#Math Nerd - Fall - 10 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

s-4pphics · 4 months ago

Text

the art of chasing. (e.w.) part I.

synopsis: how to: lose a lover.

word count: 9.5K

warnings: bratbaby!ellie who’s a math prodigy :), baby!oc who’s not but craves approval, SARAH IS ALIVE, mentions of: ANGST, time jump, joel is everyone’s dad — adoption, dead parents, narc parenting, internalized homophobia, outward homophobia, enemies to ?, idiots to ?, alcoholism, ellie’s a hopeless romantic, so is oc but she doesn’t know it, rebellious teenagers, FLUFF :)

a/n: heyyy. this idea came to me very randomly in january and i’ve been drafting it since then. it’s a two parter with a possible intermission but idk we’ll see. also, i hit 4k followers? thanks THE FAWK?

BYEEE

Since age ten, you’ve hated Ellie Williams.

You were naive like most children; too bright-eyed and bushy-tailed to manage, running amuck and causing any wreckage you could with your pudgy little hands. You lived to explore, much to your father’s dismay. He’s a stickler with too much sense, exactly like your irritating, speckle-faced classmate. Stubborn with an ego large enough to topple mountains.

The first time you met her, you’d been sobbing at the sight of blood on your skin.

You weren’t the fastest runner on the playground, but your classmates knew to never play hide and seek with you. You’d squeeze into the smallest crevices of your school's hallways and sit until recess was over and you were crowned the winner by your classmates when the bell rang. Your victory streak felt everlasting, three months of invisibility, it seemed until one day, a boy approached you — Jesse, a few inches taller and annoying, made it a challenge to discover your hiding spot. Younger you accepted any competition with grace, even moreso when Jesse’s friends bet that he’d pay you if he failed to complete the challenge… Your dad was very confused when you returned home with twenty bucks and a bag of Warheads that Friday. You don’t gamble, but what’s a little reward for upholding your legacy as the Best Hider? Your tactic was masterful, and while your classmates failed to find you, your piggy bank grew in size.

For the first term of fifth grade, recess was yours. Students of all grade levels were on a manhunt for you after lunch. The excessive searches got so bad that they limited your 10 second head start to 5, then 3, and even then, you were never caught.

Until Ellie.

You decided to switch it up one day: instead of going to your go-to hiding spot — in between the two giant pillars that separated the first and second grade classrooms — you decided to rush back towards the cafeteria and wait by the lunch tables. Call it hiding in plain sight. No one ever returned there after they finished eating; They were too busy pushing each other down the slide or searching for you on the field.

Your fall could’ve been caused by anything: an untied shoelace, your mind moving too fast for your feet, a crack in the blacktop. All you recall was laughing maniacally one second then sobbing harshly with a bloody knee the next. It barely hurt from your adrenaline, but blood had always freaked you out. You searched for anyone — a supervisor, a teacher, another classmate — but your cries weren’t loud enough to draw attention.

No one was a witness except the freakishly smart nerd that sat at the back of the classroom.

Ellie had been alone at the lunch tables, dirty sneakers kicked up with a sticker book in hand while she watched you cry completely stoic.

When you finally noticed her sitting there, you hoped your teary eyes would push her to get you some help, but when she squatted beside you with a taunting glance and pitying hand on your shoulder, you knew she sucked. Sucked really badly.

“That’s what you get for cheating. Everyone knows the lunch area’s off limits during recess.”

And then she hollered over Jesse and all his loser friends, exclaiming that she found you and everyone owed her whatever rewards they planned to give you. From that point on, you hated her. Whenever she spoke in class, won a tetherball match with her man hands, laughed too loud, you returned home with a chip on your shoulder and the urge to swing on her. Not only did Ellie take your money and treats, she dimmed your glory. The crown on your head was placed onto hers in a heartbeat, title going from Best Hider to Best Seeker, and all it took was one accident. Ellie swiftly became your obsession after that. How could such a loser loner be that snarky? Losers are often desperate for any form of human contact, so why wasn’t she? Everyone thought she was the coolest person ever yet she didn’t care. Her routine stayed the same: silently sit in class and obnoxiously be the smartest person in the room then walk exactly 20 feet in front of you when the day is over.

You’ll never forget the disgusted churns in your gut when you discovered she lives right across the street from you, and apparently had since you both were in kindergarten. If anyone at school found out that you religiously watched Ellie ride and fall(once) off her skateboard for a month straight, they’d probably group you too together for being the wackiest bitches in the neighborhood.

It’s been five years since that day by the lunch area, and still, Ellie’s mission of making you feel like gum stuck to the bottom of her shoe rages on. Every test, every presentation, every spelling bee, every race, she shows you up without breaking a sweat while you drag behind her using every bit of willpower you have left, and still, it’s never enough. She surpasses you in ways that almost seem impossible, your brain can barely grasp it.

She’s still mechanically organized, even as a teenager. On honor roll and a dickface. Isn’t high school the time to find yourself and not be a loser? Talk to boys and get a job and start driving—

“You look psycho. She’s not thinking about you. Give it a rest.”

Your best friend’s right as always, but your glare doesn’t get any softer. In fact, it hardens when Riley scoots directly in front of your vision so your eyes are on her and not Ellie.

“If I killed someone, would you help me hide the body?” You say, exasperated.

“No, bitch I wouldn’t,” she rolls her eyes, “You’re risking life in prison because she ruined the curve for our biology test?”

“She gotta 98. I dunno how campus isn’t up in flames right now. All these bitches are weak,” you shove a carrot in your mouth, “my dad’s gonna kill me.”

“I’ll come to the funeral.”

“That’s not funny. You know how he is! He’s gonna blow a fuse when my grade gets posted.”

Riley’s eyes shadow with sympathy. “Maybe you can ask for a retake? Mr. Johnson’s not as fucked up as—“

“Ms. Robinson.” You and Riley both shudder in disgust. Your first bio teacher had it out for you so bad, it seemed. Last semester was stupid rough because of her pop quizzes and accusations of cheating. If she hadn’t fell down the stairs and broken her hip, you’d be on academic probation by now.

“I’m not reliving that, Jesus… Are you comin’ later? Everyone’s asking where you’ve been.”

Every reminder that you're locked in your room while your friends cause ruckus throughout the town is like a knife to the chest. “Tell 'em I'll seem them inna month,” you smile sarcastically, “I can’t go anywhere until I get my D up in math… and English—“

“Bitch how do you have a D in English when we speak it everyday—“

“I know, okay, I hate essays! My brain can’t… I can’t sit there and write for too long. I feel like I’ll start going crazy looking at those little ass words! I needa stress reliever bad.”

Riley pouts and reaches for your hand, “I'll find you one and send it to your place, promise.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t. My dad might set it on fire to taunt me.” You snort, but Riley doesn’t. She never does when you talk about your dad. The sad look she always gives makes you uncomfortable. Your gaze falls onto your tray when she squeezes your hand.

“If you need to stay with me, you can. You know that, right?”

“… Yeah. Thanks.”

Riley’s a wishful thinker. Her family’s the sweetest: always inviting you over for holidays, her birthdays, sometimes your birthday when your dad deems you undeserving of celebration. They embrace you openly, and you’re forever grateful for their warmth, but the peace you experience in her household always ends in tears when your dad picks you. He’ll scream at you until his voice goes hoarse for running away even though you always ask for permission before going anywhere. The grudge he held onto after you snuck out one time in junior high weighs both of you down.

Your father doesn’t trust you, and sometimes when it’s late and you hear delirious mumbling in the hallways, you question whether or not to trust him.

The bell pulls you from your thoughts, and for once, you’re grateful that lunch is over. Riley’s gentle aura has a way of disarming you. You’re always unprepared whenever you trek the stairs to your porch; exposed and vulnerable.

Riley allows you to wallow in silence all the way back to class. Your academic reputation was never stellar, but you always believed you were smart enough to make it into college and find your purpose, but every year that passes, your attention span suffers, and no one understands how draining it is except you. You were naive to think you’d be able to confide in your dad about something like that.

Riley gives your hand one last squeeze before sliding through the door next to yours. Annoyance stabs in your spine when you catch Ellie already sat at the front of the room with her stupid fucking glasses and notebooks and sharpened pencils laid neatly on her desk. It’s like she lives her life to taunt you, force you to remember that you’ll never be as clever as she is. You’re sick just looking at her.

You fall onto your designated seat in the last row, the last bits of students clabbering in just as the second bell rings. Mr. Thomas is already scribbling a bunch of Xs and Ys on the board and attendance hasn’t even been taken. It’s one of those days, one of frantic note taking while you attempt to catch all the information he throws at you while Ellie glides through the lesson like knives through butter.

“Just like we reviewed last week, everyone! A point is a solution to a system of equations—“

You’re betting you won’t have a wrist by the end of class. What use are your notes if they end up looking like chicken scratch? You should know all of this, you’ve read these lessons so many times, so why’re you blanking when the question comes back to you?

“If we plug (3, 6) into our equations, will we have a solution?” Mr. Thomas points directly at you. It’s a simple yes or no question, and in retrospect, the equations aren’t that fucking hard but you can’t do it. Why can’t you solve this?

Y and X and equal signs mock you all across the white board. Just guess! There’s a 50% chance you’ll get it right. A betted yes is still a yes, anyway!

Exactly how a betted no is still a no. You’re fucked.

“Um…”

Say anything! Who gives a fuck if it’s wrong or right or whatever! So what if you can’t do algebra! When you leave here, you'll be so extraordinarily incredible at your job that you won’t need any of it! Most of the things you learn in school all go to waste anyway!

“… No?” You answer meekly, and your teacher’s eyes brighten.

“Correct!—“

Thank God, I thought I was gonna die—

“—Can you explain how?”

Oh, fuck my life

“Um… well… Uh…”

Your face burns from the stares of your classmates and your teacher and God himself. You stumble over your answer, saying a bunch of shit that you can hardly understand, all while the light in Mr. Thomas’ eyes slowly distinguish.

“I’m… not sure, Mr. Thomas.”

You swallow the lump in your throat when he gives you a pitying glance before asking, “That's alright! Does anyone wanna help our friend out?”

And of course, Ellie’s hand flies up just to spite you, and your efforts crash and burn.

“Yes, Ellie?”

“If 6 is Y, then the equation has to equal 6. 2 times 3 is 6 but adding 1 makes it 7. So no…”

“We don’t have a solution.” Her tone is so secure it strains in your ears. You might as well stand at the front of the class and let everyone shoot you with spitballs. That’d be less humiliating.

“Great job, Ellie! So that means—“

Frankly, you don’t give a shit what it means, you just want to leave. Be anywhere but here. Being home would actually feel more safe, despite the small voice in your mind claiming that’s a fallacy.

Class drags on and so does your writing. Whatever burst of energy you had at the start of class has been wrung to hell, finishing with a whopping one and a half pages of notes. Better than yesterday. Small victories.

After what feels like ages, the bell rings, and students disperse to wherever they're supposed to be. You throw your backpack over your shoulder, your feet carrying you even faster towards the door when the Devil speaks.

“—Thanks, Mr. Thomas. See you!”

“Bye, Ellie! See you tomorrow.”

She makes it to the door before you, already vanishing into the crowded hallways before a calm timbre yanks you back. You spin with the brightest smile. “Yes, Mr. Thomas?”

He stares disapprovingly, and you groan, “Can I go, please? I’m gonna be late—“

“I’ll write you a slip. I need to talk to you.”

Your lax demeanor masks the pounding in your chest well enough. Mr. Thomas crosses his arms over his chest before sighing, “what’s going on with you? You’re not usually this…”

“What, stupid?” You tort humorlessly.

“No! Not at all… Distracted, I suppose, but never stupid. Don’t say that again.”

“C’mon, Thomas, everyone knows it, it’s not a big deal. Some people are smart and some are dumb. It’s just how life goes.”

“There’s no such thing as a dumb student. Everyone learns at their own pace. That’s how life goes.” He scolds, “Do you need some extra tutoring—“

“No, actually, I don’t, thanks.”

He sends you a look that’s very father-like and you almost vomit, “I want to see you succeed, that’s why I’m here. There’s so many resources available that could be of use, yet you never take them. Why is that?”

You shrug in agitation, “I don’t know, Mr. Thomas. I’m trying, okay? I can handle whatever distractions I have on my own.”

“You know some of your friends can tutor you, right? It doesn’t have to be some strict meeting with a teacher. Some students in here are tutors. Ellie’s on a roll with—“

“Can we not discuss how much smarter my classmates are than me? I'd really appreciate it.”

He sighs disapprovingly, “That’s not my intention and you know it. There’s no shame in asking for help from people around you.”

“Is this a therapy session?”

“No, but the semester’s almost over. If you don’t pass your midterm and your final, you’ll fail the class, and you’ll be stuck with me for another year.”

You scoff at the insinuation of your demise, “Wow, thanks so much, Mr. Thomas,” His gaze turns sorrowful — pitying. Your feet already carry you towards the door. “Don’t worry about that slip by the way!”

You ignore the calls of your name before getting shoved into the ocean of students. There’s only one more class you have to sit through and you’re fucking free. Ellie’s not the only one you should look out for. Even teachers are becoming biased pests.

Just when you thought the walk home from school would be peaceful, mainly due to the fact that Ellie was nowhere to be found — not twenty feet ahead or behind you. You hoped her dad’s car got stuck in the open trench by the gas station.

But no, she’s already made it home — to your home, squatted beside her stupid blue bike with a flat tire, tirelessly reviving her ride with a pump that looks awfully familiar. She’s practically blocking the entire walkway. Your day cannot get any fucking worse.

You stand in front of her in annoyance, “Can you move?” She doesn’t reply, barely acknowledges you.

“Hellooo, Earth to dickhead, I’m trying to get home.”

“Go around.” She nods towards the street.

“What, so I can get hit by a car?”

“Hopefully.”

“Go away! You live over there!” Your finger jabs to her dungeon. “You could’ve pumped your own goddamn tire away from my domain!”

“I don’t wanna walk all the way back.”

“Back where?”

“To your house. Your dad let me use your guys’ pump.”

Red alarms sound in your head. Your dad allowed the enemy into your dominion? Rage explodes within you when playful green eyes pan over your entire form.

“That bothers you?”

“You bother me. I hate your guts and I always will. You know what you did to me.” You stomp around her worksite. Before you can kick your front door in, she hollers at you.

“I don’t actually, but alright. Make sure to let Thomas know.”

Your head whips in her direction, gaze searing trails of fire onto the sidewalk.

“What does Thomas have to do with anything?”

Ellie shrugs nonchalantly, “He emailed me earlier. Asked me to tutor you. Said you could use some extra guidance.”

She uses your shock to her advantage, pins you where you stand before rising to her full height. Her dirty fucking shoes pan through the dead grass of your yard.

“If you wanna flunk, keep doing what you’re doing. Stay up all night and read until your eyes bleed only to forget everything the second you get to class because you’re scared of being wrong,” her teeth shine underneath the afternoon sun, “nobody’s rooting for you, not even yourself. I’m your last shot at making a comeback. I’ll get you that C if you want it. All you have to do is say please.”

Flames of humiliation engulf you from head to toe. Never in your life have you had a stranger degrade you this strongly. Insults from family are always painful but after a certain point, you grow used to hearing what they don’t like about you. Ellie doesn’t know anything about you yet she’s reading you like that stupid scientology novel she always has in her backpack.

You don’t even have the wind to tell her to go fuck herself before yanking the front door open and flinging yourself inside. It slams when you fall back against it and you swear you hear scoffing from outside.

“Hey.”

Does he not notice your distress or is he simply uncaring? “… Hi, dad.”

“How was school?”

“Fun.”

“Sounds like it. I made pizza.” Little does he know, food is the last bit of your worries.

“Thanks.”

“Mhm.”

“Dad?”

“Yeah, hun.”

Am I a disappoint? Do you regret having me? Do you like me… I know you love me, but do you like me?

“… Did you buy some more hot honey?”

“Course, baby. On the counter.”

“Thanks.”

He nods at you before refocusing on the match. That’s as much conversation you’ll get from him until tomorrow. You reheat your pizza silently, mind focused on the fucking aggravating genius right outside your doorstep. You don’t want to be in range when she gives the bike pump back. The both of them might team up to demean you together.

Days like today remind Ellie why she misses her skateboard. Twelve-year-old her must’ve been in denial or incredibly lost when she begged Joel for a bicycle.

She hardly ever rides it anymore, it just sits in the corner of the garage collecting dust and cobwebs, but nostalgia hit her harder than usual today. Could be due to the change in weather, the cold always takes her back to those family getaways in the mountains. Not a day goes past where she doesn’t think about that deer she found laying in the snow when she was eight.

There aren’t many moments where Ellie gets to decompress: she’s always busy, drowned to the knee with novels and notebooks and annotation assignments or helping a classmate proofread their final papers. She doesn’t remember the last time she got home and simply wasted away doing nothing. There are parts of her that envy students who have that privilege, but every time her schedule slows for any reason, she grows antsy and her fingers twitch with eagerness to solve something.

That’s why she pulled this stupid bike out of the garage. She assumed taking a lap or two around the block would pass time, but she hardly made it down the driveway before her front tire started stuttering.

Why the hell did she think asking your dad for that pump was a good idea? Not that Ellie cares if you do or not, but it definitely wasn’t her smartest moment. She’ll get you one of these days. Catch you when you least expect it and press about your fucking issue with her because, frankly, she’s been confused for half a decade.

Not that you’d ever care, but you’re not Ellie’s cup of tea either. You’ve been the same since you were five: loud and reckless with unpredictable mood swings. You just… do shit, and Ellie despises nothing more than people that just do shit; Your brain runs on impulse. You never see the world past your little bubble, and there’s a reason why people are so prone to pop it for you. Every move you make feels spiteful, especially if Ellie catches you in the act. You’re always there, staring at her, watching her with conviction. She’s provoked every time.

It's gotten easy to ignore your bombarding personality. You’re ignorable, but you got her out of character today. She hates stooping down to your level but you took her there once again, and she’ll resent you for that like always.

She feels hollow knocking on your front door. Her brain won’t stop replaying what you said and what she said and this is why she loathes interacting with you.

The door opens and she realizes she was holding her breath.

“Hey, Ellie! Your bike alright?”

“Yeah, I uhh… yeah, sorry,” she extends the pump and your dad accepts it graciously, “Thanks.”

“Anytime… Hey, you have class with my daughter, right?”

A few every year. It sucks. She nods.

“How’s she doin’? She looked real down today.”

Yeah. Because she sucks. “I’m not sure. I don’t really pay that much attention to be honest.”

“Of course, ‘cause you actually do what you’re supposed to in class! I wish she was more like you!” He’s laughing but Ellie’s not, hiding her discomfort with a stiff smile.

“Thanks again,” she points towards the bike pump before shifting away from the door, “have a good night.”

“You, too!” He grins, “if you see anything outta the ordinary, don’t hesitate to let me know!” Ellie nods with a stiff wave. Her feet couldn’t carry her off your porch fast enough.

The door shuts, and Ellie releases the second breath she’s held since speaking to you. There’s an icky feeling in her stomach, distaste in her mouth, but she can’t pin where from. Her bike wheels whine the entire walk back to her house. 40 feet suddenly feels like 10 miles.

She uncaringly drops her bike beside her dad’s truck before entering the house.

“Is the alien invasion upon us?”

Ellie’s replies dryly, “Could be.”

“I’ll be damned! Come in here for a second, Ellie. I need your help with somethin’.”

She sighs before reluctantly entering the kitchen where Joel leans, practically bent over the counter with a rubber-gloved hand shoved down the drain.

“Compromising position.”

“Shut up, c’mere… I may or may not’ve dropped a fork in here ‘n I can’t reach it…”

“Dude, again?” Ellie grabs the lone rubber glove that rests on the counter.

“Don’t give me that! I’ve had enough shit-talkin’ from Sarah.”

Ellie’s eyes go sparkly, “She here?”

“Not yet, kiddo. She just called earlier, she misses you.”

“She didn’t call me.” Ellie pouts. It’s weird, to go from living across the hall from somebody for so many years then only seeing them twice a year if that. When Sarah left for college, Ellie was devastated, excited, anxious, sad all over again. She’s everything Ellie desires to be: intelligent, talented, tall, pretty. In some ways, Sarah’s filled the vacancy that was reserved for Ellie’s mother. Joel’s a great parent and she loves him to death, but he’s not a girl, and there will always be something that he simply doesn’t understand no matter how hard he tries. Sarah will always be Ellie’s greatest blessing. Home is home — home is comfort, but without Sarah… there’s an emptiness in these four walls that fit the shape of her perfectly. Joel feels her absence, too. Ellie notices his longing whenever she catches him searching Sarah’s old room when they’re folding laundry.

