#and then grandpa Ned killed her

[flying-ham]

god bobby b is such a little bitch straight up admitting he knew joff was lying and still letting cersei kill lady

[legitchild]

I find myself becoming intrigued by characters from ASOIAF who are mentioned once or twice in the narrative but have longer lasting implications.

Elbert Arryn has fascinated me for a while. He was Jon Arryn's nephew and was heir to the Vale. Until he joined Brandon Stark on that ill fated trip to King's Landing and was executed. It interests me to wonder what would have changed if he lived.

Would he marry Lysa instead of Jon? If so, would they have a happier marriage with more children (I think Lysa's fertility issues were actually Jon's, considering he had three wives but only one sickly son.)?

Or would there have been no need for a marriage with Lysa, seeing as Jon's marriage to her was motivated by the need for an heir, which Elbert surviving mitigates?

But then who would Elbert marry? He is the heir to House Arryn; there aren't many potential options for him. Possibly Asha Greyjoy? Or Arianne Martell?

Quellon Greyjoy is a new fascination for me. He was the Lord of the Iron Isles and the father of Balon, Euron, Victarion and Aeron. He was a reformer, discouraging raiding and the taking of saltwives, bringing maesters to the isles and more. He led the Iron Fleet in battle during Robert's Rebellion, on Robert's side, which is when he died.

The main question with Quellon is how did this guy, who by all accounts was attempting to make the Iron Isles a decent place, father four sons so unlike that? Balon's a bitter asshole, Euron an eldritch horror, Victarion's just dumb and Aeron's a religious fanatic. How did that happen?

I also wonder if Quellon had any impact/influence on Theon and Asha. Going by the dates, Theon was 5 and Asha 10 when he died. Theon's relative decency compared to the rest of the Ironborn could just be that he was raised partially by Ned 'Honourable' Stark but Asha also seems relatively decent by Ironborn standards. Grandpa Quellon's influence perhaps?

The eldest Dayne sibling, the elder brother of Arthur, Ashara and Allyria (personally I like to call him Alford, to complete the name scheme the Dayne parents were clearly going for), intrigues me.

What does he know? Does he know anything about Ashara and her supposedly stillborn baby? Or about Arthur and his prophecy plans with Rhaegar?

Why did he nickname his son Ned, after Ned Stark killed his brother and was potentially involved in his sister's death via knocking her up with the aforementioned stillborn babe? I sure as hell wouldn't be giving my child the same nickname as the man who was involved in the deaths of two of my three siblings. So why did he?

[simpingforbots]

Hi, I really like the way you write (sorry if you don't understand something! I'm still studying English)

The Primes left the reader in the palace, carefully making sure that no one found out about them, as they grow older they become more and more like Unicron, before the Primes are attacked, the reader goes into voluntary exile (they want to find out who is their creator, flying far into space, accidentally arriving on earth (without people, like dinosaurs, etc.) then they return (at that time Sentilan killed the Primes, and they want revenge after learning what happened to the other Primes, they want to save Alpha Trion from death (successfully, I don't want Trion to die, I like him very much)

--🧂

Hello 🧂!!! I amore then happy to provide you with story and I also wish Trion lived. he would be a good mentor for young Prime and others, helping them on right path, plus grandpa cat! i would love to have grandpa as a cat! I have a feeling i might able to do it in 2 parts. Ps. Unique is a fembot.

Little Spikes part 2

The time sure flies by and Primes grew worried for their little Unique. With every cycle they looked more and more like Unicron – their little teeth sharpened, the dull spikes grew sharper and their little delicate digits grew in to sharp claws. Yet even if their outer shell grew more fierce, they still were soft – they were carful and gentle, longing to go out and see the world, but Primes were worried for them. They knew exactly how their people will react to some bot looking like Primus nemesis and it won’t end pretty, so to keep their little Uni safe, they forbade her from going out. It was hard to keep her in palace with her constant attempt to get out, even learning how to use their T-cog in early stages just to try and fly out, which ended in Quintus scrambling after flying sparkling like some kind o spider trying to catch them with all their arms. You would think it will be an easy task, but no. In the ned they had to carry them around in sparkling holder just to keep them out of trouble. It was not hard to keep young sparkling entertained like this, but they managed and more importantly they kept her in palace.

Yet as they grew older their little Uni started asking questions no one had a spark to answer, not that they had any answers to them to begin with.. every one of them could see that something bad will happen very-very soon. Quintus was walking though dark hallways of palace one night, unable to go in to recharge, deciding that soe late work will help them out, enjoying the quit time and time to time looking out of the huge windows and looking down at the Iacon, wondering what were their subject doing. They were probably enjoying their evening in bars, in their rooms or with their friends.  They let a heavy sigh, their peds clanging quietly as they continued their path when they noticed something in the corner of their optic. A shadow, quickly moving in the dark, hiding from someone. Hiding from them. Slowing down and making sure that they won’t be noticed, Quintus followed the shadow to one of the biggest windows and observed. In the shadow they can see they were quite big, taller then Megatronus, with spikes on their shoulders, arms and legs, a set of rounded horns shined in many lights of Iacon, reflecting the light as Quintus calmed down a bit, knowing well who this bot was. Moving softly, they approached Uni as they hang over the edge, looking down at Iacon with wonder and longing.

“Nice evening isn’t it?” Quintus chuckled seeing a tall fem bot jump in their armour, turning aorund and staring at them with wide orange opticks, gripping on the edge of the window with their sharp claws, calming down a bit at sight who it was “I presume you can not rest as well?

“No” Uni looked down at the Iacon again, relaxing a bit and letting a heavy sigh “Why... why am I not allowed down there? Is it because of how I look?” she looked at Quintus with sad puppy opticks “is it because I look like HIM?”

“Sadly, it is” Quintus sighed, loking down along with little Uni, watching seekers fly by “they are just not ready. They will see you only for the bot you remind them, not as who you are on the inside.” Quintus sighed, lening on the wall “and I presume there is nothing we can do to stop you from adventuring” her eyes shot up, notisisng how stiff their once little sparkling became before slowly turning her head towards them. “I am not gonna stop you. Nor will the others. We expected it, that one day you will go on and try to find who you are. Who are we to stop.”

“you not gonna stop me?” Unique looked at them in shock, slightly coking their head, thinking, before realizing that it was not without “But?”

“You will return after 100 cycles” Quintus looked up. “We will give you 100 cycles and then you come back, okay?”

Their light light up and they though them self in to their many arms, wrapping their hands around them, mumbling thanks and after some time they let go, with the widest smile on their face before letting them fall and transforms. Quintus watched them fly up and out of Iacon, up to the surface, knowing well that nothing bad will happen to their little sparkling. And thinking on how to explain to others that Uni snuck out on to the big adventure. They snickered already imagining Megatronus panic.

---timeskip---

Who knew that some small planet like this would be able to house such interesting creatures. In her time of search for answers Unique never was able to find answers, only more questions, making them slowly regret leaving Cybertron to look for someone that did not cared for them since they hatched. They sighed, running their servo over Triceratops resting on their lap, lazily chewing on the leaf she gave them. She’s been on this planet for now 30 clicks and only had a few more hours before they will have to live to head back to Cybertron. They really did not wanted to but they’ve missed their family now, knowing that Primes would be happy to see them return. Petting Tri the triceratops last time, they gently nudged them of and jumped, transforming in air and flying of in to space, heading towards one of many distance starts, knowing that it was home. They kept thinking about how they all will be happy to see them, flying in to the Iacon and keeping it low as to not be noticed, still not wanting to be seen by other cybertronions making their way to the tower in to the meeting room with wide windows. There! They can see Trion! Flying on high speeds they flew in, transforming and landing, springing back with wide sile and open arms only to freeze... who is this blue bot with golden wings, looking up at her with fear? Who is that fem bot and why is blue ne holding a sword to Trion, who did not look at his best. It took a few seconds for Unique to finally react – a deep growl escaping them as they threw them self forwards, scaring the blue one to jump back as they ran at him, swinging their fist, missing them just by inch. Yet Unique was never aiming for them, it was just a diversion to grab Alpha Trion and ran to the window, jumping out. She heard some shouting, something about Unicron spawn as they plummeted down. Trion gripped on them as She had to transform and with him on the back, flew though Iacon, avoiding shots from soldiers, masterfully avoiding every thing and manage to loose them behind one of building, transforming back in to mech and hiding in one of dark alleys with Trion in their servo, cradled against their chest s they stayed quite, making sure every thing was quiet. After the coast was clear, Unique let a sigh of releva looking down at Trion, who was staring at her with shock and worry, reaching out gently and placing a hand on her face, which she happily nuzzled in, closing her opticks.

“Unique”

“Who?” they grumbled angrily, their eyes shooting open with slight red hit in them, grumble escaping their chassis “who did this to you? I will rip their spark out! I will!

“Unique” the voice grounded them from ager, a soft servo keeping them cool as she wrapped them self around him “You okay, that is important....”

“NO. Your safety is more important”

After the fight

Looking at new Prime standing proudly in front of all the bot’s who got their t-cogs back, Unique helped Trion up to the main stage, shrivelled under all the fearfull opticks of new bots, who moved away from them. Who should not be scared of someone who is scared of someone who looks like Unicron and just killed some deathguards. She looked down, only comfortable by Trion, who spoke to new Prime. She shrived in sham as suddenly the small yellow bot walked up to them.

“So, you like with 13 Primes?”

“Huh?” Quintus looked at the bot then up at Trion, who needed slightly “Yeah... they were my family”

“so, what’s your name!? My name is B-127, but you can call me Badasatron!”

“Unique. My name is Unique. It’s noce to meet you B”

[surwitch]

Peter Quill know how sucks when something fuck up. And Peter Parker looks really fucked up. Matt Murdock just want moment of peace.

[eng is not my first languadge soooo sorry if it is a mess. it happens somewhere after nwh and gotg3, but before born again, because i wrote it when news about series was like "oh, yea, we re-write daredevil" so yea. i go from there. have fun.] tw: mention of blood, non grafic, but here

now in ao3 too: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55686070

Peter Quill know how sucks when something fuck up.

He just know, you know? With this whole "my father is a planet, my dad space-pirate die to save me, my girlfriend died and then come back but it was not her but her from another universe" thing in his life. And oh, yes, live all his life don't knowing that people invented spotify. Literal, fucking, crime. Why no one tell him? But yes, to the point: he, the Star-Lord, see a misery when he meet one.

And, you know, Peter is just bored. Earth is… fine. Very chill. Some aliens one-two times in several months, villians of the week who stop metro (like it not bad enough at the good days). And living with his grandpa was cool, but Peter was born for a big city. City that like the space - city that moving and never stops. So, Peter here, in the center of all hell on Earth (with how many shit happened here at past few years), in the New York. And well, happy accident, and he's here, in coffee shop with overpriced coffee looking at some tragedy, really.

Peter Parker (whos name Quill sees wathing at guy fresh license that falls out of his pocket) looks really fucked up.

(Peter hates that there another Peter because when he tries to think it make a mess in his head. Parker. Parker is good.)

Like, no, boy is not ugly, but, uh, you get it. He had eyes of the sad little pet and they look like they always wet. He has atmosphere like boy from rom-coms who run in the rain for hours with words in the end of his tongue only to forget them all by looking at person that he ran to.

Parker look pathetic as fuck, buying another coffee (that he never drink, what a shame) and never anything else. And he's always look like he knows something about girl who works here ("my friend's call's me MJ" tells she to Quill one day, "And you, creep, comes here enough to count as one." and then she turn on another 70's hit when he's laugh to his death), but MJ never talk about him. She didn't even looks like she knows him more than client and Peter know that this woman not lie.

And boy Parker looks like someone kill his parrot. Every. Fucking. Time.

Oh God, if this another drama with "my girlfriend but not my girlfriend" then its a blessing that Peter catch Parker. He's the Star Lord, he can help with this kind of situation. And this look more funnier than looking at New York streets for vintage stores (Peter hates that all his favorite stuff is vintage now. It costs like a airplane. Or good space-gun.)

Peter Quill know how sucks when something fuck up. And he'll find a way to help this Parker boy with some strange shit between him, MJ and cool guy Ned. Ned is cool. Peter just need to figure out how make Parler "cool" and not "sad". But he'll find a way.

Matt Murdock just want moment of peace.

And between being a vigilante and trying to live a normal lawyer life it's… difficult. Sometimes with "blood in his mouth in the middle of the court hearing" type of difficult. So having this little loud man around not make it easier.

Matt heard how people call him Spider-Man ("The dash is very important" a boy once enlightened him on a roof. He was tapping his foot on the roof, and Matt could hear it slightly shaking the iron sheet that covered the air conditioners at the other end of the roof.) and he's meets him himself.

Boy sound like a nice one. Young. And sad.

Normal teen combination. Still Matt doesn't feel's like it right for this teenager specifically. So, he'd did what he do a lot - become a idiot (At least is what Jen said to him. Sometimes she's reminded him of Foggy.)

And patrolling the boundaries of Hell Kitchen, crossing paths with a guy more often, Matt can admit that he is good. Very much so: the kid knows when to restrain blows, when to strike them, and how to talk to people so that criminals fear him and civilians trust him ("Sometimes it helps that some criminals believe that I killed Mysterio," Spidey tells him one day, "But me… I didn't kill him, you know?.." and Matt nodded confidently at him, because Spidey's heart wasn't lying.)

And Matt did that disgusting thing that he's not allowed to do. He became attached. And Matt hated getting attached.

Oh God, Virgin Mary and Saint Joseph, just give him a peaceful death.

His whole story showed him how easily affection can turn into something at your throat. (Even Jane beat the shit out of him once, and he gritted his teeth and sometimes called her a friend. In my head. But he did.) Thanks, he didn't like it.

And Spidey is a teenager. Maybe a little older, just entering adulthood. But the guy is so much like him: he's just trying to do the right thing in a way that he's found and that works. Even if this way makes him sad.

It just how he feels every day. Permanently sad. Apathetic. Dreary. (Matt thinks about how Foggy would laugh at the fact that he's worried about it in another person when he's the same himself.)

Matt Murdock just want moment of peace. But with kid, who's blood already attached to his couch, it seems impossible. Not like Matt has a lot of believers in fact that if kid doesn't was here he'll gonna find peace but. Let man have a dream.

("I have a good friend once. We don't talk now." say's Spider-Man and Matt get it. Vigilante life sucks in this case: when you know, that there's a people, who search for you, and if you have someone "normal" around these people gonna go for them. He became estranged from Foggy for this reason. His number still in Matt's phone.)

And maybe one day he's find peace. Even if it will be a little moment when beeps are going off in phone and he hears the same beeps going on in Spidey's phone.

One day. Just for a couple minute. Not now.

Now Matt figuring out what the fuck (Forgive him, Lord) he need to do with a kid in blood on his couch. But, um, he'll figuring it out. Somehow.

[this just some shit from my notes that i wrote right after gotg vol3. this just some shit from my notes that i wrote right after gotg vol3. sadly, i dont have enough skill of writing in english to make it something bigger (like actual fic, yk?) or i just don't feel muself confident enough to do something big in eng. maybe this. soooooooo take it, have fun and please write me if you want to use this idea. i think its hilarious scenario. sincerely, your surwitch. she/her.]

[igotanidea]

Uh, hi, I guess... I'm the long request anon btw... Umm... I just really have another crazy wanting to add to the request if you're ok...? (ONLY IF YOU'RE OKAY!!!) so...

Reader is a half-banshee, and that she could not predict dead. This is due to the blood she inherited from her mother side, and for some reasons her mother never inherit any of it but reader does. Reader found out her identity as knew day she went to visited her mother and stepfather and stepsister around 17 (the age she moves out) and a wolf that's about dying told reader about it and the only reason why they said, it's because they want someone to listen to them just once. Afterwards, reader buried the wolf and look through everything she could while handling her ability.

Reader cannot predict deads, but she indeed has a few little tricks: Reader can blend in the shadows and hide her presence and whoever within her side in 7 km as well, more than the 7, no. Her another ability is to control rain and wind, but reader rarely does so since it never occurs to her, and that she could only stop it for around 5 minutes then none. Reader only uses it when she doesn't want to get cold, or have her shoes soaked in water. Unlike most banshees, reader rarely cries since she's very much in good control of her emotions, but it can be too hard sometimes and it is the only time reader allows herself to be waved. Most of it would be sudden mood swings, battling with her inner monster, insomnia. She misses Jason very much each time it happens.

Would reader tells Jason she's half-banshee? Yes. Since he'd told her as well he's Red Hood and that only makes it fair. Jason's capable of taking care reader when she's waved, he hold her in both arms while reading those children storybooks they had around as it reminds her that she could never read those but now she can and Jason's voice soothes her. He makes sure to prepare food and if possible he would just gone disappearing to accompany reader and wouldn't give a fuck to Bruce or whoever and be so obliged for no reason (Damian: you are late, Todd. - Jason: Sorry. Be sure around next time. Bruce & the rest of batfam and Peter, MJ & Ned who's just happened to be on scene: ... - Alfred: A-hem. - Everyone's back to doing their stuffs while Jason gives Alfred a thumb and he returns it) (Alfred would know if any batboys or batgirls has a relationship, I just think he would and it makes sense) (And Jason would let him knows, he's his grandpa)

On ways to Wayne Manor to make sure her husband is alright, reader would try to fight back her tears even though Roy told her that Jason's fine. But she's still not okay, and tears makes her depressed the worst and that she needs to stay strong for Jason. So... reader's on the rage of wanting to throw anything and there's others who knows Jason more than her keeps on stopping her (the batfam mostly Damian while MJ literally tries not to murder him with Peter and Ned holding her back saying it's for reader) and that only kills her and... Reader starts wailing. And all of the batfam and their guests stops everything, as they now have reader who suddenly sobbing with Damian who looks with them with "I did not do anything" before reader criticize them and cry more harder when she's done (reader just keeps on sobbing and I could see Alfred disapprove glances and declare that he will await an explanation before crouching down to his knees and begins to comfort reader)

Reader keeps on sobbing while Alfred wipes off her tears and asks Duke or Cass to fetch Jason and Roy, which they quickly do so and reader is rather calm down at this point, with Alfred promising and that he welcoming her, she can't help but calm down. At this point, the entire Justice League, Avengers & Titans all presented. Tony and Pepper immediately rushes to reader's side while she called them dad and mom and began to cry again (yeah, the tiredness of being a banshee) as she isn't sure she's allowed and under Alfred's glance, Tony quickly reassured reader it's nothing and that Pepper beam saying that it's her honour. Reader's still sobbing quietly.

"Y/N?"

Reader's look up when her name's whispered by that only person she desperate to see the most. Reader cries again as she rueshes into Jason's arms and he keeps on apologizing as reader's keep shaking her bead... AND...

Okay. I really need to stop. Once again, it's up to your decision. Bye!

