#Not shown in the drawing but I think it should give him rocket boot powers so that he can jump even higher

[bewarethecircles]

I think Orym should take the fire shard. Will it be good for him? Maybe not! But it sure would look cool!

[kabira]

07 | trust issues

pairing — spider-man!vernon x ofc

featuring — joshua, yeji (itzy), felix (skz), yangyang (nct)

word count — 3k

genres — spider-man au, marvel au, fluff, action, angst, humor

warnings — violence

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Vernon swung over the busy street that led towards Central Park, disgruntled by the surprise subunit. Nova flew alongside him, just a few feet before him—he could probably fly a lot faster, but Vernon knew he was flying this close to him purposefully, letting him know that Nova would always be faster than Spider-Man.

God, the little things about this kid irritated him even more than the big stuff.

He spotted Shocker through the trees, the lining of his suit glinting like gold in the afternoon sunlight. The villain raised his gauntlets and slammed them into the ground with a yell, making it vibrate with the frequency of his sonic blasts. Vernon flipped in mid-air, perching on the branch of a tree out of his blast radius.

“So what’s the sitch?” Yangyang asked, hovering next to him, and Vernon cast a glance around. Terrorizing civilians seemed like a bit of a stretch since there weren’t really many civilians around, and those that were had managed to find a place that was protected from the blasts. The cops had been driven back by the blasts, and the few shots they took were easily deflected by the energy discharges.

The ground shook with every hit, but since Shocker was on hard-packed earth instead of concrete, most of the force was absorbed. The terrain was cracked in places, deep trenches left in the dry ground from the explosions. The few people in the area had been driven up the bridge, but Vernon didn’t like their chances—Shocker might not have intended to hurt them, but he was getting dangerously close. One misdirected blast was all it would take to topple the side holding up the bridge.

“Stay out of range of the vibro-shock gauntlets,” Vernon told him. It wasn’t the kind of crime that required their immediate, undivided attention, since Shocker didn’t seem to be doing any real damage, but who knew how long that mood would last? “They might look easy to dodge, but they’re actually pretty deadly and have a large discharge radius, so steer clear of them. Try to stay off the ground.”

“And the takedown?” Even though he wasn’t happy about being stuck with Nova on this mission, Vernon was still pleased to see that at least the guy was listening to him.

“I’ll web him up, hang him upside down from a tree or something,” Vernon replied. “You should fly up there first, distract him so I can get up close.”

“Why do that when I can just take him out with one blast?” Nova muttered, and Vernon shot him a dark look. “But I don’t want to get back to school that early, so we’ll do it your way. This guy sure looks like he could use some fun.”

Vernon pursed his lips, not feeling so sure. He wanted to say that it wasn’t like Shocker to behave so erratically, but that would probably just make him sound like an idiot—how was anyone supposed to know what normal behavior was for a criminal?

“Go,” he breathed, and Nova shot from his side like a rocket—a human rocket, as he often liked to describe himself. He was on Shocker in a second, zipping around him like an annoying, oversized fly, getting all up in his personal space and confusing him. Shocker’s face was covered, hiding his expressions, but from the rigid lines of his body Vernon could tell the guy was getting pissed. He took his chance, diving off the branch and executing a low swing worthy of Tarzan, kicking Shocker in the chest with both feet and sending him flying into a tree behind, which cracked and splintered under the blunt force.

“Oh, Herman, Herman,” he tutted, as Shocker righted himself with an angered yell. Vernon moved with the speed and grace of a—well, a spider, dodging a powerful blast from his gauntlets by executing a perfect helical flip. “Haven’t you learned the hard way that fighting back is only going to make it hurt worse?”

“Spider-Man!” Shocker yelled, booting up his gauntlets, which glowed like lamplights from the charge.

“Yes, of course, who else would it be?” he asked, webbing the overhead branches and pulling himself up to avoid the incoming blasts. “Did you really think I was going to leave you here all by yourself?”

“If you’re so smart, you should have known to stay out of my way!” Shocker said, sending a concentrated blast his way. Vernon rolled out of the way, coming up in a crouch.

“I didn’t say I was smart, you did,” he said, flipping back onto his feet. “What’s gotten into you, Herman? I didn’t take you to be the terrorizing type.” He avoided another blast by leaning far right. “Why are you doing this? For funsies?”

He had succeeded in drawing Shocker away from the bridge, but the clearing was too small for Shocker’s blast radius. Vernon couldn’t contain him within the safe zone for long. “Nova!” he yelled. “Get the civilians out of the way! I’ll handle this guy.”

