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dianneking · 1 year ago

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OH MY GOODNESS

Instant favorite. This first installment is so well written, so deliciously tantalizing, and - most importantly maybe - already with the promise of oh so much lovely angst in it, that I am so so so very glad this is going to be a multi-chapter fic!

Thank you so much for writing, I look forward to seeing how the plot progresses! (I strongly hope Larissa is going to be at least a little bit flustered, but I am also trusting it’s gonna be awesome in any way you choose to play this out!)

obstacle I

Larissa Weems x f!reader (nsfw) – series

summary: Could you be more careless? Talking to a stranger online and sharing the most intimate moments of your days with her? The way you trusted her was almost ridiculous, but the way she talked to you made you sure that this grown woman wouldn’t even consider harming you in some way. One would think you were a fool who would regret her messages one day, one would even point a finger at you and say how perverse all of it was. Luckily, no one knew. Except for Lydia, your mistress, to whom you granted not just your body, but also your heart.

a/n: i always dreaded writing series, but this woman inspires me so much that i'm finally up for the challenge. i hope i will be consistent with my writing enough to bring this story where i want it to be. filthy, angsty and gentle. i think there will be two or three more chapters and i am also considering crossposting on ao3. btw i have a vague idea of what architects do so if you notice some factual mistakes let's pretend that in my silly imaginary world things work this way. the names of the chapters are lyrics from interpol's 'turn on the bright lights' album (it's brilliant, a huge recommend if you like male manipulator music like i do haha). proofread, and i hope it doesn't sound as broken as i think it does. (bracing myself) let's set this little bird free into the wild.

general warnings/tags: unhealthy online relationship, dom!larissa x sub!reader dynamics, sexting, nudes, masturbation + angst and all that stuff to come

chapter word count: 4k

Part I: you are linked to my innocence

Sitting on the balcony, you admired the sun slowly crawling up from its slumber, painting the sky with faint yellow and pink shades, warming up the cool earth. The view before you made you smile. Perhaps having trouble sleeping had its benefits – you could admire such a beautiful sunrise and feel at peace for at least the next hour, before the world would wake up and start swirling around you, overwhelming and demanding.

Thinking of someone who was also so very demanding, you pulled out your phone and started recording the serene scenery. You tried to hold your phone still, though it was hard because of the chilly wind that made you shiver. Ending the video, you opened the messenger and sent it to a woman who made your heart sing just like the morning birds sang, greeting the sun.

You scrolled up your message history with her for a bit, smirking. What a sweet little relationship you had, one time you would send her a beautiful view out of your window, the next time – a picture of you touching yourself in the most sinful way.

Couldn’t sleep again? and What a lovely view, she replied an hour later. Not as lovely as you, though, she added after.

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Her name was Lydia and she had just the right way with her words. She would text you, Send me a picture, and you would rush out of your meeting to the bathroom to send her a selfie. She would text you, What a beautiful shirt you are wearing, unbutton it for me, and you would spend a bit more time in the bathroom sending her picture after picture.

You didn’t know what she looked like. She rarely sent you pictures in return, and you had only one 10 seconds long video of her touching herself. Her fingers were slender, her nails were painted a burgundy red colour, and she had those plush thighs that you wanted to squeeze with your hands. She was a woman of exquisite taste – taste in music, in foods, in lingerie.

You never asked her for more. It was entirely your choice to reveal your face on one of the first videos you sent her. She once told you, Don’t call me by my name on those videos, call me your mistress. You obliged. You always did. An impulse to ask the woman if she could reveal her face bubbled up inside your chest from time to time, but you pushed it away, never willing to make her uncomfortable. Perhaps there was something she didn’t like about herself, perhaps she wanted to be more mysterious and enticing, perhaps she just needed a bit more time – and it had been a year! Never being a selfish one, you suppressed your questions and played by her rules.

She knew a lot about your life. You didn’t realise that you barely knew about hers. You knew that her work was stressful enough to make her speak to you in an especially dirty way in the night, urging you to send new videos for her to let off steam. You could only imagine her, spread on her bed to your sinful sound and pleas. You would tell her, i wish i could see how pleased my mistress is right now, nudging her to send you a picture in return. The woman would just answer, Don’t doubt it, I am very pleased with my darling girl, thank you and end the conversation until the next morning. You knew that she played piano and was popular in high school, though a bit overshadowed by her best friend at the time. You knew that she liked long walks in nature, ice skating and that her favourite season was autumn. She never pressed you to share any details about your life, but you did it nonetheless.

It all started rather accidentally, and you told her millions of times how glad you were that she found you. There was an old record player that you wanted to sell online, and you even gave out a Fleetwood Mac vinyl in addition to it for free. The woman contacted you, anonymous at that time, though she contacted you too late, and the record player was already sold. It didn’t stop the two of you from continuing the conversation, talking about music and antique pieces of furniture she adored. After that, everything escalated quickly – topics changing topics and bringing you into dynamics you didn’t know you would enjoy this much. She teased you a lot, and at first you acted shy and hesitant, bending under her dominance and unravelling your own fantasies over time. She wrapped you around her finger, and on one particular evening you sent her your first video. The woman made it clear that she was hopeful to receive more of those in the future.

Could you be more careless? Talking to a stranger online and sharing the most intimate moments of your days with her? The way you trusted her was almost ridiculous, but the way she talked to you made you sure that this grown woman wouldn’t even consider harming you in some way. One would think you were a fool who would regret her messages one day, one would even point a finger at you and say how perverse all of it was. If you told any of your friends about Lydia, they would tell you that you went nuts. They would tell you to stop texting her immediately and delete the chat to destroy the blackmail material that you’d shared with a stranger. Luckily, no one knew. Except for Lydia, your mistress, to whom you granted not just your body, but also your heart.

