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Chapter Text

In retrospect, Fury thinks he really should never have even suggested the Avengers Initiative.

Ironically, superheroes were a lot more trouble than they were worth. Sure, it was handy when they saved the world from the multitude of Crazy-Ass-Motherfuckers that were intent on taking it over, but they were ridiculously unstable. Not to mention that they caused an endless amount of trouble that was as bad as (if not more) the damage than the many villains caused. The amount of complaints from the World Council … even Agent Coulson had complained of the endless paperwork he'd had to fill out on the Avengers.

“Do you realize that I've filled out Form 354-B? That form was a complete precaution that none of us thought we would have to fill out. I don't even know how they managed to find magical unicorn pegasi made of ice-cream, let alone the fact that it wasn't even Loki or Doom who let them loose on Los Angeles. We do not get this much shit from any of our other Initiatives, none of our groups or anyone we're associated with have idiots like we do … ”

So, after much discussion and endless ideas that had been tried, failed and scrapped, some idiot had the idea to suggest adding 'community service' as a part of the Avengers' contracts. Each of the Avengers would be called upon to help society, particularly in places or areas of need, etc., etc …

The irony was not lost on a single member of S.H.I.E.L.D.

As the team filed into the debriefing room, Fury noted with a groan that, once again, there had clearly been yet another incident, the particulars of which he shuddered to think. Captain Rogers was attempting to hold—goddamn motherfucker—a giggling, seductively grinning Loki off from groping him in extremely inappropriate locations. Thor, who for whatever reason was perfectly unbothered by the fact that his psychotic supervillain-of-a-brother was grabbing at his teammate's bottom, was wailing “What Does The Fox Say” at the top of his lungs. Agent Barton was singing along with him. Parker was struggling and yelling, carried in by none other than Fantastic Four member Jonathan Storm, who was grinning madly. Stark, who was dressed in nothing more than sleep lingerie, strutted into the room with a sultry smirk plastered across his face. Colonel Rhodes was following him, frantically trying to stuff him into a trench coat. Wanda Maximoff was dragging her brother Pietro into the room by the ear, both smelling strongly of wet dog. Dr. Banner and Sam Wilson wandered in with thoughtful looks on their faces, tugged along by a grumbling Agent Romanoff.

“All this fucking paperwork I'm going to have to fill out,” Fury muttered under his breath.

Agent Coulson herded the rest of the Avengers into the room, clearly pissed, and called, “I'm going on a donut run.” He left.

Fury shot a one-eyed glare in his direction, then turned it to the assembled superheroes. He pulled out a Storm Whistle, took a deep breath, and blew it. The ear-piercing shriek shot through the air, accompanied by the collective yelps, and he tucked it back into his pocket.

“All right, you idiots! Since all of you dumbasses clearly can't not get into a shitload of trouble, we're going to occupy your time with something a little less fucking destructive. You're all doing community service!”

Loki pulled himself off of Steve, whining, “But I don' wanna!!”

Fury growled and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You don't—you're not even—yes, whatever, you're doing community service, deal with it.” Loki squirmed, pouting, and dumped himself back into a blushing Steve's lap. “I have events set up for each of you to undertake.” He gestured carelessly at the small pile of manila envelopes on the table in front of him. “Take yours.”

Tony shoved past all of them and snatched his. “The sooner this is over, the better,” he declared. “Pepper makes me do this shit all the time, no big deal.” He read over his packet. “Fucking succeed! A dance-off! Time to show off my sweet moves!” He began to dance, head-banging while playing an air guitar.

“What? Unfair. Let me see mine!” Pietro wrenched away from Wanda and snatched his folder, nearly ripping the paper as he tugged it out of his folder. “Sweet, I got a dance-off, too! Oh, and I'm competing against the Justice League! Oh, sweet, those guys are so cool!”

“What?! Wonder Woman is, like, my idol!” Peter gasped, finally slipping out of Johhny's arms. He grabbed his folder. “Awww … I'm doing a run/walk.”

“With zombies,” Natasha commented, digging through the other files while fending off a teary Clint. “And don't be so excited about the dance-off or the competition. It looks like all of us are doing those.”

“Oh, what?” Sam looked crestfallen. “Don't get me wrong, I love charity events, but... I'm going to have to share the dance floor with you guys.”

“And why is that a problem?” Clint demanded. “I'm an awesome dancer!”

“ … ”

“Now, calm down, everyone, I'm sure everything will turn out well,” Bruce said placatingly.

“Indeed,” Thor said brightly. “I shall teach you Midgardians the true ways of dancing!”

