Chapter Text
Loki Laufeyson had done some questionable things on Midgard. He had been proven innocent for his crimes in 2012. When Thor told the Midgardians that Loki was simply influenced by the scepter and Thanos, they were hesitant to believe that.
Thor had decided that it would be best if Loki stayed in Asgard for a few years. Let the humans forget about it. Then Loki would be free to return to Midgard.
During Loki’s ‘house arrest’, as Thor heartily called it, Loki had fallen in love with a beautiful woman. Her name was Piper. Loki saw her as the fairest maiden that Asgard had to offer.
Loki was deeply in love with Piper. Odin blessed their marriage after some debating. Loki was a loving father, and he gave up his malicious tricks after he got married.
And Loki’s blessings didn’t end there.
Within a year of getting married, Piper became pregnant. She gave birth to a lovely boy, who took after his father in appearance. His eyes bore the same deep green, his hair was raven black. Yet his face shone with his mother’s beauty.
His name was Piko. Piko Lokison. For three years, the boy grew. Loki and Piper loved their child dearly.
Piko would roam the halls of the palace, exploring places where he shouldn’t be.
And that is where Loki’s blessings ended.
Piper fell ill shortly after Piko’s fourth birthday. She died later. Loki was overcome with grief. Piko didn’t understand the weight of the situation. Piko would often find his father on the verge of tears.
Loki didn’t give up, though. He had a child. A little boy who needed his protection.
Sure, Piko was a god. The god of Deception. Yet the child could hardly fool anyone, so he didn’t live up to his name.
Loki taught his son the arts of magic. Piko started to truly fit his title once he mastered illusions. He’d use his magic day after day, pranking his uncle Thor and Loki.
And Loki was happy. For the first time since Piper had died, Loki was utterly and truly happy. He loved Piko, as much as, if not more than Piper. Loki was proud of Piko for mastering his little illusions, and found joy in playing along with them.
Loki and Thor would often find the little boy passed out from sheer exhaustion, since he had been using up so much energy to power his magic. He never looked distressed when he slept; Piko often bore a triumphant smile in his sleep. Probably due to a successful prank.
And then Loki was invited back to Midgard. It had been five years since the events of New York, and he was a changed and deeply sorry man/god. Tony Stark offered Loki a spot at the Avengers Tower of all places, since he was now ‘one of the team members.’ To think that the Avengers boasted not one, but two gods on their team!
Loki accepted, and brought Piko along to Midgard.
Piko was free to go back and forth between the two worlds, but chose to spend most of his time with his father on Midgard. Loki had felt obliged to help in any way possible after 2012.
Now Piko was 15, in Midgard years he was more or less two hundred. Time worked differently in between worlds. (I don’t know how it works but for the sake of the story, Piko looks physically 15 idc how old he actually is).
And he had been going through the high school curriculum for almost a full school year. Oh how he hated it.
“There’s this kid,” Piko said. Piko used a fake name and identity at school: Peter Parker. A boy with brown curls and brown eyes to match. Nothing regal or Asgardian about him. “His name is Flash Thompson. He has taken a liking to a thing called ‘bullying’ and it is quite amusing to watch. He flails around and just so happens to knock me into my locker. Quite the funny display of dominance, really.”
Piko ate a sandwich and brushed the crumbs out of his raven hair. He checked the time and sighed.
“I must leave now for school,” Piko–no, Peter now– said. He ruffled his brown curls to test his illusion. Peter grabbed his backpack and shoved his books in it. “Bye, Dad.” Peter gave Loki a quick hug and cleared his throat. It was weird to talk like a Midgardian.
Peter was engulfed in a white light, and he disappeared. He had teleported down to the garage, where Happy nearly had a heart attack. Peter climbed in innocently.
“Jesus, kid, stop doing that!” Happy grumbled. “First Loki was doing it, and now you! I could have sworn I told him not to teach you that!” Happy grumbled some more, and closed the little window that separated the front seats from the back seats.
Peter leaned his head against the window and listened to the road sounds.
—
At school, Peter met up with his favorite Midgardian people: Ned and MJ. Peter Parker was actually kind of in love with MJ, but Piko Lokison knew better than to marry a Midgardian. Dreams would be dreams, he guessed.
“Ok, so,” Ned started, “I got the new Lego Deathstar set!”
“No way!” Peter exclaimed. For the sake of Ned, Piko had watched the entirety of Star Wars so that Ned would have someone to talk to about wild theories and favorite characters. Piko found that the Star Wars movies were scarily inaccurate in how space works, but they got a few things right.
“Yes way, do you want to come over and build it with me?”
Peter thought for a moment. He wasn’t sure his illusion would be able to hold up for that long, since he often found himself tired out near the seventh period class. Maybe…
“We’ll see. I have to go home after school, my dad is expecting me back,” Peter stated.
“Is it the Stark Internship?” Ned asked.
“What? No, you know that isn’t real.”
“Oh.”
Flash took the moment to saunter up to the friends, as if the words ‘Stark Industries’ summoned him forth from the pits of despair. Peter took no notice of him, and continued his conversation with Ned. MJ had been pretty quiet, since Star Wars was not her forte.
