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atlasthegreatest · 26 days ago

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A Hero's First Flight / BlackHill x Supergirl! Female Reader

During the Chitauri invasion, Y/n, a Kryptonian university student, reveals her powers to aid the Avengers but disappears before they can meet her. Years later, now known as Supergirl, she helps during the Winter Soldier crisis. After S.H.I.E.L.D.’s fall, Maria Hill and Natasha Romanoff track her down, and the three grow closer as they fight crime together.

Word count: 4259

A/n: This was requested by an anon. Enjoy it!

The day started like any other. Y/n was just a college student—Kryptonian heritage or not—trying to survive finals season. But when the sky over New York split open, and the Chitauri poured through the portal, all thoughts of exams vanished. It was the kind of disaster that demanded action. And for the first time, she couldn’t keep her powers a secret.

The chaos of the invasion was overwhelming. Buildings crumbled, civilians screamed, and the Avengers fought with everything they had—but they were outnumbered. Y/n made a split-second decision, shedding her normal life like a second skin.

With the wind in her hair and her heart hammering in her chest, Y/n soared into the fray. The makeshift costume—just her college sweatshirt and jeans—wasn’t exactly heroic, but she didn’t have time to care. Y/n hit the Chitauri like a meteor, fists glowing with heat vision as she tore through their ranks. Thor shot her a surprised look; Iron Man barely dodged her in mid-flight.

Natasha Romanoff and Maria Hill saw her too—briefly. Y/n locked eyes with them during a lull in the chaos. Natasha’s brow arched in curiosity, and Maria’s calculating gaze pinned her like a hawk sighting prey. But there was no time to talk. As quickly as Y/n had come, she vanished into the smoke and the sky.

Two Years Later – Washington D.C.

The years since the invasion hadn’t been easy, but they had shaped Y/n into a hero. Now, with a proper suit—a vibrant blend of red, blue, and gold—she was known to the world as Supergirl. She’d fought rogue metas, intercepted disasters, and even helped the Avengers once or twice. But today was different. Today was Hydra.

The helicarriers loomed above Washington D.C., ready to rain destruction upon countless innocent lives. And Y/n wasn’t about to let that happen.

While Captain America and his team fought on the ground, Y/n focused on the sky. Grabbing the first helicarrier by the underbelly, she carefully directed it toward the river. It took every ounce of control she had—raw strength tempered with precision—to land it safely without damaging the city below.

Y/n was guiding the third helicarrier down when she spotted them—Maria and Natasha—on a rooftop, both watching her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. Once again, their eyes met, and something flickered between them. Recognition. Curiosity. Maybe even relief. But just like before, there wasn’t time for words.

With the mission complete, and the helicarriers grounded without casualties, Y/n gave them a small nod before shooting into the sky, disappearing once more.

———————-

The fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. left a power vacuum in the world—and Maria Hill and Natasha Romanoff at a crossroads. They could’ve gone underground and vanished into the shadows like so many other agents. But instead, they tracked Y/n down.

When they showed up in Y/n’s city, it wasn’t with orders or missions—it was with the quiet promise of partnership. “We figured if you’re staying, we might as well help,” Maria had said with that calm, unflappable tone Y/n was beginning to associate with her.

Y/n wasn’t used to having partners—not in the long term, at least. But Maria and Natasha were patient. They followed her lead, slipping seamlessly into her routines as they patrolled the streets and dealt with smaller threats—smugglers, burglars, and the occasional rogue metahuman.

And somewhere between the fights and quiet nights, the three of them started to fit in.

It happened gradually, almost imperceptibly at first. The three of them began to sync—their movements on patrol flowing as if they’d trained together for years. Natasha’s dry humor kept the night light, and Maria’s steady presence grounded Y/n in ways she hadn’t realized she needed.

It was the little things that stuck with Y/n. The way Natasha’s hand would brush hers as they walked down dark streets. The way Maria’s shoulder would linger against hers when they stood side by side on rooftops.

And then, one night, things shifted.

They’d just taken down a group of smugglers, the adrenaline still thrumming in Y/n’s veins as she sat on the edge of a rooftop. Natasha leaned casually against her side, the warmth of her body seeping into her. Maria sat on Y/n’s other side, her hand resting on her thigh in a way that felt more like reassurance than necessity.

“You know,” Natasha murmured, her voice soft but amused, “you’re not half bad at this hero thing.”

Y/n huffed out a laugh. “Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Maria’s hand gave a gentle squeeze, her dark eyes warm with something Y/n couldn’t quite name. “It’s good to have someone to rely on.”

The unspoken truth settled between the three of you—none of you had to do this alone anymore.

The moment Y/n realized she was in too deep came on an unassuming night. Y/n was curled up on the couch with Maria and Natasha—Natasha sprawled lazily across her lap, Maria’s hand entwined with hers. The movie on the TV was little more than background noise, but none of them seemed to care.

It was peaceful. Warm. And for the first time in years, they felt… safe.

“I was wondering,” Natasha said lazily, tilting her head to look up at Y/n, “are you going to disappear on us again?”

Y/n smiled, brushing a stray curl from her forehead. “No. I think I’m done running.”

Maria’s thumb traced idle circles over Y/n’s knuckles, a rare smile playing at the edges of her lips. “Good.”

Natasha smirked, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Guess you’re stuck with us now.”

And in that quiet, intimate moment, with Maria and Natasha pressed close, Y/n knew without a doubt that she wouldn’t have it any other way.

———————-

Life as a hero wasn’t easy, and neither was love. But with Maria Hill and Natasha Romanoff by Y/n’s side, the impossible didn’t seem so daunting. Together, they fought crime, shared laughter, and found solace in each other’s arms.

And for the first time since the invasion of 2012, Y/n felt like she belonged.

She wasn’t just a hero. She wasn’t just Supergirl. She was theirs—and they were hers.

The adjustment to life with Maria and Natasha was seamless in some ways, and challenging in others. Y/n never had anyone to fall back on before, but now they were there—like a constant rhythm you could lean on. They fought crime together, shared meals, and unwound on late nights with lazy conversations and fleeting touches that lingered longer than necessary.

But letting people in was unfamiliar. Trusting them—trusting them—felt like standing on the edge of a cliff, hoping they’d catch her before she fell.

One evening after patrol, the three of them sat in Y/n’s tiny apartment, rain drumming against the windows. Natasha had commandeered the kitchen, assembling snacks with surprising skill, while Maria was at the table, cleaning her sidearm with meticulous precision.

Y/n hovered near the window, arms folded, eyes unfocused on the darkened street below. Something about the quiet felt heavier tonight—like the weight of the secrets she hadn’t yet shared.

Maria noticed first. She always did.

“You okay?” she asked softly, not looking up from her work.

Natasha glanced over her shoulder from the kitchen, her brow raising in subtle concern.

Y/n sighed, shifting her weight. “I’m just… not used to this.”

“To what?” Natasha asked, wiping her hands on a towel and moving to lean casually against the counter.

“This,” Y/n repeated, gesturing vaguely between the three of them. “Having people. Letting them close. It’s new.”

Maria set her gun down carefully, her gaze steady but not pressing. “We get that.”

Natasha crossed the room and stopped in front of Y/n, tilting her head slightly as if reading between the lines of everything Y/n hadn’t said. “We’re not going anywhere.”

The simplicity of the statement made Y/n’s chest ache. It was a promise, one that felt solid in a way few things ever had. Y/n gave them a small, hesitant smile. “Okay.”

And somehow, that one word carried more weight than any vow.

————————

Things shifted again during a mission a few weeks later—a coordinated takedown of an arms dealer operating out of the docks. The night was cold, the air sharp with the scent of salt and metal. Y/n and Natasha swept through the shadows while Maria directed from a nearby rooftop, her voice calm and clear over the comms.

The mission was routine—until it wasn’t. A group of mercenaries appeared, ambushing you from the side. Y/n moved faster than thought, intercepting a bullet aimed at Natasha’s back, the force of it barely registering against her skin.

Natasha turned just in time to see Y/n drop the gunman with a single, decisive punch. Her green eyes narrowed, sharp with something Y/n couldn’t quite place—something intense, almost dangerous.

“Thanks,” she muttered, but there was a flicker of frustration behind her gratitude.

Later, after the fight was over and the three of them were back at the apartment, Natasha cornered Y/n in the hallway. Her jaw was tight, her eyes stormy. “You didn’t need to take that risk.”

Y/n crossed your arms, meeting her gaze head-on. “I can handle a bullet, Natasha.”

“That’s not the point.”

Maria appeared in the doorway, her expression unreadable. “Nat…” she warned gently, but Natasha shook her head, unwilling to let it go.

“You scared me,” Natasha admitted, her voice quieter now, but no less fierce. “You can’t just throw yourself in harm’s way like that. Not for me.”

Y/n blinked, startled by the raw honesty in her words. “I’d do it again,” she said softly, and the truth of it settled heavily between you.

Maria’s gaze softened, and Natasha sighed, running a hand through her hair. “You’re impossible,” she muttered, but the fight had drained from her.

Y/n gave a small, crooked smile. “I learned from the bests.”

Natasha huffed out a reluctant laugh, and Maria stepped closer, threading her fingers through Y/n’s with quiet reassurance. At that moment, the tension dissolved, leaving only the steady beat of their shared connection.

————————

It happened on a quiet night, with no missions, no emergencies—just the three of them curled up on the couch. Y/n wore one of Maria’s sweatshirts, soft and oversized, and Natasha’s head rested in her lap, her hands idly playing with the hem of Y/n’s shirt.

Maria sat beside Y/n, legs tucked beneath her, reading a book she’d picked up from a local shop. The room was warm, lit only by the soft glow of a lamp, and for once, the world outside felt distant.

It was Natasha who broke the silence, her voice soft and teasing. “So… are we ever going to talk about this?”

Y/n blinked down at her, pretending not to understand. “Talk about what?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “This. Us. The fact that we’ve been dancing around it for weeks.”

Maria set her book down, glancing between Y/n and Natasha with a raised brow. “She’s not wrong.”

Heat crept into Y/n’s cheeks, but she didn’t pull away. “I thought we were doing okay without labels.”

“We are,” Maria said, her voice steady. “But that doesn’t mean we don’t want more.”

Y/n’s heart stuttered at the quiet honesty in her words. Natasha sat up, shifting so she was closer to her, her hand sliding along Y/n’s jaw in a way that sent sparks down her spine.

“We’re all in if you are,” she murmured, her green eyes searching Y/n’s. “No running. No hiding.”

For a moment, all Y/n could do was stare at them—two women who had slipped into her life with unexpected ease, who had seen her at her strongest and her most vulnerable, and stayed.

Then, with a breathless laugh, Y/n leaned in, pressing her lips to Natasha’s first—a kiss that was soft warm, and long overdue. She hummed in approval, her hands tangling in Y/n’s hair.

When Y/n pulled back, Maria was waiting, her gaze steady and unwavering. Y/n kissed her next, slow and deliberately, savoring the way Maria melted into her with a quiet sigh.

When Y/n finally pulled away, the three of them sat there in the warm, comfortable silence, tangled together in a way that felt permanent.

And for the first time in a long time, Y/n didn’t feel like she was flying alone.

The road ahead wouldn’t be easy. There would be more missions, more battles, and more moments of doubt. But Y/n knew now that whatever came next, she wouldn’t have to face it alone.

With Maria and Natasha by her side, the future felt less like a looming storm and more like a promise—a constellation of moments, each one brighter because Y/n had them with her.

And in that, Y/n found something she never expected: peace.

———————

It started with a text from Tony Stark. Y/n wasn’t entirely sure how he got her number (probably Natasha), but the message was clear:

Tony: You. Nat. Hill. Dinner at the Tower. No excuses. Bring a side dish.

Maria raised an eyebrow when Y/n showed her the message, and Natasha only smirked knowingly. “He’s persistent. It’s easier just to show up.”

And that’s how Y/n found herself standing at the entrance of the Avengers Tower with Maria on one side, Natasha on the other, and a homemade pie in her hands. Why a pie? Honestly, Y/n had no idea. Baking seemed safer than experimenting with a casserole that could get critiqued by Stark.

Natasha led the way inside, and it didn’t take long for Tony to appear, arms wide, wearing a smug grin. “Ah, the power couple. And our very own Girl of Steel. Welcome!”

“Technically, we’re a trio,” Maria said coolly, brushing past him without missing a beat.

Tony blinked, clearly caught off guard for half a second before a grin stretched across his face. “Well now. This just got more interesting.”

Natasha shot him a warning glance. “Don’t start.”

The common area was bustling. Steve Rogers stood by the counter, chatting with Sam Wilson and Bruce Banner, while Thor sampled everything on the snack table with enthusiasm. Clint Barton waved at Natasha from the couch, where he was lounging with an entire bowl of popcorn in his lap.

And then there was Y/n, standing slightly awkwardly with her pie as the most powerful people on Earth sized her up like a curious science experiment.

Thor was the first to approach, his booming laugh filling the room. “Ah, Supergirl! The woman of legend! I saw you lift a helicarrier—impressive indeed.” He clapped a heavy hand on Y/n’s shoulder.

Y/n gave him a small, awkward smile. “Thanks. It was… kind of easy.”

Sam chuckled from the counter. “You’re telling me she casually landed helicarriers and brought dessert? I like her already.”

Natasha rolled her eyes affectionately as she slipped an arm around Y/n’s waist. “Play nice, Wilson.”

“Relax, Romanoff,” Sam teased. “We’re just trying to figure out how you managed to land someone so far out of your league.”

Y/n snorted despite herself, and Maria gave Sam an approving nod. “I like him,” she said quietly to Natasha, who only smirked.

Steve stepped forward next, extending a hand to Y/n. “It’s good to finally meet you. We’ve heard a lot about you.”

“From who?” Y/n asked, raising a curious brow.

Steve glanced toward Natasha with a knowing smile. “A little birdie.”

Natasha gave him a deadpan look. “You’re pushing it, Rogers.”

———————-

Dinner was as chaotic as Y/n expected. Tony and Sam took turns trying to outdo each other with snarky quips. Thor declared the mashed potatoes “worthy of Asgard” and challenged Y/n to an arm-wrestling contest that Maria promptly vetoed. Clint told a half-true story about Natasha’s time in Budapest, which she denied with an exaggerated groan.

Y/n found yourself relaxing into the banter, marveling at how easy it was to fall into step with this ragtag family. They had fought gods and monsters and saved the world more times than anyone could count, but here they were—bickering over side dishes and arguing about whose turn it was to do the dishes.

At one point, Tony raised a glass. “To our newest hero! Supergirl, savior of helicarriers, protector of pie.”

Everyone raised their drinks, and Y/n gave an embarrassed laugh. “I didn’t save that much pie,” she joked, nodding toward Thor, who was well into his third slice.

“It’s delicious!” Thor declared around a mouthful, giving Y/n an enthusiastic thumbs-up.

Maria leaned in close, her shoulder brushing Y/n’s. “See? You’re fitting right in.”

After dinner, things took a slightly more mischievous turn. Tony leaned back in his chair, swirling the last of his drink. “So… the three of you, huh?”

Natasha didn’t even blink. “Yes.”