Nova jerked his head into a nod, flying towards the bridge to evacuate the trapped people. Vernon’s spider sense tingled, but he was too late to react—a blast caught him in the chest, sending him flying into the underbrush. He coughed out the air in his lungs, and pushed himself to his feet. Ow, ow, ow.

“You should know better,” Shocker said. His gauntlets glowed again, and Vernon’s eyes widened under the mask as he raised them both towards him, the light as blinding as direct headlights.

Nova swooped in out of the air, snatching Shocker up like a bird snatching up a worm (or maybe that was a bad analogy).

“Boring!” Nova yelled, carrying Shocker higher up in the air, preparing for a good old drop to let gravity do the rest of the work. Shocker twisted, jamming his fists towards the boy’s chest and sending a shockwave through him. Nova cried out in surprise, going flying through the air in the opposite direction and ending up dropping Shocker, who righted himself by aiming a blast towards the ground at the right angle, giving himself enough of a boost to be able to land on his feet.

Not too helpful, though, because before he had a chance to celebrate the little victory, Spider-Man was upon him, webbing his fists to his chests in a cross like an empty-handed mummy, if wearing highly enhanced vibro-shock gauntlets counted as being empty-handed. Vernon webbed the nearest tree trunk, pulling himself and the incapacitated Shocker along with him by jerking at his webstrings.

“It isn’t like you to behave this way,” he said, pulling himself up to a branch. He webbed Shocker’s body, turning him in the air with the torsion of each pull, until he had him all wrapped up like a caterpillar like a cocoon, leaving only his head out. Vernon lowered himself upside-down to face the man, cocking his head inquisitively. “Aw, come on, you can tell me. I can keep a secret.”

“You’re blind, Spider-Man,” Shocker spat.

Nova reappeared next to him, scowling under the mask. “Come on, web-head,” he said. “Leave the information-extraction to the experts. Bad guys never tattle.”

“Oh, you don’t know about us,” Vernon said, shaking his head. “We go way back.” He leaned closer to Shocker. “Don’t we, Herman?” He chuckled. “Remember the first time I stopped you from robbing a bank? Good times, good times.”

Instead of answering, Shocker thrashed around in the web trap, which was pointless, of course. Vernon sighed, dropping to the ground upright, and looked up at the dangling man who was now writhing like fish bait on a hook.

“Guess you’re not in the mood to talk,” he said, keeping the note of disappointment in his voice. “Maybe the Big House will fix that for you.”

“The Big House?” Nova scoffed. “This guy barely belongs in a regular prison. How long did the fight take? Ten minutes?” He shook his head. “Are all your villains this lame?”

Vernon shot him a look that he obviously couldn’t see through his mask. “You haven’t seen a single good one yet,” he said. “My villains are dangerous.”

“Oh, yeah?” Nova barked out a laugh. “Like that one guy with a huge hot glue gun? What was his name, Trapman?”

“Trapster.”

Nova snorted. “Yeah. Real dangerous.”

Vernon rolled his eyes. “I’d like to see you handle being stuck to a wall with the same disgusting gunk that’s leaked down your pants,” he said. “It’s not always so much about danger as it is about being able to handle the grossness.”

Nova grinned, obviously not believing him. “Whatever you say.”

“I’m not messing around,” he said seriously. “Can you imagine doing a stakeout mission in the sewer, waiting for a truck-sized human-lizard hybrid to come out? Not everyone has that kind of patience and tolerance.”

“Yeah, because they don’t need to have it,” Nova said. “My villains aren’t geckos.”

Vernon gave up, waiting for the authorities to arrive and pick Shocker up instead of gracing him with an answer. Shocker had gone limp, but remained silent as stone. Vernon regarded him contemplatively, still unconvinced by the tough intimidation act.

Something was definitely up.

At the end of the team’s usual briefing in the Helicarrier that day, Vernon pulled Nick Fury aside. “Uh, Agent Fury, sir?” he asked in a low voice, casting a precarious glance at his teammates, who were in the middle of leaving. Yeji, last in the line, looked back at him questioningly, but he shook his head minutely. She raised an eyebrow, but left. “Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead,” the agent said, in the process of shutting down the holographic display system. He looked up when Vernon didn’t answer. “What is it, Spider-Man?”

“This might sound like a stupid question,” he started hesitantly, “but do you know if Norman Osborn is secure?”

Fury gave him a searching look, movements slowing somewhat as he took in the question. “Of course,” he said. “Norman Osborn is nice and locked-up in the Raft.”

“And he hasn’t shown any…Goblin-y tendencies?”

Fury’s curious look intensified. “Not so far, no,” he said. “Look, kid, I’m only telling you this because you put him in there and deserve to know what’s happened to him, but I can’t release any sensitive details about his capture. Just enough that you can sleep tight at night knowing he isn’t breaking out anytime soon.”