“Will you?” Loki rolled his eyes. “The last I remembered, I was the better dancer between us.”

“I've only caused mass chaos two hundred times in the last thousand years! I'm a wonderful dancer,” Thor said defensively.  Then he grinned. “Especially in the bedroom. As I'm sure you're very aware.”

Loki, now flushed and furious, proceeded to hurl dangerously sizzling bolts of energy at his brother, shouting angrily. “Ah, pseudo-incest,” Clint said, shaking his head. “Just as bad as Tony.”

“I wouldn't be so bad if Steve wasn't so hot.” Tony grinned at Steve, who groaned and dropped his head in his hands, mortified.

“Dad, not the time,” Peter groaned.

“Anyways,” Loki panted, having conjured an enormous, snarling bearlike creature to sit upon his brother's chest, “I will look forward to these events. My good enemies. I will be seeing you later. Be prepared to see many of my close companions joining me.” And with that, he was gone, leaving nothing more than a bright flash and a small explosion of confetti.

“Hmm.” Tony plucked a small shred from the air, examining it. “My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. Nice choice.”

Natasha scoffed. “My Little Pony? Seriously?”

“Omigosh, I love love love that show!” Clint gushed, shoving her out of the way. “Fluttershy is the absolute best!”

“I know, right?” Tony squealed. “And Princess Celestia is soooo amazing!”

“ … ” Fury watched the scene in front of him for about three more seconds, before tossing ripping his papers in half and storming out of the room, calling over his shoulder, “I'm out of here. You motherfuckers have fun with your ponies without me.”

“Princess Luna is wayyyy cooler,” Pietro scoffed, crossing his arms. “And Twilight Dash is the best. Gawsh. Obvi, she's, like, an Alicorn.”

“Oh, no he didn't!” Clint snapped his fingers angrily.

Tony put his hands on his hips, glaring at Pietro. “Just so you know, Pietro, all Ponies are created equal, whether they're unicorns, pegasi, or alicorns. Duh! And if you can't even get that right, clearly you're not even fit to be a Brony!”

“Excuse me?!” Pietro advanced on Tony, snarling. “I am totally Brony material! I am a better Brony than you ever will be!”

“You anti-Brony!”

“You did not just go there!”

With that, the three men began to fight, slapping at each other and squawking noisily.

“That's your husband,” Peter told Steve pointedly.

“And that's your father,” he replied.

“He's my best friend,” Rhodey sighed. The two looked at him, then patted his shoulders sympathetically.

“These boys are idiots.” Wanda rolled her eyes dismissively. “My Little Pony is childish. Clearly Adventure Time is the superior show. And it's not even centered around Rainicorns or PB.”

“What are you people even talking about?” Sam demanded, huffing. “Those shows are lame. Why watch those when you can watch Avatar: The Last Airbender or Legend of Korra?”

“WHAT DOES THE FOX SAY!!” Thor wailed, flailing his limbs underneath the bearlike creature cheerfully.

Bruce stood beside him, wringing his hands nervously. “Thor, please calm down. Just... please, we need to get that bear off of you.”

“Fenrir is not a bear, he is a ferocious wolf,” Thor protested, patting the bear (er, wolf) affectionately. “Fenrir is my dearest brother's son. He is fated to swallow your sun and eat Odin All-Father. But he is a very sweet puppy. Aren't you, my sweet-little-poopie-poo?” He scratched Fenrir below the chin, and the dog gave a bark that could be easily compared to the roar of a Tyrannosaurus Rex, licking Thor's face happily. “He's never taken to my father, oddly enough.”

“Ah.” Bruce blinked. “That's nice, Thor. But I'm sure Fenrir would enjoy playing with you... outside of headquarters.”

“Indeed! Fenrir, outdoors we go!” The enormous wolf bounded off the wolf's chest and straight through the wall and the many walls to the outside, barking happily amidst the screams of teror and gunshots as Thor barreled after him, roaring with happy laughter.

“KRAK-KRAK-KRAK-KAK-KAKKA-KOW!!”

"I'd better go make sure he doesn't destroy everything," Natasha said with an annoyed sigh.

“PRINCESS CELESTIA!!” Tony yelped.

Pietro screeched, “PRINCESS LUNA!!”

“Lumpy Space Princess,” Wanda said under her breath, rolling her eyes.

“Toph Beifong,” Sam insisted.

“I don't understand a single thing they're talking about,” Steve said, pinching the bridge of his nose. He grabbed Tony and dragged him off. Tony continued to claw, half-sobbing as Pietro and Clint followed, screaming at each other. Rhodey followed, separating the three.

