#and more importantly where is peter bring him back to me is he still a sadist who can barely bring himself to care about people here

[navree]

so this is just, like, the good universe, right? no magnus institute, gerry's happy healthy and whole, gertrude's just a regular granny, basira has had a nice and illustrious career working with children, georgie is ryan bergara. like all the tma characters are just normal and fine here. i bet original elias is perfectly sober too.

[leaawrites]

Valentine's day kisses

Percy Jackson x Daughter of Apollo reader

Warnings: fluff, kisses, valentine's day mentioned,

Summary: Percy brings flowers in hope of getting a Valentine

For everyone who needs a bit of love today! I love and appreciate you all so dearly <3

Masterlist

The first thing she woke up to was a fresh Bouquet of flowers beside her bed. Y/n looked around the room, trying to figure out who the mysterious sender was. No one looked at her in a way that told her they were it, they all only looked at her in expectation. None of her brother’s or sisters knew who had smuggled the flowers in here. Or more importantly, who was crazy enough to sneak into the Apollo cabin before dawn to surprise someone.

Apollo kids were always the first to wake, but not today. Today it was someone who wasn’t too afraid of potentially getting caught, but too bashful to admit that they were it.

“Looks like you’ve got a Valentine,” Laura chirped in from across the other side of the cabin, making the others laugh.

Y/n looked down, flowers in her hand, cheeks growing red. Whoever it was, she wanted to know who they were.

“Are you going to find out who it was?” It felt like Laura could read her mind. That wasn’t the first time it happened. She already did it when Y/n stared into the distance at one of their traditional campfires.

“He’s cute, I know. But stop thinking about him,” she told her back then.

“Who are you talking about?” Y/n asked since she wasn’t looking at anyone in particular.

“The new kid. Peter?” Laura guessed his name wrong.

“Percy,” Y/n corrected her.

She guessed wrong on purpose.

Y/n looked at her best friend, she knew her all too well.

“Of course, I will,” she answered confidently. Even though she had no idea where to start. “But where?”

“What is with outside the cabin?” Another camper said as he walked through the door.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows at 1. How he knew about what they were talking about and 2. What he meant by it. The girl pushed her blanket away from her body, freeing her legs from the heat. The cold morning air hit her bare skin the moment she stepped outside the cabin. Everyone was watching her as she walked outside. She had no idea who or what would be outside, until she saw Percy Jackson leaning against the wall of Cabin 7.

“Percy Jackson,” she mused. “What brought you out here this early?”

“So, you like them?” He asked, partly answering her question, when only vague.

“You slipped the flowers beside my bed?” Y/n asked holding his gaze. She was always someone who would look the person she was talking to in the eyes out of respect.

“Happy Valentine’s day.” He smiled at her like a innocent boy.

Y/n laughed at him and his unusual shyness. He acted all relaxed when he was still leaning against the wall, but now that he’s face to face with the girl he secretly admired, the words left his mouth. There was no other sound coming from his vocal chords but a small laugh when he heard hers.

“Thank you,” she said, kissing his cheek in gratefulness. “What about, I get dressed and then we could go down to the lake or so?” She asked, trying to stop the tension between them.

“Yes,” he answered, smiling at her still. “Or you could teach me how to use bow and arrow?”

“I’m not sure if that will end well,” she said, amused at the memory of his first try with the gear.

“I mean, I’m a fast learner,” he shrugged, playing the embarrassing off with a cool facade.

“Sure you are,” Y/n said, before disappearing again into her cabin to get dressed for the day ahead.

[foolsocracy]

With all the age discourse around Spider-Man Noir right now, I thought I’d compile parts of the comic that imply his age. I want to state that this pulling from his 2009-2010 comic run before the time skip, specifically the first volume. The spiderverse movie has taken a lot of liberties with the characters, so it is very possible that what Peters age is in 1933 in the comics is NOT what his age is in 1933 in the movies.

Peter’s age is not directly stated in his 1st comic run (I can’t speak for the 2020 ones because it has been a while since I read them, plus there’s like a 10 year jump). It IS however heavily implied that he is young. So much so that you can’t seem to go more than a page without someone referencing it.

Like, these all happen in the same scene. The writers beat you over the head with it.

In this issue alone Peter is called both “son” and “sonny” once, “boy” twice, and “kid” 8 times. Outside nouns, he is also referred to as young, and when Urich brings him to The Black Cat, Felicia calls it “babysitting.” Urich also asks Peter if he is “allowed out after midnight” but after some research I can’t seem to find any evidence of NYC having juvenile curfews at this point in time, though they did exist in lots of towns in the late 1800s and early 1900s because of child labor laws. I think this instance is just Pete just being young and an adult being concerned about his well-being.

It is also mentioned in this volume, and again in Eyes Without a Face (vol 2), that Peter wants to go to college in the future and is currently studying & saving up money to do so. This alone doesn’t necessarily mean he’s under 18 as there isn’t a max age to apply for college, plus Peter comes from a poor family during the Great Depression. It wouldn’t surprise me if he started college later than usual because of that (lack of funds & catching up due to not being in school/working).

There is other evidence that does imply he is under 18 though— he’s too young to drink alcohol!

Spider-Man Noir Vol 1 issue 1 starts in January 1933 before jumping back three weeks to December 1932 where Ben Urich meets Peter Parker

It is during December 1932 that he meets Felicia Hardy who owns the speakeasy The Black Cat. Prohibition is still in place and won’t be overwritten until a year later in December 1933. It is important to note that before Prohibition was instated, the drinking age in New York was 18 years old. That law is what the characters reference when they discuss drinking age. And most importantly, Peter doesn’t deny the fact that he’s too young to drink. He just snarks back in true Parker fashion

This is the most concrete evidence there is towards Peter being under 18 in the noirverse. It can even be argued that Peter is under 17 with how easily Felicia picks up on the fact that he’s underage (and that she does so from a distance might I add, as seen in the ‘babysitting’ panel).

There is also a panel where JJJ refers to Peter as an “orphan.” By definition, an orphan is a kid under 18. This is JJJ, so this can be taken with a grain of salt as he loves good ol hard-hitting words. When people speak they don’t always use words by their exact definitions; sometimes if you’re young and your parents are dead, JJJ is going to label you an orphan even if ur a legal adult lol. But if you take this at face value it’s definitely another indicator that Peter is under 18.

TLDR; Spider-Man Noir from his 2009-2010 comic run is most likely under 18, and can be argued to be 15-16+. If not that, then is definitely college aged or younger.

[oroontheheels]

Daddy’s gonna be real honest with you kittens.

I’m disappointed with current Venom Run. Let me be real CLEAR here. I don’t hate it. I don’t have beef with its creator. So for a long period of time I was telling everyone “it’s a mess, but it’s better that Donnie Cates”.

But I think comparing them is not correct and let me explain why.

So Donnie Cates. Our boy. Extra edgy, made some terrifically BAD retcons, hated symbrock, tried to make Eddie Brock as trad as possible (giving him human son and all). Plus he ignored the fact that Sleeper was a child of Venom and Eddie. “nOt BioLoGiCalLy” Eddie’s but he called Eddie “father” and they both deeply cared about each other. So Donnie Cates couldn’t allow this either.

But! Donnie Cates while fighting the yaoi made the story ironically even more gayer. It was a train wreck but at the end of the day at least it was fun to laugh at this “closeted shipper” as I like to call him.

And most importantly? At the end they were still “Venom family”. All 4 of them. In Donnie Cates comics.

Now Al Ewing and Ram V… It was… ok. I like Dylan, I like Venom, I like Sleeper. I didn’t like that they “killed” Eddie right at the start of the story and sent him running solo trough time traveling shenanigans. I liked him interacting with Doctor Doom. I liked Meridus being gay with Kang and with that one old man.

But what I lacked is interactions between Venom and Eddie. They almost didn’t interact.

But like, okay. Let Eddie do his thing, let Venom singlemom it out. Also did I mention Ewing and V made Dylan Venom’s son? That was NICE. That’s I liked. A LOT.

And immideatly got my hops up.

Which was a mistake.

So the problem is where Donnie was closeted shipper, I’m starting to believe that Ewing and V don’t actually see Venom and Eddie as a romantic partnership. Or even all that important partnership.

If you check Spider Man Venom War comics, Venom talks A LOT about how much “Saint Peter”(Parker) means to him. It’s very gay very romantic very deep. But at the next pages it also downgraded Eddie role in Venoms life?? Venom is like “so yeah Peter taught me to save lives so I saved Eddie from offfing himself”. And that’s almost it. No emphasis on their bond, on Eddie’s feelings, of their bond. Almost nothing, really.

And now it’s Venom War and Venom says “wow Peter and I are sooo perfect, also it feels nice punching Eddie in the face”.

So what. Venom hates Eddie now? After all those years of forgiveness?? And it wasn’t elaborated in the slightest??

I would hate it but I WOULD understand if they wanted to make Parker new host for Venom for a while. But they don’t?? Apparently Al Ewing planing to give Venom new host (all of the candidates SUCK for the role btw). And if I understood one of his interviews correctly he want to send all the characters their separate ways.

Here’s the statement

Which annoyed me. A LOT. Like i understand that cis hetero males bring all the money to Marvel. We little faggots don’t bring so much cash. So our feelings and wants are not important. But isn’t there big ass FANDOM for symbrock? People who advertise comics for free with their art and activities?? Are we not important whatsoever? And on top of that wasn’t EVERYONE celebrating when Eddie got Venom back (in 2016)?? Don’t we all love homoerotic weird ass bond these two have??

And what does it even mean “yeah it’s been a while since Eddie and Venom have been together”. It wasn’t. Donnie Cates first made Venom into amnesiac DOG, then sent him into exile and then kept him and Eddie from having meaningful interaction until the very end of his run. Everyone who loves symbrock were STARVING.

And Al Ewing and Ram V story separated Eddie into his own story line.

And now Al Ewing tilling us “yeah it’s been too long, it’s time to move on”.

It’s like giving starving person a cup of water and saying “well now you are fed, let’s go on a 20km hike”.

“My work here is done” Tuxedo Mask meme

So like… yeah.

If they’ll make Sleeper a traitor this will be so bad. This will drop from 6/10 to 0/10 immediately.

Not looking forward to Venom future.

And the WORST part? I feel like they are pulling out “this relationship is toxic so it’s cancelled” card on symbrock. They never do that on hetero ships, but they happily destroy gay ships with that argument.

It sucks.

I hope I’m wrong. But like Venom gets new host this December. There’s not much room left to give us decent amount of Symbrock IF writers even want that.

[scarlettrust]

They made it as far as Neptune’s capital city before Nureyev stopped driving.

He pulled the Ruby Seven to the side of the street, turning off the engine. They were just outside Salacia, on the outskirts of one of the city's many suburbs. It was silent, the roads empty and lit only by a flickering street lamp in dire need of service. But still Nureyev was cautious as he stepped out the car, his head on a pivot as he checked for cameras.

There was a bank across the street, its glowing sign proudly advertising an ATM. But a carefully aimed laser from his pocket made short work of its camera. By the time anyone thought to reconstruct what was left of the tape, he would be long gone.

Hands trembling and heart aching, that thought shouldn’t have hurt nearly as much as it did.

Fold it away.

The bus depot was only a few kilometres away. It would take him to the spaceport, where one of his three shuttle tickets would get him far away from here. Each one had been paid for under a different name, and each one was headed in a different direction. Even Nureyev wasn’t certain which shuttle he intended to catch, he would pick at random when he got there.

Nureyev grabbed his bag, and slung it over his shoulder. It was light, small enough to fit under his seat on the shuttle and packed only with essentials. Everything else had been destroyed when he… when he…

Unbidden, his eyes burned, filling with tears. Nureyev tilted his head back, jaw clenched as he blinked rapidly.

Fold it away.

There was only one thing left to do. With hands trembling so badly he nearly dropped it, Nureyev pulled Peter Ransom’s comms out of his pocket, with its purple case and dangling fox charm. The tiny thing had been a gift from Rita after their second week aboard the carte blanche, handed to him with a hug and a fit of giggles.

The charm spun lazily on its tether, orange enamel glinting in the streetlight. He snapped it off, slipping it into the front pocket of his jacket before powering on his comm. It came to life with a chime and a flurry of missed messages.

He ignored them all, pausing only to muster a watery smile at Juno’s lovely face staring up at him from the wallpaper. With a few button presses, he erased everything from the device. The SIM card was removed in short order and snapped in two before he dropped the comm and smashed it beneath the heel of his boot.

All in all, it was a far nicer funeral than Peter Ransom deserved.

Behind him, the Ruby seven whistled- low and inquisitive as its headlights flashed. Nureyev rolled his shoulders as he grasped his emotions tight and shoved them somewhere deep inside him.

“Thank you for bringing me this far.” He told it, running a grateful hand along the slope of its hood.

The greatest getaway vehicle in the galaxy. If it wasn’t for this car, Nureyev wouldn’t have been able to escape Dark Matters. Even if he wasn’t the one they were looking for, Rex Glass was not something easily forgotten, or forgiven.

Another chirp, more enthusiastic than before as the driver's side door popped open, the engine turning over with a hopeful rumble. But Nureyev shook his head.

“Not this time, I’m sorry to say.” He said sadly, taking a step back. “This is where we part, I fear. Go back to Carte Blanche.”

He had spent years of his life idolising this car. Stealing it from the Oasis Casino had been one of his greatest achievements as a thief. It had saved his life so many times over the last few years. His, and far more importantly Juno’s.

Nureyev only prayed it could save the detective one last time.

The Ruby revved its engines, back tires spinning in place and spitting up gravel. If it wasn’t a car, Nureyev would call the display petulant.

“This isn’t up for debate.” Nureyev told it firmly, jaw clenched against the burning behind his eyes. He had made it this far, he would not cry now. Not when it was his decision to leave. Not when he had torn apart everything that Juno had tried to build for them. Not when this was his fault. “Go find Jet and the others. They need you.”

Outside of the city lights, Nureyev could just make out the stars through the dome. If he squinted he could pretend that one of the glowing white specs was the ship he had left behind. The ship that Dark Matters had invaded.

But if they had the ruby, then maybe the crew of the Carte Blanche still stood a chance. Nureyev may have abandoned them, but he couldn’t… He wouldn’t… He had to do something.

Warm metal nudged against his legs as the Ruby inched forward, vibrating with the force of its engines. But Nureyev turned his back on it.

“You are the greatest getaway car in the galaxy.” He forced out, fists clenched at his side.“They need you. I can’t take you from them. Now go, Ruby.”

The blast of a horn shattered the silent night. But louder still was the whip crack of Nureyev’s voice as he whirled on it.

“I said GO!”

Nureyev bit down the pang of sympathy that clawed at his throat as the Ruby whistled, low and dejected sounding. Its door slammed closed, gravel crunching beneath its tires as it backed away from him

Breathing hard in the wake of his outburst, Nureyev watched it turn around and drive away. His nerves were struggling as tight as garrote wire as the Ruby’s thrusters activated, burning orange then blue as it lifted into the sky.

Nureyev couldn’t look away, even as the Ruby faded from view. Tears poured down his cheeks- he wiped at them futilely, but it did nothing to stem the tide. A strangled sob escaped Nureyev’s lips as his only way home left without him.

He was on his own now. As he was meant to be.

[dwindlinghaze]

where did you go?

(peter parker x fem!reader)

summary: peter woke up in a strange city and you're nowhere to be found.

contents: angst, peter crying

　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"goodnight pete,"

that is the only thing he remembered before waking up this morning in a place he barely recognises.

his room was just like his room but he doesn't know where all his stuff go. his bed is in a white-coloured bed sheet instead of the dark blue one he had the night before. his desk was neat and clean, unlike the one he had before today. when he looked outside the window, the building next door he vividly memorised wasn't there. and most importantly, you weren't there.

no note, no messages, no calls. you never left him without a trail.

peter went back to sleep hoping all of this is just a dream. a nightmare.

he woke up for the second time that day only to be met with the same scene before.

he pinched himself until his arms were bruised. he called aunt may but she didn't answer. he called you, and still, no response.

he decided that your phone was probably dead or you forgot to bring it. peter walked to your part-time workplace, a small library near the park. you've volunteered to work at the place to fill in your summer holidays with.

peter ran down the path to the park to only be met with a big building. the roads were all the same but everything around is misplaced. he asked one of the security people where the park that's supposed to be on this building's ground is. the security answered that there was never a park in this street.

then he asked where the verona library is and the officer once again said that there was no verona library in here but there is a library around.

peter thanked the security then he ran to the library nearby.

as he opened the door he saw a young boy sitting on one of the bean bags. "hey do you think you can help me?"

the boy looked at him and say to peter, "mother said i'm not allowed to talk to strangers."

"where's your mother?" peter asked.

"here," a stern voice of an older woman bellowed.

"oh yea- uh do you think you know someone named y/n? she works here as a volunteer to help you." peter reported

"y/n? volunteer? what volunteer? i don't know what you are talking about boy. do you want to borrow a book?" the woman dictated.

"no. she works here! here's a picture of her and please tell me you remembered her!" peter pulled out his phone and held it to the woman's face with shaky hands.

"do i know you?"

"no, but she knows you- she works here every monday, tuesday, and thursday from ten to four. i'm sure you know her!" his lips trembled as he talked.

"i fear i don't. go home, she's probably sleeping."

peter huffed and walked around to find something familiar. even the clock tower looks different. this one is more modern and advanced than the one he remembered.

he walked more and more, holding back his worry and tears as the wind flew past. he saw a young couple at the wishing well, tossing pennies on the water.

it reminded him of peter's first date where he took you out and brought you to the wishing well to wish thousands of impossible things with him.

he eyes glanced at the couple again, tears now flowing down his cold cheeks. a swarm of complicated feelings flying around him.

the boy looked at peter and furrowed his brows at him as he kissed his date's shoulder. the girl giggled and wrapped her arms around the boy in return.

and that reminded him of you too. you giggled whenever peter kisses your shoulders because you said it's ticklish.

peter tore his eyes from the two then he finally came to the police station.

"i think i've been kidnapped." he said.

"uh you're in a police station." the officer replied.

"i know but- i don't recognise this place! it's the same as my old town- queens but everything is different here! that sandwich bar across the street is supposed to be a bank!"

"could you give me your name please? and maybe describe your situation."

"i'm peter. peter parker. i fell asleep last night in my own bed and then this morning i woke up in my bed but it's not my bed. i know for a fact that it's not!"

"uh have you been drunk or drugged?"

"no! i'm only 20 i don't drink nor do i remember being drugged."

"where do you live?"

