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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/DestroyatronMk8 on 2025-10-01 02:02:08+00:00.

The Princess was trouble, but Dick had no way to know that. He didn’t even know she was a real Princess. All Dick knew was she was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.

“Looks like Deadpool didn’t make the cut,” April shook her head in mock sadness. “Never meet your heroes, I guess.”

Dick watched the Princess shoo the man away. He was trying to protest, but the Princess drowned him out. “Pretender! Liar! You are no true hero. Be gone from my sight!”

“Eh…” Dick shrugged. “Deadpool’s more of an antihero, anyway.” He’d been watching the Princess for over an hour, now. She’d call out, praying for a hero, but anyone who approached would be subjected to an interview process. So far, all had failed. “Still, it’s nice to have some entertainment while we’re waiting in line.”

This was Dick’s first Comic-Con. He’d scrimped and saved for months to be able to go. More for April’s sake than his own. He liked comics well enough, but he was mostly a video game nerd. Still, he’d thought it’d be fun, and he never could say no when April batted her lashes at him.

If he’d known just how much time he’d spend standing in line, he might have put up more of a fight. Or at least held out for a better bribe than a t-shirt.

Then again, maybe not. Dick sighed. A glance to the left brought his best friend back into view. April was dressed as a female version of Spiderman. No, not Spiderman, he reminded himself. Spider-Gwen. April would be mad if he mixed it up again. The outfit hid her face and most of her skin, but somehow he still found it hard not to stare.

April noticed the sigh, somehow conveying a concerned look despite her fabric covered face. Dick knew better than to try to play cool and brush it off, but he didn’t want to admit it was her he’d been thinking about. To April a platonic friendship was the most natural thing in the world. Dick couldn’t imagine spending two minutes near a girl, any girl, without thinking things that were definitely not platonic. Not that he was dumb enough to her that. Luckily, a very pretty distratction was still yelling at passersby.

“She sure is pretty.” Dick sighed again. His friend followed his gaze and gave him a knowing look.

“Yeah she is,” April agreed. Dick couldn’t see it, but he knew her lips quirked. “Too bad she’s crazy.”

“The pretty ones always are.”

April punched him in the shoulder. Long practice prevented him from making any unmanly pained noises, but he shot her a look. “What was that for?”

“The pretty ones are crazy, huh?” She put a hand on her hip. “What does that make me?”

Dick gave her a grin. “Crazier than most.”

April punched him again. “Jerk.” Then she adjusted her costume’s hood, thinking. “On second thought, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Kind of proving my point, here.” That earned him another punch. “Stop that.” Now his arm was all tingly. Why did she hit him in the same place every time? And why was that place a pressure point?

“Sorry.” April sounded like she meant it. That was one of the things he liked about her. She folded her arms. “You’re still a jerk, though.”

“Yeah,” said Dick. “I can be kind of a Dick, sometimes.”

April rolled her eyes. Dick briefly wished she’d forgone the mask and left her face exposed like some of the other Spider-Gwen cosplayers he’d seen. She was super cute when she rolled her eyes.

“Please, does anyone know of a hero?” the Princess called out again. Dick didn’t know if she was supposed to be an alien princess or an elven one, but he was sure she was a master class in cosplay. A shimmering blue dress clung to her, emphasizing a fit waist and perfect legs. The dress was cut low, revealing a vast expanse of pale cleavage. Dick realized he was staring again, and with an effort of will made himself take in the rest of her costume. She had elf ears that looked real, and some kind of contact that made her blue eyes glow with a pale light. Wavy chestnut hair cascaded down her back, spilling over her shoulders. A silver tiara crowned it, set with a stone in the middle that gave off a golden glow. A silver pendant rested below her neck, some kind of twisty design with a green stone in the middle. The green stone glowed, as well. Even without the costume, Dick suspected she’d be one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, with wide eyes and full lips and a voice that could steal his breath away.

With a start Dick realized he was staring again. He tore his eyes away and said to April, “I think I’ve figured it out.”

“Figured what out?” she asked.

“I’ve figured out what she’s doing.” Dick glanced at the Princess again. A couple guys dressed as Superman were trying to talk to her. “The interview thing.”