“ENOUGH!”

“But Pietro—”

“—Not a Brony—”

“—All ponies are created equal—”

“I don't want to hear another word from the three of you! For once in your life, stop acting like obsessive fangirls and act like the grown men you're supposed to be!”

“You've got a great family,” Johnny said happily. “Sis never lets me do anything cool. You should totally dump that Deadpool jerkass so you can be with a real hero.”

“STAY AWAY FROM MY BOYFRIEND!!” Wade roared, smashing through the windows.

“BRING IT ON, YOU IDIOT MERC!”

“YOU WANNA PIECE OF ME, YOU FLAMING PSYCHO?! I'LL GIVE YOU A PIECE!!”

“I'm going to go hang out with Gwen and Harry,” Peter said awkwardly, and left the two to their fight.

“PETER IS MINE!!” Wade slashed angrily at Johnny, who laughed and backed him outside what was left of the debriefing room slowly, forcing him backwards as he burst into flames, cackling madly.

“I understand that the Avatar is a very accomplished individual in the field of world peace, but my argument is less on the subject of balance and more on the flaws of humanity,” Wanda argued. “The idea of a post-apocalyptic society with endless debate as to how exactly humanity came to an end is surely more interesting than a society of mixed elementals.”

“Perhaps, but the idea of a quickly developing society is certainly interesting,” Sam replied. “A scientific and industrial revolution that would occur in a seventy-year span sprouts wonder at how such achievement could be attained. Particularly in so short a time period. The apocalyptic event that occurred in Adventure Time is just as interesting as a society so quick at advance that it demands interest to how much further it will advance, especially in comparison with mankind today.”

“I see your point,” Wanda conceded. “Of course, I feel a comparison between two subjects is particularly difficult to enact—rather, the two television shows are fairly equal in most terms. I feel that  the limited romantic interactions in between the characters of Adventure Time holds more significance than that of Legend of Korra.”

“Undeniably.” Sam nodded. “But certainly, the spiritual and emotional depth of Avatar: The Last Airbender remains on a much higher level than that of Adventure Time.”

“I'm back,” Coulson said cheerfully, balancing a small donut back and two drink carriers. He stopped. “Odd. I expected you two to have remained, but I would also have assumed Natasha, Rhodey, Peter and Steve would also have been present. I bought donuts for all seven of us.”

“Sorry, Phil,” Sam said apologetically. “Rhodey and Steve had to take Clint, Pietro and Tony back to the Tower. And Peter was avoiding the wrath of Mr. Wilson and Mr. Storm.”

“Ah, I see. Well, I suppose we have extra donuts. Perhaps I'll visit Ms. Potts and Ms. Foster's lab later on.” He flipped open his phone. “That's a new record, you know. Normally it takes about fifteen minutes for Headquarters to be demolished. It only took eleven-point-five minutes this time. Bear Claw?”

“Please.” Sam took it from him, smiling. “Black coffee with whipped cream?”

“Of course.” They sat together in the wreckage, sipping coffee and eating donuts.

(Wanda ate the one with the rainbow sprinkles.)

(She thought there should have been more chocolate syrup on it.)

Chapter Text

“Lady Jane, I'm afraid I still do not understand why you must accompany us to this event,” Thor said uncertainly, although not unkindly. “I am quite sure we are able to handle ourselves.”

Loki scoffed. “Indeed? The last time we were here, we rampaged S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters and half destroyed a mall in New Mexico. You need supervision.”

“I do believe it is you who needs supervision.” Sif smirked. “Or do you not terrorize Midgard on a daily basis?”

“Not a daily basis,” Loki said defensively. “Weekly, perhaps. But certainly not on a daily basis.”

“And the last time,” Fandral went on, grinning, “you went on a rampage because you lost your—what is it called?—Lovely Lady Tresses Crème.”

Darcy snickered. “Lovely Lady Tresses Crème?”

“Now, now, let's not fight,” Jane said placatingly, but Loki was sputtering too loudly for anyone to hear her.

“That crème is specifically for managing my Jötnar hair, and you know it!” Loki snapped, slowly but surely turning the exact shade of a ripe tomato. “And you're one to talk! Unlike you, I don't use that ridiculous Pretty Sexy Curling Gel you buy every other day because you use the entire container in an hour!”

“Pretty Sexy Curling Gel, huh?” Darcy giggled. “That sounds really manly.”

“It is,” Fandral said firmly. “Without it, my luscious curls are never quite perky enough.”

