#mj: so you are poisonous

[feelingsareforweak]

So I was going through peter parker prompts for the day and came across like very few prompts related to peter being more spider than thought (I mean walking, sitting and sleeping on Ceilings, super power, super sensitive senses thus senses overload, super healing etc etc) and I thought that I may read most of them and here is one I would like to read or maybe write I donno so here it is:

Peter having venom glands!

Like its one of the first thing he checks in his school lab after the intense spiders research session and yup he good two venom glands near his salivary glands abd connected to them

Cue peter being scared shitless of sharing his food with may

Peter always cleans his own utensils so nothing happens

If eating in disposables then he takes care to burn them off

Tony being confused why peter won't share his ice cream with him

May is confused why peter started doing the dishes

And somebody discovering it one day and is like wait what???

[teasemic]

✨_:(´ཀ`」∠):_ ✨

[hemlock-dreams]

How was their first kiss like?

(huge fan of you AU and art style<3)

First kiss? Spidey's (and Wade's) brain go out the window.

Unfortunately, most of Peter's body is poison. :(

I decided to combo the questions and there's an explanation under the cut.

Peter produces venom both on demand but also unconsciously when he's excited/high on adrenaline etc.

When he's producing venom, it mixes into his saliva and acts like a neurotoxin, which can produce intense highs that can quickly tip over into oversensitivity and pain.

His mouth is EXTREMELY sensitive because of this. Wade's skin is like the fourth of july for his brain.

Prolonged internal exposure (kissing/oral/licking a cut/etc) creates a headrush that leaves most normal people unconscious. Skin to saliva contact is just tingly.

(Making out for long periods of time/oral with MJ was NOT on the table- which had MJ coming to wrong conclusions.)

His blood is straight up poison. Would not recommend ingesting. (Don't eat brightly colored spiders, kids!)

His sweat is so negligible as to be be unnoticeable- unless you're wringing towels into your mouth.

His semen also produces intense sensation- mostly oversensitivity, that can be incredibly pleasurable, but can also tip into pain and paralysis for most people. Peter has no idea his semen can do this- because he's never experimented with it (always a condom. ALWAYS).

Because Wade has an incredible healing factor, as well as extensive nerve damage and scarring, he doesn't experience the negative aspects of Peter's venom. A big enough dosage could cause paralysis and death, but it's also going to have to be a WAY bigger hit than Spiderman would normally apply.

This is a super fun learning experience for them both!

Once again, thank you so much for all the support and the asks, it's been so fun figuring Peter's venom out and finding ways to play with him!

@eevylynn

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hey I saw you were really stressed and I know requests aren't the best thing but this has been stuck on my mind, you can delete this or do it when you can. I can wait as long as you need 😊

Can we get Peter B and Miguel (separate or kinda like "we're co-parent friends") with a platonic male reader, reader is a spiderman for his own universe but his universe ended because of him. Now he's ungodly protective of both Peter and Miguel. Like he's put his life on the line multiple different times for those two knuckleheads

I just want fluff 😭

Peter B Parker and Miguel O’Hara

Platonic Headcanons

Peter B Parker

Now, Peter would appreciate how protective you could be, but it got a little overbearing at times, especially after you got impaled by an abnormal doc ock. Hed make you have a sit down with him about how dangerous it is, and how he feels protective of you too, so he doesn’t wanna lose you.

He can only imagine the insane amount of trauma youd have after losing your universe, especially if it was cause on accident by yourself. He would always make sure you have someone to talk too, and somewhere to go if you need it.

He would open his home to you, even after he got back with MJ and had Mayday, and you end up being a common sight in their home, to the point where MJ starts calling you their spiderson, and Pete ruffles your hair and calls you his kid.

Mayday absolutely loves you, even though Peter fears how protective you’ll be of her. If you were protective of Peter, with Mayday it’s a million times worse. He’s pretty sure he’s caught you hissing at other spiderpeople who get too close sometimes.

He still loves you very much, as he’s come to see you as his kid one way or another, you two just have a lot of things you need to work through, and Peter and the rest of his family is with you the entire way.

Miguel O’Hara

Miguel would be annoyed by how protective you were, because deep down he would feel he doesn’t deserve it. Especially after you get hurt protecting him, taking the stinger of an abnormal Scorpion for him.

He wouldn’t know how to feel about you till this point, or why you got attached to him of all people. But as you lay there feverish and hallucinating thanks to the poison from the Scorpion, he sits and holds you in his arms until you fall unconscious.

Miguel understands what it feels like to lose everything, so he’s actually great to come too if you need to talk. He doesn’t say much, but Miguel makes a great listener, especially after he starts caring for you in return.

Would end up calling you his kid on accident, specifically after you got hurt once again on a mission, and he yells at you that he cant lose another one of his kids. After that you two have to sit down and come to an understanding about your shared self-sacrificial nature.

You both have gone through a lot, and lost even more, but together you are able to build a tiny family with just two members, and that is more than enough, as long as you have each other.

[sleepdeprivationheadaches]

And now, i gladly present my incorrect quotes for SVSSS

LB: *walking into SQQ’s room* “shizun please see to it that-“

*room is empty except for a shriveled up mushroom on the bed*

LB: “…shizun?” *turns to maid* “where’s my husband?”

•meanwhile, in the Holy Mausoleum•

SQQ: *wakes up in his original body* “…IM BACK IN THIS FUCKING BODY AGAINNN?!?!? OH MY GOD.”

SQQ: *thinking* i may not be the straightest guy but i am straight…

system: *INSANELY LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER*

SQQ: WTF??? SYSTEM I AM NOT GAY??

system: *ANOTHER EVEN LOUDER INCORRECT BUZZER*

SQQ: SYSTEM STOP IM NOT GAY??!!

System: *ANOTHER LOUDER INCORRECT BUZZER*

SQQ: SYSTEM IM NOT GAY

system: “OOC!! OOC!!! -500 B-POINTS” *INCORRECT BUZZER NOISE*

SQQ: *tears streaming down face*

basically svsss:

SQQ: i didn't want to eat with him, but i didn't have a choice…i would’ve lost 5k b-points if i declined.

LB: “you look nice shizun…”

SQQ: “fuck you.” but it’s true…i do look nice. the system forced me to wear a beautiful gown that was just my size…skinny..but i missed my old rags. they smelled like bald donkey shit, but they were mine… *he looks down at his food* “you’ve probably poisoned it” *he says sassily*

LB: *takes a bite to prove he hasn’t*

SQQ: *tries it* damn! the food tastes just as good as it looks…which makes me angry..i don’t need his homemade food!

LB: *smirks at SQQ*

SQQ: he smirks at me, an evil, sexy, evil, sexy, smirk that shows off his pecs..UGH!! i CANT keep thinking like this!! he LITERALLY kidnapped me!!! i don't need him, or his fancy evil castle, or his homemade food, or OP-ness, or plot-armor, or the fact that they brushed my hair for the first time in five years!

and now some cumplane antics

*cumplane doing karaoke*

SQH: “OH FUCK ITS IN KOREAN!!”

SQQ: “oh my god do you know-“

SQH: “SHIT-“ *disney knees stance* “외로운 날들이여 모두 다 안녕 내 마음속의 눈물들도 이제는 안녕 !! (^_-)-☆”

SQQ: “WHAT THE FUCK?!”

SQQ: *telling SQH what happened at the water prison*

SQH: “yk what it’s giving?”

SQQ: “hm?”

SQH: “it’s giving wattpad”

*both start dying of laughter*

SQH: “so i’ve been talking to mobei-jun for a couple of weeks and i think i’m ready to ask him out”

SQQ: “i mean that’s cool that you wanna go out with him but…i heard that he only likes guys with blonde hair like-”

SQH: *hair is now blonde*

SQQ: “…bro.”

SQH: “i-i’m just chillin (·ิω·ิ)”

SQQ: “nah like how are you gonna change your entire self for a man bro like-“

SQH: “bro..he has..a hot…brother”

SQQ: *hair is also blonde now*

SQH: ( ·ิ-·ิ) …

SQQ: “see that’s a different story..”

SQH: “that’s what i’m sayin (๑·̀ㅂ·́)و✧”

airplane bro: *creates origami swan*

Shen qingqiu: “oh what’s that? can i see it?”

AB: *hands it to him* “it’s a paper swan ^_^” *clearly very proud of it*

SQQ: *smashes it and tears it up and sets it on fire* “a dead paper swan.”

AB: *tears stream down face*

*the sun gets blocked out for SQQ… it’s Mobei-Jun*

*the sun gets blocked out for MJ… it’s Luo Binghe*

Thank you for your time.

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

What do you think Katniss and Peeta’s unexpected turn ons are? Like a small innocent thing about the other that drives them wild just because they really love them so much? And makes the other one go “really? 😉”

This was way too much fun to answer and got out of hand. I could probably think up a thousand more of these if I had the time.

<3 kdnfb

Canonically, Peeta cannot lie to Katniss and look her in the eyes. When she figures out that he still can’t post-mj, she uses it to her advantage. She can always tell when he’s trying to fib his way out of accidentally revealing an innocuous secret or a surprise he’s planning, like what he’s getting her for her birthday. And it drives her a little insane. Like “either look me in the eyes when you try to lie to me or take me to bed right now, since you won’t give me my present right now.”

Katniss is a consummate caretaker, to an almost annoying degree. Fortunately for her, she husbanded someone with a caretaker kink. That boy was dying of blood poisoning, raging with fever in a deathmatch arena, and he was still laying down the lines and making her laugh. Every time she fusses over him or bosses him around when he’s got a minor injury or just a little sniffling cold, that man is in full on flirt mode and dragging her into bed with him. “I’ve got a surefire way you can make me feel better.” “If we have sex, will you stop whining and get up so I can wash the sheets afterwards?” she sighs in exasperation as she’s stripping off her clothes and crawling under the covers with him.

Meanwhile, Katniss goes feral whenever Peeta gets a little protective of her. Some whackadoo from the Capitol comes out to Twelve to check on the progress of the new medicine factory and brings a limousine with him on the train, but the roads in Twelve are not made for cars like that and the idiot almost runs people over. So of course, Peeta wraps his arm around his wife and bodily lifts her out of the path. One second she’s walking through town, reciting her shopping list, the next she’s pressed up against a storefront with Peeta’s body caging her in and some idiot driver is careening past, honking his horn. And if you think Katniss doesn’t almost climb him right there and he has to toss her over his shoulder to drag her home before she tears his clothes off, I cannot help you.

Both of them become unhinged morons whenever the other one is a complete mess. 

By this I mean Katniss comes in from tending the garden, her shirt all sweaty and clinging to her. Her hair’s a mess and she’s got a little sunburn on her nose and cheeks and Peeta’s already naked, demanding she take him on the spot. 

Similar response when she comes home a little disheveled from a hunt. “At least let me put the meat in the freezer first, Peeta.” Nope. She gets railed up against said freezer and can’t keep a straight face when they have to invite Haymitch over to eat all this meat because they had to cook it immediately after or it would’ve gone bad.

Peeta starts coming home from the bakery deliberately a little messy. Flour in his hair, sugar stuck to his neck. A random smear of frosting on his arm. Why? Because Katniss starts squirming the instant she sees him and honestly, he really likes it when she mounts him in the hallway because she couldn’t make it the five extra feet to the bedroom.