Hi there 🙃

I read the "banshee" and was like "yas!" without going through the rest

So, I remember about you, once again please be patient, stories in progress 😉

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

👄 Nikki

ooh boy Nikki clearly spends too much time around Tony 😂 she's a little shit and loves nicknaming everyone she meets

Tony: Uncle Tony, Tin Can, Uncle Dad

Steve: Dad, popsicle, Captain Dad, Papa, Pops

Rhodey: Uncle Rhodey, Uncle Platypus (“I’m going to kill you, Tones")

Bucky: Uncle Bucky, Uncle Wolf-Man, Uncle James/Jamie (when she talking about him to people who don't know her connection to Bucky Barnes™)

Sam: Uncle Sam (sometimes this is soft, sometimes it’s an uncle sam joke), Bird Uncle #2, Uncle Captain

Natasha: Aunt Nat, Tasha

Clint: Uncle Clint, Uncle Legolas, Uncle Bird

Thor: Uncle Thor, Sparky

Bruce: Uncle Bruce, Uncle Hulk (she actually calls the Hulk that lmao), Mr. Green, Dr Hulk

Peter: Pete, Spidey, babe, Wonder-Boy, Arachnakid (technically this is what Lady Liberty calls Spiderman)

Harley: Harls, shithead, Tony 2.0, rust bucket

Harry: Har, Harry Potter, kermit the frog, rich boy, green bean, Harry-Honey

Pepper: Aunt Pepper, Boss Lady, “the smartest person in every room”

Fury: Grandpa

Happy: Uncle Happy, Happy (she coined the name for him), Uncle Grumpy

Ned: “literally the greatest thing to ever happen to anyone ever”, Neddie, Nedster

MJ: MJ, Chelle, queen/queen of my heart

Betty: Betts, Lizzie-Betty

Miles Morales: kiddo, Spider-Baby

Yelena: Lena, Aunt Lena, тетя Lena (aunt Lena but in russian)

Alexei: Mr Red Guardian Sir, дедушка (dedushka; grandpa in russian)

Send me a 👄 + an OC and I’ll tell you all the nicknames they have for canon characters

[rhymingtree]

I'm so ready for the pain this is about to bring me.

Yayyy Ollie flashbacks

I love the little glimpses we have into this psychopath's brain. It's a refresher because most of the time we're looking at ghost's, which is also a psychopath brain but with less evil more trauma

He could do it. The Lieutenant was in a giant metal box dangling hundreds of feet in the air. He could do it. Right then and there. He could get rid of the one thing that had been plaguing him from the very beginning of this mission.

Kinda sucks for you that you didn't, huh, Ollie?

Now she's even more of a pain in your sorry ass

It's so fun watching Ollie blunder when he very easily couldn't have

His name, his picture, his everything was locked and sealed beneath everything Oliver could think of. Behind everything the Ace of Spades could come up with.

Sometimes I'm convinced Ollie can suck his own dick. This is one of those times.

He's typing random shit on the keyboard and Weston's too much of a grandpa to realize. 🙃

Even if he was ordered to keep her alive, he wasn’t going to make it easy for her. And, hey, if she ended up dead in the process… It wasn’t his fault.

Siraulo ang gago 😭

PETER MY SWEET SUMMER CHILD

Y'know I'm realizing Karen the AI never made another appearance after Homecoming

What happened to Karen what did they do to sassy AI lady

Now his head hurt like heck and he was stuck in a truck that had nearly been heisted.

heck 😭😭

Peter, you can curse it's okay no one will hear you

Time for problem solving petey

Ghost has been limping about for 13 hours!?

My poor girl...

Ghost's travel tip number god-only-knows-what-number: if you're going to travel, do it when you're knocking on death's door for optimized traveling experience 😀😀

She's wearing Danny's ring 🙃 SHE'S WEARING DANNY'S RING 😭😭😭😭😭

DARKE

I-

I'M GONNA KILL YOU

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you. From this breath, to my last…” 

I SWEAR I'M GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU

YOU CAN'T KEEP GETTING AWAY WITH THIS

Perhaps a part of you was hoping that if you touched it, just right, he’d appear by your side again.

But he didn’t.

LOCK YOUR FUCKING DOOR I'M COMING FOR YA

Not only physical pain that radiated down your back from where the brace had lodged itself but the mental pain of having been awake for nearly three days and not eaten a bite. Then there was the fear. The paranoia. The anxiety. Perhaps the voices in your head had simply evolved. Shadows followed you down the street, their footsteps only inches behind you.

Ghost's travel tip number who-cares-about-the-numbers-anymore: give in to your inner demons and let them eat away at you until the sweet embrace of death wraps around your already decaying body. they make sightseeing all the more memorable.

The faint scent of amber and citrus and spice. Duke. Another breath and another smell joined in. Blackberries. Boone.

Ghost's travel tip: memorize the scent of your companions so you can identify and track them like a very hungry bloodhound.

…He really needed to sneak away on missions more often. It gave him plenty of time to finish his physics homework.

looks like I need to start locking myself into unfamiliar places when i study.. it might just help

Right up until he ran out of things to say. To be fair, it was a lot. Who else could he talk to about high school crushes and revenge plots against the lady who trained him?

Dude I'm sure Ned would be very insightful

I miss Ned

“Check it out, Karen,” he said, bringing the thing up to his face so she could see it, “It’s like the other glowy thing we found.

“That glowy thing is an explosive Chitauri energy core.”

I love Karen sending this poor fifteen year old closer and closer to a heart attack with how calmly she delivers scary information

Aaaand we're back with Bucky being stressed but this time it's worse 😀

Did it matter? Did it matter that she may have never been on their side? Did it matter that she’d sided with the man that had nearly killed him? Maybe it didn’t. Maybe, as long as whatever their relationship had been was real, it didn’t.

Maybe you shouldn't whip heartwrenching passages out willy-nilly like this, DARKE.

Swear to fucking god I'm gonna hunt you down and tie your fricking shoes together so you keep tripping over yourself until you tumble off a hill or something

I'm just realizing that a fifteen year old is breaking out of a high security storage facility... with a pencil and a notepad

one of the biggest threats to national security is a child.

“Spider-Kid?” the Shadow’s voice finally rang through his head. It was gravelly and low, like he hadn’t had a wink of sleep since… “Shadowman!” Peter exclaimed, relief flooding through him, “You won’t believe what happened.”

I love how he's cutting off his own line of thought with how panicked he is 😭

The Shadow had been up all night trying to find him? Who said they weren’t partners?

Bro he was trying to find you because YOU ARE A CHILD HE LEFT UNSUPERVISED AND DISAPPEARED INTO THE NIGHT OF COURSE HE'S TRYING TO FIND YOU

The banter between jack and peter is simultaneously hilarious and also panic inducing

“What? Why didn’t you start with that? What do you need?” “I don’t know,” Peter hissed, ducking under an overpass with a wince, “Backup?” “I’m going to remind you that you made me stay in New York.” “You didn’t follow me?” he asked incredulously, hopping onto another truck. “You told me to stay!”

Oh my god... these two are gonna be the deaths of each other...

Aww, I love Jack hyping Peter up it's so sweet

As sweet as it can be in a life or death situation...

For the first time in ages, all eyes were on him. On his face. Not on the mask he wore as (F/N)’s little friend or as the second fist of Hydra.

On him.

I have to give it to Ollie, he's an incredibly fascinating guy to explore. There are layers to his evil. Like a rotten redheaded lasagna.

He directed his smile as one of the women at the front desk which was then accompanied by a wink and a nod to the elevator. She grinned back, a flush rushing across her cheeks as she pressed a button to summon the private elevator for him.

EW

EWW

Avert your eyes Front Desk Lady, that there's a red flag on legs.

Even if he knew he was in the lead, even if he was three steps ahead of her, he knew that the great, unbeatable (F/N) could stage a comeback at any time.

Yeah she's like... Muhammad Ali. Float like a butterfly sting like a bee.

(F/N) had a horrible habit of making it out alive,

Yeah, just can't help herself sometimes

It's sooo annoying how she's just always living and how all her friends are just encouraging this shitty behavior 😒😒

omg the fucking tension between steve and ollie

it's kinda hot yes Steve keep being angry at him

Oliver paused, trying to stop the smile that worked to his face at the sound of his name on the Captain’s tongue.

like I said, he's just sucking his own dick at this point.

“You pull a stunt like that again,” Rogers snarled, suddenly much closer to him as his voice dropped to a sinister whisper Oliver didn’t think was possible to come from Captain America, “I’ll kill you myself.”

PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS GOOD AND HOLY. DO IT. KILL 'EM.

Hahahaha of all the things that could ruin Ollie's day it had to be Peter...

oh wait

oh no

oh SHIT

HE KNOWS NOW FUCK OH FUCK THIS IS NOT GOOD THIS IS VERY NOT GOOD

I love how everyone in Aftermath right now looks positively deathly. Like all of them are on varying stages of malnutrition and exhaustion...

meanwhile Ghost is quite close to decomposing while still living at this point

OH MY GOD A REUNION

FUCKING

FINALLY

She looked like a walking cadaver.

I toooold youuuu

She was there. She was real. She was alive.

and I'm crying

THE RINGS THE FUCKING RINGS

“Where’s it hurt, Captain?” Raffa asked, looking over her as though he didn’t know where to begin. “Everywhere.”

when I said I'm ready for the pain I didn't think the pain would be THAT bad

I shoulda known better. I never do.

 By some stroke of luck, he’d managed to get everyone out of the elevator. And he hadn’t been expelled.

Of course that's what you're worried about.

Oh no... oh no oh no oh no Pete's in the same room as HIM

GET HIM OUT EVACUATE EVACUATE

don't tell him about shadow don't tell him about shadow don't tell him about

he fucking told them about shadow fucking fuck fuckety fuck

If I could go back in time and tell myself about how much stress this random long bucky x reader fic I found while bored in class was gonna STRESS ME OUT AND CONTINUOUSLY RIP MY HEART OUTTA MY CHEST I WOULD HAVE SCREAMED AT MYSELF (I wouldn't have told myself to stop reading but past rhymie deserved a warning at the very least)

I AM SO STRESSED I DON'T DESERVE THIS

PETER 😭😭 THE BOY DOESN'T NEED TO BE YELLED AT MULTIPLE TIMES AFTER ALL THAT SHIT

BLUEEEEY I NEED BLUEY WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT BLUE DOG

ohmygodohmygod

poor Jack's gonna come out of this with a newfound heart disorder or something

“I’d be mad at him but…” Rogers said after a moment before he scoffed with a small smile as he gazed into the city, “I was just like that at his age too.” “I don’t think you managed to blow up a building at sixteen.” “Would’ve if I could’ve.” 

Did Captain Steven Grant Rogers just say he'd commit domestic terrorism if he could as a child during the Great Depression?

bro

I mean, he would but it's still jarring to hear

yay Walsh knows Jack's there. He doesn't know Jack is alive, but he knows someone is.

How the hell did she manage to travel on her own for more than a whole day in the state she's in...

Raffa is a saint and we love him

“He had them the whole time,” you whispered, playing with his ring again, “He took them from Danny. They were supposed to stay with him.” It’s okay. They’re safe with you.

I'm already a mess, you have to stop

“No, that’s not what I…I can hear him. In my head. I can hear everything. There’s so many voices, I don’t know which one is mine.”

Stoooop

 “My point is, when you feel like you're drowning, just know I’mma be here to pull you out. No matter what it takes.”

STOP

“Lay your fuckin’ ass back down, right the fuck now. We may be running out of time but we still have time. Let’s make the most of it.”

Aggressively caring for friends is arguably the best way to care for friends

 “Who does this guy think he is?”

How do you think an asshole Nazi parading around as a masked vigilante would answer that question?

Also he's very good at sucking his own-

yeah that joke gets old very quickly

it's true though

Okay.

I'm stressed out.

But I loved this.

Have I ever told you how great you are at making character POVs distinct from one another... I'm guessing it can be a bit hard going from stressed-depressed-dead-inside Ghost to undiagnosed ADHD Spidey in text, but you do it so well.

And I love how Steve is reacting to Ollie donig something wrong vs how he reacts to Peter messing up. It's terrific. It's on brand. It's hot. It's also kinda paternal. Those two sentences were never meant to be next to each other but it's Steve.

Am eepy now. Time to fall asleep to Bluey and hope my eyes aren't puffy and red when I wake up.

The threat still stands though. You pull shit like that again and I'm breaking into your window at 3 am like a fucking opossum.

CHAPTER 96: SILENT RUNNING

To all my live reactors,

Please, please, please, hide your reactions under a Read More cut. I don’t want any spoilers floating around. 

&

To all my Anonymous Avengers, 

If you want to react in my asks, feel free. However, I won’t be answering any of them until at least Wednesday if they contain spoilers. 

Thank you,

Darke

┍━━━━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━━━━┑

He hadn’t had a nightmare like that in ages. The kind where he couldn’t make out faces or voices. The kind where people became blurred shadows or flickering faces.

Why did his brain choose to remember those when it could be reminding him of what happened in Warsaw? Then again, perhaps he didn’t want to know what happened. The pain on (F/N)’s face was enough to tell him that he’d hurt her. He didn’t need to remember what their fight had looked like…

Then again…

He didn’t remember what any of their fights had looked like. He couldn’t remember her in DC, only the fear on her face in the vault or the determination in her eyes on the Helicarrier. Everything else was terribly blurred. In New Eden, he remembered her anger after he’d nearly killed her.

And Warsaw…He remembered pain.

The actions in between, they were hazy; nearly dreamlike.

It was as though she had been purposefully erased from his mind.

┕━━━━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━━━━┙

» CHAPTER 96: SILENT RUNNING

✪ Bᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ Sᴄᴀʀʀᴇᴅ : Aғᴛᴇʀᴍᴀᴛʜ

♜♠ Tʜᴇ Sᴏʟᴅɪᴇʀ & Tʜᴇ Sᴘʏ

⧗ Tʜᴇ Rᴇᴅ Rᴏᴏᴍ

☞ Bᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ Sᴄᴀʀʀᴇᴅ: Oʀɪɢɪɴs

»Jᴏɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋᴇ sɪᴅᴇ Tᴀɢʟɪsᴛ

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[bellarkeselection]

Dragon Twins

Request from @phoneixgirl23 on Wattpad. Jaime Lannister x Targaryen reader. Reader is Jon's twin sister who was given her own dragon and has twins with Jaime, her husband.

Ned's POV

As I finally get to my sister I see she's surrounded by midwives that tend to two born babies. Robert misses my sister terribly but a midwife whispers in my ear. "She doesn't have much time left, my lord." I'm handed two children, a boy and a girl. Childbirth has always been a struggle for women in Westeros. Some live and some aren't strong enough to survive the process. My sister whispered in my ear knowing it was dangerous for anyone else to hear.

"They're Targaryen's. You know what Robert will do, he'll kill them. Promise me, Ned." My eyes locked onto her barely open ones as she sucks in a sharp breath. "Promise me you'll protect them. Promise me the girl will be with someone worthy, someone who will truly love her...promise me, Ned." Leaning forward I kiss her forehead as I feel her life pass away. "I promise, little sis." I'll protect Jon and Y/n as if they're my own children.

Y/n's pov

"Mommy tell Brooke to give me my training sword back!" Joanna, her older sister by 2 minutes rushed in whining. Lifting my head slightly up from the pillows I smiled seeing her sister rush in swinging the sword playfully at her father. "Take that, daddy!" Jaime enters moments after with my baby dragon on his shoulder, named Flame. "Settle down girls, let your mother rest. We ride for Winterfell with the king tomorrow." He shooshed them before coming to lay beside me in the bed. Flame lays down at my feet as his form of protection.

"Ride to the North!" Brooke squeals dropping the sword. Her raven black hair braid clashing with the Lannister green eyes. "Where Grandpa Ned lives!" Joanna named after Jaime's mother jumps around in circles. Unlike her twin she was given the blonde hair and light purple eyes like mine. To anyone outside of this room they were just simply House Lannister heirs. But to us they were half Targaryen.

My father Eddard Stark always raised me and my twin brother Jon as his own. Even though his wife Catelyn didn't agree. Days before I was sent to Kings Landing to wed Jaime Lannister, he told me who I truly was. My mother Lyanna Stark died during child birth and she had an affair with a Targaryen. Truth be told I always thought it was weird that I had a baby dragon and that sometimes I let my anger out like dragon fire.

Ned feared that my husband to be would drive a sword through my back like he did the Mad King. Thankfully, he was wrong. Jaime has been the best husband I could ask for. He knows how to hide a rumor, that our children might be the last Targaryen's...since he's told me of the affair he had with his sister before we even met.

"Yes, Uncle Ned lives North. I know that he'll be overjoyed to see you. He's enjoying hearing about you in my letters after all." I explain fully sitting up in the bed, feeling Jaime running his right hand through my black locks smiling. "Now my little dragons you better run along and get packed for tomorrow morning. It'll come sooner then you think."

Both girls nod okay but Jaime gently calls out to them as Flame starts to follow them. "What no goodnight hug for dad?" I giggled as they both run and jump on the bed. Tackling him in happy hugs as he ruffles their hair giving them kisses goodnight. Once they're gone I rest myself up on my right elbow, batting my eyes at my husband. "Now how about your wife?"

"It's a husband duty to pleasure his wife...I am yours and you are mine." He recites our vows we made before the Gods and King Robert himself, rolling to hover above me lowering his lips down to mine passionately. Immediately my arms wrap around his neck deepening the kiss. My hands gently tug at his long blonde locks before he broke the kiss tossing them slightly, a smirk on his face. "I love you, Y/n Targaryen."

I pull him back in for a kiss by his tunic rolling him onto his back, his locks becoming a mess across the pillows. "I love you too, Jaime Lannister and I'll never stop." His left hand cups my face while his right hand slowly starts undoing the back of my dress. "And I vow to never stop loving you either, my dragon." After that I smash my lips down to his truly loving this man.

