#being a hero to 8 year old me and keeping my word. i will not be one of those adults

[goatmilksoda]

People talk about "children" as if they weren't one. I don't get it. Do people feel different as they grow up? Do their personalities fundamentally change and evolve in a way that isn't simply informed by gained knowledge and experience? Do they change internally and not just in a way that reflects the expectations put on them by society?

4 year old me and 18 year old me are the same person. I have memories of then, and many of them, are still choices I would make if I were in those same situations now. My thought process that I can recall, would be mostly the same now as it was then.

It feels like how the world sees me and what's expected of me has changed more than me and I dont understand why.

Like do most people lose the urge to climb things? To play on playgrounds? To make up Imaginary Friends? Do they suddenly decide not to enjoy media like it's consuming them? To have romantic relationships that somehow follow invisible rules of courting that no one can read?

[anki-of-beleriand]

A Heart Made of Glass ch.16

Summary: Ten years ago you left Wanda and the Avengers to heal your broken heart. You never stopped being a hero, just as you never stopped being in love with her. But life had to go on.

Now, after all that time, she is back and with her is a young woman needing help and an enemy that may not be as afraid as Wanda to lay a claim on you.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Powered!F!Reader - Scarlet Witch x PoweredF!Reader - Past Wanda Maximoff x Vision - CarolxF!Reader

Warnings: Angst, drama, mentions of cheating, fluff, violence, smut, Switch!Reader, internalize homophobia, hurt, comfort, Wanda being a complete mess, anger management issues, jealousy, Requited/Unrequited love, idiots in love, swearing, mentions of alcohol. More tags as the story progess.

Author's Note: This story is a continuation of Dirty Little Secret I was really surprised at the response I got for the story, I did all the tags you guys ask for but if I forgot someone please do not hesitate to tell me. Thank you for the support.

The end is near, Reader and Wanda finally had some common ground to work with and now the only thing left is a happily ever after.

Please, do remember English is no my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Epilogue

Chapter 16

A leap of Faith, a simple request

The first meeting in Nepal would be the first meeting of a series of visits Y/N did for over four months.

Wanda had been confused at first, though she found herself pleasantly surprised to find you in her lodge every morning sharing a good story or a training session. Sometimes, the both of you would reach the closest camp in which you would see many alpinists and hikers, all of them getting ready for a summit on Mount Everest or K2. Wanda didn’t dare to press over the sudden relationship she had been building with you, she was happy to receive your words and your caress, to see your smile or feel your lips on hers whenever the mood struck.

Every weekend had become a highly expected moment in her life, Wanda prepared everything to welcome you while also trying to get the courage to have a serious conversation with you. Would you finally stay more than a couple of days? Would you want to stay with her? What exactly was happening between the both of you?

There were many questions that still haunted Wanda, but she had not dare to voice them in fear of breaking the relationship she had with you. So, she opted to keep quiet while enjoying the moments the both of you shared until she was ready to face the reality of her emotions and give the last step towards you.

For more than four months you two had been sharing a relationship through the distance, and Wanda knew she had sworn to fight for you and not let go, and whatever fears or insecurities that had built in her should be put aside in favour of that leap of faith. Wanda had been nervous, but she arranged everything to be ready for your visit and, this time around Wanda was ready to ask you to stay or take her with you.

But, just as she got ready to clear things up within the both of you, just as she got ready to leave herself expose and at your mercy…you didn’t show up.

At first she thought it was normal, your life was still happening right in the outside world and you had been quite busy at your work back in Norway while also with your mission as hero. Wanda checked her phone and her email, but you didn’t send a message and after two days of waiting for you she knew you wouldn’t come that weekend.

Disappointment came rushing inside her mind, she waited for an explanation but nothing came and soon her disappointment transformed in sadness and the old doubts and fears drown her thoughts until she just tried to focus on her routine waiting for you to come the next weekend with an explanation.

The explanation never came and you didn’t show on that weekend.

And then, you didn’t show the next one, or the one after that.

Wanda tried to rationalize the situation, she tried to convince herself that you were busy or perhaps in a highly secretive mission but so far she had not received any news or any big going on in the outside world. It was as if you had vanished, and with you, any form of contacting you. Your phone didn’t work, and there was no way for her to get into contact with Natasha; for a moment Wanda thought about America but then she thought herself desperate and while she was dying to know what happened to you, a little voice inside her head told her perhaps, you grew bored of her and decided to simply not continue her visits any more.

As easily as you had begun this routine, you had decided to cut it over.

This was just a single thought of the many that came rushing inside her mind day after day, Wanda found herself busying herself with different activities inside the compound, she gave herself to the training and to the distractions while finding odd jobs in the temple and the small towns surrounding Kamar-Taj.

It worked, for a little while.

But there was nothing much one would do to quiet down the doubts and growing anxiety inside the heart. Wanda wanted to be angry at you, she wanted to be furious at your sudden dismissal of her, at your silence and sudden disappearance; but she couldn’t. Instead of that, she was just sad, and found herself trying to ignore her emotions while trying to get control of her life.

For over a month, Wanda tried to forget about you.

And while Winter was approaching, and she stood at the edge of a cliff overseen the beautiful landscape surrounding the Himalayas she tried to get a hold of her thoughts and her emotions. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but not a single thought came through her mind, the only thing she could do was feel and that was enough for the time being.

Wanda sensed the approaching presence of someone powerful, she didn’t need to pounder too much to know who was coming her way. With a quick gesture, she tried to wipe away the tears on her cheeks.

“You are quite difficult to locate when you decided to hide away, aren’t you, Wanda?”

Wanda tensed turning to the left, her green eyes gleaming with unshed tears furrowing her brows. Stephen was dressed in his fighting attire, he looked tired and a little dishevelled but otherwise untouched; the older man waved away the unasked question.

“Rough night, nothing important but I mess up and ended up with a house falling on top of me.” He offered a sheepish smile; Wanda raised a brow pressing her lips to hold back her smile.

“Right, what brings you here, Stephen?” Wanda finally asked tilting her head to focus her stare to the mountains. “I was trying to get some alone time, and I just…I don’t think I am a good company at the moment.”

Stephen nodded understanding the hint but ignoring it altogether, Wanda rolled her eyes not wanting to have any type of conversation with anyone. She scoffed when the man stood beside her, his hand reaching inside his pocket producing a single envelope. Wanda frowned tilting her head to the man who was trying really hard to keep his expression neutral.

“I understand, but I think I come here with news and perhaps to alleviate the turmoil you had been experimenting as of late.” The knowing glance he shot Wanda told the young with Stephen knew about her recent heartbreak.

She crossed her arms rolling her eyes while also getting a spark of curiosity, she squinted her eyes when Stephen waved away a single envelope, this time around he lost his smile and was showing a more serious façade.

“My mission took me to Florence, it was a last minute request by Stark and I decided to do so if only to shut the man up.” Stephen said talking a step closer to Wanda. “I met with some people there, and I was told to give you this.”

Now, Stephen had Wanda’s full attention, she grabbed the letter scrunching up her nose turning it around until her eyes fell on the familiar handwriting.

“This is…” Wanda trailed off, her frown deepening while the anger she had ignored up until then came back and she closed it almost throwing it away.

“She was hurt during a mission.” Stephen said before Wanda could speak or do something else, “It was supposed to be a routine safe and rescue mission but they found some troubles, she tried to play the hero role and got badly hurt.”

“She got hurt…” Wanda opened the letter missing the sympathetic glance Stephen sent her way.

“Nobody knew about her visits to you, Wanda.” Strange explained, “They found out as soon as she woke up and started asking for you, I think that may explain her absence as of late.”

“Hn, I didn’t even notice.” Wanda mumbled reading the letter you had tried to write to her, Stephen hid his snort behind a cough.

“Right, so you haven’t been mopping around and…”

“I wasn’t mopping!” Wanda exclaimed, her magic igniting in her hands while her cheeks coloured red. “I just…I was…I…”

“I know.” Stephen said nodding to the letter, “Tony sent a jet for you, it will be there until tomorrow morning, a car is waiting for you as well. Don’t be late.”

Wanda watched as Stephen turned around walking away, she played with her lips before calling out to the older man.

“Are you…I mean, late I’ve been…” Wanda sighed frustrated turning to Stephen. “I’m still trying to find myself, to do right and to get a hold of my emotions, are you sure I should go?”

“Wanda, you have been mopping around because you missed her,” Stephen cocked his head to the side, his eyes finding those of Wanda, “take the word of a man that lost everything for not being brave enough, Wanda, go after her and keep fighting for what you want, talk to her and don’t let any misunderstanding or lack of communication get in the way.”

With those last words, Stephen turned around and left.

Wanda stood there feeling the cold wind hitting her face, she grabbed the letter and went back to the words you had written for her. The explanations and the invitation to go to you, to stand beside you, to be a part of your life.

Wanda wrapped her arms around herself, she lowered her gaze and in a single moment of decision she went back to her cabin to get her things.

It was about time she stopped running from the things she wanted and start running after them.

The Amerigo Vespucci Airport was the second busiest airport in the Tuscany, located in the city of Florence it stood as a welcoming bacon to international travellers into a city that breath Renaissance, culture and history. The private section of the airport was a safe heaven for those who wanted to go incognito to the city, and Wanda soon found herself being attended as the jet landed in the city.

She glanced around while the customs and border protection agent came forth to speak with the pilot. She grabbed her backpack tightly, her eyes glancing around the place before they fell on a dark car waiting silently at the other end of the hangar. The officer spoke in broken English pointing at her then at the passport before nodding and giving back the document.

“It seems we are cleared, ma’am, the driver will take you to the agreed location.” The pilot said giving her the papers back before pointing to the car.

“Thank you.” Wanda offered a nervous smile before making her way to the car, once inside the driver merely gave a warm welcome before driving down the empty streets of the airport to the closest entrance.

Once they left the airport Wanda could enjoy the magnificent look that the city was offering her. She could see the Tuscan Cypress decorating the highway while the people drove without a care in the world. This kind of scenes always brought memories to Wanda, she couldn’t help but remembered being on the run without a chance of enjoying the places they visited or having a chance to actually have friends, go out, have a nice dinner.

Her world had been changing so much, she sometimes forgot there was another world right outside waiting to be discovered. Wanda smiled observing the busy streets with people coming in and out of work, the students enjoying the afternoon sun while running or walking around not a single tourist was on sight which told Wanda this was a part of the city reserved for the Italians living in the city.

She wondered if you were aware of her visit, if perhaps you had planned all of this just to get her out of the coldness that was Nepal into the warm that was the region of Tuscany at the moment. But so far she had not received a single call, and no body had come for her to the airport. She played with the idea of calling Tony but decided against it, if the man wanted to contact her he would have done so as soon as she entered the plane; a part of Wanda knew why they had kept silence, they were waiting to see how the story would end.

Wanda couldn’t blame them, she was also waiting patiently to see how her story with you would end.

Soon they left the busy streets to enter a more residential section of the city, Wanda watched as they went up the terrain with less people walking around and many houses protected by high fences and beautiful trees. She felt her heartbeat that tad bit faster, her hand sweating lightly while the tingles in her lower abdomen intensified.

The car turned around a corner and soon she found herself watching full properties, all guarded by wooden gates and walls protecting their inhabitants. She wondered just what kind of place where you located at, when the man turned one last time going up a hill until he reached a gate standing tall protected by a stoned arch and cypress sneaking out of a stoned wall. The man lowered the window while showing an ID to the gate’s security system, soon there was a small bell and the doors opened right in front of them.

Wanda could hardly wait to see you, she was glancing out of the window while playing with the words inside her head. The car stopped at the main gate, and Wanda couldn’t help but gasp.

“Wanda!” America came running wrapping her arms around the young woman who couldn’t help the shock from showing on her face.

“America?” Wanda returned the hug, stepping aside America gave her a weak smile.

“I missed you, you know?”

“I missed you too.” Wanda shrugged lightly, “I’m sorry I just…”

“I know, Y/N told me some things so…I get it.” America bounced on her feet running to where the bags were left. “But now, you’re here so I can forgive you for that.”

Wanda chuckled grabbing one of her bags and going with America inside the house.

The place was enormous, with two living rooms and a single dining room leading to the backyard and the pool Wanda could understand why they chose such location. America was talking non-stop, she told Wanda about school and the life in Norway; for Natasha and Yelena had been important that America learnt the basics while also learnt about her powers so whenever they had any easy mission America went with them.

“But this one, well it went out of control and…”

“Where is she?” Wanda finally asked when they reached the second floor.

America winced tilting her head, “she is asleep, pain medicine really takes a toll out of her.”

Wanda furrowed her brows; she glanced around trying to guess which one was your room but her eyes found those of America who was shooting her a sympathetic smile.

“Don’t worry, she will be up in no time.”

“I just…” Wanda brushed some hairs out of her face, “I just found out, after a month of not having any new from her I just…”

America pressed her lips together, after a moment of hesitation she pointed to the left to a long corridor leading to a single wooden door. Wanda hesitated for a moment but before she could move America placed a hand on her arm, her eyes twinkled strangely while she put on her best serious face.

“I’m glad to see you here, Wands, and I know you and Y/N had been seeing one another for some time,” Wanda could tell that in the last couple of months America had changed, no longer was she looking tired or scared, if anything she was looking more mature and relaxed, responsible as she grabbed the bags and stepped back.

“I really want for you guys to be happy, perhaps this could be your chance, you know?”

Wanda smiled nodding, “I know.”

“Good then, go before Natasha and Yelena get here, they get really overprotective of Y/N when she is in that state.” America turned around leaving Wanda alone.

With a sigh and wiggling hands, Wanda made her way to your room.

The place was covered in different shades of blue, the balcony faced the pool and the backyard, and the fresh wind of the afternoon was sneaking inside the room mixing the smell of flowers and nature inside your room. Wanda softened her features when her eyes fell on your sleeping form.

You were on your side, deeply asleep with your hand right above your face and one leg placed carefully on a pillow. It was protected by a cast, and your face and head were covered with bandages. You really were hurt, and soon Wanda realized all around the room there were medical implements to help out during the healing process.

With a knot on her throat, Wanda approached your bed her trembling fingers caressing your cheek while the tears blurred her vision for a moment. All this time, she should have looked for you, perhaps insist to try and see what happened instead of letting her own insecurities and her own fears to cloud her judgement.

“What took you so long?” Wanda almost fell down from the bed when you spoke, you offered a lazy smile your eyes fluttering opened.

“Y/N!”

“Wanda!” Your voice was hoarse, wincing as you turn on your back.

“You were awake?” Wanda asked with reproach in her voice.

You tried to sit down, it was taking some effort until Wanda came right in to help you out. Her arms wrapped around you, and she was close enough to feel your warmness against hers. You offered a smile shrugging.

“I was just resting not sleeping, thank you.” You rested your back on the wall, taking a good look at Wanda who decided to sit on the bed.

“You…” Wanda started finding the words strangled in her throat and her eyes filling up with tears.

“Hey, I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you about this.” You started grabbing her hand in yours, your thumb drawing circles on the back of her hand.

“It’s okay, I…” Wanda trailed off, she didn’t want to sound foolish by telling you the million questions that came to her mind.

She was not ready to share with you her inadequacy and her self-doubt. You nodded lightly, softening your features while squeezing her hand tenderly.

“I should have said something, but I just…I wanted you for myself.” You said softly, trying to clear your throat.

Wanda leaned to the closest bedside table where a single glass of water was resting, you took the glass grateful before continuing.

“I didn’t want anyone saying anything at all, I just…”

“I get it, I know what you mean…” Wanda hesitated before lifting her hand to brush away some strands of hair, she leaned in her lips parting slightly. “Y/N…”

You lifted your hand cupping her cheek in your palm, leaning in closing the distance by brushing your lips against hers. The kiss was soft, a simple gesture of reassurance for you and her, it last but a few seconds but it was enough to leave Wanda trembling and you with a racing heart.

“I missed you, Little Witch.” You mumbled pecking her lips, Wanda smiled nuzzling her face on your neck.

“I missed you too.”

Wanda leaned back, glancing out of the window before returning her eyes to you.

“I thought you didn’t want to continue with your visits.” She finally revealed looking away from you. “I thought I messed it up all over again, and I just…Y/N, what are we doing? What does it mean this? I just…”

You could see the conflicting emotions in her green eyes, how confused she was about what had happened in the last couple of months in which, once more, your relationship with her had shifted. You made yourself that questions moments before the mission, you had been standing by Yelena’s side when you realized how deeply in love you were with Wanda, how your feelings for her were the same they had shifted and they had matured and at the moment they were more intense.

You weren’t the only one thinking that, or even experimenting it. Seeing the anguish in Wanda’s face told you she was just as deeply sensitive with the whole situation as you were.

“Walk with me?” You asked tenderly, Wanda furrowed her brows before nodding.

“Yes, sure I…” She stood up watching as you signalled the far wall where a single crutch was resting.

“You need help? I mean there is only one.”

“Yeah, I didn’t break the leg per se, but I did some serious damage to the muscle and the joint, so walking is difficult.” You explained standing up with her help and that of the crutch.

“So, you are at my mercy?” Wanda asked wiggling her brows, you raised a single eyebrow shooting a daring glance.

“You want to try that theory out?” The blush that form on Wanda’s face was beyond adorable and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Good, perhaps later we could see if I am or not at your mercy.”

“I know that I am at yours.” Wanda finally said walking past you and opening the door for you to come out of the room.

Your heart jumped happily, your smile growing at the sight of Wanda there with you once more. With a chuckled you limped engaging Wanda in a conversation about the mission that had left you out of commission for a while.

__________________

“When did she get here?” Yelena glanced out of the window of the kitchen, she squinted her eyes following you and Wanda as the both of you strolled through the yard.

“Uhm, around three?” America put the spoon on the gelato Yelena brought for her, “I think so, she came here in one of Tony’s cars.”

“Of course it was Stark.” Yelena huffed turning around, she lifted a hand pointing an accusing finger at America, “and you let her in!”

America rolled her eyes, she knew Yelena tended to be highly protective of Y/N but as of late her arguments against Wanda had worn thin and she was just trying to get a hold of what was really happening and how everything would end, Much like everyone in the life of Y/N and Wanda.

“Please, you and I both know they have been seeing one another for more than two months, nobody thought of telling Wanda about the mission and she was really affected by this.” America rested her cheek on her hand, her eyes on Yelena.

“What?” Yelena grabbed her own gelato shaking her head.

“Do you think they will go back to being together?”

Yelena leaned back against the counter, she thought about the things that had happened in the past. She had been there, and she had heard the story and the wounds, but after they learnt the full story and went through so much, forgiveness was not a crazy thought. You had been so happy as of late, singing and laughing, being a different kind of person and Yelena knew she owed it to Wanda coming back and wanting to be a part of your life.

“I think it is a possibility, but this time around if something were to go wrong…” Yelena left in the air the possibility of negative consequences, America tilted her head thoughtful.

“I think this time around could be different, and I think that’s the reason why they had been dancing around one another, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s just that if this time around everything goes well, they have seen how their lives could turn out to be. The twins, and the house and the married life, everything would be possible and happiness would be there.” America shrugged, “I just thing sometimes we are more open to the negative outcome instead of the positive one because we are afraid of getting hurt or getting lost in the feeling.”

“You don’t have a right to sound so wise,” Yelena scoffed shaking her head, America smirked.

“I learnt from the best.”

“Oh, thank you…”

“I mean, Natasha…”

“Brat.” Yelena threw a paper towel that America grabbed in the air, she was about to throw it again when a heavy hand rested on her shoulder.

“Children, please.” Natasha gave her sister a glance before turning to America, “what are you two discussing about?”

“Y/N and Wanda.”

Natasha lifted a brow, her eyes following the stare of Yelena until she found Wanda and Y/N standing in the far corner of the yard.

“When did Wanda get here?”

“This afternoon.” America explained, Natasha softened her features as she watched your smile and the easy conversation growing between the both of you.

“I guess that’s good, right?” Natasha ruffled America’s hair winking at Yelena who chuckled at the gesture.

“I guess, what do you think?” Yelena gauged Natasha’s face, she was waiting for a signal that revealed the real thoughts of Natasha but the woman was a tomb.

“I think we need to make more food, and you two have a mission tomorrow so no staying up late watching silly movies.”

“You know I am a highly functional adult and that I can go to bed whenever I want?”

“I think you are an adult, but the functional part is up for debate.” Natasha replied chuckling at the offended expression in Yelena’s face.

America laughed ignoring the mocking glare from Yelena.

“I am a trained assassin, you know, I can…”

“I’m just going to say two words,” America smirked in triumph lifting her hand and lifting a finger when she said those two words, “Kate Bishop.”

Yelena opened her mouth and then closed it again, her cheeks coloured red with her hands wiggling to try and make a point that was lost when Natasha came closer to her to close her mouth by putting two fingers under her chin.

“She got you there, sis.”

America laughed standing up before running away from the kitchen, Yelena screaming in Russian while going after her. Natasha shook her head taking a sip from the glass of juice she just poured for her. The day was getting old, the sun was already gone and the sky was changing into a darker version of blue, yet even with the drop of temperature and the sudden changed you and Wanda were still outside.

Natasha sighed.

Peace was so odd at times, but it was for moments like this that she lived for. With a final glance she turned around and went the living room her voice reaching out the two kids that were laughing and screaming on the second floor.

“America! Yelena! You have to prepare dinner!!”

You welcome the change in atmosphere from the confines of your room.

In the last couple of days, Natasha had done nothing more than babying you under the medical recommendations. It had been a necessary evil considering you were out of commission for over two weeks. Wanda listened carefully to your story, with each word her heart shrank making the very fibre of her emotions trembled under the possibility of you not surviving such an incident.

“It was really confusing at first, I woke up with everything hurting and in a hospital with Natasha and Yelena all over me,” you stopped walking turning to Wanda, your hand seeking out hers feeling the softness of her palm against yours, “I remembered right away that you probably were asking where I was and why I haven’t called at all.”

Wanda stiffened her eyes drifting away though her hand tightened lightly around yours.

“I just thought you would be busy, I knew you have your job and the occasional missions.” Wanda tried to downplay the turmoil she went through when you didn’t show on that first weekend, then the second one, and then the third one.

She was not ready to admit to you that she had been lost, and that the old insecurities came back to push her to the edge of feeling alone and not enough. You tilted your head taking a closer look to the young woman standing in front of you, observing how her lips tensed and her eyes refused to look at you directly; the way she kept a hold of your hand and the sudden softening of her voice told you all you needed to know at the moment.

“You know I would never walk away from you without telling you first, Wands.” You winced moving from one foot to the crutch on your right hand. “I never told anyone I was going over to Nepal to visit you because I didn’t want them snooping around in my things, I wanted this to be ours.”

There afternoon sun was fading away slowly, and the wind of the Tuscany region enveloped both of you in a warm embrace. Wanda lifted her free hand only to let it fall again, her eyes flickering to your face then to your lips and finally to your joined hands.

“I know.” She finally stated though her voice trembled, lacking the conviction your were looking for.

“Are you still doubting what is happening here, Wands?” You asked stepping a little closer, Wanda offered a weak smile shrugging.

“What is happening, Y/N? I’m still…You have come and go for over five months, and we have talked and we have shared amazing moments and still I am not sure as to where I stand eith you.” Wanda didn’t want to be so honest all of a sudden, she wasn’t looking to actually be honest and broke with such a tirade but the trip and the lack of sleep coupled with her worries about her own situation brought this over.

Your eyes dropped alongside your smile, your hand never let go of that of Wanda but you did tried to take a step closer. Wanda didn’t fight, instead she also came closer trying to get a hold of you to see if the questions she had would be answered.

“I thought everything had been clear, but I guess we never did talk about it clearly, did we?”

“Not really.” Wanda mumbled lifting her hand towards her hair, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t bring this over and…”

Wanda trailed off completely, her body stiffening when you leaned forward placing a peck at the corner of her lips. She could feel the heavy stare of someone watching them from the house, while you came at her without any shame or hesitation.

“I think I told you before, the same way you have told me, Wands. I don’t want this to be over without at least giving it a try.” You squeezed her hand offering a half smile, “I guess I wasn’t clear enough so, let me set the record straight and ensure there are no more doubts in you.”

Wanda opened her mouth to ask what exactly you mean by that, but at that moment the both of you heard Natasha calling out to you.

“Y/N!! Your medication! Now!”

You winced turning to see Natasha standing by the threshold, her hands on her hips and a knowing glare shot your way. Under that stare you understood Natasha had a second intention for the call out, you snorted turning to Wanda who had a glint of disappointment in her green eyes, you chuckled winking at her.

“Don’t worry, Little Witch, tomorrow we will have the house for ourselves and we can continue with this conversation.” You then nodded towards the house, “now let’s go, I really am feeling the pain kicking in and perhaps taking the medication won’t be as bad with you at my side.”

Wanda offered a half smile, her helped you out before taking a deep breath and speaking closer to your ear.

“You want me to play nurse?”

You almost fell down on your face, turning to the mischievous smirk she was now wearing. You chuckled nodding.

“I would like that very much, Little Witch, but Nats would probably kill you if we get sidetracked.”

Wanda snorted though whatever tension she had worn moments ago soon dissipated; she opened her mouth then closed again until she just shrugged turning to you.

“Well, we always have tomorrow, right? You did say we will have the house all for ourselves.”

Now, that comment hit you straight in your mind and core, and you couldn’t help but laugh while trying to cover up your flustered cheeks. Wanda sighed in relief, her doubts quieted down by your reassurance and the welcoming committee she had from your part, seeing you again had made her happy and Wanda soon realized there was no place on earth she would rather be as long as she was by your side.

Wanda just needed to let her last doubts aside to take a leap of faith and confessed this to you. There was nothing more she wanted that be yours for as long as you wanted her, and for you to be hers for as long as you allowed her to have you.

______________

You limped around the kitchen grabbing cups and bowls from the cabinets placing them carefully on the counter.

The music coming from your phone filled the silence in the kitchen, coffee was the very first thing you always prepared before anything else and the strong smell of the coffee was soon filling out the room. You limped to the fridge glancing around until you found the milk and the orange juice, putting them out you went to grab some of the strawberries almost falling on your face.

“You really love putting yourself in harm’s way, don’t you?” You chuckled feeling the arm around your waist making sure you were not hitting the floor, Wanda was smiling down at you helping you up on your feet.

“What can I say? I was just waiting for a cute hero to come and rescue me?” Wanda rolled her eyes but never lost her smile you grabbed the strawberries and then close the door.

“What were you doing?” Wanda finally asked looking around the kitchen then at you.

“Breakfast?” You tried limping towards the coffee maker, “I just thought I will make breakfast and then we can go into the city.”

Wanda tapped on the counter playfully, her smile just growing with her eyes following your every move.

“The city? You have plans for today?” Wanda leaned forward excitedly; you lifted your face blinking confusedly at Wanda.

“We have plans, Wands. You and Me.” You replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, Wanda tilted her head with her heart missing a beat at the sight of your grin.

“I…let me help you, I think it would be faster.” Wanda winked at you going to help with the fruit and the cereal.

You watched her out of the corner of your eyes, a shiver of pure pleasure and contentment went through your body and settled on your lower abdomen your heart twisting painfully your chest. You knew the moment you made the decision to go after Wanda that everything could turn out with the both of you, love had always been there but sometimes people needed more than love to build up a relationship.

The last couple of months you and Wanda had done just that, build a relationship that went beyond the initial passion and juvenile love you felt for one another. You chuckled when she put the bowl filled with cereal, milk and strawberries right in front of you before putting a chair closer so you could accommodate.

“I was supposed to be working on this and served you breakfast, you know?” You were about to stand up and go for your coffee but Wanda winked at you placing a mug filled with coffee.

“Black, two spoonful of sugars and, of course, enough coffee to kill you instead of waking you up.”

“Damn, you’re the best.” You were about to say something else but Wanda was faster than you and soon her lips when on yours giving you a soft kiss before stepping away. “Wha-what was that?”

“I like my breakfast with a kiss from you, I was getting use to it I just thought…” Wanda was losing her confidence as she started talking but whatever else she was going to say you took the chance to cut it out by another kiss.

“Shall we eat and then hit the road?” You asked putting a strand of hair behind Wanda’s ear.

“Yeah, yeah that sounds… nice.”

Ten years ago their relationship had been different.

It was filled with passion, sex was something you knew pretty well and took advantage of as a way to escape reality, a tool used for missions or in your leisure time. For Wanda it had been the first-time experimenting emotions and pleasure she had been forbidden to practice or to even think about during the war consuming her country. Your conversations had been everything, music and movies, books and hobbies, it had been an immature relationship that had meant the world to you.

Wanda taught you about being in love.

Your broken heart had bled for a very long time, not really understanding why after everything the both of you had shared it ended up with Wanda looking for comfort and love in another’s arms. With time, you understood why, and while you didn’t have to like the answer it was something you were trying to make peace with.

Now, ten years and some months later you stood right before the very same woman you had fallen in love within your teen years. Whatever love you held for her changed, and instead of diminished with time it slept until your paths crossed again and it grew into something different.

This time around your conversations were different and while passion was still present, it was not about the physical connection.

You found Wanda’s eyes across the room, her facial features completely relaxed wearing a soft smile while listening to the explanation done by the guide. You were sitting down on a bench brough specially for you, the discomfort on your leg had started almost ten minutes ago but you didn’t want to leave the city just yet, not when it was pretty obvious Wanda was happy.

“Where next?” Wanda asked slightly giddy, her eyes sweeping around the Piazza della Signoria admiring the architecture and the sculptures and the fountain of Neptuno.

It was a warm day, with sweet breeze and streets filled with people running around the busy streets of Florence’s downtown. The weather had been kind of warm accompanied by a sweet breeze that made it easier to walk around, the conversation was directed to meaningless subjects that brought laughter to Wanda with your heart missing a bet whenever you glance into her green eyes.

“Well, there is another place I want to show you but it is not the right time yet,” you watched at the time before turning to Wanda.

“Which place?”

“Oh, it is a surprised, Little Witch.” You winked at her taking her hand in yours, Wanda fixed her position so as to not bother the crutch and your leg.

“Okay, so far I have liked the surprises you have given me, so wherever you want to take me I’m all in.”

“Good then, next stop would be the Gardens Boboli.” You declared limping slowly towards the closest street leading to Ponte Vecchio and the Palazzo.

It was the moment the both of you stepped into the garden that you realized how well you knew Wanda.

She was completely stunned by the sight, her mouth hanged open and her eyes gleamed amazed by the architecture of the place. You smiled behind her, your heart skipping a beat under the charm of her smile and her stare. Wanda was standing right beside you forgetting about her doubts and her fears, and letting herself go enjoying the moments she had always dreamt to share with you.

You enjoyed taking her to new places, you heard her stories about being on the run while being completely lost and sometimes confined to a room or a place without the opportunity to enjoy the world out there. You always thought it was kind of sad, to be so afraid of what would happen to you if you showed yourself the way you were to not really enjoy what the world had to offer. One of the things you enjoyed the most was the expression on her face whenever you told her a new story or showed her a new place, it was a world of pure discovery and it told you exactly what you wanted and with whom you wanted to be with.

After eight hours of just walking and talking, spending most of the morning getting to visit the most important places in the historical Florence, you started feeling the pain in your leg and body. You concealed your pain taking deep breaths while limping heavily down the streets, Wanda stood by your side completely aware of your discomfort.

“Y/N, please I know you wanted to show me this place but…I mean, it can wait, you don’t look well.” She stood right before you, her free hand cupping your cheek with concern.

You winced trying to offer a smile but coming out with a grimace.

“I know, I know it’s just this is the best part.” You pouted letting out a huff while nodding to the hill that was just a few meters away.

“What can be so important that you’re risking this pain in your leg?” Wanda finally asked cleaning up some of the sweat in your forehead.

“You.” The answer came before you could stop it, but there was only honesty in your words.

Wanda stopped her movements locking her eyes with your, she felt her cheek colouring red while her lips curved into a tiny smile.

“You’re such a sweet talker.” She softened her tone, though the small frown of concern never left her features.

“Is it working?” You asked, Wanda snorted looking away.

“You know it is.” She finally said wrapping her arm around your waist and making sure to give you the much needed it support to hold your body.

“Good then, help me out and then I will do whatever you want.” You winked at Wanda who could merely rolled her eyes at your words.

“I will hold you to that.”

You chuckled holding back any exclamation of pain while walking the last few meters to the top.

“This, my dear Wanda is Piazza Michelangelo.” You presented the place with a flourish of your hand, your grin grew when you realized Wanda had been surprised by the sight.

She didn’t let go of your hand while stepping closer to the balcony, her head turned to you then back again before she caught sight of your grimace.

“This is beautiful.” She mumbled taking you to one of the steps overseeing the city.

“So, was it worth it?” You let go a breathy whimper, intertwining your hand with hers.

“It is worthy mostly because I’m with you.” Wanda confessed resting her head on your shoulder. “But I don’t think it will be enough to justify the pain you are going through at the moment.”

You snorted but said nothing else, for what seemed like hours the both of you sat in silence observing the buildings and the landscape that was Florence. The magnificence of the Duomo governing a city that had been the birthplace of the rebirth of mankind. You closed your eyes allowing the warm on Wanda’s hand to bring comfort to your heart.

“Yesterday you were questioning our relationship as of late.” You broke the silence, never taking your eyes from the city.

“I was just confused, and a little angry for not having heard from you in a while, Y/N.” Wanda started trying to explain her emotions. “These last months had been like a dream come true for me, I never thought I would be close to you again, or that we could be like this.”

“You never thought I would forgive you.” You stated, Wanda shook her head unable to answer to your words.

“I never thought I could forgive you, Wanda.” This time around Wanda lifted her head turning to face you, her hands on yours. “last year I finally understood many things about you and about me. I even got to understand our relationship and what exactly had happened to the both of us.”

The sound of muffled conversations filled the silence in between, you could see people laughing while enjoying their time together in such a place. The sun was starting to face, but the day was still far from over: to your left Wanda sat facing both the city and yourself, and you had to wonder if perhaps you were doing the right thing.

“When I started our visits I did so without any specific expectations,” you continued furrowing your brow, trying to have the conversation of your life with such a pain was not an easy task. “I thought it would be good for you and me to see where this really was going and if it was worth it.”

“And, is it?” Wanda inquired rather frightened by your answer.

You turned to her, your lips curving into a smile and your eyes gleaming with deep emotion.

“It is worth it, Wanda. I don’t want you to be alone anymore, and I don’t want to be away from you either.” You stated putting your hand in your pocket, Wanda held her breath when you pulled out a small box from it.