Back in the day, you suggested moving the conversation from reselling website direct messages to a more convenient messenger, one that the woman hadn’t heard of before. It took her two days to create an account for contacting you there. Her profile picture was a bush of red flowers, her personal information included just a lyric of a song she liked, and all of it was only for your eyes to see. Not much, but her empty profile on an app which she signed in just for you never aroused any suspicions. Well, sometimes it did, but then she would ask you how your day went and the sweetness of the texts the two of you shared washed your worries away.

In fact, it wasn’t all about sexting. You could see that she was genuinely interested and caring, and you didn’t send her pictures and videos every day, after all. Maybe… three times a week? Five if she was desperate. She woke up earlier than you if you managed to fall asleep the night before and always brightened your day from its beginning with a sweet ‘Good morning, darling’ message. She always wished you a good night and checked in throughout the day, answering your texts and moving the conversation forward. Sometimes she would even send you flowers, and a delivery man would call you and ask for the address. The man would appear on your porch with a delicate bouquet later, a card attached to the wrapping would say, ‘To my favourite girl – L’. You could only giggle and smile to yourself for the rest of the day. No matter how hard you tried to get her number to send something in return, the woman would always brush you off. You can send me a picture in return, she would text you. That was exactly what you would do next.

You’d always start with pictures. On days when you felt especially good about yourself, you didn’t even wait for her to ask. Undressing, you would send her several pictures, losing yet another piece of closing on every photo. Sometimes it would take her too long to reply, and you would record a video for her in advance. There wasn’t any surface in your house that wasn’t caught on camera while you would thrust your fingers inside, making it all pretty and appealing to look at. The sounds you made were an absolute turn on for her, and you always ensured that you put on a good show. It wasn’t even necessary to try hard, you would just recall all the dirty messages she sent you over the course of your relationship, you would imagine how it would feel to be held by her, how those long fingers would pound into you, how her lips would tease your flushed skin. You had a good imagination, and it was enough. The tiniest bits of her that were available to you – all of it was enough, that was what you were trying to convince yourself of. A hopeless romantic you were, blindly expecting that one day she would surprise you and reveal herself, and tell you how much she wanted to meet you in person. Still, it never came. That day never came, and you tried not to overthink it. You were supposed to be grateful for what you already had, after all.

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I have a very important meeting today and I just know that it won’t go easy on me. Can you please bend over your desk for me this evening, dearest? Lydia texted you a few hours later after receiving the video.

of course, mistress, you answered playfully. your boss doesn’t give you a break, huh? ;)

Thank you, darling girl, I’ll be waiting, she replied, ignoring the message about her boss.

You made sure to text her during your lunch break, checking if she didn’t forget to eat in between her piles of work. She told you that she had a snack and it was very nice of you to bother. A couple of hours later she asked how were you feeling since you didn’t get any sleep last night. You told her that you were running on energy drinks and green tea and she jokingly scolded you for the energy drinks part. It made you bite your lower lip, how caring she was for you in return.

The desk in your office was never neat. Scattered papers, your laptop always on charge, heated up with architect software. You hunched over the plan with a pencil in your hand, making sure that the plumbing system of the building made sense at all. Working in a reconstruction and restoration company, you never really got a chance to do the part you studied for in the first place. Always checking other architects’ plans and fixing their mistakes for them, not having the opportunity to do something of your own. Your days were filled with somewhat ridiculous tasks yet even those managed to make you feel the struggle of workload.

The surface of your desk shuddered when your phone buzzed with a reminder about forthcoming meeting, and you straightened, feeling a familiar ache in your lower back. You threw on a jacket, took your phone and notebook and left your office, politely smiling at coworkers passing by.

The meeting went as smoothly as always – at least you enjoyed the working atmosphere of the company. Your boss talked about the updates in the company policy and proceeded to inform the staff about upcoming projects. He announced that the Principal of Nevermore school contacted them for the reconstruction work, and your coworkers didn’t even try to hide their opinions on outcasts and how infamous the school was, especially after the causality that happened a few months ago. Not paying attention to their grumbling, you thought it would be a great opportunity to finally show your skills, and your boss thought so too.

“Y/N, you will take over this project. I’m passing you the papers with details, I feel like the time to shine has come!” he said, approaching your seat with a folder in his hands. Some of your coworkers sighed in relief, glad that they wouldn’t be involved with Nevermore. It made you wince – you never thought badly of outcasts like the majority of others did, the idea of being hostile towards someone just because they were different made you nauseous like it would do to any decent person. “The Principal insists on cooperation, and I have to warn you – you will probably have to visit the site more times than would be necessary for a usual project. I hope it won’t be a problem,” he said with a light smirk.

You smiled and bit your cheek, anticipation tingling on your fingertips. “No, it won’t be a problem. Thank you,” you uttered, taking the folder. “When am I supposed to start?”

“Next week. We arranged a meeting with Principal Weems, she said it was very important for the school, and I quote, ‘to thoroughly negotiate the reconstruction process’.”

