#iron--spider

[aquaticflames]

so happy to finally have started a physical collection of @iron--spider's incredible work!! (more to come hopefully 🤞)

thank you so much for giving me your blessing on this hun, it's wonderful having these beside my other favourite titles, and seeing them embossed in my collection is such a delight. 💖💖

[youngbugandtonystank]

UGH, that poster where Peter is Tony's shadow made me so happy back then... I was practically convinced that Endgame was going to be an Iron Dad event, lol. And then I saw the movie and I so disappointed. They didn't show us Tony gireving AT ALL! Since Tony only lost Peter, I expected more than him just looking at a photo of him and Peter for 2 secs. I'm still mad about this! Peter's death should have had a bigger effect on Tony, plus Peter was a kid on top of eveything else. So disappointed!!!!

I was disappointed too. Can we rewrite Endgame? But this time I want an irondad writer to do it, we have so many talented people in our fandom, they’re the only ones that can do us justice. You know what? Lazarus, come forth by iron--spider is the only real canon ending here. 

[youngbugandtonystank]

✋ 🏆 💏

Hi!

What reader or writer do you think most deserves a high five?

@iron--spider 100x

What do you wish more authors in your fandom would write about? 

Maybe about Peter inheriting the company? The ones with Tony jealous because Peter is planning on working for Oscorp or any other company, is cute! 

Who is your OTP?

One of my friends here on Tumblr made me obsessed with this pairing:

[thwip--thwip]

MTBI

“Pete,” Tony whispers, and his breath has a hint of cayenne in it, what did he eat for breakfast? Peter’s never felt this overstimulated, what the hell happened? “Stay awake. You need to focus.”

“I can’t,” Peter’s embarrassed that it comes out a whimper, but frankly he’s surprised it came out at all. “I can’t, Tony please - “

*

Written for @iron--spider.

Read on AO3 | Or below the cut!

Peter wakes up to screaming.

When he puts it like that, it sounds alarming. It’s not. Well, mostly. Sometimes the screaming is Mrs. Reyes’ soap operas, three doors down the hall. Sometimes it’s the elementary school children down the block, chasing each other in circles on the sidewalk while they wait impatiently for the bus. Sometimes it’s a car horn, or a bird, hitting a frequency that makes Peter wake up in a sheen of sweat, breathless, fists curled. It’s not that bad.

Well, okay, this is bad. He’s the one screaming.

Peter jerks awake to white hot pain. Alright, maybe that’s an exaggeration. It’s red hot. Blue hot at best.

(“I’ve had worse,” Peter says later, defensive. Tony’s expression does something complicated and awful in response. “That’s not exactly a comfort.”)

His brain feels like it’s on fire, like somebody opened a hatch and poured bleach straight into his skull. And the smell! It burns his nose, makes him gag, something chemical that smells like piss -

“Kid!”

Peter clamps his hands over his ears, but Tony’s voice echoes painfully anyway. It rings and rings and rings, a neverending corridor in his brain - except it does end, at his eardrums, and it fucking hurts.

“Shh! Shh!” Peter says frantically, curling into a ball. Now that his hearing is rushing in, filling the void his unconsciousness left, he can hear everything in agonizing detail. Someone - presumably Tony - is struggling against something fibrous, something that chafes and scratches and tugs at his skin - and the harsh breaths dragging up Peter’s esophagus sound like sandpaper rubbing against itself.

There’s something beeping -

Drip drip drip

A dog barking -

Watch it, asshole, that’s my lane!

A gas stove clicks, clicks, catches -

I think I’m gonna pass out.

“You’re not gonna pass out.” Tony’s voice is a whisper, but it still makes Peter cringe on cold, hard, dirty - ew I can taste it - cement. “Peter, focus on me. Focus, kid, you can do it.”

He can’t, though. He can’t focus. It’s so much, all at once, and Peter keeps his hands clapped over his ears so hard it hurts. His mouth tastes like rainwater, like the muffins from the bakery he knows is around the corner because he can hear, feel, smell, taste -

“Pete,” Tony whispers, and his breath has a hint of cayenne in it, what did he eat for breakfast? Peter’s never felt this overstimulated, what the hell happened? “Stay awake. You need to focus.”

“I can’t,” Peter’s embarrassed that it comes out a whimper, but frankly he’s surprised it came out at all. “I can’t, Tony please - “

“You can.” Tony insists, his tone softening even more. Peter squeezes his eyes tight and tries to will the nausea away. “You’re Spiderman. You can do anything.”