“What…” She remembered the box she opened all those months ago in which she discovered the plans you had made for your future with her. She was trembling by then, her heart almost leaving her chest and a horde of wild butterflies fluttering their winds inside her abdomen.

“It is not what you think it is, not yet anyway.” You lifted your free hand before opening lightly, inside was resting a single necklace made of white gold and a single Tourmaline stone matching Wanda’s eye.

“Why…I mean, what…” Wanda trailed off not really knowing what to say, you shrugged making sure you were putting it on her, your lips right beside her ear.

“With this necklace, Wanda, I want to promise myself to you.” Your whispered sent a shiver down her back, you sighed staying still gathering your strength to continue. “I don’t want to repeat the mistakes of the past, and I want to believe that second chances mean a new chapter in our lives. So, please accept this as an offering for you to be with me and, this time around, let’s just see where it gets us.”

You found yourself being hugged by her, your eyes were wide open and your arms stood rigid at your sides. You could feel the wetness on your neck, the sign of her tears and the soft whimpers leaving her lips while she poured her answer in the embrace. After a while, your own arms moved to return it, closing your eyes while enjoying the closeness of the woman you had fallen in love with all those years ago and had not stopped loving ever since.

When Wanda leaned back, you could see those green eyes twinkling with the same love she had always showed you, the same one that had changed over the years but instead of diminished had transformed itself and had mature enough to love and let herself be loved.

“I love you.” Wanda whispered those words without any fear of rejection, she finally let go of what she had been holding all this time, all the pain, and the suffering had broken and now all that stood before her was a future you were proposing. “I just love you, I can’t imagine anybody else by my side, I just can hope this time around I don’t disappoint you, or hut you, I don’t want to I…”

“Hey, that’s fine, one step at a time, okay?” Wanda nodded holding your hand, at that moment a sharp electrifying pain went through your leg and abdomen making you gasp clenching your eyes closed.

You had been trying to hide the fat your leg had been killing you for quite some time, the position you were in had not been ideal and after a while the pain became far too much. You hated this only broke the moment you were living with Wanda, the young witch was on top of you right away checking over your leg and your body with a concern look.

“What is it? Does it hurt too bad?”

“It’s nothing.” You grumbled clenching your fists, Wanda dropped her stare frowning at you.

“You look in pain,” Wanda grabbed your hand stepping closer to you while crunching up her nose, she was examining you. “You have been walking all day, of course you’re not okay.”

You tried to wave away her concern, trying to stand up only for your legs to feel weak all of a sudden. She was right on you to hold you up.

“I think I can… ugh…” You sat down closing your eyes for a moment, Wanda knelt beside you brushing your hair and cupping your cheeks.

“I think it is enough, I can carry you and we can go to the car,” Wanda checked you over trying to remember how far away from the parking lot the both of you were.

“N-no, that won’t be necessary, we still have a lot to visit and…” You tried to stand up but Wanda put a hand on your shoulder shaking her head.

“Don’t be stubborn, I can see it hurt you.” Wanda cupped your face in her hands, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Let me help you, please?”

She grabbed your hand in hers, her eyes pleading to you to stop your stubbornness. You closed one eye, the other one falling on the gemstone she was now wearing. With a grumbled, you nodded accepting her help.

“Okay, we can go home…I don’t have energy to take us there, but I can take us to the car.”

“Are you sure? I think I can help you out and we can make our way over there.” Wanda continued brushing your hair away and wiping your forehead.

“Yeah, it is close enough for me, and I don’t think I can actually walk.” You replied sheepishly, Wanda rolled her eyes already knowing you would act the tough act until you really felt helpless.

With a flicker of your hand and her help, the both of you crossed the shadows until you ended up right in front of the car. After that, the ride home was done in relatively silence, your pain increasing as the time passed by. Wanda couldn’t help but sent worried glances your way, her hand on yours trying to calm you down by distracting you with stories or questions you were ready to answer.

The Villa was still empty, Natasha had gone into the city on some sort of mission, and Yelena and America had left earlier without giving any sort of explanation. You grabbed Wanda tightly, almost falling on your face when another jolt of electricity went through your body.

“Sorry.” You mumbled; Wanda shook her head making sure you rest comfortably on your bed. “We were having a good moment, and I really wanted it to be more romantic, the sort of moment in which I will clear up your doubts but…”

Wanda sat facing you, her hands making quick work on your shirt and pants, her fingertips moving delicately with the frown still in place. You grabbed her hand in yours kissing her before helping her out in the process of getting you into more comfortable clothes.

“You don’t have to be sorry for that, I enjoyed our time together and we still have time for a conversation.” Wanda replied making sure you were quite comfortable on the bed.

“I don’t want you to think I left because I preferred the mission, or because I didn’t want to be anymore, you know?” You were breathing hard by then, the injury on your leg had been bad enough to let you feel useless while having one of those attacks.

“I know.”

“I was enjoying our little meetings; I think we never got a chance to do what we did on them.” This time around you smiled feeling the softness of a cotton towel on your face, fresh water touched your lips and you welcome the beverage while also trying to swallow the pills Wanda placed on your hand.

“I enjoyed them as well, I was afraid you have grown tired of me, that perhaps you had finally gotten what you wanted it before leaving.” Wanda confessed finally sitting down at your side, her hand on yours.

You shook your head putting her hand to your lips, the heavy doses of the pills alongside with the tiredness of the day was catching up with you.

“Thank you for coming here, and for not turning me away, Little Witch.”

Wanda softened lightly she leaning in placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Don’t mention it, Love, I’m here.” The endearing term slipped her lips without noticing, you gave her a quick stare before smiling. “Let me give you the last pill and then I leave you to rest.”

You frowned shaking your head grabbing her hand, “no, please just…”

“Y/N you need to take the medication,” Wanda started but you cut it off shaking your head.

“No, I mean, don’t go.” You took a deep breath, your voice coming on short gasps, “Stay with me, please? I want to be with you.”

Wanda felt the warm on her cheeks, she broke into a timid smile that didn’t go away walking around your room grabbing the last of the pills before placing it on your tongue. You drank more water shifting slightly to leave an open space for the other woman.

With some hesitation, Wanda took her shoes off and her jeans, she grabbed a pair of shorts and then went right in with you on the bed. Wanda stayed still her back resting on the pillows chewing on her lips until you snuggled closer to her.

“You don’t have to be so tense; you know?” You closed your eyes, a playful smile on your lips. “I am not in the right physical state to offer you some interesting games to help you relax but I am not against them if it helps.”

“Y/N! I thought you were sleepy?” Wanda shifted her body to welcoming you in her arms, you chuckled observing her red cheeks and dilated pupils.

“I am but you were just so tense, let me just rest for a while and I promise you later on I will bite if that’s what you need.”

Wanda rolled her eyes finding adorable your chuckled and your expression just as you started falling asleep. She let her fingertips caress your head, while she too close her eyes.

This was all that she needed it.

This was all the comfort she was seeking out.

A day ago, she had been mad, but most of all, she had been heartbroken believing herself a fool for ever thinking you could forgive her past sins. Or for even entertained the idea you would want her back in your life, now she was just lying there with you in her arms, fast asleep and a necklace that sealed a promise between the both of you.

With a whispered, ‘I love you’, from her part Wanda too fall asleep with the same content smile you were wearing in your sleep.

_____________________________________________________________

Next Chapter: Reader and Wanda have some fun together, Natasha comes with news and Yelena and America had started a new secret group everyone knows about but they like the ilussion of secrecy. Reader and Wanda have stop running and as time passes they finally take one last step towards happiness.

[rinbylin]

top 5 dihua moments

HELLO ohhh goddd if i really really really have to pick... I'LL TRY (in tears)

in chronological order of the episodes:

(1) “你这个人最大的弱点就是喜欢当英雄。一个剑客不该有弱点。” your greatest weakness is that you like being a hero. a swordsman should be without weaknesses. (ep 1)

i'm as in love with the entire donghai scene as much as the next person but this dialogue is particularly special to me. so it was the first one i pinned down for this list. no hesitation. :)

it's a cornerstone of dihua's relationship; the thesis of lxy/llh's and their joint narrative. it prompts the deconstruction of the staple wuxia ideas of 侠 xia and heroism - which is what i really love lhl for. and dfs being the one to deliver this incredibly crucial and significant line is 10/10. he knew lxy even better than lxy did. he is the bearer and catalyst of lhl's story, lxy/llh's story.

"your greatest weakness is that you like being a hero. a swordsman should be without weaknesses." so what does it even mean to be a hero. is it more important to be a hero than being human. and i will become human. i am human and always have been. and i have weaknesses - i cannot win against fate, i am dying. but what ever is even wrong with being weak? being human is to have weaknesses. so i guess it's no wonder for the narrative to come in a full circle with dfs coming in possession of a weakness and be trapped in it. no longer the killer of di fortress. he's just a human being.

and llh bringing this up again in ep 11 feels to me that he had been carrying these words with him over the past 10 years. bicha and the battle have transformed him physically. but i like to think that dfs's words had an important role to play in an even deeper level of change.

all it took was this one scene to sell to me that this would probably be the kind of narrative i love.

(2) reunion in the woods (ep 8)

it's just so fucking good like literally every dihua scene. who doesn't love a good post-divorce first meeting scene. there's just a lot to chew on. most of all, llh just had to keep reminding dfs how well he knew dfs. we know the moon has always been this bright, alright. AND they were threatening each other. very sexy of them.

(3) whatever the heck was going between them in cailianzhuang arc (ep 11)

truly nothing brings out old married couple + parents vibes better than an inquisitive boy accusing you two of being up to something secretive behind his back. both their guilty expressions. :3 also dfs being the first person huahua goes to when he doesn't want to be alone. huahua being exceptionally chatty around dfs and dfs has no problem entertaining him. :3 they're totally on the same wavelength without having to say anything to each other and this arc brings it out so well.

(4) 腊月二十七 donghai anniversary wedding night (ep 38)

this is the last one i came up for the list after fighting a whole war in my mind over which 5 of the 100000 beloved scenes to pick. hate being predictable but. you just HAVE to give it to it. how do you NOT pick this for a top 5. all the 10 million other top 5 dihua scenes just had to make space for the anniversary scene. :'(

if i had to be even more specific, i think the scene of them in bed most likely takes the cake for me. llh literally saved dfs's life and helped him to become the stronger person he has always wanted to be. and perhaps no other moment exhibits the complementary yin and yang nature of their powers/energies in a more illustrative and palpable way. undershirts in bed just hits different from being fully clothed and one person literally having to keep the other person alive by touch...and this time it's llh for dfs despite the whole time it's dfs who was dedicated to keep llh alive. they have no lack of scenes that exhibit how in sync they are intellectually, and this is peak physical intimacy and tenderness, added with a brush with death/mortality yeah...

(5) llh/lxy's farewell to dfs (ep 40)

playing cheat here by combining two different moments :) but they are essentially connected. llh/lxy had to leave. and since it really had to be that way, i'm glad dfs was on his mind until the very end. what more can one ask for. there is really nothing more dear and tender in the world to be thought of

-

tl;dr: /blows kisses to every dihua moment

[mr2swap]

-Calm down, champ, you're ruining my vacations, why aren't you an adult Good Man and stop crying?... oh, of course, I'm a fool! I had completely forgotten, You are no longer the adult here...-

The sound of my own crying caused an incessant pain in my head, the tears slipped down my bulging cheeks, and my pale face began to redden, why not? Can I stop acting like a child? Why can't I stop crying? why… did I have to bother that Gypsy?

I could feel the eyes of all the people in the hotel judging me and while I found myself humiliating myself sitting on a metal bench The man who was only wearing a tiny bikini did not stop showing a smile hidden in his beard at the same time that he caressed his long, muscular, hairy legs that were now adorned with a bunch of tattoos.

FUCK! I hate this stupid vacation and I hate my little nephew Eliot, maybe I was to blame that Gypsy cursed me for taking a picture under her skirt with my cell phone but she doesn't have to make this 100 times worse! I was also very drunk when I did that stupid thing that I will now regret until I break this stupid curse or whatever that bitch did to me.

I had to beg on my knees for Eliot to keep the secret from his parents and to help me find the witch, I hate being an 8-year-old, luckily my brother didn't mind the idea of being away from his son all day to regain romance with his wife, While I try to find the damn witch who made me wake up the next morning in the little body of my nephew in the same bed as his mother he behaves as if nothing is happening.

Eliot was always a pain in the ass, he used to stick to me like I was his hero or something, he even ruined a lot of my chances with some girls when he suddenly showed up and they thought he was my son, he wouldn't stop bothering me until I told him to show my tattoos or show him my huge biceps and if I don't find the witch soon maybe I'll be the one to do all that soon.

Since I woke up this morning in my brother and his wife's room I could feel that something was not right with my mind, Bright colors, sweets, fuck even passing clouds now distract me because I now have the brain of a child 8 years old?

-Listen buddy, how about I buy you a whole tub of ice cream for yourself and leave you in your parents' room for just a couple of hours? I really want to try something called Votka and I can't have you fucking up my adult time.-

After hearing those magic words, the tears stopped staining my face, I knew it was a trick, that she was just trying to get rid of me, She didn't have time for that childish nonsense, she had to find that lady, but the only thing that came out from my mouth was:

-The… flavor that I want?-

Hey folks! if you like bodyswap stories take a look at my patreon, I have a lot of more stories, and you can help me keep creating more stories!

[blackstarchanx3new]

FSR rambles 18 dreams about being gannon

Direct parallels to Gannon/OOT.

Sweet time to mention Shadow can play the piano haha. I have a plan for a comic on HOW he learned but that's a later date type thing.

HERO OF TIME HIIIIIII. 💖 Also Naavi.

He's here to murder shadow. Noice.

Seems like Shadow's just getting haunted by this guy considering his appearance earlier in the comic in page 290 -

Seems like Hero of Time just isn't a fan of him or smth. XDDD

Ouch. That looked like it hurt.

Also hi who are you.

Also considering I know who you are...Why are your eyes Blue buddy? :D

"Aw shit. I got sliced"

"Also I'm younger"

Ah dream logic.

Hi Perry-

I mean uhhh

Totally mysterious purple clad hero.

This is a character from the planned sequel of FSR. and I can't speak much about him. You'd know a decent amount about him if you've seen the FSRA posts.

Also his eyes changed...Again...

When I dream I have nothing but nightmares too shadow. Smh.

Oh Hi Link. Why are you wearing white and black. Basically the reverse of Dark Link's fit? Not weird at aaaaall considering that wasn't what he was wearing before he pulled the sword...

It's been around for awhile NOW but Shadow's hair changing to have a red streak...much like a certain gerudo man we know isn't odd at ALLLLLL.

Also nice Malice eyes Shadow.

Yeah I'm sure the magic demonic 8 ball will have the answers you seek Shadow.

Considering the Gannon flashbacks we just saw...Who's "him" Dark? Because Dark could just as easily be talking about Vaati here. But really it's up in the air on who he meant exactly.

Dark keeping his horns from his vaati convo and it appearing on his human ish form was a fun detail to add.

Random note to think about: Dark had to put himself back in Shadow's hat after sneaking off to vaati's house and that imagery is funny so I'm sharing it with you.

Dark's hair is still vaati colored as well and his behavior is reflecting him still.

Link talking about food and sleeping is just about the most link thing ever so Dark gives absolutely no shits about it.

Haha you should have chosen your words more wisely shadow...

It ALMOST sounds like you don't WANT Link here...which Dark can pick up on pal-

Oh shit. You repeated it you meant it.

Yeah don't shout Link could wake up.

Dark kinda SORTA seems to know what's happening...

But he's using "I think" and uncertain language. (You know he's not sure of smth if he's using phrasing like that hah. Since he's usually so self assured in his assumptions.)

Lol ignore how often my dumbass forgot to keep Shadow's hair right. Mistakes happen. 😅

Hey Shadow, abusing the nutcase isn't gonna get you very far.

Especially because he hates your guts.

Dark's kinda right here tho. Shadow's being selfish as hell rn.

The phrase "Does the word "HERO" just have no meaning to you? You disgust me" specifically gets a chuckle out of me considering who's mouth it's coming out of.

Dark continues to miss identify Shadow as Gannon when he said "you're as old as time" (More of a reference to demise depending on how you look at it but same diff)

Dark sweating visibly showing he's still very much scared of Shadow.

Shadow pulled his head out of his ass for a second and realized Dark's acting weird. (Like Vaati)

Dark's instant snap back is amusing but also sad. Like. Shadow doesn't "know him" not in any meaningful way. But he does yield and admit he was looking at memories for... YEARS in the head space.

Which is just a level of horror beyond comprehension.

Imagine spending YEARS looking at other people's memories just to get yanked out of it randomly by mr root of all evil himself bitching at you about smth you don't even know about, some guy you had a single conversation with YEARS AGO. But oh yeah. It's only been maybe 8 hours in the real world and all perception of time and reality was thrown off and you're being accused of being a different person after all that shit.

To say Dark Link isn't having a fun or good time would be an understatement.

I touched on it in a fic where Link and Dark bang of all places but Dark's existence is an existential nightmare.

Dark Link's EXISTANCE isn't fun for him. He's gonna mention it later too but he's MISSERABLE and vocal about his misery and pain just being alive.

Something weird to think about: Who's memories was he even looking at?

Really from his vague description it could be ANYONE.

I personally like to think it's vaati's considering he still has his hair shifted to be vaati's tone, is acting like vaati and mentions shadow being "Annoying"

though Link and vio are high possibilities too haha.

A mix of all of them aren't off base either.

Identity crisis how fun...Dark struggling to separate himself from the memories he's witnessed is concerning to say the least.

At least he's willing to be helpful with what he thinks is going on.

Really he could have just said "Fuck off figure it out yourself" but he offers to try and explain shit to Shadow from his perspective.

Dark's openness to cooperate despite everything is smth noteworthy.

He has literally no reason to do shit like this (Even if it fails) ESPECIALLY considering his distaste for Shadow. He just does shit that's helpful or nice cause he can.

Just little characterizations that Dark Link is more like Link than you'd first think considering his introduction.

Also OOT reference again with Ganon entering the sacred realm to steal the Triforce of power.

The second Shadow mentions them splitting is a relief, Dark cosplays Vio. XDDDD

Even Shadow thinks that was Vio like haha.

Dark's avoiding Link is the funniest part of this. "Oh shit he's waking up, gotta run. Don't wanna talk to him." XDDD

Don't do it Shadow.

It's a terrible idea.

Last time Link was here he was wanting to off himself so he might not be the most mentally sound individual!

Also who's happy to be woken up...

Dark Link being the voice of reason here about the pros and cons to waking Link up or even listening to him haha.

Considering what happens HAPPENS, that probs would have happened REGUARDLESS of if he was woken up or not. The change really is down to whether or not Shadow would A. Even be around for it. B. Be the one to wake Link up and have that burden on his mind or C. Just let shit happen.

Shadow is putting a ton of pressure on Dark to give answers or be helpful AND CORRECT but like...dude Dark doesn't know, he's guessing too lmfao.

Shadow makes what I consider a very foolish choice which was waking Link up.

Dark held back the explosion aspect but he is here to have fun first so uhhhh...Well he DID say it'd be funny to him and not Shadow.

Shadow defaults to blaming Dark Link "Damn demon" which...Shadow learn some accountability.

Panel by panel breakdown cause stuffs getting jucy:

1- Interesting outfit choice Link. It's the one he wore when he was a bit younger. So he's got a younger mindset when waking up. Which is just sad.

2- his outfit changes to half blue half green with a purple sleeve, his hands are all sorts of wrong and mish mashed with red and purple nails. His eyes also have the wrong color. His body is distorting all over the place...Interesting.

3- Shadow you shouldn't have said anything. The coward's hiding too lmfao he knows he fucked up.

4- Safe to say he's not very happy.

Link's distorting and glitching is based on video game glitches. Which is fun because: LOZ is a video game.

There's something distinctly haunting and uncanny about buggy/glitchy game assets and I wanted to capture it here.

Like the reality of four people being forced into one body is quite horrifying and the idea of them just bugging out unable to process how many thoughts there are is overwhelming. Literally like overloading a computer or gaming system.

There's also something to be said about how he fully breaks after seeing Shadow Link.

This is brought up later so I'll expand upon it later but the fact literally the only words Shadow Link spoke to LINK was "I'm the hero Link" or smth like that is hysterical.

For living together for 7 years: They truly don't know each other well on a personal level considering their ability to communicate was stunted by Shadow being...Well a Shadow. And I wanna explore that more as the series goes on.

1- Lol Green hi thanks for trying to stay calm.

2- Vio's here too. Something tells me calming down isn't working considering your face is cracking more and the tunic is flashing different colors.

3- Shadow I swear to god, shut your mouth-

4- Yeaaaaaah we saw that coming. Ouch looks painful. Good thing that body is magic hahaha.

Link's just not having a good time at all. XD

I think a few people caught this but Link breaking down here was based on the forced gem fusions in SU also the distorted static version of the cartoons from learning with pibby XD

It was good inspo for how horrific this scenario is.

Really all of them are just kinda, shoved in there. Unable to truly escape and they're NOT HAPPY about it.

Blue specifically is trying to get out as we'll know later and we get more context on his thoughts about this ordeal from the Darkblue chapter... But visually you can see Link's got two faces and it remains consistent that that's Blue.

Which, is terrifying.

There's also the underlying horror that the "Why" Link is back in one body isn't truly addressed but we'll get more into that later.

Shadow running for his damn life haha.

I'd be scared too if that mess was crawling at me.

The sad thing is that Link's reaching out for help and Shadow responds by screaming in terror lmfao.

Cause Link seems monstruous at the moment but the reality of the situation is he's very clearly conscious and scared. He's reaching out to the only person he can, which is Shadow.

I think this might be my favorite design of Link in this state. It's just horrific to look at. The eyes bleeding onto both his faces which are cracked like mirrors so you can't tell what he's looking at. He has Vio and Blue's legs sticking out of his back, and entire extra head forcing its way off his main one, it's hard to tell from these but his skin is glitching in both Red and Blue's separate skin tones (Blue's being a bit darker and Red's being lighter)

His tunic is pitch black which, black absorbs all wavelengths of light and reflects none...Literally keeping it trapped haha.

Yeah. WHY IS THIS HAPPENING.

Anyway, Link/Green, Vio and red are all reaching out to shadow but blue is suspiciously absent haha.

Them grabbing onto Shadow is smth Vio would do...

The four sword's lil gem thingy is glitched to shit too. Each colored piece being a different size. Green's is noticeably larger while Blue and Red's are about the same size. Vio's is the smallest.

Shadow's hat is doing that thing Dark does when he's upset where it clings to his body.

Yeah feeling like you can't do anything would be a feeling you fall into frequently being trapped as a shadow.

Take that agency back Shadow it's been robbed from you for too long.

Blue: GET YOUR HANDS OFF ME!!!!

Jokes aside I love this moment. Link getting more stable as he keeps Shadow close to him is sweet.

Link just needed a hug. UwU

Or...Less cute option: Maybe...The triforce of power had something to do with it...

Link/Red crying immediately when Shadow says a single word lmfao.

Link's so pretty I love him. I'm glad he's back a bit.

"Shadow, stop talking." could apply to everything he says to link as of rn. XD

Link's still very much emotionally distressed and I'd be too after THAT SHIT SHOW.

I do think it's funny how Link is wearing black here and Shadow is wearing white. (It's just his usual underclothes without his tunic)

Yes shut up and please just hug him it's clearly what he needs rn Shadow. X'D

Perfect cut off point lmfao.

[blouisparadise]

Here are some amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of October. We hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Leave My Heart Open | Explicit | 1,587 words

Note: The main pairing is Louis/Zayn Malik.

Louis is gorgeous. There’s no room for doubt. But he’s looking at Zayn like he wants to devour him, and Zayn would be kidding himself if that kind of intense focus didn’t scare him a bit.

2) Attention | Mature | 3,629 words

The fact that Harry said "I want you ready for me" not only meant that she had to look pretty, but it was more about the fact that he needed her lubricated, dilated and preferably without underwear to make things easier. Louis was aware that maybe she was in for some rough sex in her husband's office after so much provocation and that was just what she wanted.

3) You Wrap Around Me and You Give Me Life | Explicit | 4,778 words

Louis cockwarms Harry in his office and decides that he's bored enough and begins to ride him without his permission. Harry has other plans to pleasure his bratty boyfriend.

4) Naughty Little Elf | Explicit | 5,231 words

Harry is busy and Louis is supposed to be helping him. He's not.

5) Pilot | Teen & Up | 5,279 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“We have fifteen minutes.” Harry glanced down at the watch on his wrist. “How fast do you think my tongue can make you come?” Still against the wall, Louis felt a shiver run from the back of his neck down his spine. In three years walking on moving planes, he'd never had such zero control over his legs. At least not until now.

6) White Noise Frequency | Explicit | 5,574 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

In the dark, something crashes. Louis stirs, barely opening his eyes as he gropes across the bedside table for his phone. Muffled cursing is coming from the hallway, probably about ten feet away from the bedroom door. Allowing himself the tiniest of smiles, Louis yanks the phone free from the charger and slips out of bed, leaving the blankets pooled on the floor. He doesn’t bother with shoes or clothes, moving silently across the floor in his bare feet. Eyes open now, adjusting to the shadows in the dark room, he waits behind the door, crouched down. There’s no more noise. Louis waits, breathing slowly, steadily. He’s awake now, fully alert. He’s got a loose grip on his phone, and he doesn’t glance down at the screen no matter how much he wants to. This really shouldn’t be happening anymore. Three years, two new houses, an upgraded security system and actual money to throw at the problem means this definitely shouldn’t be happening anymore.

7) Wearing You Like Clothes | Explicit | 5,908 words

Louis rushes over to his door and hopes against hope that maybe he got lucky and it didn’t lock this time. He jiggles the handle, but no dice. Louis groans. Great, so he’s locked out and it’s after hours so his landlord will be difficult to reach. He does have a spare key, but it’s with his best mate Niall, who is conveniently out of town this weekend. And it’s not like Louis can go anywhere to ask for help. Not when he’s only wearing knickers.

8) Spiders Don’t Fly But Gods Do | Mature | 6,655 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis Tomlinson is an underpaid photojournalist in NYC. He leads a pretty average life, getting shots of town heroes, dodging flirtatious remarks from old coworkers and being the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man. But what happens when a sex god comes to crash in his apartment?

9) Say You Love Me | Mature | 7,496 words

Harry and Louis are friends with benefits, but Harry wants more. Louis is scared because of his last relationship not ending well. Will Louis let his guarded heart go free or will he keep it locked up and away forever?

10) Always Had That Heart Of Mine | Mature | 7,804 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis is nesting, though he won’t admit to it. Between being ill, the stress of uni, and near drops, the only thing keeping him afloat is Harry’s scent. The fact they don’t get along is neither here nor there.

11) The Knothead Neighbor | Mature | 8,058 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 3: Neighbors AU, preferably ABO! Harry works evenings/nights (maybe like a surgeon something that requires him to be gone for long hours) and has a cat. The cat has a little kitty door at the back so that it can explore and such. Louis just moved next door and the cat seems to always end up at his door. Eventually, Louis lets the cat in, as he’s new and he’s feeling quite lonely. They become fast friends, so much so that the cat prefers to stay with Louis rather than go home. Harry gets concerned that the cat starts to stay out all day/night so he eventually leaves a note attached to the cat’s collar with its name and phone number. Louis texts him telling him he’s his neighbor and not to worry, the cat just likes to hang with him as it might be lonely. Harry gets pissed that this stranger is stealing his cat so he goes to confront Louis and tell him to stop stealing his cat. Of course, as soon as he sees Louis, he falls in love with him and the rest is history. (If ABO could be cute that both Harry and Louis like to cuddle with the cat because it holds the other’s scent)

12) Could Start A Cult | Explicit | 8,750 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

He lowers down the top that Louis is wearing, successfully unclasping his nursing bra as well, letting Louis’ tits bounce at the sudden movement. Harry massages both breasts to stimulate the milk flow, and he can feel his cock hardening inside his pants.

13) Please, Don’t Say You Want Me | Teen & Up | 9,320 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 496: ABO/royalty AU. Where Omega Prince Louis is forced to marry alpha King Harry by his father for the benefit of their kingdom. After the wedding, Harry lets Louis know that he didn’t want a mate and to not expect a relationship from him. Since they are already mated, Harry has to officially reject Louis’s omega to break ties. This practice is so taboo that he doesn’t know the omega has a maximum of a year left to live after rejection. As time goes on, the omega gets weaker and weaker.

14) Sugar Water | Explicit | 9,454 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

When his most familiar begins to feel all too unfamiliar, Harry finds out what it means to love like real people do.

15) You Know It Ain’t Fiction, Just A Natural Fact | Not Rated | 13,312 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“Look, Lou” Harry whispers, “I can’t do it, and as much as I like having dinner with you, and hanging out, I think we should just do it without the tutoring part because I am not smart enough for school.” “That’s bullshit,” Louis answers quickly, “what do you like?” he asks, “I mean, other than football and asking me stuff about my family. There must be something else you’re good at.” “I play football and fuck, Louis. That’s it.” Louis definitely doesn’t flinch at that. He does not.

16) Only You And You Alone (Can Thrill Me Like You Do) | Explicit | 13,346 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Harry wrinkles his nose as he fights Louis' dress to get his hands underneath it, panting deeply. "Alpha..." "I'm still hungry, Louis," he claims with a severity that is derailed by his ragged breathing. "I thought I heard you say you were going to take care of everything."

17) Stockholm Syndrome | Explicit | 13,584 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

"That's it!",Harry screamed in his face, "I'm done with you! I'll take you to your home, where you belong, where your father will be waiting for you with a belt in his fucking hands!" He could not go home. He was finally free. He will do anything to not go back to that place. He desperately and uselessly tried to free his hands, stumbling on his feet. "NO! No! No please, please, please don't take me back, please! I'll behave, I'll listen to you, I swear! Don't take me back, Harry! Please! Alpha!!" By now tears were flowing down his cheeks. Screw his stupid brain and his stupid heart. He was too good for the world. He was too hopeful to think that Harry was any different from his father and his brothers. It was true, all the alphas were the same. All with their disgusting need to control and breed and ruin the life of an omega. To take and take and take, and never give anything back. It seemed as if expecting goodness from the world was a crime and he was the biggest sinner.

18) I’ve Got Something To Confess, I Keep You In My Pocket To Use | Explicit | 16,770 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

"You made Harry Styles practically swoon over you, admit you’re beautiful to basically the world, he asked for your number and you said no. Like, you have to be joking.” Bella tsks as she sits up straight, grabbing Louis’ computer off his lap and putting it off to the side. Louis moves to reach for it, sighing in defeat as he leans back against his pillows. “You know how it goes with those sports guys. They’re just after having a good time before they have to go to the next city and play another game and find another person to swoon.” Louis explains. “It just wouldn’t have worked and I’m too busy right now.” Louis shrugs. “Too busy to fuck Harry Styles?” Bella asks with a raised brow. “Yes, even too busy to fuck Harry Styles.”

19) Swap Me For Your Shadow | Explicit | 16,829 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“…I’m just … so in love with him.” Louis blinked. What??? This hushed revelation from Harry came like a gunshot- loud - and made his heart plummet. He could hardly process it, as he stood there freezing in the wind, hidden behind the balcony door. Harry was … Harry was in love?? Since when?? The shock and confusion that had fallen over him like a bucket of ice was slowly washed over by a feeling that ran hot and acidic. Somehow, it gripped around his lungs tighter, more cruelly. Harry was in love with someone….and it wasn’t him. If Louis thought being in love with his best friend was a knife that continually twisted into his heart before, it was nothing compared to when Harry started to go around talking about having fallen for someone else.

20) A Package Deal| Explicit | 18,875 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis knows Harry hasn't fucked and run because he can hear him talking quietly in the next room. He shouldn't care enough to get up and find out who he's talking to—he knows cops get phone calls at all hours of the night and day—but Louis has always been too curious for his own good. He pushes himself up off the couch and pulls on his underwear, which he finds several feet away, folded in a small pile. Harry must have done that while he was still asleep. It feels a little silly to be tiptoeing around in his own home, but Louis does it anyway. When he finally peeks around the corner to the kitchen, he sees Harry kneeling on the floor with Biscuit, and that alone is enough to disrupt Louis' usual heart rate. When he realizes that Biscuit is allowing Harry to scratch around his ears while he mutters to him quietly about what a pretty boy he is, well, okay. Now Louis might need a defibrillator. For the past three years, it's just been Louis and his one-eye orange cat, Biscuit. When Louis starts sleeping with Harry, the aggravating cop stationed at the ER where he works, he has no reason to think anything will change. Unfortunately, Harry and Biscuit have other plans.

21) Wild At Heart | Mature | 21,006 words

Louis had never left his fathers farm. At age 16, he knew nothing about the outside world. Louis’s world was just peaches, his family, and his friends. As a punishment from his father, Louis has to help train the new farm workers who happen to be no good city boys. Louis gets tangled up in their antics and tangled in the sheets with Harry Styles. A messy bet leads to drinking, drugs, and sloppy kissing. But lying only gets you so far when your with the Tomlinsons…

22) Heart Eyes | Explicit | 21,465 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

What the fuck did he just do? “Harry?” the demon asks as he tries to catch his breath. Louis looks like he’s been fucked to hell and back. His eyes are half-lidded in what Harry can only describe as erotic bliss, even as his crumpled form lies on the dirty ground. The incubus truly is a sight for sore eyes. He’s gazing up at Harry with those infuriatingly pretty heart eyes as if he's hung the very moon. This is wrong. This is all so fucking wrong. Or: Harry is a dedicated sentinel with a strong aversion to demons, and Louis is the lovesick incubus who will go to any lengths to win Harry's heart.

23) It Was All By Design (‘Cause I’m A Mastermind) | Explicit | 21,980 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“You can’t be serious. You think I would be so awful to work for - you would rather quit?” “Don’t be all high and mighty about it,” Harry scoffs. “Surely you would do the same.” “I’m not being high and mighty. It’s called being professional.” “Really?” Harry pushes. “You’d work diligently under me with no complaints? You’d do whatever I asked of you?” “That would be my job, so yeah.” Harry shakes his head. “I’d work you so fucking hard,” he says slowly, “that you’d have to quit.”

