#also they deserve to set fire to things and fight the eye and the spider

[screeching-painter-witch]

martim desolation power couple

[draggingthedregs]

Hello! I love your writing so much! Can you write some kanej with Kaz being protective of Inej? If not that’s completely fine :) thank u!

a/n: okay so I always really struggle with “protective Kaz” things because I feel like he knows that she can most definitely take care of herself and he respects her for that. So this is what I came up with to try and meet in the middle. There’s that scene in Six of Crows where Kaz sends Inej to get rid of Rojakke (is that how you spell it? Idk he was in one scene, his name is not the point) and then when they’re back in his office that night he asks like “Did he put up a fight?” and she says “Nothing I couldn’t handle” and he says “Not what I asked” so thats where the idea for this came from, thank you bye. 

word count: 2634

There was something about the floor of the Crow Club that set Kaz at ease.

Its endless cacophony of coins bouncing from table to floor, the spinning of Makkers Wheel, the laughter floating onto the street, and, his personal favorite, the flipping that only accompanied a deck of cards. Somedays he thought he’d be content to shuffle at a table forever.

It was then that Inej pushed through the entryway, shaking off the rain that rarely ceased to pour over the crowded city. She pulled her hood down, her inky hair braided into a long rope laying against her shoulder. Kaz traced every inch of her, as he often did when she entered a room: the slope of her nose, the smile she flashed to the greetings shouted in her direction, the knives strapped to her hips. He tried to ignore the voice in the back of his head that reminded him he’d also be content to be with her forever.

There were times he hated the things that he would notice, hated how his brain slipped past the innocent intention of watching to a sinister place of touch and consequence. He flipped the thoughts over in his head, studying them from every angle like he would a card trick, trying to mold them into different pictures. But the images froze in place anyway; the feel of her skin against his burned like fire, even in an illusion.

Most of all, he hated that he couldn’t force these delusions into reality, couldn’t touch her how he wanted, couldn’t force the bile down and only feel Inej’s warmth.  

As she approached him, nodding to the private game rooms at the back of the club, giving him a clear view of her, he saw that something was amiss. Scarlet bloomed through her vest and onto her sleeve, trailing down to her thigh. He followed her, shutting the heavy door behind them and turning its complex series of locks. She’s upright. That’s all you should care about. 

“The Exchange was crawling with Stadwatch. Security must be tight since the incident.” 

“Did they see you?”

Inej practically scoffed, leaning her weight against the wooden table. “No. But I’m sure they’ll find someone who fits their bill. You know as well as I do, the council will want this quieted soon.”

Kaz nodded. Two weeks ago, the Exchange had been robbed, and though it was never publicly released, Kaz knew exactly what was stolen. After all, he had all the stocks and shipment papers locked in his safe as they spoke. 

Roeder had been the one to pull off the job originally, this being one of the few things Kaz had required a spider for while she was busy at sea. He had done a mediocre job, but he was sloppy with locks and leaving the place as he’d found it. Going back to the scene of the crime seemed too risky a gamble but when Inej returned, she knew she could scrape it. And Kaz wasn’t going to start doubting the Wraith’s abilities now. 

He flipped through the file she handed him. To anyone else, it may have looked useless, just pages and pages of numbers and times, scratchy handwritten tables filled with nonsense. But to him, and to a mercher with half a whit, this was key to investing. With the talleys and dates in hand, he would know what shipments to bank on and where to place his shares for the next few months. 

“As always, the Wraith pulls through.”

Inej nodded and pulled her hood up once more. “You’re welcome.”

Kaz gave her another once over, slower than intended. “What happened?” He blurted, his voice sounding like a low growl in his throat.  

Inej looked down at herself, brows knitted, studying the blood on her trousers. “Bullet or two from a guard just shooting at shadows.” With her brief summary of events, she took her weight off the table, readying herself for the journey back into the wet.

Kaz felt a sinking in his chest at the thought of her walking away from him, even if it was just to her apartment, and he hated himself for it. Now especially with her covered in blood, he couldn’t stomach the thought of her leaving. Without meaning to, he had taken himself back to before she had left.

It had been Inej’s last night before heading to sea when they had tried to pretend they were normal, that there wasn’t still so much between them. Kaz sat next to her on his bed, bad leg out in front of him, avoiding her gaze. 

“We don’t have to do this at all.”

But he did. Kaz had to prove that he had come further than this. I can best this… 

When she set sail the next morning, the feeling of failure settled deep within him, right beside the feeling that this time, he may never get her back from the sea. 

Now, he couldn’t help but stop her. “Inej-” he began. 

She turned, her hand resting on the doors heavy handle.

He made up the steps between them to stand beside her. Kaz forced himself to give any semblance of explanation, knowing that he’d promised to give her what she deserved and knowing that he was currently failing. “Let me walk with you.”

Inej nodded, dropping her hand as Kaz unlocked the door and opened it for her. He felt awkward, and quite frankly stupid; opening it as if she was some pretty girl that couldn’t handle the difference between whether to push or pull. She strided through anyway and he followed, silently cursing himself and hoping the grimace on his face looked normal for his temperament. Once they’d made it to the street, she slowed to walk beside him. 

At first, neither of them spoke. Then, in her gentle and hushed tone, perhaps to avoid his inevitable questions about her evening, “Am I getting a personal escort through the Barrel?”

Kaz needn’t look down to feel the smile in her voice. “Is that what you’d prefer to call it?”

“It isn’t exactly an evening stroll down the canal, is it?”

“I suppose not.” He cringed at the sound of his own rasp, smashing against the lift of her voice like waves against stone. Though from what he could tell, she didn’t do the same. Inej only shrugged, tugging her hood forward against the drizzle. 

“I only meant that I should feel lucky to get the King of the Barrel to myself for the night.”

Kaz thought he might keel over. “I am a busy man, but I still find time to survey my kingdom.”

Inej only rolled her eyes and kept her gaze straight forward. A moment of silence nestled between them, leaving only the sound off the East Stave hanging in the air. After fighting with himself for what seemed like far too long, his gaze settled atop her.

“Yes?”

Kaz swallowed hard, “Did you miss Ketterdam?” Did you miss me? 

She considered his question, and to him, the silence stretched through the air like a rubber band about to break. 

“I did. More than I thought I would.” Inej finally relented. Her voice had drifted to a somber place, a quiet stillness replacing the humor she’d had minutes before. 

They had turned down a back alley, the darkness consuming them in sore contrast to the dazzling lights of the Stave. Their footsteps echoed in a syncopated rhythm, his awkward gait and cane paired with her near-soundless steps. 

Maybe it was the high of having her back, walking next to him through Ketterdam as they’d done so many times before, but he hadn’t realized the direction they’d been walking. They approached the Slat, its crooked frame jutting out from the foundation at a welcoming tilt. He glanced down to Inej once more, watching as she took in the building, trying to see it through her eyes, as he wished to see much of the world. 

“Is the Captain afraid of her old nest?”

If he had intended it as a jab, she didn’t take it as such. Inej shook her head once, “It just feels like home…” 

She moved before he did, taking a deep breath of the stale air inside as she stepped through the threshold. There was movement, as there always was, but the Slat was quiet this time of night and Kaz was thankful. It meant that, selfishly, he could keep Inej upstairs and to himself for as long as he could come up with things to talk about. Perhaps they’d even sit on his bed and she would allow him to make up for the last time they’d found themselves there. 

Kaz marveled at her as she took the creaky stairs ahead of him, the steps creaking beneath his weight after seemingly not registering her. His eyes once again wandered to the blood stains that covered her. He felt a hair-pin trigger go off in his chest and suddenly, there was anger. 

Stop that. She isn’t yours to save. 

Inej waited for him to open the door, sidestepping as they both now stood on the landing. If Kaz hadn’t just been studying her, he might have missed her change in demeanor and the way she shifted her weight to the wall behind her.  

“Inej.”

“Hm?”

Kaz attempted to even his tone. “How bad are they?” 

“What?”

His voice sounded like stones grinding against one another, “The bullet wounds.”

She shrugged but he could see the stress of the evening in her features. Her limbs seemed heavy and her eyelids fought to open with every blink. With a shove, Kaz unlocked his office door, forcing the warped wood open and, without hesitation, Inej followed him in, taking in the room as she clicked the locks back into place.

He leaned his cane against the makeshift desk and shucked his gloves off as he approached the cabinet beneath his wash basin, digging through its drawers for gauze and shears. Behind him, he heard the familiar creak of his window opening. The smell of rain against the cobblestones wafted toward him. 

“Your window seat has felt neglected. Your crows too.”

“Does that mean you stopped feeding them while I was gone?”

No. They reminded me of you. I couldn’t let another piece of you go. “They’re scavengers. I’m sure they managed.”

It was then that Kaz turned to see her standing by his bed. Inej looked up, her cheeks flushing red like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t have been. He only walked over, setting the bandages on the thin mattress. “So I don’t have to find a heartrender for you.”

“They really aren’t that bad-”

“You’ve bled through your clothes. They’re bad enough.”

Inej cleared her throat as she began removing layers of knives and clothes. Kaz’s eyes roved over her, the pounding in his chest growing louder. He hated it. 

 Her arms and shoulders were covered in fresh scars, some of them still red and scabbed, and the bruises on her ribs were still deep purple. 

“Slavers don’t give up their cargo easily.” Inej’s voice came out with caution, as if she was waiting to see his reaction. 

His gaze met hers, voice carving into the air like a rusted blade. “Where are they all now?”

“Dead.”

A sense of pride cracked through him as a rare smile settled on his lips. Kaz nodded. “Good.” 

She picked up a strip of bandage, wrapping it around the bullet wound on her bicep, silence filling the space between them. Inej didn’t need to look up to feel the weight of his eyes on her. A flush crept to the tops of her ears. “I didn’t want you to see.”

It was rare for Kaz Brekker to be confused and yet, here he was. 

“I thought you might kill someone. Or start to doubt that I could handle myself.”

“I could never doubt you. Only a fool would.” It was only after he said it that he realized it had been aloud. 

Inej tied off the bandage then glanced down to the blood on her pants.  

“I can-”

“No.” She said, finally making eye contact with him again. “Stay.”

For his sake and hers, Kaz turned his head to avoid staring as she shimmied out of the bloodied fabric. 

She sat on the edge of the bed and poked around for any bullet fragments, the muscles in her thigh tensing, the dried blood on her skin looking black. Inej was just as strong as ever; all her limbs built of corded muscle coated in the lithe grace of an acrobat, just as he remembered. Despite his better judgement, Kaz took a long look at her. 

It’s shame that eats men whole. He could feel it gnawing at him as he attempted to push away the image of her bare thighs against his sheets. 

“Kaz, can you-?” She nodded to the scissors, her hands stuck at an awkward angle around her leg, the apprehension on her face clear. 

He picked them up and took a deep breath before sitting down beside her. When he leaned over, he was careful not to touch her. Her breath stirred the hair on the back of his neck. One turn of his head and their lips would have been inches apart. This reminded him far too much of the hotel washroom; he only hoped it would end better. 

Kaz cut the bandage gently, taking the end from her and tying it, his knuckles grazing against her skin. Panic hit him before anything else, afraid he had overstepped. It took him a moment to realize there was no revulsion roiling through him. 

“Inej-”

“It’s alright… Thank you.”

He nodded, grabbing what was left of the bandages and the shears and placing them on top of his dresser. Then he opened one of his drawers, rummaging through the mess of clothes until he found what he had been looking for. 

Kaz handed her a pair of cotton sleep trousers. “I can’t imagine yours are salvageable.”

Inej smiled, sliding them over her legs. They were huge on her. And though they hadn’t discussed her sleeping arrangements for the evening, it appeared she would be staying there. 

He sat back down, staring at his bare hands; the hands that had just graced her without trouble or hesitation. She reached over, threading her fingers through his, and studied him, watching for the shift. But it never came. 

“Will you lay with me?”

At that, he looked up. 

In front of him was a girl who deserved so much more than Dirtyhands. A girl who made the sea cower and made the sun look dull. A girl who could have done anything she wished in life with ease and grace. And yet- she was sat in his bed, holding his hand, and patiently waiting for the semblances of affection he could provide. 

Kaz felt himself nod. 

She pushed herself back until she was against the wooden headboard. They both moved slowly, carefully placing their limbs so there was no overlap. 

Then, he was laying beside her; both of their heads turned to study each other.

“Thank you.” Inej’s voice nearly a whisper. 

The minutes stretched into hours, and Kaz lay listening to her breathing. I will have you without armor. 

Well after twelve bells, the cadence of sleep seemed to grab hold of him, weighing heavy on his body. As his eyes drifted shut, he hoped that there would be more nights like this: nights with Inej close by his side and stillness in his mind. 

He reached for her hand in the dark and promised he would not let go come morning. He would never let go of her again. 

[onecanonlife]

the wind that remakes

It's been ten years since the princes of the Antarctic Empire vanished. But the king's still offering a hefty reward for their return, and Tommy thinks it's about time he and Tubbo tried for it. No matter what they have to do.

It's time to pull off the con of the century.

(fic masterlist w/ ao3 links)

(next chapter)

(chapter word count: 5,474)

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Chapter One: let the valleys awake (let them rattle and shake)

It starts like this: Tommy and Tubbo are looking for someone they could feasibly pass off as one of the Lost Princes of the Antarctic Empire, because the reward is a shit load of money and Tommy wants a piece of it. But they’re not having any luck, right up until they pass by a busker on the street corner and something in Tommy’s head just clicks, just says, yes, that one, he’s the one.

And, well. Tommy is a Big Man whose instincts are never wrong, so he nudges Tubbo and points. Tubbo’s nose scrunches up, but Tommy doesn’t give him time to object before he’s marching over, already preparing his dialogue. And as he gets closer, he’s more and more certain that he’s right about this; the guy has the right hair color, the right face structure, and he’s a performer to boot, and taken all together, it smells like a successful scam just waiting to be implemented.

The guy doesn’t look up when he comes over, so instead of talking to him, Tommy pulls out the rumpled picture that they’ve been using all day, one of the photos of Prince Wilbur that’s been circulating around the Empire for years now, in hopes that someone will see him and bring him home. Fat chance of that ever happening, of course, and King Philza must be a sucker for thinking it, but it makes his and Tubbo’s jobs easier, so he’s hardly going to complain about it. He holds the picture up, comparing the face of the prince to that of the street performer, and actually, the resemblance is kind of uncanny.

“Tubbo, my friend,” he says, “I think we’ve got him.”

Tubbo makes a noncommittal noise, but that finally gets the performer to look up from his guitar.

“Can I help you with something?” he asks, and Tommy grins.

“Actually, we’re about to help you,” he says, and he sounds very grand and impressive, if he does say so himself. Which makes it all the more annoying when the guy looks him up and down like he’s worth the dirt on his shoes.

“Really,” he says, and his voice is dripping with so much sarcasm, Tommy’s surprised that it doesn’t manifest physically somehow.

“Yes, really,” he says. He refuses to be put off. This is the guy, he just knows it, the guy who’s going to make them so fucking rich that they’ll be able to swim in gold, or whatever it is rich people do with their money. “You’re one of the Lost Princes of the Antarctic Empire.”

The guy blinks. “Pretty sure I’m not,” he says.

“Pretty sure you are,” he returns. “See, look, we’ve got a photo of you and everything.” He shows the guy the photo, and the guy narrows his eyes. “Or at least, we’ve got a photo of Prince Wilbur, but it could be you, too. That’s a kid in this picture. No telling what he looks like now. Could look like you.”

“We’re inviting you in on our scam,” Tubbo puts in. “If you couldn’t tell. You interested?”

“Wait,” the guy says. “Wait. You’re telling me that you want to pretend that I’m a fucking prince so that you can get the reward money off the king? Something I’m sure no one has ever tried to do before. You don’t know me at all, and you don’t know if I can act worth a damn, you just think I look like the prince did when he was fourteen. But just to be clear, that’s what you’re proposing?”

He looks at Tubbo. Tubbo looks at him.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Tubbo says. “If it makes you feel better about it, we’re really, really good con artists.”

“You’re infants, is what you are,” the guy says. “How old are you, five?”

“We’re sixteen, fuck off,” Tommy snaps. “Look, do you want in or not? Pretty sure living in a cushy palace has got to be better than whatever you’ve got going on here.”

“Hm, let’s see, do I want to upend my entire life to try to trick a grieving father into thinking that I’m one of his long lost sons? Which, incidentally, is a plan that will probably not work and get us all thrown in prison for fraud,” the guy says.

“We’re going to try very hard not to get thrown into prison for fraud,” Tubbo is quick to say, but the guy doesn’t seem to be paying attention.

“Sure, let’s go,” the guy says. “Not like I’ve got much else to do. You two have names?”

“This is Tubbo,” Tommy says. “I’m Tommy.”

The guy raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, like Prince Tommy,” he says. “It’s a common name, so shut up about it.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” the guy says. “I mean, my name’s Will, so.”

He can’t stop himself from laughing, because that’s just too good. “Are you serious?” he demands, smiling widely. “You’re joking, your name is actually Will?”

Will shrugs. “It’s what I’ve always gone by, ever since I was a teenager. I can’t really remember any of my childhood, so who knows, maybe I actually am a prince.” He smiles in a way that makes it clear how much of a joke he thinks that is, and he stands and reaches for his guitar case. There’s not much money in it, despite the fact that from what Tommy heard of his playing, he’s pretty damn good.

Tubbo snorts.

And Tommy claps their newfound friend on the back.

“Will,” he says, “I think this is the beginning of an excellent partnership.” He grins broadly, the type of grin that always has Tubbo rolling his eyes and asking where the fire is, which is unfair, frankly. It’s not always a fire. Just sometimes, because arson can be fun, actually, and some people deserve to have their stuff burned down.

Will, to his delight and Tubbo’s obvious consternation, grins the same kind of grin right back at him.

-----

It starts like this: it is indeed the beginning of an excellent partnership.

Will fits in with them like he was born to the role, and Tommy will never admit how fast he’s gotten attached to the guy, but he is kind of very attached. Because Will is smart and funny, with a sense of wit that can have both him and Tubbo in stitches, and it’s also nice to have an adult around, a bit. Not that he and Tubbo need one; they’ve gotten along just fine without for years. But people don’t shoot them as many suspicious looks when they’re with Will, and it turns out that he’s a brilliant actor, too, charismatic and smooth and confident, and he has people eating right out of his hand while Tommy and Tubbo sneak around and pick their pockets. It’s a wonderful arrangement, and within a week or two, Tommy can barely remember what life was like without him there.

The main issue is travel.

It’s a long way from where they started to the Capitol, and they can’t always afford to travel in the protected caravans, the ones with hired guards against the mobs that swarm over the land at night. And they can’t always afford an inn to stay in, either, and that means spending several harrowing lengths of time cowering in a makeshift shelter, listening to zombies and skeletons and spiders just outside and praying that none of them find their hiding spot, because they’re all scrappy in a fight but they don’t have any real weapons on them. They hadn’t planned for this, really; he and Tubbo have never left the big cities before, and apparently, Will hasn’t either.

“We need a bodyguard,” he declares one day.

“Where are we supposed to get one of those?” Tubbo asks.

“I don’t know,” he says. “But we need one. I’m sick of mobs.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” Will says. He’s setting up a busking spot, trying to get them a little more cash. Somehow, it never seems to be enough. “But I agree with Tubbo. Even if we can find someone to go with us, there’s payment to think about.”

“We don’t need payment,” he protests. “We’ve got a prince! A long lost prince! We’re about to be the richest men in the world! That’s payment, innit?”

Will rolls his eyes. Tubbo does too. They’ve been doing that lately, ganging up on him, which is terrible and unfair.

“Somehow, I don’t think that a good bodyguard will accept that kind of payment,” Tubbo says. “It’d basically be an IOU, right? That’s a terrible business practice.”

He scowls. Tubbo is right, of course, but he’s got his heart set on a bodyguard now. Someone who’s good at fighting—good at fighting mobs, specifically, because Tommy is a very good fighter, thank you very much, it’s just that the people he’s used to fighting are other street kids. For, like, food. Not monsters. Not things that can kill you in one blow, if you’re unlucky.

And then, like fate and providence are shining down on him, his eyes alight on a poster across the street. The poster advertises arena fighting. In this city. Fights daily.

He grabs Tubbo’s arm.

“That,” he says, pointing, “is where we find a bodyguard.”

Tubbo follows his gaze. “Maybe,” he says doubtfully, “but we’ll still need to pay them. How are we supposed to convince someone to come along? I bet they get paid more for fighting than we could ever offer them.”

“Tubbo,” he says, “we’re the greatest con artists in the world. We can think of something.”

Tubbo stares at him. And then grins.

Behind them, Will starts to play.

-----

It starts like this: Will manages to busk enough money to get them three tickets into the arena.

It hurts just a bit, spending their legitimately-earned cash on something like this. But five minutes after stepping through the gates, into the crush of people and the roar of the crowds, the scent of sweat and blood mingling with concessions and stale perfume, Tommy thinks that this might be one of the best things he’s ever gotten to do in his life.

Their seats aren’t great, but they can see alright. The day’s matches start with small fry, and those fights are so boring that he almost starts yawning, because these people are just bashing each other with swords. There’s no finesse to it, no real skill, and he really hopes that there are fighters here better than this, because if there aren’t, this has been a wasted trip. But slowly and surely, the fights get better, more engaging, more of a real show, and his interest returns.

And then, when they’ve been there for hours and the sun is starting to creep toward the horizon, they bring out the big guns.

The announcer calls out someone with the moniker of ‘The Blade,’ and the crowd goes wild. They, evidently, know who this is, and that fact alone is enough to put Tommy on the edge of his seat, because surely, this is who they want? The headliner, the number one, the main attraction? If the spectators like them this much, they must be good.

They step out into the arena, dust clouds puffing where their feet fall, and the crowd gets impossibly louder. It’s hard to make out details from this distance, but Tommy can see pink hair, tied back into a braid, and some kind of mask covering the upper part of their face. It looks a bit like a skull, like this person is actually wearing an actual skull on their face, and that is either extremely overkill or extremely badass, and Tommy can’t quite decide which.

And then, there’s the massive netherite sword they’re holding. Their namesake, Tommy assumes. It’s probably the biggest sword he’s ever seen, and this person is holding it like it weighs nothing at all.

Their opponent comes out, and even though they’re also armed to the teeth, they don’t look nearly as natural as the Blade does. They hold their axe out in front of them as if to ward off blows rather than make them, and they’ve got their shield lifted too high. The Blade, meanwhile, spins their sword—and how strong must they be, to wield such a huge weapon so naturally?—in casual circles, appearing for all the world like this is no more strenuous than a walk in the park.

The announcer shouts. The fight commences.

The Blade fights like it’s as natural as breathing, and Tommy can’t look away. Their style is a mixture of sheer brutality and uncanny grace, and it’s difficult to watch, sometimes, difficult to keep track of exactly what they’re doing; one moment, it will look as if their opponent is holding their own, and then the next, they will have that sword at that opponent’s throat. Or through it, sometimes. The Blade doesn’t seem to have any compunctions about killing.

Tommy loses track of how many matches they fight. Six, maybe, or seven. But they win all of them handily, and by the time the events are all over and people begin to file out of the arena, he’s practically shaking with excitement.

Tubbo beats him to the punch.

“So, it’s them, right?” he says. “We’re gonna try to get them?”

Tommy nods rapidly, unable to contain himself.

“We have to,” he says. “That was fucking—I don’t know what the hell that was, but it was fantastic!”

He glances over at Will, only to find that he’s still staring out into the arena, eyes slightly glazed. Tommy furrows his brow, waiting for him to say something, but when it becomes apparent that he’s not going to, he speaks up.

“Will? You agree?” he asks, and Will blinks, shudders a bit.

“Right,” he says, “yeah, no, sorry, I’m good. Yeah, if we’re actually going to do this, we should aim for the best.”

He still seems a bit out of it, a bit dazed, but he turns his head to meet Tommy’s eyes and smiles, and Tommy tucks his concerns away with the mental equivalent of a shrug. If Will says he’s good, that’s good enough for him.

“Alright,” he says, standing, cracking his knuckles dramatically. Tubbo rolls his eyes at the display, but he ignores him. “Let’s go get ourselves a Blade.”

-----

It starts like this: the key to sneaking in someplace is to look as though you belong there. That’s easier said than done, of course, especially for two ragged teens and a slightly less ragged young adult. But Tommy’s had a long time to figure things like this out, and so has Tubbo, and Will hasn’t done this very often but he always takes to acting out new roles as if he was born to them, so Tommy’s not particularly worried. They find a door marked for employees and slip in, and from there it’s just a matter of finding their way.

He’s got a story prepared in case they get stopped, something about being sent with a message, but no one gives them a second glance. He keeps his head held high, his stride purposeful but not too confident, and simple as that, he appears to be just like everyone else, age and clothing notwithstanding.

“Do they have rooms down here, do you think?” Tubbo mutters. “The fighters?”

“Maybe,” he replies. “Even if they don’t, I bet the Blade is still here. The fight didn’t end that long ago.”

There are a lot of rooms under the arena, a lot of hallways, a lot of space, and it’s a bit mazelike, really. Dark, too; they’ve got redstone-powered lighting, but it’s fritzy, the bulbs flickering and dim. The walls and floors are hard, dank stone, the kind that echoes loudly with every noise, and Tommy can’t help but wince when the sound of their passage bounces off of every surface.

“There’s lots of swords in there,” Tubbo says, peering into one of the rooms they pass. “Isn’t that the Blade’s?”

Tommy stops walking, stepping up next to Tubbo. The room is full of weapons and armor of all kinds, but sure enough, there’s a large sword sitting alone on a table, still flecked with dried blood. It’s even larger up close; Tommy���s not sure he could lift it without using two hands, much less fight with it, though it pains him to admit as much. The Blade is just that strong, apparently, though why he’d leave his prized weapon sitting here in a room of other weapons, out in the open where anyone could mess with it, Tommy has no idea. Unless the sword isn’t actually his, but that doesn’t make much sense, does it?

“Tommy, Tubbo,” Will hisses, the sound sharp in the otherwise empty corridor, and Tommy looks over. Will is standing in front of an iron door a little ways down, a door with a barred window in it. He’s got his eyes fixed on whatever’s on the other side, his expression somewhere between shock and anger, and Tommy exchanges glances with Tubbo.

“What?” he asks, coming over.

“Have a look,” Will whispers, moving aside so that he and Tubbo can see.

He immediately understands what has Will upset.

“Oh gods,” Tubbo says. “They’re prisoners.”

There are cages in this room. Dozens of them, built with black iron, though only a few are occupied. Tommy recognizes most of the people in them, all people who fought in the arena earlier, the best fighters, the ones that gave a good showing, that were actually interesting to watch. They’re all in cages, most of them sitting or lying down, none of them moving all that much. It’s a stark contrast to before, when they were all movement, all aggression. Now, they seem—listless is the best word to describe it. Purposeless. Like all the fight’s been sucked right out of them.

A few of them are in chains, even inside their cages. The Blade is one of those, manacles wrapped around their wrists and ankles, and a collar around their neck. It’s sick, is what it is, like they’re some sort of animal.

“Shit,” Tubbo says. “I thought the hardest part was gonna be trying to convince them to come. Now we’ve got to do a prison break?”

“This isn’t right,” Will mutters. “This isn’t—they’re being forced to fight?”

“Only one way to find out,” Tommy says, and reaches out to push the door open. For a second, it doesn’t budge, and he wonders if it’s locked, because wouldn’t that just be perfect? But then, there is give, and it swings inward with a squeal of rusted hinges. Beside him, Tubbo steps back to look up and down the hallway, but no one appears to shout at them or kill them for trespassing, so Tommy squares his shoulders and strides into the room, trying to keep looking like he belongs.

It doesn’t matter much. Just like the employees they passed, none of the fighters—the prisoners—seem interested at all. So Tommy walks through the room unimpeded until he’s right next to the Blade’s cage. The Blade is sitting on the ground, leaning against the bars, head bowed. They don’t look up.

So Tommy clears his throat.

“Hello,” he says, and congratulates himself on an excellent beginning.

Slowly, the Blade’s head rises, and Tommy can see two things: one, that what he thought might have been a skull mask back in the arena is definitely an entire real skull, holy shit, and two, that the Blade is a young man, far younger than he would have thought him to be. Maybe even younger than Will, who estimates his own age to be around the ballpark of twenty-four or twenty-five.

“Hallo,” the Blade says after a moment. Tommy almost laughs out loud, because the word is said so awkwardly, and more than a bit bewildered, as if the Blade can’t fathom why someone would be talking to him. Which is a bit sad, actually, so Tommy’s going to choose to believe that he’s confused by the presence of a teenager and not by the fact that anyone is there at all. Because the second would just be downright depressing.

“You’re the Blade, right?” Tommy checks.

“That’s what they call me,” the Blade agrees. “And you are?”

“We want to hire you,” Tubbo jumps in. “Or at least, we did. We weren’t really expecting you to be locked up or anything. We might need a new plan. But we wanted you to come with us and be our bodyguard.”

It’s difficult to tell exactly what the Blade’s expression is doing, considering that most of the top half of his face is hidden by the animal skull—is it a pig? Tommy’s pretty sure that it’s a pig, or a boar, or maybe even a hoglin, considering its size—but his eyes are visible, and he glances between both of them slowly, skeptically. Tommy bristles.

“And just what do a couple of ragamuffins need a bodyguard for?” the Blade drawls. “You skip school too many times?” He pauses. “Who do children fight these days? Other children? I can fight you some orphans if you want, I guess. I’m pretty good at that.”

Tommy blinks, his mouth working silently for a second. He wants to be indignant at being addressed like a kid, like he’s not even worthy of consideration, but that is superseded by his sheer bewilderment at the way the Blade talks, like he’d just casually enjoy the chance to rough up some orphans. He looks at Tubbo, and sees the exact same question reflected in his best friend’s face: Just what kind of guy have we started talking to?

This isn’t like Will, where he could tell immediately that he would be right for the job and for their team overall. The smart thing to do would probably be to give up and look elsewhere for someone to hire. And yet, Tommy finds himself intrigued. This is a very strange man, obviously, and he’s never been able to resist poking at strange things.

“No, no orphans,” he says, muttering a quick, “What the fuck?” under his breath for good measure. “We just need protection on the road. From mobs and such. We will literally break you out of here if you come with us.”

The Blade tilts his head.

“You could try,” he says. “I can’t say I’m enthusiastic about the idea.”

“You can’t possibly want to stay in here,” Tubbo says incredulously. The Blade shrugs.

“No,” he agrees, “but there’s not much of anythin’ for me out there, either. Everything about this place sucks, but at least I get to fight people. I like doin’ that. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I got out.”

And that—forget earlier, that is so, so incredibly sad. In both the pathetic way and in the actual terrible way.

“There’ll be plenty of mobs to fight on the road,” he says, grasping at straws now. He’s got a few ideas for how they could successfully orchestrate a prison break, but in order for that to happen, the Blade needs to be willing to go. “Loads of ‘em. And besides, we’re bringing Prince Wilbur back to the king, and there’ll be a great big reward for it. You’ll be rich enough to do whatever you want after that.”

“Like fight orphans,” Tubbo adds helpfully.

“Yeah, like fighting orphans. So c’mon, what do you say?”

The Blade has gone very, very still.

“You’re doing what?” he says, his tone completely flat. A shiver runs down Tommy’s spine, because that is not a good tone. That is a tone that promises violence, that promises bloodshed, that promises death, and he’s not sure how he knows that, but he’s sure of it, sure as he knows his own name, that he has somehow just said something to make this man very, very dangerous.

“Uh, we’ve found Prince Wilbur?” he says. “And we’re bringing him back to the Capitol so we can get the reward money? And that’s why we need—”

“Prince Wilbur is dead. All of the princes of the Antarctic Empire are dead.”

The way he says it shocks Tommy into silence, and he doesn’t know why. It’s hardly an outrageous thing to say; it’s the general consensus of the common folk, after all, that King Philza is clinging to false hope, that he is a decent man but also one to be pitied, for refusing to accept the loss of his sons. Hell, Tommy himself has never believed in the myths, in the stories that go something like, so-and-so saw one of the princes by the train tracks or so-and-so saw them on a cart crossing the border or shit like that. The princes were kids when the invasion happened and the Empire itself was almost lost; there’s probably no way that they survived being taken by the enemy, the invaders that crept out of the End.