The school was enormous, but the work was connected to a relatively small part of it, a tower that was destroyed recently. You spent the rest of your evening studying the documents – an old plan of the school that included the tower. It was impressive how old this building was. Besides, you would be taking part in preserving and reconstructing the historic site, the whole prospect of reconstructing a part of Nevermore ensemble sounded like a dream coming true. The fact of such a project being granted to you to work on would be unbelievable if deep down you didn’t know the reason for it. It seemed that no one from your company wanted to work with Nevermore, but the school was about to pay generously, so they had to find someone to 'deal with the outcasts'. How foolish your coworkers were for declining such an opportunity, you thought, smiling to yourself.

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Back home, you didn’t bother to change into your indoor clothes, knowing full well that you would need to be completely naked soon anyway. Having had a quick meal and relaxed on the couch, closing your eyes for a little too long than you planned, you finally entered your bedroom and started setting a scene. Sometimes the lengths you went to make a perfect video for Lydia made you embarrassed, but how could you do it any other way? The woman’s attention was worth all of your efforts. You cleaned up your desk, returning previously forgotten mugs to the kitchen, shoving papers into the desk drawer and moving the pile of laundry laying on the floor out of frame. The curtains had to be closed for the last sun rays entering your bedroom not messing with the lighting on camera, the cosy shine of a garland and the dim light of a bedside lamp would be enough to illuminate your form in the most lovely way. You checked your reflection in the mirror and wiped away a few particles of mascara from under your eyes. For a second you tensed, your insecurity taking over. Would Lydia like you as much if she saw you in person? Wouldn’t she be disappointed that a flawless image you tried to create for her wasn’t as flawless in real life? Perhaps that was why she didn’t want to meet up in the first place? Did she already know that wasting the time of her busy schedule would completely disenchant her perception of you? You took a deep breath and shook your head, backing off from the mirror. It was alright. She liked you. Still you desperately wanted to be perfect for her.

The next thing you did was distract yourself with having fun and a bit of a struggle with setting up a phone stand out of books. After you were sure that your phone wouldn’t slide down halfway through the recording, you set a 10 seconds timer and started slowly unbuttoning your shirt to catch the process on camera. The photo turned out just the way you wanted from the first try, revealing the right amount of skin and a glimpse of your lingerie. It didn’t even matter in the end, but you were always attentive to details. Completely taking off your shirt, you grabbed your phone and took the second picture – a close up of your lacy bra, nipples visible through the fabric, collarbones calling to be showered with your mistress’ kisses. The sound of timer counting down rang across your bedroom once again, you unhooked your bra to send it down onto the floor and stepped back, already topless, unzipping your pants and craning your neck to the side with a soft smile on your lips. Oh, how much you loved spoiling Lydia even if sometimes it stressed you out to the point of worrying about your imperfections. Your pants made their way onto the floor as well, out of the frame, of course, and as the next timer started counting down, you rushed to your desk to bend over it prettily, exposing your cheeks for the last photo. Then, you returned to your phone and sent pictures to Lydia, smiling to yourself at the thought of her ending her tedious day of work and seeing your message.

It took you a fair amount of time to warm yourself up for the video by bringing yourself to the edge with a vibrator, uncomfortably sprawled in your chair and growing hotter with every second. You barely managed to stop yourself from climaxing, removing the vibrator from your clit and standing up on wobbly legs to continue your filming session. The phone was settled into its makeshift stand again, the sun finally settled, not peeking through the curtains anymore, which made the scene look especially intimate in the dimmed lights, and you were ready to absolutely ruin yourself for Lydia. After pressing the record button, you bent over your desk once again, and massaged your cheeks, squeezing and pulling to reveal your glistening sex. Having satisfied your need to tease the woman a little more, you spread your legs wider and took a toy that rested on the desk the whole time.

Teasing your wet entrance with the toy, you pleaded into the silence of your room, “Oh, please, fuck me… fuck me, mistress, please…”

By the time you finished, you were worn out – the position was rather uncomfortable, especially when you had to work with your hand from behind. You pressed the side of your face against the surface and sighed happily, “Thank you, mistress, you are so good to me.” There was a deep red mark of the edge of the desk on your knee, the wood was digging into your skin almost the whole time you were filming after you decided to move your leg higher for better access and view. The awkward scene of you grunting as you lifted yourself from the desk and padded over to your bed to stop the recording was cropped out later.

An hour passed by, and Lydia finally answered your messages, saying that she was done with the meeting and work for the day, ready to witness you coming undone for her.

You look absolutely ravishing, dear. Let me see how you used that toy on your pretty pussy?

are you already in bed? You asked, trying to withhold the sweet video a little longer.

No, darling. I’m taking a bath right now, she answered, arousing the urge in you to ask her if she could give you at least a glimpse of her body basking in the warm water. You didn’t ask her.

I need you, came a text seconds later, and you couldn’t resist her anymore.

The video went on for about 11 minutes, you didn’t know if you should have made it shorter or longer for her liking. You wondered how long it would take her, you wondered what she would use to pleasure herself and how it would feel to be with her in that moment, spreading shower gel all over her breasts and teasing her with your thigh pressed against her core. You wondered how it would feel to just settle in her lap, wrap your hands around her shoulders and hide your face in her neck, revelling in her presence.

The waiting after sending her those kinds of videos was the most tortuous one, you didn’t yet know if she liked the video or not, you didn’t know if it met her expectations, you didn’t know if it even made her wet and eager to pleasure herself. Sometimes you were afraid that she wouldn’t even bother to watch it or to reply to you ever again. Fifteen minutes later, you got a response – 1 attachment. Your heart somersaulted against your ribcage, and you hesitated for a moment before tapping on the notification, prolonging the excitement of not knowing what she sent you.