24) Splash Me Across The Silver Screen | Explicit | 22,851 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Harry shrugged. “Maybe you just need to get even more outside your comfort zone. Maybe we need to try something a bit more… adventurous?” Curiosity successfully piqued, Louis tilted his head and toyed with the fringe dangling from his lace shrug. “Like what?" “We, uhm—maybe we try filming you in more compromising positions,” Harry suggested carefully. He kept his tone low and even as he studied Louis’ expression, hands skating over his curves soothingly. If Louis didn’t know any better he might have thought that Harry was talking about filming him naked. But that couldn’t be right—could it? “Like porn?”

25) The Bluest War And Peace | Explicit | 27,138 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

For centuries the Black Haven pack had a tradition where the first born omegas and alphas were to be introduced to each other. The pups were barely ten, dressed in their finest clothings and made to look presentable. That's when he first saw his ruins and he knew that he was never going to be the same.

26) I Found An Angel So Divine | Explicit | 30,990 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“Arishem should have abducted a human instead, to fiddle with their memory. Would have been more effective.” Thena, who had been staring into space for a few minutes, looked up. “Why don’t we just bring a human with us?” Everyone turned to stare at her. “What?” she retorted sternly. “Why not introduce him directly to a human being, so he can see how special humanity is?” Pip, who had dozed off against a wall with his pint still in hand, woke up with a start, while Druig tried to make sense of Thena’s words. “Not a bad idea, but who? Personally, I don’t know any human being worthy enough to represent his entire bloody species.” Angel. Eros thought. “Louis!” Pip shouted.

27) Deleted Scenes | Explicit | 33,623 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Agent Harry Styles was injured on the job a few months back, and gets roped in one last mission before he can retire prematurely: playing house with Louis, a widower who has amnesia. The assignment seems simple at the beginning, but soon enough Harry's twisted in a web of his own making, and can't get out anymore.

28) Tainted Love | Mature | 39,381 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Broken awards, cut-up blouses, childish pranks and lots of nastiness? This is apparently all that remains of Louis and Harry after a sudden break-up and they walk a fine line between love, revenge and jealousy. Will the two find their way back to each other or are they both too hurt?

29) Yours, Mine & Ours | Explicit | 40,311 words

Note: This a sequel to this fic.

With their secret out, Harry and Louis must find a way to fight the spotlight, and battle the media, in order to keep their family in one piece.

30) All The Small Things You Do (Remind Me Why I Fell For You) | Not Rated | 53,685 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 68: Pack alpha Harry only wants to marry for matrimonial benefits but no other omega wishes to marry him for his reputation of being a big scary wolf who snarls at everyone for even breathing the wrong way. Omega Louis, to improve his pack’s condition, decides to be Harry’s pack Luna but is taken aback by how soft and sweet Harry actually is with him. AU where Harry is intimidating pack alpha but is very sweet and lovely with his soon-to-be mate and would do anything for his pack Luna, even make fool of himself in front of everyone just to see his giggle.

31) Valhalla | Mature | 73,282 words

Harry Styles is one of the strongest Norse warriors of his generation, an alpha with a noble title and local chief of his tribe, which is composed of alphas, betas, and omegas who have followed him into battle and their families. They live on a large island intentionally named Valhalla, the Norse warriors' paradise. He is almost accepting that he will never find an omega to mate, until he meets Louis Tomlinson, a young exiled omega warrior and also the most beautiful he has ever seen. And the alpha feels that this omega who must have the blood of Freyja running through his veins belongs to him and that he was blessed by the gods. Determined to conquer him, he takes him out of exile by taking him to Valhalla, but Louis is completely skittish and stubborn, determined to tear Harry's neck out with his sword if the alpha continues with this idea that the omega belongs to him. It's in the midst of conflicting feelings, rituals, and battles that alpha and omega find redemption and love even though they end up using their swords against each other.

32) Charmed | Mature | 163944 words

Louis had always felt he was different, but he had never understood why. At least until one particular event devasted hum, turning his life upside down forever and bringing to the surface a past he didn't know, a present he thought he knew, and a series of unexpected events that will trigger the beginning of a future he's not sure he wants to live.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

[kabie-whump]

✧･ﾟRipe, About to Fall - Part 8 ✧･ﾟ

This is an 18+ slowish burn pet-whump story with added romance.

Title from ‘Liquid Smooth’ by Mitski

Series

First | Previous

Chapter Summary: Onthyes goes home. Ventis faces his punishment.

Chapter Content: Drug withdrawals, head injury, domestic abuse, character death mentions (Ventis still thinks Onthyes is dead), branding aftermath

Onthyes does not belong to me. He was created by my wonderful gf @sapphicccici and I have kidnapped him.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“I know you’ve never been smart,” Onthyes’s father muttered, his fingers pinching his brow. “But fucking your boss’s pet? Are you deranged?”

Onthyes winced as his father’s physician dabbed at the wound on the back of his head with a damp cloth that smelled strongly of herbs and alcohol. Early morning light shone through the curtains, making a throbbing pressure grow behind his eyes. It had still been dark when he’d woken up in that alley with a head wound and stumbled back to his father’s place where he had to partake in the harrowing ordeal of telling the man what had happened.

His father seemed more concerned with the fact that Onthyes had lost his job and angered one of the most important men in the city than the fact that he was injured.

“I told you. We didn’t… do that. I never touched him.”

“No. You just decided to steal him away in the night. What were you going to do next? Sell him? Keep him for yourself?”

“You don’t understand, father. I was trying to help him. He was being abused. He wasn’t happy.”

“It was not your place to intervene.”

“I couldn’t just stand by-”

“Enough!”.

Onthyes’s mouth clamped shut.

“I need to start cleaning up the mess you made. Our reputation is salvageable, although you should lay low for a while. Get out of my sight.”

The physician finished cleaning and bandaging Onthyes’s head, and Onthyes found himself wandering into his bedroom. It had been years since he’d last slept in this room. It was just as tidy as he’d left it, and he could tell someone had dusted the furniture recently.

Onthyes sat down on the bed, rubbing his temples with a groan. The events of last night were fuzzy in his memory, but he remembered important little snippets.

Holding hands and sharing nervous smiles with Ventis as they snuck off into the night. A brush of cold lips against his. Then Athos. Always Athos.

Ventis was gone, surely back under Athos’s thumb, probably being punished. And Onthyes had to live with the knowledge that whatever Athos was doing to Ventis was his fault.

If only he could’ve just minded his own business. Played the part of a good house guard without getting distracted by the nearest pretty boy with sad eyes. If only he wasn’t bound by this stupid fucking hero complex.

“Onthyes?”

Onthyes looked up as his mother entered his bedroom, still looking just as young and graceful as she had the day he was born, unlike his father. His father bragged about her all the time; about how no matter how old he got she would always be the beautiful young elf on his arm. There was always resentment in her eyes when he said those things, but still she stayed.

She sat on the bed next to Onthyes and pulled him into a hug, his head on her chest. “It is so good to have you home,” she said into his curls. “But I heard about the circumstances of your return. Are you alright?”

“I’ve been better.”

“Let me see.”

Onthyes turned, sitting still and quiet while his mother pulled the bandages aside and examined his wound. Her fingers were warm when she touched it and whispered the familiar words of a healing spell. His headache receded.

“Your father tells me you tried to steal Athos Landleigh’s slave. Is that true?”

“Not steal,” Onthyes corrected. “Only objects can be stolen. I was trying to free him.”

His mother’s smile was full of warmth as he turned to face her again. “It was a brave thing to do. I am very proud of you.”

Onthyes shook his head. “I failed. Athos took him back. I probably made things much worse for him.”

His mother’s brow furrowed. “You’ve only failed if you’ve decided to give up. Are you giving up?”

“No.”

She laid a hand on his cheek. “That’s my little hero.”

✧･ﾟ Ventis’s POV ✧･ﾟ

Ventis rarely dreamed but he did that night. Onthyes’s face. Onthyes’s hands. Onthyes’s lips.

Onthyes was the first thing on his mind when he woke the morning after his failed escape attempt. Ventis had kissed him. He didn’t know why he did it, just that he had felt for the first time in years that he actually wanted to kiss someone and he’d acted on that urge. The kiss had been a tiny, fragile thing, but maybe it could have been more. If only they hadn’t been caught. Maybe Onthyes had been Ventis’s one chance of ever experiencing real love.

But he was dead now. He had to be. Ventis couldn’t imagine a reality in which Athos let such a transgression slide.

Onthyes was dead and it was all Ventis’s fault.

His back exploded with pain as bandages were peeled away. He’d been so caught up in his own mind he hadn’t even realized that it had been the feeling of being rolled over and the blankets being removed that had woken him.

Ventis let out a cry, trying to pull away from the source of the pain.

“Now, treasure. You know how unloved it makes me feel when you fight. Hold still please.” Athos’s hand landed on his hip, holding him in place as he continued to clean the brand on his back. It hurt so much worse today than it had last night. Probably because there had still been nightspill in his system last night, dulling at least some of the sensation.

Nightspill. He needed it. The familiar ache of withdrawal was already settling on top of him.

“Master,” Ventis whined as Athos redressed his wound. “Please.”

“What is it darling? Do you need something?”

Ventis peeked his face out from where he’d been hiding it in his pillow. Was he kidding? Athos administered nightspill for him every single morning. Sure, it was unusual that they’d ended up sleeping in Ventis’s room instead of Athos’s, but it was still part of their routine.

“My medicine,” Ventis reminded him. “It’s time.”

“Hm. I’m sorry, pet. After your little stunt last night I was under the impression you didn’t want me to provide for you anymore.”

So that’s how it’s going to be. Ventis would have been naive to assume that someone as petty as Athos wouldn’t seek retribution aside from the brand he’d already given him.

“I am sorry,” Ventis said, sitting up slowly in an effort to not upset his back. “I regret it. I will not do it again.”

“Too late.”

The coldness in Athos’s voice made Ventis flinch. “Master-”

“I don’t want to hear it. I have been lenient with you the past few years because you earned it by being so well behaved. My trust and affection are privileges that you have now lost. You will have to work to get them back.”

Ventis didn’t want Athos’s affection back. He didn’t want any of this. But what he wanted and what he needed didn’t always agree, and he needed nightspill.

“I understand,” Ventis said, doing his best to keep his voice soft and even despite the way his thoughts screamed at him to fight. “But please, I need my medicine. You know what happens when I don’t take it.”

Already Ventis could feel lightning crackling through his veins, threatening to escape him without warning. If left unchecked, his storm magic would tear this mansion to the ground.

Maybe he should just let it happen.

“It’s sweet of you to worry, but I’ve got it covered. Come now, we’ve slept in long enough.”

By midday, Ventis was back in his usual place, lounging at his master’s feet while the man held court with some business partners in one of his sitting rooms. His wrist was decorated with a new piece of jewelry, locked into place and engraved with runes that glowed every time his magic threatened to surge to the surface. These moments of suppression brought on waves of dizzying pain, but the pain faded into the background when compared to everything else.

The burn throbbed angrily on Ventis’s back, making itself known any time he shifted. And the lack of nightspill in his system left him painfully aware of his surroundings. Every light was too bright. Every sound was too loud. He flinched at the slightest touch, something which Athos seemed to find some sort of sick enjoyment in and made a point of provoking as much as he could.

Ventis wanted - needed - to be blissfully numb again. Unfiltered reality was just too overwhelming. Too painful.

Ventis leaned his head back on Athos’s knee, suppressing a sob. His skin was beaded with sweat and he couldn’t stop shivering. It didn’t help that whatever these men were discussing was so painfully boring. There was nothing to keep him distracted.

“Is your companion alright, Athos?” one of the droning voices asked. “He looks…”

Shit. Athos had trained Ventis to walk a thin line, keeping a careful balance between being an elegant addition to Athos’s grandeur and not being a distraction. He was supposed to be admired, but never the center of attention unless Athos presented him as such.

This was not the sort of attention he was supposed to draw.

Athos’s hand found Ventis’s hair, stroking in what seemed to be an affectionate gesture at first but quickly became a painful fist in his hair. Ventis gasped, then bit down on his lip.

“Pay him no mind,” Athos said dismissively. “He’s just begging for attention. He’s fine. Aren’t you, pet?”

Ventis swallowed hard as another wave of pain left him lightheaded and burning hot. He could hardly focus on staying upright, let alone forming words. “Yes master,” he managed to say through gritted teeth.

Athos’s hand squeezed harder, turning Ventis’s face in the direction of the man who had spoken. “Apologize for the disruption.”

I can’t do this. I’m going to pass out.

“S-Sorry.”

“Manners, pet.”

“I am sorry for the disruption, sir.” Hopefully no one noticed the tears that filled his eyes as he stumbled over the words.

The meeting resumed once again and Ventis was glad to have the attention turned away from his condition. He was usually so good at pretending to be alright, but without nightspill to keep his emotions at bay it only got progressively harder not to scream with every new wave of pain. By the time the meeting ended Ventis was barely conscious, shaking hard as he leaned his full weight against Athos’s legs.

Once the others had left Ventis tilted his head back so he could stare up at Athos with pleading eyes. “Please,” he croaked. “I can’t do this. I’m gonna die.”

Athos gave no indication he’d even heard Ventis, and Ventis finally broke down crying.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Next

@scp-1296 @sapphicccici @acer-gaysimpstuff @morning-star-whump @yeetmyskeet @rainydaywhump @sleepyiswhumping

[duhragonball]

Roundabout

I watched CJ the X's video about Rick and Morty, mainly because I kept seeing people screencap the parts about perfectionism near the beginning. Well, I thought I should see it for myself, and then I wound up getting pulled into the "Story Circle" concept used by series co-creator Dan Harmon.

This may be old news to a lot of people-- in fact, I'm sure it is, because Harmon admits that this is heavily based on the monomyth concept popularized by Joseph Campbell. I've never fully appreciated the "Hero's Journey" idea before, but I think Harmon has refined it by simplifying the names of the steps. "Atonement with the Father" just becomes "Take", and that's a lot easier for me to grasp. Campbell probably never meant to suggest that every story features a literal "atonement with the father", but his work involved identifying common elements in story structure, so I'm sure he had trouble coming up with fitting names for everything.

Harmon's circle might be a little too simplified, since there's a lot to unpack in the word "Take", but his model is focused on making a formula to write new stories, as opposed to comparative mythology. What I like a lot about the Story Circle is that Harmon insists that it's not a rule that must be learned and followed. Rather, it's an observation of something all humans do when they tell stories, whether they realize it or not. But sometimes it can be helpful to be made aware of the pattern, like checking a map even when you're familiar with the route.

It can be fun, although probably distracting, to apply the circle to existing works. The Star Wars movies used Campbell's monomyth as a blueprint, so that's probably too easy. But it can also be used on individual scenes too. Luke(1) falls down a trap door and now he has to find a way back out (2) before the rancor eats him (3). He manages to avoid being eaten using a bone and some nooks and crannies in the pit (4) but at last he finds a door out of the dungeon, except it's locked, leaving him cornered (5). But he manages to drop a heavy gate on the rancor as it approaches him, which kills it (6). The bad guys then open the door to bring him back to Jabba (7), who now prepares to feed him to an even worse monster outside (8).

And that probably sets up the next cycle in the movie, where Luke saves everyone from the next monster, and so on. I think at long last I understand why these kinds of story structures are presented as "circles" or cycles". You don't have to do multiple laps, but the structure allows you to do so, and acknowledges that multiple cycles can also form a larger circle, and so on.

With episodic television series, the final step, change, often means reverting to the status quo. There's a M*A*S*H episode where Radar tries to become a serious writer, and he keeps trying to inject his army reports with purple prose, until finally Hawkeye explains to him that he has to use his own words and stop trying to imitate what he thinks the "pros" use. So Radar does learn a lesson, but the lesson basically puts an end to the weird dialogue he was using the whole episode and puts him back to normal. The Korean War doesn't end, and Colonel Potter doesn't die, and Klinger still wears dresses, but the structure is still followed and sets up the next cycle.

I can see how this is very useful in a writers' room for a television show, especially one like Rick and Morty, where the characters seem to be capable of almost anything. It probably helps to take stray ideas like "Rick turns himself into a pickle!" and run that through a formula to make sure you can get a working script out of the gag.

Anyway, I'm currently trying to use it to flesh out some ideas for my fanfic, since I have a lot of story beats I want to accomplish, but I don't have much to connect them together. Using the Story Circle seems to be helping me figure out which pieces I'm missing, so maybe this will compensate for all those years where I could just use DBZ Episode 66 and Xenoverse 1 as loose outlines that I could follow. This fall, I gotta build my own story skeleton before I can fill it in, and the clock is ticking...

[nitewrighter]

I think one of the reasons dc/warner bros like to push Batman (other than “cool/dark/edgy”) is ironically, it’s the easiest hero to sell toys of. As a character with no powers, he has to make do with tech, that means accessories! He can’t fly and doesn’t have super speed, ergo the Batmobile or batwing, or a bat jet pack! He needs different suits for different jobs, so that justifies variant figures! With other heroes, you’d just get the figure and that’s it. Why would the flash need a car? Why would Superman need power armor? If you’re old enough to remember, or research back enough, you’ll know the stupidity of the Superman mobile, or the just sad justice jogger. You could have a super figure’s eyes light up to show heat vision, but that’s about it. I guess you could have a green lantern toy line with construct accessories, but clear green plastic might be flimsy or too expensive, I don’t know. I’d think this was why they gave Wonder Woman a sword and shield, cuz they thought the lasso was lame, if not for BoYz DoNt LiKe GiRl HeRoZ! (Convo for another time, but even as a kid I hated that, and I was a boy)

So tldr, one of the reasons dc pushes bats is once upon a time they saw dollar signs at the idea of bat ji Joe.

Also the fact that you can make Batman Merch out of anything just by making it black and/or gray and just slapping a Batman logo on it--it's just probably a lot easier than finagling around other hero's color schemes.

Thinking about the Batsketball again...

But on a lore level, yeah, Batman is basically the "Cool Toys" superhero. You pretty much have every person in the DC universe commenting on how many "Cool toys" Batman has, or how much of a manchild having all those "Cool Toys" makes him. Like, I hate hate hate Frank Miller and of course I would fight him any day of the week, but the one thing All Star Batman and Robin had going for it was the GIANT BEAUTIFUL JIM LEE ILLUSTRATED BATCAVE PULLOUT MULTI-PAGE SPREAD. Like I need you to picture me in bed, giant glass of ice water on my nightstand, absolutely fucking miserable as I trudge through the worst fucking Batman characterization of my goddamn life, and then, AND THEN-- I go, "Oh, this is a pull-out," I carefully unfold it because library book, and then my jaw drops. I literally felt all the 8-year-old boy parts of my brain activate, and then you have young Dick Grayson's voice narrating it with five little words: "And it just. keeps. going."

A thing I really do like about all of Batman's tech and toys is they're all very tactile, and one of the things that's making Arkham Knight very fun as I'm playing through it is this factor of figuring out which of your little gadgets to use in which situation, and you're so proud of yourself when you figure out when the game expects you to use a certain gadget without the game cuing you to do so, or when you get a new gadget and then go back to all the parts of the map you previously weren't able to access without it (Baby "Square shape goes in Square hole" brain activation...) and the game also has very fun sound and vibration design and camera work to make using the various doodads feel very tactile even as it's happening in the game, but okay, let's take all those factors and pivot to Superman.

Superman doesn't have the Batcave, he has the Fortress of Solitude, and the Fortress of Solitude is not a Toy Chest like the Batcave is. The Fortress of Solitude is not a teenager's basement room to brood. The name itself is very intentional: It's Superman saying, "Yes, I save humanity, but I need breaks from it, I need a space to contemplate my work and my heritage, as well as get some distance from it for perspective, or else I will go fucking bonkers." And it's not just a house or a trophy room, either, it's a museum, it's an archive. I think about the Grant Morrison commentary about the bottle city of Kandor being a family heirloom like a snow globe or a music box--beautiful and yet distant, and that also sets a lot of the mood for the Fortress of Solitude: If the Batcave is a big toybox full of robot dinosaurs and a batarang target range and a lot of tactile stuff, then the Fortress of Solitude is a lot more, "You can look but please please please do not touch unless you really know what you're doing." You touch one crystal in the Fortress of Solitude and Jor-El's giant hologram head pops up booming 'KAL-EL, MY SON, THESE ARE THE PRECIOUS RECORDED HISTORIES OF OUR PEOPLE--' and you're like "Oh Jesus fuck how do I turn this off---"

One of the things I've come to really like in recent comics is how, as Superman has embraced having a family, that the Fortress itself feels warmer and more dynamic--Lois is using it as a space to research and write a book about Krypton, Kara tinkers with Kryptonian technology, Jon spent stints there as a toddler in Superman: Space Age, Krypto is there... It's actually kind of reflected how museums have become a lot more dynamic and kid-friendly in recent years. It's still clearly a space they all respect, but there's a much stronger element of enrichment than, "Look at this thing behind glass."

But anyway, yeah, Superman's stories are really more, like, fantastical than Batman's, so it goes to reason that Superman-play is more daydreaming and broad imaginative concepts while Batman-play is more physical and tinkering. So Batman in general is more likely to have lots of toys.

[runninriot]

20 Questions For Writers

i'm a little late because i took a break while on vacation but THANK YOU for the tag @ataliagold and @sidekick-hero 🖤

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

52

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

468,074 (written in 16 months, which is a personal achievement i'm actually quite proud of)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Steddie only for now because these boys still have me in a tight grip i can't get out of

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

thought i'd only look at the stats for the ones i wrote this year out of interest

Liberate Me

Worship Me

Sweet Thing

Tomorrow

You're A God (Be My Sinner)

5. Do you respond to comments?

always!! i appreciate everyone who's taking the time to comment on one of my fics so much. love these little interactions

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

it's 'happy endings always' in my house but the ending of Only Love could maybe count as angsty?

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

it's hard to choose but Where The Sun Still Shines has one of my favourite happy endings

8. Do you get hate on fics?

people have always been very kind to me (thank you, people! 🖤)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

yes and any kind? since i started the The Best You Ever Tasted series i have tried not overthink it and not to limit myself anymore when it comes to writing smut and to just go for it. there's still more to explore 😏

10. Do you write crossovers?

apart from my first ever steddie fic Real Love Is Forever (ST×The Crow mash-up), i haven't written any crossovers yet

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

i think/hope not?!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope. but i'd love it if that ever happened

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

no but i think it could be a fun experience although i'm not sure i'd want to burden anyone else with the chaos that is my writing process 😅

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Steddie. don't know what it is exactly but i love them being in love and writing and reading about them makes me fucking happy

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Weight of the World. do i want to finish it? yes!!! will i ever? only the stars and moon know (it's been a year, man 😔)

16. What are your writing strengths?

people have said i'm good at writing dirty smut mixed with deep emotions which is a compliment i hold dear to my heart

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

ugh. plotting/outlining, just planning ahead in general. i always start my fics with a random sentence and just take it from there which has cost me some nerves in the past because i never know what i'll end up with

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

love when people do that. i think it can be a nice way for authors (like me) who aren't native english speakers to sprinkle bits and pieces of their own first language into their fics

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Steddie (any hand-written sins from my youth are well-hidden in old notebooks and will never see the light of day again)

20. Favorite fic you've written?

oh god, that one's hard because i love all my brain babies equally but

We Are The Lifeless Stars (Shining In The Dark) is the one that broke me most

Small Treasures To Keep is my favourite prompt inspired fic (kudos to all of those amazing people providing us with writing challenges and prompts, i love you guys!)

i absoluetely loved creating Vampire Steve's background story in Show Me What It's Like (To Live On The Other Side)

Unlovable is very special to me in many ways

and Monsoon and Harrsion was probably the silliest fic idea i ever had, inspired by Jemma who came up with the names. it was so fun to write and it still makes me laugh when i think of my google search history while writing that porn actors au 😆

that was fun!

feel free to ignore me if you've already done this or don't want to but i'd love to read your answers

@thisapplepielife @morningberriesao3 @steddieas-shegoes @thefreakandthehair @steddie-island 🖤

[writer-darling]

Are You Ever Dreaming of Me?

Chapter 9: The Great War | Read Chapter 8: Out of the Woods!

I NEVER USE Y/N OR ANYTHING LIKE IT THANK YOU SO MUCH :)

Rating: M - Mature ((for now, but there WILL BE explicit stuff later sooo (18+ MINORS DNI)

Pairing: Ezra (Prospect, 2018) x F!Reader

Warnings: Good old enemies-to-lovers trope. age gap (10 years). Nothing super descriptive for Reader but they are described as having hair. Tension, ofc, especially sexual tension out the wahzoo. Adult language. Alotta feelings and things of that nature. Banter. Flirting. It’s E-to-L, you know where this is going. Feral Ezra (he starts at a 75% but ends up at about a 76.9% in this chapter). Mentions/descriptions of violence, blood, injuries. If there are any that I missed, please inbox me to let me know and I will add them in :)

Word Count: 6.1k

Summary!: A battle breaks out between your crew and a rival group. It's up to you and Ezra to get things under control. Can you two make it out alive?

******

“All that bloodshed, crimson clover

Uh-huh, sweet dream was over

My hand was the one you reached for

All throughout the Great War…”

He goes from being completely relaxed and peaceful to tense and stressed instantly as you both drop down to the floor. Ezra looks at you for a moment, watching you put on your radio and helmet and zipping up your suit. Before he turns then grabs his thrower... but he can't just leave you when he’s not certain where the gunshots are coming from. He turns back around to speak to you, his voice now hushed, almost to a whisper.

"I've got my weapon charged, but I gotta get to my tent to suit up. Then I’ll deal with the commotion outside. Meanwhile, you need to go and get away from the camp. Deal? If anythin’ happens, promise me that."

“What?” You’re shaking your head as you crawl on all fours over to your own weapon, charging it up in record time as the combat outside continues. “No way, I’m not leaving you.” You hear the sound of someone yelling, 

“Ambush!” 

Clearly requesting backup. Ezra’s eyes are like steel now as they look towards the tent entrance as if trying to see beyond the zip. But his attention is back on you as you speak again, your rifle now cocked and ready at your side.

“Either we go together or we both leave.” You say, knowing damn well he won’t leave his fellow crew, just like you won’t.

Ezra sighs and he nods once to show he understands, much to his chagrin. You're a stubborn thing, that's for sure. His heart races at your response and he’s not sure if it’s from the determination in your eyes to stay with him, or out of pure fear and concern for your safety. Regardless, he pushes it aside for now. He needs to focus on getting you both out of this alive. "Well, I guess that means we both go," he says, trying to keep the resignation out of his voice, "but you need to stay close. I mean close. If I tell you to move or take cover, you do it immediately. You're here to help, not to be a hero. Deal?”

You don’t need to be told twice, nodding sternly as the adrenaline takes over. “Deal.” You respond. There’s another round of gunfire and a brief look of fear flashes across your face but you force it away. “Let’s get out there.”

Ezra gives you the firmest nod he can give as you prepare yourself, and then he moves over to the tent’s entrance, both of you standing completely upright only once you’re both in position. "Alright. Follow my lead." He's looking at you once more before he readies himself to step forward, his hand on the zipper of the tent. "On three. One... two... three," he says, and then he's already moving through the opening. You don't even have time to breathe - he's already in the middle of this. You'll need to stick close to him.

You do as he says and stay behind him closely. The sight before you two is awful, bloody. An acrid mix of blood and gunpowder hits your nostrils as soon as you step out of your tent. The sight of gunsmoke is still fogging up the area. There are a few bodies already littering the dig site, maybe about 7. Some you recognize, some you don’t; the latter likely those that ambushed you. Cases of gems belonging to the rest of the crew are scattered all over the site, most of them broken open with some gems accompanying them. Crushed gems are scattered all along the terrain, the fragments glittering brightly amongst the soil.

Ezra's grip is tense as he moves closer to the bodies, his thrower trained and ready to fire at a moment's notice. He's trying to get a good idea of the situation... How many of them are there? Have they already left, or are there more waiting out on the edges of camp? He stops for a moment and looks back at you, still keeping his rifle out. "You okay?" he asks quietly, his tone gentle, but tense and filled with concern as he meets your eyes briefly before making another sweep of the area. There's just... no way he can lose you out here. He won’t.

“Fine.” You respond with a small assuring smile, though your eyes are also tense and narrow as they do their own sweep of the grounds. The gunfire’s stopped but that doesn’t mean the danger is gone. There’s an eerie silence as you two move across the camp. Like trouble is just hiding amongst the trees, waiting to make itself known. You walk as close to Ezra as you can, the two of you getting back to back to cover each other as you both survey the campsite for the smallest sign of harm.

It’s a quick, but tense walk to Ezra’s tent, only a few feet away. Before he heads inside he speaks:

“Any trouble, you run.” His tone is clear: he’s not asking. You nod and do another sweep as you keep your thrower raised, watching him head inside for only a second before your eyes are on the lookout again. 

He suits up faster than you thought physically possible, his helmet and radio in place when he rejoins you outside. His eyes are darting all over the place as he keeps his thrower up and pointed at any potential threat. He really, really doesn't like this situation at all. He was so happy two minutes ago, and now he's in the middle of a firefight. He sighs softly and speaks in a low voice, tuning his radio to your channel as you both reposition back-to-back once more. 

"This is no good," he says quietly, his face tight with tension. "We’re still in danger - please, be on the lookout. There's absolutely no point in us gettin’ hurt, or worse, over this."

“Yeah, tell me about it.” You say, your eyes fixated and razor-sharp as you two begin to move again. It all seems so still, too still.

Ezra moves over to the two nearest bodies and starts searching them for anything of value. Any clues on which group they could be, any sign of why they chose to attack. He continues to scan the area, keeping watch while he searches... "You notice anythin’ about these rivals?" Something in his voice makes you inspect the corpses just a little bit more.

“They’re dressed like us.” You say. “I know some of these faces but the others I know damn well I’ve never seen before.” You add, keeping your voice hushed. “This was a planned ambush. But which of the groups around us was it?”

“Take a look at their boots,” he points out, using his boot to gesture to the nearest body’s shoes. You do as he says and focus your eyes on the boots. There’s nothing particularly special about the boots themselves but,

“They’ve got clay on them.” You remark, taking note of what Ezra pointed out. The bottom of the boots are caked with mud, but bright red-orange chunks of clay pieces are lodged amongst the dirt. Your gaze flits to the next assailant and you see that the bottom of their shoes are in a similar state. “That means it's the group near the river.” Your eyes go to Ezra as he nods grimly. Both of your radio signals suddenly go off and you look at each other before taking quick shelter behind the watchtower. You both press the button on your radios to switch over to channel 3.

Ezra presses his headset up closer to his ear. He listens for a few seconds, his expression serious as he switches the safety on his thrower. He doesn't want to take any more risks in this moment, and he holds his breath while you both wait in the short silence,

A voice crackles through the signal,

“Ezra, colt, what are your positions?” Denver’s voice floods both your earpieces and you let out a sigh of relief. 

“We’re on site; Ezra and I found each other once the ambush began.” You lie, not telling him you two were together the whole time, knowing that’ll only worsen the rumors. If you two don’t die out here first.

Ezra's eyes light up and he lets his shoulders relax ever so slightly. He listens carefully for a moment and then he speaks into his own radio next, his voice firm and clear. "We're safe, but we need some help. We've already got various crewmembers down. I'm requestin’ assistance and evacuation from camp. How's it lookin’ on your end, boss?"

“Affirmative. Sending backup now. Negative on the evacuation; we can't afford to leave the site right now, there are too many of our crew scattered.” You can hear the sounds of gunfire and Denver yells out a few commands to the crewmembers with him. Ezra closes his eyes in frustration, his jaw tensing for a moment,

“If we linger, we’ll be killed.” He insists and you both wait for a response.

“We’re staying, Ezra. That’s an order.” Denver responds. Your eyes flit to Ezra as he clicks his teeth, still frustrated but he nods.

“Yes, sir… How are y’all holdin’ up?” He asks. 

“We’re still in battle here,” Another round of gunfire in the background complements his words. “A good portion of us are managing to hold the fort in the dining tent. Most of the rivals are gone, and a few ran off towards your area. They scattered once the gunfire began, and probably couldn’t handle the bloodshed. You two hang tight and try to find survivors from our crew. Backup will be there soon.”

Ezra lets out a deep sigh as this is clearly the most positive piece of radio chatter he's had since he started this conversation. He gives another affirmative before signing off, and then he turns back to you. "We need to find survivors and bring them back." He's talking as if he's your superior in both his tone and his attitude. He expects you to listen. "Are you up for that? Are you with me?"

Usually, you’d argue with him, bicker, and be difficult. But now, he’s your friend, your partner in battle. And you know you have to obey if you want the both of you to get out of this mess alive. You nod clear determination in your eyes. 

“I am; I’m with you.” You say firmly and check that your thrower is charged again as you two come out from your temporary shelter slowly.

He nods once and looks around carefully before he speaks again. "Alright," he says, his voice quiet and his eyes moving around constantly, "we need to check the rest of this site. Let's stick close, and be ready to run if things go bad. If you even get the slightest inklin’ that this is about to turn into a situation, you need to warn me immediately. Just say the word and I'll start makin’ a dash for it. We can keep an eye out for others as we move, but safety always comes first. Deal?"

“Deal.” You nod and follow him. You two find a few injured crewmembers and take them to the nearest tent on the far left of the camp. They’re all too hurt to fight, leaving you and Ezra as the only strongholds.

In the distance, you hear another commotion and turn. Your eyes widen as you see more members of that rival group running towards you both, their guns aimed. But you’re outnumbered 5 to 2 and you turn to Ezra.

“Run!” You yell and wait for him to move before you do. Gunfire begins to rain down on you both.

Ezra's eyes go wide as you yell out your command, and in the next moment, he's already turned and sprinting away as fast as he can, making good time. He briefly glances back for you as he suddenly makes a hard right, taking a tight turn around a large rock formation. Just as he's going around, he yells back to you over his radio, "I'm going to lead them away from here. When I do, I want you to get the hell outta here! Understood?!"

“What?? No!” You yell back as you run, the sound of gunfire no longer following you, but following to where you saw Ezra last. “Are you crazy?? You’re outnumbered, they’ll kill you or catch up to you!”

"It's not a choice, rook!" Ezra calls back as he begins to run again, in zigzags as the gunfire rains down on him once more. There's a burst of gunfire off to your right, and then the sound of Ezra yelling out in pain... but then it all goes quiet.

Everything's so quiet, and you can't see where he went after he rounded the corner. You don’t hesitate even as your body goes cold and your heart drops into your stomach. 

“Ezra!” You yell. A sudden zip brushing your suit shoulder makes you look up and you spot one of the enemies from the group that has now followed you. You’re quick as you both get into a shootout, one of your strikes finally hitting their shoulder and knocking them down, you don’t hesitate as you shoot again, this one piercing their helmet and hitting them square between the eyes.