"20 ingram street, forest hills, queens."

"the thing is- there is no such thing as ingram street."

"there is! i live there. it must be a mistake! here is my citizenship card. look '20 ingram street'."

"i think you're just drunk." the officer waved off. a ringing silence filling the room so loud.

"i'm not drunk! i swear someone must've kidnapped me and put me in a place similar to my home! tell me, who are you working for?"

"i work for the federal government of new york."

"you know what forget it."

he walked back to his place or not his place and peter dropped to the floor, clutching his chest as he wailed.

he doesn't know what happened. he prayed and prayed that this will go away. or all of this were just a dream.

that's all he ever asked for.

where did you go?

the door opened, revealing the boy in the park peter saw earlier.

"stop right there!" he yelled, pointing his finger at peter's hunched body on the floor. "what are you doing in my apartment?"

peter's ear was ringing, his vision was blurry. "i have no idea what i'm doing here! do you know where am i?"

"who are you?" he questioned.

"i'm peter. peter parker."

"no. you're lying."

"i'm not. i am peter parker."

"i am peter parker."

[noys-boise]

the Caroline in the city references in family guy truly fuck me up. buckle the fuck up because I'm going to Overanalyze

so in family guy season 1 episode 6 (YES THAT EARLY ON) there's a joke where peter griffin says he once pretended to be gay by watching Caroline in the city. it then actually cuts to him watching Caroline in the city (well like he was watching what seemed like a pretty accurate recreation of the vibes of the citc intro) and then. well that's it

but of course I'm too autistic to not think about this because i have MANY questions

1. legit where did the idea that watching citc is a gay thing come from. I'm not asking this in a "whoa joking about tv shows making you gay is problematic" way because I'm aware family guy is full of jokes like that and worse. I'm asking this legitimately. because on one hand i guess you could argue that having a female main character= unmasculine=gay but that brings me to my second question

2) out of all possible tv shows to do this joke with... why Caroline in the city. and I'll have more to say on this later but i will say if you look at the time period of this. this episode of family guy aired on may 9th, 1999. the last episode of Caroline in the city aired on April 26th, 1999. i don't know how long the production of a family guy episode is but I'm going to assume Caroline in the city was still running when they wrote this episode but it was very much towards the end. but here's the thing. i spend a lot of time analyzing the cultural impact of citc and I've come to the conclusion that it was kinda relevant during season 1 but not many people watched it by season 4 (which led to that torturous non ending from early cancellation) and i legitimately don't know why this is the show they chose. like if we're going for a gay thing, Will and Grace was already airing at this time, i think more people knew about that than Caroline in the city. and there was a Caroline in the city fandom online but from what I've seen it was veeery predominantly straight. THAT BEING SAID

3) every Caroline in the city fan i see lately including myself is queer. like he couldn't have known that unless he also has future vision but considering they say Simpsons predicted everything in the future the possibility that they got all that but family guy instead just predicted a gay Caroline in the city fandom is SO funny to me

4) but back on the topic, the only other explanation i have is that this is another one of those annoyingly tasteless digs at Malcolm Gets for allegedly not being able to play a straight character convincingly (untrue) but for it to be any of these we'd have to assume that Seth MacFarlane, the creator of family guy has actually seen enough of Caroline in the city to know these things which. surely can't be the case

or... can it?

3) this is not the last time Caroline in the city was referenced in a Seth MacFarlane show. okay this is the really insane part to me. in american dad there's an episode where the characters find a "secret ending" to Caroline in the city where Caroline kills everyone and takes over the city or whatever. it's dumb, it makes me uncomfortable and stuff but there's also two very important things to note about this:

a) they got Lea Thompson to voice Caroline for like one line in this episode. i legitimately want to know what that conversation sounded like. "hey Lea could you do just one line for this episode? it's basically your character from Caroline in the city turning evil and killing everyone she loves in a secret ending to the show, are you interested?" this one isn't related to any of my conspiracy theories the thought is just funny to me

b) more importantly they like. legitimately drew them. like it was recognizably Caroline, Richard, Annie and Del. and like they showed them for like two seconds. that's a lot of attention to detail for two seconds. and again this is not the first time there was a Caroline in the city reference in a Seth MacFarlane show but SURELY this is the last one right?

WRONG!!

4) THERE'S ANOTHER REFERENCE IN AMERICAN DAD! there's a character who says something about how you should respect your elders because they lived through 4 seasons of Caroline in the city whatever that is supposed to mean! that's the THIRD TIME!

5) let's return to my second point for a second. i think i skimmed over one of the most glarring logical issue with the original family guy joke. peter claimed he pretended to be gay by watching Caroline in the city, but in the cutaway gag, he is fully alone in his own living room, watching Caroline in the city. (side note, it is a really, really good recreation of the citc intro which adds to my Seth MacFarlane has seen some Caroline in the city theory because why else would he pay attention to this detail) but.... how is that pretending? who was he pretending to? did he memorize every plot point to later recount it to pretend to be a fan? at that point he's just straight up a fan isn't he? he could've just told people he watched Caroline in the city if he wanted to pretend to be gay! why did he even pretend to be gay that's never explained and it's so specific...

now that I mentioned it it's very specific and familiar.....

6) Caroline in the city season 1 episode 3 Caroline and the gay art show, Richard pretends to be gay to sell his art AND in season 3 episode 20 Caroline and the little white lies, Del and Charlie pretend to be gay for insurance reasons. coincidence? well probably but what if it's NOT? is Seth MacFarlane trying to tell us he's secretly a Caroline in the city fan?

7) let's look at it in a meta way. Seth MacFarlane is the voice of peter griffin. in a way they're one and the same, aren't they? peter griffin wasn't really pretending to be gay, because he was at home watching citc on his own as i already mentioned it. is it just a guilty pleasure for him? is Seth MacFarlane too ashamed to admit he enjoys Caroline in the city so he has to communicate it through jokes in his tv shows?

8) or there's the other interpretation that makes me sound like the gaylor truthers but hear me out. if Seth Rudesky thinks watching Caroline in the city makes you gay but he's also signalling that he probably watched at least some of it, is he just trying to come out to us?

i once thought about turning this into a youtube video essay but I'm not sure anyone would watch it. that being said, i might still do it, why not?

[padfootagain]

Pirates! (V)

Chapter 5:  The Departure of the Two Ships

Hello, lovelies! Here we go with a new chapter for this Caspian fic!

I hope you like this new chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Caspian x Pirate!Reader

Warnings: depictions of violence in later chapters (fight scenes… nothing too terrible), slow burn, fluff!

Summary: As ships disappear across the sea, Caspian is forced to go investigate himself. But to win against the wild uncharted waters he must cross to reach his people, he needs to bargain with pirates. And then, he finds you…

Word Count: 2724

Masterlist for the series – Caspian’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

The morning of the departure had arrived. The tide was perfect, the last details were being set before starting your journey. And Caspian was excited. There was always a rush of adrenaline running through his veins when he stared out at the horizon, at the infinite sea, and remembered that he would be headed towards this infinite line.

The weather was good as well, lazy clouds turning the sky grey, a steady wind that would ensure your speed but the sea remained calm, with barely any waves to disturb its surface. The two ships were heavy with supplies, with food and wine and all that you would need in your long journey eastward. You expected to be gone for at least a couple of months, and you knew that these journeys were exhausting, for your ship and your crew. You were as ready as you could be, though. And so was Caspian.

Sylvia had already climbed on board of the Dawn Treader, and Reepicheep was showing her around. Caspian, Drinian and Lacusa were watching them from afar.

The entire crew had received their orders, the most important ones being that Caspian’s identity was to remain a secret, and that if asked about him by Sylvia they were to answer that he was a rich but rather unimportant Lord in Narnia. Nothing worth the trouble of a ransom…

No one was to go into his cabin except for Lacusa, Reepicheep and Drinian, the latter being in charge while Caspian was serving on the Bleeding Twilight. But most importantly, all were to keep an eye on the pirate…

“I still believe that it is a bad idea to have one of them here,” Drinian mumbled under his breath, his arms crossed.

“I have to agree, on this one,” Lacusa nodded. “Especially this one. She seems… cunning.”

“But having their second in command on board means they will not try to sink our ship at the first occasion,” Caspian replied, throwing a bag full of clothes, maps, and other of his belongings on his shoulder. “I am certain you will be just fine.”

“You going over there is madness, Your Majesty,” Drinian argued.

Caspian couldn’t refrain an amused smile.

“Are you saying that I have lost my mind?”

“I would never dare, of course, but you must admit…”

“No one knows who I am. I will be just fine. It is not in their interest to hurt me in any way, just like it is not in our interest to hurt them. Besides, it will be rather pleasant to not be called Majesty, for once. Brings me back to my more innocent youth…”

The three men chuckled at that, and shared a handshake before Caspian would leave the Dawn Treader.

Only a few steps taken in the brownish sand, and Caspian walked onto the bridge of your ship, the wood creaking under his feet.

The Bleeding Twilight seemed a little old, and in the few seconds that he took to look around, he spotted easily several pieces of your ship that would have needed repairs or improvements. It was a fair ship all the same. The sails were of a deep red hue, and he guessed it explained her name.

You had brought your ship right next to the Dawn Treader, in the small creek where its purple sails were safely hidden. The two ships were so close, one could have jumped from a bridge to the other. On both ships, the crew was busy, bringing the last goods on board, checking the sails, getting ready to leave… it was a whirlwind of busy bees…

"Peter!"

Caspian turned around, although it took him a second to react. He really had to work on his response to that name. You seemed to have your doubts about him already, as you had pointed out that day in the bar, but he still had to put up a show for the rest of your crew.

He gave you a courteous nod and you welcomed him with a polite smile in return.

"Welcome aboard The Bleeding Twilight. It’s always nice to welcome a new member of the crew.”

You came to stand right next to him, your smile polite, the decisiveness in your tone showed that you would not accept exceptions on your ship, no matter who Caspian might be.

“You will sleep with the crew," you instructed him. "You will not be allowed to walk around the ship without one of my crewmembers accompanying you."

"I am not your enemy."

"But you are not my friend either. So, you will forgive me if I take a few precautions. I doubt that your crew will act any differently with Sylvia.”

He couldn’t find an argument against your words. Before leaving his ship, Caspian had given this very order to Drinian.

“I do understand that you are a man of power on your ship,” you went on, a bright smile now on your face, full of something mischievous. “So… congratulations, you’ll be spared of cleaning duties. However, you are still a member of my crew, and as such, you will obey our rules.”

“Very well,” Caspian nodded.

You pointed at the high mast that towered your whole ship. He noticed that the wood was carved in the shape of a wave at one spot.

“First rule: if you come aboard, you need to touch the waves carved there and pray.”

“Pray?” Caspian frowned, quite taken aback.

“I don’t care who your God is, but send a prayer their way so we all come back in one piece. Or rich… at the very least,” you explained, your smile still on your lips. “If you don’t, you’ll bring us bad luck… and we truly don’t need that when at sea.”

You waited for him to do as he was told, but Caspian remained quite puzzled. Of course, he was aware of the sailors’ tendency for superstitions. To some extent, he was superstitious as well. He always rested the same foot first on the bridge, he always rested his right hand on the helm first… He had never heard of this tradition though.

He watched as a girl, not older than fifteen, climbed on board and aimed straight for the carving, closing her eyes, muttering a few words, before she would walk away and resume her duties across the bridge.

So, Caspian did the same.

He walked to the mast, rested his hand on the old wood. He could feel that the carving was ancient, it had become smooth with time, after hundreds of fingers and palms rested upon its surface. It was reassuring, in a strange way, Caspian was not certain how to explain it but… he felt… calm.

He closed his eyes, his lips remaining sealed as he formed a prayer in his mind.

Aslan, bring us home safely. Help us find our people. Protect us on our way home.

It only lasted a few seconds, before Caspian would open his eyes again, let his hand slip from the carving to fall by his side again. He turned to you once more, and you gave him a short nod. You were satisfied.

You joined him again.

“Good. Now, on a pirate ship, we believe in democracy. We discuss, we argue, we vote. Every important decision is presented to the crew, and voted. Before we leave, we must elect the captain as well.”

“Elect the captain? I thought that you were the captain…”

“I am. For now. If someone else wants to become captain, they are free to offer their candidacy, and the vote of the crew will determine who the captain will be. You can run for captaincy, if you’d like, as you are part of the crew. However… I do not think that my crew will vote for a perfect stranger. You might as well save yourself the humiliation,” you joked, and Caspian couldn’t refrain a smile.

“I think I will pass on that offer.”

You reached for a parchment inside the pocket of your red coat.

“This is your contract,” you handed him the parchment. “I’ve already added your name to the registry of the ship, but this is your copy of your contract. As a member of the crew, you are granted a portion of every amount of goods or money that we will gather while you serve on the ship. The details for compensations in case of wounds or death are also included. Do you have a wife or a lover we should warn in case something happens to you?”

“I… no, I am not married,” Caspian answered, quite taken aback. But he took the parchment you were handing him all the same, and started to quickly go through the document.

You had your first information about him. He could read. So… he was probably quite rich… But then again, if he was a Lord, it wasn’t that surprising.

Also, he wasn’t married. That would help with extracting information from him…

Caspian frowned a little at the long list of possible wounds that were covered by the contract. It was almost like an insurance, really.

Loss of a finger: 10 golden coins

Loss of a hand: 60 golden coins + full payment for a wooden hand

Loss of a leg: 60 golden coins + full payment for a wooden leg and crutches

The list went on…

“If you are wounded, you will obviously remain part of the crew, and we will give you some work adapted to your situation,” you went on, speaking in a neutral tone, matter-of-factly. You might as well have been talking about the weather. “Talking about work! You will be spared cleaning the decks, but you will receive duties as everyone else. You seem quite strong… you’ll go with Maya and Sophie. They’ll brief you on how to work the sails. Everything is rationed, but then again, I expect it is the same on your ship as well. Anyone caught stealing food or water will be punished accordingly.”

“Accordingly… meaning?”

Your smile widened.

“You will be thrown overboard to drown.”

Caspian clenched his jaw, but nodded, signalling that he had understood.

Clearly, you weren’t that good-hearted.

“The complete list of rules and punishments are written at the back of your contract. There are only three crimes leading to a possible execution: stealing food or water, killing a crewmate, and mutiny. Of course… you will be judged before being killed; the decision will be taken by a vote involving the whole crew.”

“How merciful,” Caspian mumbled, but his sarcasm only made you laugh. “And how many members of your crew have you had to throw overboard in the past?”

“None. Let’s hope you won’t turn into my first!” you answered with a bright grin, but he didn’t fail to notice how intense your gaze was upon him, and if your demeanour was pleasant, he knew you would not hesitate to put him back in line. “You’ll find that I’m a rather fair captain, as long as you follow our rules, and don’t try to betray us.”

“This is duly noted.”

“Good.”

Charlotte climbed on board, and hurried directly towards you after she had completed her ritual prayer.

“All is set, Captain. We’re ready to go.”

“Sylvia?”

“She’s aboard their ship. On the bridge.”

“Good, let’s gather everyone and vote then.”

Charlotte got the order for everyone to gather around, ringing the bell set next to the helm. Everyone gathered on the bridge. Caspian was surprised to spot children on board, the youngest barely nine or ten years old. There was an old woman as well, who was guided by two younger sailors. She seemed to be blind. Three women used crutches, two others had only one arm. He spotted several Narnians as well: two badgers, two Minotaurs, several foxes, wolves and mice… He was surprised to find so many different people on your ship.

This crew was more surprising than he expected…

Aboard the Dawn Treader, Sylvia jumped on the railing, peering inside your ship. You waved at her as you spotted her.

“Can you hear me, Sylvia?” you asked, raising your voice as you climbed a couple of the steps leading to the helm, so that everyone on board could see you.

“Yes, Captain!” she answered.

“Alright, let’s vote then!”

On the Dawn Treader, the sailors had stopped working. They were ready, yes, but they were also intrigued by what was happening on the ship next to theirs. Even Drinian and Reepicheep stopped and listened.

“First, let’s vote for our mission,” you spoke loudly, your voice clear and firm, while Charlotte was taking notes by your side. “We are to guide this Narnian ship through the Eastern seas, in search for their lost companions. We will be paid only if we accompany them all the way back here, but we are free to leave unpaid if the risks are too high. For this, they have offered to pay us over twenty thousand golden coins.”

A whisper crossed the deck, and Caspian caught two women before him speaking quietly to each other.

“That’s the money we were still missing!” one of them said.

“At last! We could do it all!”

Caspian listened closely, but couldn’t find any other information.

What did you all miss money for…?

“All in favour, raise your hand now.”

Everyone raised their hand. Caspian hesitated, but the woman next to him nudged him in the side.

“You need to vote, you’re part of the crew now,” she told him.

So, he raised his hand. Aboard the Dawn Treader, Sylvia raised her paw as well.

“This is adopted, we will carry on this mission,” you declared, and your voice was followed by loud cheers.

“Second point,” you went on once calm was back across the bridge. “The contracts are identical to the ones you have signed for our last journey at sea. If there is no objection, we will keep them unchanged for this new journey.”

But a hand was raised, a couple of rows before Caspian. You told the woman to speak by a mere nod.

“My daughter is turning fourteen this month,” she said, looking tenderly at the girl standing by her side. “She needs an adult contract, like mine.”

You smiled at the two of them, but you talked directly to the girl, not to her mother.

“Your contract is ready, you will receive it after the votes. Along with a proper sword, and a second weapon of your choice.”

All cheered again, but Caspian frowned.

Fourteen… she was just a child…

But the blond girl seemed ecstatic, and proud.

“Anything else?” you asked your crew, but all remained silent.

You nodded, a benevolent smile on your lips.

“Let’s vote then! All in favour?”

Again, all raised their hands.

“The contracts are adopted,” you nodded, and Charlotte, once again, took notes. “Last point: you must choose your captain for this journey. Is anyone volunteering for the title?”

But all remained silent. Your smile widened.

“Alright then. All in favour of keeping me as your captain, raise your hands.”

All raised their hands once again, and all cheered.

“I choose Sylvia as my second in command,” you spoke loudly, and the rabbit gave you a nod. “Anyone against this decision?”

But all remained quiet.

“As she is to stay on the vessel we are to guide, as a proof of good will from our part, Charlotte will be my right hand in her absence. We also welcome a member of the Narnian crew aboard, as leverage. Say hello to Peter, the new boy!”

All laughed, a couple of people nudged Caspian playfully. He gave them all a humorous smile.

“If he steps out of line, you are all allowed to kick his arse,” you joked, bringing more cheers from your crew.

