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inkstainedhandswithrings · 2 years ago
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When We Bleed, We Bleed The Same Ramble no one asked for, yey!!
Today's topic: Names!
One thing, I, as a writer, really enjoy when creating a character, is the naming process. Now I could ramble for HOURS about all my characters names, but today I wanna focus on The Twins, Nevaeh "Vae" Requa and Celeste "Cel" Requa.
You might've noticed that their names are actually very similar!
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Celeste means heavenly, and Nevaeh is literally heaven spelled backwards.
Why would I name these characters that? As I explained in this post, the Terrans see their homeworld and everything that grows from it and comes from it as holy, due to their worship of the Force as a living entity.
So the Leader of a Tribe being pregnant with not one, but two children was viewed as a great blessing. Hence their parents wish to name them in such a way.
Out of universe it also holds meaning though! As you might notice, while Nevaeh means heaven, Celeste only means heavenly. So while Nevaeh is the original (she is the eldest too), Celeste is "only" Nevaeh-like. This is tragic in its own way for two different reasons.
For Celeste, because she will spend her entire life trying to live up to the standard her older twin sets.
And for Nevaeh, because she will spend her entire life needing to be better, to be superior, to be the perfect golden daughter.
However, "Heaven" is only one way to interpret Nevaeh's name, because it is not, in fact, heaven. It's heaven spelled backwards. And what's the opposite of heaven? Hell.
These two interpretation represent the duality of the character. Throughout this story, Nevaeh will continue to walk the line between truly good and truly evil. She errs on the side of light, but when it comes down to it, doesn't align herself with either side, choosing to stay within a gray area.
At the end of the day, Nevaeh and Celeste love eachother deeply, and will circle eachother like sun and moon, ying and yang. Opposite, yet the same. Tragic, yet beautiful. A blessing, that is their curse.
gonna just,,, tag the three ppl that I know read this story: @saturn-sends-hugs @exxasperatedauthor @coruscant-sewers
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xxplastic-cubexx · 28 days ago
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Hi!! Your Cherik is so good and gorgeous 🤩🤩 If you don't mind wanna try to draw some Fall of X Cherik please?
thank you so much !!
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i have a couple of ideas relating to the fall of x period specifically since theres. A Lot i wanna play with, so i hope this lil thing may be a satisfactory start :]]
and the obligatory bonus:
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#xmen#xmen comics#fall of x#cherik#charles xavier#erik lehnsherr#erik magnus lehnsherr#max eisenhardt#professor x#magneto#snap sketches#for clarity on of this tag ramble im calling magneto max OK ok#sorry it took me a while to answer- ive been busy this week !#but yah like i said theres a lot of Fall Of X moments i wanna poke at#one i really wanted to doodle around was max's time with the shadow king from Resurrection of Magneto#the third issue is prob my fave in general if im so tbh .... but i wont prattle bout that ill go back to my previous prattle#i dont think i have a comic in mind prob just a doodle with shadow charles....#i mean if im devious enough i can def turn it into a comic but for now i just know i wanna do something with that#honestly even this moment i might revisit when i have more time to draw something. a lil better#i dont hate this its a sound start- but i THINK i wanna draw a smooch. a lil kiss. idk we'll see#cause im cheeky like that. 'will this be the last time i see you' 'girl idk we can kiss about it though' etc etc#god not to get off topic but im so curious what will happen with these two ... but thats for a diff post i guess#honestly if you guys have any runs i should read lemme know !! i just finished way of x and bar that ive just been reading the 60s issues#i have a couple on my list i wanna check out but im always excited to look into recs if yall think theyre worth it !!#but ya. thats all from me for now#my time is so finite this week i hope i can draw these sillies again soon .. i have a lot of ideas i fear#maybe i can sneak in one more doodle tonight ... <- doubtful
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sleepy-light · 1 year ago
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Butler Ragatha and a doodle
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angelpuns · 1 month ago
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Lil hater Leo in honor of me FINALLY getting out of bed. Idk what happened to me today but I couldn't get out bed for the longest time ;-;
Anyway just like me, Leo also managed to get out of bed. Now, I for the life of me couldn't figure out what I would want someone to say to me in this situation, so I went the silly route. Probably don't actually say this to someone, I genuinely don't know what I would have wanted someone to say if there were anyone for me to apologize too :/
Anyway here's a transcript:
Leo: I'm sorry...I was supposed to cook dinner, but I did nothing all day...
Yuichi: it's okay!
Yuichi: in the wise words of my great-great-great-grandfather...it just be like that!
Leo, thinking: idk why this is making me feel better
Leo: he did NOT say that
Yuichi: he did, I swear
Anyway I once again would not recommend actually saying this and I don't think Yuichi WOULD say this, but I couldn't think of what I would want someone to say so :/
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 1 year ago
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you are . . NOT !!
katsuki watches the maury show with you
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you’re watching the maury show on your computer when katsuki marches into your room without a word and flops down next to you on your bed.