Before you can dwell on that much, you watch as the group of enemies that went after Ezra suddenly walk back into view calmly. But they’re not looking at you, so you drop down into the tall grass. At that moment, you hear more shouting and more gunfire behind you.

Turning, you spot the backup you requested coming in hot. There are 7 members of your crew and you smile despite your concern for Ezra. You watch as they run towards the group of 4 rivals, and let them handle things as your attention is now solely focused on finding him.

“Ezra, come in! Ezra, answer me!” You yell into your radio, deep dread filling every cell in your body, threatening to paralyze you but you force your legs to keep moving.

As the gunfire behind you continues, you can hear the radio signal cut in and out while you yell for him. Your crew members don't even hesitate when they see what's going on - they all start to fire back at the attackers, and they manage to take out two of them. The other two run for cover as the situation changes dramatically in the next few seconds...

There's silence for a few more moments and you feel like they could be hours. And then Ezra's radio signal finally kicks on. His ragged breathing is the first thing you hear and the relief you feel is instant. He speaks next and while his voice is strained, obviously in pain... he's alive, and that’s what matters most to you.

"Are you okay?" He groans, his voice a rough pant.

“Are you??” You ask, still running and looking for him with your weapon at the ready. “Where in Kevva’s name are you??” You ask.

"I'm alive," he says, his voice grim, and there's a slight grunt as he speaks. "Those bastards shot me good... I can't keep up like this. You need to go back." Another bullet rips through the bushes nearby at the same time he's talking, but you only glance back once before you run faster, not knowing or caring if that bullet was meant for you or not. Then he adds, "There's no way they came here randomly. They're lookin’ for somethin’, and I think we've already made a mess of their plans. You need to leave, okay?"

“Like hell!” You respond. “Absolutely not, I either leave here with you or I die here, Ezra. Now tell me where you are!” You say.

"I'm at the caves, alright?" he says, letting out another grunt of pain, "Please, go!"

He doesn't waste any time explaining the situation to you. And you don’t waste time trying to convince him, all your focus is on finding him. Just then, a burst of gunfire erupts from the direction of the caves. Ezra isn't kidding... this situation is about to get very bad, very quickly. You can't leave him.

"Please!"

“No!” You yell back and cut the radio, even as you hear him start to protest. Your legs burn as you push your speed to its limits, but after another few seconds, the caves finally come into view.

You can hear the sounds of a struggle. Your eyes narrow slightly as you go in through the nearest entrance, turning on the light atop your gun. The near-darkness is cut as you make your way into the cave, your body tense. Your eyes go to where the sound is coming from and you almost freeze when you see that he’s in the middle of a scuffle with an enemy, his gun a good distance away. But Ezra’s got the upper hand from the looks of it as he straddles his assailant, punching him. The man’s glass helmet is shattered and as you hear bones breaking, you don’t know if the helmet’s shattered from the force of the punches or from so many attempts at breaking it. 

But then the situation shifts when the man punches Ezra on his right side and Ezra yells in pain, falling. The man moves and is quick to crawl on top of him. 

A scream lodges in your throat as a knife appears in the man’s hand suddenly as he raises it, aiming to stab it into Ezra’s chest. Your heart clenches almost painfully at the look of fear in Ezra’s eyes. A bullet zips from your weapon and hits the man square through the jaw, making him yell and Ezra freeze. You hadn’t even realized you’d taken a shot until his panicked eyes glance up. When Ezra sees that the bullet wasn’t meant for him, he relaxes, moving out from under his assailant. 

You move next as you hear the enemy gurgling blood and approach them both, using a final bullet to put the man out of his misery. You drop down to Ezra’s side as you take cover. He quickly crawls over to where his gun lies and grabs it before rejoining you and getting into position beside you. His eyes meet yours just as you both hear more men coming through, both of you once again aiming your guns forward.

The relief that fills you is immediate even as you see that he’s clearly injured. As an unrecognizable group of 4 comes in, you and Ezra immediately begin to shoot. Ezra grunts with effort and pain after every shot, but you’re too focused on the firefight to take a good look at him.

“Miss me?” You ask your eyes forward.

He lets out a quiet chuckle as a shot zips dangerously close to your left shoulder, and another brushes over Ezra’s hair. "Ah, you're somethin’ else." He remarks as he hits the man who took a shot at you square in the heart, while you hit the man who went after him in the leg. "Thank you," he adds. You only nod and keep it up, the adrenaline making this fight seem like it lasts 5 seconds and 5 hours all at once.

After a few minutes, the gunfire stops... but only because all four of your attackers are dead. You can see all four of them on the ground. You and Ezra slowly rise from hiding. "Are you hurt?" He asks, breathing roughly as he limps closer to you, his eyes scanning your body.

“No, but you are.” You say, straightening up and feeling the relief of the fight’s end wash over you. “Where are you hit?” You ask him, your attention is now undivided as you zero in on his injury.

"My right side," Ezra says, lifting his arm up to reveal a fairly large wound that's now bleeding out onto his suit. 

“Was it a clean break? Straight through?” You ask, and he nods.

“Yeah… think so.” He grits his teeth in pain as he talks, and he keeps his right arm down at his side. "I'll be alright," he says in an attempt to reassure you, even though he's in a lot of pain. "We need to treat this, though."

“Goddamnit. We need to get you back to camp, fast. Can you walk?” You ask him, your eyes scanning him for any other injuries.

Ezra nods once as he lets out a sigh, "Yeah... I can walk. It's gonna hurt pretty bad, though."

He winces at the pain of having his right arm up at his side. He looks over at you and nods. "I'll be fine. We'll get through this... just like we've always done. Okay?" he says with a faint smile. You nod in response, the worry clear in your eyes as they flicker between his face and the large bloodstain on his suit. "Now let's get going. We've got med kits waiting back at camp."

You nod and immediately fall into his left side, slinging his left arm over your shoulders and letting him lean his weight on you as you two walk back to camp together. You’re trying to be as gentle as possible but you’re also trying to rush, knowing he needs medical attention as soon as he can get it.

You send a signal to Denver and his voice floods your radio.

“Colt. where are you?”

“Exiting the caves, sir. Ezra’s hurt. I’m walking him back to camp now.”

“Sending two men your way. How bad is the injury?” He asks. You glance over at Ezra as he winces, almost tripping on the uneven soil again.

“One gunshot, straight through, on his right side. Below his ribcage. I can’t tell yet if it hit any major organs.” 

“Alright. Keep walking you two, help is on the way.” 

“Clear.” The signal goes quiet and you don’t speak again as you and Ezra continue walking.

Ezra leans on you the entire way, moving as quickly as he's able. Occasionally, he makes a sound of pain through his teeth or yells if he trips or moves too quickly... but he's pushing forward despite that. 

You can see the camp up ahead - just a minute or two more. It seems like everything has been shifted over to the dining tent. There are men outside already, all of them helping tend to injured survivors... and a few of them rush over to meet you as you get closer. 

They take Ezra from you and carefully guide him into the tent. You follow close behind them, your eyes not leaving Ezra until you’re inside, where the dining tables have been shoved to the far edges to make space for cots and medical equipment. They place him on the nearest empty cot, where you see two more men already waiting. Few prospectors have medical training other than the basics. Yourself included. You remove Ezra’s helmet and radio for him, setting them aside on the floor.

Ezra's wincing in pain as he's moved onto the cot, and you notice that he's clutching at his side and looking up at you with a grim expression on his face. The two men who brought Ezra in leave to go help elsewhere, while the other two get to work right away. They're wearing gloves and sterile attire and you watch as they cut away at the immediate cloth covering his injury.

“How can I help?” You ask; you’d rather be put to work somehow and offer assistance than just sit around worrying about him. If you can help stop his pain somehow, you’ll feel better and so will he.

The man working as the primary attendant looks over at you. You briefly recall his name is Terrant. “You can help hold him down."

You remove your own helmet and radio, along with your gloves, tossing everything aside next to Ezra’s gear. You wash up quickly before you get onto the cot, near Ezra’s head. He lets out a moan as Terrant begins to dig into the wound, but he grits his teeth and keeps his mouth shut. As you start pressing down on Ezra's shoulder, his face contorts, his face pale and sweaty.

“Hey, look at me.” You say softly, speaking to him in a low soothing tone. “How are you holding up?” You ask, trying to get him to keep his eyes on you and not on what they’re doing to him.

Ezra lets out a long breath of air, but he manages to keep his eyes on you. "I'm not doin’ so hot," He says in a whisper - but he's staying calm and controlling his breathing to keep his pain under control. When he speaks again, he's still quiet, but he manages a soft smile for you. "How are you?" he asks, "You okay?" He looks at you for a moment before he closes his eyes, knowing what's being done is for the greater good.

“I’m fine.” You say, and the shock in your voice is evident. You’ve barely got a scratch on you. “You’re a goddamn lunatic, you know that??” You ask with a soft laugh. “You ran off by yourself, chased by a crew of four. Do you have a death wish??” You ask him, your tone light but it’s clear that you’re very concerned about him.

Ezra chuckles as you call him a goddamn lunatic, but his laugh is cut off as he's suddenly hit with another wave of pain. His eyes shoot open, and you see his eyebrows clench. He takes another long, slow breath, and after a few seconds, it passes. "...I've survived worse," he says, finally looking back up at you with a faint smile. "Besides, I knew you'd come to rescue me, starflower."

That pet name again. You smile and shake your head, even as a light blush creeps into your cheeks. “You’re lucky I’m stubborn and don’t like following your orders.” You say. “Besides… you saved not only my ass but the asses of those injured. What happened to ‘not being the hero’?” You tease softly, quoting him from earlier.

Ezra laughs as you quote himself back to him, and he shakes his head once. "How could I not try to save that perfect smile of yours?" he asks playfully, and then he looks away... even now, he's flirting with you. Even in a situation like this, he still has it in him to make you feel special... but now isn't the time for that. For now, there are more important things happening here, so Ezra takes another deep breath. "How’s it lookin’? Any hope?" he asks, sounding genuinely nervous.

You nod and refocus, looking over at the crewmembers tending to him. It’s looking a lot better already. They’ve cleaned away the blood, and start applying some sort of antiseptic to the wound. This makes Ezra grit his teeth even more... but he knows how important it is that they properly treat him. With less viscera, it’s not as terrifying, making you relax further. You grab a rag from the medkit and clean the sweat away from his face and hair.

“They’re almost done with one side.” You say softly. “Just keep looking at me.” You instruct, leaning a little closer to him.

Ezra looks back at you as you lean in. "I don't have any intention of lookin’ anywhere else, sweetheart," he says softly, and for once he's not trying to be flirtatious. You can hear the sincerity in his voice as he's doing so. You reach your hand up and take his, gently squeezing it, and he smiles at you... maybe not as deeply as he normally does, but his eyes convey more than any words could. "Can you stay here with me ‘til the healing's done?" he asks, his voice soft. You smile softly. 

“Oh, what, you thought you could get rid of me that, easy, huh?” You ask. “Absolutely I’m staying.” You say, squeezing his hand gently in comfort. His grin widens and the relief in him is palpable. Your lips brush his temple before you can stop yourself.

His hand goes limp in your grip as you do - he flinches in his cot, mostly from surprise, and his eyes seem to go wide for a brief moment as if his entire world stops for a second... But then he's got a smile on his face, and he looks at you with a raised brow. "Now, why'd you have to go and do that?" he asks playfully. "Just couldn't resist, huh?"

“Fuck you.” You say, even with a wide smile. “It’s called being grateful, jackass. Maybe you should try it sometime.” You respond with a good-natured eye roll.

Ezra laughs at your response and smiles as he squeezes your hand back, a hint of playfulness to his tone. "Fair enough," he says, returning the eye roll. “For the record, you did save me back. So I suppose you just owe me one ass-savin’.” He says playfully. You grin in response. 

“Oh, I do, huh?” You ask, smirking. “I mean you’re the one saving someone you said is only ‘tolerable,’” You quote him with a knowing smile.

Ezra lets out a long breath of air, and he laughs softly. “Well, I think we’re long past that, rook. Wouldn’t you say?” He asks, and then he smirks a little bit before he speaks again. "Besides, I’m a hurtin’ man right now, clearly on my deathbed! Are ya really gonna tease me about my ego some more?" His eyes twinkle with amusement and the sight is a relief to you. You look around for a moment and spot Denver directing two more injured crew into the tent.

“Maybe just a little. You gotta admit, your ego’s bigger than most.” You don’t realize how insinuating that sounds until you look over and see the look on Ezra’s face. You roll your eyes. “Kevvasake, you really are 14 years old.” You mutter with a grin.

His eyes light up, a short laugh escaping him even as he’s in pain. He blushes, and then he tries to think of something to say, but he comes up empty. You roll your eyes at him, blushing yourself. 

“Listen, I didn’t realize what I said until after I said it, alright?” You say with a grin, backtracking.

“Right..." he says playfully, "Sure you didn't." He smirks and rolls his eyes at you, but he's still laughing a little bit. "I'm the 'kid' here, right?" he asks, and when he sees you're blushing and getting flustered, he can't help but smile going quiet for a minute or so before he speaks again. 

"And, since you didn’t leave me for dead I guess that means you really like me, yeah?" he asks, a little smirk touching his face. His voice is still low and soft, but it's impossible for you not to smile at it. 

“No, of course not, this entire friendship was all a ruse to let your guard down and get shot, as was my plan all along.” You respond sarcastically before your tone softens, becoming more sincere. Your eyes bore into his as the atmosphere shifts between you both. 

“Yes, I do.” You respond honestly. You can tell he’s surprised by your sincerity but he doesn’t let it faze him too much, blushing and smiling instead. 

“Well… I can admit that I really like you too." There's a slight smirk on his face as he says that, a more rogueish twinkle in his eyes as he leans in a little bit closer. You grin and kiss his temple again before the other prospector next to Terrant speaks while Terrant cleans off the tools he’s been using,

“Okay, we’re done with the entrance wound, now we gotta do the exit wound.” The man says. “Can you help me get him on his stomach?” He asks you and you nod immediately.

“Yeah, I can do that.”

“Ok, on three.” You two carefully flip Ezra over on the cot and he shouts in pain, making your heart break a little.

“Easy, Ezra, easy.” You say softly as the two others begin working. Ezra nods even as his face is contorted in pain, his eyes shutting for a moment. “Hey,” You say softly and tilt his chin up to find you. “Uh-uh, keep looking at me.” You say, boring your eyes into his. He nods and does as you ask, his face red and a sweat on his brow. You clean it away with the rag. He moans in pain but he stays still, his gaze locked on yours. “Really rethinking saving my ass now, huh?” You joke.

“Oh, never.” He responds with a breathless laugh as he tenses every muscle in his body to keep himself still. “I’ll take this any day as long as you’re still here to look at me with those pretty eyes.” You roll your eyes at him but grin, kissing his forehead again. You smile and keep him distracted until Terrant’s wrapping up.

“Ok, we’re just about done here.” He says, giving Ezra’s wound a final rub down of antiseptic. You smile, relieved, and kiss Ezra’s temple once more.

Ezra's eyes go wide again when you kiss him on the temple for a third time, a tingle shooting through him as he holds his breath again. He quickly gets his composure back, though - but he's still blushing. He looks at Terrant, then he raises an eyebrow and speaks in a grim tone. "Is that right?" he asks, "All patched up then?"

“Yeah, looks like the bastards missed your liver by about 3 inches. We’re gonna give you something for the pain; a good amount of morphine. It’ll probably put you to sleep, let your body heal and rest.” Terrant says as the prospector assisting him prepares the injection. Your eyes go wide and you quickly look away, hiding your face, even though you’re not the one receiving the shot.

Ezra grimaces as he sees the needle come out, but he doesn't flinch when it punctures his skin. He holds himself very still for a moment, letting out an occasional grunt of pain as the medication flows into his vein... but he just keeps holding your hand, and he squeezes it gently before the drugs fully kick in. He looks up at you with a slight smile, and then he closes his eyes. "I'm here... I'm here," he says quietly, breathing deeply. "I'm not goin’ anywhere, okay?" he says, his voice soft and gentle.

You look at him in surprise. “Are you comforting me??” You ask him incredulously. “You’re the one getting injected!”

Ezra laughs for a moment before the morphine starts to take effect, and his laugh quickly becomes muted and muffled. "I can do both, can't I?" he asks softly, his voice trailing off slowly before the drugs start to affect his voice. As his breathing goes shallow and his body starts to relax, he just smiles at you. "I'm here... promise..." he says one last time, his eyes closing and his breathing now very soft. You watch him and your heart stutters as the last thing he does is whisper your name before he finally falls asleep.

You laugh at him softly as tears sting the corners of your eyes, a myriad of emotions running through you. “Blessed Kevva, you really are a lunatic.” You mumble, but he’s already fully asleep. You kiss his forehead once more and brush his hair out of his eyes. You’re just watching him as he sleeps and petting his hair.

Terrant clears his throat to grab your attention and you focus on him.

“He’s really lucky, but he’s not in the clear yet. This next 72-hour period is important to ensure that his injury isn’t infected. I know a lot of the groups like to poison their shots to damage enemies further. He’ll need to be monitored around the clock for the next few nights.”

“I can do that.” You respond immediately. “Whatever it takes.” Terrant nods.

“Ok. I’m gonna go help out, but if he wakes up again, you call me.” He says, You respond with another nod and he leaves with his assistant after you’ve thanked them for all they’ve done. Your eyes go to Ezra and the worry still settles in your heart as you go back to caressing his hair.

You realize then that you don’t hate Ezra, you don’t like Ezra… you love him. You truly love him.

******

I have to say I was especially excited to upload this chapter. It's the chapter that inspired this whole series in the first place. I had to reread the battle scenes so many damn times to make sure I got it all and it made some sort of sense. Hopefully it worked, haha. Next chapter will be up next week! Thanks a million and see you in the next one!

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[heatherthetiredwriter]

20 Questions for Writers

Thanks for the tag @autumnwoodsdreamer <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

Currently just one! I've got two others sitting around in drafts but I've not published them

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

8,742

3. What fandoms do you write for?

My one fic I've published is a crossover for three fandoms, Big Hero 6, Tangled: the Series, and Tales of Arcadia: 3 Below. So I guess I write for those three. And my other two unpublished fics are for Frozen and How to Train Your Dragon. DC as well kinda.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Well I've only got one so the list is just

A Game of Keep Away

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! I love comments and try to respond to them as soon as I get them! They make me so happy! Though... I do have a problem with... comments.... that I know come from a specific person being on multiple accounts that I try not to engage with too much.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

So A Game of Keep Away is again the only one I've published and its got a LOT of angst and much more to come-- but my unpublished Frozen fanfic probably has the angstiest ending of them all

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

It's not really spoilers, especially since I haven't written it all yet, but A Game of Keep Away will have a happy ending! My unpublished, unfinished httyd fic probably has the happiest ending, but that fic is like never ending I swear---

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Never hate, which I'm glad for. I've had grammar police. But I don't mind them cos "dang it, how didn't I catch that?" My problem, again is mostly with the one specific person who comes and finds my fic no matter where I post it and comes at it with this energy that I do not enjoy. I am glad this person likes my fic but my goodness I don't need that energy in my space when I'm trying to write 😭

9. Do you write smut?

Nope.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Yes! I already mentioned my only published fic right now is a crossover! I love writing crossovers!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I've had so many things stolen off of Wattpad. So. Many. Stories. Oh my goodness.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not that I'm aware of!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I am currently co-writing a fic with my boyfriend and our other friend, its called The Last Bat and I am just remembering its also on AO3 I think and that means some of my answers might be incorrect bc I didn't take into account that fic but I don't care cos its not on my account its on his

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

How could you ask me to choose between my favorites like that??? But it might have to be one from How to Train Your Dragon? It was the first thing I really got into. I remember shipping Hiccup and Astrid so hard. And Heather and Fishlegs as well. So maybe one of those two.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

My httyd fic... It's too big of a fic to actually write I'm pretty sure. I might could make it smaller, but I'm certain it would take years to actually write out. I think currently it sits at seventy-five chapters? or something like that? But those were twelve year old me chapters and so I would want to re-write them and make them better.... and then I'd have to continue the story.... Like in my head, I'm fond of the story because it was my first ever fic, and because it was a way I connected with my now dead great-grandmother when she lived so far away from me (yes, I did get my great-grandma to sign up for a wattpad account when I was 12), but I don't know if I have the stamina to keep that up again. Plus this was the fic that kept getting stolen. I'm sure its floating around the internet somewhere, despite the fact that I took it down from all my platforms.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I've been told I'm really good at getting into a characters head. And I'd like to agree. Once I'm in, I know their everything. What they eat for breakfast. What color their socks are. How they'd react to the stupid trolley problem. So I never have any problems showing how a character reacts to something. How it makes them feel.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I definitely could be more descriptive. I've noticed I've only ever been descriptive with a character once and that was just because I was so into her head and I knew that instead of focusing on the dangerous missions she was on, realistically she'd be like "Oh I wonder what kind of fertilizer they are using for their poppies? They are beautiful!" So since then I've been trying to paint a visual picture better. Something that I am finding to help is figuring out my setting beforehand and like mixing ambiance players to give the right vibes. Then it tends to come easier. But its something I need to work on for sure.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

In the wise words of @autumnwoodsdreamer "One word: italicise." But also yeah I'll mix in other words. I've done a lot of dragonese for different httyd things. Elvish too.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

How to Train Your Dragon

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Its not published anymore, it didn't survive my personal purge, but it was a crossover between httyd and the hobbit movies. One of my ocs antagonists from my httyd fic got teleported into the hobbit movies and fell in love with Kili. Who then of course dies at the end of the movie and she steals his body and does the whole viking burning boat funeral to try and send him to Valhalla. And then she comes back to her world and the main fic and is like "Imma be a better person so I can be with Kili in the afterlife :)" It was so cringe, but I was free and innocent and thought it was the coolest thing ever and I wrote like I was the most talented person in the world and honestly 12 year old Heather was onto something bc I'd like half of her confidence

No pressure tagging: @susanshinning @rachelbethhines shooot im trying to think of people I know that post on ao3........ if you post on ao3 then please feel free to join!!!!!

[littlelovelyspiderling]

Meeting The Real You (Chapter 9)

Chapter 1 -- Chapter 2 -- Chapter 3 -- Chapter 4 -- Chapter 5 -- Chapter 6 -- Chapter 7 -- Chapter 8

word count: 25,347

***CONTENT WARNING: MENTION OF SUICIDE***

___________________________

“What did I tell you?”

Peter shriveled a little, wincing as Stark threaded the suture needle in and out of the skin surrounding his still-healing bullet wound, face flushed behind his mask as he sat once again between his mentor and Johnny Storm, wearing nothing but his boxer briefs. Unlike Spider-Man, the Human Torch appeared to have no qualms being half-naked in front of others. In fact, based on his surprisingly racy modeling portfolio, Peter was certain Johnny’s superhero costume would be far more risqué if Johnny had any say in the matter. At the very least, he’d add some bold cutouts down his legs and across his midsection. Maybe some fingerless gloves or a gold choker around his neck. Meanwhile, from Peter’s perspective, the less skin he was showing, the better—especially since he was always in the mindset of trying to keep his secret identity under wraps. 

“Take it easy. No web-swinging,” Peter eventually mumbled.

“And what did you go and do anyway?”

Spider-Man grimaced. “Swung from Washington Square Park to here. But—”

“No buts. You ignored my demands, and now we’re both paying the price. You know the rules, kid. After I’m done sewing you up— again —the suit goes in the lab and stays there for as long as I deem appropriate. Understood?”

Peter sighed. This was the agreement Stark and May had forced him to abide by until he turned eighteen. Tony had never kept the suit from him for longer than a couple days, but it still sucked majorly whenever he was made to give it up. It never failed to make him feel like a grounded pre-schooler. 

“I thought you tore your stitches when you backflipped for the livestream,” Johnny said with a frown. Tony went rigid, eyes rising to meet Peter’s, nostrils flaring. Peter wished he was close enough to the Human Torch to kick him in the shins.

“You did what?” Stark snapped.

“You told me you didn’t web-swing today!” Johnny exclaimed. 

“Johnny!” Peter cried, exasperated. “You said you’d take the heat for this, not get me in trouble even more!”

“That was before I knew you lied to me!”

“Can it, you two,” Tony interjected, piercing Peter’s skin a tad less gently, making the young hero flinch. “You heard me. Suit. Lab. End of discussion.”

Peter sulked in defeat. How was he ever going to take down Kingpin when his mentor kept treating him like a goddamn five-year-old? Eighteen could not come fast enough. 

Johnny shot a glare in Peter’s direction, then exhaled slowly, placing his hands on his hips. “Mr. Stark, it’s clear that Spidey was a massive fuck-up today.”

“Hey!” Peter protested, earning a sharp flick from his mentor.

“Keep still,” Tony demanded.

“But if you take away his suit, he and I won’t be able to hang out anymore. If I promise to keep him from being a dumbass and hurting himself again, would you consider letting him keep it? Please? You know, one member of the SDS to another?”

To Peter’s surprise, Stark actually seemed to be considering his request. Peter knew how hard it was to say no to those big blue eyes paired with that pleading, innocuous smile, but still. Spider-Man wrinkled his brow, glancing between the two of them suspiciously.

“What’s the SDS?” he asked. 

“Shhh,” Johnny cooed, smooshing a finger against Peter’s lips. “Nothing that concerns you, cutie pie. You just sit there and look pretty while we work this out, yeah?”

Peter blushed in surprise, then batted Johnny's hand aside. “Why do you always have to be so damn condescending?” he asked, stifling a giggle.

“You swear you’ll keep him grounded until I give the green light?” Stark inquired hesitantly, stroking his thin beard.

Johnny beamed. “I can more than swear it,” he assured the Avenger, raising his hand and extending his littlest finger. “I pinky promise.”

Tony rolled his eyes and shooed Johnny’s hand away. With a sigh, he leveled his gaze on the young celebrity. “If he so much as splits one stitch—”

“Then I’ll rip off his suit and hand-deliver it to you myself,” Johnny assured him. 

Peter reddened as Stark knotted off the final suture in his side. “Please don’t,” the two said in unison. His mentor moved to stand directly in front of him and met his eye with a long, cold stare. Peter shrunk back, opening his mouth to try to say something constructive, but Tony shut him up by balling up the Spider-Man suit and chucking it directly into his face, muffling his yelp of surprise. 

“There. Happy now? Christ—I can’t believe how much of a pushover you’ve turned me into. I should’ve known how dangerous you two would be working in tandem to corrode my willpower and estimated lifespan.”

Peter untangled himself from the suit, then joined Johnny in showering Stark with proclamations and placards of gratitude. Tony simply crossed his arms and hunched his shoulders and muttered to himself about gray hairs and crow’s feet. Peter slipped his limbs into the floppy red fabric then tapped the spider symbol on his chest to shrink the costume down, cinching it to his narrow frame. 

“I promise I’ll be more careful,” Spider-Man insisted, rubbing gingerly at his side.

“Oh, wow—haven’t heard that one before,” Tony grumbled.

“You have nothing to worry about, Mr. Stark,” Johnny chirped, slinging an arm around Peter’s neck. “Spidey and I will lay low and stay grounded for the next few days. No more bullet wounds or backflips or web-swingings of any kind; you have my word.”

Tony dragged his hands down his face with a weary groan. “Sure. If you say so. Whatever. I seriously need a drink. FRIDAY. Whiskey. Now, please.”

“A rosemary tea with honey is steeping on your office desk as we speak,” the A.I. replied.

“Screw you, FRIDAY.”

“You’re the one who instructed me to make you tea anytime you requested an alcoholic beverage,” FRIDAY reminded him.

Tony huffed. “Screw you, me.”

The friendly arm draped across Peter’s shoulders suddenly tightened into a semi-threatening chokehold. “You’re welcome, asshole,” Johnny growled, sotto voce. “Thanks for lying to my face.”

Peter clenched his jaw, trying to focus on anything other than the feeling of Johnny’s perfectly toned arm muscles coiled against his throat. “I’m sorry, all right? I didn’t mean to. I was just…” Images of freckled skin bathed in summer sunshine looped like a powerpoint in his mind. He swallowed. “Er…distracted.” 

The corners of Johnny’s mouth lifted a little. “Well. Seeing how I’m now responsible for keeping you out of trouble, let’s not pull that shit again, yeah?”

Peter scoffed. “You do realize you’ve been the primary cause of all the trouble I’ve gotten into as of late, right?” 

“All the more reason for me to stop you from getting into more,” Johnny countered smoothly. “We’ve braved some of the most daunting situations two people could ever face together over the past couple days. Things can only go up from here, right?”

A loud ringing sound from inside Peter’s backpack bulldozed through their conversation. Peter pulled out his phone to find he had an incoming call—from May Parker.

“It’s my aunt,” Spider-Man stated, a small spindle of nerves scribbling up his throat. Immediately, he clicked the answer button, knowing better than to send her to voicemail. If she was calling because she was upset about something, always better to face it right away than to give her anger more time to stew. Hopefully it was just an update on how the convention was going, a quick chat about what they’d been up to, that kind of thing. Nothing to worry about. So long as he played it cool and didn’t mention being shot, everything would be fine. He held the phone up to his ear. 

“Hey, May,” he said hesitantly. “Uh, what’s up?”

“You were SHOT?” 

Peter flinched away from the speaker, his aunt’s voice exploding from the phone like a pipe bomb, skewering him with shards of terror. His eyes snapped towards Johnny and Stark; his jaw hung open, practically grazing the floor.

“I…I…uh…”

Stark spun away from him, marching towards the exit with his hands raised in submission. “This one’s on you, kid. I warned yah. Don’t come crying to me. You’re on your own.”

May continued yelling at him through the phone, forcing Peter to block the speaker with his hand for fear she’d start referring to him by name—followed by a horrifying string of New York-style expletives. While Spider-Man pored frantically over what to do, Johnny started snickering behind his palm. Peter turned on him in disbelief.

“You’re laughing?” he exclaimed. Johnny shook his head, giggling even more.

“Sorry, haha! It’s just—you’re Spider-Man, and you’re in so much trouble. All these people think you’re this evil menace, when you’re really just a kid getting grounded and scolded like every other teenager in America. If only they knew!” Johnny’s eyes brightened suddenly as he held up his phone. “Speaking of, should I be recording this?”

Peter grappled for the device in Johnny’s hand. “Dude! Don’t you dare!”

“Johnathan Spencer Storm.”

Johnny went rigid, his wide smile morphing into a grimace. Sue and Reed stood in front of the med bay doors, the Invisible Woman looking a tad red in the face and Mr. Fantastic tense and nervous. Although still drowning in fear from his aunt’s muffled shouts against his palm, Peter took a second to savor karma’s sweet sting. 

“Ha,” Peter taunted him, giving Johnny a light shove in the back. “Serves you right.” Johnny shrugged him off with a scowl.

“Shut up,” he grumbled. “I’ll come find you after I deal with this. We gotta discuss Spidey’s next big social media stunt.”

A crafty gleam entered his eye as Johnny said that last part. To Peter’s surprise, Johnny stepped forward suddenly and bundled him into a last-second hug, sending volts of electricity tingling through his belly. 

“Sorry about all this,” Johnny added softly. “I’ll be more careful the next time I post or talk about you and make sure not to mention things like you getting shot—which, by the way, better not happen ever again.”

Peter grasped for something cool and chill and witty to say in reply, but it was no use. The only thoughts his brain could articulate while pressed this close to Johnny Storm were warm and smell nice and me like hug and please never let go. 

“Sounds Gucci,” was the moronic buffoonery he eventually squeaked out. He wrapped his arms around Johnny’s back and held him tight: resting his forehead against his shoulder, breathing in deep, and soaking him in. This was the closest he’d ever get to being more than friends with him, so he had to relish every second he got.

“Johnny.”

Lanced with sudden bashfulness, Spider-Man jerked out of Johnny’s embrace. How had he forgotten about the two other superheroes glowering at them from across the room so quickly? Well, one glowering superhero, anyway—Reed Richards wasn’t staring at them with any animosity in his gaze, but rather a quiet curiosity. For some reason, Peter found this even more unsettling. 

“All right!” the Human Torch snapped, whirling on his sister. Tiny flames bubbled across his skin. “I’m coming, okay? Jesus!” He turned back to Spider-Man and prodded his chest with his finger. “Stay grounded until I get back. The two of us are in enough hot water already.”

A curt laugh escaped him. “No kidding,” Peter mumbled. A fresh bout of angry ranting erupted from the phone in his hand, making him jump a little and almost drop it. Wincing, Peter pointed to the cracked screen. “Sorry, I gotta—”

“Same,” Johnny sighed, jogging towards his teammates. “I’ll catch yah later, ‘kay? Good luck with your aunt!”

Peter nodded and waved. “Thanks. Write a nice eulogy for me if this goes as well as I’m anticipating.”

Johnny giggled as Sue corralled him through the exit. “Will do.” 

Once the room was clear, Peter reluctantly lifted his hand off the speaker, and was met with the verbal ass-whooping of a lifetime.

“—even listening to me? Are you trying to give me a goddamn heart attack? If you don’t answer in the next five seconds, I’m hopping on the next bus to New York and coming home this instant so I can ground you until the day I die and cram a baseball bat straight up Tony’s lying, irresponsible, egotistical—”

“May!” Peter cut in helplessly. “Please! I was in front of a bunch of people who don’t know my secret identity! I couldn’t say anything until they left the room.”

“Are they gone now?” she shot back, words sharp as talons. Peter bunched his limbs in close to his body.

“Yes,” he answered miserably.

“Good. ‘Cuz it’s explanation time, buddy. Now. Go.”

Peter pinched his eyes closed, wondering how he could possibly spell out everything that had happened since she’d left without sounding like a reckless douchebag of a nephew, or fully chucking Mr. Stark under the bus. He hung his head, slipping the Spider-Man mask off his face.

“I’m sorry, May. I should’ve told you. It all happened so fast, and I hate making you worry while you're busy with F.E.A.S.T. stuff. I’m on the mend now and hoped I could get away with not having to burden you with this.”

“A bold feat, considering your famous new friend’s affinity for talking about you being shot on multiple different live media platforms, and the fact I probably have more Google alerts on for your alter ego than all of your enemies combined.”

The depth of Peter’s stupidity drizzled over him like boiling coffee. The teen gave a cheerless laugh, palming his face in his hand. “Right. God. Really didn’t think this one through at all, did I?”

“No, sweetheart. You really didn’t.”