You were laughing as well. Mischief shining in your eyes. The wind getting caught in your long coat, in the blue feather trapped in your hat.

Caspian didn’t know what to make of you because… because you seemed dangerous, almost ruthless. And yet, when he looked at you standing there now, grinning, looking at your crew with fondness… he couldn’t see anything truly evil in you.

He didn’t know what to make of you because… well, because maybe he liked you quite a bit, when he knew that he shouldn’t.

********************************

Taglist : @reg-arcturus-black

[princeescaluswords]

When people go "Stiles never trusted Theo" I'm like "He *did* trust him to keep his secret, he certainly trusted him more than his own supposed best friend whom he thought so little of that he assumed immediately he'd look down on him"

You and I have often joked about "people should have been bullied by their English teachers more" but it's not just a joke, is it? The reduction of media consumption to a narrow set of shared tropes has rendered almost any sort of nuanced experience impossible. The fandom sees any and every type of story almost exclusively in terms of whom can be shipped with whom. It leads to partisanship instead of comprehension and frustration with parts of the narrative that have nothing to do with romance and/or sex.

For example, that's the reason why I've been seeing outrage in the fandom for the new Interview with the Vampire over the way Lestat has been portrayed in the most recent episode. Fandom was so excited by the chance for their "toxic but loving mlm relationship" addiction to get its fix that they ignored the clear signs that Lestat's possessive love, shallow self-absorption, and culturally inculcated disdain for those he saw as lesser than himself would ultimately create unbearable horror for Louis and Claudia.

Instead of experiencing the story and what it's actually trying to say, they immediately rebel because they've been allowed to believe that consuming media means imposing their favorite tropes and fetishes on it. Due to this entitlement, "Enemies to lovers, slow burn, 300k" has become the enemy of actually being a receptive audience.

Nothing, nothing, embodies this more than fandom's reaction to Season 5 of Teen Wolf. Their interpretation of its plot is ridiculously shallow simply because that ridiculously shallow interpretation suits their needs, which was to make Stiles the victim of Scott's role as lead protagonist, rather than Stiles being the victim of Theo and the Doctors and their need to make Scott not a victim at all.

If a viewer would take off the stan-goggles for a moment, Theo and the Dread Doctors targeted each of the pack's weaknesses, of course, but not just any of their weaknesses. They targeted weaknesses that arose out of the pack's strengths as well. I could go into each of them, and I will upon request, but the pack's trust in each other can be underlined by the scene in Parasomnia (5x02):

Scott: Why can't you trust anyone?

Stiles: Because you trust everyone!

The key that the fandom misses in their need to impose their own desired outcome on the story is that both of these lines are intentionally wrong. Scott does not trust everyone. He didn't trust Derek, or Peter, or Gerard, or Deucalion, among others. But most importantly, he doesn't actually trust himself. He doesn't trust his own emotions, his own intelligence, or his own nature. It's why he can't bring himself to tell Kira about her fox spirit, because he would have to say he's afraid. It's why he doesn't tell Liam about the plan, because he's "not sure if it's going to work." It's why he tells his mother that things have changed "because of me."

Stiles on the other hand, trusts a lot of people. He trusts his own instincts and usefulness, which is why he's still haunted by the time they were taken from him. He trusts Scott's virtue, which is why he assumes that Scott would choose being morally right over him. He trusts Theo but only after Theo confirms Stiles's own initial judgement. And yes, he does trust Theo, because he works with him, he assumes Theo will keep their secrets, which is why Stiles was surprised by the wrench "where did you get that?", and, most importantly, he trusts Theo will keep his word when he offers "I'll tell you where your father is but only if you promise not to help Scott."

Now, of course, the stans will come back with that scene in Memory Found (6x09) where Theo tells Noah "He was smart enough not to trust me" and completely miss the context of that scene. Theo is locked in a jail cell in a city being attacked by the Wild Hunt, and he wants out and the only person with the key card demands to be told something about the son he's forgotten. Of course, Theo is going to say something that plays to the sheriff's biases in order to get what he wants. That is Theo's thing; that's his modus operandi. But fandom as usual decides that they need to take Theo's words at face value, as if they don't supposedly hate Scott for doing the exact same thing.

What's sad is they miss some of Teen Wolf's best writing when they shuck context in order to make the story serve their agenda. How many times have you read the fact that Derek or Peter or Theo has saved people's lives, so that means others should trust them, only to forget that this was exactly how Theo got people to trust him in Season 5A. As well as how Peter got people to trust him in Smoke & Mirrors (4x12) and how Derek got Scott to trust him in Lunatic (1x09). (Yet, strangely, Scott saving lives means nothing to them.)

Trust isn't a simple thing, not for Scott or Stiles or anyone. It's difficult yet worth pursuing, and Teen Wolf's writing doesn't shy away from exploring it. That complexity is completely eliminated in fandom's urge to promote certain ships and certain characters. They need to take English again.

[kitcat992]

│Identity Saga │Narrative Discourse (The Steps to "Son")

Identity Saga

It doesn't matter how much time dwindles on since writing the first installment of the Identity Saga; some days, it feels no different than if it were last week. And completing Tony's journey of self-growth — allowing himself to open up and bring Peter into his life as 'more than a mentee' — was absolutely one of my favorite things about writing Identity Theft.

I remember starting this story the night I saw Infinity War; I fell head over heels for what little interaction we saw between Tony and Peter in that movie, combined with Spider-Man: Homecoming. And like most things I latched onto those seeds and breadcrumbs and went wild with it. I wanted to see create the journey that got Tony to being a "dad figure" and decide if I was going to do it, I'd be going all in. It was the slowest of burns I've ever written, but the most satisfying, all at the same time.

Through-out Identity Theft, we watched Tony and Peter evolve after a 6ish month gap from Homecoming to narrative present. From "mentee" to "like a son", it was a huge pleasure (and one of my biggest accomplishments, at the time) to take Tony through that journey. Following each event of the story, we got to see himself allow the destruction of the barricades that kept him from bringing someone close into his life. And most importantly, begin to see himself as a pseudo father-figure — especially after the hangups he's had in his own life.

As Identity Crisis comes to a conclusion — with the second installment following Peter's journey from "mentor" to "like a dad" — I think it's important to revisit the narrative discourse of Tony's character growth through this saga. Providing relationships that felt "earned" through organic growth and pacing was my goal with this series, and even with the word count far exceeding what I ever anticipated (along with a time-frame that I never expected in completing the saga) I'm very proud to have gotten these characters where they are in the narrative.

Tony deserved this in the MCU. In my little sandbox of stories, he got it.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 1: Prologue

Tony scoffed, mildly amused. “Jesus kid, that’s the best question you can come up with? That part was borderline child's play.”

“Yeah, well, no, it’s just —” Peter stumbled over his words, scooting his stool closer to where Tony sat. And then closer after that. “Facial recognition typically uses bio metrics for its body measurements and calculations, to—to you know, refer to metrics related to human characteristics, but its used in access control, never memory stored control. And I can’t imagine a simple storage unit could hold all this information and relay it back to the recognition program in time to provide results, so…how'd you do it?"

Tony hummed, giving a short and sharp nod. If there was one thing he could always count on, it was that Parker could talk his head off when it came to science. And while he had days where he doubted supplying the kid with so much technology to support his vigilante heroism — six months ago, for example, when the Ferry Incident was still fresh in his mind — it was moments like this that renewed his confidence in the young lad.

He wouldn't admit it aloud, but it made him proud.

Or some mutated form of the emotion he hadn't quite figured it out yet.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 6: Breakfast at Tony’s

“My intent was never malicious with Peter." Tony sighed, rubbing harshly at the nape of his neck. "He’s just a boy trying to keep his family and friends safe and honestly, can you be angry with that? None of you can look me in the eye and say you wouldn’t want the same thing." Tony noticeably turned to Clint. "Hell, Barton, your entire family is a secret from the world.”

Clint shrugged, not making an attempt to dispute the fact.

Tony continued on, “I respected his request and followed through with it. So if you have anyone to be mad at, it’s me — but it’d be pretty damn stupid to stay mad over something like this. We have bigger fish to fry.”

Rhodey looked between him and Peter, raising an eyebrow with curiosity.

“You trust him then?” he asked.

It was easy for Rhodey to tell when Tony was bullshitting. They had been friends for a long time, way before Iron Man, long before Afghanistan — there was a foundation between them that couldn’t be rattled. His entire life changed along with Tony’s, somehow joining him in the crazy ride of War Machine, the brief blip of Iron Patriot, and ultimately landing with the Avengers.

So when Tony nodded, he wholeheartedly believed him.

“I do,” Tony said, flapping a hand in Peter's general vicinity. “He’s good. He’s better than good, he’s great.”

Nobody missed how Peter looked up at hearing those words, his eyes sparkling with a sense of pride that made him grin ear-to-ear. For a moment, Tony looked nowhere else but at that. A shadow of a grin washed across his own face, something that not one person in the room didn’t notice.

The exchange was brief, but unique, giving Tony a different light to him; a humility that bounced off him no different than the skylights from above.

Steve noted that.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 7: New Kid on the Block

Tony pounded on the kid's back as he coughed dirty river water onto the ground with each action, his inhales wet and rickety.

“Breathe, kid, breathe…” he calmly instructed him, obviously not wavered by the thumbs up that Peter insisted on giving, not until his coughs dissipate and his breaths were less shaky.

Peter took a deep inhale, this time clean and dry. He watched in front of him as Sam contained the much smaller rock creature — and he laughed.

“Holy crap, he’s so small now! That’s just…” Peter grinned ear-to-ear. “That was so awesome! Way more awesome than the Android, which is still so awesome. Holy crap, that was —”

Peter stopped mid-sentence as Tony removed his Iron Man mask, exposing much less happy features than what he was experiencing.

Oh crap. He was in trouble — he had to be in trouble - he must have screwed up and now they were angry with him, again — angry again. Heart plummeting to the sopping wet soles of his feet, Peter gulped hard enough to shake his throat.

“Mr. Stark, I —”

His apology was cut short when Tony laid a hand on his shoulder, sighing with relief.

“You did good, kid,” he said. “You scared the devil out of me, but you did real good.”

Peter grinned, possibly wider than before. Mr. Stark wasn’t angry — no, he seemed almost…proud. And though it wasn’t much, barely a twitch of his lips, he could tell Tony was also smiling.

He did good.

Peter nodded in thanks, wiping away the dirty water from his mouth. He did good.

Those few words were the best he had heard in a long time, feeling a sense of pride in himself that he hadn’t felt in months. Suddenly, all the overlapping failures washed away — the Daily Bugle's headlines didn't mean squat to him. Not with the approval he'd just received.

Tony must have noticed his happiness, because he went from having his hand on him to wrapping his entire arm around his shoulder with a tight squeeze.

Peter relished in it.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 8: Afterparty

It wasn’t too long into their trip to Queens though that Peter fell quiet, and Tony briefly considered turning on music to fill the silence. Sparing a glance to the passenger’s seat where Peter sat, he ultimately decided against it.

“Damn, kid,” Tony muttered. “Talked yourself right to sleep.”

While he would have liked to believe as much, Tony knew better than that. He could see the day was wearing thin on Peter by the time the sun had set, the bags under his eyes growing darker with each hour. He had to wonder if the kid had even slept last night.

Still, he kept up the facade well, eagerly talking to everyone like the energizer bunny he was.

That was the thing with Peter — always moving, always bouncing and jittery.

Tony could only imagine how much adrenaline had pumped through the kid’s veins, between last nights adventure and then his geeky-self getting overwhelmed hanging out with the team. It had to be enough energy to fuel a third world country, and the crash was probably just as bad.

He looked back to the road, a soft sigh escaping his lips. He wasn’t sure how or when he got into this situation, but deep down inside, he knew it didn’t bother him. The fact it didn’t bother him probably bothered him, but he’d deal with that another time.

The kid did good today. He did better than good, he did great — fantastic, amazing even. This little amazing Spider-Man saving the day like a pro. It was like a sense of pride that bubbled within him, happy to see the kid excel, take the reins at the crazy job he was thrown into.

Tony knew Peter had it within him. To be the hero, to be better than he was. He just needed the guidance.

It was something Howard Stark failed at.

His father gave him all the money in the world, but he never gave the guidance Tony needed. It took Afghanistan for him to realize he needed to be his own light in the darkness. It took more than that to realize he had to do better for the world — the Battle of New York, Ultron. The Accords, and the dismantling that followed.

Looking over at Peter again, Tony softened. He didn’t know what it was about the teenager that drew him in like a magnet. All he needed was an extra hand in Berlin, something to convince Rogers that he was off his rocker and needed to come to his senses. They should have parted ways after that, there was no reason for him to become so connected. And yet half his year was spent focused on the Spider-kid —

No.

Peter.

He was focused on Peter.

It was almost as if they were one in the same. Two damaged souls just trying to make the world a better place, so their pain wouldn’t be experienced by anyone else.

Tony knew he shouldn’t be getting so close. People close to him got hurt — he hurt those close to him. It was instinct by this point; the toxic, inevitable nature within him that he couldn’t shake. And now Peter was close — he was close to the team, his life, his world —

It was asking for trouble.

Somehow, along the journey he had taken as Iron Man, this fifteen-year-old kid looked up to him. He was a role model now — what the hell was he supposed to do with that? There wasn’t anything good about him to look up to. If anything, he was the example of what not to do.

'Don't do anything I would do. And don't do anything I wouldn't do.'

Yeah, that summed him up pretty damn well.

Tony looked up in the rearview mirror, the headlights from behind them highlighting the browns in his eyes. It was strange — an odd feeling, knowing Peter admired him. It kind of made him sick to his stomach, and not just because of the sappiness behind it all.

This was dangerous territory. Guiding a kid, mentoring a kid. This wasn't what he set out to do.

Being Iron Man, flying in the skies, saving the world — that seemed like a piece of cake compared to this. There wasn’t a playbook on how to mentor a teenager — scratch that, a teenage superhero.

The most he could do was try.

It would mean headaches — all kinds of headaches, frustration, stress — Tony knew exactly what kind of trouble this was asking for. But he owed it to the kid to at least try.

He owed it to himself.

“Is it worth it, Tony?” Steve had asked him. “Is he worth it?”

The procession of streetlights and passing cars illuminated the interior of the car, shinning inside just long enough for Tony to catch the sight of Peter curled up in the leather passenger seat. His head was lolled to the side, his arms clutching the bag that contained his spider-suit. His mouth was slightly ajar, and light snores slipped out with each breath he took.

Yeah, Tony decided. He’s worth it.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 10: And Washed the Spider Out

Somehow, and for some reason, Tony's eyes locked onto the scattered papers on his desk.

The MIT brochures stared back at him.

Mocking him.

“I just…I don’t know, Mr. Stark.” Peter hesitantly set the brochures on the work table, stepping back with caution. “I can’t leave New York. What about Spider-Man, protecting the little guy? I can’t do that from MIT. And—and I can’t —”

“You can’t what?” Tony snapped in a way that was purely controlled, a vibration of intimidation that shook Peter’s core. If looks could kill, he'd surely be six feet under from the piercing glare the billionaire gave him.

Peter bowed his head, his eyes locked on his dirty sneakers.

“I can’t leave Aunt May.” His words were quiet, his hand rubbing at the nape of his neck. “She needs me, Mr. Stark. I can’t just leave her...not yet.”

Tony squeezed the screwdriver in his hand so tightly that the metal tip broke through skin, a stream of blood trickling out.

It didn't hurt enough. It ached, throbbed, and stung, but it didn't hurt enough to distract him from the sickening pain in his heart.

So he did the only thing he could think of.

“Goddamnit!”

It took one sweep of his arm to knock over everything on the table. Papers, tools, and random mechanical parts fell to the ground with a clatter and bang. It wasn’t long after that he decided, screw it, the entire table can join them. And then once he knocked the table to the ground, Tony kicked the chair over as well. He kicked it — kicked, kicked and kicked it, slamming it against the wall with the force of his anger. 

“Damn it!” he kicked repeatedly, angrily. “Damn it, GOD FUCKING DAMN IT!”

He screamed because he needed to, his voice harsh and jarring, because he had to, because this isn't happening, this isn't real, this can't be real.

But it was. Tony had no ability to change it, no amount of money to fix it, no control over any of it. He croaked as his knees buckled under his weight, pathetically sinking down onto the stool with a deafening headache starting to drown out the scratchy pain in his throat.

And he let himself be.

It was like a tidal wave, the grief. Washing over him instantaneously.

He heard the whoosh of the sliding doors but never the alert from his AI. Because he shut it off, of course. Though he wouldn’t have needed the warning to begin with.

Tony knew exactly who it was.

“You’ve gone too far with your override privileges, Pep.”

His voice was so ragged he didn't even recognize it, wet with tears and clouded with pain. It didn't sound like him at all.

“Tony...” Her voice was steadier than he expected it to be. 

He was reluctant to let her near him. To let her feel the anger and shame radiating off him, to see him in such a weak, pathetic state. Yet he never made a move to otherwise stop her.

She knew it all, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

“He was just a kid." Tony shut his eyes and held them tight. “I’m the adult. I was supposed to protect him. He was just a kid.”

Hunched over on the stool, Tony never moved. Pepper approached him and without any hesitation, without any shame, wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled his head close to her, letting him rest in the tuck of her stomach where she stood.

“It’s okay, Tony.” Pepper ran her hand through his hair. “It’s okay…”

It hit him with capsizing quickness. Tony felt himself pulled forward, as if the weight in his chest was enough to define gravity. The sobs wretched through him and he wailed, like a dying animal, crying in agony.

They came one after another, harsh and loud, until he couldn't breathe, until he was gasping from the exertion of dissolving into his emotions. Her shirt became soaked with his tears, but neither cared. She held him closer as his cries howled in the room.

“It’s okay, Tony.” Pepper’s own voice cracked. “Shhh, it’s okay.”

There was no physical mark, no external catalyst for his distress — he made it out okay. He wasn’t swallowed up by the burning flames, eating away at his flesh and muscles and stripping him of the life he knew. He was okay.

But he was still burning, gasping with panic at flames that didn't exist.

Throat aching, his sobs died to thin, whistling intakes of air, choking on his own tears when they hiccupped in his throat.

“I can’t fix this. I can’t fix this,” Tony gasped, over and over. “I can’t fix this, Pep. I can’t bring him back.”

Pepper held him tighter, her own tears salty on her lips.

“I failed him." He choked on another sob, pulling tight at his chest. "I — I failed him.”

Pepper didn't respond.