But the way the Blade says it—

He’s so certain. Like there is absolutely no doubt in his mind. The princes are dead, and there’s not even room for argument, not room for so much as a rumor to the contrary. Tommy agrees with him, but even he can’t claim that level of surety.

“Uh,” Tubbo says. “I mean, obviously it’s a scam. We’re scamming the king. We don’t actually have the prince. But we’d still like a bodyguard.”

“No,” the Blade says, in that same voice, low and monotone and terrifying. “You should leave. I’ll have no part in this.”

“Oh come on,” Tommy says, regaining his voice. He doesn’t know what to do with the Blade’s convictions, but he knows how to talk his way out of a denial. “Look, why don’t you—where’s Will? Will?”

Will’s not standing at the cage with them. Somehow, he’s only just noticing this. He turns, and Will is lurking back by the door to the room, keeping to the shadows, shifting uneasily. Which, fine, he can do what he wants, except for right now, because the more adamantly the Blade turns them down, the more Tommy wants him to come along.

“Will,” he calls, and his voice reverberates through the room. A couple of the other prisoners lift their heads. “Come talk to this guy! Tell him he should come with us!”

Will approaches slowly, strangely hesitantly, stepping up on the other side of Tubbo.

“We are in the market for a bodyguard,” he says quietly. “We thought you fit the bill.” He pauses. “We can’t guarantee that any of this will work, of course, but I’m an excellent actor, and these two are literal children, but they’re not bad.”

“Aw, thanks,” Tubbo says.

“Watch who you’re calling a fucking child,” Tommy says.

“What?” the Blade says. “You’re—Wilbur?”

“Will,” Will corrects, “but yes, we’re passing me off as Prince Wilbur.”

“Passing you off,” the Blade repeats. Slowly, he rises to his feet for the first time, and wow, he’s tall.

“Kind of the definition of a scam,” Tommy says.

“A scam,” the Blade repeats again. “This is a scam.”

“We just told you this,” he says. “Are you a bit slow or what?”

“No, just tryin’ to understand,” the Blade says. “You’re tellin’ me right now that this is definitely a scam. And you are not actually Prince Wilbur of the Antarctic Empire.”

“That is what we’re telling you, yes,” Will says, and Tommy is glad that he does, because he’s pretty sure he’s lost the thread of the conversation. The Blade is a strange, strange man, and frankly, he’s not making any sense at all anymore.

“Okay,” the Blade says. “I’m in. Bust me out.”

Tommy blinks. And then blinks again.

“What, really?”

“Yeah, you’ve convinced me,” the Blade says.

“Literally how,” Tubbo states, but Tommy punches him on the arm to get him to shut up, because they don’t need him to think about it, don’t need him second-guessing his decision.

“Alright!” he whoops. “One jail break, coming right up!”

“Right,” the Blade says. “Who are you again?”

He’s already leaving the room. But he hears Tubbo say, “I’m Tubbo, and that’s Tommy,” and he hears the Blade’s strangled, “Heh?” in return, and that’s a bit weird, but he doesn’t pay it much mind. They’ve inducted a strange man into their little band, but that doesn’t matter much, as long as he’s as good with his sword against mobs as he is against people.

-----

It starts like this: a massive netherite sword, left unattended, works amazingly for cutting through iron.

A massive, enchanted netherite sword also works amazingly for setting things on fire.

It’s a mess after that, a blur and a rush of adrenaline, but they cut up all of the other cages and chains to give the other prisoners a chance to get out, and then they’re running, and the place is on fire behind them because for a labyrinth under an arena, there’s a surprising amount of wood around here. And there are people shouting at them, and a few people that try to attack, but the Blade mows them down and laughs, and there’s blood and lots of it, too, but in the moment it doesn’t seem to matter so much.

He’s got Tubbo by his side. Will at his back. The Blade close at hand. And in a way he can’t quite describe, it feels very right.

-----

It starts like this: Tommy doesn’t know where he comes from.

He sort of vaguely remembers things, sometimes. He thinks he had a family, once. If he strains himself, he can recall fuzzy impressions: someone holding him, safe and warm. Someone’s laugh. Someone singing. An overwhelming sense of being secure, of being protected, of being loved.

But if he strains himself, sometimes he remembers other things, too. Darkness, terror, screams. Fear and disorientation, and a voice, clear as day: “Take your brothers and go!”

He’s turned that piece of dialogue over and over in his mind so many times. It’s all he has, the only hint he has to go on. It’s a male voice, clearly an adult. He likes to think that it’s his father. Though maybe he shouldn’t hope for that; he doesn’t remember what happened, but he’s sure it was dangerous, and if that person was his father, he might be dead. Probably is, in fact. There’s a reason why he ended up in an orphanage, after all.

Those are his first clear memories, at that orphanage. They estimated him at about five or six, and he’s pretty sure they were right, so he really should have at least a few memories from before. But he doesn’t, and the woman who looked after him the most told him that he probably went through what she called a trau-ma-tic event. Because trau-ma-tic events, she said, sounding out the syllables just like that to make sure he understood, could sometimes make you forget things. And sometimes the memories come back, but sometimes they don’t.

She was always kind to him. They all were, at that orphanage. And then that orphanage got shut down and he got shipped off and never saw any of them again, because kindness is no way to run a business. Kindness doesn’t get you many places.

It was orphanage after orphanage after that. They always looked for excuses to get rid of him. He was a problem child, the particular kind that always gets pegged before their mouths even open. He’s never understood it. Something about the look in his eyes, maybe. Not that it matters; he got put in the same orphanage as Tubbo at twelve, and they ran away together and didn’t look back.

No point in crying over dropped diamonds. No point in longing for something he can’t have. Can’t remember.

But sometimes, he lets himself wonder what his life would be like, if he’d gotten to keep that first family he’s certain that he had. He wonders what they were like. His maybe-father. The brothers that he thinks might have been his. He wonders, and he wonders if it’s possible to miss people that he never really knew.

But none of that matters in the long run, not really. Because he’s got his Tubbo, who’s better than any brother he could possibly ask for. And now he’s got Will, who’s funny and charming and just as irritating as he always suspected an older brother would be, and he’s got the Blade, who’s strange and sarcastic and so skilled that it’s scary, honestly, and they’re on their way to scam a king, and there’s nowhere to go but up from here.

He looks around him, at his friends and he thinks, Yeah. Yeah, this is good.

[kelieah]

surprise (peter parker x stark!reader)

summary: you give peter a gift he would have never expected to receive from you

word count: 2.9k

warnings: angst angst angst, fluff, language

edited: sorry this is super late :(

a/n: hehe, happy bday to the cutest puppy of all! thank you to everyone who helped me come up with ideas for this fic, ily all 3000

masterlist

You and Peter have been dating for almost a year now. You both decided to get together after all the chaos that took place in Europe. You two have been friends for quite a while before that, so the fact that your friendship with Peter flourished into something even better is one of the many reasons why you adore him.

His birthday is tomorrow and you wish to make it as special as it can be. Though you’re not exactly sure how to do that. You know your dad would’ve easily bought something tremendously big and written a cheesy yet short letter with it, and Peter would love it. But if you did the same, it wouldn’t be right. Right?

The night before his birthday, you were in a spiral. You had already planned a surprise party for him at his apartment though that was the least of your worries. You were pacing around your room, unsure if the gifts you’ve been preparing for weeks was enough or if you should add more things. 

Over the years you’ve been friends with him and the months you’ve been dating him, you put together memories and experiences all in a scrapbook. It looked cute and simple on the outside, but once you opened it up, the pages were filled with photos, letters, doodles, and colors. Many references or inside jokes were scattered along the side margins and stickers were put accordingly. You made sure it was perfect, but your gift still felt incomplete to you.

You wanted to be extra. You had to be extra. You remember your mom saying it was something you got from your dad. That man was always one for his dramatics. So you stayed up a bit later than you should’ve, making tiny little paper stars with sweet compliments, affirmations, and advice in them. Then you made as many as you can to fill up a glass jar shaped like R2-D2. 

Though to you, that still wasn’t enough. So you searched and searched and eventually found some vintage Star-Wars comics. Ignoring the fact that they were over a thousand bucks, you bought a dozen or so. His gifts were spread across your bed and you stared at it for what felt like hours.

Is this enough? Is this too much? Will he love it? Will he even like it? Shit.

You remember wanting to sleep and putting it all aside to figure out in the morning. You might’ve forgotten his birthday was the next day with how much you focused on the gifts than the actual date, so you woke up with panic.

You also remembered there was one last thing you wanted to get for Peter but once you glanced at the clock, it was already noon. You overslept.

You feel your heart drop immediately realizing that you weren’t able to text or call Peter a happy birthday or good morning. You assume he must be worried, or hurt or maybe upset? You place your face in your hands and fall into deep thought. Then it hit you, the surprise party is in three hours.

“Morning Friday, read my text messages and voicemails please,” you groggily lean against your bed rest.

“Are you sure, Y/n? You have 243 text messages and 94 voicemails,” Friday informs you. 

Your eyes widen and you shake your head, “Uhm, actually just read the ones from Mom, Peter, Aunt May, and Happy please,” you mutter.

“Understood,” Friday responds, beginning to go through your messages and voicemails, “Mom has messaged you, “Morning honey. Had to go to some meetings. Nanny is leaving at 1, please watch Morgan. I’ll meet you at the party. Could you bring Morgan with you when you go?” Peter has not messaged or called you. Aunt May has messaged you, “Hi dear! I’ve already baked up some cherry pies for the party, when are you going to be over to decorate? By the way, Peter went out and is probably patrolling,” with a smiley face and heart. Happy has messaged you, “Hello, I already ordered the catering, and went over the invite list. Are you up yet?” and he also left the voicemail saying, “Hopefully you’re up by the time you get this. Most of the Avengers are coming, except Thor, the Saviors, no wait, the Guardians of whatever they’re called, and Captain Marvel. I’m sure you could figure out why. Give me a call when you’re up.” Done.”

“Shit,” you whine loudly. You throw yourself out of bed and get to your morning routine. You quickly tidy up your room, take a quick shower, go through your skincare routine and get dressed up. You decided to put on some makeup and wear nicer clothes for once given it’s your boyfriend’s birthday.

You look around your room and inhale deeply, “Just that one last thing,” you remind yourself and walk off. After getting what you need, the nanny informs you that she’s leaving. You walk over to Morgan’s room and knock the door before entering, “Hi princess, you ready for Spider-Man’s birthday?”

She turns around, all dressed up in a pretty floral dress, “Hi sissy, yes! Don’t you mean, your friend boy?” she giggles, running up to you.

You roll your eyes playfully, “You mean boyfriend? Yes, c’mon pretty girl. We’re going to go now.”

An hour or so later, you’re making your way over to Aunt May and Peter’s apartment with Morgan in the backseat. You felt bad for not greeting Peter at all today but you decided to make it a part of the surprise. “He still has a tracker in his suit!?” you burst out in laughter as you stop at a red light.

“Seems like Tony didn’t get rid of it before, I don’t blame him,” Happy mutters. “You got everything right? Morgan, Peter’s gifts, the decorations, and your head?”

“Yes Happy,” you glance into your back seat, checking in on Morgan and seeing the piled clutter. “I feel like Santa Clause with a bunch of gifts and an elf in the backseat,” you chuckle. Morgan gasps and makes a silly expression at you that brings a smile to your face.

“Maybe you are with all the cookies you eat,” he jokes.

“You’re one to talk, anyway where’s Peter now?” you ask as you drive off as soon as the light turns green.

“He’s swinging around, I saw the news. He’s interacting with fans and interviewers, a pretty rare case.”

“True, he must be trying to distract himself. Am I the only one who hasn’t greeted him yet?” you ask, nervously biting on your bottom lip.

“Yep.”

“Shoot, well I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“Let’s hope so, I’ll see you and Morgan when you both get here. Gotta help May out with the pies.”

“Sure, the pies,” you tease, causing Happy to roll his eyes and end the call.

You feel your heart stop as Peter suddenly gives you a call. You fight the urge to pick up and shower him in reassurance and love, but ignore for the sake of the surprise. 

Ten to twenty minutes later, you and Morgan arrive at May and Peter’s apartment. You smile and knock on the door, struggling to hold everything in your arms while holding Morgan’s hand.

“Hello hello, you two,” Aunt May opens the door with a bright smile on her face. She lets you in and helps you out, “Took you long enough.”

“Sorry, I overslept. I wasn’t sure if my gifts were enough,” you pout and kiss her cheek. 

“That’s okay. Morgan baby, Happy’s in the kitchen.” May smiles and ruffles Morgan’s hair. Morgan hums and hugs her leg, running off.

“These are all your gifts for him? Sweetheart, it’s his birthday not Christmas,” she giggles. “I’m sure he would love anything you get for him, even if it was a cheap lego set.”

“I know I know, it’s just Peter has been through so much. I feel like he deserves the world,” you say bashfully.

“You’re so cute,” she hums and helps you place the many gifts on a certain table. “Remember, you have been through a lot too.”

“Yes, but today’s his day,” you cross your arms. “Anyway, enough chatter. We should decorate now, everyone’s coming over in an hour right?”

“Yep. I also told Peter to swing around for a while and bring Thai food home at 4. He thinks it’s just going to be him, Happy and I. I told him you have work,” she says, grabbing some decorations.

“Okay, perfect. I feel so bad, I haven’t communicated with him since last morning,” you huff and grab some streamers.

“I’m sure he understands, kid gets busy too,” Happy walks over from the kitchen with Morgan trailing behind him. “Man, are these all your gifts for him?” he glances over at a table filled with only your gifts.

“Y-Yes? Why is that such a bad thing,” you groan.

“It’s not, I think,” he glances at May who gives him a look. He puts his hands up in defense and slowly walks back into the kitchen.

“You’re fine, honey. Also, I love your dress, isn’t that?” she tilts her head.

“Yeah, it’s the dress I was wearing on our first date,” you smile to yourself, glancing down at your cherry red dress. It fit perfectly, not too loose or tight and it had pockets. Something you and Peter were always amused by.

After the three of you finish decorating, the guests begin to arrive. Most of the team showed up and you and Peter’s close friends. You let out a sigh of relief and lean on the fire escape railing, looking out at the city. You glance at your watch, “Almost time.”

“Hey there,” you hear from behind you. You look back and see Happy.

“Hey.”

“You doing alright? Peter’s coming soon,” he says and walks next to you, leaning against the railing.

“I know, I just feel like. I did too much? Too less? I’m not sure, I just wanted this day to be perfect for him especially after last year,” you mutter and glance at Happy with teary eyes.

He smiles sadly and pulls you into a hug, “It’s absolutely perfect. You know, Peter isn’t going to be the only one who’s proud.”

“Who else? You?”

“Well, besides me and a bunch of other people. Your dad,” he murmurs.

You feel your heart tighten and you stifle a cry, stuffing your head into his chest. He sighs and hugs you close, “Thank you.”

“No, thank you. Sometimes I feel like he never left, because everyday I see him in you,” he pulls away, holding your shoulder.

You smile softly and nod, “T-Thank you, Happy really,” you sniffle.

“Of course. You should probably tidy up, your makeup’s running,” he takes a step back.

You laugh half-heartedly, “Alright. Could you tell everyone to get in their places?” you begin to walk towards the apartment.

“Got it,” he nods and follows you back inside.

Your heart was racing, everyone wasn’t sure if he was going to show up at the front door or his room. Happy gives the signal that he’s arrived and everyone goes silent. You feel a slight sense of relief when you hear noises from the front door. If he came through his room, he probably wouldn't be that surprised. 

Peter sighs and holds the bag of Thai food in one hand, opening up the door with a key in the other. His senses have been all over the place today and his heart didn’t feel like it was in the right place. He was beyond worried about you, he didn’t even care that it was his birthday. He just wanted to know if you were okay.

He opens the door, calling out for May. “May, I’m home-”

“Surprise!” Everyone appears out from their spots, greeting Peter with bright smiles and confetti. 

Peter instantly jumps and places a hand over his heart. “G-Guys!? Bruce? Scott? Wait, Ned? MJ!?” he stammers, looking all over the place.

“Happy birthday, Spidey,” you come out of your hiding spot, smiling warmly at him.

“Oh my god, Y/n,” he breathes out and rushes over to you, pulling you into a hug. You let out a gasp as he picks you up and spins you around. He places you down and hugs you closer. He pulls away and glances at your dress then at you, “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he sighs, kissing your cheek. 

You blush at his comment and fiddle with your dress. “Thank you,” you smile, hoping he notices your outfit.

“Wait, isn’t this the dress from our first date?” he holds some of your dress and glances at you. You grin and nod, he sighs happily and pulls you back into a hug.

Everyone reacts sweetly until Flash, who was surprisingly invited yells out, “Get a room!” Everyone instantly glares at him and he shrivels up, smiling sheepishly.

You roll your eyes and Peter ignores him, peppering your face with kisses. “I thought you were mad at me or something, or hurt, or just forgot about me,” he rambles, holding your face.

“Well, luckily none of those are the cases. I just wanted to surprise you,” you hum.

“You planned all this?” he gapes, glancing around his apartment once again.

“Yes, but I had a lot of help,” you hum.

“Friend boy!” Morgan squeals and rushes over, hugging you and Peter’s legs. “Happy birthday,” she beams.

Peter’s eyes soften and his bends down, “Thank you cutie,” he grins.

She squeals and hugs him, “Can you be my friend boy?”

You gasp dramatically, “Morgan, he’s my friend boy.”

“I don’t know babe, Morgan looks amazing in her little princess dress,” he picks up Morgan, holding her close.

You pout and cross your arms. Morgan bubbles happily and wraps her tiny arms around his neck.

To say Peter was overwhelmed with happiness was an understatement. He felt relief, appreciation, love and support. This whole time he was worrying that he had done something wrong when really nothing was wrong and everyone was just hiding and being quiet for his surprise.

After catching up with some of the Avengers and friends and eating dinner all together, it was time for cake and presents.

You couldn’t express how unbelievably happy and emotional you felt for Peter as he stood in front of his cake as everyone sang Happy Birthday to him. His face was filled with pure joy and you wish that could stay on his face forever, because to you, that’s what he deserves and more.

Not much later present time begins and Peter starts to open up everyone’s gifts. You told him to open yours last. You absolutely adored this boy and your heart swelled up every time he held a genuine smile to his face as he opened his gifts. He got up, thanked and hugged every single person who had got him a gift. You truly are smitten for him.

“Who are all these gifts from?” Peter asks, glancing at the huge piles of gifts left. “I thought I had opened everyone’s except Y/n’s already,” he chuckles. 

“Those are all mine,” you walk over, sitting next to him.

“Oh, flower,” he mutters softly and pouts out his bottom lip. “You didn’t-”

“Ah, please open them and shut your mouth,” you cross your arms. Everyone laughs in amusement at your sass and watches as Peter begins to open up the gifts.

Peter first opens up the comic books and jars filled with little letters, “Oh my god, you didn’t,” he whimpers happily. “This must’ve cost a fortune,” he holds up the comic books.

“What? All I did was write on little pieces of paper and-”

“Babe.”

“I know! I’m joking, on to the next please,” you coo and kiss his cheek. 

He huffs and unravels the next gift, his eyes beginning to glisten with tears. He slowly flips through the pages of the beautiful scrap book you made for him. He comes across a page where it was you, your dad and him in multiple photos. He lets tears slip form his eyes and glances at you with softened eyes, “Y/n,” he mutters.

“Larb you,” you kiss his cheek. He places the scrapbook aside and pulls you into a hug, kissing your forehead.

“I larb you more,” he sighs. 

“I thought that was our thing,” May pouts, causing everyone to chuckle at her comment.

“It can be our thing too,” Peter teases. “Is that all?” he sniffles, glancing back at you.

“One more thing,” you smile cheekily.

“Oh man,” he sighs, placing his forehead on your shoulder. “I don’t know if I can take it.”

“Morgan,” you look up, running your hands through Peter’s curls. She grins and grabs the last small box, bringing it to Peter.

He looks up and smiles, silently thanking her. “You want to help me open it?” he asks her. She nods and sits on his lap, helping him pull away the ribbon. As they both do so, the box falls and reveals the gift your mom once gifted your dad, then to you. Peter covers his mouth, “No, I can’t-”

“Peter,” you shake your head.

He sniffs once again, tears beginning to stream down his cheeks as he glances at the glass case with your dad’s arc reactor inside. He glances down at the words surrounding the arc reactor, “Proof that Tony Stark has a Heart,” he sobs.

You glance up seeing that your mom smiles sadly, wiping away some tears. “Happy birthday,” you repeat, kissing his cheek.

“Why are you giving this to me?” he stammers, hugging Morgan back as she hugs him close, nuzzling her head into his neck.

“Mom, Morgan and I already have many parts of dad with us. You don’t have as much and we all know how much he meant to you. You really are a part of our family too Peter, and I felt like you deserved this. Now you can see that his heart also belongs with you,” you smile warmly, cupping his cheek and wiping his tears away.

Everyone watches the heart-touching moment unravel, a sad yet understanding smile appearing on their faces. “I love you. I love all of you, and you,” he pokes Morgan’s nose, causing her to giggle.

“We love you too Peter,” everyone chimes in.

“I love you more,” you whisper, kissing his nose.

“I love you 3000,” Morgan pouts, playing with his shirt. You and Peter look at each other with sad smiles.

“I love you 3000 too.”

tagging some mutuals who might be interested! @ariistotles @cosmicholland @petersholland @tonguetiedholland @theamazingtomholland @tombrina @spideyyeet @toms-gf @peterspideysstuff @chloecreatesfictions @mcdwcman @hollandsrecs @the-salty-asian @fallinfortom @hermayone @allegra-writes @waitimcomingtoo @futuremrspcy @dreamofaprilsblog @t-lostinmendes @musicalkeys @icyhollands @beverlyparkerr​ @marvelhoesworld​

[lyssismagical]

evermore

Just a Solid Vent Fic 

I wanna do 30 days of Taylor Swift-inspired fics (folklore and evermore) lmao but idk yet we’ll see lemme know tho 

 *

As a compromise for Tony not being able to pay Peter’s tuition to MIT thanks to his full ride, Tony bought an apartment right beside campus for Peter to live in, to ensure no awkward adventures trying to be Spider-Man with a roommate.

Peter’s still adamant about getting a job and paying for his food, phone bill, and any other things like clothing or entertainment.

And balancing classes, patrolling, and a job, isn’t easy, of course. But it’s always been better for him to work hard than to give himself time to think. It’s not like his mental health is on hold, but it’s easier to put it aside when he’s got so much to do all the time.

It doesn’t help that he’s also on the debate team thanks to MJ, and in the robotics club thanks to Ned.

When November rolls around and it brings the final projects, Peter pushes himself to the limit to keep up with everything.

He starts dropping his sleep to only a nap whenever he can squeeze it in, working all afternoon, classes all morning, and Spider-Man all night, and he starts making up excuses for anything that isn’t a number one priority.

He stops seeing his friends, stops calling May back, stops replying to Tony’s worried texts, stops helping out with his professors or the librarian or his classmates. He stops cleaning his apartment, letting dishes pile up on the counters and laundry go unwashed.

It’s bad, and he knows that, rationally and logically, he knows.

But that doesn’t stop him from doing it anyway.

Three weeks, he tells himself.

And he keeps pushing.

MJ shows up at his apartment out of the blue when he’s studying away, and he barely manages to clear the fog in his head to stumble for the door.

“I can’t talk right now,” he says before she can even say hello. “I’ve gotta study for my physics exam.”

“No, you’ve gotta chill the fuck out.”

He shakes his head, leaving the door open as he turns his back and heads into his kitchen for a quick snack so he can get back to his work. “No, I have to study.”

“Oh my god, you live in a garbage dump,” she says, eyes going wide as she takes in the state of his apartment. “When was the last time you washed a dish? Or, gross, your hair?”

He doesn’t bother responding, rolling his eyes and downing a protein bar. “Two weeks, now, and then I’m done for a month.”

“At this rate, I don’t know if you’ll make it through the next two weeks.”

Peter can’t help but roll his eyes again, part of him hating how much he’s lashing out despite wanting help, needing help, but unable to find the strength to stop it from happening as he brushes past her again.

“I know you’re stressed, I know you’re anxious about exams and papers and labs, but, seriously, Peter?” she says, following him to where he’s working in the living room, papers and binders and textbooks strewn across every surface. “You’re a genius, okay? You’ve been getting excellent grades all year. The only reason you might not do well on these projects is because you’re working yourself to death.”

He shakes his head, feeling very suddenly like he might cry. “It’s not that easy. Just… I don’t want to deal with this right now, okay?”

MJ doesn’t take that as a good answer, though, sitting beside him on the old couch. “I know you, okay? I know you better than most people do. I’ve seen you in some of the worst states you’ve been in. I know this. You can’t pretend that this is okay or normal or that this is you doing fine. I don’t believe it for a second.”

He opens his mouth to fight back, to argue, to try to convince her otherwise, or maybe just to kick her out. But he hesitates.

After the Snap’s reversal, she was the one who devoted all her time to taking care of him. He was such a mess of PTSD and depression and emptiness, but she was there. She kept the lights on for him, she brought him food and water, held him after nightmares, talked him down from panic attacks every other day. She was there, despite everything, she was always there.

Tony was too far and he never wanted to bother May, so he regularly would drop by her fire escape where she would patch him up after patrols, and occasionally, let him sleep next to her and make sure to get him to school on time.

She’s always been there.

She’s held him together, kept him sane, helped him through it all.

It wouldn’t be fair to get pissed.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, shoving a hand through his mess of greasy, tangled curls. “I’m such a mess, I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to be a bitch, but I just… I don’t know what I’m doing. I feel like I’m drowning.”

And she nods because she’s always understood, always known what he means. She puts her hand over his. “You deserve a nap. C’mon.”

He goes to shake his head, looking to where his lab is only half-done, he’s only a few chapters into the textbook to get prepared for his exam, rough notes scribbled out for a paper.

“No, c’mon. You’re taking a nice nap. You deserve it,” she repeats, tugging more insistently at his wrist.

But he shakes his head this time, pulling his hand away. “If I stop, I won’t be able to start again.”

“Peter-”

“I’m serious, if I take a nap or a break or take a second to breathe, I will crumble and I won’t be able to put myself back together in time for these due dates. I won’t get back up. I just-” He stops, taking a deep breath and rubbing at his wet eyes. “I need to keep pushing for the next two weeks and then I can fall apart.”

MJ shakes her head, fingers wrapping around his thin wrist. “That’s not healthy. And it certainly wouldn’t be right for me to let you do that.”

“I’ll fail my classes if I don’t do well on these assignments and exams. I need to keep going. I know it’s bad, but if I get into bed, I will fall into a slump and I won’t get anything done.”

Surprising both him and what seems like herself, she nods, holding onto him a little tighter like he’ll disappear before her very eyes. “Fine. But I’m going to stay here with you and make sure you don’t die over the next two weeks, alright? And you have to listen when I tell you to eat or watch stupid reality TV shows with me.”

He hums out an agreement, letting himself slump into her side, eyes focusing in on his mess of homework laid out before him.

“Come on. Step one, is getting you showered and in clean clothes because you smell like you spent the night in a dumpster.”

*

MJ does exactly as she promised she would. She calls it a ‘mental health sleepover’ and they set up camp in the living room.

She calls in sick for him at work for most of the week, telling them that he caught the flu and wouldn’t be back until after his exams, and even then, he’d already booked most of Winter Break off to go home to New York.

There wasn’t much she could do, in all honesty, it wasn’t like she could force him to sleep or take a break without a fight, but she could make him healthy meals and stop him from going out patrolling, which was enough to take a big load off his shoulders.

And she occasionally can convince him to watch those dumb reality TV shows, which occasionally makes him fall asleep on the couch for at least an hour or two.

It helps, of course, but it doesn’t solve any of the problems.

As soon as he’s finished exams, he’s going to drop, he’s going to fall, he’s going to drown, let the waves take him.

And nobody will be able to help him then.

“I booked your flight home,” MJ says over dinner and while he’s finishing up his lab report. “My flight’s a few hours after yours, so I’ll be with you until you board and then the Starks will pick you up.”

“Thanks. I really owe you one,” he says, only half-listening as he starts on his paper.

She grabs him by his shoulder and makes him turn to her laptop screen. “Say yes to the dress time. Your paper can wait a bit.”

“There’s only so much I can procrastinate,” he says but he’s already closing his laptop and tucking himself into her side, and shoulders finally relaxing.

She starts the episode, on a low volume, and presses a quick kiss to his temple.

By the time they’re onto the second episode, Peter’s slurring out his insults to the dresses some of the women pick, making fun of the different styles, and blinking getting longer and longer.

“That neckline?” Peter goes, giggling into MJ’s shoulder. “Especially with those shoes?”

“You’re a bitch.”

“I know, but seriously?” he laughs again, a little window into the person he once was. “I mean the first option wasn’t bad, but the choice of a grey dress in the first place…”

MJ’s voice goes all soft and gentle when she next speaks up, “Come on, go to sleep, you can afford to take a little break.”

And he nods sleepily against her shoulder, tucking himself just a little closer, making himself small against her side. It’s simple, for now.

*

As soon as he’s done his last exam, he can feel the adrenaline wearing off, disappearing from within him, all energy draining from his very veins.

He goes straight home afterwards, ignoring everybody who tries to stop him for a chat. And as soon as he makes it to his apartment, he goes straight to bed, tugging the sheets right over his head.

He shouldn’t do this, he knows. He should call MJ, ask that she drop everything for him again because he can feel himself slipping, but he won’t. He can’t. He doesn’t even know when the last time he saw his phone was, let alone have the effort to leave his blankets and try to find it. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t have it in him to care.

He feels empty and exhausted and strung out. Carved hollow. Putting everything he has into the past few months, he feels like he has nothing left to give.

There’s a knock on his front door, but he doesn’t move.

A few minutes later, his phone rings, somewhere in another part of the apartment. It rings again and again, a symphony for him to pass out to.

*

Time passes strangely when he’s this deep in a depressive episode. He doesn’t know how long he’s been huddled under his blankets, hiding from the world. It could’ve been anywhere between a couple hours and a few days, he doesn’t know.

His phone continues ringing, far away and echoing through his dreams, tears sliding down his cheeks at random intervals, hands trembling where they’re tucked under his chest.

He feels like he’s drifting away, collapsing into himself, fading away into nothingness.

He feels empty, hollow, gone.

He gave everything he had into school and work over the course of four months, and he has nothing left to give anymore. He’s nothing more than an empty well.

And he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to pull himself together, pack, get a flight home, and pretend to be one hundred percent for Morgan.

He’d rather just die here, in this cave he’s built, ghost-like and fading away already, than have to face another soul.

*

When he hears his front door unlocking, he knows he should be worried. Nobody has a spare copy of his key except for Ned, who already went home to New York a few weeks back.

He knows it should be at least a little concerning that somebody is breaking into his apartment, but he can’t find it in him to care. He doesn’t have the energy to move or hide or try to protect himself.

He just curls up a little tighter and hopes that this won’t be his last day.

“Peter?”

He lifts his head, just enough to see over his cave of his blankets.

And standing in his bedroom doorway is Tony.

“Hi,” he breathes, curling up a little tighter, knowing he’s safe.

Tony slips into his room and sits at the end of his bed, one hand on Peter’s ankle. “MJ called when you wouldn’t answer your phone or let her in. She knew something was up.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I saw something like this coming after you finished your senior year and spent two weeks sick and depressed. I thought you’d be home in time before you started feeling so run down, but I guess I was wrong.”

Peter doesn’t know how he’s supposed to respond to that, so instead he lets his head fall into the pillows again.

“I’m not going to make you do anything yet, I think you could use a bit more time here. Though, Morgan thought two days sleeping was plenty, I think another one might do you well. But tomorrow, we’re going to get you fed and showered and your apartment clean, and then this weekend, we’ll get a flight home. Sound good?”

He nods, though he’s pretty sure he would agree to pretty much anything so long as the decisions are taken out of his hands.

“Come here,” Tony murmurs, sliding into the space beside Peter, arms open. Peter finally feels at home when he crawls into the awaiting hug. “MJ mentioned Say Yes to the Dress bingeing, you feel up for making fun of more dress choices?”