“ hello to you, too.” you snort. his words are muffled by your sheets but you’re about 90% sure he told you to shut up, you ignore it.
he lays face down on your bed for a while not saying anything and you know he’s had a long day and wants to be close to you without actually talking. you don’t mind, you’ll give him his space until he reaches out himself.
and he does after a little bit, turning his head around to face you as he looks from you to your computer screen, eyes focusing on the woman screaming that the man she cheated on her husband with was 100% not the father of her baby, mixed with the cheers of the audience.
he looks at you and raises a brow “ what’s happenin ?”
“ lady cheated on her husband with his brother.” you respond.
“ his brother ?” he repeats. his eyebrows furrow and you know he’s hooked. if there’s one thing katsuki loves but will never admit he does, it’s trash tv.
you nod, grinning somewhat evilly “his brother. now they’re trying to find out which one’s the father.”
he hums, scooting himself closer to you so he can see the screen too. he flips himself around so his neck isn’t craned at that awkward angle anymore and settles himself down right next to you. hook, line and sinker.
he wraps his arm around your shoulder and shoves his head in your neck, breathing you in. you both don’t say anything. “do you want me to play it from the beginning for you ?” he shakes his head in your neck. you reach your hand up to scratch at his scalp and you smile when he sighs. he holds you a little tighter, pressing feather light kisses into your neck.
katsuki’s never been good at expressing himself with any other emotion that isn’t anger. it makes him feel stupid and weak and soft. he’s had a long fucking day and he doesn’t wanna talk about it, simply wanting to indulge in you but he can’t tell you that, can’t find the words to, so he tries to find other ways to tell you and he hopes you understand and you do.
katsuki’s thankful for you because sometimes he wants to talk, wants to open up about what’s bothering him but sometimes he doesn’t. he doesn’t and you don’t pry when you know he doesn’t and he’s so thankful for you. he presses kisses on your skin and soft bites at your flesh to convey just how thankful he is, how grateful he is for having you. he hopes every warm press of his lips against your skin can convey how much he loves you loving him. and it does, because you turn your head and kiss the side of his head so sweetly and he knows you’re it for him.
he’ll tell you all of this one day, he promises. he’ll tell you all the thoughts swimming around in his head one day, but he hopes this’ll do for now. and unknowingly to him, it absolutely does.
he pulls his head out of your neck and kisses you hard on the cheek one, two, three times and you giggle. you feel him smile into your cheek when he kisses you a fourth time.
“fuck’re they screamin’ about ?” he says and you turn to look back at the screen. the woman is yelling at her husband’s brother vehemently denying the possibility of him being her baby’s father. you feel a little bad for laughing. “ she says he’s not the dad” you answer.
he clicks his tongue “ why the fuck is she on the show then.” he says, turning his attention back to your computer but his grip on you stays secure. you press yourself a little closer to him.
you’re still smiling lightly when you look back at your screen, simply shrugging. “ she said something about her having more sex with her husband than with him.” you answer and he snorts.
“ ten bucks neither one of them’s the father.”
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pwippy · 5 months ago
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chrysalis
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cjaus · 1 month ago
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its a cold little life, here in Winters.
🌨
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avidstarling · 8 months ago
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Happy anniversary to the Redesign!! Seeing these two's glowup had been part of my falling back into the show! Thought itd be fun to do my spin on them.
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makasdisaster · 5 months ago
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thinking about nasty denji again but this time its my time of the month sooo we talking about periods!
(minors don't interact this isn't for you so scram) 
wether you're a girl, boy, nonbinary ect ect ect, if you're bleeding from down there, Denji knows, he can smell it and it only makes him more aroused. Sure he still doesn't fully understands it but you didn't think he'd be way too curious because of it.
"What do you mean its "dirty"?" "can you eat it?" "will it stop?" " Whys there so much??" "Just lemme smell it"
this boy will ask it all, and you know he'll never stop talking if all you continue to reply with is "no", so for what's reason you give into his curiosity. one night in bed you let him go down on you and oh damn were you left speechless, he's never eaten you out like this before. maybe hes just pent up? or maybe its his primal devil desires kicking in when it comes to drinking blood.
this man is folding you in half, the tightest grip around your thighs to keep you in place, licking and slipping up every single drip that dares to fall from those red stained lower lips. Denji's practically making out with your pussy, thrusting his tongue in and out trying to get everything there in you, he even takes it a step farther when it drips down your ass his tongue doesn't miss a beat when flattening darting to your puckered hole, with a long hot dragged out moan licks up your ass to your pussy.
growing in satisfaction, the blug in his pants practically begging for relief. a big pre cum stain making a sticky mess against his lower abdomen, you can tell that if he keeps this up any longer, he'll end up getting himself off without you having to lift a finger, and that power alone was enough for you to let him keep going.