He’s lost count of how many times they’ve had sex because he didn’t get all the paint washed off his hands before a meal or before bed. And he almost never notices the smear of paint or pencil dust that winds up on his left temple because he brushed back his hair at some point while he was painting/drawing and why is that so hot? She has no clue, all she knows is that she wants to bathe in him. Usually, she manages to wait a little while for that one, mainly because she wants to see what he was painting before she jumps him. What he was painting often dictates the flavor of their sex.

He doesn’t paint the Games as much, after the first time she tells him “Real,” but when he does, the sex is tender and usually happens in the art studio itself, on a paint splattered sofa or on the floor, rolling around on his floor tarps so that both of them are smeared with paint afterwards.

If he’s painting her or other people that they love, they’ll make it up to the bedroom before clothes start flying, laughing and teasing each other the entire way. Katniss will be laughing so hard she snorts while she’s moaning and coming at the same time. Peeta lives to make her snort laughing while she’s coming, btw. Huge turn on, switch flipped to feral mode as soon as she's done coming, and Katniss feels like she won’t be able to walk straight for a day after he finishes inside her.

He uses her as a canvas? Well eventually he's gonna wind up covered in paint too. They go until the paint starts to dry and by then, they're sleepy and content and can barely move anymore.

Painting landscapes and nature scenes? Absolutely feral pig sex where the neighbors worry about them and ask each other if they should… knock? Make sure everyone is still alive in there? Katniss really can’t walk straight for a day after that, but she’s not complaining. Instead she’s demanding her husband carry her around, because he did that to her, after all.

Sadly for Katniss, Peeta carrying her around is something she absolutely loves for the tenderness and silliness of it, but also at times it turns her into a raving madwoman "take me to bed and throw me on it then fuck me this instant before I pull out all my hair, husband!"

And ho buddy, when the two of them come home all sweaty and gross from rebuilding the district? Round one on the floor in the entryway. Round two with skin squealing on shower walls and borderline screaming moans echoing off the bathroom walls. Hair pulling, biting, clawing sex. Let me inside your skin, ten minutes later we’re still actively sweating well damn it that shower was fucking pointless in terms of getting clean sex.

Katniss eats her pie backwards, crust first and Peeta doesn’t know why, but for some reason, he thinks it’s adorable and needs to have her instantly. Haymitch wonders why he no longer gets pie on nights when he eats dinner with them. There’s always dessert… but no pie. So Peeta starts baking Haymitch his own pies and dropping them off, because he’s not giving up his absolute need to toss Katniss on the table and eat her out like he’s a dying man whenever she eats her pie like that.

Peeta looks like he’s solving all of the world’s problems when he’s brushing his teeth. So serious. Sometimes, Katniss will throw small objects at his prosthetic until he notices and giggles when he does, looking at her like she’s an annoying brat. Sometimes, she sneaks up behind him and makes faces at him over his shoulder until he laughs and spits out the toothpaste. Other times, her hands on him are incredibly naughty and the next thing he knows, he looks like a rabid animal in the mirror while he’s bent over the sink, holding on for dear life with her hands on his dick, unraveling him one caress and stroke at a time. But whatever she does, it ends with their sheets an absolute wreck and both of them naked and sweaty and staring at the ceiling going “Wow. So that… happened…”

Katniss bites her nails when she’s nervous and Peeta fixes it by snatching her hand and kissing her from her fingertips up her arms to her neck… where he blows a raspberry until she’s laughing. Do smutty things happen after that? Depends on the setting.

Peeta still flirts with her. Like blatantly, let's see how red I can get my wife’s face flirting with her over the bakery counter or in the town square, in front of literally everyone’s salad. And Katniss just melts like a loon but is secretly plotting how to get him naked asap. She’s not against throwing him against the nearest tree if only there weren’t so many people in the district. Oh but she’s absolutely savaged him against several trees in the woods because he was flirting.

Peeta whistles when he’s working in the bakery. Katniss thinks it’s adorable and sexy as hell. She sings in the shower and Peeta never misses the show, sitting on the toilet or just standing against the sink just to hear her sing. It’s the only time he manages to move silently.

Katniss cannot keep her hands out of Peeta’s hair. Girl is obsessed. And Peeta finds it at turns, adorable, adorably annoying, a mild turn on, or holy hell hot. Like “pull my hair again when I make you come” hot. Conversely, she absolutely loves it when Peeta brushes and braids her hair for her. He’s trying to have a tender, loving moment, and she’s often “are you done yet because as soon as that hair tie is on, i’m gonna be all over you.”

Both of them absolutely love it when the other one laughs. It’s not always a turn on, per se, but when it is… lord have mercy they broke a whole ass bed one time because Peeta laughed at something Katniss said.

Peeta wearing loose, soft pajama pants or the like. Katniss is all hot and bothered and “i’m not that big you can definitely fit me in there with you…” Peeta looks at her like she’s lost it, but they actually do try it once or twice. Numerous pairs of pants have been ripped and sewn back together in this pursuit, and not because she couldn’t fit in there with him.

He’s long since accepted that if they’re dressing up for some occasion, he has to get dressed two hours early. To give Katniss enough time to rip it all off and have her way with him and still have time for them to shower and get dressed again so they’re not late.

Anytime Katniss wears one of his shirts, sweaters, etc, he’s pretty sure he’s going to die unless he gets his mouth or hands on her and then his cock inside her because half the time, she’s not wearing a bra or pants with them, just panties, and he just… has to have her. NOW. While said garment is still on her body. Especially a particular red sweater he was wearing the day they had sex the first time and she wore it the morning after.

She absolutely has a sunset orange nightie that nearly gets removed (or not removed) every time she wears it, but removed or not… either way, Katniss can’t feel her toes after Peeta makes her come as many times as he can whenever she wears it. 

[peaachypie]

Broken arm

Warning : sub!Miguel, masturbation (m receive)

" congrat O'hara, you broke your arm."

Jess stare at him, crossing her arm with her usual expressionless face. Miguel sitting on the bed in the nursery. He was ... boiling.

Holding his anger, but his face was furious.

" congrat ... PETER."

" hey hey slow down big guy, it's not like i did this on purpose !"

Miguel and Jess turn there eyes to Peter b. One with a raised eyebrow as the other one was ... killing him with his eyes.

" ... MJ got a new haircut alright ?! It's important !"

" more important than an anomaly escaping ?!"

He barked, spitting those word like if there were poison in there. He wanted to get up and destroy everything and everyone. Growling like a beast before two soft hands goes on his neck, pushing some spot making him groan in a more relaxed way.

" i'm pretty your wife said not to get angry like that. It didn't end well last time."

You said with a smirk, gently mocking way by the fact that he didn't listen to you.

" Mhngh ... this pendejo broke my arm."

" you've had worse Miguel ..."

You let out a sigh, taking the injector to shoot him the serum he needs. He let escape a groan again, he likes to do it himself.

" broken arm doesn't last long with you, having spider DNA have his good side !"

" don't talk about this..."

He sigh, passing his left hand on his face.

You turn your eyes to the two other spiderpeople in the room, smiling at them with a thankfull expression. Jess leave, taking Peter with her as he was ready to talk to you about your best friend Mary jane.

Unlike the others in the spidersociety, you didn't have any spider DNA, power or even hero role. You were just ... you. The one of the nurse, you used to work in the Nueva York hospital but Miguel wouldn't risk to let you alone during a vilain attack so he brought you here. That way he can keep an eye on you and it's better for him to get healed.

" everything turn bad. The bed broke, my arm too and some other fucking-"

" yeah um except for your arm, everything else is your fault. I should be the one to complain about my bed being destroyed."

You stare at him with a smug face. Miguel groan.

" I can't do anything without my right hand. I can't do paperwork, i can't do what i usualy do ! "

You smile softly at him, hugging him from behind.

" You have me ... i can help for some thing ... you don't have your right hand but i still have mine ..."

You hum softly, your hand running on his shoulder. Before Kissing his cheek, your chest pressing on his back as you slide down your hand along his arm then his stomach.

You can feel Miguel shiver under your touch. Your hand stopping between his legs, on his hardden bulge. He let out a sigh.

" Carinõ ..."

" let me help you with that..."

His suit deprograms on his cock, biting your bottom lips you touch his veiny cock. You lick your palm before wrapping your hand on his lenght, you thumb on his tip. Slowly doing circle around.

" fuck ..."

" aw ... already shaking "

you keep kissing his jaw while moving your hand on his throbbing cock. Whimper coming out of his lips, his fangs on his bottom lips.

He scratch on the bed under him, his hips bucking in the air. His eyes closed and mouth a bit open to let out some warm sigh.

" more ... [Y/N]... please ..."

" you want more baby ?"

Your hand start moving faster on his thick cock, mosly focusing on his tip.

You could feel him on the edge, holding himself not to cum too fast on your hand.

Your finger now fully on his tip, teasing his urethra, doing soft circle. The room filling with his moan and whimper.

" s...slow down...ha...i'm..."

Your head still resting on his shoulder, you look at your hand on his cock until a white shot of cum fall on your hand.

His chest breathing heavily.

You give him one last kiss on the cheek before going to clean your hand.

" feeling better ?"

You say with a grin, turning your eyes to him.

" yes ... thank carinõ"

[lactoseintolerentswag]

yeah reading noir comics past ewoaf. not worth it

Your noir!mj is everything. She deserved so much more than Just love interest laser beam. Like there's so much she could add to the story and I love her

I know!!! It’s insane to just reduce her to only a love interest when she’s such a compelling character. Idk why fun characters who can have agency and will to shape the world and narrative are just never given the chance. It makes for a better story??? But whatever. I have no clue what happens behind the scenes of comic stuff so I don’t even know who to point a finger at LMAO

[pinkpinkmermayyy]

another sketch of spider snow!!! Also adding some story for her below the cut

@punkeropercyjackson @aishabellasbigblogofeverything @weirdo09 @the-cat-and-the-birdie

--

Miles looked at Jess in disbelief when he heard who she said she should call.

"I'm sorry, who??"

Suddenly he heard birds chirping behind him and he looked behind to see about six birds carrying Snow Fucking White down to the ground, who was also wearing a spider mask.

"Hello Jess! You called me?"

--

Alright everyone, let's do this one more time!

My name is Adriana White, also known as Snow White! I bit into a poisoned apple that was bitten by a radioactive spider, and I temporarily died but got woken up by Prince Florian, aka my amazing boyfriend!

Wait wait wait - aren't you just a little concerned about the fact that he kissed you while you were unconscious??

Don't worry, I've known him since we were very young, I'd trust him with my life!

So anyway, now I've been spiderwoman for about six months, and things have been pretty great!

I live with my boyfriend and seven dwarf uncles, who don't know I'm Spiderwoman. I don't plan to tell them yet though, especially not my Uncle Grumpy, who doesn't like her at all.

But I've saved him, my other uncles, and my boyfriend a bunch of times before, and I'm so grateful to have them here with me in Germonia!

Speaking of my kingdom, ever since my stepmother died, the kingdom of Germonia has become much more warm, welcoming, and bright as it was when my mother and father were still ruling, and I wouldn't trade my life here with anything else!!

--

(Germonia is the name of Snow White's kingdom, it's not official but that's what they say it is when I searched it up).

Also more info on Snow Spider:

Besides having the standard abilities of any spider person, she also can summon forest animals and have them attack her enemies and defend her (kinda like Snow White in Shrek 3). She also has a similar ability to Black Canary from Injustice 2, where she can adjust her singing to paralyze her enemies

Her legal name, Adriana White, is inspired by Snow White's original voice actress in the 1937 movie, Adriana Caselotti.