“You’ve figured out why she’s giving interviews.” Dick had always found it hard to believe that Spiderman could show so many expressions with his mask on in the comics. April’s dubious look was making him a believer.

“I’ve figured out how she’s giving interviews,” Dick corrected. “Tell her anything that seems made up, that you haven’t done in real life, and you fail.”

“Ok.” April still looked dubious. “So?”

“So I have to tell her my real accomplishments,” Dick explained.

April snorted. “What accomplishments? You just play video games all day.”

“Exactly,” said Dick. “I’ve wielded the tri-force. Saved kingdoms and worlds.” He put his hands hips and puffed his chest out, leaning into the melodrama. “I have slain Gods and monsters.”

“You have eaten cheetos in your Mom’s basement.” April smirked at him. “Wait.” Her head tilted. “Are you actually going to talk to her?”

“I can talk to girls,” said Dick, offended.

“Since when?”

“I talk to you all the time.”

“We’ve been friends since we were eight,” April reminded him. “You were sort of grandfathered in.”

“Whatever.” Dick fixed his gaze on the Princess. “It’s a good plan, and she’s a fellow nerd. This can work.”

“Or she’s just crazy,” April suggested. She peered at the Princess. “She looks like she’s taking this really seriously.”

Dick shrugged. “She’s probably a theater chick. They’re like that sometimes.” He took a breath, gathering himself. “I’m going to go talk to her. Wish me luck.”

POV: Illuna

Illuna was getting desperate. She’d been given 48 hours to complete her task, and that time was almost spent. This world was strange. The city she was in had no walls, no fortifications. She’d seen no horses, and the people traveled in metal wagons that moved themselves. There were no kings, and commoners casually wielded magics that would make an Archmage green with envy.

Finding this place had taken most of her time. She’d asked all over the city where heroes could be found, and one of the commoners had directed her here. Unfortunately, the Worldshift Ritual destroyed anything not specifically enchanted to withstand it, so she’d been unable to bring anything but her clothes and a few magic items. She had no money to purchase entrance, and she’d been forced to use subterfuge and some of her dwindling supply of magic to get in.

Illuna had considered trying to steal food as well. She had found fountains to slake her thirst, but she hadn’t eaten in quite some time. In the end, she decided against it. Such conduct was unbecoming of royalty. More to the point, she didn’t dare risk being imprisoned or expelled from this place. Her people were dying. She couldn’t fail them no matter how hungry she might be.

At first glance, the Comic-Con was teeming with heroes, but Illuna quickly learned they were just pretenders. Their weapons and armor were fake, and so far none had told her the truth, even going so far as to lie about their names. Illuna sent a silent prayer of thanks that she’d been able to bring the Diadem of Wisdom to this world. Without it, she could easily have brought back a false hero by mistake.

She touched the Amulet of the Paragon, checking to see how much time remained. Fear of failure shot up her legs as she found the answer. Just under an hour. If she could not find a champion in just under an hour, she would have to return without one. If she waited any longer, she would not be able to return at all.

“Oh please,” she begged the people around her. “Please, anyone? Does anyone know where I can find a hero?”

A man stepped out of the line he was in. A boy, really. He was not outfitted in the fancy clothes of the pretenders she’d met, clad instead in the outfit of a commoner. Blue pants of some sturdy seeming material. A black shirt. This one had a picture of a green artifact on the front. A lantern, perhaps. The boy was an inch or so taller than Illuna, but skinny. Brown eyes beneath a mop of black hair. No calluses on his hands, and a soft face. No hero, this one.

Still, maybe the boy could at least tell her where to look. Illuna would take whatever help she could get. The woman he’d been standing with turned to watch as he approached. She was dressed as one of the Spider people. Illuna had taken the Spider people for assassins at first, but one of them had assured her that Spider people don’t kill. Theives, perhaps? Illuna supposed it didn’t matter. It was unlikely any group named after spiders would be heroic.

“My lady,” the boy addressed her. “You seem to be in some distress. Might I offer assistance?” The boy was polite, at least. Not everyone had been. Illuna dearly wished she had brought a weapon, but there had barely been time to enchant her dress, and any blade powerful enough to survive the journey on its own was too precious to risk on her desperate…

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