“And we should probably not ask questions, right?” Sam chimed in, grinning.

Maria gave them both a look that could’ve frozen lava. “Smart men.”

Clint, however, was far less cautious. “Wait, so you’re telling me you, Nat, and Hill are—��

“Yes,” Natasha cut him off with a smirk, clearly enjoying the way Clint sputtered.

“Nice,” Clint muttered under his breath, looking mildly impressed.

Steve cleared his throat, his expression somewhere between amused and exasperated. “Let’s focus on what really matters—what’s the plan for the next big mission?”

Y/n shrugged, glancing between Maria and Natasha. “Honestly? I think we’ll keep doing what we’re doing. Small stuff, local work. Not everything has to be an alien invasion or an apocalyptic threat.”

Natasha nodded. “Sometimes the small things make the biggest difference.”

Maria gave a rare smile. “Besides, we’re exactly where we need to be.”

———————

As the night wound down, Y/n found herself on the Tower’s balcony with Natasha and Maria, gazing out at the glittering city below. The cool night breeze ruffled Y/n’s hair, and Natasha leaned against the railing, her hand brushing hers.

“Not bad, huh?” she murmured, a soft smile playing on her lips.

Y/n laughed lightly. “They’re not as scary as I thought they’d be.”

Maria chuckled. “Give them time.”

Natasha squeezed Y/n’s hand gently. “You held your own. They like you.”

Y/n glanced between them, feeling the quiet warmth settle in her chest. “And you two? Do you like me?”

Maria smirked, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of Y/n’s mouth. “We’ll let you know.”

Natasha laughed softly, wrapping an arm around Y/n’s waist. “You’re stuck with us now, Supergirl.”

And for the first time, surrounded by friends and the two women who had become Y/n’s whole world, she knew there was nowhere else she’d rather be.

Bonus Chapter:

The Avengers had a reputation for intense training sessions, and somehow Y/n’d been roped into one. It started with Clint taunting Natasha, which led to Maria getting involved, and now here they were—standing in the Avengers’ training facility with Thor, Steve, and Sam watching like kids in a candy store.

Natasha cracked her knuckles with a mischievous glint in her eye, and Maria stood beside her, arms folded, looking way too smug for Y/n’s liking.

“We’ve seen you take on alien armies,” Maria said with an edge of challenge. “But let’s see how you do with a little hand-to-hand combat.”

Y/n raised a brow, giving her a playful smirk. “You really think you two can take me down?”

“Oh, we don’t think,” Natasha said, rolling her shoulders. “We know.”

Natasha took point first, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. Even though you had Kryptonian abilities, Y/n knew better than to underestimate the Widow. She was lethal, and Y/n wasn’t about to get too cocky.

She moved fast—faster than most humans—but Y/n saw it coming. A jab to her ribs, a leg sweep, and a feint toward her face. Y/n dodged with minimal effort, twisting her body just enough to avoid each blow without having to go on the offensive.

“Not bad,” Natasha murmured as she circled her.

“Same to you,” Y/n replied with a grin. “You always this slow?”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed, and the playful tension ratcheted up a notch. This time, she darted in close, attempting to trap Y/n’s wrist in an armlock. But Y/n was faster. Y/n caught her mid-movement, spun her gently but decisively, and pinned her against the padded wall.

Natasha’s breath came out in a soft huff, her lips inches from Y/n’s. “Show-off,” she muttered, though the ghost of a smile tugged at her mouth.

“Next?” Y/n asked, glancing toward Maria.

Maria stepped onto the mat, cool and collected as always. She gave Natasha a quick once-over as if mentally critiquing her performance, before turning her attention to Y/n.

“Don’t get cocky,” she said smoothly. “I know your moves now.”

Y/n smirked. “I know yours too.”

The two of them circled each other, tension thick in the air. Maria was more calculated than Natasha, each movement deliberate and precise. She didn’t waste energy on feints or flashy attacks—every punch and kick was perfectly timed.

But Y/n was Kryptonian. And though she tried to hold back, her reflexes were still leagues beyond human.

Maria lunged, aiming to catch Y/n’s off-balance, but Y/n shifted, spinning out of her reach and gently tapping her shoulder as she passed. “Missed me.”

Maria’s eyes narrowed dangerously, but before she could make another move, Thor’s booming laugh echoed from the sidelines.

“She fights like a Valkyrie!” Thor declared. “But with far more charm.”

Maria shot him a look that could’ve leveled a city block. “Stay out of this, Asgard.”

What happened next was entirely Clint’s fault. He leaned over to Steve, not bothering to lower his voice. “Ten bucks says Maria sweeps her legs in the next thirty seconds.”

“Deal,” Steve replied, shaking his hand with a grin.

Maria, overhearing this, muttered under her breath, “Idiots,” and lunged at Y/n again.

Y/n ducked—just barely—but in the process, Natasha decided to jump back in, catching her from the side. The three of them tumbled to the mat in a graceless heap. Natasha pinned Y/n’s legs, and Maria wrestled her arms into an awkward hold, but not before Y/n managed to twist and knock Natasha flat on her back.

“Really?” Natasha groaned from beneath Y/n, shooting Maria an exasperated glance.

“I thought you had her,” Maria replied dryly, still trying to maintain her grip on Y/n’s wrist.

From the sidelines, Tony’s voice echoed across the room. “This is the greatest thing I’ve ever seen. Someone better be recording this.”

Sam leaned over and whispered to Clint, “I’m not even sure who’s winning anymore.”

Thor beamed. “Everyone is winning! This is glorious!”

After a few more moments of struggling, Y/n finally collapsed onto the mat in a fit of laughter, dragging both Maria and Natasha with her. They groaned dramatically, limbs tangled with her, but there was no real frustration—just the warmth of shared amusement.

“I think I win,” Y/n said breathlessly, grinning up at the ceiling.

Natasha propped herself up on one elbow, shaking her head with a playful smile. “You’re insufferable.”

Maria smirked, brushing a loose strand of hair from Y/n’s face. “We’ll call it a draw.”

Y/n chuckled, her heart light with affection for both of them. “Fine. But only because I like you two.”

Natasha leaned in closer, her breath warm against Y/n’s ear. “Careful, Supergirl. We might make this a regular thing.”

———————

Eventually, the three of them untangled themselves and got to their feet, still laughing. Maria dusted off her pants, and Natasha stretched, rolling her neck.

As they made their way off the mat, Clint clapped his hands together. “Well, that was amazing. I’d pay good money to watch that again.”

Steve chuckled. “Careful what you wish for, Barton.”

Tony sauntered over, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. “So, when do we get a rematch? I think I could take you.”

Y/n arched a brow, crossing her arms. “You? Against me?”

“Hey, I’ve got armor. It evens the odds.”

Natasha smirked. “No, it doesn’t.”

Maria shot Tony a dry look. “Please don’t embarrass yourself, Stark.”

Tony feigned offense, but the twinkle in his eye gave him away. “Fine. But next time, I want popcorn. And someone better get it on camera.”

Later that night, the three of them sat on the Tower’s balcony, sharing a bottle of wine that Natasha had pilfered from Tony’s stash. The city sparkled beneath them, and the cool night air wrapped around them like a comforting blanket.

Maria leaned against Y/n, her head resting on her shoulder, while Natasha sprawled lazily beside Y/n, her hand tracing idle patterns on her thigh.

“You’re getting good at this,” Natasha murmured, her voice soft and content.

“At what?” Y/n asked, smiling.

“This.” Maria gestured lazily to the world around them. “Letting us in.”

Y/n chuckled, pressing a kiss to her temple. “It’s not so bad.”

Natasha hummed in agreement, her eyes half-closed. “Told you. You’re stuck with us now.”

And as the three of them sat together, watching the stars flicker above the skyline, Y/n knew she was right. She’d found her place—her people—and there was nowhere else she’d rather be.

#marvel #mcu #natasha romanoff #maria hill #blackhill #female reader #gxgxg #polyamourous #natasha romanoff x reader #maria hill x reader #the avengers

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lokittystuckinatree · 5 months ago

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Happy Pride losers, I’m ready to be clowned but my dumb ass is now convinced Rogue is the Master…

Rogue and Renegade have eerily similar meanings under the right circumstance.

To rebel against an organized group. To go rogue.

An endearingly naughty person

Koschei, our second fave Renegade Time Lord

Apparently they were also called a Rogue Time Lord? I am not making this up.

Although Maestro is Master in Italian and look how that turned out

“Lord” interesting.

Red and Blue. The master and 13 were red and blue coded respectively. Have they switched, Symbolically?

Rogue was looking at the Doctor rather nefariously, even once they were buddies. Just go through some of the scenes again. It’s harder than you’d think to tell if he’s trying to seem seductive or evil

The entire premise of this ep seems to be “things are not as they seem; people are not as they appear” which is a Master staple

The Master has been haunting the fuck out of the narrative lately.

Here’s my thread on just how much

When I saw the first trailer, I instinctively thought “ballroom dance guy” was gonna be the new Master

The inside of Rogue’s (familiarly messy) ship has controls eerily similar to the configuration of a TARDIS.

Rogue is obviously a time traveler if he has that space ship and knows DnD (Rogue + Time + Lord. Oh?)

DnD might be a dead giveaway

Was Rogue’s name being inspired by DnD necessary to include? Cute thing the writers wanted to put in, or clue?

Why would Rogue know what DnD was but not know what cosplay or improv was?

The Master has been taken prisoner by the Toymaker, infamous for his love of? Games. You know who also has a running theme of “winning” and “losing”? The Master

In DnD you play as a character and rely on skill and chance to survive within the confines of a structured storytelling game. Bending the rules is often involved. The Master tried that against the Toymaker and failed.

DnD players will often have little tiny figurines of their characters. Remind you of anything?

the Master is a dnd rogue archetype. Trickster, lone wolf, shapeshifter.

If the Doctor is symbolically trapped in a TV show, is the Master trapped in a game? If the Toymaker is the DM, is he going rogue against the Toymaker?

The Master is infamous for their disguises and “cosplays” and has catfished the Doctor before.

Rogue is almost suspiciously too much the Doctor’s type. He’s like the love child of River Song and Jack Harkness. He is exactly the type of character the Master would create to lure and seduce the Doctor.

He and the Doctor just…get each other. It’s like they’ve known each other for much longer than a few hours. They’re too cushy (haha)

Rogue threatened to kill the Doctor, and then imprisoned him in a nice little cage. Familiar?

He tried to make the Doctor kill Ruby, who we all know is just Clara 2.0. Familiar?

He knows too much and too little

He knew the party was attended by alien birb people but only knew about one alien birb? And did he reaaaally think Doc was an alien bird?

The Dancing. They knew they wanted there to be a dance party before they even settled on a time period setting for the episode. Enough said.

The ring was…interesting

That’s a lot of commitment, even if only a promise ring. Something tells me he intended it as an engagement ring though

Someone tried to write a book in the 80s where 5 and Ainley were ex spouses, but it was shot down

Just an unrelated detail, but a ring on the pinky is a gay thing

Mirroring. Thoschei do that. A lot.

“You!” “No, you!” “no, you!”

The way they danced

The scene where they kept turning on and off the music

Speaking of music…Bad Guy by Billie Eilish? Too on the nose? Can’t get you out of my head? Poker face?

You remember that lady’s hand that picked up the Master in his widdle toof? Hand of the Rani?

This episode was written by two women. The Master would literally be in women’s hands

I remember watching Sacha Dhawan’s Spy Master for the first time and going…darn, he reminds me so much of Avengers era Loki. Kate Herron directed season 1 of the Loki Series and had a lot of creative control. Would it really be surprising if RTD (confirmed Loki fan) went to her for the Master after Sacha?

Didn’t Russell say he’s leaving the Master for “other writers?”

“The Master is parked” did he happen to park a Tardis disguised as an everyday spaceship???

In an interview, Kate said she and Briony designed Rogue to be the Doctor’s “equal”

References

“When I see him, I’ll know” and he is drawn to Rogue like a magnet.

“Travel with me” who must you be to want the Doctor to be your companion instead of vice verse

“We can argue across the stars”

“I’m in your head” + “can’t get you out of my head” + the Master being referenced multiple times in almost every episode since PoTD

“I’m trigger happy” feels really fucking intentional

He said “find me.” If he is the Master, the person he lost was the Doctor, (notice he said “them” and not “her” or “him?”) and the Master and Doctor always find each other.

Scream of the Shalka? And didn’t the Master fall through the floor like 40 times in Curse of Fatal Death? Richard E Grant was the Doctor in both of those.

For more, @bugeater77 and friends have this lovely thread

Guys CHECK MY REBLOG, RTD posted something wild.

#Thoschei #the master #doctor/master #doctor who #doctor who spoilers #rogue doctor who #ncuti gatwa #jonathan groff #sacha dhawan #15th doctor #I’m delusional but I am free #update: I might not be as delusional as I thought. the more I think about it the more sense it makes #if Rogue is the Master we won’t get his reveal until next year. big finish diiiid say 2025 was a big year for the Master

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roguishcat · 3 months ago

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Augustarion Day 2 – Pool Party 🌊

This was supposed to be 500 words. It isn't. Also, it was supposed to be a fun, light-hearted drabble. I have no clue how it turned into angst/comfort. Nevertheless, I enjoyed writing it and hope you will enjoy reading it! ❤️

Day 1 - Strawberries, Day 4 - Mythologies, Day 6 - Cream, Day 7 - Underwear, Day 14 - Protective, Day 15 - Shirt that goes hard

Pairing: the reader (You) x Astarion

Tags: Insecurities, mild angst/comfort, implied nudity

It was yet another boiling hot day and the group was suffering. Having to wear heavy leather armour and full supply packs whilst encountering a veritable cornucopia of monsters certainly did not help their mood.

When you saw the glittering blue thread of the river on the horizon, you felt like falling on your knees and weeping tears of joy. The rest seemed to be just as excited as you at the prospect of washing the grime and dirt off their sweat slicked bodies. Even Lae’zel for once did not complain when Gale tentatively suggested that they continue on in that direction.

Your steps quickened and after another hour you finally felt a cool breeze caress your cheeks. You looked over at your rogue walking a little behind you, the gentle wind teasing his silver curls. Astarion was the least affected by the weather but even he seemed to visibly relax when he realised that they would be stopping shortly.

“Phew, soldier. It is hotter than the hells today. Can’t wait to go for a dip. In fact,” Karlach grinned, “can our leader be persuaded to stay here till tomorrow?”

“Well, it would certainly be good for the morale,” Shadowheart agreed, letting her pack drop with a thud. “I, for one, am not moving anywhere until I wash the viscera out of my hair.”

“Tsk, vanity is a vice, dear,” Astarion teased, moving to set up his tent.

“Says the vainest person in Faerûn and beyond,” Shadowheart shot back, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“Most certainly! But you see, it would be a sin against all creatures to deny them the opportunity to gaze in admiration upon my beauty. You agree my sweet, don’t you?” he grinned, looking at you fondly.

“Perhaps, although when it comes to looks, I’m afraid this lot certainly could dethrone you, Astarion. You are an attractive bunch,” you smile at your friends as they prepared to finally, finally enjoy the weather rather than suffer in the heat.

