My fault (The true story of Ultron and a buncha chaos)

This Midgardian isn't as idiotic as most

POV: Loki

"Why did you want me to pick a story with you as the hero, then?" Peter asked. Peter, who had known who I really was all along, who'd cared enough to ask Tony to take me along, remembered my input about a random school project. It's nice to meet you, Mr. Loki. Who says that? When is it ever nice to meet a Loki? But this random Midgardian happened to care? I knew he was tricking me into something, but I couldn't help but take a liking to the young boy.

"Because no one knows they exist," I lied, as smoothly as when I was telling the truth.

"Look, kid, he's here because Odin didn't want him and Thor did," Tony said, which hit me hard for some reason. Not because Odin didn't want me, I knew that. Mother was probably the only reason they put me in the Asgardian prisons originally. Thoughts of mother I immediately pushed out of my mind, knowing there was no way I could possibly show any signs of grief in front of Tony. As for the kid, I still wasn't going to cry.

"This internship is legit though, right Mr. Stark?" Peter asked, somehow unfazed by being next to me, the closest anyone's ever gotten to world domination. "I'm not here because-"

"Yeah, you're just my intern, kid," Tony said dismissively. We walked in silence down the stairs, before Peter slaps himself in the face.

"Oh dang I forgot to tell Thor to say yeet," he said, sounding thoroughly disappointed. I was confused, to say the least.

"Yeet?"

"Do not tell Thor to say yeet," Tony said, sounding actually worried.

"What, is that a cuss word?" I asked, remembering one time I'd accidentally swore at the entirety of the Avengers, thinking the word meant something else.

"It's what you used to say when you throw things," Peter explained. "But people don't say it anymore. It's like fidget spinners."

"Fidget spinners?" I asked, remembering something about that on YouTube. About how it was "dead".

"Do not tell Thor to say yeet," Tony said seriously. "That will spark a constant flow of all the dead sayings from Cap because he thinks references are cool, when really he's being an old man."

Peter laughed, but I turned to Tony, matching his seriousness levels.

"I take great offense to that."

"Mr. Loki! Mr. Stark! Stop it! Help get help I'm dying-" Peter laughed harder, and I cocked my head at him, wondering if he knew what he was referencing. Obviously, he couldn't.

"Where are we going, anyways, Tony?" I asked as the kid recovered from his laughing.

"Well, I was thinking we could help this kid with his science project." He said, still looking plenty serious. "It isn't a science project, is it? What's it for?"

"I- I don't know, actually, sir," Peter said. He was a good liar. "I just felt like a project."

Tony laughed. "You sound like me, kid."

We walked into his usually off-limits lab, and I stared about in wonder. A couple of shiny iron man suits stood in a corner, one of them in suitcase mode. Holograms were commanded by Tony's hand movements, and I realize they're basically lame attempts at my illusions. A robotic arm moved up and down when we enter, making Tony smile.

"Yeah, DUM-E, hello. This is Peter," he said, forgetting all about yeet and whatever that is. "Peter, can you make me some coffee? The machine's right there-"

"Wow." I said, fulling turning around to take in the room. "This is... interesting."

"The word you're looking for's glorious, knowing you," Tony said, sitting on a swivel chair and pulling up some sort of holograms. I laughed.

"I mean interesting."

"Here you go Mr. Stark! Mr. Loki, do you want some too?" Peter has two mugs in his hand, one full of coffee, one empty.

"I'm more of a tea person," I said, taking the mug from him and setting it back in the cupboard under the coffee machine.

"So kid, I took your formula, and this is what it looks like," Tony said, gesturing to some web of string holograms I didn't understand. I pretended to listen and snuck a look at the iron man suits. I wonder if they were also lockdown coded... but I don't move to use them yet. For some reason, I wanted to stay near this boy. It helped me keep my mind off of Mother.

"Wow..." Peter said, looking at the web closely. "Do you think it looks sticky enough?"

"What do you want it to stick to?" I asked, trying again to sound in any way knowledgeable in the subject.

"Buildings. Helicopters. People. But not people's faces," he said, shrugging. "Pretty much everything but someone's airways."

"Well, that's sure easy," Tony said, but I looked at the webs closely. I couldn't tell much from it, but I could tell the strings were supposed to be the different materials.

"I would probably understand this better if we had the real thing," I finally said, brushing my hair behind my ear.

"Jarvis, we have everything, right?" Tony said, pushing the chair over to a desk and punching some things into a computer. There was tech everywhere. I really wish there was a dagger I could use later.

"Yes, sir."

"Wait-" Peter said in realization, "Mr. Stark, is Jarvis Mr. J?

"Yes he is, all thanks to me," I said.

"No, no, mostly thanks to you," Tony corrected.

"Can we just make Peter's... thingymawhatsitcalled?" I asked. Peter smiled nervously.

"I'm supposed to be helping you make stuff, Mr. Stark," he said.

"Well come on kid, let's just test this formula of yours," Tony said, waving a hand.

Peter reluctantly came over and Peter described what his "web shooters" were supposed to do with the different compartments. Tony messed with the holograms until they formed the sort of bracelet thing he'd described, and then he let Peter try it on somehow. These really are wannabe illusions, I thought.  It seemed to work, so Tony pressed some buttons and a machine in the corner started whirring.

"Why do you really need the web shooters, peter?" I asked after some time, and Peter looked at me with a very believable look of shock on his face.

"I said I just wanted a project," he said convincingly, but this time Tony must've been able to tell he was lying.

"It's okay, kid. We're not judging you here," he said, clicking a few more buttons on his computer. Peter sighed, took a deep breath, and jumped onto the ceiling.