Grumpy is Snow's Uncle Ben in this universe, sorry :(

Prince Florian is her MJ, and I'm headcannoning him to be about 15 in this universe now (officially his age is 18, don't believe anything that says he's 31, but that's still concerning considering Snow is canonically 14).

Pavitr and her are besties, you can't convince me otherwise

[thewriterlyowl]

Random but at the end of Mockingjay when Katniss says she needs "the bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction", and that "only Peeta can give [her] that", she's specifically talking about Peeta as opposed to Other Guy.

Because, fun fact: rue, (evening) primrose, and dandelions are all yellow flowers. All three of the characters associated with them are explicitly linked with hope throughout the series.

Peeta is the obvious one. He's the one who gives her the bread at the beginning that not only physically feeds her in the moment, which in turn inspires her to remember that she is capable of survival, but its probably the first act of kindness remembers since her father has died. The book specifically shows how everyone has abandoned them and there's nowhere to turn. Nobody gives her hope until Peeta does, both as at the beginning of and the end of the story. In addition to making a good salad, dandelions are considered pioneer plants because after a land has been destroyed in some way they're the first ones to colonise it. Just like when Peeta comes back to 12 to help rebuild it.

Then, there's Prim. Prim frequently reminds Katniss that there's beauty in the world. She's the reason Katniss fights throughout the first Games, and you can see that she makes Katniss softer. In CF, she specifically mentions that Prim is one of the reasons she's supposed to keep fighting, because she wants a better world for her. And then in MJ, she feels that hope reignited when Prim says they're training her to be a doctor when she says "this is the sort of future a rebellion could bring". She wants Prim to be reborn into a different world where these things can happen, and she wants to fight to make that world a reality. Yes, evening primrose wilts quite quickly after it blooms (iirc), but it also blooms several times a year, so Katniss will always be reminded of her sister.

My personal favourite, however, is Rue. In the arena, Rue reminds Katniss of Prim, which brings out her protective nature, but also of herself, which is one of the reasons they relate to each other. Both are older sisters who are protective of their siblings. Katniss says it's a bad idea to ally with Rue but she does it anyway for these reasons. But I think the reason Rue represents hope for Katniss is because of how she protects her in the arena. She warns her about the tracker-jackers and draws the poison out of her body. When Peeta describes the Games, he says that the world around you and the people in it become your final reality. Katniss - and anyone else, for that matter - would not have expected a singular act of kindness from the moment they entered the Games. They know the time for kindness is over. I know Snow must have been screaming, crying and throwing up during the 74th because between Katniss volunteering, Peeta protecting her, then Rue protecting her, then Katniss singing to her, and then Peeta and Katniss protecting each other and refusing to live without the other, the rebellion was already starting. Rue could have left her to die, and didn't, which Katniss acknowledges. Instead, she saved her life and lost her own. This is the act of goodness that spurs her on in the Games, and together with Prim, in CF when she considers running away. In sleep, she sees Rue reborn in the same world as Prim, safe in dreams where nothing can hurt her. Dancing in the meadow. Katniss helps create that world for her children, where they play in a field of yellow flowers, likely including Rue. And while the meaning of the name Rue is significant because Katniss regrets not saving her, it's likely significant for Snow and the Gamemakers as well, who likely regret her entering the Games in the first place; the plant (not the flower; the Everlark babies are safe!) Rue is poisonous to the touch, and as soon as Rue enters the Games, it's the beginning of the end of Snow's Games. Rue poisoned the Games with hope! And helped make the Mockingjay.

So anyway, I do think Peeta gives Katniss the most hope for rebirth. They are in love, after all. But Rue and Prim definitely gave her that bright yellow, too.

(Apologies to Katniss because buttercups are also yellow 😂)

[cherryechogalaxy]

No one's talking about how incredibly BPD coded Insomniac Harry/Venom is so I will. This is also essentially an essay so be prepared

I would also like to preface this by saying that this is based on my experiences with having BPD and the diagnostic criteria in the DSM-5

Peter is 100% Harry's favorite person. I mean look at him. The way that he makes every excuse to be around Peter so much so that he practically begged him to work at his company? The passive-aggressive "So you told MJ, but not your best friend?" when he learned that Peter was Spider-Man? And then insists that he work with him as a superhero to kinda push Miles out of the way? The entire high school flashback scene? Not to mention that Harry held Peter in high regard even before he learned that he was Spider-Man.

Also, remember that the symbiote only emphasizes thoughts and emotions that already exist. So when Harry's probably splitting on Peter about the whole Spider-Man thing, the anger is only amplified by Venom.

Now, before y'all say that "all this only happened after Harry got the symbiote," that is simply false. During the final fight with Venom, Peter says that he "came over every single day after school. Even slept over after [his] mom got sick." While yes, Harry not being able to "see her like that" was a component afterward, that doesn't explain Harry's attachment to Peter beforehand. I would also like to comment that Venom says that Harry's mom "always said" that Peter and Harry "make each other better." This is all theoretical, but she might have noticed that Harry's mood or behaviour might have become more outwardly stable or better when around Peter, which from my experience is something that happens when existing around (or even sometimes thinking about) your FP.

Because, at the moment, Harry can only focus on the rage he has toward Peter, he can only think about the bad things, as evidenced by Venom claiming that Peter was there "Until [he] got sick again," which is objectively not true, but BPD alone can exaggerate thoughts to extremes, and the symbiote on top of it makes it worse. Venom continues, "You abandoned us when we were fighting for our lives," and that it didn't feel like Peter was trying to save them when he was. One of the main symptoms of BPD is an intense fear of abandonment, so much so that the person will take extreme measures to make sure that that doesn't happen, such as leaving before they are hurt, or, in this case, hurting the other person first so abandonment seems justified and therefore hurts less.

In the second phase of the fight, Venom declares: "We know what's best for you! For everyone! We gave you everything you ever wanted." This likely has something to do with BPD affecting one's self-image, which may change from 'the most worthless scum of the Earth' to what I like to call 'I can fight God and win.' As Venom, Harry believes that he now has the power to "heal the world" all by himself, enhancing his temporary superiority complex. Only several lines later, however, Harry's unstable self-image flips from 'knowing best for everyone' to 'being a complete failure,' because Venom states, "We've never been good enough for you... or Dad."

Venom goes on to say that Peter "threw [them] away" and then "replaced [them] with Miles. He poisoned [Peter] against [them] even more." Again, this characterizes Harry's intense fear of abandonment, because 'if Peter spends more time with Miles, then he won't have time for him anymore, and therefore matter to him anymore and he'll be left alone.' (These are thoughts I've had on bad days when my FP spent time with other people)

When Peter tries to fight Venom's claims and says that Harry's his best friend, the exaggeration and impulsive thoughts continue, and he says "Then why don't you trust us?" Again, Harry can only think in the negative at the moment, so he fails to see anything good that Peter is doing for him or the emotions that Peter is feeling.

During the cutscene after the second phase, when Peter says that he's "never gonna heal the world with [Harry]," you can see Venom falter, sighing and looking down before the meteorite catches his attention and distracts him.

At last, during the third phase of the fight, Venom turns his attention to Miles, the person who he sees as having caused Peter to 'turn against him' and spend less time with him. He insists that "[his] future doesn't belong to [Miles]," insinuating that Harry should be the one to have a deep and lasting relationship with Peter, not Miles, even though Miles thinks that he's talking about 'healing the world.'

After the third phase when Venom throws Miles aside and buries him under rubble, he tells him and MJ: "Peter doesn't need you anymore... He has us now." because he thinks that he is all Peter needs, when in reality it's Harry that needs Peter, though he might not realize it.

In the fourth phase, he asserts to Miles: "You took him away from us!" Which is strangely familiar to something I said when my FP started spending time with another person.

Another small thing I would like to note, when flying away after the fourth phase, Venom deliberately throws Miles off him, but not Peter. Also, when Miles is falling down with the meteorite in his hands, Venom focuses his attention on grabbing and eating him rather than retrieving the meteorite.

When Peter finally has Venom pinned to the ground and tries to blast the symbiote away from Harry, he claims that he's done and that he can't fight it, then both Harry and Venom state, "You have to KILL us." BPD is also characterized by suicidal ideations or behaviours, and if Harry telling Peter to kill him isn't suicidal behaviour then I don't know what is.

Finally, when Venom is gone and Peter tells Harry that he loves him, Harry smiles what looks like a genuinely content and satisfied smile, like that was the only thing that Harry wanted or needed to hear before he could let himself fall unconscious.

And if that’s not BPD coded I don’t know what is.

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Spinoff Story Vampire & Vampire Hunter part 4

Warnings: severe silver poisoning of vampire, captured vampire, whumper turned whumpee

Alex writhed and screamed with every bit of air in his lungs, eyes rolling in his skull from the agony. The surface of contact was small, but the pain was excruciating, his nerves blasted by fiery pain.

"HEY!"

The coin disappeared at the sound of a loud voice, and Alex's head lolled forward. He was shaking and sucking in gulping gasps of air, feeling his skin cool off. But he hadn't fed in awhile, so the healing process was slow, the pain of the coin-shaped burn lingering. His eyes were watery with pain, and he struggled to focus his blurry vision. Someone else had come barging into the room, and he let out a defeated groan when he realized who it was.

The hunter with the most reasons out of everyone to hate him and make him suffer.

"Julia, what on earth are you doing?!" Mallory's voice was harsh and accusing. "I told you I'd talk to him myself. And torturing him? Seriously?!"

"You shouldn't have to be put through facing this monster!" Julia argued defensively. "How can you not hate him for everything he did to you? You were so broken when you came to my house five years ago, remember? I don't want the leech to have any part of your life anymore. You don't have to be involved in this."

"Pretty sure it's not up to you, considering I'm the one who willingly got 'involved' in this to begin with," he retorted in a clipped voice. "While the original plan was not my own, I play a significant part in it, and you have no right to make decisions like this without consulting me first."

Julia gaped at him in disbelief. "I thought you wouldn't want anything to do with this bloodsucker after... you know. All he put you through. Wouldn't you rather--"

"--Leave. Please," Mallory interrupted. "I'll take it from here."

Julia wrinkled her nose in confusion at his response, but gave him a dignified nod anyway, gesturing for the man she was with to follow her out. Once they were gone and the door was closed, Mallory strode over to stand in front of Alex with a weary sigh, running a hand through his hair. "If I try to get the muzzle off, are you going to bite?"

Alex let out a muffled growl, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Mallory shrugged with a wry grin. "If you want to keep it on, that's fine by me -- I just assumed it was uncomfortable. I can always leave and let Julia have her way with you instead if you're not willing to work with me.”

Alex shuddered uneasily, suddenly hyperaware of the slowly-healing burn mark on his neck. If Mallory was willing to go easy on him, he'd take that over Julia any day.

He let out a quiet whine, the only sign of surrender he could give, though he hated how smug Mallory looked at winning him over.

"Thought so. Here's how this is going to work: you're going to hold perfectly still while I take the muzzle and bit out. If you so much as twitch the wrong way, I will assume you are about to bite me and I will use a silver knife on you. We clear?"

Alex nodded in acceptance, eager to be free of the suffocating muzzle strapped to his face. He forced his shaking to still, turning into a rigid statue the best he could as Mallory anxiously wiped his hands on his pants, before stretching them out toward the vampire.