“Compromising position.” Joel mocks when Ellie’s smaller hand shoves inside the garbage disposal in search for the missing fork. She throws him a middle finger and he laughs, deep and hearty.

“You’re quiet today.” He says suddenly, and Ellie stiffens a bit, eyes glued onto clean stainless steel.

“Always quiet, old man.”

“Well, yeah… something’s bothering you. What happened?”

“Just school stuff, nothing crazy.” She definitely won’t, and she partially blames herself for her own damning. You seemed so upset before you slammed the door in her face. It didn’t matter if you were on your last legs, ever since middle school, you’ve always gotten the last word, and Ellie’s always caught scrabbling for a rebuttal.

Joel hums. Ellie nearly chokes on air when he inquiries,

“What, you gotta girlfriend?”

“What the hell, no, of course not, are you serious—“

“Damn… I was kiddin’ but I think you actually might, you’re all cherry-faced! What’s her name! Is she coming over for Christmas!—“

Ellie pulls the butchered fork free from the disposal with all her strength before tossing it and the glove on the counter. Joel’s hysteria weighs his shoulders down, wiping the joyful tears from his eyes.

“I’m going to bed.” Ellie states stoically.

“AWW, C’MON! IT’S NOT EVEN 6 YET!” She rolls her eyes when his wheezing starts back up.

Ellie leaves trails of fire all the way up the stairs, Joel’s giggly apologies and begs for her to come back silencing when her door shuts. Her palms find the caves of her eyes. Her body betrays her, brain pleading to climb underneath her mattress and sleep away the stress of today while her fingers itch to craft or sketch or repair anything.

… She should’ve been nicer to you. Fuck.

Her thoughts leap from point A to B: go apologize, help you pass math, go your separate ways for the rest of forever. But you could’ve been nicer to her, also. Why won’t you just be nice?

Ellie goes against her better judgement and nearly sprints to her window. When she yanks her blinds down just enough to peep through, she locates the glass that guards your room.

She swears she’s not some fucking weird pervert. She’s just checking to see if you’re alive and ripping up your favorite posters like you always do when you’re mad about something. But there’s no movement from your end and it’s dark where you stay. Are you sleeping? Are you on your phone? Are you…

Did she make you sad?

Anger is different — that comes about as naturally as being happy for you, but she hasn’t seen you cry since elementary school. Why does her heart start thrashing when she envisions your red eyes and tear-soaked pillow? Ellie doesn’t like you but she doesn’t want that. Maybe she desired to see you crack when you were little but that was because…

Ellie doesn’t fucking know what she felt at the time. Agitated that everyone liked you so much, annoyed at how loud you laughed in class. Envious of your light. You were so bright — annoyingly so, shining your blasphemous rays everywhere, blinding everyone in your vicinity. There’s no way you’d give anyone the power to dim your shine.

That aggravating feeling blooms in her chest when she thinks about the amount of times she’s tried to do just that, and something tickles in her throat. It’s too thick to swallow down and she takes that as a sign. Enough sight-seeing for today.

She plummets face first into her mattress, groaning in annoyance when her cheeks catch flame. You drive her insane. You and your adorable fucking nose.

Just when she thinks she’s calmed down, knocks echo from outside her door.

“Kid… Can I come in?”

Ellie’s tempted to say not right now, but she forces herself up to open the door for him. Sorrow flashes in Joel’s vision. “M’sorry, kiddo, ‘bout earlier. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“You didn’t, today just sucked.”

“Talk t’me.” He implores gently. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I just…” Ellie shrugs lamely. Why is it so easy to talk to him about everything but you? “I don’t wanna talk about it right now. I will, but not now.”

He sighs, and she knows he’s concerned, but he doesn’t pry. “Okay, baby—”

“Can I have a hug?” Ellie coughs to mask the crack in her timbre, and Joel embraces her without hesitation. His hold is strong and it brings her solace. For the time being her mind silences, and shoulders aren’t as tense.

Hold onto this until tomorrow.

Until she sees you again.

School has always been predictable.

You come in, you sit for hours and run for one, and you leave with nothing, everything, and the little specks in between. You knew math would be a little awkward after your conversation with Mr. Thomas — you expected him to call on you more often to answer questions or say your name obnoxiously loud during attendance, but the patronizing never came. You took it as him sparing you until the following day until you received an email from him during your last period asking to speak with you. Much to your mistake, you accepted.

Never during your entire high school career did you think that you’d be stuck getting scolded by your favorite teacher with Ellie Williams sitting right next to you. What a turn of fucking events.

“You’re not spending another year with me. You’re going to do better,” Mr. Thomas’ tone is gentle with a sharp edge, but it’s not degrading, “my friend here is willing to help you get to where you want to be. I feel this will be beneficial for both of you.”

Your teacher gestures to Ellie who’s annoyingly fidgety: messing with the loose strings from the slits in her jeans. You’re doing a stellar job at keeping your distaste in check. No need for another scolding.

“Tell you what. If you pass the midterm, I’ll throw a pizza party.”

“I hate tomatoes.”

“… Then we’ll have a to-be-determined party.”

“Hooray.” You grab your stuff and stand, slinging your bag over your shoulder, “anything else, Thomas?”

“Yes. Be nice to each other. We’re all friends here.” For once, his statement is for both of you. It’s a little comforting. At least you’re not the only one being corrected for adjustment.

“Let’s go.” You say to Ellie who follows in your lead. You’re already out the door before she can finish saying her goodbyes.

You only slow when rushing feet pitter from behind. When Ellie catches up, neither of you speak. You guess you don’t have to. She’s only scheduled to study with you for an hour anyway, there’s no need to waste it on pointless conversation.

You only set one boundary.

“Can we study at your place?”

Ellie pauses before nodding. The silence upholds the entire walk to Ellie’s house. She takes a deep breath before unlocking her front door. “My dad’s working, so… yeah. It’ll actually be quiet when we’re studying.”

You say nothing. You set your backpack on the kitchen table to grab your math book and pencils. Ellie takes a seat beside you with her own notebook, opening it to the lesson from today.

“Midterms are usually easier than finals, there's not as much to remember, so… um, what area are you struggling in?”

An insecure itch squiggles in your nose and you scratch it. You shrug and play with your eraser.

“We can do,” she flips through her pages, “x,y solutions if you wanna, just to start. They were from Thomas’ review the other day.”

Your cheeks heat at the memory. Suddenly there’s thirty pairs of eyes on you all over again. “Sure, Ellie.”

“Okay.” She turns to a fresh page before scribbling and her handwriting is perfect. The equation is familiar and easy. You were half expecting her to give you some crazy shit to kick off. She slides her notebook beside you and you don’t hesitate to input the values. You allow her to examine your work with a dry mouth.

“That’s right.”

Goosebumps rise on your skin and your cheeks go warm and you don't know why.

“Uh, good job, I’ll give you something harder.”

She adds another equation onto the page for you to complete but you’re not paying attention. Ellie’s hands are very large. She’s always had freakish man hands but the definition in her veins is much more prominent than in sixth grade. What the fuck? Her pencil looks like a needle in between her fingers. They look so out of place on her dainty wrist, not that you care.

“Uhh… hello.”

“What.”

“You can do it now. Solve it.”

“… Okay.”

The question in front of you is the same format as the first one, but the numbers are bigger and there’s even more letters and addition signs and your chest plummets onto the hardwood. Your eyes anxiously find Ellie’s who stares back in confusion.

“What’s the matter? Need help?”

You swallow and almost choke from the dryness. You just did this problem. The structure is the same, the process of solving is the same, but you're too focused on how Ellie’s going to react to you messing up. She’ll probably brag about how it’s not that hard and berate you about how you’re not that stupid. Perfectionists like her — like your dad are ruthless. Their superiority complex makes them yell and scream insults at you because you’ll never be where they are. You'll never be a match for their genius and in turn, they choose to resent you.

So you wait for the low blows, the hollering, the threats of punishment. You wait and wait but she doesn’t say anything until she does.

“Hey… you okay?”

“What do you think, Ellie?”

Tension pulls at her brows, “what do you mean?”

In hindsight, she’s done nothing wrong up until this point, she's staring a little too hard for your liking. She’s the only one here, you have no choice but to give her the spotlight she loves so badly. Anything to get it off you.

“This is probably fun for you, watching me fuck up in real time. Is that why you agreed to do this for me? For an ego boost?”

Why does she say your name like you’re hurting her? She’s never sounded so wounded; always prepared to strike back whenever you give her unfiltered attitude, retaliating until she’s blue in the face and you’re storming off in the opposing direction.

“I don’t care if you mess up. I’m here to help you, why don’t you get that?”

“Because when have you ever given a shit if I do well or not? I’ve been a delinquent since we met, why are you so interested now?”

She scoffs and tosses her pencil in annoyance. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Apparently I’m the only one that missed the memo of hating your guts. News fucking flash, I don’t and I never did. Whatever shit you made up about me in your head isn’t my problem to fix,” she closes her notebook with more force than necessary, “if you don’t want my help then tell Thomas so he can get off my back about it. Find somebody else to teach you or don’t or whatever, I don’t care anymore.”

...

… Oh.

It could be the way she’s staring at you: eyes stern, self-assured and her voice heavy, a bit deeper than expected when she’s aggravated, and the spots on her face compliment the red hot that burns in her cheeks, but you have very little — actually nothing to say, and it’s not for the reason you expected. You’re stunned into silence, and that confuses her: she half-expected you to take that pencil you hold and stab her through the neck, but you don’t. You don’t storm off, you don’t talk shit, you just sit and examine her face with a faraway look she’s never seen from you before.

“What?” She implores when you stare too long for comfort, and there’s a lengthy, tender tug in your chest.

You’re positive the end of the world is coming in the next ten seconds. None of the Earthly shit you’ve experienced will matter in the afterlife and the world you know will cease to exist and you’re thankful for that. You don’t think you’d be able to live any longer with the knowledge that you viewed Ellie in an incredibly different manner during her winded, angered dialogue. There’s a weird fluttering sensation in your stomach and your heart sits at the base of your throat. It waves over your body with an unfamiliar intensity and all you can do is gawk at the girl who took your breath.

“I— I’m…”

“You’re what? What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m… I think I should go.” You’re already shoveling your things into your backpack, and Ellie’s insanely puzzled.

“Wh—“

“Sorry. I just got lightheaded all of a sudden,” you sling your back over your shoulder before neatly pushing the dining chair in. You’ve never pushed in a chair in your life.

“Are you… are you good? Do you need me to walk you back?”

Her concern makes your tummy burst into flutters, “I'll be fine. Same time tomorrow?” You force down the dreaminess in your voice as Ellie follows close behind.

“Um… okay? I guess, I thought you—“

“I think we should start over.”

It’s almost comedic how far Ellie’s eyes bulge from her skull. Why do you feel so featherlight all of a sudden? “Let’s forget today ever happened and start fresh tomorrow? Is that cool?” Never once in your life have you cared if Ellie was cool with any of your plans. Who are you right now?

“I — well, yeah… cool, I guess. Are you sure you’re okay? You’re acting really fucking weird right no—“

You squeeze the lone book closer to your chest. “I’m fine, trust me. Goodnight.”

When you open the door, Ellie’s dad is on the other side struggling to find his keys in his work bag. He smiles down at you in surprise.

“Hey, kid! It’s been a while, how’ve you been! How’s dad?” Only Ellie notices the wavering looks he shares between you and her. You smile, “been good, dad’s fine. I was just heading out. Thanks again, Ellie.” You say one last time before politely brushing past Mr. Miller, leaving Ellie to simmer and question what the fuck you took before you got here.

When you're finally out of sight, Joel gives Ellie a knowing look, and she almost throws up from giddy nerves. Or full fleshed anxiety. Whichever ones worse.

Is it possible to lose your mind before its fully developed?

You knew something was off when you set an alarm for five-thirty in the morning to get ready for school despite getting two hours of sleep in, yet still, you felt rejuvenated. You freshened up with your favorite body wash, plucked your brows, did a facemask, wore something that wasn’t the prior evening's pajamas. For the first time in your life since elementary school, you were excited to start the day and be productive. You don’t know why.

Purposefully ignoring your change in attitude due to your neighbor is your favorite pass-time.

You’re not sure what the hell happened to you at Ellie’s house, but it definitely solidified that you’re clinically insane. Delusional enough that whenever she meets your eyes in class your breathing pattern goes wonky. She nodded at you in greeting during English class and you nearly fainted. What the fuck has happened to you?

Ellie was everything you detested less than 48 hours ago and now she’s leaving you with unrest that isn’t entirely displeasent. It makes you warm and tingly like a cup of warm tea on a cold morning. That’s not what you expected forgiveness to feel like, but it’s nice. Comforting.

You didn’t see Ellie during lunch, and much to Riley’s confusion, you were disappointed. You and Ellie are nowhere near friends, but you’re trying, and she seems to be receptive to your efforts. In her own little geeky, awkward way. Might as well show your appreciation. She’s helping you out after all.

After years of depending on Riley for emotional stability, you could use someone new.

So you wait perched up against the front of the school for your tutor. The anticipation makes you jittery, pacing across the small grass plain, kicking lone rocks, telling yourself to calm the fuck down because you’ve walked home with her since you were nine only this time around you’re not seperate but together—

“Sup.”

You whip around at the call of your name, “hi.” You’re cheesing, can’t help it. Forgiveness is a great feeling. Ellie barely smiles back but it’s a start.

“Um, we’re still at your house, right?”

“Mhm, why, wanna go to yours?”

“No!”

Ellie flinches, and you scramble to recover. “I mean… I’d rather not, sorry. I’d just… rather not.”

She eyes you skeptically before relenting. “… Okay.”

“Shall we?” You gesture to the path to your neighborhood, but before you can lead the way, a hand clamps around your bicep, firm and stilling with something softer. You can’t move, and you don’t want to, the only proof of life being the constant palpitations in your ribcage.

“Are you listening?”

Nope. “Sorry, what?”

“I asked if we’re, like… I don't know, good? Are we okay? I don’t know what’s happening, you’ve been so…” Her sentence trails, unsure of how to describe the arc you’re on. The arc of forgiveness.

“Ellie… I forgive you for what happened in fifth grade. And everything after.”

She squints. “What?”

“I forgive you… I’m just hoping you forgive me, too?”

“Uh… yeah… I forgive you, sure.” And she wears it so well. Her dirty shoes don’t bother you as much anymore. Joy thrums from the deep workings of your heart. “Friends?”

“… Sure?”

“C’mon then, friend. We got some math to do.” You squeal and throw your arms around her. She tenses but doesn’t push you off.

You hold her the entire walk, and some time during, she relaxed into you.

Ellie never thought she’d fall victim to an alien abduction and end up trapped in another dimension with a nice you, but she’s here, and surprisingly, she’s enjoying it. The one secret she’ll never tell.

She’s not sure where this switch up came from, and honestly, she’s scared to find out, but she can’t help but be drawn to the shyer, timid side of you. Whenever she encourages or applauds your efforts on paper, your eyes go wide and glossy, and her heart squeezes in delight.

There are times when she’s speaking, like now— light introductions about graphing parabolas, where she catches you mindlessly glancing over her features. She didn’t mind it initially — merely assumed that staring was your studying tic, but the longer she teaches, the deeper your gaze becomes, and the more uncomfortable she grows, even more than her disappointment whenever you look away.

“Does that make sense?” She finally croaks when she finishes her graph, and you nod like you have no idea what she just said but simply can’t be bothered. She can’t help the upturn of her lips.

“Can I test you?” She asks, and her heart thumps when your lashes flutter. She doesn’t wait for your response before creating a function table on the spot — albeit more complicated, but she needs to see if you’re progressing.

When you take the pencil out of her hand and start scribbling, she can’t help but stare now. She watches you work silently, eyes cascading over your focused vision, each twitch of your nose, how you bite your bottom lip in thought. You erase and correct whatever mistake you’ve written and Ellie can’t the tiny smile that rises in her cheeks. Recognizing that something could be wrong is a telling sign of improvement. The kitchen is suddenly awfully warm.

You exhale before setting the pencil flat on the table and sliding Ellie the graphing paper.

“Don’t be nervous.” She comments when you start fidgeting with your eraser.

You scoff, “can’t help it.”

Ellie rolls her eyes before scanning your work. When she notices the messy erasing on your graph lines, she snickers — she’s not grading you on how perfect the lines are but that didn’t stop you from fixing them at least seven times.

“What, I failed?”

“Nhm… it’s correct actually. Impressive.”

“Impressive. What are you, 50?” You mock playfully.

“Shut up, people see graphs and start pissing themselves, you did good.”

“I was one of those people.”

“And now you’re not, just needed a little elbow grease.”

“Elbow grease! You are 50, good God almighty.”

Ellie scoffs. “Elbow grease isn’t an old saying! It’s used in every hard-working context.”

“Oh, brotherr—“

“Shut up!” You and Ellie’s laughter blend together. The rest of your lesson resumes with such and Ellie couldn’t be more grateful.

Time passes with delight, and before either of you know it, Joel is unlocking the front door while Ellie helps you organize your books. Neither of you notice his observing, and he’s thankful; Ellie would probably throw a fit if she caught him lurking, but he can’t help the glee he feels whenever Ellie laughs, and she's in hysterics with every joke you crack. Out of all the students that have visited the house, you’re the only one that’s garnered such a reaction out of his daughter. She's usually serious in a school-related setting, but you encourage her benevolence.

“Hey Mr. Miller!” You wave and Ellie sighs.

“Hey, kid… how’s the lesson going?”

“Fine. We just finished.” Ellie says with the hopes that he’ll relocate so she can walk you out without hassle.

“I think I’m getting smarter, Miller!”

“You were already smart.” He charms, and you blow a playful raspberry. Your bag strap rests on your shoulder and Ellie leads you to her front door.

“We should do something fun, Ellie.” Her and Joel’s ear perk at the same time at your invitation. The two of you cautiously eye the older man who scurries into the living room.

“… Like what?” She’s suddenly nervous, eyes flitting wherever yours aren’t.

“I don’t know, but I’ve been grounded and I’m bored. If I show my dad some of the work we’ve been doing he’ll probably let me off! Do you like arcades?”

A noise reminiscent of a heart monitor flatlining blares in Ellie’s head at your inquiry. You’re asking her to spend time with you outside of school? She fucking loves arcades but she can’t say that because her jaw’s on the floor.

“… Ellie?” You say, and she nods stupidly, but that doesn’t soothe the small flash of dejection in your eyes. “You don’t have to go. I was just asking.”

“NO!”

You flinch away from her and Joel hollers for Ellie from the living room to check in.

“I’M FINE!” She screams before looking at you, “Not no, I mean yes… I mean I’d love to! I’d love to go to an arcade,” her lips snap shut before she allows a with you to escape, “They, uh… there’s one not too far from school. We can just walk there after.”

When you smile, her heart throbs. Every time you smile at her, the organ cracks open in her chest to leave a spot just for you. She’s already plotting her own academic bribery so your dad can release you from confinement.

“Cool. I’ll ask Riley if she wants to come.”

Ellie’s mind whirs at the mention of a third. Riley’s nice; you all share English together, and though she and Riley don’t speak often, she never fails to give Ellie kutos on her writing skills whenever they peer edit. Riley is nice. She shouldn’t feel so disappointed that you’re bringing a friend on your…

She’s too ahead of herself. She was stupid enough to think that you’d wanna go on a date with her after a decade of bickering bullshit. That’s a result of swallowing down your crush for years out of fear of being rejected. She doesn’t even know if you like girls. She doesn’t know if you like anyone. If you do, you never disclose it.

“… You good?”

Ellie blinks rapidly, “Yeah, m’good, sorry. That sounds fun.”

With your phone already in hand, you say, “gimme your number.” You don’t comment on the shakiness in Ellie’s voice when she recites her digits. When her phone dings on the table, you mumble, “Text me, okay?”

“Yeah… promise.”

Is this flirting? Ellie doesn’t know — granted, she couldn’t tell the difference between right and left with a compass at the moment, but the fuzziness in her head is enough to convince her that your smile is more than friendly. Or she’s fucking delusional, could be one or the other. Both or neither. Regardless, she really doesn’t want you to go—

Wait, what.