“Well, I don’t know about the rest, but I am just happy that we aren’t getting attacked for once. I am half-expecting something to jump out the bushes at any moment. We need to stay vigilant,” Wyll reminded everyone.

“Argh, monster hunters,” Astarion scoffed, “so paranoid.”

You didn’t hear Wyll’s reply, choosing to step into your tent and begin to shed the layers upon layers that you had on.

As you undressed, you scowled as you uncovered yet another scar. Spells healed cuts and wounds well enough, but unfortunately your body was covered in reminders of battles fought.

You tried not to think about. You had bigger, more urgent matters to attend do. But, as you thought of Astarion’s beautiful, unmarked face, you felt an ugly feeling rise as you thought of how a creature as perfect as your elf would think of you when the adventure would come to its inevitable end.

You knew he was fond of you. Knew that he was grateful for what you did for him. And maybe that would be enough for a while still. But you also were under no illusion about what would happen once it was no longer necessary for your merry little band to stay together. The end of the Absolute would probably mean the end of this alliance. They would all carry on their personal quests, fighting their battles, living their lives. And you would let them go. Let Astarion go too. Because you loved him and realised that there would be nothing worse than deny him the freedom that he so desperately fought for.

You heard splashing and laughter from outside the tent, making you smile. You didn’t feel like joining in, but perhaps you could go for a little swim once everyone settled in for the night. Yes, a midnight dip sounded heavenly.

Hours trickled by and finally everyone bid each other goodnight and soon all was still. You gathered your supplies and put on a thin cotton slip. It was not something that you would usually dare to venture out in, but everyone was clearly resting, so what was the harm?

Quietly, you slipped out and walked barefoot along the shore, careful to avoid the sharper rocks, and made your way away from camp.

As you were about put your things down, you felt the fine hairs on the back of your neck rise. Someone or something was watching you.

“Astarion, if you want to catch me unawares, then you shouldn’t have doused yourself in your signature scent. I could smell you before I could hear you,” you turned, your eyes locking with ruby ones.

“Oh, please! I was hardly being subtle,” he took a step towards you, “in fact, I was all but stomping my feet not to startle you.”

“Sure you were,” your lips quirked into a smile and you shivered, suddenly feeling very exposed as he levelled you with an intense, hungry look.

“Any particular reason for you waiting until now to go down to the river, hm? I thought you just couldn’t wait to cool down.”

You gripped the towel tighter, not wanting to talk about your insecurities. As far as everyone was concerned, you were the confident, daring leader. The one who threw yourself headfirst into the epicentre of any battle. And you would rather walk on red-hot coals than admit that you were self-conscious about your body to Astarion, out of all people. Being in a situationship with an impossibly gorgeous vampire did not mean that you felt worthy of being in a relationship with the said mind-numbingly beautiful vampire.

This wasn’t the most exposed you were, you all but shared a tent and were intimate on several occasions. But sex was about being lost in the moment, there was hopefully little opportunity for him to see the full extent of the damage done to your body over the years.

“Darling?”

Your eyes snapped to his fingers as he reached out to cradle your wet face in his hands.

Shit.

Were you crying? You so were not standing near naked in the middle of nowhere with your intoxicatingly beautiful lover and pathetically crying because you felt that you could never, ever hold a candle to him even on your best day. Except apparently, you were.

“I- I’m sorry. I guess the heat got to me. You should go back to camp.”

“I’m staying.”

“No,” you wanted to sound firm, but it came out far less certain than intended.

“Why?”

You pulled on the hem of your slip down subconsciously and looked away. Astarion was quick to catch on. His eyes softened and his hands fell to your shoulders.

“Darling, how many times do I have to tell you how beautiful you are for you to believe it? I can hardly keep away from you.”

“I know. But that’s hardly attraction. I am just, kind of, there. And you are grateful and, I suppose, maybe you-”

He scoffed. “Don’t insult me by insinuating that I have been forcing myself to come to your tent every night for the past several months. You were the first to tell me that I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do. And now, I very much want to do this.”

You saw a flash of a blade in your peripheral and then felt the fabric slide down as it fell to the ground. You dropped the folded towel you were still holding in a futile attempt to keep what was left of your clothes on you.

“Perhaps a more hands on demonstration of how I feel about you is in order. Time to be a man of deeds, rather than of words, so to speak.”

His lips found your neck as he threw the dagger on the ground and gripped your waist tight, pulling you closer to his body.

“But my scars-”

“Love, I don’t want to hear a single word out of your mouth unless it is my name, are we clear?”

“But-”

“You told me that my scars don’t define me. That I am more than just my past. It is baffling that you would show endless kindness to anyone but yourself. So let us not waste another moment. No more words.”

You nodded and your eyes fluttered closed, submitting to his eager hands.

“This is what happens when we have no opportunity for taking some time to ourselves. Yet another drawback of staying within earshot of everyone. We are overdue for a little private pool party, hm?” he said, lifting you up and carrying you to the river.

And then Astarion descended onto you, mapping your body with his lips, committing your sighs and moans to memory.

💖 Tag list 💖:

@ninty900, @ayselluna, @dajeong, @ravenswritingroom,

@misscrissfemmefatale,

@clazberryk, @anukulee,

@preciouslittlebhaalbae,

@sh3rl0ck, @mellowenthusiast2299,

@fleetstreet78, @starlight-rogue,

@obsessedwhyyes, @arzen9

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #augustarion #astarion #bg3 astarion #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion x reader #roguish cat

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inknopewetrust · 1 year ago

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𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎

summary: you are recruited to the spider society after conducting a batch of vigilante actions against the men who killed your husband, miguel and well... their leader isn’t like the man you remembered.

pairing: miguel o’hara x spider-woman!reader [wc: 12.7k]

warnings: language. this has got everything: backstory, meeting, conflict, angst, sadness, tie-ins with the film, (i hope you're reading this in a stefon voice), ethical dilemmas, vigilante shit, violence, romantic love strains, etc., etc.

Manhattan was rainy. It was always rainy.

But let’s do this again, shall we?

The skyline was high. Muddled variants of blues and reds, the colors that had painted your life for a decade now. It was silly to imagine a world of color beyond that–it's all you knew, you had nothing left.

And all of that nothing was the consequences of the dealings of a few bad men.

You breathed in deep. They were right there, right below your feet.

Their laughter in their indifference to life was vexing. It made your blood broil and bubble to the surface where you thought your eyes may have been red and your grip on the stone building was onerous.

In the distance, police sirens blared across the city where crime did not take a backseat because their most treasure hero was rogue. People were in trouble but you saw cessation of hope with every second that passed and those in charge did nothing to avenge your husband.

Husband. Nevertheless, what you had was gone and never coming home to you. The least you could do was try to find the justice to be brought by your own hands.

"Nah, man..." One of the men–a blonde, high-tech worker from the east side of town–shook his head. "We can't go there. They've got cameras all over the place! Ain't no way we are gettin' out free."

"Well then we go downtown and hit one alongside the river. We'll set up a boat and get us to Brooklyn before they can even suspect anyone was there," another collaborator said. Blondie shook his head determined.

"You think Spider-Girl isn't gonna be waitin' for us?" He scoffed, scuffing his shoes against the pavement. You perched straighter as you peered down. Spider-Woman. It was Spider-Woman.

“She got Mikey last week, Simon two days ago… we don’t have much left and if you think robbin’ fuckin’ Wall Street is gonna save us, you’re wrong.”

A sensible criminal with blood on his hands. Nice.

“Besides, they got the police captain on her ass and while they’re out lookin’ for her, they won’t sweat the small stuff,” blondie pulled a black ski mask from his jacket.

“It’s now or never,” he slipped it on and walked to the door of the bodega on the corner. He held out his hand as if his friend was actually a true friend and not a piece to his own networked puzzle.

Your stomach turned and the sight made your spine tingle.

Outside on the sidewalk of the street in the rain of New York City, the two men who were left of the dirty dozen walked into the grocer with no intention to buy anything.

It hadn’t dawned on you that as you dropped to the pavement, you weren’t wearing your suit or mask.

The hub was quiet.

In this slick world, everything was silver and green and the headquarters were no different — yet too different for Peter to know that he wasn’t from this universe and always felt out of place.

A picture on desk that wasn’t his grounded him to a separate reality; one of love and hope and a small child’s laughter.

Spider-Byte’s was typing away on the keys beside him while he tapped away on the table top.

Nothing exciting had happened since the… glitch. It had been a long nine months without the glue that had put him back together.

That was until Spider-Byte’s computer started beeping in a manic fashion. It was a sound neither of them had heard before. A high pitched siren blaring loudly from a machine the the left of Peter, a button glowing red and flashing.

“Uh,” Peter pointed to the button, “you got any clue what that’s about?”

Spider-Byte shook her head as she pulled up a database on a screen. Her tech hands glided over the keys like music, fluid and fast and working with a purpose.

“Some system Miguel’s got here,” she muttered and Peter attempted to cover the small speaker beside the button with his hand—it didn’t work.

“Where is he? He said he’d be right back and now we’re facing the end of the wor—“

“I doubt this is the end of the world, Peter!” Spider-Byte cut him off harshly. “Now would you be useful and go find Miguel?”

As the dutiful Spider-Person he was, Peter rushed out of the central lair and into the bright white halls of the headquarters. Everyone he passed he asked the same question:

“Hey! You’ve seen Miguel anywhere?”

“Yo! Seen the big man around?”

He slid up to a group of variant Julia Carpenters as they sipped on coffee in the cafeteria. Peter gave them a sly smirk, trying to be cool, and snapped his fingers.

“Have any of you seen the boss today? Looking fine as usual.”

Synchronized, the Julia’s pointed to the empanada station and sure as shit, there was Miguel, talking with the vender who yes, just happened to also be a Spider-Man.

“Miguel!” Peter screeched from the table and Miguel’s mind went soured. A violent jolt to his instincts as the new father came barreling toward him.

“¡At no…!” Miguel mumbled to himself as Peter skidded to a halt, dropping his hand on Miguel’s shoulder with a clunk.

“Hey, Boss! Whatcha… watcha doin’ out here?” Peter chuckled nervously and Miguel narrowed his eyes. “You said you’d be right back.”

“I did,” Miguel drawled. “I told you five minutes and it’s only been three, Peter.”

Peter laughed, glancing around the space as confused gazes began to pick up on the pebbles of sweat that dripped from his temple.

“Oh! You don’t say?”

“What’s so impo—“ Miguel began but never finished. Lyla appeared out of thin air with a casual urgency unlike Peter’s frantic one.

“We’ve got a doozy here for ya, boss.”

With Lyla, everything came to life smoothly. As she snapped her fingers, holograms of screens appeared like magic and on them, an un-masked, Spider-Woman was beating the shit out of thieves in a bodega.

“Jesus,” Peter whispered to himself.

“He doesn’t come here,” Miguel replied without a smile nor a chuckle but it took Peter back.

Miguel was watching the woman carefully. This Spider-Woman was not apart of the society and was actively doing what no Spider-Person should do. However, Miguel knew the actions. He felt them deep within his bones and the mistakes he had made as a newly minted Spider-Man 2099.

“Name’s Y/n L/n… a former nurse who got mixed up in a bad batch of blood for a transfusion. This isn’t the first time we’ve been alerted about her,” Lyla debriefed and Miguel snapped.

“What do you mean, ‘not the first time?’”

“These are a group of men she’s been targeting. It’s got to do with her,” Lyla cleared her throat that was nonexistent, “canon event.”

“We have to bring her in,” Miguel began walking away from Peter and Lyla followed. “I am NOT having some vigilante shit show up on this doorstep. Peter, get Jess, brief her and get a day pass to bring along.”

“Miguel,” Peter wagered, “what if this is associated with her canon? What if she’s just an anti-hero in her world?”

“She’s not,” Lyla piped back in. “She’s a hero, hero. And this isn’t part of her canon event. You’ve gotta know how grief moves people?”

Miguel grunted, Peter sighed.

“Get Jess. I’ll wait for you,” Miguel pushed on Peter’s shoulder to send him the other way.

Once alone and down the winding halls near the center of the headquarters, Lyla spoke again perched on Miguel’s shoulder.

“Miguel, I think there’s something you should know?”

“Know what, Lyla?” Miguel’s attitude had always been sour—she had been there from his creation and it never changed. He never truly smiled, he never truly laughed.

Miguel O’Hara was a tough nut to crack in a world full of people who lived off joy and laughter.

But she could feel the sensations radiating off of him. Those strident lines of afflictions that were masked by the way he covered his face. The tense nature of his shoulders as he walked further and further away but closer to a person he’d never thought to face again.

It felt like an intrusion all over again.

“You know what, Lyla?”

“I know what you’re thinking,” she defended, hologramed hand squeezing his shoulder. “But there are a million Peter’s and Gwen’s and MJ’s out there.”

“This isn’t her,” Miguel huffed. “She would never do this.”

“But she is, Miguel… and her canon event is you.”

“So a possible disruption?”

“It’s already happened,” Lyla explained, giving immediate explanation to your actions. Miguel did not know you in this way, but he could imagine why such feelings would manifest in violence.

“Good, good.”

Lyla scoffed, hopping to her feet. “I wouldn’t say it’s ‘good,’ boss. You died in her world. You were married in her world. I think she’s gonna wanna slap you for even existing in another timeline.”

“Why?” Miguel quirked a brow. “You know her or something? Keeping secrets from me now?”

To save her, Peter and Jess entered the lair with their bands glowing. Lyla simply shrugged and disappeared before they jumped into an Earth that would feel like they own but be nothing like it.

“Miguel," Jess was already shaking her head. Three months pregnant and still doing work, both Peter and Miguel would not be surprised if the child arrived wearing a suit of their own. "There's no anomaly there–there hasn't been a case in that world of a villain glitching from another."

"It's not about the bad guys," Miguel walked toward them to meet them in the middle. "What she's doing no Spider-Person has done before and what's the purpose of a society if we don't help one of our own?"

Lyla appeared between the three ready to open the portal.

"One last thing, folks!" She walked around casually glowing and pushed up her heart shaped glasses to her hairline. "She's not wearing her suit - so if you don't work fast, her identity will be known to the public and well! We just can't have that, can we?"

"Fantastic!" Peter complained as Miguel opened up the portal. "They are a bit suffocating really, if you asked me."

"Well we didn't," Miguel gruffed.

"What's her name? Just Spider-Woman?" Jess asked. "Should we just yell 'Hey! Spider-Woman! Stop it! You're actually a good person!'"

"Y/n. Her name is Y/n and don't freeze up when you see her, alright bud? Alright! See you all when you get back! Have fun!" Lyla waved, patting Miguel's leg as she walked the floor and disappeared once more.

Stretching out his legs, Peter did not miss the glare Miguel gave Lyla. His eyes cold and hardened; he knew so little of this leader but felt he knew so much. Miguel wasn't like the other Spider-People and well, he assumed perhaps you were not either.

Peter missed that he should have recognized your name.

He had been there with Miguel when the other world collapsed.

"Anything else you wanna tell us, boss?" He pushed. Miguel shook his head and slipped on his mask in more ways than one.