Peter laughs half-heartedly against Tony’s chest, tucking himself into him like a child would, and nods, breathing in the soothing scent of motor oil and expensive cologne.

He knows he’ll fall apart again, he knows that it’s not going to be a permanent solution, but the time being, he has Tony’s arms around him, a reality TV show quietly keeping them company, and the relief of having time to feel miserable before he has to pick himself up, it’s enough for now. It’ll be enough.

He’ll be okay with people like Tony and MJ at his side.

He’ll be okay.

Taglist: @littlemissagrafina  @fancyxparker  @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @misskirkstark @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester  @emo-girl10 @justme--emily  @hold-our-destiny @imalivebecauseirondad @spiderman-peterman @dykeragee @maryserrao @heeeyitskay @parknerandirondad @lilacsandlilies4 @loveliestdisappointment @joyful-soul-collector @genderfluid-and-confuzled @fallenstar07 @gyurolls @sdottkrames {Let me know if you wanna be added or removed}

[rochiomaru]

My Brother's Keeper

Things have been going well for the Family at Spider Miles. I continue to make plans to invade underground trades deeper within the Grand Line, the money is pouring in, and I have learned that Dressrosa has become ripe for the Donquixote lineage to return where we belong. I smile whenever I think of this land, as it is mine by right of my birth. 

Those fools at Mariejois thought to take my royalty from me when they cast me from heaven, but my family ruled that land long before the Celestial Dragons became what they are now. Taking back this nation will be the first piece in shoving my bloodline down their fat, self-righteous throats!  Finally, I shall be acknowledged as the king that I was born to be and can stop living in this trash heap. I can begin to provide more for my family and to give them all they deserve! 

A part of me thinks that everything is lies, but I ignore these troubling thoughts. My family loves me and have been here for me since I was ten years old. My brother has come back to me and stands at my right hand. How can it be anything other than perfect? 

It is what I have always dreamed of. And now with Law here, my little family somehow feels complete. Not that I would love the other children less. That is why I gave them devil fruits to make them stronger, just as Trebol did for me. It’s what you do for those you care for. You give them ways to protect themselves and those they love, as well as the power to take revenge on those who hurt them. To make them invincible to the world!

There’s a small feeling of uneasiness in the back of my mind as I think of Trebol. The voices like to mock me, saying that he is using me. However, I know he loves and worships me. Without him, I would have died years ago… Right? I shake my head to clear the unwelcome feeling and refocus my attention on Law. 

I haven’t really seen him around since the other night at dinner. I can feel the frown deepen on my face as I remember the cruel way some of the others treated the boy. I have been gathering devil fruits and either using them, or selling them for a while now, but there is one that I have been unable to reach that would be of great use, I think. 

The Ope Ope no Mi. The power of this fruit would undoubtedly save his life and would allow him to heal others. He was already training to be a doctor with his biological family. Maybe he will allow me to adopt him into my family and continue his education. Once I find that fruit, Law will be unstoppable. He will be my successor. My own son. The smile on my face practically hurts, but I do not remember having been this happy before. Not even before my family broke when we left heaven.

I call for Machvise and Giolla to go and find him for me before going into my room to read. I take off my glasses and drink some wine to try and relax after a long day. I do not even notice the world beginning to fade away when suddenly I am there again. 

I can feel my body struggle against the villagers, but the flames are hot against my skin! The ropes are again digging into my flesh and the blood is pounding in my ears. The pain is so much! Please make it stop! I can sense the arrow loosed towards my brother when the power wrenches from my stomach.

The next thing I know, I am again in my room, covered in sweat, and I can’t breathe. I lean forward, gasping for air, but the tightness in my chest will not relax. I reach for my sunglasses, and though they bring me some relief, the bottle of wine next to them is a welcome sight. I grab the bottle and begin to drink without even bothering to use my glass. Anything to drown the memories and thoughts that come from these nightmares. I don’t even care how I must look right now. For a moment I wonder what it was that brought this on after so many months of being free from this problem.

However, as the world comes back into focus, my attention is taken from my musing and I notice what must have woken me. The transponder snail keeps his incessant ringing until I pick up the receiver. Ah. It seems they have found Law. I throw down the bottle and the sound of breaking glass barely even registers. I will have Baby 5 come clean it up later, as I have far more important things to attend to now.

Once I make my way into one of our common areas, I see that Rosinante is already there. He looks at me and appears to get up to leave. I shake my head at him and smile. “Please stay, brother. I would like you here for this.” 

He nods and pulls out a cigarette. I reach over to light it for him to ensure he does not set himself on fire again. As I watch him take a drag, I smile softly. He is truly my light and the one to save me from myself. We are the same and I know that he will take my pain and save me from these demons that constantly scream in my head. I was so lost before he returned to me. I wonder if he felt lost too?

I am about to tell him my plans for Law, as I want him to understand how important it will be for me to have a son to carry on the Donquixote legacy. I know my brother doesn’t like children, but if he would just give Law a chance, I know he would see the same thing I do! He would see the same piece in him that is in us. The same pain, the same potential, the same power…

I go to say something to my brother when there is movement at the door and my family has returned with Law carried between them. He looks angry, but that is nothing new. I smile at the boy and watch as they tossed him to the ground. I glared at the two of them and let a piece of my haki catch their attention. Apparently, they did not understand my intentions the other night at dinner. Well, at least after this moment, Law’s place here will be undeniably clear.

“Law, I called you in for just one thing. I’ve decided to welcome you to the Donquixote family officially.” I sat back and genuinely enjoyed watching Law’s mouth drop open in shock. I’m not sure why he thought he had been summoned before me, but I know he did not expect this. I was expecting some push back from my family, but fortunately they seemed to be happy for the boy and are congratulating him.

I feel like I should explain myself to him. He is, after all, going to be my son in all but blood. “Because you went through such a horrible experience, you got that incomparable hateful look in your eyes.” I look into his eyes. “You have the quality.”

Giolla puts her hand on his head and begins fawning over the boy while going on about my “vision”, but he seems to reject her assessment, bringing up his illness. The voices are clamoring within my mind, but I don’t care because this is such a happy day for me! I’m going to have a son and I will raise and protect him. I will give him a place in ten years as my legacy to the world, so how would I ever let him die?

I begin to laugh and tell him it depends on his luck, though I know it has nothing to do at all with luck. He was destined to become the son of a god. I have the blood of celestial dragons in me, whether the fools at Mariejois were willing to let me and my brother back into heaven or not. The voices and that power are swelling inside my core and I am beginning to become overwhelmed in it all.

I told Law about the devil fruits and that there are types that could heal him, though I did not mention the exact one I have in mind for him. That will come for later. I also told him that in ten years I want him for my second in command. I know that the boy is still skittish and very prideful. I want him to build bonds with me and the other family members before I push him too fast. I’ve already given him a lot of information, so I will see if he will grasp the opportunity presented to him.

At that moment Rosinante begins to cough and my attention is taken away from Law. As I look towards my brother, I suddenly feel like all the air has been sucked from my lungs and the smile is wiped from my face. I force myself to stay calm as I see blood covering Rosi’s side. 

For the slightest of moments, even the voices have gone completely silent and everything is numb inside at the sight of his shirt soaked in dark red liquid, though he appears to be trying to hide the spot beneath his hand. In the back of my mind, the only thought I can form is that the villagers got my brother with their arrows. My brother is going to die!

At that thought, a hurricane unleashes inside me and the demons begin to howl and rage! Who would dare to harm my precious baby brother? Do they not realize that he is descended from gods? I fight back the swarming madness and keep my face calm, but my fists clench from the efforts and my frown deepens. When I ask Rosi what happened, I am surprised to hear how controlled my voice sounds.

He writes a note to say that an enemy has done this to him, but it does nothing to quell the tempest that is beginning to storm within me. I can feel the violence within me increasing as I picture the vengeance I plan on taking on whoever did this to my brother. I will make an example of them that the whole world will know to not fuck with my family! 

I ask if he took care of them, just to try and get more information from him. I don’t understand why he didn’t say anything to me in the first place. Perhaps when he sees how I rip this enemy to shreds with my strings, and pull the flesh from their bones slowly while they bleed out and scream for hours, he will then understand how much I love him? I would do anything to keep him safe and punish anyone that would dare harm him! He can trust me to save him, just as he’s saving me. We are family, and that's what you do!

He answers me by writing that he finished the enemy off. The pressure on my heart relaxes and I calm the thoughts that torment me, but the wound still bothers me. I can’t lose my brother. “That’s good. Get it treated, okay?” is all I trust myself to say at that moment.

I reach over to pat Rosi on the shoulder and look once more at Law. He looks like he’s in shock, perhaps at my offer to raise him to be my heir? This makes my heart swell with pride, but I can’t deal with my brother’s pain at this moment and don’t dwell on it long. I can feel myself begin to slip into the darkness again and need to go out for some air. I ask Giolla to get medical attention for my brother as I pass her on my way out, and she responds she will get someone right away. I thank her and move on quickly past the others.

As I move to one of my favorite spots to sit on the rails outside of the buildings, I watch the waves crash against the garbage on the shores and try to breathe. I know that my brother can take care of himself, but when I look at him, I see my moth… I see her and I just want to protect him with everything I have. I lost him once and will not lose him again!

The voices began to scream again that he was lying to me and wanted me dead, but I pushed them aside and continued to watch the waves. I know my brother loves me. He is my heart and my salvation. One day, I know we are going to rule the world together.

[accioromione]

The Proposal

Ron’s heart was pounding. He was holding Hermione’s hand and was praying that she hadn't noticed just how clammy he was. Today was going to be the day he proposed to the girl he loved. 

He had bought the ring two months ago, he had saved for it for five months, he knew Hermione didn’t care about how much the ring cost, but he did. He wanted to show her that he could give her the best, and that he could be the best, because she deserved the best. Ron wasn't particularly shy with being romantic, ever since they had gotten together he rather enjoyed taking her on spontaneous dates, or doing relationship like things. It was never too much because they were such good friends, that was the beauty of their relationship. They could be sappy and mushy one moment and have a light hearted or serious conversation the next. 

He had told her that he wanted to go on a night stroll along the beach. Little did Hermione know what he had in store for her. He had set up balls lights around the beach, along with little notes that left a trail, the ending of these notes led the the destination of her proposal. 

‘This is nice, it’s so beauiful outside too’ said Hermione resting her head on Ron’s shoulder. 

Ron took in the sweet scent of her hair, and looked at the night’s sky. Hermione was right, not a cloud was in sight, the dark sky was covered with stars and the crescent moon shined bright. A light breeze touched Ron’s face and the North Sea made a soothing sound as its waves moved in a synchronized motions. Ron took the good weather as a good omen that tonight was indeed the right night, he smiled to himself as he thought not how Hermione would reprimand him about believing in good omens. 

‘It is nice, so rare to not see clouds,’ Ron noted in regard to the clear sky. They kept walking and Ron took a deep breath, with a few more steps they would reach the balls of light. 

‘Oh wow,’ Hermione sighed as they saw balls of light floating in the sky. This was it, there was no going back now. Ron took his hand from hers, and she looked at him, the light reflected in her eyes. 

‘Ron, did you-?’ She asked looking again at the lights floating around, Ron smiled at her. 

‘Don’t forget to look down too,’ Ron said, as Hermione admired the beauty of the lights floating. 

‘Look down?’ Hermione asked, pointing her head towards the floor, and when she did, her eyes came into contact with the rose petals, 

‘Oh Ron-’ sighed Hermione, ‘what’s this?’ She asked bending down to pick up a glowing envolope on the floor, she looked ahead and saw there were more envelopes trailing ahead. 

She opened the envelope and it produced an image in the sky, 

‘Ron wow’ she sighed, looking admiringly as the jet of light shot from he envelope, the image it produced in the sky was a moving image, it first showed he Hogwarts Express, then a club , then a book that said “Nicolas Flamel” on the cover page, then a chess piece, and then a potions set, it lightly faded in the night sky.   

‘Hermione,’ Ron began, now taking her hand to guide her to the next envelope, ‘we have gone through so much together, I’m pretty sure we’re the only people in the world who can say our friendship was thanks to a troll attack.’ 

Hermione laughed, a tear now rolling down her cheek. 

‘Ever since then we’ve been inseparable, going on adventures, defeating dark wizards since the age of 11.’ Ron said, slowly guiding her to the next envelope. They reached the second envelope and it opened, causing another jet of light to stream into the night sky. 

This time the first image that appeared was polyjuice potion, and then the forbidden forrest,  snake, and then a picture of Ron and Hermione in their second year. 

‘When I was 12- I thought I almost lost you, the thought of it was unbearable even then. I thought I my fear of spiders could not be overridden, but my fear of losing you did. From that moment on I knew that you were a special and a vital component in my life and happiness.’ 

Hermione’s tears glistened down her cheeks and Ron now had a tear rolling down from his right eye, he guided her to the next envelope and she numbly followed. Hands trembling she opened it, and another beam of light shot into the night sky, this time the first image that appeared was Crookshanks, and the second image was a time turner and the third image was Ron and Hermione in hogsmeade for the first time. 

‘Our third year was eventful to say the least. We fought about our pets. Mine turned out to be an evil human. The prisoner who escaped Azkaban turned out to be Harry’s godfather, you could time travel, and dementors were all over the place,’ Hermione laughed. 

‘But all I know is that despite all that, when I look at third year- and when I think of a happy memory, it’s me going on that Hogsmeade trip with you.’ Hermione smiled, tears flowing down her face. Ron gently took her hand once more and guided her to the next envelope, she opened it and with a burst of light new images formed in the sky. The first image was the Triwizard cup, the second image was The Great Hall decorated how it had been for the Yule Ball and the third image was Ron and Hermione at the quidditch World Cup. 

‘When I was 14, I experienced jealousy for the first time. I had known you were beautiful, so it did not phase me when I saw you walk down those stairs looking like a princess- I was angry, because I wanted to be by your side,  I wanted to hold your hand, I wanted to dance with you.’ Ron said, and he squeezed her hand. 

‘I was stupid, we can both agree on that,’ said Ron and Hermione smiled and nodded her head, ‘but I was also a bloke who had realized he had fell for his best friend,’ Ron added as he wiped a tear off of Hermione’s cheek. He gently guided her to the next envelope. 

The pictures that erupted was one of Ron and Hermione at grimmauld place, Ginny, Fred, George, and Harry were also in the picture, but Ron and Hermione were sitting right beside each-other. Then a quidditch pitch appeared, then a picture of Dumbledore’s Army, and then a picture of the Ministry of Magic. 

‘By the time I was 15 I had accepted my feelings for you, every time I spent with you I cherished. The moment you kissed me on the cheek, I felt like it was on fire, I felt pathetic. I was head over heels for you Hermione. And then it was getting dark, and we had to start fighting, and we both got hurt, but we both had each-other. Although I was sad you got injured, I just remember being so happy you were okay and it was you by my side at the hospital bed.’ He said as he guided her to the next envelope. 

She opened it and this jet of light produced three images. The first one was a bird, the second one was a box of chocolates and the third one was Dumbledore. 

‘Jealousy got ahold of me when I was 16 again, I was head over heels for you, and I felt like it was over, that you could never love me. That I was never going to be good enough for you. I thought I lost  you, but then I got poisoned, and you were there, by my side, yet again. And I just remember feeling lucky and grateful that I had been poisoned, because it had brought you back. And then the reality of what was happening was all becoming real, and we knew a war was coming. I remember when we were fighting those death-eaters, all I could think was, don’t hurt her.’ Ron grabbed her hand and guided her to the next envelope, no other envelopes laid ahead of it, this was the last one. Compleley in tears, Hermione picked up to open it, and the jet of light shot out, brighter than the previous ones. The first one was a picture of them dancing at Bill and Fleur’s wedding, the second one was the deluminator, the third one Shell Cottage, the fourth one Hogwarts. Then the light faded, but instead of dissapearing completely the last bit of light burst in a fire work and a variety of pictures erupted, all much more recent ones. A picture of Ron and Hermione in hogsmeade again, when he had visited Hermione when she’d returned to Hogwarts, a picture of Ron and Hermione at the burrow, Ron and Hermione last Christmas, Ron and Hermione playing with Teddy, Ron and Hermione building a snowman, Ron and Hermione with Harry and Ginny, and then a ring. 

After the ring appeared the light erupted in fireworks and Ron got down on one knee. 

Hermione was in tears, her hand covering her mouth. 

‘I knew I loved you when I was 17. The thought of losing you, of anyone hurting you, it was unbearable. The moment I left I was sick to my stomach, but the ball of light, it went to my heart to lead me back straight to you.’ He indicated towards the balls of light that surrounded them, ‘You are the love of my life Hermione, I knew I could fight a war, I knew I could battle dark wizards, I knew I could get tortured, and I knew I was willing to die. But not for a moment, was I ever willing to lose you. You have been my comfort, my friend, my everything. I love everything about you Hermione Granger, your beauty, your intelligence, your kindness and your passion. I love the memories we made, and all I want to do is make more. So in saying that ’ Ron said, taking a velvet box from his pocket 

‘Hermione Jean Granger, will you marry me?’ 

Hermione was crying. She removed her trembling hands from her mouth, and whispered, ‘yes,’ 

‘Brilliant,’ Ron said, grinning with a tear in his eye. He put the ring on her shaking hand and stood up, the moment he did Hermione pulled him down into a deep kiss, he could feel the wetness of her tears on his cheeks. 

‘I can't believe it!’ She squealed when they broke apart, ‘we’re getting married!’ she was smiling so radiantly, and the thought made Ron smile too. This was it, Hermione was his bride-to-be. They had both gone through so much together and now they would be living the rest of their lives together, as husband and as wife. The thought gave Ron a jolt in his stomach, and he leaned down to kiss his fiancee once more. 

[the-marvel-ous-hobbit]

To Slay a Dragon: Ch. 4

Summary: Radagast and Wargs.

Word Count: ~5300

part three || part five

Morning sunlight aggravates the pounding behind my eyes as I stare at the leafy canopy above the trolls’ campsite. The glare holds me captive as effectively as the burlap encasing my body. Each breath draws the smell of rich, damp earth into my nose. Garbled voices drift past my head, mingling with the birdsong. It might almost be peaceful, if it weren’t for the agony radiating from my shattered ribs.

I still can’t believe we made it through the night unscathed, broken ribs aside. I should be grateful the trolls in this land are as stupid as they are ugly. If it had been three of Skyrim’s trolls, we wouldn’t have been so lucky—especially with Kili throwing himself blade-first into a fight without a second’s thought. Idiot. I should be angry with him—the fire devouring my chest is basically his fault—but the relief at seeing the sun rise drowns out any sense of ill-will.

A vision of wide green eyes flashes in my mind, reminding me of the reason I jumped into that troll’s path. I’ve never reacted like that to save anyone before—instinctively, without a shred of rational thought. A sure-fire way to get yourself killed—or, in my case, seriously injured. But if I hadn’t, if Bilbo had been on the receiving end of the blow that knocked me flat, would we have survived the night at all?

I let out a slow breath through my nose, wincing and struggling to believe I just watched the same Hobbit who was scared to leave his armchair stand up to three fully grown trolls with barely a quiver. He saved my life.

Maybe Gandalf is onto something after all. Perhaps there’s no need for me to leap to Bilbo’s rescue. But something within me seems determined to protect him. If I were to give any thought to it, I might say it’s because I’m trying to make up for something.

I cram that thought back into its box and firmly jam on the lid. Not today.

“Hello?” A curly-haired silhouette blocks the glare from the sun. I blink, forcing my vision to focus. “Are you alright?”

Bilbo’s question fans the fire in my chest. Metallic warmth floods my mouth as I clamp my teeth down on a whimper. I have to get something to fix my ribs before I pass out. I squint at Bilbo, at his mussed hair and concerned eyes, teeth gritted against the pain. There’s no way I can even stand in my condition, let alone walk to get my pack. But the thought of someone else touching my possessions feels like a hand squeezing my insides.

Don’t be so stubborn.

The voice is as familiar as my own, and my heart aches to hear it, even if it’s inside my own mind. I can picture the exact expression on his face as he says it—the long-suffering exasperation on his hardened features contradicting the endless patience in his soft eyes. I swallow thickly and force myself to speak.  

“I need—can you bring my bag?” The words climb up my throat, emerging in a hoarse whisper.

Bilbo’s brows knit, then he nods and disappears from view. I let my head drop back amongst the leaves and close my eyes, praying Bilbo doesn’t possess any tendencies to snoop. I doubt he would understand half of the things I carry with me, but they’re all I have in the world, and I’m not very good at sharing.

Snatches of conversation reach my ears across the campsite—the Dwarves discuss the night’s events in breathless, excited tones punctuated with bursts of raucous laughter. Their familiar noise is a welcome distraction from my laboured breathing and the bile rising in my throat.

Bilbo reappears, clutching my pack between his small hands. It’s half as tall as he is, and the breath whooshes out of him as he sets it on the ground beside me. Before I can fully register the next problem, he ducks his head and reaches to untie the sack. Even after weeks on the road, he still smells vaguely of lavender and sweet tea underneath the dirt and sweat. He fumbles a little with the knots, tongue poking between his teeth. His breath is warm on my neck, chasing spiders down my back. My fingers curl around an invisible blade.

I close my eyes and force my breaths to slow. This is Bilbo—he’s half my size and unarmed. Never mind that, he saved my life not an hour ago. Why would he go to the trouble only to pull a blade on me? The idea of him wielding a blade is almost laughable—this sweet, innocent creature doesn’t have a violent bone in his body.

But he’s not innocent. No one is.

A twig snaps. Opening my eyes, I see Bilbo standing several feet away, hands folded behind his back. He doesn’t meet my eyes, gazing off towards where a few of the Dwarves are wrestling in the dirt. The vice around my chest eases, but only slightly.

I struggle to sit up, my ribs barking their protest. I could just ask him to get what I need from my bag, but I’ve already defied my instincts one too many times today. A face flashes before my eyes—a certain red-headed Nord who would repeatedly test my skill and patience by seeing how easily he could filch my possessions, and grin widely at my frustration when I failed to conceal them properly.

The lump in my throat returns, thick enough to choke on.

After a bit of fumbling, and with my teeth clenched hard enough to hurt, I manage to retrieve my prize. The glass vial is about the size of my pinky and contains a deep red liquid. I yank out the cork and drain the liquid in one swallow. The potion burns down my parched throat, hits my sternum and blooms outwards like a mushroom cloud. Bones shift and crack, knitting together behind a fresh surge of agony. A whimper escapes through my teeth, and the pain subsides. Cool air fills my lungs, and they expand joyfully inside my newly-healed ribcage.

Bilbo’s wide eyes dart between my face and the empty vial. “What was that?”

“It’s medicine.” I kick the sack off my legs and wiggle my toes inside my boots, flinching as blood surges to the deprived muscles. “Of sorts.” Bilbo’s eyes shine with more questions, but he looks away, fiddling with one of the shiny gold buttons on his waistcoat.

With the pain finally gone, my gaze drifts to the three large figures across the campsite. Gandalf is busy examining the statues—he raps one smartly with his staff like a schoolteacher disciplining a student with his cane. The troll’s stone eyes stare off into the trees, forever oblivious. The dagger still wedged in its thigh glitters like a ruby encased in a halo of sunlight.

Leaving Bilbo and his questions behind, I roll to my feet and cross the glade to retrieve what’s mine. The Blade slides from the stone with no resistance, returning to my hand like a loyal pet. As its familiar weight settles in my palm, something else previously absent slots back into place in my chest.

Footsteps approach through the bracken a few feet from me. The slow, deliberate steps can only belong to one person. I duck behind the statue as Thorin emerges from the trees and strolls towards Gandalf. Though he’s half the Wizard’s height, he does his best to look down his nose at him.

“Where did you go to, if I may ask?”

“To look ahead.”

“And what brought you back?”

“Looking behind.”

I swear if I roll my eyes any harder they’re going to get stuck. Maybe Gandalf deserves some credit for saving our hides, but it’s also very possible this entire thing was somehow his fault. Thorin gives a barely perceptible nod of thanks, despite the tightness around his eyes that echoes my sentiments.

“Nasty business,” Gandalf mutters, glancing up at Lazy Eye. “Still, they’re all in one piece.”

Thorin doesn’t miss a beat. “No thanks to your burglar.”

Gandalf raises his chin. “He had the nous to play for time. None of the rest of you thought of that.”

Thorin looks sheepish for all of half a second before he sighs through his nose. “And what of the Elf? For a supposed dragon-slayer, she wasn’t any help at all. She almost got Kili killed.”

My breath freezes in my throat, my fingers digging into the statue beside me hard enough to hurt. Gandalf holds Thorin’s gaze, their expressions a perfect contrast. Thorin’s thick brows form a harsh ‘V’ over his eyes, his chest rises and falls a little too rapidly.

“I made my reservations regarding her clear from the beginning,” Thorin growls. Each word is like a fist driving into my gut. “If any of my kin are harmed because of her—”

“Our agreement still holds.” Gandalf’s voice is perfectly flat, mirroring his placid expression. “You may seek retribution as you see fit, as promised.”

Thorin nods his assent, and the conversation moves on. My pulse pounds behind my eyes. The Night Mother’s breathy whisper hisses inside my mind, repeating the words of the contract she burdened me with over a year ago. The Blade twitches in my hand, yearning for blood.

Why did I let him live?

With some effort, I shove the Blade into its sheath at my waist and stagger across the clearing on heavy legs. Curious eyes drill holes in my back, but I keep my gaze fixed on my feet. Crouching by my bag, I dig through the contents, hyper-aware of the steel pressed against my thigh.

It shouldn’t bother me, knowing that Gandalf and Thorin have an agreement about my death, as though they both expect me to betray them. At one time, I might have applauded their foresight. But after all the effort I’ve made to repress my assassins’ instincts—the same ones drilled into me by the very person who haunts my every step—I ought to be granted some kind of reprieve. I thought I’d left the distrustful glares and concealed blades on Skyrim’s grey shores. How naïve I was.

Curling my shaking hands into fists, I force a lungful of air in through my nose, hold it, and slowly release, my eyes shut tight. With each slow breath, the heat gradually subsides.

His approach is silent, but I sense Bilbo’s presence before he speaks. He hovers behind the pale curtain of mud-smeared hair brushing my shoulder—I tuck it behind my ear and turn to look at him. The gold buttons on his waistcoat gleam as he bounces on his toes.

“I wanted to thank you,” he says.

I blink at him. “Why?”

His nose twitches like a rabbit’s. “I saw you save my life. I may not have much experience with adventures or fights, but I do know a thing or two about manners.”

With my hands tucked inside my pack, I slowly uncurl my fingers. “You saved my life too. We’re square.”

A tentative smile brightens his face, and he offers me a slight bow. Against my better judgement, I smile back. He strolls over to join the Dwarves—they’re getting ready to move off. Upon reaching them, he turns and waves at me, beckoning. I nod, motioning for him to go on without me. My eyes dart to the troll statues. Thorin and Gandalf are nowhere in sight.

I inhale one final time and push to my feet, swinging my pack onto one shoulder and my hunting bow onto the other. My fingers brush the hilt of the Blade, and something inside me stirs, sending a thrill through my fingertips. Perhaps I will fulfil my contract after all.  

*

The trolls’ cave is located further into the trees, and is easy enough to find. The stench is ungodly—even standing outside the entrance, it’s enough to make my head swim. Gandalf leads Thorin and a few of the others down into the darkness, whilst the less foolhardy among the company remain out in the fresh air, taking stock of our situation and the gear we left back at the farmhouse.

I don’t feel much like talking to anyone—my thoughts are muddied by lack of sleep and snippets of the exchange I overheard between Gandalf and Thorin. I feel Bilbo’s eyes land on me repeatedly as we wait for the others to return, but I don’t dare to look at him. I don’t trust myself to control my expression, and if Bilbo finds out about my decision, he’ll go running straight to Gandalf. Wizards are far too unpredictable to engage in a fight. It’s just common sense to avoid confrontation with people who can bend the laws of nature to their will. The only thing to do now is pray for a quiet day of travel once we’re finished here.

“Bilbo.”

As if on cue, Gandalf looms out of nowhere like a wraith. I roll to my feet, alarmed at his silent approach, but he doesn’t even glance at me. He’s gazing down at Bilbo with a strange intensity, holding a sheathed dagger in one bony-fingered hand.

“Here. This is about your size.”

Bilbo stares at the blade like it might bite him, but eventually takes it. In his small hands, it’s about the size of a sword.

“I can’t take this.” Bilbo’s voice is a breathy whisper as he holds the dagger back towards Gandalf. The Wizard fixes him with a look that immediately ceases his uncomfortable shuffling.

“The blade is of Elvish make, which means it will glow blue when Orcs or Goblins are nearby.”

Bilbo’s eyes widen, as though Gandalf is trying to gift him a live snake instead of a magic Elvish dagger. “I have never used a sword in my life.”

“And I hope you never have to.” The Wizard echoes my thoughts, low and sincere. “But if you do, remember this: true courage is about knowing not when to take a life, but when to spare one.”

A cold sensation spreads through my gut. I turn away before my face can betray me. If the Wizard can read minds, I’m done for. I suck in a breath, forcefully shoving my fantasies of murder into some deep, hidden recess of my brain. Gandalf’s attention doesn’t stray from Bilbo, but I won’t be fooled.

I pause, lifting my head to examine the forest. The trolls’ cave is enclosed by a circular wall of rocky slopes, with only one way in and out. It’s actually a pretty smart place to hide a treasure hoard. Upon first arriving, I scanned the surroundings for potential threats, and was satisfied nothing was waiting to ambush us. Now, a rhythmic pounding that can only be footsteps approaches from beyond the safety of the rocks and trees, heading in our direction.

“Something’s coming!”

Thorin’s yell bounces off the trees, and the Dwarves swarm like agitated bees, readying weapons and moving into defensive positions. Bilbo stands frozen, clutching his new dagger with white knuckles.

“Stay together!” Gandalf draws a blade from inside his robes and strides towards the Dwarves, leaving Bilbo and me alone.

Bilbo turns away from the chaos and gingerly draws the dagger from its sheath. It’s simple but beautifully made—the blade elegantly curved and engraved with delicate designs. The hilt fits perfectly in his hand.

Just like that, the only harmless member of the company is equipped to kill.

Before I can get caught up in the opposing emotions, I cross to his side and we hurry towards the others. Branches crackle and snap in the distance, growing louder at an alarming rate. Footsteps pound the earth, too numerous to count.

Something big bursts out of the undergrowth mere feet from our defensive circle. It skids to a stop in a spray of leaves and dirt. I blink once, twice, a third time. For a moment I think I’ve inhaled Gandalf’s secondhand pipe smoke, because what I’m seeing cannot possibly be real.

“Thieves! Fire! Murder!”

What fresh lunacy is this?

“Radagast!” Gandalf lowers his sword, a smile lighting his bearded face. “It’s Radagast the Brown!”

Wonderful.

*

Radagast the Brown presents a bizarre picture, even by the standards I’m accustomed to. He’s both similar to Gandalf—tangled grey beard, scruffy, mismatched brown clothes, massive brown hat, mage’s staff—and wildly different—Radagast is several inches shorter, somehow even more deranged looking, and has bird shit in his hair. As the two of them converse in barely-audible murmurs, I swear his hat moves. A quick glance around at the Dwarves’ expressions—which range from curiosity to fascination to poorly-disguised disgust—confirm I’m still not hallucinating. I might almost feel better if I were actually going mad.

As the two Wizards wander out of earshot to continue their conversation, movement catches my eye. My gaze is met by eight pairs of liquid black eyes belonging to the large brown rabbits tethered to the sled Radagast crashed in on. The biggest one regards me with a tilted head and twitching whiskers, each of us unsure what to make of the other. I wait for it to open its mouth and speak. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if it began reciting poetry.

Across the clearing, Radagast is speaking rapidly, gesturing wildly with his hands and Gandalf has become a silent grey statue. I catch snatches of words I don’t fully understand—‘Dol Guldur’, ‘Necromancer’, something about giant spiders and spirits of the dead. Bilbo sits beside me and peers into my face, eyebrows knitted. The air practically vibrates with unasked questions.