“Night,” you say so softly she almost misses it, and she replies just the same. When the door clicks shut, Ellie’s forced to sit with the irreversible concave you’ve left in her chest. Her head rests against the door to gather herself, long enough to garner the attention of her dad.

“Somethin’ you wanna tell me?”

“I don’t think want is the right word.”

Who wants to come clean about their repressed infatuation with their sorta friend? Certainly no one sane, but Ellie hasn’t felt normal since the beginning of the month.

When she finally picks herself up, she finds Joel propped against the wall with his arms folded, an inquisitive look in his eye. You’ve piqued his interest. Fuck.

“We’ve never really talked about those lessons.”

“Nothing to talk about.”

“… Alright.” He sighs in mock defeat, “you know I won’t push you, but Christmas is ‘round the corner and I think it’d be best to plan somethin’ for your new frie—“

“I think I like her.”

It’s said with such anguish; a fear of unrequited affection that slammed into her out of the blue, but it’s unrepairable now. Her next breath wobbles and Joel’s by her in an instant, large hands cradling her scorching cheeks. Her eyes water in embarrassment so she keeps them glued downward.

“C’mon now, darling, look here.” Joel encourages softly, and Ellie reluctantly matches his gaze, a lone tear sliding down her cheek. He doesn’t hesitate to catch it with his thumb.

“Whatever you’re feeling is a hundred percent normal. I’ve never seen you like this about somebody, it’s meant to be.”

“… What if she doesn’t like me?”

“I don’t think that's the problem, baby. She goes all doe-eyed when you’re explaining… quantum theory or whatever the hell—“

Ellie can’t hold her laugh, and her shine cracks Joel’s smile even wider.

“Wanna call Sarah?” He suggests gently, and Ellie nods.

“C’mon, we got some story to tell.”

Two weeks until your incoming doom. Or midterms if simplified. Fuck.

The closer the day gets, the more anxiety-riddled your lessons with Ellie become. Your new friend is incredibly reassuring, especially after you nearly toppled her to the ground in celebration of your D turning into a D+ after your last 3 assignment postings. Not only did you complete your math homework by yourself, but your answers were correct without cheating.

Your dad told you ‘good job’ during breakfast this morning and you cried on the way to school. Happy tears. Accomplished tears. He finally thinks your efforts are worth something.

… Maybe even worth a trip to the arcade?

You don’t discuss your tutoring sessions with him that often, but he’s aware that Ellie’s aiding you to success. You know he respects her — sometimes you think more than you, but whatever — so maybe, just maybe, he won’t be against pausing your punishment for one night.

You use your text threads with Ellie as an emotion stabilizer on the walk home. Fried memes and screen recordings of her Roblox fights are doing wonders for your thrashing heart. You can see your home and your dad’s truck in the driveway.

Each step up the porch stairs is torture.

You’re not shocked to find your dad on the couch eating popcorn. It’s routine at this point, and somehow, that makes your nerves worse.

“Hey, hon. Hungry? I made mac and cheese.”

Your stomach growls as if commanded.

“Um… can we eat together?”

His eyes unglued from the television and fell onto you, widened with shock at your proposal. Neither of you remember the last time you ate at the same table.

He pauses before mumbling.

“Of course we can.”

Something kick starts within your dad; he’s up and setting the table with a nice cloth and decorative plates, the fancy golden forks and spoons that are reserved for guests that never show, thick napkins, all with the dish of crusted mac and cheese set in the middle.

You both have washed up and changed, in fresh pjs and clean hands. Your dad eagerly fixes your plate first.

“How was school, honey?”

A pang hits deeps in your chest at the empty memory. It’d been your mother’s birthday and you and your dad had planned a celebratory dinner for her. The same exact meal; mac and cheese, broccoli, and chicken, then pie for dessert because she hated cake. Served the exact same way every year until it was no longer necessary.

“Great.” Because for once, school is great. School is cordial.

“I checked your grades.”

Your chest plummets but you reach for your fork to mask it. You’re aware of where your grades lie due to your obsessive reviewing.

“My grades aren’t accurate, not yet at least,” you begin rambling in efforts to appease, “there’s still assignments that haven’t been graded yet—“

“You’re making a comeback. Good job.”

… Shit.

Two praises in one day? The only time you’ve felt this accomplished was when you’d ridden your scooter for the first time without eating dirt. He bought you ice cream after.

You were seven. It couldn’t have been that long without some form of encouragement.

Could it?

“I actually wanted to talk to you about that.”

“M’kay.”

“You know Ellie’s been tutoring me, and uh, she’s really good at it. Obviously...”

He’s nodding but his eyes are piercing.

“I… I thought I’d thank her. I’m on a really good track because of what she’s been doing and… yeah.”

“How are you going to thank her?”

You swallow down any hesitance.

“The arcade after school. Her… her ‘n me. And Riley.”

“And Riley.” He repeats detachedly.

The fire in your cheeks is enough warning that this was a mistake.

“When were you planning on going?”

“Um… Friday night.”

“What time.”

“After school.”

“And when would you be back?”

“Um… it closes at 8… so 8:30?”

His gaze drops down to his untouched plate, then yours. He relishes in the silence while you decay right in front of him.

“Seven.”

“Huh?”

“Be home by seven.”

Your chest flurries with excitement and appreciation and everything you haven’t felt for your father in so long.

“Thank yo—“

“I need you to understand something.” His sternness crushes your smile.

“This isn’t some pass for you to go behind my back and do bullshit. The second you get home, the routine is back. You go and study with her and come back here. No funny shit, do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

Your meekness doesn’t satisfy him. “Do you understand me?”

“I understand, dad.”

He nods once before grabbing his fork.

“Eat your food.”

#ellie williams au #ellie williams #ellie williams angst #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #lesbian #works ��࣪#ellie williams tlou

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lara4eclipze · 9 months ago

Text

“teach me”

sypnosis; you weren't exactly dumb but we're lazy yet when she started teaching you your grades went up—what did she do to make that happen

cw; age gap! y/n is 19 Lara is 23 , mean , teasing , smut , face sitting , dirty talk ,spoiled and rich y/n, inspired by this

original idea;@ivemiese / thankss

ALSOO happy birthday my love Lara!! , I'm so happy she's turning 19!! , gosh heres a birthday fic for the rajberries!

to say you were failing was an understatement your grades were plunging down the toilet yet you didn't do anything to change it

your parents were rich anyways you'll get the company by 5 more years , there's no point in studying

well your parents cared about your grades , tutor after tutor yet nothing worked , either you were mean to them or they quit out of pity for you

"mom I told you already these tutors are just not helping" you pout to your mom knowing she'll always fall for it

"well I still got you one — my friend Mitra recommended her to me" your mom sighs

you grunt in frustration, running up to your room muttering some profanity under your breath

—ʚɞ

school was as boring as everyday , you hated this place I mean you went to a very expensive university yet you can't seem to find people you would like to interact with

"disgusting" you scoff as an student accidentally bumps into you

after school was as worse, well atleast now you can rot in bed or go in a shopping spree

"darling your tutor came early today , shes in you room" your mother says to you before going out the door

your mom associates herself with other housewives of rich men , you told her countless times she'll just get influenced by those big head women but she never listened

you enter your room after you change into some oversized tee and short shorts

"hi there" the girl waves at you , oh. my. god. she was hot , gorgeous , smart based on how she's supposed to tutor you and god she looked so fine

"hi..y/n's the name" you said sitting next to her , shamefully (or not so) you check her out , her waist was beautiful her finger were long you wonder how it will feel inside of you

"Lara — raj , anyways I'll tutor you math and science for about 4 hours today" she said , she noticed how you didn't respond so she tsks

well that's until she realizes what you were doing...

"hey didn't your mother teach you checking out people is extremely perverted... especially when they're older than you?" she said her voice lowering

"what? I didn't — pfft what?" you try to play it off but judged by the smirk on her face you knew it wouldn't work

—✧˖*°࿐

after the day she quizzed you on the topic to make sure you understood it

"2/10? are you serious?" she questions

"what?" you ask as if it's normal

"you answered me flawlessly earlier" she reasons

"well maybe I need motivation" you snap back

her gears were turning but an idea struck her

"alright then"

obviously the time was done so she had to go, what a great start you thought, Great thing your tutor now was not boring

admittedly she is hot , a hot nerd you thought to yourself

—✧˖*°࿐

you try to find her social media online and see that she was older than you

"23?, not bad" you sigh

she posted loads of pictures, videos she looked well off why is she wasting her time tutoring spoiled rich kids then?

—✧˖*°࿐

the next day you didn't go to school since you were just lazy, plus what were you gonna do there anyways?

sit down and learn where and when Picasso farted?

although excitingly your pretty tutor was still coming today , you decided to go the extra mile and get ready for her wearing some of your skimpiest outfits

"you look great honey" your mom pipes up as she leaves the house

now we wait , you slouch in your room waiting for her , until..

"hey" she enters your room escorted by your maid

"oh hi.." you said back , deciding to pull your top down a bit

her eyes trailed down , you smirk at her reaction, ahh the hard work paid off i guess

"can we do math first" you plead to her giving her your best weapon ,doe eyes

she reluctantly agreed , chuckling at your actions

god she looked amazing with her glasses , her pierced nose, you can't even focus on what she's teaching you

"do you get it?" she asks

"yes" you replied

"okay then let's quiz you..— you know since yesterday I saw how you looked at me , so let's play a game"

"for every score over 5 you get a special prize , if you get anything lower well it sucks to be you cause you won't get anything" the older says , your eyes lit up at the mentions of prize

"alright then" you said

—✧˖*°࿐

"9/10?.. pretty good" she purrs , god her voice was like heroin so addicting but so bad for you

"tell me when you don't feel comfortable okay?" she asks , fuck being confused you needed her in you NOW

"mhm" you hum out , your heart thumping in synch with her movements her hands in your inner thighs her other one flipping up your skirt

soaked , wet , whatever it was you just needed her so bad

she ties up her hair , some strands falling to frame her face , her breathing gets heavy , the view was amazing, shes quite literally face to face with your cunt ,

"fucking slut" she tsks as she pulls away your undergarments a string of your nectar connecting it to your cunt

"'m not" you were but it felt humiliating , in a good way cause as much as you hate to admit it her degrading you with that voice is just perfect

a beat passes by and her tongue , it felt perfect, gosh her tongue passed by your tight entrance every now and then

"fuck please!" you whine , you felt like you were gonna orgasm just by this yet you needed more

"greedy girl" she says in a condescending tone , mocking the way you whined for her

finally she enters your slick entrance , her tongue reaching places you never thought of

your head lolled back as you moan her name like a mantra , your hands entangled in her hair as you push her head

"right nghm there!" you moan as she hits a particularly gummy spot in you

she chuckles , the vibration sending shockwaves through you , your eyes seeing stars your mouth open drooling due to the fact you can't go a second without moaning or even whining for her

"you close? — your greedy cunny is sucking me in" the older says as she redoubled her efforts her nose bumping your clit every now and then

"shit please! let me cum!" yes it was pathetic, but it felt oh so right ,

"hold it in for me princess" she replied

"please"

"do it or you won't get to finish at all" she threatens , her voice lowering

tears start to fall on your face due to the pleasure, sniffling while moaning, that's new

—✧˖*°࿐

"oh darling are you guys done already?" Lara bumps into your mom as she was going out the door

"yes ma'am , glad to see her improve" the red head replied

"I'm so thankful for you , I haven't seen y/n get along with any of her tutor before" the older woman excitedly said

"must be special then" Lara teased

—✧˖*°࿐

"6/10? what happened honey?" The older asks looking at your paper

your frown at her , what are you gonna get now :((

"don't worry lets make a compromise" she stands up locking your door slowly she removes her top

her abs were on display begging you to ride them , her boobs were perfect to be gagged on

next down was her skirt , along with her socks , shit her thighs were beautiful you itched to touch her

as your hands tried to make its way to her waist she slaps it

"ouch" you pout at her

"study next time , stupid girls don't get to have the privilege of getting fucked mkay?" she pouts back , teasing you as you practically were about to cry

"i hate you" you mumble

"we both know you don't" she replied, wearing her clothing

—✧˖*°࿐

"surprisingly miss her grades had been better , see it was D last semester now it's a B" your professor explains to your mother

you couldn't help but grin , I mean is this who she calls lazy?

maybe you were lazy but never ever were you dumb

"okay spill it what do you want for that grade" your mother says whilst in the car

"oh come on do you think of me so lowly mom?" you rhetorically ask

"but since you insist , can you schedule more of my tutoring with Lara?" you said trying to fight off smiling at the thought

"oh—i expected worse" your mother chuckles

"is that a yes?"

"obviously!" your mother replied happily

—✧˖*°࿐

"stupid slut" she whispers as her fingers hit all the right spots her lips on your neck

getting a score of 8 meant that she'll finger you, a win is a win yet it intrigued you what will you get for 10

"head filled with me fuckin her she can't even respond" she harshly said as she pinches your clit , and then going deeper

"please mo-mommy!" you didn't even realized it slipped out of your mouth till it did

"my whore" she spits as she fingers throb in pain , not a minute passed and you were gushing around them , she chuckles as her fingers dripped in your cum

"suck" she said as she forces her fingers in your mouth , she maintained eye contact as you gag around her digits

"perfect" she said afterwards, she carries you to bed making sure you were alright

"I'm okay" you reassure her

—✧˖*°࿐

school wasn't any better today , but good enough you got to recite here and there

going home was another story , everything was loud due to the party your dad hosted for his business partners or what ever they were

"god!" you scoff , as you open the door you were pulled in by Lara who giggles

"heard you had a good day?" she teases

"now your stalking me? , how interesting miss raj " you hum back

"Oh please " she laughs

she settles your bag in the chair near your desk , sitting down

"ready for your quiz" she asks smirking , she knew what she was doing and it's driving you crazy

"yes I studied hard for this one" you replied

"ooh you might just get what you deserve..." she trails off , you spot her grinning as you take the quiz

—✧˖*°࿐

you don't know if it was a miracle or just a dream but you were buried in between Laras thighs right now having the meal you much deserve after a long ass day

her low moans and wet noises make you go crazy

"fuck baby , go faster" she moans

you chuckle going even faster , like an animal who was starved for weeks , her cunt was perfect sweet and savory soft and so inviting it sucked you in practically

maybe hours passed and you were still down there , she was overstimulated but who cares fuck everything

"baby too much-"

"but" you give her the doe eyes and here she goes losing again

"fine" she said breathlessly as she lays back accepting your tongue again , your face dripped with her cum which was too perfect for her to see

—✧˖*°࿐

"Mom! Lara's staying for the night!" you scream

"fine" your mother replied

"eek she said yes! , now which one first" you said laying out a plethora of straps

"are you joking?" she asks

"no , now which one this one's cute pink and white"

#lara raj #katseye x reader #lara katseye #katseye imagines #smut #lara Rajagopalan #lara raj x reader #lara raj smut

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apollosgiftofprophecy · 2 years ago

Text

Statistics of Apollo's Lovers

I was wondering just how unfortunate of a love-life our boy Apollo had, so - as one does - I did the research, math, and writing of said love-life.

such is the life of an adhd teen :)

In total, there are 63 people on this list. I have them separated into eight groups; Immortal, Immortal & Rejected, Lived, Died, Rejected & Died, Rejected & Cursed, Rejected & Lived, and who were Rejected by Apollo

Disclaimer: I am not a historian nor an expert in Greek Mythology, I am just a very invested nerd in Mythology, and in Apollo's mythology in general, and got curious about what his rap sheet actually looks like.

Sidenote: There will be some "lovers" not on this list. Reasons being;

No actual literary sources behind them

Said literary sources are dubious at best

Not enough information is given about the nature of their relationship to make an accurate take

So if somebody isn't on this list, it's because of one of those three reasons. Although there is still a chance I missed somebody! :)

Also, no RRverse lovers include in this list. Sorry my fellow ToA fans.

(Edited 04/05/25 - ALL SECTIONS SOURCED)

Let's begin! :D

Immortal Lovers

Calliope: muse of epic poetry. Mother of Hymenaios and Ialemus (Pindar's 3rd Threnos) by Apollo.

Clio: muse of history

Erato: muse of love poetry

Euterpe: muse of music

Polyhymnia: muse of hymns/sacred poetry

Melpomene: muse of tragedy

Thalia: muse of comedy. Mother of the Corybantes (The Bibliotheca by Pseudo-Apollodorus) by Apollo.

Terpsichore: muse of dance

Urania: muse of astronomy

Boreas: the North Wind. The Boreads called Apollo "beloved of our sire" in Apollonius of Rhodes's Argonautica.

Rhetia: alternate mother of the Corybantes by Apollo. (Strabo's Geography 10.3.21)

11 lovers total here.

10 Female, 1 Male

Immortal & Rejected

Hestia: goddess of the Hearth (Hymn to Aphrodite)

1 Interest. Female.

Lovers Who Lived:

Branchus: mortal shepherd, gifted prophecy (Conon's Narrations 33 & Callimachus's Iambus)

Rhoeo: mortal princess, eventually married an apprentice of Apollo (Diodorus Siculus's Bibliotheca historica 5.62 and Tzetzes on Lycophron 570)

Ourea: demigod daughter of Poseidon, dated Apollo during his punishment with Laomedon; had a son named Ileus, after the city of Troy (Hesiod's Catalogues of Women Fragment 83)

Evadne: nymph daughter of Poseidon, Apollo sent Eileithyia & (in some texts) the Fates to aid in their son's birth (Pindar's Olympian Ode 6)

Thero: great-granddaughter of Heracles, described as "beautiful as moonbeams" (Pausanias's Description of Greece 9)

Cyrene: mortal princess-turned-nymph queen, kick-ass lion wrangler, and mother of two of Apollo's sons - Aristaeus (a god) and Idmon (powerful seer) (Pindar's Pythian Ode 9.6 ff. and Nonnus's Dionysiaca and Callimachus's Hymn to Apollo 85)

Admetus: mortal king, took great care of Apollo during his second punishment, Apollo wingmanned him for Alcestis's hand - basically Apollo doted on him <3 (Callimachus's Hymn II to Apollo and Apollodorus's Bibliotheca 1.9.15 and Hyginus's Fabulae 50–51, and also written about by Ovid and Servius)

Hecuba: queen of Troy, together they had Troilus.

It was foretold that if Troilus lived to adulthood, Troy wouldn't fall - unfortunately, Achilles murdered Troilus in Apollo's temple. When the Achaeans burned Troy down, Apollo rescued Hecuba and brought her to safety in Lycia. (Stesichorus's Fr.108)

Hyrie/Thyrie: mortal. mothered a son by Apollo. Their son, Cycnus, attempted to kill himself after some shenanigans and his mother attempted the same. Apollo turned them into swans to save their lives. (Antoninus Liberalis's Metamorphoses 12 and Ovid's Metamorphoses 7.350)

Dryope: mortal. had a son named Amphissus with Apollo, who was a snake at the time. Later turned into a lotus flower, but it had nothing to do with Apollo so she's still on this list. (noncon; written by Ovid in Metamorphoses 8 CE/AD and later by Antoninus Liberalis in his own Metamorphoses sometime between 100-300 CE/AD)

Creusa: mortal queen. had a son named Ion with Apollo (Euripides's Ion). Please check out @my-name-is-apollo's post for more details because they make some good points about what's considered "rape" in Ancient Greece. I expand on this further at the end of the post.

Melia: Oceanid nymph. Had a son w/h Apollo named Tenerus. (Pausanias's Descriptions of Greece 9.10.5–6)

Melia was said to be kidnapped, and her brother found her with Apollo. He set fire to Apollo's temple in an effort to get her back, but was killed. Melia and Apollo had two kids - but here's the interesting part. Melia was highly worshiped in Thebes, where her brother found her. She was an incredibly important figure in Thebes, especially when connected with Apollo. She and Apollo were essentially the parents of Thebes.

As I read over their story, it sounded like (to me, at least. it's okay if you think otherwise!) that Melia just absconded/eloped with Apollo.

Was kidnapping an equivalent to assault back then? Perhaps. But it's still debated on whenever or not that's true. However, one thing I've noticed reading up on these myths is that when Apollo does do something unsavory, the text says so.

It never says anything about Apollo doing anything to Melia. Her father and brother believe she was kidnapped, but, like mentioned previously, it seems far much more likely that she just ran off with her boyfriend or something.

But that's just my interpretation.