The pair marinated in a long stretch of silence. Guilt chewed through Peter’s guts like maggots. May heaved a weighty sigh from the other end of the line.

“I’m always going to worry about you getting hurt, Peter,” she insisted, voice stern yet brittle. “There’s nothing either of us can do to stop that. But what I absolutely do not need added to that worry is the fear that you’re keeping things from me. Do you understand?”

Peter cupped his wounded side, skin still stinging from the freshly stitched sutures. Her words carried far more bite than she could ever know. 

“Yes, May,” he said meekly.

“When did you even start hanging out with that guy? How did the two of you meet?”

Alarm plastered the walls of Peter’s throat. “Johnny? Oh, uh—just a few days ago. Mr. Stark invited his team to stay at the tower for a bit.” Immediately, he backtracked. “But please don’t blame any of this on them. Stark just found out about me getting shot right before you did, and Johnny protected me from getting hurt even worse. They’re not at fault here—just me.”

May’s voice came through pained and wobbly. “You promised me you’d stay safe and keep me updated while I was gone,” she said.

Shame tore into the young hero like glass. Peter Parker bit the inside of his cheek and tucked his free arm beneath his aching ribs. Just rip my heart right outta my chest, why don’t you? Nothing made Peter feel shittier than when he made his aunt cry. This was the first major test of their dynamic as super-powered kid and scared but encouraging guardian . Despite her uncertainty about it, May had agreed to let him continue fighting crime in her absence—so long as he kept her up to date on everything going on. And how had he thanked her for her unwavering trust and support? By betraying her the second the opportunity presented itself. What was he thinking, hiding this from her? He hadn’t been thinking; whatever loopy pain meds Stark had injected him with paired with Johnny’s zany teasing had made sure of that. 

“This business summit is turning into a shit-show,” May continued tearfully. “None of my presentations have gone how I’ve hoped, half my team isn’t here because of a strep outbreak, and I feel completely unprepared and inexperienced compared to everyone else. Now I come to find out my kid has been shot and didn’t even tell me?” A small sniffle escaped her. “Maybe I should just come home…”

His aunt’s words cut him to his core. What could he say to make this better? What could he do to bring the light back into her voice?

Peter thought back to that last time he’d scared and disappointed her this badly. It was before May had even known he was Spider-Man. He’d been so busy tracking down the Vulture and dealing with the aftermath of the ferry he’d accidentally split in two, he’d wound up ignoring her calls all day and getting home way past his curfew. He’d never seen her that upset before, and never wanted to put her in that position ever again.

How had he made things better then? She’d been pretty standoff-ish for the next week. He’d kept his head down, caught up on his studies, gave up on Spider-Manning since he was sans his suit for the time being. It was only when he told her about a certain Academic Decathlon captain he’d asked to go with him to the Homecoming dance that the old May he knew and loved finally showed her face again.

She’d always been embarrassingly invested in her nephew’s budding romances and teenage love life, despite how uneventful they tended to be. Few things on earth brought her more joy than hearing about Peter’s latest infatuations and offering him advice on how to win their affection. Now that she knew he was a superhero, that interest had increased tenfold. Fortunately for Peter, nothing of significance had happened since his short and tumultuous fling with Liz. 

Until now, anyway. Which gave him an idea…

“I’m so sorry, May—for all of it. I really messed up. I won’t keep anything like this from you again, okay? Just please don’t leave yet. You fought so hard to be there; you deserve to be there. Don’t let my dumbassery ruin this for you.” He licked his lips, nerves buzzing to a fever pitch. He just had to hint at it. He didn’t have to say who or when or even what . All he had to do was reference just enough to shift her focus from her nephew’s irresponsibility and the stress of the conference to Peter’s hot new heartthrob.

Was this manipulative? Probably. Stupid? Absolutely so. But if it succeeded in cheering her up a little, Peter called that a win.

“The main reason I didn’t tell you about what happened was ‘cuz…” Peter swallowed. “Because my head’s been all over the place, and I’ve been really distracted lately.” 

May paused to blow her nose before responding. “What do you mean?” she asked. “Distracted by what?”

Frighteningly familiar warmth spread like wildfire across his skin. Peter shot anxious glances around the room to make absolutely certain the coast was clear, then huffed out a defeated breath.

“I kinda…have a crush on someone…” he mumbled, blush crawling into his cheeks. He couldn’t believe he was already telling another person about this after having just confessed to Ned a few hours ago, but his aunt clearly needed the pick-me-up. Besides—it wasn’t like he was planning on coming out to her just yet. 

It was almost comical how well his evil scheme worked. When his aunt finally responded, all the exhaustion and sadness had been sapped from her voice, replaced instead with beaming delight. 

“What?” she exclaimed. “A crush? Oh my god! Peter! It’s been forever since you’ve had a crush! I’ve been dying for you to find someone new after Liz, and you choose to wait ‘til I’m shipped off to New Jersey to finally find one?” 

Peter giggled sheepishly in spite of himself. Although his aunt’s obsession with his dating life was patronizing at times, her enthusiasm was entertaining to indulge and incredibly contagious. He knew she was smiling the biggest, giddiest smile right now, and Peter couldn’t help but do the same. The two of them were so close and always spoke so openly with each other, it was easy to forget they had no actual blood relation.  

“Sorry. Believe me—this was not something I planned on at all.”

Technically not a lie, he reminded himself. Speaking vague truths felt better than outright fibbing. He vowed to be as honest as he could without digging himself into an inescapable hole.

“How dare you spring this on me while I’m supposed to be mad at you,” May chastised him, unable to shake the elation from her tone. “You know how excited I get about this sort of thing.”

Peter scratched the back of his neck. Damn . She sure caught onto him quick. 

“I was gonna wait until you got back,” he explained, voice tinted with mischief, “but it sounded like you needed to hear it now.” 

Also not a lie, he thought. It wasn't like he expected to keep her in the dark forever. 

“Well, don’t leave me hanging here, kiddo!” she said. “May needs details!”

Sudden uncertainty lassoed his tongue. How could he describe him in all his charming, wily, flaming glory without saying—well, him? It was possible Peter hadn’t thought this through as much as he should have.

“Uh—like what?” Peter stammered out, stalling for more time.

“Everything!” May pressed him. “When did this start, how did it happen, what’s the plan to get you two together?”

Peter felt a small flutter stir inside him. Should I just tell her? he thought, nervous excitement surging through his veins. Why shouldn’t I? What harm could it do? There wasn’t a universe he could imagine where May turned her back on him—no matter what he did or who he was or the kind of person his heart chose to love. She’d told him a thousand times over: she’d always be there for him. Plus, Peter hated having to lie to her. He’d already shattered her trust in him once; if he could find it in himself to swallow his fear and confess this daunting secret, maybe he could start to restore that trust, and prove to her how much faith and value he placed in their relationship. 

“We met pretty recently,” Peter ventured to say, nerves latching onto every word. “At Avengers Tower, a couple days after you left.”

True.

“You met as Peter, or as Spider-Man?” 

Sweat rallied between the palms of his hands and the fabric of his gloves. He switched the phone to his opposite ear and took a slow, shaky breath. Was he really about to do this?

“As Spider-Man, actually,” he said. “The two of us—we’re both superheroes.”

True.

“No kidding?” May responded emphatically. “How exciting! A superhero, star-crossed romance! I could see how that might get messy, though: mixing work and powers and secret identities into the already complex mayhem that is teenage dating.”

Peter croaked out a laugh. “Oh, for sure. I’ve already run into plenty of unanticipated drama because of it.” True. Now? Do I tell her now? “It’s all really new and kinda crazy. I’ve never dealt with anything like this before.” Also true. How do I wanna say it? I already did this once. Why is it still so hard? “I seriously doubt anything is ever actually going to happen between us but I’m—I’m really excited about it.” 

About him.

About him.

Just tell her the truth! Spit it out already!

“What’s this mystery superhero’s name?” May inquired. Peter sat stiffly on the medical cot, clenching and unclenching his fists. He gradually stilled his shivering legs. Dropped his shoulders away from his ears. Sucked his teeth to his lips. Shut his eyes. Set his jaw. Inhaled deep, then opened his mouth.

“Johnny. It’s Johnny Storm. He’s the person I have a crush on.”

Silence. More silence. An abnormal amount of silence. Peter gulped down hitched breaths, heart thundering like a freight train, the phone trembling a little in his hand.

“M-May? Hello? You there?”

A jumbled, staticky sound gargled from the speaker in response. Peter winced, holding the device away from his ear. A few seconds later, May’s voice garbled out of the phone in short, clipped segments, cutting in and out with only a few decipherable words finding their way through. 

“May?” Peter said again, nerves tearing at the seams. “Can you hear me?”

“—goddamn piece of shit, Jesus Christ,” was what he eventually heard her hiss when the connection was finally restored. “Sorry, Peter. My signal here is absolute garbage. I think our call got cut off for a second.”

“It’s okay,” he grated out, squirming a little in place. Another couple seconds passed, and he added: “Did—did you hear me? What I said?”

“No, I must’ve missed it. Go ahead, sweetheart! What’s her name?”

A cold feeling spread through the young superhero from the top of his head to the tips of his heels. He stared ahead blankly, ice trickling into his stomach. 

“What?” he barely managed to say. The word came out breathless and fractured. 

“The superhero girl! The one you said you have a crush on! You were telling me her name, right? Or did that part of our conversation cut out, too?”

Peter could feel his heartbeat throbbing inside his skull. Two words pounded against his brain like a pair of rubber mallets. 

Her, her, her, her .

Girl, girl, girl, girl. 

She didn’t know.

Duh. Of course she didn’t know. Why would she? He’d never…he’d always made it seem like…

Still. He wished she knew. Part of him felt blindsided that she didn’t.

Maybe she didn’t know him as well as himself or Ned or anyone else thought.

“Peter?” his aunt called, ripping him from the thoughts racing around his head at a thousand lightyears a second. “Are you there, hon? Is the connection still cutting out?”

Peter tried to speak, but was stunned to find his voice choked with tears. They stung his eyes and wet his cheeks and slipped down his neck in large, pathetic droplets. 

It took him a moment. Many moments. But one by one, he forced his mouth to form words.

“I…I think it might be,” he heard himself say. Lie. He wiped frantically at his eyes, stifled a sob, cleared his throat. “Um, anyway—Mr. Stark is actually asking for me to come join him in the lab now.” Lie. “You probably have big, fancy business meetings to get to that are way more important than this.” Lie. “I’ll call you back later, okay?” Lie. Lie. Lie. 

Aunt May sighed. “All right, sweetie. Ugh—stupid cell reception. You know I’m dying to hear everything about her! I’ll need the full play-by-play once I’m home next week. I love you! No more getting shot and not telling me please!”

Peter hung up before the tremble in his voice became too obvious to hide. He let the phone slide from his fingers into his lap, then sat in silence in the wide, empty room. The chilly air of the medical wing felt even more frigid than usual. His mask was draped across his knee, the eye lenses speckled with droplets. The only sounds were the quiet sniffles slipping through his defenses and the soft patter of tears against shatter-proof glass. 

Peter was confused, angry, hurt—but why , he wasn’t sure. 

He was confused with himself. Why was he borderline weeping over this? Why was this triggering such a visceral emotional response in him? She hadn’t cast him out or recoiled in disgust or anything like that; she’d just assumed the same thing everyone else assumed about him: that Peter liked girls, and girls alone. That’s all. Once he told her, she would know the truth. Simple as that. Shouldn’t he be relieved? Coming out for the first time to two different people in one day was a lot of pressure to put himself under. 

So why was crying? Why couldn’t he make himself stop?

He was angry at his cowardice, his naïveté, at the tears staining his cheeks. He was angry he had to tell his aunt outright for her to know him fully, but at the same time mad at the unrealistic expectations he was placing on her. The anger inside him churned as hot and violent as magma. He didn’t know where to put it.

Most of all, he was hurt. It was the kind of pain that pinched your entrails and mangled your heart and made your throat feel like it was caving in on itself. He didn’t have a name for it. He couldn’t understand its intensity or origin. He wanted it to let him go.

“Spidey! You still in here?”

Panicked, Peter flew from the bed and faced away from the doors, yanking the Spider-Man mask over his puffy eyes and splotchy face. He grounded himself with as steady a breath as he could muster as Johnny floated across the room and landed by his side. 

“That went slightly better than expected,” Johnny decided, now dressed in his skin-tight, deep blue Fantastic Four suit. “I think my sister is finally sorta somewhat warming up to the idea of you. You’ve been upgraded from ‘masked menace’ to ‘masked hooligan’ at least, which is a start. How about on your end? Did your aunt really grill you, or…hey. Are you okay?”

Peter cursed himself inside his head. What was the point in wearing a mask when people like Johnny could read him like an open book anyway? He turned towards the Human Torch with a dismal chuckle. 

“I’m good, yeah. That’s great. Really great. My aunt’s not mad anymore, either. Maybe I’m better at getting people to like me than I thought. I bet it’s my eccentric wit and rock-hard calves and rugged, unbridled sex appeal.”

Johnny’s frown didn’t budge an inch. “You’re doing it again,” he said. 

Peter rubbed at his eyes through the lenses of his mask. “Doing what?” he asked sullenly. 

“You know what,” Johnny snapped, crossing his arms against his chest. “Drop the stupid jokes, and tell me what’s wrong.”

“Ouch. I thought the sex appeal part was at least kinda funny. Tough crowd.” 

“Spidey. Come on. Seriously.”

“Y’know, ‘seriously’ isn’t really my vibe at the moment. How about peanut M&M’s and microwave popcorn and Brooklyn 99 and ignoring our problems instead?”

“Spider-Man.”

Taken aback, Peter couldn’t help but giggle. “Was that you trying to call me by my full name? I have to admit, it was rather unsettling. You almost sounded like one of my super villains. Add a bit more growl to that last syllable, and you’ve pretty much nailed it.”

Johnny scoffed incredulously, shaking his head in disbelief. “Wow. This is…just wow. You done now? Is it outta your system yet?”

“Yeah, that’s not how it works. I’m like a goat. I’ll just keep going and going until I die. And the longer I go, the harder it is to stop. Speaking of, ever heard the one where a goat and a sommelier walk into a bar?”

“Webs,” Johnny implored, grabbing him by the wrist. The touch sent tingles up Peter’s arm and down his spine. “Please.”

Virulent emotion threatened to claim him once again. What was the point? He couldn’t tell him what was wrong. Even if he wanted to, Peter doubted he was capable of fully articulating it. 

With a desolate sigh, the masked hero yielded, but he selected his words with an abundance of caution. “It’s whatever, all right?” he insisted. “My aunt just…doesn’t know me like I thought she did. And it’s not her fault, but…I don’t know. It surprised me a little, since she probably knows me better than anyone.”

“What doesn’t she know about you?” Johnny asked. When Peter didn’t answer, he switched the question to: “Have you ever told her the thing she doesn’t know about you?”

“No…” he said hesitantly.

An endearing smile touched Johnny’s lips and shone in his cobalt eyes. “Spidey. You can’t expect people to know things about you without showing them or telling them those things. That applies to your aunt and everyone else in the world. If you want people to know you as you are, you have to open up to them and share the stuff that’s important to you.”

The deep ache inside Peter gradually fell away, and an itchy irritation crept in to replace it. Grumbling, Peter stared off to the side, shoulders and fists held taut. “Would you stop making so much goddamn sense all the time?” he fake-pouted, a small laugh escaping him. “Could you, like, not have the answer to every single one of my problems for once in your life?”

Johnny returned his laughter, giving his arm a light squeeze. “You make it too easy, Webs,” he teased him. “This is why I think this silly social media stuff is so vital to restoring your image. If you don’t take control of your narrative and tell people who Spider-Man really is, they’re going to keep making assumptions about you that aren’t true.”

Peter studied the soft sincerity in Johnny’s expression, debilitating fondness blazing through him. He puffed out his cheeks. “Y’know, you could at least pretend to think I’m funny while I’m running through one of my conflict-avoidant stand-up comedy routines. Humor me just a smidge before gutting me like a fish.”

“I do think you're funny,” Johnny corrected him. The hand holding Peter’s wrist tugged him the teensiest bit closer, sending butterflies racing up Spider-Man’s throat. While he had him distracted, Johnny’s other hand found Peter’s rib cage and gave his uninjured side a quick pinch, making the young hero squeal in surprise and leap away. “But I’m not gonna laugh when you’re making jokes to hide your pain.”

“Hehey!” Peter giggled, blushing bright as a tomato as he hugged his midsection. “Johnny! I just got re-stitched!”

Johnny grinned wide and rolled his eyes. “Ugh. I’m counting down the days until you can’t use that as an excuse anymore. Then we’ll really see who’s better at getting the other person to laugh.”

He feigned a few deadly pokes to Peter’s belly to punctuate his threat, causing Spider-Man to stagger backwards frantically, giggling like a little kid.

“Quihit it!” he squeaked. “Now you’re the one not taking things seriously!”

“Oh, I’m dead serious,” Johnny assured him, a sinister glimmer in his eye. Spider-Man reddened even deeper, arms clamped protectively around his torso. Johnny backed off for the time being, although the devious smirk on his face remained. 

“I’m also dead serious about cleaning up your rep,” Johnny continued. “And I know the perfect event to host our next media blitz.”

Peter grimaced. “An event?” he repeated back. He didn’t like the sound of this already.

“That’s right,” Johnny said. He pulled out his phone and held it up for Peter to see. “The Fantastic Four is hosting a fan meet-up and photo-op thing in Central Park tomorrow at noon. The event is free, but we’re requesting donations for pictures and autographs and whatnot to raise money for local animal shelters.”

Peter blinked at the screen. This must’ve been the Johnny meet-and-greet Ned mentioned earlier, he thought. 

“I thought Spider-Man could make a surprise appearance. We can take some photos, charm the crowds, do a couple interviews with whatever press is there. It’ll be fun.”

Peter considered Johnny’s proposal and swallowed dryly. “That sounds like a pretty big leap from me showing up on your TikTok, don’t you think? I’m not sure I’m ready for that yet.” Spider-Man scratched the back of his arm, voice small and shy. “I’d rather just…y’know. Talk to you some more. Without a bunch of cameras or other people watching. We can do more livestreams and social media stuff, if you think that’ll help. But…I don’t feel comfortable doing this sort of thing with anyone else except you.” He winced, realizing how that sounded. “I mean—not yet, anyway.”

Before Johnny had a chance to respond, Peter spun away from him, stretching his arms above his head. “Besides! I, um—already have plans at that time tomorrow. Thanks for the invite, but I don’t think the rest of your team would appreciate me showing up out of the blue and crashing their fundraiser. I might scare off fans who came to make big contributions.”

Johnny paused, then snickered, his freckled nose crinkling up in the most disarmingly cute way. “First of all, you’re adorable. I’m honored to be the sole confidant you’re willing to trust with your public relations.”

Peter’s heart skipped in his chest like a stone across a raging river. He wondered if Johnny spoke to all his friends this way, or if it was just him. He hoped it was just him. 

“I think you mean paranoid and violently untrusting of news reporters,” Peter chuckled halfheartedly. 

“Maybe. But mostly adorable.” He forged ahead without missing a beat. “Second, I guarantee people are gonna be wanting to see more of you after today. Go check out the now-trending hashtag ‘friendly neighborhood Spider-Man’ on all your favorite social media platforms. In the hour since we went live, the internet has already gone absolutely beserk with people sharing their stories about you.” Johnny held up his index finger pointedly. “Not all of them are flattering, mind you—but an overwhelming majority. Not bad for my first time doing this, I’d say. It’d be great if we could ride that wave of excitement by posting more content tomorrow.”

Peter couldn’t help it. He broke into a laugh, shielding his mouth with his hand, making Johnny narrow his eyes.

“What?” he asked amusedly. “What’s funny?” His cheeks hinted a light pink color. 

“Nothing,” Peter giggled. “You just sound a lot like your sister right now.”

Immediately, Johnny’s jaw dropped. “What? I do not! How dare you say that! That’s like—the biggest insult you could ever possibly hit me with!”

“You told me she’s the one who handles your team’s PR and whatnot, right?” Peter reminded him. “Isn’t that kinda what you’re doing for me right now? Making sure I’m putting out a good image and appearing likable and trustworthy and all that stuff?”

“This is completely different,” Johnny insisted. “Sue works with marketing agencies and consulting firms and giant corporate sponsors to bolster our team’s image. You and I are just making fun videos on my TikTok and Twitter and Instagram pages. I wasn’t planning to throw a bunch of money at this by hiring trend experts or data analysts or graphic designers or anything.” A giddy twinkle flashed in his eyes. “Unless—did you want to do that, or—?”

“No, no,” Peter assured him. “Silly phone videos are much more my style. I’m just saying.” He nudged Johnny playfully with his elbow. “Maybe you and your sister are more alike than you think.”

Johnny’s scowl returned in an instant. “Go to hell, Webhead.”

For the second time that day, Peter was startled by his phone trilling loudly inside his backpack. Lucky for him, it was Ned this time, who was far less likely to yell at him or make him cry by accidentally pigeonholing him into compulsive heterosexuality. Not that he blamed May, of course. At least…he was trying not to.

“Popular today, aren’t yah?” Johnny noted.

“Yep. That’s what happens when the Human Torch gushes longingly about you on the Today Show and posts unsolicited pictures of you in your pajamas.”

As Johnny chuckled at his retort, Peter jabbed his thumb towards the elevator in the corner of the room. “I’m gonna take this on the roof. We can meet up after your fan event thingy tomorrow if you’re free then.”

The Human Torch met his gaze with a wickedly enchanting grin. “M’kay. Come ready to star in my next groundbreaking, fun-loving Spider-Man social media production. We gotta post at least once a day for the next week! No exceptions! And since you’re not allowed to do anything superhero-y anytime soon, don’t pretend like you’re too busy or have anything better to do! ‘Cuz I’ll know that’s bullshit.”

Peter offered him a two-fingered salute. “You’re the boss, Flame Brain. See yah!” He took a few steps towards the elevator but stopped suddenly in the center of the room, struck with a choice that rendered him blushing and paralyzed. There were a lot of things the request might imply, should he decide to follow through—nonetheless, Peter felt it was a necessary and inevitable progression for their relationship (both as friends or otherwise), and would allow for consistent communication between them. 

With all these divergent thoughts swirling around in his skull, Peter reluctantly made up his mind. He turned back around and strode up to Johnny, the words sputtering nervously off his lips.

“Could I—I mean—w-would you mind—?” He shook his head, took a breath, and tried again, extending his hand. “Just—give me your phone. Please.”

Johnny blinked at the masked hero bemusedly, then held out the device with a chuckle. “Okay…?” he said warily. 

Peter took the phone and navigated to Johnny’s contact list, anxiously but determinedly adding his number to the roster under the name “Webhead” along with all the spider-related emojis he could find. He looked it over, once, twice, nodded to himself, then handed the device back to the Human Torch, shoulders tight and voice a tad shrill. “There. Now you can reach me anytime you need for whatever reason—whether you’re being attacked by Russian mobsters or want to run any more embarrassing content ideas by me before posting them on the internet forever or if you’re about to supernova yourself into oblivion and need someone to come help you—y’know, um, not do that.”

Johnny studied him with a look of delighted fascination. He plucked the phone from Spider-Man’s fingers and grinned at the screen. “I imagine someone like you doesn’t give out his number to others very often—especially those who don’t know your real identity.” He glanced up at him with a blindingly sunny smile. “I’m happy you’re trusting me with it. I don’t take that lightly.”

There was playful, teasing Johnny, and then there was this Johnny: insightful, sensitive, and earnest. Both were equally fruitful at transforming Peter Parker into a puddle of melted goop.

“No booty calls on weekdays,” Peter joked shyly. “I’m a spider of class and dignity.”

The loud yodeling ringtone belted from his phone yet again, making Spider-Man flinch. In his distracted, excitable state, he must’ve missed Ned’s initial call. If his friend was this determined to get through to him, he must’ve seen Johnny’s livestream and the overwhelming online response and be absolutely dying to talk to him about it.

“You’d better take that,” Johnny suggested.

Peter nodded. “Right. Okay. Cool. Great.” The young hero turned and skipped across the room, floating on the high of his uncharacteristic bravery. He giggled to himself, then threw Johnny a wave. “Catch yah later!” He answered Ned’s call and started to speak as he stepped into the elevator, then second guessed himself. “Whoops. I shouldn’t—bad connection in there. I’ll just—” he skirted towards the doorway instead with a skittish laugh in Johnny’s direction. “—take the stairs. Yep. Uh, yeah, so...bye! Again!” 

Johnny watched Spider-Man’s nervous and clumsy exit with an air of intrigue. He’d learned those characteristics were indicative of his nature, and normally not worth making note of. But in light of the conversation he’d just had with his teammates, and the jarring words Reed had left him with, he was inclined to dissect the webhead’s behavior with a far keener eye.

When the masked hero was gone, Johnny revisited the chat between himself, his sister, and her boyfriend in his head, and felt the gears of yearning and possibility start to tick, tick, tick into place. Maybe there was some hope for the two of them after all. Maybe he wasn’t as delusional as he’d once thought.

“What’s it gonna be this time, sis? Another stern talking to? Benching me for the next three missions? A new curfew we both know I’m not going to follow?”

Susan responded by shoving Johnny’s Fantastic Four costume into his chest. “Put that on,” she demanded. “For future reference, Tide pods do nothing for blood stains. Baking soda and warm water is your best bet.”

Johnny reddened in surprise, then begrudgingly slipped into the freshly laundered suit. He’d hidden it after hours of failed scrubbing and soaking with a plan to try dry cleaning next, but as always, Sue was faster and smarter than him. He crossed his arms and furrowed his brow once he was fully dressed, avoiding both adults’ hard stares.  

“Was any of that blood yours?” Reed asked.

“No,” Johnny grumbled. “We punched a lot of kidnappers, so some of it could’ve been theirs. But 99% of it was probably Spider-Man’s.” The Human Torch leered at him. “You know, because he got shot while saving two kids yesterday? Did you black out during my whole heartfelt testimony this morning? Or are you convinced as usual that I’m just making shit up?”

“I believe you,” Richards assured him calmly. “We just wanted to make sure you weren’t injured.”

Johnny’s biting tone wavered. He glanced between the two of them, noticing the lines of worry in both their faces, then gingerly lowered his gaze. “I’m fine,” he mumbled, rolling his shoulder a bit. By now the ache from colliding with the pavement was nearly gone. 

“And is he?” Sue asked in a thin voice. “Spider-Man?”

Johnny scoffed bitterly. “Like you care.”

“We do care, Johnny,” Reed insisted. “None of us want to see anyone around here getting hurt. And based on the amount of blood we had to scrub out of your suit, it must’ve been really bad. I’m stunned your friend isn’t in the ICU after sustaining a wound that severe.”

A hum of surprise trilled within Johnny at Reed’s choice of words. Friend. He called him my friend. 

“We saw the police footage of the people you were up against,” Sue continued, shaking her head, eyes sharp with fear. “Those were some seriously dangerous men, Johnny.”

The Human Torch grimaced, waiting for the lecture to start. Susan swallowed, then exhaled through her nose.

“Listen,” his sister grated out. “I’m proud of you for stopping those thugs and saving those kids.” She spoke the words as if they physically hurt her to say. 

Johnny’s eyebrows crawled towards his hairline. “Really?”

“Yes,” she snapped. “Really.”

Johnny narrowed his eyes, then gestured to Richards. “Did he put you up to this?”

“No one put me up to anything,” Susan shot back. “I mean it. You were outnumbered by a very scary opponent, but you took them down and got the civilians out unharmed. Before I say anything else, I wanted to make sure you knew that.” 

Johnny was taken aback to say the least. His sister was not one to hand out compliments to him easily—especially in conversations that weren’t going to be broadcast as promotional content for the team. But he wasn’t ready to let her off the hook just yet. 

“In that case, you should be proud of Spider-Man, too,” Johnny retorted. “He was the one who got the kids out safely. And he saved my life!”

“Which brings me to the next thing we need to address,” Susan said plaintively. “You cannot go off to fight bad guys on your own without your team there to support you—especially bad guys of that caliber.”

“I wasn’t alone,” Johnny reminded her. Sue’s face twisted in frustration.

“And if Spider-Man did save your life, that means he put your life in danger in the first place. No 16-year-old should be off fighting psycho mafia child-traffickers armed with weapons of war they got from—god knows where, without their adult teammates backing them, or—hell, even knowing about it. Do you hear me?”  

Johnny gazed at his sister numbly. “How about two 16-year-olds?” he proposed.

Susan frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The Human Torch pursed his lips, then cursed himself under his breath. Spider-Man had shared his age with him in confidence. He doubted the webhead wanted him telling anyone else about it—especially other superheroes. But Johnny assumed one of the reasons Sue didn’t like them hanging out together was because she thought Spider-Man was a grown adult. Maybe if she knew the truth, she wouldn’t be so hard on him. Maybe a lot of people wouldn’t. 

It wasn’t his place to tell. But Johnny could already see the realization materializing across Reed’s face. An acrimonious breath escaped him. Too late now. 

“We’re the same age,” Johnny explained. “Spider-Man and I. We’re both sixteen.”

Sue’s eyes widened. “He—you’re telling me you’ve seen his face? You know his real identity?”

Johnny shook his head impatiently. “No, he just—told me. He’s told me a bunch of stuff about himself. The two of us have a lot in common.”

The crease in Susan’s brow returned in record time. “Oh. So you don’t actually know, then. You’re just assuming he’s telling the truth and taking his word for it? Do you know how shady that sounds, Johnny?”

“He’s not lying!” Johnny shouted, fire flashing from his fists. “And if you spent two seconds actually getting to know him, you’d know that! Why don’t either of you ever believe me about anything?”

“It’s not you we’re doubting,” Reed said gently. “It’s just…difficult for us to fully trust someone who’s so secretive all the time. Please understand that our only concern is your safety and wellbeing.”

“Is Spider-Man also the one who told you to make those insane accusations against Wilson Fisk on your livestream?” Susan asked coldly. “Is that another thing you just accepted as fact because he told you it was true?”

Johnny flushed, trying to conjure a sufficient response. “He…he told me those kidnappers work for Fisk,” he said reluctantly. “Spidey didn’t want me to say anything about it, but if Fisk is really funding a human trafficking ring while running for mayor, I thought the world needed to know how dangerous he is.”

“And do you have any proof that that’s the case?” Sue countered. “Anything at all that connects Fisk to those men you fought?”

Johnny tried to extinguish the flames creeping up his arms and fizzling off his scalp, but his increasing frustration was making it impossible. When he couldn’t find an answer, Susan scoffed, shaking her head.

“Wilson Fisk is a pinnacle of industry and influence in this community. He’s the only candidate running for mayor who’s directly voiced his support for the Fantastic Four and promised to work with us if he wins the election. If you’re going to accuse him of something that despicable, you better have fucking indisputable evidence before you open your mouth and make an enemy of one of the most powerful people in New York.”

Johnny swallowed, shame radiating off him in swells of searing heat. He hated to admit it, but Sue was right. Even if Fisk was guilty, defacing his name on his TikTok page with no proof to back his claims was idiotic and counterproductive to everything both his team and Spider-Man were working towards. He shouldn’t have spoken so carelessly.

“You’re going to delete the livestream,” Susan instructed him.

“I already cut the part about Fisk out,” Johnny mumbled. “Spider-Man made me.”

“And you’re going to issue a public apology stating you were misinformed on the situation and won’t be spreading unfounded conspiracy theories about public figures ever again.”

Johnny glared at his feet, hands balled tight at his sides. “What if I’m not misinformed?” he said quietly. “What if Spider-Man is right about him?”

“Then Spider-Man has a lot of investigating to do before either of you mention anything about it ever again. For now, you’re apologizing. The publicist will send the copy to you tomorrow to post after the fundraising event.”

A queasy feeling bled through Johnny’s insides. The idea of begging for forgiveness from someone whose henchmen were responsible for wounding Spider-Man so badly felt like such a betrayal to the webhead. If there was any way he could opt out of uploading that post tomorrow, he’d make it happen.

“I don’t have the time or patience to babysit you 24/7 right now,” Susan said wearily. “If you want to waste more time running around with that masked hooligan, I’m not going to stop you.”

“Good,” Johnny said smugly. “‘Cuz that’s exactly what I plan to do.”

“But I won’t tolerate you going off to fight an army of Russian mobsters without giving us a head’s up,” she clarified, “or making baseless accusations that threaten the integrity of our team. Got it?”

Johnny huffed, giving his sister a sardonic curtsy. “Aye aye, captain. Whatever keeps the stakeholders happy.”

Sue rolled her eyes as she turned away from him, marching towards her and Reed’s guest room. “Be at the great lawn by 11 tomorrow,” she called over her shoulder. “Don’t be late. And please look presentable.”

“That’s all you keep me around for, right?” Johnny hollered back. “Looking hot while I pose for photos and sign autographs and keep my mouth shut on anything that actually matters?” 

His remark earned a groan from his sister before she stepped into her room and slammed the door behind her, leaving Johnny quite pleased with himself for getting the last word in.

The Human Torch expected Richards to tuck tail after Susan like he always did, or request for the hundredth time that he cut his elder sibling a little slack. Instead, he stayed rooted in place, eyeing Johnny like a new species of amoeba he was studying under a microscope. Johnny regarded his sister’s boyfriend with a loutish glare. 

“Go ahead,” Johnny muttered. “Tell me again how she’s only hard on me because she cares and wants to keep me safe and blah, blah, blah…”

Reed shot a glance back at the door, then broke into a hesitant smile. “Actually,” Richards said. “I was more interested in discussing your little friend a bit more—perhaps without Sue’s well-intentioned but rather harsh convictions on the matter preventing you from speaking openly.”

Johnny blinked, caught off guard, to say the least. “Um,” he said, trying to track where he was headed with this. “Okay?”

Reed placed his hands on his hips and tilted his head to the side. “So…Spider-Man,” he mused. “You like him, don’t you?” 

Tiny fires flared at the tips of Johnny’s ears. “I…what?” he stammered, voice cracking in the most heinously telling way. “Who told you that?” Reed grinned.

“No one. Call it an educated guess. I was sixteen once too, you know. Nobody at your age is as slick as they think.”

Reed Richards and Johnny Storm had always had an awkward gap in their relationship. Being his older sister’s on-and-off boyfriend for the past couple of years and now the co-founder of their superhero team tended to put a damper in their geniality. Reed tried his best to toe the line between being there for Johnny in the ways he needed without overstepping into attempted paternal territory, knowing well it wasn’t his role to fill. But showing an interest in his romantic life—and catching on to Johnny’s infatuation with someone when he was trying his best not to flaunt it—was, in fact, a first for him. Johnny found himself blundering for words, a growing blaze of panic catching fire in his chest.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Reed assured him. “But I’m convinced your sister already knows, and—unsurprisingly—does not approve.”

