chryslerbuildingfeathers

[chryslerbuildingfeathers]

A Change

(Angst, Character Death)

Rain fell heavy over Danny as he limped away.

The wreckage of the GIW Base burning bright green behind him, along with the blood dripping down his leg.

Weeks? Months? Years? Had passed since his parents gave him away. He wonders if Clockwork saw this coming - if this was worth avoiding Dan.Danny wasn't so sure anymore. He'd give a lot at this point, just to take away the pain.

He wonders what Jazz would say, if she could live and breathe and speak again.Regardless, Danny's definitely learned his lesson: The world just wants to take from him.

And he can feel in his core something.. Changing. Protection can mean a lot of things, but he thinks he's narrowed it down.

There's himself, strangers, and enemies he's yet to kill. Anything else is.. Dangerous. Too much to bear.

[chryslerbuildingfeathers]

Late Night

Sokka finds Zuko after dark, long after the campfire's gone cold. He's lying awake, lost in thought, staring into the stars.

"Do you ever wonder-" He starts to say, pauses, then starts anew. "Do you ever wonder where we'd be today with happy childhoods?"

Sokka, unexpectedly, can't think of a joke. He opens his mouth and sound comes out, but he's not expecting the words.

"I hope we'd still be together, us five."

Zuko startles at the voice, and at the meaning if Sokka understands the expression he's reading. Sokka's startled too. And though he's never been the most in touch with his emotions, he finds that meaning strikes true.

"Maybe in another life," Sokka carries on, "I'd be the one to find you."

Zuko breathes in a deep, long breath, and turns to Sokka with that starry gaze that resonates something deep within his chest.

"One day after the war is over, one day I'll hold you to that."

[chryslerbuildingfeathers]

Christina's Adventure

Christina is a warrior. Her village's only warrior, in fact. And it is her sworn, solemn duty to protect.

…Which would be a whole lot easier if there weren't an invisible monster arriving every night to attack.

Obviously, she needs to stop that.

Christina decides that if she can't see the monster to fight it, the next best thing is defense.

So she sets out with an axe and builds great sturdy spiked walls all through the day; until her village is completely sheltered.

When the sun sets Christina collapses with a sigh, satisfied her home is safe.

…Only to find in the morning another building destroyed! All her efforts turned to waste.

Christina groans in frustration. So much for that plan. Looks like she'll have to find another way.

She closes her eyes and thinks and thinks hard, only distracted by the sounds of the day.

That's it, she realizes! If she can't see the monster, she’ll just have to learn to fight with her ears.

She fixes a blindfold over her eyes, stands carefully, and draws her sword. For days and days she swings and stabs and listens hard to the sounds of battle.

Each night a new building falls to the beast, and adds to her fervor.

Finally, she achieves greater sense. She can dodge by the sound of wind alone.

Christina is ready to face the monster.

She stands guard for her village that night, still blind, but aware far more.

The monster arrives and with two mighty roars, the duo begin their battle!

The heavy crunch of scaled feet, talons digging into earth, the cries of rancid breath mixed with snarls-

Christina jumps and swings, stabs and rolls. Finally, with one last mighty heave of her sword, the monster falls! The threat is no more.

She's done it, she's won! Her village is safe. Christina grins in victory, and plans to soon take a holiday

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61862290

[chryslerbuildingfeathers]

Naked men gossip????

Witchcraft, Wisdom, Death...

[chryslerbuildingfeathers]

Teaching A Hatchling To Sing

Thinking of the Bats always leaves a bad taste in Dinah’s mouth. Children raised to follow in his mission, his war; joining the fray before they’re out of elementary school.

She understands tragedy, vengeance, and grief. She understands limiting dangers: If you’re going to do drugs, do them at home where I can watch you - If you’re going to risk your life fighting crime, do it with me where I can try to save you.

Except, is Batman truly saving them? And no, she’s not talking about the death of Jason Todd. There’s a careful line to tread between supervising and enabling. When the biggest bond your family holds is unrelenting trauma, is there really any choice to pull away, heal, and let go?

It’s a complicated matter, and Dinah's never been close enough to them to justify a complete stance. They circle each other's periphery, prowl the same watering holes. She’s not their therapist.

But do they even see one?

All of this races back through her mind at once as she enters her office to the sight of a tiny, pale child. Cocooned in a yellow cape, shuddering and sobbing. Tim Drake, her nephew. Robin.

She hasn’t seen him since the day Batman introduced him to the league. Before that, a random gala. Clearly, she's missed something big.

“Oh, Timmy.” She addresses, keeping her voice gentle. “Are you okay? Does Bruce know you’re here?” Anything harsher and it feels like the kid would surely shatter.

Tim sniffles and shakes his head. A head of poorly dyed green hair, Dinah realizes. With streaming tears bleeding lines down his clown makeup. Oh god.

“H-He can’t Kn-Know.” Tim gasps out between spasms and shivers. “H-he’d blame H-himself, and never- Huh-Ha! N-never trust me again!”

Tim giggles and sobs and every piece of Dinah’s heart breaks for him as the room fills with horrible laughter.

—

One month. Tim had been missing in the hands of the Joker for one month, and Bruce never contacted the league for help. Never called in the other bats. Never even reported him missing.