Those beautiful thighs. Oh, how much you thought about them wrapping around your head, how many times you rewatched the only video she sent you, remembering the patterns of stretch marks along her skin. She looked especially soft and rosy, her wet pubic hair neatly covered her sex, and the foam melted around her body, glistening on camera. The water was steamy and her hand rested on the rim of the bathtub – you could only assume that she was completely spent.

i would eat you out until those gorgeous legs are shaking, you texted after a while of staring, unable to think straight.

Not before I would be done edging you for hours, she cheekily answered. And before you could think of a suitable response in the same dirty fashion, she sent her next message, Thank you, dearest. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.

A smile spread across your features, so wide it almost started to hurt. You plumped down on the bed and nuzzled your nose into the pillow, vainly seeking her scent that was never there in the first place. Contented that the woman felt about you this way, you closed your eyes and tried to imagine her. Imagine, imagine, imagine – it was the only thing you could do. In that moment, you hopelessly wanted to press yourself into her, to cling to her body and dissolve in her warmth. How much you yearned for her to give you real proximity, to caress your sides as she would bury her face in your hair and fall asleep next to you, breathing peacefully. Or she would let you lie down on her chest and listen to her calming heartbeat, holding your hand and circling your skin with her thumb.

A couple of red heart emojis were sent Lydia’s way and you locked your phone, turned on your back and looked at the ceiling. Fulfilled and deprived at the same time.

by the way, i was given a new project today! You texted Lydia five minutes later, remembering that you forgot to share the exciting news. i’m so happy, they finally gave me the big girl stuff to do haha

That’s amazing, dear. I’m very proud of you, Lydia answered, making you blush.

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The next Monday you were on your way to Nevermore – it felt very exciting to leave the office for once to see the site of reconstruction. To your surprise, it wasn’t that long of a ride, you expected the school to be more distant from Jericho than it was. Driving along the road that was framed by thick forest made you want to pull over for a second to take a picture of towering trees, branches tranquilly swinging in the wind, the sun peaking through the leaves. However it would be a bad idea, unless you wanted to be late for the meeting more than you already were.

The building of Nevermore astonished you from the first glance. A dark fantasy, elaborate decorations and old-fashioned high ceilings. You arrived at the brink of evening – Principal Weems didn’t have time for the meeting until 5 p.m. – and the golden hour made the school look even more otherworldly. You didn’t need a tour since you had an insight on what the building was like inside, and the location of classrooms and halls didn’t really change over decades. Approaching the Principal’s office, you adjusted the collar of your shirt and fixed your hair – this was serious, you had to make a good impression on the client.

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a/n: oh, larissa... honey, you've got a big storm coming

#dianneking recommends #I am hooked #larissa weems x reader #multichapter fic #the flashes of love #gimme all the angst #Gimme all the larissa angst

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actualbird · 5 months ago

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// tot cn server spoilers, anniv 4 pv

ANGST AND KISSING IS ON THE MENU, LUKE ENJOYERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! //SCREAMS INTO MY FIST

#MY PRAYERS FOR ANGST HAVE BEEN ANSWERED!!! GIMME IT!!!!#also the romance of their kiss....all the colors and details....i cant believe lukerosa invented love #tot spoilers #tears of themis #luke pearce #tot luke #xia yan

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poppy-s-rampage · 3 months ago

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Once a Hero.

Chapter 1: Too late!

Warnings: Blood, Gore and violence. You can't sue me now!

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Prologue| Masterpost| Chapter 2!

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The Master of time leaned over the unmoving form of his young protegee, forceps needle and thread in hands. The old ghost deftly redid the stitches on the youngest torso. Slowly but surely closing the jagged ‘Y’ shaped wound shut.

‘How did it come to this?’

All it took was one minute of inattention for the young Halfa's timeline to be put in jeopardy. In a single moment of inattention, Daniel’s timeline tangled with another stray unstable one and merged. By the time Clockwork noticed, the timelines were already fused to the point of no return. Reality wrapped to fit the new Frankenstein series of events. So he did what he could, snip at some parts, and twist at others to make it so his protegee could have a chance of survival and still having a goodish timeline.

The gaping wound now finally shut, the old ghost went to treat the boy’s muzzle cuts and throat. The apparatus, when destroyed by the wail, had split open the right cheek’s flesh from the corner of the Halfas mouth, carving a morbid half smile. The boy’s tongue was bloody but could still be salvaged with diluted ectoplasm. The real problem was the throat; it was impossible to currently heal to a usable level with the concentration of ectoplasm he could safely use on Danny.

He was no Frostbite, but he was more than capable of putting back together the young ghost in a Time out. Daniel was too unstable to stay in the infinite realms, his core still too raw for pure Ecto. It would be like feeding a 10-year comatose patient a buffet after being kept alive via IV, transfer the concept to a fragilized and forcefully balanced core, and you get the idea. It was also a way to better realize the consequences of his mistake. But not to apologize, nothing would ever be enough to fix what Daniel had endured.

Clockwork stopped believing in apologies an eternity ago.

It all had happened so fast, Phantom had no chance of changing the course of events. Ironically, the current timeline was the best possible outcome after the incident.

While his protegee’s original timeline’s parents would have been accepting of his heritage, the ones of the intruding unstable timeline were not. ‘Monsters’ would have been too kind of a word to describe them. Curiosity plagued individuals who could have given Dan a run for his money. The origin of a world’s collapse, the cause of too many deaths, terrifying geniuses with an unquenchable thirst for knowledge and slaves of their obsessions. Even their children didn’t hold enough value for them to spare.