“All right, all right, that's enough,” Jane said firmly, grabbing Darcy's arm and tugging her forward. “We have lots of classes to visit and not enough time to read. Let's go, people!”

Due to a combination of guilt from prior destructive events and Loki's wheedling, Lady Sif and the Warriors Three had insisted upon doing their part in “this healthy dosage of service to the towns and villages of Midgard”. They had been particularly cheerful upon discovering that they would be visiting a number of New York public schools to read and tell tales to young children. This particular school asked that they read stories to the kindergarteners, who were of course very excited to see an Avenger and his companions.

“Welcome!” The teacher gushed as they entered the first classroom. “It's so exciting to have you all here! We have a few student groups set out for each of you!”

“Thank you,” Loki said graciously, sending her a sparkling smile. The lady flushed, pleased. “This a lovely classroom, Miss...?”

“Miss Carter,” she said breathlessly. “Why don't you follow me, Sir … ?”

“Ah—Loki,” he said carefully, and she smiled brighter.

“Like the Norse god!”

“Er. Yes, like that. Now, you were showing me … ?”

“Right this way, right this way...” She led him away, laughing happily.

“ … Did what I think just happened actually happen, or did I imagine it?” Sif asked uncertainly.

“Look! Children!” Thor flew past her, roaring joyously. Immediately an enormous swarm of children tackled him to the floor, squealing in excitement.

“Mister Thow! Mister Thow!”

“Look! I wosted a tooth! Wanna see?”

“Yaaaay!”

“Right.” Sif blinked. “I'll just. Find someone to read to.”

“How wonderful! They remind me of my own children.” Volstagg snatched a large number of books from a shelf and plopped down on the floor. A gathering of children swamped him. “Your Changing Body! Page one … as you grow up, you will start to notice several changes in your body. You may want to touch someone in strange ways or feel the urge to … ”

“ … And I slashed the bilgesnipe's head off of its scaly body, lifting it up into the air for all our warriors to see! It was covered in blood and had these enormous antlers sticking out all over its head, but it was a great victory indeed!” Fandral slammed his palm down on the table, to the girlish, giggling shrieks of a number of young boys, all cuddling up to the Asgardian.

Hogun sat in front of a particularly shy little girl, all curled up in a ball, and lifted a book in front of his face. He lowered and said in a monotone voice, “Boo,” and the girl giggled and shrieked with laughter.

“Aren't we here to keep things under control?” Darcy muttered to Jane, who stood there frozen.

“I don't know if 'control' is a possibility with these guys,” she said helplessly.

“Ring-a-round-the-rosies, a pocket full of posies, ashes, ashes, we all KNEEL!” Loki shouted, spinning a ring of children around. At the last word, they all knelt in front of him, giggling.

“Er … I don't think that's quite how the nursery rhyme goes,” Darcy said awkwardly.

“I know,” Loki replied. “I like this version much better.”

Volstagg continued, “ … and when you get those tingly feelings, don't be scared! That's just your body's way of telling you that it's getting you ready for sexual—yes?”

“Mr. Volstagg?” one of the kindergarteners asked tentatively.

“Yes, dear?”

“What's a com-dum?” he asked, curious. “'Cause Mommy always makes Daddy go buy them from the grocery-store because she says she doesn't want any more little monsters running around the house.”

“Well, Timothy, a condom is—”

Jane hurried over and slapped a hand over his mouth. “Wellll, I think that's enough of that. Ahhhh. Volstagg, why don't you tell them about... some battle you were in.”

“I'm not very good with children,” Sif muttered. “They're so sticky.”

“Well … ” the teacher flounced over to her, smiling brightly. “You could sit some of them down to a video.” She gestured to a computer. “Perhaps on an educational channel?”

“Video?” Sif said slowly. She sat down slowly, perplexed. “A good video website?”

“Of course! The children will tell you what they wish to watch. You will, of course, have full rein over what they watch. Have fun!”

“Video?” Sif repeated, utterly bemused.

“Missus Sipp!” A boy plopped himself down on her lap. She flinched. “Go to the face tube!”

“Face tube?”

“Yeah! The Youtube channel!”

“Youtube … ?” Sif typed in the little buttons on the keyboard as he pointed to them. The screen flashed, and she jumped. “Youtube?”

“Youtube!!” More surrounded her. “Look! A kids video!” one shouted, pointing to a tiny little icon. “Let's watch that one!”

“Don't Hug Me I'm Scared … ?” Sif shrugged helplessly. “Seems fine enough.”

“Yaaaay!”