Did he even notice?

Tim was kidnapped, beaten, drugged, burned, electrocuted, and hurt in nearly every way imaginable by Batman’s worst enemy - and Bruce didn’t even notice.

Tim had to convince Harley Quinn to help him out of his chains, and then shoot Joker straight through the chest to escape. And now here he is, sobbing on Dinah’s floor, terrified his foster father will never forgive him for it.

Tim Drake is thirteen.

Dinah feels sick. She feels like screaming at Bruce, at the other bats, at Harley, and at the Joker’s corpse. How could anyone allow this to happen? How could the universe allow this to take place?! How could Dinah, herself?!?

She holds together for her nephew’s sake, and starts thinking about their options instead:

Tim needs a doctor, therapy, safety, and a support system.

How can she help him best?

—

As an accepted full-time member of the Justice League in good standing, and licensed foster placement, Black Canary can file for immediate anonymous emergency protective custody of a minor pending in-person review by two other full-time members in good standing.

Bruce Wayne’s gross neglect in his probationary guardianship of Timothy Jackson Drake, coupled with his high-profile status and own part-time standing in the league - and Tim’s current extremely fragile state - fit the necessary requirements for filing. Bruce Wayne is a present and immediate danger to Tim's wellbeing.

Dinah can, should, and will protect her nephew.

She contacts the two most impartial, discreet, and trustworthy league members she knows, and has the paperwork ready in twenty minutes.

Tim doesn’t like the situation, and worries that without him Batman will go off the deep end again. Dinah tells Tim that his own well-being is far more important right now.

Tim looks at her like she’s started growing feathers.

J’onn J’onzz and Jay Garrick approve her decision.

Dinah Drake Lance gains temporary custody of an anonymous child.

—

Later, after getting Tim settled into their new apartment, she begins piecing together how to handle circumstances with her boyfriend. The situation is a tricky one.

Protocol, and this situation in particular, dictates that as few people as possible know she’s taken custody of Tim. But people will definitely notice her taking a leave of absence from the league, and she can't just suddenly push Ollie away for no reason. Nor does she want to.

The solution comes in the form of a half truth:

“That’s horrible! I can’t believe anybody could abandon a kid like that, let alone relatives of yours!”

“Yeah, I’m still reeling from it myself.”

“Well, you let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. And tell - Er, what was the kid’s name again?”

Dinah anxiously turns to said kid. They forgot to decide on a pseudonym! Tim blinks at her owlishly from his blanket nest on the couch.

“Dinah? You there?”

“Err, yeah, sorry. They go by~” She stretches the last word out, still looking toward Tim.

“Ti-, Ma-, Er, um, VEE!” Tim stutters and blurts out in panic.

“Vee?” Ollie checks.

“Yeah, uh” Tim buries his face in his hands. “Short for Sylvie?” He squeaks.

“Oh! And that was Sylvie?” Ollie asks Dinah.

Dinah laughs and heads into another room. “Yeah. They wanted to do their own introduction, but they’re not used to talking to people after being abandoned for so long. So I wasn’t sure if they'd be up for it.” She explains smoothly.

“Ah, that makes sense. Poor kid. Well, I’ve gotta go now, duty calls! Tell Sylvie I hope they get well soon!”

“Will do!”

When Dinah returns to the living room, Tim looks like he’s about to combust from blushing.

“Relax kiddo, we can always come up with an excuse to change it later.” She ruffles his hair fondly.

“N-no. It’s okay.” The kid fidgets and half buries his face in one of his blankets. “I’ve kinda been thinking about that one for a while.”

Dinah looks them over carefully.

“Ohh. Sylvie, huh? I like it.”

“Yeah?” Sylvie peaks out tentatively.

“Yeah. It suits you.”

[chryslerbuildingfeathers]

Paint By Numbers

Bob is having a nice night to himself. Warm, relaxed, and comfortable. Completely dissolved into his couch. He’s had a very long, tiring day, and now it's his time to kick back.

Unfortunately for Bob, he needs his remote to change the channel on his tv. He does not like this channel, and he does not have his remote. The host of the current show is an incredibly boring, monotone man. Bob shifts in his seat uncomfortably.

He can see the remote. It’s sitting right there in front of him. On his coffee table. He’s never hated the concept of movement more than he does now; and his very soul is a pool of syrup. Still, the technology taunts him. Beckons him. He channels what little willpower he has into a slow, treacherous, heavy lean forward. He stretches out his fingertips, and… No!

It’s too far to reach sitting down!

Bob slumps pathetically. He supposes he’s stuck like this. The T.V. host continues talking about juice? Yep, juice. Concentrates and sugars, farms and levels of ripeness. Oh well, Bob supposes. At least the show isn’t annoying or anything. The host blathers on, and, yeah, this is fine. The presentation is decent, at least. Learning more about fruit can’t hurt. Bob is ready to accept this fate.

That is, until the talkshow abruptly ends, and is instead replaced by The Worst Sitcom of All Time! You know the one. Bob can’t believe his bad luck. How is this even still airing? The actors have the most annoying voices, and absolutely none of the jokes land. Bob groans in frustration; he just can’t take this.

