Scenes I need…






Peter Parker: -on meeting Loki, offers his hand- Hi, I’m Peter!

Loki: -shakes his hand- Loki of Asgard.

Peter: Aren’t you like…a bad guy?

Loki: It varies from moment to moment.

Peter: So like…on a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst evil imaginable, like…killing puppies, and one being I’ll spit on your hotdog…where are you right now?

Loki: …maybe a three?

Peter: Cool. Lemme know if it gets above a six.

Loki: -thinking- I like him.

It had been a joke, a flippant line, but somehow, Loki found himself taking the youth up on it.

It was hard living around these heroic Avengers, hard trying to stay close to Thor. And when he felt his need for mischief rise too high, when he felt exasperation with these Midgardians turn too close to spite, he would casually say “Six.” to the young man, or sometimes “Seven.”

And Peter would spend the rest of his day with Loki. He would badger him with questions about magic, or drag him across his beloved city to see its entertainments, or take him along stopping petty crimes. He grounded Loki to the here and now, and distracted him from the churning, jagged shards of ice in his mind.


Stark’s brat had a system. It had been amusing, at first glance, especially when “killing puppies” was apparently a higher level of evil than trying to take over the world. It had risen and fallen – two, five, one. There were honestly good days.

It took some time before a truly bad day came up.

After a difficult battle, the Captain was being particularly sanctimonious, his team following suit. Even Stark made biting comments.

Loki could scream.

“Spider-man,” he said as calmly as he could. The young man glanced up, having been tying up some of their enemies a few yards away.


“… okay, guys, I’m going to head out with Loki for the rest of the day. Don’t need us for debrief, yeah?”

“Sure,” Stark shrugged, glancing between the two of them oddly. Loki wasn’t entirely sure what the plan was. They went in civilian clothes to a small café.

“I wasn’t paying attention, so whatever was said, I don’t agree,” Peter began. “But that’s not what I’m here for. So. When you teleport, how does that work? Is it harder with longer distances? Or is knowledge of the place more helpful?” Loki blinked, but explained. It led to a discussion of magical theory. Peter (Loki still called him Parker aloud, but the child and even his young friends grew on him in time) was eager and curious, comparing what he knew from Strange and fantasy books to Loki’s knowledge. It was admittedly fascinating to see how many versions of sorcery humans had created by mere imagination. He was definitely amused by the elves and dwarves of Lord of the Rings.

Sometimes Peter tentatively asked about Strange and Maximoff, if they were doing similar things. Never if Loki was at an 8 or above though.

“Strange is like a child prodigy. He’s good, picks the practical parts up well. He even got the jump on me – but he has not had as much time to study as me. He’s a student where I am a master. Maximoff is incredibly powerful and incredibly lucky, but she does not have much training at all.” Sometimes conversation turned to music, animals, current events.

Peter was good. It was odd, how Loki became so sure of the fact so quickly.

After the conversations, often accompanied with food or a walk, he was always down to a 3 or so. Which made Peter an important person.

So the next time Peter was in trouble and the Avengers were indisposed, Loki was not the least bit surprised that he was not the only one ready to tear someone apart for the kid. Two men in red – one with horns, one with guns and swords – a young girl with cat-shaped blasters on her hands, and the Captain’s assassin friend. Loki curled his lips and muttered:

“For anyone that harms you? 10.”

About C.A. Jacobs

Just another crazy person, masquerading as a writer.
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