Tony didn't need her to.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 11: Avengers Disassembled

“We lost him too, you know," Steve's voice was almost too quiet to hear.

Tony wished it had been.

“You lost him?” Tony scoffed, the sound piercingly angry. He slammed his mug down on the table, uncaring as the contents split everywhere. "I'm sorry, exactly how long did you know him?"

Steve met his angry eyes with soft ones, stripping him of every decade he slept frozen in ice.

“You’re right,” he nodded, struggling to find the right words to say — it showed in the bob of his throat, highlighting the shadow that covered his jaw. “It's not that I don't wish I had known him sooner. Or longer. Because I do, we all do. Peter was a good kid." Steve frowned, the downward tug of his lips creating lines on his face Tony hadn't seen before. "It's just...he obviously meant a lot to you, Tony. I don’t think I’ve ever…”

There was a pause.

Steve looked down to the coffee cup on the table, watching as the mess began to leak driblets onto the ground. One drop at a time, creating a small puddle on the marble floor. A mess that somebody, at some point, would need to clean up.

“You called him your kid.” Steve forced his eyes away from the dripping coffee, back to where Tony sat. His head tilted to the side, just narrowly. “Last week…out on the island…you called him your kid.”

The coffee kept dripping.

Tony barely craned his head around to look at Steve — close enough now that if he wanted to take a seat next to him on the couch, he could. If Tony hadn't been so confused, he would've made a run for the other sofa. Or jump straight down the stairs, need be. Whatever it meant to get Steve away from him.

Curiosity always did win when it came to Stark's. And Steve's out-of-the-blue comment was just enough to grab his attention.

"Your point?" Tony made a face that was caught between insulted and perplexed, and something else he was too tired to figure out.

Steve found himself leaning against the armrest of the sofa, slowly, enough that the movement didn't jostle the man sitting there.

“Tony…” Steve started to say. “Was he actually your son —?”

“No!” Tony's eyes were wide enough to fall onto the floor. Jesus, if that didn't get him to sober up quickly. "Christ, no, I didn't have — no!"

He definitely needed to go heavier on the whiskey. Tony brought a hand to his forehead, not realizing it was wet with coffee until it smeared against his temple. He cursed under his breath, rubbing the back of his hand roughly against his jeans before returning to a halfhearted temple massage.

This was exactly the shit he'd been worried about with Parker. Rumors, speculation, tabloid garbage nonsense that would spread like wildfire — this was part of why he wanted to keep Peter secret from the team.

A scoff shook his back. So much for that.

Despite Tony's outburst, Steve still seemed wary. His head tilted further to the side, his confusion deepening. All the more visible underneath the lack of sleep that coated his features.

It was a tired Captain America that Tony took pity on. His confusion was no different than Bambi on a dewy morning, lost and looking for answers. Glancing over at Steve — really looking at him — and Tony didn't understand how even the blues of his eyes had deepened with that confusion. It was almost enough to make him scoff again — because of course Rogers could pull off the Bambi eyes when he wanted to.

Screw it. It didn't matter now. It didn't matter what the team knew and what they didn't know.

It wasn't like Peter was around to worry about anymore.

"He wasn't...he wasn't my kid, no," Tony let out that scoff after all. "He’s been — he was— hanging around here. A lot. More often than I probably should have let him.”

Tony adjusted himself on the sofa, attempting to straighten his back in a way that would evoke poise they both knew he didn’t have right now. The sip of coffee he took only further deteriorated that attempt. The hand holding his mug began to tremble with the liquid he hadn't consumed in ages.

“What can I say, he was needy and I needed..." Tony didn't realize his foot was tapping against the floor until the sound started to aggravate him. "It doesn't matter what I needed."

Identity Theft│ Chapter 12: The Doctor Is In

“You came here to tell us Peter is still alive." Wanda looked up at Strange, the expression that fell on her face tighter than the words that thickened her accent. "You want us to find him.”

It wasn't a question. Rather, an acknowledgment of his task.

Stephen simply nodded. “I have been warned, by the Vishanti, that the death of your ward —”

“He wasn’t my ward,” Tony snapped.

Stephen noticeably rolled his eyes. “Whatever relationship exists here — it’s the catalyst. If not taken care of, it will start a chain of events beyond our control of stopping. Beyond even my control of stopping.”

“What chain of events?” Tony asked, hard-pressed, the liquor that left his system no longer at play for his anger. “What’s so awful from one kid kicking the bucket?”

Stephen didn't answer right away. The silence that followed seemed to be the longest yet, with a faint line deepening across his forehead.

Finally, “I have not been granted that knowledge.”

Maybe it was the sleep deprivation. Or perhaps the day’s events finally took a toll on him. Maybe, even, he couldn't handle his whisky as well as he could in the past. But for a moment, Tony stared ahead blankly, unable to think of a proper response. His mind went empty, his brain going blank. He blinked, once and then twice, before wearily shaking his head.

“Alright, I’ve entertained this long enough.” Tony turned around, shooing him away with his arm. “Grab your rabbit and leave through your top hat, or whatever pyrotechnic light show you have in your back pocket. I’m not sending anyone to walk you out, so you’re on your own —”

“Your kid is still alive!” Stephen argued, stepping forward — his feet hit the floor as loud as his voice broke through his throat.

Tony spun fast on his heels, the rage in his eyes blazing hot. “I watched him die.”

Stephen shook his head. “You watched a building explode.”

Tony pointed an accusing finger his way. “That he was in.”

Stephen slammed an open palm into his chest.

And the world stopped.

Tony felt it before he saw it. A sudden displacement from his body, as if his mind had become its own entity; disconnecting from everything that held him grounded in the real world.

Stephen used one hand to grab the wrist of the finger that pointed at him, yanking him forward in one harsh tug. With one fluid motion, he slammed his open palm into Tony's chest. The strike was so hard it knocked him off balance.

Or at least, it would have. It should have.

Tony was witnessing real time in milliseconds, possibly even slower. Fractions of milliseconds. Fractions of fractions of milliseconds. He stared at his own body — his own body, caught in slow motion, stumbling backward.

Stephen's hand was still on him, covering his t-shirt, the balls of his heels barely having barely lifted off the ground.

With shaking panic, Tony realized that he wasn’t in his body anymore.

He stared at his hands with disbelief. The rough, callous fingers were so faint, so tangible that he could see the floor below him, as if his skin were made of sheer glass. His physical body continued to fall backward, centimeter by centimeter, destined to hit the floor. The surrounding world around him moved like molasses; all as he floated away, a translucent form with no control.

And then, he was sent soaring.

Tony could feel the air knocked from his lungs at the forced momentum, losing all connection with the world that once was. He could feel the wind fly through his hair, hitting his skin, his stomach rolling with waves of nausea as he flew faster than Iron Man could ever dream of going.

It was a blur and spectrum of colors. A roller coaster caught within a kaleidoscope. Tony was vaguely aware that he was shouting, possibly even screaming — hysterically screaming. But he couldn’t comprehend anything that was going on.

He couldn’t connect with what was around him.

And then he stopped. Face to face with dazed, glassy, brown eyes.

Young eyes.

Panicked eyes.

Peter’s eyes.

Tony could hear the kid's breathing — each inhale raspy, forced. For one split of a second, he heard a heartbeat.

Alive.

Living. 

One blink, and everything was gone.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 12: The Doctor Is In

Tony took a deep breath, this time through his mouth, and tried to hone in his mind. He even closed his eyes the second time around. The crickets chirped, and his own breath echoed in his ears, all the while he faintly heard Strange whisper under his breath.

“Clear your mind…”

Tony was never good at meditation. If he had an idea for an invention, he could focus on it for months. If given an object to fix, he’d do his damnedest to repair it. But mediation meant silence, and silence usually followed uncomfortable thoughts.

Howard, his mom. Afghanistan, Obadiah, Vanko, Hammer, Killian…

He shook his head, fighting to steer his mind in the right direction. These people brought his demons to life; they weren’t what — and who — he needed to be focused on. They were people that made his life hell. People who were out to get him.

Loki, Barnes, Ultron —

‘Come on, treat this like a problem.' Tony growled, the sound muted in his chest. 'You can fix this. You can fix yourself.’

It was a joke to even trick himself into that. He knew he could never fix himself. But he was lucky enough to have people around him to get him through the day. Pepper, Rhodey — hell, though he hated to admit it, he had the entire team of Avengers watching his back. He may be a hot piping mess, but he’d never have to be one alone.

And Peter. The kid was glued to his side whether he wanted him to be or not. Peter never saw the bad in him. Even with his entire history laid out in newspapers, recorded in videos, spread across the tabloids — Peter shrugged it off as though it didn’t bother him.

The kid had so much life in him. Even on his worst days, the kid smiled with more love than Tony could ever give back. For the longest time he believed he was mentoring the kid to be like him — but he soon realized that having Peter in his life was making him the better man, not the other way around. He made every beat of his heart worth it.

Peter made him want to be a better person. To not let his baggage and trauma control his life. To spend the evening in bed with Pepper rather than in his workshop — because life was short and he didn’t know how long he had with her. To make more time with Rhodey, because they had been friends for decades and the man deserved better than what company he had been providing.

To forgive Steve, because mistakes shouldn’t always define the man.

“When you can do the things I can…but you don’t, and then the bad things happen, they happen because of you.”

For a moment, Tony stopped breathing. He didn’t realize it, but the air halted in his chest, stagnant with the thoughts that passed by in his mind. His forehead creased as he focused so intently, and so deeply, on the memories that made his arms quiver and his eyes twitch.

But he could see it — he could see a young Peter; sitting on his bed in his Queens apartment, the kid all but starstruck at the concept of talking with Tony Stark. He could see him ripping off his Spider-Man mask, giddy and excited at his first team-up with Iron Man. And for one short moment, he could feel him, his own arm wrapped around the lanky but built teenager as they walked away from the island together.

For a moment, he felt at peace.

Stephen was the one to come out of his trance with a gasp, a thud on the ground that startled Tony back to the present. From the way his clothes shook, Tony could only assume something magical had happened.

And he missed it.

Well, damn.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 15: Parker Luck

Something inside Steve finally broke. When Tony briskly walked past him, attempting to reach the rest of the team, he grabbed onto his bicep tightly. Stalling him from moving any further.

“You good?” Steve asked, his voice almost too low to hear.

Tony looked over at him, stone-cold sober with exhaustion that sank deep in his bones.

“I will be once we get this over with,” he answered.

Steve didn’t let go of his grip. “You know we have your back on this, Tony. Right?”

Tony shook him off, roughly at that, with his brows furrowed tight.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Steve had a million different thoughts raging in his head — things he wanted to say yesterday, the day before that, and the day before it all. It burned a hole deep inside of him, screaming to get out.

They didn’t have time for it, though. The others stood across the room waiting for them both; waiting to leave any second now. With resignation, Steve settled on the most straightforward answer he could muster up.

“It means we’re going to find him.” Steve tilted his chin low, his eyes locking onto Tony’s. “And we’re all going to come back, together.”

What he didn't say out loud was heard, loud and clear in the emphasis of his words. There wouldn't be sacrifices made. This wasn't New York — they weren't doing that again.

Tony paused, his tongue running across his teeth before he popped his lips together, turning to face Steve head-on with a strong fury emitting from the pores of his skin.

“Let’s get one thing straight, Rogers," he started, each word heavier than the last. "Whatever we’re about to walk into, the end result is bringing Peter home. If for one second, there needs to be a decision made between the kid, or me, or anyone else, you best believe the kid comes first. Every time,” his tone was deep and rumbled like gravel. “Is that clear?”

There was a quiet moment between them. One only filled with the suffocating tension from Tony’s imposition.

Steve honestly didn’t know how to respond. Not at first. Not on instinct.

“That won’t need to happen,” he finally said, his voice too reserved for his own liking.

“Look me in the eye,” Tony demanded, the lines on his face tight. “He comes first. Is that clear?”

Steve opened his mouth to speak.

Nothing came out.

The silence only grew thicker, and the next inhale that lifted Steve's chest was a struggle. He stared at Tony, unable to break the hold the man had on his eyes. There was something about him that seemed different in that moment. Something as foreign as the magic he still couldn't wrap his head around.

It was the self-sacrificing, almost parental drive and commitment that he felt coming from Tony. It was the intrusive realization he'd been denying since the night the chameleon helmet had been stolen, finally ringing true to his ears.

Tony had changed. He'd come to accept that long ago — it wasn't as if they were both the same people they knew five years ago. But Tony's change was abrupt, not something he expected, not something he'd ever even considered. It was obvious the day he showed Peter off to the team.

Staring at him now, the flood of emotions pouring off from him — doubt, fear, panic, an unhindered compulsion to hurt those who had hurt his family — Steve came to realize those changes not only made him a different person...but a better one.

A handful of years ago, they once stood in a similar position. Steve insisting that Tony was nothing without his suit, that he knew men without such fancy armor worth ten of him. Tony stood next to him now, all but stripped of his technology, and eager to run head first into a battle they were unsure of. Ready to sacrifice himself for someone he felt was better than them all.

Steve decided, then and there, that he wouldn’t let that dedication go to waste.

“If it comes to that,” Steve preempted, “then yes.”

Identity Theft│ Chapter 16: Smoke and Mirrors

With each hit, Tony expected the next, anticipated them, and in the moments after they landed, he let his body relax. A blow smashed into his temple, rattling Tony’s head within his breaking helmet. He tried to escape, to wiggle out from under the man, his legs writhing desperately to get a grip on the floor.

Howard leaned back, panting breathlessly. “You resent your father for how he raised you, yet you couldn’t even protect a young boy from dangers you put him in. His death is on you, Stark.”

Tony took the moment and ran with it. With a grunt, he kneed the man between his legs, a painful cry showcasing his achievement. Tony gave one hefty smack across the side of his head and Dmitri toppled over, his appearance flickering on and off. He phased between multiple different people as the light-show filled the otherwise empty hallway.

Tony jumped up and dashed forward. He launched himself on top of Dmitri, planting him face-first onto the floor. His body-weight pinned him to the ground, his knees digging into his back to keep him still.

“You may be good at fighting, but you’re a damn horrible liar.” Tony smacked his head against the ground, holding it there. “Now I really don’t like asking things twice. Where. Is. He!?”

The helmet was shutting down. Tony could tell it had already been exposed to too much damage, the flickering lights bouncing off the billion nanites that ceased to function.

Dmitri’s eyes slid up to look at him.

“I’ll tell you when you’re dead,” he sneered.

WHAM!

A stern blow to his head, one after the other. Tony didn’t let up, using strength only emotion could fuel, chips of his metal suit flying from his knuckles. He beat the man relentlessly, beat him even as he damaged his own suit — his own form of protection — he didn’t let up.

WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!WHAM!

“Dead so you can take my money, right!?” Tony threw his arm back, punching again. “You did all this so you could take my money, you took my kid for my money — you fucking psychopath!”

He didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. A blaze of rage shredded his restraint, a ballistic force unleashed and out of his control. It seemed like an hour, it seemed like a lifetime that he kept hitting and hitting and hitting and —

His knuckles were bleeding. The nanites spread around him like glitter, broken pieces of magnets shredded and discarded. Only when he physically lost his strength, his body tapping him out, did Tony stop.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 17: Grace Under Pressure

When the smeared blood took a curve into an open room, Tony half expected to be led down another hallway. He instead came to a startling halt at the entrance. To his surprise, the room was a dead end. It was just that — a room.

What caught his attention was the reflection of Captain America’s shield, the red and blue standing out from the dreary darkness around them. It was directed right at him, attached to Steve’s back, telling him that the man was facing forward. Tony squinted, realizing that Steve’s attention was clearly focused on something — or someone — important.

He stood frozen in the doorway, listening intently to the sounds from within. The voice was so quiet he almost didn’t catch it.

Almost.

“Stay with me, soldier,” Steve spoke softly, his tone more delicate than Tony had ever heard it before. “Easy now, I got you, son.”

Tony furrowed his brows. It was the only part of him that he could feel move, his nerves paralyzing the rest of his muscles. But he knew couldn’t have stood there long; Steve’s instincts kicked in quickly, his head turning over his shoulder when his presence was noticed.

He never said anything. It was probably for the best, Tony wasn’t sure if he would have heard him to begin with. Not over the pounding of his heartbeat, the blood rushing through his ears. Steve moved, just ever so slightly that both their flashlights gave sight to —

“Peter.” Tony’s breath lodged in his chest.

The kid was slumped forward, only held upright by the metal straps around his arms — Tony balked, they had him bolted against the wall. He was too far away to see if Peter’s eyes were open or not. It was too dark to see if he was even breathing, the intrusive thought making his stomach churn.

But he was there. No mind tricks, no sick psycho taking on his identity, it was him — his Peter.

His kid.

Tony was already across the room before he realized he was moving. Vaguely, he heard Steve say something, the intensity in his tone telling him he should listen. He couldn’t. His focus didn’t steer away, his eyes locked ahead, soaking in the sight like he hadn’t seen Peter in two years, not the two days it had been.

His knees hit the floor with a resounding smack.

“Hey, hey…” Tony breathed out. A sense of endearment he didn’t know was possible laced his tone. He suddenly understood why Cap had sounded the way that he did.

With what he saw in front of him, it almost felt natural to speak in such a way. He didn’t fight it, he didn’t push it away, and he’d deal with that startling thought at a later time.

The kid looked so...fragile. It was impossible not to speak with such delicacy, as if their voices could shatter him. His young age only intensified the sight of his broken frame.

Peter didn’t flinch, not at his words or Steve’s.

Unsure if he should touch him, Tony’s hands hovered over his body.

“I got you. I gotcha,” he chuckled, the laugh almost sounding hysterical. “We got you.”

Identity Theft│ Chapter 19: When the Bad Things Happen

Tony could have sworn his heart would burst out of his throat. His fragile, weak, shrapnel damaged heart.

Goddamn this kid.

He wasn’t sure how much time he had wasted standing uselessly in the doorway, unsure of where to go and if he should even walk inside. The room was packed and clustered with machinery, bustling with working staff and along the way, four-hundred-some square feet shrunk dramatically in the chaos.

Peter seemed to be center of it all, laying flat on his back, motionless in the hospital bed up against the far left wall.

It wasn’t until a nurse kindly walked him in that he finally moved. He barely muttered thanks, too busy staring at where Peter laid, a vortex of spiraling emotions sweeping him away.

Relief, horror, guilt, shame, fear, anxiety — and somehow none of it mattered. Once he was there, once he got close to Peter, he didn’t want to be a breath away. Not ever again.