Moving on! :)

Iapis: a favorite lover. Apollo wanted to teach him prophecy, the lyre, ect. but Iapis just wanted to heal :) so Apollo taught him healing :) (Smith 1873, s.v. Iapis)

Aethusa: daughter of Poseidon & the Pleiad Alcyone. Mother of Linus and Eleuther. She is the great-great grandmother of Orpheus. (Apollodorus's Bibliotheca 3.10.1 and Pausanias's Descriptions of Greece 9.20.2 and Suida, s.v. Homer's Of the Origin of Homer and Hesiod and their Contest, Fragment 1.314)

Acacallis: daughter of King Minos. there's a lot of variation on whether or not she had kids with Hermes or Apollo. Some say she had a kid with each. (Stephanus of Byzantium, s.v. Kydōnia (Κυδωνία and Scholia on Apollonius Rhodius, 4.1492)

Chrysothemis: nymph queen who won the oldest contest of the Pythian Games - the singing of a hymn to Apollo. She had three daughters, and one of them is said to be Apollo's. (Pausanias's Descriptions of Greece 10.7.2 and Hyginus's De Astronomica 2.25)

Corycia: naiad. had a son with Apollo. the Corycian Cave north of Delphi is named after her (Hyginus's Fabulae 161)

Leuconoe (also Choine or Philonis): daughter of Eosphorus, god of the planet Venus, and mother of the bard Philammon. (Hyginus's Fabulae 161) She was killed by Diana for her hubris.

Melaena (also Thyia or Kelaino): mother of Delphos, member of prophetic Thriae of Delphi. Priestess of Dionysus. (Herodotus's Histories 7.178.1)

Othreis: mothered Phager by Apollo, and later Meliteus by Zeus. (Antoninus Liberalis's Metamorphoses 13)

Stilbe: mother of Lapithus and Aineus by Apollo. (Diodorus Siculus's Library of History 4.69.1 and Scholia on Apollonius Rhodius, 1.40 and Scholia on Apollonius Rhodius, 1.948)

Syllis (possible same as Hyllis, granddaughter of Heracles): mothered Zeuxippus by Apollo. (Pausanias's Descriptions of Greece 2.6.7)

Amphissa: Apollo seduced her in the form of a shepherd. They had a son named Agreus. (Ovid's Metamorphoses 6.103 and Hyginus's Fabulae 161)

(hey, has anybody else noticed that 'Apollo disguising himself' seems to only be a thing in Roman literature?)

Areia (or Deione): had a son named Miletus. Hid him in some smilax. Her father found him and named him. (Apollodorus's Bibliotheca 3.1.2)

Arsinoe: she and Apollo had a daughter named Eriopis. (Hesiod's Ehoiai 63 and Scholia ad Pindar's Pythian Ode 3.14)

Queen of Orkhomenos (no name is given): Mother of Trophonius (Pausanias's Descriptions of Greece 9.37.5)

(my fellow ToA fans will recognize that name haha).

Hypermnestra: Either Apollo or her husband fathered her son Amphiaraus. (Hyginus's Fabulae 70)

(sidenote: @literallyjusttoa suggested that Apollo was dating both Hypermnestra and Oikles, and I, personally, like that headcannon)

Manto: Daughter of Tiresias. Apollo made her a priestess of Delphi. They had a son named Mopsus. When Apollo sent her to found an oracle elsewhere, he told her to marry the first man she saw outside of Delphi. That man turned out to be Rhacius, who brought her to Claros, where she founded the oracle of Apollo Clarios. (Apollodorus's Bibliotheca E6. 3)

Later, another man named Lampus attempted to assault her, but was killed by Apollo. She is also said to be a priestess who warned Niobe not to insult Leto, and to ask for forgiveness. Niobe did not. (Statius's Thebaid 7 and Ovid's Metamorphoses 6)

(Dante's Inferno places her in the eighth circle of hell, and let me just say- what the FUCK Dante! What did Manto ever do to you, huh??!! Don't do my girl dirty!!)

Parthenope: granddaughter of a river god. Mothered Lycomedes by Apollo (Pausanius's Descriptions of Greece 4.1)

Phthia: prophetess. called "beloved of Apollo". Mother three kings by him; Dorus, Laodocus, & Polypoetes (Apollodorus's Bibliotheca 1.7.6)

Procleia: Mother of Tenes, son of Apollo, who was killed by Achilles before the Trojan War. Daughter of King Laomedon, king of Troy. (Apollodorus's Epitome 3. 26)

Helenus: prince of Troy. Received from Apollo an ivory bow which he used to wound Achilles in the hand. (Photius's 'Bibliotheca excerpts')

Hippolytus of Sicyon: called "beloved of Apollo" in Plutarch's Life of Numa. I don't think this guy is the same as Hippolytus, son of Zeuxippus (son of Apollo), king of Sicyon Pausanias talks about in his Description of Greece. That would be a little weird taking the whole family tree into account - though it's never stopped other gods before. *shrug*

Psamathe: nereid, said to be the personification of the sand of the sea-shore. (Conon's Narrationes 19)

She and Apollo were lovers, but never had any kids. When another man assaulted her, she had a son and abandoned him.

(He was found by some shepherds dw - wait, he was then torn apart by dogs. Nevermind.)

Back to her, her father ordered for her to be executed and Apollo avenged her death by sending a plague onto Argos and refused to stop it until Psamathe and Phocus/Linus (her son) were properly given honors.

(I really like how even though Linus isn't Apollo's kid, and that Psamathe wanted nothing to do with the kid, Apollo still considered him worth avenging too <3 )

Okay, in a previous incarnation of this post, I said there was a version where she is raped by Apollo...however, I can't find any sources to back it up😅 Even her wiki page doesn't mention rape, and Theoi's excerpt of Paunasias's Descriptions of Greece about her doesn't either.

So where did I hear about this supposed version? (Don't shoot)

Youtube. A youtube video about Apollo. Yeah...

Lesson, kids! Don't trust youtube videos on mythology! Yes, even if they dedicated lots of time to it! They can still get things wrong! In fact, don't even take my word for it! Do your own research <3

Hymenaeus: No, not his kid. This is a different Hymenaeus haha! This Hymenaeus is the son of Magnes, and comes from Megalai Ehoiai fr. 16, commonly attributed to Hesiod, and Antonius Liberalis's Metamorphosis. Legend states that while Apollo was preoccupied with Hymenaeus, baby Hermes stole his cows ;)

Euboia: Daughter of Macareus. Bore a son named Agreus. (Hyginus's Fabulae 161)

Philodice: Wife of Leukippos, mothered Phoebe and Hilaera by Apollo (Descriptions of Greece 3.16.1, citing the Kypria).

Alright. 37 lovers here.

6 Male. 31 Female.

35 are 100% consensual. Creusa is questionable, depending on who's translating/which tradition you go with. Dryope is noncon.

Lovers Who Died:

Hyacinthus*: mortal prince. we all know this one, right? Right? one and only true love turned into flower (okay that's my bias speaking but AM I WRONG?) (Plutarch's Life of Numa, 4.5; Philostratus the younger's Imagines; Pseudo-Apollodorus's Bibliotheca 1.3.3; Ovid's Metamorphoses 10.162–219; Bion's Poems 11; and various pieces of art)

Cyparissus: mortal. his DEER DIED and he asked Apollo to let him MOURN FOREVER so he was turned into a cypress tree (Ovid's Metamorphoses X 106ff)

Coronis: mortal princess. cheated on Apollo w/h Ischys, who in Fabulae was killed by Zeus. mother of Asclepius. killed by Artemis. (Pindar's Pythian Odes 3.5; Pausanias's Descriptions of Greece 2.26.6; Hyginus's Fabulae 202; Ovid's Metamorphoses 2.536��and 2.596; Hyginus's De Astronomica 2.40; Isyllus's Hymn to Asclepius 128.37 ff.)

There is another version of Asclepius's birth given by Pausanias in Descriptions of Greece 2.26.1-7, where Coronis exposes him on a mountain and Apollo takes him in.

Adonis: yes, THAT Adonis. he's in this category because. well. he died. rip (Ptolemy Hephaestion's New History Book 5)

Phorbas: Okay so Apollo's lover Phorbas and another Phorbas sometimes get mashed together so this is what I was able to gather.

Plutarch's Life of Numa 4.5 and Hyginus's De Astronomia 2.14.5 cites Phorbas as Apollo's lover. The other Phorbas is said to be a rival to Apollo in the Homeric Hymn to Apollo. Personally, I separate the two because it makes more sense with Phorbas the lover's overall story.

Here it is: The island of Rhodes fell victim to a plague of dragons or serpents, and the oracle said to summon Phorbas for help. He defeated the infestation, and after he died, Apollo asked Zeus to place him in the stars, and so Phorbas became the constellation Serpentarius, also known more widely as Ophiuchus (a man holding a serpent).

FORGET ORION AND HIS ONE-OFF MENTION OF BEING DIANA'S LOVER HERE IS A CONSTELLATION TRAGIC LOVE STORY!!!!!

(*Hyacinthus was resurrected, as celebrated in the Hyacinthia festival in Sparta. Nonnus's Dionysiaca 19.102 and Pausanias's Descriptions of Greece 3.19.4 supports this belief as well.)

5 lovers.

4 Male. 1 Female. All consensual.

Sidenote: QUIT BURYING THE GAYS GREECE!!!!

Love-Interests Who Rejected & Died:

Daphne: do i nEED to say anything? Nymph. turned into tree to escape.

Daphne and Apollo actually go back a bit. Their story was used to explain why the laurel was so sacred to Apollo. It's in Delphi, Branchus planted laurel trees around the temple he built to Apollo, the laurel was even sacred to Apollo's historical forebearer Apulu, an Etruscan god! (I have sources to back this up :3 along with an Essay.)

Apollo & Daphne first originate from Phylarchus, but we do not have any of his work :( It's been lost to history...a moment of silence RIP. He was a contemporary in the 3rd century BC/BCE (first day of 300 BC/BCE and last day of 201 BC/BCE).

He was, however, cited as a source in Parthenius's Erotica Pathemata, written sometime in the 1 century AD/CE (sometime between 66 BC/BCE and the author's death in 14 AD/CE).

Then they show up again in Pausanias's Descriptions of Greece, written between 150 AD/CE and 170 AD/CE.

Hyginus wrote his Fabulae sometime before Ovid's because it's widely criticized to be his earliest work and Ovid wrote his Metamorphoses in 8 AD/CE.

The first two versions are roughly the same, and Ovid's shares similarities with the first in only the ending. Hyginus is basically like Ovid's but without Eros.

So in publication order, it's; Erotica Pathemata, Fabulae, Metamorphoses, then Descrip. of Greece.

In Erotica Pathemata, Daphne is the daughter of Amyclas and is being courted by Leucippus. She is not interested in any sort of romance. Leucippus disguises himself as a girl to get close to her, but his ruse is revealed when Apollo nudges Daphne and her attendants into taking a bath in the river. Leucippus is consequently killed.

Apollo then becomes interested and Daphne runs away, imploring Zeus that "she might be translated away from mortal sight", and is transformed into the laurel tree.

In Fabulae, Daphne's story is a bit more familiar. She's the daughter of Peneus, the river god, and Gaea is the one who transforms her into a laurel tree.

In Metamorphoses, Eros is added to the story and is the reason why Apollo is so enamored and Daphne is so repulsed.

(I would just like to say that in this version, it was 100% nonconsensual for both of them! And I don't mean with rape- Apollo never touches Daphne in any of these version. What I mean here is that Eros maliciously makes Apollo chase down a woman and makes sure Daphne would be repulsed by him. That is noncon behavior there on both sides.)

In Descriptions of Greece 10.7.8, Daphne is the daughter of Ladon and her and Apollo are only connected by way of why the laurel crown is the victory prize of the Pythian Games. However, in Descriptions of Greece 8.20.2-8.20.4, Daphne and Leucippus make an appearance here too, but Apollo is not the reason why they stop to take a swim and his ruse is revealed, resulting in his death.

Castalia: Nymph. turned into spring to escape.

First things first, Castalia was used to explain the existence of the Castalian Spring in Delphi. However, in the Homeric Hymn to Apollo, the spring is already there when Apollo was born. So there's that to consider first.

Anyway, to escape Apollo's advances, Castalia transforms herself into a spring. (Lactantius Placidus's On Statius's Thebaid 1.698. This was written between Lactantius's lifespan of c. 350 – c. 400 AD/CE, placing it firmly in Roman times.)

2 Interests.

2 Female.

Love-Interests Who Rejected & Cursed

Cassandra: mortal princess. Received the gift of prophecy from Apollo. Due to a broken oath, she was then cursed. (Aeschylus's Agamemnon)

It is only in Roman-era tellings where Cassandra is cursed for not sleeping with Apollo, and there was no oath made (Hyginus & Pseudo-Apollodorus). In Agamemnon, it was done so because of the broken oath- not the refusing to sleep with Apollo thing.

The version where she gains prophetic abilities by way of a snake licking her ears is not part of Greco-Roman literature, but rather by an American poet.

Nevertheless, even after the curse Cassandra still loved Apollo, and called him "god most dear to me" in Eurpides's play The Trojan Women.

1 Interests.

1 Female.

Love-Interests Who Rejected & Lived

Sinope: mortal. there are two different version of her myth.

In Diodorus Siculus's Library of History 4.72.2 and Corinna's Frag. 654, Apollo "seizes" her and they have a son named Syrus.

In Apollonius's Argonautica 2.946-951 and Valerius Flaccus's Argonautica 5.109, it is Zeus who abducts her, but she gets him to promise her anything and requests to remain a virgin. He obliges. Later, Apollo and the river Halys both try to charm her, but fall for the same trick.

Library of History was written between 60-30 BC/BCE, Apollonius's Argonautica between 300 BC/BCE and 201 BC/BCE, and Valerius Flaccus's Argonautica between 70-96 AD/CE, making Apollonius's version the oldest and Valerius Flaccus's the youngest.

Marpessa: mortal princess, granddaughter of Ares. Idas, son of Poseidon, kidnapped her and Apollo caught up to them. Zeus had Marpessa chose between them, and she chose Idas, reasoning that she would eventually grow old and Apollo would tire of her. (Homer's The Iliad, 9.557 and Apollodorus's Bibliotheca 1.7.8–9)

Bolina: mortal. Apollo approached her and she flung herself off a cliff. He turned her into a nymph to save her life. (Pausanias's Description of Greece 7.23.4)

Ocroe/Okyrrhoe: nymph and daughter of a river god. asked a boatman to take her home after Apollo approached her. Apollo ended up turning the boat to stone and the seafarer into a fish. (Athenaeus's The Deipnosophists 7.283 E [citing The Founding of Naucratis by Apollonius Rhodius]. The Deipnosophists was written in the early 3rd century AD, between 201 AD and 300 AD)

Sibyl of Cumae: mortal seer. promised to date Apollo if she was given longevity as long as the amount of sand in her hand. he did, but she refused him. (Ovid's Metamorphoses 14)

5 Interests. All female.

Okyrrhoe's story is the only one with any iffy stuff, although, when something iffy does occur, the text usually says so outright.

Rejected by Apollo:

Clytie*: Oceanid nymph. turned into a heliotrope to gaze at the sun forever after the rejection.

1 Advance. Female.

(*Clytie's story was originally about her affection for Helios. [Ovid's Metamorphoses 4.192–270; Ovid used Greek sources about the etymology of the names involved, meaning Clytie and Helios go back to Greek times] As Apollo got superimposed over Helios's myths, people have assumed it is he who is the sun god in her myth and not Helios.)

In Conclusion...

63 people total, and 35 of them have Roman-Era roots with (as far as I know!! Don't take my word as gospel truth!!) no relation to Greece except by way of shared mythology.

Here's the list:

Rhoeo

Thero

Hyrie/Thyrie

Dryope

Melia

Aethusa

Acacallis

Chrysothemis

Corycia

Choine

Thyia

Othreis

Stilbe

Syllis

Amphissa

Areia

Queen of Orkhomenos

Hypermnestra

Manto

Parthenope

Phthia

Procleia

Helenus

Hippolytus of Sicyon

Psamathe

Cyparissus

Adonis

Phorbas

Castalia

Sinope

Bolina

Ocroe/Okyrrhoe

Sibyl of Cumae

Rhetia

Euboia

Meaning, 56% of the lovers listed on this post are not entirely Greek in origin (AS FAR AS I KNOW-)! That does not mean ofc that you have to ignore them. I, for one, really like the story of Rhoeo, and Manto, and Psamethe- I find their myths sweet (Rhoeo & Manto) and bittersweet (Psamethe).

Let's get to the calculations now, yeah?

63 people total (Includes Clytie)

51 Women (81%). 12 Men (19%).

19% were Immortal (Including Lovers & Rejected)

74% Lived (Including Lovers & Cursed & Rejected)

11% Died (Including Lovers & Rejected)

2% were Cursed

2% were Rejected by him

62 people total (Not Including Clytie)

50 Women (81%). 12 Men (19%).

19% were Immortal

69% Lived (Lovers & Cursed & Rejected)

11% Died (Lovers & Rejected)

in that 11%, one was apotheosized - Hyacinthus.

Meaning 9% died permanently, while 2% were resurrected.

2% were Cursed

0% were Rejected by him

Additionally, I left off five male lovers and two female lovers - Atymnius, Leucates, Cinyras, Erginus, Leukippos, Hecate, & Acantha.

Atymnius has no references to being Apollo's lover, only to Zeus's son Sarpedon. (Wikipedia why do you even have him listed? You need sources smh)

Leucates is another male "lover" left off the rack - apparently he jumped off a cliff to avoid Apollo, but I couldn't find any mythological text to account for it- and no, OSP's wiki page is not a reliable source. There is a cliff named similarly to him where Aphrodite went (by Apollo's advice) to rid herself of her longing for Adonis after his death. Also Zeus uses it to rid himself of his love for Hera before he...well, commits adultery again. 🤷

Cinyras was a priest of Aphrodite on the island of Cyprus. He was also the island's king. Pindar calls him "beloved of Apollo" in his Pythian Ode. However, looking further into Cinyras's life throws a bit of a wrench into it. He's also cited to be a challenger to Apollo's skill, and either Apollo or Mars (Ares) kills him for his hubris.

(honestly, I kinda like the idea that Mars went into Big Brother Mode)

I did consider leaving him on the list, since technically you could argue it was a romance-gone-bad, but among every other source Cinyras is mentioned in, Pindar's the only one who puts a romantic label on him and Apollo.

Plus, he’s been described as a son of Apollo too, and I personally like that more lol

Erginus now I only put on here because I saw a tumblr post saying he was a lover of Apollo, but after consulting fellow nerds on the matter we concluded that there is (very likely) no records indicating such. Hence his placement here to curb potential misinformation <3

Leukippos is here for much the same reasons as Erginus. Full disclosure here from fellow nerds but long story short a few of his daughters are said to be Apollo’s by way of his wife, who is on this list (Philodice in the Lived section!)

Hecate, the goddess of magic and crossroads, is said to be the mother of Scylla (like, the sea-monster) by Apollo, but Scylla's parentage is one of those "no specific parents" ones, so I left her off the list.

Acantha has absolutely no classical references. There's a plant like her name, but she's made-up, so she doesn't count. *stink-eyes the guy who invented her and claimed his “sources” were reliable when they really aren’t*

(Of course, I could be wrong about any of these. Again, I'm not an expert.)

With all this in mind, this means Apollo's love life actually isn't as tragic as media portrays it, and he isn't as bad as Zeus or Poseidon in the nonconsensual area.

Does he still have those kinds of myths? Yes, with Dryope and Creusa; though, we can discount Creusa because;

1) Depends on who's translating it; and

2) Ion is given different parentage in the Bibliotheca, which yes, came much after Ion, however Xuthus was traditionally considered to be Ion's father rather than Apollo. This means there was probably a different oral tradition on Ion's parentage that just wasn't written down as early as Euripides's was- in fact, it may even just be an invention of Euripides's.

(and honestly Apollo's characterization in Ion just doesn't quite match up with the rest of his appearances in the wider myths (in my opinion, at least))

So that leaves us with just Dryope, who comes from Ovid, a Roman poet, and Antoninus Liberalis, a late Greek one.

Now I'm not saying we should throw her out because of Ovid's whole "wrote the gods even more terribly to criticize Augustus" thing, but it is something to keep in mind. Political mechanics have been used to change myths before, and this is certainly one example of it.

Additionally, I have seen many people discard Dionysus's rapes in the Dionysiaca because of how late it was written, so this one can be given similar treatment if one choses too because of just how late Ovid and Antoninus Liberalis's work was.

