, they weren’t entirely wrong, if they had met him while under Thanos’ control he would’ve been just as ruthless as the Grandmaster was. But time changes people.
And a blow to the head hard enough to wipe an infinity stone’s influence from your mind, but that was beside the point.
What was the point had been the Grandmaster’s ever tightening grip on Loki. The way he played with his dark hair, commenting on how he should style it next or the way he instructed Loki on where he could and couldn't go within his tower.
But despite all this, one of the things that disturbed him most was his sudden lack of choice in clothing. He had to watch as the greens slowly began to seep from his clothes, the familiarity leaving as he was left with blues and yellows.
Not gold. Never gold .
When he had gathered the courage to ask about this choice, the Grandmaster had said he didn’t want Loki to share a colour with their champion. He wanted to give Loki more of a chance to stand out.
All Loki could do at that moment was nod before, letting the grandmaster have his way.
Loki could feel his control slipping away every day he spent on that planet, and he longed to regain it. So he began to plan.
He began to plan a way to take down the Grandmaster, to rule Sakaar in his place. Of course, that plan never came to fruition as his brother soon arrived in Sakaar. Thor had formed a group and quickly escaped, leaving a rebellion in his wake.
A rebellion Loki had led back to Asgard.
The moment Loki managed to start the Statesman up was the first time he had control over his choices in what felt like years, and knowing Sakaar it was very possible that it had been.
There was no more Odin hovering over his shoulder, criticizing every little mistake he made.
No more Thanos picking at his mind, transforming him into his loyal lapdog.
No more Grandmaster, only interested in Loki’s appearance.
And as he basked in the fact that he no longer had to follow anybody, Loki let his seidr wash over him. He felt the weight of his horns on his head and smiled as his blue and yellow Sakaarian leather shifted to forest green and black.
He was in control.
And whoever tried to take that from him would regret it.