"She's disturbing her own canon by going rogue. I'm not going to let her destroy it because she's... upset."

Jess laughed and Miguel was indignant. "If she's a bad egg, she's a bad egg, Miguel. You can't save everyone."

"She's not a bad one!" Miguel scolded her, pointing out toward the darkness of the portal. "She's not supposed to do this and we need to fix this! Y/n is good!"

Peter smirked, wiggling his brows. He could sense Miguel's anger muddled with a nervous fear he never had. "Y/n, Miguel... first name basis already and we haven't even met her. You move fast, don't you?"

"Oh, you are so fucking annoying! She was my wife!"

Peter's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "Oh no! Not again, nope!"

"She doesn't exist in this world anymore, Peter," Earth 928, "and in another timeline, she's taken the mantle."

Jess jutted her hip out as the whirring of the portal loomed over them. "So you exist in her's too then? This won't be too confusing. It's just like Peter and MJ or Gwen in the thousands of realities that exist."

"Sure, sure," Miguel said. "But there are only three realities where she exists and," he cleared his throat as he looked down the portal, "this is the last one left."

"We shouldn't risk it. We can't collapse another world."

"We won't collapse it."

"How do you know that?" Peter questioned. There was always a level of selfishness when it came to those someone loved most.

"I just... I just know! You're not in charge here, Peter. If I don't have any hesitations right now, then neither can you."

"Well then," Peter strutted through the portal and turned around before his body was completely gone, "Let's go get us another Spidey then, yeah?"

And he saluted Miguel and Jess before jumping in.

"You've been monitoring her world?" Jess asked and Miguel looked to his feet. She had never seen him so bashful. Never one to make a scene of rash emotional actions, the causation would need

"I watch over many worlds."

"Yeah but come on," She dug, "this is a lot different than those worlds. You know her."

"I don't know her," Miguel defended himself and took a step further into the portal. "She isn't my wife. She's just a version of her that I don't know."

"Mhm," Jess hummed and drummed on her arm as they remained crossed from the moment Miguel said you were his wife. "Let's go meet her then. Then you can go on and on about how she's everything you remember but not the same."

And she walked through the portal before she disappeared to leave Miguel alone.

With clenched fists, Miguel breathed in deep and appeared in a reality he promised never to interfere with.

Inside of the bodega, the two men bartered with one another in the aisle. They looked to be two friends having a conversation in the middle of the shop but their intentions were not pure.

The bell above the door rang as you entered. Shoulders and hair wet from the rain, the cashier paid you no mind as he changed the station on his portable radio sat on the counter.

There were three civilians inside. One, the cashier who was oblivious and that is the sole reason these thugs decided to hit the bodega. An 'easy' target to get in and out. Two, a woman who was going grey at her temples. And three, a teenage kid with untied sneakers.

You ducked behind a shelf as you watched them in the aisle beside you. Between the chips and pretzels they concocted their idiotic plan in the presence of innocent people as they always did–it was how their bank robbery disaster went sideways six months ago.

When civilians are present, one of them will always try and become the hero. It is what Miguel did and now he's six feet under in a cold box.

"Excuse me, Miss," the older woman pointed to the bag of chips that your hand was resting on. She turned your attention away from the men. "Could I get one of those? I don't mean to be a–"

The men began to make their moves and you were distracted by the woman. She had kind eyes. Easy and familiar and a familial feeling to them as she waited patiently for you to move.

"Yes, yes," you replied as you got out of her way. "Sorry."

You didn't know why you apologized. Maybe you felt sorry she found herself in this bodega at an hour such as this.

"No worries, dear." The boy wasn't far from her either. He was shuffling through a freezer looking for a drink that wasn't there.

As she grabbed onto the bag, the radio dropped to the floor and turned off. It startled everyone inside and the cashier filled the silence with his desperate pleas.

"Oh my," his jaw chattered, "please... I don't have anything.... I-I-I I've gotta lot of student lo-o-oans and I really n-need this job."

He was staring into a silver barrel of a gun by the hands of the blonde who orchestrated everything. The older woman screeched behind you and the freezer door slammed shut with a "oh hell no!" following its thud.

You imagined the fear they felt was the same Miguel felt that day. Sitting there, hostage on the bank floor with a check to cash from his mother for his birthday.

The check was in evidence splattered with his blood.

In the neon light of the bodega, you made a choice to never let that happen again.

The cashier kept muttering whole-hearted pleas and the friend reached over the counter to open the register's drawer but it was locked.

"Unlock it!" Blondie ordered, shaking the gun closer and closer to the cashier who looked close to wetting himself. Behind you, the older woman crouched to the floor began praying to herself.

"Unlock it now, you son-of-a-bitch! You wanna end up on the floor? Open it!"

The cashier, who now you realized had a name badge on that read 'Max', began to reach for the keys that were hooked onto the counter.

Fear in his eyes, anticipation in theirs, anger in yours.

Anger always caused the tides to turn.

You reached your hand forward in a quick motion and the web that released itself from your wrist snatched the keys from the hook. Max flew backwards in a jolt of despair and the barrel was soon pointed at you.

"Oh you have got to be kidding!" Blondie screeched and fired a shot. He missed. It was sent right into a chip bag and exploded them all over the floor. You tossed the keys to the older woman and went for the gun.

Like child's play, the gun flew across the bodega and into your palm to be crushed like a piece of fruit. It was still hot from being fired and its pieces crumbled to the floor.

"What the fuck–" the woman stuttered.

"So," Blondie spoke and you hated his tone. Condescending and mighty. "Spider-Woman has a face..."

This friend pulled a bracelet from his pocket that lit up green. It glowed as brightly as the neon signs in the window blurred by the rain.

"She does," you replied. "And it will be the last face you see."

He laughed. They always did. It was an inescapable pattern of dealing with enemies who thought they would win. They never did, and they all thought the same way.

"Is that so? I would really hate to have the Bugle's headline to read: Spider-Woman killed innocent civilians at the 6th street Bodega." He let out a series of tisks with a shake of his head. "Who knew heroes could be so bad?"

He looked to his friend. "Herman..."

The friend, Herman, locked eyes on you and approached quickly and with a heavy hand charging with the green of the gauntlet. You could hearing the whirring and the loading of the power.

Instead of moving out of the way, you turned and pushed the older woman away. She slid on the slick floor into a corner with her bag of chips still in her hand.

The shock hit you with a staggering power. It blew you backwards into an ice freezer in the back of the store. As you landed on the ground, the woman whimpered in the corner and the boy caught your eye underneath a table by the restrooms.

He couldn't have been more than fifteen.

And he wasn't going to die today.

So, you got back on your feet and brushed off your jacket. The residual sting of the shock began to wear off and the men looked at you with a challenge.

"Who knew fighting the Spider would have been so easy?" Blondie laughed. "Where were you when we started? It would have been a much more fair fight."

"Busy," you spat.

"Huh," he hummed with a nod of his head. It was like he was trying to clock you–the way his eyes squinted and he tilted his head just a bit higher than it normally would have been. "Say, have we met before?"

"I'm sure I would remember. This is certainly a pleasurable encounter."

Blondie didn't let the words sting. You weren't a Spider who stung with a bite.

"I've seen your face before..."

"Maybe I just have one of those faces," you quirked a brow and Herman charged his gauntlet again. "Is this the worst you can do? Threaten a few innocents and have your friend do all the work? What happened to real criminals, huh?"

"Funny," he walked like a villain. Hands in his pockets, shoes scuffing the floor. "I've heard that one before." His mind raked the last time he heard that.

"Well it must say something about you then."

Herman went to shock again and you shot a web at him. He went soaring into a wall, head hitting it hard.

"I know!" He snapped his fingers like a lightbulb went off inside. Clarity now in a world filled of unclear ways. "I've seen your picture before."

"So what?" You matched his movements as he moved toward the center of the store. Every tight aisle blocked your view like a shutter.

"'Is this the worst you can do?' Someone told me that a short time ago. A man who tried to get in my way."

Miguel.

He was at the bank. He had his check ready, he was at the counter. Miguel had his wallet out and prepared.

He had a photo in his wallet.

"And I think you know how that turned out for him. But here's the thing, Spider-Woman... I don't hate the idea of having that same fate met you tonight. I imagine being so deep underneath the ground it gets a little lonely."

He stopped at the center, so did you.

"I think it's time for you to join him."

But all you saw was red.

There was an intense pulsing pressure inside of the bodega. You weren't sure how much time had passed as your fist dug deeper and deeper into the man who spoke too much and had little to act upon.

Whimpers of those left inside were deferred. The begging of his friend fell on deaf ears.

In the corner beside the three civilians–the woman, teen, and cashier–a glowing hexagonal portal opened to the dimension in which they lived. It hummed like a freezer and moved like something from the cinema they watched last year but instead of aliens appearing from the abyss, three people emerged no different than the way they walked.

They were people, human. Three Spider-People in a world that already had a Spider-Woman.

In their perspective the heroes were welcome. They were terrified and huddled within one another as one robber was webbed to the wall and the other was being beaten to a pulp by a woman with super-human strength.

"Peter," Miguel motioned to the civilians in the corner, "get 'em out of here."

The humble servant Peter was, he acted quickly. His nervous high-pitched voice soothing their fears with panic and disbelief that three masked people walked through a portal as though it was any other day.

"Get the man down, Jess," Miguel pointed to the guy webbed to the wall. Jess tipped her head to the side with an amused, sly grin on her face as he wept. Chick's a badass, she thought.

A violent one at the moment, albeit, but a badass nonetheless.

Fist hovered in the air, you went rigid as the sensations coursed through you. A striking feeling that felt more like a severe headache that came on too quickly, the immense pressure your body suddenly took on wasn't unfamiliar.

You had felt them before. It happened when something in the air changed. When something you knew could disappear or when time was suddenly running short. There was no term for it nor did any other person in this world feel what you felt.

The man below you gurgled. It was, just like the sensation, a sound that awoken something within you. It cleared the vision from red to reality and suddenly the harsh lighting of the bodega and the reflections of the neon signs on the linoleum filled in the edges.

"Shit," you stammered as your grip on his body lessened with every second.

Those consistent strums of radiating itching went from the top of your head to the base of your skull. A humming in the distance turned into a whirring sound that was too extraneous to come from a small place such as this one.

In an instant, the aluminum window covers were pulled from the ceiling by a pair of red, glowing lines reminiscent of webs. It shut out the outside world and the rain that had been pouring down for hours. The neon lights no longer reflected themselves on the flooring.

A hero, a villain... at some point those had all become the same to you.

The ideas that propelled them to act were all based in something that made them feel passionate enough to target an opposing force. When a hero turns to the fragmented middle of the road and balances the line of enemy and friend, the revelations of such shame grow from a deeper place of pain.

"Let him go."

The voice in your head sounded so much like Miguel.

And once your senses stopped going wild, your heart lept into your throat at the thought.

You buried him. You buried him six feet under.

The door to the bodega's alley opened and closed.

"Come on," the voice said again, "let him go and we can clean up this mess."

"Stop," you mumbled, shutting your eyes as your fists clenched the man's jacket harder. The one that had been in the air dropped to his chest. It was wet with the mixture of sweat and blood.

"Stop it please. Please stop it."

"Those civilians are gonna go get the police," his voice was low. It was that kind of voice that Miguel would use to talk you down from a nightmare–or maybe what this dimension had made you.

"And when they get here, what do you think they're gonna do when they see you sittin' over him?"

"Stop talking, stop talking, stop talking–" you repeated again and again. A thud in the distance set the blonde's friend on the floor and a web kept him in place once more.

"Boss they're gonna take her," another voice, not one you had ever head before filled the room and suddenly you were terrified that it wasn't voices you were hearing in your head. "We gotta bring her back with us."

"Alright! Three darling innocents saved again by, you guessed it," a far too cheerful voice added to the collection, "me."

You were curled into yourself over the blonde. Peter saw a woman, not dressed in a traditional uniform, use her powers for bad. But he saw the destruction of the man and knew that it wasn't from sheer wickedness.

He had seen you care so much before. It had to come from a place of caring.

"Well," he cleared his throat, "this is... a lot." And then he blanched.

"Jess," Miguel motioned to your static figure. He turned around and walked away as if to say 'you got it.'

There was an inflection in his voice that made Jess bristle. She hated the tone; removed and vacant. He was already living a humorless existence and the idea that this dimension made you act this way fractured himself in a new way.

"You heard him," Peter went scouring the aisles, plucking a bag of dried beef from a shelf to shove his mouth with. "You got this!" He gave a half-hearted thumbs up.

So, Jess had this.

She didn't crouch down. She didn't attempt to place a hand on your shoulder or help clean off your hands.

Jess kneeled on the other side of the man and your distant eyes met hers to know you weren't alone. You weren't alone in your pain and you certainly weren't alone in this world.

Your first thought was that she was pretty. Your second thought was that this woman was pregnant and that made you sad.

"Looks like you've gotten yourself in a bit of a mess," she spoke quietly but acted quickly. She placed her fingers on the pulse of the man.

He was breathing.

"Who are you?"

"Name's Jess."

"Jess," you repeated, "and Jess comes from...?"

She saw your lip tremble, eyes welling with tears. Jesus, she thought, she wasn't ready to be a mother if she couldn't deal with a thirty-something spider-woman who happened to be Miguel's wife in three different dimensions.

"Earth–404."

"Earth?"

"You felt that, right?" She motioned to her head, mimicking a tingling sensation with her fingertips. You nodded.

"Well, a lot of us have it... and I mean people like you and me... and I know it makes no sense, but if you can fight mutant enemies, maybe you can imagine there are other worlds out there."

"Like planets?" You sniffed and your hands began to shake. Everything bubbling to the surface of pain and anger. "You're from another planet?"

"Not really, but kinda, sure," she agreed for your sake.

"And your friends?"

"Different planets too."

You breathed in a shaking breath. Somewhere in the distance, you could hear the sirens begin to blare. It may have been 10 blocks or 6 blocks, but they were coming and they were coming in fast.

"Now," Jess cleared her throat, "it looks like you've gotten yourself in a little situation that needs a bit of help."

Jess was the most sympathetic she had ever been. The way your hands shook, your tiredness expanded beyond you. Maybe it was the fact she knew what made you go off the deep end that made her feel more thoughtful.

"They, um-"

"It's ok," Jess said and didn't let you finish. "We just need to get you somewhere safe, ok? Me and my friends can help you."

The sheen in your eyes was cloudy. Face wet and brushed with splatter of a man who was not yours, there was a lifeline to get you out of here and you had to take it.

You shook your head softly before it became more frantic. "I don't have anyone to go to... I don't have anyone."

"You do," her hand hovered over the man's body as Peter came back and lowered himself beside Jess. "You're gonna have a whole group behind you if you let us help."

"We'll get you all cleaned up and then introduce you. There is a whole universe of us out there."

"Us?"

"Spider-People?" He questioned, brows furrowed. Jess hadn't been explicit.

"A society," she drew back from Peter. "Like myself and Peter," indirectly introducing him, "and you and–" she stopped short.

"And you want me there?"