Radagast concludes his tale, visibly trembling and clutching his staff so tight it’s in danger of splintering. Gandalf reanimates, offering a pull on his pipe. Radagast instantly relaxes as a puff of herbal smoke wafts around his head. Gandalf leans closer to him, and Radagast fumbles beneath his filthy coat, producing an object wrapped in brown cloth.

The temperature plummets as Gandalf unwraps the sword. Bilbo goes tense beside me, and the Dwarves’ quiet chatter falls silent. A palpable sense of wrongness pervades the clearing, turning my blood to ice in my veins.

“That is not from the world of the living.”

The words settle around my shoulders like a heavy cloak. I’ve had dealings with creatures beyond the mortal realm—those experiences are scorched into my memory, and I’d rather not repeat them, thanks ever so.

Gandalf’s frown deepens as he examines the thorn-like blade, but he rewraps it after a couple of heartbeats. The dread dissolves and my breaths come easier, but the warmth fails to return to my body.

A low, chilling howl cuts through the silence.

“Was that a wolf?” Bilbo’s eyes dart between the Wizards and the trees. “Are there wolves out there?”

“Wolves? No, that is not a wolf.”

Am I to infer from your tone it’s something much worse? Excellent.

An enormous, four-legged shape crests the rocky slope behind Bilbo. The creature is easily three times the size of a wolf. Its yellow eyes regard us for a moment, saliva dripping from bared fangs as long and sharp as the Blade in my hand. A growl rumbles up its throat, and it leaps. Thorin’s blade slices into the back of its skull, but not before it takes down an unfortunate Dwarf with its massive front paws. A second beast appears atop the rocks behind Thorin, and an arrow zips past my ear, thudding into its shoulder. Knocked off balance, it tumbles down the slope and is met by a mighty swing from Dwalin’s hammer.

“Warg scouts!” Thorin yanks his blade from the twitching body. “Which means an Orc pack is not far behind.”

“Orc pack?” Bilbo’s voice echoes my own disbelief. How did I not notice a pack of Orcs on our tail?

Gandalf advances on Thorin, face like thunder. “Who did you tell about your quest, beyond your kin?”

“No one.”

“Who did you tell?!”

“No one, I swear!” Thorin’s eyes dart to me, then back to Gandalf. “What in Durin’s name is going on?”

“You are being hunted.”

Brilliant.

“We have to get out of here.” Dwalin’s gruff voice is tinged with fear, his tattooed, knuckle-dusted fingers tightening around the handle of his hammer.

“We can’t, we have no ponies!” Ori skids down over the rocks behind us, Bifur on his heels. “They bolted!”

Another spine-chilling howl echoes in the distance. The Dwarves glance at each other, gripping their weapons tighter. Bilbo’s eyes are wide and frightened in his pale face. I hope Shadowmere has found somewhere safe to hide—he’d never abandon me, but he’s also not stupid enough to take on an entire pack of Orcs.

“I’ll draw them off.”

I turn to gape at Radagast, at the fierce determination blazing in his eyes and the bird shit caking his hair. Are all Wizards in Middle-earth completely insane?

“These are Gundabad Wargs,” Gandalf protests. “They will outrun you!”

“These are Rhosgobel rabbits!” Radagast’s tone is utterly serious, and his eyes gleam beneath his ridiculous hat. “I’d like to see them try.”

I need a lie down.

*

Radagast might be a complete lunatic, but those rabbits of his can really run.

Beyond the trees, an area of open grassland littered with enormous, jagged boulders and smatterings of tall pines extends for several miles in every direction. Crouched behind one of these boulders, the company and I watch Radagast careen recklessly across the plain, a dozen Orcs on his tail. I can’t decide whether to stare at the bundles of furry lightning pulling the sled, or the pack of baying Wargs with Orcs astride them like horses. The sight is equally horrifying and morbidly amusing.

“Come on!”

Gandalf’s yell draws us away from the safety of the treeline and out onto the open, where Thorin quickly takes the lead. Ducking behind boulders and weaving up and down hills, we work our way across the plain as fast as the  Dwarves’ short strides will allow, accompanied by a distant chorus of barks and whoops.

At least one of us is having fun.

Several times during our flight, the Orcs cross directly in front of us, though always at a safe enough distance that we don’t draw their attention away from the Wizard and his rabbits. Each time, Gandalf ushers us in a new direction with only a brief pause. At first, the zigzagging back and forth seemed nonsensical and fuelled purely by fear, but there’s a deliberateness to it. Clearly he has a plan, but I’m not sure whether to be relieved or nervous.

We scramble over more boulders, and Radagast’s sled cuts in front of us again, the Orcs even closer on his heels.

But something’s wrong. There’s one missing.

Thorin ducks behind another boulder, and the rest of us pile in after him. Beneath the Dwarves’ panting, I hear snuffling, low growling and claws clicking on stone above us. Craning my neck, I catch a glimpse of matted brown fur and glistening teeth—one of the Wargs is pacing around on top of the boulder. It’s so close I can smell the musky, wet-dog stink of its fur and the rotten stench wafting off its rider.

Further down the line, Thorin nods at the bow in Kili’s grip. Kili’s eyes bug, but he slowly draws an arrow from his quiver. In a burst of movement, he leaps away from the rock, twists and shoots. A snarl, and the Warg lands almost on top of us, half-crushing its rider beneath its bulk. The Dwarves ready their weapons, and the wounded Orc meets the business end Dwalin’s hammer. The others launch into the fray, hacking and smashing with no finesse whatsoever. Bilbo remains by my side, his blade quivering. Howls and screams echo across the plain, deafening and endless.

The Orcs charge straight for us.

“Move!” Gandalf yells. “Run!”

The adrenaline sizzling in my blood urges me faster, despite the burn in my legs reminding me I’m exhausted and out of shape. Small rocks and grassy knots threaten to snap our ankles with every step, but there’s no time to pay any attention to my feet. The Wargs are unbelievably fast and show no signs of slowing.

I lose track of how long we spend running to and fro across the cursed plain, screeching to a halt and abruptly changing direction every time a Warg blocks our path. If the landscape were flat, we would have been run down several times over. Still, the Dwarves’ short strides are no match for the Wargs’ loping gait. Though their speed and stamina is impressive, it’s not enough to outrun our pursuers.

“We’re surrounded!” Fili crashes through the grass as two Wargs crest the hill behind him. There’s at least one in every other direction—they seem to rise from the earth itself, forming a loose circle around us. They’re too far away to attack, but close enough to prevent us making a run for it. Desperate faces cast about every which way, searching in vain for an opening.

“Here!” I usher Bilbo towards another rock—our only salvation in an otherwise open and vulnerable position. The others hurry towards us as the Wargs stalk closer.

“Where’s Gandalf?”

“He’s abandoned us!”

Impossible. He was here a moment ago, and there’s nowhere to hide, and no way he could have slipped through the circle of Wargs. He’s simply vanished.

Looks like here is where we make our final stand.

“Hold your ground!”

The least I can hope for is getting to watch Thorin get eaten.

Gandalf’s voice rings out behind me. “This way, you fools!”

That’s just rude.

Unseen by everyone except Gandalf, the ground beneath the rock opens up to reveal a tunnel, presenting us with an underground escape route. I can’t see what’s at the bottom, but whatever it is can’t be much worse than a dozen ravenous Wargs.

Thorin hops up onto a rock near the entrance and ushers the Dwarves inside. A Warg breaks formation to lunge at him, but is cut down by an Elvish blade wielded with deadly skill. A growl ripples through the enemies’ ranks, and they close in faster. Below, I can vaguely hear Gandalf counting the Dwarves as they slide into the tunnel.

“Five… six…”

I turn to look behind me. Kili’s dark hair whips in the breeze as he launches to arrow after arrow towards the Wargs and their riders. Some hit their mark, others lodge harmlessly in the ground. His rhythm is slowing. The nearest Orc sneers at him. I yank the bow from my back and unleash an arrow. Kili shoots me a startled look, but grins and swiftly nocks another arrow. The bow hums in my hands. My arms burn with the effort, but still the Orcs keep coming.

“Kili!”

My shout is echoed by Thorin’s, and we bolt for the tunnel. I shove Kili ahead of me, hot breath on my neck and the stink of must and rot in my nose. Kili disappears, followed closely by his brother and Thorin. I barely have time to slow before the ground dips sharply. My knees and shins bark as I land awkwardly in the dirt. I lie there, winded and unable to move, staring up at the roof of the small cavern and waiting for the Orcs to follow.

The sharp blast of a hunting horn is the last sound I expect to hear. Dust rains down, dislodged by thundering hooves above. Arrows zip through the air and thud into flesh, drawing screams from the wounded and dying.

Something heavy tumbles down the slope, sending up a cloud of dust. Weapons clatter as the Dwarves jump to attention, but they’re threatening a corpse. Thorin bends to retrieve the arrow lodged between the dead Orc’s eyes. His face twists into a scowl.

“Elves.”

I barely manage not to roll my eyes at his tone as I pick myself up off the ground and dust off my trousers. Something twinges in my knee—an old wound that never healed properly—but a quick inspection confirms no new injuries. I glance at Bilbo—he’s pale and trembling, but otherwise unharmed.

In the ensuing silence, Dwalin’s gruff voice echoes from the back of the cavern. “I cannot see where the pathway leads! Do we follow it or no?”

“Follow it, of course!”

As the Dwarves move off, Gandalf murmurs, “I think that would be wise.”

I’m almost too tired to wonder what he’s scheming at.

The tunnel morphs into a deep, narrow cleft bordered on both sides by towering walls of solid rock. In some places, it’s barely wide enough for the Dwarves to squeeze through, let alone Gandalf and me. My palms sting, scraped and bleeding from bracing them against the rock. All things considered, it’s a small price to pay after the day I’ve had. Exhaustion envelopes my brain in fog, burying any thoughts concerning Thorin and his impending demise. It’s actually a relief.

Also, I hope Radagast is all right.

The sliver of sky visible through the crack above fades from blue to purple, and shadows engulf our path. The Dwarves’ chatter lapses into silence. A faint but noticeable hum builds in the air, lifting the hairs on my arms.

Ahead of me, Bilbo stops. Slowly, he turns to look at me, then at the Wizard behind us. “Gandalf, where are we?”

The Wizard glances between us. His blue eyes gleam unnervingly in the dimness. “You can feel it.”

“Yes. It feels like…” Bilbo glances at me, and I nod. With less focus on where I’m putting my feet, I can taste metal on the back of my tongue. “Well, like magic.”

“That’s exactly what it is,” Gandalf says softly. “A very powerful magic.”

A voice bounces off the rock walls, reaching us in a stifled echo. “There’s light ahead!”

With a glance at Gandalf’s placid, unreadable expression, I follow Bilbo towards the smell of fresh air and the soothing sound of trickling water. The tunnel opens into the pleasant evening, and my jaw drops.

We emerge onto a small outcropping overlooking a deep valley. A settlement nestles against the opposite cliff face—white walls, golden roofs and delicate arches shimmer in the light of the setting sun, surrounded by lush greenery and vibrant gardens. At least a dozen waterfalls gush from the rock into the river far below. The heady scent of a hundred different flowers fills my nose.

As I gaze down at the valley, warmth unfurls in my chest and seeps into my muscles, spreading through my limbs and pooling in my fingertips and toes. I catch myself smiling like an idiot, and quickly pull myself together before anyone can see. But I can’t squash the comfortable peace that has settled over my body.

Home. This place feels like home.

“The Valley of Imladris,” Gandalf announces. “In the common tongue, it’s known by another name.”

“Rivendell.” Bilbo’s smiling face glows in the soft evening light as he gazes out over the scene. He seems transfixed, his small body trembling slightly against my arm. The Dwarves shuffle about on the platform, restless and unimpressed.

“Here lies the Last Homely House east of the Sea.”

Thorin rounds on the Wizard, his face a thundercloud. “This was your plan all along,” he growls. “To seek refuge with our enemy.”

“You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield,” Gandalf snaps. “The only ill-will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself!”

Bilbo and I exchange a glance. A laugh bubbles in my throat, and I bite my tongue to stifle it.

“You think the Elves with give our quest their blessing?” Thorin asks, voice tinged with something almost desperate. “They will try to stop us.”

“Of course they will,” Gandalf says. “But we have questions that need to be answered.” He raises his chin slightly. “If we are to be successful, this will need to be handled with tact, respect, and no small degree of charm. Which is why you will leave the talking to me.”

What could possibly go wrong?

@moloko-tyan ; @bluelinkmp  ; @inumorph ; @psychomanias   

[ghostiewriter]

chapter one | tale of a slightly unstable teen hero

Summary: JJ is starting to gain recognition around New York as the new hero in town. However, some complications arise with his new chemistry partner. Oh, and turns out he isn’t the only bloke around here with powers.

Warnings: John B is a simp, I feel like that needs a warning tbh. Umm there’s a lot of swearing (I’m Scottish, don’t judge), again some violence and fighting, also some cute ass moments between JJ and his mum so enjoy that

Word Count: 8.1K

A/N: Sooo there’s finally some Jiara in this chapter!! Hope you enjoy👀and I’m not responsible for any feels caused by JJ and Georgia Maybank!!

masterlist // taglist // ao3

“Spider-Man does it again! Report of our favourite web-slinging hero saving the day once again after a fatal accident left an apartment complex on the corner of 5th and 36th street in flames. The teen hero arrived at the scene not long after the distress call was made to the local fire department and managed to rescue over twelve people that were trapped on the top floor. New York thanks Spider-Man once again.”

JJ grinned as he leaned back in his seat, sparing a smug look towards John B in the driver’s seat. JJ didn’t usually carpool with John B but it was getting colder and his extra-curricular activities were wearing him exhausted by morning. Plus, the last time JJ skated to school when he was half asleep, Pope had to pull him out of a trash can. Turns out raccoons can be very territorial and did not appreciate the blond taking a small visit into their home. He was pretty sure he still had scars on his back from some of those little bastards.

“Three weeks on the job and you already have a little fanbase,” John B commented, reaching over to turn the radio down a little since the reporter moved onto some irrelevant news neither of the boys cared about. “Soon you’ll have a swarm of fangirls chasing after you while you fight crime.”

“Don’t be jealous, JB,” JJ grinned, both arms behind his head as he looked at the passing view. “I’m sure one of my groupies will slum it down for you.” He teased, only laughing when he felt the flick on his forehead.

As much as he hated to admit it, JJ had seriously enjoyed the past three weeks. They were intense, impulsive and unpredictable. Just how JJ liked his life to be. It wasn’t easy at first though, it took a good few attempts before the people of New York actually labelled him as a hero. Maybe it was because he was some young bloke who popped out of nowhere with abilities that no could really understand. Or maybe it was because he was going around in a red ski mask, blue shirt, a red vest with an awfully drawn spider on it and some blue joggers. He looked like a right on idiot, especially with the chunky goggles Pope added to his costume. But if it kept his identity secret, then so be it. The last thing JJ wanted was a bunch of journalists swarming his apartment, especially since he wanted to keep this whole alter ego away from his parents. In fact, he wanted to keep it away from anyone who wasn’t John B or Pope.

It was safer that way.

“At least that’s one more that Pope.” John B said nonchalantly.

“As if, dude!” JJ scoffed, grinning at the distressed—and fairly high pitched—‘WHAT’ that came from the brunette. “Oh, c’mon, Pope created a whole ass bat signal for me! You just sit there and look pretty! Pope gets at least two groupies.” He said with a shrug.

It was true. JJ knew Pope was smart, but this was next level. After realising that JJ wasn’t getting the recognition he needed to be labelled a ‘superhero’, Pope had come up with the ingenuous idea to infiltrate the police radio stations. Not only did they have full access to updates on crimes around the city, but Pope even felt a little fancy and made it so JJ would get a notification sent to his phone the second there was a job for Spider-Man. That boy was way too smart for his own good, but JJ was grateful for it.

“Aw, you think I’m pretty?” John B asked with a teasing grin.

“Yeah,” JJ smiled, reaching to place his hand on John B’s shoulder with a squeeze. “Pretty fucking ugly.”

John B’s smile instantly dropped as he scowled at JJ, who was happily snickering at the sudden change in mood. “Whatever, Spider-boy.”

“Yikes, low blow.”

The rest of the journey was spent in a similar vibe, except with JJ checking his phone every five minutes. He couldn’t help it, but the past three weeks had been some of the most exciting in his life. JJ had been labelled the troublemaker his whole life, the one that was throwing pencils into Mrs Ramirez’s curls because they looked like little hoops. Or even just doing his damn best to avoid the work he was given. It was a force of habit. JJ’s brain was running at a million miles a second. Nothing could hold him down, keep him entertained for longer than thirty minutes at most. And his teachers had constantly reminded him that his impulsive nature and high energy would lead him nowhere good in life.

All JJ had to say to them now was a massive ‘FUCK YOU!’ because how wrong they were. It was those qualities that made JJ the perfect hero. He could react quick to a sudden change, he was always on his feet, he had found something that not only could he channel all his energy into—but he was damn good at it as well. John B and Pope had warned him that it was best to keep himself humble, to not get too arrogant. But who was he kidding? JJ made a pretty fucking bomb superhero and everyone loved him. It seemed like he deserved to feel arrogant, to soak in his time in the spotlight. He enjoyed every single second.

So, can you really blame JJ for checking his phone, wanting an excuse to put that mask on and do the one thing he is good at? Except for skateboarding. Everyone knew JJ was the best skater in Queens.

Unfortunately, there was no sudden crimes that JJ could use as excuse to ditch school. A true tragedy, if you asked him. It seems like he will just have to suffer through another day of learning things that either happened way too long ago, didn’t make sense to him or he just truly didn’t care about. Which just happened to be basically every subject—excluding wood-shop. Except he was taken out of the class because apparently making mini bongs for birds is not okay. Who would’ve thought.

“I don’t see what the issue is—it’s a fool-proof plan!” John B argued as the two boys made their way through the corridors of Midtown High. Only stopping once they reached John B’s locker where he exchanged his books and JJ checked out the hallway for anything that caught his eye.

“Bro, you have a ten-year plan to end up with Sarah Cameron,” JJ stated bluntly. “And even then, you end up as her second husband—“

“No one can prove what happened to the first.”

“It’s fucking sad, JB.”

“It’s a solid plan.” John B stated simply and shrugged his shoulders, deciding to ignore JJ as he rolled his eyes, muttering something about John B being a ‘hopeless fool’. John B only grinned wider and glanced at his watch before whispering a small ‘shit’ to himself. “I gotta go, see you at lunch.” And with that, John B was zooming his way down the corridor.

“You know it’s really creepy that you plan when you bump into her!” JJ called down the corridor, but he doubted John B heard him. “Like really fucking creepy…like restraining order level creepy!

Once he noticed John B’s head turn the corner, undoubtedly on his way to ‘coincidentally’ bump into Sarah Cameron, JJ calmly made his way to his first period class, not in a big rush to get there.

**********

You see, after the incident in wood shop and many others after that, the school had taken the decision to move JJ into a class they deemed more valuable of his time. Chemistry. Stick the ADHD kid in a room full of chemicals…seemed about right. However, JJ was being transferred half way through the term with absolutely no knowledge in chemistry other than how to make a Molotov cocktail. Therefore, he didn’t really see an issue in showing up to a class he was already hopeless in. His teacher disagreed.

“Mr Maybank, it’s nice of you to finally join us.” Mr Marino—a middle-aged bald man who had looked as though he had been through one too many divorces and contained most of his knowledge in the form of his beer belly—commented as JJ entered the class.

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe what happened to me!” JJ sighed dramatically.

“Let me guess: your alarm didn’t go off.”

“It was my pet monkey, sir. Has a mind of its own.”

“Your pet monkey?”

“Yup, his name is JB. Nasty wee guy but I keep him around, he’s a good laugh. Could do with a shower though.”

“Take a seat, Maybank.”

“I can feel the love.” JJ grinned before he turned to look at the class. It was set up with eight workbenches, two seats at each. His eyes scanned over each one before he caught an empty seat at the back-left workbench, the only empty seat—and just his luck it was next to the curly haired beauty for the trip.

JJ was starting to think he might actually enjoy this class.

“We just keep meeting, sweetheart. I think it’s a sign.” JJ whispered to her as he took his seat next to her, definitely sitting a little closer than he had to. He tried not to smirk when he noticed her subtly moving away from him. JJ always loved a challenge.

“Or a punishment.” She replied bluntly, not even sparing JJ a glance.

“Aw, is this how it’s going to be for the rest of the year, princess?” JJ muttered with a pout. He tried not to smile when she finally turned to look at him.

“Rafe got a concussion.” She hissed.

“So?” JJ frowned.

“So? You caused it!”

“And I should care because?”

“He is banned from the football team for six weeks!”

JJ stared at her blankly. “And…?”

“He is the captain!”

“Boohoo, they’ll survive without him.” JJ shrugged, leaning back in his stool as he flashed her one of his usual girl-charming smiles. “But hey, if you’re really stressed out about it, I’m sure I can help you find a way to relax.”

“You’re a pig.” She stated with a small huff, stubbornly turning to face the front, planning to not even give him the chance to redeem himself. Trust me when I say Kiara is an open person, always there to give people a second chance. But JJ Maybank was not one of those people. In the three times she had met him, he had been nothing but a shameless flirt who had no care for the world beyond his sex life. She could be judging him too quickly, but in her defence, he hadn’t given her anything else to work with.

However, Kiara assumed her behaviour was clear enough that she didn’t want to talk to him, that she could gladly go the rest of the year without willingly speaking to him. But this is JJ. Hyperactive, unable to sit still JJ. He didn’t get the hint.

“So, do anything interesting this weekend?” JJ asked her, that classic smirk of his on his lips. But she didn’t answer him. Instead, she kept her gaze on Mr Marino and his oh-so interesting talk on bond orbitals within an atom.

JJ raised his eyebrows when he received no reply from her. “Giving me the silent treatment now? That’s a bit rude.” He commented.

“So is giving someone a concussion.” She stated.

“Do you want to know what I did?” JJ asked.

“No.”

“Geez, princess, no one ever taught you manners?” He teased, taking the pen he was spinning between his fingers to gently poke her arm. She only huffed and moved her seat further away.

“Okay, alright, fine! I get it…” JJ trailed off, and Kiara couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. But she spoke to soon. She heard the scrape of a chair and suddenly she could feel the warmth of JJ right beside her, their elbows just touching.

“Is there an issue, Mr Maybank?” She heard Mr Marino call out but the boy next to her just shook his head, that mischievous glint shining in his eyes.

“No, please carry on, Alan.” The blond replied, his fingers tapping against the worktop counter.

Kiara sighed. She knew very well that she could put her hand up and complain, or even ask Mr Marino to change seats after class ended. But she was stubborn, and she would be damned if she gave JJ that satisfaction of knowing that he got under her skin.

This was going to be a long year.

**********

“She called me JB! That basically takes three years off my plan!”

“Dude, I don’t know if this is really sad or creepy now…” JJ grimaced. He had spent the last fifteen minutes listening to John B and his ‘coincidental’ encounter with Sarah Cameron. And if he was being honest, he was concerned for his friend. And his stomach…this boy needed to let JJ eat his lunch before he had to hear one more comment about how ‘yellow is totally her colour’.

“I mean, it just compliments her complexion so well! C’mon, how many people do you know that can pull of yellow and not looked totally washed out!” John B argued. But JJ just met him with a blank stare.

“When the fuck did you become a fashion expert?” JJ spoke up, his nose scrunched in confusion.

“I took a class once.”

JJ looked at him with his mouth agape. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Piss off, I wanted to learn how to dress better.”

“Says the guy that wears horrible thrifted Hawaiian shirts.” JJ deadpanned. John B only rolled his eyes and turned his attention back onto Sarah.

JJ followed his line of sight towards Sarah Cameron and her group, and he was shocked at the sight. He noticed the usual people in their uptown outfits and obnoxious laughs he could unfortunately hear from his seat. But it was the sight of his chemistry partner looking quite cosy under Rafe’s arm that caught him off-guard. His eyebrows furrowed a little, but hey, JJ should have seen this coming. The uptown kids like to stick with each other. Yet, JJ couldn’t help but find the sight quite uncomfortable to look at—Rafe had that effect on people. It was a surprise he managed to score…JJ paused. He had spent a whole hour with her and yet, he didn’t even know her name.

He nudged John B, yet neither one of them looked away from the group. “Hey JB, who’s Sarah’s new chick?”

“Who?”

“The pretty curly haired one standing next to her, dumbass.”

“Oh…I don’t actually know—“

“—Kiara Carrera. Relocated here from Kernersville, North Carolina. Her father owns a large chain of restaurants around the country. She is also the only junior other than yours truly doing three AP classes, including environmental science, biology and English.” Pope finished, panting a little considering he had literally just ran into the cafeteria and heard the last few words of their conversation.

JJ looked up at Pope with a mix of awe and fear. “What, you forgot her national insurance number as well? How the fuck do you know all that?”

“The school files.” Pope answered easily as he turned his laptop around and with the screen facing them, JJ decided he was definitely a little scared of Pope.

“Those are meant to be locked away in some super, secret network thing!” JJ hissed, only to be met with a smirking Pope.

“As if, it’s easy as fuck to hack something as amateur as the school’s firewall. Could do it with my eyes closed.” He grinned at the two of them. “Why, JJ? Hiding something from us like…I don’t know…your middle name being Belinda.” He snickered.

“YOUR NAME IS BELINDA?!” John B gasped, looking at JJ with wide eyes.

“Shut up, would you!” JJ hissed at the both of them, leaning over the table to flick John B on the forehead. “I was named after my grandmother.”

“Aww, Grammie Belinda.” John B cooed. JJ only glared at him.

“Hey, Grammie Belinda was a saint, don’t disrespect her like that.” JJ huffed, pointing a finger towards John B. He then turned to Pope who had made himself comfortable in the seat next to him.

“Why were you asking about Kiara?” Pope asked JJ, snatching a few chips from his plate. JJ swatted his hand away but didn’t stop Pope from doing it again. “Does JJ have a little crush?” He teased, pouting a little.

“Piss off,” JJ laughed as he nudged Pope with his shoulder. “She’s just my chemistry partner.”

“Ooh, so you guys have chemistry together?” John B grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Fuck off, JB. Go back to stalking your little uptown princess.” JJ commented, returning the grin as both friends shook their head. They both knew the other meant no harm.

“Well, if you two little lovebirds are done having your moment,” Pope piped up, both boys looking over at him. “I need you to meet me on your rooftop at nine sharp tonight.”

“Damn, Pope, finally taking me out?”

“You wish, Spider-Boy,” He grinned, but the look he was giving made JJ a little nervous for what Pope had hidden up his sleeve. It could honestly range from a pet raccoon he befriended to creating some weird Frankenstein bug. “Just be there.”

John B pouted. “What about me?! Is this where I become the third-wheel?”

**********

“Mama?”

“In here!”

JJ dropped his bag by the couch as he made his way to the kitchen, the soft sound of the click telling him the door shut behind him. He sniffed the air as he walked in, seeing his mum at the stove and grinned a little, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“What’s for dinner?” He asked, peeking over her shoulder.

“Spaghetti,” She hummed, a soft smile on her lips as she peeked a glance at her son. “How was school?”

“The usual,” He answered with a shrug as he made his way to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water before heading towards his usual spot on the counter. “Teachers still don’t appreciate my comments, Pope said smart things I didn’t understand and JB was a love-sick puppy.”

She grinned, shaking her head a little. “I find John B’s attempts to woo that girl quite admirable actually,” She commented. “It wouldn’t kill you to be a hopeless romantic every once in a while.” Yet, she only laughed when she saw JJ’s face scrunch up in disgust.

Despite JJ’s reputation for being an adrenaline junkie who loves to live life on the edge, these were actually his favourite moments. The little moments he shared with his mum, just the two of them. It is one of the few moments in his life where he feels relaxed, no expectations or pressures. And as sappy as it sounded—and no offence to John B and Pope—but JJ wasn’t ashamed to admit that she was one of his best friends, one of the few people in his life he truly cared about. People like her are the reason he enjoys being Spider-Man, because despite the shit people in the world, there were some genuinely good people out there, like Georgia Maybank.

It was hard to believe JJ and Georgia Maybank were related. She was a sweetheart, the type of woman who would take time out of her own life to volunteer at local food shelters despite having just done a twelve-hour shift at the hospital. She is the type of woman to buy flowers and hand them to strangers on the street just to brighten someone’s day. She is the type of woman who would work her ass off to give her son all that she could, despite the struggles she faced with the bills and rent because her son was her life. She was the opposite of JJ’s hyperactive self.

But boy, did they look very similar. From the sandy blonde hair the two of them shared, to the bright blue eyes, to even the exact same smile. JJ really was a carbon copy of his mother. And there was a small part of her, one she would never outwardly admit, that adored the fact JJ looked so much like her. Like a primal mother instinct, she loved her son and she loved that everyone knew he was her son. She would be damned if someone ever asked her to hide that.

Georgia was the type of mother that had that warm aura around her, the one that made you just trust her with your life. The hugs she gives just makes you want to stay in her arms forever, because everything is just better with Georgia Maybank. JJ knew that and he always reminded himself of that. No matter what shit he gets into, no matter how much he may envy the uptown kids—none of them will ever have Georgia Maybank and he would gladly flaunt that.

He may not have designer clothes or a fancy car to drive to school. But they don’t have Georgia Maybank, dancing around barefoot in the kitchen while she badly sings along to some old 80s song that is playing on the radio, just to make him crack a smile.

JJ grinned as his mother grabbed his hand, pulling off the counter before they jokingly began to waltz around the small kitchen, some classical song playing from the small radio that sat on the counter by the stove. JJ only laughed as he apologized for stepping on her toes again, but she didn’t mind. She just smiled and continued to dance.

“Why do I have to do this? I’m starving, woman!” He whined playfully as he twirled his mum around a few times.

“Because, JJ, one day you’re going to have a beautiful girl—or boy, I won’t assume—that will somehow fall for that charm of yours,” She spoke softly, placing a hand on her son’s cheek, a proud glint in her eyes when he rolled his eyes at her statement but still had a small smile on his face. “And I will be damned if I don’t teach my son how to sweep a girl off her feet.”

“Nothing says romantic like stepping on a girl’s toes.” He stated bluntly.

Georgia only laughed and ruffled his hair before she turned back to the stove. She grabbed two plates, putting in a larger portion for JJ—which with his new transformation wouldn’t actually be enough but he will sneak out during the night to eat the leftovers when she’s asleep—before placing them on the small dining table in the corner, gesturing for him to join her.

The rest of the dinner was fairly uneventful, simply just JJ telling her about John B’s updated seven-year plan with Sarah Cameron and Georgia sharing any particularly interesting stories about patients she had to deal with during her shift. JJ really let this dinner sink in. As much as he loved his mother, her inability to say ‘no’ and be so giving kind of bothered him. Because she had taken up extra shifts for a few of her colleagues due to something about the ‘stress of wedding planning’. JJ had been seeing her less and less—and though it was good for his recent Spider-Man shenanigans—this dinner made him realise just how much he missed her. Just a nice, wee dinner with his mum, nothing else. And everything seemed to be going well, until he heard the radio presenter’s voice flowing through the kitchen.

“Locals say that Spider-Man is the next best thing to happen to New York since deep-fried pizza! But I don’t know, Janet. I mean, who is this kid? Where did he come from? There just seems to be a lot of unanswered questions with this so-called hero. Can we really trust some prepubescent boy who probably spends his day with his head in a textbook? It just doesn’t seem—“

The radio presenter was cut off by Georgia turning the volume down. “People can’t appreciate a good gesture anymore.” She huffed. JJ watched her closely as she finished off washing the last of the dishes before turning to face him, a small frown on her lips.

“I think he’s doing the city a favour.” JJ said half-heartedly with a shrug.

Georgia nodded, her fingers gently fiddling with chain around her neck, well more specifically the gold ring attached to it. “I know but,” She sighed. “What a shame, putting all this pressure on a poor teenage boy. Oh, I feel bad for his parents!”

JJ coughed a little. “It could be his decision, you know.”

Georgia continued as though she hadn’t heard him. “I could only imagine how stressful it would be have your son out there, throwing himself at danger.” She shook her head as she made her way to where JJ still sat at the dining table. “Promise me you wouldn’t do something so careless?” She asked sweetly, gently cupping his face in her hands as she looked down at him.