Thankfully, this world didn’t come to that and was still salvageable. Unfortunately, too many people have already lost their lives and existence to his mistake.

It had been like any tranquil day in young Daniel's life. He woke up groggy after a night of patrolling, went to school, hung out with his friends, patrolled a bit, saved a few weaker ghosts, stopped a few accidents and then went back home. The young Halfa had planned to finally reveal his identity to his parents- with no little insistence and encouragement from his sister and the reassurance of the previous Freakshow happenings. (He, of course, delayed the moment as much as he could.)

Of course, Clockwork had already watched and analyzed all the possible futures caused by this decision. He had assured Danny that no harm would befall him.

And since every possible happening was in Daniel’s favor, the ghost of time left the timeline out of his watch in favor of fixing yet another mess the Speedster’s had caused.

Seriously, what kind of mentally challenged troglodyte would erase an entire timeline to enjoy a cheap burger in loop instead of buying another!

*Crack*

The forceps broke in his hand. The Ancient summoned another one. Moving to stitch the lacerations on his king’s arms and legs.

It had, sadly, taken a while for the Master of Time to fix the Flash themed issues. It then took him an even longer while to salvage the tangled mess of timelines. He was far too late to save Danny’s loved ones. Humans, even Liminals, were fragile.

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The reveal had gone well at first, Jack and Maddie had accepted their son’s new nature. But then the timelines merged, the Fenton parents became one with their alternates and the world was set ablaze.

The youngest Fenton was promptly drugged and knocked out, only to wake up on a dissection table. His parents and a few GIW agents circling him, tools in hand. The hours, maybe days, Daniel spent in these creatures’ grasps were a nightmare made real.

His sister and friends tried to free him, only to be captured and fall victim to the same fate. Amity Park’s younger population mutinied against the agency and scientists but quickly got shut down. Brutally. The city was deemed a lost cause and put on lock down. The elder Fentons and the GIW galvanized by their success, went after every single being standing in their way in the name of science and self-defense.

It was too much for the young Halfa. His every waking moment being haunted by monsters wearing the skin of people he used to know and love. To hear the same people who raised and loved him gloating at the harm they caused his fraid. At the harm they caused him, vindictive. Every ounce of strength Danny had went into figuring out a way to save what he had left. But alas, he was too late.

Everything culminated the moment the agents and his parents reentered the room for the how manyth time. Their make believe faces fixed into a cruel smirk, smiles too wide, eyes too bright and too many teeth. Were the ghosts truly the monsters ?

Black opaque bags were dragged into the room next. A dreadful foreboding feeling caressed his spine. It was different. What were they planning?! What did they do?!

Panic seized the Halfa’s heart, hair standing on end. Eyes wide and pupils dilating as he noticed the strong smell of copper permeating from the bags. His restrained limbs shaking at the realization of the truth he oh so wanted to deny.

The monsters kept talking, taunting and accusing him of something. Blaming him. But he didn’t ‘hear’ them over his ever rising dread.

They opened the bags and his world came crashing down.

Three lifeless barely recognizable corpses. Chest opened in a bloody imitation of a butterfly. Missing limbs and organs. An innumerable number of lacerations. All indicators of a painful and slow death. But yet their eyes remained closed into acceptance and welcoming the relief of death.

He wailed.

Despite the muzzle, despite his already severed vocal cords. The wail coming from his very core blasted everything in his surroundings. The muzzle shattered, the monsters vaporized into a red mist and the walls became debris.

The building shook. The creatures in human skin panicked trying desperately to flee the premise but they were too late.

The latest experimental portal meant to be mass produced by the GIW resonated with the Wail and destabilized. The explosion that followed erased the facility and its surroundings and triggered the original Fenton portal which in turn wiped the city above off the maps.

Every single being died. The GIW agents, the Fentons, the citizens and some of the weaker ghosts. The stronger Phantom rogues weren’t even in the range or succeeded in escaping. The Fentons and GIW were still ‘thankfully’ useless when it came to capturing them.

And then there was Phantom.

Unfortunately or fortunately for him.

Forever the exception.

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Prologue| Masterpost| Chapter 2!

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Author note:

Hello! Thank you for reading! This time I didn't write this at 3 am!

I wrote it at 5am! Insomnia says what?

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caitlynspistol · 2 months ago

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“you don’t know the things that i’ve been through”

girl you’re about to find out

#mental breakdown red top tier #gimme all the angst hehe #glassheart #charminghearts #descendants #descendants the rise of red #wenz can talk

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frantic-babbling · 2 months ago

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jumps around and starts twirling

I call this one: Ponyboy angsty teenager extravaganza!

This is a long chap y’all so I hope everyone enjoys it. As always come talk to meeeeeeee k bye ❤️

#it’s here #it’s finally here #it’s that time of the week #gimme all the angst

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sillygoofyqueer · 4 months ago

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'Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight)' by ABBA but it's just the MXTX love interests trying to get ready for their dates (as roommates) while simultaneously gushing about their boyfriends. Of course they have a moment where it cuts between each of them rushing around and they break into an impromptu synchronised dance session halfway through it, before acting as if nothing happened as they split away to keep getting ready.