He pulls himself to his feet with renewed vigor; ready to do anything necessary to turn off this garbage show! Only to find… No, it can’t be? That strange, intense tingling sensation flooding through him, nearing on almost painful- Both of Bob’s legs are asleep! The discomfort is enough to knock him back down instantly, and he lands in a tragic heap. It just isn’t worth it.

And yet, the T.V. is still playing that awful noise. Droning, on and on. A cacophony of half baked punchlines and empty characters, without a hint of relief in sight. Bob’s sanity is quickly rushing further and further away. He has to get up.

Bob leans his body forward once again, and scooches with all his might. Closer, closer, closer! Until he’s perched on the very edge of his seat. Can he do it? Does he have the will!? Bob shifts and strains and reaches out his hand, and… Yes!

He’s got it!

Bob has got the remote!

Bob swiftly switches off the entire cursed television, drops his remote back onto his coffee table, and drags himself to bed. He has had far more than enough mindless entertainment. Now he can relax at last without a struggle. No more noise, no more discomfort. Just comfy blankets and pillows. Bob lets out a warm, satisfied exhale, and drifts off to watch wonderful dreams. Goodnight Bob.

[chryslerbuildingfeathers]

Buried Energy

Tony stood, mouth agape, and stared in awed silence at the whirlwind ripping through his lab.

Machinery everywhere had come to life, fabricating, mixing, and processing. Blueprints were scattered across the floor. DUM-E hid in the corner. Were those.. Fresh drones? Flying through the air?

The chaos was boggling, and bouncing eclectically through it all was none other than the tiny unassuming kid he'd picked up from Queens: Peter B. Parker.

"...Peter?" Tony called, when his voice finally came back to him.

The kid froze for a moment, then pulled out an earbud and turned.

"...Yes, Mr. Stark?"

"What're ya up to, kid?"

The boy's eyes widened comically, and he tilted his head sideways as he looked up toward the billionaire. Briefly resembling a dog who'd caught the word 'walk.'

"You really want to hear about it Mr. Stark? You won't be annoyed?"

"I- Of course. That's why I asked ya' Peter."

Peter's eyes grew even wider, and a rush of happiness washed over his entire face. Tony's curiosity grew.

He'd known the kid for a few months now, mentoring him on all the ins-and-outs of the hero business. Basic first aid, de-escalation techniques, how to console victims and avoid collateral damage - All the important stuff people don't consider when they picture crimefighting. Peter took to it like glue.

After all that hard work, Tony thought the kid could use a day to relax a bit. He knew Peter liked science, so he thought he'd show him around his personal lab. Maybe let him play around with it some.

Unfortunately, after giving his brief tour, he got called away to a buisness meeting. So he'd turned to the kid, told him "Go crazy," and left. Which brings us to now.

And the biggest smile Tony Stark has ever seen directed toward him:

"IwascheckingouttheHolodesignerandInoticedacoupleblueprintsyou'dstartedbuthadn'thadtimetoworkonandIrealizedthereweresomegreatwaystorefinethemsoIdidand-"

"Kid, I'm listening, but I do need you to breath-"

The kid startled, paused, then took a deep breath.

"S-So, anyway, I did the blueprints and then they reminded me of this idea I had for a web bomb. See, I wanted something with more concussive force to break up larger groups, like one of your repulsor blast settings can do- and then I realized it could be way more effective if I used webs! But the fluid formula would need changed so-"

"So it can be properly distributed by the blast and not immediately solidify into one connected chunk." Tony interrupted, nodding along with the boy who was now jumping in place.

"OH MY GOD, YES, EXACTLY!!"

"That's really cool, Peter. Do you mind if I look over your work on the blueprints while you continue your web bomb project?"

"Of course not!!! Does that mean I can get back to it now, Mr. Stark??" 

"Go for it."

Tony smiled and chuckled lightly at Peter's enthusiasm as he glanced over all the notes and design changes. These.. Weren't new ideas he'd had.

These were projects he'd worked on for months. Only, better. Scribbled all over with improvements he wanted to kick himself for not coming up with before. On top of that, the coding had been completely reworked and made more efficient than ever.

Tony barely even recognized or understood the chemical formulas Peter had fixed for medicine that'd work on Steve's super-metabolism; but Fri's simulations deemed them successful.

Was Tony's brain.. Broken? How had he never realized this before??

Somehow, it came completely out of left field. He'd seen the kid solve puzzles before, and heard him mention his love of tech and chemistry. How he'd come up with the web formula himself, how he'd gotten into a stem school on an educational scholarship. Casual background information like that. This though?

He needed to call May, he needed to call the kid's school, he needed to tell Pepper about this.

The words found their way out his mouth before he could even process them:

"Kid, I knew you were smart, but you never told me you were a genius!"

The room went strangely, completely silent.

Tony glanced up from the holotable, confused, and saw Peter had frozen. His face was completely flushed, and his eyes were.. Watery?

"I- I've gotta go, Mr. Stark, sir. I-I'm late for- Late for- yeah. Bye!" The kid stuttered, and then promptly turned on his spidersuit, and jumped out the window.

--

That.. Was weird. Even for a kid who's half spider.