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acryliccassetteart · 2 months ago
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so i finished the magnus archives today and am sad so have some earrings i made
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inoreuct · 1 year ago
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thinking about mermaid sanji and sailor zoro,,,
the sky is cloudless, the sun’s glimmering off the calm water, the crew’s relaxing on the deck as they’re sailing through a clear patch of ocean; by all accounts, it’s a perfect day. luffy hasn’t gotten them into another shenanigan as of yet and zoro’s chilling up in the crow’s nest, half asleep and lethargic with the heat— and then he swears he hears laughter. and it isn’t coming from the ship.
he’s up on his feet immediately and squinting against the glaring light, wondering for a second if he’s seeing a mirage or a trick of the heat shimmer, because they’re sailing by a large, flat rock.
a rock with merfolk on it.
zoro’s shimmying down the mast in record time, ropes lashing around him as his boots hit the deck and he tries not to look like he’s running to the taffrail to catch a better look. (look, he’s curious, alright? merfolk aren’t a total myth, but they aren’t a common sight either.)
(that, and he feels oddly like someone has cast out a fish hook and it’s lodged behind his sternum, tugging him forward and forward until his hands are pressed palm-flat to the railing and he’s leaning over the edge.)
he hears that laugh again, rich and bright, wide eyes snapping to the mer who made it. golden waves shimmer over a leanly muscled shoulder, curling around a sharp jaw to reveal the mer’s pale, slender throat as they tip an oyster back into their mouth. leaning back on his hands — zoro is rather sure he is a he now, as a deep, smooth voice fills his ears, though he’s had enough tongue-lashings from nami to know not to assume — and tossing his hair back affords zoro a glimpse of a beautiful smile and bright blue eyes, blue as the goddamn sky. or maybe the sea. or perhaps the bioluminescent algae that had speckled the walls of this one cave that he’d been to ages ago—
he’s getting sidetracked. some sound must escape him, because suddenly a gaze so keen he feels his skin prickle is on him and he gulps involuntarily. and then for some reason, he opens his mouth. “are you a siren?”
the man’s curly brows narrow in irritation. “are you dead yet?” he snarks, casting zoro a flat stare and sighing in annoyance when zoro just stares back blankly. “no, I’m not a damn siren. lucky for you, we happen to be their… less bloodthirsty cousins.”
“less bloodthirsty meaning…?”
he shares a bored, bemused look with the woman on her elbows beside him, a mer with the richest purple colouring zoro’s seen in his life and a one-shoulder top made of shiny black kelp. “meaning we wouldn’t drag you down to the depths and feast on your carcass, but keep running your mouth and I might just change my mind.”
the mer’s tail is folded elegantly to the side as he lounges, fan-like tail fin trailing in the water, turning his body so that he can look at zoro properly as he tips back another oyster like it’s his god-given right. a tiny voice at the back of zoro’s mind whispers that this isn’t a good idea, whatever this is. it goes ignored. flaxen hair flutters in a slight breeze, sticking to the man’s milky skin in darker spirals where the tips are wet, and zoro’s breath catches as he watches the mer smile with teeth that are just erring on the side of too sharp.
the words register all at once and zoro lurches back, away from the railing, away from golden curls and blue eyes and pale skin. “what did you do,” he grits, resisting the urge to press the heel of his hand into his chest where it suddenly aches.
the mer shrugs. “nothing.”
“bullshit.”
“what’s the matter, sailor? feeling charmed?” that laugh, again, and zoro feels his heart throb. he watches the other man cock his head, studying another oyster in his hand, tilting the shell back and forth as he sucks on his teeth. “we can’t thrall,” he says finally, posture slackening with a sigh and a pout that seems to say what a shame as he picks up a knife and spins it deftly, shucking the shell open with a neat flick of his wrist. “only sirens can do that. whatever you’re feeling, whatever it may be, hasn’t been borne of any influence of mine.”
the oyster goes down and somehow, that sentence makes zoro feel even worse. it’s like he’s had the air punched out of him; he’s rooted, eyes wide, breathing hard as the mer makes a noise of pleasant surprise and pulls a pearl from his mouth, shimmering between his elegant fingers under the sun.
(zoro doesn’t know it yet, but he’s doomed. he was doomed from the start.)
*
back under the ocean, sanji has a crisis. he doesn’t see humans. he doesn’t meet humans. he and robin had just gone up to enjoy the sunshine and then this— this— brute swings by, with his stupid green hair and his three earrings and his obscenely grimy used-to-be-white shirt— sanji is fuming and he doesn’t know why. swimming laps back and forth across his cave isn’t helping either.
"might you possibly have something to get off your mind?" robin asks lightly, the pages of her book drifting in the water.
sanji does an about-turn and holds in a screech with all his might, forcing himself to relax with an exhale. "i'm just fine, my dear. peachy keen."
"you're making grooves in the floor."
"i'm redecorating."
he rolls the pearl from earlier between his fingers, squeezing it tight until his hand aches. "are you a siren, he asks," he mutters mutinously, fins fluttering as he throws himself onto a seaweed bed with a scowl. "how could a human be so stupid? if we were sirens he'd have been a waterlogged ball of moss on the sea floor by that point— and that hair. he looks like— like—"
"algae?" robin supplies helpfully.