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pearlsinmyhair · 1 year ago

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₊ ⊹ the price of the name.

synopsis: reader has had a hard life, and now she’s an orphan. but someone just as lonely comes into her life to take her under his wing.

warnings: there’s death in this one. miles being injured. self deprecating thoughts from miles (brief). suicidal themes (brief). cursing/language.

let’s do this guys. reminder that birth miguel and star girl have trauma that hasn’t been dealt with.

part i | part ii | part iii

word count: 3.3k

pt iv: the price

　　　. 　　˚　　　　*　　　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚

prophet girl,

chosen by the sun,

do you hear the gods whispering

those silent stardust words?

it had been three months when hobie jumped through the window of your bedroom to tell you what was happening.

you had been cooking at the stove, boiling water and checking the seasoning cabinet when you heard the tell tale thump of hobie’s boots on your floor.

you expected the usual: hobie wanted to hang, maybe listen to music, maybe take you to his dimension for a show.

but then he stepped out of the bedroom doorway, wearing a look of cold disdain, and you realized something was truly wrong.

but you were getting ahead of yourself.

₊ ⊹

the three months without fighting anomalies or training with miguel had been fine. typical. normal.

but you hated normalcy, especially after the madness of inter-dimensional travel.

and on the quiet nights, where hobie was too busy to visit and there was no crime, you felt lonely.

you didn’t have close friends in your demension, all thanks to how much time you dedicated being spider-woman. when you were just defending your own new york you spent most of your time fighting. but the addition of miguel’s apprenticeship had left you with very little free time to make friends.

the three months without company had worn you down, to the point where you nearly used your watch to go back to Nueva York multiple times.

and that’s how you came to the realization that miguel meant much more to you than you originally thought.

and it felt like shit. because miguel was stubborn. he would not change his mind on bringing you back. and even after three months you were sure that he was still pissed.

you shouldn’t have mentioned gabriella. it was unfair and below the belt.

but your words were not lies; you didn’t want to be treated like you were fragile. you weren’t.

yet you craved it, being held like you were something to be cared for.

you missed your mother. you missed your old friends. you missed the stupid shenanigans of the spider society. you missed…

you missed miguel.

his glares. his scoffs. his chuckles. his smiles.

hell, you missed the way he and peter b bickered. or when he would yell at lyla. or when he would criticize your notes on complex cellular functions.

if it weren’t for hobie, you were pretty sure you would have risked the trip back to Earth-928.

so you had got up from your bed, still in sweatpants and a tank to cook. productivity was hard, but you could try by at least making dinner.

₊ ⊹

and here you were with your head in a spice cabinet, trying to find three seasonings that it looked like you didn’t have. you promptly pulled back upon hearing a thump from your bedroom, greeted with an uncharacteristically grimacing hobie.

“hey” you said simply, trying to figure out what was going on.

he looked up.

“miguel’s chasing down a kid from 1610.”

“wait, gwen’s kid? miles?”

“that’s the one.”

you paused, watching as the steam began to make the pot cover rattle.

“why?” you asked, turning the stove off and fully facing hobie.

he sighed, dropping his head back to look at the ceiling. “his dad’s the captain. and he wants to save em.”

your hands tightened on the countertop. “and miguel will have none of it.”

of course he wouldn’t. he had spent so long holding the canon together, why should he let it crumble for one kid’s father?

you had never agreed with that logic.

which was exactly why hobie was here.

“so what can we do to help miles?”

hobie smiled, passing you a box covered in various stickers and sharpie drawings. “i need help finding him. i’ve already sent one to gwendy, so i’m gonna get her and touch base. but miles doesn’t have one.”

you opened the box to realize that ‘one’ was a homemade watch, just as decorated as its box.

“miguel’s gonna murder you, hobes.” you whispered as you studied the make of the invention.

“yeah, well, he’s had a while to do it, and he hasn’t yet.” came his reply.

you smiled, closing the lid. “so, what’s the plan?”

₊ ⊹

universe 42 was a hunch, an educated guess that left you swinging through a world with no idea of what ‘spider-man’ was.

all around you, roof tops were burning, cop cars were blaring sirens, and thieves were running ramped. it took all of your self restraint not to pause and help.

but you had a mission, and barely enough time to complete it. you needed to find miles morales, before miguel did. you had no doubt that if the kid wasn’t in his dimension that miguel wouldn’t figure it out, so you had to be quick.

you hadn’t expected to find the kid so quickly, running from this universe’s prowler through the streets.

well, swinging.

the kid was fast and unpredictable. but the prowler matched him easily, keeping up with him and even getting a few hits in.

it took you webbing miles and tugging him against a building for the chase to end.

miles threw his elbow back against you, no doubt assuming that you were one of the spiders sent to find and detain him. but then he glitched and went momentarily limp.

you had just enough time to drag him under a covered rooftop and snap hobie’s watch onto his wrist.

that gave miles pause, and you watched as he slowly figured out that you weren’t going to kill him. for good measure, you pulled off your mask, and that seemed to relax him a bit more.

“we need to get you to a safe house, away from the open. can you swing?” you asked the boy, quickly taking inventory of the various injuries on his skin.

you were going to kill miguel when he came.

miles nodded, his eyes drooping slightly with exhaustion. you grabbed him under the armpits to pull him to the edge, and together you webbed to a warehouse not too far away, just on the outskirts of town.

it was a place that you had established long ago. if you ever needed a place to sit and tuck away, you came here.

hobie didn’t even know. and miguel especially didn’t. at least, you thought so.

miles landed unsteadily on his feet, and you once again circled you arm around the younger boy, leading him to a small cot tucked away behind a wall.

he went willingly, practically collapsing onto it as you left him to get some water and first aid. when you returned he had an arm thrown over his eyes.