"No sudden moves, all right?" Mallory muttered, and Alex wasn't sure if the statement was directed at him or if it was meant to reassure the hunter himself.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩��

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @togzy @floral-comet-whump

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @nevermore-ramblings @mj-or-say10

@tippytappytyping

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Victor Crystal Palace

The thing about Crystal Palace is that she is a girl who was made out of candy floss but turned herself into a knife. A girl who should, by no measure, should have made it out of the Capitol, not with her spoiled upbringing and her too-long last name.

But she is a girl who has always known how to survive. How to take her parents’ neglect and sneak out at night and get up to things that she shouldn’t, how to discard her too-long last name during her Tribute Interview, how to know that she didn’t have time to learn how to use the weapons in the Cornucopia so she flirted with boys until they laid down their guards enough for her to shove makeshift poison-tipped brass knuckles into their guts, how to turn her body into a tool so that she and the people she still loved could stay alive.

All that Crystal has, all that she is, is of her own making.

-aletterinthenameofsanity, there's nothing sweeter than my baby (so full of love I could barely eat)

I, I keep a record of the wreckage in my life I gotta recognize the weapon in my mind They talk shit, but I love it every time And I realize

I've tasted blood and it is sweet I've had the rug pulled beneath my feet I've trusted lies and trusted men Broke down and put myself back together again Stared in the mirror and punched it to shatters Collected the pieces and picked out a dagger

-Halsey, Nightmare (Reprise)

@deadboy-edwin @icecreambrownies @anonymousbooknerd-universe @ashildrs

@tragedy-machine @just-existing-as-you-do-blog @orpheusetude @mj-irvine-selby

@pappelsiin @itsbitmxdinhere @rexrevri @sweet-like-h0ney-lavender @saffirez

@the-ipre @sunnylemonss @days-light @agentearthling @helltechnicality

@tiredghostby @sethlost @catboy-cabin @secretlyafiveheadeddragon @vyther15

@anything-thats-rock-and-roll @queen-of-hobgobblers @every-moment-a-different-sound

@nix-nihili @holvivum

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Love me or hate me, both are in my favor (Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader [HS Academic rivals AU])

Hiiiiii! Sorry for the long wait, I wrote most of this chapter while rewatching to all the boys I’ve loved before because reader is sooooo Laura Jean coded. Not proofread, enjoy!

(E/C)- Eye color, (L/N)- Last name.

Mentions of suicide, mentions of poison, mentions of stabbing, (Romeo and Juliet spoilers???), Cursing.

Word count: 1.6k

Series Masterlist Series playlist

Chapter 4: I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you,

—

Monday, your first day back to classes since your little incident, and although you wanted to be excited for it, it was hard. Sure, the ability to leave your small cramped dorm room was nice, being able to feel the crisp November air breeze through you once more rather than the shitty AC system in your dorm was a nice change of pace from the past few days, but your injury made the whole thing annoying.

Having to awkwardly place your crutches next to your desk and praying to God they didn’t fall in the middle of class (they did about a fourth of the time), pretending like you didn’t feel the stares of your other classmates when you go from one class to another, or acting like you don’t see them turn to their friends and whisper about you. It also gave almost every guy within a 20 foot radius a “knight in shining armor syndrome”, so if it looked like you were even so much as struggling to grab a pencil from your bag, you’d have to deal with a bunch of senior boys racing each other in order to be the first to help you. Lucky you have most of your classes with MJ, being your actual knight in shining armor, shooing them away from you like they were a pack of stay dogs, but when she wasn’t around you they stuck to you like flies in honey. You and MJ weren’t the only ones annoyed by theses guys.

Currently, you’re sitting in your Advanced placement literature class. Your teacher droning on about your next and last assignment before your class would move onto the next unit which was the Victorian era of literature, usually you would be excited about starting a new class unit but your usual energy had been thoroughly drained out of you due to all the extra attention you weren’t used to. Sure you were one of the “well-known” and “prettier” girls on campus but you never had the amount of attention that you'd been receiving throughout the day on you before.

“As for your final assignment, I will be having you all pair with someone at random and you will all have to perform a scene from one of the two plays we read in class, also from random.” Your teacher finishes with a smile, not even faltering in the slightest when the collective groans erupted throughout the classroom. Ms.Covey was really playing into the stereotypical English/Drama teacher troop with this assignment. She let out a small chuckle before continuing, “You’re all so dramatic, don’t worry I won’t grade on acting skills, more so on your efforts that you put into the performance. You don’t have to be an amazing actor, but I do want you all to try.” She finishes as she bends gown to grab two small pastel coffee mugs, and places them onto her desk. Calling your classmates by random to go pick a paper from the pink mug (the ones with the scenes), before picking out from the green one (the one with names).

After the third or fourth name that wasn’t yours was called you began to zone out, your eyes looking up and the ceiling as you began to count the little holes on the tiles as you propped your elbow on top of your closed hardcover notebook, your cheek resting on your opened palm, subconsciously chewing on your bottom lip, tasting your strawberry lip gloss when you wipe away the residue from your teeth with your tongue. You let out a quiet sigh as you lost count after passing 40, you were about to start over when your ears perked up after hearing an oh-so familiar name was called up.

“Mr.O’Hara, come up and pick your scene please.” Although the way the words were phrased, the command came out more as a question. Curiously, your (E/C) eyes made there was to look over to the left, watching as the male begrudgingly got up from his seat, the chair making a small scraping noise as he cursed quietly under his breath in spanish. He could feel your eyes on him, despite the rest of the classroom watching him as well, he always knew when you were watching him, maybe it was because he’s grown almost a sixth sense that was dedicated to just you, he’s convinced himself that he could always find your eyes in a crowd, the idea almost drives him mad. Why does God have to curse him with your presence?

His large tan hand went into the pink mug and pulled out a price of paper that was a bit thicker feeling then the rest, most likely being one with a bit of a longer description, before handing it over to Ms.Covey, his bored stoic eyes purposely avoiding yours. Although this would usually be normal for you both, it felt a bit odd, since after your last interaction with one another. Your teacher let out a surprised hum when she opened the small strip of paper.

“This is an interesting one… Your scene is going to be Act 5, Scene 3 from Romeo and Juliet.” She mumbled the first part to herself before saying the latter half louder, so he as well as the rest of the class could hear. You couldn’t help the smile that began to creep on your face, you didn’t even need to open your copy of the book to know exactly which scene that was. That scene was the one where Romeo visits Juliet with the impression she’s dead and is so distraught and filled with grief, that he takes his own life by drinking poison, before she wakes up and follows his lead and takes hers by stabbing herself with a dragger. The scene was heart wrenching, and beautiful and tragic and Miguel is totally gonna butcher it. The thought of Miguel having to act out that scene was absolutely hilarious! You can’t wait till class ends, you’re gonna tease the ever living sh- “Miss (L/N)! You will be his partner.”

Your smile instantly dropped, Shit. No, no, no, nooooo. Your hand instantly shot up, you didn’t even have to glance over to Miguel to know his face held the same look of slight panic when he turned to face your teacher.

“Ms. Covey-“ You and Miguel both began in unison, you not even waiting for her to at least call your name, but she quickly shuts down any type of protest you or he could spit out. Her hand coming out in front of her in a stop motion as her expression shifts to one of mild annoyance.

“Ah- Don’t start. I don’t want to hear it!” Her brows scrunch closer together as she sends you both a pointed glare before continuing, “No switching, don’t even ask. Besides, this will be a good excuse for the both of you to bond, maybe you’ll learn to at least get along enough to not bicker at the time.” You lowered your hand back down onto your desk, an exasperated sigh leaving your lips.

This is gonna be a long assignment.

—

Your chewed on the inside of your check as you put your book down and reach for your phone again, only to see that another 15 minutes have passed. You let out a groan and shut your book with a small slam, startling yourself a bit as you began to put away your supplies back into your book bag, before slinging it over your shoulders and grabbing your crutches to make your way back to your dorm.

“What a fucking asshole… I don’t wanna do this assignment with him either, but the least he could do was text me while I was still in my dorm… he knows it’s hard for me to walk still…” You ranted to yourself quietly as you carefully made your way down the ramp of your favorite school library. You and Miguel had (begrudgingly) agreed to meet up at 5:30pm at the library to go over the assignment, read over the lines and whatnot. That was the plan at least, but after an hour and a half of waiting without so much as an update text you had decided to throw in the towel. You couldn’t wait for the next time you see him so you could rip him a new one. Now you had to walk limp? from the library back to your dorm by yourself, that was all the way across campus. Not only that but the fall weather was not being forgiving as the temperature began to steadily decline, your fleece lined tights underneath your school uniform and your bomber jacket doing very little to keep you warm, the bleak darkness of nightfall already covering Nueva York thanks to daylight savings.

You were only halfway back when you had to stop for a break, hazardly dropping your stuff on the other side of the bench you were resting on. Miguel totally owes you one. You closed your eyes, letting out a small huff as you placed your gloved hands coming over and rub your face, disregarding your tears of frustration and blaming them as your body’s reaction to the skin-numbing coldness.

“Need a lift?” Asked a voice asked from… above you? You pulled your hands down and cranked your neck up to look directly above you, your lips twitching upwards slightly. “Well- a swing.” He added, making you let out a small giggle, already going to gather your stuff.

“Nice to see you again, Spider-Man.”

—

Taglist: @famouscattale @oharasfilipinawife @mxltifxnd0m @loser-alert @homewreckingwreck @dumb-gemini12 @cowboylikeevie @thedevax @codenameredkrystalmatrix

[irondad-defensesquad]

Mr. Dad Guy

For Sicktember (@sicktember), prompt 7: Borrowed Hoodie. Except Peter isn't sick with a flu or anything like that, but he has a bad day. Also posted on AO3! TRIGGER WARNING - mention of bullying. DO NOT SHIP PETER AND TONY. P/ROSHIP DNI.

Peter isn’t having a good day today.

His days are mostly the same, but in some of them, he’s just not able to bear it all with a smile. It’s those days when Peter’s eyes are heavy, his head cannot handle society, and everything is louder and brighter than ever. So today, Flash is more annoying than usual. School is an absolute drag. The teachers decided to be monotone and say so many things that Peter’s brain won’t absorb any of them.

Ned got sick so he’s staying home today; Peter has no idea where MJ is. That’s a great opportunity for Flash to bump into him and get his shirt dirty with food.

No, worse yet.

Peter forgot he’s been wearing Tony’s old MIT sweater all day.

He would’ve killed Flash, but Peter is the one to blame, honestly. He should’ve given it back to Tony, or at the very least left it at home.

Peter tries to clean it in the restroom, but it looks even worse.

He wants to cry. Today sucks, Flash sucks, Peter sucks—

The arachnid sighs in relief when he finally gets out of school, but he’s a little apprehensive when he sees Happy in the car waiting for him. Let’s just hope Tony forgets about the sweater, so maybe Peter can wash it at home himself.

Happy notices he’s quiet, and even asks what’s up. Peter doesn’t want to tell him he’s upset about Tony’s sweater, so he remains silent. The driver doesn’t insist and lets him be.

When Peter finally arrives upstate, Tony has just made waffles with ice cream.

“Hey, kiddo,” the man greets him with a smile. “Want a snack?”

“Oh, sure?”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “What? I didn’t poison it, kid. Or maybe you’re not hungry?”

“No, no, it’s just… I didn’t expect to be met with waffles and ice cream, that’s all.” Then Peter puts two in two together. “Did Happy say anything to you?”