"algae! sentient plant life, that's what he is, a kelp bed. water lettuce. duckweed, even." oh, he's so mad. that marimo pisses him off. the whole lot of them had sailed away, good riddance, because sanji never wants to see any of them ever again. they probably all smelled horrid anyway.
*
the merman's been following them.
the crow's nest is zoro's territory for a reason; he's the crew's lookout, and he's damn good at his job. for the past few days he's been seeing flashes of a broad tail fin and twists of golden hair. (he very firmly tells himself that he's not just seeing what he wants to see, because one, he might have one remaining eye but his eyesight is still as sharp as he keeps his cutlass, thank you very much. and two, why the hell would he want to see that merman? he isn't about to win any awards for his own manners but that guy had been stuck up and prissy and just rude. he's only been allowed to tag along this far because he hasn't presented himself as an outright threat. zoro doesn't want to see him. nuh-uh.)
(zoro sees things in his dreams, too. ocean eyes and a sly smile. a pale torso, knife in hand and teeth too sharp. he reaches out to see if the other man's hair feels as soft as it looks and he always wakes before he finds out.)
rum doesn't help to loosen the tension that settles against his spine at night, like he's waiting for something. he doesn't know what. anticipation, maybe, would be a better word— but that has a slight positive connotation, and— no. this man might not be a siren, but zoro’s enough of a sailor to know that it sure as hell doesn’t mean he isn’t dangerous.
he can't afford to go off chasing pretty mermen when he has a crew to protect.
*
the ship docks for a few days at a barren island. sanji swims laps around the sandy coast and pretends that the thought of his the sailor being beyond his reach doesn't make an anxious itch ripple beneath his scales.
*
water splashes against the side of the boat, and zoro's at the railing in an instant whether he wants to be or not.
“hello, marimo.”
the merman treads water leisurely, golden hair swirling about his shoulders and gleaming in the faint lantern light. it's early enough after sunset that the stars aren't out yet and it's dark as hell. zoro squints.
a laugh echoes in his ears, light and melodious. already familiar. zoro tries to be mad about that. “a little more to your left, moron.”
“well, i can’t very well fuckin’ see, can i?” he scoffs, and bites back a gasp when the water starts glowing, what the fuck. his stupid heart stutters when he sees him, lit up with gentle blues and yellows from below, flickering with the push and pull of the tide and sweeps of that powerful tail. "hey."
"hello," the mer hums again, lashes long and wet enough that they catch the wavering light. "gonna tell me your name, sailor?"
zoro almost lets it slip. almost. but he bites his tongue as he feels a chill run up the back of his neck; sure enough, a glance over his shoulder confirms that nami is glaring at him. don't do anything stupid, her gaze says, and he turns away with a shudder. their navigator is a threat in her own right. "no."
"okay. marimo it is."
"you— that is insulting," he hisses, because it is. he is roronoa zoro. he came from nothing and made a life for himself out of it. he's one of the best swordsmen on the damn seas and he's part of the best crew he's ever known, and he's been reduced to, what? a floating ball of moss?
"it's accurate," the other man corrects with a smirk. "unless you tell me what else to call you."
zoro fumes, fingertips digging into the taffrail. he's sure his nails are gouging scratches in the wood. "no."
"marimo."
"shut up."
"mosshead."
"shut up!"
"algae-brained, kelp-haired, water cabbage-headed—"
"zoro!"
the mer finally stops, lashes fluttering as something passes over his face.
"my name," he ekes out, "is zoro." nami swears somewhere behind him.
the merman's lips part around the syllables of the word, before he draws in a breath and grins, smug. "okay, marimo."
"wh—?!" zoro throws his hands up in exasperation, scofffing. "you bastard!"
"i asked for your name. never said i would use it."
"you're a piece of shit, blondie."
"call me that again and i'll show you how hard i can bite," the mer sneers with all his teeth on show, blue eyes lit up furious, turning away as he prepares to dive and—
"wait!" zoro yells before he can stop himself, and he curses under his breath. ah, fuck it. already got one foot in it anyway. "what's your name?"
"...oh, darling," the mer sighs, half-amused and airy, his voice slipping away. "you're gonna have to work a little harder for that."
it feels like hours later when zoro steps back with a shaky sigh. the merman reminds him of a strong brandy he’d had what feels like lifetimes ago, burnt caramel and warm sugar and smoke with enough hidden bite to take you by surprise, to sink its teeth into you three shots down. enough to intoxicate if you weren’t careful.
he yelps when nami slaps him across the back of the head, faking a lunge at her with bared teeth even as he rubs a hand over his aching scalp with a huff. her nagging about being more careful barely registers. his hair's getting long; maybe he needs a trim.
(that little voice in the back of his head is wary. hesitant. but now it's asking what if.)