“hey hey. i know you’re tired, but we don’t have time to sleep right now.” you murmured regretfully, handing him a water bottle and a protein bar. “i need you hydrated and energized. now, let me see your injuries.”

when he removed his sweatshirt and jacket, you inhaled sharply.

forget killing. you were going to gut miguel alive.

as you cleaned his scratches and iced the bruises, he watched you, searching. he may have been young, but he was attentive.

“you’re miguel’s apprentice.”

your fingers halted against his skin, holding a bandage over a small cut.

“yes.” you said. there was no point in lying. “but i assure you that i don’t want to restrain you, nor beat you into a train.”

peter had told hobie about what had happened, and hobie had relaid it to you before you had disappeared into the portal to this universe.

miles winced, from both the hydrogen peroxide and from the reminder. but he didn’t talk about it more. you took it as a sign to drop it.

“this place is terrible.” he muttered, and you noted the way he shifted the conversation.

“yeah, it is.” you agreed, more so to get him to continue talking. he was tight as a wire, this kid. he needed to release some tension, and these words seemed like a trickle before a flood.

miles looked up, studying the metal beams of the warehouse. his jaw tightened, and his eyebrows knit.

he was starting to cry.

“it’s my fault that it is.” came his quiet voice.

you stopped, watching his face as he refused to look at you.

“and what makes you think that?” you whispered, moving your hand to rest over his in an attempt to calm him.

a single tear rolled down his cheek as he looked at you.

“i’m an anomaly. i…the spider wasn’t mine to take. if i hadn’t been bitten, then this world would have been better.”

your heart thumped hollowly as you registered his words. here was this boy, so young and wonderful and strong, torn apart.

by someone who you cared for.

“are those his words?” you asked, and he turned his face to the side, attempting to recover.

but you reached up and pulled him down, and he bent his head to tuck against your shoulder. you pulled him close, letting him cry, granting this one moment of release.

the eye of the storm.

“you are worthy of this suit, miles. it was not you who took that spider. it was fate that you be bitten by it. you couldn’t control that. you are not an anomaly.”

his arms tightened. you held him fast against you.

no kid deserves this. no child. he was only fifteen for fucks sake.

your spider senses tingled. then they roared.

you pushed miles behind a crate, and he went invisible, already sensing as well.

he was hidden right as you heard a portal open below.

your chest tightened, and you pulled your mask back on. you stepped out to the balcony, looking down to find him already looking at you.

miguel ohara.

“long time no see.” you called, and his eye marks sharpened.

hobie had warned you that he had gotten harsher since you left.

“where is he?”

“the child?” you countered, anger already boiling. “the fifteen year old that you beat the shit out of?”

miguel didn’t relent. “he will break the multi-verse, y/n. i don’t have the time to bicker with you. where. is. he?”

“not here. i searched already, and he’s not in this dimension. maybe you should tune up your go-home machine.”

he was in front of you in an instant, towering over you. it would have been intimidating if you had just met him, but you had seen this man shed a tear at holding a newborn mayday, so you stood your ground.

“i’m not playing games, y/n. tell me now.” he growled, and for an instant you felt actual fear.

before you could even open your mouth to reply, a screw dropped from the ceiling.

miguel turned, and miles’s invisibility shivered as he lost his concentration.

“shit.”

miguel launched forward, but you threw a web and tugged him back, quickly webbing him against the railing until he couldn’t move.

you hadn’t stopped training just because you didn’t have miguel.

he yelled after you as you and miles left the building, swinging faster than you ever had before. you needed to make a portal quickly, but your watch was blocked.

“lyla!” you screamed at the watch, and the ai-woman appeared. “let me through!”

“i can’t do that, star girl.” came her reply, almost sounding mournful.

so it was up to miles to open the portal. but hobie’s watch wasn’t as perfect as the one on her wrist. where the portal popped up was unpredictable, and it didn’t stay open for long.

and because the universe loved you so very much, an orange web stuck to both your bodies and hauled you back.

you both rolled onto a nearby rooftop, but you quickly recovered, dragging miles forward as miguel slammed into the ground behind you.

“you run, i’ll distract him. whatever you do, get through a portal.” you shouted as you turned.

you webbed a long string into each of miguel’s shoulders, then pulled so that you slammed your feet against his chest, throwing your bodies off the building.

miguel was fast, but you were smaller, more agile. you kicked at his back, slicing his webs as he tried to sling them. he tried to restrain you, but in the open air of the city, you easily avoided the webs.

but miguel was still gaining, and you were nearly physically incapable of stalling him.

hobie’s voice cut through the watch. “we got ‘em, star girl. you’re doin great.”

“hobie!” you cried, panting as you kicked against miguel’s chest again. “how are you doing that?”

“spider-byte.” he replied. “y’need help?”

miguel caught your foot and threw it to the side.

“nah, i got this. just like old times.” you said back, ignoring the way your muscles burned with overuse. “just get miles out of here.”

“yes ma’am.”

miguel’s fighting tactics were aggressive, almost always throwing and punching. but now, it seemed like he refused to even touch you.

he wouldn’t scratch or aim to hit. he just moved you away and kept going.

you didn’t know if it was pity or mercy, but either way it was pissing you off.

you were swinging forward when you suddenly glitched. hard.

which didn’t make sense. you were wearing a watch, which should have prevented it.

miguel caught you with a web when you fell, and you lifted your wrist to check it.

only to see a blaring ‘CANON EVENT DISRUPTED’ warning on it.

“lyla, explain.” you heard miguel call from above you. you still dangled from his web, and you utilized that to catch your breath.