“Well, only that you seemed a little off today.”

Peter sighs. “Yeah…”

“Bad day at school?”

The teen shrugs. “Well, it was like every day, except Ned didn’t go to school, so it sucked. And the classes, my god, why did everyone decide to be so boring today? I don’t even know what I wrote in my notebooks. I have no idea, it was like I wasn’t even there.”

Tony hums, listening.

Peter can’t hide this from him. Guilt is eating him alive.

“And it was so bad that I didn’t even realize I was wearing your old sweater all day, and then—some kid bumped into me and got all their lunch on it. Seriously, I- I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark. I don’t even know why I was wearing it at school, I don’t know why I had it with me in the first place, and I tried to clean it, but it just got worse—”

“Whoa, hey—"

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter is tearing up over this, and he knows it’s stupid, but he knows he messed something that belongs to his mentor, and he shouldn’t have.

“Hey, hey…” Tony abandons the waffles to comfort Peter, squeezing one of the latter’s shoulders. “It’s okay, bud. I’m not angry. It’s a sweater, and accidents happen.”

It wasn’t entirely an accident, but Peter will leave out Flash’s real intentions for now.

The fifteen-year-old opens his backpack to reveal the sweater, which has been horribly stained and horribly cleaned.

“We can fix that,” Tony reassures him. “And even if not, it’s an old sweater, kid. It’s fine.”

Peter sniffs. “O-Okay.”

“Aww, hey.” Tony wraps his arms around him without hesitation. “Today really sucked, huh?”

“Y-Yeah…” Peter replies, voice muffled by Tony’s shirt.

“Yeah, I know how it is.” Tony rubs his back. “I’ve got you, okay? You’re home.”

Home… upstate?

It sounds nice.

The hug doesn’t last long, but it doesn’t feel incomplete. Peter suddenly feels like part of the weight evaporated. Like all day long, he was only needing this.

Tony has taken the sweater, but before doing anything with it, he glances at it and grins to himself.

“What?” Peter asks, confused.

“So you were wearing it to school? That’s cute.”

Peter flushes red. “Mr. Stark…”

“It’s like you wanted to show off your cool mentor’s clothes.”

“It’s not like that—”

“Or you just missed me.”

“Mr. Stark!”

Tony laughs. “I’m just messing with you, kid.”

Peter crosses his arms, pouting.

“Yeah, I dunno. It’s a comfy sweater. And maybe- maybe it’s nice to think you’re looking out for me at school, too. Kinda.”

He mostly mumbled these words.

There’s some silence, the stunned kind.

When Peter looks up, Tony is the one who looks like crying.

But instead, the man squeezes Peter again.

“You’re so adorableeeeeee.”

“Mr. Stark!!”

“You can have all my sweaters. Literally all of them. Steal my whole wardrobe if you want.”

“No! Let me goooo—”

Tony laughs harder when Peter releases himself from the hug. The former tells the latter to eat the waffle before the ice cream melts completely. Tony probably puts the sweater in the washer.

Peter eats the dessert after this long, long day, and he smiles, now able to breathe a little better.

[ironspiderfics]

tick tock

by @iron--spider for @savvysass

~

And Peter stares at him, watching the panic seep into his shoulders.

 “Why did you come to me first?” Ned stammers. “Me, I mean, I can’t do anything—I mean, I can say it sucks, and that doesn’t help—”

 Peter leans back against Ned’s pillows, clearing his throat. He’s going for nonchalance. Maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned it at all. 

 But sometimes there’s something that’s nagging at him and he knows logically it’s nagging at him because it’s important, but he downplays that nag because he thinks he’s being paranoid or he thinks he can handle it. Maybe it’s both of those things at the same time. 

 But he mentioned his problem anyway, because of course he did, and Ned has been standing frozen in front of him since, like he got struck by lightning.

 “It’s fine,” Peter says, his voice going a little high, but not enough to give him away. He clears his throat again. Nonchalance. “Do you have any of the tamales still?”

 Ned’s brows furrow, like he’s primed and ready for an argument. “You are the only—the only person in the known universe who climbs through my bedroom window and tells me he’s been poisoned and then says it’s fine and asks for tamales.”

 “You know I like them so much,” Peter says, shrugging at him. “That’s why we got so many, and I already ate the ones I had stashed—”

 “Peter!” Ned yells, drawing out the word like a wiggling worm. “Poisoned?”

 “It’s fine,” Peter shrugs again, and he swallows hard, and he mostly believes that. His head hurts, but that’s normal after a fight. Rattling his brain around.

 It’s all normal. It’s fine. 

 The room isn’t shimmering at the corners. No way.

 “Peter.”

 He keys back in. “That guy…is a weirdo,” Peter laughs, and Ned takes two steps closer to him, still poised, eyes still wide under a stern, furrowed brow. 

 He analyzes him, like he’s looking for something Peter’s hiding. “All of the dudes you fight are?” he says. Asks. It’s a statement phrased like a question. “Which one was it? You could be referring to any of them?”

 “The guy who thinks he’s a snake,” Peter says. He winces. “No. A scorpion.”

 “Worse,” Ned says. “And what exactly did he say? Did you know you’re bleeding?” He’s getting worked up, and his cheek spasms a little bit. “You’re trying to be too casual I don’t trust you right now you’re doing that thing where you’re under—you’re under—I’m gonna tell Tony I’m gonna tell May and MJ—”

 “Ned!” Peter yells, scrambling off the bed and reaching him before he grabs his phone from the desk. He holds onto his arms, and Ned is still looking at him like he’s grown another head. “It’s fine. I swear. I was just…telling you…the events, I was close to your house and I thought I’d tell you the events of my, uh, night, my patrol—how was your night, did you get to that episode of Survivor where—”

 “What exactly did this guy say to you?” Ned asks, slowly. “Like, in words. His words.”

 Peter swallows hard. “Well, uh, we were fighting, and he—he ‘poisoned’ me, right?” He uses air quotes.

 Ned glares at him.

 “And he said we were gonna play a game—”

 “Bad—”

 “And he said, uh, if I couldn’t find the antidote in three days that I’d, uh. Die.”

 Die. DIE. It lands like an anvil.

 Ned gives him a piercing look.

 “That’s everything he said? Those were the words—that’s it? No clues no map no—three days—three days is nothing—that’s not—that’s not even four days—when does it start does it start at like midnight or the second you—”

 Peter clears his throat again. He needs to refocus. 

 He feels like the walls are moving—no. Not happening. He’s fine.

 He shakes his head. He wishes he hadn’t mentioned it at all, but here he is. “Ned, that—I mean, this is normal.”

 Ned scoffs. “Norm—”

 “This is just something that happens. Spider-Man gig. He’s—this is part of the rapport.”

 “Rappo—Peter what if you start dying? What if you can’t find him? What if you find him and he won’t give you the antidote? What then? What if there is no antidote? There isn’t enough time—”

 “There’s probably not even a poison,” Peter says, shrugging again. Brushing it off. Being normal. Managing the situation.

 Ned pauses for a second. Then his eyes bulge. “Probably?”

 Peter gets this shit all the time. Every day, it’s some guy in a weirdo costume telling him they’re gonna kill him or he’s gonna drown tomorrow at noon or they’re gonna take his powers away or they’re gonna launch him into the sun, and none of those things have ever happened. And this guy, this Scorpion has threatened to poison him dozens of times—it’s his deal, it’s his thing, since he showed up a few months after the world ended, and he’s never good at it. He said he was gonna poison Harlem’s water supply and that didn’t happen, despite days of monitoring. He said he’d poisoned the mayor’s family and that they’d die in five days and they’re currently vacationing in Kokomo. He’s even said he’d poisoned Peter before and that his skin was gonna fall off and that never happened. 

 Tony has always told him to take threats seriously from everyone that threatens him, even if they sound stupid. But when it winds up being a lie or a fluke, over and over—

 The only thing that’s worrying him is that this guy did get him with his stupid stinger this time. 

 He had a better costume, one that didn’t look like it came from the November discount at Spirit Halloween. And it was a knockdown dragout fight, because he was threatening to poison this bank manager to steal his codes, blah blah, bad guy shit, but then he got Peter in the shoulder with his stinger and he seemed surprised that he got him and that’s when he said what he said and he did what he does best: disappear. Peter can usually find these guys, and he actually got a few of them and their gangs locked up. But this asshole falls off the grid really easily, and doesn’t leave much behind. Peter doesn’t even know his real name.

 And Peter’s shoulder is pulsing. But only a little bit.

 So he’s just—he’s not concerned. Maybe slightly. But not really.

 He’s just got a headache. He feels fine.

 He’s fine.

 He manages to convince Ned that he doesn’t need to tell anybody, and they bandage up the things that need bandaging, including the spot where Scorpion got him, which is only a little green and angry, not nearly as bad as Peter was imagining. Ned huffs and puffs at it, but he doesn’t try to restart the argument. And then they share tamales and Peter goes home.

 “You okay?” May asks him, when he kisses her cheek before bed.

 “Yep,” Peter says, smiling, and nodding at her, because he is. 

 He feels fine. He texted MJ that he was fine, even though that seemed to make her suspicious, but she’s always suspicious of him even though they’re together now. She’s paranoid.

 The ceiling is absolutely not slowly lowering. It’s just the light being weird that’s it nothing more than that—

 May gives him a look, similar to the look Ned gave him earlier. “You sure?” she pushes. “Look a little…peaky.”

 He shakes his head. 

 Only a little dizzy. 

 Three days…

 “I’m fine. I just had seven tamales. I’m fine.”

 ~

 “Boss,” Friday says, pulling Tony out of a dream. “You have an incoming call from Ned Leeds.”

 Tony groans, and opens his eyes. 

 It’s Saturday. 

 Ten in the morning.

 He glances to the side. Pepper is already gone, and he’s gotta check the calendar for the where-to, and he clears his throat and rubs his eyes.

 A call from Ned usually means trouble.

 He closes his eyes, and grapples for his earpiece on the bedside table, and Friday indicates for his heart rate with a polite little trill. He ignores it, and tries not to jump to conclusions about Peter or the call, and he taps on the earpiece and answers.

 “—no, it’s okay. No, I don’t need anymore, Lola, I’m full—”

 “Nedjamin?” 

 “Mr. Stark?” Ned nearly yells. “Is that you?”

 “Well, this is my number,” Tony says, rubbing his face. “As you know, or you wouldn’t be calling—”

 “Sorry, I—I’m always shocked that you actually answer. Like even your personal lines must have somebody to like screen calls for you—”

 “You’re on the list,” Tony says, and he can hear Ned’s little gasp—the same little gasp he always gasps when Tony says that. “What’s the problem, where’s the fire? What’s Pete done now?”

 “Listen,” Ned says, and suddenly he’s whispering. “I don’t know when to take him seriously. But last night he showed up here and he was being all nonchalant and shifty about some scorpion bad guy poisoning him and telling him they were playing a game and that he had three days to find the antidote or he’d die.”

 Tony’s eyes snap open.

 “He was just saying it was fine and he was probably not even poisoned and like he was a little beat up but not more than normal, you know, his normal amount of—either way, he’s not taking it seriously and he’s not telling you and three days is not a lot of time—like, it’s not even four days—”

 “Mmkay,” Tony says, sitting up, feeling like someone’s lit a fire under his ass. “Okay. I’m gonna go get him. I’m gonna handle it.” He stands up, knees creaking, and worry is already coursing through his veins.