*
the ship docks again. this island is teeming with life, thriving, lush with rich green foliage and thick forestation— and beautiful women who all seem to find zoro the height of masculine appeal, apparently. sanji curls himself into a nook in the coral reef and lets his fins trail in the water, the corner of his mouth ticking up a little when a baby clownfish comes to nibble curiously at his fingertip. he's not sulking. he's not. that would be fucking embarrassing for so many reasons and he refuses to think about even one of them.
it's the first time that he starts to feel a little stupid. it had been all fun and games, in the beginning when he'd upped and left on a whim; curiosity and intrigue and the good old urge to stick his fingers in all the cracks this human had until sanji understood every part of him, laid out in the sand like the skeleton of a great sea beast.
but now he's so far away from home, aimlessly following a ship— no, not even a ship. following one person on a ship for no real reason at all.
the clownfish ducks beneath his hand, and sanji cups it carefully in his palm. "you're lucky you don't have to deal with romance yet," he tells it sagely before gently shooing it out of his hiding spot. the water above ripples. it's dark again; the crew must have returned to their boat for the night. sanji sighs and unfurls his tail.
it honestly seems like blind optimism at this point, but he really hopes he's not being played for a fool.
zoro's there when he surfaces, peering over the railing and backlit by the lanterns. sanji focuses and brings out his bioluminescence until the little cove they're in is filled with coloured light. "marimo."
"swirly brow," zoro greets in return.
sanji raises one said swirly eyebrow. "that's new."
"i've got more. blondie, of course. curly head. fishboy—"
"fishboy?!" he squawks, enraged. "fuck you!"
"you wish."
"more like the ladies did," sanji scoffs, and immediately wants to try drowning himself.
zoro frowns. "the hell you talking 'bout, curls?"
the burst of bitterness at the back of his throat is just enough to take him by surprise and loosen his tongue. "they were hanging off your arm like—" mm. nope. he's not gonna go there.
the swordsman's eyes widen like he's just realised something, and sanji does not like that at all. "you're jealous."
"no."
"you are!"
"fuck you," he spits, gills flaring. "i am not." he has no reason to be jealous. they are nothing. this— there is nothing between them.
zoro just grins. "catch."
a white thing drops downwards and sanji darts forward on instinct to let it fall into his cupped palms. "what, s'this supposed to be a present for me, marimo?"
"it's— yeah."
he opens his mouth to reply, before he realises what exactly it is he's holding.
the water lotus fills his hands, its soft white petals edged in pale pink, velvety against his fingertips. something catches in his throat and he dips beneath the water to submerge his gills, carefully holding the flower aloft. his heart squeezes.
the waves lap at the bridge of his nose, hiding half his face as he watches zoro rub at the back of his neck, uncharacteristically shy. zoro isn't shy. sanji knows this much. he is loud and unabashed and unashamed with everything, with how he lives, with how he talks, with how he loves his crew and everything they entail.
but he looks almost— he's blushing, just a little, red across the tips of his ears as his gaze darts away, looking very much like he's mad at himself. "nami said it means strength and resilience, or something." the breath he huffs is harsh as he scratches at his nape. "i don't know, it's stupid, curly, i just—"
"sanji."
"what?"
"sanji. my name."
sanji doesn't want to know what he looks like as he rises out of the water to cup the flower to his collar. dumb, probably. rightfully so, because all of this is a very dumb decision and it's probably going to end in shambles with his heart broken into pieces in the silt but zoro— he looks up, floating on his back, and zoro's already looking at him with something that could be wonder, if sanji dared to name it.
"where did you get this?" he murmurs, tail fin creating large ripples as he swims a circle, holding the lotus like it's fragile.
"there was a pond full of them on the island. thought you'd like it."
"you don't know what i like." it comes out breathy. his hair melts against his shoulders as he tries to push himself closer, closer, across the space between them, like a fool. "you don't even know me."
and yet, he startles back when zoro jumps the railing, splashing feet-first into the water boots and all and shaking his head like a dog when he resurfaces. sanji shrieks and shields the lotus with his body, everything else momentarily forgotten as he whacks zoro with his tail just hard enough to send the sailor back underwater with a sputtered laugh. "you fucking brute!"
"i want to."
"that made no sense—"
"i don't know you, but i want to." zoro treads closer, and sanji's light ripples off his skin. his eyes are grey. warm granite and the inside of an oyster shell. "will you let me?"
sanji wants. there is nothing between them, but he wants there to be. he wants so hard it hurts. it feels like he's holding his heart in his hands and not a flower. it's the only way to explain how he's suddenly aching, hollow, in the face of something that isn't even a goddamn confession but feels too much like one. there is a flower in his hands and he wants.
“why?”
“dunno.” he gets a shrug, blunt and earnest as ever even as zoro’s mouth twists up at the edge. “maybe i’m charmed.”
he swallows hard, his mouth dry, and he doesn't want to say it but he has to. "if this is some sick thing about me being a mer—"
"wh—? no!" zoro blurts, and he looks so fucking horrified at that moment that it settles something in sanji's stomach instantly. "god, fuck, no. no. it's not like that. i swear on my life."
there are reasons why merfolk don't interact with humans. sanji grew up with the stories. he's seen the skeletons on the sea floor, mangled with the hunting tools of man, incomplete remains of his kin tossed away to their deaths, unable to swim or save themselves— still a better fate than the ones who never returned. the ocean is gentle after the burn of her salt; her waves are familiar, and her children are raised in their push and pull. captivity, at the hands of men for whatever reason, is never so kind.
he inhales sharply as callused hands cup his.