"Yeah," Peter said. "I mean, we could use some more badass Spider-Women around."

"But I–"

"Don't worry about all this, alright? We all have our moments."

Peter reached out his hand for you to take. There was a certain level of hesitancy you felt; perhaps it was a trick or maybe you were trapped in another nightmare. But Peter gave a small smile. He gave off a warmth that Jess had exuded and made you nearly forget that there were three voices and not their two.

You took Peter's hand.

The man was breathing, he would live even if he didn't deserve to. The sirens were no more than 3 blocks away.

"You gonna need one of these," Jess held out her hand to reveal a rubber bracelet.

"A day pass," she explained, "to help you adjust."

"Adjust?"

"It's better to ask fewer questions," Peter scrunched his face. "Less confusion for you."

You slipped on the bracelet.

"We good here?"

It was that voice again, the one from the back of your head.

"We gotta go. Time is ticking."

Except this voice wasn't the back of your head now that you've realized there were others in this bodega. As you rose from the floor and began walking as Jess led the way, the friend was passed out on the floor and a glowing hexagonal portal was lingering in the back of the store.

The sounds, the sensations... it meant something.

"All good, Boss. The robbers will live."

The man in the blue suit–from what you could tell–nodded and looked in your direction but said nothing. There was something in your body that was sending alarm bells to your mind but you ignored them.

They weren't like the sensations you had felt before. These were different in a way you couldn’t explain.

“Right let’s, ah,” he hesitated as his hands rested on his hips. You looked at him and he looked away. “Get moving then.”

“What’s going to happen when I go through that thing?” You pointed to the portal.

He didn’t look at you. He couldn’t look at you. All he saw was his wife who used to laugh at his corny jokes and rest her head on his shoulder in bed. He saw, in one dimension, the mother of his child and he saw a happy, generous nurse who loved her job.

But when he looked at you know, part of that image was shattered.

You were a little bit broken and a little bit worn down by the world you lived in. You had blood-splattered clothing and tear stained cheeks and it was enough to make his heart ache more than it already did.

“It will pop you out just where we want you,” Peter said as he took a step into the portal and his body began to glitch with the moving sphere around him. “Just walk in and it will do the rest.”

“And it’s safe?”

“So far, yeah!” And he ran off before he disappeared.

“I’ll see you there, alright?” Jess turned to you, then looked at Blue before giving a smile that was as flat as a dead man’s heart beat.

She walked in just as suave as she came.

Suddenly, it was just the two of you and it felt strange.

There were so many feelings lingering that you couldn’t grasp onto. The air was comfortable but hesitant; there was a barrier of distrust and burden, but one that itched to reach out a hand to help.

“You know,” you sniffed back a chuckle, “I half thought I was crazy for a second.”

“About what?” He asked. “The fact that you almost killed a man or the portals? Both are equally crazy.”

In any other circumstance you would have thought he was being sarcastic.

You shook your head. You were beginning to feel the weight of your actions.

“I thought I heard voices… a voice in my head.”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah,” you glanced at the portal.

A lull. The whirring of the portal, the sounds of police cars went mute when you looked back. Blue was looking at you but you couldn’t see his eyes. You couldn’t see a thing and indeed, you didn’t know his name.

Blue.

Miguel’s favorite color was blue.

“Thank you,” you said earnestly. “For coming here. I think I’m still a bit shell-shocked,” you laughed and he knew you were, “but maybe I was waiting for this… I don’t know.”

“It’s our job.”

Blue was done with the conversation at that point. He walked to the portal, his body glitching just like Peter and Jess’s did.

“Come on,” he motioned to you.

“What’s your name? The other two—they introduced themselves.”

“Spider-Man.”

“That’s not your name.”

He let out a huff. “You wanna be caught by the police? Fine.” He began walking again and the glitching became more erratic.

“Who’s to say you’re all not some group of aliens trying to kidnap me? At least the other two looked like me!”

His patience too was skating on thin ice.

“Come on, kid, let’s go.”

Maybe you weren’t crazy.

“What did you just say?”

He turned his body back to you and walked out of the portal. On the precipice of where you stood just beyond and where he did, he towered over you.

“I’m giving you a chance here. You come with me now or you’re dead here.”

“Kid. You said ‘kid.’ Why did you say that? Why did you say I was a kid?”

“I didn’t mean it like that, let’s go.” Like a rhythmic pattern, he turned back around.

“I’m not crazy. I know I’m not fucking crazy.” You sure as hell looked it. “Why did you say kid? Who told you to call me kid?”

“No one—“

A sudden banging on the door to the bodega caught the attention left in the room. Blondie started to gurgle, you stood steadfast, and Blue was agitated.

You took a step into the portal. Progress.

“Nobody calls me kid, no one. Why won’t you tell me your name? Who the hell are you people? Who are you?”

“We don’t have time for this!” The way he said your name that followed was one you had heard a million times.

It was just like Miguel used to say.

“Take off your mask.” You demanded and stepped further again.

“Take off your fucking mask or I’m stepping out of this goddamn thing and going to prison.”

The police began to feverishly hit the glass with their batons.

“Take it off,” you begged, “please. Please let me see you.”

And how could he say no to his wife who begged so mercilessly?

There was a time where you replayed that moment over and over in your mind.

You could still feel the way your breath caught in your chest. An immense wave of emptiness washed from you and filled with a jittery dismay that had no outlet.

His eyes were no different; the way his lips sat and his brow furrowed.

You felt the silent shed of tears mask your face before the glass breaking set Miguel moving toward you, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the portal.

His touch was the same.

And when he opened his mouth, what he sounded like was different from what he said and you were quick to realize that this Miguel was not your Miguel.

This Miguel despised people who lived happy lives.

This Miguel was mean and callous and demanding

This Miguel worked beyond reasonable hours and made being a Spider-Man his life’s purpose.

That was not your Miguel.

There was no making sense in that moment. You either believed it or you didn't and if you didn't, then they'd drop you back off in a world that had your face plastered on wanted posters and big screens in the middle of the city.

So you made sense of it and made some semblance of life within the four walls of the Spider Society headquarters with the Grade A asshole known as Miguel O'hara – not your husband.

The grief of that worked in waves. It came and went when life continued to move. It was strange to think that what brought you here, to this future, occurred one year ago.

Sat by a window looking out into an Earth that was not yours, you swung your legs as those thoughts crossed your mind. The chatter of a thousand Spider-people filled the space around you.

A thud sounded on the beam a few feet from you. Soft, nearly mute shoes tapping their way beside you. Green. The color of artificial grass in a children's playset, nearly blue.

"Watcha doing?"

There was never a moment of peace here. But you closed you eyes, sighed and a smile quirked on your lips.

"You daydreaming? I wonder what it's like out there..." Gwen Stacy joined the Spider-Society three months ago. "It looks so... contempo."

"Contempo? Where did you hear that?"

"I read you know," she tipped her head up in mock offense. "Kids do read when they're in school."

"Yeah, yeah," you brushed her off.

"So... what are you up to today? I was thinking we could monitor the dimensions with Jess and maybe catch a bad guy or two–" Gwen's fists mimicked boxing, "–and then Peter said he'd bring Mayday around–"

"Slow down," you chuckled. "I am up to nothing, thanks for asking and if that's what you want, sure."

Her eyes lit up when on most days they didn't.

"Really!?"

"Mhm, yeah, sure."

"Great!" Gwen got to her feet and wrung her hands. "Jess was in the control center so–"

"Control center?"

Gwen hummed, hands clasping behind her back comically.

"Yep! Just... chillin' by a screen. You know, she's got that baby on the way and all so we thought it'd be best to keep her inside for the time being and she doesn't like that but she said–" Gwen went on and on as the words came pouring out.

"Gwen."

"–that she would rather die than have to sit here and watch screens all day. I told Peter she would hate it and he agreed with me but sometimes he brings–"

"Gwen."

"–Mayday around just to cheer us up that we haven't gone on that many missions and its always well... you know... and we feel like we can't do anything to help out sometimes–"

"Gwen!" You shouted at her. She stopped her rambling; blue eyes wide and ears listening. "Just... take a breath, alright?"

"Sorry," she said sheepishly.

"You don't have to be sorry," a sharp breath steadied you. "I'm not going to go with you to the control room."

"Please," she begged. You imagined this is what it was like having a teenage daughter who wanted the most unattainable of things. "I promise it will be fine! Miguel's not even there so you don't have to worry about what he said last time!"

"That was three days ago, Gwen!"

"So what!?"

The last time was three days ago.

Ever since you arrived, it had been nothing but anger and hostility pushed toward you from him but you were not easy on him either. It was hard facing a piece of your past that had every connection but no foundation at the same time.

Earth 9591 was in ruins and the screens replayed the horrors of the people over and over. It was desolate. Earth was crumbling in on itself and a medieval Rhino had found itself in the mess as Earth 9591 Peter was on his last leg.

According to Miguel, this Peter was supposed to experience this.

"We can't just let him die, Miguel," you argued as he stood up on his platform above you and Peter. "There is a chance he could live and we're reducing him to nothing because of his goddamn canon?"

"We can't mess with it, you know that." Miguel's patience was running thin. "Every time we can't interfere you come here with the same argument and the answer is always no. It will always be no."

"Why?" You pushed. Sometimes just seeing his face now made you mad. The questions of why this Miguel got to live when your's didn't was something that constantly simmered within you.

"You plucked me from my Earth and brought me here so why can't we do that for him? He'd be healthy and safe here."

"This is supposed to happen to him," he huffed your name as he turned back to the screens. "Not every battle is going to be one that Spider-Man wins and if we mess with it, we threaten that whole dimension."

"Well it sure as hell looks like it's in a bit of trouble, boss," Peter let out a nervous chuckle.

"And so it is."

"But what of Rhino, hm?" He hated the way you rose your eyebrows in question. Every version of you did that. "That's not supposed to be his fate."

"One less villain we have to worry about."

You let out a frustrated groan. "When did you become so heartless? We save people here, Miguel. We don't let them suffer."

"I'm not heartless. I'm being realistic and the fact is that 9591 Peter isn't gonna live and his world will become uninhabitable. That is part of his canon, end of story."

"So my canon said to bring me here?" You asked, hands on your hips. Peter inched backwards from you because he could feel the rumblings of the volcano bubbling.

"Take me from my home and bring me here for what? To have another person go along with every decision you make? Newsflash, Miguel, that's not going to happen."

"Oh, really?" He laughed, sarcastically, and looked down at you from above.

"Yes, really. Maybe this canon bullshit is just that, bullshit. Maybe you made a mistake–"

"I didn't make a mistake," he defended loudly. "I am not letting other worlds get destroyed because of stupid decisions."

"So it's only a stupid decision when it's a reality that we both exist in?"

If Peter hadn't known any better this would have sounded like a fight between a married couple.

"That's not what I said," Miguel brought his hand to the bridge of his nose and squeezed. "We can't go around making those same mistakes. I am not putting any other lives in danger."

"But you did it when it benefitted you."

Miguel mumbled to himself up there. You couldn't hear. Peter took more steps back and Spider-Byte ducked behind her consul. Miguel's brown mop of hair slicked back with the motion of his hand.

"Well you would've liked that world too."

"I liked the one I was from."

God, some days he really disliked you.

At the same time, when Miguel looked down at you, he saw the wife he knew in a different capacity and it sent his mind spiraling. He didn't sleep, he barely took the time to care for himself because all he could think about was the dimensions of happiness that you both had and the one you've both found yourselves in now.

He hated that he loved the body of the woman he knew but couldn't fully trust the version of you that existed now.

"We're not going."

"Miguel,"

He lept from the platform and onto the level you stood on. Still as large as before, his shadow filled your space before he did and for some ungodly reason, the presence of this Miguel made your heart pump furiously as your husband had.

Miguel had that look in his eyes that made them appear red. Fist clenched at his sides and that same lingering sadness emitting from his person.

"Not another word."

He hated the challenge you took from him.

"Why is it ok that you took me from my dimension? To serve some sick purpose of remembering your wife?" You spat at him.

You were just like her... just a little more broken.

"I'm not her, Miguel."

"You think I don't know that?" His voice was nearly caught in his throat. "You think I don't know that you're not her? It's pretty goddamn obvious you're not her."

"Oh yeah?" Your voice was no different.

You hated when you fought with Miguel in your dimension and that didn't change in this one.

Peter thought he should look away.

"Well she's not here, is she?"

Miguel stared at you. He couldn't help the way his eyes moved over your face. He saw the same eyes, nose, and lips. You were his wife just as he was your husband.

"No," he said as a ghostly whisper, "she's not."

"And maybe I'm not like her but you're not like my Miguel either... so don't make this fall on me. I didn't ask to come here."

"You're here now," Miguel's voice was devoid of feeling. "So get used to the rules. We're not going."

And he stalked off with Peter following on his tail.

If you closed your eyes you could see fragments of Miguel. Now, however, this Miguel was beginning to eclipse those memories.

"Shit..." Spider-Byte snickered from behind her monitor. Her blue glow filling your vision as you looked at her. "I wouldn't take that, mama. I'd kick his ass."

Miguel wasn't there. He was off saving a dimension because canon was all that mattered and Jess was monitoring that other universes just as Gwen had said.

It was a relief.

So, you sat back and watched as Jess and Gwen flipped through the different footage from the dimensions that either lit up red for an anomaly or maintained green for a perfect balance.

Jess flipped through them quickly. Every world passing by your face within a second of seeing the light on the panel turn green. The few instances of red sent her pressing on a communication button before Gwen could complain that she wanted to go out and fight.

Gwen lingered on worlds. She looked at the images as though she wished to be a part of them.

She hesitated moving on from a boy in a black suit just a second too long.

"Gwen?" You asked her as her hand hovered over the button. She was intently looking at him as he moved about the fire escape.

"Gwen?" You reached out a hand to shake her shoulder. She bristled out of her spell and pressed the button before you could ask any questions.

It would be several months later that you'd learn that the boy was the source of it all.

Miles Morales had heard a million versions of the same story.

It all began with a name and that named person being bit by a radioactive spider that magically gave them powers and they used them to save the world, or fight street crime, or kill mice (in the case of that Spider-Cat he saw in the lobby).

They were all the friendly, neighborhood hero that the world needed.

Until the collider messed with their functions and required a society such as this to take on a much larger purpose.

And Miles was taken aback.

He had never felt so seen sans the moment he walked through the doors of the complex. Every turn he made, a new Spider-Person was uniquely fit into their world so different than his own.

Within the chamber of villains from other dimensions, he saw a Spider-Woman without a suit.

"So people like, live here?" Miles asked Gwen who shrugged.

"Some do. We can stay for as long as we like and then go back to our dimensions when we need to."

"And suits are optional?"

Hobie turned around and gave Miles as questionable gaze.

"A uniform is binding, man," he told Miles. "Use what makes you comfortable."

Gwen nearly galloped ahead to the Spider-Woman with a digital portfolio. Miles saw the way Gwen's eyes lit up just as they did when they saw each other again.

Hobie was the one to introduce you. Your named rolled off his tongue like butter–so casual and cool in a way Miles did not believe he ever could be.