Johnny crossed his arms tight to his chest, giving a short, rigid shrug. “And what about you?” he asked. “What do you think?”

Richards smiled. “I’m surprised you care.”

“I don’t,” Johnny said immediately, then swallowed. “But…is it really that obvious?”

Reed chuckled. “Yeah. Kinda. I can’t say I trust the guy as much as I’d like to, but…no way he’s as crazy as the news or Susan is imagining. From what I’ve seen, he seems like a decent kid.” A smirk tugged at his lip. “And I can see the appeal. You’ve always had a thing for the mysterious masked rebel types.”

Johnny fought back a giggle, mostly at the thought of how excited Spidey would be knowing Reed had described him that way. But his laughter quickly turned hollow.

“And the kind that’ll never like me back,” he added morosely. Reed’s face fell, and Johnny’s shoulders slumped. “Sue says I’m just making the same mistake I did with Sam all over again, and I’ll only end up breaking my heart a second time. And it sucks, ‘cuz I know deep down she’s right, but…this feels different. He’s different. He’s just…ugh.”

Johnny scrunched up his features and clawed aggressively at his scalp, disheveling his rose-gold locks into a scruffy jumble atop his head. “Spidey’s just…he’s one of the most selfless people I’ve ever met. It’s like he’s completely blind to his own struggles and safety but hyper-aware of everyone else’s—which is really sweet, but also annoying as fuck. He sees so much good in the world and is so passionate about helping others even though so many people try to paint him as a villain. He knows how to make people laugh even at their lowest point: when they’re scared or confused or in pain. And whenever I’m able to get him to laugh, let me tell you…” Johnny chuckled to himself at the thought of it. “It’s like straight serotonin, the sound of it. Literally the cutest, most addictive thing ever. Nothing beats the feeling of when I get a big laugh out of him—which isn’t exactly hard, but that doesn’t make it any less fun.” 

The smile on Johnny’s face was so wide as he spoke, it almost hurt. “Spidey may seem closed-off and mysterious from the outside,” he went on, “but once you get to know him, you realize he’s actually the biggest goddamn dork in the entire world. He talks super-duper fast and has a crazy quick wit—especially when he’s anxious or dealing with something he doesn’t want you to worry about. He’s an insanely smart science nerd just like you and Sue and can rant about molecules and substances I can’t pronounce for hours. He puts on this quippy, confident front most of the time, but he’s a surprisingly shy and insecure person.” Johnny scoffed. “And despite it all, he still makes me nervous. Can you believe that? It’s infuriating. Johnny Storm does not get nervous; everyone else is supposed to get nervous around me. But I can’t help it. I’m like a blushing, bumbling idiot around him. I don’t think he knows the effect he has on people. I don’t think he understands how incredible and brave and inspiring he really is. I just want everyone to see him the way I do. Even if there’s zero chance of him ever liking me how I like him, I have to get the world to understand why Spider-Man deserves to be admired and appreciated and loved.” 

Johnny’s saccharine grin withered into nothing. “I won’t lose another friendship by forcing my feelings onto someone who doesn’t like me back. He means too much to me. So…” Johnny shrugged pitifully. “If I can’t be with him, I can at least give him this.”

When the Human Torch saw the expression Reed was wearing and realized how long he’d been carrying on about the webhead, he felt his hair crackle like a campfire. Richards and him didn’t talk much about stuff like this, despite Mr. Fantastic’s relentless and embarrassing efforts to deepen their flimsy bond. Why was he suddenly pouring his heart out and spilling his guts to a man whose mousy nature and nauseating devotion to his cold and callous sister had always made Johnny want to broil him like a Thanksgiving turkey? Reed blinked at the teen hero slowly, stinging sympathy lifting the corners of his mouth.

“Wowza,” he said. “You’re down bad, kiddo. How long have you known this guy again? Like, five days?”

Johnny dropped his face into his hands, steaming with embarrassment. “Shut up,” he giggled.

“And you really don’t know who he is?”

Drearily, Johnny shook his head.

“But…you still like him? Like, like him, like him?”

The Human Torch hesitated, then nodded, face still smothered behind his palms. Reed chuckled.

“All right. In that case, here’s my two cents: I can’t speak to Spider-Man’s character or his trustworthiness or—hell, if it’s even mathematically appropriate for you two to date. But what I can say is this: if you have no concerns or reservations about him other than your assumption that he doesn’t like you back, you may need to reevaluate your deductive reasoning skills.”

Johnny lifted his head from his hands, searching Reed’s expression with wide, dubious eyes. “What are you saying?” he asked. 

Richards shrugged, failing to stifle a knowing smirk. “Look, I don’t know what Susan or anyone else has told you,” he conceded, “but between you and me, I don’t think Spider-Man is straight.”

Johnny felt his pulse climb to a deafening thunder. He inched closer to his teammate, stuttering through a frazzled, nonsensical reply. “Wait, you—w-what do you—how—?”

“And the reason I think that,” Reed continued, clearly enjoying himself, “is because I’m very convinced he has a similar infatuation with you as you do him.”

“Hold on,” Johnny stammered hoarsely, throwing his hands in the air. “Slow down. Why are you saying this? Where is this even coming from?”

“As I’ve watched you two interact these past few days, his observable behaviors have not been unlike the very ones you’ve exhibited towards him, which clued me into your possible feelings for Spider-Man as well as his own for you. Between you and Nova, the mania was as evident as day a one-sided affair. But I’m not extrapolating that same conjecture from your current fixation.”

“Why do you have to say everything so weird?” Johnny whined indignantly. “Just tell me in normal-people words what the hell you’re talking about!”

Reed sighed. “You said you get nervous around him, right? It seems to me he also gets very nervous when you’re around him. Higher voice pitch, faster talking speed, restlessness, fidgeting, laughing excessively. I don’t recall Sam ever acting like that when you two were together. Pretty incriminating evidence if you ask me.”

“That’s just…how Spidey is,” Johnny tried to explain. “Y’know—an anxious, giggly, fidgety person. Plus, he’s like, physically incapable of making himself shut the fuck up.”

Richards smiled. “And you’re sure he’s all those things all the time, or just when he’s with you?”

Johnny bristled. “I’m…yeah. Pretty sure.” He paused to ground himself, combing his fingers through his hair, crushing his feelings of excitement and hope into dust beneath his heel. “Look. It’s useless, okay? Spidey already mentioned dating a girl before. He’s straight. That’s that. End of discussion.”

“Weren’t you a serial girl-dater all the way up until the sixth grade?” Reed pointed out. “Does that make you any less of the flaming homosexual you are today?”

Johnny grimaced. “Okay, first things first—don’t ever say anything like that ever again.”

Reed chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. “Fair enough.”

“Second, that was pre-pubescent Johnny. Spider-Man was talking about taking a girl to his school’s homecoming dance last year. He’s never mentioned anything about liking or dating guys.”

“It is possible he only recently came to realize his attraction to the same gender,” Reed proposed. “People can also be attracted to more than one gender. Just because he recently dated a girl or likes girls doesn’t automatically disqualify him from liking boys, too.”

Johnny stood very still as he flipped back through his carefully curated collection of notes on the wall-crawler, which adorned the inside of brain like an elaborate tapestry. He analyzed and shuffled and highlighted important subtext. He strung threads between moments and jotted down little comments beneath entries. Could Reed be right? Had he missed something? Was it possible that Spider-Man actually liked him back?

“I can’t make you any guarantees,” Reed added, tearing Johnny from his mental investigation. “And I won’t pretend I have any advice on how you should approach the situation with your sister or with Spider-Man. But if you like him, and you believe he’s as good and honest and—well, cute—as you claim, and the only thing holding you back is your fear of unreciprocated affection…” Reed smiled warmly. “I think you should go for it. You might be surprised by his response.”

Johnny’s stomach was in fluttering, queasy knots. He had no idea what to do with Richards’ insights. The man was rarely wrong when it came to scientific hypotheses or analytical geometric theorems. But as for his gaydar? Johnny wasn’t ready to enrapture himself with fantasies of what he and Spider-Man could be based solely on Reed’s fleeting observations. Reed Richards was no Chris Harrison when it came to playing queer matchmaker for his girlfriend’s little brother.

Johnny wet his lips and scratched behind his ear. “I’ll um…I’ll think about it,” was the reply he eventually settled on. 

Reed beamed, the corners of his eyes crinkling behind his glasses. “Wonderful.”

Red-faced, and unsure what to say next, Johnny spun on his heels to leave. But he stopped with a hand on the door, speaking softly without meeting Reed’s gaze.

“You really didn’t tell her to say that?”

Richards frowned at the back of Johnny’s head. “Hmm?” he prompted him.

“Sue. You swear you didn’t tell her to say she’s proud of me?”

Reed’s features eased into a pained smile. “Yes, Johnny. It took a little encouragement from my end for her to go through with it, but I promise it was her idea. Not mine.”

Johnny swallowed thickly. “You think she meant it?”

Richards nodded. “I do. And for what it’s worth, I feel the same.”

Johnny fought back a smile, then rolled his eyes with a melodramatic groan. “You’re both so embarrassing,” he lamented. “God. Don’t you have something mind-numbingly boring and gag-inducing to get to? Like—I dunno—winning the Nobel prize for discovering a new element? Fucking my sister behind the bunsen burners in Tony Stark’s bougie lab?”

Reed’s cheeks went scarlet. “I—I don’t—”

“Or are you doing it somewhere even weirder? Oh god, don’t answer that—spare me the details. Just please make sure you’re wearing protection; I’m not ready to be an uncle to your stretchy, invisible demon spawn.”

“Johnny!” Richards exclaimed, face fire-engine red. The Human Torch cackled maniacally as he rushed out of the room, a pillar of fire trailing behind him. With an etiolated sigh, Reed couldn’t help but wonder if he’d made a terrible mistake encouraging Johnny to pursue something romantic with a shady individual most of the world considered a reckless menace. His concerns about Spider-Man resembled Sue’s in more ways than one, but he knew the more they objected to the idea, the greater Johnny’s interest in the vigilante would grow.

More than anything, Richards wanted Johnny happy. And right now, despite Susan’s best efforts, Spider-Man was the thing making him the most happy. Based on his quiet surveillance, that happiness was fortunate enough to operate on a two-way street. Spidey really seemed to like him back—stumbling over his words when Johnny teased him or offered him a helping hand, bouncing up and down like a kid in a candy shop when the two were engaged in conversation, melting into the Human Torch’s embrace when he thought no one else was watching. Even with his face hidden, the web-crawler’s body language was implicating enough. He wondered if anyone else had picked up on it yet.

The logical half of Reed’s brain hoped the pair never crossed that line. The smaller, sentimental side hoped one day they’d be brave enough to try. 

“I’m so glad Johnny Storm said what he said about Spider-Man. About a year ago, I was out walking my dog Lola when her collar suddenly broke and she got away from me. I chased after her as fast as I could, but I was too slow to keep up. When she ran out into the busy street, I knew she was a goner. I was about to watch my best friend get hit by a car and die right in front of me. It was the scariest moment of my entire life.

“But before the cars got to her, a streak of red swooped in out of nowhere and snatched her right off the road. I didn’t understand what had happened at first, until Spider-Man dropped onto the sidewalk right beside me with Lola in his arms. I was a hysterical, blubbering mess at that point, but he was so kind and patient with me. He walked with me all the way to the nearest pet shop so I could get my baby a new collar, carrying Lola the entire time and chatting with me the whole way there. I was so embarrassed with the situation and how much my dog was drooling and shedding all over him, but he didn’t care. I’ll never forget what he did for me that day. I’ll always remember how nice he was, and I’m forever grateful for the notes list he airdropped me of all his favorite thrift shops in New York. Dude knows some super obscure but highly underrated spots! I’ve scored some of my best finds this summer thanks to his recs. I’d really prefer to gatekeep, but if enough of you ask, I’ll share the list he gave me in the comments.” 

“Listen here, Mr. Jameson! I’m not one for posting videos on the web too often, but I had to come on here to make sure you knew that Spider-Man is a sweetheart who stands up for what’s right! When me and my girls attended the Women’s March last October, we were met with a giant mob of anti-feminist counter protesters shouting obscene things at us and waving around all kinds of hateful signs and flags. They were making everyone feel very unsafe, and a lot of people were considering leaving despite really wanting to be there to fight for our rights as human beings. 

“To all of our surprise and delight, Spider-Man came swinging from the rooftops to our rescue. He started covering their repulsive signs with spider webs and even snatched the megaphone right out of their leader’s hands! Every time they tried yelling more horrible things at us, he would drown them out by singing ‘Run The World’ by Beyonce as loud as he could or blasting ‘God is a woman’ into the megaphone. It was hilarious! Eventually, the counter protesters got so frustrated by his schemes, they all left in a big huff, and we were able to finish the march in peace. Now, does that sound like a menace to you? I should hope not! Unless you fancy yourself one of those backwards-thinking woman-haters, you’d better start respecting Spider-Man for the darling young man he is!”

“I never planned to tell anybody this story. But with everyone sharing their experiences with Spidey, I felt like it was time to share mine. 

“Two months ago, I hit a low that felt inescapable. I looked at my life, my loneliness, the state of the world, my lukewarm relationships, my shitty job, the endless repetition of each and every day, and thought: this is really it, isn’t it? This is all I have to look forward to for the rest of my existence. I felt so heavy and weary and broken, and was ready to just stop feeling altogether. 

“I was standing on the roof of my apartment building when he showed up. My feet were poking over the edge, and I was envisioning what my body might look like once I hit the pavement. I didn’t know much about Spider-Man at the time, but when he started speaking to me, I remember he sounded a lot younger than I expected. You don’t anticipate New York’s public enemy number one to have a voice that reminds you of your 17-year-old nephew, y’know? And based on the way he was acting, I’m pretty sure this was his first time dealing with this kinda situation.

“He asked me if I wanted to talk before I did anything else. I admitted that I didn’t, and suggested he leave unless he wanted to get blamed for what I was about to do. I couldn’t see any outcome of that evening that didn’t end with me dead in the street, but that didn’t mean I wanted anyone to have to witness it—or worse, feel like they were somehow responsible. Even if Spider-Man was as rotten as the news said, no one—especially a kid—deserves that. 

“I told him again and again to beat it. He kept asking if there was anyone he could call, anything he could say, something he could do. I was getting flustered and impatient, and spun around to yell at him to leave me the hell alone. Guess I turned a bit too aggressively, ‘cuz I wound up tripping over my own feet and falling backwards off the roof. 

I dropped about six or seven floors down before Spidey caught me. He started dishing out a million apologies, insisting that was the exact opposite of what he was trying to accomplish, and I couldn’t help but laugh. As he carried me to the ground and placed me on the sidewalk, I kept laughing and laughing until I was crying, and eventually that crying turned into uncontrollable sobs. I think those couple of seconds of free-falling flipped a switch in me or something. There was this explosion of all these conflicting emotions going on in the moments before and after he saved me, and maybe that made me—I don’t know, actually see the finality of what I was doing or whatever. While weeping like a fucking baby, I started ranting about how much I hated my life and all the stupid shit that had gotten me to the point where I was ready to off myself. I must’ve sounded batshit crazy, but Spider-Man sat there with me through it all until I’d run out of tears and things to say. Kid’s no quack, that’s for sure, but he tried his best to help. He bribed me into talking to the suicide hotline people by trading me Dratini on Pokemon Go. I’d been trying to find one of those for ages, and that little bastard had three! I think being able to swing from place to place on that webbing of his gives him an unfair advantage against the rest of us.

“Anyways. All this to say, Spidey saved my life that day. He didn’t impart any profound wisdom that suddenly made everything all sunshine and rainbows. He didn’t make any vacuous promises that everything would eventually be okay in the end. He just stayed, listened, said some stuff that made me laugh, and reminded me of the small things that make me happy—things I can build on and am willing to stick around for to continue enjoying for the time being. He may not be a hero in everyone’s eyes, but he’ll always be one in mine. 

“So if you’re ever having a bad day and happen to bump into Spider-Man, make him trade you a Dratini on Pokemon Go. By now I’m sure he has, like, forty.”

The video started to play again, but Ned closed the TikTok app and his phone along with it, turning to his friend in disbelief.

“I didn’t know you saved someone from taking their own life,” he said in quiet awe.

Peter slowly looked up from the screen, then smiled somberly, hunching his shoulders to his ears. “Like she said, I had no clue what I was doing. Someone else could’ve helped a lot better than I did. I just happened to be at the right place at the right time that night. It’s good to see she’s doing all right.”

Ned slipped his phone into his pocket without dropping his gaze from Peter’s face. “No wonder Johnny is trying so hard to get you to talk about yourself more online,” he gaped. “You do the most crazy heroic stuff every night, and hardly anyone knows about it! Including your best friend! Why don’t you tell me or anyone else about things like this more often?”

Peter took a big bite out of his hot dog, squinting against the blinding June sun. “I don’t know,” he murmured shyly. “I mean—you heard what that lady said. She guessed I was a teenager based just on my voice. And now fifty thousand people have watched her video and are probably connecting the same dots. The more people talk about me and the more visible Spider-Man becomes, the harder it’ll be to stay anonymous and keep the stuff I don’t want the public to know about me from being discovered.”

Like, say, my insanely huge crush on the Human Torch? he thought with a prickle of dread. 

“I think there’s a certain level of anonymity you’re going to have to sacrifice in order to make people trust Spidey more,” Ned told him pointedly. “I’m not saying ‘take off your mask and show your face to the world’ or anything. But if you and Johnny and others start speaking honestly about you more often, then yeah, people might suspect that you’re on the younger side, and sure, more of your interests and quirks and insecurities may come to light.” Ned dunked his jumbo soft pretzel in cheese sauce. “But I think that’s worth it if it means more people being forced to acknowledge what a badass superhero you are.” 

Peter wiped the mustard from his lips with a napkin, followed by the sheen of sweat on his forehead with his sleeve. “You really think so? You’re not worried about people digging a little too deep as, y’know—more and more of me starts showing through in Spider-Man’s public persona?”

Ned giggled. “Personally, I don’t think Peter Parker is showing through enough. Just look what one person speaking truthfully about you has led to! Now there’s thousands of videos and posts out there that prove you’re a good person! Isn’t it great to hear people speaking kindly about you for a change? Doesn’t it feel nice knowing that all the citizens you’ve helped and the good you’ve done hasn’t gone unnoticed after all?”

Peter sipped thoughtfully from his lemonade straw. He’d been so overwhelmed by the enormity of the response to Johnny’s call for Spider-Man anecdotes, he’d hardly allowed himself to acknowledge the substance of the content being shared, and how flattering a picture it painted of the webhead—a picture he’d never before seen reflected in the media until today. Since donning the mask at fourteen, Peter couldn't recall a time when Spider-Man’s name and image had gone viral online for positive reasons. To this day, a relentless onslaught of Spidey hate-posts were still being churned out minute by minute. But for once, the supportive ones seemed to outweigh the scornful. 

Yes, it did feel nice, he decided. To an almost foreign and inconceivable degree. Despite remembering every moment with every person he’d watched recount an interaction with the vigilante, as he listened to them share their stories and shower him in words of gratitude, it still felt like they were talking about someone else. Not Spider-Man. Not Peter Parker. Not him. 

“To be honest, it all kinda feels a bit too good to be true,” he admitted. “Being endorsed by one of the most popular celebrities in the world I’m sure has a lot to do with it, and it’s possible people are only saying kind things about me in hopes of catching his attention or being featured on his channel.” He ventured a small smile. “Still, I guess you’re right. It is nice. Maybe not everyone views Spidey the way Jameson does.”

“Yeah,” Ned agreed, cracking a grin. “Maybe people actually like Spider-Man.”

Peter shrugged, forcing nonchalance despite the unfamiliar ring of warmth circling his heart, irradiating him with bright spurs of hope. “Maybe,” he conceded softly. 

“In fact, maybe one specific person likes Spider-Man more than everyone else,” Ned added with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows. When Peter met his gaze with a clueless stare, Ned groaned, throwing his hands in the air. “Johnny! The Human Torch! You know, the guy going out of his way to tell everyone how wonderful and amazing you are? The dude putting his entire image and career on the line to prove you’re not a menace? The person we’ve been standing in the baking sun in this endless fucking line for almost four hours to meet?”

Peter blinked stupidly, then peered ahead at the long, wobbly queue of teens and college kids and superhero fanatics standing alongside children dressed in Fantastic Four costumes crying in their parents arms. About a quarter of a mile in the distance stood the tall, colorful pop-up booth that held the promise everyone here was willing to roast and sweat and hold out for: a few moments of face-to-face time with one Johnny Storm.

To their left were the three much shorter lines for the remaining members of the Fantastic Four. Ned had already made it through each of them to get his Funko Pops signed while Peter held their spot in the ridiculously lengthy Johnny queue. As usual, the fan favorite of the team was painfully obvious, which granted Peter a small nugget of relief. Despite his new association with the web-slinger, Johnny’s popularity seemed as intact and resilient as ever. He could only hope it would stay that way. 

Peter flushed a little at Ned’s insinuation and tried rerouting the conversation. “Do I have to remind you that you’re the one who dragged both of us here in the first place?”

“No. Just saying. You’re already reaping so many benefits of being the object of Johnny’s desire. Maybe if you put on the suit and made use of that irresistible Spidey charm, the two of us could skip to the front of the line.”

“I am not…” Peter started to retort, cheeks burning in the heat of the sun. But the look on his friend’s face verified it was pointless, so he scarfed down the rest of his hot dog with a line between his eyebrows. “I already told him Spider-Man wasn’t coming,” he mumbled. “Besides. I thought the whole point of this was for him to see Peter again, not Spider-Man.”

“Wrong. The point of this is so lowly little lay people such as myself have the chance to meet a few of our heroes in person. You seeing Johnny again is our secret special side mission, but let’s be real: you get to see him all the time! I haven’t met him once! Quit being so greedy!”

A quick laugh punched out of Peter, surprised and chagrined. “Fine, all right, I’m sorry. Do you really want me to abuse my Spidey privileges and jump you to the front of the line? If you’re seriously that upset about waiting, I could try—”

Ne waved him off. “No, no,” he grumbled, fanning himself with a handful of napkins. “I’m just hot and sweaty and impatient, and complaining about it loudly makes it a little less unbearable.”

Peter chuckled, combing his fingers through his damp curls. “That’s valid.”

The line scooched a couple paces ahead of them, forming a gap the two friends were quick to breach. Ned checked his watch again—the third time in the last five minutes—groaned, then bunched up all the garbage he held in his fists. 

“This is nuts! I could go through all three other lines again and meet the rest of the Fantastic Four a second time before we even get halfway through this one.”

Peter swatted at a fly buzzing by his ear. “Why don’t you?” he proposed. “Better than standing here whining at me for the next two to seven hours.”

Ned glanced back at him, a smile lighting up his face. “Why don’t you?” he counter offered. “This is probably your only chance to talk to all of them as yourself, not Spider-Man. Why not take a break from being a superhero and go be a fan for a change?”

Curiosity and uncertainty sparred in Peter’s chest as he turned to look at the three other queues. He hadn’t even considered meeting the other Fantastic Four members at this event. He didn’t think they’d have time, but now it was clear they had an overwhelming abundance to kill. 

Peter ran his thumb along his bottom lip in thought. Well…why don’t I? he wondered to himself. It wasn’t like he planned on revealing his secret identity to them anytime soon. It might be nice to meet them again as his regular self: a civilian and a fan, without all the baggage and presumptions that came with his spidery alter ego. During their initial introductions, he’d never had the chance to say the things he’d planned on saying or make the impression he’d wanted. This could be a kind of do-over for him—if only to satiate his neglected inner fanboy. 

“You’d be fine waiting here for me if I went?” Peter asked timidly. 

“Of course! You already did the same for me. I’m gonna keep moaning and complaining whether you’re here or not; might as well spare you the headache.” He dumped the handfuls of garbage in his fists into Peter’s unexpecting arms. “Plus, you can throw all this out on your way over there. Win-win.”

“Wow, thanks,” Peter deadpanned amusedly, struggling not to drop any remnants of their greasy snack haul. He stepped out of line towards the trash cans flanking the Thing’s queue. “Text me if you’re nearing the front and I’m not back yet.”

“Try not to get on Dr. Storm’s bad side a second time,” Ned suggested unhelpfully. Peter cut a frown in his direction as he dumped an armful of napkins and wrappers in the bin, then walked to stand in Ben Grimm’s line. 

It only took about thirty minutes for Peter to make it to the Thing’s booth. The craggy mountain of a man stood behind a table overflowing with toys and action figures and other Thing merchandise available for purchase. The wall behind him had all sorts of shirts and posters bearing his likeness pinned up along with the prices. “All Proceeds Go To Local NYC Animal Shelters” the sign above Ben’s head read. Peter swept his gaze across the overflowing piles and stacks of Thing memorabilia. He wondered if anyone would buy stuff like this if it were Spider-Man themed. Possibly—if only to douse it in gasoline and light it aflame as an effigy to their disgust.

“Well? Yah just gonna stand there and gawk? Or y’gonna come say hi?”

Stiffening, Peter lifted his eyes to meet the Thing’s. He had the harsh, beastly features of a man transformed into a weapon of mass destruction, more than capable of leveling several city blocks before anyone could slow him down. He’d witnessed the power Ben Grimm possessed firsthand, and had very nearly been squashed by it. But blinking within that brutal exterior were a pair of eyes begetting a gentle and inviting kindness—one that likely impeded most children from bursting into tears at the sight of him, and enough to ease Peter’s initial concern.  

“Oh, I—right. Sorry.” Peter approached the stand with a sting of urgency, not wanting to keep others waiting. Ben flashed him a grin that looked less like a grin and more like a grimace.

“What can I do yah for, kiddo?” the Thing asked spiritedly. “Photos? Signed trading cards? A T-shirt with my handsome mug on it? It’s for a good cause. All the money goes to lil’ pups and kitties in need.” He pointed to the giant sign above him in case Peter had somehow missed it. Peter hinted a smile.

“That’s okay,” he said, not seeing anything he could afford anyway. “I was actually hoping to ask you a question.”

Ben raised one rocky eyebrow and scratched his scarp of a jaw. “Oh yeah?” he said. “Ask away then, squirt.”

“What are your favorite and least favorite things about your teammates?”

Ben threw his head back with a hearty laugh. “Audacious today, aren’t we? You want the on-the-record answer, or the off one?”

“Just the truth,” he answered simply. The Thing smiled and nodded.

“The truth. All right, then. I’ll start with my good pal Reed.” He shot a glance to his right, where his friend was sitting one booth over. “My favorite thing about Reed is his passion for pushing science beyond its current limitations to solve the world’s biggest problems and help those in need. Coincidentally,” the Thing added with a snort of contempt, “that’s also my least favorite thing about him, since his obsession with progress and making new discoveries tends to get him and the people closest to him in a lot of trouble.”

Next, Ben turned to his right, where Susan stood about twenty feet away posing with a little girl dressed up like her. “My favorite thing about Sue is how much she cares about this team and how hard she works to prove our value and virtue to the world. No one advocates on our behalf more than she does, and she’s incredibly protective of every one of us. She truly views the Fantastic Four as her family.” Clouds rolled across his expression as his eyes fell to the grass. “My least favorite thing is how much pressure she puts on herself. She worries so much about the wants and needs of others, she winds up neglecting her own. If the things she plans don’t go perfectly, she beats herself up about it. If one of us makes a mistake, she feels like she’s somehow responsible for it. She was forced to grow up so fast and be a caretaker from such a young age, I think she’s kinda perpetually stuck in that mindset. I’d love to see her do something indulgent and selfish for a change.”

Peter blinked up at the superhero with curious eyes. Perhaps it was crass of him to think this way, but he was surprised to hear such a thoughtful and discerning character analysis come from the mouth of someone who was strong enough to tear a person in two with his bare hands. He looked towards the Invisible Woman and felt a small twist in his chest. 

“And as for Johnny,” Ben grumbled out, a noticeable irritation entering his tone, “oh, boy. Where do I begin with that one? Kid’s been the biggest pain in my backside since the first day I met ‘em. I can give you plenty of things I can’t stand about Johnny: his temper, his stubbornness, his complete lack of respect for authority, his mile-high ego. You know he once bedazzled the words ‘hard ass’ in the middle part of my back where I can’t reach while I was sleeping? Bastard’s lucky he can fly, or else I would’ve pummeled him to coal dust long ago.” He nodded in Peter’s direction. “He’s nothing like you. You seem like the polite, humble sort with a solid head on your shoulders. Johnny could learn a thing or two from a young man such as yourself.”

A coy chuckle floated from Peter’s throat. “So there’s nothing you like about him?” he prompted the Thing hesitantly. Ben crinkled his nose.

“Hmm. Let me think.” He gave his wide chin a few thoughtful taps. “I suppose despite everything I just said, I know for a fact that if it came down to it, Johnny would risk his neck to save me, and anyone else on this team. Even though the two of us constantly butt heads, deep down I know he’s a decent kid who’s been dealt a very crazy hand in life, and he’s doing his best to navigate it. So there. I’ll give him that much.”

Sounds about right, Peter mused with a smile. The teen stood on his tiptoes to try to catch a glimpse of Johnny above the heads of the people in Dr. Storm’s line, but he couldn’t find a gap in the tightly packed crowds.

“Did that answer your question, squirt?” the Thing grunted impatiently.

“What about you?” Peter said. “What are your favorite and least favorite things about yourself?”

Ben let out a cackle. “That’s an easy one! My favorite thing about myself is I have the power to clobber anyone who tries to hurt my friends.” He held out his hand and wiggled the four pudgy, sausage-sized fingers attached to it. “My least favorite thing has to be how huge and useless my fingers are now. I mean, just look at ‘em! Try scrolling on a cell phone or using chopsticks with these meat hooks! It ain’t happening.”

The security guard standing to Ben’s left cleared his throat and gestured sharply with his head, signaling that it was time for Peter to move along. Peter’s grin dropped as he straightened his spine.

“Right. Sorry.” He eyed the donation box on the table and dug around in his pockets for loose change. “Uh, thanks a lot, Mr. Grimm. Great talking to you. And good luck with the fundraiser.” Peter managed to scrounge up one quarter, three nickels, and a pair of dirty, blackened pennies. He gingerly dropped them into the jar and hurried off before Ben tried to sell him a Thing prayer candle. 

Next up was Mr. Fantastic himself. As Peter waited his turn in the shortest of the four lines, he watched the bright-eyed scientist act equally shocked and delighted every time somebody wanted to get his autograph or take a photo with him. Adults and children alike exclaimed in awe whenever he stretched his arms abnormally long to embrace entire families and friend groups for pictures. 

Peter saw a lot of himself in Reed Richards. Without their flashy costumes or supernatural abilities, the two of them were nothing more than science-obsessed nerds whom most of society wouldn’t blink twice at. Fame and notoriety outside the field of scientific discovery were never in the cards for people like them—until those things were thrust upon the pair by some strange endeavor of the universe with a terrible sense of humor. 

Outside of being a superhero, at least Reed had the Baxter Foundation to his name. Peter wondered if he’d ever achieve something like that. He could see his future self working at an institution like Baxter or Stark Industries someday, but he doubted he’d ever own his own company. Spider-Manning already ate up too much of his free time, and his number one priority would always be helping out the little guy. Unless he founded a company focused exclusively on that, he didn’t want any part of it.  

But that was for older Peter to worry about. Right now, present Peter’s only priority was being a fan and geeking out. 

“Hello there!” Reed greeted him as Peter stepped up to his booth. “Welcome to the Fantastic Four’s First Annual Fundraiser! How are you doing today?”

“I wrote my finals essay about you,” Peter heard himself blurt out with a little too much enthusiasm. Perhaps he’d underestimated how excited he’d be to talk to one of his idols as himself and discuss things he wasn’t able to mention as Spider-Man, since it would reveal he was in high school. Immediately, Peter cringed and reddened, giving his head a quick shake. “Sorry—your book, I mean. On aerospace engineering and astrophysics. I wrote a paper about it. ‘Cuz, y’know. It was amazing. And you’re amazing. I’m gonna shut up now.”

Reed chuckled cheerfully. “No, please—keep talking! I rarely ever meet anyone at these events who’s managed to make it through one of my baroque publications—or greater still, actually comprehended them enough to write an essay on their content. And at such a young age, no less! How old are you?”

“Sixteen,” Peter replied. Richards gawked.

“And you read all fourteen hundred pages of ‘Engineering the New Age of Aerospace Exploration’?”

“I’ve read all seven of your books,” Peter clarified, scratching his neck with a shy grin. “But ‘Aerospace Exploration’ was my favorite.”

Mr. Fantastic beamed brighter than the glaring sun overhead. “You’re kidding! Holy cow! The only sixteen-year-old I’m around on a daily basis spends his free time coiffing his hair for hours on end and antagonizing his sister. It would do Johnny good to see what other people his age are capable of accomplishing with some discipline and dedication.” Reed extended his hand, which Peter took timidly in his own, and gave it an eager shake. “Please tell me you’re planning to pursue a career in the field of science.”

“That’s the dream,” Peter assured him.

Richards pawed at his pocket-less costume in search of something urgent, cursed, then ducked under the table to scour the nooks of his abandoned suit jacket. He popped upright a few seconds later with a card between his fingers and a triumphant look on his face. He held the piece of paper out to Peter.

“Call me whenever you’re in the market for a job or an internship. I’d love to sit down and really get to know you and what you aspire to do with that extraordinary mind of yours, and how the Baxter Foundation might help you achieve your goals. And I’m very interested in reading what you had to say about my book.”

Peter lit up like a firecracker. “Really?” he exclaimed, accepting the card from him. “You actually—I just—thank you, Dr. Richards! That would be amazing. I’ve always wanted the chance to pick your brain on quantum particle physics and zero distance string theory.” 

“Even more reason to look forward to our conversation,” Reed said spiritedly. 

Peter slipped the card into his back pocket and ran a hand down the front of his T-shirt. “Now I’m kicking myself for not bringing something for you to sign,” he admitted with a giggle. 

Richards’ smile widened. “Whenever we meet to chat, I’ll bring you a signed copy of ‘Aerospace Exploration.’ How does that sound?” 

“Like I’d better buy a lottery ticket on my way home while my luck is this good.”

“Luck had nothing to do with it,” Mr. Fantastic insisted, sending the teen on his way with a wave and a grin. “We’ll talk soon, yes?”