[derivativealigner]

Well I haven’t watched sp all the way through for about a decade now, so I thought it was time

Sometimes I wonder how accurate the fandom is when it comes to how we interpret the characters. Like, why is Stan a football star so often in fanfic and why’s Kyle always the smart one? So I thought I’d rewatch the show and make notes along the way to see where the source of all these interpretations is. I also wanted to see if I could get some fun info to analyze, but season 1 is pretty sparse in that regard so there’s not too much of that in this post, but I’ll make a post for all the other seasons too as I watch them

In summary, it’s established in season 1 already that Stan’s a star quarterback and an animal lover, Kyle’s an A+ student, and Kenny is poor and knows a lot about sex and doesn’t have many qualms about doing crazy shit. Cartman is a bit weird since he’s mostly just a naive brat in this season, but he and Kyle have a mildly antagonistic friendship already

I have all my notes under this cut. They include a bunch of small details and other observations. I also listed every Kenny death just because

Ike has freckles

Cartman says “Weak!” and “You guys” and “Seriously” a lot from the start, also “Kickass!” He doesn’t say weak or kickass much in the later seasons iirc

Stan says “Dude, this is pretty fucked up right here” three times in this season but they dropped that catchphrase pretty quickly

Bebe got named in episode 2

Stan’s been an animal lover since s01e03 Volcano since he won’t shoot a bunny or anything else. He does shoot Scuzzlebutt at the end though

Cartman’s a pathological liar but in a childish way

Randy got named in s01e03 Volcano (and it only got worse from there)

The mayor went to Princeton

South Park is next to Mt. Evanson

Kenny will literally drink gasoline

Stan’s a star quarterback in 3rd grade

Clyde’s voice is wrong as hell in S01E04 Big Gay Al’s Big Gay Boat Ride and he has a dog, Rex

Garrison says Kyle is an A+ kid

Shelly seriously abuses Stan, punching him, throwing him, maiming him with a lawnmower

Cartman had a pot-bellied pig called Fluffy

Cartman’s mom smokes crack and has sex with strange men

Dr. Mephesto is probably a Buddhist since he says “Thank Buddha” instead of “Thank God”

Clyde’s voice gets kind of fixed in S01E06

A guy called Mr. McCormick is killed in a protest, launched and splattered against a network building. He doesn’t look like Kenny’s dad though

Zombie Clyde attacks Bebe, rude

Wendy gave her costume contest prize (2 tons of candy) to hungry children in Nairobi

Cartman’s mom is on the cover of Crack Whore magazine. “Back do’ ho… Five on one action!” is the headline

Cartman genuinely cries at Kenny’s grave after the whole zombie thing but gets over it because of candy

Stan knows his mom’s credit card number and has no problem using it to adopt an Ethiopian child (the boys wanted a watch that came with the adoption, they weren’t doing it to be nice)

Cartman calls Stan a vas deference, Stan doesn’t know what that is so Kenny says “Dude, it’s a pipe for your peepee” (according to a transcript). Kenny sure knows male anatomy

Kyle sniffs Kenny after Cartman asks why poor people smell like sour milk and Garrison says “idk eric they just do”

Cartman thinks poor people should die and decrease the surplus population

When the boys get Starvin’ Marvin delivered to them, Cartman says “Hey mom, we found an Ethiopian, can we keep him?” and his mom says “Sure, hun.” She rarely says no to Cartman

Kenny’s dad is an alcoholic who drinks scotch according to Cartman. I mean, Mr. McCormick is seen drinking in multiple episodes and has a hat that says SCOTCH so it’s probably true

Kenny’s family says grace

Craig’s first appearance is S01E09. Also, S01E09 is the first time Kenny doesn’t die (Coincidence? I THINK yeah but it’s still fun)

Clyde got named in S01E10

Clyde and Bebe both spit on Pip’s face, friendship goals <3

Cartman and Kyle have their first fight at Cartman’s birthday party because Kyle didn’t give the right gift. Cartman slaps his face and  screams “I hate you! I want you to die! Die!” while on top of Kyle who’s not really fighting back

Satan throws a fight with Jesus after everyone except Satan bet that Jesus would lose, which leads to Satan winning everyone’s money. Mr. Garrison says “What a mean thing to do!” and Jimbo says “He is a jerk!” and I thought it was quite a laugh so I wrote it down

In S01E11 Tom’s Rhinoplasty Bebe and Wendy are sitting in the swings together and generally appear together throughout the episode, then Bebe gives Wendy a makeover so they’re bffs obviously <3

Craig first appears in the classroom, though not sitting down, in S01E11

Wendy’s not happy about Ms. Ellen taking Stan away from her, she says “Don’t fuck with me! Stay away from my man, bitch, or I’ll whoop your sorry ho ass back to last year!”

Kenny gives Ms. Ellen a scrumptious looking sausage as a valentine’s gift and giggles deviously. Wendy’s gift to Ms. Ellen is a dead animal

Even Kenny doesn’t know what a lesbian is

Wendy’s grandma died in S01E11

Wendy gets Ms. Ellen killed by hiring the Iraqi government (?) to put her in a rocket and shoot it into the sun, then she and Bebe have a pool party (very cool, they wear sunglasses 😎) and watch the rocket hit the sun

Cartman and Pip play a game of kicking each other in the nuts until someone falls. Cartman calls it “Roshambo”

Kenny has a sack of marbles

The boys aren’t fans of Barbra Streisand, but Stan is a fan of the Denver Broncos quarterback John Elway (he’s not a quarterback anymore, he’s an American football executive and the president of football operations for the Denver Broncos of the NFL according to wikipedia.)

Officer Barbrady is a fan of Fiona Apple (who was 20 at the time and had only one album released called Tidal)

Ned knows how to pilot a helicopter

Kyle’s mom is a fan of Streisand unlike literally everyone else, she even gets an autograph from Mecha Streisand

The boys are fans of Robert Smith, the lead singer of The Cure. Stan says “Robert Smith is the greatest person that ever lived!” and Kyle says “Disintegration is the best album ever!” and Cartman says “Robert Smith kicks ass!” and Kenny’s dead so he doesn’t get to have an opinion

Cartman has tea parties with his toys: Polly Prissypants, Clyde frog, Peter Panda, and a dragon called Rumpertumskin

Kyle wants to make fun of Cartman for the tea party but Stan stops him because he’s concerned that Cartman needs help

Craig is in front of the school counselor’s office in S01E13

A young miss Cartman drinks like a motherfucker at the 12th annual drunken barn dance where Cartman was supposedly conceived

Stan lets Cartman borrow his bike like a good friend

Garrison wanted to have a threesome with Chef and Cartman’s mom. I don’t know why I’m making a note of this but uh… yeah.

Cartman’s mom has had sex with everyone at this bar that Garrison’s drinking at, including principle Victoria, the mayor, Father Maxi, and Jesus (and maybe Kenny’s dad since he’s at the bar but the camera doesn’t pan to him when Garrison says they’ve all slept with Liane). Later Gerald Broflovski is a possible father to Eric, so he fucked her too. Also Mr. Mephesto and his friend Kevin, that little guy, are candidates along with a lot of other people, including the 1989 Denver Broncos (and Mr. Tenorman is included in that later)

Cartman doesn’t make fun of Kyle for being Jewish much at all in this season even though the Christmas episode is all about Kyle not celebrating

Clyde and Token appear very early on and Clyde has always been in the classroom (along with Bebe, Red, Kevin Stoley, Wendy, and Pip and uhh DogPoo too I think). Craig appears later in the season and Tweek’s not in season 1 at all, so Craig’s gang isn’t really a thing yet

And here’s a list of the ways Kenny died in this season. He dies in every episode except episode 9, and he dies twice in episodes 2 and 3. Altogether he dies 14 times

S01E01 Killed after alien shoots him, cows stampede over him, then cop runs him over which finally actually kills him

S01E02 Killed in a play by a falling teepee, then a second time shot by Garrison which sends him in the air and he gets impaled on a flagpole on the way down

S01E03 Killed by a volcano rock that burns him then rolls on him but he’s alive again in the end but gets shot by Ned’s gun that he drops and it accidentally goes off

S01E04 Gets his arms and head torn off in an American football game

S01E05 Stan’s clone punches Kenny into a microwave where he gets cooked alive

S01E06 Death touches Kenny

S01E07 Kenny gets crushed by a Russian space station and turns into a zombie because he gets Worcestershire sauce in his veins, then Kyle chainsaws zombie Kenny in half, then zombie Kenny rises from his grave and is crushed by a statue and a plane

S01E08 Kenny is killed by a bunch of turkeys. His eye gets plucked out. It’s dark blue

S01E10 After Kenny gets turned into a duck-billed platypus, Jimbo and Ned shoot him

S01E11 Ms. Ellen throws a sword through Kenny’s face

S01E12 While Mecha Streisand and a giant robot Leonard Maltin fight, Kenny plays with a tetherball and gets the rope wrapped around his neck and it strangles him

S01E13 Kenny gets stuck on a go kart and it drags him around but stops and he’s still alive! Too bad the go kart stops on train tracks and a train runs him over. Stan’s grandpa sends a video of the event to America’s Stupidest Home Videos and wins $10,000

If you read all that, first of all hello. I’m not new to the fandom even though this is the first thing I’ve posted on this tumblr blog. I’ve been writing a fanfic called Caffetamine though so I’m not a complete non-entity. Anyway, I’ll watch season 2 soon and post my notes on that too probably.

[anarchyduck]

Spiders on Alcohol

AO3 Link Here

CW: Underage Drinking, but that’s about it

-----

“Sir, you have an incoming call from Mr. Parker.” 

Tony’s first thought is the kid is hurt. The rational side quickly takes over, reminding him that if the kid was hurt then he would receive a message from his AI Karen. The kid could be - has been - on death's door and wouldn’t call. 

His second thought is how late it is. The time on the stove read 12:30 in glowing blue numerals which is way past the kid’s curfew. 

A third rapid thought is it’s also Peter’s night off. His suit isn’t active; FRIDAY would have told him the second it became active. 

“Patch him through.” Tony says as he rinses off a plate and puts it into the dish drainer. 

“Yes sir.” FRI replies. 

There is a brief pause then Tony says, “You’re lucky I don’t need sleep. What’s up?” 

When he doesn’t immediately receive a response, he frowns and turns off the water. Paranoia tugs at the edges of his mind and Tony shoves back the worst case scenarios that try to pop into his mind. He opens his mouth, the kid’s name on his tongue, when Peter finally speaks. 

“Mis’er Stark?” He sounds confused. “Why… Why do you have Happy’s phone?” 

It’s Tony’s turn to be confused. “Because you didn’t call Happy, you called me.” He grabs a nearby dish towel to dry his hands. He can hear what sounds like a car honk and Peter’s breathing. He’s not at home, clearly.

“Oh… Shit.” Peter mutters something Tony doesn’t quite catch. “S-Sorry, didn’t mean… Meant to call Happy. Not-Not that I don’t like talkin’ to you, Mis’er Stark. You, you’re cool and uh…” 

“Yeah, I am cool. What’s going on, kid?” 

“Uhm…” Tony hears the hesitation and for a split second he thinks Peter may hang up on him. “Can, uh, can you…can you like, come get me?” The request is so small, so quiet, and Tony knows something is wrong.

“Yeah,” Tony says immediately. His heart rate spikes with anxiety. Damn kid is going to be the death of him one day, he knows it. God. “Yeah, I can get you, where are you?” 

Peter sighs with relief. “Huh? Uh I’m uh, what street is this… I don’t, hold on-” 

Tony slips on a pair of loafers (grandpa shoes, as Peter calls them) as the call shifts seamlessly from the overhead AI to his phone. He grabs his wallet and keys on his way out the door, and is in the garage by the time Peter comes back on the line.

“Fifth and, uh, Fifty-Nineth.” 

Tony nods to himself as the car revs to life. “Okay, Fifth and,”-- and he pauses as it dawns on him --“Wait, Fifth and Fifty-Nineth? What are you doing so far out of Queens?” 

“I don’t have to stay in Queens all the time.” Tony can practically hear those brown eyes rolling. “I can like go other places, have gone other places! There’s like, a whole big ol’ world out there Mis’ser Stark and yeah Queens is big too I guess and like-” 

Tony frowns lightly and glances toward the dash as he drives. Peter is still rambling and his words are going together and it sounds awfully familiar in a terrible way. 

“Peter are you drunk?” 

The kid blows a raspberry in response. “Whaaat? No! No, I’m not drink, drunk.” His voice cracks and raises a couple octaves as Parker lying syndrome kicks in. “I’m totally, one hundred percent not drunk!” 

“Oh my God.” Tony breathes out a breath. “FRI, find the quickest route. Kid, you stay put. I don’t want you to move an inch off that sidewalk. Got it? Find a bench and park it.” 

----------

He finds the kid exactly where Peter said he would be. He’s laying on a bus bench, one arm hanging over while the other is crossed over his eyes. For a split second, Tony thinks he’s asleep (passed out) but he sees Peter’s leg bouncing where his foot is planted on the concrete. 

“Hey, underoos.” Tony calls as he climbs out of the vehicle. The kid stirs, arm uncovers his face as he looks at him with a goofy grin. 

“Mr. Stark!” Peter sits up and practically jumps from the bench. He sways a little on his feet, takes a step back, then bounds forward, damn near skipping as he meets Tony at the car. “Hey, man, wow, you’re here. Cool.” 

“What, did you think I wouldn’t come?” Tony circles around the front of the vehicle where the teen is leaning against the passenger door. He doesn’t look hurt. No blood, no bruising. However, the closer Tony gets, the stronger he smells alcohol, particularly on Peter’s breath. “Wow, damn kid you smell like a brewery.” 

Peter’s brows pinch together as his eyes widen. “Really?” He puts a hand up to his face to check his breath. “Wow.” 

“Yeah, wow. Okay, come on let’s go.” The kid doesn’t put up resistance as Tony puts him into the car. Peter leans back into the leather, eyes wide as he stares up, unaware as Tony buckles him in.

He breathes out and giggles. “Feel like I’m floatin’.” 

Tony snorts with amusement and shuts the door. He rounds the car back to his side, gets in and takes off onto the road. At first, he thinks of heading straight for Queens and depositing the kid at home. But the penthouse is closer and the more responsible side of Tony’s mind says he shouldn’t leave a drunken teenager alone. 

“All right,” he starts. “So spill. What are you doing over here.”

“Got invited to a party.” Peter runs his hand against the bit of smooth metal on the door. “And like,” he sighs as he nestles into the seat. “It was so weird, Mr. Stark because I didn’t know no one, anyone, and it wasn’t anythin’ like Liz’s party. Ned wasn’t there and MJ wasn’t there and it was so weird, Mr. Stark.” 

“Yeah?” it’s all Tony can say to that as the kid barrels on forward. 

“Yeah! Liz, Liz didn’t have alcohol because we were all underage anyway and her dad would’ve killed us. He tried to kill me, ya know? Like… a few times. God what if the dude who owns that house back there is like, this… big super villain who I gotta fight later and how weird would that be? Get invited twice to a party where the-the guy tries killin’ me later.”

“I would say that would be very weird.” Tony agrees. “And that you probably shouldn’t put that out there in the universe.” 

Peter groans and Tony glances over to see him fumbling at the side of his seat. It takes him a second to realize what the kid is looking for.. “FRI, lean his seat back.” 

The kid’s eyes go wide as the seat reclines back and he laughs lightly to himself as he lays back. “Thanks, Mr. Stark.” He drags a hand over the side of his face and pokes at his cheek with another laugh. “My face feels weird.” 

Tony chuckles. “Yeah, bet it does. How much did you drink?”

“Uhhh…” Peter trails off as he keeps poking his cheek. “More than one?”

Oh yeah, the kid was going to be feeling it later. “Just promise you won’t throw up in the car.”

----------

To Peter’s credit, he didn’t puke in the car. They make it back to the penthouse and by the time they walk through the door, Tony is almost carrying the kid. Peter rambles the entire way, making comments here and there; talking to Tony; talking to FRIDAY; talking to himself. He’s leaning heavily, stumbling in his steps, and giggling. 

“Okay webs,” Tony sets the kid down on the bed in the guestroom. “Stay here, don’t move, I’ll get you some water.” 

“‘Kay.” Peter says as he flops back onto the bed.

Should he remove his shoes? Tony tries to think back to what others did for him, but comes up with nothing. God what he wouldn’t give for Pepper to be here. She would know what to do. Luckily the kid makes the decision for him and kicks off his shoes as he curls up onto his side. 

“Going to get you some water. Don’t move.” Tony says again, pressing his voice a little firmer to drive his point across. Peter doesn’t do much more than hum in reply and he feels confident enough the kid will be fine for at least a couple minutes. 

Tony runs a hand through his hair as he breathes out a sigh. How did he get stuck babysitting a drunk teenager? That said, it couldn��t be any harder than babysitting a stabbed teenager. Least the kid doesn’t have to worry about needles. May Parker crosses his mind as he fills a glass from the tap and he takes his phone out of his back pocket to send her a message. 

Your kid is staying over at my place for the night. Don’t worry, he’s ok. Working?

Tony receives a reply much quicker than anticipated. 

Double shift 

Trouble?

Well that certainly explains how the kid snuck away from home. He can’t see May letting her sixteen year old nephew go to a party where alcohol would be served. Hell, he’s still wrapping his head around the idea Peter willingly went to a party on his own. He types out a reply:

100% grounded. 

The phone pings with another quick reply.

Totally

Ty tony 

Tony sets the phone down and picks up the glass of water as he rounds the kitchen island to head back into the room. He fully expects to see the kid right where he left him, curled up on his side or maybe on his back again. Humming or singing to himself, complaining about the room spinning. Instead, he finds an empty bed. 

He sets the glass on the bedside table while glancing about the room. “Kid?” he calls, eyes even stealing a look toward the ceiling because who knows at this point.

It’s the sound of gagging and retching that directs him to the bathroom. Door is left open, lights off, and when Tony flips them on, he finds Peter vomiting into the toilet. 

“Yeah, that’s about right.” he sighs.

Peter gags and spits into the bowl. “It went through my nose.” 

Tony grimaces sympathetically. “That’s gross,” he says. The kid heaves again. Tears run down his cheeks as he gasps for breath, no doubt fighting the nausea and contracting muscles. It’s a fight Tony himself knows all too well and lost far too many times. The nights when he was caught in another bender, coming home from some nameless party with or without some nameless face, and always ending up exactly where Peter is now. 

How many times was someone there for him? How many times was he alone?

“I’m so s-sorry.” Peter lets out a strangled sob. “I never… I didn’t mean to be, so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid.” Tony says as he wets a washcloth in the sink. “A dumbass, yes. But not stupid.” 

“Never should’ve gone to that party. Bad idea. Dumb idea. Didn’t… I didn’t even know no one there and I jus’ wanted to be cool.” 

Tony scoffs. “By drinking a shit ton of alcohol? Yeah. Real cool.” He frowns to himself at the firm undertone and adds, “But I get it.”

Peter spits another sting of bile and takes the offered washcloth to wipe his face. He manages to flush the toilet and attempts to stand on his feet, only to sway backwards and hit the wall with a thump. 

“Ow…” the kid groans and Tony is sure he’s being tested by some form of higher power. 

“Okay,” he sighs. “Let’s get you up before you decide to pass out in my bathroom.” He grabs the teen by his arms to pull him up, finding himself doing most of the lifting despite Peter’s clumsy and fruitless attempts to stand. 

“‘m not gonna pass out…” Peter sniffles as he leans against Tony. He’s still clutching the washcloth. 

“You know,”--Tony maneuvers them back into the bedroom and sits Peter on the edge of the bed-- “for a scrawny kid, you’re solid as hell.” 

“Not scrawny.” 

“Uh huh.” Tony picks up the glass of water. “Think you can hold down some water? You’ll regret it in the morning if you don’t, believe me kiddo.” 

Thankfully the kid manages to take a drink without spilling it on himself. Even manages to put it back on the nightstand without slumping over. “Okay, spider baby, bedtime for you.” Tony eases him down onto the bed on his side, ignoring any and all mumbled protests (“I’m not a baby.”). He draws the blankets over him and leaves just long enough to grab the trash bin from the bathroom. 