“What's your favorite idea? Mine is being creative … ”

“Hmmm … ” Sif said softly. “Creative … ”

“Now, when you look at this orange … Tell me, what do you see?”

“It's just an orange,” Sif said dubiously.

“I see a silly face, walking along and smiling at me … ”

“Intriguing … ” Sif said, crossing her arms. After some difficulty, she turned up the volume. More children gathered around her.

“I use my hair to express myself … ”

“My hair? Loki cut off all my hair and grew it back black,” Sif said contemplatively. “I must admit, I do look better with black hair.”

“Green is not a creative color … ”

“I see them as well,” Sif said, pleased. “This is a very informative video!”

Loki hummed “Tiptoe Through the Tulips” as he braided a young girl's hair. “What Midgardian garbage are you showing the children on that computer, Sif?”

“It's called, 'Don't Hug Me I'm Scared',” she replied, smiling brightly. “It's quite interesting. I think you would enjoy it.”

“It's what?!” Jane sprinted over to the laptop and slammed it down. A collective groan echoed. “Sorry, kids! Ahahaaa … Let's go play outside!”

“Yaaaaaayy!!”

“But—but it's not recess time … yet.” The teacher trailed off, left entirely to herself as the rest rushed out the doors.

It was August in New York, the trees rich with green and the sky blue-white and cloudless with heat. The playground was simple and messy with the toys of the morning recess; there were crooked hopscotch games, worn down pieces of chalk thrown far and wide, colorful playsets set in gravel pits, swings that creaked and swayed softly in the breeze, and scattered balls flung across a miniscule playing field.

“I will teach you to wield the might of a sword!” Sif said bravely, striding towards a nearby tree and ripping off a lower branch, stripping it of its smaller branches and tossing them to the children. “I'm afraid they're not much, but next time we visit, I promise I will bring real weapons for you to play with!”

“Yaaayy!”

“The evil bear is here!” Volstagg roared, chasing a large number of screaming children onto the playsets, which creaked frighteningly under his weight.

“No, no, no!!” A crowd of young girls stomped their feet in irritation. “Mr., you're doing it wrong!”

“Apologies, my good friends,” Fandral said sheepishly. “It's a difficult procedure, no?”

“Nuh-uh!” One of the girls scoffed. “Just do it like we do!”

As Fandral was stumbling and hastily correcting his poor hopscotch etiquette, Loki was teaching his lot how to become tyrants.

“This is a repeat after me song!” Loki shouted.

“This is a repeat after me song!” The children screamed.

“Good! I am worthy!”

“I am worthy!”

“Marvelous! Kingship is in my blood!”

“Kingship is in my blood!”

“Perfect! Kneel before me! No, I don't mean you kneel, say the words!” He said hastily as they all knelt before him. “Say, 'kneel before me'!”

“Kneel before me!”

“Wonderful! Death to the opposition!”

“Death to the opposition!”

“You're all wonderful little rulers of the world!” Loki said, utterly delighted. “Now say, I do what I want!”

“I do what I want!”

“Brother, what are you doing?” Thor asked curiously.

Loki turned to him, silent. Then, “I'm creating a legion of leaders who will rule the entire Nine Realms and beyond.”

Thor blinked. “ … Why?”

“They seemed worthy beings of domination. I have decided to teach them to become good rulers.” Loki shrugged. “As of current, I am teaching them phrases to take values from.” He turned back to the arrayed masses. “Recite your values!”

“I am worthy! Kingship is in my blood! Kneel before me! Death to the opposition! I do what I want!”

Thor's eyes widened. “Impressive,” he marveled. “May I try?”

“I suppose,” Loki said doubtfully.

Thor turned to the children and roared, “WHAT DOES THE FOX SAY?!”

“RING-DING-DING-DING-DINGERINGEDING!”

“SHOW ME THE CARFAX!”

“NOTHING!”

Sif paced between her rows of newfound soldiers. “Advance! Lunge! Parry! Block! Lunge! Advance! Parry! Good! Remember to think creatively! Again!”

“Missus Sipp! Missus Sipp! I gotsdeded it!!”

“Excellent job, little Felix! One day you will slash the heads off of bilgesnipe in a single stroke!”

“Yaaaaayyy!!” Felix ran forward, wildly waving his stick, and accidentally jammed it into Volstagg's belly.

“Ouch!” Volstagg yelped in surprise.

“My stick!!” Felix wailed, trying to rip it from the Asgardian's belly.

“Why did you sign us up for this, again?” Darcy muttered to Jane.