Peter nodded fervidly, even though he had no idea how or when he’d be able to make that happen. He didn’t dare meet up with him at Avengers Tower; too great a chance of that legendary intellect of his connecting the dots between the excitable teenager and the masked vigilante with the two in such close proximity. And technically speaking, Peter Parker already had an internship—with Stark Industries. It was mostly a cover-up for his time spent with Tony as Spider-Man, but it could still make starting a second one complicated. Perhaps he shouldn’t pursue that kind of thing with the Baxter Foundation at all, just to be safe. He was more interested in meeting with Reed Richards just to talk science shop anyway; working at his company might have to wait until a later date.

The third booth before Johnny’s had the most diverse collection of fans in line: chittering, giggly little girls next to men and boys who looked like they had a history of getting kicked out of baseball stadiums. As Peter neared the front, he peeked between the patrons ahead of him to catch a glimpse of Dr. Susan Storm’s table and fan merch, only to find it empty. Well, not empty of merch—there were enough hoodies, bobble heads, hats, and fridge magnets to fill a Fantastic Four memorabilia museum. But Sue herself was nowhere to be found. Perhaps she’d left for a break away from the mob of sweaty patrons. That’s what Peter figured, anyway—until he saw a floating pen autographing a child’s drawing all by itself, as if possessed by a ghost. Peter blinked, his brain not comprehending what his eyes were seeing. Then a hand suddenly bloomed into existence, holding the pen in its fingers, followed by the rest of the person signing the piece of paper. Visibility cascaded across Susan Storm’s torso and limbs, her head being the last part of her to regain opacity. The crowd ooohed and aaawed in amazement.

“There you go,” Sue said, offering the drawing back to the little boy. The kid squealed with excitement, bringing a smile to the Invisible Woman’s face that actually looked genuine for a change. The child’s parents thanked her profusely, adding a thick wad of cash to the donation box as they herded their offspring away. Only a few people left ahead of Peter.

“Can we get a group picture?” the men in front of him asked, looking a tad too eager for Peter's liking. Susan hesitated for only an instant, eyes darting between them, then nodded and stood from her chair.

“Of course,” she said, motioning the men forward. “Gather ‘round, folks.”

Whispering and snickering, the four guys surrounded the young woman. Two on her left, two on her right, two large hands snaking around her waist. Something prickly twisted in Peter’s gut. Once they were in position, Sue smiled for the photo, but with her jaw clenched taut.

“One, two, three!” the photographer called before snapping a string of pictures. The moment her obligation was fulfilled, Sue’s palms dropped to her sides, but the men kept their arms glued to her flanks. 

“Let’s do one more,” the shortest of the four men insisted, peeling into a grin that made Peter’s skin crawl. “This time, Susie dear, why don’t you make your whole body invisible except the parts that matter: that scrumptious ass and those delicious tits.”

The men cackled, including an awkward laugh from the photographer and a few nasty giggles from some people behind Peter. Shock collided with rage in Peter’s blood. He watched the fake smile on Sue’s face snuff out like a candle flame. Exhausted irritation dulled the blue of her eyes to an icy pewter. Her muted reaction indicated this behavior was something she encountered far too often, which lanced Peter with renewed fury. 

“You guys are pigs,” Peter snapped, stepping forward with his hands curled into fists. Susan shoved the men off of her with a look of controlled boredom.

“Ah, c’mon darling! We’re just messing with yah! Don’t be like that! We’ll make an extra-large donation if you do it! Ugh—how come bitches can’t ever take a joke?”

While Peter was debating which angle to punch his face from first, Sue turned towards the chortling men like a wolf cornering a wounded deer. She had the posture and cadence of a person well-versed in standing up to assholes like this on the regular. 

“One fun thing I learned about my powers recently,” the Invisible Woman said, face schooled into a blank expression. “I can create force fields inside other objects and expand them until they explode. It’s rather fun, actually. I’ve blown up water bottles, boiled eggs, mayonnaise jars, bricks. But you know what I haven’t tested it on yet?” Her eyes narrowed. “The human body.”

The men’s ugly grins wobbled. 

“I wonder what would happen if I expanded a force field inside your liver? Or your kidney? Your pulmonary valve, perhaps?” Her gaze flicked to the shortest man’s receding hairline. “Or maybe inside that balding head of yours.”

Tiny blue spheres sprung to life in the center of her palm and started swirling between her fingers in a smooth, threatening dance. She held them out towards the men as they spun and swelled bigger, bigger, bigger. “So if you’re interested in keeping the parts of your bodies that matter intact, I suggest you leave. Now.” The three force fields combined into one and shot forward, making the men flinch. The disk of concentrated power slipped underneath the donation bin and lifted it off the table; the box hovered to a stop right below the four assholes’ noses. “Be sure to leave a generous contribution on your way out. One big enough to reflect the scope of my phenomenal self-restraint.”

Slowly, shamefully, the men exchanged hesitant looks, beads of sweat glimmering on their foreheads. Then, grumbling to themselves, they began groping around for their wallets, averting their eyes from Dr. Storm’s menacing glare. 

Once they’d paid their penance, a security guard shepherded the assholes away from Sue’s booth. Rigidly, the Invisible Woman returned to her seat behind the table, forcing the ice to melt from her expression as she heaved a weary sigh. Anger spilled into sorrow at the hideous treatment Peter had just watched her endure. She’d handled it remarkably, leaving no space for anyone to believe that speaking to her like that was okay—but that didn’t make what happened any less demoralizing. On top of being a superhero, working round the clock to keep her brother out of trouble, and managing all of the Fantastic Four’s public relations, Dr. Storm was saddled with pressures that neither Peter nor her teammates would ever bear or understand. Perhaps her being expected to handle all those responsibilities in the first place was indicative of the pressures she as a female superhero experienced. Peter didn’t see Ben or Reed going out of their way to set up talk show interviews or put on events like this, nor were they likely to take the fall should those exploits go horribly wrong. And they certainly weren’t being publicly degraded by disgusting men. 

Everything she did—organizing fan events, advocating for her team, fortifying their public image, dealing with misogynistic assholes with poise and class rather than slugging them between the eyes like they deserved—it was all to protect her family. Including being distrustful of Spider-Man, he realized with a pang. Peter could relate to the proclivity to keep the wall-crawler as far from one’s loved ones as possible: he’d forged the identity of the masked vigilante for that very purpose. 

Even though they expressed it in different ways, there was one trait Sue and Johnny shared that was both their strength and their curse: how deeply they cared about things, even at their own expense. 

Susan cast her gaze across the busy park, gauging how the event was going so far, taking inventory of the attendees and the overflowing trash cans and the insufficient amount of shade, deducting what she could do to make sure everything and everyone was happy and taken care of. Peter could practically see the rapid-fire calculations running behind her eyes as he approached the Invisible Woman like a hiker tip-toeing across a frozen lake. 

“Hi,” he greeted her carefully. Peter watched Dr. Storm’s far-off gaze snap back into focus, eyes blinking as they jerked up to find his. 

“Oh—hello,” Susan said. Her soft smile returned, although it took a few moments to reach her eyes. She sat up tall and breathed with intention, reactivating her cheerful fan-service persona. “Sorry about all that. I hope I didn’t scare you. I probably could’ve handled that without threatening to blow someone up from the inside out.” She let out a weak laugh, face going pale. “Which I would never actually do, by the way. Oh god—why did I say that?”

“They got off easy in my opinion,” Peter reassured her. “I think they deserved a ruptured kidney or two. A couple popped blood vessels at least.”

Sue deflated in relief, glad she hadn’t scarred a teenage fan for life, then chuckled. “I like you already,” she decided.

“I’m…sorry they talked to you that way,” Peter said carefully. “It’s messed up that you have to deal with people like that.”

Dr. Storm did a quick scan of his face, expression gentle and welcoming. Much different from the hard scowl he was met with whenever she spoke to him in costume. Then she gave a nonchalant wave.

“It’s all right. Dealing with the occasional jerk just makes me that much more grateful when I get to talk to real fans like you.” Clearly ready to move on from the subject, she gestured to all the different trinkets and merch stacked across the table. “See anything you like? Do you have any pets? We have Fantastic Four dog toys now. My brother’s is currently the fan favorite, and it’s quite fun watching the pups chew on his face with such enthusiasm.” She squeaked one of the toys in her hand for emphasis. 

Peter smiled at the Human Torch plush, which had little felt flames poking out of its hair. “Johnny is really lucky to have a sister like you,” he thought out loud. He wasn’t sure if what he was about to say would cross some unspoken Susan Storm boundary, but he continued anyway. “It’s really inspiring to me—how you stepped up to take care of him after going through so much loss. Most people aren’t capable of that kind of strength or bravery.” He lowered his gaze, scratching at his forearm. “I was raised by a family member who stepped in to help after I lost my parents, too. I’ve spent the last decade watching her struggle and make sacrifices to shape me into a good person and give me a happy life. She never wanted kids, but she took me in and treated me as her own without hesitation. What she’s done for me—and what you’ve done for Johnny—I think it’s one of the most selfless and heroic things a person can do. I’ll never be able to repay the debt I owe her, but it’s people like you and her who make me want to dedicate my life to helping others.” He bit the inside of his cheek and shrugged. “I just…wanted you to know that.”

When Peter’s gaze lifted to Sue’s after his soapbox was complete, he was startled to find her eyes flooded with tears. She and Johnny really were a lot more alike than either of them wanted to admit. The Invisible Woman pressed a finger to a droplet on her cheek with a look of disbelief, as if she, too, was shocked by her reaction. Peter swallowed, skin flushing with regret. 

“I—I’m sorry, Dr. Storm. I wasn’t—I didn’t mean to make you—”

“It’s okay,” she laughed in a broken, watery voice. “I’m okay, really. I don’t know what’s come over me. That just—” She dabbed frantically under her eyes, trying her best not to smear her makeup. “— really caught me by surprise. Phew. I just—I always feel like I’m failing him, y’know? Like I have no clue what the hell I’m doing, like everything I say just drives a larger wedge between us. Like maybe I should’ve read a book or a manual on parenthood or being an older sibling and a parent at the same time or something, but…” She sniffled, fighting to resurrect her stoic mask of strength and impenetrability. “But…um…thank you. That was…very kind of you to say.”

“Of course,” Peter said with a cautious smile. Ben was right: Susan Storm put way too much pressure on herself, and clearly deserved far more recognition for her altruistic spirit than Peter or anyone else awarded her. It felt good to do something that made her feel appreciated for once, instead of apprehensive and pissed off. Even if she never warmed up to Spider-Man, Peter didn’t have the heart to hold it against her. Her disapproval was derived not from malice, but from the need to protect the person they both cared so much about. He shifted his weight between his feet. “Unrelated, but I’m also super invested in your research on the molecular mechanisms of microbial life forms that allow certain species to survive in outer space. Are you planning to conduct any new experiments soon?”

Dr. Storm stared at him like he had grown a second head. “How do you know about that?” she asked bewilderedly. 

Peter frowned. “Wasn’t that one of the things you were researching during your space mission in February? Y’know—before the particle cloud hit?”

Sue scoffed. “Yes, but hardly anyone knows about it. With Reed’s research on hyperspace travel being the mission’s primary objective and everything that followed after the cosmic rays struck our starship, my little passion project on microorganisms in space was understandably overshadowed.” 

“Well, I liked it,” Peter countered with a grin. “Your experiments with the ways the outer space environment can affect microbes’ cell metabolism, proliferation rate, cell motility, virulence, and biofilm production were fascinating, especially the parts evidencing the resilience of extremophilic microbial species. If you do decide to continue your research, know that you’ll be making one very nerdy fan who spends way too much time scouring through biochemistry news forums extremely happy.” 

Susan Storm smiled the most authentic smile Peter had ever seen her direct his way. “I doubt I’ll ever find the time or funding to explore that research any farther,” she admitted, interlacing her hands on top of the table. She gave him a small nod. “But…I’ll look into it. One science nerd to another.”

Peter mirrored her smile tenfold. “Awesome!” he exclaimed. “Maybe I can write my next analysis essay on your future findings. This research could help us understand how beings like Captain Marvel and the Asgardians are able to survive deep space travel at the molecular level without their bodily fluids boiling or the air being vacuumed from their lungs or—”

“Peter!”

The teenager flinched, head whipping towards the sound of his name. Across the lawn, he spotted Ned in Johnny’s line, only a few people away from the very front, hopping up and down and waving his arms around like his hair was on fire. He could hardly believe how far the line had moved since he’d left. How long had he been gone? Peter threw his friend a quick thumbs-up, then turned back to Dr. Storm.

“Going to see my brother next?” Susan asked, crinkling her nose with feigned disgust. “Could you go ahead and repeat all those nice things you said about me being a selfless and heroic sister to him? Y’know, remind him how lucky he is to have such a committed and loving older sibling? Oh,” she added, snagging something from under the table, “and would you mind giving this to him? Us Storms burn like goddamn marshmallows on days like this.” 

Sue handed him the item, which appeared to be a bottle of some kind of fancy Korean sunscreen. The thought of a guy who could light his whole body on fire being susceptible to sunburn made Peter giggle softly to himself. His heart buoyed at the thought of all the little things Susan remembered and did like this to show how much she cared for Johnny. She truly loved her brother, despite the message getting lost in translation more often than not. 

“I’m on it,” Peter promised, waving back at her as he stepped away from the booth. “Really great meeting you! Sorry again for making you cry! You’re amazing!”

Susan chuckled. “Great meeting you too, Peter.”

Peter startled. He didn’t remember telling her his name. He supposed she must’ve heard when Ned screamed it at him from Johnny’s line. Too bad she’d never know that Peter—the nerdy fan she’d deemed kind and trustworthy—was also the masked vigilante she considered a menace and a threat. 

Peter jogged across the field to meet his friend, who looked about ready to burst with excitement. 

“Thank god!” Ned exclaimed, grabbing Peter by the sleeve and dragging him back into the queue. “You weren’t answering your phone! I was in full panic mode thinking you weren’t gonna make it in time!” Ned noticed the bottle in his hand and scowled. “What is that? A souvenir?”

“Sunscreen,” Peter said. “For Johnny. Dr. Storm asked me to give it to him. Apparently he sunburns easily.”

Ned met his gaze, stunned. “For real? Aw! She entrusted you with a quest! I guess Peter Parker made a better first impression with her than Spider-Man did, huh?” 

Peter shrugged. “Guess so. With all three of them, actually. Probably has something to do with my big brown doe eyes and dumb squishy baby face. That’s how Mr. Stark describes them, anyway—which I hate.”

Ned snickered. “Let’s see if your doe eyes and baby face work on the Human Torch, too.”

The two friends scooched another couple steps forward in line, and the smooth wave of Johnny Storm’s sunset-gold hair caught Peter’s eye past the shoulder of the woman in front of him, quickly followed by a glimpse of his angular jaw, a flash of that zany smile. The fans he was currently speaking to moved aside, squealing to each other and shouting their “thanks yous” and “goodbyes” as they scampered away, arms loaded with autographed Johnny merch, and suddenly there was only one person between them and the Human Torch. He was mere minutes from meeting him as Peter Parker once again. Not as Spider-Man—a daring superhero with a life of thrills and adventure, whom Johnny considered his equal and friend—but as himself. Peter Benjamin Parker. An awkward, unpopular loser whose greatest adversaries prior to gaining powers had been overdue electricity bills and high school bullies. Not that those things had gone away after he’d become Spider-Man, per se. He just had bigger problems to deal with alongside them. 

None of this should’ve bothered him, seeing how Peter would just be another random fan for Johnny to forget about the moment he left his direct line of vision. But a tiny, paranoid voice caressed his mind with ice-cold whispers, revving the excited thump of Peter’s pulse to a wild roar: What if he finds you out? What if he realizes it’s you? What if he recognizes your voice? Your demeanor? Your weird nervous habits? It was pretty easy to keep people who knew him only as Peter from discovering he was Spider-Man; no one suspected a guy as scrawny and nerdy as him to be lifting cars over his head or fighting off feral space aliens. But this was the first time someone who knew Spider-Man extremely well was meeting his boring civilian counterpart more than once. What if Johnny clocked him the moment he opened his mouth?

Eager anticipation careened into nauseous anxiety. He grabbed Ned’s wrist, feet rooted in place, sunlight searing the back of his neck. 

“This was a mistake,” Peter croaked out, watching Johnny form a little heart-shaped flame in his palms while the girl in front of them took a video. He jerked his head left and right. “M-maybe we should just—”

Immediately, Ned tore out of his friend’s grip. “Oh, no,” he said, wrapping both arms around Peter’s elbow as tight as a constrictor snake and hauling him forward like a sack of potatoes. “No way am I letting you chicken out now. Not after six hours of waiting for this exact moment.”

Peter dug his heels in the hard dirt beneath them, throat dry, palms clammy. “Ned, wait—you don’t understand—”

“I understand perfectly, ” his friend interceded. “You’re nervous, and that’s okay! This is a complex emotional situation you’re stepping into. But we’re not gonna let some last-minute nerves get in the way of you and Johnny’s highly anticipated reunion. Not on my watch.”

Peter shook his head, sputtering out more pathetic, mildly coherent protests, desperate to get Ned to listen, but he couldn’t form the words fast enough. The woman in front of them was already wrapping up her chat with Johnny and moving away from the booth, leaving nothing but a couple feet of empty space between the pair of friends and the Human Torch. Peter’s heart ballooned as the young hero became fully visible to him: his infectious grin reaching every corner of his face, freckled cheeks flushed in the hot summer sun. At the same time, his stomach dropped like the Coney Island Astro Tower.

“Have a lovely day,” Johnny called after the girl, blowing her a kiss that floated from his lips in lazy circles of smoke. As he watched the haze fade into the atmosphere, an ugly feeling speared through Peter, lashing him down to the bone. 

Jealousy. And not jealousy for Johnny, like he’d previously assumed—but jealousy of the girl he was blowing kisses at. The realization made him consider throwing himself into the trash can on his right and hiding amongst the filth until he shriveled up and died. 

“I’ll break the ice, then you’re up, bestie,” Ned whispered to him. He gave Peter’s arm a squeeze, then skipped fearlessly towards the Human Torch, throwing a wink over his shoulder. “Don’t be weird! You got this!”

“Hey there,” Johnny said as Ned approached, flames flicking across the tips of his wiggling fingers. Effortlessly cool as always, he thought bitterly. Peter hung back, grinding his molars together, wringing the bottle of sunscreen between his fists. 

“Hello Johnny!” Ned answered emphatically. He swung his backpack to the front of his body and snagged the Human Torch Funko Pop box out of the biggest pocket. “I can’t believe we finally made it! My friend and I have been waiting here all day just to meet you and get your autograph.”

“I appreciate your incredible patience,” Johnny said, taking the collectible from Ned’s outstretched hands. “Our outdoor fundraiser of course had to fall on the hottest day of the summer so far.” He sounded a bit rehearsed and mechanical, like he’d been repeating the same phrases again and again all day, but no less friendly. He swiped a palm across his sweaty forehead and grinned at the bobble head Ned had given him. “Wow! Limited edition. These are hard to come by. You must be very proud.”

“Not gonna lie, having the full signed Fantastic Four set will probably be the proudest achievement of my life so far.” Shyly, Ned held up his phone, hovering his finger over the record button. “Would you mind if I filmed you autographing it? You know, for authenticity’s sake?”

“Go right ahead,” Johnny said warmly. He held up his index finger, the tip glowing red-hot. “Want it in ink, or burned on?”

“Burned, please,” Ned answered immediately. “Burned is by far the coolest.”

Johnny nodded. “You got it.” Using his pointer finger like a mini blow torch, he went to work gently searing his name into the Funko Pop box, sweeping his autograph across the thin cardboard in long, sloping arcs as he must’ve done a thousand times already. Ned smiled as wide as the Hudson as he recorded him, struggling not to bounce from foot to foot.

“Does your friend have anything they want signed?” Johnny asked as he finished the final stroke of his signature. Peter had been mostly hidden behind Ned up to this point, but his treacherous best friend stepped to the side so there was nothing left to shield him from Johnny’s magnetic gaze, shooting him an encouraging look. Peter’s face heated as Johnny’s eyes rose from the Funko Pop to meet his, then slowly widened.

“Do you?” Ned prompted him.

Peter shook his head rigidly. “No. I’m good. Thank you.”

“Hey,” Johnny said, wagging a finger at him, eyes brightening with recognition. “I know you!”

Peter’s heart practically burst through his ribcage. “W-what?” he yelped, staggering back a step. “You do?”

“Yeah! You’re that guy who yelled at me outside of the bubble tea shop.”

Peter’s jaw dangled open, then immediately clamped shut, relief draining through him. Oh, thank god. He only recognized him from that one-time encounter, not as the spider-themed superhero he’d befriended over the past week. So long as he played it cool, Johnny would never figure out who he was really speaking to.

You know. Because he was so good at playing it cool.

Ignoring Ned, whose face was about to split in two from how aggressively he was smiling, Peter swallowed. “Oh. Right. I’m surprised you remember that.”

Johnny’s lips turned upwards playfully. “How could I forget? You were awfully pissed at me that day, pretty boy.” 

Deadly heat shuddered up Peter’s spine. Ned smothered a snicker in his sleeve to his left. 

“To be fair, I deserved it,” Johnny continued with a shrug. “I caused a lot of unnecessary damage and was in desperate need of a reality check. You were right to call me out on my shit, especially since you said I almost killed your best—” Horror flashed across his expression as he clapped both hands over his mouth. “Oh my god,” he mumbled into his palms, voice dripping with dread as his eyes flicked back to Ned. “Was that you? Are you his friend I almost killed?”

Ned waved him off casually. “Don’t sweat it. Water under the bridge. It was really cool to get to see you all live in action—even if I did almost get blasted in the face by a fireball. Most eventful boba run to date.”

Johnny shook his head in dismay. “I am so sorry. I wasn’t myself that day. That doesn’t excuse what I did, I just—I hope you know I won’t ever let my own personal drama drive me to behave that recklessly ever again.” 

Ned tapped the side of his temple. “Trust me—in my mind, any bad things you’ve ever done are entirely negated by the fact that I now own a collectible with your signature on it.”

Johnny’s concerned expression eased into a halfhearted smile, followed by a light laugh that sent sparks sizzling across Peter’s skin. “I’m lucky to have such forgiving fans,” he said, handing the Funko Pop back to Ned. His Baltic blue eyes veered to Peter again, drinking in his features with unabashed curiosity. “I need you to know the Fantastic Four paid back all the business owners for the damages I caused that day, including the owner of that tea shop.” Earnestness and guilt saturated every word from his lips. “She’s set to start rebuilding next week, and I promised her I’d come by once she reopens to post myself trying her drinks to give her sales a big boost and make up for all the trouble I caused.” He searched Peter’s gaze, fraught to right the wrongs he’d committed, his neck and forehead slick with sweat. Johnny felt everything so poignantly, including remorse for his mistakes. He’d be gutted if Peter refused to forgive him, despite him being some no-name stranger he’d probably never speak to again. Like alway, it softened Peter’s heart to see just how much the Storm siblings cared. 

“That’s nice of you,” Peter said measuredly. The reply came out more curt and sterile than he intended, but he was scared of talking in longer bouts—scared that his voice or speaking patterns might start sounding familiar to the fiery celebrity. When Johnny looked wounded by his robotic answer, he added: “Thank you. For, um, helping her. And the others. They deserve it. Not having their businesses burned down, obviously, but—y’know. Being helped.”

Wow. Smooth, Pete. A true masterclass in playing it cool.

Johnny leaned back in his chair with one arm draped across the backrest and his opposite foot tucked into his lap. His sun-drowsed stare traced Peter up and down, studying him like a strange modern art piece he was trying to pull meaning out of. The corner of his mouth ticked towards the sky.

“You’re tough to read, pretty boy. First you berate me in the street—warranted, but still harsh—then you wait in line for hours and hours just for the chance to chat with me for a few minutes. I can’t decide if you like me or hate me.”

It didn’t matter how many times Johnny threw on a smirk and spoke to him in that bold, impish tone: the Human Torch’s charm never failed to fluster him to the same blistering degree. Peter dug his teeth into his bottom lip to keep himself from saying something he’d regret.

“Oh, he definitely likes you,” Ned answered for him with a giggle, making Peter go scarlet. 

“Ned!” Peter hissed, whacking him in the arm with the sunscreen bottle. Ned cackled as he winced sideways, rubbing at his elbow. Johnny eyed Peter with a renewed sparkle of interest.

“You do?” he said, irises like sapphires in the blazing light. “I’m having a hard time believing that.”

“We both like you for standing up for Spider-Man,” Ned conceded, causing Peter’s muscles to calcify. “He’s our favorite superhero, too.” 

It took all of his collective willpower not to react to the name drop. What are you doing!? Peter wanted to scream. The last person they needed to be bringing up right now was the famous wall-crawler. Any reference or association to the webhead in their current state was downright begging for Johnny to discover the truth. Him and Ned really should’ve spent a chunk of the last six hours establishing some ground rules for this conversation. 

Johnny beamed. “No kidding? See—I knew he had fans out there besides me! And you’re not the first people to tell me that today, either. I tried to convince him to come to this, y’know. Now I can tell him about all the Spidey fans he missed out on meeting.”

Peter pressed his lips into a thin smile while shouting every curse under the sun inside his head. Ned and Johnny both stared at him like they expected him to add something to the conversation. When he didn’t, Johnny narrowed his eyes. 

“I’m still not convinced you like me,” he admitted. “You look like you’d rather be anywhere else but here. I guess I can’t really blame you after everything I put you through, but still. It hurts. Is there anything else I can do to make up for my shitty behavior? There’s nothing worse than having eyes as lovely as yours look at me with such animosity.”

Ditsy warmth crept into his ears as a confusing hodgepodge of emotions washed through him. It both thrilled and disappointed Peter that Johnny was speaking to him like this. Of course he enjoyed being called pretty and lovely by his crush. Every compliment he tossed his direction sent the butterflies in Peter’s belly into a mad rush through his digestive tract. But it only confirmed his gloomiest suspicions: Johnny’s flirtatious behavior wasn’t exclusive to Spider-Man. He charmed everyone this way—captivating hearts left and right without even trying. It was encouraging to know that he liked the way Peter looked beneath his mask, but disheartening to realize his relationship with the webhead was truly nothing special. 

“Don’t mind him,” Ned said. He peered back at Peter, cracking a wicked grin. “He’s not mad; he’s just nervous to talk to you. You’re his biggest crush, after all.”

Johnny’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. Ned let out a fiendish giggle. Peter’s jaw fell open as his skin turned to molten iron. 

No he did not.

As the blush in Peter’s face permeated his bones, Johnny’s gaze snapped back to him. The teen’s mouth curled in delight. 

“Oh really?” he mused. “Is that true, pretty boy?”

“Y-your sister asked me to give this to you,” Peter blurted out before Ned or Johnny or anyone else had the chance to say another goddamn word. He shouldered past his snickering friend and jabbed his arm towards Johnny with the sunscreen in his fist. “She said you burn easily.”

Blinking, Johnny took the bottle from him, then scoffed. “Are you serious?” He turned in the direction of his elder sibling, lifting the sunscreen high above his head. “Sue!”

Dr. Storm glanced up from the fan-made doll she was admiring and cut a frown in Johnny’s direction. When Johnny mouthed “the fuck?” at her, pointing at the bottle, she mimed rubbing sunscreen on her face in reply. The Human Torch groaned.

“I can’t believe she put you up to this,” he muttered. “She’s ridiculous. I already applied plenty this morning.”

Despite the embarrassment ingesting him like quicksand, an unexpected smile seized Peter’s lips at Johnny’s childish irritation. He tapped a finger to his cheek. “Based on how red your face is right now, I think she’s doing you a favor. You definitely look like you need some more.”

Recapturing his gaze, Johnny returned his smile with roguish amusement. “I could say the same for you, darling—although I’m pretty sure yours is red for different reasons.”

Once again, Peter’s heart leapt inside his chest, the color in his cheeks deepening even more. Being subjected to Johnny’s flirtatious teasing without a mask to conceal its demonstrable effect on him was a whole new level of mortifying Peter had no interest growing accustomed to.

“What did it for you?” Johnny inquired, squirting sunscreen into his palms and gingerly dabbing it onto his face. “The hair? The teeth? My redemptive philanthropy and bottomless altruism? Or is it the flames? It’s usually the flames.”

Peter knew he was only asking to get a rise out of him, but Johnny’s question presented him with an opportunity most people would never encounter: the chance to confess to one’s crush exactly how one felt about him without enduring the consequences of him knowing who he was actually talking to. Spider-Man could never tell Johnny how he truly felt—but Peter Parker could. Because Peter Parker was no one to him. 

He would not gush over every detail of what made Johnny the object of his affection; Johnny got that every hour of every day, and his ego was already big enough as is. Instead, he would keep it short, simple, and honest—and perhaps grant the Human Torch a taste of his own mischievous medicine for a change.

So Peter swallowed his sticky insecurity and took a step closer to him, leveling his gaze with the smug twinkle in Johnny’s eyes. 

“I like that you don’t care about anyone’s opinion of you except for the people most important to you,” Peter stated matter-of-factly. To top it off, he reached out and gently rubbed the streak of sunscreen on Johnny’s forehead into his skin, gliding his thumb across the scar just above his eyebrow. “But the hair and the flames are a nice added bonus.”

Although already pink with sunburn, Peter swore he saw the Human Torch’s cheeks flush a shade darker, and his enhanced hearing picked up on the sound of his heart thumping a few beats faster. A triumphant smirk found Peter’s lips. Just because he was the one with the crush didn’t mean Johnny got to have all the fun with it. He let his thumb drag along the line of Johnny’s temple as he pulled his hand away. The Human Torch blinked at him, lips parted, eyes wide, then lightly touched where Peter's finger had been, tiny wisps of smoke curling off his scalp. 

“What’s your name?” he asked suddenly. There was no toying or playfulness in his tone this time—only genuine interest. Now it was Peter’s turn to be caught off guard. He supposed there was no point in lying. 

“Peter,” he said.

“Peter what?”

A shy giggle escaped him. “Parker. Peter Parker.”

Johnny giggled back. “Well then, Peter Parker. You’re a very mysterious person. I like that.” He held up his fist for Peter to bump. “It was great to see you again. Looking forward to the next time we meet.” 

Peter smiled, reaching out to tap his knuckles to Johnny’s, but froze just before they made contact. Despite the heat, a sudden chill crawled up his spine. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Fear raked its claws across his skin. 

“Peter?” he heard Ned call, followed by a rumble of excited chatter from the crowds surrounding them. A moment later, a shadow rose up behind him, blocking out the sun, casting Johnny’s wide eyes in a shaft of darkness. A monstrous hand curled around his shoulder, making Peter’s entire body seize up. He knew who it was before he even saw his face or heard his voice. His senses had warned him of that ruthless presence many times before. His lungs had screamed for air as those bloodthirsty fingers crushed the oxygen from his windpipe. 

“Pardon me,” the man behind him said, his voice as deep and haunting as he remembered. The last time he’d heard it, it was roaring with laughter as Peter fled through a shattered window, glass slicing his hands, broken ribs crunching like glow sticks, vision tunneling with pain and terror. “Mr. Storm and I need a moment alone, if you don’t mind.”

Peter’s eyes slowly rose to find the face of the man looming over him. He had brutal eyes and deep frown lines that fixed him with a constant look of vitriol, even when he was smiling. His bald head gleamed in the sunshine like a freshly peeled egg. 

Kingpin. 

Wilson Fisk didn’t even bother to look at Peter as he shoved him out of his way. He regarded him with the same courtesy a charging elephant awards a twig. Peter stumbled back into Ned, very nearly knocking both of them to the ground. Photographers and media workers immediately flocked to the scene, knocking into the two teens as they jostled for space with Fisk’s bodyguards, blocking Johnny from Peter’s view. Alarm flooded the young hero’s veins. 

“Fisk,” Peter breathed. “I—I have to stop him. He’s going to hurt—”

Ned yanked him backwards with a hand around his bicep. “Peter, we can’t,” he whispered fearfully. “Come on—we have to go.”

Peter turned on his friend in disbelief. “We can’t just leave him!” he hissed. “What if Fisk attacks him for all those things he said? I have to be here to help!”

“Fisk won’t attack him in broad daylight,” Ned insisted. “Not with all these fans around. He’s a politician. Besides—if he tries anything, the Fantastic Four will wipe the floor with that loser. You’d be risking exposing your secret identity for nothing.” He gave his arm another sharp tug. “Come on. We’re gonna get in trouble.”

“But—” Peter protested, eyes whipping back to the mob of people and the barbaric murderer standing between him and Johnny. This wasn’t right. This was downright treacherous. Johnny had risked everything to protect him when he was in trouble. Peter had to be there to make sure he was safe. He’d reveal himself to the whole world if that meant keeping Johnny safe.

“All right, boys. Move along.” One of Johnny’s security guards marched towards them with a scowl, wafting at them with his hand like they were an unruly stench he was trying to get rid of. “You’ve had your turn. Either move to the back of the line, or beat it.”

Ned nodded fervently. “Got it. We’re going, Thank you, sir.” Ned gave Peter’s forearm another quick jerk, forcing him to lurch back a few treasonous steps. For half a second, his eyes found Johnny’s amidst the throng of people pressing around the young celebrity’s booth. They looked startled, confused, but not afraid. Sweat slipped down Peter’s shoulder blades and dampened the back of his T-shirt. 

You should be afraid, Flame Brain.  

“He’ll be okay,” Ned tried to reassure him, practically dragging his friend away from the queue. “Fisk won’t touch him. He’s not that stupid.”

“I have to be sure,” Peter answered hollowly. 

Even though the sun was beginning to dip beneath the horizon, its piercing glow seared Peter’s flesh worse than it had all day.  

Johnny met Peter Parker’s gaze one last time before the boy disappeared behind a wall of bodies and cameras. For some reason, his soft brown eyes were charged with fear, the color in his cheeks draining to a pallid gray. He looked like he’d seen a ghost when Wilson Fisk and his posse rolled into their fundraiser as if they owned the place. 

Sweet guy. Cute, too. He’d always been a sucker for baby browns and curly hair. Too bad Johnny’s heart was solely preoccupied with arachnid-themed superheroes who may or may not be heterosexual. Despite Reed’s certainty on the matter, the verdict was still up for debate as far as he was concerned. 

