If it were possible, smoke would be coming out of his ears like in a cartoon. He scowls, an expression that has left many shaking in their boots, though he wouldn’t be surprised if whatever is affecting Peter now means it will not shake him in the least.

It doesn’t stop Loki from being angry and frustrated though.

Loki steps right up into Peter’s personal space and grabs him by his shirt. Part of him is aware that if he continues this way, he’s going to be punished for daring to mistreat someone of Peter’s current stature, but he can’t bring himself to care.

When he speaks, his voice comes out low, shaky and a healthy combination of angry and desperate. “Do you mean to tell me that you shot me with an arrow without any idea of what it was meant to do?” He can feel tears of frustration fill his eyes, only serving to make him angrier. Part of him wants to hurt Peter, but the aphrodisiacs he’s currently riddled with make him want Peter to do things to him instead.

“Would you like me to beg? Is that it?” He speaks through gritted teeth, hardly aware that Peter is right, he hasn’t asked for help. Though really, at least part of what is left of his mind thought since he has claimed to have aimed for him, that he knew what he was getting into when he shot at Loki in the first place.