“Thanks,” Vernon said half-heartedly. “But I just wanted to know if the OZ levels in his blood were—normal.”

“That’s what his scheduled test runs say,” he replied. “Parker, you don’t need to worry about him anymore. If there are any abnormalities, S.H.I.E.L.D. will take care of them. Rest easy.”

“And if he gets out?”

“Long shot.” Fury leaned against the table, frowning at him. “Kid, is there something you want to tell me?”

Vernon hesitated, thinking back to the Shocker incident. Herman Schultz’s behavior showed all the symptoms of a man under threat from a higher authority, and the last time he’d seen that happen was under Norman Osborn. Any irregularities were to be reported, since the city had only come back to normal recently after repeated attacks from multiple supervillains, but Vernon wasn’t sure if deviant behavior from a low-level criminal counted.

Plus, Fury had only just begun to hand him bigger responsibilities, and he didn’t want to destroy all that buildup by giving him a false lead as a result of Goblin-induced paranoia.

“Nope, just wondering,” he replied, pressing his lips into what he hoped was a believable smile. “You know, one of those things.”

The man gave him an unconvinced look, but let it go. Vernon turned back and exited the briefing room as casually as he could. The doors slid shut behind him as he stepped into the hallway, plunging him in a dimmed lighting. He exhaled, mind buzzing with thoughts.

“Norman Osborn, huh?”

Vernon turned, finding Felix leaning against the wall next to the door. He straightened as Vernon faced him. “Don’t tell me you honestly expected him to believe you,” he said, talking about Fury. “No person asks about their supervillains unless they’re worried about a comeback. What did you see?”

Vernon sighed, realizing there was no point in trying to hide his doubts from Felix. “Nothing substantial,” he answered, starting to walk down the corridor. Felix followed him. “Just some everyday robber acting out.”

“That Shocker guy you and Nova turned in today?” Felix asked, and Vernon nodded. “Why?”

“Scaring civilians for no reason…it’s just not like him,” Vernon said. “He does what he does for money, not just to strike fear into people’s hearts. Well, I guess that’s an added bonus at times,” he added, “but doing that without making money along the way doesn’t seem like something he would do.”

“So you think he was hired to take you out.”

“Not exactly…” Vernon turned the mask over in his hands, thinking. It was hard to put into words, but the sense of oncoming danger was there, like a very general, very muted version of his spider sense. The problem was, he didn’t know how to explain that to Felix. Not everyone understood how it worked. “He seemed kind of reluctant to kill me, too.”

Felix gave him an amused look. “You’re upset because a villain gave you the brush-off?”

“Very funny,” he said, but his heart wasn’t in it. “I kept thinking that was being threatened or something. Now, what for, I couldn’t say, but—”

“I get it. It’s like intuition,” Felix said, and Vernon nodded. “What does that have to do with Norman Osborn?”

“If you’ve seen him in his Goblin form, you’ve probably noticed that he can be very threatening,” he said. “But he couldn’t be behind this, because he’s in a maximum-security prison with zero contact with the outside world.”

“But you think he is.”

“I can’t think of anyone else who’d want to do this, since he’s been the only one who’s ever operated in this particular way. But I guess there’s no shortage of people who want to kill me.”

“So he’s tried to get small-time criminals to kill Spider-Man before,” Felix said. “Doesn’t sound to me like a good judge of strength.”

“To kill Vernon Parker, actually,” Vernon corrected. “He kind of…knows my identity.”

Felix frowned. “He unmasked you?”

Vernon stopped close to the end of the corridor, glancing back to see if there was anyone around, but the place was empty. Fury had probably taken a left. “Do you know how I became Spider-Man?” he asked Felix.

“Didn’t you get bitten by a radioactive spider?”

“It was an Oscorp experiment, bonding OZ to spider DNA,” Vernon said. “One of the test spiders escaped while I was touring the facility with my class, and bit me. The enhanced spider DNA bonded with mine, giving me powers. Except here’s the thing—Norman Osborn knew.”

“He did?”

“Him, and a couple of other scientists working on the OZ formula,” he said. “Figured it out by taking a sample of my blood while I was on watch in the hospital. He took the same formula and bonded it to his own DNA to enhance himself, but it messed with his brain.” Vernon studied a tiny web in the corner of the ceiling. Spiders, even up here in a S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier hundreds of feet in the air. “He told me all of this just moments before accidentally killing Harry. Turned himself in when he realized what he had done.”

“Oh.” There was a short, awkward pause. Felix came to stand beside him, following his gaze up to the tiny spiderweb in the corner. “I’m sorry.”