You can, in fact, pick and chose if you wish, especially if it'll increase your enjoyment of literature. That's certainly what I do :)

So overall, I'd say Apollo has a rather clean relationship past. He's doing pretty damn good.

Also, I think we should all take note that even if Apollo had noncon myths, that doesn't reflect on the actual god. The Ancient Greeks did not see the myths as "canon" to their gods- in fact, some were not happy with the myths showing the gods in such a light.

That's something else to keep in mind. The gods of the myths are not the gods of Greece, and are more like parables or fables for the Ancient Greeks I'd say. Lessons on morality and such, and of course, warnings against hubris and the like.

This was quite the journey, and I really hope you all enjoyed reading and learning with me! This really makes me wonder- if Apollo's love life is this good, I wonder how misinformed we are on everyone else's? I have no plans on doing Zeus or Poseidon or anyone else (not for a LONG time lol, this took a lot of effort and research!), but if anyone has any idea, or gets inspired to do something like this for any other god, please tag me!! I'd love to see it! :D

And since this was on a previous reblog, here be a meme from a while ago:

[ID: Me Explaining Me. On the left is a girl with her hands up, fingers pinched together, like she's intensely explaining something. The text over her says "Me giving a detailed diatribe about Apollo's love life and how modern media has done him and his lovers dirty". On the right is the girl's mother, wrapped up to her chin in a blanket, with a look on her face that screams "absolutely done with this shit". The Mother is labeled "My family". /End ID]

suffers in I'm the only mythology nerd in the family

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mirisss · 1 month ago

Text

Web of Frost

Spiderman! Jungwon x female! reader

Wordcount ≈ 15.7k

Warnings: Fighting, a lot of angst, Jungwon being injured, Sunghoon being a villain, kind of a sad ending, (Y/n) being a little apathetic, I think that sums it up, let me know if I’ve missed anything

Summary: Yang Jungwon, a normal teenager, or as normal as your friendly neighbourhood Spider-man can be. Park (Y/n), normal teenager and girlfriend to one Spider-Man, though she doesn’t know about that. Enter Park Sunghoon, (Y/n) brother, also known as the city's worst enemy. What happens when all three worlds are woven together and secrets are revealed?

Thank you for the request! I hope you like it, it feels a little messy but I did my best!

Please reblog!

~~~ Haneul City High, Tuesday ~~~

The school bell rang, echoing through the halls of Haneul City High, a sound that meant chaos for some and relief for others.

In Room 2B, at the center desk, Yang Jungwon adjusted his glasses and neatly slid his notes into his folder. Across from him, Sim Jake leaned back in his chair, balancing a pencil on his upper lip. “Dude,” Jake said, the pencil falling as he spoke, “if you get one more perfect score, they’re going to make you teach the class.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” Jungwon said with a small grin, glancing toward the door, where Park (Y/n) leaned against the frame, waiting. “Of course not,” Nishimura Riki, Niki, chimed in, stuffing his half-crumpled math homework into his backpack. “You live for this nerd stuff.” “Better than living for barely-passing stuff,” Jungwon replied, raising a brow.

Jake gave Niki a dramatic pat on the back. “It’s okay, buddy. Not all of us can be top ten students and superhero fans.” (Y/n) rolled her eyes but smiled as Jungwon joined her at the door. He brushed a bit of chalk dust off his sleeve before speaking. “Ready for lunch?” “Only if you don’t make me sit through another lecture about the trajectory of falling apples,” she teased, linking her arm with his. “I already suffer enough in Physics.” “You wound me,” he said, mock-offended.

In the cafeteria, they claimed their usual spot near the window. From across the room, students looked but rarely approached. The group wasn’t unpopular, nor were they popular, sure, there were students who sometimes bullied them, mostly Jungwon and Jake for being part of the mathletes, but most people just left them alone.

(Y/n) unwrapped her sandwich. “Did you guys hear? Spider-Man stopped that bank robbery near downtown last night.” Jungwon froze for half a second. Jake coughed into his juice box. Niki stared too intently at his pudding. “Really?” Jungwon said, voice steady. “Was anyone hurt?”

“Nope. The cops said he captured everyone before things blew up. Again.” She smiled, half in awe. “I don’t care what people say, he’s kind of amazing.” Jungwon looked at her, the corners of his mouth twitching with something unreadable. “Yeah, kind of.”

~~~ ZEUS Corp Tuesday ~~~

The hum of machinery filled the air as Park Sunghoon walked the pristine corridor of ZEUS Corp, white coat crisp, face unreadable. The lab’s chill didn’t faze him. It never did, not anymore. He passed scientists chatting about new calibrations, nodding at interns who looked at him like a minor celebrity. Inside his private lab, he pulled the door closed. Alone.

He moved to the back of the room, typing in a code. A hidden panel opened, revealing a locked briefcase. Inside: a sliver of shattered synthetic crystal, what remained of the Biofusion Core. A project long since banned.

He stared at it. The blue glow pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat. His reflection in the glass caught his attention, calm, composed. His eyes reflected the blue glow, going from brown to an icy blue. “Soon,” he murmured to no one.

~~~ Haneul City Bank, 10:13 PM Monday ~~~

Alarms wailed. Glass shattered. Civilians screamed. A man in a ski mask pointed a shaking gun at the bank teller as two others smashed open the vault behind him. “You’ve got one minute before we paint the walls red!” the leader barked. And then, suddenly-

THWIP!

The gun vanished from his hands, webbed to the ceiling. “You know,” a voice echoed from above, “you really should work on your customer service.” All three heads whipped up. Perched upside-down from a light fixture, Spider-Man grinned behind his mask.

“Also, painting walls red? A little cliché. Let’s try originality next time, yeah?” “Shoot him!” Bullets flew. Spider-Man flipped, webbed one of the guns midair, ricocheted off a pillar, and slammed a robber with a textbook-perfect kick. In seconds, he’d webbed two to the wall and disarmed the third, dangling him from the ceiling by his ankle.

“Thanks for banking with us,” he said, voice modulated through his suit’s filter. “Come again, actually, no, don’t.” Police sirens screamed in the distance. Spider-Man looked back at the bystanders, who were staring wide-eyed. He gave a mock salute. “Try the muffins at the café next door. They’re safer.” With a flick of his wrist, he shot a web and vanished into the night.

~~~ 11:04 PM Monday ~~~

The window slid open silently. Spider-Man landed inside with practiced ease, pulling off his mask to reveal a sweaty, slightly bruised Yang Jungwon. His hair clung to his forehead, and a thin cut ran along his cheek.

He barely got two steps in before…

“DUDE!”

Jake popped up from the bed, wide-eyed. “You kicked a guy through the air vent!” Jungwon blinked. “You were watching the livestream again, weren’t you?” “I was studying… and then the livestream accidentally opened in five tabs,” Jake said innocently.

From Jungwon’s desk chair, Niki spun around, holding a bag of chips. “You went full ninja tonight. I give that a 9.5 out of 10,” he said, tossing a chip in his mouth. “Would’ve been a 10 if you’d let me help.” “Again with the sidekick thing?” Jungwon groaned, tugging off his gloves.

“I’d make a great sidekick. Look at me. I’m agile. I’m charming. I have excellent hair.” “You have a 76 in Biology,” Jungwon muttered. “Exactly. I’ve got nothing to lose!” Jake laughed, falling back onto the bed. “You were awesome, man,” he said. “That one move off the counter? Straight out of a video game.”

Jungwon gave a tired smile as he peeled off the rest of the suit. “It wasn’t clean. I slipped on a coin tray.” “Amazing,” Niki said with mock drama. “The mighty Spider-Man, brought low by loose change.” Jungwon rolled his eyes but chuckled, the sound soft and real. For a moment, everything was still. Quiet. He looked out the window, city lights blinking back at him like stars. For now, Haneul was safe.

~~~ Haneul City High, Tuesday ~~~

Lunchtime was almost over. Chatter buzzed through the cafeteria, forks scraped against trays, and someone in the corner was trying (badly) to rap over a beat playing from a cracked phone speaker. Jungwon was only half-listening to Niki talk about a new action movie trailer when his spider sense prickled, not a sharp jolt, but a slow, crawling unease across the back of his neck.

Then, he noticed it. The air had shifted. “Is it just me,” Jake said, rubbing his arms, “or is it freezing in here?” It was cold, suddenly, unnaturally cold. The buzz of noise around them started to die down as students glanced around, confused. Breaths misting in the air. Jungwon’s fingers clenched under the table. Frost began creeping along the floor tiles, slow and deliberate, like it was alive. It bloomed across the walls next, coating lockers and window frames in thin sheets of ice.

(Y/n) shivered, pulling her jacket tighter. “What the hell…?” That was all Jungwon needed. His eyes snapped to Jake and Niki. One look. That’s all it took. Jake stood up casually. “Hey, (Y/n), wanna help us go find some heat in the science wing? Their vents never shut off.” “What? But lunch is-” “C’mon,” Niki said quickly, already tugging her away from the freezing table. “You’re literally turning blue.” (Y/n) frowned but let herself be pulled. “Seriously, what’s going on?” Jake glanced back once, just in time to see Jungwon slip through the side doors, head down, hood up.

Jungwon used his strength to pry open the door to an empty classroom, his breath already fogging. His fingers moved fast, peeling off his jacket, pulling the suit from his backpack. The chill was creeping faster. By the time he yanked the mask over his head, the lights in the hallway outside flickered. Somewhere down the corridor, ice cracked and groaned as it spread.

“Not here,” he muttered to himself. “Not at school.” He threw open the window, launching himself out and up onto the nearest rooftop with a thwip. From above, the streets of Haneul looked like they were holding their breath. People were staring up, pointing. The air shimmered with frost.

And walking casually down the center of the street, boots crunching on newly formed ice, was a man in a black and steel-blue suit, long coat flowing behind him like smoke. His breath came out in plumes. Electricity flickered along his fingertips.

Stormchill.

He wasn’t attacking. Not yet. He seemed to be testing something. Watching how far the cold could go. But Jungwon didn’t wait to find out. He launched himself from the rooftop, flipping once before landing cleanly in front of him. “Taking a stroll, Stormchill?” Spider-Man said, voice distorted through his filter. “Kind of a health code violation, freezing schools and cities, you know.”

Stormchill looked up slowly. His eyes glowed faintly blue beneath his mask. “Spider-Man,” he said, almost bored. “Didn’t expect you to show up for a preview.” “I don’t let villains preview anything. Step away from the school.” Stormchill tilted his head, smirking faintly behind the mask. “So quick to assume I’m here for destruction. Maybe I just like the cold.”

“You’re not just passing through,” Spider-Man replied. “This is a warning, isn’t it?” A pulse of cold swept out from Stormchill’s body a sudden blast of freezing wind that sent snow swirling down the street. Power lines above sparked dangerously. He turned slightly, not attacking, but not retreating either.

“Tell them this was mercy,” he said softly. “Next time, I won’t walk away.” Then, in a crackle of blue lightning and a gust of frost, he was gone. Vanished. Jungwon stood alone in the street, breath ragged behind the mask. Stormchill had arrived. And this time, he wasn’t hiding.

Jungwon leapt across rooftops, the wind slicing past him as he searched, desperate for any sign of Stormchill. A flicker of blue light. A trace of cold air. A distorted reflection in a window. But there was nothing. Stormchill was gone. Just like that. And that was the part that scared Jungwon most. This wasn’t like the other times. Stormchill had never come this close. Never so deliberately close to civilians. To a school. To them.

Jungwon landed hard on the edge of a rooftop, crouched in silence, the wind tugging at the edges of his mask. This wasn’t just a warning. It was a declaration. Stormchill was done hiding. And if he didn’t stop him, if he didn’t figure out how to beat someone with the power to freeze an entire block in seconds, this city wouldn’t survive. He stayed there for another breath, heart thudding. Then, he turned, shot a web, and headed back to school.

By the time Jungwon slipped back inside, suit tucked away in his backpack, the ice was gone. What had been a frozen tundra was now a waterlogged mess. Custodians muttered under their breath as they tossed towels and shoved wet caution signs into place. Students wandered the halls in confusion, whispering theories. “Maybe it was a gas leak?” “No, I’m telling you, it was him, Stormchill.”

“They said Spider-Man was seen nearby. He was trying to stop it.” Jungwon pushed past them all, eyes scanning, until he saw them, Jake, Niki, and (Y/n), walking over toward him, they had managed to get to the science wing, they were safe; however, their soaked shoes squeaked against the floor.

The second (Y/n) saw him, her eyes widened. “Jungwon!” she called, rushing over. “Where did you go?!” “I-” he started, breath catching as she threw her arms around him. He hugged her tightly, burying his face briefly in her shoulder. Just feeling her there, warm, safe, it helped quiet the storm in his mind. “I got locked in the cafeteria when the doors iced over,” he said softly, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. “Tried to call for someone but my phone froze, you guys managed to get out right before that happened,”

She frowned, worry written all over her face. “That was insane. I thought, I mean, what if something happened to you?” He swallowed. “I’m okay. You’re okay. That’s what matters.” Behind her, Jake gave him a subtle nod. Niki tilted his head slightly, reading him like a book. But Jungwon didn’t say anything more. He just looked at (Y/n), and for the first time, the words pressed hard against the inside of his throat.

She deserved to know. Everything in him screamed it. But not here. Not now. Not yet. He pulled her close again, quieter this time. “I promise… I’ll tell you everything. Soon.” (Y/n) looked up, puzzled. “Tell me what?” Jungwon forced a small smile. “Later.”

~~~ Zeus Corp ~~~

The lights in the corridor flickered once. Twice. Then, with a low crack of static, a cold gust swept through the air vents, unnatural, almost electric. The reinforced steel door to the private office clicked, then opened with a hiss. Stormchill stepped through.

Frost clung to the edges of his coat. Pale blue lightning shimmered faintly in the fabric like veins. The ice spread only slightly. Controlled. Focused. He stood perfectly still in the center of the room. Then, as if releasing a breath, he lifted a hand and pulled off his mask.

The glow in his eyes dimmed, flickering from cold, piercing ice-blue back to Sunghoon’s familiar warm brown. But the warmth was only color-deep. His expression remained cold. A small smile curved at the edges of his lips, not smug, not triumphant. Sinister. Calculated.

He walked to the wide glass panel overlooking the city, fingers leaving light frost-trails on the railing as he passed. Below, the city shimmered in the dying sunlight, warm, alive, fragile. He stared at it in silence.

“They felt it today,” he murmured to no one. His voice was low, calm. “The first whisper of what’s coming.” His gloved hand reached toward the glass, and the pane slowly frosted over under his touch. “This city is rotting from the inside,” he said quietly. “And they keep clinging to false hope. Masks and heroes. Webs and lies.”

He turned, slowly, walking back toward the center of the room. His mask lay in his hand, sleek, menacing. “I’m not hiding anymore,” he whispered. And with a hum of energy, he vanished in a flash of blue light, leaving only a faint shimmer of frost where he had stood.

~~~ (Y/n)’s home ~~~

The warmth of (Y/n)’s home always caught Jungwon off guard. It was filled with little things, framed family photos lining the hallway, the smell of something sweet lingering from the kitchen, and a fuzzy rug by the front door. It reminded him of the life he barely had time to live anymore.

“Jungwon! So good to see you again,” (Y/n)’s mom beamed as she opened the door. Her dad waved from the kitchen with a grin. “We’ve missed you around here.” “Missed me?” Jungwon laughed politely. “You saw me two days ago.” “That’s two days too long,” her mom teased, already heading toward the kitchen. “You staying for dinner?” “Can’t tonight,” he said with a soft smile. “Just some homework and hanging out, if that’s okay.” “Always.”

(Y/n) led him up to her room, the door clicking softly shut behind them. Jungwon glanced around again, the photos. Same as always. Her parents, younger versions of herself, and that one tall, smiling figure that came up often. Sunghoon. The older brother, Jungwon, had yet to meet.

Three months of dating, and he’d never once been home when Jungwon visited. He worked a lot, apparently, late hours, overnight shifts at a big company, Zeus Corp. No social media presence. A ghost with a familiar smile in photos. Jungwon had asked once. (Y/n) had just shrugged. “He’s busy. He used to be around more, but lately, it’s like he lives at work.” Still, the guy was everywhere, his presence woven into the fabric of the house. It made Jungwon curious. But tonight wasn’t about that.

They sat on her bed, side by side, textbooks open, laptops glowing. Her knee bumped his from time to time, and each time she looked up to ask a question, he smiled softly and leaned in to help. “Wait,” she mumbled, pencil between her teeth. “Why is this derivative so weird?” “Because math is mean,” he said with mock seriousness, leaning closer. “But look, you just factor this out, and-” She nodded slowly, his voice easing her into understanding. Their hands brushed briefly, and she didn’t move hers away.

It was normal. Peaceful. For once, he wasn’t Spider-Man. Just Jungwon. Just her boyfriend. He almost didn’t want the evening to end. But eventually, it did.

Outside her door, she walked him down the hall, hands still linked with his. At the front door, he kissed her softly, nothing dramatic. Just a gentle moment, shared in golden hallway light. “Text me when you get home,” she said, forehead resting against his. “I always do.”

Then he was gone, the cool evening wrapping around him like a reminder. Back to the city. Back to the other side of his life.

~~~ Jake’s family home, Friday ~~~

The glow of the TV reflected in Jungwon’s eyes as he sat cross-legged on the floor, a controller in hand, laughter bubbling between him, Jake, and Niki. “Dude, you didn’t even dodge, how are you this bad?” Jake teased, nudging Niki with his foot. “It’s lag, I swear,” Niki protested, wildly mashing buttons.

Jungwon grinned, genuinely relaxed, the chaos of Monday’s robbery, the frozen cafeteria on Tuesday, it all felt distant now. Almost manageable. He wasn’t just Spider-Man here. He was still a kid, still someone who could laugh. And then the world screamed.

It started with a low rumble. Then the lights flickered. A sudden pulse of energy blasted through the city, visible even from the apartment window, bright blue arcs of lightning snapping through the skyline.

Sirens wailed in the distance. Screams followed. The temperature dropped instantly. Frost began to crawl across the glass from the inside. Jungwon stood up sharply, every sense on fire. “Stormchill,” he breathed. Jake and Niki were already moving. Jake tossed Jungwon his bag. Niki locked the door, making sure no one could walk in. “No jokes this time,” Niki muttered, voice tight with fear. “Just be careful, man.” Jungwon nodded, mask in hand. “If this goes bad, keep (Y/n) safe.” And with a thwip, he was gone, out the window, into the storm.

Stormchill stood in the middle of the chaos, surrounded by floating cars, shattered glass, and torn-up asphalt. Lightning coiled around his arms like serpents, crackling with unnatural fury. Waves of cold swept out in every direction, sidewalks cracked, buildings frosted over, entire traffic lights froze mid-swing.

People ran. Screamed. Fell. And Stormchill laughed, the sound sharp and twisted, echoing through the frozen air. “Where is your savior now?” he roared, arms outstretched as a surge of electricity blasted through a nearby transformer. It exploded in a shower of sparks. And then Spider-Man dropped from the sky.

He landed in a crouch, skidding across ice, eyes narrowing behind the lenses of his mask. “You again,” Stormchill sneered. “Yeah,” Spider-Man said, breathing hard. “Me again.” He charged. Webs shot forward, but they were instantly frozen mid-air, shattered before they could reach their target.

He flipped, dodged a blast of lightning, landed hard, rolled, leapt up again, only to be hit in the chest with a pulse of static that sent him flying into a parked car, the impact warping the metal. Still, he got up. Again. And again. But it wasn’t enough.

Stormchill was too fast. Too precise. He froze entire buildings with a wave. He sent power surging through every grounded surface, keeping Spider-Man from ever gaining a foothold. For an hour, they danced, blows exchanged, near-hits, desperate dodges, but slowly, steadily, Jungwon’s stamina gave out. His suit tore at the shoulder. One lens cracked. Stormchill grabbed him mid-air, electricity coursing through his gloves, and slammed him into the ground with a sickening crack.

The city fell silent. Stormchill stood over him, victorious, laughing darkly. “Your hero has failed you!” he shouted to the stunned citizens peeking from windows and behind wreckage. “Remember this moment. The age of ice is coming.” And then, once again, he was gone, disappearing in a burst of static-laced snow.

Jungwon barely made it home. Limping. Bruised. Suit torn. One arm cradled against his ribs. The mask hung from his hand. He sat on the edge of the rooftop outside his bedroom window, staring at the city. His city. The frost was melting slowly, but the damage was done.