The faith makes determination sit heavy in Peter’s stomach, and he takes a deep breath (ignoring the onions he can taste from the Philly Cheese truck, parked four blocks away), trying to find something to focus on. There’s too much, he can’t do it - but he’s Spiderman, he has to try.

Tony’s heartbeat is too fast, thumpthumpthump...thump, thumpthumpthump...thump, with an irregular arrhythmia Peter can only assume is leftover from the arc reactor. It’s something, though, loud and strong, and he takes every scrap of his focus, betting it on black.

Thumpthumpthump...thump

Thumpthumpthump...thump

Tony doesn’t say anything, as the minutes pass, but even with his eyes closed, Peter can feel the tension radiating from him. He listens to Tony’s heartbeat, which never falters, letting all the other sounds and sensations fade away. He’s not sure how long he lies there, be it minutes or hours, but eventually the overwhelming cacophony abates. His nausea subsides, and Peter’s left with just the dull ache in his skull. He’s not great, but he doesn’t feel like he’s about to faint anymore, so that’s something.

“I’m okay,” Peter whispers, slowly opening his eyes. Tony’s concerned face blurs into focus - the man is bleeding from his temple as well as his wrists, from where he’d pulled too hard on ropes binding him. “What...what happened?”

“Bastards got us outside of the falafel joint.” Somehow, Tony manages to infuse a helluva lot of anger into his whispering, and it makes Peter smile, despite everything. “They knocked you out, hard. You probably have a concussion, kid.”

Well that explains the pain in his head, and probably the sensitivity. If a concussion was bad for somebody normal, why wouldn’t it be extra horrible for someone like him?

“It’s a hard knock life,” Peter says, and Tony’s eyes narrow dangerously. Peter can’t help but grin, raising an eyebrow, even though he still hasn’t moved from the floor. “What, too soon?”

“Less than five minutes after you recover from having a seizure on the floor is the definition of too soon.” Tony hisses, and Peter knows he’s in for a classic round of mother-henning as soon as they get the hell out of there.

“Alright, alright, keep your pants on.” Peter picks himself up off the ground, swaying a little as he does so. He takes a minute to stabilize, and Tony watches him dubiously, like he’s expecting Peter to keel over at any second. Which, okay, fair. But still.

“Are you sure you’re good?” Tony’s head cranes to follow him as Peter walks around to undo the ropes; they’re knotted tightly, and flecked with Tony’s blood, where he’s rubbed his skin raw. Peter crouches and picks at them carefully, not wanting to cause him any more pain.

“Why wasn’t I tied up?” What, was he not good enough for rope? Did they run out? Are they just terrible kidnappers? Tony’s fingers flex impatiently, ever the fidgeter. Peter manages to undo the first knot and starts to work on the second.

“You were out cold, and you look like you’re twelve. I don’t think they thought of you as a threat. Are you sure you’re good, kid?”

“I’m threatening! I’m totally threatening. Grr.” Probably not the best way to prove it, if Tony’s pointed silence in response is anything to go by. Peter gets him out of the binds, dropping them to the floor, and circles back around to face his mentor. “I’m good, Tony. I’m fine. Let’s get out of here.”

“You’re not threatening.” Tony points out, hiding a wince as he pokes at his tender wrists. “You’re about as threatening as Elmo on sabbatical.”

“I won’t stand for this abuse.” Peter sways dangerously, and Tony catches him with a firm grip on his shoulder. He guides Peter into the chair he had just vacated, pushing him down firmly, and Peter can’t help but oblige. “...I guess I’ll sit for it.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“We can’t just sit here.” Peter protests, even as he does just that, and sits there. Tony’s firm grip on his shoulder is too much to fight, at the moment. “We have to get out of here before they come back.”

“No, we don’t.” Tony finally releases Peter’s shoulder and taps two fingers to the face of his watch, pulling up a hologram. There’s two red dots, and one of them is moving closer. “Morons didn’t take my tech. The team’s already enroute.”

“Oh,” Peter slumps in the chair, relieved. That wasn’t too bad, then, was it? Tony eyes him critically, flicking another hologram up that Peter has to assume are his vitals. The fact that Tony’s watch has the capacity to scan his vitals should be more worrisome. “What’s the ETA?”