Now, JJ knew there was a teasing tone to her words. She wasn’t being serious because, how could she? Her son being a superhero with crazy powers? Not possible. She and JJ shared everything and it was because of that he couldn’t help but feel a wave of guilt wash over him. He hated lying to his mum, he hated keeping secrets from her. They were always close, JJ never felt the need to hide things from her. There was always such a comfortable vibe between them. But he knew how she would react if he told her the truth. He knew she would freak out and make him stop. And JJ didn’t want to stop. As much as he hated the guilt that bubbled inside him, he pushed it away and gave her a grin.

“Of course not, I would come up with a better name than Spider-Man.” He joked lightly and closed his eyes when he felt his mum press a kiss to his forehead. He nuzzled his head slightly as he wrapped his arms around her, resting his head against her stomach. He smiled softly when he felt her hands running through his hair, just like the way she used to do when he was younger and struggling to fall asleep. He tried to hold back a yawn.

“That’s my baby boy.” She said with a gentle laugh.

“Mama, I’m a not a baby! I’m a man now.” He whined but he didn’t pull away from her grip just yet. He missed his mum’s hugs, sue him.

“You’ll always be my baby boy.” She commented with a small shrug.

“Yeah, yeah,” He murmured. After a few moments of silence, he looked up at her, giving the best puppy-dog eyes he could. She was always a sucker for those. “Can I go hang out with JB and Pope tonight?” He asked with a sweet smile.

She rolled her eyes but nodded. “Just be back before your father gets home.”

**********

JJ rubbed his hands together as he stared at the view from the roof. New York looked absolutely stunning this time of year, especially at night. The sky was pitch black, and it should’ve seemed daunting. But the bright lights of the city illuminated everything. It was mesmerising, a sight that JJ would never get tired of seeing. And with his newly discovered powers, he found something therapeutic about swinging around the city and being surrounded those bright lights. It felt like he was swinging through the stars—he obviously didn’t share that with the boys, they would take the piss out of him. Speaking of which…

“Where the fuck is he?” JJ hissed, turning to look at John B who only shrugged in response. As much as JJ liked New York at night, it was cold. The lower body temperature caused by the spider bite really didn’t help the situation. He had a hoodie and a jacket on and still the light breeze was making his teeth chatter.

“I don’t know.” John B shrugged. JJ rolled his eyes in annoyance. It was 9:15pm and JJ was about five minutes away from freezing to death.

Just then, the rooftop door opened and a wild Pope was sprinting towards then, panting heavily as he ripped his backpack off and quickly unzipped it. Words were leaving his lips but between the panting, neither of them could work out what he was saying.

“Dude, calm down, breathe!” John B exclaimed. Pope nodded and took a minute to catch himself.

“Your lives are gonna change forever!” He grinned before looking at JJ. “Strip.”

JJ raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“Strip.”

“Dude, it’s like fifty fucking degrees, I am not gonna fucking strip!”

“Stop whining and do it!”

JJ huffed and started to take his clothes off, muttering some very…colourful phrases towards Pope. However, he didn’t get much time to question his friend’s demands because the second he was stripped down to his boxers, he had a bunch of fabric thrown at him.

“Wait…is this…?” He trailed off, looking at Pope with a new look of excitement shining in his eyes.

“You bet,” Pope grinned. “Say hello to your brand-new suit, Spider-Man.”

JJ excitedly began to pull the suit on, suddenly forgetting all about his theatrics with the cold. But Pope wasn’t done with his surprise.

“The suit is a total upgrade!” He began, his hands moving wildly as he spoke. “The fabric is strong but flexible. I have added small web-shooters to go over your spinneret glands so you can have a more direct shots. There are a few extra things I’ve added like a small heater to keep you warm and a few sensors, so we can keep track of your vitals. Oh, and for us—” He paused before handing John B a silver bracelet.

John B looked at the bracelet in confusion. “Uh, thanks?”

Pope only grinned and showed John B that he was wearing a similar bracelet. He slipped it off before unclipping a small oval shaped device from the middle of the bracelet. “This is the coolest part,” He nodded for John B to copy his movements. “To be honest, these took the longest. I had JJ’s suit done like two weeks ago but—”

“And you made me wait this long? Dude, I looked like a weirdo running around in joggers!” JJ groaned, but there was no real hostility in his voice.

“Just put on your mask, dude!”

JJ rolled his eyes but didn’t answer as he slipped the mask over his face. He was a bit surprised at how easily he could see through it, way better than the goggles he had before. The suit was a perfect fit—props to Pope after it took an hour to get all of JJ’s measurements. The material was tight and breathable, practically clinging onto JJ like a second skin. Oddly enough, he felt far more comfortable in it than his last costume. Pope clearly liked the colour scheme, having kept the red and blue palette but with a massive spider on his chest, with lines wrapping around him to look like a web. He looked totally badass, he felt badass. He felt like a proper hero from one of those comic books and posters Pope has around his room.

“So, how do I look?” JJ asked, flexing as he gave the boys a little spin. Pope only grinned, proud of his creation. John B gasped, clearly just as hyped as JJ was.

“Dude, your ass looks great.” John B commented, causing JJ to snort.

“When does it not look great?”

“Guys! The last surprise!” Pope piped up, causing both boys to stop staring at JJ’s ass and instead turn to him.

“These little guys,” He said, nodding between the small oval devices in his and John B’s hands. “Are gonna help us keep in contact with you while you’re swinging around. Little ear pieces so we can help you out and keep tabs on you if you need any help.”

“Where’s my bracelet?” JJ frowned beneath the mask.

“You don’t need one, dumbass. Your ear piece is connected into your mask!” Pope grinned proudly. JJ let out a scoff, shaking his head.

“Pope, you fucking genius!” He yelled, and he pulled his friend into a tight hug. John B, feeling a little left out, quickly joined the hug.

“This is so cool, dude, now we are like an actual team!” John B grinned.

Pope was the first to pull back, looking at JJ with a wild look in his eyes. “I think it’s time for Spider-Man to show the city his new look.”

JJ grinned under the mask, already beginning to take a few steps back. “I think you’re right.” And without a second thought, he left himself fall off the edge of the building.

On that October night, New York watched their own hero swing through the streets, letting the cheers and whoops of the strangers sink in. They watched their hero in a new light, a more professional one. The next day, he was no longer that kid running around like some wannabe. He was Spider-Man, the new saviour of New York and a beloved hero.

It was wild what a good new suit could do for your reputation.

**********

“Did you see the pictures The Daily Bugle released?”

“He looked so hot!”

“I’d let him save me any day!”

“You don’t even know what he looks like…”

“So? Have you seen those arms? Nothing else matters!”

JJ couldn’t help but let the smirk on his face grow as he walked through the corridors of the school. It was the day after his new suit reveal and he wasn’t going to lie, he was soaking in all the attention. He was particularly enjoying the twitter thread that was made about his ass. John B didn’t lie, his ass did look good in this new suit.

He continued his way through the sea of students before he made it to his chemistry class, not surprised that people were still talking about Spider-Man. His eyes instantly glanced over at Kiara, who was sitting at their workbench scrolling through her phone.

He grinned as he quickly past the other students and sat quite comfortably in his seat. His eyebrows raised slightly when she didn’t react at first to his appearance. His curiosity got the best of him as he leaned towards her, peeking over her shoulder to see what she was looking at. Now, JJ won’t lie to you, but when he saw her staring at pictures of Spider-Man, his ego definitely inflated a little. Okay, maybe more than a little but you get the point.

“You a fan?” He couldn’t help but ask, trying to keep his smirk to himself.

Kiara quickly snapped her head to look at him, slamming her phone down screen first onto the desk. “Can you mind your business?” She huffed, trying to calm her heartbeat a little. She didn’t even hear him come in, which is odd since usually you could hear JJ from a mile away.

“Aw, c’mon, Kiara! I thought we were besties now.” He grinned to her, wiggling his eyebrows a little. He leaned forward on the desk, bringing him a little closer to her. His forearms were pressed against the desk, his body leaning on them. She noticed how close their hands were. But after yesterday, she refused to left JJ get under her skin again. Or at least let him see how much he is bothering her. So, she stayed where she was, not moving back like he expected.

“You know my name.” It wasn’t a question, more a statement.

“Surprised?” He whispered, smirking a little when he noticed he wasn’t moving away. JJ risked it a little more and moved a bit closer.

“Took you long enough.” She replied with a shrug. JJ’s grin only widened.

“Oh yeah, counting down the days, princess?” He raised an eyebrow. He noticed her lips quirk a little, like she was fighting back a smile.

“You wish, pretty boy.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Shut up.”

“I think someone has a little crush, Kiara.” He grinned at her, only to witness her roll her eyes and push him away.

“In your dreams, Maybank.”

“Oh, you’re definitely in my dreams, Kiara.”

She rolled her eyes again but didn’t bother replying this time. She instead focused her gaze on the front of the class as Mr Marino entered the room, beginning the lesson. But if she had glanced over to the blond sitting on his right, she would’ve seen he was smiling throughout the whole lesson.

**********

“Thank you, dear!”

JJ nodded his head a little in acknowledgement and gave the older woman a small salute. “Always here to help, ma’am.” He said, handing her the small handbag that he had just rescued from the hands of some man who had tried to steal it from her.

“Aw, you’re really starting to win over the senior citizens.”

JJ rolled his eyes when he heard Pope’s voice through his earpiece. “Dude, I think she pinched my ass.”

“Lucky you, older woman, that’s hot.”

“JB, shut up.”

JJ snorted a little at the bickering, extending his arm out before he was swinging between the buildings with no trouble. He had been using any free time he had lately to be out in his suit, getting used to all the cool, extra bits that Pope had added. And he won’t lie, the boy really outdid himself. JJ felt like a total badass, being able to swing around and save people and feel like a real hero. He also enjoyed the change in attitude people had with him. He was Spider-Man, the city hero. He was appreciated. He was wanted. Not something JJ felt very often.

“Anything happening around town?” JJ asked, his eyes scanning the streets below, waiting to see any conflict. He couldn’t help but feel as though there was a part of him that was on edge. He couldn’t really explain it, it was like a bad shiver down his spine. It was a similar feeling he felt before that bank robbery fiasco a few weeks ago. It was a nasty wee feeling, one that had him on alert. Something was wrong, he didn’t know what. But he could sense it.

“Nah, everything seems to be fine. Maybe you should take a break, you’ve been swinging around for, like, three hours. You need to rest, dude.”

“What?” JJ muttered, so quiet that the boys on the other side barely heard him. That couldn’t be right, he can feel it. Something isn’t right, something bad is going to happen. “Guys, are you—”

He was cut off by a series of screams.

JJ’s body was reacting way before his brain did, like his hero side just leaped into action at the alert of any distress. He was swinging as fast as he could, his arms burning a little as he got closer and closer to the sound of those screams. He could hear his blood pumping in his ears, could feel his heart rate pick up. The adrenaline coursing through him, making him forget about the burning in his muscles from the three hours of patrolling he had done.

“That’s fucking weird, there is no police reports coming through.”

JJ ignored the voices coming through the earpiece, his whole body feeling rigid as he crouched on top of a building, looking at the carnage below. There, in the middle of the square stood what looked like a moving black cloud. Civilians were screaming and running away, but the black cloud just remained. His eyes narrowed slightly, like he was waiting for it to do something, to lash out. But it didn’t. He opened his mouth, ready to ask Pope if he was just imagining something when he heard the black cloud speak.

“Spider-Man, oh Spider-Man! Come out, come out wherever you are!” It spoke in a raspy, demonic voice. Whatever this way, it wasn’t human. JJ may have failed biology, but he knew that for sure.

“JJ, don’t. We are have no idea what this thing is. It could be a trap—”

“I got this, Pope.” JJ muttered, ignoring his friends’ pleas to think this through as he swung down, landing a couple of feet away from the black cloud. “You called?”

Suddenly, in the middle of the cloud, JJ swore he could see lips begin to materialise. He frowned beneath the mask but didn’t move away. His fist was clenched at the side, ready to react if the cloud tried anything.

“Ah, we finally meet, Spider-Man.” The cloud spoke again. The voice sent shivers down his spine. JJ pushed away that feeling of discomfort. Something about the cloud felt familiar, but he couldn’t tell what. It was like an annoying itch he couldn’t reach.

“Am I supposed to know who you are?” JJ questioned. “Look, dude, if you’re a fan, I appreciate it, but you don’t need to scare away a whole block of people to get my attention. You can just ask for an autograph like everyone else.”

“JJ stop provoking it!”

“You’ll know me soon enough.” The voice replied ambiguously. JJ furrowed his eyebrows together. Whatever this cloud was, it was being far too vague for JJ’s liking.

“PEOPLE OF NEW YORK, I SPEAK OUT TO YOU!”

JJ winced, clutching his ears. His body was on high-alert, his ears sensitive to pick out any small noise or rustle. He looked at the cloud and then at his surroundings, noticing how every screen—every phone, every billboard, every electrical compliance in this vicinity that he could see—was projecting the black cloud. It was broadcasting to the whole city. JJ couldn’t help but wonder where the fuck the hidden camera was. How was it doing this?

“YOU LABEL THIS KID AS YOUR HERO! YOU TRUST THIS CHILD WITH YOUR LIVES! YOU ARE FOOLISH!” The voice boomed, suddenly the black cloud began to form tentacles that were slithering from whatever was at the centre of it. “LET ME SHOW YOU THE TRUTH! LET ME SHOW YOU WHO YOU HAVE TO PROTECT YOU!”

JJ was a little too distracted by the concept of a cloud broadcasting to the city that he didn’t even notice one of the tentacles slithering towards him. It wrapped itself around his leg before swinging him into the nearest building.

JJ let out a small oomph as his body made contact with the brick wall. He could hear yelling in the distance, the sounds of people screaming. But nothing was overpowering the ringing in his ears as he slowly dragged himself to stand up.

“JJ, GET UP! JJ!”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” He muttered, blinking a few times before he turned back to look at the cloud. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise and quickly rolled over to the side, the tentacle that threw him smashing into the wall not even a second later. That rush of adrenaline hitting JJ again as he quickly swung out of there, not even looking behind him until he knew he was a good distance away to assess the situation.

“IS THIS WHO YOU WANT PROTECTING YOU? A COWARDLY TEENAGER? C’MON, SPIDER-MAN! LET’S SEE WHAT YOU’VE GOT!”

JJ swore under his breath, trying to catch up with his thoughts as he watched more tentacles appear from the cloud. “Where the fuck are they coming from?” He muttered before swinging down to a lower building rooftop, crouching at the edge. He narrowed his eyes as he extended his hand out, shooting a web towards the centre of the cloud. There had to be something solid within this thing, something he can grip on to, something he can fight. But he was met with nothing. “Fuck.” He frowned before he began to crawl down the side of the building.

“You seem a bit jealous, mate!” JJ called out, watching as all eight of the tentacles seemed to snap their attention towards him. God, that was scary. “Don’t you have to tell me some wild origin story before you kill me?”

“MY AIM ISN’T TO KILL YOU, SPIDER-MAN. NOT YET!”

“Oh, that’s really reassuring, thank you so much.”

“I WANT NEW YORK TO SEE HOW PATHETIC YOU ARE. HOW USELESS THEIR SAVIOUR IS.”

“A bit of an odd wish, if you ask me.” He murmured to himself, quickly snapping his wrist before swinging around the black cloud. He watched as the tentacles reached out for him, just grazing him as he swung between the buildings.

“JJ, FIGHT BACK!”

“How the fuck do I fight something that isn’t solid? Get a vacuum? If you have one big enough, please do share. Call the ghostbusters or something!”

He heard more screams, some closer than he expected. He assumed everyone ran off, but when he turned his head to the side, he noticed a man standing there, frozen in fear. More importantly, he saw a car heading straight towards the scared man.

“Shit, shit, shit,” JJ yelled as he quickly yanked his web, spinning around and landing in front of the man, his hands extended out in front of him. Seconds later he felt the impact of the car, the weight and momentum it came crashing in at hit him strong enough to make him slide back a few feet. “Go, dude!” He yelled at the man, who had finally come to his senses and thanked JJ profusely before sprinting away. JJ groaned and threw the car away from him, huffing slightly.

“HOLY SHIT, JJ! THAT WAS A CAR!”

“Oh, no shit, Sherlock! I thought it was Barbie’s Dreamhouse.” Only JJ would be sarcastic while his life is in threat.

But it was that sarcasm that distracted him long enough for one of the tentacles wrap around his ankle, yanking him down from the small jump he had taken so the web he was currently gripping snapped with ease, preventing him a quick escape like he planned. He didn’t even have time to scream before he noticed the tentacle bringing him closer to the middle of the cloud, his eyes widening slightly.

He wiggled around in the tentacle’s grip, trying to find a way out but it was relentless. He wasn’t sure what was real or not, not sure if he imagined screaming in his head or if he actually did as he was dropped into the centre of the cloud.

Then, he felt nothing.

JJ was vaguely aware of his surroundings. He didn’t know if his eyes were open or not, but it was dark. He tried to move his arm, but it felt constricted, like he was swimming in something really thick. His brain was screaming at him to call out for Pope and John B, to move his hands and swing out of here, to do something. But another part of JJ felt completely content in this situation. He couldn’t explain it, but something washed over him, like a massive electric shock that made him aware of just how…familiar this seemed. It was similar to the feeling he had earlier.

He felt safe, understood.

And then that feeling was gone.

Suddenly, JJ found himself being thrown around in circles, something holding a tight grip on his ankle. But soon enough, that let go too and JJ was soon flying through the air, too out of it to even react fast enough to web onto something or soften his eventual crash.

JJ felt the air be completely knocked out of him, his body bouncing off the concrete a couple of times before he rolled over. It took him a few attempts to finally open his eyes, take in his surroundings, to see he was in some dingy alleyway. He turned his head to the side, briefly seeing a black blob in the distance. He could hear some muffled yelling.

“HEED THIS AS A WARNING, SPIDER-MAN. NEXT TIME WE MEET, IT WILL BE OUR LAST!”

JJ vaguely furrowed his eyebrows together before turning his head to stare at the blue sky above instead. When the ringing and the muffling was over, he could hear the screams of his friends coming through the earpiece.

“JJ! JJ, PLEASE FUCKING ANSWER, DUDE!”

“JJ, ARE YOU DEAD?!”

“WHY WOULD HE FUCKING ANSWER IF HE WAS DEAD!”

“SHUT UP, I’M FLUSTERED!”

JJ frowned a little, his whole throat felt dry and numb. There was also a metallic taste in his mouth that told him he must’ve bitten his tongue at some point. God, he hated the taste of blood. “It…It felt…”

“OH MY GOD, JJ!”

“IT FELT LIKE WHAT BUD? YOU GOOD?”

“It felt just like me.” He finally got out.

Then everything went black.

[thatforgottenbasilisk]

3 with Jon and Izuku in your crossover please

Sure thing, anon!

3: “For once, this isn’t actually my fault.”

It's Not In Your Head (AO3)

1820 words

(set during The Truth About Me, and the Truth About You, when Jon tells Midoriya everything about the fears)

Jon clicked the tape recorder off. He didn't want what would follow to be on tape, he wanted some things, at least, to remain private. It didn't matter that his life, his tragedies, his misery and paranoia were all laid bare to these tapes; Midoriya, at least, deserved the minimum amount of mercy that he could give.

"There's no easy way to tell you this. Any of this. The beginning would be the best place to start, then? A simple explanation, like the one that I never got.

There are fourteen known entities influencing our world as we know it. They have existed for as long as fear itself has; for as long as brains, in any form, have been in existence. All of them are based upon different fears; there's the Buried, which is claustrophobia; the Corruption, bugs and disease and that sort of thing; the Dark, which is self-explanatory; the Desolation, which is fire and destruction; the End, which is death; the Eye, which is fear of being seen and known; the Flesh, which is meat; the Hunt, which is fear of being hunted like prey; the Lonely, fear of being alone; the Slaughter, which is senseless violence; the Spiral, which is deception; the Stranger, which is fear of strangers, basically the Uncanny Valley; the Vast, fear of heights or things that are too big; and the Web, which is fear of spiders and manipulation. There is debate about the emergence of a possible fifteenth fear, the Extinction, which is fear of the apocalypse and what will come after us when we are all gone.

Of course, this is a very simplified explanation of all of them; in reality, they are much more tangled up in each other, and are often quite subtle. For all intents and purposes, however, that will have to suffice.

These entities, these beings, they're not quite a part of our world, but they can influence it from outside of it, from whatever dimension they reside in. They want to come fully into our world, so that they may terrorize all of us and feed on everyone's fear. For that, they need followers who are loyal to them, who will bring them here so that they may remake the world into their own images.

That's where we come in. When someone becomes a servant of an entity, sometimes it's by choice. But usually, it is not. These servants often receive powers from their patron, allowing them to more easily harvest fear that will feed that which they serve."

"... What do you mean, "that's where we come in?" What does this have to do with your quirk? What does it have to do with the questions you asked me?"

"That's... the hard part. People who serve the entities often have no choice in it; sometimes, they even serve unknowingly. Sometimes, people gain powers without noticing, thinking it to be a part of their quirks, or simply believing it to be normal."

"Why do I think- no. You're not trying to say- I- I don't serve one of those fears, do I? I- I mean... powers like that, if I was feeding off of fear, I, I would notice, right?"

"I'm sorry. From what it sounds like, you serve the same one as I do. The Eye, otherwise known as the Beholding. It allows us to know things that we shouldn't, often without us realizing that we shouldn't know it. We also understand all languages, often speaking them without noticing that it feels wrong. It feeds by watching things happen, by just seeing fear. I feed on Statements, accounts of times when people have undergone experiences with the other entities. From what it sounds like, you feed on watching Hero fights, leeching the fear from the villains or the heroes, depending on how the fight is going."

"How do I know that you're telling the truth?"

"Remember when I asked you if you could understand what I was asking you? Then when I asked what language we were speaking?"

Midoriya nodded.

"That wasn't Japanese. It was English. I can play the tape back to prove it, if you want."

"Y-yeah. I want... I want to hear this for myself."

"Alright. Pay attention, and then you'll notice the switch."

Jon picked up the tape recorder and rewound it to a moment or two before it stopped recording. Then, he pressed play, and it spat out the English that he and Midoriya had been speaking.

Jon looked back up to see Midoriya gaping at the tape recorder, tears flowing down his face and looking to be the picture of horror. He looked... devastated. Like he wasn't even seeing a tape recorder, but a monster which would kill all of his friends and then him. He looked like he'd just caused the apocalypse.

Jon's first thought was, “For once, this isn’t actually my fault.” And isn't that something? Technically, it really wasn't Jon's fault. He was just the poor sod who had to tell this kid, who looked like the physical embodiment of sunshine, that he was a monster, who fed on fear to sustain himself, as well as to feed a monster that wanted to torture the entire human race. He didn't- wait. Jon didn't tell him that he was technically dead.

How the fuck was he about to look this child in the eyes and give him more bad news?

"Midoriya. Something else about the servants of the entities... when they've come into the full extent of their powers, some of us have taken to calling them "Avatars," instead of someone merely aligned with an entity. However, one can only access the full extent of their powers by dying, and then coming back to life after doing so."

"... That wasn't a near-death experience, was it? I really did... I really did die, didn't I?"

"You did. In doing so, and then coming back, you've dedicated yourself to the Beholding, like I have. Now that you know this, you can stop feeding on your friends, or your heroes, and start on a new source. I have Statements from the Japanese branch of the Magnus Institute, and I can call them in order to tell them that you need unrestricted access to their Archives..."

"Wait, wait, wait. Can you... can you stop? For a moment? Please, I... I'm dead. I don't want to hurt anyone, I don't know what to do... I don't want to feed at all! I just want to go back to not serving anything. Am I... am I even human anymore?"

Jon sighed, and he felt his own misery and confusion looking back at him from someone who was half his age, when he felt like that. When he found out about... everything. He didn't want to tell Midoriya about the answers to his questions, how it's impossible to keep living without hurting people, at this point. How it's impossible to stop being an Avatar without dying a long, slow, and painful death. How he isn't even human, not really. Not in the ways that matter.

"You can't live a life without hurting anyone. Not anymore. The best that you can do is read Statements, and hope that the writers are already dead, or else they've been read already. You might come across some that are alive, some Statements that have somehow never been read by anyone, but it's the best that you can do. You can't stop it, not unless you want to starve yourself back to death, but your instincts will take over before that happens; if you stop, if you starve yourself of fear entirely, then you'll start hunting for it. You won't even realize that you're doing it, not until someone tells you and you realize that your walks, or your errands, they had a lot of Statement-givers, didn't they? Or, well, in your case I suppose you'd come across more hero fights than you normally would, and you wouldn't really feel the need to intervene, because you'll think that the other hero has it handled, and you haven't got your costume on anyway, and you shouldn't get in the way unless they really need backup, right?

No. You need to deliberately choose to read the Statements, actively choose to take what is old and stale but will keep you alive and others from being hurt by your actions, by your very existence."

"Okay. I- I will. I'll read the oldest Statements, I won't watch any fights anymore, no more analysis or anything. I don't want to keep hurting people. But... you didn't answer my last question. Am I- are we- still human?"

"No. Not... not quite. That's why you can't withdraw from your classmates and friends, now. If you're alone, if you haven't anyone to keep you attached to humanity, then you'll start to drift. You'll stop caring about hurting them. You'll start hunting on purpose, and nobody wants that."

"Okay. Thank you, Sims-san. One more question, if that's okay?"

"Of course."

"Is anyone- do you know if anyone else that I know serves one of the entities?"

"You don't want me to answer that."

Midoriya curled into himself, and cast his eyes down on the table between them. He looked almost detached from the situation at hand, now, as though he wasn't really processing any of it. He probably wasn't, not really, not even close to accepting any of it.

"So the answer's yes, then."

Jon couldn't bring himself to speak. He knew that he often came across as callous and uncaring, and he needed to speak in order to explain the situation, but now? His words would only make things worse. So, he slowly and carefully laid a hand on one of Midoriya's scarred ones, giving it a gentle squeeze that he hopes came across as reassuring.

"Just tell me who it is, please. It's worse if I have to be suspicious of everyone around me."

"It's... it's your partner. Todoroki Shouto. That I know of, at least. I'm sorry."

Midoriya let out a quiet sob, and clutched Jon's hand like it was a lifeline.

"For what it's worth, I don't believe that he would hurt anyone on purpose, nor do I believe that he chose to align himself like that. I think that you should talk to him about it yourself, though."

"Is he... is he dead too?" Midoriya's voice sounded so broken, so defeated, that Jon somehow managed to pity the boy even more. He didn't deserve this. He never deserved this.

"I don't know."

"Okay. Thank you for telling me this."

"I wish I didn't have to. I wish that none of this was real."

"So do I. But wishing doesn't change anything, and I think that we know that better than anyone else could."

"You're right. Good luck in your heroics, Midoriya Izuku."

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

The Intern | Part Six

Summary: You move to New York to focus on your art but end up working as an intern at Stark Enterprises

Chapter Summary: time to meet the Avengers

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader, Peter Parker x Reader (friendship)

Word Count: 2880

A/N: for the purposes of this story Stark Enterprise is set out like an office building in New York and the story does not follow the same timeline as the movies. Reader has just found out Peter is Spiderman. Also, spelling and grammar is not my strongest skill so please be kind :)

Part Five | Masterlist

- - - - - 

You wake up on a hospital bed in a medical lab. Your eyes flutter open and you look around, taking in your surroundings. There’s some sort of medical monitor attached to your finger and some pads stuck to your chest with wires that lead to a machine which is bleeping in sync with your heart rate. You sit up slowly, looking around you for some idea of where you are. There’s a man sitting at a desk with his back to you, studying something through a microscope. He hasn’t noticed that you’re awake.

“Where am I?” You ask quietly and the man jumps up from his chair to look at you, knocking something over on the desk as he does. 

“Somewhere safe” he replies nervously, holding his hands up to show he’s not a threat “FRIDAY? Could you Tony she’s awake please?” 

You look at him confused. 

“Already alerted him, he’s on his way” a voice replies from somewhere, you look around trying to figure out where. Tony comes running into the room, sees you and looks relieved. He comes up close to you and takes your hand in his.

“y/n, you’re okay!” You can hear the relief in his voice. 

“What happened to me? It felt like my body was on fire...” you trail off reliving the pain in your memory.

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out” says the man who had finished picking up the bits he’d knocked over and was now walking over to you and Tony. He handed Tony some papers but you can't see what is on them. 

“y/n, this is Dr Bruce Banner. He’s helping me work out exactly what was injected into you last night and what affect it has had in your body.” Tony explains, looking at the papers and handing them back to the man. 

“We already know it has caused you to heal quicker-“ Dr Banner says causally, as he’s removing the medical monitors that are attached to you. 

“What?” You interrupt him, you need more explanation than that.

“When I found you, you were covered in cuts and bruises from fighting. But now...” Tony lifts up your arm to show you it’s now completely bare from any marks. Even the cut on your hand you’d accidentally got a few days ago while cooking is suddenly gone. You stare at the place where it was in disbelief. 

“Who were they? Why would they do this to me?” You shake your head. 

“They were working for Professor Randall” Tony says and your eyes shoot up to to him. “He’s been developing a serum that could create advanced humans. Superheroes. That’s why he’s been harassing me, ever since the Avengers first assembled he believed he could help me make more. But I wanted no part in it. I told him, we don’t get to decide these things. We don’t get to play God!” He shouts as he turns away and runs his hand through his hair. He looks back at you with a sadness in his eyes. “That’s why he’s been following you. He wanted to prove to me that he could turn someone normal into...” he trails off, taking a deep breath to calm down.

“A superhero” you finish his sentence and he nods. You take a shaky breath. “Why me?”

“Because you’re the one who chased him, back at the office. When you did that you caught his attention. Thats when he chose you.”

Then you realise. He’d been planning this for weeks, watching you and planning to experiment on you. You’re just a guinea pig to him. Then you realise something else and your eyes fill up with tears. 

“That’s why you promoted me? You were keeping me close?” 

Dr Banner looks awkward and decides to quietly leave the room to give you both some space.

Tony drops his head sadly, looking at the floor for a moment before looking back at you. 

“Yes” 

You squeeze your eyes shut as a tear rolls down your cheek.

“That was part of the reason, but y/n everything else I said to you that day was true. I have never met anyone like you, and you have proved to everyone that that job was supposed to be yours.”

You open your eyes to look at him. 

“And the kiss?” You almost whisper.

“100% real” he puts his hands on your cheeks, looking deep into your eyes. “Y/N, it was all real” 

You take a deep breath. There’s a lot to process right now, you need some time to think. 

“So what happens now?” You ask.

“Dr Banner still has some tests to run. We found the needle and thankfully they didn’t inject the whole amount into you so we have plenty to study. And whatever effects this stuff has had should be less powerful without the full dose. In the mean time, you’ll stay here at the Avengers compound. It’s the safest place for you right now.” 

You nod at him. 

“I’ve had a room prepared for you. I’ll take you there now and you can have some time to relax before dinner.” 

He gives you his hand to help you down from the bed you’ve been sitting on and walks you out the door, down the corridor and into a lift. You travel up a few floors before the doors open and your lead to your room. He opens the door for you and you both step inside. 

It’s a nice room. Plain basic decor, but there’s a big window with views across the training fields outside. You sit down on the double bed and Tony stays stood at the door. 

“There’s clothes in the closet if you want to change. If you need me or anything at all just ask FRIDAY” 

You stare at him blankly and he realises you don’t know what he’s talking about. He explains what FRIDAY is and what to do and you silently nod at him. 

“I’ll come and get you when dinner is ready” He says smiling sadly at you. You can see he feels guilty and upset so you give him a small reassuring smile back. As he’s shutting the door you hear Peter running down the corridor. 

“Mr Stark! Is she okay? Can I see her?” He’s shouting. 

“She’s okay, but she needs to rest”

“No! let him in” you say jumping up off the bed and Tony looks to you raising an eyebrow. “I want to see him”

Tony opens the door wider and Peter awkwardly steps in, looking sheepishly at you. 