"i'm sorry," zoro says softly, rushed and maybe a little desperate, throat bobbing as his eyes dart across sanji's face. "i'm sorry. i didn't think of that at all."
"good," he finds himself replying as he looks down. "that means it didn't cross your mind."
a muscle ticks in zoro's jaw. "that's fucking sick, curls."
"i know." sanji's tone is matter-of-fact. "but it's what we have to deal with, sometimes." he deflates with a soft huff at the expression on the other man's face, looking away. "if you start saying shit like i'll protect you or whatever, i'm gonna smack you. i can handle myself."
zoro sighs through his nose, slowly, and his hands tighten around sanji's. "i know you can. i've watched you hunt. doesn't mean i can't be mad about it."
his eyebrows go up. "you saw me hunting?"
"mhm," the swordsman hums. "you're strong. fast. resourceful, too."
sanji preens. he knows he is, knows he’s one of, if not the best, but hearing it from zoro is another thing entirely.
"...also, my captain's been begging me to get you to fish for us because we're all crap at it."
that startles a laugh out of him, and he smiles so wide so quick that his cheeks ache. "that can be negotiated."
up this close, it's easy to see that zoro's hair is shorter than it was before, shorn short at the back and blunt enough that it just had to be freshly cut. the possibility of it being for him does something funny to his chest. the dark green strands are spiky, sticking up everywhere now that they're wet, and sanji wants so badly to touch.
he looks down at the flower in their hands, and he doesn't.
"this can't survive in saltwater," he murmurs instead, carefully putting his lotus into zoro's scarred palms. "take care of it for me."
he watches zoro trudge back to shore, one hand with the flower held above his head. he yells, "it better still be alive the next time i come check, marimo!" and he doesn't bother waiting for an answer. he knows zoro heard him.
sanji's gonna play this slow. he's gonna play this smart. and if zoro fucks up, well— he’s on friendly terms with a particular shiver of great whites.
*
zoro does not, in fact, fuck up. but now he’s constantly being given shit about his pretty merman boyfriend and as much as he pretends he hates it, he really doesn’t. luffy takes one look and declares that sanji’s crew now, zoro, you can’t hog him! dinners are now seafood more often then not, mussels and clams and all sorts of fish, even lobster when sanji finds out it’s nami’s birthday, and franky engineers some sort of transportable bathtub to get him on board.
(sanji brings robin around and franky falls all over himself making transportable bathtub 2.0, but that’s not the point.)
*
“bioluminescence, right? am i saying that right?” zoro asks, spinning this way and that as he tries to get a good look at sanji’s glowing tail under the water, eyes wide.
“mhm.” the mer lifts his tail fin out of the water, pulling himself closer so zoro can hold both of them up seeing as the pool they’re in is shallow enough to stand in. zoro’s hands twitch around nervously until sanji reaches out and grabs his wrist, pressing his palm flat to wet scales, and his chest aches at the look on zoro’s face.
the cave they’re in is small enough for every little sound to echo. sanji’s tail drips rhythmically, punctuated by the staggered breath zoro sucks in as he hauls sanji closer with an arm low over his stomach. careful fingers trace over the glowing patterns on his tail, fading upwards into his torso, and zoro slides a palm flat against sanji’s spine to lift him up as he presses their foreheads together.
“beautiful,” he breathes, reverent. the reflections from the water dance off his wet skin, and his eyes are mother-of-pearl.
sanji wants to touch, and so he does. he winds his fingers into zoro’s hair and pulls him down and kisses him, tastes salt and rum and the promise of blood when his teeth catch and zoro doesn’t shy from the bite. for the first time in a long time he is safe enough to let himself drift; his tail drapes itself over zoro’s side like a elaborate feather fan, and he giggles at the mental comparison.
he feels zoro smile at his laughter. feels calluses and gentle hands as zoro carries him back out to sea. tastes love when zoro pulls him in for one last kiss before saying goodbye for the night.
*
it starts with more flowers. then jewellery, intricate metalwork that would be hard to come by under the sea, fishnet cords and crystal pendants and pretty trinket rings, then daggers, silver hairpins with edges sharp enough to slice bone and a particularly beautiful watered-steel knife in a sheath of butter-soft leather. sanji cannot help but feel like he’s being courted, which makes no sense, because zoro knows nothing about merfolk courting traditions.
and then they talk as zoro braids shells into his hair the way perona taught him to (“you didn’t tell me you had a sister?!” “she just never came up!” “what do you mean she just never came up, marimo, what the fuck! this is important?!”) and sanji finds out zoro talked to robin about it, the sneaky bastard.
a tail doesn’t stop him from tackling zoro to the sand to kiss the crap out of him, braids unfinished and hair wound through zoro’s fingers. his heart feels fit to burst when zoro turns to ensure he takes the brunt of the fall because they both know how much sanji hates getting sand stuck in his scales.