His question is answered when the door flies open, making Peter flinch, hard. Two of the wannabe kidnappers are thrown bodily into the room, cursing and groaning when they land on hard concrete. Peter can see Falcon’s outline, as he flies into the room, hear Cap and company chatting on the man’s comm line, and it’s all so damn loud. Peter tries to concentrate on Tony’s heartbeat, thumping along, but before he can think too much about it, the man’s hands are on his ears.

Peter looks up, confused but grateful, as Tony’s palms cover his ears completely. Tony smiles gently, reassuringly, before pulling Peter’s head forward into his chest, giving him somewhere dark and quiet. Peter closes his eyes, blocking out the fighting - he can’t block it all the way, but it’s better, and more than that, the gesture brings a small smile to his face.

The fighting lasts a few good minutes, and Tony says something muffled that sounds like, Get them out of here, the kid has a concussion. When Tony does release him, the room is empty again - but the doors are wide open, beckoning freedom.

“That was easy.” Peter notes, and Tony snorts, stepping back to let Peter up out of the chair. “That wasn’t so bad, really. Pretty short for a kidnapping. Nothing even happened.”

“They gave you the mother of all concussions, I wouldn’t call that nothing.”

“What’s a little MTBI among friends?”

“Please tell me you didn’t just call the criminals your friends.” Tony pinches the bridge of his nose before rolling his eyes skywards, as if he could ascend to Heaven and leave Peter’s mortal plane bullshit behind him by sheer force of will. “MTBI?”

“Mild Traumatic Brain Injury.”

Tony sighs loudly even as Peter grins a bright, shit-eating smile. He loops his arm around Peter’s shoulders, pulling him into his side, and waggles an accusatory finger at him. “I hate you, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Peter snickers to himself, wrapping his free arm around Tony’s waist to return the one-armed hug. “I know.”

[thwip--thwip]

5, 12, and 44 😈 ILU

Did you used to get things as a child when you screamed? I’ll let you know right now that it’s not going to help you here.

You’re in a well? Is it more like the Buffalo Bill one or the Samara one?

This joke goes beyond practical and far into sadistic territory. 

This…got out of control so fast. Enjoy your 2.5k O:

Tony has to admit, this wasn’t how he saw his day going.

Things had been going just fine, business-as-usual; he had taken Peter Christmas shopping, which was no small affair. Normally, Tony wouldn’t be braving the veritable throngs of wailing children and exhausted parents just for a 20% deal on a pair of socks (seriously? 20% was the best they could do?), but when he’d said as much with an offhand quip about shopping online, Peter had regarded him more seriously than he’d anticipated.

“Christmas gifts need to come from the heart, Mr. Stark.”

How a blender you bought at Macy’s had more heart than a blender you bought online, Tony didn’t know (maybe it had something to do with the number of people you had to elbow out of the way?), but he also thinks it’s because Peter is insistent on spending his own money. Tony would much rather the kid use it to take his girlfriend out (he’d come back from the disaster of a trip with a girlfriend, and while it wasn’t quite worth the panic and terror of watching Spiderman take down a madman in a literal London blitz, Tony had to admit, Peter was being adorable about the whole thing).

Regardless, they’re perusing through the JCPenny perfume section (Tony told him not to buy MJ a fragrance, but did Peter listen? It looks like he might, though, because so far he hasn’t liked any of the scents, nose wrinkling more and more with each spritz) when everything goes to hell.

Peter cringes a full two seconds before the first explosion hits, tackling Tony out of the way as the storefront windows blow out. They land hard, skidding across the tile until Peter stops them by a clearance rack. The kid’s already up on one knee, and he makes eye contact with Tony for the briefest instant before he’s up and running for the dressing rooms.

“Kid - “ Tony starts, but Peter’s already gone. Spiderman swings out not three seconds later (was he wearing the suit under his clothes), launching himself into the mall proper.

Tony doesn’t have the suit. Tony doesn’t have the suit. He knew something like this was likely to happen eventually - he still has his watch, a few tricks on the new prosthetic arm he’s wearing - but his heart can’t take the kind of stress the Iron Man suit requires. It’s the first time he’s been caught in a situation like this since Thanos, and it’s panic-inducing, dizzyingly so - especially when Peter jumps right into action with no back-up.

Tony swallows down the tightness in his chest (no panic attack, not right now, chill the fuck out) and gets his feet under him, heading towards the chaos. People are running for cover, screaming - Santa bolts towards the FYE, beard flying off and landing somewhere on the floor behind him.