“Children,” the teacher said nervously, wringing her hands. “I think it's time to go back inside! Lunch recess isn't for two more hours!”

“I do what I want!” one of the children shouted, and tackled the teacher.

“I do what I want too!” another piped up, and proceeded to jump onto the rapidly growing pile of children on top of the teacher.

“Me, too!”

“Death to the opposition!!”

“ACK!!” the teacher shrieked.

“Nononono!” Jane hurried over, tugging children off. “OW! No biting!”

“Kingship is in my blood!”

“You're hopscotching wrong!”

“KNEEL BEFORE ME!!”

“Stop biting!” Darcy waved the Asgardians over frantically. “Don't just stand there gaping like fish! Get these psychotic little brats off of her!!”

“Lady Jane, are you all right?” Sif asked worriedly, tugging an angry child that was gnashing its teeth off of the smaller woman's arm. She knelt to inspect the flesh, tutting over the rather odd shape that looked a bit like something rabid latched onto Jane's arm. It smelled like a combination of school lunch, dirt, and mint toothpaste.

“I'm fine,” Jane said breathlessly.

“So that's why we signed up for this,” Darcy snickered, and Jane shot her a look. “Hey, don't mind me. But I gotta say, a little unfair that you're trying to hook up with two gods.”

“Darcy!” Jane's face was red. “Not the time!”

“It's totally the time for this!” Darcy argued. “I'm, like, your only friend, you bitch, I should totally get some action! You can't tell me that you don't think a threesome would be pretty damn hot!”

“Darcy!” Jane wailed. “Enough!”

“I've got this.” Loki stepped forward. “CHILDREN!” They all froze, staring up at him with wide eyes in silence. His fingers glittered with sparkling light. A table appeared, filled to the brim with—

“CUUUUPCAAAAKES!!!”

Loki threw himself out of the way as the table was bombarded with a multitude of rabid children, all grabbing for cupcakes. Fandral hurried over to the lady, who stared up at the sky dazed. “Are you all right, Madam?” he asked in concern.

“You know, it's funny, but this isn't even the worst thing that's happened with these kids,” she mumbled. “One time, they decided to make up their own language and secretly plotted to extend summer vacation using a combination of glue, vanilla ice cream and gingivitis.”

“I did something like that once,” Loki said wistfully. “The ice cream part, not the glue and gingivitis part. I love sweets. Especially pudding. Chocolate pudding. Oh, I love chocolate pudding. We should go find a pudding warehouse and steal all the chocolate pudding.”

“Why did you present the children with sugar?” Sif said, raising an eyebrow. “Woould they not become more riled?”

“Mmm? Oh, I spiked them with sleeping powder. I was originally saving them for you all, but I think they've gone to a good cause.” Sure enough, one by one, each of the children collapsed on the ground, snoring like a gang of evil robot dinosaurs had gotten into nasty spats with a community of freight trains that doubled as spies and the two factions had entered into an epic showdown that would end in death and destruction. Or something like that.

“They'll make very good dictators,” Loki said dreamily.

Needless to say, Thor and his Asgardian friends were relieved of their community service duties.

Chapter Text

Although it had been highly disappointing for Peter to discover he would not have the chance to meet his idol, Wonder Woman, Peter couldn't help but be pleased as he looked at himself in the organizer's hand mirror.

"You look good as a zombie," the woman observed. "Very vicious."

"Thanks again for agreeing to let me volunteer last minute, Ms. Anderson," Peter told her, smiling brightly. "I was afraid it was too late to sign up."

"Thank you for volunteering," Ms. Anderson said easily. "We need all the help we can get. And it's always refreshing to see kids your age volunteering."

"Er—right." Peter smiled, feeling mildly guilty. "Of course."

As it was, S.H.I.E.L.D. and all its workers, including the members of the Initiative, had many policies in order to keep the multitude of Earth's dangerous secrets hidden, one of which was blatantly lying to people with the aide of S.H.I.E.L.D. Resources to keep the identities of their more compromised members secret. It turned out that keeping your true identity a secret from the world was a lot more difficult, Peter thought ruefully, when you either a) disliked having a guilty conscience, or b) hung around with people who did a poor job of keeping any kind of secret whatsoever (cough cough Wade, Johnny cough cough).

But today would be different, Peter decided. The idea of volunteering in such an exciting way was immensely intriguing and satisfying, something he wouldn't wish to be ruined in any way. To achieve this, he'd deliberately told a butt-load of complete lies concerning the event to every other Avenger as well as anyone else he was ever even the slightest bit in contact with.