*
the first time sanji gets hurt, zoro goes rather frantic.
it’s barely a scratch, just a slice near the base of his tail courtesy of a rock he hadn’t been able to avoid while hunting, but zoro bodily hauls him back to the ship between bouts of very concerned yelling and yanks off the black bandana always on his arm, scrubs it clean in hot water for good measure before wrapping up his wound, all while making sure no parts of sanji were drying out in the tub.
“marimo, i am fine,” sanji stresses for the twentieth time, shifting up to cup zoro’s face and sighing in resignation as zoro just shakes his head again.
“i don’t care,” the swordsman announces, throwing his hands up like deal with it. “i don’t care. no more hunting until this is completely healed.”
“it is a scratch. a scratch.”
“i don’t give a shit. you’re staying with me for the next few days.”
sanji groans and grumbles and bitches about it, and when zoro bickers right back it just riles him up even more.
(he stays put. he lets zoro scoop him into his lap with unnecessary care. he leans into the kisses zoro presses to his temple and he feels like crying because he is grateful. always.)
*
slavers attack the ship. sanji may not be a siren, but that does not mean he isn’t dangerous. he has his tail, and his knives, and his love for his crew. this is his crew.
he drags those slavers into the ocean and drowns them one by one.
*
now, sanji’s friend ivankov is a literal sea witch— so when they toss sanji an amulet and a wink on his birthday, sanji already knows it’s gonna be good.
the amulet gives him fucking legs.
only while he wears it, of course, but when he stumbles out of the surf like a newborn fawn zoro nearly chokes in shock. they spend the day falling over each other laughing as sanji tries to walk. he eats shit more times than he can counts and gets enough sand in his mouth for a lifetime.
later, there is a blanket beneath them and the moon above them and the endless ocean, shimmering under the light as zoro gathers his hair out of his face and kisses him so softly it hurts.
“beautiful,” zoro breathes. he preaches it like the truth. swears it like a promise.
their hands fit, calluses against calluses as zoro thumbs over the tiny patch of scales on sanji’s wrist, iridescent yellow-blue. their fingers lace in a motion they’ve done hundreds of times and still it never feels different than the first.
sanji lays back, and all he sees are stars.
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cupiddzarrow · 8 months ago
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Ragatha 😳😳😳
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A Ragatha drawing, and then some bonus Buttonblossom!!
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theonekierce · 8 months ago
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Midnight Was His Hour - a comic adaptation of E.W. Hornung's Raffles stories
Bunny Manders has nothing left to lose, a revolver in his pocket, and a gambling debt to settle. If paying with his life is not an option, what will A.J. Raffles ask of him? The fact is that it does not matter what Raffles will ask; Bunny will reluctantly be the man for the job. In a previous life, the two boys were schoolmates — but as gentlemen about town, they must join felonious forces in order to maintain their Mayfair lifestyles and Raffles’ public image. There’s nothing very terrible in it, you see.
Hey i've been working on this comic for a few months and what better day to launch than the Ides? The first few pages are up already and the rest of the first story will be going up as i finish them 👀
This is intended as a pretty direct adaptation so you don't need to know anything about the original stories; if you like stealing from the rich, codependent gay drama, and Late Victorian Intrigue™, you're in the right place!
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earth4angels · 2 months ago
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guys i’m serious yall missing out on the jace nation gc, we’re having too much bonding time
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clowningaroundmars · 2 months ago
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thanks to the amazing @starcut-sand for the inspo, i now present to you all... a new multi-chapter adventure! this time featuring our beloved gwen stacy and miles42 :)
no, it's not a ship fic lol but i hope to keep you all entertained nonetheless
this one will update much faster since i've plotted it all out and have drafts written already. so stay tuned for new updates coming soon!
general content warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, kidnapping, drugs, poisoning, death, bullets and explosions, teenagers being teenagers
without further ado, let's get into it!
part 1 of 4 >>
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Gwen woke up in a small, dark room not knowing how much time had passed since she was knocked out cold.
And she knew she was knocked out cold, of course, because even she knew never to take a cat-nap in the middle of a mission.
That she was on currently… if memory served her correctly.
Slowly, painstakingly-- with knives in her ribs and her left shoulder still sore from her earlier encounter-- she sat up. Flicked through her watch to make double-sure that the migraine throbbing in her brain wasn’t tricking her into a vivid hallucination of some kind.
Earth-42 stared right back at her, bright green digital letters dancing and blurring in and out right before her very eyes. When she reached up to touch her forehead in a spot that itched, her glove came away with a bit of dried blood on the white fabric.
Shit.
Gwen could not let Jessica down under any circumstances, especially since this was her first mission since… well, since Miles Morales from earth-1610 came in and single-handedly caused the collapse of the Spider Society as everyone knew it.
Which wasn’t really a bad thing in the end, but it did mean that poor Jess had to step up as the leader shortly after Miguel was forcibly dethroned.