“Gobby, we talked about this!” Peter sails overhead, swinging around a column and trying to kick the Green Goblin off his glider. He aborts the move at the last second, while the Goblin swings at him with what looks like a sword. “Do you want to make the naughty list three years in a row?”

Gobby cackles in a way that makes the hair on Tony’s remaining arm stand up on end, gnashing his teeth, and he zooms after Peter, launching another handful of pumpkin bombs at the kid.

There’s a man throwing bombs at his kid.

“FRIDAY, get us some back-up here,” Tony instructs the AI through his watch, though he’s sure she’s already put in the necessary calls. It still doesn’t make it any easier, watching Peter dance and dodge out of the Goblin’s way (barely, barely, every time is a razor’s edge to pure disaster). Tony moves to help a few people up off the ground, keeping an eye on the fight the whole time - the atrium is nearly empty, thankfully, shoppers having dashed for the cover of the stores.

Another bomb goes off - this time, part of the ceiling goes with it. A sizeable chunk hits Peter as he’s trying to swing away from it, and sends him sprawling. It’s not enough to seriously hurt him (Tony doesn’t think), but it still makes his heart leap up into his throat. Either way, the second of distraction is all it takes for Goblin to end up on top of him.

“I’ve got you now, little spider,” Goblin snarls, one hand wrapped around Peter’s throat, and Tony sees red.

“Hey douchecanoe!” Tony yells, drawing attention to himself. The man’s head snaps up, crazed eyes zeroing in on Tony. “Yeah, I’m talking to you!”

“Mr. Stark - “ Peter starts with a cough, but Goblin is already laughing again - crazily, maddeningly, and Tony doesn’t even have enough time to react. Peter goes flying - Goblin throws him through the Urban Outfitters window in an ostentatious display of broken glass and hipster scarves - and the villain is on Tony in the next instant.

“Hello Mr. Stark,” Goblin giggles, grabbing him bodily and zooming upwards, towards the caved in part of the ceiling. “Fancy seeing you here!”

Tony tries to activate his watch so he can blast this asshole to kingdom come, but the Goblin’s fist comes down on his face, and Tony’s world is enveloped in swift darkness.

***

He wakes up to screaming.

“LET ME OUT! HEY! LET ME OUT!”

Tony groans and winces as he opens his eyes - at least it’s relatively dark, so he doesn’t have to worry about light fucking with his probably-a-concussion - but jesus, the screams are loud and panicked. Whoever it is doesn’t seem to have noticed Tony’s awake just yet, yelling upwards towards -

Huh. They’re in some kind of a hole, which looks to be too deep to climb out of. Great.

“Did you used to get things as a child when you screamed?” Tony grumbles, and the yells cut off abruptly as the person turns to look at him, startled. “I’ll let you know right now, that’s not going to help here.”

“You’re - holy shit, you’re Tony Stark.” His vision focuses in on his fellow prisoner - he looks like he’s Peter’s age, maybe, with thickset eyebrows and curly, dark hair. Tony pushes himself up into a sitting position, back to the (damp) wall, and he bites back another wince when he touches the tender spot on the back of his head, and his hand comes away bloody. Great.

“The one and only. And you are?” Tony glances down at his watch, which is still on his wrist. Goblin, what a dumbfuck - or probably just overly cocky, the prick. He pulls up the hologram and starts executing commands to find out where he is, and to alert the appropriate people.

“Flash, uh, sir. Flash Thompson.” Flash stutters, and Tony spares a second to look at him dubiously (what? Comedic timing waits for no Goblin-related-emergency.)

“Seriously?” Flash nods, eyes wide, and Tony frowns. The name is a) stupid, but b) sounds oddly familiar. His attention is diverted by a chirp from his watch - a location lock, distress signal sent. They’ll be out of here in no time at all. “Well…citizen, no need to worry. Help is on the - Christ.”

There’s an incoming call from SPIDERMAN flashing on the watch’s projection, and Tony pulls it up, careful to hit audio only. “Talk to me, kid.”

“Mr. Stark!” Peter’s relief pitches his voice high, almost a little shrill, coming through the speakers, and Tony dials it down a notch on the volume. “Oh my God, you’re alive!”