He was alive. The kid was alive, and he didn’t even care that he needed to rely on the beeping machinery to tell him that. The blazing flames of a burning warehouse had been drowned out by the ocean’s salty waters and washed them ashore — damaged, beaten but alive.

He’d cling to that as long as he could.

Tony shifted weight on his feet and grimaced. Tubes, catheters, wires — Peter was surrounded by a warehouse of medical supplies. A very baggy gown barely covered him, hanging loosely from his shoulders, more like a blanket than an act of modesty. A thin sheet covered his waist but left his one leg exposed, something Tony adamantly refused to look at because he simply did not have that kind of strength right now. The glimmer of a metal rod was enough to make his stomach churn. His face wasn’t faring much better, a tube snaking down his throat and up his nose, IV’s in his arms and even his chest.

Yet nothing bothered him nearly as much as the stillness.

Peter was always moving, always hyperactive and bouncing with an energy he couldn’t contain. Once Tony had watched the kid doze off in his workshop, and even then he was twitching restlessly. He was never sure if it was his age, the spider-bite or both combined. Whatever it was, it was Peter. Bouncing, jumping, jittery and twitching — he never sat still.

Seeing him so still, so motionless — Tony hated it. Peter looked as if he were only a shell of himself, no color to his face and no warmth to his body. Tony swallowed convulsively against the rising bile in his throat. This was too much.

He had thought that his panic developed more into a slow burn, a languid torture that he could handle. He was wrong.

Tony’s hand dropped from the bed’s plastic railing, resting uneasily on the firm mattress beneath him. He hadn’t meant for his hand to fall on Peter’s, his fingers brushing up against the IVs and wires that protruded from underneath the sheets. He also didn’t move it away.

“You’re good, kid,” Tony muttered quietly.

It wasn’t naive to say as much. Healing factor or not, the kid had the strength of a thousand warriors, strong-willed beyond his expectations. If Peter could have that kind of resolve, so could he. If that meant doing everything in his power to get him better, that was what Tony would do.

“You’re stronger than all of us put together.”

The beeping of machines filled the air, some constant and some further apart. It practically drowned out his voice, already a whisper under his breath. Protectiveness rumbled in his chest and his sight locked onto Peter, unable to look away, unable to want to look away.

His shoulders were stiff and his neck tense, and he never paid mind to his fingers slipping underneath Peter’s palm, lightly gripping his hand in a loose hold. He never paid attention as his thumb grazed back and forth over Peter’s knuckles, distantly remembering the comfort it would bring him when his mother did the same thing.

“You’re good.”

Tony didn’t notice that Helen let him stay an extra eight minutes.

He did notice that Peter’s fingers twitched under his touch.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 20: Family Ties

He didn’t have anything to say in return. While May had returned her focus on Peter, she could still see as Tony closed his eyes, letting them rest that way. One may think he had fallen asleep, but she knew better.

She knew he was hiding.

It was something she noticed early on with Tony. It was an attempt to keep her from seeing the flurry of emotion that always passed through him, a rush of humanity almost always hid behind some fancy pair of sunglasses he insisted on wearing, the gatekeeper to his true self. He never showed his emotions by talking, instead it was his actions. Always do, never say.

He stayed quiet, occupied with his own thoughts, but his eyes would speak more than his mouth ever could. His actions always showed his concern; he would pace the floors, repeatedly check Peter’s medical charts, go as far as to make sure the hospital bills were covered, and was always persistent on getting updates from the doctors.

But this was the longest they had spoken since she arrived at the compound, going on three days. Even then, the conversation was mostly one-sided on her part. It was like a self-defense move, as if not talking would keep him in place — in check, from getting any closer to her and Peter.

May held back a laugh. The only problem with that was Tony had gotten himself knee-deep into that pool already.

Maybe he didn’t realize that yet.

Maybe he had trouble accepting it.

She caressed Peter’s hand. For a while, the quietness returned. Never peaceful, just a lull from their voices.

“You know, my husband used to have this look in his eyes whenever he was with Peter,” May said, the words heavy on her tongue. “It was unique, something I had never seen in him or...or anyone else before. It was like..I don't know, it’s hard to explain. It was like no matter what, Ben wanted to be there. For all the good parts, for all the bad parts. He wanted to teach him everything he knew and hope he could guide Peter from making the same mistakes he had made before. It was like...he knew he wasn’t Peter’s dad and he never wanted to try and replace Richard, but at the same time...he still wanted to be a father-figure for him. He didn’t want Peter to go without that in his life.”

May let out a heavy breath, and with it she turned to look at Tony. “I see a lot of that in you.”

Tony averted his gaze.

May didn’t need to see him to know how he felt.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 21: Sins of the Father

The air is crisp and cool. Refreshing. Tony takes in a deep breath of it, his shoulders sagging with relaxation.

The smell of salt water is strong, drafts of wind hitting his face with no sign of letting up. It’s his favorite aspect of the Malibu mansion. The evenings provide solitude, moments where only whispering waves of the ocean could be heard, water crashing and beating unforgivably against the mountain rocks.

His home. Looking out from his bedroom windows, he releases a lungful of air, and his eyelids close shut, giving way to a small smile on his face. Nothing could ever take away the tranquility of his home.

“Mr’...Stark...I...I don’t...”

His eyes snap open.

Peter lays heavy in his arms, beaten and broken. Bleeding. The blood is everywhere, coating his hands, staining his skin. He grips Peter’s body tighter, pulling him closer, hugging him with nauseating despair.

Over the sound of ocean waves, he hears the wheezing, the struggle — a crackly, heartbreaking whine.

“I don’t feel so good.” Peter’s voice is barely a whimper, drifting away in the wind. An exhale of air escapes the boy’s chest and Tony waits for a returning breath.

It never comes.

The smell of the open sea no longer brings him peace. The horror swells inside of him, eats away at his bones, the sulfur and ocean-life now nothing but a repulsive taste in his mouth.

CRASH!

Tony shields the motionless body with his own, bracing himself for the impact. Windows break around him, the glass mansion shattering with the intensity of the wind. He waits to be swept away, to feel the never-ending tide hit his body like knives, freezing and paralyzing. He waits for the outpour of the ocean that never comes.

“Tony, Tony, Tony…”

His eyes locked intently on the man kneeling in front of him. He’s no longer kneeling, he’s sitting. He’s paralyzed. He can’t move, crippled to the sofa. His heart withers away with fear, decaying from the ruins of panic that steal his breath.

Obadiah shakes his head, scoffing. “Look at you.”

The man’s voice is gruff, breathy against his skin. Too close, too close for comfort, his nerves screaming danger. The weather from outside the mansion roars, winds howling, lightning blazing and thunder rolling. He’s helpless to its wrath, paralyzed in place.

“It’s a shame, you know.” Obadiah moves closer, leaving little space between the two of them. His hand lays against Tony’s chest.“I spent thirty years of my life holding you up, at your side, guiding you through the tundra of a dog eat dog world that you would never have survived without me.”

The lights from above shine brightly onto his bald head; successions of flashing lightning obscure his face. Tony’s mind hollers to get up, to run, run-danger-run-run—

Obadiah squeezes his face, hard. His other hand claws at Tony’s chest, fingers digging for a hole that no longer exists. Tony shudders at those familiar, sadistic blue eyes staring him down, the need to scream burgeoning.

“Thirty years, Tony. You barely gave that boy one, and look at what it did to him.”

His face is held tightly in Obadiah’s grasp, cheeks aching at the pressure. His eyes wander freely. They lock on the corner of the room, the shadow of a mangled body barely seen. The lightning illuminates red and blue, the suit — his creation, Peter’s livelihood — laying in a crumbled mess.

“You finally outdid yourself,” Obadiah belittles. “Did you really think that you could right your wrongs...just like that? Take a child under your wing and sing the praises of unearned, undeserved redemption? He was better off without you, Tony. Your influence is only poison, you containment and kill everything you touch. That’s why we worked better in weapons manufacturing. That’s why you’re a —”

“You’re a failure.”

His eyes look back.

Stane is gone.

His limbs move freely, no longer held down by his former business partner, someone who he once considered to be a mentor. The storm comes to a sudden stop, leaving only darkness in its wake.

And Howard Stark.

They stare at each other.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 22: Sweet Sixteen

Tony leaned forward against the wet metal railings, feeling the dampness sink into his wrinkled AC/DC t-shirt.

“It is what it is. He’ll have to deal.”

Pepper huffed a sigh. “Tony, you’re being—”

“He almost died!” Tony shot up stiff as a board, facing her head on and he forced himself to dry swallow in an attempt to rid himself of the painful lump forming in his throat. “He almost died, Pep. I held him in my arms as he...”

A shiver rippled through his core and Tony had to look away, trying to focus on anything but the echoes of haunting memories that crudely invaded his mind. The smell of musty grass, the humidity in the air, the drizzle of rain — anything but the pleas, the cries and the screams.

Tony sniffed, swiping his thumb over his nose. “People like Dmitri won’t be able to hurt him if I stay out of his life. If it means I need to cut all ties to keep him safe, you can be damn well sure that’s what I plan on doing.”

Bringing the thermos to his mouth, he let the coffee scorch his throat as he drank gulp after gulp, desperate to settle his nerves. He was barely getting by telling himself things would get easier, better, that he’d go back to how things were before and then it wouldn’t be so difficult anymore.

Right now, it was the only thought that kept him together, like glue to a broken vase. If he couldn’t protect the kid at arms reach, it’d have to be done at a mile’s distance. Right now, he just wanted Peter to be safe.

That apparently couldn’t happen as long as he was around.

They’d deal with it. Eventually.

“You know,” Pepper visibly shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “You once told me that you wanted your legacy to be about more than just weapons and technology.”

Tony didn’t break his stare, eyes locked straight ahead. “Your point?”

Pepper stared at him, her eyebrow high in the air. It took a moment for things to click, to finally register what she was implying. The moment it hit him, Tony spun on his heels with comically large, wide eyes.

“Him?” His voice squeaked at the absurdity of the implication. “Pepper, he’s —”

She immediately held a hand in the air. “Wait a minute, hold on—”

“He’s got an aunt, he’s got his own life, he —”

“Hold on, you are jumping way ahead of things.” Pepper sighed. “Like you usually do.”

“Hey!” He pointed a finger her way. “I take offense to that.”

Pepper rolled her eyes. “Tony. Hear me out.”

“I always hear you out,” he insisted.

She cocked her head to the side. “Do you now?”

“I do.” Tony puffed out his chest and straightened his posture. “You don’t give me enough credit.”

Pepper stared him straight on. “So you’re not nervously rambling like a buffoon —”

“Not at all.”

“Because I brought up the slightest possibility of Peter taking on a bigger role in your life —”

Tony shook his head. “No clue what you’re talking about.”

“Similar to that of...I don’t know, a son?”

“He’s not my son,” Tony finally snapped, his voice dangerously low. “Okay? He’s not. He’s just some kid, some brat who got in way over his head and is, quite frankly, lucky that I came along to keep an eye on his scrawny pubescent ass.”

Pepper squinted suspiciously at him. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Really?” she repeated.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 23: Bridge Over Troubled Water

If the injection of medicine did indeed bother him, Peter didn’t let it show. The entire time Bruce emptied the contents of the syringe through his IV, Peter stayed staring straight ahead, occasionally blinking and smacking his chapped lips.

“... whoa ...”

The effects were immediate, more-so than any other drug they had given the kid.

“Taste...funny,” Peter managed to mumble, his words thick and slurred. “Like...coconut.”

Every muscle in his body visibly loosened, one by one until he started drifting forward, to the point where Tony had to tighten his grip and keep him steady. Both him and Bruce gently pushed him back against the pillows of the bed, comfortably arranging his limbs for him.

And as Peter sagged into the comfort of the mattress, all tension drained from his muscles, Tony sagged in relief with him. The adrenaline surge left his body all at once.

He lifted a brow, waiting expectantly. “Feeling better?”

Peter wearily nodded, his lashes fluttering with little attempt to keep his eyes open. Each movement of his became slower until eventually, he found himself leaning to the side, his shoulder resting heavily against Tony’s chest.

“There ya go, that’s it.” Helplessly, Tony found the corners of his mouth curling upward, and without a second thought he tangled his fingers into Peter’s sweat-dampened hair. The kid’s head lolled into his chest like a rag-doll, and it was only then Tony realized this was the closest he had been to Peter since…

It became quiet. The few nurses still in the room preoccupied themselves with their assigned tasks and the machinery surrounding them drastically quieted down, no longer the angry beasts they once were.

At that moment, everything seemed to melt away, as if the sounds and sights surrounding him ceased to exist. Words darted away from him, and as everyone else stopped talking, he found it unnecessary to converse himself. He focused on the gentle rise and fall of Peter’s chest, the soft breathing that escaped from his mouth, the peace that encompassed his face.

‘He’s okay.’ Fingers carded through Peter’s hair, lightly massaging his scalp without even realizing it. His heart fluttered in a soft beat as the kid fell lax. It was, without any doubt, the most calm he had seen from the kid in days.

It was easily the best thing he had seen in weeks.

His wandering fingers untangled from the soft, brown curls down to Peter’s cheek, the back of his hand stroking his relaxed facial features. With it, he brushed away the drying tears that smeared across his skin.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 25: Grounds for Improvement

It happened quickly; one cry tearing off into two, choking off into more. Though the doors to the hospital room were shut by automatic nature, the sounds easily leaked out into the hallway. Managing to slip through glass and drywall and drifting away from the seclusion of just the two of them.

Tony had still been looking at his phone’s text messages when he heard it.

By knee-jerk reaction he began to walk away; his head down low, dodging the corners only by habit.

This wasn’t a moment for him to bear witness to. It felt private. Intensely private.

Tony wasn’t oblivious; he could see the anxiety riddling Peter, the distant look in his eyes and the small muscle in his chin working — quivering. The tension had been palpable, and after all the kid had gone through, he certainly deserved a break-down or two. Or six.

It was no surprise he waited for the comfort of his aunt until he had one.

An ember of jealousy ignited in Tony's chest at the odd desire to have been there instead. It wasn’t his place or his time. He said it once before and he’d say it again — they weren’t there yet.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 25: Grounds for Improvement

Stark Expo 2010.

That had to make the kid, what? Tony did the math, coming to the age of eight.

The little Peter he stared at was eight years old. Half the kid's lifetime ago.

Tony ran his finger along the photograph, the gloss lost due to age and the edges bent with the bottom corner torn.

Looking at it, and something more tugged at his memory.

He laid the photos out, letting the piece of notebook paper sit to the side. The photos seemed to be kept together as a set, all taken of this one family trip. The young kid wearing cheap Iron Man merch, hoodie and fingerless gloves with the toy helmet too big for his head — Tony realized it was Peter.

He picked up the photo. ‘Wow, kid was scrawny back then.’

Tony pursed his lips, humming. The thought ate away at him, the memory on the tip of his tongue. There was more to this, there had to be. It wasn’t that the Parker’s had gone to a Stark Expo — though he, of course, wished it hadn’t been that Stark Expo.

So much had happened that year with nearly dying, nearly losing both Pepper and Rhodey in his life, dealing with SHIELD using Natasha to spy on him — nearly dying, that served to be mentioned twice. For a fleeting moment, he almost gave up — sure that he wouldn’t be able to recall such a tiny detail in the mass of events that had occurred.

Tony leaned back in his chair, defeated, and sighing to let the universe know as much.

God, what a shitshow of a night. His head fell back and he stared up at the ceiling, recalling the disastrous monstrosity that was Stark Expo 2010. Those damn Hammer drones sent out to target Iron Man; they were lucky no one else managed to get seriously hurt in that cluster fu —

“Nice work, kid.”

Tony shot forward in the chair.

The photograph of Peter laid on-top of the scattered prints, with Iron Man helmet barely fitting his small head.

“Huh,” he found himself saying aloud, staring at the picture with unblinking eyes.

It was an minuscule moment in time, surely stored away only because his problems nearly got a child killed. Tony knew that he’d never put the two-and-two together had it not been for those photos, telling him a story he hadn’t realized he needed to hear.

The scrap piece of notebook paper called out to him. Tony snatched it a bit too hastily, suddenly needing to know what it said.

It was folded three times in and Tony had to shake it flat once opened. His eyes scanned the cursive handwriting, all the while ignoring the way his heart beat heavily in his chest.

Tony,

One way or another, you’ve always been in his life. The only difference now is you have a chance to make that count.

I trust you’ll do the right thing.

May Parker.

His eyes darted from the note to the stack of photos behind it. Tony slowly relaxed in his chair, never tearing his eyes from either of the two.

Recalling that memory was like watching another life rip open before him at the seams, a time where he only lived to feed his ego and feed it well. He realized, back then, that he was allowing his pride to dominate; coddling it as a mechanism of self-protection. It was nothing more than allowing weakness to masquerade as strength.

The photo surprised him, shaking loose latent feelings he hadn’t realized were even there. A paternal aspiration everyone had made clear to him but he had so adamantly denied.

Here Tony was, trying to determine how to best structure the boundary of his relationship with Peter and meanwhile, it had already been created for him.

'A fierce commitment.' Tony could feel his lips pursing to the side. There wouldn't be any running away, there wouldn't be any digging his head into the sand — not when a line had already been scratched out in that sand, reclaimed by the shifting tides of the events they'd suffered through.

The choice was already made for him, years ago. He just never knew it.

‘Fine,’ Tony thought, smacking his lips and folding his arms over his chest. ‘Time to regroup, then.’

He could still negative this. He could still make this work.

Besides, back in the base, he would have done anything for a second chance — a breath of opportunity to start again. To give Peter everything he needed, the whole world, the life he deserved.

The photos provided a new outlook, a window where he had originally thought there was a wall. Tony saw that he had the power to be the architect to his own life, to build reality to the desires he always wanted.

He had that now.

What was he to do with it?

Tony cracked a smile.

Whatever it was, whatever it required, he was ready for what came next.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 26: Building Blocks

Even as he went on to explain the finer details of their rescue mission, the room lacked any tension. It helped greatly that Peter wasn’t immune to the pure star-struck wonderment at hearing Tony’s stories, listening intently to how they had increased the tensile strength on his web fluid, how a magical wizard got them in and out of the place, and most of all —

“You finished the nano-suit!?” he exclaimed, nearly jumping out of bed with excitement. “Can I see it!?”

“Sorry, bud.” Tony gave a small shake of his head, his finger lazily pointing down to Peter’s leg. “It’s on you.”

Peter frowned, looking down at his leg before back up at Tony. “What?”

