Chapter 1
The Grandmaster required your company. You weren’t in a rush, as being late proved your status on this planet, Sakaar. You were the Grandmaster’s right arm. He let you get away with anything and everything, so long as you looked after his hair.
He was pretty egotistical about it. He’s trying to “grow it out.” You were the only one he let touch your hair, with good reason.
As you walked into the grand hall, you saw his blue hair (which you had dyed), perfectly shiny. You saw one hair out of place and went behind him, putting it back in place.
“Thank you my wonderful human. I thought I felt something wrong and none of these idiots mentioned anything!” he said. “You, Dartha, you better tell me next time or it’s the melty stick for you!”
Darth cowered in fear and shook her head. You smirked at her and went to stand beside the Grandmaster. “So Grandmaster, what is on the agenda today?”
“Well, my lovely, today’s our monthly trash sorting day. We’ve found a lot of interesting characters. I need your help, who do you think would make a good fit? I’ll want you opinion of course, and I need your help with my hair (these days are ever so long).”
You nodded and smiled accordingly. What a long, boring day. These creatures are disgusting and I see no potential in them.
The day proved to be boring, as expected. We had one more “trash” to sort. The doors opened and in walked non other than Loki; the same Loki who tried to take over your planet.
You almost dropped your jaw, but managed to control yourself. You stood a bit taller and stared down at him. He was tall, about as tall as you'd imagine a god. He looks haggard, but his smile still dazzled. He was wearing a black suit, which was impeccably clean. However, his hair had a piece of trash in it, which made you smirked. This was at once the man who tried to overtake your planet and also a completely different man.
“You’re not slimy nor do you have spikes, I’d say he’s a winner so far! Tell me, handsome; who are you and where are you from?” the Grandmaster asked, rubbing his chin.
Loki bowed, “It’s my pleasure to meet you, Grandmaster. I am Loki, of Asgard; where I currently reign as King. Unfortunately, I was betrayed and sent flying through time and space, until I ended up here.”
“Oh no, you poor thing. You’re a king and your people did that to you? I totally understand. If it wasn’t for my melty stick, these idiots would run amuck.” The Grandmaster pointed around.
“Seems to me like he doesn’t have your authority, Grandmaster.” You say and it’s the first time that Loki looks at you. His eyes glare sharply at your own before he relaxes; his mask is back on. “If you have no authority over your people--and you can’t keep it--then are you really a king?”
The Grandmaster laughs, “That you may be right about, lovely.” You smirk at Loki.
“And who is this, Grandmaster?” Loki gestured to you.
“This is my lovely right hand woman. I couldn’t run this place without her.” The Grandmaster smiled at you. You smiled down at him and put a hand on his shoulder. No one else on all of Sakaar would ever dare to touch him without his permission. The Grandmaster reached back and squeezed it affectionately.
“Ah, I see. You two are together and she fulfills your every need.” Loki spoke knowingly.
“We’re not that way, Lokes. Can I call you Lokes? Great. No, I wouldn’t mind having a pleasurable night with this one, but she’s right; friends with benefits aren’t friends!” Yes, exactly. You thought. You told the Grandmaster that lie, because you knew he valued his hair over your body. If you had not lied, he would have had you the first night and discarded you. Loki seems to guess this.
“Who says you two have to be friends? You are the ruler here, Grandmaster. You are the one who decides these things.” Loki spoke back.
“Well...I mean…” The Grandmaster looked at you again, but this time his smile was lecherous. You weren’t going to let Loki, who tried to take over your world, mess up your life--again.
Turning to the Grandmaster, you say “Grandmaster, you know I would love to have you that way; but your hair and power are so much more important to me. Lokes here wouldn’t understand that. I have an idea! Why don’t I give his hair a makeover, I mean, he could use it right? There is a piece of trash in his hair.” Loki's eyes narrowed at the mention of his new nickname.
You both turned to look at Loki. His hair was painfully dull and there was piece of trash in it. You smirked at the thought of Loki with trash in his hair. He then pulled at his hair and made a “meh” face. You hid a laugh.
“Ah, yes his hair. I mean it’s nothing compared to mine. Hmm...this will not do.” You secretly hoped that the Grandmaster would use his melty stick now!
“Y/n you’re going to be his hairstylist! We need the whole shabang: scalp treatment, deep hair conditioning, brushing, cutting, styling, and the thing you do with your hands...you know right?” The Grandmaster turned to you and you couldn’t hold your shock inside. This wasn’t what you had expected.
“Oooh, what is this thing she does with her hands? I must say I’m intrigued.” Loki smiled wickedly at you.
The Grandmaster smiled at Loki and they laughed together. You were screwed.
I’m going to kill Loki.