"She lives here," He explained. "Can't really go back to her dimension so she does a lot of cataloguing. The main man doesn't want her out of missions... you know," Hobie spun his finger near his forehead, "little crazy that one."

"I'm not crazy, Hobie," you called out as Gwen pointed toward your group.

"No, you're right," he corrected himself. "He's the crazy one."

"That's more like it," you smiled and Miles felt a boyish crush form in his stomach. "Hi Miles. I've heard a lot about you."

You did. Gwen had been giddy in the way she reminisced about her time with Miles. Even Peter put in his two-cents about the way he trained him and it went incredibly poorly for the greater part of their journey together.

You missed a good chunk of time by not being present when they all converged on the same dimension. It may have saved you from yourself.

"Hi," he waved back nervously.

The party kept walking with your addition. Beyond the orange cells of villains captured and waiting to be returned home, a center of technology he could dream of appeared in front of him.

It was just a tour.

Lyla appeared beside you.

"Miguel's hangry," she complained as she looked at her non-existent nail-beds.

"He's probably just angry."

"No," she shook her bob, "it's the hangry kind. You should have the kid pick up something for him... a gift."

"Gift," you chuckled. Miles looked so green. He was amazed by the technology of the go-home-machine that you weren't sure how he would react when he reached the hub. Walking through all of the test technology before going to Miguel's station... he'd be on cloud nine.

"He'll be expecting the party soon."

"I'll stay behind."

You were certain Miguel would be able to hear this conversation but Lyla had a mind of her own–she was artificial after all.

"You should come with. Miles could use your perspectives."

"What perspectives?" This was the longest conversation you had ever held with her. "Oh, Miles," you mimicked, "don't beat criminals to a pulp... um, don't let your anger get the best of you... don't kill people.... yeah, good advice."

"I meant a motherly figure here."

"I'm not a mother, Lyla. Besides, he's got Jess for that."

Lyla glitched to the other side of you. "Jess hasn't taken to him like she did you and Gwen."

"He's got Peter."

"But he could use you too."

You gave a tight-lipped hum.

"Or," she countered, "maybe you need someone like him. It's always strange what effect kids have on adults... makes them... soft or something. You should see the videos of Miguel!" She laughed, you didn't.

"He liked to play soccer with her."

Her. In another dimension, you had a daughter.

"Why are you telling me this?" You asked her.

She waved her hand dissuasively. "Miguel's not going to, so I might as well."

The party began to make their exit. Down to the liar they went and as they walked, Lyla floated in the air beside you. Miles kept peaking back like a child on a holiday.

"Miles," you called out to him.

"Yes?" He turned around quickly and at attention. He was a cute kid. So nervous and out of his element. If it weren't for his merry misfit group of friends, Miguel was sure to eat him alive.

"Do you have a question or is there a reason you keep looking at me?"

He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. Miles then pointed to Lyla.

"Is she a Spider-Person too?"

"No," you told him and Lyla glitched to him. "An A.I. that Miguel created. She knows all."

"She flatters me," Lyla murmured back a smile.

Miles turned back around and continued on with his conversation that bounced between Gwen and Hobie. Lyla disappeared from the hallway as the sounds of old, tinkered experiments and Miles' struggles painted a picture of a much different boy in your mind.

While his struggles were not yours and you'd never understand them completely, his want to belong struck a chord with you in a way it did with Gwen.

There was a family that could be built here if the realities of pain could be ignored.

Above on his floating platform, Miguel slowly descended as Miles gaped in a slight awe. Yes, it was dramatic. Yes, it was unnecessary and it made you roll your eyes.

Hobie stuck to the wall in the back. Gwen took Miles to the edge and you leaned up against a pillar not far from Hobie.

"Miguel O'Hara," Gwen introduced, "meet Miles Morales."

And then Miles butchered his introduction with cheer. He offered up those empanadas which Miguel slipped right into the trash.

And like Gwen, he fumbled his words by rambling about how to catch Spot.

Miguel threw the trash can at them both only for Hobie to sneak the empanada out of the box and into his hand without blinking.

And then everything spiraled out of control.

Miguel's meter began to spike an angry red as the frantic nature of his focus within this world had been protecting the multi-verse. Here, in this room, Miles was the supposed source of it.

If it wasn't for Miles, many of his problems wouldn't exist and he'd be grateful but he can't be, simply because they are truly real.

"Hey Miguel!" Peter's voice broke through the silent seconds. Miles perked up at the sound. "Come on, go easy on the kid. He had a terrible teacher. He had no chance."

"Peter!"

The two hugged like old friends.

"Miles!" Peter put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't be afraid of my friend Miguel. He just looks scary. He's got no bite."

He had seen it once. He chose to ignore it.

So he went on with his little break up of Miguel's serious moment and you watched unfold from the shadows, the orange glow of your tablet keeping you busy while Mayday swung around the room and Miles exasperatedly came to terms with Peter being a father.

"-You always say the 'fate of the multiverse' and my brain dies."

You chuckled to yourself, glancing up at Peter as he circled Miguel. Miguel was holding Mayday like he had never held a child in his life.

That was the kind of thing your Miguel did.

"You guys smell that?" Peter sniffed into the air. He swiftly picked up Mayday and swung right by Miles and Gwen and straight to you.

"You smell that right?" He held her up high. Yes, yes you did smell that.

"That is entirely your problem, Peter."

"Miles–" Miguel caught their attention again. "–You disrupted a canon event."

"Canon event?"

"The kid wasn't thinking," Peter interjected. He held onto Mayday as you strung a web for her to bounce on. Miguel was half torn between the conversation he tried to be stern about and the watching you weave a web for that little girl.

"That's not how he works."

"That's insulting," Miles commented.

Hobie got up from the floor to stand next to you. He caught Mayday in the air, saluting her with two fingers.

"Taking a crap on the establishment... I salute you."

"What are you upset about?" Miles furrowed his brows as Miguel stepped off the platform and walked towards him. The boy would be amiss if he hadn't felt his stomach drop to his feet in the menacing way Miguel O'Hara walked.

"When isn't he upset about something?" You murmured from the back.

"I saved those people."

Ah, yes. Pavitr's dimension. Miguel had been in the go-home-department when it happened.

"And that's the problem," Miguel clarified. "Lyla, do the thing."

As she always did, Lyla appeared with a semi-oblivious nature.

"Huh? What thing?"

"The thing... what do you mean 'what thing?' The information explaining thing!"

She gave a casual 'ok' and the room changed before you.

You had never seen everything before.

Jess had talked about it, Peter mentioned what it looked like, and a few others who had seen it claimed it left them more confused than anything.

It was a bright blue tree, in a sense. Woven with a variation of color that reminded you of the sea at mid-day and the sky at night, everything was a timeline of complete facts of the world. Every moment of every person's lives were tied to this one branch of 'everything.'

Expansive and high, the tree of everything bloomed over your heads and Miles was the one trying to come to terms with the sincerity of it. However, just as he had begun to grasp the idea of everything being resembled by a tree with branches that diverged from its timeline, the room changed to a red web.

Hundreds and hundreds of webs interconnected by lines that captured the very lives in that room. All of them facing convergence by multiple lifelines to different events, canons, and realities that make up a person's existence in the, as he had coined, the Spider-Verse.

"The lines... where the nodes converge?" Miles asked aloud.

"They are the canon."

Every web around him had different nodes. Some had more than others, some had barely any. He noticed a cluster of three big webs with few canon nodes.

"Their chapters apart of every Spider's story, every time. Some good, some bad... some very bad."

Miguel pulled down a cluster to showcase the very bad. You had a sinking feeling somewhere along the line the 'very bad' also included you.

A row of Spider-People emerged in the same position. He saw Peter, he saw Gwen, he recognized you, and then himself leaning over the body of a loved one who perished too soon.

Like a story, Miguel walked through varied canon events that were to occur in many Spider stories. A police captain, a lover, the event that turns someone into a hero, the struggles of the hero.

Miles looked at each of you as a fragment of your past appeared before him.

"That's how the story is supposed to go. Canon events are the connections that bind our lives together and those connections can be broken that why anomalies are so dangerous. Inspector Singh's death was a canon event."

A police captain.

"You weren't supposed to be there."

Even though you weren't there, you saw it unfold from the safety of Lyla's simulation. People running, a bridge nearly collapsing.

"And you weren't supposed to save him. That's why Gwen tried to stop you."

You could see the gears in his brain turning. He was hurt, misguided in his efforts to be a good Spider-Man because it was suddenly becoming a conflict for him. Miles tried to be good. He tried to save people and even doing so, he seemed to mess up.

It was so different from the Spider-Woman you used to be.

"I thought you were trying to save me," Miles admitted to Gwen who had turned her back from him. She kept her eyes to the ground.

"I was. I-I was doing both," she took a chance to gaze back at him only to see the hurt.

She was just doing her job.

"And now, Miles," Miguel sighed and he walked around the space. He planted his feet beside you and Miles took a glance and couldn't tell who was friend or foe.

He didn't know where he stood himself.

"Because you changed the story, Pavitr's dimension is unraveling. If we're lucky, we can stop it. We haven't always been lucky."

Miguel looked at you. He looked at you with a sheen in his eyes that you'd hadn't see from this version of him. For once, he looked as sad as he felt on the inside.

And for once, he wasn't fighting with you about what was right or wrong in that moment.

"That wasn't me!" Miles defended. "That was the Spot."

"It's what happens when you break canon."

"How do you know?"

"Because I broke it once myself."

There was a part of you that wanted out. You wanted out right that second because you had seen enough. You had seen the destruction, had been part of some destruction, and seeing Miguel's world crumble animatedly in front of you wasn't something you wanted. But your feet stuck to the floor. Planted, like mud, waiting to be freed.

It was your story too and you didn't even know what happened.

"I found another world where I had a family. Where I was happy."

In the web, the cluster of three was connected by one single strand to a much larger web with varied canon events. Whatever this was, Miles imagined, was Miguel's universe.

"At least a version of me was. And that version of myself was killed."

This time trying to catch a thief who stole a woman's purse. Not a bank robbery.

"So I replaced him. I thought it was harmless."

You looked away at the scenes. Miguel with her. A little brown haired girl who loved soccer and he did her homework at the kitchen table with her. A father who looked adoringly at a daughter who was joyous and knew no pain.

"But I was wrong."

Then the world began to collapse. In his arms, the girl disappeared as though she had never existed.

"Isn't that right, Peter?"

Your head shot up towards Peter who looked away from you. He had seen you before, in a different reality where you too were happy with the life you lived and where you were happy with a daughter who loved Miguel too.

"Peter?" You gave a weak call to him. He shut his eyes tightly. "Peter, you knew?"

Miles felt the way you felt. A shell of a hero without a purpose with people who made very choice feel like a mistake.

You walked up to Peter. Miles saw the white-knuckle grip you had on the pink robe. This was more than just friends making choices feel like a mistake.

"You knew me?"

Miles glanced back at the web. The three small webs that had little to them stuck out like a bouquet of flowers. Each their own small story.

“Whose is that?” Miles gestured as he tried to ignore the way you prodded at Peter for answers. Perhaps Miles already knew that Miguel had made this more complicated than it needed to be.

He had already destroyed one reality for happiness. Miles imagined that this man could ruin many more if it meant one more second of living.

“These ones?” Miguel pointed to the web of three.

You knew it was yours without even realizing it.

“That’s mine," you breathed in deep.

Even though you hadn't gotten along in this world, Miguel felt the weight of his secrecy fall heavily onto his shoulders.

“You see, Miles,” Miguel started, “there are infinite dimensions were we exist. All these webs here,” he pointed to the connecting lines that reappeared of many lives, “are realities were someone like you may exist. Maybe not as Spider-Man but as something.”

Miguel looked to you and for the first time since he met you in your reality, he saw the woman he fell in love with.

“And her dimensions look a bit different.”

“Why?” Miles questioned. “Why don’t ours look like that?”

“Because you can exist in infinite realities, Miles,” you told him in a voice that reminded him of his mother telling him a relative died. “And I can’t.”

“There is only three of her that exist in our… Spider-Verse, as you put it,” Miguel stated. “And one of them collapsed.”

In a hologram, he saw you in the world they had all just witnessed disappear from reality. Miles saw you running and running and he could see the destination, Miguel and that child, so close yet too far away.

And then there was nothing.

“Oh,” Miles felt sadness creep within him. Gwen wanted to comfort both you and Miles but couldn’t muster it in front of Miguel.

Peter wasn't sure what to do.

One strand of three disappeared.

“And in the other, she’s not here anymore.”

"What dimension is that?"

Miguel sighed. Hands on his hips, he met Miles' intense stare instead of yours.

"This one."

“So there is only me now,” you have a half-hearted smile.

“I thought you said you were the only Spider-Man in this dimension?” Miles asked Miguel as he tried to make sense of this world he found himself in.

“I am,” Miguel clarified. “She’s not from this dimension. Her… alternate self isn’t here anymore.”

He recalled the images of all the Peter’s and Gwen’s and Jessica’s mourning their canon disasters. Loved ones, friends, lovers.

The second strand of three disappeared.

“Does that mean if you…?”

You nodded your head at Miles. Peter put his hand on your shoulder at the admission.

Miguel focused on that hand. He saw the comfort, he saw the friendly love and knew he had wasted time. He had wasted months being angry at you when you weren’t the cause of it.

He had watched over your dimension to keep you safe while you struggled and in his own pain, he made the unity between you strained and unrealistic.

But he also knew the greater purpose.

“I guess I just have to pick the right side.”

You tried to bring levity.

You didn’t realize that you’d be picking Miles and your friends or Miguel and the person you knew because if you didn't you'd lose everything.

And you needed to save yourself in one dimension you still existed in.

Earth 42.

A/N: this isn’t proofed yet. I can totally see a million different sequels to dive deeper into the relationship between reader and Miguel.

As always, comments and reblogs are the best feedback a writer can ask for. I love reading any comments you all leave 🥺. Thank you so much for reading.

Tags:

@csmt-m @er4tous @gracielou0518

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara imagine #fanficition #x reader #x fem reader #fanfic #x female reader #x female y/n #across the spiderverse #oscar isaac

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your-local-crypt1d · 4 months ago

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I did WRA headcanons, so now it's time for seablings headcanons

(Mostly worldbuilding headcanons around them)

The appearance you often associate with the Ocean Queen and Codfather are actually their “mortal forms” they use not to freak everyone out. The twos “true forms” are a lot more like biblically accurate angels, they took after their parents in the “ancient lovecraftian horror” department.

Jimmys’ magic is unstable and heavily effected by his emotions, though, so he uses the Codfather mask to keep his form in check. That’s why he was so desperate to get the head back when stolen, he was scared his body would change out of his control and scare someone (or if he’s anything like Cthulhu, drive them insane just by his appearance alone).

Jimmy and Lizzies’ mortal forms are slightly off from regular merfolk, being that they are ridiculously tall for their kind. Lizzie is 11 feet tall and Jimmy is around 7’10”, whereas most merfolk tend to max out at 7 feet. They also have some other powers that only gods and God-blessed people have, like sensing each other and being more in tune with magic than mortals are.