“Thought you could get rid of me that easily? I’m disappointed, I thought I taught you better than that.” Tony barely resists the urge to smile when that comment gets a relieved laugh out of Peter, which echoes against the walls of their pit. He’s too aware of his audience, though - Flash, staring at him from the corner - so he tries not to let the worry seep through too much. “Are you okay?”  

“Me? I’m fine,” Peter rushes out, as if the last time Tony saw him, he hadn’t had Goblin’s fingers wrapped around his neck in a chokehold. “Are you okay? He turned on his cloaking tech before I could get after you.”

“I’m fine.” Peter made a skeptical noise at the back of his throat, and Tony bit his tongue to stop from bantering with him - one dubious look at Flash kept it under wraps (the kid wasn’t even trying to hide his blatant interest). “You’ve got my location lock?”

“Yeah, I’m on my way.” Tony opened his mouth to protest, but even without seeing him, Peter must have known what he was going to say because he hurried to continue. “Falcon is en route, but I’m closer.”

“Just be careful,” Tony grumbles to himself, concealing a wince when he rubs at the back of his head. “Could be a trap. He’s got us in a well.”

“Sorry,” Tony can hear the shit-eating grin in Peter’s voice and he closes his eyes so he doesn’t roll them up to the heavens. “Did you just say you’re in a well?”

“Yes I did, and I’d very much appreciate it if I wasn’t anymore.” It’s the closest Tony can get to threatening; Flash looks like he’s about to wet himself with excitement, and the starstruck novelty is beginning to wear off.

“Is it more like the Buffalo Bill well or the Samara well?” Yet again, Tony has to bite his tongue before he can ask what the hell are you doing watching Silence of the Lambs, you’re eleven. All of this holding back is just stockpiling for later. “It rubs the lotion on it’s skin - ”

“Is that Spiderman?” Flash whispers, way too loudly, inching closer. Tony fixes him with his second most intimidating stare, but the kid must be brave (or just stupid), because he’s insistent. “I’m his number one fan.”

“Mr. Stark? Is there someone there with you?”

“Yeah, Gobby’s got a kid here - why are you here, anyway?” A detail he skipped over before, but what is Flash to the Green Goblin? Flash puffs out his chest, looking far too proud.

“I’m Spiderman’s biggest fan! Spiderman - I’m your biggest fan!”

“Yeah, I got that part.” Peter sounds confused, and Tony’s kind of starting to wish he hadn’t woken up. Unconsciousness is pretty blissful, turns out. “Maybe Gobby got jealous. He’s always wanted to be president of my fanclub.”

“You have a fanclub?” Flash says - no, demands - in a way that suggests ‘Spiderman Fan Club’ will be the first thing he Googles as soon as they’re out of this hole. Tony pinches the bridge of his nose - this joke has moved swiftly beyond ‘practical’ and is making a play as far into ‘sadistic’ as possible. Then again, what was Tony expecting from a shopping trip with Peter?

“Shit.” Peter says, half a second before an explosion ends their phone call. Tony doesn’t even have time to react, because the reverberations from said explosion shake the entire well (hole? pit?), and Flash starts screaming again.

“HELP, SOMEBODY HELP! SPIDERMAN HELP ME!”

Flash gets his wish - a web comes out of nowhere and latches onto Flash’s shirt, and the kid is gone before Tony can blink. He starts to stand up, words already forming. “Don’t you dare - “

“Yoink!” Tony’s flying upwards before he can finish the sentence, which he leaves half-formed somewhere at the bottom of the stupid well (along with his stomach). Tony grabs on for dear life, and Peter catches him around the waist, hoisting him under one arm.

“I hate that you said ‘yoink’ out loud. Absolutely disgusting.” Tony feels his stomach swoop as Peter swings them over a mountain of debris and out an opening Tony is very sure they won’t fit through - but somehow, they manage. “Where’s our friend?”

“Who, Flash?” Peter doesn’t sound winded at all, even though they’re booking it down the street, arcing into the next side street. “I tossed him to Falcon.”

“You know that kid?” Suddenly, it clicks. “Wait, that was the shithead whose been giving you a hard time?”

“Aw, man.” Peter groans, torquing them in another direction. “I never should have introduced you to Ned.”

“What - Peter! I wasn’t even - I wanted to know where the Goblin was!”

An explosion that is far too close for comfort answers that question for him, and Peter lets out a yelp as they execute a nausea-inducing maneuver to dodge out of Gobby’s way. Tony hears the high-pitched laughter behind them, and Peter switches Tony to his other arm as he tries to get away.