Peter hasn’t moved from his curled up spot, but Tony knows the kid isn’t asleep yet. He’s staring at the wall ahead of him, seemingly unaware. Part of him is impressed the teen hasn’t passed out yet. 

“Penny for your thoughts, kid?” 

Peter slowly blinks then frowns. “You’re like… super rich, Mr. Stark. My thoughts are worth way more than a penny.”

“A quarter then.” 

“Cheap.” The kid mutters with a small hint of a smile. It’s gone alarmingly quick as Peter begins to worry the edge of the blanket between his forefinger and thumb. “Jus’ thinking… my Uncle Ben said he’d buy me my first beer. Said it’s like… a dad thing or whatever, but since I don’t have one, he said he’d do it.” 

Ben was a rare subject and one Peter didn’t bring up lightly. It wasn’t fair for the kid. The universe kept throwing more and more shit at him and it wasn’t fair. Anyone else would turn bitter but not Peter. He was good and kind and unlike anyone Tony had met. He’d do anything for this kid.

“Well,” Tony sniffs and clears his throat as he sits on the edge of the bed beside Peter’s legs. “My dad never did that stuff with me either. I was already at MIT when I was your age, going to parties and sneaking into bars. Doubt the man would have done it anyway.” he adds with an undertone of bitterness before charging forward. “Anyway, I’m just saying when you’re older, and I mean when you turn twenty-one, how about I buy you a beer?” The blankets shift and Tony feels eyes on him. “Unless it’s overstepping, which I completely understand and-”

“Yes.” 

The words stop dead on his tongue and Tony finds the courage to look at the kid. There are tears in Peter’s eyes, but he’s smiling. “Yeah?” he presses and the teen nods. A strange weight lifts from Tony’s shoulders to the point he finds himself smiling in return. “It’s a deal then. So no more drinking until then or else I’ll find another intern to dote on.”

“No you won’t.” Peter yawns and settles against the pillow, eyes drooping close. “‘m your favorite.” 

Tony smiles and brushes back some wayward curls from the teen’s face. “Yeah, you are.”

[starryknight09]

The dangers of birthday parties

Febuwhump Day 18: “I can’t see”

Read on AO3.

________________________________________________________

Peter sat down in the empty lawn chair next to Tony, carefully relaxing his sore body into it and hoping Tony wouldn’t notice how gingerly he was moving.

“I’m surprised you made the drive up here.” Tony said, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I’d never miss Morgan’s birthday.” He was surprised Tony would ever think that.

“Of course not.  I meant I’m surprised you managed to drive yourself.”

“Oh.” It had kind of sucked, but May had been working and Happy had left super early, so it'd either been drive himself or not come.  And the latter had not been an option.  “It was fine.”

“Uh-huh.  You’re moving like a decrepit old grandpa.” Tony called him out.

“Had a bad patrol last night.” He shrugged and immediately regretted it as pain shot through his body.

Tony’s face let him know he hadn’t missed that.

“You worry too much.” He complained, taking a sip from the bottled water in his hand.

“Hm I don’t think so.  I think I worry just the right amount.”

Peter shook his head.

Tony leaned in even closer, scrutinizing him.  Peter fought the urge to crane backwards.

“Hmm,” Tony said once he’d finished, leaning back.   “How’s the face?”

“What?” He touched his cheek as if that could answer how Tony had known.  “How did you—”

“You’re wearing makeup.”

“Oh.” Damn.  Of course that would be a tell.  “Yeah.”

“So what are we dealing with under all that?”

“My face.” He deadpanned.

Tony stared at him, waiting for him to break, and to his annoyance, he did.  

“Just a couple black eyes and a broken nose,” he said but when he saw Tony’s expression he quickly added, “But it’s already healing.  It should be fine by tomorrow.”

“Uh huh and what New York super villain managed to land so many hits on Spiderman?”

“Some guy made of sand.” He answered, looking over at the lake as he thought back to their encounter yesterday.  He was still irritated with how he hadn’t come out on top.  “I underestimated him.  I won’t that mistake next time.”

“I’m always just a call away if you need help kid.” Tony reminded him.

Peter glanced back over at Tony and smiled.  “I know.”

But he didn’t want to need Tony’s help.  After Wanda had killed Thanos, Tony had decided he wanted to take a step back when it came to the Avengers, a retirement of sorts.  He called the battle with Thanos his last big hurrah and acted like it was in jest, but Peter knew he was more serious than people thought, and he didn’t want to be the one that took him out of retirement.

“Don’t worry.  I can handle it.” He said, taking another drink of water and sinking further into his chair, closing his eyes.

“You sure you’re ok?”

“I’m fine.”

“As a future MIT student, I guess I’m going to have to trust you’d be smart enough to speak up if you weren’t.”

Peter smiled.  Tony had been so proud when he’d gotten his acceptance letter.  He still used every opportunity to bring it up in conversation.

“I can’t see!” Morgan yelled.

Peter cracked an eye open and saw her about ten feet away, blindfolded with what looked like the cut off end of a broom in her hand.  He watched as Pepper spun her in circles and then let her go while Rhodey held a string to bounce the pinata hovering a couple feet over her head.  Cute.  

He closed his eyes again and listened as Morgan grunted, swinging the stick full force at the pinata.

“Nice work Morguna.” Tony cheered her on and Peter took the moment to feel thankful for everything in his life.  He’d gotten really lucky.  MJ and Ned had gotten snapped too so he’d still had his best friends when he’d come back, and Ned was coming with him to MIT, and MJ wouldn’t be too far away at Harvard.  May was happily dating…Happy and they all lived in a nice apartment in Queens.  He had Tony and Pepper and Morgan, and ever since he’d come back from the snap, Tony had been treating him like he was his kid.  It’d been somewhat of an adjustment, but he had to admit it was more than nice.

Out of nowhere his spidey sense twinged, but instead of moving, he frowned and took a second too long trying to figure out how it could possibly be going off when he was at Tony’s cabin surrounded by Earth’s mightiest heroes.

Something smacked into his nose and he let out a sharp cry of pain, eyes flying open as he tried to identify where the threat was coming from.  But all he saw was Pepper staring at him with her hand over her mouth and Rhodey with his jaw dropped.

“I’m sorry!” Morgan yelled from next to her mom.  “I didn’t mean to.  It slipped!”

“Shit.  Pete, you okay?” Tony asked.

He looked down and noticed the wooden stick thing hanging half in his lap and half on the ground.  Everything started to make sense as he felt something warm start dripping down his lip.

He brought his hand up to his nose and felt the blood gushing out of it.  A second later the pain hit him as his previously broken nose started to throb angrily, protesting the new abuse.  

“Ow.” He mumbled and pinched it to try to slow the flow of blood even though that made it hurt even worse.

“Here kid, lean forward.” Tony directed, suddenly at his side and helping him tip forward.

“Petey I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to.” Morgan was somehow already at his other side and it sounded like she was about to cry.  Peter didn’t want that.  It hurt like a son of a bitch, but it wasn’t Morgan’s fault.  If anything, it was his own for not moving when his spider sense had told him to.

“It’s ok.  I’m ok.  Don’t worry Morgan.  It was an accident.” He tried to reassure her even as the words came out all nasally.

“Can someone get me a towel?” Tony asked and a few moments later he pressed the requested object against Peter’s nose to help staunch the bleeding.

The towel obscured his vision, but he didn’t need it to sense that people were crowding around him.

“I’m fine.” He tried to reassure everyone, not wanting to put a damper on the party.  “Really guys.  It’s all good.  You can uh, stand down.  Go back to the party.”

“Are you sure?” Morgan asked nervously from his side.

“I’m sure Mo.  Go give that pinata hell for me.”

“Ok, but I’m going to give you lots of my candy because you got an owie and that always helps me feel better.”

He couldn’t help but smile.  “Sounds like a good deal for me.  Thanks mongoose.”

Morgan patted his arm.

“Here.” He heard Tony say and the stick in his lap disappeared.  “Take this but make sure you hold on really tight this time, ok?”

“Ok Daddy.” Morgan said and he heard her walk away along with most of the others, getting back to the party.

“You doing ok kid?”

“Mmhmm.” He lied.  His nose hurt like crazy and he could feel his eyes watering from it.  He was pretty sure any progress his body had made in knitting the previous break together had just been completely undone.

“Why don’t I believe you?”

“I’m ok.  Just…give me a minute.”

Surprisingly, Tony did.  He let Peter suffer in a peace for awhile without pushing or doing anything besides holding the towel to his face and resting a comforting hand on his back.

When the intense throbbing finally started to subside, he straightened back up and pushed the blood soaked towel away.

“How does it look?” He asked, trying not to wince because he didn’t want to move his face too much and set the bleeding off again.

“Do you want me to be honest?”

He nodded.

“It’s crooked.”

“No.” He complained.  He’d had enough broken noses to dread what had to come next.  Last night at least it hadn’t been displaced.  Damn.

“We’re going to need to fix it.”

“I know.” He lightly pressed his fingers under his nostrils and they came back clean.  “At least it stopped bleeding.”

“Looks like it.” Tony said as he stood, tugging on his arm.  “Come on, let’s get you in the house so we can get you back in ship-shape.”

Peter groaned but stood slowly, the rest of his body still protesting any movement.  “You know, this really has not been my day.”

“Apparently not.” Tony agreed.  “Then again, it’s never a good day when Spiderman taken out by a five year old.”

“Ha ha.”

“So, is there anything we need to talk about?” Tony asked as he helped him up the porch steps and into the kitchen.

Peter frowned, not understanding what Tony was getting at.  “No.  Why?”

“Your powers aren’t malfunctioning?”

“No.  Of course not.” His frown deepened.  What had given Tony that idea?

“You’re sure?  That’s not why the sand guy got the better of you?”

“No.  My powers are fine.” He sighed.  He didn’t want to admit that when he’d faced Sandman he’d been more than a little tired and sloppy and that’d been the main culprit.  As close as he and Tony had become, he was still Ironman, his childhood hero, and admitting any fault or mistake to him was never going to come easy.

“Ok so if your powers aren’t malfunctioning then why didn’t your Peter tingle go off just now?” Tony asked, guiding him over to sit down on the couch.

“Oh god not you too.” He whined.  “Please please don’t call it that.  It’s my spidey sense.”

“Whatever you say kid but answer the question.  Why didn’t it go off?”

“It did.” Peter admitted as Tony took a seat on the coffee table across from him.

“If it did, then how’d you get clocked in the face?” Tony asked skeptically.

“I was thinking it was weird that it was going off here, and then before I could move…bam.”

Tony shook his head in consternation.  “Next time don’t think about it, just act.”

“Right.  Obviously.”

Peter tried not to tense as Tony brought his thumbs up to his nose.  They’d done this dance more than once but it never got any easier.  At least he didn’t have to do it to himself this time.  That was always way worse.

“This might hurt a little.” Tony warned.

“I know.” Peter sighed.

“On three.” Tony said.  “One.  Two.”

Tony pressed his thumbs together, realigning everything back into place with a grinding crunch.

He grunted, his eyes watering again with the new pain.

"You missed three." He complained.

“Sorry.” Tony said and Peter knew he meant it.  Seeing him hurt always seemed to hurt Tony equally as much, which was another reason Peter tried to avoid it at all costs.    

“It’s ok.” He wiped the errant tears away.  “Does it look better?”

“It looks great kid.” Tony gave him a pat on his shoulder.  “Want to get back to the party?”

Honestly, it was the last thing Peter felt like doing but he couldn’t let Morgan down.  “Sure.”

“Or you could lay down in here for a little while and I’ll come get you when it’s time to cut the cake?” Tony offered like a mind reader.

Peter sighed in relief.  “Are you sure?” He asked, searching Tony’s eyes.  He didn’t want to disappoint Morgan.

“It’s perfectly fine.” Tony said, already guiding him to lay down on the couch.  “Do you want me to stay with you?”

“No.” He protested instantly.  The last thing he wanted was to take Morgan’s dad away from her on her birthday.  “Go be with Morgan.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok.  I’ll be right outside if you need me.  Just let FRIDAY know.”

“I’ll be fine.  I’m just going to close my eyes for a few minutes.” He mumbled.  “Tell Morgan I’m sorry for missing her party.”

“She’ll be fine kid.  You’ll have plenty of time to see her later.” Tony ruffled his hair.  "You can stay the night.  She'll love that."

That sounded like a good idea.  He definitely hadn’t been looking forward to getting back in the car later.

Tony draped a blanket over him.  “Get some rest Pete.”

“Thanks da- uh dude.  Thanks dude.” His cheeks heated in embarrassment at the near slip and he kept his eyes stubbornly shut so he wouldn’t have to see the look on Tony’s face to know if he’d caught it.

Tony let out an amused snort.  “You’re welcome dude.”

[lucisdemon]

Throbb Parent Headcanons

- They had children through a surrogate with red hair and blue eyes. Theon is their biological father.

- They call Theon papa and Robb daddy/dad

- They have twins first, not identical. Eoin, their son, is ten minutes older than Aarin, their daughter.

- Eoin’s full name is Eoin Jameson Greyjoy-Stark. He looks exactly like Theon but he’s all Robb personality wise.

- Aarin’s full name is Aarin Alannys Greyjoy-Stark. She has red hair and blue eyes, but she is her papa’s child through and through.

- Eoin talked first, he said Gwey

- Aarin’s first word was shit and Robb smacked his husband upside the head.

- When the twins were five they had another son, Honor Eddard Greyjoy-Stark. He’s an exact mix of the two. Brown hair and blue eyes, with Robb’s sense of honor and Theon’s mischievousness.

- Honor’s first words was Daddy

- After deciding they were done at three, they both realise they want another kid.

- So when Honor is nine they decide to have the fourth one. And they end up with twins again. Identical this time. Two boys that have red hair and blue eyes, with Theon’s impulsiveness and Robb’s short temper. 

             - Elliot Shaw Greyjoy-Stark and Gabriel Bradley Greyjoy-Stark

- Elliot’s first word was Papa

- Gabriel’s first word was Elli

- Robb loves that his kids get to experience having a family as big as his and Theon loves that his kids get to experience a family that’s so close and loving. 

- Theon regrets joking that they don’t really have as many as Robb’s parents seeing they raised Jon because Robb gets the look in his eyes that means one thing.

- So that’s how they end up with their sixth two years after the twins. Oceana Catelyn Greyjoy-Stark looks exactly like Theon. She got his impulsiveness, but mostly she’s like Robb

- Oceana’s first word was Yara.

- Theon tells Robb that if he even thinks about having a seventh he’ll smack him.

- When Eoin comes home and announces he has a boyfriend when he’s sixteen the two have mixed reactions. Robb is nervous, Eoin’s his first child to start dating, but he’s happy that Eoin’s happy. Theon is fine with his son dating, but he spent the first week asking his son why he had to choose Jaime Lannister’s son of all people

              - Then he sees them together at a cafe when he’s out shopping and decides that maybe the kid isn’t so bad

- Theon about damn near has a heart attack when Aarin announces she has a boyfriend. He may have cried into Robb’s shoulder a little when they went to bed.

- Theon secretly helped Aarin dye her hair blue and spent the next two days on the couch when Robb found out. 

- Eoin has his nose and lip pierced. Robb actually almost killed his husband that time.

- Honor’s nine when he meets Axel Bolton and becomes best friends with him. Robb and Theon are deeply concerned but when they meet the kid he’s nothing like his father. They also find out he’s in foster care after his father went to jail and his mother was deemed unfit to care for him.

- Axel becomes a fixture in the house, him and Honor are inseparable.

- Robb jokes that they have their Theon now and has to duck when Theon tries to slap him upside the head.

- Ned died when Eoin and Aarin were four, Catelyn a year before Oceana was born.

- Jon and Sansa are godparents to Eoin and Aarin.

- Rickon and Arya are godparents to Elliot and Gabriel.

- Bran and Yara are godparents to Honor and Oceana.

- When Oceana was two they got all the kids guinea pigs.

- Robb cried when each kid started preschool, kindergarten, middle school, and high school. But he sobbed dropping every kid off at college.

             - Theon cried too once they were in bed.

- Eoin marries Sebastian Lannister when he’s twenty three and two years later they adopt a baby boy named Trystan, which is the start of grandchild mania.

- Robb is the ultimate grandpa. He spoils Trystan immensely and every grandchild that follows.

- Theon loves being a pop pop. He missed having babies around.

- They end up with nineteen grandkids in total.

              - Three from Eoin

              - One from Aarin

              - Six from Honor

              - Four from Elliot

              - Two from Gabriel

              - Three from Oceana

- They never raise their voices at the kids. 

- Robb is the stricter of the two, but he’s still not too strict.

- The kids know to always listen to Robb, they know Theon will let a lot of things slide more, or they won’t get in trouble as much.

             - But Theon does have a few rules and if one of the kids breaks them he’s worse than Robb. I’m talking about an hour long lecture and extra long grounding.

Inspired by @littlerockerao3 ‘s request for headcacons.

[ten0rreaper]

Here’s my entry to the @pnatsecretsanta for 2020! @quarktrinity, I hope you enjoy! It’ll be crossposted to ao3, link will be in a reblog. Thank you for your patience!

Isabel: hey so

Isabel: when are u going to get here

Max: wat?

Max: its xmas ev

Isabel: you really need to get a new phone

Isabel: and remember? youre supposed to come to my place tonight, wait it out

Isabel: max?

Isabel: if you were spacing out again im going to kill you

Isabel: you WERE doing the face again now that i think about it

Max: u guys ned 2 mak imprtnt info cler. Y i spcd

Isabel: you need to listen! this time mr spender remembered to tell u and everything. youre not allowed to be mad at us this time

Isabel: in short, get ur butt over here before midnight. sneak out if u need to, thats what isaac does

Isabel: in long, if u dont santas gonna kill u

----

“Let me get this straight.” 11:30 P.M. December 24th, 20XX. Max sat in Ed’s room on a chair hastily drawn up, with a jacket pulled hastily over his pajamas and hat still jammed on his head, massaging his temples. “Santa’s real, he’s a spirit, and he hates all spectrals and is coming to kill us?”

“That’s a bit of an oversimplification, but yeah,” Isaac said, and Max shot him a glare. He could hear that smugness. “So like, there’s a lot of spirits that kinda grow from ideas humans have, right? I don’t know what’s up with Scrapdragon, but like, Muse came from the ideas around ancient Greek muses, like his name. They can be really off base but still have the same ideas- like Lucifer, Mr. Spender’s spirit, is just some lightbulb guy, but Lucifer does mean light and stuff, so they can just be along those lines. But like, a LOT of kids believe in Santa and think about him a lot, so there’ve been a few spirits that manifested around the idea of a guy who can get anywhere to deliver presents to good kids and punishments to bad ones, especially with stories like Krampus too.”