“there was a canon event in y/n’s universe, but it snuck up on us. the algorithm has never seen it before.” said lyla’s hologram.

miguel looked down at you, cocking his head to the side in question.

you shook your head: you had no idea.

he pulled you up to a roof, where you stood up on unsteady legs. he rested his hands on your upper arms, letting you lean your weight on him for support.

your spider senses were going haywire, and it felt like your head was buzzing. your knees buckled, and miguel sank with you.

you realized he had pulled off your mask when the cool wind hit your face, and opening your eyes, you saw that he had removed his as well.

he looked exhausted. even more than the last time you saw him. how this man was even on his feet was astonishing.

“i’m gonna kill you.” you said as you set your forehead against his shoulder. he chucked, and you punched his chest.

“m’not joking. you traumatized that kid. he was shaking when i got to em.” you muttered, and for a moment you felt like you could fall asleep, warm against miguel’s shoulder.

but then your spider senses screamed, and you jumped up with a rush of adrenaline.

“hey guys, hate to mess up this reunion, but y/n’s universe is collapsing. fast.” lyla spoke up.

you sat up quick, stumbling to your feet. miguel reached to steady you, but you were already pulling from him.

“lyla, open a portal.” you asked, and she did immediately, understanding the urgency of the situation. but a hand closes around your wrist.

and there’s miguel, keeping you from rushing into danger.

your conversation three months ago flashed through your head.

you can’t lock me in a tower and call it love.

his grip loosened as he met your eyes.

“there’s a high chance that i can’t protect you in there, y/n.” he said, voice low.

“does that mean you’re coming with me?” you asked, daring to even hope.

he exhaled, looking to the side. you turned away, your stomach sinking as you remembered who exactly you were talking to.

you jumped through the portal.

₊ ⊹

you had seen the hologram of what the world miguel had been in looked like when it disintegrated, collapsing in on itself. you figured that you’d be prepared when you were faced with your own.

you were so very wrong.

the instant you exited the portal, there was screaming.

hundreds of people flooding the street, trying to escape the black void approaching them. children crying for their parents, families huddling together in a last goodbye, others standing still and letting themselves be taken away.

the plan formed in your head as you zipped through the streets: grab as many as you could and put them in hq. there had to be a way that you could save some of them.

but then your web hit a building, and the void traveled down it with a speed that made you stop. the black mass nearly reached you when a blade cut the string, and you were pulled into a hard chest in midair.

“miguel, let me go!” you screamed, pounding a fist against his chest in an attempt to get free.

“it’s too far gone! there’s no way to save them!” he called back, finding a rooftop that was still safe.

“no!” you screamed again, shoving him away. “i have to try, miguel! i have to! this is my home! i know these people!”

the blackness was seeping towards you two, approaching with an ominous humming that made your hair stand up.

“i can’t let you die.” he whispered as he pulled you against him again, trying to force your through the portal.

“let me! let me die with them! it’s what i deserve!” you were crying, voice so loud and desperate that your throat aches. “let me die miguel.”

he looked down at you and webbed you close, tucking your chin against his shoulder.

“i’m sorry.”

and then there was nothing but the sound of universes rushing around you.

₊ ⊹

you were launched through the portal, rolling across the floor to land face down. your body ached, wanting to give in to sleep. but your mind was racing.

“what was the canon event?” you demanded, getting on your hands and knees in an attempt to rise.

miguel looked at you, a terrible sense of deja-vu flooding his mind as he watched you break down.

lyla scrolled through her charts. “y/n, i don’t think you’re in the right mental state to-“

“i don’t give a fuck what mental state im in right now, i need to know.” you yelled, pounding a fist against the ground as your gut rolled.

miguel rested a hand against your back. “mi estrella, you need to calm down. por favor-“

you slapped his hand away, flinching at the contact. “no. you don’t get to call me that. not now, not ever.” you seethed, turning once more to lyla. “please, i need to know. tell me.”

your voice trembled as emotion stopped up your throat, and tears threatened to spill. your chest was heaving as your body tried to get enough oxygen to fuel the rapid pace of your heart beat.

lyla bit her lip and looked at the screen. “it’s a unique event, and the algorithm didn’t know what number to give it. so…it’s called event 0-star girl.”

you waited as she read the screen, watching her projected expression slowly drop.

“event 0-star girl description. spider woman of universe-328 meets universes doc oc. fight ensues. and…”

she paused, re-reading the page, searching for anything but the words that appeared to her.

“no, no, no…” she whispers, frantic.

“lyla.” you beg, tone desperate as your shoulders start to shake and tears trickled down your face.

she looks at you, with an expression so devastated that your heart drops down to your stomach.

“you…

you die.”

masterlists. | next

one more to go. are you ready?

btw if it seems like i rushed through the whole universe-has-collapsed thing, i did. next chapter will address it. star girl hasn’t fully let it hit her.

edit: guys i kinda…i kinda hate this? idk, what do you all think. i feel like it’s not we’ll written.

taglist:

@brittany69 @ladyfairenvale @teamwolverine @kinkybandages @lunamhm565i @dhadiirah @pearlssdiary @zeyzeys-stuff @alexisabirdie @ifuckyourmom @hagdgishr @migueloharaslxt @ladynecromancer

#ANGST #GIMME ALL OF IT #—the price of the name #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel angst #miguel ohara angst #miguel o’hara #across the spiderverse #spiderverse x reader #atsv x reader #platonic!miguel ohara x reader #dad!miguel o’hara

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