Vernon shook his head, turning away from the web. “It wasn’t your fault.”

They stood in silence for a few moments before Felix spoke up again. “Tell you what,” he said, making Vernon raise his eyebrows. “I’ll ask Yeji to look up both Shocker and that Rhino guy in the S.H.I.E.L.D. database. We’ll go over his record later, see if he has anything to do with Norman Osborn. If something comes up, we’ll report it to Fury. You don’t have that spider intuition for nothing.”

Vernon cracked a smile. “You mean my spider sense.”

“Same difference.” Felix smiled back, but it dropped from his face just as quickly. “Hey, I almost forgot to ask—did you tell that Joshua guy who you are?”

Vernon winced, sheepishly massaging the back of his neck. “Maybe,” he said, then added hastily, “But I was going to tell you soon.”

“Never mind that,” Felix muttered. “He figured out our identities already.”

“He told you that?” he asked, trying his hardest to suppress a smile.

“I’m pretty sure there’s some kind of protocol about it,” Felix said, “but I’m not sure. Plus, it’s one of those things you gotta deal with yourself, you know? I’m not great with the whole secret identity thing because Iceman is a public figure, but not that I’m some kind of undercover agent—” He shivered, which was a bit ironic, because Iceman and all. “You know being out could get me killed, right?”

“Because of your supervillains?”

“No, because mutant-haters.” He gave Vernon a meaningful look. “Like that girl Liz Allan in History.”

“Nah, that one’s all bark no bite,” Vernon said. “Besides, Josh isn’t going to tell anybody. He kept my Spider-Man secret for a year and still going strong.”

Felix looked at him curiously. “You trust him that much?”

“I’ve known him for years,” the brunet answered confidently. “I’d trust him with my life.”

“Well, if that’s what you think,” Felix said, “then that’s good enough for me.”

[not-so-secret-nerd]

Tunnel Rats: Part 2 of ?

Word Count: 1448 Pairing: Holtzbert Rating: M (overall rating) A/N:  Oh look, two chapters in a relatively short amount of time. Well damn. I still don't know how long this is going to wind up being. I've decided that this will be a side fic I work on while writing Ecto-high, so forgive me if updates are sporadic.

The gate made little noise when she squeezed past it—rusted hinges complaining in the cold. Holtzmann winced at the squealing sound. No one would be guarding this section of the Underground. Well, no one should be. At least, that’s what she hoped, but the sound was still unwanted and sharp in her ears.

Finding no centuries afoot and hearing no alarmed tapping on pipes—her people’s preferred form of communication—Holtz grins mischievously and ducked into the darkness of Central Park, hood pulled over her head. She struck out at a quick pace, checking the watch at her wrist just to be sure she still had time to meet her liaison. No doubt Mother would be cross when her absence was discovered. Hell, she’d be rightly pissed off if Holtz knew the woman well enough—which she did—but sometimes the rules had to be broken.

Undergrounders didn’t go Topside. That’s what Mother repeatedly insisted to Holtzmann and the rest of the colony thriving under the streets of New York on an almost daily basis. It wasn’t their world. You don’t go Topside. There was no reason to go Topside. They had Helpers Topside who would get the Undergrounders whatever they needed. You don’t go Topside.

For thirty-two years Holtzmann heard that, and for thirteen of those thirty-two years, she’d listened. But curiosity was as much in her nature as creating and building. And when the precocious teen finally worked up the courage to finally see for herself why going Topside wasn’t necessary she quickly discovered a new world of wonder, mystery, and technology. Oh, so much technology!

A grin crinkled the woman’s face. Oh, the things she could create with mere scrap from Topside. Half the reason the Undergrounders had what they had now was because of Holtzmann. Electric lights. Heating. Radio communication. Lifts and pullies. Elevators. She was working towards building what she hoped would be a continuous power source—nuclear if she was being honest—for her people so they could fully detach from New York’s electrical grid and become completely self-sustaining. It was her ultimate dream as a builder and the reason for her trek Topside. Well, almost the main reason.  

There was something about the air and the feeling of a breeze rustling her hair. Something wild and thrilling and natural. Especially in winter. Winter was a magical time. Fall was a close second—what with its colors and earthy smells—but winter was full of frost and ice, foggy breaths and snow. In the Underground, there were no seasons. Nothing to break up the days save for repetition, chores, and the tolling of the clocks—yet another addition created by the Underground’s resident engineer. No sun. No moon. No stars.

Gods did Holtzmann love the stars. As a child, she’d read and memorized every book imaginable. Anything she could get her hands on. She’d even built her own star-gazer, a round little ball with carefully mapped constellations set overtop a candle she’d proudly shown to Mother. The two sat for hours looking up at the synthetic night sky, but nothing could compare to the real thing.