 “He’s gonna be mad at me for telling you but it’s for his own good,” Ned says. “Three days is not a lot of time, like—to handle something like this—even if it’s fake I mean—”

 “Even if it’s fake, you did the right thing,” Tony says, grabbing a gray shirt and some sweatpants. “Always better to check it out.” He sucks in a big breath, trying to focus. “Friday. Get me a lead on Peter.”

 ~

 And it’s never Tony’s favorite, when Peter isn’t where he’s supposed to be. 

 And Tony can’t exactly say the kid is supposed to be somewhere in particular—it’s the summer time, he’s been dealt a raw hand with all the end of the world bullshit, and he’s a good kid despite Spider-Man —and not that Spider-Man makes him bad, exactly the opposite, but it…sends waves of danger into his life on a daily basis that Tony wishes he could wash away a lot better than he does. 

 So when Tony can’t find Peter at home, he tries not to—go off the deep end. 

 It’s probably fine. Peter’s had a lot of close calls that weren’t close calls at all—the type of dickheads he encounters lie a lot, to try and puff themselves up, but Tony worries that’s made the kid complacent. He himself brushes things off far too often, and he’ll wind up kidnapped or thrown in a ditch or lost on an island because he didn’t take something seriously.

 Three days

 When did that timeclock start

 Ned was right to be concerned—

 “It’s fine,” he breathes, driving around in New York’s torture tactic they call traffic, “it’s fine—it’s fine—”

 He thinks of a ticking clock, thinks of three days and how that’s not a lot of time and how many times Ned repeated that, thinks that this guy could very easily be telling the truth and it could be a slow-acting poison that doesn’t even kill Pete until the last possible second, and it’s not even a week, it’s three days, and it’s less than that now because Peter decided not to call him immediately, decided to terrorize Ned instead, and tick tock, goes the clock, and Tony hasn’t even seen him yet—

 “Friday,” Tony says, his voice strung-out with anxiety, “are you—”

 “Boss, I was about to cut in,” Friday says, “Spider-Man is three blocks away in an apartment that does not belong to him. He broke in and he is in distress.”

 Tony sucks in a breath, his eye twitching. “An apartment—dist—am I going in the right direction—”

 “Yes,” Friday says, sounding too goddamn calm, even for an AI, and she trills again, for his heart rate. “I will let you know where to park.”

 ~

 Tony is incapable of relaxing. It isn’t the time to relax. Nobody’s telling him to but he always feels like people are telling him to, he’s heard it so many times in his life.

 The only saving grace in this situation is that the goddamn owner of the apartment isn’t home, and Peter is too savvy to let the alarm go off to alert anybody, and Tony doesn’t know why the hell he’s here why here why now does he know these people did something happen here and of course he doesn’t know why he hasn’t seen him he hasn’t gotten to talk to him yet—

 And he can picture it now—SPIDER-MAN CHOOSES A LIFE OF CRIME, MORE AT 11—

 “Kid,” Tony breathes, and he tries not to touch anything as he slinks inside the open door like an accomplice to a robbery, “kid—”

 “TONY!” 

 Peter screams his name, booming and loud, louder than he’s ever sounded before. And Tony hears him before he sees him, and he staggers back and shuts the door when he hits it, and he clutches at his chest and Friday trills twice for his heart rate, a little more urgently.

 And Peter is standing there in the middle of this plush, eggshell-white Central Park view.

 And he doesn’t look good.

 He’s pale as a sheet, his eyes bloodshot, and it looks like there’s throw-up on the front of his suit. His hair’s a mess, and his breathing is hard and wheezy.

 “Don’t move,” Peter says. “Just stay right there. Stay on—on that spot right there that spot is uncompromised.”

 Tony stares at him. “Uncomp—Pete, we gotta go, we can’t—we don’t know this apartment, we weren’t invited here.”

 “How do you know?” Peter asks, looking at him incredulously.

 “Well, were you?” Tony asks, mouth agape, feeling like the stupidest person in the world.

 “This place was pulsing,” Peter says, too fast, all manic. “It was ready for liftoff, okay? That’s why I’m here but now there’s a problem. There’s a problem with the floor and it burned me three times. They say fool you once, uh fool you twice but three times, so… the whole apartment is a problem. The whole thing, I could see it from the outside and it might have fallen so…I had to go up. Here. Up here.”

 This isn’t good. This isn’t good. Tony stares at him and he can feel the very very not good hanging all over the room in tendrils. “Kid, you’re not making any sense at all, okay? Can you—can you just…slow down a little bit and—”

 “It’s too windy,” Peter says, shaking his head. He looks at him, sort of—looks through him, and then he focuses on him again. “Okay. Break. Team, uh—Tony. We can’t fix it now. We just need to abort, okay, just—spider, uh—spiderweb on out of here—you need to—listen, we can jump off the roof. That might be the right—the right, uh—”

 “Okay,” Tony says, more concerned with every new word that leaves his mouth. “Okay, Pete, I’m gonna come over there—”

 “No no no don’t move!” Peter yells, his hands outstretched in Tony’s direction. 

 “What?” Tony shouts, his heart slamming in his ears. “Peter.” 

 Peter stares down at Tony’s feet. “It’s gonna get you. It’s going to—it’s gonna start eating you like it’s been eating me.”

 And Tony knew, when Peter started talking, but in that moment he really knows, like a ding ding ding game show buzzer. It sinks in his gut.

 This is the poison’s fault. 

 And he’s stupid he’s so stupid, and suddenly it’s blindingly real and not at all a false alarm, it’s the ticking time clock in his head that he’d been tamping down on the way over here. It’s ticking, sand is running down, and it’s a race now. 

 A race to save him. 

 Too short. Not even a race. A fucking thousand yard hurdle.

 Will he really die if they can’t—can Tony figure this out on his own—who the hell does he have to call who should he get—they’ve never been able to track down this scorpion asshole before and why is this gonna be any different—

 He’s wasting time—

 Focus, for him—

 “Pete—”

 “It’s like acid like a river of acid it’s everywhere,” Peter says. “You’re gonna. Just. We have to like, leapfrog—maybe I can carry you on my back—”

 “Look, it’s gone,” Tony says, gesturing to the ground. “Not there, gone. Just floor.”

 Peter narrows his eyes. “No, it’s still there—Tony Tony Tony—”

 And he’s freaking out because Tony is walking towards him now, through—whatever LSD trip awfulness he’s imagining, and he’s gasping and gripping his hair and he reaches out and tugs him towards him when he’s close enough.

 “Okay, I don’t know how you did that,” Peter says, and his eyes are wild and a little glazed. “Did it get you? It’s green. It got me, it’s some sort of—acid, acid—you’re not even in the suit, you’re—”

 “Pete,” Tony says again, getting more desperate—and he holds Peter by the shoulders—

 “My legs are burning, this stuff, this is stuff—it’s everywhere—are you okay?” Peter asks, breathing hard. “It—you walked right through it—we’re in trouble, we’re—”

 “You’re hallucinating,” Tony says, trying to hold his gaze. “You got poisoned, and you tried to brush it off, and it’s here to kick your ass.” Too harsh, but it’s out already. 

 He doesn’t mention anything about three days. He doesn’t mention anything about death.

 Peter’s eyes cut to the side. “No, it’s, uh—it’s real. The apartment was—and now there’s—green acid, like an entire—like it’s an ocean of green acid in here and probably outside too and it’s consuming—and it’s in here it’s like—when water comes in during a hurricane—not that I’ve ever been in—but May had that one unlucky vacation in Florida—”

 “Listen,” Tony says, because he can hear the tick tock in his head. He has to get him to focus. “Listen, do you trust me? Pete, can you—”

 Peter stares at him. “I think the green acid ate Ned,” he whispers, tearing up.

 Tony heaves a sigh. Tick tock. “Buddy, close your eyes, and hold my hand, okay? Hold my hand, hold onto my shoulder with your other hand, and close your eyes. I have a way out.”

 Peter’s eyes only go wider. “You have a way out but I can’t see it?” he whispers.

 “That’s right,” Tony says, swallowing hard. “Just…trust me, okay, just—let’s go, we gotta get out of here.”

 Peter stares at him for what feels like an age, and tick tock tick tock, and then he grabs Tony’s hand and latches onto his shoulder and closes his eyes. 

 “Okay,” Tony says, squeezing his hand a couple times as he maneuvers towards the front door. “Okay, we are—skimming over the, uh, the surface—we are walking on water—”

 “Acid—”

 “Acid, but it’s fine—”

 ~

 He has Peter keep his eyes closed until they’re out of the building, and his heart is hammering in his ears. 

 Friday trills. Tony ignores. 

 Peter isn’t wearing his mask and he’s got the rest of the suit on and there are people around and goddamnit. Tony holds onto him and ushers him into the car and hopes he isn’t drawing too much attention.

 Peter sits like he’s frozen solid, and Tony runs red lights.

 Tick. Tock. 

 Peter grits his teeth. He’s antsy. “Are you not concerned about the roof being gone?” he asks, his voice wavering. “Because those things are…they’re all over the car, the things with the antenna and the beady eyes and the little stingers—”

 “Peter,” Tony says, swerving around a slow driver in front of him, “I don’t know whether to play into this and pretend but I guess—I’m—kid, you have been poisoned by that dickhead, that scorpion guy. He poisoned you, and he—he put—” a time limit on it and you’re gonna die if I don’t fucking find his ass or synthesize a cure—

 And you didn’t tell me you should have told me but I’m not gonna give you shit for it right now while you’re actively dying—

 “Who?” Peter nearly yells, and he reaches up and bangs on the roof. “Tony, Tony, it’s phasing in and out now—does that mean—are we gonna quantum leap—like that show—”

 “Pete, it’s not,” Tony says, reaching over and grabbing his arm and trying to keep his eye on the road. “None of these things are happening that you think—Peter—”

 “I think there’s one on your—far shoulder,” Peter says, holding onto Tony’s arm. “A big one, he looks—he’s got plans, Tony—”

 Tony has to pull to a stop at the next red light, and he sighs and holds onto Peter’s arm. “Kid, can you hear me? Can the logical part of your brain break through the fog and hear what I’m saying?” His voice wavers with the worry that’s trying to rise to the surface. 

 Peter just holds onto his arm and stares at him. His eyes are bulging out of his head and he’s clinging onto Tony’s arm like it’s his last lifetime. There’s sweat gathering on his forehead and in his hair and he looks like he’s getting paler.

 Somebody honks behind them and Tony sighs, putting on the gas, still holding onto Peter’s arm. 

 “Tony,” Peter breathes. “I think one of them just climbed inside your ear.”

 ~

 Tony puts on an actual timeclock when they get back to the new facility, and he calls Ned to get the right timing on it. Currently, he’s got two days, five hours, and fifty-three minutes.

 “What is it?” May asks, over Tony’s shoulder. “Do you know what it is yet?”

 Tony shakes his head. He’s still going over Peter’s bloodwork, and Helen is doing the same in her lab. He can see the tests she’s running on the screen, and they’re both cross-referencing with every known poison and every run-in any of them have had with something like this. It isn’t often that Tony gets poisoned, with his suit of choice. He wishes Peter would wear the goddamn iron spider more often. 

 He wishes he could keep this shit from ever happening in the first place, to any of his team and his friends but to Peter especially, but what is he gonna do? He can’t swing around in a steel box, or in a bubble, like that movie—

 Tony rests his elbows on the table and rubs his eyes. He feels that pressure all over him, like he always does when Peter is in danger, but this one is different. He doesn’t think he’s been—on a time clock, with Peter’s death at the end of it.