“Don’t stress her out” Tony warns Peter before looking at you “don’t let him stress you out” he says then leaves, shutting the door behind him. Peter stays stood looking at you until you gesture for him to take a seat. He walks over to sit on the chair that is in front of the window, facing the bed. You sit back on the bed with your legs crossed. You can tell he feels awkward and doesn’t really know how to have this conversation with you. You decide to make the first move. 

“So, you’re Spider-Man?” 

“I am so sorry I didn’t tell you y/n. I really wanted to but I just didn’t know how to say it or how you’d react and I guess I was scared that you wouldn’t want to be my friend...” he stops rambling and looks down sadly at the floor “But I understand if you don’t want to be my friend now anyway”

“Why wouldn’t I want to be your friend?” You say smiling at him “what, because you’re a superhero?” you laugh “Peter this changes absolutely nothing, other than the fact that I know now you’re a total badass!”

Peter looks relieved “you’re not mad?” He sounds surprised 

“Of course not, no, I get why you’d want keep this a secret. You deserve to be able to live a normal life when you’re not in the suit. Plus you saved me from those guys last night.”

“Not quick enough, they still got to you” he shakes his head 

“Yes but you stopped them, that’s the important thing. Who knows what would have happened to me if they had given me the whole dose!” You stop suddenly as a thought comes into your head “hey, how did you even know I was in trouble?” You ask. 

“After that guy approached you in the coffee shop, Mr Stark asked me to keep an eye on your place whenever I could. I’ve been swinging by to check up on you every night since then”

“You’ve been watching my house? All night?” You ask in disbelief.

“Only before Mr Stark made that watch alarm for you. After that he said I didn’t have to anymore, but I still did. Not all night, just occasionally checked you were safe” he looks awkward, like he thinks you’re going to see this as some sort of invasion of privacy. Instead you stand up off the bed and go over to him, throwing your arms around him in a hug.

“thank you” you whisper.

“Just doing my duty as the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man” he says, you release him and sit back on the end of the bed. 

“So, tell me everything... how did it go with MJ at the ball?” You ask, deciding to change the subjects and Peter instantly blushes. 

— — — —

You spend the next half an hour chatting normally with your best friend as if nothing weird had happened lately until FRIDAY interrupts and tells you Tony has instructed Peter to let you rest. You roll your eyes as Peter follows orders and leaves you alone. You spend some time looking out of the window at the scenery, wishing you had your sketchbook so you could draw. After a while you start to feel tired and decide to lie down on your bed. You must have drifted off because when Tony knocks the door you jump awake. He tells you it’s time for dinner and you follow him down to the main living area where some of the Avengers are sitting waiting. 

Captain Rogers stands up as you enter, pulling out a chair for you to sit at the dining table. You thank him and he sits back in his seat opposite you. Tony takes the seat next to you and you look around the room at the other people sitting at the large dining table. You make eye contact with a woman dressed all in black and she smiles at you. 

“Dinner is served” come a posh British voice and you see a red man come walking over followed by another woman who you recognise off the news as the Scarlet Witch. Both are carrying trays of food which they place down on the table. 

“Help yourselves” the red man says. 

“Where’s Bruce?” Tony asks looking around “FRIDAY please tell Dr Banner-“ he interrupted as Bruce comes running in.

“Sorry, sorry! I was working” he says taking a seat next to Tony. “I need to talk to you” you hear him say to Tony and the two of them quietly talk to each other. You cant hear what they are saying but it sounds serious. 

“Don’t be shy, we’re all friendly” Steve says, handing you a plate of food. 

“Yeah you gotta be quick when the food comes out or these walking trash cans will eat it all” the woman who smiled at you earlier says, pointing at two other men sat further down the table. 

“Rude” says one man with a smirk.

“We came all this way for a family meeting and this is how you treat us” says the other. The woman winks at him. “Speaking of, why did you call us all here?” He asks directed at Tony, stands up. 

“Right. As you can see, we have a new face with us. This is y/n” he puts his hand on your shoulder “y/n this is Vision, Wanda, Sam, Clint, Natasha, and of course you’ve met Bruce and Captain Rogers” 

You nod and give them all a smile

“Y/N has been working with me at Stark Enterprise and she is wonderful, you're gonna love her. But right now she needs somewhere safe, that’s where you all come in. Some of you may remember Professor Randall. Unfortunately he has decided y/n would be the perfect subject to test his serum on and last night he sent men to break into her apartment. Peter was able to stop them before they did too much damage, but the men got away. It’s our job now to stop them and the Professor from getting to y/n or anyone else.”

“You will be safe here y/n, you’re part of our family now” Steve says and there are mumbled of agreement from around the table. You smile shyly at everyone. 

“I’ll speak to you individually about specific tasks but for now, let’s eat and welcome y/n to the family!” 

You all tuck in to the food cooked by Vision and Wanda, and the group tell you stories about things they’ve gotten up to in the past. Steve explains to you about how he and Peter first met. About how he’d stolen Captain America’s shield and you can’t believe they’re talking about the same Peter who was so afraid to speak to a MJ. 

“Hey where is the kid? Shouldn’t he be here?” Steve asks.

“He had to head home to his aunt, she doesn’t know about the whole Spider-Man thing” Tony explains.

You don’t know how Peter has managed to keep such a massive secret from everyone, especially his Aunt May! You feel sad for him having to tell so many lies but you completely understand why he does. 

— — — —

After dinner the group splits off to do their own things and one by one you see Tony go round speaking to them. You’re in the kitchen washing dishes when Natasha joins you, picking up a towel to dry the dishes. 

“This all must be really weird for you right” she says smiling at you.

“Just a bit” you smile back.

“How are you doing? Honestly.” She asks.

“Honestly?” You pause “I’m terrified. This guy was following me for weeks, planning to use me as his guinea pig. And I had no idea. When I think about what could have happened if Peter hadn’t arrived when he did, or if they had over powered him..” 

“You have to let go of the ‘what ifs’” Natasha says “if you spend your life focusing on what could happen, you’ll get so paralysed by fear that never do anything. That’s no life.” 

“Glad to see you two are getting to know each other” Tony says coming over to stand on the other side of you. “Romanoff, I have a job for you.”

“There’s a surprise” she responds sarcastically, smirking at you 

“You’re going to be training y/n, every day. Teach her to fight and most importantly to defend herself. We need to be prepared for all circumstances”

Natasha nods. Tony picks up a dirty plate.

“you know we have a dishwasher right?” He says and you sigh, flicking water at him. Natasha bursts out laughing. Tony gives her a look and she nods before walking off to join Clint on the sofa. 

“Come with me” he says taking your hand. He leads you out onto a balcony away from everyone else. You look up at the sky, you can see how full of stars it is now you’re not in the city. It’s beautiful. 

“I have something for you” he hands you a bag, which you open and immediately recognise the item inside. 

“My sketchbook!” You gasp in delight “how did you-?”

“I went back to your apartment this afternoon to see if I could find anything about the men who broke in, and I found that under the sofa. Don’t worry, I didn’t show Steve what’s inside.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head, laughing.

“Are you ever going to stop teasing me about that?”

“I’ll think about it” he laughs, “maybe if you put my face in that book of yours..?” 

You stare up at him, studying his face. 

“I don’t think I could” 

Tony looks confused. 

“See I draw Steve’s face because it’s basically perfect” 

“Oh thanks” Tony interrupts, sarcastically offended.

“No, I mean because that makes it easy to capture him. But you...” You put your hand on his cheek, staring into his eyes “There’s something about your face, I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

“im old” Tony jokes.

“no! Theres a look in your eyes, I don’t know if I could get it right.”

He smiles slightly and you lean in and kiss him softly. 

When you pull away Tony smirks at you. 

“So what you’re saying is my face is too beautiful?” He jokingly asks and you laugh, using your sketchbook to hit him on the arm. 

“Ow! Hey save that for your training with Nat tomorrow. Speaking of, you better get yourself to bed, she likes to train early.” Tony says, walking with you back inside the building. You nod. 

“Thanks Tony. For everything, not just the sketchbook.”

“Goodnight y/n” 

He watches as you start walking down a corridor. 

“You’re going the wrong way” he shouts and you turn around, walking the other way.

“I’m new here! Give me a break!” 

Part Seven

Taglist: @brownbuble, @star-trek-is-my-lifesource, @shookie-shookie​, @thebuckysoldier​, @chai--chae​

[comingtothetree23]

Homecoming (Peter Parker X Reader)

A Sequel to ‘A Film By Peter Parker’

You laid in your bed staring at the ceiling, silently wishing to stay home instead of going to homecoming. 

You and Peter haven’t exactly been talking lately. Ever since Tony took both of yours suits. You tried, Oh boy did you try! But you both decided to maybe just avoid each other for a bit, which is gonna be hard since you both have the same friend group. You groaned as you felt your phone buzz.

MJ: You coming?

MJ: I know for a fact you don’t have anything else to do

MJ: If I’m going your coming with!

You sighed as you dropped your phone, Michelle is the only one who knows about (H/C) well except Peter of course.You would call her your ‘Guy In The Chair’ but that’s Ned for peter. 

Peter told you once Ned found out about Peter but Ned didn’t know about you same with MJ. MJ knew about you but not Peter but your sure she would find out soon. You sigh and texts her beck

You: Yea, Yea, yea! I’ll be there!

MJ: Good. See you there, Loser.

You let out a small chuckle as you stood up to get dressed. You put on your (F/C) dress and did a little spin in front of the mirror. You smiled at you styled hair and cute dress that matched your shoes. 

“Now or never.” You sighed before smiling and walking out of your room to go to the Homecoming dance. You made sure to avoid all the people moving your home away

~~

“Can’t believe you got to to actually come.” Mj states as you two stood in front of the school, watching the people walk in or talk to their friends 

“honestly me too, But hey you look nice!” You smile as you pointed to her Homecoming dress. It wasn’t anything too big but it was still nice. 

“And that matters?” Mj raises an eyebrow at you

“You know what I mean, man!” You smiled and crossed your arms in front of you and looked away from her. You looked back at her as you felt her nudge you

“Hey look, It’s Parker.” You followed where she was pointing and saw Peter in a car with Liz. You looked away for a second before looking back. You knew Peter asked Liz to the dance and you didn’t mind it at all...at the time.

You looked over at who was driving and your stomach dropped. You looked over at Mj and held a tight smile which she noticed

“What’s wrong?” She asks with a sigh, she already got use to either your excuses or something happening. She can always tell by that look.

“Okayokayokay!” You started putting an arm around MJ and pointing to the car, “You know who is driving that car!?”

“Liz’s dad?”

“Yes! A.K.A. The guy with the wings! Me and Spider-man saw his face and that ” You pointed to the dad, “Is HIM!” 

“good job you figured it out, more importantly, “ she put both of her hands on your shoulders, “What are you going to do about it?” 

“I- I don’t know.” You put in heel of your hand on your forehead in thought, “I mean he’s right there! With Peter and I don’t know! I mean I could probably track him down but then I’ll have to put my phone in there, unless I’ll just fly over there using my air but then...” You started to ramble making Michelle roll her eyes more

“Okay, I shouldn’t have asked. look (Y/n),” you looked at her, “You’ve been so stressed lately and you deserve a break. Whats a better break then making fun of people at Homecoming?” She smirked at you as you let out a soft chuckle

“Okay, okay, I’ll do but I need to do something first.” Mj have you a look, “a non-Vulture thing.” 

“Fine. See you in there, Nerd.” She nudged your shoulder before walking in the dance, leaving you alone.

“Now what’s this guys deal?” You mutter as you hide behind a bush with your purse to watch. You pull out some binoculars and watches the two from the car.

Your eyes widen as you noticed the gun, you were about to read their lips when suddenly you heard

“(Y/N) (M/N) (L/N)!”

You let out a small screeched and looked behind you to see MJ standing there with her hands on her hips

“What did I say!?”

“I needed a break.” You sighed and put the binoculars back into your purse. MJ grabbed your arm and you both went into the dance.

A little bit later, You and MJ were just eating the food and joking around. You saw Peter only once and that was like two minutes ago. The same time you saw Liz sniffling.

You frown and look over at MJ, who just shrugged at you. You sighed and pushed down your jealousy of her and walked over to her.

“Hey Liz, Are you okay?” You put a hand on her shoulder as you looked at her.

“Peter just d-ditched me.” Liz mumbled as she tried to control her tears that threatened to fall. 

“Of course it did.” you muttered to yourself with a eye roll, “Well who needs him? C’mon your a beautiful and smart girl who needs a guy to have fun. You can hang out with us if you want.” You motioned to yourself and Mj who just kinda stood there.

“Y-yea that sounds fun.” Liz smiled at you which you returned.

And for the next couple of minutes you spent with Liz and MJ and you all had fun. You were now dancing when you Noticed Ned coming out of the computer room with one of your teachers.

“Guy in the chair...” you muttered to yourself as you finally realized where Peter went, “H-hey I gotta go!” you yelled to the two females. Mj gave a nod while Liz gave you a look

“Where are you going?” she asked 

“I have a phone call. Don’t worry about me! Enjoy your night, Have fun!” You smiled as she gently pushed her to the dance floor. She gave you a smile before going back to dancing.

You stood there with a smile for a moment before running off. As you ran through the halls you took off your heals and through them at the wall. You ran until you reached the doors and you ran out quickly.

You frown as you noticed the busted bus, ‘This isn’t working!’ you thought to yourself before jumping and using your air magic-thingy to start flying toward the now noticeable flying plane.  

As you flew you noticed a bunch of debris, You frown as it started to move. Your eyes widen as you saw who was there

“Spidey!” You dropped down as you heard Peter’s voice 

“Come on, Spider-Man!“ You slowly walk over to the voice, not knowing what to expect

Peter finally frees himself from the debris and gets up amongst rubbles.

“(Y/n)!” Peter finally noticed you and ran over to you tackling you in a hug, “I’m so sorry I’ve been to distant lately! It’s just seeing you reminded me of all the time we had as Spider-man and (H/n) and-oh god!” Peter seemed to remember something as he grabbed your shoulders and shook you gently, “(Y/n), It’s moving day! Toomes is planing to-”

“Rod the plane!” You both say in sync. You both spots Vulture perching on top of a stripped billboard. You both looks at each other and nods.

You both hid as you see the Vulture prepare to go while talking to someone. Vulture checks behind him but misses Spider-Man, who is hanging from a web attached to his back. Peter held you closer to him as the Vulture finally looks away. 

“Woah!”

As Vulture goes higher and higher up, the night view of New York City gets smaller and smaller under yours and Peter’s feet. You frown as you hold onto Peter tighter. 

Vulture flies to the bottom of the plane and holds on. Peter bumps into the plane a few times, but manages to grab onto it

“be careful!” You hiss and you grab into the plane

“Oh, my god! Oh, my god!“ Peter holds onto the plane tighter

Vulture puts the matter phase shifter on the plane, creating a small rectangular window, and moves inside. Peter tries to follow Vulture, but loses his grip and almost falls off the plane.

“Spidey!” You yelp as you reach and grabs a hold of his hand and pulls him back onto the plane. Peter let’s out a sigh of relief as he got his grip again, “Wish we knew what they were saying.” you muttered to Peter. Who just shrugged, Super hearing.

Vulture walks to the front and rips out the door. The cockpit is empty. Outside,  Spider-Man is crawling down the plane. He must have been caught the cloaking cameras. He approaches the wing suit and tries to open it. Vulture connects a device to the plane

A small drone is launched out from the wing suit, startling Peter. You just froze as you watched what it was doing. Vulture manipulates the cockpit dashboard, piloting the plane off track

Peter is still struggling to open the wing suit. He groans as he looks over at you

“Have any ideas, (H/n)?” 

“Air maybe?” You frown as you tried blowing air on it right as  Peter kicks Vulture’s wing suit and pushes it aside a bit. The air pressure inside the cabin drops, activating the alarm. Vulture checks an external monitor and realizes that you and Peter has followed him. He growls in anger

Vulture comes out and puts on his wing suit. Peter tries to hang onto the airplane, you groan and hit your head against the plane. You should have stayed at Homecoming

“Just a typical homecoming on the outside of an invisible jet... Fighting my girlfriend’s dad.“ Peter groaned as he holds on

“Oh you wish!” you let out a small chuckle as Peter looks at you, “Shes pissed! You just ditched her at Homecoming, Your lucky if that counted as a date!”

“Okay, okay I get it.” Peter rolled his eyes, at least you assumed he did. He was still wearing a mask

Vulture comes at him and takes out panels right above his head. Peter shoots his web at Vulture. Peter is now suspended in air, one hand holding onto the web sticking to the plane, another hand holding onto the web glued to Vulture. The webs snap off and Peter is sucked in towards the engines.

“Oh, god!“ You heard Peter yell from where you were.

He shoots his web to stop the propellers. Vulture, who was also dragged to the engines, escapes death, but his wing suit is a bit damaged. Hanging onto propeller blades laced with spiderweb, Peter sighs in relief

“that worked!?” You yell at Peter, he is so lucky right now

“I know right!?”

Suddenly, the propeller falls off. Peter avoids the crisis by holding onto the plane and kicking the propeller off his body. Vulture flies back and attacks Peter. Peter avoids them, but Vulture keeps coming at him. The impact sets one of the engines on fire. Peter clings onto the side of the engine with a thin strand of web

Vulture suddenly hisses as he felt his arm being burned. He looks over to see You, one hand holding onto the plane the other has a ball made out of fire in your hand

“Weather-Girl.” He mutters angrily to himself, now knowing what his other problem looks like.

“Wow, That’s my name for you? That sucked!” You let out a small chuckle at him. 

Now, instead of aiming for Peter he’s aiming for you, which you didn’t mind. Peter needed to find a better way to hold onto the Plane. You hiss as you felt blood going down your shoulder.

Vulture sets to break open the ceiling of the plane. Still hanging from the engine, Peter sees the plane flying straight at the city

“Oh, my god.“ You and Peter muttered in sync

Peter shoots his web at the right wing of the plane and pulls on it to change the plane’s direction. On the streets, passersby watch the plane flying overhead. Vulture tears open the ceiling and holds a box in his claws. You frown as you watch him before throwing more fire at him.

“Please turn! Please turn! (Y/n) Help!” Peter continues to struggle with the plane.

“yea, yes.” You say as you try using air to blow the plane in the right direction.

The plane narrowly misses crashing into the city and heads toward Coney Island. Instead of escaping, Vulture tries to hold onto a box. You gasps before letting go of the plane and jumps onto the beach.

“Please no one be here! Please say no one’s here.” You mutters to yourself as you look around the beach for anyone. When you saw no one you turned toward the plane and realized it’s too close.

The plane hits a ride and crash-lands on the beach of Coney Island. Peter loses hold of the plane and rolls down the beach. Everything is consumed in smoke and flames. Peter slowly gets up and takes off his mask. His ears are ringing. He has just staggered up to his feet when, suddenly, Vulture flies toward him and attacks him. Sparks fly from Vulture’s wings; it is clear that he has suffered some serious damage, too

“Hey! Leave him alone!” You suddenly run over to Peter and takes a hold of his arm, helping him stand.

“Hey, Pedro.“ The Vulture smirks at Peter, You look over at Peter with a confused look making Peter shake his head, “Already moved on from my daughter? That’s quick and with Weather-Girl of all people?” 

“I have a name!” 

Vulture continues to attack Peter. Peter shoots his web, but misses and gets pinned to the ground like a bird of prey. Vulture slaps you away and puts a foot on your back and puts pressure on it, making you yelp.

 Peter screams as Vulture grabs him tightly with his claws and rains down punches at him. When Peter grabs Vulture’s fist to prevent another blow, Vulture flies up and lets go of him.

 Peter avoids serious injury by shooting a strand of web and holding on to Vulture, but Vulture cuts it off and throws him to the ground. 

He then slams Peter into the ground a few times. Peter flips onto his back in a sluggish way, then looks up at Vulture, who picks him up by the hood of his Spider-Man costume. Vulture is holding Peter there, studying his limp body, when he spots a crate

“Bingo.“ 

Vulture lets go of Peter, takes his goggles off, and grabs the crateful of arc reactors. Sparks rain down from his wing suit when he tries to lift the crate, but Vulture does not stop. He hisses again as hes hit with another fireball

“Do you have any other tricks!?” He yells as he turns to look at you, who held a smirk

“Yea, I do actually.” You stomp on the ground and a good chuck of earth flies up as you kick it toward Vulture. He groans as the rock hit’s him, he growls as he looks at you.

You have seen hurt during this fight too, just not as bad as Peter. Your hair was a big mess it’s dirty, in knots, and a tiny bit burnt. Your dress is now ripped and disgusting and your shoes and long gone by now. your face is dirty and covered in soot while your arms and legs are covered in small cuts while your shoulder is bleeding. 

“Your wing suit. Your wing suit’s gonna explode!“ Peter’s voice rang out making both you and the vulture look at him. You look back at the vulture to see that the suit is indeed about to explode.

Lifting his weary arm, Peter shoots a strand of web at the crate and pulls with all his might. You quickly run behind Peter to help, You hold into his waist as you help him pull. A tug of war ensues

“Time to go home, Kids.“ Toomes smirks at the two teens.

“We’re trying to save you!“ 

“Listen to us!”

Vulture cuts the web with his wing and tries to fly off. Peter presses the button on his web shooter, but it doesn’t work. He looks up to see the wing suit failing and covers his head. Vulture drops to the ground along with his wing suit. An explosion consumes him. You gasps and covers both you and Peter with a wall of rocks, hopefully covering you two from the explosion.

After a moment of silence, you lower the rocks back into the earth were they belong.

“No.“ 

You stand up and looks around at the flames Peter struggles up and runs into the flames.

“Peter, let me help!” You ran after him and lowering the flames around you two.

 Peter spots Toomes and tries to lift the wing suit off him, but screams as he makes contact with hot metal. However, he doesn’t give up. He picks the wing suit up, finds Toomes, and carries him away from the flames. You quickly following, helping stop the flames...or most of them. 

 Peter lays Toomes down on the beach. Wheezing and coughing from the smoke, Toomes looks up at Peter, who returns his gaze. 

“Ya’ll we look awful.” You wheeze a little as you look over at Peter. You both nod and give each other a hug. 

a tiny bit later, The flames have died out a little. A search party is scouring the beach. Happy finds Vulture tied to a pile of crates with spiderweb. Happy raises a brow as he noticed and burn marks and a red mark. A note is attached beside him: “FOUND FLYING VULTURE GUY. SPIDER-MAN AND (H/N). P.S. SORRY ABOUT YOUR PLANE.” Happy raises his head and looks around as if searching for someone

Fire engines pass by the Cyclone, Peter is sitting on top of it. You are leaning against his stomach, between his legs. Your eyes are closed but Peter knows your awake. Peter sighs as he wraps his arms around your waist and rests his chin on top of your head, He closes his eyes, wounded and weary. 

~~

Midtown High. Students are taking down a homecoming banner. Below it, You, Ned and Peter walk down the corridor

“It looked so insane. That whole... Like, it was just crazy. He, he was just like, ‘Zzzz,’ and you were like, ‘Ah!’“ Ned exclaims, Ned thinks you just know that Peter is Spider-man. He says you two are FOS which was good, You didn’t need anymore people knowing who you are.

“Shh.“ Peter tries to shush him but knows it won’t work by this point.

“And then I just hit him with the “pew.” It was so, oh, my god.“ Ned finishes with a smile

“You saved me. It was awesome.“ Peter smiles at his best friend

“Good to know you can handle this kind of things.” When Peter gives you a confused look you laugh a little, “You know things for the little guy. That the avengers don’t do.” Peter looks at you for a second before smiling at you softly. 

“Yea...”

Suddenly you run ahead of them, Peter spots Liz at the end of the corridor. . Her mom is walking beside her with a box full of her belongings. Betty runs to Liz and hugs her. You stop to a slow walk as you neared her, Liz gives you a smile as you two hug tightly. Peter runs toward them

“Thank you for a good Homecoming, (Y/n).” Peter hears Liz say to you

“Of course Liz.” you two let go of the hug and smiles, “You deserve a good Homecoming.”  

“Hey, Liz!“ Liz waits for Peter, wiping tears off her face, they both turn toward you for a second asking you something with their eyes

“I’ll let you two talk.” You snap in a direction before walking in the direction. You smile as you hear Peter’s small giggle.

~~

 In the library, Mr. Harrington brings the Decathlon trophy to a table of students

“Congratulations, Decathlon national champions.“ you all start to clap, “I’m gonna have to put this back in the trophy case soon, but just for motivation right now at this practice. I’m a little ahead of the game, but we will need a new team captain next year. So I’m appointing Michelle.“

The students turn to Michelle and clap, You smile and shakes her a little by her shoulder

“Uh, thank you. My friends call me M.J.“ You give a smirk as you look at her, which she rolls her eyes

“I thought you didn’t have any friends.“ You look toward Ned and gives him a offended look with a smol offended noise.

“Well, I have one before. But now I have more.” MJ looks over to you with a small smile before looking over to the class

Peter’s cell phone vibrates. He picks the broken phone up and reads a message from an unknown number: “Go to the bathroom.” After a moment another message appears: “Bring your girlfriend.” 

“(Y/n), W-we gotta go.” you gives him a confused look but then he nods and you immediately sits up.

“Oh yea. Let’s go!” You took his arm and went to leave

“Hey, where you going?“ You turn to look at MJ who asked the question. You give her a confused look before realizing she was talking to Peter. 

You cross your arm with a smirk as Peter freezes as he thinks of an excuse. Michelle stares at him, eyes filled with suspicion

“ What are you hiding, Peter?“ Peter’s lips open, but no sound comes out. Suddenly, a grin breaks out on Michelle’s face, “ I’m just kidding. I don’t care. Bye.” she gives you a wave before she says to Decathlon team, “All right, so we should run some drills.” 

You let out a soft giggle as Peter puts a hand on his hear, trying to calm himself down.

“Calm down, Pete.” You nudge his arm as you two walk to the bathroom.

“I can’t! I thought she figured us out! She’s a smart girl!” 

“I know that! She’s my best friend. Or my ‘Guy in the chair’!” You close your eyes and put a hand on your chest with a proud smile

“What!?”

“What!? You told Ned and I needed to a friend to tell. and Who’s a better friend then Michelle Jones!” You defended as you raises your arms, Peter just rolls his eyes as he holds the bathroom door open for you

you both open the door to see Happy waiting for you two.

“Hey, Happy. What, uh... What are you doing here?“ Peter asks as you two walked closer to him. Happy gives you two a smile

“I really owe you two one. I don’t know what I would do without this job. I mean, before I met Tony-”

A toilet flushes and cuts him off. They awkwardly stand there as Tiny McKeever comes out, washes his hands, wipes them, and leaves the bathroom, throwing a long, confused glance at them mostly you. Finally:

“So, uh, how long you been here?“ Peter asks the question you both have been wondering. 

“Long enough to be awkward.” Happy answered, making you nod your nod at him, “Boss wants to see you two.”

“Is he here?” Peter whispers while pointing to a stall.

“God I hope not.” You muttered as you look at the stalls, “This is already awkward enough.”

“In the toilet? No, he’s upstate.“ 

“Upstate? Like, upstate-upstate?“ Peter asks, you nodded knowing that’s where you guys moved.

“Yeah, let’s go.“ Happy started leaving the bathroom.

You and Peter walked next to each other and you two smiled at each other, not realizing you two were holding hands.

Inside Happy's car. Dashboard display says: “You may take your hands off the steering wheel.”

“Take a look. It’s pretty impressive, huh?“

Outside the window, we see the New Avengers Facility, your new home. 

“They just finished remodeling the whole thing.“ Happy explains to you two, like you didn’t know it was finished.

Peter studies the facility with an awed expression. We see the reflection of a Quinjet taking off.

Inside the compound, Peter watches a Quinjet fly off with a huge grin. You were looking around the whole place, it wasn’t that bad actually.

“You don’t see that every day.“ Happy says while looking at you two

“Unless you live here.” You stated watching as Tony walks over to you guys.

“ Oh, there they are. How was the ride up?“ Tony asks as he looks at all of you

“good.”

“give me a minutes with the kids.” Tony says to Happy, making you and Peter look at each other

“Serously?” Happy asks

“Yeah. I gotta talk to the kids.” Tony shrugged at his friend

 “I’ll be close behind.” Happy nodded

“How about a loose follow? All right? Boundaries are good.” You give a awkward look before you look away from them

Tony playfully punches Peter in the shoulder, and ruffles your hair before  an arm around both of your shoulders

“Sorry I took your suits. I mean, you had it coming. Actually, it turns out it was the perfect sort of tough-love moment that you needed, right? To urge you on, right? Wouldn’t you think? Don’t you think?” Tony asks you two while you all walk forward

“Yeah, yeah, I guess.” Peter gives a small shrug not knowing what to say

“I hate it say it but yes.” You groan not wanting to say that he was right

“Let’s just say it was.”

Tony sighs and continues leading you two towards a door.

“Mr. Stark, I really-” Peter started but got cut off

“You screwed the pooch hard. Big time. But then you did the right thing. Took the dog to the free clinic, you raised the hybrid puppies... All right, not my best analogy.”

“Knowing you it could have been better, Mr. Stark.” there was a moment where you all just stood there

“I was wrong about you two. I think, with a little more mentoring, you could be a real asset to the team. Both of you.” Tony smiled at you and Peter. You gives him a big smile

“To the... To the team?” Peter realized and that made you look at Him before slowly turning to tony

“I-is that true?”

 “Yeah. Anyway... “ he points at a door, “There’s about fifty reporters behind that door. Real ones, not bloggers.” You both nodded and you had to cover your mouth not to giggle at that last part

He presses some buttons on his watch and a secret compartment in the wall opens, revealing a brand new Spider-Man suit, the Iron Spider Armor. Next to it was a shiny brand new suit for you two. You gasp and cover your eyes as you see it

 “When you’re ready... Why don’t you try that on?” Tony started looking at the suit, “And I’ll introduce the world to the two newest official members of the Avengers: Spider-Man and (H/n).”

 “I...” Peter chuckles, amazed.

“You...You really....” You started following Peter and moving closer to the suits

 “Yeah. Give that a look.”

Peter continues to admire the Iron Spider Armor while you looked at your suits

“So, after the press conference, Happy will show you to your room, your new quarters. (Y/n) you’ll just keep the same room you have” he then says to Happy, “Where’s he between? He’s next to Vision?”

“Yeah, Vision’s not big on doors.” Happy warned looking in Peter’s direction

 “It’s fun.”

“Or walls.” Happy added

“No matter how much you tell him” You added too, finally looking away from the suit.

“You’ll fit right in.” Tony smiles at you two

Peter looks at you and hesitates for a moment, You give a smile and nod before Peter turns to Tony.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. But we’re good.” You look at him shocked before giving him a soft smile

“You’re good? Good? How are you good?”

 “Well, I mean, I’m... I’d rather just stay on the ground for a little while. Friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Somebody’s got to look out for the little guy, right?” When eh said that lats part he looked over at you, meeting your eyes

Tony takes off his sunglasses and stares into Peter’s eyes.

“You turning me down? You better think about this.” pointing at the new Spider-Man suit, “Look at that. Look at me. Last chance, yes or no?”

“No.”

“What about you, (Y/n)?” Tony looks over at you, “Are you good too?”

“Well, if my partner good when we’re good.” You look at him with a smile as you add, “Simple as that.”

“Okay. It’s kind of a Springsteen-y, working class hero vibe that I dig. Uh, Happy will take you home. Yeah?”

“Yeah. “ he says to Peter, “Mind waiting in the car? I need a minute.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Stark.” Peter smiles as he looks at Tony 

“Yes, Mr. Parker. Very well.” Tony and Peter shake hands.

 “See you around.”

 “Okay.”

Peter starts to leave with a spring in his step, but then slows to a stop and turns to Tony, who is putting the Iron Spider Armor and yours new suit away with a tap on his watch.

 “That was a test, right? There’s, uh, nobody back there?” Peter asks making you all look at him

 “Yes, you passed. All right, skedaddle there, young buck.” You look over at tony with a smirk

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. Thank you.”

“Yeah, thank you.” Peter walks away.

 “Told you he’s a good kid.” Happy smiles as he says to Tony.

“Can I talk to Peter for a moment?” You ask the two adults, making them smirk to each other.

“Yea, go talk to your ‘partner’.“ Tony says making you give him a look before running after Peter

“You know, They would be adorable together.” Happy says looking over at Tony as they watch you off

“yea....They would.” he started before they both hear a door open.