He turned his attention back to the unnaturally large man towering over him like a skyscraper in a three piece suit. Cold, calculating eyes bored into his own. The smell of Mont Blanc cologne mixed with heavy perspiration assaulted his nose in the most unpleasant fashion. He had the air of an oversized baby parading around in designer brands, but with enough power to keep you from making jokes about it. 

Johnny had never spoken to Wilson Fisk before. He’d spotted him a few times attending the same galas and charity events as him—only because he was almost impossible to miss—but they had yet to meet face-to-face. He supposed neither of them had had a reason to until now. 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Storm,” Fisk greeted him. He wore a smile that resembled a constipated sneer. “Fundraiser going well, I presume?”

Despite the climbing of his pulse, Johnny fixed his features into an expression of bland disinterest. “Sure is,” he replied, gesturing haphazardly to the thermometer-shaped donation log behind him. “This one’s on track to be our best one yet. There’s something about puppies and kittens in need that makes guilt-ridden rich folk unusually eager to open up their hearts and their wallets.” Johnny nodded towards Fisk’s guards, who had set up a perimeter between them and the impatient queue of fans, blocking anyone from stepping within a 30-door radius of their boss. “That’s why you’re here disrupting our entire event, right? ‘Cuz you’ve got a big check to cash for all those poor little animals?”

Wilson Fisk chuckled—a deep, guttural sound that rolled like thunder from his barrel-shaped chest, making Johnny’s skin crawl. “Of course,” Fisk assured him, patting the breast pocket of his silver suit jacket. “I wouldn’t dream of showing up to a function hosted by the Fantastic Four without my checkbook and pen handy. Your sister has truly mastered the art of monetizing your team’s image.” He flashed a barracuda grin. “For the poor little animals, of course.”

Sweat slipped between his skin-tight suit and the bend of his spine as Johnny ventured a glance in Susan’s direction. She was doing her best to stay focused on the fans at her booth, but the fear in her eyes was electric each time they flickered his way. 

“But first, I’d like to talk about some of the alarming comments you made about me recently.”

Johnny faced the man in front of him with a calm frown. “Saying those things was a mistake I assure you won’t happen again.” He wove his fingers together and placed them on top of the table. “I shouldn’t believe every flippant piece of gossip I hear that finds its way to me through the rumor mill. And I certainly shouldn’t tell others about anything I’ve heard until I have undeniable evidence supporting my claims.”

Fisk flared his nostrils at the teen's beguiling response. “I can assure you, Mr. Storm, that whatever insidious hearsay you’ve been told about me is entirely false. A full breakdown of my business operations and my personal history is available to the public on my website. I have nothing to hide.” The jagged creases in his forehead deepened. “I’m running for mayor of this city to combat crime and purge the corruption that plagues our political systems, and the last thing I need is a high-profile public figure such as yourself casting doubt on my credibility and defaming my name. The people of this city trust you, Mr. Storm. Your words hold power. It does not serve you well to use that power to spread lies.”

Johnny’s gaze hardened. “Like I said,” he told him firmly. “Won’t happen again.”

“I’m afraid I need you to do better than that." Fisk adjusted his tie, running his fingers along the ornate silk detailing. “You see, I’m the only mayoral candidate with a plan to work directly with superheroes such as yourself to reduce crime and make this city safer. I want the Fantastic Four to become an official part of the justice department so we can all band together to get bad guys off the streets. It’s to your benefit that I’m elected—and for that to happen, not only do I need you to stop tarnishing my name to your followers. I need your direct endorsement. You can get me the youth vote, and I can get you and your team all the funding and authorization needed to do what you do better than ever before. We can help each other, Mr. Storm. If I win, we all win.”

Johnny crossed his arms against his chest and tilted his chin slightly upward. “Not according to Spider-Man.”

The slippery smile on Fisk’s lips fell in an instant. Darkness twisted his features into an expression that turned Johnny’s guts to ice. 

“Ah,” Fisk growled. “Yes. Spider-Man.” He pulled a handkerchief out of his jacket and dabbed at the beads of sweat speckled across his hairless head. “Tell me, Johnny—how long have you been acquainted with our friendly neighborhood menace?”

“Long enough to know he’s not a menace,” Johnny shot back. “And that both of us have plenty of reasons not to trust you.”

“And what reasons might those be?”

Johnny opened his mouth, then quickly shut it again, swallowing. If what Spidey suspected of Fisk was true, it might be dangerous for him to know how much Johnny knew about his illegal proclivities. When Johnny didn’t answer, Fisk grinned, laying his palms on the table between them and leaning in closer.

“Whatever it is he’s accused me of, why don’t you ask him to provide you some proof. Any proof. I guarantee he’ll have nothing but empty promises and blatant falsehoods to support his baseless claims.” He pressed further into Johnny’s personal space—so much so that he could feel the heat of his breath when he spoke. “Spider-Man is a depraved criminal, Mr. Storm. The kind that plays the part to earn your trust, then tears you down when you least expect it. I trusted him once too, you know—as I’m sure many others have. But it always leads to the same painful conclusion: his fear and envy of true power driving him to dismantle those in possession of it.”

Johnny pursed his lips, daring not to breathe, but refusing to back away from the unsightly face lurking uncomfortably nearer to his own. 

“You’re a clever boy, Johnny,” Fisk continued. “Strong, talented, and influential, as well. All things that Spider-Man loves to bleed dry from his victims. I’ve been able to evade his destructive path thus far, but I’d hate to see you befall the fate that has led this city to curse the arachnid’s name.” Fisk erected his spine and held out a massive hand for Johnny to take. “Join me, Mr. Storm. Together, we can rid New York of Spider-Man’s foul presence, and ensure that the Human Torch becomes the most powerful and beloved superhero this world ever sees.”

Johnny’s eyes lowered to the massive palm presented to him, then flicked back up to meet Fisk’s. It was an effort not to wrinkle his nose in revulsion as he willed his face into an unreadable wall. He cleared his throat, then stood from his chair, rising to be as close to eye-level with the man as all 5’11” of him could manage.

“First of all, I’m already the most powerful and beloved superhero. If there’s anyone here who's afraid of my power, it’s you.” Flames fizzled off his shoulders and danced down his forearms. “Second, Spider-Man is my friend—and a good fucking person. If you plan to hurt him, you’re going to have to go through me first. And trust me when I say that if things get to that point, winning an election will be the least of your concerns.”

The two of them stared each other down, a live wire running between their locked gazes. Fisk’s eyebrows knit together as his expression took a turn for the deadly. His outstretched hand cinched into a fist. 

“And trust me, young man,” he sneered, “when I say that I am not somebody you want to make your enemy. You think you’re the only person here with power and influence? I’m just as capable of lifting you up as I am of bringing you down.”

Unease simmered beneath Johnny’s skin. “Is that a threat?” he asked coldly.

“No,” Fisk replied, flashing a Cheshire Cat smile. “It’s a promise.”

Johnny held the beastly man’s glare, suppressing a shudder. He clenched his jaw, gradually diminishing the flames roiling across his body. 

Spider-Man was right about him.

Fisk’s hand suddenly slipped inside his suit jacket, making Johnny tense up reflexively. He grinned at the fear in the young hero’s eyes as he retrieved a thin piece of paper from a hidden inner pocket and held it out for Johnny Storm to take.

“Whatever your final earnings for the fundraiser are, match ‘em. Everything but the dollar amount is already filled in. That should suffice for my untimely intrusion and make all those misfortunate animals happy, yes?”

A wave of dread washed over Johnny as he reluctantly accepted the check from his bowling ball-sized fist. Something told him whatever donation amount they ended up cashing in from Fisk, it would clear instantly, and be bathed in blood. 

“I do hope you reconsider my offer,” Fisk added. “You and I share many passions and could accomplish great things together. Who one chooses to align oneself with can make or break his future.” He shook his head solemnly. “It’d be a shame to nail yours to the same crucifix Spider-Man has nailed his.” 

With that, Fisk rapped his knuckles against the table, signaled something to his army of guards, then turned and walked away. Johnny watched his boulder of a back shrink farther and farther into the distance and released a slow, shaky breath, grateful to be free of the man’s inky leer, but unable to shake the disquieting queasiness his presence had left him with. He took a long sip of water and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 

Well. I’m definitely not publishing that apology now.

“Johnny?” the next fan waiting to meet him called from an awkward distance away. She clutched a Human Torch Squishmallow close to her chest and offered a hesitant smile. “Can, um—can we come over now?” Her along with the rest of the patrons whose line stretched as far as the eye could see peered back at him impatiently, each of their turns with the celebrity hero well overdue.

“Yes—right—sorry. Of course.” Johnny scrubbed a hand through his hair and waved her forward, painting on his happiest, friendliest face. “Welcome, everyone. So sorry for the delay. Step right up, beautiful. Oh, wow—I love your shirt! Where’d you get it from?”

As Johnny chatted and signed stuff and collected donations from people, pushing down the paranoia Fisk had afflicted him with like poison, struggling to stay cheerful and energized for the sake of his fans, he swore he spotted a flash of red out of the corner of his eye. It vanished the moment he looked directly at it, evanescing into the branches of a large maple tree, but he could’ve sworn it was real. And something about that particular shade of red was unusually familiar to him. 

He supposed it could’ve been a bird, a kite, some trick of the imagination. He didn’t have time to dwell on it anyhow. He had fans to entertain and a fundraiser to run. If Fisk wanted to flaunt his excessive liquidity about, Johnny was determined to squeeze every last penny he could get out of him. 

[lizardaggro]

student 21's villain academia, pt 1

so. not twst bully!au part 4. it's not canceled don't worry; i'm just having a couple health issues at the moment and this one was closer to being done. i've literally been working on it for 5 days, so... it was time.

this one is a bit slow to get started, as in it still hasn't kicked into action yet, but by part 3 or so you'll see my vision. this is an x gn!reader, so anyone can read it, and no, aizawa is NOT one of the love interests. i'd rather die than ship him with a student. i have no idea if this au has been done before; you don't have all the information yet so don't jump to conclusions about me copying so-and-so. this idea has been rattling around in my brain for like a year so i'm super excited to finally get it out! genre: gn!reader, fluff, found family, romance coming eventually, canon-typical angst trigger warnings: reader has a panic attack word count: 2004

You didn’t really consider yourself one of those ‘crazy anime fans.’ No, you were more subdued in your interests. You didn’t own hundreds of dollars’ worth of merchandise, nor did you insist on watching the latest episodes right when they aired. And above all, you would never try to force your passion onto others.

Lately you’d been really into a rather popular action anime by the name of Boku no Hero Academia, or My Hero Academia in English. It wasn’t perfect, but something about the characters just sucked you in. They were just kids, only fifteen years old, and suddenly they were faced with enemies backed by a villain even the strongest hero struggled against. Thus, you couldn’t help but feel little ashamed of yourself as you fell asleep to the ending song of the latest episode.

When you woke up, it was very abrupt. You were certain you’d been asleep on your couch, but suddenly you were standing in the middle of a busy street. Not wanting to be stuck there when the light turned green, you hurried to the other side. Was this a lucid dream? You’d never had one of those before, but there wasn’t another plausible explanation.

Taking in your surroundings, all the signs definitely weren’t in English, but somehow you could understand them. Was that Japanese? Huh, all that anime must be rubbing off on your subconscious. You caught sight of a TV inside an electronics store displaying the news. You didn’t know where you were supposed to be, so maybe that could give you a clue.

“Hinata here, reporting in from Musutafu News,” a young woman announced, “just this morning, up and coming villain Bakugou Katsuki wreaked havoc on a suburban neighborhood, completely destroying 8 homes. Can you believe he’s only 15?! Goodness, what has society come to? Fortunately, there were no casualties, but our experts believe it’s only a matter of time. And now, for the weather forecast…”

You tuned out the rest, in a complete state of shock. Bakugou is a villain? What sort of dream is this? Sure, he’s loud and violent and tells people to die on the regular, but he’s not a criminal! Is this some sort of joke? Is your subconscious playing some kind of trick on you? There’s some sort of nagging feeling in the back of your mind, like you should know something about this situation, but you just can’t recall.

You decide to keep walking, instead of staring blankly at the television like an idiot. Maybe you’ll find someone or something that can explain what’s going on. With luck, it’ll be one of the main characters. If you’re really unfortunate, you’ll find someone from the League. But who knows, maybe they’re the good guys here.

After about 10 minutes, it hits you. This is one of those alternate universe thingies! Your cousin, who’s far more invested in the fandom than you are, was trying to explain them to you at a family gathering, but you were only half listening. Now that was a mistake. Even worse, she seemed convinced that some people actually got transported into the worlds of anime! No wonder you weren’t paying attention. Clearly she had a screw or two loose. Yeah, there was simply no way something like that had happened to you. This was a dream, plain and simple.

But then the building right next to you caught fire. You were sure there was nothing before, but there was a fire and it was very, very big and very, very hot. Suddenly this all felt too terribly real. Was it a villain attack? Oh no, you were doomed. You were going to die- you’d only just gotten here and you were already going to die-

“It’s going to be okay,” you heard a gruff voice say.  It was probably Japanese, but you could understand it all the same. “Take deep breaths, one at a time. The heroes are already here, they’re apprehending the villain right now,” you heard him say softly. You did your best to follow his advice. In, pause, out, pause. In, pause, out, pause. After a while, it wasn’t so hot, and you could turn to look at the person who had calmed you down. You weren’t one to judge, but he looked like he needed some help- holy cow that’s Aizawa!!

Okay, you were not expecting that. Sure, you were hoping you’d run into a friendly canon character, but you didn’t think it’d happen that easily! You knew you needed to say something though, or this would be painfully awkward. “I, um,” you spluttered, “I’m a huge fan, Eraserhead. Can I get an autograph?”

“A fan, really? I don’t have too many of those.” He looked pleased, but also a bit confused. That was to be expected, considering he’s an underground hero. “Sure, do you have any paper on you?”

Ah. That was a bit of a problem. You searched your pockets, turning up absolutely nothing, not even your phone. “Nope. Nothing. Guess I won’t be getting that autograph, huh?” You were disappointed, of course, but it wasn’t the end of the world. As messed up as this world seemed to be, you were probably better off not meeting any more canon characters unless they were saving your life. This was just a lucky chance.

“Ah, well, that’s too bad. Hey, kid, you don’t seem like you’re from around here. Are you lost?” Aizawa asked. You did a double take, wondering if it was really that obvious. Kid, though? How old were you?

“Um, yeah, I’m pretty lost, I think. I’m not really from around here,” you vaguely expressed. Even you weren’t sure where here was. You were beginning to fear that this might just be your new reality, but naturally you couldn’t just accept that out of the blue. A large part of you was holding out hope that this was just a crazy dream. Because if Bakugou was a villain in this world, then what did that mean for the rest of the characters?

“You think? Did you hit your head or something? I can take you to the hospital to get it looked at,” he offered. You were pretty sure a concussion was the least of your worries, but sticking with Aizawa seemed safer than being alone in a strange place, at least. He did appear a little suspicious of your condition, but you were only telling the truth. You had no idea what was going on either.

“That might be a good idea. Thank you,” you agreed with a nod. While the doctor wasn’t likely to find any brain damage, you could at least see if you had the quirk factor gene thing or not. The odds were next to zero, but if this was a dream, you might just turn out to be super overpowered!

Yeah, right. Even if you did suddenly find yourself being up to par with some of the main characters, there wasn’t much you could do with it. Public quirk usage was illegal, and it’s not like you’d end up in a hero school with zero documents to prove you actually existed.

You and Aizawa walked in silence, presumably to the nearest hospital. You really hoped he wasn’t also a villain in this world. But if he was, then why would he have helped to calm you down? So, you were probably safe. For now, at least. You couldn’t cling to him forever.

When you reached the hospital, Aizawa took you to the emergency room. You didn’t think you were that much of an emergency, but you couldn’t provide much of a counterargument without revealing too much. What were you supposed to say, anyway? “Oh, hey, by the way, you’re just a character from an anime I watched back home, except for some reason the timeline got really messed up and now Bakugou’s a villain?” As if! He’d think you were crazy!

So instead, you went along with it as you were brought back almost immediately. You weren’t sure if it was because they thought you had a head injury, or because you were with a pro hero. Either way, it wasn’t fair to the other people waiting, those who actually needed help. But again, there was nothing you could do.

Several annoying and probably unnecessary tests later, a doctor came back to your room to speak with you. “Well,” she began, sitting down on a stool, “I have good news and bad news. The good news is that all the tests came back normal. The bad news is, well, none of our staff could find any information on you. Are you sure your name is in our system correctly?”

You knew this would happen, unless the universe magically decided to cover for you. “Yes, they’re correct. I just, I don’t really remember anything else. I know that and some basic information but that’s about it. I don’t even know where I come from, just that it’s not here,” you told her, trying to be as calm as possible. You’d had plenty of time to think about what to do while you were waiting on the results, and you figured amnesia was the best option.

It was true, in a sense, that you didn’t know where you came from. You were beginning to be convinced that this was reality, but you didn’t know how. Was this some sort of parallel universe? You didn’t know how all that physics stuff worked, but that sounded the most likely.

The good news about the timeline being messed up was that you didn’t have to worry about your presence messing things up. You were basically free to do whatever you wanted. You were, however, severely limited by the fact that according to the government, you weren’t a real person.

The doctor and Aizawa shared a look. “Well, I’m going to step out and have a chat with the doctor here about what to do next,” Aizawa said in a tone that didn’t betray anything. That made you nervous. Were you in trouble because you’d said you were his fan? Were you going to be interrogated, or worse, sent off to Tartarus, never to see the light of day again?

No, you’d be fine. Everything would be fine. You just had to focus on your breathing, and try not to think about everything that could go wrong. From what you knew about him, Aizawa wouldn’t turn on you so quickly. You hadn’t done anything wrong.

After a surprisingly brief amount of time, Aizawa re-entered the room alone. The doctor must’ve left to go see other patients. “Hey kid, it sounds like you’ve been through a lot. So until we figure out what to do with you, you’re welcome to crash at my place. I’m guessing you don’t have any school to attend?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Aizawa,” you mumbled. What else were you supposed to say, anyway? Who knows, maybe you could go for a career in acting after all this was over. You’d have plenty of practice by then, that’s for sure. You felt guilty for lying to him, of course, but what choice did you have?

“I figured as much. I’ll talk to the principal at the school I teach at and see if we can’t get you enrolled when the new school year starts two weeks from now,” he supplied. You tried not to let your surprise show on your face. You were going to go to UA?! Nezu would still have to agree, but this was beginning to sound like a classic main character development. You didn’t want this hero academia; especially not when everything could be messed up!

“In the meantime, I’m sure you must be exhausted. Come on, let’s go home,” Aizawa said. Home. That was a nice sentiment. Here you were, in a new world all by yourself, unsure of what was the same and what had changed. But at least you had a place to rest your head.

taglist: @bluesherricokes

[autisticwriterblog]

I was tagged by @pintsizeninja. Thanks for tagging me!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2345. That's what happens when you've been posting since 2016 and don't study or have a job for health reasons so you've got nothing better to do than write fic. 😂

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

2,682,156 words

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently it's Alan Wake and Control, with occasional dips into Dishonored and sports anime like Haikyuu.

4. Top five fics by kudos

All of these are old (like over 6 years old) and I'm not that proud of most of them (especially the HP one because fuck it). But they're popular for some reason, so here they are!

Healer - My Hero Academia

The Boggart - Harry Potter

NSFW OTP Challenge: Erasermic - My Hero Academia

"Keep breathing." - My Hero Academia

The Date - My Hero Academia

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try my best to, because I really appreciate every comment I get.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Let's stick with Remedyverse fics for this question. In that case... I'll pick:

Five Times Ilmo Hugged his Brother (and the Time he Didn’t) - because for spoiler reasons, we all know why Ilmo doesn't hug Jaakko at the end. It's otherwise a fluffy or hurt/comfort fic until the end and then bam! Angst!

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Again, sticking with just my Remedy stuff... let's go with:

The First Step is Always the Hardest - from my Ahti/Norman series.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I have done in the past, to the point I've needed to block them on ao3. Just the other day, I got a transphobic hate comment on an old fic. Luckily, it hasn't happened with my current fandoms.

9. Do you write smut?

Quite often, yeah.

10. Craziest crossover?

It's more an AU than a proper crossover, but recently I wrote an Alan Wake fic set in a Zero Escape AU.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

A few times, yeah. It was super flattering to be approached with the offer to translate my fics!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope, and I'm not sure I'd want to.

14. All time favourite ship?

All time? Hmm... let's go with my faves for my current fandoms, plus a few I've written a lot for in the past/think about a lot:

Ahti/Norman MacDonald - Alan Wake (my incredibly niche rarepair that I love a lot)

Jesse Faden/Emily Pope - Control

Amity Blight/Luz Noceda - The Owl House

Micah Bell/Arthur Morgan - Red Dead Redemption (I like enemies-to-lovers and redeeming utterly hateful characters lol)

Kozume Kenma/Hinata Shouyou - Haikyuu

15. What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I've got a half-written oneshot for Critical Role somewhere in my drafts that I never finished. It's about a character getting hit with the Feeblemind spell and the others looking after him.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I like to think I'm good at dialogue.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I really struggle with fight scenes.

18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

If the character drops dialogue in a different language in canon, it only makes sense to do it in fic too. Case in point: the amount of Finnish idioms and swear words I've learned because of Ahti.

19. First fandom you wrote in?

This would've been way back in 2012 when I was 13. On fanfiction.net, I posted (really cringy) fics about The A-Team.

Although, techinically, the first time I wrote a fic was when I was 6. I didn't know other people did it and I certainly didn't share it. But I've got an old story (and illustrations) in a notebook from like 2005 when I wrote about Charlie and Lola, a British kid's show.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Just sticking with Remdyverse again... currently I'd choose:

Episode - part of my autistic Odin series. It's angsty, but also has lots of protectiveness from Tor and Bob being a good friend. i just really like writing about the Old Gods at the moment and I'm especially proud of this one.

Tagging: @quailfence, @koskela-knights, @taniushka12, @hamyheikki and anyone else who wants to do this!

[blackstarchanx3new]

FSR Rambles magic 8 ball-

Here we go again, I feel the chemicals kicking in-

Ah, we've arrived at a scene I literally wanted since I read the manga so I might have some stuff to say. X'D Shadow introducing Vio to Vaati. Like I stated on the posts of these updates, it's heavily implied (And even outright stated in the German translation, thx AK for that info ^w^) Vio met with Vaati directly.

Also his "I can't believe I didn't notice..." line when fake Zelda turns out to be Vaati ALSO leads me to think he knew what Vaati looked like/has met him before....?

In English it's vague as hell but the Viz Translation has a few genuine flubs imo compared to what I've seen of other translations. (The German one seems super accurate from what I've heard? but that makes sense because it was directly translated from Japanese to German apparently. English gives off "interpretation not 1 to 1" vibes.)

Suffice to say: I've REALLY wanted to know how their interactions went down. X'D

Shadow feels he has some leverage with Vaati since TECHICALLY him and Vaati are equals? Even though Vaati bosses him around oof.

Because Creatures of darkness can sense fear, despite Vio putting on a blank face Shadow knows Vio's nervous and kinda tries to subdue it. (He cares aww)

He's really excited to get this out of the way so they can officially work together.

I figure he technically doesn't NEED Vaati's permission but is still getting it anyway: Because he doesn't wanna upset daddy lmfao.

Also the lines about Vaati being "Lazy" and using people: It comes up later

Vaati's entrance here was so fun to think of. Bro was napping or smth lmfao. Loved the idea of his weight being so huge it shoves giant gusts of wind as he rises.

The other 3 in FS seem surprised, I think it's supposed to be Green who shouts "SO THAT'S VAATI!?" during the fight. Already mentioned Vio's "I can't believe I didn't notice" rather than HORROR at the Eldridge monster they're about to take on??? X'D

Figured he got the terror out of the way when he MET Vaati. Because Vio is ya know, not experienced fighting DEMONS and virtually ALONE right now he is obviously shitting bricks at the sight of this huge floating eyeball demon lmao.

He also holds Shadow's hand cause it's cute and Shadow Link is the only person who could MAYBE protect him against Vaati.

I can't with eye contact so maybe I'm just a wuss but Vaati's design is so unnerving to me. X'D Also again: If you know my previous fandom work you know I love creepy/scary scenes. You'll notice I virtually always avoid making characters look AT YOU because I literally hate that so much in manga.

Especially in romance scenes I cannot stand eye contact, don't look at me look at your lover lmfao. So if a character in my comics is looking AT the audience: It's because it's meant to be uncomfortable.

Vio tries to dampen his own fears and Shadow not so casually tries to keep things smooth between them and Vaati. Talking about how great this is.

Vaati can see right through that shit though.

Vio tries to pass off his fear as just being nervous to meet someone so amazing lmfao. Stroke that ego Vio, Vaati's a sucker for that kind of thing.

Vaati wants a moment alone with the hero. X'D Shadow again is very adamant on Vio being on their side because he really thinks they are.

He in THEORY has just as much of a say as Vaati and has MORE of a say considering Vio's fate is up to him because Gannon put him in charge of that.

Which is hysterical considering he's like 14 to 15 here at minimum considering Link's old enough to drink in FSR and Link deals with the curse for 7 years tho their ages are really whatever in the flashbacks. Like the idea of Vaati and a 14 year old having the same amount of say on their evil plans is so damn funny to me lmao. Gannon thinks Vaati is as competent and useful as a literal child and that's HILARIOUS.

Vio is quick to realize Shadow's wording here and that SOMEONE is a bigger player. He assumes Gannon because that's the only name he has to go off of.

Something I noticed in the manga: Despite being Shadow's partner Shadow doesn't EXPLAIN a LOT to Vio. Vio has to ask him things lmao. I genuinely wonder if it's a trust issue thing or if it's a "he didn't ask so I didn't tell" thing. I had to be smart about this scene because Vio and Shadow don't bring up Gannon until like...WAY LATER in the timeline of them hanging out. I really try to take into consideration the timeline of the actual manga while writing in-between scenes. I'd love to do an entire rewrite of FS but I do not have the time or patience for that. X'D

Honestly the most annoying thing about writing in between scenes is just how WEIRD it is from like: a regular ass person perspective.

Like it's not natural to be like "Yeah lol Gannon, I'll wait to bring that up like a week after it was first relevant"

This is done a LOT in media. Lmao literally just experianced a scene like that in JJK volume 0. It's like for the audiences sake, always awkward and ALWAYS done for exposition, and it's ALWAYS weird from like: an actual person conversation side of things? Idk if I'm articulating this well lmao.

So Shadow was told to leave the room because Vio brings up Gannon to gain Vaati's trust and I needed a reason for Shadow and Vio not to bring up Gannon here because they do later in the manga.

But I thought it'd be clever if Vio brought up Ganon because: He's already gambling might as well use the fact he THINKS the bigger player is Ganon to his advantage.

Anyways: Shadow's still a bro and gives Vio some advice on dealing with Vaati.

The panel of Vaati's eyeball/body taking up the entire background behind Vio while he steels his mind miiiiiight have a very special place in my heart. UwU It's just so ominous.

I wanted to get across just how much of a threat Vaati is. Mans is TERRIFYING. He's also HUGE.

Vio's rightfully terrified of this thing. I really wanted to show the struggle Vio went through with this plan because it was A HUGE RISK. I feel kinda snuffed we didn't get to see Vio's struggles with this plan in the manga save a few panels of him looking guilty.

We were robbed by page restraints and I'll never forgive whoever only gave Akira 2 volumes for FSA for that, they did SO GOOD for what they had to work with though so don't think I'm dunking on them for this.

I also get the liberty of giving thought bubbles. Smth I noticed is the severe LACK of thought bubbles in FSA?

Also 1 on 1 convos but that's a whole other thing. Again, time and page restraints would be my assumed reason. Pacing in FSA was rushed so I can't really say "For pacing reasons" imo.

So we get to see inside Vio's head as he goes through this, he uses Shadow's assumptions about him here: "Admitting" he always had second thoughts and admired the darkness.

Vaati is obviously skeptical of this nonsense considering who Vio is.

Vio really hams it up.

Bringing up Gannon which surprises Vaati considering NONE of the heroes should even know about Gannon. He is purely there to distract them while Gannon gains power after all lmao.

The fact one of them KNOWS is not only surprising but kinda scary!

Vio continues to show his "faithfulness" by bowing and declaring his loyalty.

His words hit different for somebody who's been through the same shit as Vio's describing, as Vaati's eyes widen and his wings droop as Vio continues to describe how he would have been despised. If you don't know: Minish Cap manga explains Vaati worshipped the darkness and was a bit of an outcast.

Vio's mind is on one person only at this moment: Princess Zelda! :D

Vio cares about Zelda deeply as we'll continue to see through FSR.

I don't like to see it as romantic (Just because I think Vio is gay but that's a whole other thing), but he is DRAWN to her and wants to protect her no matter what, because well a LOT of reasons.

1. He's apart of Link. And this version of Link and Zelda are childhood friends and deeply care about each other. So just on a personal level he wants her to be alright

2. He's apart of the chosen hero destined forced to save hyryle.

3. I kind of like to think Zelda Gannon and Link have the Triforce in FSR at least, and it's drawn to itself. Side note: Would love for the Triforce to appear on Link/the four's hands at some point. Because I love that design motif on Links.

The moment of truth...Did his plan work? Everything is FUCKED if it didn't...

Vaati just silently stares at him as Vio dares to raise his head to meet Vaati's eye.

But Vio can't even tell if Vaati's looking at him in this moment with that thousand yard stare.

Rightfully: Vio is still shitting bricks.

Lol so that blurred word bubble is Vio stating "Lord Vaati?" but Vaati can't hear him lmao.

He's too busy wrapped up in remembering the time he grave robbed-

Jokes aside: You might have noticed smth a tad ODD about being able to see what Vaati was thinking in this moment. But this point is SO FAR from being relevant I'll just leave you to think about it.

If ya noticed it: You noticed. I'll bring it up when it's actually relevant. Which is a LONG time away.

Anyways also if you don't know: Master Elzo gives Link the hat Vaati used to be magical boy at the end of Minish Cap's manga. So Vaati's just stealing it back lmfao.

He is still a demon with magic regardless of the hat, the hat is just a symbol of his bad boy-ness.

Also the idea he "returned" to Minish Cap Link after the dude died was an idea I just could not leg go of.

I maybe have an idea for Minish Cap Link in FSR but I dunno if I'll end up going with it or WHERE. Stuff has changed in the script before so who knows.

Stealing some of Zelda's light force forever fucked Vaati's mind and body up.

You can kinda assume what went down but the general idea is Master Elzo is fucking dead and Vaati's on a downward spiral. Link is dead because the door between the Picori and the Hylians only opens every 100 years. Also the "Using people" line: Vaati often doesn't use his own striength but uses others to achieve his goals. Ya know like a coward. X'D

Nobody ever fully trusted or accepted Vaati after what he did in the events of the Minish Cap manga. Sooooo.

Bro turns back to the dark side.

That's the only thing I could think of after seeing he was "Good" at the end of Minish cap manga I was like "????????" after reading FSA first. X'D

Like did he just wake up one day and decide to be evil again lmfao.

The Zelda manga's reference themselves so I'm under the impression they're all SOMEWHAT connected. SO like- WHAT'S VAATI'S DEAL???

Presumably after this he went on to do the events in the story told at the start of the FS Manga: where he fights the first incarnation of the four hero.

Which holy shit I'd also like to dive into buuuuut mmghhh- It's wild to me OUR Link from FS manga is the SECOND bitch to do this. Like MMHH So interesting to me...

Insanity aside this is my explanation for "Good" Vaati. He just reverted. Like a lot of people would under that scenario.

Lol looking at the same face he did years ago. That must be weird.

Vaati kinda felt a kin-ship with the purple hero cause...YOU KNOW. EVERYTHING I STATED BEFORE THIS. XD

He's a Link-

He's caught off guard by all this so is just kinda like "Oh...Yeah sure you're a part of the team yeah... Yeah...Whatever" Vio broke Vaati by appealing to his trauma lmao.

Shadow spying on if Vio's okay is very funny to me. Dude's worried about his new friend.

Shadow nervously walking up to Vaati after being caught spying is very funny to me. Bro was just keeping an eye on his new Boyfriend. UwU

Vaati asks for Vio's unput well: Because he was on the Four Hero team at one point lol. If he IS evil getting his opinion is a good route to take.

Which he doesn't fully believe considering he's still sus of Vio but doesn't feel like arguing with Shadow, who is the equivalent to his boss's entitled bratty kid.

Vio of course gets leverage to go to Death Mountain, because he's holding onto the idea he MIGHT be able to regroup.

Vaati's still distracted as fuck from the state of his expression. X'D Like he's kinda just, repeating himself/out of it.

Shadow's just like "Yeah yeah shut up we're great yeah yeah It's fine it's fine"

Shadow takes a moment to just walk ever so casually away from Vaati getting enough distance before showing how happy/excited he is.

I just like drawing Shadow trying to touch Vio in some way he's so starved for attention and positive interaction. Not having a bad word to breathe about Vio before the betrayal was always funny to me from the manga. He just admires this boy so much.

Like, I like showing off that "He's not really EVIL" side of Shadow link half the fandom seems to DESPISE.

Cry harder we sympathize with Shadow Link in this house. UwU

Vio's cracking under the welcoming nature a little by making a jokes, and even thinks "Man I used to be scared of this dude"

Shadow is just a little guy in love and I like that about him moving on-

Vio laughs at his dumb joke and Shadow's like "Finally you're not a tense weirdo" X'D

Vio's coping hard lmao.

He's still just a kid during these events so it's HARD to deal with what's going on. I wanted to write him getting his cracking through because how normal he acts in the events of the manga leads me to think he steeled himself overtime.

Laughing his ass off before going into a state of pure raw emotion of "Holy shit I could have just died" comes off as jarring and unnerving.

Shadow can tell SOMETHING's wrong but guesses the cause wrong.

Shadow assumes Vio's having a difficulty with the heat.

This goes off of TOTK/BOTW logic where sapphires ward off heat because I think that's awesome.

If I were rewrighting FSA I'd have him give Vio a different outfit or smth like that.

I DO love the sapphire specifically though because um: Anyone remember what the Zora Sapphire was in OOT?

Lmao an engagement ring- X'DDDD

From that one frame of Blue yanking out his hammer from his hat we know they store shit in there. Freakin' Link From the LOZ cartoon has a magic bag that shrinks his shit and I find that hysterical. I like to think Link's hat works similarly.

Vio's blushing and not unsubtle heart skipping is so funny to me.

If the fact Vio kissed Shadow first didn't already get ya:

Vio's in love with Shadow Link too lmao.