As part of a small number of bloodthirsty zombies, Peter had been instructed to follow behind the runners and jump out at them as well as chase them for a short distance until the next batch of zombies began to chase after them.

With the crowd of runners approaching, Peter readied himself, keeping watch just behind a large barrier. He was just about to jump out from his hiding spot and chase the runners when a hand tapped his shoulder. He turned impatiently, and his jaw dropped.

Loki stood before him, arms bared in a sleeveless bright yellow top with a matching head band and neon pink short shorts. He also wore long white thigh-high socks rimmed in red and blue and blue-green high tops. Behind him, a number of startled "zombies" stood muttering and staring at his butt without an ounce of shame.

"Oh, hello, Peter!" Loki called cheerfully. "Is this your community service assignment? I didn't know they rescheduled!"

"Loki, what are you doing here?" Peter demanded, immediately falling out of character.

The God of Mischief shrugged. "I enjoy Midgardian culture. I was not aware that Midgard was suffering a severe epidemic of undead. I had been under the impression that my daughter Hela was doing an excellent job of keeping the dead in Hel, so of course such an idea would desire my inspection. Especially since you humans seem to use them as a form of entertainment."

"Er—there aren't really any zombies," Peter said, flummoxed. "I don't think, I mean, it's a sort of, um, Midgardian event … where we dress up as reanimated corpses to encourage the willing participants to run and act as if they were being chased."

"No zombies? Then why are there little humans traipsing around covered in blood? I was under the impression that humans had very little blood to spare in their bodies."

"That's fake blood," Peter said patiently. "We use it for decoration and for appearances meant to frighten. But Loki—"

"You don't have very many," Loki observed.

"Well, I suppose, I guess it's a busy month, and not a lot of people have the time to volunteer," Peter said helplessly.

"That's perfectly all right," Loki said decisively. "I've found I enjoy showing mortals the more pleasant side of life—and they seem to enjoy it, from my dear dictators-in-training … I'm sure I could spare you a favor."

" … What."

Loki flipped out a bright gold phone covered in little green skulls and crossbones, dialing a number. "Hello? Hela! It's Loki. Good to hear from you, too, sweetie. Listen, honey, I need you to do me a favor. Remember that community service project I told you about? Well, my good friend Peter is preforming one in New York, but they need some of your souls to return to Midgard for a short period of time and cause havoc. You know, the usual. You will? Great! Yes, of course you can come watch. Talk to you later, hon!"

" … What on earth did I just get myself into?" Peter mumbled.

Seconds later, a woman bedecked in green and black popped into existence right beside Loki. She was tall, young and beautiful, with pale skin and bright green eyes. She looked absolutely nothing like one would picture a goddess of the dead. She grinned at the other god, flipping shut a Barbie-pink phone bedecked in flowers. "You called?"

"Hela." Loki smiled brightly at her. "My, aren't we quick?"

She snorted. "You're growing soft, helping the Midgardians, asking me for favors."

Loki smirked. "If being soft consists of mornings filled with coffee, more people to manipulate, and sex, then yes, I am growing quite soft."

"Coffee?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, coffee. I'll have to take you some time—there's a lovely shop here, it's quite delectable, and the view from the donut is surprisingly interesting. I'll have to show you."

"Hm." Hela frowned. "I have a meeting with Death soon, I might have to take a rain check."

"Oh, Death?" Loki smiled pleasantly. "I'm sure she'd enjoy coffee, as well. It'll be a nice change in venue for your meetings. Besides, I have business with her, myself. I'd advise dressing in Midgardian fashion. The cashmere sweaters are very soft."

"Noted." Hela wiggled her fingers. "You want the angry undead, the depressed undead, or the obsessive-compulsive undead?"

"I don't really need any undead," Peter said loudly, but the two ignored him. "And what do you mean, you have business with Death?"

"I think a nice mixture of all three would be nice," Loki said thoughtfully. "But mostly the angry ones. People get more exercise that way." He chuckled.

"No undead! We're good here! We don't need any!"

"Nice choice." Hela snapped her fingers, and the ground beneath their feet burst open, and several souls crawled out, gasping.

"My subjects!" Hela shouted. "Go chase humans and act like zombies!"

The dead, who were, oddly enough, neither rotting nor did they look particularly deathly, looked at her for a moment, then shrugged, yanking themselves from the ground. The runners, many of whom had slowed or stopped to watch in interest, began to scream and scramble away in terror as the dead sprinted after them, snarling and growling viciously. A bucket of popcorn appeared in Loki's hands, and he popped a few kernels into his mouth, sharing it with Hela.