“I have had enough of this chucklefuck,” Tony growls, and he’s serious. Between the Midtown housewives elbowing them out of the way of the sale racks and Goblin dropping him in the bottom of a well, he’s fed up with today. “Peter. Throw me at him.”

“What?” Goblin throws another pumpkin bomb, and Tony can’t even feel whether or not it singes over how angry he is. “What do you mean throw you at him?”

“I meant what I said, and I said what I meant.” Tony clenches and unclenches his metal fist; he might not be Iron Man anymore, but he’s not dead.

“An elephant’s faithful, one hundred percent.” Peter finishes with a snicker, because of course Tony couldn’t sneak anything by him. “You just want me to chuck you?”

“With a little more precision, yeah. Throw me at him, and when I get him off that knockoff hoverboard, catch me.” Peter only hesitates a half a second before he nods, directing them into a wide arc as he swings back around to face the Goblin. Goblin is behind them, swerving jerkily in the air, in all his teeth-gnashing glory, and Tony curls his hand into a fist.

“One, two - “ Peter throws him on three, and Tony has the satisfaction of watching Goblin’s eyes widen in surprise for the briefest instant - because who would suspect Tony using himself as a projectile, truly? He tries to swerve out of the way, but Tony grabs the end of his hoverboard and yanks, throwing him off balance.

Goblin snarls, blade extending so he can jab down at Tony with it, but it’s too late. Tony lets an electrical charge loose from his prosthesis, shutting the glider down and tasing the fuck out of the Goblin. He buckles, and the glider starts to crash - Tony bails, letting go and free-falling towards the concrete at an alarming speed.

But then there’s the familiar yank of webbing attaching to his shirt, and in the fight against gravity, Peter wins. He changes Tony’s momentum, swinging him upwards like he’s trying to do goddamn yo-yo trick.

“Next year,” Tony wraps an exhausted arm over the kid’s shoulders as Peter tucks him under his arm like a football. He’s still wired from the adrenaline, muscles trembling slightly. “Everybody you know is getting gift cards.”

“Who doesn’t enjoy a good holiday rush?” Peter says, and Tony can hear the smirk in his voice. “It’s the thought that counts.”

“Gift cards, Peter. Gift cards.”

[thwip--thwip]

🎉🎉🎉

We’ve hit a milestone lads, YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS. Prompt list incoming ;) Send them my way!!

EDIT: The prompt list can be found here~

[thwip--thwip]

Ilu i’m so proud of you you complete me same brain etc etc you’re the best, NUMBER 47 “Of course it’s not your fault, it never is.”

SAME BRAIN SAME BRAIN !!

“Of course it’s not your fault, it never is.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry - “

Peter looked like he was well on his way to hyperventilating, the scrapes and bruises still not fully healed from his battle with Mysterio. Tony watched him pace, back and forth, wearing a hole in the carpet, until he just couldn’t anymore. Tony wheeled forward, knocking right into Peter’s knees. The boy yelped, more indignant than hurt, and broke his spiral to shoot Tony a look of confusion. “What was that for?”

“Calm down.” Peter blinked at him with watery eyes, the tears he was barely holding at bay brewing there. Tony smiled sadly, beckoning Peter closer with one hand, the other a phantom at his side. “Oh, Pete. Come here.”

Peter stumbled forward, sinking to his knees next to Tony’s chair. Tony took Peter’s hands in his, squeezing them tightly. “It’s not your fault. You know that, don’t you?”

“Isn’t it? I gave him EDITH, I’m an idiot, I trusted him, and for what? London is literally in ruins and for what? Because I was scared? Because you handed me responsibility and I was too much of a chickenshit - “

“Fury gave you those glasses without my permission!” Tony cut Peter off sharply; he was in a wheelchair, sure, but his tongue was still quick. He squeezed Peter’s hands again, reassuring. “He had them for safekeeping, but you weren’t ready. And that’s okay, Pete, that’s his mistake.”

“The world needs the next Iron Man,” Peter quoted wryly, looking absolutely miserable, and Tony shook his head.

“No, it doesn’t. The world needs you. We need you to be you, kid.” Peter deflated, ducking his head against Tony’s legs, and Tony let his thumb rub a gentle circle into the back of Peter’s hand. “It’s not your fault.”