“But most spirits can’t interact with humans, so this guy mostly goes around to other spirits and ghosts and stuff,” Isabel said, distracted by her attempts to spin her umbrella like a top. “So he likes spirits a lot. And we kick a lot of spirit butt,” she punctuated this with a particular spirited spin of the umbrella, “so he hates us and comes to try to kill us every year. And because he can teleport, he can get inside the barrier. So gramps makes us all stay with him until sunrise every year so that all the adults can fight off santa and his reindeer so we don’t get put in a sack and teleported somewhere.”

Max groans and tries to fall backwards in his chair, but the chair doesn’t budge. “Your paint really isn’t good for drama,” Max informed Ed.

“Don’t be so dramatic then,” Ed snickered. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Says you, You just stay at home all night. I have to sneak out! My dad’ll kill me if he finds out!”

“I just put a pillow in my blankets and it’s fine,” Isaac says with a shrug. “If your dad looks harder than that, we probably have a tool lying around that can wipe memories or something.”

“I don’t want to mind wipe my dad,” Max grumbled, but resigned himself to slumping grumpily in his chair to watch Ed play some punching game or whatever. Bad enough that his own baseball bat might want to eat him, and he was trapped in this town with no way out- now Christmas hated him too. 

Isaac caught his eye and smiled sympathetically. “You get used to it,” he whispered.

“I thought I was used to it a month ago.”

Max jumped as a knock on the door sounded, glaring at Isabel’s laughter. The door opened without waiting for a response. Mr. Spender poked his head in through the door with a goofy grin. “Alright, kids! You all ready for this year’s Christmas night?”

Ed didn’t even look away from his video game, waving lazily. “We could use some snacks. That’d be nice.”

“Yeah, where are the snacks, old man? You want us to starve?” Isabel waved her umbrella at him like a grumpy old woman might a cane.

“You’re well fed enough already. I made sure of that.” It spoke wonders to how used to this existence Max had become that Mr. Spender knocking politely had scared him, but Isabel’s grandpa floating through the wall didn’t. The man’s bulk and imperious gaze still caused him some anxiety, though, and he had to consciously remind himself that he’s a punk, he’s cool, and he doesn’t respect anyone’s authority, even a scary ghost’s. Yeah, totally. 

The atmosphere of the room quickly shifted, and Isabel’s eyes dropped. “Yeah, I was just joking. Sorry, Grandpa.”

“Joke or not, this night is too much effort to make light of. My students and I are putting ourselves at risk for you,” Mr. Guerra said, looming over the room, “so only vocalize a need if you need it.”

Isabel glowered at the carpet. “Alright, Grandpa…”

“So. I will ask again. Are you all prepared? Midnight strikes soon.”

“We are, sir,” Isaac said. Max fought not to pull a face at Isaac’s please pay attention to me, authority figure tone, but for once it was helpful, so whatever. He could let it slide. 

Mr. Guerra eyed Isaac. “...good. We’ll get you once the sun begins to rise.” And with that, he turned away and slid down through the floor. Max could already hear him barking at the pupils below.

Mr. Spender grimaced. “Well… good! Everything’s all set then.”

Isabel grumbled, picking at the carpet.

“...trust me,” Mr. Spender said, forcing audibly fake cheer into his voice, “This isn’t a hassle at all. You guys getting stuffed into a sack- now, that would be quite the kerfuffle!”

They all stared as Mr. Spender slowly deflated. “...sure,” Max said. “Uh, we’ll be good, stay up here, it’s fine.”

“Great.” Mr. Spender nodded, stared awkwardly for a moment, and stepped out the door. “Well, Merry Christmas, children!” He shut the door behind him. Max listened with the others as his footsteps hurried down the hall to the stairwell.

Silence reigned for a few minutes, a distinctly uncomfortable experience for Max. It was almost impossible not to ramble, and he was reaching his breaking point and about to open the floodgates of inane and overly verbose chatter when Ed, thankfully, took point.

“That sucked,” he said simply, and Isabel groaned and fell back.

“I hate when he does that!” Isabel laid her umbrella by her side and waved her hands in the air exasperatedly. “It’s like he has no in between and I’m always either The Best And He’s So Disappointed In Me For Not Being Perfect or A Helpless Kid He Needs To Do Everything For! He always gets like this tonight!”

Ed paused his game, and reached around to pat her on the knee. “I mean, we could prove him wrong. We beat up spirits all the time, how hard could this be?”

“Okay, hold up, hand on,” Max said. “No? I- this is a terrible idea, you just got finished telling me about how if I wasn’t here I’d be killed by Santa, and now you want to go out there and fight Santa?”

“Well, not Santa,” Ed said. “Duh. He mostly just sends his reindeer to do everything and hangs out on rooftops.”

“And no offence Max, but uh…” Isaac scratched the back of his head.

“You’d totally get killed if you were on your own.” Isabel flipped herself upright. “All you got is that dinky bat, and magnet powers. You can’t even do a spec shot, dude, you’d get thrown in a sack in no time. We’d be fine.”

Max crossed his arms. “Alright, screw you too.”

“But other than that… that sounds like it could be pretty fun.” Isabel grinned. “Show the old man and his big dumb deer who’s boss. Maybe then he’ll stop coming to Mayview every year.”

“That would be pretty nice actually.” Isaac was clearly thinking hard- he had his broody face on. “I would like to stop having to sneak out every year. Sooner or later my parents will notice.”

Max shuddered. “Actually, yeah, Isaac has a point. I don’t want to die to Rudolph or anything, but if we keep having to do this, I’ll die to my dad, which is way worse honestly.”

“Your dad’s a teddy bear,” Isabel said, and rolled her eyes. “Stop complaining.”

“You haven’t seen him when I fail a test!”

“So are we going or what?” Isabel was already pulling her jacket back on, tucking her umbrella firmly under her arm. Ed bounced on the balls of his feet with a grin, already eyeing up the window and painting himself a rope. 

Max looked at Isaac, who shrugged and got to his feet. Max sighed, and stood up, regretfully leaving his scooter on the floor. “Yeah, alright. We’re going.”

Well, Max was regretting this. He was regretting this so much. He tromped through the snowy woods, eternally grateful for his boots. “Why in the world do we have to fight the spirits of Christmas in the woods? Why can’t we do it in town, or like, on the road at least? The roads we salted. The roads wouldn’t be as cold.”

“Cuz we’d get caught, dummy,” Isabel snorted. Or maybe it was a sniffle. “Either someone from the dojo would hear us and yell at us and get in the way before we can prove anything, or someone in town would yell at us and call the cops or something.”

“Maybe having people nearby to help isn’t a bad thing? You can’t just say that after saying that I’m the most likely person to die!”

“You came out here anyway,” Isaac pointed out, and looked all too unaffected by Max’s glare.

“I hate you. I hate you with everything in my being you- you chump elf.”

Isabel laughed. “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, this place looks pretty good, huh?” She stopped, looking around the snowy clearing they’d come into and turning in place. She nodded, satisfied. “There’s room to fight here, and we could come up with some pretty solid traps. Isaac wouldn’t have to worry too much about blasting a bunch of trees.”

“Looks pretty good!” Ed pulled off a mitten with his teeth and dug his paint brush out of his pocket. “What’re you thinkin, Izzy? Tripwire? Net?”

“Let’s go net,” Isaac said. “They can fly.”

“Plus, last time you tripped Isaac, remember?” Isabel elbowed Ed in the side. “Max and I are pretty fast, but Isaac needs some help.”

“Please. I can jump higher than your house is tall.”

“But you still fell just flat on your face,” she cooed. Isaac grumbled, cursing her just loud enough for Isabel to overhear, but she just batted her eyes and paid him no mind. “Okay, so,” she said, looking up at the sky through the hole in the canopy, “we probably only have a few more minutes before one of the reindeer finds us-”

And that’s when a dark shape, faster than cheetah and twice as forceful, barrelled into Max.  And off he went, hanging by the hood of his jacket on a wicked sharp antler prong, into the sky and away to the sound of jingling bells.

----

Things were quiet this year, Richard reflected. It was honestly a relief- maybe the spirit had finally given up. Probably too much to hope for, but, Christmas miracles and all. In any case, there seemed to be plenty of time to get the kids some mugs of hot cocoa and cookies to wait out the night with.

“Need any help balancing those?” Day asked, and Richard felt his mood become momentarily strained.

“Actually, that would be nice, if you think you could.” The tray of mugs and cookies he was balancing was quite the challenge, after all. Day reached up and somehow grabbed the plates of cookies perfectly- Spender could swear he saw her eyes flash for a moment, smart woman- and left him to balance the four mugs. A much easier task now.

“I really thought things would be more eventful, with how much Francisco was fussing over it, but everything’s pretty quiet, isn’t it?” Day smiled and followed Richard’s footsteps to the stairs.

“Well, usually there’s more cause for it, but the spirits seem to be laying low this year. Not an unwelcome reprieve in the slightest, but I do worry about Max… if this isn’t the new status quo, I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.”

“He’s a- well, he seems like a really smart kid,” Day reassured him. “I think he’ll make sure to be careful next year too!”

“I hope so. He does seem resourceful, but… he can be reckless.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” she said, before stopping with a small frown on her face. “They’re being pretty quiet…”

Spender listened for a moment himself. “Hm, they are… mayhaps they went to bed early?”

“That doesn’t sound like them.”

“No,” he said, dread creeping into his heart. “It doesn’t.”

He set the tray of cookies on the floor. He approached Ed’s room. He knocked.

He opened the door.

Richard’s lips thinned into a grim line as he surveyed the dark room. “They’re gone.”

------

Max screamed for his life as he was lifted faster than he could process into the sky. It was a clear, starry night, and they all looked like streaks as his captor circled through the sky, closer and closer to the top of the dome before colliding headfirst into it. Max didn’t have any more air in his lungs to scream as he was jostled loose and began to fall down, down- only to be caught again, this time like a sack of potatoes on the spirit’s back. He was overwhelmed by the sound of silver bells as he caught his breath, eyes screwed tightly shut.

Eventually, his lungs rallied to his call, and he was able to take in an unpleasant few gulps of animal-scented air. Max cracked his eyes open a peek- and immediately shut them again. Too high. He was way, way too high up. His heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest, and the wind burned his face and the tips of his ears.

Hold on.

“My hat,” he wheezed reaching one hand up to grope the top of his head. “My hat’s gone!”

“Soon that will be of no matter.”

Max screamed- even he was getting fed up with his own screams at this point, but instinct didn’t seem to be on the same page.

“Quiet,” the rumbling voice said, and the spirit turned to look at Max. “Your sounds irritate me.”

The spirit that held Max on its back was by far the biggest deer of any Max had ever seen. It was shaggy and majestic, even as its fur was electric yellow, and its huge rack of knife-like antlers shivered as if they were made of candle flame. Its many eyes blinked, and it beared serrated teeth- a stark contrast to the many silver bells that seemed a part of its pelt. Max looked away, avoiding its cruel gaze, to see three pairs of legs, hooves thundering over empty air. And below him, seven more enormous shapes were blazing their way towards the distant forest clearing, led by an eerie red light. “Oh no, oooooh no, no no no no no no…”

“But yes, child. At last you have been retrieved, and soon your friends will be as well. Then, you can all face your punishment.” The spirit laughed cruelly. “I am Dasher, and I was simply the herald.”

“So you’re just, you’re just Dasher? Like from the poem? One of those things down there is…” Jeez, this was surreal. “...Donner? And, Vixen?”

“Many tremble in fear before those names. It would do you right to show some respect.”

“What? No, nobody does! You guys are like, goofy little stop motion dolls, man, how’d you guys end up looking like this?”

“Our powers are untold by your human poems-”

“Aren’t you guys based on the poems?!”

Dasher snorted and tossed his head in anger. “That is an egregious oversimplification-”

“I thought your name was Dasher, not Dictionary.”

The spirit cried out in frustration, and Max felt something in him settle a bit better. Poking things with words, he could do that. Just don’t look down. “So, uh,” he began, shifting a bit so it was less like he was thrown over Dasher and more like he was riding him, “why am I not in a sack yet?”

“Our pilot is attending to his annual business in Mayview,” Dasher growled. “It is we who have the ability to fight and fly- so it is we who collect naughty children. Once your compatriots have been obtained, then we may return to our stations.”

“Wow,” Max drawled. “I can’t believe Santa needs his reindeer to deal with three preteens.”

“You do have a teenager within your ranks. That does provide some extra challenge.”

“Whoa, wait, really?”

“Yes. He cannot fully be counted as a child by our pilot any longer- he has aged enough to become a teenager. It is not he that we seek.”

“Wow, that’s weirdly arbitrary and nitpicky.” Max was so going to tease Isaac about this later. If he didn’t, well, get thrown into a sack and… baked into a pie? Eaten alive? Thrown into a dungeon? Whatever. Try to be positive.

“If you take issue, you may air your complaints to our pilot.”

“Taking it straight to the manager, alright.” Max stared at his hands, balled in bright yellow fur, and took a deep breath as he relaxed them. He wasn’t going to fall, he was certain Dasher wouldn’t allow him, channel a Karen- and he released the fur, balancing on the spirit’s back with only his legs. Before he could lose his nerve, he swung his backpack off his shoulder and grabbed his bat. Okay, weapon acquired. Just… what to do with it.

Dasher huffed. “Puny weapon. Even with the power of an enslaved spirit, you cannot defeat me. Especially not with a spirit as weak as that one.”

“Ugh, not you too,” Max grumbled. At least this thing wasn’t getting aggressive. “I’m kinda tired of being called the weak one, it’s getting old.”

“It would have been better, then, if you had kept your power to yourself, and not bothered the true denizens of this world, as the other child does.”

“Other child-? You know what, I don’t know what you’re talking about and I do not care. Now let me think.” Max re-gripped Dasher tightly, this time grabbing the reigns, and looked around. Man, of course Max got magnet powers in the place where there’s no tall buildings anywhere- it would be great if they could pass by a skyscraper or two for Max to attach himself to. But alas… then, his eyes caught a gleam, a dark silhouette against the colorful lights of Mayview. 

A transmission tower in the woods. And they were heading right for it. Max shrugged his backpack back on to his shoulder and gripped his bat as tight as he could.

“Thinking will get you nowhere, child.”

“Yeah, but it’ll keep me quiet,” Max mumbled.

“True,” Dasher said. And started to turn back towards the clearing.

“No!” Max yelped, holding his bat out desperately- he knew the tower was too distant still, but he put all his will into the bat, trying to extend its power as far as he can-

Dasher lurched beneath him with a confused cry, the bells jangled, and Max’s focus was broken with a shout. Immediately, Dasher steadied beneath him.

“Child, if you do that again I will throw you off into the ground-”

“What- I don’t even know what I did-” Max’s breath caught as he realized what happened. The bells. They were metal, and he had what was definitely a terrible idea. But it was his only idea.

Quickly, before Dasher could retaliate, Max activated his bat. Dasher howled with rage as all the bells in his body strained in the direction of the magnetic center, and Max laughed with panic. 

“RELEASE ME AT ONCE-”

“No,” Max said, filled with thrill and panic, and directed Dasher back towards the clearing. The spirit barrelled towards it at supernatural speeds, a furious scream echoing through the night as he crashed into the snow like a comet. Max tumbled off of the spirit’s back, and the bat’s angle changed wildly, forcing Dasher in mad circles.

The other seven deer spirits, crowded in the woods, were as thrown into chaos as Isabel, Ed, and Isaac were, but Ed recovered fastest. “Max!” He crowed, head popping out of the snow. “You’re alive!”

“Somehow!” Max laughed, voice squeaky with panic. “For now!” In the corner of his eye, he noticed another spirit- a large one that was on fucking fire, so must be either Comet or Blitzen- and quickly swung his bat around to point at it. Dasher was forced to charge full speed into the other spirit, which dissolved into a wisp with a cry of shock.

Isabel whooped. “I can’t believe it! Magnet powers are good for something!”

“Serves you right!” He felt about to shake apart, and still dizzy from the crash, but spinning Dasher around like a top was easy enough- and the other jingling spirits were drawn in too. It was a glorious explosion of color, sound, and christmas spirits as one by one they melted each other away into whisps. Finally, only Dasher stood in the snow, puffing furious, cloudy breaths into the air.

“You will pay,” Dasher hissed. “Naughty children. You will not escape your punishment, this I swear to you.”

“Whatever you say, bub,” Ed chirped, and raised his scythe above his head.

“Wait!”

Max and the others turned back to look just in time to watch an arrow streak through the night and imbed itself in Dasher’s forehead. “No, no,” he groaned, watching Isabel’s face light up with glee.

Agent Day and Mr. Spender ran into the clearing, both panting and exhausted. “Thank goodness we found you,” Agent Day breathed, hands on her knees. “We were so worried that you were taken…”

“But I saw Dasher fall from the sky!” Spender’s chest heaved, and he swayed with effort, but he somehow managed to stay upright. “I’m so glad you’re all alright, even Dasher alone is quite the challenge to combat…”

“Nah, we got all of them.” Isabel grinned and punched her palm. “Max was able to yank ‘em around by the bells with his bat, and he got em all to poof each other. It was really easy to hit ‘em when they were all clumped up, too.”

“You- you really beat them all? Where are their tools?!”

“Right here, Mr. Spender!” Isaac called, arms full of a few rocks and sticks. “They’re, uh, not much to look at, but…”

“Amazing! Wonderful job, all of you- these will be great for the club’s stores!”

“But you shouldn’t have snuck out. We were so worried about you, and you’re glad we found you! Your grandfather is worried sick!” Agent Day wrung her hands together, cane stuck in the snow.

“Yes, he’s… not happy,” Spender admitted. “But, surely he’ll be proud when he finds out what you’ve accomplished?”

“Probably not,” Isabel sighed, sticking her hands in her pockets.

“...probably not.” Spender came over to put a hand on her shoulder. “But, for what it’s worth, I am.” Isabel looked up at him, then threw her arms around him. Spender smiled softly and hugged her in return.

“This is great,” Max groaned. “But I’m being crushed by a flippin’ reindeer, so can I get some help?”

Oblivious to Max’s irritation, Dasher continued licking Max’s hair life the reindeer he resembled. “You’re not so bad, I suppose. Resourceful child.”

“It always happens to me.”

“The arrow will at least last the night,” Agent Day said thoughtfully. “It should be safe for you to go home, in that case- you too, I think, Isaac! Since all the others are gone, after all… Maybe Dasher can take you home!”

“Nooooo!”

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, Ms. Day,” Spender said. “You could perhaps take Isaac and Ed back to the dojo, and I can take Isaac back to his home…?”

“Yes sir!” Day smiled. “Merry Christmas, Max, Isaac,” she said. “I hope you get back undetected.”

“Thank you, Ms. Day,” Isaac said. “You too.”

“You guys suck,” Max grumbled.

----

It took a bit for Max to wrangle Dasher into taking him home, but under Day’s spell, the spirit was a fairly easygoing ride. As Max climbed back in through his window to his undisturbed bed, he heard the spirit settle on the roof to keep watch for the sunrise. And, taking comfort in not being discovered and in the knowledge that next year, when he’s a teen, he won’t have to worry about any of this, Max changed back into his pajamas, settled into bed, and slipped into a deep sleep.