"Hey, sweetums!" Wade appeared behind Peter, who threw his arms up in a mixture of complete frustration and annoyance. "Well, hello to you, too, Mr. Grumpy-pants!"

"Shove it, merc!" Johnny pushed past him, grinning at Peter. "Hey, babe. You given any more thought about ditching this idiot?"

"What are you doing here?" Peter demanded. "How did you even know the run was today?"

"I snooped through your files," Wade said cheerily.

"And I was following you," Johnny told him brightly. "By the way, Wade told your dads and they told me to tell you that just for lying to them, they're going to go around showing other people your baby pictures. Especially the one of you pooping on the carpet."

"And Agent Romanoff told me to tell you to remind her to give you lessons on lying. Also, Thor tells me that even he guessed you weren't telling the truth."

"Ooh, ouch," Loki said sympathetically.

Peter buried his face in his hands. "They're not really coming, are they?" he asked through muffled fingers.

"Maybe," Johnny said cheerfully. "Since, y'know, there are now vicious zombies on the loose. Ooh, popcorn! Can I have some?"

"Of course," Hela said graciously, holding out a large bowl of buttered popcorn, and he smiled, taking a handful.

"Thanks!"

Three zombies sprinted after a hysterically laughing woman, who waved cheerily at Peter as she shot by. "The zombie run this year is great!"

"You living people have no idea how we dead people have it!" a dead woman snarled angrily.

"Everyone hates me even in the afterlife!" another sobbed.

"I need to wash my hands again!" the third said frantically.

"They're like the zombies from 28 Days Later," Wade commented. "Terrifyingly fast and bloodthirsty. Except they don't look dead."

Hela scoffed, stuffing her mouth with popcorn. "You think I'm going to waltz around in a kingdom full of smelly, mindless, rotting people? I'd have let them loose on the realms and quit my job much sooner. Besides, they're not the actual bodies, they're more the souls. Souls are much easier to maintain than the undead. Hey! Maybe I should call up the Valkyries, I know we've had our little fights, but I'm sure they'd love to see all these mewling quims terrified …" She snapped her fingers and shouted, "Yo, Brunhilde! I got something you have to see!"

About a dozen people descended from the sky, led by a Valkyrie with an enormous shield in one hand and a spear in the other. She smiled coolly at Hela, who grinned back.

"Hela," she said smoothly. "You called?"

"Indeed, my good Brunhilde," Hela said brightly. "See how the puny humans run?"

Brunhilde scanned the scene. All around, the "puny humans" were either running and screaming, chatting animatedly with the spirits, or helping them rearrange park benches and tables into a more suitable fashion. "Indeed. I brought some of my own."

"Wonderful!" Hela clapped her hands. "Loki, this was a wonderful idea!"

Loki bowed. "I'm very glad you think so. Unfortunately, I'm fairly certain there are those who would consider this event unsuitable for humans and would consider us villainous persons of interest."

"The humans seem to be enjoying it," Brunhilde noticed, gesturing toward a human woman who was giggling and kicking leaves at a grinning dead man.

Loki shrugged. "As far as I am aware, this is really simply just another day for the citizens of New York. Some of my more … ah … virtuous companions would beg to differ."

"Companions like that insufferable Anthony Stark?" Hela grumbled.

Loki shrugged. "He's amusing to be around. He also has other appeals. I invited him and the good Captain Rogers to bed, but I'm afraid they haven't quite seen eye-to-eye on the matter."

"A shame," Brunhilde commented. "They're both quite handsome."

"I should mention that Stark and Rogers are kind of like my surrogate parents," Peter pointed out, looking mildly nauseated. "And, uh, that's not really an image I'd like in my head."

They ignored him. "In any case, I know a lovely little shop that sells the most delectable pastries and a lovely drink I'm sure you both would love," Loki said, leading the two women away. "They're called donuts and coffee. I'm particularly fond of coffee, it's delicious with about seven spoons of sugar, chocolate and caramel syrup, and perhaps a number of marshmallows …"

"Peter is mine," Johnny said haughtily.

Wade laughed derisively. "As if. He chose me, not you."

"Whatever, gramps! You're too old for him!"

"As if you can talk!"

"Suck it, you mercenary, as if he'd stay with a villain like you!"

"That's funny, because clearly he still chose me, you hot-headed little shit!"

"My powers are cooler than yours, anyways!"

"And yet he's still with me! Face it, loser, he wants me!"

"Not for long!" The two began to fight.

"Fuck my life," Peter said miserably, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing in exhaustion. "Fuck. My. Life."