“What was left of it — used it for that sock you’re wearing,” Tony explained. “It’s a nanite cast, designed to promote bone healing. I’m sure Bruce will be thrilled to show you the x-rays of how mangled your leg was. He said it was in eight pieces or something, shattered like a stale piece of peanut brittle.”

Peter didn’t seem to be paying attention. As Tony rambled on, he removed the blanket that covered his leg to better stare at the thick black and silver device that he wore around his calf. It was every sense of the word futuristic, conforming around his leg from the knee down, fitting snugly like his suit. If he stared at it long enough, he could see lights run up the length of the sleeve every so often.

“No way,” Peter lamented, looking over at Tony sadly. “But you put so much work into that!”

Despite Peter’s protest and remorse for the forsaken project, Tony couldn’t muster up a will to care.

“Well, you’re more important,” he answered honestly. “Besides, I can make another suit. I can’t make another Peter Parker.”

Tony hadn’t meant to create a moment between them, the words having slipped out before he realized what he was saying. Peter stared at him, at first confused and slightly startled, before he slowly let himself relax and smile.

It was a look so warm, Tony was sure it could melt even the coldest of hearts. While he couldn’t take the words back, he quickly realized that he didn’t even want to. He tried to remember the photos he had sitting in his workshop, to remember that as uncomfortable as the emotion felt, that he wanted this.

And besides, Peter didn’t seem to be fighting it. Kid was glowing brighter than the sun.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 27: Growing Pains

Despite his encouragement, Peter remained dejected. “You were right, though. The moment I mess up and it’s ‘ Spider-Man: Thwarted by local street magician.’ So stupid.”

“Yeah, well...” Tony popped his lips, shrugging. “What do they know?”

Peter scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“No, seriously, what do they know?” Tony asked again, piquing Peter’s interest. He finally looked up from his hands, frowning, completely puzzled. Tony met his gaze head-on. “Tomorrow’s issue isn’t going to be about Spider-Man taking down a psychopathic Russian spy in an underwater facility, all with two broken wrists, hypothermia, a concussion—”

Peter blushed with embarrassment. “Okay, I—I get it—”

“A shattered leg, a gaping hole in his stomach and back,” Tony went on, ignoring his protest. “And you still managed to knock that Bond wannabe flat on his ass. Don’t let some outdated, old fart of a journalist who’s a couple years away from retiring and starting a podcast get under your skin.”

Peter gave a soft, wobbly laugh that brought on the inkling of a smile. With it, the tension seemed to thin just enough that Tony felt comfortable leaning forward, resting a firm open palm on Peter’s shoulder.

“For every ten good things Iron Man does, there has to be fifty that the press doesn’t talk about. They will always pick and chose what the public wants to hear. That doesn’t discredit your doing, kiddo. You know in your heart what you’re doing is right.” Tony’s voice dropped a little, quieter but no less sincere. “And if I’ve been hard on you lately about that, well...I really have no excuse. I just want you to be safe.”

Peter nodded, letting his smile widen a tad bit more. The feel of Tony’s thumb stroking over the curve of his shoulder was grounding, comfortable. It reminded him a lot of the same feeling he’d get when he wore his suit — protection, safety.

“Thanks, Mr. Stark.”

Tony patted his shoulder before leaning to the side in his chair, grabbing his coffee cup from next to him.

“Always thanking me, and I never know what for.”

Peter gave an easy smile and shrugged, a swell of warmth and gratitude replacing the butterflies of anxiety in his chest.

“For being here.”

Tony looked up from his coffee cup and gave him a wink, all charm, no bite. Any worry he had about his off-handed comment from before faded away with it, and Peter grinned as he picked his phone back up, though he was too distracted to really use it.

He stared down at the device, flipping it around, caught up in his own thoughts. He almost felt silly for having panicked earlier over what he’d say. It was just that he and Mr. Stark always had an odd relationship, never really defined, always bouncing between ‘he helps me do my superhero-ing and keeps me in line’ to ‘he’s like my mentor and teaches me all these cool things’.

But that had changed lately, since Homecoming, since he broke-in-but-not-really-broke-in to the Avengers facility. He wasn’t exactly sure what this was now, what they had become. He didn’t care either way. He liked it.

Uncle Ben would always tell him to try and find the positives out of any situation he was faced with.

Peter smiled — he was pretty sure he just found one.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 29: Breaking the Cycle of Shame

“I’m going to answer your question in the simplest terms possible and I ask that in return you keep the rising level of emotions to barely above average, capisce?” Tony crossed his arms and tilted his chin low, tired eyes meeting Peter’s.

Peter nodded a little too fast, rapt with eagerness.

Tony hesitated, taking a moment to reel himself back in. He was dangerously close to backing out, coming up with some pathetic excuse that he was sure Peter would buy in a heartbeat. But it wouldn’t do him any good, he had to remind himself of that.

This whole thing he felt going on — the ever-incessant ‘more than mentorship’ deal everyone called him out on — it was a two-way street. If he wanted to be better than Howard, he needed to put himself out there. He needed to be better than his own father if he had a shot at this.

It wouldn’t come easily. But then again, nothing good ever did.

It was that realization that pushed Tony forward, breaking through the walls he had built for himself, if only a smidgen.

“Growing up, my dad didn’t give me a lot of support. He was cold. He was calculating. Never told me he loved me, never even told me he liked me.” Tony took a deep breath in, his chest visibly rising. “What I’m trying to say here, kid, is that I don’t have the best first-hand experience with this sort of- stuff. Christ, the world’s lucky Pepper doesn’t even want children, can you imagine how badly I’d screw up a child?”

Peter smiled so softly, with such a gentle glow that Tony almost felt bad for dumping a load of pessimism on him.

“I think you’d make a great dad, Mr. Stark,” he said, the happy lift in his tone enough to break through even the iciest of hearts.

Tony smiled in a way he wasn’t initially sure he had been capable of doing. The kid was too pure for his own good, He couldn’t help the burning blaspheme at thanking whatever higher being was out there protecting that innocence.

Even with weeks building a gap between believing the kid was dead and holding him alive in his arms, Tony’s gratitude hadn’t diminished. He still felt the same, immense indebtedness that Peter was getting a second chance at things. That they were getting a second chance at things.

All and all, he still felt like it was a miracle to be here, in the now, with Peter by his side. He hoped to never lose that feeling.

“You’re a great kid, Pete. And not just because you’ve decided to run around New York a skin-tight suit putting yourself in harm’s way every chance you can get.” Tony cleared his throat, working to rid the raw emotion that laced his words. “So seeing as I’m not good with the whole touchy-feely sort of dialogue happening here, I’m going to say this once and you better listen good because I can’t promise I’ll ever repeat it. You’re...well, I’ll just say it. You’re like a son to me. I don’t ever want to entertain the idea of losing you again, not because it’ll be heavy on my conscience, but because you have a lot to offer this world and in the grand scheme of things, you’ve barely begun.”

Peter stared at Tony for a long time, at a loss for what to say. The understanding seemed to crash into him in waves, each staggering in a series of what had been the past year and a half. Germany, Toomes, Homecoming night, frequent internship visits, the Chameleon helmet, the burning building, the undersea base, Dmitri...each event began to stack on top of the other, building into something completely new.

He had always felt like Mr. Stark had been the anchor to his otherwise turbulent super-hero life. He had just never expected that side of him to transition into other aspects. Personal aspects.

And just like that, Peter’s throat began to tighten once he realized how much that truly meant to him.

“I...I don’t know what to...”

“Don’t. C’mon, learn to feel the room, you’ll ruin the moment.” Tony waved his hand, motioning for him to come closer. “Just bring it in before I regret this.”

Peter didn’t have much say in the interaction. Tony had already wrapped his arm around his shoulder, pulling him in tightly, so close that Peter could rest his chin against the crook of the man’s neck.

His embrace was warm, albeit surprising. Peter’s eyes widened enough that he worried they might pop right out of his sockets. And though he relished at the contact, he did little other than lay a hand gently against Tony’s back to reciprocate. Part of him couldn’t tell if this was real or not. In his defense, the last time he assumed they were hugging, Mr. Stark was just trying to open the door for him.

When the touch wasn’t grounding enough for him, the scent was. It was hard not to notice the smell of his cologne, different from the usual musky, smokey scents he found most older men wore. Mr. Stark smelt light, fresh, reminding him a lot of the familiar smell he often encountered while recovering in the infirmary.

It made him feel safe. It occurred to him a beat later why that was.

Just when his muscles began to loosen, allowing him to fully enjoy the moment —

“Mr. Stark, this isn’t…this isn’t a hug, is it?” he joked, resisting a smirk. “I thought we weren’t there yet?”

The words were delivered with such intense sincerity that it took Tony a few seconds to even register them. When he did, he pulled away abruptly, his face stern even once being greeted with Peter’s million dollar smile.

“See what you just did there? That was ruining it. Never do that again.” Tony waved him an open palm. “Proud of yourself?”

Peter laughed.

Tony warmed up to a smile.

Identity Theft│ Chapter 29: Breaking the Cycle of Shame

“Wait! Hold up, hold on!” Peter swivels around, running back towards them both, gripping his cue-cards tightly. “I forgot something!”

Tony gaped, gesturing ahead. “Peter, they’re about to call your name, you need to — ompfh!”

The weight of a muscular sixteen-year-old teenager smacks into him, his breath nearly knocked out of his chest before he can finish. With eyes comically wide, Tony stumbles back, Peter’s arms wrapping tightly around his waist.

“Love ya, dad.” A huge grin spreads across Peter’s face, his head tucked deep in the crook of Tony’s neck.

“Love you too, son.” Tony returned the gesture with a squeeze that may have been twice as enthusiastic as Peter’s. He only pulls away once the announcer calls Peter by name, going to pat him on the back before ushering him away.

Peter nods quickly, giving Pepper a toothy smile before turning his back on them both.

The red velvet curtains begins to draw upwards, inching towards the high ceilings with a whir that could barely be heard over the announcer’s voice booming from the surround sound. As soon as he stopped speaking, the crowd began to clap, a harsh echo of their greeting bouncing off the walls of the large concert hall.

With his shoulders pulled back tight and his hands nervously rubbing together, Peter spares Tony one more look, his grin brighter than the lights that began to flood in from the auditorium stage. His grin spoke it all— the audience could be a million strong and Peter would only ever care about one person’s opinion, only ever care about his number one fan.

Tony could feel his heart soar out of his chest from that look, overflowing with pride.

The stage lights seep in as the curtains pull up, casting an overwhelming bright halo where Peter stood. It eclipses around him, highlights him as he begins to walk on stage until eventually, Tony can see nothing but white.

He opened his eyes to the same.

“Tony?” Pepper’s voice seemed distant, but her hand was firm on his shoulder, grounding him to reality. “Tony, are you okay?”

Tony blinked, his every thought in high definition, his mind seemingly caught between then and now. The crisp white colors to his bed-sheets filled his vision, his eyes slowly coming into focus until eventually he could see even the finer crinkles from his own pillowcase.

The overhead lights to their bedroom were bright from above, harsh in comparison to the gently rising orange sun coming from the room’s window. Pepper’s warm body was settled next to his, a weight that dipped the mattress low.

“Hey...” she softly said, leaning further into his vision. “Another nightmare?”

Tony shook his head, his mouth dry, slacked open. His heart beat fast in his chest despite never having been jolted awake, never having woken up with a scream or a shout.

He slowly managed to sit up from his resting position on his side, the goosebumps that traveled up his arms razor sharp.

“No. It was...” Tony shook his head, his hand running down the length of his face. “I had a dream.”

There was a heavy silence that fell between them, the rhythm of Pepper sweeping her hand across his arm the only indicator that time still existed. The fluorescent lights from above began to dim away, allowing the sunrise from outside to cast a golden ray of copper hues into the room, bringing with it a brand new day.

He took a shallow breath in as she stared at him, exhorted him silently, softly and without any words.

“We had a kid,” Tony explained, swallowing hard. “It felt so real.”

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

I just finished yet another one of my kintsugi rereads and I am dying with the evolution of the Frank Peter relationship. The slow warming up of Peter and how much it pains him to trust an adult with his problems because of his past I just! (!!!!!!!!!!)

frank and peter's relationship is something that i was constantly trying to pump the breaks on because like, i wanted them to form a bond but realistically speaking Peter would be intensely hostile to frank on the sheer principle alone and also he's necessarily at a place in his life where he does not at all want someone to help him. And now that someone is, he's constantly struggling against the urge to retreat back into the safety of old habits.

Frank, meanwhile, is interesting to me, because he loves kids and is protective of kids but he's not always good with kids. Like, a lot of the time--he's great with kids. We saw that with Micro's kids, with Amy, and with his own kids. But we also saw that he just would mess up too. With his own son, there was more than one scene where he sort of carried regret over how harshly he responded to Frank Jr. With Amy, we had the scene in the trailer, where he responded way too violently to her when she play-attacked him and he got freaked because he could have killed her. With Micro's son, Frank had some really good moments throwing the football... and he also had the really bad moment where he was trying to discipline him over bringing a knife to school and got way too intense.

Frank really does try with kids--and, more importantly, he recognizes his fuck ups and tries to make amends. He usually figures out pretty quick when he overstepped a line and tries to make up for it. And there's a lot of scenes where he's just a good, affirming, and encouraging presence to kids--when Amy's teaching him card tricks, when Micro's daughter is talking about books with him, etc. But his fuck ups with kids are still damaging, and you can't really remove that from Frank's interactions with kids. He's gonna overstep, almost inevitably. He's gonna fuck up and do something that hurts their relationship.

Which really was important to the development of Peter and Frank's relationship, because Peter's really more set up to test Frank more than any other kid he's come into contact with. Every single one of Frank's worst parenting moments came from 1) they risked hurting themselves or 2) they hurt or risked hurting someone else. Amy almost got hurt at Frank's hands; Zach started going around with a knife; his son used a slur and was really callous towards the death of a lot of people. Peter, meanwhile, is uniquely posed to 1) actually kill himself and 2) hurt his aunt in the exact way Frank is tortured by every single day of his life. But Frank's stuck in a way that he wasn't with any of the other kids. Like, he will steamroll a kid for what he's decided is their own safety. He zip-tied amy to a fucking bed and duct taped her mouth shut. He's not exactly the most gentle of folks. And if he had the option with Peter--he would have done it yesterday. 1200%. if he could just overpower peter, he'd spend every single day physically hauling this kid home to his aunt, chaining him to his bed, and doing it on repeat until the kid stopped fucking around with crime fighting. He's just fucking stuck becuase this one can bench press a Subaru.

Frank's not here to help him be Spider-Man--he would never enable spider-man, and Peter wouldn't accept his help if he did, frank's the fuckin' punisher, he actively does not want vigilante help from him. So many of the whole "Peter meets X vigilante" stories usually end with whatever adult it is deciding that Peter's going to be better off and safer if they train him, but I don't see Frank making that decision at all. i can see matt making the decision, but not frank. like, he's just absolutely not willing to accept the idea that it's ever going to be better if a kid is on the streets risking his life every night. he will always gamble for trying to get this kid back to exclusively being Peter parker--which, in a way, is a bit tragic, because it's a gamble he's going to lose hard. So you're stuck with these two people who, against all odds, legitimately care for each other, but their non-negotiables are absolutely in conflict and it's just a question of whether they can survive collision.

[the-artof-starting-over]

Breakfast on your sofa bed

.............

Pairing: Moustead

Words:3648

Warnings: panic attack

Title: Elvis song - Maisie Peters

Also available on AO3

.............

“You are staying with me for a while"

"I won't stay long I promise, just a couple of days"

"Mouse, you're not a bother, you can stay- "

"I will figure something out and I'll be out of your hair in no time"

"Greg - "

"Just a couple of days"

Laying on Jay's sofa bed staring out at the midnight sky he could feel restlessness seep into his bones and he began to look around. He noticed the scarcity of things in Jay's living room in the scattered light from the street lights through the partially closed blinds. The lack of personal belongings didn’t surprise him, even though he’d never actually seen inside Jay's apartment until tonight and he wasn’t present enough to look around at Jay's space when he had been ushered in a couple of hours ago. Always declining Jay’s attempts at having him come over felt safer ever since he moved out of the apartment they previously shared right when they got back from overseas. Mouse couldn’t let himself cross that unspoken boundary. That boundary kept him safe, and more importantly, it kept Jay safe, and now he had broken that rule. Not just bending the rule but completely destroying it, Mouse couldn’t make himself relax. He knew Jay was just down the hall, probably asleep by now and waking him was not an option, but neither was getting up and leaving his apartment no matter how strong that urge was right now. Jay would freak out if he were nowhere to be found when he woke up or if he heard his door close in the middle of the night and he had caused enough hassle in the detective's life, putting him in enough danger. So he stayed put, forcing himself to stay on the sofa and he sat up and pulled the blanket tighter around him as if that would prevent him from feeling like he was going to explode. If he could just wrap himself tight enough in the blanket he would prevent all the pieces that were broken from falling away completely.

Standing up, the slightly rough blanket still wrapped around him as if it was holding him together as he wandered silently into Jay’s kitchen just off from the living room where he had been residing on Jay's sofa bed. He was intensely aware of the fact that everything that surrounded him was Jay's. He was wrapped in Jay's blanket, trying to sleep on Jay's sofa, about to rummage through Jay's kitchen and even wearing Jay's clothes. it had been too late to deal with packing up his very few belongings according to Jay. Which led him to be surrounded by all things Jay and that was a lot, almost too much, it was destroying every single boundary that he'd put up over the past few years. Trying not to let himself sink into the comfort that could bring, Mouse forced himself to remember this is all temporary. It would be so easy to fall back into the shared routine that was once second nature to them both. He knew this. This is temporary. The easy silence as they both moved around in their own routines. Temporary. The words of comfort they once offered each other in the middle of the night when the dreams got too real. Not allowed. Not anymore. The quiet comfort that was found in sharing space with someone so familiar with how you operate. Not safe. Not anymore. He knew he couldn't allow them to fall back into that routine again. He was still on shaky ground with Jay after he had withdrawn out of that routine last time. He couldn't let himself get that close to Jay again, not while he wasn't sure he'd be able to stick around again, it wouldn't be fair to either of them. He couldn't let himself get too comfortable, he couldn't allow himself to get used to sharing a space with Jay again like they had done overseas and when they first got back. Jay was in a good place now and allowing himself to enter into that space would mess things up for Jay and allowing that to happen was not something he could ever be okay with.