The media would be brutal. The city was terrified. And he’d lost. The phone in his pocket buzzed, (Y/n) calling. He let it ring. Another buzz, Jake this time. Then Niki. He didn’t answer. He just sat there, blood on his lip, head bowed, feeling the weight of something heavier than any fight.

Doubt.

~~~ Friday night to Sunday ~~~

The days blurred together in a flurry of sirens, shattered glass, and headlines that stabbed deeper than any wound. “Spider-Man Loses City’s Trust After Stormchill Attack.” “Frozen Fear: Where Was Our Hero?” “Rising Chaos in Spider-Man’s Wake.”

The city was falling apart, not because Spider-Man wasn’t trying, but because he was no longer seen as enough. Jungwon stopped three robberies, pulled two kids from a fire, and webbed up a group of looters outside a frozen electronics store. Still, when he left them tied up for the cops, someone shouted after him. “Where were you when Stormchill froze my apartment?!” The words hit harder than any punch.

~~~

“You want food?” Jake asked, tossing a bag of chips toward the couch. It landed untouched. Jungwon sat slumped against the armrest, eyes on the muted TV, where the news scrolled another headline about Spider-Man’s apparent failure. The glow cast shadows across his face, ones that hadn’t been there before.

“Dude, come on,” Niki muttered from the floor, tossing a stress ball into the air. “You saved, like, fifty people this week alone.” “Doesn’t matter.” Jungwon’s voice was low, cracked. “Stormchill still wrecked half the city. I couldn’t even land a hit on him.” Jake frowned. “You fought for an hour. Against a guy throwing lightning and freezing buildings. You’re not a god.” “I’m supposed to be their hero,” Jungwon muttered. “But they all hate me now.”

A silence stretched too long. “You know who doesn’t hate you?” Niki finally said. “(Y/n).” That name made Jungwon flinch. He hadn’t seen her since Friday. They’d texted briefly, sure, but every time he tried to open the chat, his hands froze. What if she said she lost faith? What if she said she didn’t believe in Spider-Man anymore?

Jake reached over and nudged him. “You should talk to her. I know you’re scared of what she might think. But you’re not Spider-Man to her. You’re you.” Jungwon didn’t answer; he stayed silent, focused on his internal battle.

~~~ At Jungwon’s home later that night ~~~

He sat on the edge of his bed, half-suited down in his Spider-Man gear, mask in hand. He stared at it. The weight of it. The symbol it was supposed to be. The responsibility. He had tried. He had given everything. And still, people looked up and said, “You failed us.”

His phone buzzed.

(Y/n): I miss you. Are you okay? You kinda vanished this weekend…

He stared at the message for a long time.

He wanted to say: I’m sorry. I’m not okay. I’m Spider-Man, and I think I lost.

But instead, he typed:

Jungwon: I miss you too. I’ll see you tomorrow.

~~~ Haneul High, Monday ~~~

Jungwon walked slower than usual. His backpack slung over one shoulder, the familiar stretch of fabric tugging at sore ribs beneath his hoodie. The bruises were nearly gone, super-healing had its perks, but the pain lingered. Sharp, constant, a reminder of how close he came to breaking.

Students streamed around him, buzzing about the cold snap, the lingering fear, and of course, Spider-Man. “I heard Stormchill fried an entire bus.” “Did you see how bad Spider-Man got beat?” “He’s not even trying anymore. What’s the point?”

Jungwon lowered his head and tried not to let the words stick. But they did. They always did. Then he saw her. (Y/n), standing by her locker, her arms crossed, eyebrows drawn into a stormcloud of disappointment. She looked straight at him. And didn’t smile.

Jungwon’s heart dropped. “Hey,” he said, voice soft, careful. “You look really pretty today.” She didn’t answer. He reached her, trying to read her expression. “Okay, ouch. Ice cold. Literally colder than Stormchill.” Still nothing. “(Y/n)…” he said, stepping closer.

Her arms uncrossed, but her eyes stayed sharp. “You ignored me all weekend, Jungwon. No replies, one text, no calls. What happened?” “I-” he started, already crumbling. “I’m sorry.” She just raised a brow. Jungwon sighed, and after a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, he leaned in and gently kissed her cheek… then the tip of her nose.

“Don’t do that,” she mumbled, turning her head away, though the faintest smile threatened to form. He grinned slightly, hopeful. “Do what?” “Be cute when I’m mad at you,” she muttered. “It’s cheating.” “I’m seriously sorry,” Jungwon said. “You deserve an explanation. And I promise… after school, I’ll tell you everything I can. Just please don’t stay mad.”

She paused, finally looking him in the eye. “You’re lucky I missed you.” He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for hours. “So… we’re okay?” “We will be,” she said, linking her pinky with his. “But if you ditch me again like that, I’ll punch you. Right in your weirdly perfect jaw.” Jungwon laughed quietly, and even though his ribs flared in pain, he felt a little lighter. But as they walked to class, hand in hand, a weight still pressed against his chest. He still didn’t know if he had the courage to tell her the truth.

~~~ Later that afternoon at Jungwon’s place ~~~

(Y/n) sat in the desk chair, arms crossed, legs tucked under her as she faced Jungwon, who sat stiffly on the edge of his bed. He looked nervous, more nervous than she’d ever seen him. She was trying not to jump to conclusions, but the look in his eyes, it wasn’t just guilt. It was fear.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “So, uh… this is going to sound completely insane.” (Y/n) didn’t blink. “Jungwon. Start talking.” He swallowed hard. “Okay. Um. I’m, uh Spider-Man.”

Dead silence.

(Y/n) tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. “You’re what now?” “I’m Spider-Man,” he said again, a little more rushed. “The guy. The webs. Swinging around the city. That’s me.” “Jungwon,” she said slowly. “If this is some weird joke, it’s not funny.” “I’m not joking,” he said, standing up. “Hang on. I’ll prove it.”

Before she could ask how, Jungwon placed one hand on his bedroom wall and then walked straight up it like gravity didn’t exist. He crouched on the ceiling, upside down, looking at her with wide eyes. (Y/n) stood up, her chair screeching back.

“What the?!? How, Jungwon?!?” He flipped down gracefully, landing on his feet, and went straight to his closet. A few seconds of digging later, he held out the iconic red-and-blue suit. “Still got soot on it,” he said quietly. She stared at it. At him. At the wall. At the suit.

“No way,” she breathed. “This, this can’t, You’re… You’re Spider-Man?” He nodded. Her voice cracked, raw and real. “You fought Stormchill. You got hurt. I saw the footage, he threw you into a building, Jungwon!” “I’m okay,” he said quickly, stepping toward her. “I promise. I’m okay now.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” “I wanted to,” he said. “So many times. But I didn’t know how. I was scared.”

“Of what? That I’d be mad?” “No,” he said, eyes locked on hers. “That you’d be scared for me. That you’d be in danger just knowing. I didn’t want to drag you into this.” Her arms fell to her sides as she stared at him. “But I was already in danger, Jungwon. The cafeteria? You think I didn’t notice how fast Jake pulled me out when the frost started spreading? Like you told him to?”

He froze. (Y/n)’s brows knit together. “Wait did he know? Did Jake know?” Jungwon looked down. “…That’s not important right now.” “It is to me.” He winced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you. Or lie. I just… I didn’t know what else to do.” A beat passed.

Then, slowly, (Y/n) stepped toward him. “I’m still mad,” she said softly. “But not because you’re Spider-Man.” He looked up. “I’m mad because you’ve been carrying all of this alone,” she continued. “Because you got hurt and didn’t tell me. Because I love you and you didn’t trust me with the truth.” His breath caught. “I do trust you.”

“Then show me,” she said. “Let me be part of this now. No more lies.” He nodded, eyes shimmering. “Okay.” (Y/n) wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in tight despite the ache in his ribs. He held her back just as tightly, the tension finally beginning to melt away. “You’re still an idiot,” she muttered into his shoulder. “Yeah,” he whispered back, “but I’m your idiot.”

(Y/n) sat back down beside Jungwon on the bed, still processing the weight of everything he had just told her. Her fingers toyed gently with a frayed edge of his comforter, the silence between them no longer tense, just thoughtful.

“…So,” she finally said, her voice softer now, “Jake knows too, doesn’t he?” Jungwon gave a sheepish smile. “Yeah. He was actually the first one to find out.” (Y/n) turned her head to look at him. “How?”

He took a deep breath, thinking back to those early, chaotic nights. “It was not long after I first became Spider-Man. I was still figuring things out, how to swing, how to fight, how not to crash into walls every other minute.” She couldn’t help but let out a quiet, amused breath at that.

“One night,” Jungwon continued, “Jake and I were walking home from a late study session. He took a shortcut through this alley, and I stayed to continue on my own way. when a group of guys, low-level thugs, jumped him. I saw it happen just as they started dragging him up the fire escape.” (Y/n)’s eyes widened. “Oh my god.”

“They were trying to use him as bait,” Jungwon said bitterly. “To get Spider-Man to show up. Which… obviously worked. I suited up and took them on, but things got messy. During the fight, Jake was thrown off the edge of the roof.” (Y/n) gasped.

“I caught him,” Jungwon said quickly. “But in the panic, I shouted his name. I didn’t even realize I did it until afterward. I got him to safety, and when I checked on him, he looked right at me and said, ‘Jungwon?’” He gave a small, nostalgic laugh. “Guess my voice wasn’t as masked as I thought.”

“That’s why you use that voice distortion thing now?” (Y/n) asked. “Yeah,” he said with a nod. “It’s not perfect, but it helps. Jake’s been helping me ever since, covering for me at school, making excuses when I vanish, even helping upgrade my gear. He’s honestly been amazing.” (Y/n) let that sink in for a moment, then gave him a knowing smile. “So that’s why he always seemed to know where you were.” “Busted,” Jungwon chuckled.

She leaned her head on his shoulder, more at ease now. “You’re lucky to have a friend like Jake,” “I know,” he said softly. “And now, I have you too.” (Y/n) smiled, hugging his arm. “You’ve always had me.”

(Y/n) was quiet for a moment, still curled gently against Jungwon’s side before she tilted her head and asked, “What about Niki? Does he know too?” Jungwon let out a short sigh through his nose, a sheepish grin forming. “Yeah… he does. Found out about a year ago.” “Another accident?” He nodded. “A different kind, though. That night was a mess.” (Y/n) leaned back a little to look at him, curiosity piqued.

“It was really late. I’d just finished stopping this guy who thought he was the city’s next big villain, news flash, he wasn’t,” Jungwon added quickly. “But I was exhausted. I climbed through my bedroom window like usual, pulled my mask off and right then I heard the most ungodly scream I’ve ever heard in my life.” (Y/n) covered her mouth with a gasp. “Niki?”

“Niki,” Jungwon confirmed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Turns out, he’d had this massive fight with his parents. He left their house in the middle of the night and came to mine. He has a spare key, so he let himself in, however, I didn’t remember that I gave it too him like five years ago. But I guess I was out longer than usual, so he thought maybe I was staying at Jake’s.”

“And then he woke up to see Spider-Man taking off his mask in front of him,” (Y/n) finished for him, eyes wide. “Yup.” Jungwon groaned a little at the memory. “He screamed so loud I almost fell out the window. I had to tackle him onto the bed and clamp his mouth shut before he alerted my whole building.” (Y/n) laughed, the image too vivid not to picture.

“He thought it was the coolest thing ever, though,” Jungwon added, rolling his eyes fondly. “Still does. He kept asking if he could be my sidekick. Tried to come up with names and everything.” “What’d you say?” she asked with a smirk. “I told him he’d get himself killed within ten minutes because he doesn’t have any powers.” (Y/n) giggled. “Sounds like him.”

“Yeah. He was mad for, like, a week. But he still helps out however he can. I trust him.” She smiled, watching Jungwon as he talked about the people he kept close, the ones he trusted with his life. Then her expression turned a little more serious again. “I’m glad they know. I’m glad I know now, too.” Jungwon took her hand gently. “I wanted to tell you sooner. I just didn’t want you to get hurt.” “I get it,” she said. “But next time, trust me to decide that for myself.” “I will.” He squeezed her hand. “From now on, no more secrets.”

~~~ Later at (Y/n)’s house ~~~

When (Y/n) stepped through the front door that evening, she expected the usual: silence, maybe a note from her parents saying they’d be home late. Instead, the warm scent of brewed tea and the sound of movement in the kitchen made her pause in surprise. “Sunghoon?” she called.

A moment later, her older brother stepped into view, still dressed in his Zeus Corp uniform, blazer off, sleeves rolled up. He looked tired, but he smiled at the sight of her. “Hey, stranger,” he said. “Sunghoon!” she lit up, rushing over to hug him. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.” “Work’s been a nightmare,” he murmured as he wrapped his arms around her.

Then, he froze. Just for a second. Barely noticeable. But enough. There it was. That faint, strange scent, crackling energy laced with chill. Not just cold. His cold. His frost. There was a residual trace of something deeply familiar, something from that night. The fight. The strike that hit Spider-Man square in the chest, a flash of ice laced with electricity that would have clung to his suit, his skin, maybe even his clothes underneath.

And now that same signature, weak but undeniable, was on (Y/n). The smile never left Sunghoon’s face, but a darkness began creeping in behind his eyes. He pulled back, letting the hug end naturally, but his thoughts raced. Not her. But someone close to her. Someone who touched her recently. Hugged her. Close contact.

His mind sharpened. His instincts as Stormchill whispered possibilities. He smoothed a hand over her shoulder gently. “You’ve been out?” “Yeah,” she said casually, completely unaware. “Spent the afternoon at Jungwon’s. We were doing homework.” Sunghoon’s expression didn’t shift. Not yet. “How’s he doing?” “He’s good. A little stressed from school stuff.” She smiled. “But he always helps me out when I get stuck.”

“Mm,” Sunghoon murmured. “That’s nice.” He turned back toward the kitchen. “I made dinner if you’re hungry.” “Starving,” she said, hanging up her bag and skipping in after him. Behind her, Sunghoon’s smile faded just a little. Someone near his sister was Spider-Man. He didn’t know who yet, but he would. And when he finds them, He would crush them. Maybe it was Jungwon, maybe Jake, he’s around often, maybe that Niki kid, maybe someone else.

~~~

The morning sun hadn’t fully risen yet, casting long blue shadows across the quiet street. From an alley beside their home, Sunghoon stood silently, his jacket replaced with a dark hoodie, hands in his pockets, face half-covered by a shadowed cap. His car was parked blocks away, appearances maintained, routines followed, as far as anyone knew, he’d already gone to work.

But today, he had different priorities. He waited patiently, watching through the narrow slats between the fence posts until the front door creaked open and (Y/n) stepped out, school bag over her shoulder and earbuds in. She locked the door behind her and walked off with her usual bounce.

He followed. At a distance. Silent, untraceable. He wasn’t used to doing this, tailing someone without freezing an entire street block, but stealth had its merits. Especially when the target had no idea she was being watched.

(Y/n) reached the school gates just as three familiar boys came into view. Jungwon was the first to greet her, a bright smile on his face as he immediately pulled her into a warm hug, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Jake gave her a hug, casual and friendly. Niki offered his usual half-hug, half-handshake, lazy but sincere.

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes from across the street. Three possibilities. His gaze flicked between them, cold and clinical. He analyzed posture, height, build, even warmth in their greetings.

Niki: tall, a little too lanky. Didn’t seem to fit the same physic. Not enough contact to transfer the residue. Probably not him.

Jake: close. But didn’t fit exactly what Sunghoon remembered. He’d fought Spider-Man up close. Jake’s movements felt too loose, untrained, but he could be different when wearing the suit, even Sunghoon was different with his.

Jungwon: Shorter. More compact. Physically fit, but deceptively so. The hug he gave (Y/n) was too natural, too close. Too perfect. Definitely a top contender.

Was it him? A cruel grin ghosted across Sunghoon’s lips. Time to test. He reached into his coat, fingers curling around a small shard of frost-tipped metal, an ice prick no bigger than a pen cap, supercharged with a faint static pulse. It wouldn’t kill. It wouldn’t even leave a permanent wound. But it would move fast, fast enough to force a reaction out of someone with heightened reflexes.

Just one flick. One shot toward the pavement near them. But then he stopped. His fingers tightened. (Y/n). She was standing too close. If none of those boys were Spider-Man, she could be the one hit. He couldn’t guarantee the prick wouldn’t go astray.

He swallowed the impulse. Not yet. Sunghoon stepped back into the shadows, slipping the weapon away. He would find another moment. One when she wasn’t near them. One when he could push the limits without risking her. He might be a monster for what he wants to do, but he would never intentionally hurt his little sister. Never.

~~~

Three days. That’s how long Sunghoon waited. Three days of watching, calculating, stalking the outskirts of his sister’s world. Three days of trying to identify the spider hiding behind a teenage face. And after three days, he was done. If Spider-Man didn’t show himself, then he’d force him out. Or break him trying.

The freeze began slowly. A shudder in the water lines. A groan in the metal beneath the streets. Then silence. Everywhere. The people of the city didn’t notice at first, not until someone turned on a faucet and nothing came out. Not even a drop. Outside, frost curled over car windows like fingers. Ice crept up stop signs. Breath crystallized in midair. And then came the blackout. The city’s lights died. The air buzzed, and then there was nothing but dark.

Jungwon felt it before he saw it, his spider-sense going wild, buzzing in the back of his head like a drill. He didn’t hesitate. He ran. He suited up, hands shaking only slightly as he pulled his mask down. His ribs still ached from the last fight, but he couldn’t stop. Not now. The city needed him. Even if he lost. Even if it broke him.

People gathered in the streets, wrapped in blankets and all their winter clothes, watching as lightning danced through the sky, not golden, but a strange cold-blue, laced with glittering frost. The clouds above churned like a storm about to snap. And there he stood. Stormchill. Tall. Smiling. Crackling with ice and static.

Across from him was Spider-Man. And the crowd watched. Again. He lunged. He flew. He flipped and dodged and kicked. He spun webs that froze in midair or were snapped by volts. He kept standing. He kept trying. And they murmured. “He should stop,” “He can’t win against that thing,” “but he’s still fighting.” “he’s not giving up.” Some rolled their eyes. Some held their breath.

Some, like (Y/n), Jake, and Niki, sat in Jungwon’s bedroom, staring at the powerless TV, listening to the faint echo of sirens, hearts in their throats. (Y/n) held her phone tight, her thumb pressed to her lips. She whispered, “Please, please come back to me.”

~~~

Stormchill laughed as he vanished into mist and light, leaving behind a city locked in ice and shadows. It took two days for the water to thaw. Two days for power to return. Two days of fear, cold, and quiet.

And when Spider-Man returned home, limping, bleeding, and exhausted. He collapsed into (Y/n)’s arms, his mask barely off before he passed out. She held him tightly, shaking, brushing the hair from his face. Jake and Niki stood by, quietly covering the windows, making sure no one could see inside.

And that night, (Y/n) sat with them in the flickering candlelight, voice steady as she whispered, “We need to make him something better. A suit that’s stronger, faster. Something that can fight this monster. If the city won’t believe in him, we will,” Jake nodded. “Let’s give Spider-Man a fighting chance.” Niki grinned. “Operation Upgrade is on.”

Jungwon now lay asleep in his bed, bruised and worn down, but alive. Just barely. Out in the dining room, the air buzzed with tension and candlelight, scattered tools and notebooks covering the table. (Y/n) rolled her pencil between her fingers. “Okay, so let’s start with the basics, he needs protection. Especially against electricity. What can block or absorb electric shocks?”

Jake rubbed his temples, already flipping through one of his physics books. “Rubber insulates, sure, but it’s too stiff and bulky to move in. We need something flexible and conductive and heat-resistant.” “What about lead?” Niki offered, clearly trying. “That’s in, like, x-ray vests and stuff.” Jake shook his head. “Way too heavy. He’ll be slower than a freezing snail.”

(Y/n) frowned, tapping her sketchbook. “Okay, what about graphene? Didn’t we talk about that in class a while ago?” Jake perked up. “Yes. Graphene is light, flexible, and it conducts electricity insanely well. If we can use it in thin layers as a mesh, we can redirect electricity throughout the suit without letting it shock him directly.”

Niki leaned back. “Cool, but what if the mesh overloads? Like Stormchill’s electricity isn’t regular static, it’s amped-up, crazy villain lightning. That could melt the whole suit.” (Y/n) scribbled a note. “So we need a breaker circuit, something that automatically shuts down the flow if the current gets too strong.”

Jake nodded. “And we can use a cooling gel layer under the mesh, one that keeps his body temp regulated no matter how cold it gets outside.” “Wait, wait,” Niki jumped in, flipping back a sketch. “What about heated pads under the chest plate and boots? Like the ones they use in winter sports. If we wire them with the suit’s power supply, they can keep his joints warm and his webs fluid.”

“I like that,” (Y/n) said, already sketching out the web shooters. “But maybe we ditch the standard web fluid altogether. It freezes too fast. What if we rework it into a thermal-based web formula? Something with chemical heat that activates on contact.” She looked over to Jake, hoping he’d say it was possible.

“That’s brilliant,” Jake muttered. “Thermogenic reaction. It’d prevent Stormchill from freezing the webs mid-flight.” “Okay, but no capes,” Niki said seriously, wagging a finger. “We are not pulling an Incredibles here.” (Y/n) giggled softly. “Agreed. Sleek, no excess. And no visible wires or ports, it all has to be internal.”

“What about a shield?” Jake suggested. “Like a compact one, wrist-mounted?” “No,” (Y/n) said, thinking. “He needs full movement. Anything bulky slows him down. We keep it close to his body. Agility’s his strength, that’s how he’s survived this long.” Niki nodded slowly. “Right. We’re not turning him into Iron Man. He’s still Spider-Man. Just… stronger. Smarter.” They went silent for a beat, looking at the half-drawn suit in front of them now darker, sleeker, smarter. Reimagined not just for battle, but for survival.

She looked toward the closed door where Jungwon slept. “We’re gonna help him win,” she whispered. Jake and Niki exchanged a solemn, united nod. This wasn’t just a plan. This was a promise.