It was towards that same star-dusted sky Holtz turned her head, letting the chilled breeze play with the ends of her shaggy blonde hair carefully pinned in an elaborate up-do and tug at her threadbare coat. Squatting, she gathered a handful of snow into her fingerless gloved hands and held it up to her nose. Cold fractals tickle her skin, making her laugh. Grinning manically after filling her lungs with biting air, Holtz takes off at a run, the need to feel speed driving her.    

Sticking to the tree line just to be safe—disobedient she might be but Holtz wasn’t stupid—she loses herself in the thud of her booted feet against the snowy ground. In no time, she’s in the denser areas of the park where the trees and bushes grow in snarls. The isolation ensured she could remove her hood and not be noticed, which she gladly does.

Stopping next to a gnarly tree to pant plumes of white fog into the wintry night, Holtz readies herself to make a mad dash across a clearing and subsequent stretch of road when her ears pick up the distinct whir of a car engine. Ducking down, she watches a dark colored van rocket past at an unreasonable speed without its headlights on.

Okay. Not sketchy at all, she thinks, watching the receding taillights. It takes a sharp turn and disappears, the smell of its exhaust lingering faintly.

Holtz doesn’t immediately follow. She had a meetup not far from here with a Helper who was supposed to drop off a fresh box of scrap metal, circuits, wires, electronics, and other salvaged items at one of the park’s lesser traveled entrances. Holtz needed to meet him before someone grew suspicious of dark figures making trades in the dead of night, but something about the van niggled at her.

Backtracking a bit, Holtz shoves her hands into her pocket and pretends to know what she’s looking for or even doing. She just had a weird feeling, that’s the only rational conclusion her mind cobbles together. A strange feeling and general suspicion, but sometimes those were powerful senses one shouldn’t ignore, so she saunters a short ways until deeming her venture fruitless.

Blowing out a long breath, she waffles for a second or two at the tree line, looking off in the direction the van had taken before giving a helpless shrug and heading back to her appointment.    

Probably just a bunch of drunk idiots. Not any of my business.

The scent catches her attention and stills her retreating strides, there one minute and gone the next. Turning into the wind, Holtz sniffs and frowns, then sniffs again. She knew that smell. It couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than iron. A lot of iron. The hairs along the nape of her neck prickle. There was something ominous in the atmosphere now, something bad. It draws her brow into a wrinkled frown.

Follows her nose—which thanks to living in the Underground made her quite sensitive to Topside scents—Holtz picked her way along the road before stopping at a sharp bend where the trees dropped down into a gully. Again the wind buffers her. Again she smells iron and stiffens. Climbing down into a steep ditch, Holtz almost doesn’t see the motionless form at the bottom. The shadows hid it well, but her eyes were sharper than most humans. Cautious, the young woman edges closer before freezing altogether when those same sharp eyes of hers catch sight of the delicate hand half buried in snow.

Oh, gods. Oh, gods…no.

Body dump. It wasn’t uncommon, but this was her first time running into something like this. Fear twists in her guts, but it doesn’t stop her from sliding the rest of the way down and skittering around until she’s facing the body. Digging into her coat pocket, she withdraws a flashlight and clicks it on.

There wasn’t much of a face to look at. Not one that didn’t resemble raw meat, but there was a strong feminine quality to it, even under the blood. Holtz’s hands are gentle as she rolls the woman onto her back, moving wet strands of dark hair away from her face and letting the beam of her flashlight track over her. A sick feeling builds in Holtz’s chest which amplifies the more of the brutalized woman she takes in. Body in ruin. Blood everywhere, the largest amount coming from a wound in her side. Leaning down, Holtz puts her ear close to woman’s mouth and waits, breath held. After a moment she exhales gustily and rocks back onto her heels.

Still alive. Barely, but alive.

It wasn’t hard piecing things together. The van. The woman. The intent behind dumping her in such a secluded area of the park. She was marked to die—left like discarded trash, like a worthless broken toy. Holtzmann felt something hot flood her veins. A growl rumbles in the back of her throat. Was human life Topside so cheap? She tried to understand how something like this could happen and what came next, but a decision had already been reached almost without her realizing. In a smooth motion, Holtz scoops the woman up, bearing her slight weight with manageable ease.

The trek back to the Underground was a difficult one, but Holtz made good time, appointment forgotten. Once safely past the circular iron gate, she fights to grab the hanging wrench next to a fat pipe and taps out a frantic message.

Holtz returning. Medical assistance required. Get Mother.