“It’s not?” Peter muttered quietly, breathlessly, like he wasn’t 100% sure the answer was yes. Tony’s heart ached - would this kid ever catch a break? Tony released Peter’s hands to move his hand up into the kid’s hair, smoothing through the tangled curls. He freed up a matted section of hair, dried blood flaking onto his blanket.

“Of course not, Pete. Of course it’s not your fault.” Peter tilted his head to look up at him, tears spilling over now, and Tony stared back at him, firm. “It never is. Okay?”

“Okay,” Peter sniffed, sighing against Tony’s knee. Tony just petted slowly through his hair, trying to maintain a sense of calm when his fingers found another bloody patch.

“I’ve got you, kid.”

[thwip--thwip]

Director’s cut—TELL ME EVERYTHING ABOUT THE WORLD IS NOT KIND

AH OKAY!! xD your wish is my command, of course

I don’t know if I’ve said this, but the first kernel of an idea that came to me for this fic was literally the line, “The world is not kind, so you have to be.” I was tossing and turning at 3AM and I wondered what the antithesis of “With great power comes great responsibility” line would be, which morphed into well what would Aunt May say to Peter that would leave a lasting impression on him, if the cards were reversed? I remember finally floating off to sleep with that line in my head, and the next day it was still there, so I wrote it down.

I had originally intended to make the alternate timeline very different from the one we all know and (mostly) love, but after I outlined it and started writing, it didn’t really seem organic to do that. Peter is the result of Ben and May’s combined influence (they’re a TEAM, okay, sorry I have feelings…), no matter what order it might take. He’s always going to be good and kind and responsible, no matter the circumstances. What I think ended up being interesting about it is that you get to see that - you get to see that Peter was always going to make the same choices, that Ben and May were always going to help him get there in their own ways. This version of Peter is a little softer and kinder upfront, because he has Ben alive at his back to be strong (whereas Peter puts on a bit of a tougher front when May is alive and not Ben, because he’s taking over the ‘man of the house Uncle Ben’ role, in a way). But he’s always been both of these things simultaneously, in any universe.

The Harry Potter thing came along as I was trying to find a way to introduce May’s imparting-wisdom conversation, and of course I remembered the ‘between what is right and what is easy’ line. I kept up the quotes thing throughout because I thought it was a really sweet thing for the two of them to share (and I headcanon that Peter’s obsession with movies stems from Ben, which is why it pops up so much in the MCU, as Peter’s way of connecting to him). There are five Harry Potter quotes, one Star Trek quote, and three Dr. Seuss quotes in there!

Last but not least: Ben. Ben really was a reverse-engineering situation here, because I needed to figure out what he looked like behind the mythos that is “Uncle Ben”. This started by parsing out what this version of Aunt May was like: a firecracker, yes we’ve seen that, and why is that a good thing? She’s a half of a whole, trying to function on her own (I really like the line in TASM2 when Aunt May says, “-and I don’t know how to do this without Ben!” when she reaches the end of her rope with Peter), and what does she bring to the parenting table? Well: she gets scared, she sets off the fire alarm with her cooking and makes up curse words to express her irritation. She’s the fun, slightly neurotic parent (where do you think Peter gets it from?), who’s not afraid to square up against another PTA mom and tell her where to shove it. 

Naturally and logically, this makes Ben her rock; mellow, steady, off getting the peroxide and the gauze calmly while May yells about helmets and why weren’t you wearing kneepads Peter, what were you thinking? Ben’s a simple man, we know this: with great power comes great responsibility. Do the right thing, always, whatever the cost. Ben has a very clear view of the world, not that it’s a bad thing - he had May to look out for him, to be the one to say yes, but. They have each other’s backs, and the saddest part about it is, they know it (at one point or another, they both point out the fact that if the other one were there, they’d know what to do). I think the fun really happens when Tony realizes he’s a part of this too - that he’s the one they’re looking to, to know what to do, both at the hospital and in the medbay, when Ben steadfastly demands Tony fix what Thanos did (without a doubt in his mind that it’s within Tony’s power, maybe not to succeed, but to try, and that he has to, inherently, because he can).

I have too many favorite lines in this, btw. Each section has something new and fun in it, never had such a blast writing before <3 ;D The response has been amazing, I’m so honored that everyone seems to like it as much as you all do. I really hope whatever I release next can in any way live up to any expectations I accidentally set xD