~~~

The morning light crept through the curtains in soft golden beams, casting a warm glow across Jungwon’s face as he slowly stirred awake. He blinked, his body still sore, but his heart eased as he turned his head and saw (Y/n) beside him, her hand wrapped gently around his.

She was still asleep, her brow furrowed just slightly, like she hadn’t stopped worrying even in her dreams. He smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. For a moment, he just lay there, listening to her breathing and the soft sounds of the city slowly coming back to life.

When she finally stirred, her eyes met his, and she gave him a sleepy smile. “Hey,” she whispered. “Hey,” he whispered back, voice raspy. “You scared me.” “I know. I’m sorry.” “You better not do that again.” “I’ll try.” Down the hall, the unmistakable sound of Jake and Niki arguing quietly over cereal broke the silence, followed by the clatter of a spoon and Niki muttering, “Bro, that was vintage Spider-Man cereal. You wasted it.”

(Y/n) chuckled softly, sitting up and stretching before helping Jungwon do the same, careful with his ribs. “Come on, the geniuses want to show you something.” They shuffled into the living room, where papers, notebooks, and a whiteboard had taken over half the space. Jake was pushing his glasses up his nose while Niki was pointing at a page with dramatic flair.

“Ta-da,” Niki said, grinning proudly. “Project Rebirth.” Jake held up the detailed sketch of the new suit, streamlined but sturdy, with reinforced areas for temperature and shock resistance, and sleek gauntlets where the new thermal web shooters would go. Flexible, yet armored. Light, yet insulated.

Jungwon’s eyes widened as he took it all in. “You guys really did all this, for me?” “Well, technically, with (Y/n),” Jake said. “She’s the one who got us all focused.” “And I’m the one who said no capes,” Niki added with a grin. “So, you’re welcome.” Jungwon shook his head in disbelief, a smile growing on his lips. “It’s amazing. Seriously. Maybe with this, I won’t lose again.” “We’re counting on that,” Jake said softly.

“But now comes the tricky part,” (Y/n) added, her expression turning thoughtful. “We’ve got most of the small components. Between school and what Jake’s hoarding in his garage, we can manage a lot.” “But,” Niki said, leaning in. “Some of the key materials, like the cooling gel compound and that advanced mesh we talked about? Not exactly stocked at your local science lab.”

Jake nodded. “Zeus Corp has both. They use the mesh in one of their weather drones and the compound in their cryo-energy experiments.” They all fell silent for a beat. “I could try to get it,” (Y/n) said suddenly, lifting her chin. “I’ll go visit Sunghoon at work. Say I just wanted to see him and maybe ask about his research out of curiosity. I know how to talk to him. If I’m careful, I might be able to get what we need.” Jungwon instantly looked concerned. “Are you sure? It’s risky.” (Y/n) nodded, resolve settling into her voice. “For you? I’m sure.”

~~~

Later that afternoon, after Jungwon had rested and the group had gone over every detail of the suit sketch one last time, the plan was in motion. Jake’s garage had been officially declared their base of operations. With its scattered tools, half-functioning fan, and shelves of spare parts and old projects, it was the perfect workspace. The boys wasted no time.

“Alright,” Jake said, pushing up his sleeves and snapping on a pair of goggles. “We’re gonna start with the suit’s internal wiring which I’ve been hoarding lab-grade poly-fiber cables for three years, so we can use those,”

“You hoard science gear,” Niki muttered. “You’re like a squirrel. A nerd squirrel.” Jungwon, watching them pull apart devices and solder wires, couldn’t help but smile. His ribs still ached, but something about seeing his friends diving into this with him, no hesitation, no complaints, gave him more strength than he expected. “We’ve got your back, man,” Niki said, as if reading his thoughts. “Stormchill’s not gonna know what hit him.”

Meanwhile, across town, (Y/n) was slipping her shoes off along with her jacket as she came home. Her hands fidgeted slightly, not from nerves, but from the weight of what she was about to do.

She found Sunghoon sitting in the kitchen, a coffee mug in one hand and his tablet in the other, deep in some report. “Hey,” she said, walking over casually. He looked up with a rare, warm smile. “Hey. You just coming home?” “Yeah, um, but I was actually wondering something.” Sunghoon set the tablet down. “Shoot.” “I’ve been thinking about internships,” she said, careful to sound relaxed. “I know it’s early, but I thought I could start visiting places I might want to apply to next year.”

His eyebrows rose, clearly intrigued. “I mean, you work at one of the biggest tech companies in the city,” she continued, letting her voice soften just a bit. “And I figured, maybe I could come by? Just look around? I’d feel more comfortable starting somewhere close to someone I trust.” Sunghoon’s smile grew genuine, touched.

“You want to intern at Zeus Corp?” “I want to see if I want to,” she said with a small laugh. “But yeah, I thought I’d start there.” Sunghoon leaned back in his chair, clearly pleased. “You can come by tomorrow. I’ll clear some time in the afternoon and show you around.” “Thanks, Hoon,” she said, walking over to hug him. He returned it without hesitation.

~~~ The next day ~~~

The second the school bell rang, (Y/n) was out the door.

As promised, a sleek black car from Zeus Corp was parked outside the gates. She slipped into the back seat, her backpack sitting heavily in her lap. Only a pencil case and a small note lay inside it, Jungwon had taken the rest of her things, for now, all to fit more supplies in it, hopefully.

The ride to Zeus felt longer than it was. Her fingers drummed nervously against the zipper of her bag as she stared out at the city, her city, the one she was now helping protect in secret. When she stepped into the massive, mirrored lobby of Zeus Corp, the nerves tried to catch up with her, but were quickly quieted by the sight of her brother waiting just past security, smiling warmly as he waved her over.

“You made it,” Sunghoon said, pulling her into a quick hug. “Wouldn’t miss it,” she replied, returning the smile. He started the tour immediately, polished hallways, state-of-the-art labs, long windows showing off the company’s solar-powered tech and hydro-cooling infrastructure. It was genuinely impressive. But all (Y/n) could think about was the small supply list tucked inside her bag, carefully copied from the boys’ sketches.

“Most of our advanced materials come through this wing,” Sunghoon explained as they reached a large steel door marked Resources & Inventory. “I can only show you the main storage, the R&D wing’s off-limits without clearance, but there’s still a lot in here, if you become an intern, a main job will be running in here and getting supplies or returning them, I speak from experience,”

He scanned his ID, and the doors slid open with a faint hiss. The supply room was larger than she expected, stacked with labeled bins, drawers, and shelves of components. Some crates were marked with current project tags, others labeled extra or obsolete. And then there was the bin in the corner: DISPOSAL / SCRAP.

Fate smiled on her. Just as Sunghoon opened his mouth to explain something else, his phone buzzed. “Sorry, give me one second,” he muttered, glancing at the screen. His expression shifted slightly, something urgent. “I have to take this. Just look around, I’ll be right back.” The moment he disappeared around the corner, (Y/n) sprang into action.

She moved quickly but carefully, pulling open drawers, lifting small containers, conductive thread coils, thermal-dampening foam, flex-fiber mesh, cooling gel caps, micro-insulation pads. She recognized almost everything thanks to Jake’s obsessive labeling system and Niki’s doodles on the sketch sheet. She tucked item after item into her bag, even kneeling by the trash can labeled “SCRAP” and finding a half-damaged coil they could probably salvage. She paused only once to listen for footsteps, none.

Finally, she zipped up her bag, fixed it neatly on her shoulder, and slid the drawer she’d opened back into place. Just as she turned around, Sunghoon reappeared, sliding his phone back into his pocket. “Sorry,” he said. “Some production delay in the outer lab.” “No worries,” (Y/n) replied smoothly, her heart racing but her smile calm. “This place is amazing.” Sunghoon chuckled, motioning for her to follow. “Come on. I’ll show you the observation deck. Best view in the city.” As they walked off, he threw an arm casually around her shoulders. She leaned into it, just enough.

After the tour, Sunghoon had to head back into the core labs to handle a call from the executive team. He gave (Y/n) a fond smile and ruffled her hair before walking off, completely unaware of what she’d slipped out of his supply room.

“See you at home,” he called. (Y/n) didn’t linger. The moment she stepped outside, she picked up the pace. She ducked into the first subway entrance she could find, ignoring the ache in her shoulder from the overstuffed backpack. Every step closer to Jake’s place was one closer to making the plan a reality. A new suit. A real shot at winning.

The second she reached the Sim family garage, she banged on the side door and let herself in. Jake looked up from where he and Niki were sorting wires on the table, his eyebrows shooting up. “You’re back early!” Jungwon was sitting on a stool nearby, his ribs still a bit stiff, but his face lit up when he saw her. “Hey! How’d it go?”

(Y/n) didn’t answer right away. Instead, with a dramatic flair, she dropped her backpack onto the worktable and unzipped it. The boys leaned in as she slowly pulled out the supplies one by one. “Thermal dampening gel caps,” Jake murmured, eyes wide. “Conductive flex mesh?” Jungwon said, holding up a silver-lined patch.

Niki whistled, grinning. “Yo, you got the heat-resistant polymer sheets, too?” “Wait, is this… this is aerogel-fused thread?!” Jake suddenly held it up like it was sacred. “Do you know how expensive this stuff is? How did you even?” (Y/n) smirked. “Let’s just say Zeus Corp is more generous than they realize.”

The garage filled with noise, laughter, cheers, metal parts clinking as Jake and Jungwon geeked out over the components, laying them out on the big central table, while Niki paced in excited circles. “This is more than enough,” Jake said, shaking his head in disbelief. “We can actually make this work now. The thermal shielding, the electricity diffusers, this is real superhero-grade tech.”

“I told you I had it handled,” (Y/n) said, leaning back against the counter, arms crossed with a proud grin. Jungwon walked over and wrapped her in a soft, thankful hug. “You’re kind of amazing, you know that?” She hugged him back, careful not to press too hard against his ribs. “Well, someone’s got to make sure you don’t die next time.” They all laughed, but underneath it was the truth. This suit wasn’t just for show. It was for survival. “Alright!” Niki clapped his hands together. “Let’s build a suit that’ll make that frozen lawn gnome cry.”

~~~

Two weeks. That’s how long it had taken to finish the new suit. And in that time, the city had been, quiet. Too quiet. Stormchill hadn’t reappeared. No attacks. No taunting messages. No sign of movement. It was like he had vanished, or worse, like he was waiting for something. And Jungwon could feel it. In the pit of his stomach, in the cold wind that blew too sharply at night. Something was coming. And it wouldn’t be small.

It was 2:37 AM. The city slept, unaware of the battle brewing in the shadows. On a rooftop in the industrial district, Jungwon stood tall in his new suit, the moonlight catching the sleek material, making the lines of embedded mesh and reinforced plates glint softly.

He tugged his mask down and took a slow breath. The fabric was thicker than his old one, warmer too. They’d built in insulation, thermal dampeners, and even a way to ground electricity. Jake had called it “low-key genius,” and honestly, Jungwon couldn’t disagree. But, it didn’t quiet the voice in his head. We’re just kids.

He fired a web and swung forward, letting the wind tear past him as he soared between buildings. The suit moved well, better than expected. No drag. No stiffness. He landed on the side of a tower, stuck fast, then launched again. Swing, twist, land. It worked.

But still, What if it’s not enough? What if next time, Stormchill didn’t retreat? What if the villain didn’t hold back?

He landed on a billboard, crouching, the city spread out below him in shadows and faint glows from backup generators still kicking around the districts that hadn’t fully recovered from the last blackout. This wasn’t just about one man in a mask anymore. It was bigger. Deeper. We built a suit. That’s good. But is it enough to protect everyone I love?

His fingers twitched at the edge of his web shooters, a nervous habit. He thought about (Y/n), about the look on her face when he stumbled home bloody and half-conscious. About Jake and Niki, working tirelessly to fix things neither of them was trained to fix. They had stepped up without question. And he felt that weight every day.

Jungwon jumped off the billboard and swung through the air again, faster this time, pushing the suit to its limits. It held. Every move sharper, more controlled. When he finally returned home, heart pounding, suit humming with the last bit of heat it absorbed, he peeled off the mask and sat on his windowsill, looking out. He still didn’t know if it would be enough. But he knew they were ready to try.

~~~ A few days later ~~~

The city never truly slept, even now, long after midnight, the hum of generators echoed faintly through the streets. Jungwon moved silently across rooftops, getting a feel for the upgraded suit. It clung to his form like a second skin, warmer, smoother, more responsive. But still, his mind wasn’t fully on the tech. Something in his chest felt unsettled. Like a thread being pulled.

He landed on the edge of a low rooftop, scanning the alleyways below. That’s when he saw it. A shimmer of static. A faint glow of electric-blue frost trailing over cracked pavement. Stormchill.

Jungwon flattened himself to the ledge, eyes narrowing behind the lenses of his mask. Stormchill was alone, deep in the shadows of a narrow alleyway between two crumbling buildings. He appeared to be adjusting something in a case, tubes of pressurized energy, wires, and vials of pulsing, icy serum. Too distracted to notice he was being watched.

Spider-Man stayed still. Quiet. Observing. He wasn’t here for a fight, not unless he had to. After a minute, Stormchill stepped back from the case, sighing. Then, he reached up and pulled off his mask. Jungwon’s breath caught in his throat. The man turned, just slightly, just enough for the pale moonlight to catch the sharp lines of his face. Sunghoon.

It was Sunghoon. (Y/n)’s brother. Her kind, responsible, fiercely protective older brother. No. It couldn’t be. His brain rebelled, trying to deny it, but his eyes knew better. The warm brown eyes that glowed icy blue for a second before dimming. Jungwon jerked back as if stung. His heart thundered in his chest. He launched upward, grappling to the nearest rooftop and vanishing into the night like a breath of wind, not daring to look back.

By the time he got home, his mask was off, his suit half-unzipped. He paced the length of his room in silence, fingers buried in his hair. “Sunghoon… Stormchill…” he whispered, the name tasting like rust on his tongue. It didn’t make sense. But it did. Too much of it suddenly did. The cold. The power. The connections. And the worst part? (Y/n). Did she know? Could she know?

He collapsed onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling, jaw clenched so hard it hurt. The thought of fighting Sunghoon twisted something deep in his stomach. Not just because of what he could do, but because of what it would mean.

What if I have to hurt him? What if I have to stop him for good? What happens to her then?

She’d lose her brother. And she might never forgive him. Jungwon curled into himself slightly, guilt and confusion clawing at him like vines. He had no answers. Not yet. But one thing was clear. The next time they met, it would be war. And Jungwon wasn’t sure whose heart would break first.

Jungwon hadn’t slept. Not really. He lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, listening to the hum of the city fighting to return to normal. His mind spiraled endlessly, caught between what he knew and what he wished he didn’t.

Sunghoon was Stormchill. The villain terrorizing the city, freezing entire neighborhoods, shorting out power grids, laughing as he left Spider-Man broken in the snow. Every time Jungwon closed his eyes, he saw (Y/n)’s face. Smiling. Laughing. Kissing his cheek. And right behind that, Sunghoon’s twisted grin, that moment when the mask came off, and everything fell apart.

He wanted to talk to someone. Jake? Niki? Even (Y/n)? But what would he say? What if she knew? What if she had been helping her brother all this time? Jungwon sat up suddenly, breath catching in his throat at the thought. No. No way. That wasn’t possible. If she had been helping Stormchill, Jungwon would already be dead. Sunghoon would’ve struck the moment he found out.