[ephemeralstark]

Keep On Fighting In the Meantime

Summary: One decision is all it takes for someone's life to be thrown upside down, and sometimes it's not even a decision they've made.

Or, a drunk driver runs a red light and hits a car containing Peter and Happy. The physical and emotional injuries aren't going to go away easily, but thankfully Mr. Stark is always there for his family.

8.5K | Rated T and up | complete

Read HERE on AO3 or click the read more to view here on tumblr

“Peter are you sure you don’t wanna come?” Ned asked as he shoved a pile of papers into his locker, Peter supressed a flinch as he heard some of them tear from the rough force.

“Nah, Mr. Stark said he had some upgrades for Karen and I want to see if I can get her to understand Gen Z humour,” Peter said, “she keeps trying to call for help whenever I make jokes. Apparently, it’s ‘concerning’.”

“I mean it probably is to the uninitiated.” Ned agreed as he tried to jam his locker shut, the papers sticking out around the edges of the door.

“Y’know, MJ is gonna kill you when she sees the state of those.” Peter told him.

“Yeah, but I told her I don’t have room in my locker to store decathlon prep, this will just prove my point.” Ned said with a shrug.

“Dude.” Peter said, shaking his head at his best friend. “You’re a dead man walking. Like genuinely. You must have a death wish.”

“Maybe if she kills me, I won’t have to go to that 8am practice on Saturday.” Ned said after a moment of quiet deliberation as he looked at his locker.

“Bold of you to assume even death could get you out of practice.” Peter snorted, before glancing at him phone that buzzed with a message. “I gotta go, I don’t want to keep Happy waiting. Have fun going over all the wrong answers with the team.”

“It’s meant to be a team dinner.” Ned said quietly, a distinct whine in his voice. “It’s meant to be fun and relaxing.”

“Sure, and MJ stepped down as the leader.” Peter muttered; his words laced with sarcasm.

Peter laughed at Ned’s despair and made his way out of the back door of the school. He had an agreement with Mr. Stark that he would allow himself to be picked up by Happy so long as he used the most discreet car and parked around the back of the school.

While it would have been nice to rub it in Flash’s face that he really was an intern with Stark Industries, he couldn’t be bothered to deal with the extra attention that would come with people believing his story. His classmates would pretend to be his friend only to get close to Mr. Stark and reap the benefits, the media would jump on the story of the high school intern, and some people – in the depths of the internet - would even begin to theorise that Peter Parker was in fact Spider-Man.

So, yes, Peter decided to give up on trying to convince his classmates that he wasn’t a liar.

The familiar Audi was parked by the yellow curb and Peter could see an irate looking Happy checking his watch in the driver’s seat. He mentally snorted, apparently discreet meant an Audi that was illegally parked. Mr. Stark really didn’t have a clue.

“You’re late.” Happy said as Peter opened the back door and threw his backpack in, sliding in after it.

“Actually, I’m not.” Peter said.

“I was here bang on 5:30.” Happy said. “Practice ended at 5:30 and now it’s 5:40. You’re ten minutes late.”

“You’re insane,” Peter declared happily, “and time is a construct. It doesn’t exist, we made it up as humans to suit our needs.”

“You’re not going to exist if you continue speaking nonsense,” Happy said as he pulled away, the child locks automatically clicking on, “time is a real thing, trust me I’ve had enough arguments with Tony about that, and if you’re late again I’m gonna leave you.”

“Mr. Stark would make you come back and get me if you left.” Peter said, calling Happy’s bluff.

“Don’t I know it.” Happy complained. “He’s going soft thanks to you.”

He didn’t say that like it was a bad thing, in fact, Peter thought he almost sounded happy about that fact, but that was impossible. This was Happy they were talking about. Happy was never happy. He was always the grumpy, stoic figure in the driver’s seat who would make snide remarks and complain about the rudeness of youths these days.

If Peter didn’t care so much for his life, he would have called him a grumpy grandpa.

“Did Mr. Stark tell you what upgrades he’s planned for Karen?” Peter asked.

“84 seconds.” Happy said.

“I’m sorry?”

“You managed to stay quiet for an entire 84 seconds, it’s your personal best.” Happy said. “Do you want to try for 100 seconds?”

“Happy, I-” Peter stammered, “was that? Did you just make a joke?”

“No.” Happy said. “I’m serious.”

“Oh, well in that case I should probably tell you that I lost interest in the ‘who can stay quiet the longest’ game when I was five.” Peter continued.

“So, your poor Aunt has been suffering for the last ten years?” Happy asked. “Poor woman deserves a medal.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” Peter mumbled. That was a point he wouldn’t argue on.

“Hey, Happy?”

“Kid really?” Happy asked. “What could you possible have to ask now?”

“Well, I was thinking ma-”

Peter didn’t get to finish his question.

His Spidey-Sense rang out loud and clear, it screamed ‘danger’ in his mind, and it was ready for the danger to come before Peter had even realised something was wrong – his hands were automatically in the air, waiting for a blow to land.

Peter’s Spidey-Sense had always been a bit of a guessing game, when he was in a dangerous situation it was useful, when he was fighting an armed assailant he knew that it going off would mean that he was at risk of being stabbed or shot and he could move in time. If he was walking in a dark alley, it could mean that there was someone behind him, so he could turn around in time and they’d lose the element of surprise.

But sitting in the back seat of a car? There was no one following, no one with a knife, and Peter knew Happy had a gun but one quick glance at him showed his hands in the typical ten and two position on the steering wheel. Not that Happy would ever shoot him on purpose, not unless Peter was really, really annoying.

Peter saw the danger too late, his Spidey-Sense had warned him but it was pointless because as he looked out the window and saw the truck coming towards them, he realised there was nothing he could do.

The truck hit with a bone-trembling crash, Peter heard Happy take a sharp breath before cursing loudly and slamming his foot on the breaks. He wanted to tell him that it wouldn’t do anything, they’d already been hit.

Metal gave way, crumbling under the force of the truck and shards of glass rained down on Peter as the windows shattered.

Peter watched numbly as his backpack was tossed around on the backseat as the car was forced to the side because of the impact that had been delivered.  

He was pretty sure he was screaming, but he couldn’t focus on anything that was happening, there was too much noise and light and fear and pain.

Peter didn’t even realise he had been knocked out until he woke up, blinking slowly to remove something from his eyes. He was struggling to focus properly, everything seemed to be hazy and the lights were trailing like a glow stick being waved through the air by a child on a dark night.

He guessed that he hadn’t been out for very long as he was still in the car, strapped in to his seat, he could hear people outside walking around – emergency services must not have arrived yet, because they seemed cautious and unsure about how to proceed.

“Should we pull them out?”

“I don’t think you’re meant to move people with head injuries.”

“How do we know they have a head injury?”

“How do we know they don’t?”

“That kid looks in rough shape, he’s bleeding a lot.”

“I think he’s awake.”

Peter groaned, he assumed that he was the kid that they were talking about, was he bleeding? Where? Oh. He looked down and saw a large, twisted piece of metal protruding from his chest, that was where. As soon as Peter saw the metal, he felt the pain, it was burning and all consuming, he wanted to grit his teeth and be strong, but he couldn’t.

At the end of the day he was a kid, a kid with jagged metal sticking into his body and he couldn’t hold in the screams of pain.

He wanted to go home. He wanted his Aunt.

“Ah, Ha- Hap-py?” He asked between grunts and gasps of pain.

No answer.

“Happy, ow, ah, p-p-please, answer me.” Peter pleaded.

He tried his best to focus, to listen for Happy’s heartbeat but his own was pounding too fast to hear anything else past it. There was too much happening, too many people outside, the car was still creaking and groaning, there were sirens in the distance and Peter’s senses were unreliable when he was feeling so frantic and distracted.

He was just like any other person in that moment, he had no enhanced senses to offer him reassurances, he would just have to hope that Happy was alright until someone gave him a reason to believe otherwise.  

“Clear the way, let us through.”

Peter tried to relax a little as he heard the paramedics arrive, they would help Happy, they’d make sure he was alive, they had to, they had to.

“Kid?” Peter hadn’t realised that the car was on its side until he looked up and saw a paramedic peering through the side window which was now on top facing the overcast skies. “We’re going to get you out, alright, just hold tight.”

“N-n-no,” Peter stammered, “not me. H-Happy.”

“Happy?” the paramedic asked in confusion, obviously wondering whether Peter had hit his head during the accident, to be fair, maybe he had. A lot had happened and at some point, he’d lost consciousness.

“D-driver.” Peter tried to elaborate, oh god why couldn’t they just get it? Every word was hurting.

“Alright, Happy is the driver,” the paramedic said, “don’t worry, we have another team here helping him.”

Peter looked to the front to see that they were telling the truth, there was a paramedic leaning through the broken windscreen to check on Happy, how had he missed them? Were his senses really failing him so drastically?

“See, we’re helping him too, now we’re probably going to need to get the fire service to cut you out, but don’t worry they’re already here so it won’t take long, in the mean time I’m going to come down there and see what I can do to help you.”

Peter nodded, letting his eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment as he breathed through a spasm of pain caused by the movement of the car.

“What’s your name?” The paramedic asked.

“Peter.” He whispered, he was so tired, talking felt like too much energy.

“Alright Peter, now I’m coming down alright?”

He couldn’t bring himself to answer. He was so tired.

The exhaustion was heavy, and it seemed to weigh him down, maybe a nap would be the best thing for him, he would only close his eyes for a minute. It would be fine… just a minute. Someone was talking to him, but Peter was too busy falling asleep to care.

-

“Pete? Peter, come on Kiddo,” a familiar voice was determined to rouse Peter from his peaceful slumber, but he was just as determined to stay in the blissful land of sleep, “Peter, come on, wake up. Please.”

Whoever that was, they sure were persistent, it was mildly irritating.

“He frowned,” another voice chipped in, also familiar but Peter still couldn’t place who they were, “did you see that, he definitely frowned!”

“Peter? Can you hear us?”

“He’s moving his lips!”

“Open your eyes, Peter.”

Ugh! Peter complied, hoping that his irritation at being woken up was clear to see. Oh, it was May and Mr. Stark who had been talking, both of them standing over him and staring at him with expectant looks.

What were they waiting for?

“There he is,” May said softly, “you were beginning to worry us, sweetie.”

“Yeah, May over here was panicking like you wouldn’t believe.” Mr. Stark said, with a faint red hue across his cheeks, Peter was sure he could only see that thanks to his Spidey-Senses.

“Mhm,” May hummed, casting an unimpressed look at Mr. Stark, “I was the one panicking.”

“In my defence-”

“You have no defence,” May interrupted.

“I know, but a car accident?” Mr. Stark asked, Peter had the feeling that hadn’t been the first time he’d asked that question.

“A car accident?” Peter asked, trying to filter through hazy memories.

He couldn’t remember it properly, he could remember chatting to Ned and getting into the back of the Audi – Happy had been his usual grumpy self, but after that, everything was hazy and difficult to comprehend.

Happy.

“Wait,” Peter mumbled, interrupting whatever it had been that Mr. Stark was going to say, “is Happy alright?”

“Uh,” May faltered, looking to Mr. Stark for help. Peter’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, since when did May look to him for advice, what was going on?

“Happy was pretty badly hurt,” Mr. Stark said honestly, “he’s in surgery at the moment.”

“Surgery?” Peter asked.

“He’s strong.” Mr. Stark said, trying to reassure him but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and he looked as though he hadn’t slept in a while. They both did.

“How long ago was the accident?” Peter asked.

“A few days, you’ve been in and out of it since then, but you haven’t been able to retain much,” May told him, as she ran a hand through his curls, “the doctors say it’s just because of a bad concussion, and it won’t be permanent.”

“So you’ve told me all of this before?” Peter asked, feeling unnerved.

“Just bits and pieces, this is the longest you’ve managed to keep your eyes open so far.” Mr. Stark said.

“That sounds exhausting,” Peter mumbled, screwing up his nose only to find that there was something shoved up it.

“Don’t pull at that.” May said, gently guiding his hand away, “it’s just something to give you a little extra oxygen and a tube to give you nutrition.”

“Why do I need oxygen?” Peter asked. “I was in a car crash.”

“You were pretty beat up from the accident,” May said calmly, too calmly, she was obviously trying her best not to cause him any worry, “there was a piece of- uh, a piece of metal that stabbed you.”

“Ok,” Peter said, hoping that he appeared calm enough for her to continue, how had he reacted to this in the past? Had he been told about it before? How much of this was actually news to him?  

“It pierced your lung and caused it to collapse,” May said, “they called it, uh, a pneumothorax.”

“Oh.” Peter said.

So… he’d had a collapsed lung, that wasn’t too bad, right? He’d heard about them before, sure, they were dangerous, but he was in the hospital and being cared for, surely that meant he was safe.

“You’re taking this better than last time?” Mr. Stark said, looking pleased with that fact.

“How did I take it last time?” Peter wondered.

“Ugh, there was some panicking, from you and me,” May admitted, “you were convinced that you were suffocating.”

“But,” Peter paused, feeling unsure of himself, “I’m not, right?”

“No, but you did lose a lot of blood, so you’ve had a few transfusions and you should be weaned off the oxygen soon.” May told him.

“It’s weird.” Peter mumbled.

“What is, sweetie?”

“It doesn’t hurt.”

Peter didn’t hear her reply, the sweet call of sleep was too much to resist, he fell into a peaceful slumber with the sound of May and Mr. Stark talking soothingly somewhere in the distance.

-

The next time Peter woke up, he was in darkness. His heart instantly jumped into action as he panicked and forgot where he was, the beeping from the monitor caused a dark mass to move from beside him.

“Hey, calm down, Underoos, it’s just me.” Mr. Stark. “You’re safe, you’re alright, it’s all ok.”

“I’m sorry.” Peter gasped, using the dim lights from some of the machines to focus on Mr. Stark’s face.

“Don’t apologise,” Mr. Stark said, quick to reassure him, “you’re in the hospital.”

“I know.” Peter said. “I remembered this time.”

“Oh, thank god.” Mr. Stark said, falling back against the chair in relief, Peter heard the small exhale of air from the force of hitting the backrest.

“I was just speaking to you and May?” Peter murmured, confused.

“You were, but you’re on some pretty hefty painkillers, Kiddo, you fell asleep for a few hours after that.” Mr. Stark told him.

“I don’t like feeling so tired.”

“It won’t be forever,” Mr. Stark said reassuringly, “in fact, your healing factor is doing amazing things for you right now. You’ll be home before you know it.”

That was right, Peter was Spider-Man, he had a healing factor that had probably saved his life. Happy, though, he didn’t.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter waited for the quiet hum to continue, “how is Happy doing?”

“He’s stable, he’s in the Intensive Care Unit, but they’re optimistic that he’ll be able to step down in the next day or two.” Mr. Stark said.

“Oh,” that was good, not that he was poorly enough to need the ICU, but that he was improving at least, “and May? Where is she?”

“She nipped home about an hour ago to grab a shower and some food, I promised to stay with you until she gets back.”

“Thank you.”

-

The next time Peter woke up, it was light, and the annoying tubing that was blowing dry air up his nostrils was gone. As was Mr. Stark. May had taken his place, curled up on an uncomfortable looking chair, with a book in one hand and a travel cup of coffee in the other – Peter could smell the faint hint of bitterness in the air, she was drinking coffee. That wasn’t like her, May said that coffee normally made her feel jittery.

“May?”

“Oh, sweetie, you’re awake,” she said, tossing her book aside and unfurling her legs so she could rush over to his side.

“This isn’t the hospital?” Peter was sure of that; he couldn’t smell the antiseptic in the air or hear the beeping of thousands of machines anymore.

“No, you’re stable enough that Tony managed to wrangle a transfer to the Med-Bay, although why they had to wait for you to be this stable is beyond me.” May muttered. “You have S.H.I.E.L.D.’s best doctors organising your care, they were looking after you in the hospital too because of your abilities, you could have been moved earlier.”

“I don’t need their best,” Peter mumbled, “I’m doing fine.”

May didn’t confirm or deny his statement, maybe she didn’t want to jinx anything or worry him, “do you want to try eating something?”

“Do they have jello?” Peter asked.

“Do they- of course they have jello, you do realise that this is Tony’s compound, right?” May asked with a teasing smile.

“Fair point,” Peter mumbled, blushing as May helped him sit up in the bed. Was he really so weak that he needed assistance to sit?

Ow.

“Too much?” May asked.

“No, it’s fine,” Peter lied, but he didn’t want her to overreact and lie him back down, he was hungry, “how long has it been since I’ve eaten?”

“A while, but they put that tube in your nose to make sure that you could still get some nutrients, because it just so happens that your metabolism means that you need quite a high intake.” May said. “Imagine my surprise at only hearing about this now.”

Oops.

“I, uh-”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to lecture you while you’re recovering.” May said, waving away his attempts to cover his ass. “Now, sit still, don’t do anything stupid, I’ll be back in a moment with your jello.”

“I never do anything st- well, not intentionally.”

-

“This is a bad idea,” Mr. Stark muttered as he pushed the wheelchair, “like, a really, really bad idea.”

“Shh, if you speak too loudly someone will catch us.” Peter said, scolding his mentor.

It had been two weeks since the accident, two weeks since one of the most difficult experiences of Peter’s life. It was, however, one of the best days Peter had had since the event. He’d been struggling a lot with pain and lethargy, every medical professional had told him that it was perfectly normal, and that he was lucky to have survived, but Peter was growing restless.

He supposed that it made sense to be taking a while to recover when he shouldn’t have made it out alive, but he was Spider-Man, it shouldn’t be taking so long.

He’d wanted to be discharged from the compound, May and Mr. Stark had wanted him to stay in bed, they’d compromised by waiting until May left for work and Mr. Stark smuggled Peter into a wheelchair and promised to take him to visit Happy.

“Maybe someone should catch us.” Mr. Stark muttered.

“I swear, if you’re planning to sabotage us…” Peter let the threat hang in the air.

“You’ll what?” Mr. Stark asked. “Throw your jello at me? Tell on me? Kid, you won’t do anything, and you don’t need to, I’m not sabotaging anything.”

“How is…” Peter paused. “How is Happy?”

“He’s doing well, considering everything,” Mr. Stark said quietly, “he’ll be glad to see you.”

Will he? Peter wondered, it’s my fault he got hurt, I was the one he was picking up from school.

Peter had been told the details of the crash; he knew that it was no fault of Happy’s. A drunk driver had run a red light. It had been that simple and yet, that complicated.

So, logically, there was no blame to be placed on Peter, but then, it was Peter’s fault Happy was in the car; he knew that Mr. Stark would argue with him if he voiced that belief, so he kept quiet, he wasn’t ready for any reassurances, nor did he deserve them.

“Alright, we’re just in here.” Mr. Stark said, as he pushed Peter into a dimly lit room.