 Peter’s death, last breath, eyes going glassy—

 No, no—

 It sends chills down the back of Tony’s neck, it makes him feel like he’s gonna throw up—

 Tick tock—

 It was bad enough the first time and that wasn’t even a proper death—this would be, this could be bloody and gasping and—

 “How’s he doing?” Tony asks, spinning his chair around and looking at May. He tries to keep the horrors out of his eyes.

 “Um, not great,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest. “It seems to be just—getting worse. He still thinks there’s water rising in the room and that he’s trapped and he still thinks the ‘acid’ earlier burned up his legs, but you know that—”

 “Nothing there,” Tony says, clawing at his own throat a little bit, anxiety choking him. 

 He cracks his jaw and blows out a breath and glances up into Peter’s room. The kid is still pacing, and he’s in there with MJ and Ned, talking close to their faces, all wild-eyed and gesturing, pulling his IV pole around. He already sweat through his shirt and he’s hardly retaining any fluids. None of the trial antidotes they’ve got lying around have worked. None of the preventative measures have prevented shit. Peter’s been rambling about someone having cloned the Avengers years ago, and how the floor keeps rumbling because there’s going to be an earthquake in the building. He keeps lifting MJ up and putting her on the bed because he thinks there’s a monitor lizard trying to eat her. 

 And the original wound on his shoulder is full of pus and bruised, black in some spots. They’re trying to treat that too, even though Peter barely recognizes Helen and her team when they come into his room. He always squares up, like he needs to fight them.

 “This isn’t a fair game,” May says, with venom, watching Peter. She wipes her eyes and looks at Tony again, like it’s too hard to keep focusing on the problem. “But I guess we can’t expect fairness from people who want to…hurt others.”

 “I’m gonna fix it,” Tony croaks, because he’s getting teary-eyed now, too, and he turns around and faces the computer and sets up the new ingredient trials. He’s still got a bunch he needs to test, it’s fine, they’re out there looking for this asshole in teams, it’s fine, he wishes he was out there looking too and that’s not fine, and if Peter was right about the clones Tony would leave his clone here and he’d be out there searching and they’d swap—

 “I’m gonna fix it,” he says again, eyes cutting over to the time clock.

 It’s not enough time it’s not enough time it’s not it’s—

 ~

 Peter is—

 The world floats and—

 Of course it floats, and no, it’s not floating, it’s gravity, stupid, and—

 He’s walking down the hallway one minute MINUTE HEY LISTEN YOU’RE and he’s dragging something along with him one minute and HE SAID THREE DAYS STOP LETTING IT TAKE and then the next his arm is bloody and he leans against the wall and he falls into the next room because there are no more walls and—

 He braces his hand on the tile and the tile crunches into wet sand and his hand presses into it an imprint hand and footprint Hollywood Humphrey Bogart and Ben saying he had big hands for a tiny guy huh

 And then there’s the monitor lizard again. Hissing and rampaging towards him.

 “Stop,” Peter says, pointing at him. “She’s not here she’s—”

 Then he’s in bed again. And there’s Tony. And there’s a big fire flames in the corner licking at the wallpaper and it's hot on Peter’s face and trying to singe Tony’s hair. It’s so hot it’s blue. It’s so hot it’s burning Peter’s eyes out of his head.

 “This is the third time,” Tony says, and his voice is echoes, inside one of those water tubes, water spouts? Itsy bitsy spider? “No more getting up and roaming the halls, Pete, please, okay? Jesus, and stop taking out your—”

 The fire gets really big before Peter can even say anything about it and it explodes in a big fireball and tries to consume the entire room, and Peter grabs Tony and tries to cover his head and hide his own face at the same time and—

 “Buddy, buddy, relax, relax—”

 But Peter can barely hear him above the explosions and it’s hot it’s burning it’s all over—

 He groans, screwing his eyes shut, and how’s he supposed to fight fire? “It’s burning it’s—we have to get out we have to—”

 “Nothing’s burning, it’s in your head, it’s in your head,” Tony says, and he’s ruffling Peter’s hair, a gentle feeling amongst all this big and bad and fire, and he’s squeezing Peter’s shoulder and then water—water is trickling out of the walls. Peter can see it over Tony’s shoulder. 

 “It’s in your head, okay?” Tony says, softly, and when he pulls back he phases a bit. In and out. On top of himself like a copy. Like a bad copy like when Peter used the copier at May’s work for his NYC transit project and it spit it out all inky and Peter covers his eyes with his hand. 

 “We can’t stop it,” he breathes, breathes, is he breathing still—

 “Lemme try this one,” Tony says, and he’s still gentle, voice calm waves. “This should help, okay? We’re trying the natural steroid with the anti-toxin—it should—it should work—if the tests—if I know anything at all—”

 And the room changes again.

 Tony isn’t there and the room is smaller, the walls are trying to. Trash compactor. Rectangular and square and there are windows and they move and they morph and he can see the green acid is still outside and it’s rising out there, and that means people are dying, that means—it burned Peter and he’s—he’s who he is, with them they’d be burning—burning alive—

 “It should have worked,” Tony’s voice, but he’s not in here. Is he in the walls? Are they squashing him? “It should have, goddamnit—”

 “It’s close, everything improved there for about twenty—”

 “He was practically catatonic and now he’s worse again—has Sam updated you yet, Helen, because I think he’s afraid to tell me he hasn’t found anything—I gotta fucking get out there—Happy’s out there driving around and Pepper is too and I’m fucking useless—”

 “TICK TOCK,” a voice says.

 A bad voice. Sounds like a stereotypical New Jersey background actor but this one Peter knows, and then he spins around on the spot and all the windows go and then the room shrinks and it shrinks fast fast fast fast too fast a not-fun funhouse and he can’t even try to stop it and he throws his arms out but the walls crush him into something small—

 “FUN GAME, HUH, SPIDER? CLOCK IS TICKING DOWN. THEN I WIN.”

 Peter is running—

 —but there’s nothing, there’s nothing it’s blackness and echoes and nothing anywhere, except when he steps on something it zaps him, like a taser, and it makes him tremble and his face sags and the aftershocks run through him and he feels off course, and he tries to run in the opposite direction but what’s the opposite direction in a void and he’s zapped again, and he tries to go—a couple steps back and—it’s so dark he can’t see and when he tries to yell nothing comes out, nothing, and he grabs at his own throat and tries to pull his voice out and—

 A full body zap and he collapses, seizing—

 In the room again.

 In the bed.

 Handcuffed, to the bed. Soft straps, around his wrists and his ankles, connecting to the bars of the bed.

 “How the hell did he even get in that room?”

 “God, I don’t know—how does he get anywhere—”

 Tony and May are on either side of him, and the acid is in the room again. They’re sitting on the bed so they’re out of the way of it but it’s rising, and Peter swallows hard, peering down at it.

 “I can get out of these,” Peter says, and he tries to concentrate and break them, and it’s usually so easy, it’s usually very easy, and he breathes hard, watching the acid break and splash against the wall. It eats away at it. “Tony, May, why would you—”

 “You keep getting up and hurting yourself,” May says, and she sniffles, and she—her face is in darkness. He can’t see her face. “You don’t have much time and you keep—”

 “May—”

 Tony’s voice, but he can’t see his face either, they’re both, they’re—their faces, they don’t have faces they don’t have faces no eyes nose mouth nothing nothing—

 He closes his eyes and keeps rattling the handcuffs. Why aren’t they breaking? Why aren’t they?

 “You’re weak right now,” Tony says, and Peter squeezes his eyes shut because he can’t—he can’t look he can’t—

 ~

 “We didn’t wanna do it, Peter,” Tony says, feeling shame, watching him thrash around. 

 And if this was normal, he’d try to convince him to stay still, to stop getting up and breaking into storage rooms and labs and they’d take them off, but he’s—he’s barely in there. Barely lodged in his own head. The hallucinations are too strong and they barely have a day left. They haven’t found Scorpion and they haven’t figured it out themselves—

 And is Peter going to die like this? Wasting away, handcuffed to the medbay bed by two of the people who love him most?

 He’ll uncuff him if he’s dying and what kind of thing is that to fucking say what kind of thing is that to even think to even fathom—

 A wave of horror goes through Tony’s entire body and he reaches for the right cuff—

 “Tony, he’ll be out in five seconds flat,” May says.

 “Not if we’re in here—”

 “We were in here before and he got past us—”

 “Please, Tony,” Peter says, and he’s still trying to break them, and he just might, if he keeps trying. Not all of his strength is gone. Not yet. 

 Peter’s eyes are teary and pleading, and he looks so pale, so tired. “Please, the acid is—it’s rising and if I’m cuffed here I’ll—you guys can get out but if you leave me cuffed here it’ll—it’ll burn it’ll kill me—”

 Tony feels insane. He can’t take this. He leans forward, holding Peter’s shoulder with one hand and cupping his face with the other. “Listen,” he says, and Peter is looking at him, but that hasn’t meant much, since this started. “Listen. There’s no acid. You’ve been poisoned, and you’re dying, Pete, you’re dying. We’re trying to help but we—we…” His voice gets caught again and he shakes his head, but Peter is still looking at him. 

 He doesn’t wanna say that out loud he doesn’t want to acknowledge it because it can’t be true it can’t—

 “It was Scorpion,” May says, and she’s rubbing Peter’s left arm up and down. “If you know, anywhere inside you, baby, if you know where he might be—anything, any possibility—”

 “May, you gotta let me go,” Peter says, and he shakes them both off, thrashing harder. “The acid, the acid, I’m gonna drown—I gotta—”

 Tony gets up, turning around and covering his face with his hand. He can’t stand it. He can’t fucking stand it. He’s shaking and he feels like he’s gonna pass out.

 “Peter, baby, please,” May whispers.

 “May, please let me go,” Peter pleads. “Please, please, the acid—”

 “I’m gonna go fly around,” Tony says, dizzy and sick, the time ticking away in his head. “I’m gonna go—search for myself.”

 “Tony,” May calls, but he doesn’t look back.

 ~

 The acid is licking at the edges of the bed now, splashing up onto Peter’s legs and burning him. Peter sobs and grits his teeth and keeps trying, keeps trying, thrashing and wearing rug burns onto his wrists and ankles and maybe this wasn’t Tony, maybe this was the clone, and the acid is rising up and rising up and Peter tries to hold his arms up as much as he can and the windows are back and swapping around on the walls like bad Tetris and he’s about to yell out for May when—

 Scorpion. Big Scorpion. In the corner of the room.

 Laughing at him.

 And the acid seems to cling to him when he moves. Like a neon sign.

 ~

 And after six hours of looking all over God’s green earth, after watching Peter’s time dwindle to just under a day, May calls to tell Tony that Peter is gone.

 “Gone?” Tony screams, nearly crashing into One Vanderbilt.

 “Not dead,” she says, and the crying doesn’t help. “But gone, he—broke out of the cuffs when I went to get him something to eat. He was really bad off, it was getting—so bad, and I left and I wasn’t gone for long and he just—now we can’t—everyone is looking, everything is activated—”

 “Friday,” Tony stammers, and she confirms by throwing it all up on the screen.

 May gasps and tries to keep talking. “He—doesn’t have a suit, we didn’t—see him take one, and there’s not—no tracking, but we’re—”

 “I’ll find him,” Tony breathes, changing his trajectory.