Flash was about to poke the fire of ‘OoOo PeTeR yOuR iNtErNsHiP iS fAkE!’ but MJ shut him down with a glare. She quickly sketched his pouting face into her notebook. Nobody likes me she wrote on the page, and circled it like a thinking bubble.
The bell rang a minute after Peter, Ned, and MJ were situated in their seats. Mr. Harrington droned on about something about cells.
This is horribly beneath me, Peter thought. He rested his head in his arms. Peter stayed wide awake, for if he fell asleep, his illusion would disperse. Poor Midgardians, confined to the science of their world. Heh, I’m so cool.
“I would like the AcaDec team to stay after school,” Mr. Harrington announced before the bell rang. “I know it isn’t on the schedule, but it’s important that you know today.”
Peter laughed. Mr. Harrington made it sound like they were fated to go on some quest. The bell rang, and the children and a god all left for their next class.
—
At lunch, Peter got the school-provided slop. It was a soggy turkey sandwich. It had been the most edible thing all week. Peter excused himself to the restroom. He made a move to the stall, closed the door but didn’t lock it, and vanished.
Peter greeted his father at their favorite restaurant. Loki had also cast an illusion upon himself. They looked like any other Midgardian father and son. Loki got them to-go burgers. Peter wolfed his lunch down.
“I think I’ve started to actually like Star Wars,” Peter said casually. “I mean, Ned basically forced it upon me, and has quizzed me on so many random facts that I feel like I sincerely like it now.”
“Ah,” Loki studied his son’s face, “I can tell you aren’t lying. What other Midgardian things have you taken a liking to?”
“Hm.” Peter eyed the ceiling. “Pizza and burgers. They do a wonderful job of filling my stomach. I also like the ‘dogs’ as the humans call them. They are so small!” Peter stood up and placed a hand at his stomach, about two or three feet off the ground. “The biggest one I’ve met is this tall! Oh, and the diversity of the dogs! So many to choose from. Small can get even smaller!” Peter squished his hands together, so that they were about three inches apart.
Peter didn’t know that AI could make pictures, so he believed to the fullest extent that dogs could be three inches small.
“Ah, yes, I also have taken enjoyment in the diversity of the dogs. I particularly like the fluffy ones,” Loki said. He pulled out the phone that Tony Stark had given to him. He pushed a few buttons on it, clearly struggling. “Augh, why did the Man of Iron give this wretched thing to me?” Loki muttered.
“Aha!” Loki had finally done what he was failing to do. “Look at this one!” Loki showed Peter a picture of a really fluffy, white and chubby, dog. It was playing in the snow. “If only the Man of Iron would allow dogs in the Tower. What a shame, I’d love to have one.”
A timer went off on Peter’s wrist watch. He frowned, as it was time to go.
“Love you, dad,” Peter said. He gave Loki a hug. Loki embraced his son happily. Peter retired to the restroom and teleported back to school.
Class resumed as normal. Flash was idiotic in his remarks. Saying things about how “Yeah, I know Tony Stark” or “Penis! Careful with that lab equipment! If you could read, it says for qualified use only!” and Peter’s favorite “I don’t know why you’d think Stark would give you an internship of all people. It’s only for college students! Or for smart people, like me.”
Peter scoffed at that fact. Flash was smarter than him, the two hundred year old god with the knowledge of the nine realms at his fingertips? Sure. Sure he was.
The bell rang, and Peter could feel the fatigue of magic eating at him. He excused himself to the bathroom once more, and sat in the stall. He undid his illusion and leaned his head against the graffitied stall wall.
Peter conjured a sharpie, as he always did. He doodled a little crocodile. It looked like it was lacking something, so he gave it his father’s horned crown. It was perfect. Peter admired all the little doodles and messages people had added to the wall.
Was here (something was scribbled out, perhaps by a teacher) on the toilet when Loki attacked New York. Loki’s a little (another redacted word).
Yeah! Why did they let him back on Earth at all?? Someone else had written below. Peter took his sharpie out and wrote his own message:
Loki isn’t horrible at all >:( He’s just misunderstood. He’s a good guy. Trust me.
Peter regretted writing it immediately. It was sharpie. What wasn’t coming off. Now whichever boy sat in this stall would know that there was a Loki-lover at the school. Dang.
Peter felt better now, and put on his facade once more. He mimed the usual bathroom activities: flush toilet. Wash hands. Dry hands. Good. Now leave.
But Flash stepped into the restroom before he could escape.
“Wuddup, Penis,” Flash rudely remarked. He shoved Peter out of the way, making him hit the wall hard. Ouch. Flash went into the stall that Peter had just come out of. He was apparently reading the graffiti, since Peter heard him laugh.
“Yo Penis! Did you write this? It smells fresh!”
“Nah, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Peter lied. Dang it! Peter pushed out of the restroom and quickly returned to class.
—
Mr. Harrington ushered all ten of the decathlon team members into the library. He had a big stack of papers in his hands and a mile wide smile.
Once everyone was situated around the general table area, Mr. Harrington exploded. Not literally of course.
“Our team, in celebration of our fifth year in a row of winning AcaDec nationals,” Mr. Harrington started, but gave a dramatic pause. “We have been granted a field trip to…” He started drumming his fingers on the edge of the table. Two total students followed his lead.
“Stark Industries!”