Happy had suffered a bleed on the brain thanks to the accident, apparently, he was still getting severe migraines and they were triggered by harsh lights and loud noises.

“He’s sleeping,” Peter whispered, “should we come back later?”

“No.” Mr. Stark hadn’t been the one to answer that.

“Happy?” Peter asked quietly.

“Long time no see, Kid, you’re late.” Happy mumbled, Peter vaguely registered Mr. Stark stepping out to give them a moment.

“Late?” Peter asked, unable to stop the smile from appearing as he grabbed the wheels and pushed himself closer.

“Yeah, I was expecting your annoying face to appear days ago, I never thought I’d get more than 84 seconds of peace.”

“You missed me.” Peter realised.

“Now, don’t go putting words in my mouth,” Happy said, “I most definitely did not say that.”

“You did, you missed me,” Peter repeated, “that’s ok, I missed you too… I was, uh, really worried about you.”

“I was worried about you too, Kiddo, you alright? You don’t look yourself.” Happy said.

“I’m good, much better now than I was.” Peter said.

“Hmm.”

“Happy?” Peter asked, resisting the urge to lean forward and shake the man, “Happy? Uh, Mr. Stark!”

“What? Oh,” Mr. Stark had burst into the room when Peter had called, only to pause and look understandingly at him, “he’s just tired, Pete, he can’t stay awake for very long at the moment. Don’t worry, he’s just sleeping.”

“Oh,” Peter said simply, as he stared at Happy’s prone figure, “will he ever be back to normal?”

“Time will tell,” Mr. Stark said honestly, “the doctors seem optimistic, but they’re sure to let us know it’s a cautious optimism.”

“Can I go back to my room?” Peter asked, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Yeah, of course you can, Underoos.” Mr. Stark said gently, turning the chair to push Peter out the room.

Peter closed his eyes, he could still see Happy lying there, looking so still in the bed, so pale… so-

No.

He was alright, he had sassed Peter, he wouldn’t have done that if he was as bad as he looked. Peter hadn’t realised how much he missed that attitude, how much he missed bickering playfully with Happy.

He missed the older man, the guy who had become such a daily staple in his life. Had he taken his presence for granted? Was that why this had happened? As some sick cosmic way to tell Peter he needed to appreciate those in his life more? Peter didn’t know, maybe there was no reason for any of it to happen, maybe sometimes shitty things just occurred.

Peter knew he should be focusing his questions on the drunk driver – the guy who had managed to walk away with a few lacerations and a broken arm, the man who was at fault had suffered the least. Was Peter a bad person for wishing that guy had been hurt more? Not so much that he had died, but just enough so that he would understand what he’d done to Peter and Happy. Maybe he was, maybe he was too vindictive to be Spider-Man.

“There’s a lot of thinking going on in that head of yours.” Mr. Stark said as he pushed Peter, “care to share?”

Peter shrugged, changing the subject, “this isn’t the way to my room, where are we going?”

“I figured you could see the common area before going back to bed, I stocked that fridge with jello too,” Mr. Stark murmured.

“Oh, I don’t know, I don’t really want to run into the Avengers, not today.” Peter said, feeling guilty for not being excited about Mr. Stark’s kind gesture.

“You won’t, they’re all out on a mission.” Mr. Stark reassured him. “The only person you might bump into is Rhodey, and even then, that’s a slim possibility, he’s meant to be in the gym doing his physiotherapy.”

“Alright then,” Peter said quietly. That wasn’t so bad – he liked Mr. Rhodes, he’d met him a few times and he’d always met Mr. Stark’s chaotic energy with his own deceivingly calm one, they were funny to see together, “as long as there’s lime jello.”

“You’re a really weird kid.” Mr. Stark said.

“So you keep saying.”

“Who even likes lime jello?”

“I do,” Peter said with a pout.

Mr. Stark wheeled him into the common area, it was large and empty – just as promised.

“So,” Mr. Stark said, clicking the breaks on so he could go rootle about in the fridge, “what’s on your mind?”

Peter shrugged, staring at the tabletop until a green pot of jello slid in front of him, followed by a shiny metal spoon.

“Eat up, there’s plenty more where that one came from,” Mr. Stark said, “I’m telling you no one likes lime jello.”

“Well, I do,” Peter mumbled, peeling away the foil lid and crumpling it in a fist, “it’s the best flavour and it’s even better that no one else likes it because then I get it all to myself.”

“Can’t argue with that logic.” Mr, Stark said, taking a seat opposite Peter with his own pot of red Jello – so Mr. Stark was a strawberry guy, that figured.

“What are you trying to do?” Peter asked, narrowing his eyes at his mentor.

“What do you remember from the car accident?” Mr. Stark asked.

“Nothing.” Peter lied.

“Hmm, nope, I’m not buying that,” Mr. Stark said, “you’ve been having nightmares, you keep zoning out, you’re refusing to talk about anything to do with it… you remember.”

“Did May put you up to this?” Peter asked as he slurped jello off the spoon, trying to distract himself from what Mr. Stark was asking about.

Smoke… he could smell smoke all around him, and the sticky odour of engine oil mixing in with something metallic and…oh. Blood. Someone was bleeding, was it him? or Happy? Was Happy even alive? Was Peter?

“-concerned, like me, Underoos,” Peter blinked and tried to focus on Mr. Stark’s words rather than the memories of that afternoon, “we want to help you, we want to do whatever it takes to make you feel better.”

“Mr. Stark, I had a collapsed lung, numerous broken bones, contusions, lacerations, a concussion that caused me to lose days from my memories, and I needed multiple blood transfusions.” Peter said. “I get you guys want to make me feel better, but I almost died, there’s a good chance I would have without my Spider-Man abilities.”

“So, you feel like you shouldn’t be alive?” Mr. Stark asked.

“No…well, kinda, not like I wish I’d died or anything,” Peter was quick to reassure him, “just, if I was meant to die, didn’t I cheat?”

“Cheat?”

“Yeah, like I should be in just as bad shape as Happy is, but because of my abilities I’m sitting in the common area eating jello with you while Happy can barely stay awake for a five minute conversation. It feels unfair, he should be the one sitting here with you.”

“You want to swap places?” Mr. Stark asked, but Peter could tell he didn’t expect an answer. “Kiddo, you can’t think like that.”

“Why not? Don’t you want the same thing?” Peter wondered.

“Of course not!” Mr. Stark’s voice was loud and verging on shouting, it hurt Peter’s still tender brain. “I don’t want either of you to be in Happy’s position, and just because you can heal, doesn’t mean that you aren’t affected by the crash.”

“I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry for shouting, kid, but you’re not, you’re wishing you could swap with Happy.” Mr. Stark said. “You’re wishing for further injuries because you feel some sort of misguided guilt over what happened.”

“It’s not misguided!” Peter snapped, dropping his spoon on the desk with a clatter.

“What do you mean?” Mr. Stark asked gently, too gently, Peter broke.

“Happy should have never been there, I shouldn’t have been ten minutes late, I could have walked or got a bus or a taxi or swung over, I could hav-”

“Woah, woah, woah!” Mr. Stark interrupted. “Slow down, take a deep breath.”

Peter copied Mr. Stark’s exaggerated deep breaths, mimicking the man like he used to as a kid – back when Ben would applaud him for wearing one of his old suit jackets that hung down to Peter’s ankles and tripped him up as he paced back and forth in front of the TV quoting Tony Stark’s clean energy speeches.

“Peter…kiddo…you can’t tell me you think this was your fault?”

“Why not?” Peter asked numbly. “It was.”

“No, it wasn’t, it was George Hendersen’s fault. No one else’s.”

Huh, George Hendersen. It was such a normal name, the kind that a father, brother, son would have. Peter wondered how many people were left confused and pained over his actions? How many members of his family were trying to deal with the knowledge that he had gotten behind the wheel of his car, drunk?

“Why did he do it?” Peter asked, tears falling without his permission.

“Oh, kid,” Mr. Stark said, abandoning his red jello in favour of kneeling beside Peter’s wheelchair, “look at me-” he paused, waiting for Peter to comply, “I don’t know. I wish I did, I really do. I wish I could give you an answer that would make all the pain and fear make sense, but I don’t have anything to tell you.”

“I hate him.” Peter said, the words pouring out without any bite thanks to the sobs that escaped with them. “Is that wrong of me?”

“No,” Mr. Stark said, “hate is a real strong emotion, and my therapist would probably say it’s dangerous to hold onto hate, but personally I hate him too.”

“I wish he hadn’t done it.”

“Me too, kiddo, me too.” Mr. Stark said quietly, before holding his arms open, “come here.”

Peter fell into them easily, breathing in the familiar scent of cologne and grease, Mr. Stark wouldn’t let George Hendersen hurt him or Happy again.

-

“What do you mean he got community service?”

Peter’s head jumped off the pillow with a protesting throb at the shriek that seemed to pierce through his walls and door.

“May, calm down,” Mr. Stark’s voice was quieter, he was trying not to wake Peter, not that it mattered now, “you know I’m going to get Pepper and my best team of lawyers on the case.”

“How the fuck could this happen?” May asked, only a fraction quieter.

“He’s rich, white, and has connections.”

“He nearly killed two innocent people!”

Peter carefully slipped his legs out of bed, toeing on his slippers and inching towards the door.

“He will pay, even if it kills me, I’ll make sure that he pays for what he did to Pete and Hap.”

Peter opened the door, alerting May and Mr. Stark to the fact that he was awake. They cast glances at each other meaningfully before their expressions smoothed out, they were planning to keep it from him.

Did they think that he couldn’t handle this? That he would break down at the thought of his almost murderer walking about normally? His only punishment being that he was losing his free time to help clean the streets of New York or something. Would they even suggest rehab?

“Hey, morning Peter, I thought I’d drop by on my way to work,” May said with her familiar, easy smile.

“Look at you, up on your own!” Mr. Stark said looking proud. “How do you feel?”

“My leg aches a little, where the break was, but otherwise I’m alright,” Peter mumbled, looking between the two of them, come on, come clean and tell me.

“Well, sit yourself down, I’m making breakfast and you can take your painkillers.” Mr. Stark said.

“You’re making breakfast? You?” Peter asked as he hesitantly took a seat at the table.

“Hey!” Mr. Stark protested, flicking some pancake batter Peter’s way. It landed on his nose. “I’ll have you know I’m a great cook. Back when the Avengers were an actual team, me, Cap and Bruce would make huge meals. We could have fed an army; trust me Cap would have known.”

“Do you miss those days?” Peter asked, taking a sip of the glass of milk that was placed in front of him; Mr. Stark didn’t let him drink coffee. Apparently, he had his hands full enough without a caffeinated Spider-Kid sticking to his ceiling, Peter hadn’t mentioned that he had never been on the ceiling in the Compound…at least not that Mr. Stark had seen.

“Sometimes,” Mr. Stark replied with a shrug, “but I prefer these days more.”

May smiled, seemingly understanding whatever Mr. Stark had meant by that.

“You’re weird.” Peter declared, wiping the milk moustache away with the back of pyjama top’s sleeve.

“Peter!” May scolded in exasperation. “There’s a stack of napkins right there.”

“Oh, uh, sorry.”

Peter bluffed his way through breakfast and made his excuses to leave and shower as soon as he thought he would get away with it – too soon and they may have realised that he had been listening to their conversation.

“Hey, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” Peter asked quietly.

“Yes, Peter?”

“Uh, if I asked you to look someone up, would you tell on me?” Peter asked, feeling like a little kid trying to convince an older sibling not to tattle to mom.

“It depends on who you want me to look up and what information you would like to know about them.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said.

“Oh, ok, so theoretically if I asked you to look up someone called George Hendersen, would you tell MR. Stark about that?” Peter asked.

“Yes, George Kieran Hendersen is on the list of people you are not allowed access to, and should you request it I will be forced to send an alert to Mr. Stark’s cell.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. informed him.

“You haven’t though, right?” Peter asked quickly. “I wasn’t asking you to actually do it, I said ‘theoretically’.”

“Correct, the alert has not yet been sent.”

“Great, uh, thanks F.R.I.”

“No problem.”

Peter groaned and shoved his face in his pillow, of course Mr. Stark would put safeguard in place, this was the man who had created the baby monitor and training wheels protocols.

He knew Peter, but… he didn’t know Peter’s friends.

Peter pulled out his phone, typing out a quick text to his best friend:

‘Hey Ned, I need you to do me a favour and look up a George Kieran Hendersen pls’

Send.

Ned was probably at school, but that didn’t stop him from replying in a matter of seconds. Sorry dude, Mr. Stark already said I couldn’t.

Well, fuck…

Peter could have screamed into his pillow.

-

Blood. There was blood everywhere, it was surrounding Peter, preparing to drown him and he couldn’t breathe. He was covered in the thick dark red liquid. It filled every gap and stained everything around him.

He was in the car, the Audi, but it didn’t look like it normally did. The silver paintwork was coated in the sickening red liquid, and the metal frame was twisted and jagged; it looked sharp and ready to bite Peter.

“Happy, we need to stop, this is wrong.” Peter said, from his place in the back seat.

Happy couldn’t hear him.

The glass shattered.

“Happy, we need to stop, something bad is going to happen.” Peter continued.

He still couldn’t hear Peter, he needed to get closer, Peter pushed the button to release his seatbelt but it nothing happened. He jammed his finger against it repeatedly, trying his hardest to free himself from the strangling hold it had on him.

“Happy, please, stop the car, he’s going to hit us.” Peter begged. “Please! Stop! Stop the car! Stop the c-”

“-eter! Peter! Come on kiddo, that’s it, come on,” Mr. Stark’s voice pulled him from the blood filled, twisted car.

“Misser Star’?” Peter slurred in confusion, before the panic brought him back to consciousness faster. “Blood, I’m covered in blood, and I can’t move.”

“There’s no blood kiddo.”

“No blood?” Peter mumbled out the question in confusion, how was that possible? He could feel it, it was everywhere. He was covered in it.

“No blood.” Mr. Stark confirmed. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. can you turn the lights up please?”

Peter blinked against the harsh light but allowed Mr. Stark to pull him up into a sitting position, still leaning heavily against the older man.

“Look, kiddo, no blood.” Mr. Stark confirmed.

He was right. “But it was so real?” Peter marvelled, running a hand over his t-shirt, trying to find traces of the red liquid that he had been so convinced was there.

“Nightmares will do that to you, kiddo.”

“It wasn’t a nightmare.” Peter mumbled.

“No?” Mr. Stark asked, “what would you call it then?”

“I uh, I don’t know,” Peter mumbled. “I’m fine though, I’m completely fine.”

“Come on,” Mr. Stark said, standing up and holding out a hand to pull Peter up off the bed.

“Where are we going?” Peter asked.

“Well, me and Happy were having hot cocoa and I figure you’d benefit from joining us.” Mr. Stark said.

“You guys are having hot cocoa?” Peter asked in confusion.

“He’s still getting migraines and I’m meant to be caffeine free after 6pm.” Mr. Stark said with a shrug.

Happy had been improving, slowly but surely, it had been a month since the accident and Peter was physically all better, but he refused to leave the compound until he knew that Happy was better. Thankfully, Mr. Stark had been able to use his influence to organise online classes for Peter to complete the year and May had understood.

Peter was lucky.

Happy was lucky.

So why wasn’t it good enough? Why was he still faced with the nightmares and the memories? Why did he flinch when a car honked its horn? Why did he wish he had taken Happy’s place? Why did he wish Hendersen could feel the same pain they had felt?

“It’s a bit late for you to be up.” Happy commented as Peter sat opposite him, Peter followed his gaze to the clock – 01:21 – huh, maybe it was a little late.

“One hot cocoa coming right up, peppermint free for the spider.” Mr. Stark announced as he rummaged in the fridge for milk.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Peter lied to Happy.

“Yes, you could,” Happy corrected, “you just couldn’t forget.”

“Can you?” Peter asked.

Maybe 1am was the time to be honest, maybe when the safety of daylight was gone, the night-time allowed them to be vulnerable with each other.

“No.” Happy said gruffly. “Honestly, I can’t forget any of it, and I’ll never stop feeling sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Peter asked, frowning to himself.

“For not stopping in time.” Happy said.

“The light was green; you were right to go.” Peter said, staring at Mr. Stark’s back as he did so, he couldn’t meet Happy’s gaze. He couldn’t look him in the eye while knowing that he was the reason that the accident had happened.

“I saw the truck coming.” Happy said. “I just couldn’t do anything in time, I couldn’t stop quick enough or swerve out of the way. I could have killed you kid, because I couldn’t do anything other than panic.”

“Happy…” Peter paused, trying to work through everything that he’d just heard. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard you say, and you told me you hate froyo.”

“Yeah, me and Hap have been trying to work through his misguided guilt over the accident.” Mr. stark said, placing a mug in front of Peter.

“It’s not misguided.”

“You’re right, it’s completely unwarranted.” Mr. Stark said.

Wait. What?

“Happy, no,” Peter interrupted, “you don’t need to feel guilty, none of this was your fault. It was mine. I should have been on time after Decathlon practice, I should have been ten minutes earlier and then we wouldn’t have been at that intersection at the same time as Hendersen, I should have gotten to the tower some other way. You are Mr. Stark’s head of security; you shouldn’t be chasing me around the city or chauffeuring me back and forth between here and Queens.”

“Kid, Happy is the only one I would trust with you.” Mr. Stark said. “Both of you need to get off your self-sacrificial high horses and accept that the only person who should be taking any blame for this is the guy who decided to drive whilst drunk.”

“Tony told me you were trying to look him up.” Happy said quietly.

Peter’s gaze shot to Mr. Stark who was purposefully looking at the countertop, he knew? Why hadn’t he said anything?

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. you’re a traitor.” Peter mumbled.

“I did not tell Mr. Stark about your theoretical enquiry.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. informed him.

“You didn’t?”

“No, she didn’t, it was Ned.” Mr. Stark said.

“Ned?” Peter asked, betrayed by his own best friend.

“Yeah, he’s worried about you, you’ve been dodging his calls, ignoring his texts and then you randomly messaged him asking him to trace the person who hit you and Happy.” Mr. Stark said. “I think he’s pretty right to be worried.”

“I’m fine.” Peter said.

“No, you’re not.” Mr. Stark interrupted.

“I am.”

“You’re not,” Happy said, “and I know, because I’m not either.”

“You- you’re not?” Peter asked.

“Not at all, Kiddo.”

-

Two long, difficult months had passed since the accident. Peter was doing fine, he really was, despite what Happy and Mr. Stark said. He was going out as Spider-Man for a couple of hours each evening, he was meeting his friends once or twice a week and he was planning to ask MJ on a date.

He was fine.

Sure, he was still having nightmares, he refused to get in a car, and he would freak out at the sight of blood – which in retrospect made being Spider-Man slightly more difficult, but he was doing fine.

He didn’t really understand why he was still having so many ‘problems’.

He was alive.