But he hadn’t. Instead, Stormchill had gone quiet. Which meant one thing: He was planning something. Something big. And Jungwon knew he had to be ready. Whether the city turned on him again or not. Whether the new suit held up or not. Whether he was fighting a stranger or someone closer. He clenched his fists. The silence was agony, but the truth would hurt more if it wasn’t timed right. He had to keep it inside, at least for now.

~~~ Thursday ~~~

At first, it was just the lights. A flicker. A low, dying hum. Then everything went black. The school seemed to exhale as the electricity died, heaters, lights, even the soft hum of vending machines gone in an instant. The silence lasted only seconds before the screaming began, followed closely by something worse.

The cold. It wasn’t natural, it didn’t creep in like a winter breeze slipping through a window. No, this cold slammed into them like a tidal wave, sharp and unforgiving. Students cried out as the floor beneath them cracked, the linoleum frosting over with thick, creeping ice that spread fast, crawling up the legs of tables and chairs, making everything slick and brittle.

Jungwon’s breath caught in his throat, not from fear, but from instinct. His spider-sense exploded like a siren in his skull. It was happening. He turned to his friends, Jake, Niki, and (Y/n), urgency in his eyes. “Go,” he said, firm and sharp, already turning to run. “You know the plan!”

He was gone before they could even answer, weaving through students who were either frozen in place or running in panic. He pulled his coat tighter as he rounded a corner, sprinting toward the hidden space they had designated for quick changes.

Behind him, Jake, Niki, and (Y/n) bolted into the hallway, heading straight for their lockers where thick winter coats were stashed in preparation. The lights remained off, no emergency power, no flickers, just total darkness broken only by the blueish glow of ice climbing the walls.

Jake was the first to speak, zipping up his coat with trembling hands. “This is it, isn’t it?” he asked, voice tight with adrenaline and fear. Niki’s eyes were cold but focused. “Yeah,” he said, watching as snow began to fall indoors through a crack in the ceiling. “He’s here.” (Y/n) didn’t say anything.

She stood at her locker with the coat half-zipped, her eyes locked on the door Jungwon had vanished through. Her heart was pounding so hard it echoed in her ears. It wasn’t just cold, it was suffocating. This wasn’t like before. It wasn’t a warning. It wasn’t chaos. It was war. Stormchill had made his move.

Outside the school, the city was falling apart. The temperature had dropped dangerously low in minutes. Cars skidded to a halt and were sealed to the ground by thick layers of fast-forming ice. Trees cracked and shattered. Entire buildings were frozen over as if the city had been placed in a snow globe and shaken violently.

And at the center of it all, somewhere in that storm, was Jungwon, her Jungwon, dressed in a new suit built with every ounce of hope they had left. “Please,” (Y/n) whispered, more to herself than anyone else, her voice shaking with both cold and dread, “please let it be enough.” Because if this suit didn’t work, if this time didn’t end differently, then the city wasn’t the only thing that would be lost.

From the icy sidelines, Jake, Niki, and (Y/n) stood frozen, not just from the biting cold, but from the weight of helplessness crushing down on them. Watching Jungwon barely move after that last blast was torture. Every instinct in them screamed to run forward, to help, to do something, anything, to stop what looked like the end.

They glanced at each other. They were just kids. No powers. No weapons. Just shivering bodies and pounding hearts. But that didn’t matter anymore. “We can’t let him die,” Jake said, voice shaking. “I’m not watching our best friend die like this.” “I’ll take a lightning bolt to the face if I have to,” Niki added, crouching down, hands scrambling over the frozen ground for anything they could use.

(Y/n) didn’t speak, she just nodded, her eyes fixed on Jungwon’s limp form. Then, she moved. They all did. Desperately, they grabbed whatever they could find, a loose chunk of frozen brick, a snapped-off metal pipe, an old traffic cone nearly encased in ice. Their hands burned from the cold, but they didn’t stop. With a sharp cry, they hurled everything they had at the monster at the center of it all.

Stormchill turned just in time to deflect a chunk of brick with his forearm, glaring toward the source of the attack. “What is this?” A metal pipe struck his shoulder, cracking against his armor and making him stagger. Not much. Barely a distraction. But enough. Because as he turned toward the new threat, Jungwon’s fingers twitched. Then came another impact. Then another.

More civilians, emboldened by the sight of the teens throwing anything they could find, began emerging from the icy shadows. A woman flung a snow-covered trash bin. A man hurled a tire. Even a child tossed a rock. They were all cold, all afraid, but not powerless. Not anymore.

Stormchill roared in anger, blasting out an arc of electricity that struck two lampposts, sending sparks scattering through the blizzard. Several people were knocked back, screams cutting through the storm.

(Y/n) cried out, running to help someone who had fallen, but even then, she never took her eyes off Jungwon. Because that’s when it happened. He moved. Slowly at first. A wince. A cough. Then he stood. Wobbling, battered, the glowing accents of his new suit flickering in the cold, but standing. The noise around him dulled, the wind faded to a distant howl, as Jungwon felt it, like a fire in his chest.

Hope. He could feel them. The city. The people. His friends. They weren’t just watching anymore. They were fighting. For him. And suddenly, the weight of guilt, of fear, of doubt, it didn’t disappear, but it shifted. Became something else. Something he could carry.

His voice was hoarse, but strong. “I won’t let you hurt them.” Stormchill whipped around, lightning curling from his fingers, eyes narrowing behind his mask. “You should’ve stayed down,” he hissed.

Jungwon’s stance tightened. He shook out his arms, web-shooters ready. The heating core in the new suit warmed his bones just enough to fight the numbness spreading through him. His eyes locked with Stormchill’s mask, and behind it, Sunghoon. He didn’t want to fight him. Didn’t want to break (Y/n)’s heart. But he would. Because this wasn’t about him anymore. This was about everyone.

The battle was shifting. Every rock thrown, every shout from the crowd, it added fuel to the fire in Spider-Man’s chest. His movements were sharper now, more focused. The new suit held strong under pressure, its insulated layers shielding him from the cold and dampening Stormchill’s electricity just enough to keep him moving. Each web shot landed with precision, each dodge cut closer. Stormchill was faltering.

Jungwon’s muscles burned, lungs ached, but he pushed on. This time was different. He could feel it. The weight of the city wasn’t crushing him, it was lifting him. Behind him, he could hear people cheering. He caught a glimpse of (Y/n) in the crowd, her eyes wide with hope, her lips trembling but curved into the smallest smile. He could win this.

Then Stormchill looked away. His gaze locked onto something in the crowd. A flicker of confusion passed through the villain’s icy features. He paused. Tilted his head. He saw them. Jake, throwing a piece of broken metal. Niki, guiding people out of the crossfire. (Y/n), bandaging someone’s hand, calling orders. Too familiar. Too obvious. And Jungwon wasn’t with them.

Stormchill’s laugh was hollow. Slow. A shiver passed through the street, and not from the cold. He turned back to the boy in the dark red and blue suit. Spider-Man raised his fist to strike, one final hit. He hoped at least. But Stormchill didn’t move. Instead, he stared straight into his masked face and spoke with eerie calm. “Tell me, Jungwon, Do you really think a mere kid can stop a storm like mine?”

Jungwon froze mid-swing. His heart stuttered. His breath hitched. His name. He said his name. No. No, how? His mind raced. Had (Y/n) betrayed him? No. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. But if she hadn’t, then how? He hesitated. And that was all it took. A crack of thunder split the air.

Stormchill thrust out his arm and fired a bolt of lightning more powerful than anything Jungwon had ever felt. It slammed into his chest like a wrecking ball, sending searing heat and energy through the suit. Systems sparked. Pain exploded across his body. He screamed. Then the world flipped sideways. His body hit the pavement hard, skidding across ice and snow, crashing into a parked car. And everything went still.

Stormchill raised his hand again, the crackle of electricity surging through his fingertips, ice creeping along the ground in jagged veins as the air thickened with static. He took a slow step forward, the storm building behind him, a monstrous force ready to be unleashed. This was it. One final strike to wipe the spider off the map.

(Y/n) saw it. She saw the glow in Stormchill’s hand, saw the sparks dancing across his palm, saw Jungwon’s body lying crumpled in the snow. Not moving. Not even groaning. Her heart stopped.

“No! no no no,” she whispered, stumbling forward before she even realized her feet were moving. She broke from the crowd, Jake’s voice yelling her name somewhere behind her, but she didn’t hear it. She couldn’t. She only saw him. Jungwon. Her Jungwon.

His mask was slightly ripped, chest rising and falling shallowly. She dropped to her knees in the snow, her arms wrapping around him, shielding him with her body, her warmth. Her tears dropped onto his suit, freezing as soon as they touched the fabric.

“Please,” she whispered into his ear. “Please, you can’t leave me.” Stormchill froze. Just a few steps away, his lightning fizzled mid-air. He stared at the girl holding the hero. His storm calmed for just a moment, still fierce, still dangerous, but, quiet. Then his voice rang out, cold and sharp. “Move.”

(Y/n) looked up at him. Her arms only tightened around Jungwon’s body. “No.” He clenched his fist. “I said move, now.” “No!” she shouted this time, her voice cracking, her body trembling. “You’ll have to go through me.”

And then, he said it. Her name. No, not her name. A name only one person in the world used for her. A soft, childish nickname born from laughter and late-night stories and sibling secrets. “Yinnie.” She flinched. Her eyes went wide. No. It couldn’t be. Couldn’t.

She stared up at the masked villain. At the cold, electric fury behind that armor. She stared harder at the stance, thinking of the voice. No, no. “Sunghoon?” she whispered, her voice barely audible. And the storm stilled. For just one breath.

Jungwon’s eyes cracked open to a world of chaos and cold. The air was thick with frost, every breath slicing through his lungs like shards of glass. His body screamed in protest as he forced himself upright, vision still blurry, until it wasn’t.

He saw her. (Y/n). She was on her knees beside him, her arms wrapped around his limp body, her head bowed as she cried, not from fear, but heartbreak. And then she looked up. The figure before them, half-hidden in a storm of his own making, stilled. Slowly, with a deliberate calm that felt more dangerous than any lightning or ice, he reached up and pulled the cracked, half-broken mask from his face.

And there he was. Sunghoon. Her brother. No longer the warm, overprotective sibling she’d known, but the villain who’d nearly killed her boyfriend, who had frozen a city to its bones, who had turned himself into a storm. “No…” she whispered, stumbling backward, voice thin, breaking. “No, it can’t be you…” Sunghoon didn’t flinch. He didn’t deny it.

“I didn’t want it to be like this,” he said. His voice was steady, but there was something fractured beneath it, something brittle, like ice under too much weight. “You weren’t supposed to know. You weren’t supposed to see.” “See what?” she shouted, tears mixing with the frost that clung to her lashes. “The monster you’ve become?”

His jaw tightened. “You don’t understand.” “Then help me understand! Why are you doing this?!” “I’m fixing the world,” he said, stepping closer, his presence making the air colder still. “I’m saving it from people who keep letting it fall apart. No one listens. No one changes. I have the power to do what no one else can.”

“At what cost?” Her voice cracked. “You nearly killed people. You’re hurting innocent people. You froze a city, Sunghoon!” He sighed. Then, as if realizing that he couldn’t reason with her, not like this, he raised a hand. The air around (Y/n) shifted, grew heavy. And before she could move, a wall of jagged, glassy ice erupted around her, forming a dome, clear but unbreakable. She screamed as she was lifted off the ground, shoved to the side, imprisoned like a fragile memory he couldn’t bear to lose.

“No, no! Don’t do this!” she cried, pounding her fists on the walls. “Let me out!” “You’ll be safe in there,” he said, looking away from her. “I can’t let you get hurt.” “I’m already hurt, Sunghoon! You’re hurting me!” Inside the cage, her voice echoed and cracked, and every hit she landed on the ice seemed to hit Sunghoon too. He winced, but didn’t undo it.

Jungwon, still groggy, watched all of it unfold. And slowly, with every painful breath, with every trembling limb, he pushed himself off the frozen ground. His eyes didn’t leave hers, not once. She turned to him as he stood. She didn’t speak, but he could see everything in her eyes: grief, fear, hope, desperation. He couldn’t let her down. He wouldn’t. Sunghoon turned back to Jungwon, his fists crackling with electricity again. “You should’ve stayed down,” he said. Jungwon wiped a line of blood from the corner of his mouth. “You don’t get to decide that.”

They collided again, lightning and webbing, ice and fists. The city around them trembled as the storm intensified. But this time, something was different. Jungwon didn’t fight with anger or vengeance. He fought with heart. For her. For the people still huddled in the cold, waiting. For the friends who believed in him. “You think you’re saving the world,” Jungwon shouted as he dodged a blast of lightning, “but you’re just breaking it more!” Sunghoon snarled, ice spearing out from the ground beneath Jungwon’s feet. Jungwon flipped high into the air, landing with precision and lashing a web across the villain’s chest.

“She’s crying because of you,” he continued, striking hard, “because the most important family she has became the very thing she’s afraid of!” Another blow. Sunghoon staggered. “You locked her in a cage, and called it love.” Sunghoon faltered. The ice crawling up his arms stuttered. The storm around them flickered. Jungwon narrowed his eyes, his voice lowering. “She looked up to you. She believed in you. And you broke her.”

A crack in the mask that wasn’t on his face. Sunghoon stumbled back, gaze flicking toward the icy cage where his sister had gone quiet, crouched in the middle, hands pressed to the walls, tears streaming down her cheeks. For a moment, just a moment, Jungwon saw him hesitate. His powers dimmed. The frost slowed. It was working.

Blow after blow, Jungwon fought for the people shivering in their homes, for the friends who stood beside him with nothing but hope in their hands, and most of all, for her. Every strike Jungwon landed echoed with the weight of her tears. And Sunghoon, Sunghoon wasn’t fighting back the same anymore. His mind was somewhere else.

Through the haze of pain and frost, his gaze wandered, toward the cage of ice he’d built out of desperation, out of fear. And through the transparent walls, he saw her: (Y/n), curled in on herself, tears glistening like diamonds on her cheeks, breath fogging up the space in front of her. Her lips trembled as she silently mouthed his name again. Not Stormchill. Sunghoon.

He staggered. For a moment, he didn’t see the battlefield. He didn’t feel the cold wind biting at his skin or the weight of the city on his shoulders. He saw a memory. A little girl no more than five years old, in footie pajamas, hair mussed from sleep, eyes wide with the aftermath of a nightmare. She clutched a stuffed bunny and stood in the doorway of his room.

“Can I sleep here? The thunder’s too loud.” And he had smiled. A real smile. “Always.” She’d crawled into bed beside him and tucked herself under his arm like a puzzle piece. He was her safe place. Her shield. Her brother. Now, he was her fear. Her cage. The monster.

That realization split something in him, deeper than any punch could land. His fingers twitched. The frost trailing his arms began to grow erratic. The storm above flickered wildly, as if uncertain. A tremor ran through the ice under his feet. Jungwon paused, panting, watching carefully. Something was happening.

The air shifted. The winds fell still. The city seemed to take a collective breath. And then, the ice began to move. Not outward. Not toward the streets or the people or Jungwon. It moved inward, toward Sunghoon. “No” he breathed, eyes wide as he stumbled back. A thin sheet of frost crept up his boots. He tried to summon a burst of electricity to stop it, to force it back, but nothing came. His hands sparked weakly, then fizzled.

The cold was no longer his to command. It was reclaiming him. The snow on the ground lifted gently, drawn toward him in shimmering tendrils. The jagged spears of ice embedded in buildings and cars cracked and broke free, sliding slowly across the ground like iron filings pulled by a magnet, all converging on him.

Sunghoon fell to his knees. “No” he whispered, breath fogging thick as smoke. “Not like this,” But it was too late. The ice climbed him like vines, wrapping around his arms, curling over his shoulders, spreading across his back. He turned his face one last time toward (Y/n), whose sobs had quieted to a stunned silence, her hand still pressed to the wall of her cage.

And in that last moment, her eyes locked with his. He wanted to speak. To say I’m sorry, or I love you, or Please remember who I was, but the words never came. Instead, all she heard was the soft crackle of ice forming over skin. His expression, open, vulnerable, broken, froze in place as the final layer of crystalline frost sealed over him, encasing him fully. Stormchill, Sunghoon, became still.

A statue of ice. One that wouldn’t melt. Not under any sun. Not under any storm. The ice cage around (Y/n) cracked and fell away, disappearing like dust. Jungwon caught her just before she fell forward. She didn’t cry again, not yet. She just stared at the shape of her brother, frozen mid-kneel, hands half-open, face locked in quiet agony. The storm had ended. But the damage it left behind was just beginning.

(Y/n) sat in Jungwon’s arms like a ghost of herself, her breathing shallow and ragged. The bitter cold still lingered in the air, but it was nothing compared to the frost that had settled over her heart.

Jake and Niki ran toward them, their footsteps crunching softly against the snow. Niki skidded to a stop beside them, eyes wide and stunned. Jake crouched on the other side, hesitating for only a second before placing a steadying hand on (Y/n)’s back, though he didn’t say a word, no one did.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, but she didn’t sob. They spilled quietly, endlessly, like a river she couldn’t turn off. Her eyes never left him. Sunghoon. Frozen mid-motion, his expression still gentle, almost human, as if the monster had melted away in that final second, leaving only her brother behind.

Her brother. The one who used to braid her hair with more focus than he gave to his homework. The one who sang to her when she was sick, voice off-key and cracking but always full of heart. The one who painted her nails every Friday night just because she liked having someone to do it with.

Gone. He was right there and gone all at once. A statue. A warning. A memory. (Y/n)’s voice broke in a whisper, her body trembling. “He used to wake me up early just to see the sunrise, said it reminded him of me.” No one responded. How could they? She drew her knees tighter to her chest, curling further into Jungwon’s arms. “He wasn’t this. Not always. He wasn’t a villain,”

Her voice cracked around the word like it physically hurt to say. Jungwon pulled her closer, resting his chin gently atop her head, his own eyes damp. He knew she needed this silence, the space to mourn, to remember, to shatter and maybe someday begin to rebuild. But not today. Today she could be broken. Today, the world could wait.

Behind them, the city began to stir, civilians carefully emerging from buildings, the winds calm now, the snow already softening. Emergency sirens echoed faintly in the distance, but here, in this small frozen corner of a street, time stood still. None of them looked away from the ice statue.

Jake finally broke the silence, his voice hoarse. “We should get out of here soon. The authorities-” “No,” (Y/n) said quietly, cutting him off without malice. Her eyes locked once more on her brother. “I’m not leaving him. Not yet.” Jungwon’s grip on her tightened just slightly.

They stayed like that a little longer, a boy holding a girl whose world had cracked in two, two friends keeping watch over the shattered remains of something they couldn’t fully understand, over the fallen storm they had survived. The villain was gone. But so was far more than just that.

~~~

The day of the battle, after everything had calmed down, Jungwon had gently convinced her to leave. They slipped away right before the authorities arrived, before the flashing lights and questions and headlines could swallow them whole. The city might have been saved, but she was still lost.

The police contacted her parents, and the truth shattered their world too, their son, their pride, the boy they’d raised, had become the very thing they never saw coming. Their grief mirrored (Y/n)’s, but she couldn’t face it, couldn’t go home and look at the photos of him smiling in picture frames, couldn’t sit at the dinner table where he used to make them laugh. So she stayed at Jungwon’s.

Seven days passed in a blur of silence and quiet meals. She rarely spoke. She didn’t cry anymore, her tears had run dry. She simply sat, or lay curled in a blanket, lost in the echo of memories she couldn’t push away. And through it all, Jungwon never left her side. He made tea she didn’t drink. He held her through the nightmares. He kissed her temple in the mornings and told her he was proud of her for waking up. He tried, oh, how he tried, even when it hurt him too.

And then, on the seventh day, she finally spoke. It was just after sunset, the sky painted in soft streaks of orange and lavender. They sat on the porch wrapped in one of his old blankets, the air still cold but not biting anymore. “Thank you,” she said softly, her voice hoarse from disuse. Jungwon turned to her, heart aching. “For what?” “For saving the city,” she said. “For stopping him.”

He didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry,” he whispered after a moment, eyes cast downward. “I’m sorry I had to hurt him. That I hurt you.” But she shook her head slowly. “You don’t need to apologize. Even if it hurts, even if it always will, he had to be stopped. Someone had to do it.” She drew in a breath, shaky but steady. “And maybe this, maybe this was the better ending. Bitter, yes. But peaceful. For all of us. Maybe, maybe even for him.”

Jungwon didn’t respond with words. He simply pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair as he held her tighter. They sat there as the sky dimmed, wrapped in warmth and grief, in the quiet understanding that the world they once knew would never be the same, but that they would move forward, step by step, heart by heart. And as the first stars began to peek through the sky, Jungwon kissed her forehead gently, silently vowing to help her carry the weight of what had been lost. Together.

~~~

It was a month after Stormchill had been stopped when (Y/n) and her family finally got some answers.

The authorities had gone through everything, his storage units, his old journals, and finally, his private office at Zeus Corp. That’s where they found it. A locked drawer tucked beneath layers of fake documents, old prototypes, and broken tech. Inside was a black folder, neatly sealed. And within it were three envelopes, one addressed to their mother, one to their father, and one to (Y/n), written in her brother’s careful, familiar handwriting.

The letters didn’t erase the grief, but they gave the family something they had desperately needed: closure. A glimpse into the man he used to be, and the choices that led him down the path he took.

Later that evening, (Y/n) sat in Jungwon’s room, the folded paper trembling slightly in her hands. Jake and Niki were there too, all of them pausing their usual late-night research and hero strategy sessions. It had been quiet for a while, they still worked to keep Spider-Man in the city’s good graces, but without any big threats, the world had taken a breath. And now, so had she.

“I want you to hear it,” she said softly, breaking the silence. “You were there through all of it. You deserve to know, too.” She unfolded the letter and began to read:

“Dear (Y/n),

If you’re reading this, it means I didn’t come back. And I’m sorry, for everything. I don’t know what you saw, what I did, or how far I went, but please believe that I never meant for it to end this way.”

“I never told anyone, not even you, but a year ago, there was an accident at Zeus Corp. A storm containment prototype malfunctioned during a private trial I was running. It was supposed to harness atmospheric energy, a limitless source of clean power. But it wasn’t stable. I got caught in the core during the overload. The energy surged through my body. At first, I thought I’d die.”

“But I didn’t. Instead… I changed.”

“I could feel the air shifting around me. I could draw cold from nothing, summon electricity with a thought. At first, it was terrifying. Then, it felt like a gift. Like power I was meant to use.”

“I started small. I helped stop minor crimes. You remember the night the museum thief was found frozen? That was me. But the more I used it, the more it used me. The cold got inside, (Y/n). Not just in my veins, but in my head. It numbed me. The world started to feel, wrong. Corrupt. I thought maybe I could fix it, freeze it, rebuild it clean.”

“But that’s not how heroes think, is it? I told myself I was doing good, but deep down, I knew I was lying. I was angry. I felt like no one listened, not the board at Zeus, not the people in charge. So I decided to force them to listen.”

“I became what I thought the world needed. And in doing that, I lost who I was.”

“You were the last thing that kept me warm. The last piece of me that still felt like Sunghoon. I hope, if nothing else, you remember me as I was before. Not the storm. Just your brother.”

Love,

Sunghoon.”

The room was still. Jake swallowed hard, brushing at his eyes. Niki didn’t say anything, just stared at the floor, fists clenched. And Jungwon, he moved closer, pulling (Y/n) gently into his arms. “He was trying to do the right thing,” she whispered. “He just, got lost.”

“Yeah,” Jungwon murmured, his voice soft. “But you didn’t. You helped stop him, (Y/n). You brought him back, even if it was just for a moment.” They stayed like that for a while, four kids in a quiet room, holding onto each other, still bearing the weight of a city, of a fallen brother, of everything they’d lost.

But they also held onto something else: Hope. Hope that maybe, in sharing the truth, they could help others too. And maybe that’s what Sunghoon had wanted all along.

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