~~

“Hey, Pete! Wait up!” You raise an hand as you run over to the boy.

“hey (Y/n), Whats up?” Peter looks over at you with a smile.

“Wow, You got balls, Peter. turning down Tony Stark! Whoo!” You let out a breathe with a smile before looking at Peter with a smile

“You turned him down too, you know.” Peter watches you with a smile while you gain your breathe

“yea, but that’s only because of you.” You gave a small jab at his chest, “But you know, its for the best.” You smile at the floor.

“Yea.” was all that peter said. You look up to see that Peter was staring at you intensely.

“Pete? You alright?” You asks as you swore you saw him look at your lips.

“Yea, yea. Is it alright if I do something?” That made you confused but you didn’t think much of it.

“Uh, Sure?”

He suddenly cups your cheeks making you look at him, you start to blush as you look in his brown eyes. God you loved his eyes, well you loved all of him. You felt his lips on yours and you stood there for a moment, before smiling and kissing back. You put your arms around his neck and pulls him closer.

“W-was that alright?” Peter asks once you two stopped kissing but you kept your forehead on his.

“It was amazing, Pete.” you look at him to see him smiling.

“I know this may be too soon to ask but will you be my-”

“yes. Yes I would.” You finished, you didn’t need to hear him finish, you knew a while ago you wanted to date the adorable boy.

“Good, That’s... Good.” He started before kissing you on the lips again. 

[love-and-anarchy-au]

Love & Anarchy: Chapter 19

happy fridayyyyy!!! i might be happy, but im actually having a super sore throat and i cant talk properly (i dont complain tho xd). plenty of things are going on in my life: the congress is debating on free, legal and safe abortion for everyone, im having many projects going on and idk, im just exhausted but happy :) this chapter is gay, but its all to explain this headcanon we (reneweys) have on ace’s sexuality. please enjoy this piece of gay vibes. have a nice dayyy <3

REMEMBER THIS AU HAPPENS IN THE SAME UNIVERSE THAT THIS ONE

Find out what this AU is about here

Masterlist

Tag list: @healing-winston-pratt @dawniebb @obsidianfr3sk @nodrianbcyes @everyone-has-a-nightmare @magykaldealings @nobellrenaissance @cerenoya @cassin-the-assasin @cindersnightmare

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Words:

8,360

Part 2: A teen named Ace Artino

16 years old Alec

“Isn't this lovely?”

    “It is.”

   ��Alec and James were lying on the ground in their schoolyard, staring at the sky. The schoolyard was a corpse that was set apart from the building, but still a part of it. Technically, they weren't allowed to enter that part of the school grounds, but Alec and James didn't care, and they teleported there without any remorse in their consciences. The sky was so blue and so vast seen from below, without the great buildings standing in the way. The trees were beautiful, with vibrant and lively crowns. The leaves whispered secrets when the wind blew through them.

    Alec and James were stuck like flesh and nail, at that moment and since Alexandra's death. In the hallways, people whispered when they passed, whispering gossip, lies, insults. Neither Alec nor James cared. Some of those rumors were true...but not completely.

    Anyways, nobody cared, not really. Alec and James were beaming when they were together, but there would always be something missing.

    Alexandra, the embodied rebellion. Free as a spider, brave as the fire that burned her to ashes. She was the emptiness between Alec and James, the blank trying to be fulfilled, though it was impossible. 

    Her absence would always be tangible when they went to the beach.

    That was why they didn't go.

    Don’t forget me, maybe ...?

    It wasn't that they had forgotten her; it was that her absence was more painful than the fact that their life expectancy was thirty years, without her rebellious Alexandra.

    They missed her.

    But they tried not to think about her.

    They couldn't bear the pain.

    James sighed loudly, bringing Alec back to reality, to the present. Alec turned to look at him and he turned too. Alec smiled sadly and allowed James to anticipate what he was going to say.

    “I miss her.”

    James also smiled, sad.

    “Me too. That’s why we are doing this: planning how to destroy this society as they destroyed Alexandra,” he reminded him and crawled close to Alec until he was touching Alec's with his ribs. He took with his long, thin fingers one of the boy's hair strands and fiddled with it.

    “You could rule this world, Ace. You are one step away from being a God and avenging Alexandra. Your sister. Everyone,” James whispered near Alec's ear.

    Alec looked James in the eye, those cloudy gray eyes so full of memories and other eyes darker and brighter. That was Alec's favorite physical characteristic: the eyes, the windows to the soul. The color of a person's eyes said a lot about themselves; Alexandra's honey eyes were as sticky as her gaze, the clouds that covered James' irises, the darkness that camouflaged Alec's pupils. Their glances were drawn like magnets. Centimeters, millimeters, nothing: that was what separated them.

    “No, I couldn't. Not without you,” Alec replied, with a humble smile. “You are the mastermind of this whole thing,” he explained and posed with his mind a flower from one of those trees in James' hair. He laughed and gently took the flower, placing it on Alec's hair.

    “We can do it. We must do it,” James said, stroking Alec's hair, tousling it. What it was for James to play with his friends' hair was for Alec to decipher people by looking into their eyes. However, at that moment he was focused on his lips and  his cheeks, as they were both on fire and saying 'please'.

    Just like magnets ...

    “That's what we've said since ever,” Alec said with an Alexandra-like smile on his lips. James smiled too. Eyes on lips, lips on eyes.

    “That's why we have to do it now,” James stated and blinking, his lashes fluttered in an infinitely attractive movement. Alec was mesmerized by that move. James looked up at the sky. Alec kept looking into his eyes, the windows to the soul of that enigmatic and attractive being.

    “How?” Alec asked, blicking. James returned his eyes to Alec.

    “Leroy Flinn,” James replied, smiling. Alec had never seen him happier saying a name, not even his own. A need he didn't know he had throbbed in his throat.

    “Whom?” Alec asked again, and leaned closer to James.

    “He's a 12th-year student who is supposed to be a prodigy, who somehow knows who they are. With him and his data, we could recruit prodigies  and set them free. Set us free,” James explained, in a voice made of dreams and expectations. His tone dripped with hope, something very strange and therefore genuine about James.

    “You talk like it's a walk in the park,” Alec sighed, frustrated. He wanted that releasing prodigies, that vedetta, was as easy as James preached so badly ...

    “It is,” James insisted, sitting on his elbows, motivated by his powerful ideas like a fire in the middle of a drought. “We are prodigies, we are powerful, we are invincible. Nothing can’t stop us but ourselves. And we won’t. We’ve been mistreated for too long. It’s time to stop this genocide and reclaim the rights we deserve. We are both prodigy and human, and we must not stop fighting until we are no longer murdered on the streets.”

    James spoke that speech with such passion, with such fervor, that it was impossible not to believe him. There was something about it that was just irresistible. He looked like a god, with the sunlight highlighting his dark, tangled hair, making his gray eyes shine, and his voice confident and sure that only an idiot would doubt him.

    Alec couldn't take it anymore.

    He took James's shirt and brought his face close to his. He had never felt what he felt at that moment, not with Alexandra, not with anyone ...

    I know someone that hasn’t made up his mind about his sexuality…

    Was he that someone? He loved Alexandra but he never felt such attraction to her, and he felt guilty about what he was going to do, though she had once said she shipped him and James.

    Centimeters, millimeters, nothing: that was what separated their lips.

    “Just do it,” James asked and closed his eyes.

    Alec obeyed and placed his lips on James', waiting for a spark, for a feeling, for something so powerful and unique that you couldn’t find anywhere else but a kiss.

    But no.

    It was just that.

    Nothing else.

    Lips on lips.

    No feeling.

    Just that action of kissing another person.

    He wanted ... he wanted to feel something but ... he felt nothing.

    No repulsion. No attraction.

    Skin on skin.

    Only that.

    He wanted to scream. When he had finally been attracted to someone and genuinely wanted to kiss him ... it was nothing more than an illusion.

    He parted his lips from James', trying not to be too abrupt  or give himself away.

    And it dawned on him.

    He wasn't attracted to James, he was attracted to  James’ power...

    He was so frustrated.

    He backed away a little further, and looked at the ground, embarrassed.

    What an idiot I am.

    James smiled sadly. Alec couldn't hide, not from him.

    “I know,” he said.

    And he hugged Alec.

    “I'm sorry. I shouldn't …” Alec apologized.

    “You don't have any reasons to be sorry. At least I enjoyed it,” James comforted  him and Alec laughed, feeling a little better. He looked into his eyes as always, and felt endless relief to see how nothing had changed in his gaze; there was only more brightness.

    They laid down on the grass again, without any resentment between them and being pretty sure that Alexandra had watched that passionless kiss.

    Alec sighed and a band of leaves fluttered over them, art of Alec's fiery power (the kind of he did have). James tried to catch them with his teleportation, Alec wouldn't let him; it was a training they had between them; when Alexandra was still alive, she would make spiders chase them as another obstacle. Without her, it always seemed that something was missing, a hypos, sticky and sarcastic element...

    That absence was irreplaceable. No one and nothing would bring her back.

    But he could do something.

    Not letting the world forget her.

    For what he finally announced:

    “Let's do it.”

    James frowned in disbelief. Was he referring to what he thought he was referring to..?

    Alec sighed and took James' knuckles between his hands, massaged them and looked into James' cloudy eyes, to ask, although it was not necessary:

    “Let’s free prodigies.”

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

The BNHA Group Chat Fic Nobody Asked For

Pairings: Todoroki Touya (Dabi)/Mr Compress (Sako Atsuhiro), Shimura Tenko (Shigaraki Tomura)/Chisaki Kai (Overhaul)/Kurono Hari (Chrono), Yamada Hizashi (Present Mic)/Aizawa Shouta (Eraserhead)/Shirakumo Oboro (Loud Cloud), Fukukado Emi (Ms. Joke)/Kayama Nemuri (Midnight), Bakugo Katsuki/Kaminari  Denki/Kirishima Eijiro, Iida Tenya/Monoma Neito/ Aoyama Yuuga

Word Count: 1,529 Words

Summary: Hitoshi goes home, an Aizawa-Yamada fashion show happens, the Todoroki-Yukimura family is having issues, and the Provisional Licensing Exam happens.

Warnings: Injury Mention, Food Mention, Cursing, Fire Mention, Trauma Mention, Arranged Marriage Mention, Caps, Half Blind Character, Deaf Characters, Mostly Mute Character (due to a different medical issue), Selectively Mute Character, let me know if I should add anything else.

Notes: Yes, I know they met The Big 3 already, but I'm rearranging and Aizawa introduced 1-A to The Big 3 before the Provisional Licensing Exam because he wanted to inspire them to achieve their best in the exam, even the L.O.V. kids. Also, the fight between Midoriya and Bakugou never happened.

Usernames: We Are Number One™ Aizawa: Dadzawa, Aoyama: immafiringmahlaser, Ashido: princessbubblegumknockoff, Asui: Galvan, Iida: Emergency Exit, Uraraka: 9.8, Ojiro: tailfloof, Kaminari: Pichu, Kirishima: baby shark, Koda: youredoingamazingsweetie, Sato: GuyFieriIsGod, Shoji: Cthulhu, Jirou: Jack Skellington, Sero: Spider-Man, Tokoyami: EdgarAllanCrows, Todoroki: WHERE?, Hagakure: cena, Bakugo: WHAT?, Midoriya: SmolMight, Mineta: Mineta, Shinsou: exhausted, Yaoyorozu: TheGreatCreator, Kurono: stopwatch, Chisaki: donthugmeimscared, Yukimura: choticgaydisaster, Bubaigawara: shadowclonejutsu, Shimura: idontfeelsogood, Awase: illrememberyouallintherapy, Kaibara: IDOWHATIWANT, Kamakiri: scyther, Kuroiro: itsmeyaboy, Kendo: Akimichi, Kodai: deadinside, Komori: shroomgurl, Shiozaki: wElCoMeToBiBlEsTuDiEs, Shishida: furry, Shoda: cryptid, Tsunotori: mylittlepony, Tsubaraba: airbender, Tetsutetsu: Iron Man, Tokage: t-rex costume, Fukidashi: glorifiedtextbubble, Honenuki: Eren Jaeger/spookyscaryskeletons, Bondo: Slimer, Monoma: HopeSummers, Yanagi: iLiEdImDyInGiNsIdE, Rin: snek, Toga: mystique, Sako: lostmymarbles, Hikiishi: queenofmagnetism, Iguchi: eye gucci, Shinokanri: stardust

Usernames: Emos Anonymous Kaminari: blackcloakedbrides, Shoji: fryingpan, Jirou: greentwentyfourhours, Tokoyami: myscientificinfatuation, Todoroki: twentyoneplotpoints, Bakugo: immobileinwhite, Midoriya: falldownboy, Shinsou: stabtheveil, Kurono: inhalecarolina, Chisaki: plummetingininverse, Yukimura: anxietyintheclub, Shimura: nappingwithsirens, Kuroiro: thousandfootcane, Kodai: marianaspit, Monoma: entiretimelow, Yanagi: recentyearsday, Sako: halfminutetomars, Aizawa: hollywoodlivingdead, Shouji: fryingpan, Kurono: inhalecarolina, Aoyama: phantomtown, Honenuki: visualizedragon, Sako: halfminutetomars, Awase: distressparade, Shinokanri: simplestrategy

Usernames: UA Teachers Are Tired™ Eraserhead/Aizawa: grumpy scarf cat, Present Mic/Yamada: screeching cockatiel, Midnight/Nemuri: chaotic goth gay Ingenium/Iida: gotta go fast, AllMight/Toshinori: actual sunshine, Vlad King/Kan: bloody hell, Power Loader/Majima: speechtotext, Ectoplasm: needalegup?, Snipe: kazoo cowboy, Cementoss: concrete block, Blackmist/Kurogiri: goth portals

Shopping, Licenses, and Interships-Chapter 7

7:45 AM

We Are Number One™

exhausted: I'm goin home today bitches! they're finally releasing back upon this pitiful world after a week!

Dadzawa: and he's getting transferred to 1a today too.

chaoticgaydisaster: do you remember who did this, Hitoshi?

exhausted: no, I wish I did, but I don't. I only get flashes. My head got hit too hard I guess but I don't remember what happened well enough to know who did it.

exhausted: can we talk about literally anything else?

WHERE?: kay. how bout, do you want to go to the store with me and Touya later? we're getting our foods for the week. we can pick you up some stuff too.

exhausted: coolio. I need to pick up some stuff.

WHERE?: tell me a list so you don't forget anything, Hito. me and Tou always write our lists down, we'll write your stuff down too.

exhausted: kay. so I need rice, eggs, onions, scallions, tsuyu sauce, beef, chicken, shrimp, and pork for my lunches and you can bet your ass I'm picking up at least two other meal things but I haven't decided yet because the rest are dinners and I need my Mom's input.

Dadzawa: today's dinner is takoyaki and gyoza, tomorrow is your choice, Tuesday is oden and tempura, Wednesday me and your Dad need to agree on, Thursday is yakisoba-pan and ramen, Friday is your choice again, and Saturday is soba and curry bread.

exhausted: Eri already picked her two dinners?

stardust: yup!

exhausted: I'd have to say Monday is soba and yakitori and Friday is okonomiyaki and korokke.

Dadzawa: News from your Dad, Wednesday will be katsudon and onigiri.

stardust: WOOHOO!

exhausted: Yayy!

exhausted: let's go shopping, bitches.

WHERE?: Woo! Shopping day!

chaoticgaydisaster: We're going to the mall also btw.

exhausted: good, I need to get more clothes, half of mine are gone because of M****a.

WHERE?: time to spend my dad's money on nice clothes for my best friend.

exhausted: I love you, dude.

WHERE?: Love you too, Hito, now, let's go shopping.

2:46 PM

We Are Number One™

Dadzawa: Ah, that's where my son went today.

exhausted: it was fun, I got new sports bras.

Dadzawa: finally, we can burn the ones that are so old they're falling apart.

exhausted: they were spares!

Dadzawa: still burning them. love you, kid.

exhausted: hey, wait for me. I wanna burn them too!

3:17 PM

Izukrew

SmolMight: Is anyone else really concerned about Hitoshi? I mean, he got attacked and he won't say anything about it.

WHERE?: Izuku, I'm concerned, but it's none of our business.

SmolMight: You know what happened, don't you?

WHERE?: I may as well. But I'm not at liberty to say and Hitoshi doesn't need this right now. He went through something traumatic and I won't have you dredging it up again yet. He deserves to have more than a week to recover.

SmolMight: He'll be fine though, right?

WHERE?: He'll be okay. He's got all his friends and we'll help him no matter what happens.

SmolMight: We'll be the best damn friends to him ever!

4:41 PM

We Are Number One™

tailfloof: what's with the radio silence from all the former L.O.V.?

Emergency Exit: Kai had an allergic reaction so Tenko and Hari are with him in the ER. Atsuhiro had a meltdown and Touya is with him, Jin got hurt during a training drill yesterday and is being healed by Recovery Girl still, Himiko and Eri are at the their doctor today, Tami is working on changing her name legally today, and Shuichi is accompanying Tami.

tailfloof: Thank you inspector Iida for this enlightening information.

6:52 PM

We Are Number One™

exhausted: Mom, fashion show. I got new clothes.

Dadzawa: I know, I'm waiting in my room, Toshi. so is your Dad, Eri, and Ayane.

exhausted: Hells yeah! Family fashion show. I got a bunch of leggings.

Dadzawa: you can't just wear leggings, Toshi.

exhausted: And yet I do.

Dadzawa: you are an insufferable little gremlin child and you're lucky that I love you.

exhausted: That's the point.

8:39 PM

Trauma? Yeet. Memes? Yoink.

lapis: So how are the girls?

vulpix: All are good, they went to the store with us for food shopping.

wine: all happy.

thermostat: Good, I was worried because we haven't seen any of you in a week.

vulpix: yup. How are things back home?

thermostat: Well, it's okay. Nothing's changed much.

wine: what happened?

thermostat: Dad's setting me up for an arranged marriage now.

lapis: time to come home and beat our father's head in.

thermostat: Please don't, I don't want any of you going to jail over this.

wine: fine, but only because I respect your choices. but I will intervene if shit goes down.

vulpix: How are you okay with this?

thermostat: I'm not, but I don't want my brothers getting in trouble for me and me having to visit you idiots in a prison instead of at a school.

vulpix: As long as you know you can come to us if anything. And I mean ANYTHING happens to hurt you.

thermostat: I will, don't worry. And I'm taking care of the girls tomorrow because of you two's exam so I'll take them to school for you boys.

8:16 AM

We Are Number One™

cena: WHO'S READY FOR THIS LICENSING EXAM!???!!!!

Cthulhu: literally everyone???

spookyscaryskeletons: Good luck, you guys!

princessbubblegumknockoff: good luck yot you guys too! have fun at y'all's exam!

exhausted: Have fun you guys!

Dadzawa: Child, you fill M****a's place. You're going to take the exam today with 1-A.

exhausted: Gimme a minute. Just a minor heart attack.

exhausted: WHAT THE FUCK!? I'm not ready! Mom, you gotta pull me from it! I can't do this!

donthugmeimscared: And all of us LOVs started at UA less than a month ago! You can't expect us to be able to pass!

Dadzawa: I'm sure you'll all be fine. I have faith in you. Now get on the bus, I'll be down with my son's present in a few minutes.

8:25 AM

We Are Number One™

cena: Todoroki is asleep again. Both of the twins are.

EdgarAllanCrows: what have I done to deserve such adorable goth best friends?

shadowclonejutsu: And I thought one twin was cute, turns out both are.

lostmymarbles: Firstly, they're IDENTICAL twins. Secondly, don't you hit on my man, Jin, or you'll lose an arm.

shadowclonejutsu: Alright, alright. Not flirting, just saying. I'm with Iggi.

eye gucci: Dam straight.

shadowclonejutsu: *Dam gay.

eye gucci: You right tho.

4:17 PM

We Are Number One™

WHERE?: I can't believe we failed.

WHAT?: It wasn't even my fault! I was a nice bastard! I didn't scare them, they're just wimps!

chaoticgaydisaster: I can't believe I need to retake that.

idontfeelsogood: I only failed because of a technicality, why are you all complaing!

Akimichi: What technicality?

idontfeelsogood: I may have blown up the rock beneath me by accident because I got startled by Gang Orca showing up and hurt one of the fake civilians a little bit...?

stopwatch: Darling.

idontfeelsogood: And then I broke my left knee and sprained my right from falling and couldn't continue to compete.

stopwatch: There we go. The fake civilians said they weren't mad, they know they startled you and it was fine, but you hurt yourself and couldn't continue so you had to be disqualified to prevent you from injuring yourself even more.

idontfeelsogood: I woulda been better as a villain. I can't even save someone without something going wrong.

Dadzawa: I already told you that you all can retake the exam soon so there's no harm done. And your legs should heal up by the time of the next exam, Tenko, don't worry. You are not better off as a villain, you do have good in you, I can see it. You're doing your best, keep doing it, and we'll all be here for you when you aren't able to.

idontfeelsogood: Hang on, I'm gonna cry really quick.

stopwatch: I am hugging my boyfriend as we speak!

donthugmeimscared: As am I!

HopeSummers: Only me and Himi failed from our class, didn't have enough power to get through it all.

Iron Man: we're all proud of you both for trying your hardest, though!

mystique: And we all appreciate your support, guys.

9:14 AM

We Are Number One™

cena: 3 of the Big Six!

mylittlepony: The other three from the Big Six are here!

cena: INTERNSHIPS!

donthugmeimscared: Great, another thing that none of us are gonna be able to do because no agency in their right mind would ever want us.

Dadzawa: I've already matched you all to agencies that would love to have you there. It's tapes to your dorm doors. Have fun picking, children. And Toshi, you're in my agency with Light Splitter and Biolumina and all of the like.

exhausted: I love my Mom. Have I ever told you all how much I love my Mom? Because it's a lot. And entire fucking lot.

Dadzawa: yes, you have. you brag your Mom is the best ever a lot. you've done it since you were about two.

exhausted: And my point still stands thirteen years later. Must be a winning arguement.

Taglist: @logan-sanders-enthusiast @luckyicekitsune @whippedbel @lgbtforeverything @pinecone-chomper @mikmacmoo @wasinotwantedatthisexactsecond @purplespiderstormcloud @stankyratman @king-of-the-oranges @headcannons-and-random-things @fear-ze-queer @turtleluv799 @ymmm-someone

[toothlessturtle21]

Cold Blooded

So as some of y’all know, I’m a fanfic author, so I figured why not publish some of my oneshots on Tumblr? So, here’s the first one in a (maybe) series of oneshots being posted. Enjoy!

---

Jay's talking gets him into a lot of trouble, sure, but when he's faced with a mob boss who wants to work with him to resurrect his dead father, his chatter might be his only weapon. (Mafia AU) (tw: kidnapping, guns, mentioned death)

All of his life, Jay had been told that his excessive blabbering was annoying. His friends and his family were not safe from the chatter, everywhere and all the time. And god forbid  that he was nervous, because butterflies in his stomach seemed to equate to words spewing from his mouth like a fountain. So when he found himself tied up and blindfolded after a nasty run-in with some gang members, what else was he supposed to do?

"So, uh, what kind of wood is the chair I'm in made of? It feels pretty strong, but I also can't see the color to make any guesses," Jay quirked his mouth, and one of the men nearby grumbled, having put up with his incessant rambling for the better part of the hour. "Is it grainy? I can't really tell through my pants, but if it is you guys should really sand it. Splinters are no joke, even if you're wearing gloves. They always wait until you're least expecting it and then ouch, there's wood in your hand."

His company was silent, perhaps hoping that he would shut up if left unanswered. After a few beats of silence, Jay tapped his feet on the floor, an uneven rhythm that was in no way musical. He tried to think of some beat to mimic that would take his mind off of his situation. He hummed some jingles, some pop songs, and even snuck a little bit of some showtunes in there before a harsh slap to the cheek stopped him, causing Jay to cry out indignantly.

"Hey, I'm just messing around! What's the big deal anyway? You guys are the ones who nabbed me off the street, why should I listen to- mmph!"

A hand was slapped over his mouth very quickly, accompanied by a sharp shh. For once, Jay decided to listen, and heard another man in the room on the phone.

"Please sir, he's driving us insane, can't we just..."

Silence for a few minutes. Jay's heart raced at the thought of there being a man higher up waiting to get his hands on him, despite his current situation already being pretty undesirable.

"Wait, really?"

Muffled words from the other side of the line were audible now, and the man with him laughed a little, obviously relieved.

"Thank you, boss! We'll get him to you right away."

And just like that, Jay was in the air, the chair he was tied to lifted by some thug, and he squawked in surprise as he was gripped roughly by strong hands, the grunts talking amongst themselves as they brought him along. Finally, they stopped, and set him down onto a tile floor, judging by the sound of the legs hitting the ground. One ripped off his blindfold, and they immediately scurried away, leaving Jay to blink his eyes like a newborn kitten to adjust to the light.

"Ah, so you're the famed Ninja of Lightning. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Walker."

Jay finally found his sight, and discovered he was in an office, of sorts. The walls were a circle, bookshelves lining the room, except for the one area where a cabinet full of guns stood. The furniture was elegant, smooth curves and a sleek black sheen to everything made for a very intimidating look.

What was even more intimidating, however, was the figure perched on top of the desk at the far back. He looked to be young, black leather clothes contrasting with his stark white hair, combed back into a feathery undercut. Clear blue eyes stared the ninja down, and Jay felt his skin crawl under the scrutiny.

"Oh, don't tell me they harmed your vocal chords on the journey over, I've heard so much about your jabber," The man slid off the desk, striding over with quiet steps. Now that Jay was closer, he was quite tall, most definitely taller than himself.

"No, they didn't," He managed to squeak out, clearing his throat afterwards. "And how do you know my name?"

"I know a lot of things," The man shrugged. "For example, I know that you were born and raised in a trash heap, your favorite food is blackberry pie, and your name is James."

"If you know so much about me," Jay's cheeks burned from hearing his birth name and from the insult towards his parents' livelihood. "Then who are you?"

The man thought for a moment before answering, almost as if questioning himself. He seemed to finally decide on an answer after a few tense moments.

"Call me Snake."

"No offense, but you don't really don't look like a Snake," Jay blurted, and the man raised an eyebrow in amusement. "I mean, you have a pretty blue, black, white color scheme going on, and snakes are usually green. You seem more like an Spider or Shark to me than a Snake. You don't give me slimy vibes."

"Thank you for the feedback," Snake nodded, stepping back a little. "I suppose I will keep that in mind for the next time I have to choose a persona to give to strangers."

"Was that a joke I heard?" Jay asked, and Snake's expression never wavered. The blonde looked at his gun cabinet for a split second before returning his gaze to his hostage.

"So, Mr. Walker, it has come to my attention that you are especially skilled in robotics, correct?"

"I mean, yeah, but-"

"What do you normally create?"

"Small robots, mostly. Y'know, can sweep things, stack bricks, charge phones, and..." Jay trailed off, mentally slapping himself. "Actually, it's none of your business what I do. You're the one who organized my kidnapping, I'm not telling you anything!"

"Hm, just as we were doing so swimmingly. Very well then," Snake walked away, returning to his desk. He once again avoided the chair, choosing to stalk Jay from his desk like a bird of prey.

"Also, consider changing your name to Falcon. Still fits better than Snake."

"I thought we had moved on from my name, James," Snake smiled amusedly. "Although Falcon does have a nice ring to it, thank you. Perhaps I will keep that one in mind."

He pulled his legs up, crossing them on his desk. It was then that Jay noticed the portrait sitting next to his knee.

"Hey, who's in the picture?"

Snake's expression darkened, and Jay's heart picked up once more at the thought of his last words being so lame.

"Perhaps you don't understand your situation. You are in no position to be asking questions, especially ones about my personal life. As far as guests go, you have been treated rather graciously, Mr. Walker. Although I do consider myself rather forgiving in the face of insubordination, I too have a limit."

Jay went quiet, at least for a few moments, but a sudden bird cry followed by a black shape swooping past his face made him shriek, and Snake laughed at his expense. He held out his arm as a black bird rested on him, and Snake gently took the note from its mouth.

"You really are quite entertaining. I might keep you just for that."

"Usually my jokes are a little more thought out than- wait, what do you mean by keep-"

"Hush, I am trying to read, James. Do be polite."

You could hear a pin drop as the man read, cool blues scanning the page. He bristled as he hit the bulk of the letter, presumably receiving bad news.

Snake scoffed, and snatched a lighter from beside him on the desk. He lit the flame, and held it up to the paper.

"Burning letters is so much safer than texting, wouldn't you agree? Plus, fire can be oh so fun to play with if done properly."

"I'm not really a big fan of fire. I guess I just don't like heat."

"I would be inclined to agree. Ice is often much more effective, anyway. It is a silent killer, with much less destruction than fire."

"Um, killer?"

"I run an organized crime ring, do you think I reached where I am by playing nice and holding hands?"

"How did you weaponize ice?" Jay asked, and then quickly backpedaled. "Uh, sorry, no questions, I'll stop."

"There are many ways, but I will indulge you with my personal favorite," Snake released his bird, the avian flying out the small window it had come in from, and stalked towards Jay. He touched a gentle hand to his bound arm, and Jay felt his breath quicken at the contact.

"I am the master of ice. Blood is half water. If I were to concentrate right now, I could freeze your veins and arteries, leaving you stiff like a doll. My ice does not melt easily, and so it creates a wonderful display if presented properly. Of course, the victim would need to be positioned correctly, but that is beside the point."

"You're sick," Jay strained against his bonds, suddenly comprehending the danger he was in. "Is killing people a game to you?"

"Not necessarily. If I kill by necessity, then deaths are quick and painless. If they have wronged me greatly, however, I enjoy watching them writhe to the best of their ability as they feel their blood freeze under my grasp."

"Then why am I here? I haven't wronged you, as far as I know, and I'm not already dead. What do you want from me?"

"I want your expertise. I am interested in your abilities. You are skilled at creating artificial life, James. While I have trained myself in many areas, capturing the essence of a living being is something I've yet to grasp."

All of a sudden, the puzzle pieces clicked in Jay's head. The color scheme, the white hair, the obsession with birds and robotics, and the ice all suddenly brought back memories that Jay forgot that he had.

"...Zane?"

The blonde smiled sadly, and then let out a small, hollow laugh.

"Ah, so you do remember. It's been a while, I know."

"Yeah, since we were toddlers."

"Are your parents well?"

"As far as I know, yeah, they're pretty good. How about your dad?"

Zane scowled, resting his chin on his hand.

"Dead. Killed in one of your little endeavors fighting Garmadon. Tasteless, really. My father deserved a death more fitting of the great mind he was than rubble crushing his body."

"I'm so sorry," Jay bit his lip, dread filling his bones. "So, uh, you're a gang leader now?"

"In a way, yes. I was already rising to power when he died, and his passing only drove me further. And now we are here," Zane gestured to the Lightning Ninja, still tied up. Jay's fingers twitched from their bound position.

"So why didn't you tell me your name off the bat?"

"What would be the point in that? None of the men under me know my name, so why I would I tell a stranger?"

"Fair, I guess. So why am I here?"

"Considering that you killed my father, I feel it is only right that you bring him back too."

"I'm the master of lightning, not a necromancer!" Jay writhed in his bonds. "And I haven't killed anyone. You're insane!"

"I'm not insane, I'm insulted you would think that way," Zane frowned. "You recall how I told you that my ice was especially cold, correct?"

"Yeah? What's that got to do with anything?"

"I have his body frozen downstairs. My ice takes an incredibly long time to melt."

"You what?" Jay shrieked. "I'm going nowhere near a frozen corpse!"

"You won't need to," Zane reassured, although his tone was anything but lenient. "I have brought you here for your mechanical skill. Together, we can bring my father back to life."

"And if I say no?"

"I have a cabinet full of guns to my side as well as the power to freeze your blood, and you're tied up at my mercy. We may have met in our earlier years, but familiarity has never stopped me from killing before."

"Uh, okay, noted," Jay said hurriedly, annoyed at himself for forgetting his situation. "So you want me to help you bring your father back to life by building him a body? But what about his memory?"

"You leave the software to me. You're here for the hardware."