Jimmy and Lizzies’ parents are an ancient sea monster known simply as the Leviathan and the primordial goddess of all water. Lizzie was birthed from sea foam (à la Aphrodite) thousands of years ago as the goddess of saltwater and the Queen of the oceans. She took after her mother in being a blue axolotl.

Lizzie has been on and off as the Ocean empires queen since then; the ocean levels naturally rise and fall like what happened during the rapture and her annual memory loss usually coincides with that, so the citizens of her empire have plans put in place (an elected regent to take over) to handle their goddesses regular disappearances.

Some time after Lizzies’ birth, the leviathan laid a clutch of eggs in one of the many nurseries outside the ocean empire. Lizzie was supposed to have many little siblings, each a demi-god to rule over different bodies of water inland like ponds, rivers, and inland seas. Unfortunately, though, demigods can die.

The salmon, who had been feuding with the cod merfolk for a long time now prompting the making of new demigods, got to the eggs first and massacred all the babies. Lizzies’ grief at her fathers final clutch not surviving was so powerful, the oceans were in a perpetual category 5 storm for months. It caused tsunamis to hit coastal towns, boat travel was impossible, and the salmon living in the ocean who survived were all swept inland by the storm.

Each empire that had land near the coast at the time of this has their own name for it in their own languages, but all basically translate to "the great storm" or "terrible hurricane."

We all know Jimmy survived, though. Somehow, against all odds, he swam his way home to Lizzie. Her relief and love for her little seabling caused the storms to calm and perfect waters across the empires to last for decades after, opening up new trade routes to landfolk empires like Mezalea.

Jimmy takes after their father in being more fish-like than axolotl (salamander)

After hatching, baby merfolk (or “tadpoles”) follow the scent of their mothers to find their way home. The ocean empire has historically often been invaded by Drowned, landfolk, rogue guardians, etc, so they lay their eggs outside the empire in hidden nurseries, then let the hatched tadpoles find their way home as a ritual, believing if they survive, their goddess has chosen them to live with her children and the others to stay with her at the bottom of the sea.

For Jimmy, he followed Lizzies' smell instead since their actual mother is in hibernation with the other old gods.

Being the only surviving member of the clutch, Jimmy was dubbed the demigod of freshwater and the swamps, later establishing the codlands as a sanctuary for the last remaining cod merfolk, both sides of the war suffering massive losses.

The Codlands also have a system put in place for when Jimmy loses his memories that's a bit more complicated than their ocean cousins. The Codfather is an electoral office like a president, so while Jimmy is gone they elect a Codboy to replace him, and when he returns it doesn't always mean he returns with his memories so they hold this “fake” election and pretend everyone chose Jimmy. It's not really pretend since the Codfather is loved by his people, but the whole "we've decided you should be our new Codfather" is pretend as a way to prompt his memories to return faster.

Oceanic, the language of all merfolk, is a language often only learnt by merfolk and mer-adjacent people, as their vocal cords can make a variety of more sounds than land-dwellers, along with the language mixing body language and movement with those sounds like from their tails and fins. Despite this, Joel makes an attempt for his cool fish wife. He settles with learning the codish dialect as it is a little easier on land folk, since the cod spend more time on land interacting with them, thus their dialect adapting to compensate.

Merfolk have two sets of eyelids, the usual ones we humans have that open and close up and down, distributing moisture across our eyes, and a second translucent set that slides inward from the outside of each eye and acts like built-in goggles. The way eyes need to function to see on land is very different to how they work to see underwater. unfortunately, merfolk can't have both so they went the way of the crocodile with the two sets of eyelids.

They also went the way of the crocodile in that merfolk have loads of sharp teeth that they can perpetually lose, as a new tooth will grow in to replace it, they don't only have two sets of teeth like humans.

All merfolk also have “siren songs”, a subset of verbal spells only merfolk can cast by singing. Depending on the tune, it can do different things like healing, helping the listener sleep, sharing memories between the singer and listener, and much more. It's very volatile and dangerous magic though, it takes many years to control it around other merfolk let alone land dwellers who are much more susceptible to the foreign magic (the same way people who aren't vaccinated are affected by those diseases worse compared to those with immunity)

The song gets its name because some merfolk, known as sirens by human sailors, would use their songs the way sirens in myth would. Those “sirens” aren't actually any different from other merfolk though, just malicious in nature.

Due to this, music is highly regarded in both empires. The Musical Lizzie wrote in real life is canon to me, in that the Ocean Regent worked with the Codboy and some refugee bards from other empires to make the musical as both to honour their gods and as a cautionary tale of land dweller hubris (that's the way they spun the story at least).

Pearls (the stones) and clam shells are highly regarded in the ocean empire and codlands. Pearls are usually worn by the upper class and given as courting gifts to romantic partners or to family members depending on the style. Whereas, clam shells are exclusive for the royal family and priests of the primordial water goddess, due to religious reasons.

Merfolk having webbing between their fingers makes wearing rings nearly impossible, so instead they use necklaces – specifically pearl chokers – as their wedding jewellery. Joel proudly sports his own pearl choker from Lizzie, along with a clamshell in the centre due to being the ocean queens consort. Concurrently, bracelets and armbands are given to family. Jimmy has a cobalt wire armband with a pearl pendant.

Tadpoles who have just hatched from their egg and returned home get a mix of a baby shower and naming ceremony, part of this celebration of life is gifts from family like pearls as previously mentioned and nautilus shells. Nautilus shells are given to children as a symbol of longevity and health since they have been thriving in this world for 480 million years, which merfolk with their long lifespans (similar to elves) would be aware of.

Speaking of elves, back when Alinar was alive and just beginning his training with Aoer, the stag god had spoken to Lizzie for an alliance to fight the corruption. During this, Alinar met Jimmy and had a very brief crush on each other before Alinar left to fight Cohnal and Jimmy lost his memories soon after for a few decades, by the time the Codfather returned, Alinar was long gone. Credit to this fanfic for that idea.

Cod, like other species of fish, can change their sex if needed. I think gender is extremely fluid to Merfolk, they adopted the ideas of “male” and “female” from humans and that's it, no one cares how you present or what pronouns you prefer to use. Meeting a merfolk as one sex then seeing them change to intersex or another is very common. Jimmy is Intersex. Sometimes same-sex couples temporarily switch just to have their own eggs and then switch back. There just isn't much importance put on gender to merfolk.

And, finally, because merfolk lay eggs and are cold-blooded, thus not mammals, no merfolk would have nipples 👍

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will80sbyers · 6 months ago

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Do you still have the list of movies that inspired ST4? I had a picture of it but I lost it and I haven't been able to find it since. Please and thank you in advance.

Yep!

Long post warning lol

300

2001: A Space Odyssey

47 Meters Down: Uncaged

12 Monkeys

28 Days Later

13th Warrior

Ace Ventura: Pet Detective

Ace Ventura: When Nature Calls

Altered States

Amelie

American Sniper

Analyze This

Annihilation

Aristocats

Armageddon

Assassins Creed

Avengers: Age of Ultron

Arrival

Almost Famous

Batman Begins

Batman V. Superman

Basket Case

Battle at Big Rock

Beauty and the Beast

Beetlejuice

Behind Enemy Lines

Beverly Hills Cop

Bill and Ted’s Bogus Journey

Billy Madison

Black Cauldron

Black Swan

Boondock Saints

Borat

Bram Stoker’s Dracula

Burn After Reading

Broken Arrow

Blade Runner

C.H.U.D

Con Air

Cast Away

Congo

Constantine

Children of Men

Cabin in the Woods

Crank

Casablanca

Carrie

Crimson Tide

Clueless

Dukes of Hazzard

Don’t Breathe

Death to Smoochy

Doom

Dark Knight

Dogma

Deep Blue Sea

Dreamcatcher

Drop Dead Fred

Die Hard

Die Hard 2

Die Hard 3

Don’s Plum

Dances with Wolves

Dumb and Dumber

Edward Scissorhands

Enter the Void

Ex Machina

Event Horizon

Emma (2020)

Forrest Gump

Fargo

Fisher King

Full Metal Jacket

Ferris Bueller

Fallen

Fugitive

Ghost

Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

Ghostbusters

Good Fellas

Girl Interrupted

Godzilla: King of the Monsters

Get Out

Good Will Hunting

Hackers

High Fidelity

Hellraiser 1

Hellraiser 2

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets

Hidden

High School Musical

Hurt Locker

Heat

Hunger Games

Highlander

Hell or High Water

Home Alone

I am Legend

It’s a Wonderful Life

In Cold Blood

Inception

I am a Fugitive from Chain Gang

Inside Out

Island of Doctor Moreau

It Follows

Interview with a Vampire

Inner Space

Into the Spiderverse

Independence Day

Jupiter Ascending

John Carter of Mars

Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom

James Bond (All Movies)

Julie

Karate Kid

Knives Out

Kingsmen

Little Miss Sunshine

Labyrinth

Long Kiss Goodnight

Lost Boys

Leon: The Professional

Let the Right One In

Little Women (1994)

Mad Max: Fury Road

Magnolia

Men in Black

Mimic

Matrix

Misery

My Cousin Vinny

Mystic River

Minority Report

Mr. and Mrs. Smith

Neverending Story

Never Been Kissed

No Country for Old Men

Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors

North by Northwest

Open Water

Orange County

Oceans 8

Oceans 11

Oceans 12

One Flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest

Ordinary People

Paddington 2

Platoon

Pulp Fiction

Papillon

Pan’s Labyrinth

Pineapple Express

Peter Pan

Princess Bride

Paradise Lost

Primal Fear

Prisoners

Peter Jackson’s King Kong

Reservoir Dogs

Ravenous

Rushmore

Road Warrior

Rogue One

Reality Bites

Raider of the Lost Ark

Red Dragon

Robocop

Shooter

Sky High

Swingers

Sword in the Stone

Step Up 2

Spy Kids

Saving Private Ryan

Shape of Water

Swept Away

Star Wars: Return of the Jedi

Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back

Superbad

Society

Swordfish

Stoker

Splice

Silence of the Lambs

Source Code

Sicario

Se7en

Starship Troopers

Scrooged

Splash

Silver Bullet

Speed

The Visit

The Italian Job

The Mask of Zorro

True Lies

The Blair Witch Project

The Lord of the Rings Trilogy

Tangled

The Craft

The Guest

The Devil’s Advocate

The Graduate

The Prestige

The Rock

Titanic

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

The Fly

Tombstone

The Mummy

The Guardian

The Goofy Movie

The Peanut Butter Solution

Toy Story 4

The Ring

The Crazies

The Mist

The Revenant

The Perfect Storm

The Shining

Terminator 2

The Truman Show

Temple of Doom

The Cell

To Kill a Mockingbird

Timeline

The Good Son

The Orphan

The Birdcage

The Green Mile

The Raid

The Cider House Rules

The Lighthouse

The Book of Henry

The A-Team

The Crow

The Terminal

Thor Ragnarok

Twister

The Descent

The Birds

Total Recall

The Natural

The Fifth Element

True Romance

Terminator: Dark Fate

The Hobbit Trilogy

Unforgiven

Unbreakable

Unleashed

Very Bad Things

Wayne’s World

What Women Want

War Dogs

Wedding Crashers

What’s Eating Gilbert Grape

Welcome to the Dollhouse

Welcome to Marwen

Wet Hot American Summer

What Lies Beneath

What Dreams May Come

War Games

Who Framed Roger Rabbit

Weird Science

Willow

Wizard of Oz

Wanted

Young Sherlock Holmes

You’ve Got Mail

Zodiac

Zoolander

#stranger things #ask #st4 #st4 movies

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lunamonroeao3 · 6 months ago

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“The bridge has always been a curse. The faces etched out of stone, all sharp features and hard edges, watch and observe the atrocities laid out in blood over the years.

Vi’s footsteps are heavy, the river below her sloshing and angry with the wind. Her gaze is set on the cement under the thick fog, her fingers still tingle from the absence of soft hair and softer skin, heartbroken blue eyes that mingle with a long forgotten memory and the broken present. Vi knows she’ll see her tomorrow. She’d promised. But promises are slick like oil for someone like Vi, all intention and failed action.

The urge to break and rage on her own is all too appealing without Ekko and Caitlyn. She could hunt for her sister, unencumbered by the weight of the Firelights, and start a war against Silco alone with her fists. But then there’s Caitlyn. The look of unfiltered shock, the poison of the untold truth makes her stomach sink. She isn’t sure why, but the idea of breaking that promise is all the deterrent she needs from going rogue , as Marcus had put it.”

Chapter 20 of RCtC is live!! Also I finally graduated from law school so I cannot wait to heal my inner child and actually get to write without guilt💕

#caitvi #vi arcane #arcane #arcane piltover #caitlyn kiramman #fanfic #violyn #piltover's finest #vicait #ekko arcane #first fanfic #my fic

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pupsmailbox · 6 days ago

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hai, in need of gender neutral name ideas:)

masc or fem leaning names r fine, i also like masc names that give off a neutral divine vibe

names like ciel, blake/blade, remiel

some might be closed so make sure to do your own research !! also i have this and this !!

CIEL︰ airi. anais. anaïs. aria. asher. august. aura. aurora. bijou. blue. cael. caelia. cala. calah. calais. cale. caley. calla. callia. camille. cashel. casimiro. castiel. cayla. cecil. cecile. cecilia. cecily. celeste. celine. ceres. ceyla. chael. chaeli. chelle. chill. chilli. christy. cicily. cielle. cili. ciqala. circe. clay. clea. cloud. clément. coll. coralie. csilla. cualli. cybele. cyrus. czelaw. delyth. dione. donati. dream. eluned. esca. eulalie. fia. finn. florentin. génie. hadas. hero. honora. hyperion. jasper. kahlo. kai. kirion. laslo. levi. liam. libra. louise. lucien. luna. micah. miel. mirage. oliver. orion. phoenix. sarabi. sebastian. seraph. soleil. suri. tau. tawera. violet.

BLAKE︰ alec. arden. asher. ashton. audrey. austin. ava. avery. bailey. baker. balesego. balius. bayleigh. belicia. bellachay. bilge. black. blaga. blagoy. blaine. blair. blaire. blaise. blake. blas. blayke. blaze. bliss. blues. bluesy. blush. bolesia. bolko. briar. brock. brooke. brooks. bryce. caleb. cameron. carson. carter. charlie. charlotte. chase. chloe. clay. cole. colton. cooper. drake. drew. dylan. elaine. ella. elliot. ellis. emerson. emma. ethan. finley. gavin. grayson. harper. hayden. hazel. hudson. hunter. ivy. jack. jackson. jake. james. landon. lane. layne. liam. logan. luca. luke. mason. miles. noah. oliver. olivia. owen. parker. quinn. reese. riley. river. rowan. ryder. sawyer. wyatt.

BLADE︰ abraxas. ace. aiden. alain. alexander. aria. asher. aurora. autumn. ax. axel. ballad. balta. balto. bane. belita. benjamin. bentley. blaise. blayze. blaze. bleta. blithe. blodwedd. blythe. bolt. boyd. braden. braeden. brayden. braydon. bullet. bulut. charlotte. chase. clay. clyde. dagger. danger. dash. denim. diesel. draven. floyd. gage. grayson. hazel. isabella. jax. jett. jinx. justice. king. klay. liam. lloyd. onyx. quade. rogue. ryder. said. silas. slade. stone. storm. talon. violet. wade. wayde. zaid. zayd.