Entering the kitchen he looked around the space, Jay had always been very particular about leaving anything that could be conceived as clutter lying around, and he understood, that they had it drilled into their brains that they were always to only have the bare minimum with them in the rangers, anything in excess could slow you down or cause you potentially fatal problems down the road. It wasn't an easy message to shake off. Even back here away from the war. Stepping forward, Mouse moved towards the cabinets and was about to start looking around for a glass so he could get himself some water. At least that would give him something to do with his hands. Staying still had never been a strong suit of his. Under the right circumstances, ones in the war provided plenty of, he could do it, and he could be as still as if he was a statue, but now that he was back home in the relative safety that it provided that stillness made him feel like he was straight back into that danger.

"Why exactly are you standing in the kitchen at 1 am?" The familiar voice startled him out of his thoughts. The voice was lower and riddled with sleep than he was used to hearing by now. Meetings with Jay were strictly daytime now unless Jay called him at 3 am having woken from a nightmare. But those times had fallen few and far between as the years went on. It was another rule Mouse had unconsciously implemented, day time was safer. The light of the sun pushed away all those parts of himself that he could only show in the dark.

"Was going to get some water" Mouse replied looking over his shoulder to see Jay casually leaning on the door frame.

"You know you actually have to move to get water, it's not just going to appear in your hand because you're standing in the kitchen '' Jay's reply came back eliciting an eye roll from Mouse who turned around and continued staring at the cabinets. Looking at Jay right now was not going to help him get his thoughts in check.

"I know" he replied, "where do you keep your glasses?" The words felt strange as he said them, the unfamiliarity of Jay's kitchen layout had thrown him into this spiral. He knew it was such a small thing, but it was just a stark reminder that he had let them drift this far apart. Mouse knew that was on him and he could feel the tightness around his chest at the thought.

"Cabinet above the sink, grab one for me too will you?" Jay replied his tone calm and collected and Mouse felt envy flood him. Jay had always been good at acting like things felt normal like everything felt okay. Pushing himself to move, Mouse walked to the sink and reached for the cabinet, the blanket falling down his arm but staying mostly in place around him as he noticed the shaking in his hands as he picked up the glasses. He places one down before filling the other just over half full so he wouldn't spill anything before handing it over to Jay, his shaking hands bumping into Jay's steady one.

Mouse turns back and fills up the second glass as he asks "how long were you standing there?"

"Bout five minutes" Jay replied and Mouse could feel Jay's eyes on him, weighing him down with all the questions he knew Jay was restraining himself from asking.

"Sorry If I woke you up, I was trying to be quiet" he apologized.

"You didn't" Jay replied quickly but his tone was still calm.

"Okay" Mouse paused, silence pouring over the kitchen for a moment before he spoke again "why are you up?" Questioning if Jay had been as troubled by his own thoughts as he had been.

"No reason, just woke up, why are you?" Mouse eyed Jay's sleep-ruffled form, relief spreading through him when he didn't spot the remnants of a nightmare lingering. A sight he had hated and that he had grown accustomed to in the past.

Determining that he'd been told the truth, Mouse could no longer keep Jay in his sights so he looked back down at the glass he was holding, before answering "just the same." The lie was spilling from his lips before he really processed that is what he was going to say. He could feel Jay's stare burning into him as he placed the glass back on the counter and pulled the blanket back tighter around him. The move probably did not convince Jay that he had been telling the truth but the comfort of the steady pressure the blanket gave as he pulled it tighter made him feel enough to make that seem less important.

Breaking the silence Jay almost whispered "Mouse?" It prompted him to look up at Jay not trusting his voice would come out without shaking. As he met Jay's eyes he was stunned further into silence as Jay said "I've missed you," before effortlessly pushing himself from the doorway and walking back into the dark hallway towards his room as soundlessly as he had arrived.

Mouse could feel his head spinning as the silence took over the room and he was alone once more. Jay's words were floating around in his head as he was left alone in the kitchen and he tried to hold on to them in an attempt to not let the warmth that had spread through him dissipate.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He woke to the clattering of kitchen activity muddled through the walls only slightly and the smell of bacon wafting through Jay's apartment. After rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Mouse forces them open begrudgingly, wishing he could fall back into his sleep which was dreamless for once. However, he knew Jay, and that came with the knowledge that once Jay got started for the day he wasn't going to stop, and he didn't want to intrude anymore into Jay's routine than he had to. Things weren't how they used to be, he was a guest now. Jay was just being kind, trying to keep him out of trouble and Mouse didn't want to add any more burden to that. All he wanted to do was unload the burden, and if that meant waking up at whatever ungodly hour Jay decided was the start of the day then that is what he was going to do. He would be out of Jay's hair in a few days and he could unburden him entirely and also not have to wake up to the moon still casting a glow in the dark sky.

As Mouse pushes himself up so he is sitting Jay pushes the door open and enters the room looking down at the two plates in hand with a careful concentration that makes him smile tiredly. He had missed getting to see this side of Jay, but with the rules, he has so carefully constructed his time with Jay, only allowing Jay to see him when the light could send everything he was trying so desperately not to feel crawling off into the shadows out of sight.

But here Jay was, clearly not long awake with his hair still a little unkempt; a loose and crumpled black t-shirt and sweatpants presenting a much softer version of Jay than Mouse had let himself, bear witness to in a long time. He felt the twist in his gut as he forced his eyes away from Jay, his gaze falling back to his hands curling up into the blanket that had fallen looser throughout the night.

"Oh good, you're awake!" Jay's voice was far more upbeat than mouse thought anyone had the right to be at whatever god-awful time it was. "I made us breakfast."

"You didn't have to do that, I should -"

"Mouse it's okay, I wanted to" Jay's voice was calm, Mouse wished he could feel even half as calm as Jay sounded but instead he could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

"I will do the dishes, okay?"

"If you insist" Jay's tone was playful, a lopsided smile gracing his face.

Mouse tried to replicate that lightness as he replied "I do," but the heavy weight of his guilt was clear.

The smell of breakfast became stronger causing Mouse's stomach to flip as the smell overwhelmed him, as Jay reached the sofa bed. Mouse brought his legs into a crossed position so that Jay could have the space to sit down and so that mouse could place his plate in his lap.

"Thank you" his voice sounded as small as he felt as he took in Jay sitting next to him.

The silence settled over them as Jay tucked into his breakfast and Mouse pushed his found around the plate. He was forcing himself to breathe in through his mouse to keep his nausea at bay.

Jay glanced over noticing the still full plate and his eyebrows furrowed in worry. “I could make you something else” he offered.

“No no, this is good thank you,” taking a bite for emphasis. Albeit a small one. “Just still waking up” he excused.

Mouse kept his head down and focused on taking controlled bites of his food. It was then he properly realized that Jay had made his favourite breakfast, that he had remembered that these were the only foods he could handle first thing in the morning. The ones that wouldn’t overwhelm him with their texture. His heart swelled at the realisation, his movements coming to a halt.

Jay noticed the sudden stilling of Mouse’s movements and looked over concerned but it just takes a few seconds for his movements to return so Jay leaves him be.

Mouse makes it through about half of the plate before he knows he can not physically handle eating anything else so he leans and places his plate down on Jay’s coffee table before leaning back against the sofa bed. “I’ll clean up in just a minute, promise”

“It’s okay, there’s no rush,” Jay said, and Mouse could feel his eyes on him in that way that Jay had, the way that somehow let him see straight through him and know exactly where his mind was. It was always useful out in the field but sitting together in Jay’s apartment after years of Mouse trying to force distance between them was unsettling. He started to absentmindedly pick at his nails as he tried to pull his mask back over anything that Jay might be able to read. “You’re not a guest here Mouse, you will never be a guest in my life.” the words came out softly and if there had been anything else for Mouse to focus on he might not have heard them. But he did, and they caused his heart to stutter as he tugged on the inside of his lip, the pain allowing him to keep some semblance of focus as things started to drift.

Mouse couldn’t bring himself to stay anything, not with his heart in his throat, so once again Jay broke the silence. “I never really understood why you left, things were getting better, we were getting better, getting back on our feet and then you left with only a note that said not to worry” Jay’s voice was soft, but the words were cutting Mouse’s heart into ribbons as if they were as sharp as knives. Jay breathed out a heavy sigh before continuing “You were always on my mind, I was always hoping you were okay, basically all I'm trying to say is, I was always hoping you’d come back home, and I know you didn’t exactly choose this but I'm glad you’re here.”

With every word, Mouse felt the pressure build inside of him, and the crawling on his skin intensified. This conversation was too much for him to digest this early or maybe ever but definitely while he was still trying to wake up properly. “Jay” he choked out hoping he didn’t come across as broken as he felt, he felt truly in over his head as he lifted his eyes to meet Jays which were already boring into him causing Mouse to screw his eyes shut for a moment. It was all just too much. The intense stare, the rough blanket rubbing on his crawling skin, the words reverberating around in his brain. Mouse jumped out from the sofa, allowing the blanket to fall as he began to pace around jay’s living room, maybe if he could move at the same speed as his thoughts they would seem to slow down.

Everything around Mouse got fuzzy as he tried to focus on nothing but his breathing, he had lost Jay to the spinning room and the wind rushing in his ears. Reaching out, Mouse touched the wall in front of him, feeling the cool, smooth surface under his palm gave him a little sense of where he was. With the corners of his vision darkening, he allowed himself to use the wall as guidance to lower himself to the ground. His vision is a little steadier now and has a more solid position, his knees up to his chest, hands raking through his hair and pulling. The pain grounded him just enough to focus back on his breathing and to see the fuzzy figure in front of him.

The rushing of the wind was dying down enough that Mouse could make out that Jay must be speaking but none of the words were clear enough for him to process.

“Breathe,”

“... gonna be..."

“.. got this”

“...here.. Yeah, that’s it, deep breathes”

Jay’s voice was becoming clearer but Mouse kept his head down, unable to look at Jay's face, to see all the disappointment in his gaze would just send him spiraling once more.

“You’ve got this, you’re doing so good”

“I’m sorry” Mouse chokes out pulling a little on his hair.

“You have nothing to apologize for Mouse, I shouldn’t have said all that, not first thing in the morning, not when, i just, i’m sorry” Jay’s words sounded heavy and as he stumbled over the end Mouse lifted his head to glance at him. Jay was crouched down in front of him, looking like he wanted to reach out but he had to hold himself back knowing Mouse’s aversion for touch, not wanting to overstep. Not wanting to set of another panic attack right when Mouse was finally calming down.

Scrunching his eyes shut for a second, Mouse patted the ground next to him, gesturing for Jay to sit next to him. As jay did just that Mouse breathed out a sigh before leaning back into the wall, and letting his eyes focus on the plain wall opposite him, anything to not have to look at Jay, not while he says everything that he has to.

“I shouldn’t have left the way i did” his words came out quiet but with the silence surrounding them and the way there was only about an inch of space between them Jay was able to hear him clearly. “I just couldn’t, i couldn’t bring you down with me, not when you were getting better, and i was so happy for you and so proud of you and i just couldn’t”

“Mouse, we were getting better…” Jay sounded broken. He was fighting the urge to reach out and hold Mouse, being able to convince himself that he really was here and he was safe.

“You were doing better Jay, i was doing better at pretending,”

“I… i didn’t know, I should have, i’m so sorry”

“None of this is your fault, i promise, i Just knew you were going to be better off, i didn’t want to mess things up for you, and i mean look at you Jay, you’ve made it into your dream unit”

“I’m always better when you are by my side, Mouse.” tears burned in Mouse’s eyes as he listened to Jay and he could feel the lump in his throat not allowing him to say anything. Jay continued, “Listen, whether or not I mess up is on me, it’s not on you. Just as it’s on you to not mess up your own, but we can be there for each other regardless.”

A silence settled over the pair as Mouse kept his focus on his breathing and keeping the tears at bay, even if they were burning to fall. Jay looked over at his best friend and his heart tore at the sight of him, he wasn’t used to this sight, not for a long time, not since they first got back.

“Look, all im suggesting is you stay with me for a while, we can have breakfast on my sofa bed, you will be safe here, Mouse please, just stay, i’ve missed you.” Jay pleaded and Mouse forced a nod. There hadn’t been a time since he left that jay hadn’t been on his mind, and he really did miss his best friend. He may have given everything up before but he just couldn’t bring himself to leave again, it hurt enough the first time. He didn’t know if he could survive it again.

After some time Mouse finally manages to say “I want you to know i really appreciate you doing this for me” his voice was tight with the tears that were still threatening to spill but he had to let him know.

Jay reached over and squeezed his shoulder quickly and said “You were there for me right?”

[measuringbliss]

Spider-Man Read-Through 047: Mayhem By Moonlight (ASM 187-190)

MASTERPOST

In this batch, Captain America fights Spidey!

We also see kidnappings. A LOT of kidnappings.

Last time, a lot of things happened. Peter almost graduated, Betty dumped Ned, but it looks like she'll go back to him soon if Spectacular Spider-Man is anything to go by, we met Big Wheel, Peter Parker was hot, he also proposed but it backfired, oh and Doc Ock died in a side novel!

Here's a status update for Aunt May: she's been moved to a nursing home. Good for her!

Want the art style update?

Well. They tried!

So Peter's still hard on cash because he refused merchandising offers, yes, even the edible underwear, which I now want to see. He gets closer to a house guarded by SHIELD agents, and thinks about the date with Betty that he didn't outright refused. OoOOooh!

Spidey ends up stumbling upon none other than Captain America, who eventually makes him leave after a short fight. Cap's here to rescue a kid who's been taken by Electro. The latter hasn't appeared in 8 years of SM magazines, would you believe it?

Why is this panel so good when most of the others are... not?

Anyway, unfortunately for Electro, the kid he stole from his parents has "the Plague", so he yeets him and tries to absorb all the power station's power. Obviously, he dies, just like the Lightmaster a few SSM issues ago.

This issue had me flabbergasted for a myriad of reasons. The strange fading, the Ditko-style layout, the weird pacing... It's a strange one!

#188 opens with another kidnapping!

What do they want with Jameson Jr.?! Oooh, I don't like that. I don't like that one bit!

Meanwhile, at the hospital...

Betty, that's really not an appropriate outfit for that kind of place, what the fuck.

Anyway, I really love how Peter's upper clothes are drawn, I don't know what it is about them, maybe it's the shading, but it works. But Betty, for the love of all that's good in the world, what the fuck.

In a seedy bar, Jigsaw, aka the most nothing villain ever, wants to do a heist, but without any super-beings involved, because it's too much of a mess otherwise.

Liz brings Peter to a midnight cruise with their friends, which is fun because I like to see this cast interact. Of course, MJ's also there for her monthly ASM cameo where she dates a random guy.

I need more drama. Go further! Peter, you have to sleep with her. Gimme soap! I need soap. And Ned has to come back, of course.

And while Harry and Liz watch them from the sidelines, we learn that it's Liz who said to MJ that Peter would be there in the first place. I wouldn't be surprised if the same thing happened at the disco...

Jigsaw and his crew suddenly get on board and more importantly, I'm starting to get used to that weird shading.

Like... I can't deny the style.

So Jigsaw kidnaps (what the heck, how many of these are we going to see?!) Harry and Liz.

Hah, the third panel is a new one. Some of these panels (here, the middle one) also look like they could be taken out of context and displayed in a frame.

Spidey's main worry is that Harry relapses on being the Green Goblin. I think he'll be alright for a few years, but who knows!

In his hideout, Jigsaw's so clueless that he decides to let the lovebirds go.

That's a cute scene, aww <3

An interesting chase follows, with Spidey eventually coming face to face with Jigsaw and challenging him to pull the trigger and use his last bullet.

Okay, that's... good.

That's a lame final panel, and might the shocking guest star be Man-Wolf? Hopefully I'll really be surprised.

This reminds me that Marv Wolfman was also the one to write most of Tomb of Dracula, and I'm not exactly fond of the direction the comics took after the first issues (which I found much more interesting). I should continue reading Dracula, shouldn't I?

...We'll see about that.

#189 time!

That's a great first page!

Peter says his goodbye to May (can't he visit her at her new home though?) and that asshole finally gets his comeuppance.

Later...

I'm sorry Spidey but I kind of... don't care about all that. At least it's a nice recap. On the right... It looks like the Kingpin's son, or Silvermane, or that guy who made the Spider-Slayer several times. Are we getting another Slayer storyline? Please, no!

We then get a quick scene of Marla comforting Jameson (after all, his son's still missing!).

A r m s. They could probably choke me both.

Oh, I recognize those lips. It's that asshole for sure. Can't be bothered to remember his name.

OKAY OKAY. FIRST OFF. Once again, the shading in the first two panels is amazing, I love it, I don't understand it but it's absolutely beautiful. It's also there in the lower panels.

But also! That kinda dubcon-ish kiss! That's my jam. Love it. Excellent.

When we see Spidey again, it's several hours later. Methinks there was more than kissing here...

Soon, a mummy attacks J.J., and Spidey defends him.

The right panel is neat.

Of course, Man-Wolf's under the bandages, and he kidnaps his dad. That's the end twist.

#190 time!

As predicted, Smythe's the culprit. He calls himself Spencer, but I thought it was Alistair. Regardless, I recognized the haircut and the lips. Turns out Smythe's dying thanks to regular exposure to radiations in his attempts to rid the Earth of Spidey.

I don't mind this as long as you regularly show sexy Peter too.

Almost there!

In a belated continuation of the Daily Globe's rivalry plotline with the Bugle, we get a glimpse of their offices, where the chief orders an underling to print money. Figuratively. They might go after Peter...

So Jameson's genderfluid. I knew that haircut was dubious!

Jameson successfully gets through his son, but Smythe's really angry and orders him to throw himself in the ocean.

This is stupid! I hate it! And showing me beautiful legs won't make me appreciate this bad ending more! It sucks! It really does!

...And then Jameson Jr disappears before he hits the water. What.

Well, this is still stupid, just differently.

In the letters, a fan also thinks that recent issues had a Lee/Ditko vibe. And the team answers that it was intentional! Good to see I wasn't just hallucinating. Also, the team says that the next issue features the "final-forever" Spider-Slayer. Ugh.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

hey, I randomly stumbled upon this gold mine of fan fics and I'm in love. I was wondering, if you could direct me to some fan fics where Derek is the Dad of the pack - taking care of everyone, maybe even helping with figureing out life shit etc. I already checked the tag page but I couldn't find anything. thank you so much for your work, you are a god send

Sure, @perverted-guardian-angel!

The Last Element by AbandonShip

(1/1 I 3,556 I Mature I Sterek)

In which the pack goes missing and Stiles has to save them before it's too late:

“You okay?” Derek asks, looking into his eyes. The human can feel the werewolf’s warm breath on his neck. He slowly inches away from him, his hands on either side of his head. Stiles nods shyly. It was times like these that he wasn’t sure if he should turned on by Derek manhandling him or not.