"Ok, ok," Jay nodded slowly, although his mind was going a mile a minute trying to figure out how to escape. "Can you untie me though? I can't exactly build if I'm stuck here."

"You just called me insane and have been nothing but resistant this whole time. Why would I let you roam?" Zane sneered, crossing his arms. "However, I can release you to some extent, since you will be working for me."

And with that Zane untied and retied him so that his hands were still bound, but had enough wiggle room to work. Zane kept a length of rope knotted around the middle, to prevent the Lightning Ninja from breaking away.

Jay's cheeks burned at the thought of being led around like some pet, although he supposed his captivity could have been more humiliating. At least Zane was holding him by the wrists and not by some borderline kinky rope collar.

"What, don't like it?" The blonde laughed genuinely, albeit a little cruelly. He glanced over Jay, almost as if reading his mind. "I could change the positioning, if you'd rather. I was trying to spare you some dignity."

"No, it's fine," Jay looked down and away, refusing to make eye contact with the man currently holding him on a leash.

"James, if we're going to be working together, you need to be able to look at me."

"Don't call me James."

"Why not? If you call me Zane, I feel as though me calling you James is just as personal. Although I do request that you call me Snake in front of the others. I have worked for a long time to reach my status, and I would hate to have my persona crumbled by one pesky ninja."

"Fine, I'll call you Snake, just don't call me James."

"You are in no position to bargain, but I suppose I could allow you this one reward."

"Don't call it a reward, I'm not your pet," Jay hissed, and Zane raised an eyebrow threateningly. Jay gulped. "Sorry."

"Now then, shall we get started?" The blonde purred, and Jay bit his lip to stifle a snarky comeback. His stomach decided to respond for him in the form of a growl.

"Uh, actually, do you have any food?"

"Pardon?"

"I haven't eaten in a while, and nerves makes me extra hungry once I stop feeling anxious. Do you have anything to eat?"

"I'll have someone grab some food for you."

"Thanks," Jay said quietly, and silence fell over the pair, Zane staring off into the distance as if calculating something. "I really am sorry about your dad. I remember him being pretty nice."

"The last memory I have with him is the day before he died. He was telling me about his newest plans for building a robot capable of passing the Turing Test. It was shaping up to be a wonderful project, I would have loved to have seen it."

"Yeah, that would've been really cool. I wish I was better at programming, y'know? People like hardware and stuff, but it's really the code that makes a machine cool. Like, I wish I had a fraction of the capability that your dad had. Wait, if you're planning on bringing him back, that must mean that you're pretty good at coding too, right?"

"I suppose so. But what does this have to do with resurrecting my father?"

"If you miss him more for his inventions than his company, maybe you shouldn't be bringing him back."

Zane didn't say anything, but his eyes bore holes into Jay's head, blue iris filled with cold fury. If looks could kill, Jay's blood would already be solid. Just as Jay was about to backtrack and retract the statement, sensing that it did way more harm than good, Zane yanked Jay towards the side of the room, holding fast to the rope while rifling through the cabinet holding his guns.

"Z- Zane, wait, what are you-"

"Shut up."

The room was silent except for Jay's panicked breathing and his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. Zane pulled out a handgun, the sleek black barrel glinting in the low light of the room.

"Are you religious, Jay?"

"N- No."

"Then pick a god and pray."

Zane loaded it quickly, and pulled Jay closer before he could react, pressing the weapon against his forehead. Jay felt tears form in his eyes, the realization that he was about to die making his muscles spasm and he kicked out, landing a hit on Zane's knee but also handicapping himself, his shaky limbs betraying him as he fell to the floor.

"No-! Don't, please, I'm sorry, just please don't shoot!"

"Too late. We cannot work together, and now that you know who I am I cannot leave you alive."

"I won't tell anyone, I promise! I don't want to die!"

"Neither did my father, and yet you still killed him anyway."

"I- I think I understand why you want him back."

Zane kept the gun pointed at his head, but allowed him to continue.

"You feel like you have no one left for you. Sure, you have your cronies and whatever, but you're just lonely. And you don't have to be," Jay offered, and squeezed his eyes shut just in case the next feeling he knew was a bullet going through his brain. Seconds passed, and nothing happened. The rope around his wrists was still pulled taught in Zane's grasp, but nothing changed.

After a few more moments, Jay slowly opened his eyes to see the gun still pointed at him, but the expression on Zane's face had changed into one of uncertainty.

"What do you mean I don't have to be? I have nothing left."

"You're the master of ice, right? I'm sure Sensei wouldn't mind another student, if you're willing."

"You- you want me to join you?"

"Okay, if I'm being honest, maybe not. You did just almost shoot me. But maybe you could make some friends. It wouldn't do any harm to lower your guard a little."

Zane looked away, and the hand holding the gun shook.

"Damn it," Zane muttered to himself, voice broken, and roughly untied the ropes holding Jay's wrists together. "Just go."

"You're letting me leave?"

"Just get out before I change my mind," Zane mumbled, throwing his gun down on his desk and sitting with his head in his hands. "You're right."

"Hey, woah," Jay couldn't believe his own actions even as he performed them, but he walked towards his captor and rested an easy hand on his shoulder. "I mean, thanks for letting me go, but take care of yourself, alright? We may on opposite sides here, but I'm sure you can be a nice guy if you set your mind to it."

Zane looked up, gaze weary.

"I'm not sure about the truth of your statement, but I appreciate the sentiment. Goodbye, Jay. Perhaps this will not be our last meeting."

"Maybe not," Jay pat him once on the shoulder before walking away, finding his way out pretty easily. Sure, he could run back to his friends and storm Zane's hiding spot if he wanted to, but something told him that would just end up with Zane putting a bullet through his own head instead of Jay's. As he was greeted by the cool night air, he decided on two things.

One, he needed to go back and talk to Zane again sometime, as he was still sure that there was a good guy down there somewhere. And two, never before in his life had been so thankful for his chatter.

[junipersgarden]

metanoia 6. | Ablaze

PAIRING: Peter Parker x Superhero!Reader

SUMMARY: Arriving in Prague, the responsibility and pressure builds up, Beck gives Peter a talk, Y/N gives Fury a talk and Peter and Ned think a night at the Opera isn’t that bad. 

WORD COUNT: 5493 words

WARNINGS: Fighting (physical and verbal)

a/n: hello lovely people !! here is the next part of the metanoia series and hope you enjoy this one !! (also i suck at action scenes so sorry). 

[NOT MY GIF] 

...

In Prague, Czech Republic...

...

Tony Stark.

Of course the first thing you'd see as the bus pulls up to the hotel is an art piece of Tony plastered across a building; it's funny how even after everything, his always there to watch over you... making things now so much harder...

You notice clusters of people on the Prague streets all bundled together holding poles with light decorations attached to them, wearing glow stick accessories with buzzes of conversation and music swaying in the wind.

For the Lights Festival.

Before you realize it, the van gradually slows to a complete stop in front of an exquisite and traditional building and with everyone boarding off,  you rise from your seat cautiously in mind of your injured head and carry yourself down the bus with the others.

As all of you enter through the golden doors, audible mumbles and gasps of wonder murmur around and even yourself, you can't help but widen your eyes at the 'minor' upgrade to the previous hotel but even though the hotel was all amazement and grand, the gnawing heavy thought of what is to come is chewing away at your conscious and from Peter's hurried eyes and awkward stance, you can tell that he feels the same way.

Coincidentally, you peer over at Peter and hear his phone vibrate at the same time yours does with Peter stepping away from the group to take a call, you grab your phone out and see a singular message:

from: UNKNOWN

We're expecting you and Spider-Man.

Spider-Man has been instructed by Hill and you are instructed to place on your suit and headpiece and make your way to these coordinates as soon as possible.

Remember the plan for tonight, come on time, ready and strong.

Exhaling deeply, you shove your phone back and can't help but observe Peter from afar who is talking to Ned with a worried manner; he doesn't deserve this...

Slipping away from the group who are all immersed in conversation, you hastily manage sneak yourself back out of the main entrance and look for a place to suit up.

Your eyes meet along an alleyway and you make a run for it and as you are running, you lift your bracelet to your mouth and whisper the command.

Once in the safety of the darkness of the alleyway, ARIS complies and you feel your suit mold perfectly around your body and when ready, you fly into the night, full of fear and regret to the coordinates.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"Physics is easy!" Peter exclaims with his hands in the air, accidentally letting his pencil go.

"For you! You're a science guy; anything science and you just absorb the information and understand it! I can't do that!" Y/N huffs out an annoyed breath.

"Sure you can Y/N/N! It's just about practice-"

"I can't do formulas Pete! Biology and psychology are more like terms and stuff but physics is like science math; a science for math!"

"Not really..."

"Ugh I dunno! All I know is that I'm going to fail this physics project." Y/N spins on the chair and blows a strand of loose hair away.

"That's why I'm here! You got me to help! I'll teach you physics and we can put more physics into your cute brain!" Peter's cheeks redden after he realises what he said.

"Did you call me cute Parker?" Y/N inches closer to him with her cheeks creeping into a blush.

"N-No c-cute can mean small-" Peter tries to improve his situation.

"Are you saying I have a small brain?!" Y/N gasps and dramatically places a hand across her heart.

"N-No! You have a h-huge brain! You're really s-smart! The s-smartest girl I know! I'm sorry I-"

"Petey! I was just joking! But, thank you for acknowledging my small brain." Y/N giggles as Peter chuckles with her. "But on a more serious note, do you reckon I'll pass this test?"

"Well, with that cute brain of yours-"

"Peter!"

"Parker!" Fury snaps Peter from his trance and back into reality; a reality he wishes wasn't real.

"Yes sir?" Peter answers with a quicken voice.

"That thing is going to be here in a few hours; are we boring you-"

"I don't think he's bored," Saviour steps forward with annoyance in their voice, "I think he's just thinking about how you're holding him hostage and how you hijacked his entire school vacation just so he can satisfy your needs, sir."  Saviour smugly cocks their head up to Fury and even behind their mask, Peter could tell a smirk lied on their face.

"He had obstacles... I removed them. And for my needs?  We're talking about an entire city being at risk Saviour." Fury coldly responds and Saviour's strong stance sinks a little.

"They still won't evacuate the city." Maria Hill strolls away from the compute monitors and next to Fury, directing her statement to him.

"Ugh.. idiots..." Fury shakes his head and mutters to himself. "So Parker," Fury tilts his head to look at Peter, "what's the plan?"

Mysterio, Saviour, Maria Hill and Fury all avert their attention and eyes onto Peter, waiting for him to recite out exactly what the plan for tonight is.

"I will be... in the cathedral tower, keeping watch for the Fire Monster and when that shows up, I will radio you guys, and then Saviour and Mr. Beck and I will-"

"My name is Mysterio." Beck injects and with a gesture aimed at Peter, Peter smiles widely and lets off a soft chuckle.

"That's right... Mysterio, Saviour and I will move in."

"Peter listen to me, the best hope you have, the only hope you have is to stop it here and now. No matter what the cost." Mysterio's demeanor darkens.

Peter's face has fallen from Mysterio's statement as he slowly walks toward him with only fear on his face, turning pale like a ghost.

"Move it away from civilians if you can but most importantly, keep it away from metal. If it gets too big, it'll be able to draw power from the Earth's core and after that, there's no way to stop it."

Mysterio, finishing his speech of warning and advice, Peter stares deeply and blankly at the floor as he processes the newly received information; his friends were just in the hotel not even 10 minutes away from the town square, where the Fire Elemental is set to attack.

Peter knows that he can't loose anyone else, he can't endanger his loved ones again and be the one to pay the price; the ultimate cost of Tony's life had scarred him and taught him a sacred lesson in life; life is too short and that you can loose just about anything with the snap of your fingers.

Thoughts of May, Ned, Y/N and MJ fly through his mind; even though May isn't present to be affected by the Elemental but what if her nephew fails to arrive home? What if Ned looses his best friend tonight? What if Y/N- Y/N.

Y/N L/N. The one who'd pulled him out of his depression after Tony's death, the one who understood the consequences of the hero life, the one who helped him to see his worth, the one he had fallen in love with.

What if I never get the chance to tell Y/N?

"Hey man," Peter quivers as if he is about to cry, "my friends are here, and I can't help and think we're putting them at risk-"

"You worry about us hurting your friends?! You, who called a drone strike on your own school tour bus?" Fury stands up angry and marches toward Peter.

"Stark gave you a multi-billion dollar AR and the first thing you do with it? You start blowing up your friends! It's clear to me that you were not ready for this!" Fury points his finger at Peter as Peter nods and cowers away with tears threatening his eyes.

"Of course he wasn't ready!" Saviour glides in front of Peter, 'protecting' him from Fury's blows, "you thought it'd be such a wise idea to give a kid a multi-billion dollar tactical intelligence system which you had no clue what it was or did to him, a teenager that is in mourning so you don't have the responsibility because you felt 'it was right'."

"Saviour don't-" Mysterio advises, raising his arm to gently place his hand on a shoulder to swiftly lead Saviour out.

"Don't tell me don't," Saviour shoves Mysterio back and appoints back to yell at Fury, "you're forcing him to help you and your people save a city once again, against his own goddamn will because you're afraid SHIELD is going to fail again just like how you guys somehow managed to let HYDRA infest itself without anyone noticing! You SHIELD scumbags just use people with these talents, skills and powers to your own will because you're nothing without Mysterio, without me, without him! Take a hard look in the goddamn mirror Fury because from the looks of it, you're trying to rebuild your idea... admit it Fury, The Avengers are dead. Get over yourself and this pathetic vision and focus on what's at hand instead of trying to brainwash Parker here to become another puppet for you to pull your strings on." Saviour hisses out with venom, breathing loudly from the yelling.

Fury remains silent but a cold, stern expression lies heavily on his face.

Peter, overwhelmed by everything and what is being said jumps to his feet and sprints out of the room, away from all the drama and needing to catch a breath.

"I'll go talk to him." Mysterio announces and gives Saviour a look of disappointment with a shake of his head, Mysterio hovers and flies out of the room.

Saviour pivots a foot toward the exit to follow Peter and Mysterio but stops to say one last thing: "Don't you dare turn Parker into Tony."

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

A chill breeze flurries past Peter as he dangles his feet off the edge of the building, lost in thought and withdrawn from his surroundings; all Peter can do is ponder of the fight about to happen, what the consequences and outcome might be, the things Fury and Mysterio had said and even of Saviour standing up for him; sure they'd worked alongside back with each other in New York but Saviour treated him differently; Saviour was more reckless, confident and not as 'open' or 'caring' to Peter when he was Spider-Man but it seems now after the Blip, Saviour had softened to him and was more protective and willing to form a bond.

Saviour preferred to work alone; Peter knew that since Saviour had only worked with him as Spider-Man if it was absolutely necessary but Peter never knew why but until now, Saviour was always requesting for him back in New York, even if it was the smallest task or jobs that Peter knew Saviour could easily accomplish by them self.

Of course Peter didn't mind, he was just curious of this sudden change but he couldn't focus on that now; Peter needed to get his mind ready and needed to follow the plan unless his friends and Y/N could potentially get extremely hurt.

Glancing up from hearing a series of small whirring noises, Peter sees Mysterio floating in front of him and feels somewhat sad that it isn't Saviour.

"Fury asked me to come up here and see how you were doing. It's  just, he felt bad about snapping at ya." Mysterio explains.

"Really?"

"You guys do have sarcasm on this Earth right?"

Peter dryly chuckles; of course Fury wouldn't exactly care.

"How are you feeling?" Mysterio genuinely asks Peter who he can tell is deep in thought.

"Uhh... I didn't think I was gonna have to save the world this summer... I know that makes me sound like such a jerk I just- I had this plan with this girl I really like and now, it's all ruined." Peter sighs and can't help but imagine of Y/N which causes him to tear up a little.

Mysterio levitates down next to Peter as his fishbowl mask dissolves away. "You're not a jerk for wanting a normal life kid. It's a hard path; you see things, do things, make choices... people look up to you and... even if you win a battle sometimes they die." Mysterio fixates on the distance as Peter takes everything in.

"I like you Peter, you're a good kid. There's a part of me that wants me to tell ya to just, turn around and run away from all this and there's another part of me that... knows what we're about to face and fight... and what's at stake and I'm glad you're here." Mysterio turns to look at Peter.

"Me too."

"But you worry about your friends." Mysterio questions.

"Yeah... I just always feel that I'm putting them in danger..."

"Look just, get them inside and keep them in a safe place for just a few hours and it'll be alright." Mysterio nods as if he is nodding to himself for reassurance.

A silence falls between the both of them as they stare into the night sky and prepare for what is to come.

"It's nice... have somebody to talk too about superhero stuff ya know?" Peter admits.

"Anytime and hey you survive this, you have all summer to kill Brad Davis."

Mysterio gives Peter a smile as Peter returns one to him.

"See you out there." Peter gathers his backpack and just like that, leaps from the building and lands back down onto the ground, determined to keep his friends safe and sound.

Peter digs into his backpack and retrieves EDITH and places the glasses onto his face. "EDITH?"

"Hello Peter."

"Hey! Uhhh, I need to find a way to keep my friends inside for the next few hours."

"Let's see what we can do."

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

"Good news, we're going to the Opera!" Mr. Harrington with a beaming smile announces to the class

From around the corner, you see the class all sitting around with glow sticks attached to themselves, all begin to uprise in murmurs of disagreement and disapproval as they all shoot Mr. Harrington bizarre looks.

You take the opportunity of them all invested with Mr. Harrington and his announcement to silently slide in the free space between Peter and MJ.

Peter hearing your movement, glimpses at your direction and you send him a friendly smile, swearing at yourself for feeling your cheeks turning pink.  

"Don't look at me." Mr. Dell informs the students and clearly tells them that he is on their side.

"What happened to the carnival." MJ asks the question on everyone's minds.

"Well this is upgrade living guys. Come on, the tour company just gave us these tickets. For free! Do you have any idea how much opera tickets cost?" Mr. Harrington debates.

"No. Because none of us have ever wanted to go to the opera." Flash speaks on everyone's behalf.

Overlooking at Peter's face and Ned's nervousness, you pick up that Peter is influencing Ned to agree about the opera; maybe it's a diversion?

"Uh, well I think this is going to be cultural impact for us." Ned suddenly proposes.

"Thank you Ned." Mr. Harrington points at Ned and agrees with him. "Everyone, this is maybe, going to be the best 4 hours of our whole trip."

Groans of protest arise of the discovery of the time length of the opera.

"Guys come on, I also think that it's gonna be really fun... seriously! It'll be like The Phantom of The Opera." You lead on with Ned.

Hearing some people agree with you on The Phantom of The Opera, Mr. Harrington excuses everyone to change into a nice outfit.

You along everyone else, leave your seats and enter your rooms to change and rummaging through your suitcase, you find the dress you'd been saving for; the dress was ironically black and white;  the top half was fully black and transitioned to white with patterns of black floral prints on the white to match with the top which paired perfectly with your black and white wedges.

Laying the dress onto the bed with the shoes, you undress yourself and pull the dress down onto your body and place your shoes on and critique yourself in the mirror, you decide to curl a few strands of hair and clip on a pair of earrings and finally happy with your look, you clutch your purse and exit your room and meet everyone outside as you all start to walk to the opera.

Grumbles and moans are heard as fireworks explode in the distance, lights brightly fill the busied square with everyone wishing to attend one of the world's biggest festival's instead of the Opera.

You agree with them; the Opera sounds mentally exhausting but you'd rather have your friends alive than at the hands of a fire monster; the plan needed to work because if it didn't, everything could be exposed and destroyed and you wouldn't be let off the hook.

Feeling something brush into your side, you find Peter Parker in a suit walking next to you, a red blush prominent on his face as he whips his head away from you.

Must be nervous about the plan.

Before you know it, Mr. Harrington stops abruptly which causes everyone to accidentally bump into one another as he quickly glances and reads the tickets and matches the address to the sign of the place, Mr. Harrington leads everyone in with a stride which is halted almost immediately as upon entering the Opera House.

"Here we are... looks like we bet the rush..." Mr. Harrington falters as the depressing sight of empty seats and elderly slowly move to their seat and wait patiently for the show to begin. "Lucky for us we got the best seats in the house!"

Mr. Harrington starts to lead everyone to the front row all with looks of boredom, you don't follow them but watch as they all pile into their seats, you adjust the earring with your earpiece so that you're ready to hear for the signal; tonight has to have no mistakes or flaws unless everything is done for.

"Hey," Brad Davis calls at you, you turn your nose and flatter him with a fake smile, "I'll save you a seat."

Grimacing internally at his comment, you smile at him and once he is out of sight, roll your eyes at him and lower your smile to rest.

Hearing shuffling behind you, Peter glides next to you with a nervous face.

"Something on your mind?" You ask Peter who is staring intensely at the ground and lifting his feet up and down from the ground.

"N-No... just excited about the Opera is all." Peter lies but curses at himself for the stupid and unbelievable lie.

"Yeah... 4 hours of singing that we probably won't understand... lucky us." You joke and play along with his 'love' for Opera.

Peter chuckles at your joke but the only thing on his mind is how you look so effortlessly beautiful in that black and white floral dress, eyes shimmering and battling against the brightness of the golden walls, hair bouncing and sitting so neatly... to Peter you were perfection in the flesh and yet you do it so easily, you truly astonish him everyday.

"You look really pretty tonight..." Peter mumbles at you with his eyes fixated on yours.

Peter's compliment takes you off guard; Peter Parker just called me pretty... but doesn't he have his eyes on someone else?

"Oh just tonight Parker?"  You cock your head up and give him a confused face, begging and praying that he couldn't see the blushing and flustered mess underneath your facade.

"N-No- you're gorgeous all the time- I mean pretty- I mean-" Peter struggles to say a word.

"Peter I'm only teasing but thank you... and you look pretty too..." You play with you dress anxiously.

Peter and you share a comfortable silence filled by both of your soft smiles to one another, butterflies flutter nervously inside you.

"Hey Pete?"

"Y-Yeah?" Peter's eyes gaze into yours deeply and intently, his soft brown and innocent eyes scorn your own and the words fail to come out of your mouth.

"D-Do you, I dunno, wanna be seat partners or something? Or maybe just leave and get out of here with me?"

Peter's heart dropped; Y/N was asking him, plain ole Peter Parker to hang out,  just the two of them and he was over the moon, with his response ready at his tongue and head.

"No."  Peter gingerly answers.

"No as in you just want to seat next to other or ditch or just no to me?" Insecurity manifests in your speech as you hurriedly ask mostly to yourself.

"I-I didn't mean that uh if you go ahead and I'll be your partner... we'll be a pair."

"O-Okay Parker... I'll save you a seat, next to me because... why not?"  You justify your reasoning to ease your conscious and make your way to the front row.

Peter Parker watches from afar as he rapidly presses on his earpiece to make Nick Fury shut up, Peter watches you move to the front row of seats and a throbbing pain fills his chest; he has to leave you to keep you safe, even if it jeopardizes his plan and your friendship.

Sharply turning away, Peter bumps into Ned

"C-Can you tell Y/N/N I'm sorry?"

"Yeah, yeah dude of course but Peter no matter what you do, steer the monster away from the Opera house please. We're all counting on you." Ned's voice shook with a hint of fear in his speech.

Peter's eyes looked around the room; all his friends, Ned, MJ and Y/N were in this room, all depending on him to save them... he can't let them down... not again at least.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Joyous music and fun filled the town square as the people danced and let off their lights and colours into the night, all in celebration for the Lights Festival.

Amongst being hidden by what remained in the dark, refraining from the fireworks and lights, Peter held himself against the cathedral tower and with worried and focused eyes, kept scanning and looking, observing for any sign of the Fire Elemental with his tongue at the ready to warn everyone of the monster's arrival.

"Alright I'm in position. Uh, as soon as I see something Beck I'll let you know."

"Roger that. Any sign of Saviour?"

"Negative," Nick Fury's static voice answers, "Parker, how's the suit?"

"It's uh great. It's just a bit tight- around the ole webshooter-"

"Parker!" Nick Fury barks at Peter's inappropriate reference.

"Okay I'll shut up. B-but there's still no sign of Saviour?"

"None at all. Haven't been contacted and they didn't meet up at our position." Beck radios in.

Where the hell are you Saviour?

"Energy's spiking." Fury dials in on the radio, seeing the alert.

"We have seismic activity."  Mariah pitches in.

From the tower, Peter stares at a statue, watching the metal be completely digested by magma flowing freely and growing rapidly around the statue, bystanders watching the phenomenon take place, not knowing the true identity and moral danger they are in.

Goosebumps and Peter's hairs stood on end as a  glow grew larger and larger until sounds of screams and hurried footsteps of people running filled Peter's super sensed ears; it's now or never.

"Okay he's here! Beck are you ready? You know what to do?"

"On your lead Spider-Man."

Bellowed roars erupted from the monster as it spewed out hot flames around it, causing destruction and horror to the town square of Prague, people flee in terror as cars are crushed and explosions implode from the beast.

Watching and patiently waiting from the tower, Peter spots Beck touch down onto the ground, releasing his green smoke around him and wielding his power as his weapons.

"You're up kid."

Shooting a web, Peter grabs his decoy and swings toward the Fire Elemental and whacks it hard, causing it to loose balance and focus just in time for Peter to swing to safety.

As Beck fires at the monster, Peter sees fire hydrates planted on the ground directly next to the enemy and latches a web and pulls them clean off, water spraying onto the Elemental and weakening it.

Bursting in outrage, the Fire Elemental punches the wall Peter is stuck onto, debris fly from the impact as Peter jumps onto a carousel.

Whew that was-

The Fire Elemental doesn't let him finish as it hits the carousel and Peter flies off, colliding onto the ground violently and eventually hitting the back of a Ferris Wheel.

"No Beck! He's got the carousel!" Peter yells as he sees the Fire Elemental consume the carousel and grow even bigger.

"Night- Monkey!" "Night-Monkey help us!"

Night-Monkey? Wha-

Peter turns around to find the source of the pleas for help and is met with the dreaded faces of fear from Ned Leeds and Betty Brant from the Ferris Wheel.

Panic rushing into his system, heavy thumps from the Fire Elemental's footsteps increase, inching closer and closer, it's eyes of red burning through Peter.

Peter attempts to slow the creature down by webbing it and pulling it, but as soon as he shoots his webs, the fire burns them off.

Raising its arm, the Fire Elemental goes to strike Peter, Peter braces for it.

No, no, no what do I do? What do I do? Please no-

But nothing happens; Peter opens his eyes and feels energy flurrying all around him; a black smoke shaped of a force field, a figure of black and white standing next to him with their arms extended out as if they are controlling it...

Saviour!

"SAVIOUR!"

"Hey Spidey. Miss me that much huh? You okay?" Saviour asks with a groan, busy concentrating on keeping their form.

"Yeah, yeah! I'm fine! Plan B?"

"Well it looks like- umph, Plan A isn't- ugh, working." Saviour groans as the Fire Elemental starts hitting the dome.

"We gotta hit him with something!" Peter shouts over the noise and looks hurriedly at Saviour.

"I go left, you go right.... NOW!" Saviour throws their hands away and quickly flies left as Peter swings right.

Saviour glides through the air, searching and scanning for anything to throw at the creature.

"Where's Beck?"

"Coming up behind you." Saviour spots Beck in his Mysterio costume fly next to them.

"Parker, I'll grab those kids from the wheel, you and Beck fight this crazy inferno." Saviour boosts toward the Ferris Wheel.

"Okay!" Peter runs up a wall and flips, webs a rock from the destruction and flings it the Fire Elemental, successfully damaging and stunning it. "Shoot it now!"

Beck aims his hands and fires at the Elemental, a green patch from Beck's attack glows on its chest. "That hurt him! Keep it coming!"

Peter and Beck start to work as a team; Peter stunning the creature with Beck attacking it with his blasts.

"Spider-Man! Keep your distance!"

"I'm trying!" Peter cries back.

"Can't let him get near the Ferris Wheel!"

"Parker and I are on it!"  Saviour chimes in and swoops Peter up from the ground, flying them both toward the Ferris Wheel, dropping Peter in the carriage with Ned and Betty.

Suddenly while Peter goes to shoot a web and as Saviour is flying in toward them, they both knock and feel something hard, Saviour knocks out of orbit and Peter's web sticks onto something that isn't there.

Saviour goes flying through the air, losing all control and balance of flight, heading straight toward the Elemental.

"SAVIOUR!" Peter shouts in agony as Saviour's body disappears in the flames.

The Fire Elemental hears Ned and Betty's screams and draws itself to the Ferris Wheel,  Peter tries to get Ned and Betty out before it's too late.

Saviour rockets back onto the Ferris Wheel and holds onto the carriage tightly, Peter sighing in relief.

"I'll get Buffy and Angel out of here while you web up the wheel!" Saviour calls out to Peter.

"Saviour! Need you now!"

"I- I can't I gotta get them out and I'm drained out-" Saviour starts to ramble as they lift up Betty from the Ferris Wheel seat.

"When I say I need you, I need you!" Beck continues to aim and fire at the Elemental to cease it from reaching them as Peter swings himself around, webbing the Ferris Wheel to stable it.

"Thank you so much Saviour! You're a life-" Betty starts to praise Saviour but as Saviour lifts Betty, Saviour abruptly drops her back into the seat and clutches their side.

"Are you hurt?!" Ned frantically asks.

"No, i-it's nothing... I'm good." Saviour raises their hand toward Beck and moans in pain, holding it for 10 seconds before going back to retrieve Betty.

"It's too late..." Mariah's voice utters into the piece. Oh no.

Beck turns toward them both, unveiling his mask, "What ever happens next, I'm glad I met the both of you."

"Beck! What are you doing?!"

"What I should of done last time." Beck answers Peter as he begins to summon all his power.

Saviour's hand raises toward Beck as if they are trying to stop Beck from his actions as their other hand grips weakly to the Ferris Wheel.

"Beck don't do it!" Peter cries.

Beck screams in pain as his power all starts to come out and unravel itself, ready for one last and final attack.

Beck flies forward and punches the Fire Elemental straight in the chest, his power absorbing as the beast stumbles back as Beck's power manifests it.

Saviour screams a blood curling scream before the creature lets out its final cry and falls to the ground, green mist exploding with it.

Green particles fly all around as Peter sticks the final web together and sees Beck's body lying on the ground, burnt and defeated.

Peter jumps down as Saviour stays clinging onto the Ferris Wheel, Peter approaches Beck's body with horrific flashbacks.

"M-Mr. Beck?" Peter lightly turns his body, a gasp of breath relieves Peter as Beck wearily opens his eyes.

Saviour lands beside them and helps Peter into bringing Beck back up onto his feet.

The SHIELD opearatives along with Nick Fury and Mariah Hill close in as Beck sits down with Peter and Saviour by his side; Peter standing and Saviour holding their side next to Beck.

"I thought a vacation meant being away from the work and not the work coming to us." Saviour dryly chuckles with a cough.

"That's the last Elemental though..." Beck informs.

"But not the last threat." Nick Fury strides up next to the three heroes. "Hill and I are going to headquarters in Berlin tomorrow. You should come with us." Fury looks at Beck as he speaks.

Beck stands and firmly grabs Fury's hand and shakes it. "Thank you. I might take up on that."

Nick Fury then approaches Peter Parker who stands still and awkward, awaiting for Fury's words.

"You got gifts Parker," Fury starts, "but you don't wanna be here-"

"Mr. Fury I-"

"I'd like you in Berlin too. But you've got to decide if you're going to step up or not. Stark chose you, he made you an Avenger... I need that. The world needs that. Maybe Stark was wrong... was he?"

Peter's eyes burn from the tears forming in his eyes; he has nothing to say and doesn't know what to say.

"And as for you Saviour, you're lucky I want Beck and since apparently you two are a package deal, I want you in Berlin too. But I don't want to see anymore of your efforts like tonight; you didn't bother or care to show up and look at what happened; if you followed the plan, maybe things could of turned out better, maybe you would of been an actual hero. You didn't do anything." Fury stares sharply at Saviour before walking off with Mariah and driving away from the scene.

Peter and Saviour say nothing, the silence speaks for them but Beck doesn't stand for it; Beck offers his hand to help Saviour up which they slap away and stand them self, taking off into the night without a word.

Beck walks over to Peter who is left standing still and quiet after Fury's words and places a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Come on, let's get a drink."

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