REMIEL︰ adel. adriel. airlia. aksel. alora. amenadiel. anael. anna. arbor. azalia. azrael. balthazar. beleth. bobby. broderick. caster. diana. doris. elizabeth. emilien. eris. fenris. gabriel. harmonia. helio. honor. jophiel. jove. lennox. leyre. lilith. milo. moira. nimbus. orias. rachel. raeden. rael. raiden. rami. ramiel. rapahel. raphael. raylen. raziel. reid. remington. romeo. romy. ronan. rumi. rylan. sabriel. samael. sammael. sariel. sitka. theia. themis. uriel. varda. vivian. zackariah. zadkiel.

#⭐️lists #name suggestions #name ideas #name list

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clangenrising · 10 months ago

Text

Month 11 - Leafbare

The evening was cold but not unbearable, and for that Goldenstar was thankful. The sky was black above them, a blanket of dark clouds through which a star or two shone dimly. There was no moon to light their path. Nonetheless, she and her companions made their way to the Cornerstones for a very important meeting.

“What if a fight breaks out?” Floodpaw said, padding beside her. “How will we know if StarClan is mad if there’s no moon?”

“This is going to be a small meeting among leaders,” she said. “No one will be fighting.” Floodpaw frowned slightly and Goldenstar sighed. That boy.

Sagetooth seemed to be thinking the same thing. “Are you sure it’s wise to bring him along?” she groused. Floodpaw pouted further.

“It’ll be fine,” Goldenstar said tiredly.

The last few weeks had been exhausting. She’d spent days grieving for Scorchplume, then fretting over Yarrowshade while he healed from his bruised - but thankfully not broken! - ribs. After that she’d been scrambling to keep things together. To her shock, Orangestar had come to her suggesting they turn Aldertail over to the rogues but she had abandoned the idea the moment Goldenstar had pushed back. Orangestar was scared and out of her depth, they both were, but deep down she didn’t want to send a cat to such a terrible fate, which was a relief.

Together they had organized this meeting, even if Snowstar and Flightstar had continued to put it off for days. The entire time, Razor and his rogues had pushed the border by a tail length or so every day, working their way deeper and deeper into her territory. The longer things dragged on, the more they drained Goldenstar’s energy. Each new inconvenience or threat was like a tick and they just kept building up until she felt like she was covered in them, metaphorically speaking.

On the other side of Floodpaw from her, Smokyrose smiled sympathetically. “He promised to be on his best behavior, didn’t you, Floodpaw?”

“That’s right,” he said, puffing up to his full height with a bounce on his toes. “I’ll be quiet the whole time, just like I promised. Please don’t make me go kitsit with the others!” He shaped his face into a pleading expression and craned his head to look over Goldenstar’s back at Sagetooth. At eight moons old, he barely had to stretch to do it anymore and Goldenstar marveled quietly at how quickly he had grown. He was nearly taller than she was!

Sagetooth rolled her eyes and looked away. “It’s not up to me anyways,” she said, which was as good as a yes.

“What’s wrong with kitsitting?” Smokyrose teased. “Do you not like my little girls?”

“No, it's not that,” Floodpaw scoffed, bumping shoulders with the elder gently. “It’s just boring. I’d rather be learning! Like tonight,” he turned his eager blue gaze on Goldenstar, “I get to study diplomacy and stuff.”

“I’m surprised you’re interested, honestly,” Goldenstar said.

Floodpaw shrugged. “I want to know everything it takes to be a good leader, in case I get to be your deputy one day.”

“Hmm,” Goldenstar smirked, “we’ll see…”

The four cats made their way over the river and into the trees. As the Cornerstones came into view, Goldenstar spotted a small cluster of cats. Among them was a bright ginger shape and for a brief second she thought it might be Scorchplume but the illusion was quickly dispelled. Orangestar’s posture was far too anxious to belong to Scorch. Besides, she thought, what would she be doing here?

Orangestar waved as they approached. Beside her was Darkmoon, the deputy, and a tortoiseshell cat it took Goldenstar a moment to recognize.

“Poppybird,” she greeted the FallenClan mediator with surprise. “Where is Flightstar?”

“He’s not coming, I’m afraid,” she said apologetically.

“He’s not?” Sagetooth huffed. “For what reason?”

“He said this is none of his concern,” Poppybird said. “He said I was free to come in his stead, though, so here I am.” Sagetooth sat down with a disgruntled hrmf.

“Well, thank you for coming,” said Smokyrose. “Maybe you can help him understand the gravity of the situation after tonight.”

“StarClan willing,” Poppybird smiled and it was clear she was struggling not to speak ill of her leader. Goldenstar returned her pained smile and settled down next to Orangestar.

“I hope you all don’t mind if my apprentice sits in on the meeting. I’m hoping it will be a good learning experience.”

“Of course not,” Orangestar said, tail twitching anxiously. Goldenstar let her tail fall over top of Orangestar’s and the younger leader gave a breathy laugh and nodded in thanks. Goldenstar nodded back. She was grateful she was able to be there for the cats around her when they needed her.

She wished she had been able to be there for Scorch when she had the chance…

“Greetings, friends!” Snowstar’s voice rang loudly through the clearing, jostling Goldenstar from her thoughts. The white furred leader, Coyotechaser, and the SkyClan mediator, Heatherfuzz, strolled into the clearing and joined the other cats at the base of the Cornerstones.

“No Flightstar?” Coyotechaser asked.

“He declined the invitation last minute,” Poppybird explained.

“That’s too bad,” said Heatherfuzz, folding his tail over his paws.

“Yes, a real shame,” said Snowstar a little too loudly. Floodpaw in particular grimaced and pressed his ears back against his head. Goldenstar surreptitiously looked at Sagetooth who cast her a sideways glance and swiped a paw over one ear before focusing back on the meeting ahead of her. So her suspicion was correct then. It seemed Snowstar’s hearing was finally starting to go.

“We should get started,” she said, changing the subject. “Razor’s band only get bolder by the day. Something needs to be done.”

“Agreed,” said Orangestar, trying to sound firm. “Every day we have less and less prey to share.”

Darkmoon nodded. “Either they don’t know how to preserve next year's hunt or they don’t care. I’d wager the latter.”

“Both can be true at once,” Sagetooth said. “They know nothing of our ways and they don’t care to learn. They need to be stopped.” Turning her gaze to Snowstar, she said, “We would handle them ourselves if we could but, as you know, the Red Gut cut all of our Clans down to a dangerous size.”

“We need your help,” Smokyrose said, glancing from Snowstar to Poppybird. “Both of you. This is a threat to all of the Clans, not just RisingClan.”

“I know,” Snowstar started loudly, although she paused when Coyotechaser brushed her tail against her side and then started again at a more reasonable volume. “I know, but, from what you’ve described before, there are enough rogues to outnumber all of the Clans several times over. Maybe we should start considering alternatives.”

“Alternatives?” Darkmoon glared. “Like what?”

“Well, for starters,” said Snowstar, “maybe you both could start searching for new territories.”

“What?” Floodpaw blurted but shrank when Sagetooth shot him a withering stare. Still, Goldenstar was with her apprentice on this.

“What do you mean, ‘search for new territories’?” she asked stubbornly. “Are we supposed to go off on our own? Cut ourselves off from StarClan and our ancestral homeland?”

Heatherfuzz shifted forward with a kind smile on his face. “There are hunting grounds over the mountains,” he said, “and a lake. They might be a good place to settle down, away from this Razor and his rogues. We would even be willing to help facilitate travel through the mountains.”

“Isn’t that lake swimming with twolegs?” Sagetooth snapped. “If I remember correctly, You have a kittypet warrior now who used to live there.”

“They’re only busy in greenleaf,” Coyotechaser said, “A seasonal challenge, like foxes and ticks.”

“That’s missing the point,” Smokyrose said gently, no doubt trying to make up for Sagetooth’s brusqueness. “From what we understand, Razor is looking for a psychological victory as well as a physical one. He’s trying to prove that he can push us around, that he’s better than us. If we leave for the mountains that will only encourage him and next thing you know he’ll be encroaching into your territory as well.”

“That’s a bit of a slippery slope,” Poppybird said, “don’t you think?”

“Then we’re standing on the precipice of a slippery slope!” cried Sagetooth. “Stars above! Where are your spines?! Are you not warriors?”

“Sagetooth…” Smokyrose warned carefully.

“What?” Sagetooth’s hackles bristled. “Am I supposed to just sit by while these mouse-hearts hand our ancestral territory over to a bunch of faithless kittypets?!”

“Let’s all take a deep breath,” said Goldenstar. “Shouting isn’t going to get us anywhere.” Sagetooth huffed through her nose and turned her furrowed brows skyward. Thankful that the healer had listened, Goldenstar continued. “She’s right, though. This is what warriors do. Orangestar and I are going to have to fight back at some point. We need your help to avoid unnecessary bloodshed.”

She searched the faces of the cats in front of her. Poppybird studied the frozen ground at her paws with a troubled expression. Snowstar had tilted her head back to look down her nose at her as she considered the argument. Coyotechaser’s head was tilted to the side in an expression that said, ‘she’s not wrong.’ Heatherfuzz was still offering a sympathetic smile. Orangestar’s tail began to fidget again. Fat, wet snowflakes started to fall from the sky, resting on the cats’ pelts as they sat in silence.

Coyotechaser leaned in to whisper in Snowstar’s ear and Goldenstar overheard the words “StarClan” and “not unreasonable”.

Eventually, Snowstar nodded and said, “Alright. You make a good point. But I hope you can understand my hesitance. This is a big, dangerous thing you’re asking, and my Clan is just as weakened as yours.”

“That’s why we have to work together,” Smokyrose said. “United we are stronger.”

“Yes, yes,” Snowstar sighed. “I just wish there were better prospects before us. I don’t want to rush into a battle we can’t win.”

Just then, Sagetooth gasped sharply through her teeth. Everyone looked to see her sitting completely rigid, staring up at the sky with a heavy snowflake perched upon her nose and a distant look in her eyes. Goldenstar’s pelt prickled as the energy in the clearing changed. Those who had seen this sight before could recognize it anywhere - a prophecy!

After a long second, Sagetooth let out the breath and slumped her shoulders, head bowing. She panted for a moment before looking up at Snowstar with a grin.

“Ask and ye shall receive,” she said, the snowflake still sitting on her greying muzzle. “In nine days, a storm will come and the rogues’ defenses will fall. That is when we strike.” Floodpaw opened his mouth then bit down on his lip to keep it shut.

“Nine days?” Poppybird asked, “It was that precise?”

Sagetooth flicked one ear and said, “There were no words but I saw a sudden vision of the moon being blotted out by snow, then a raptor crushed a snake’s head in its beak. I know the phases of the moon and that one should arrive in nine days, maybe ten.” Floodpaw was starting to vibrate in his efforts to contain himself.

Goldenstar smiled. “Nine days then,” she said. “Can we count on you to be there?”

“Yes,” Snowstar said and Coyotechaser once again had to correct her volume. “I’ll bring my warriors to your camp before nightfall.”

“What about FallenClan?” Smokyrose asked. “Do you think the prophecy could convince Fallenstar to join us?”

“I would like to think so,” Poppybird said. “StarClan’s will is clear. I will see what I can do.”

“Thank you,” sighed Smokyrose in relief.

“What do we do until then?” asked Orangestar. “My warriors are already struggling to eat. Even if we drive them back, that won’t return the prey they’ve stolen.”

Snowstar hummed thoughtfully. “SkyClan can offer some of its prey to strengthen its allies. EarthClan and RisingClan are welcome to fish in our river until this threat is sufficiently dealt with on the condition that they preserve next year’s hunt.”

“Of course,” Goldenstar agreed. “We’ll take only what the river is willing to part with.”

Orangestar sounded on the verge of tears. “Thank you so much, Snowstar.”

“It is the least I can do,” Snowstar said graciously and Goldenstar had to agree but she wasn’t about to overlook the gift they were already being given.

“We’ll see you in nine days,” she said, rising to her feet. “Until then.”

“May StarClan light your path,” Poppybird said, doing the same.

“And may we fight with the strength of LionClan!” boomed Snowstar. Everyone winced.

“Indeed!” Smokyrose managed to cheer a bit.

Snowstar nodded and turned to leave with her Clanmates in tow. Poppybird dipped her head to the others and slipped around the Cornerstones to return to her own territory. Orangestar turned to Goldenstar and smiled, sniffing back tears.

“Thank you for helping me,” she said. “I couldn’t have done this on my own.”

“You could have,” Darkmoon shook his head.

“Agreed,” said Goldenstar, “but I’m glad we did this together. We need to look out for each other more than ever right now.”

“We’ll see you in nine days,” said Orangestar. “Good luck.”

“You too,” said Goldenstar, and both groups headed in their separate directions.

Before they had even left the clearing, Floodpaw practically exploded with questions. “What was that? You had a vision? Like from StarClan?” Goldenstar chuckled and wrapped her tail over his haunches as they walked.

“Yes,” Sagetooth said wearily. It seemed the vision had taken a lot out of her. “When they need to, they send us warnings about the future.”

“How did you know what it meant? Can anyone see a prophecy or is it just cats like you and Papa?”

“Anyone can,” Sagetooth hummed, “but usually leaders or healers are the ones to interpret them. It's a skill you can learn to cultivate, although some cats have a gift.”

“So there’s gonna be a big battle?” Floodpaw turned his excited gaze to his mentor. “Can I go?!” He bounced eagerly, jostling up against her.

“Easy,” she laughed. “We’ll have to see. Russetfrond and I will probably hold an assessment before the battle to see if you three are up for it.”

“Okay,” Floodpaw seemed a bit disappointed but wasn’t phased for long. “I’m sure we’ll ace it, no problem. Well… Maybe not Barleypaw.” He frowned as if irritated with his sister and Goldenstar laughed again.

“She probably won’t want to go anyway,” Smokyrose said.

“Yeah,” Floodpaw shrugged. “That’s fine. More fighting for me.”

“That’s not how that works, kid,” Goldenstar rolled her eyes.

“Whatever,” he laughed, bumping into her on purpose this time. She glared playfully and gave him a rough shove back, causing him to tumble onto his side with a squawk, flailing his gangly limbs.

Goldenstar smiled but the smile quickly faded. This battle was no laughing matter. Fighting Razor’s rogues was going to be dangerous and that was before you factored in a heavy snow storm. She would have to talk with Sagetooth about the best ways to prevent injured warriors from also contracting frostbite, send extra patrols looking for horsetail and cobwebs, oversee extra training for the apprentice and maybe even some of the warriors. She would have to coordinate the attack with the other Clans and hope that Fallenstar didn’t try to pick a fight, if he even came at all.

It was going to be a lot to handle but she was determined to do it. This was what Sunstar had trained her for. This was her destiny.

UPDATES: - Yarrowshade has healed from his injuries. - Sagetooth receives a prophecy from StarClan!

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