Don't do research based on fanfics (or do it) by Chuluvya

(1/1 I 5,903 I General I Sterek)

Stiles had a problem: he was smothered and uncomfortable in pack piles, and every time they do it, he couldn't sleep.

So, being who he is, Stiles goes searching for a solution to the problem, because he love puppies piles and want to be into them, and after two days of searching, he ended up on ao3.

And the word 'nesting' sounds like the most effective solution.

Cause I Built A Home (For You, For Me) by nymphe

(1/1 I 6,860 I Teen I Sterek)

Erica is giggling somewhere in the background. “I think he’d like exactly what you’d like, mom.”

Or, a 5 Times fic wherein Stiles doesn’t realize he’s been accidentally co-parenting a gang of furry teenagers/displaying Perfect Mate Characteristics, + the 1 Time Derek enlightens him.

12 days of Christmas by SterekLover1302

(4/? I 8,479 I Teen I Sterek)

Lydia came up with a secret admirer game to stop all the dancing around each other and get the people who are oblivious about the person they like liking them back.

Wolves and Foxes Can Both Bite by the_painless_moustache

(1/1 I 8,662 I Teen I Sterek)

Stiles doesn't realize he's kind of mom-ing the pack until it's far too late to stop.

If I Could Turn Back Time by CreeperSpockJr (1stBorn_RalphSpockJr)

(15/? I 20,378 I Mature I Scallison)

Derek Hale IS DEAD! Well... Sort of dead.

After being attacked by one of Kate Argent’s Berserkers, Derek dies and suddenly wakes up back in Beacon Hills... on the night Scott McCall was bitten by his uncle Peter. Now returning as a man on a mission, this time-traveling werewolf must change the past in order to preserve the future of his Pack.

True Love's Kiss, Attempted Murder by cowboilikeme

(3/3 I 115,134 I Not Rated I Sterek)

Beacon Hills has never been the most normal of towns, but recently things have been happening that are getting harder and harder to explain. And it's becoming more difficult to keep the supernatural a secret when something newer, darker and scarier comes to town in the shape of a teenage girl. But she is only the beginning to their problems. And what she brings with her is the worst this town has seen in a while.

“What’s so bad about getting a ride in this?” Derek sounded like he was smiling, but as beautiful and unbelievable as that sounded, Stiles still refused to look at the man, “It’s a good car.”

“Overcompensating?” Stiles ridiculed, knowing perfectly well that there was no way Derek wasn’t packing something impressive.

“I think we both know that’s not true,” Derek was smirking when Stiles finally turned to him, if only in shock by the werewolf’s statement.

“I think we both know there is no way I could know that,” Stiles winced at how bitter he sounded, but once it was out, there was no point in trying to suck it back up.

Protect and Serve by MoonlitMemories 

(17/17 I 150,789 I Mature I Sterek)

Stiles discovers the Nemeton starting to grow again in the preserve on Hale land. What does that mean for the pack? More importantly: why does the Nemeton seem so attached to Stiles?

Get You The Moon by AClosedFicIsNeverRead

(30/30 I 180,785 I Explicit I Sterek)

Derek looked up in surprise to note that they were taking a private jet. Dread settled into his gut like a stone. “It has a cage, doesn’t it?” he asked quietly, and noted the subtle changes in his family members’ posture. “Is it for me?” Cora gave him a pleading look and nodded. “Is it because of what you’re going to tell me?” he asked, voice like gravel. Another nod confirmed it. Stiles. Oh, GOD. It had to be Stiles. Derek would not lose control over anyone else in Beacon Hills and they damned well knew it.

- OR -

The one where Derek has been gone for 6 months building a new life, finds out that Stiles is being assaulted by Theo, so he comes back to Beacon Hills to kick some serious ass and rescue the loudmouthed human who stole his heart.

AND

@lovinglovelyloners suggested this one!

(Sacred) In the Ordinary by idyll

(9/9 I 78,759 I Explicit I Sterek)

The Pack, after college, graduate school and the starting of careers, comes back to Beacon Hills. Nothing's gotten less complicated after all this time.

Based on a kink meme prompt that grew legs and got serious.

Note: This is a whole lot of pack!fic with a very slow build Derek/Stiles.

[ptergwen]

Peter Parker x Avenger Reader/ the reader gets stabbed on a mission and hides it from everyone. But Peter is suspicious and try’s to check. Can it end with angst please?/ if you don’t feel like it then never mind, don’t worry!!! ❤️❤️❤️

you want it to END with angst? well shit this one is gonna hurt.. literally

warnings: mentions of blood and death

“nice job, gang,” tony announces after you all pile on to the jet. “no one’s injured, no one’s dying. most importantly, i have no paperwork to sign.” he pretends to wipe sweat off his forehead. he’s sitting next to steve, who’s in the pilot’s seat. you tense up in your own. “what did i say about teamwork?” steve flashes tony one of his oh so charming smiles. “it’s all we’ve got,” sam answers, biting back a smirk.

“i don’t know about the no injuries thing, mr. stark,” peter murmurs, making your heart beat faster than it already was. has he figured it out already? “what’s that, kid?” tony wonders. he looks at him over his shoulder. “think i got a few cuts back there,” peter replies with a sheepish smile. natasha lets out a sigh. “you’re so brave.” “thanks for sharing your story,” sam adds on.

forcing out a laugh, you scoot the tiniest bit away from peter. he’s still joking around with the team. you’re trying to get out of his embrace, which is a first. his arm is wrapped tightly around your shoulders. too tightly because he’s pressing into your stab wound. it is keeping you from bleeding out, though.

you were the only one to actually get injured during the mission, but you didn’t say anything. you’d be ruining the otherwise successful night, which the team doesn’t get many of. the last person you want to find out is peter. it’s a hard secret not to share when your blood is literally on his hands.

“y/n, you’ve been awfully quiet. cat got your tongue?” tony observes with an eyebrow quirked. “thank god. let it stay that way.” bucky shoots you a wink. sam elbows his side. now that peter thinks about it, you haven’t said a word since the jet took off. “yeah, that’s a little... odd. you okay, baby?” he quietly asks, pulling you back into his side. “i... i’m just...” you wince when he squeezes you.

“i don’t have anything to say, i guess.” you’re giving peter a pained smile. “what’d i say about excuses?” steve chimes in, a knowing tone to his voice. “don’t make them,” natasha finishes for him. “what’s really bothering you, y/n?” “we’re here to listen, whatever it is.” steve glances over at you before putting his eyes back on the sky. “no, really! it’s nothing,” you insist, peter rubbing up and down your arm.

you can feel the blood starting to soak through your suit. he’ll be feeling it any second, too.

“i’m gonna go to the bathroom. tell me what i miss,” you say to everyone. you’re quick getting to your feet. “i’ll go with you,” peter instantly decides. “you can’t!” you put a hand on his chest, effectively holding him back. “it’s... period stuff. that’s what’s bothering me, guys.” “there it is,” sam chuckles. “i can see that,” bucky agrees. natasha rolls her eyes at both of them.

“you know i don’t care about any of that,” peter scoffs and laces your fingers together. “can’t scare me off so easy.” if you weren’t lying and bleeding in other places, that would have been sweet. “it’s fine, pete. just stay here, okay?” you bite your lip as a wave of pain shoots through you. tony takes note of that. “ok. call me if you need anything?” peter raises both eyebrows for emphasis. “i will. alright, um... bye.”

with that, you scurry off to the bathroom. you stumble on the way there and grab on to your shoulder. that doesn’t go unnoticed by the team.

“i don’t think she’s fine,” bucky concludes after a minute. natasha laughs in disbelief. “of course she’s not! her uterus is-“ “not that!” he squeezes his eyes shut at the image she almost painted. “he’s right, kid was acting pretty weird. weirder than usual.” sam shares a look with tony. “go check on her, parker,” tony gently requests, steve frowning. peter exhales a breath he’s been holding. “yeah, i’m on it.”

you free your right arm from your suit as soon as you get to the bathroom. it’s where the wound is, and it’s really bad. blood is dripping down from your shoulder to your arm, sticking to the rest of the suit. it gets in fly away pieces of hair when you look for the source. your eyes flood with tears, lip once again between your teeth. your heart is beating so fast that if you don’t die from this, it’ll be from cardiac arrest.

you’re attempting to clean up your wound with water and toilet paper, muffled whimpers escaping you. you have no idea what you’re supposed to do, but it’s definitely not this. it stings so bad every time you touch it. silent tears fall down your face while you continue taking care of yourself the best you can.

a sudden knock at the door makes you jump. “y/n?” peter speaks sternly, like he knows what’s going on in there. he doesn’t. he’s just worried about you. “y/n, it’s me. can i come in?” “what? no!” you yell, still holding the crumbling toilet paper to your wound. “i need... i- i really need some privacy. please.” your voice becomes a sob at the end. peter only grows more concerned.

“baby, what’s wrong? it’s gotta be more than your-“ a loud thud coming from the bathroom cuts him off. “what was that?” he’s already reaching for the doorknob. “nothing. i...” you don’t even try to lie this time. you can’t. “i’m coming in.” peter warns you, throwing the door open without another protest. his whole world collapses at what he sees.

curled up in a ball on the floor is you, with your suit half off and blood everywhere. you’re shivering, crying, desperately clutching at your shoulder. you were just sitting right next to him, in his arms. how could he not have realized?

“oh my god,” peter breathes, getting on to his knees in front of you. “when- when did you... what happened? how long have you been-“ he can barely form one sentence. he’s in so much shock, and so fucking scared. “during the mission,” you respond in a sniffle. “someone had a- a knife or something. they stabbed me.”

peter presses both his hands to your open wound, frantically searching for your eyes. “fuck...” his voice cracks. “why didn’t you tell me, y/n?” he’s whispering, moving closer to you, face inches from yours. “because you...” before you can finish, your eyes start rolling back. “no, no, no!” peter takes one hand off your shoulder and brings it to your chin.

“stay with me, y/n. you can’t... you can’t go yet. don’t do this,” he cries out, his own face now coated in tears. his fingers grabbing at your chin force you to look at him. “it hurts so bad, peter,” you whimper. your eyes are void of color when they finally meet his. “i know, baby. i know.” peter blinks hard, his hand moving to cup your cheek.

“i didn’t want you to worry,” you start, peter caressing your skin softly. he has to bite down on his tongue to keep from screaming. “or add to the list of people you lost. seems like i’m doing it right now, though.” a sad smile crosses your features. “no... don’t say that.” he furiously shakes his head, thumb smoothing over your cheek.

“you’re gonna be fine, y/n. i’ll get mr. stark, and- and he’ll know what to do,” peter tries to convince you both. you’re not buying it. “what if it’s too late?” you croak. “it’s not. we’re gonna be okay, okay?” he leans down to kiss your forehead, his lips lingering for a few seconds. “i’ll get him now. be right back, y/n/n.”

peter’s hands leave you slowly. he replaces his one on your shoulder with your own. “you’re not going anywhere,” he assures you once more, you giving him a stiff nod. he’s rushing back to inform the team of your condition just like that. your eyes fight to stay open again. you let them close, the pain too much to handle.

“i’ll always be with you.”

[prongsandhisfoot]

haha no need for an apology. it’s always interesting to see differing peter opinions (esp since i’m not attached to him so discourse can actually be fun) so in that vein, i hope it’s okay i pitch in?

ur definitely right that his betrayal still means something for all those reasons—the potters dying, harry becoming an orphan, sirius going to azkaban—but i’d argue that it became as personal as it did because he was a friend. after all, it was war time, people they knew were dying left, right, centre. violence was everywhere. they knew it could come for them anytime. that it came from one of their own, it had to have hit deeper no?

i guess the reason i feel like peter was One Of Them (beyond personal hcs) is 1. the potters trusting him with their safety in the middle of a war 2. peter being an animagus, knowing & protecting remus’ secret 3. the ‘died for us, as we would have done for you’ line from sirius.

i know there’s parts there that indicate exactly the opposite, the potshots sirius takes at peter’s intelligence + skill + general disposition in the shack but i’d always seen it as more hurting him where it hurts (with the benefit of hindsight) rather than always believing it. the way you’re aware of your friends’ faults but you don’t bring it up unless you wanna hurt them, if that makes sense? (i guess also the ambiguity around peter’s actions make this whole thing more tricky—why did he turn? when did he turn? what was the pipeline like?)

all of that being said, i definitely do agree with you that in that moment it was about james & lily & harry for sirius. when i said ‘the betrayal meant something’ i was talking more of in a larger sense of peter’s actions, not specifically sirius’ pov. some random guy betraying the potters is yeah, fine, whatever, wartime. but their own friend stabbing them in the back is what makes it a true tragedy (kind of like how sirius’ perceived betrayal hit harry particularly hard after the three broomsticks scene because he was his dad’s best friend & best man) but that’s just my opinion!! i’d love to hear ur thoughts :”)

first thank you so much for being ok with my post and second thank you so so much for answering! i love having conversations about this stuff more than anything and it's so rare for the conversation to be two people disagreeing but being considerate since usually this type of stuff ends up for me either just an argument or very one-sided so this is really fresh!

i love love love your last paragraph and i think that's what resonates with me best and kind of makes me see this in a different way. i always viewed the "the betrayal matters since peter was their friend" comment as a very in-plotline/character thing and didn't stop to consider it in the more metaphorical sense, which is always an important interpretation too.

and i'm not saying that to vaguely agree--i love talking about the marauders/their storyline in a metaphorical way. like i may have said before how i see james and lily as the golden age in a metaphorical sense--married, had a kid, the epitome of happiness, head boy and head girl and head of the world; but then they die and whoops there's a war and hey their parents were dead and their son is an orphan. they represent what never was; what harry longed to have but couldn't have (partly why the epilogue is so important). they're the idyllic until they aren't, and their story is riddled with flaws and holes since most importantly it fell apart.

that was off topic but your words got me thinking about the betrayal in the metaphorical/big picture sense rather than the "what were the exact feelings of the remaining marauders" sense and also like...of harry, too. firstly i very much agree--the idea of the tragedy, the betrayal as a whole of the friend who then wasn't. imo it's still about how he wasn't their friend in the first place--on the large interps, poa is when the books start to deviate from black and white and begin the theme of what-you-think-isn't-always-what-it-is (bad wording but you get the idea!) which is huge with the marauders (bully james, werewolf remus, not-murderer sirius, death eater peter) since the first impression ends up being the wrong one but they all stay consistently complex. (james goes from 100% good to bully to complicated but good. remus goes from perfect professor to werewolf to an occasional asshole that's a bit edgy--aka complicated but good. sirius goes from murderer to godfather to responsible to irresponsible to elf hater to dead...definitely complicated but good. peter goes from good and dead to alive and pathetic to evil to pathetic to evil to complicated but dead and bad. snape goes from evil to evil to evil to complicated to what the fuck.) and i believe the peter plotline follows that things-aren't-what-they-seem theme through that his goodness wasn't actually good and that his friendship wasn't actually friendship. big-picture wise.

but--in terms of harry. definitely definitely definitely. actually in terms of all of this -- the wording of "some random guy betraying the potters is yeah, fine, whatever, wartime" is what i'm thinking of right now--how the word friend is important in all of this; no matter what, it's extremely important that peter had a connection with james and with harry, and that it was his friend is definitely what hit hard. especially since sirius and remus and peter all use their connection/friendship with james to get at harry, so that they're important is important. but imo there's the parallel between harry believing peter was his dad's friend -> harry learning peter betrayed his dad (aka was definitely not a very good friend at the very least 💀) to james believing peter was his friend --> james learning peter wasn't his friend...well, not that he learned peter wasn't his friend, but that he died, sadly.

and to clarify, i 100% agree with the sentiment of peter shouldn't be "left out of the marauders" in fics (well you can do that if you want, no need to follow canon, just that it isn't canon) and that they 1) all believed he was a part of the marauders and their friend (including peter, up until the whole joining-the-death-eaters thing) and 2) included him as much as remus was included. and 10000% agree that peter being left out would make the betrayal hurt less--fully agree that a lot of it was about their closeness; i simply believe it to be a perceived closeness.

the way you’re aware of your friends’ faults but you don’t bring it up unless you wanna hurt them, if that makes sense?

irrelevant but slay lily 😍

i guess the reason i feel like peter was One Of Them (beyond personal hcs) is 1. the potters trusting him with their safety in the middle of a war 2. peter being an animagus, knowing & protecting remus’ secret 3. the ‘died for us, as we would have done for you’ line from sirius.

ok i'm gonna be a bit annoying (as if this isn't already help) and just kinda...answer those points? but first i want to clarify i'm part of the marauders-weren't-real squad (i really need to make that post don't i) so that probably results in a large disjunction here since my stance of peter not being "one of them" includes that there is no "them" in the first place but that's a somewhat separate thing

i think that's a super important point of the sort of trust given since trust is a major thing here. again with the parallels (whoops) james trusted peter just as harry trusted peter (ish) and remus (the more prominent poa parallel) and didn't trust sirius. same with harry trusting dumbledore until he didn't, and not trusting snape until he did, and the list goes on and on. and i don't want to invalidate anything and 100% agree the potters trusted peter and that's super important! but imo that shows the "fake" side rather than the truth ig? like the other potter-parallels in poa are of james and lily not trusting dumbledore (and then dying) and sirius not trusting sirius (and then them dying) and there's a lot of. Here's One Side. hahahaha that's wrong you're dead. so i do very much believe the potters believed in that sort of idyllic marauder concept, including with peter as a friend, just that it was wrong and peter was already disillusioned by then.

the animagus stuff is interesting because even then peter is portrayed as behind sirius and james, not on their level, needing help, etc. he's still separated even then, and regulated to level of opening-the-tree-trunk compared to the actual task of holding remus back. and looking at it symbolically, him being a rat even as a 15 yr old is consistent with his portrayal in swm--that he always kinda sucked (not in the terrorism way in the gross-teenager way), and always wasn't a real one of the gang in a sense. but also, yes, there is a definite bond between them and there was a secret kept between the four so you're entirely right there!

this is way too long so i won't go off here but imo all the marauders are very often hypocritical (a parallel to the things-aren't-as-they-seem theme!) and sirius is no exception and well...this line has nothing really to back it on sirius's end given he and none of the rest of them show any willingness of the sort at any time period so imo the sort of symbolism of that line is more 1) the contrast between the other marauders and peter and 2) the fumbling of what's right and what's wrong

i am so so sorry for this long af post but genuinely thank you!!