Tony sat awkwardly in place as he watched the kid swing away. "Did that just happen?" He asked his now empty lab. The lab did not respond.

Tony's never been the best at social interactions, but he could've sworn everything was going well. The kid was excitedly talking up a storm, jumping all over the place, and then he just. Left? Was he bashful? Embarrassed?

"Hey Friday, 'genius' is still a good thing, right?"

"It appears so, sir."

"..Hm. Do me a favor and call Pepper, will you?"

"Right away, boss."

"So he's a genius?"

"I mean, I haven't exactly had him tested, but yeah. It looks like it."

"And he.. Reacted badly to this?"

"He literally jumped out a window when I told him." Tony laughed, half painfully.

"Well that's not good. I can't exactly say Iʻm surprised at the news, but-"

"Pepper, I think he's smarter than me. And he didn't even *say anything* about it. Why wouldnʻt he say anything about it, Pepper? We talk about being nerds all the time, but never- Did I do something wrong?"

Pepper paused, thoughtfully.

"I don't think so Tony, but maybe- He might be.. I think you should ask May about it."

"May, huh? Alright, thanks Pep."

Friday ends the call, and Tony is about to make a new one to Pete's Aunt, when he pauses. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices a large red schoolbag. Peter's schoolbag. Maybe this conversation would be better in person?

--

The next morning, after a brief text to May, Tony drags Happy away from his office and nervously begins the ride to Queens. Something about yesterday just won't stop nagging at him. It really shouldn't be a big deal, it was just one awkward conversation. Maybe Peter just panicked? Or got too excited and needed to swing out the excess energy? He had been hopping around and speaking a million words per second, after all. But actually, it wasn't just yesterday, was it? The more Tony thought about, the more he realized this wasn't just a one time thing. Strange pieces of otherwise inane conversations shifted uncomfortably in his head.

Peter suddenly freezing when Tony entered a room. Peter flinching when Tony turned up his radio. Peter stifling himself when Tony was *sure* the kid knew more than he was letting on.. They were all part of a bigger picture. One Tony couldn't put together just yet, but could feel pressing just beneath the surface.

Itʻs a bright and sunny Sunday, and traffic is impressively calm for New York. Happy sends pointed glances at him through the rearview mirror. Tony ignores him.

After a long, weird silence, the bodyguard's will finally breaks.

"Something wrong with the kid?"

Tony sighs.

"Happy, did you ever notice how smart Peter is?"

"Well yeah Tony, he does go to a fancy STEM school."

"No, I mean.. What do you think of him? How would you describe him, to someone that doesn't know him?"

"Well, I don't know, Boss. He's a weird, kinda nerdy kid who's always got way too much going on."

"Weird how, though, Happy?"

"...What is this about, Tony?"

Tony's really not sure. Their conversation is cut short as they finally pull up to the Parker's rundown apartment building.

--

Tony shuffles awkwardly in place after knocking on the Parker's apartment door. He'd come here with a forgotten backpack and a plan, but now that he's here.. He's not completely sure how to go about this. He knows he comes off as overly-blunt and rude even after years of Pepper's coaching, so maybe this isn't such a great idea after all. What if he ends up making things worse?

Regardless, May answers, and he can't exactly back out at this point:

"Hey, Tony, come on in. You can just set Peter's bag on the couch by you. Coffee?"

"No thank you, May. Actually, I wanted to ask you about something-"

"I kinda figured you weren't here just to drop off a bag."

Tony chuckled nervously.

"Yeah, um, actually I had a question? About Peter?"

"Yes?" May sat down on the chair across from him, expectantly.

"Did you know.. Er, that is to say. Is he-" Stark has been making public announcements and addressing important business partners since he was sixteen. Puzzling together a simple question should not be as hard as it is proving to be for him right now.

"Tony?"

"Why is Peter hiding that he's a genius?" He rushes out at last.

She looks at him blankly for a minute.

"Peter's hiding what..?"

"He's a genius. Come on, surely you've noticed."

"Now I know Peter's smart and all, but really-"

"Peter Benjamin Parker is a complete and certifiable genius in every sense of the word. He doesn't even have to *process* most things, May, he just intuitively *understands!* I haven't met anyone like him since, well. Since *me.*"

There is an awkward and unexpected silence over the room. Peter's guardian is looking at Tony like she's just seen a ghost. Then, finally, she lowers her gaze toward the ground.

"...I was afraid of that." She quietly replies.

"Afraid?"

"I always knew there was something he was holding back. He'll start talking sometimes, and his eyes will spark so bright! And he'll slip into vocab words I don't even recognize while getting excited about chemistry, or physics. And then, suddenly, he'll just stop. He'll blink, frown, and withdraw for some reason. I always thought it was grief, keeping himself from getting too happy."

"So he's even been hiding it from you."

"Have you talked to him about it?"

"I noticed, and when I tried to tell him how smart he was, he completely rushed out on me. Jumped out a window, even."

"I'll never get used to that." May said with a laugh.

"So what do we do?"

--

Originally, their plan had been simple: Tony would spend more time with him for the next few weeks, casually introducing more complex concepts into his conversations with the kid. May would quietly investigate Peter's teachers and grades to make sure everything's okay for him there. Perhaps subtly question Ned and MJ on it as well. Don't mention the situation until Peter does.