 ~

 And it feels like another lie.

 He couldn’t come up with an antidote. He couldn’t find Scorpion. He couldn’t even make Peter comfortable, couldn’t soothe him, couldn’t counteract anything, and worse yet the last thing he did before he left was handcuff Peter to the bed, a severe breach of trust no matter what the hell’s going on, and he shouldn’t have done it, he shouldn’t have, he should have just kept chasing him down, bringing him back, but he was going into other rooms and electrocuting himself on old machines, for God’s sake—

 And Tony searches and searches and he doesn’t even register the time until the clock runs out.

 The clock runs out.

 It runs out, all zeroes, and Tony is in the air in Queens and everyone else is scattered and the time runs out. The three days, they ran together like watercolor, like broken glass in the trash bin, and it’s over and it’s done and he’s—he’s—

 He’s not in front of them, so they don’t know. 

 Tony gets a few calls, but he ignores them, setting his jaw and trying not to cry.

 He can’t be dead he can’t be he can’t be—

 They’d send messages if they’d found Peter, if they’d—

 Tony keeps searching. He can’t breathe but he keeps searching.

 “Friday, take that shit off the screen,” Tony rasps, trying to see through his tears.

 The zeroes disappear.

 ~

 And Peter doesn’t come home.

 Tony doesn’t like the phrase ‘presumed dead’, and yet, somehow, the news starts splashing it across their headlines about seven hours after the time clock runs out. 

 SPIDER-MAN PRESUMED DEAD, and it’s everywhere, on all the networks, to the point where reporters start showing up at Stark facilities, including their new home base. And Tony doesn’t understand why, or what the fuck happened, and he hasn’t eaten and he hasn’t gone back and he hasn’t stopped looking, so what the hell do they know that he doesn’t?

 “Nothing,” Rhodey says, on the phone. “They don’t know anything, Pepper and I interrogated Don at CNN and he just got a tip, a bunch of them did, but they don’t know anything for real.”

 “They don’t have any actual information?”

 “Just a story,” Rhodey says. “No sightings, no anything, I don’t know why they’re taking it seriously. Pepper is with May, she’s—not dealing with any of this well, and I know you’re not either, so you need to—you should come home, just for a little bit, okay? Just to eat, just to see us, and then—”

 “No, I gotta keep looking,” Tony says, continuing his scans and sweeps of the street. He’s sure Iron Man’s presence in the sky isn’t doing them any favors in terms of the story. 

 And what is he looking for? A dead body? A miracle?

 “Tony.”

 “Rhodey, I gotta keep—I gotta keep looking.”

 ~

 And he does, and he doesn’t find anything. He essentially starts going door to door and he doesn’t fucking find anything. He shakes Electro out of his cave and he doesn’t know shit, he finds that rat gang of assholes and they don’t know anything either. 

 And Tony comes home after a day and a half and nearly passes out. From not eating, from exhaustion, from grief, from too many zeroes and too much silence. That headline. Failure.

 The ghost of Peter’s face—

 You need to come to terms—

 No. No.

 He sits in a dark room with half a bagel and he can’t face May. He can’t face MJ or Ned or his own wife or anybody that loves Spider-Man.

 He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t do anything, at all. He was completely and utterly fucking useless. No wonder Peter didn’t come to him.

 Where is his body gonna be? Who’s gonna find it? What will he be wearing in his casket? The kid doesn’t like suits. 

 Tony covers his face with his hands. His breath comes out in tremors.

 ~

 And Tony feels like he’s hallucinating now. Everything moves in stop-motion. 

 “Come sleep,” Pepper says, kissing his forehead. “Just for a little while.”

 He says something back to her. He doesn’t know what it is, and she gives him that look, like she pities him, like she wishes she could take it all away. But she kisses him again and leaves, and he’s alone, terrified he might see May around the corner.

 He drifts, lost in his own pain and failure, and the memories and Peter’s chit-chat and everything he’ll never get to say again, and Tony’s just about to leave to suit up again when he gets the alert.

 “Boss, Peter Parker is at door B5 on the second level.” 

 Everything comes to a screeching halt. It catches up with itself. 

 Tony leaps to his feet, and Friday trills for his heart rate. It seems like the world is thrown off its axis for a second—or it’s reset back on it—

 Tony reaches for something that isn’t there, trying to steady, trying to—

 Peter. Peter. Peter at the door?

 Not dead. Not dead. What the fuck is going on?

 “Peter?” he breathes, already moving, not of his own accord. “Friday, it’s—are you—are you sure—”

 “Peter Parker, B5.”

 And Tony races there. Doesn’t think. Races through the empty hallways and nearly busts his ass on the stairwell. And when he reaches the door he can hear someone trying to scan in, and failing, more than one time, and he feels like an alarm would have already gone off if Friday didn’t know who it was.

 “Friday, let him in—”

 And the door opens just as Tony grabs the handle, and Peter stumbles inside.

 Tony catches him when his legs give out, and Peter laughs a little bit, holding onto Tony’s arms. 

 He laughs. A laugh.

 “Hey, hey,” Tony stutters, and he kicks the door closed and gets a hold of Peter around the waist. “Jesus, Jesus Christ—sitting or standing? I can do either one. Expert at either one.”

 Alive alive he’s here—

 “Uh, standing,” Peter says, gripping Tony’s arm and his shoulder. “Geeze, sorry. Still…wobbly.” He finally looks up at him—his eyes are so much brighter, and he’s gotten some of his color back.

 Alive. Alive, not dead. Alive, solid, real.

 How? How?

 “What the hell happened?” Tony breathes. He glances around, panic rising in his throat, and he feels dizzy. “No, you know what, I choose sitting, I forgot there was a couch here—c’mere, c’mere bud, easy, easy—”

 Peter snorts. “Okay yeah—good idea, uh—”

 “Tell me what happened,” Tony says, moving them over there, sitting down. He keeps an arm around him, and brushes his hair back from his forehead so he can see his face better. 

 Disbelief. He can barely breathe he can barely think—

 Peter shakes his head, closes his eyes, sags into Tony’s side. “Um—it’s still like, a mess, in my head, but I think like—I don’t know, I saw Scorpion, in the hallucination, and I—the acid, that I thought was there, it like—it pointed to him. And when I broke out of the handcuffs—”

 “I’m so sorry,” Tony says, his face burning. “I’m so sorry.”

 “No—I—listen, I get it, it’s okay—but the acid, it kept—even when he disappeared, the acid was neon and made like a trail and I—found him. I don’t know. I don’t know why it worked. Maybe something like a signature in the poison he made and my brain and him—I don’t know.”

 He really looks at Tony, and Tony can see he’s bloody at the corner of his mouth, and he’s got a black eye. 

 Tony’s heart lurches. “Are you okay?” he asks, tipping Peter’s chin towards him, and Peter nods. “You got the—”

 “I got it,” Peter breathes, nodding slowly. “Antidote. He actually seemed impressed—”

 “Where is he now?” Tony says, blinking, feeling displaced. 

 “I left without a suit, so—I—he was in this warehouse. They’re always in a warehouse. I just piled as much shit on top of him as I could without killing him. He was knocked out, it was—hard but it’s—he should still be there.”

 Tony nods. He’s gotta get somebody on that. 

 He’s shaking with the emotion of it all, and he stares at him, tries to believe it, tries to live in it. He’s here. He’s here. 

 Tony deflates a little bit, and he leans forward and presses his forehead to Peter’s, closing his eyes. “Jesus, Pete, I thought you were dead.”

 “Me too,” Peter says, laughing a little bit. He pats Tony’s knee. “Can’t get rid of me that easy though, so—don’t, uh—sorry, my brain is still mushy peas.”

 “It’s okay, it’s—we gotta tell May, she’s been half insane—”

 And like clockwork, Tony hears her coming down the stairs. 

 “Tony,” she’s yelling, and Tony peels away from Peter to look. “Tony, I heard—Friday sent a notification—”

 She sees Peter, stuttering in her tracks briefly, her hands coming up to cover her mouth. But then she’s running again, at full speed, and Tony helps Peter stand up.

 “Hey May,” Peter breathes, and she rushes at him, wrapping him up in her arms. 

 “Oh, my baby,” she says, clutching at him. “My baby, Peter, you’re alive. You’re alive, thank God, thank God.”

 “Yeah,” Peter says, rubbing her back, looking a little unsteady on his feet. “The news, uh—I told you they get it wrong a lot.”

 “Come on,” Tony says, patting Peter’s shoulders. “Let’s—let’s go get you checked out.”

 ~

 Happy goes to pick up MJ and Ned. Pepper deals with the news and the police. Rhodey heads out with Sam to get Scorpion and put him away for good.

 And Tony and May watch while Helen checks Peter out. His levels are all getting back to normal, for real this time. His body is recovering, and the hallucinations are gone. Peter still has the “antidote bottle” that asshole gave him, and Helen takes it to test, to make sure they’ll have everything covered for next time. 

 Next time. There better not be a next time. Tony’s heart can’t take it.

 “He did it all himself,” Tony says, when he and May are heading back into the room where Peter is. “I didn’t help at all—actually, I hindered. I actively hindered.”

 “You kept him safe, and he felt safe, even if he didn’t really know it,” May says. “He feels comfort in us, even if we can’t—fix it, every time.”

 Tony blows out a breath.

 “And I know you want to be able to fix it,” she says, as they reach the door. “But you wanted him to be better than you, didn’t you? You said that to him once?”

 He freezes. It hits him like a pile of bricks, but all she does is smile. She opens the door and they walk inside and Peter is already getting out of bed.

 “No more acid?” May asks, glancing back at Tony.

 “No more acid,” Peter says. He crosses his arms over his chest, and shakes his head. “I barely remember any of it. Just sort of like—flashes of a very bad movie.”

 “Yeah,” Tony croaks, emerging from his shock. “You broke into Beyoncé’s apartment.”

 Both Peter and May whip their heads up to look at him.

 “Beyoncé?” they both nearly yell, in unison, and Tony snorts.

 “No,” he says. “I don’t know.” He feels hazy still, and he swallows hard, trying to focus. “C’mere, I need a—real hug, real quick.”

 “You mean not quick at all?” Peter asks, smiling at him with that bright, familiar smile that was lost the past couple days.

 Could have been counted down to being lost forever.

 Tony hugs him, squeezes his eyes shut, and doesn’t think about that. He rubs Peter’s shoulder and sways them both a bit, and doesn’t think about that. There’s no more ticking in his head, and Peter’s…Peter’s back. 

 “Maybe it was Beyoncé’s apartment,” Tony says, before the emotions overwhelm him, cradling Peter’s head. “It’s not out of the question. We’re gonna have to find out.”

 “Yeah, we’re gonna have to—resolve that before the Beyhive finds me,” Peter says, still hugging him. “They’ll figure out my identity immediately.”

 Tony pulls back, shaking his head at him. “I don’t know what a Beyhive is.”

 “Don’t cross them, that’s what I’m saying,” Peter says. “And the other thing I’m saying is, I’m extremely hungry, and I might…I might die, if we don’t resolve that sooner rather than later.” He raises his eyebrows. “Tick tock.”

 He’s trying to be cute and funny, to make them feel better, like things are getting back to normal after another round of hell courtesy of Spider-Man’s enemies. But Tony and May look at each other with a different kind of understanding of that phrase now.

 “Okay,” Tony says, wrapping his arm around Peter’s shoulders, while May gently takes his elbow. “That, I can help with.”