He should be grateful for that; he knew that Happy was. Happy was even driving around the Compound, he wasn’t quite at the point where he could drive the streets of New York, but he was certainly doing well within private grounds.

May had brought up the subject of him moving back into the apartment a few times, and Peter wanted to, he really did, but every time he ventured into the city there were cars everywhere. They were loud, their tyres would screech, and horns would blare. Even though Peter wasn’t in them, he was scared.

He knew he was worrying everyone.

He was worrying himself.

“Peter, this isn’t your normal patrol area.” Karen said, interrupting Peter’s thoughts.

“I know, K, I just have something to do here,” Peter mumbled, as he scaled a building, eyes fixed on the balcony that he remembered from his computer screen, “it won’t take long.”

“Would you like me to alert Mr. Stark to your detour?”

“What? No! why would I want that?” Peter asked, irritation staining his tone. Why was everyone so ready to snitch on him?

“Just in case back up was required.” Karen said. “But your wishes have been noted.”

“Thanks, I promise, we’ll be back to our normal patrols soon.”

By normal – peter did not mean normal at all – he meant a short patrol in a low traffic area of town. He wasn’t ready to handle car accidents and hijackings just yet. Soon, but not right now.

The door to the balcony was slightly open, obviously the man inside hadn’t expected anyone to climb up to the seventh floor, after all, why would he?

“No, no, no, Jennifer, stop, think about this.” A man pleaded, he sounded so normal.

“I can’t do this anymore George,” Jennifer said, “I just can’t, you don’t even have any remorse.”

“I have plenty of remorse!” George shouted. Peter flinched. “I’m not allowed to drive anymore, my job laid me off, you and the kids have been so distant lately and that fucker, Stark, is still coming for me.”

“They’re all consequences.” Jennifer said. “That’s not remorse for your actions.”

“What more do you want?”

“I want you to look fucking sorry, that kid you hit? Stark’s intern? He’s the same age as your daughter.”

“I know that!”

“Why don’t you care?”

“He’s fine, he’s got Stark’s money, he won’t even care at this point.”

“This is about money?”

“No, it’s about you being a fucking judgemental bitch when you’ve made mistakes.” George shouted.

“Yeah, my biggest one was marrying you!”

SLAM

Huh, maybe Hendersen wasn’t as happy as Peter had thought, but still, he wasn’t as guilty as he’d hoped. He didn’t even seem to care that he was drunk driving, he only cared that he had been caught.

“Hey, Karen?” Peter whispered.

“I’m here.”

“Can you tell Mr. Stark that I’ll be home early tonight?” Peter asked.

“Sure thing.”

Peter had meant to confront Hendersen, to shout at him and tell him how much his actions had hurt Peter and his family, but now it seemed pointless. If Hendersen’s wife wasn’t getting through to him, why would he care what Peter had to say? Why would he care that Peter was still traumatised and scared? He wouldn’t.

Peter had heard the cocky edge to his voice, he knew that nothing he said would break through. It was pointless.

But peter wanted to be better.

Thwip

Thwip

He wanted to be the old Peter, the one who had carelessly thrown his backpack in the car and jumped in behind it. The one who knew accidents happened but never thought that any would happen to him.

Nobody ever does, Peter thought bitterly, as he ran out of trees to swing from and resorted to trudging the last few miles to the Compound.

“Hey, Pete,” a metallic voice said from beside him causing him to jump nearly a mile out of his skin, why hadn’t he heard him approach? Was he that off his game?

“Mr. Stark.”

“Karen said you’d be early.” Mr. Stark said, the suit retracting so he could walk beside Peter.

“Yeah, I told her to.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Mr. Stark asked.

Did he?

Not really.

Yes.

“I went to Hendersen’s apartment.” Peter admitted. He heard Mr. Stark’s sharp inhale, but was grateful that he wasn’t interrupting, instead he was letting Peter talk. “I know I shouldn’t have. It was stupid.”

Peter pulled his mask off, he was on the Compound grounds, there wouldn’t be anyone going about to see him.

“It was.” Mr. Stark agreed.

“I didn’t speak to him.” Peter said. “I just stood outside; he was arguing with his wife.”

He has a wife, and kids, he’s such an ordinary man.

“Did it help?”

“No.” Peter said simply. “I want to hate him. I wanted to talk to him and make him hurt as much as I did, but then I heard him talking to his wife and I don’t know anymore. I don’t think that any amount of talking would help. He was a bad guy.”

“It’s not fair.” Mr. Stark said.

“I don’t know what I wanted.” Peter admitted. “I guess I’m just fed up of feeling like this.”

“Scared?”

“Always.” Peter mumbled. “It was a car accident, people have them all the time, why can’t I just get over it?”

“because you’re a kid, and it was scary and it’s not something you’re going to be able to forget about quickly.” Mr. Stark said.

“I should be stronger.”

“You’re plenty strong.” Mr. Stark said. “You’re the strongest kid I know, in fact you’re stronger than most adults.”

“But-”

“No buts on this on, Underoos.” Mr. Stark said.

“Aren’t I making your life harder by being here though?”

“Not in the slightest, I love having you here, just ask Pepper and May.” Mr. Stark said. “I’d keep you if I could.”

“I’d stay if I could.” Peter admitted. “I’m scared to go back to May’s.”

“Have you thought anymore on my offer of therapy?” Mr. Stark asked.

“I have…” Peter said, hesitating, he didn’t want to take Mr. Stark’s money, but… “I think I want to go for it.”

“I’ll support you every step of the way, Kiddo.” Mr. Stark promised.

“I know.” Peter said. “I heard something else at Hendersen’s… he said you were going after him?”

“Damn right I am,” Mr. Stark said, ruffling Peter’s hair, “he hurt one of my closest friends and my kid.”

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

👄 with nikki? (sorry i always send asks for her).

(oh my god don't be sorry she's my baby!!!)

ooh boy Nikki clearly spends too much time around Tony 😂

Tony: Uncle Tony, Tin Can, Uncle Dad

Steve: Dad, Popsicle, Captain Dad, Papa, Daddy, Pops

Rhodey: Uncle Rhodey, Uncle Platypus (“I’m going to kill you, Tones)

Pepper: Aunt Pepper, Boss Lady, “the smartest person in every room”

Fury: Grandpa

Happy: Uncle Happy, Happy (she coined the name for him), Uncle Grumpy

Natasha: Aunt Nat

Clint: Uncle Clint, Uncle Legolas, Uncle Bird

Thor: Uncle Thor, Sparky

Bruce: Uncle Bruce, Uncle Hulk (she actually calls the Hulk that lmao), Mr. Green

Peter: Pete, Spidey, babe, Wonder-Boy, Arachnakid (but technically this is what Lady Liberty calls Spiderman), Currently Doing That

Harley: Harls, Wonder-Boy, Tennessee, Asshole (affectionate), Eagle 2

Harry: Har, Rich Bitch, Sugar Daddy, Wonder-Boy, It Happened Once In A Dream

Ned: “literally the greatest thing to ever happen to anyone ever”, Neddie

MJ: MJ, Chelle, queen/queen of my heart

Sam: Uncle Sam (sometimes this is soft, sometimes it’s an uncle sam joke), Bird Uncle #2, Cap

Bucky: Uncle Bucky, Uncle James, Uncle Wolf-Man

Send me a 👄 + an OC and I’ll tell you all the nicknames they have for canon characters

[lyssismagical]

with every heartbeat i have left, i'll defend your every breath

Febuwhump  Day 5 & 6 - Intruder & Fire

Read on AO3

Peter hadn’t been patrolling as often as he used to, ever since their baby was born. It was more important for him to be at home with his family. The risk he was taking was too great, now that he had a baby.

He knew what it was like to grow up fatherless. He had father-figures with Ben and then Tony, but his biological dad died when he was so young. He grew up without his dad. He knew how much that can affect a child firsthand. That was the last thing he wanted for his baby.

Plus, he just loves the domesticity of nights at home with his fiancée and child. There was something so beautiful about dinners together and bed times and movie nights. It was so peaceful and wonderful, and he always hated going out just in case his baby woke up in the middle of the night.

Even the thought of getting hurt made him shudder. He’s already put so much stress on May and Tony, MJ and Ned, from the nights spent out as a hero. They don’t want to lose him, and he can’t lose them either.

But occasionally, he can’t help himself.

The nagging feeling that somebody would be getting hurt and he’s not there to protect them constantly hangs onto his mind, sneaks into his lungs and plants itself as guilt.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to MJ’s forehead.

She smiles sleepily, nodding. “Go do your thing, Spider-Man.”

“I love you.”

“Be safe. I love you too.”

He swings out the window, reveling in the feeling of wind whipping past his head and the sounds of the city, alive even in the dead of night.

“Karen?” he says. “Make sure the Baby Monitor 2.0 is hooked up to my screen and working, and then find me the nearest crime.”

“Baby Monitor 2.0 is up and running,” she responds, just as kindly as ever. The little picture in the bottom of his screen shows his baby with a sound wave that stays flat.

He hooked the baby monitor in their baby’s room up to his suit. He can make sure to head home as soon as he sees a spike in the noise.

“There’s a robbery occurring three blocks away from here, a car theft seven blocks away, and a mugging nearby.”

Peter can’t help but smile at the feeling of finally being out, helping, for the first time in months. And with the flat baby monitor wave, he doesn’t have the lingering guilt of leaving his kid at home.

* That is, until, MJ calls him.

“Hey! What’s up? Isn’t a little late to be-”

“I think there’s someone in the house.”

Peter freezes up, world spinning around him as he focuses on MJ’s whispered words.

“What?”

MJ sniffles quietly, and speaks even lower. “I think I hear someone in the kitchen. If it’s not you, I don’t know who’s here. The doors were locked when we came up to bed. The only people with keys are us, Ned, Tony, and May. Tony and May are in Canada, chaperoning Morgan’s trip, and Ned just went to Australia for work.”

Peter hurries to hit the guy across from him, probably too hard with the way he falls to the ground like a stone. He doesn’t have the time to care, though, already swinging towards their home as fast as he can.

“I need- Is- Is June safe?” Peter asks, desperation coloring his voice. His hands are shaking and he’s pretty sure he’s hurt, but he doesn’t have the time to care.

His fiancée and baby are home with an intruder. And Peter’s across the city.

“She’s in her room,” MJ whispers, obviously trying not to be heard by whoever’s in the house. “Maybe they saw Spider-Man out and- and knew to come here.”

Peter’s hands are trembling so badly that he almost misses the next web he throws. “Fuck, I’m coming as fast as I can. Just- just stay safe, okay? Please. I- I’ll be there soon, I promise.”

His fiancée hums in agreement, but it sounds like she’s crying or trying not to. And Peter hates it. He hates that he’s not there, that he left in the first place.

“I’m on my way, my love, I’ll be there. I’ll protect you and June as soon as I can.”

Their house is finally in sight. Only one light is on, the bathroom light which Peter must’ve left on earlier, but there’s no sign of anybody on the main floor.

“I’m here, I’m here, everything’s going to be okay,” Peter reassures, but MJ stays quiet, the only indication of life is her even breaths.

Peter gets to the front door just as fire explodes through the whole main floor of the house.

For a moment, all Peter can do is watch as the windows explode outwards, shattering glass in his direction, and Peter fumbles away from the heat as the windows of the door shatter.

The little screen with June’s face suddenly lights up, the sound waves jumping.

“Peter?” MJ shouts. “I can’t- I can’t get to June. Please- You have to- I can’t get her.”

It jolts Peter into action, swinging forward into the flames.

Almost immediately, the heat swelters around him, fires licking up every piece of furniture and wall in the house, even the stairs are catching fire.

“Gasoline,” he says, just as the smell hits him. “Fuck, I’m coming, sweetheart, just stay right where you are. I’m coming to get you.”

He fumbles for the stairs, heat searing his legs and arms, eyes watering even as his mask filters out the majority of the smoke rising around him.

Vision blurring, all he can see is fire, he stumbles up the stairs, uncaring of the flames that curl around his feet. All he knows is that he needs to get June and MJ to safety. The intruder, the fire, everything comes after them.

June is standing in her crib, clinging onto the bars to keep herself steady.

“Daddy!” she wails, one little hand reaching for him. Smoke is already pouring into the room as he stumbles in. He can feel blood on his leg, some injury from earlier in the night, and it makes his movements even weaker and uncoordinated.

She’s wearing her little Iron Man onesie, a gift from her grandpa, but she’s coughing as the smoke reaches her.

“MJ, I’m giving the mask to June. Try to keep her talking to you. I’ll come to get you next,” Peter says. He waits for the little okay before he tugs off his mask.

His baby, the little angel, the light of his life, is crying, hands clenching and unclenching, reaching out for him.

He slips the mask onto her head, hoping it’ll help filter as much air as possible to keep her breathing clean air. And then he scoops her into his arms, tucking her against his chest.

“Hey, baby, Daddy’s got you. I’ll keep you safe,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to her hand that he holds.

Lungs burning, eyes watering, knees weak, he pushes forward to the master bedroom. He just has to hope the intruder, whoever started the fire, knows better than to stick around.

MJ’s sitting on the edge of their bed, phone cradled against her ear.

“Peter,” she breathes, standing quickly. She’s got a shirt, one of his shirts, pressed to her mouth as some sort of makeshift filter as well. He doesn’t know how much it’s helping, but he just has to get them out of here.

He passes June over to her, pressing kisses to both of their foreheads, and then he heads for the window.

Shattering upon impact when he shoves a shoulder to it, the smoke starts billowing out of the room as fast as it came in.

But the ground is shaking and there are flames curling under the door, and he has to get them out of here before it’s too late.

Keeping June cradled between them, MJ hangs onto his side and he wraps one arm tightly around her waist before swinging out the window just as the floor crumbles underneath them.

They land on the grass, Peter taking the majority of the force, but they’re out. They’re safe.

“Karen, send a message to Mister Stark about what happened,” Peter instructs. “MJ, take June and get her to the hospital. I’ll meet you there.”

“Peter, you can’t go back in there!” MJ exclaims, tears falling down her face. “It’s dangerous!”

He shakes his head. “I have to find who did this. Who tried to hurt you and our baby. Please, make sure you’re okay and I’ll meet you at the hospital.”

Leaning up to his fiancée, he kisses her gently, and then he presses a kiss to June’s knuckles.

“I love you.”

And then he takes off.

The whole house is crumbling when he pushes his way inside. As an afterthought, he realizes he definitely should’ve taken his mask back from June, but it’s too late now, so he pushes past the burning in his lungs.

“Where are you?” he shouts, shoving away fallen debris to get to the kitchen.

He’s not exactly sure what his plan is. Whether he wants to kill whoever set the fire for almost hurting his fiancée and baby, or if he wants to find the intruder to make sure they make it out of here without dying.

Either way, he knows he needs to get to the intruder.

“Hello?” he calls out, squinting through the smoke and flames towards the living room.

The last time he remembers a fire this bad was way back when he was a stupid kid in a onesie fighting Toomes on the beach. There had been so much fire and he remembers his chest hurting for days afterwards.

Now, he’s just a stupid kid in a high-tech suit. Well, he’s not a kid anymore. He’s twenty-four, he has a child of his own. But he doesn’t feel like more than a scared little kid as he pushes his way further into the burning building.

“Please! I’m just trying to help!” he shouts louder. The ceiling is creaking above him, all he can see is fire. He’s pretty sure he’s bleeding and burned. “Hello?”

And then he sees the body under the dining room table, a bottle of empty gasoline discarded next to him.

Peter stumbles as fast as he can on his aching legs towards the man, body trembling as he coughs and coughs and coughs, unable to draw in a real breath.

His spidey-sense is ringing almost painfully, hair on the back of his neck standing in anticipation.

He’s run out of time.

He surges forward once again, throwing all of his energy into making it to the man. As soon as he reaches the intruder, he grabs him under the arms and legs and throws him as hard as he can at the back door.

The glass shatters and the man flies through the air before landing with a quiet groan of pain in the safety of the grass.

And then the roof above Peter collapses inward.

* When Peter comes to, it’s to the sound of a soft voice.

“And the itsy bitsy spider climbed up the spout again.”

He blinks his eyes open, hands fumbling for his oxygen mask as soon as he can remember how to use his muscles.

Tony’s hands immediately cover his, pulling them away from his face.

“Hush, Spider-Baby, that’s helping you,” he murmurs, adjusting the mask again.

June is curled up in Tony’s lap, fast asleep against his chest. A stack of children’s books sit on the nightstand. MJ and Morgan are passed out on the couch pushed to the corner of the room. May and Pepper’s voices are muffled through the wall.

Peter reaches for his oxygen mask again, pushing it up just a little bit. “She okay?”

A soft expression passing over his face, Tony nods. “She’s just fine and so is Michelle. They’ve just been worried sick about you. I got to the house just as the roof came down on top of you.”

Peter hums, letting the mask fall snuggly against his face again. He looks up at Tony curiously.

“I was worried sick about you,” Tony continues quietly. “I thought- I didn’t know if I was going to get you out of there fast enough. But I did and you’re okay now, kiddo.”

Guilt strikes Peter deeply, making him shiver. He pushes himself up into a sitting position despite Tony’s protests, and he pushes his oxygen mask off.

“How do you do it?” he asks, feeling small and young. Like he felt after he woke up in the hospital after Toomes and the warehouse disaster. “How do you hang up the suit?”

Tony looks at him for a long moment like Peter’s an equation Tony’s trying to solve.

Eventually, he speaks, voice low. “Do you want to hang up the superhero gig?”

Peter knows the answer before he has to think about it. “No. I’ve realized it’s not my responsibility to save everyone. But helping people? It’s what I’m good at. I just- I can’t stop thinking about Ben and, you know, with great power comes great responsibility-”

“Except it’s not your responsibility.”

“I know, but I can’t stop thinking about it. Like- Like all those fathers who would’ve never gotten their daughters home, and all the husbands who never got to see their wives again, when I could’ve stopped it. I just- I don’t think I could stop. Not yet, at least.”

Tony offers a gentle smile. “It’s personal now, isn’t it?”

Peter looks down at June, curled up in Tony’s lap. So young, so innocent to the horrors of the world.

“I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to her. I don’t want anyone to go through that if I can help it.”

Tony tenderly lifts Peter’s chin with calloused fingers. “You’re too good, you know that?”

Flushing bashfully, Peter ducks away from the compliment. “Maybe I just had some good role models growing up… I just- I need better protection for them. I can’t have them in danger.”

“I’ll handle it. What kind of eccentric grandfather would I be if I didn’t go all out on crazy overprotections? Actually, I don’t think I ever told you, but I bought back the tower after Toomes all those years ago. You guys can live there. I don’t know any safer place they could be than at the Tower.”

“Thank you,” Peter murmurs. He takes June’s hand, gently pressing a kiss to her fingers. “I know you’ve got my back and I’ve got theirs. We’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, we’ll be okay.”

Tony situates the oxygen mask over Peter’s face once again, and pushes him against the pillows.

Peter falls asleep, the last of his anxiety finally silenced.

They’ll be okay.