Simple, solid, and as it turns out: Completely unnecessary.

Because on day two of putting it into action, while Tony was alone in his lab, Friday received an emergency signal from Peter's rudimentary suit A.I. Who, as it turns out, Peter had secretly turned into a full-blown A.I. named Karen.

"Mr. Stark, I have deemed it necessary to inform you Spider-Man has been cornered with blackout protocol in place. Please come as quickly as possible."

That didn't sound good. Not the least of which because Tony had no idea what this custom protocol was, or why this situation warranted an emergency. Maybe a stealth mission gone wrong? Regardless, Tony rushed out in his Ironman suit with barely a second thought. It was a dark, noisy night in the city, and Peter's tracker was staying firmly in place on the map.

As Tony approached, the noises only grew louder. Sirens. Lots of sirens.

If it were possible for him to start flying even faster, he would be.

At last, he's got Peter in his sights. Or at least, he thinks he has. On top of an apartment building's roof, three gunmen were surrounding and shooting at one giant ball of webbing. Webbing exactly where the emergency signal traced. Tony landed in-between the thugs and the ball with a loud thunk.

"I've heard of people having bad reactions to spiders before, but this is ridiculous."

The gunmen around him startled, before quickly turning their fire toward him.

"You know, those guns really should've come with a safety course. Don't you realize shooting metal causes-"

One of the thugs fell to the ground and screamed, clutching his leg.

"-bullet ricochets?"

The remaining two quickly lowered their guns and looked to each other nervously. Tony didn't waste any time before repulser blasting them unconscious.

Then, he slowly approached the web.

"Spider-Man? Hey Spidey, you in there? Friday, please alert Karen that I've taken out the surrounding gunmen and that it's safe for the kid to come out now."

There was empty silence for a while, before, finally, a slight shifting in Peter's nest. A few more minutes of quiet rustling, and then the young spiderling's head cautiously popped out.

"Hey kid? You okay?"

Tony couldn't see much with the mask in the way, but Peter appeared pretty spooked.

"Spidey?"

Peter slowly, carefully stepped out of his web. Only to completely leap onto Tony at the sound of a loud clang nearby.

"...Alright kid, let's get you out of here." Tony awkwardly shifted Peter so he'd be safely positioned for the ride, then flew him gently back to the tower.

---

When they got back to the tower, after a quick once-over to make sure he really hadn't been hurt, Peter locked himself in his room. The kid still wasn't talking, and looked.. Frustrated. Angry. Wether at Tony, Karen, the thugs, or himself, was unclear.

Friday had already notified and updated May on the roof situation, and about the kid's mysterious silence. Unfortunately May was in the middle of a long night shift, so she wouldn't be able to come check on him herself until morning.

Tony was worried.

When he asked Karen what blackout mode was, all she was allowed to tell him was that it's a safety protocol Peter had made. She wouldn't say anything about Peter's silence, how the roof situation had come about, or why Peter had turned her into a full A.I. in the first place. He was almost tempted to try hacking into her file system, but decided to save it as a last resort. The last thing he wanted was for Peter to shutdown on him even more.

So, with no other choice left, he waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Four hours later, restless and about to check if Peter had actually just gone to sleep, Tony heard the quiet creak of a door opening. The kid crept out into the hall slowly, wincing at his own steps. Until finally, he reached the living room-  where Tony had been watching from the couch- and waved shyly.

"H-Hi, Mister Stark." His voice was hoarse and croaky.

"Hello, Spider-child. Wanna tell me what happened out there?"

Peter crossed his arms in front of his chest nervously, and stuttered. "S-some guys got the- the drop on me. That's a-all."

Tony raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.

"They got the drop. On you. With your super senses? Come on kid, I know that's not the full story. What's really going on?"

"I-" Peter glared at the floor and huffed in frustration. "You weren't supposed to find out."

"Find out what? Is this about that whole secret genius thing, Peter? 'Cause I promise, there's nothing wrong with-"

"No!" Peter cut him off. "No, it's not about being smart. It's-" Tears streaked their way down his face as his mouth searched for words.

"I..I'm broken. I'm broken and I don't think I can ever be fixed."

Tony sat frozen, stunned. What does this mean? What's been going on behind the scenes for so long that it'd led his kid to this point? A million possibilities flicker through his brain, but the pieces all feel too jagged and warped.

"Kid. Peter, come here. Please, come sit down on the couch." Tony requests softly.

Stiff and anxiously, the kid obeys.

"I'm gonna go make us some hot cocoa, and then we can talk about this more. Unless you want to wait until your aunt can be here?"

"No." Peter responded with the most exhausted whisper Tony had ever heard.

"Alright, that's okay. Wait here, I'll be just a minute."

--

Tony Stark you sunnova bitch.

You just had to go and get yourself a little protégé, didn't you? Less than three years ago, you were partying it up, having a grand ol' time, enjoying all the irresponsibility in the world. Now? Now you care about silly things like Feelings and Not Being An Alcoholic and Taking Care Of Your Pseudo-Son. Ugh.

And the worst part? You can only blame yourself.

And wouldn't trade this for anything. 

###

Tony rubs slow hands over his tired eyes with a long, breathy sigh as he waits for the kettle to reach a boil. May and Pepper have long impressed upon him the importance of having comfort beverages for serious conversations, and this one's shaping up to be a heavy one.

He doesn't even have to look to know that Peter's still fidgeting anxiously, staring at the floor in the other room. After carefully pouring two steaming mugs of hot cocoa topped high with whipped cream, Tony sends a quick text to Pepper ("Serious talk with kid. Emotional backup appreciated. Please standby.") and heads back to the living room to sit on the couch next to Peter.

"So, kid. Who do I need to have murdered?"

Peter chokes on his drink and splutters.

"Nobody! You shouldn't k-kill anyone Mr. Stark!" He bursts between coughs.

"Ah, right, right. Death is too easy, they need to suffer." Tony nods sagely as he pats Peter’s back.

"Mr. Stark!" Peter cries out, exasperated.

Tony takes a long sip from his mug. His customly monogrammed "Iron Dad" mug. His customly monogrammed "Iron Dad" mug that was jokingly gifted to him by Rhodey for Father's Day. 'Jokingly'. His paternal instincts have never been stronger; and Pepper would be very amused.

"Talk to me, Peter. What's blackout mode, why the secret genius thing, and where did this idea of you being 'broken' come from?"

The kid's eyes return to the floor.

"I'm. Um. I'm not.. Normal?" Peter half mumbles.

"Well, you are a genius half-spider after all." Tony agrees.

"That's not. Well.. I was like this before the bite."

"Go on?"

Peter takes a slow, deep breath, then lets his whole body deflate with it.

"Everything is. Loud. All of the time. The noises are loud, the lights are loud, the feelings are loud." He turns to Tony. "Too loud."

"And now, I've got super senses, and it's a thousand times worse! I can hear Pepper’s heart beat upstairs, Mr. Stark. I can hear the flow of blood pumping through your veins. I can feel each individual molecule of moisture in the air rubbing against me right now. If I focus, I can smell the family two blocks down having pizza."

"Oh kid-"

Tony has always known about Peter’s enhanced senses, that they help him find crimes to stop and follow evidence trails no one else can. But he's never stopped to consider what that would actually mean on a whole-life scale. The full implications of what kind of hell that would be. God, how does Peter make it through a school day?

"But that's not even the biggest problem." Peter's voice cracks with stress. "No, I can usually ignore the worst of that if I try hard enough. The biggest problem… is that I can't control myself."

"Control yourself?" Tony asks.

Peter abruptly stands.

If just getting him to open up about the loudness was hard, this seems like it’s gonna be moving up to Peter Parker grad school. The kid shifts, rocks, paces around the room, finishes his cocoa, makes more cocoa, and generally does anything he can do to dodge further addressing the situation until Tony breaks the silence again.

"Listen Peter, I'm not gonna be mad, or judge you, or anything like that. And you're definitely not broken. But I need to know what's going on, okay? You're my kid, and I care about you. And I want to be able to help you when you need it."

Peter's movement comes to a sudden halt as he turns back toward Tony. "I'm your.. You really mean that?"

"I- Well, yeah. Pete." He continues nervously. "You're already on the will and everything."

“Oh wow.” Peter mumbles under his breath as his face turns an embarrassed red. Tony does his best to keep down his own emotional awkwardness and panic.

Peter slowly, cautiously brings himself back down onto the couch.

"...Okay." Peter says weakly.

"Okay...?" Tony asks.

"Yeah." Peter sniffles. "It's just. Feelings, right?"

Tony nods for him to go on.

"When I have.. feelings. They're loud too. They're so loud, it's like they're trapped inside me and trying to explode! I can't make myself sit still, or think through everything that's happening, and. Sometimes, when everything is too loud, I can't speak at all."

"So you made the blackout mode to help quiet things down?" Tony guesses.

"Y-yeah."

“Alright. And the hiding how smart you are?"

"It's- My brain. My brain gets stuck on stuff when I get excited about it. I get stuck on stuff, and can't stop talking about it or thinking about it, no matter how hard I try. Like physics and chemistry. It's frustrating and annoying and it makes people hate me."

Tony gives that thought a moment to settle, and Peter a chance to catch his breath, before finally responding:

"I don't think anyone worthwhile could ever hate you, kid."

"Well of course you're saying that now, but-"

Tony cuts him off by waving a hand in his face.

"Nu-uh. I'm saying it forever, kid, and I'm gonna buy you a new super-expensive lego set every time you try to argue otherwise."

“But-!”

“Ah-uh, one new Lego Star Destroyer coming right up. In fact, maybe I should throw in another set for you believing that junk in the first place-”

Peter groans.

"So," Tony begins again, "Why haven't you told your Aunt May about this?"

"How did you know I-? Ugh." Pete turns away again.

"Peter-"

"It's just." He sighs and mumbles. "Ididntwantobedoubleorphaned."

"What was that?"

Peter groans again even louder. "I didn't want to be double orphaned, okay!? I knew there was something wrong with me, and I was already such a big burden on aunt may, so I didn't want to cause any more trouble!"

"Oh, Peter."

Tony can't help himself. Personally, he blames the mug. Tears fill his eyes as he leans over, wraps his arms around the kid, and pulls him into the greatest bear hug the world has ever known. Peter yelps with surprise. But slowly, carefully relaxes into Tony’s hold.

###

Later, when Pepper quietly peaks in to check on them, she finds the two asleep on the couch- Still held in each other's arms.

[chryslerbuildingfeathers]

This fic was made for Ecto-Implosion 2024! Based on art by @shadowfaerieammy

Magical Ghost

It all starts with a flash: Blindingly bright, and toxically green. A sickly-sweet electric smell permeates the air and dances on the tongue.

And then poor Danny stumbles out emitting an otherworldly glow, and wearing...

Is that a frilly black dress?

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god-" Tucker nearly faints.

"D-Danny?" Sam calls, face white as a sheet.

Danny wobbles in place. "Y-yeah?"

"Oh thank goodness!!" Sam and Tucker rush toward him.

"Stupid question, but- Danny, are you alright?" Sam asks nervously while the two finish checking all of his limbs are in place.

"Also, what's with the dress?" Tucker adds. Sam elbows him.

"I-I think so Sam. Dress?" Danny says, voice unsteady.

He looks himself over dazedly, blinks at his cutesy-gothic attire, shakes his head a couple times, then looks again.

"DRESS?!" He suddenly cries in alarm, his face flushed... Green?

"That's what gets you worried right now?" Sam asks incredulously, "Not that you just opened a portal to the ghost zone on top of yourself??"

"Uhm... Yes." Danny and Tucker respond in unison.

"Hopeless." Sam sighs.

"Well anyway, what should we do now?" Tucker asks Sam.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we can't just leave him like this; he's glowing! In a sparkly dress!"

"Actually, I kinda like the dress." Danny mumbles.

"You know," Sam thinks out loud, "This is just like that one anime. Carpenter Sun?"

"Ohh yeah!" Tucker's face lights up with realization. "Danny, you're like a magical girl!"

“A magical what?!?”

“A magical girl!” Danny’s friends respond in unison.

“It’s a genre of show-” Sam starts to explain, only to be interrupted by a loud “Crash!” from the entrance of the basement..

“Oh Danno~!” Danny’s father bellows merrily as he bounces down the stairs.

“Crap. What do we do? Sam? Tucker?” Danny looks between the two in panic.

Too soon, his father reaches them.

“So, what’re you kids up to? Danny-boy showing off the family business- Er, Danny? Why are you wearing a dress?”

“Be-Because I’m a girl?” Danny stutters out.

Mr. Fenton gasps.

“Egads, this whole time?!?” He rushes quickly back to the stairs, talking as he goes. “Jazzypants was right; I have been missing out on important details of my kids’ lives! I better tell Maddy and crack open those parenting books, fix paperwork…”

He pauses shortly at the top step, turning back to the trio.

“Don’t worry, Dan- Er, Daughter! I’ve got everything under control.” He poses confidently.

“Er, thanks Dad.” Danny calls back.

Another crash, and Mr. Fenton is gone. Somehow having completely missed Danny’s snow white hair and glowing green eyes in his fervor…

“Soo…” Tucker breaks the following awkward silence. “What now? Are you like, actually a girl, dude?”

“Tucker!” Sam reprimands.

Danny stares down at the floor, blushing brightly. “I don’t know. Maybe? This whole thing kinda snowballed out of control.”

“Well,” Sam determines, “Whoever and whatever you are, you’ll always be our friend. Right Tucker?”

“Right.” Tucker grins.

The two have to head home for the night and leave with reassuring pats to Danny’s shoulders. Danny dodges his family and heads straight to bed.

–

The following morning Danny wakes dress-and-glowstick free, to the sound of a small voice calling from above.

Danny cracks open their eyes to find…

A little green floating blob, with its own eyes staring right back.

“Agh!” Danny shouts in surprise.

“Agh!” The blob shouts in reply.

The two continue staring, and then-

“Ahem! Er, um, I'm glad to have your attention.” The blob mimes straightening a necktie.

“You can talk?!” Danny splutters in shock.

“Yes, well. I do have a mouth, don't I?”

“Uhm-”

“Nevermind.” The ghost continues. “I, my new companion, am Blobby! The blob ghost. I have been sent from the Ghost Zone to be your new familiar!” If the ghost had a chest, it would be puffing up proudly. Danny could tell.

“Familiar? Ghost Zone? Blobby?!? - Wait, no, the name makes sense… But what's going on here?” Danny's head was spinning.

“You, my friend, have been selected to be - wait for it - an all new, super cool, Ghostly Magical Girl!” The little ghost zooms around the room in excitement.

“You get to have neat powers, a frilly black dress, a fancy transformation sequence, and, best of all, the pleasure of my company! All to protect Amity from the crazy ghosts that will no doubt invade your town now that the portal’s been opened. You’re welcome!” Blobby smiles brightly.

“But I don't want to be a magical girl.” Danny argues frustratedly.

Blobby stares seriously, deep into Danny’s eyes.

“Are you sure about that?”

Danny raises a hand to argue further, then stops herself.

Blobby nods with satisfaction.

“But wait, what did you mean by ‘ghostly’?”

“By 'ghostly', I mean ghostly! You’re now half ghost. You can fly, turn invisible, walk through walls, who knows where your limits lie!”

“Ugh, my parents are gonna kill me!” Danny groans.

“Ah, ah, ah~” Blobby chirps, “Half-kill you!”

Danny decides to save that existential crisis for later, and instead begins getting up for the day.

Blobby fades out with a simple wave.

-

It's not that being a magical girl doesn't sound cool to Danny, it does. Dresses and superpowers seem pretty great, actually. But everything happened so quickly, and are magical girls allowed to be astronauts?

What if this stops her from going to space?!

Plus there's the whole ‘being half-dead’ thing. She's just going to avoid acknowledging that from now on, she thinks.

With worries floating through her head, Danny gets dressed and wanders down the stairs - only for Jasmine to intercept her on the landing.

“So. A girl, huh?”

“Yep.”

“Not into boys?”

“Nope.”

“Not even a little bit?” She tries.

“Nope.”

“Darn. Could've sworn.”

Danny rolls her eyes and carries on down the steps.

After a short duel with her breakfast and an awkward conversation with her trying-wayy-too-hard parents, Danny heads to Nasty Burger to meet up with her friends.

“...So?” Tucker says.

“Well…?” Sam adds.

The two flick their eyes over Danny questioningly until finally, she breaks.

“Alright, yes, I'm a magical girl! You guys were right.” Danny throws her hands up in defeat.

“I knew it!” Sam shouts happily.

“Congrats dude!” Tucker grins.

“Thanks, I guess, but there's more to it than that.”

The ghostly-girl goes on to explain her morning conversation with Blobby and her worries about her newly minted powers.

As she gets more and more worked up, she begins to sparkle and float up from her seat.

Her friends go wide-eyed and quickly pull her back down.

“It's alright Danny; things’ll work out!” Sam assures.

Danny goes to argue, only for Tucker to cut in with:

“Yeah, Danica, you seriously need to chill.”

“Danica!?!” Danny cries in outrage.

“Yeah, you know. Thought you might wanna give some new names a try. Darlene?” Tucker continues arily.

“Tucker-” Danny growls.

“Daphne?” Sam idly suggests.

“I know what you’re doing-”

“Delilah? Darcy?” Tucker posits.

“That's it!”

Danny jumps from her seat and chases the two wildly out of the restaurant; Sam and Tucker grinning madly all the while. The whole trio quickly bursts into laughter once they make it outside, and soon collapse in a nearby park together gasping for air.

Only, Danny’s exhales are a bit more misty than the weather calls for…

Blobby appears suddenly before them, an urgent look on his face. The trio hastily return to their feet.

“So sorry to interrupt, but Danny? Do you remember that thing I briefly mentioned-”

A scream echoes from the other side of the park.

“-About ghostly invaders?” Blobby fidgets nervously.

“Er, yeah?”

A trashcan goes flying over the group’s heads.

“We’re gonna need you to transform like, now, dude.” Tucker says.

“Right. How do I do that?” Danny asks, looking back toward Blobby.

A group of panicked picnickers scramble past the four, not even noticing the floating familiar.

The ghost wiggles anxiously in the air. “Simply have your friends cover for you, think magical ghost thoughts, and say a cool catchphrase.”

“Guys?”

“Right!”

Sam and Tucker huddle Danny up against a nearby wall.

“Alright, by the power of graysku-!”

“Nope.”

“In the name of the moon, I will-!”

“Nu-uh.”

“Er, I'm going ghost?” Danny tries.

“That works.”

“I'm going ghost!”

Vibrant green light erupts around Danny as she suddenly floats off the ground. Her colors turn to negatives in a bright sweep of light, and with a twirl her gothic dress appears.

Her transformation finishes just in time. In the sky, flying towards them with flames in her hands, a screeching ghost woman makes her appearance.

Sam and Tucker flee with a short “Good luck!” Leaving Danny to narrowly dodge the incoming fireballs on her own.

“Blobby? What am I supposed to do now?!”

“Try jumping and punching.”

“Gee, thanks!”

Danny does, in fact, try jumping and punching. And kicking. And a whole lot of flailing around in general, really.

Results? Mixed.

But the attempts mostly end with her bruised and the evil ghost lady cackling madly.

“Alright, this clearly isn't working. Any other ideas?”

“Yeah!” Blobby shouts, “Try blasting her.”

“How?” A singed Danny urges.

“Imagine your hand is a gun!”

Danny sighs deeply, dodges another ball of flame, resigns herself to what she's about to do, then lines up her aim and-

-Huh. Apparently finger guns can be deadly.

The blast is excessive, spreading shockwaves far through the surrounding area. Impact comes with an amazing burst of blinding bright light and an echoing “I’ll get you~!!”

When the dust finally settles, the day is clear. The park is a wreck. The ghost lady, Blobby, and the dress are all gone. Sam and Tucker peak out from behind a nearby tree.

Danny catches her breath and collapses back onto the ground. Sam and Tucker join her.

“Huh. Maybe this ‘magical girl' thing isn't so bad after all.” She decides. “That was kind of fun.”

[chryslerbuildingfeathers]

Decided to share some of my fanfics on Tumblr :D