“I’m the interim leader right now,” she would say to anyone who called her “boss” or “CEO” or any variation of the word. The poor woman already had enough on her plate as it was with a newborn and a new family life to tend to, so Gwen understood 100%.
It was also why the pressure was on her shoulders to complete this one tiny, manageable task that was given to her.
Gwen wasn’t stupid. She knew she was on a sort of probationary period after her first blunder on earth-1610. And the fact that she turned her back on the Society to break a couple of rules, help Miles, save the multiverse... well, all of that didn't help matters much.
She ignored the looks cast her way every now and then by other Spiders when visiting HQ, but she knew. She tallied up those glances whether anyone knew of it or not.
But then there was also the stupid feeling of… sentimentality hanging in the air, keeping her chained to the Society when most of her other Spider friends had already abandoned the group.
Yeah, her relationship with her father was… repaired, for the most part. But damn it if she didn’t take a liking to Jessica Drew, too! Sue her.
So here she was, on a mission to visit earth-42 and investigate an anomaly that seemed to threaten the very fabric of space and time. Again.
Gwen was already starting to regret her very dumb, not-very-well-thought out decision to volunteer for this one, though.
No time to complain right now though. We’ve got a problem to solve, Gwen mused, forcing her annoyance, frustration, and panic deep down for the moment.
Her aching brain switched over to Work Mode once again, and she immediately slid into compartmentalizing and sorting every bit of detail that she could manage to remember in the present moment.
Her head was bleeding and throbbing, which meant she sustained a brain injury of some kind. She wobbled unsteadily to her feet, wiggling them and checking on her balance. Her head complained louder, but she seemed to be able to walk just fine.
Okay. Good. It wasn’t a bad injury-- and if it was, it seemed her enhanced healing factor already took care of the majority of it in her sleep.
Alright, time to examine her surroundings now.
While she did so, she found it pretty irritating that while her injury didn’t put her out of commission, it seemed to wipe her entire short-term memory instead.
She eventually sat down on a crate in the corner of the room that she was imprisoned in and with her head in her hands, started sorting even harder through her mental files.
… Nothing.
Well, nothing past the memory of flying through the designated portal she opened back in Jess’s office shortly after receiving her mission assignment. And then landing on top of a familiar-but-not-so-familiar building on earth-42's Brooklyn.
She vaguely remembered the late evening sunset, almost choked out by the various plumes of smoke reaching up to the heavens from the fires that still raged on in parts of the city.
... And then? Nothing else.
Gwen remembered how it was like when earth-1610’s Miles-- her Miles-- ended up in this strange world for the first time, a time that seemed like it was eons ago to Gwen, but couldn’t have been more than a few months ago. The fires were much more numerous, news helicopters everywhere and crime seemingly never-ending.
She couldn’t speak on the crime rates per se, but the place looked a little bit less like the mess she and her Spider Band stumbled into at first.
She distinctly remembered thinking to herself-- before swinging down and heading towards the reports of the anomalies-- that she was glad that the Prowlers seemed to get some things under control. If it was them battling the crime in the first place, that is.
But now there was no time for such thoughts. Wherever the Prowlers happened to be now, they were most likely nowhere near her location. Calling Miles-42 up on her watch would be… distasteful, especially this early in the game.
Especially when she had no idea if he was even available or not. Hm. Maybe she should’ve let Jess ping him and let him know of her arrival as per the usual protocol, but. Oh well.
Too late for that now.
So she stood up again, massaged her shoulder and rolled her neck, and blinked the stars out of her eyes. Time to get to work, for real this time.
She eventually happened upon a door that seemed to lead to the outside, which was really well-hidden against the four walls that enclosed her inside.
The room she was held in wasn’t very big, but it was dark. There was only one tiny little window high up near the ceiling that offered a glimpse up into the night sky beyond.
So it was well past sunset… better than not knowing anything at all, right?
The exit was seemingly hard to get out of, unfortunately. Try as she might, Gwen’s strength alone couldn’t get the giant metal door open. She pushed and pulled on the edges, tried sliding it left and right, tried kicking at it. It didn’t budge.
Whoever trapped her in this… storage closet seemed to know exactly what they were doing, who they were dealing with… whoever they happened to be.
Sinister laughing echoed in the back of her mind as she recalled her run-in with the bad guy but… couldn’t for the life of her remember who he was! So frustrating!
Still, this was earth-42. The baddie could’ve been anyone at all, anyone from the Sinister Six Cartel that she knew still held power on the streets here.
Even with their power slowly slipping from their collective grasps, it wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility that one of those assholes still owned a high-security compound out in the middle of nowhere. It also wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility for one of them to have enough tranquilizers to knock out ten elephants, and use that drug on her to drag her out here.
For all Gwen knew, she was probably miles and miles away from Brooklyn, too. Just great.
No time to despair. Time to concentrate.
Okay, so she couldn’t really get past this gigantic metal door that seemed to be made of some titanium alloy or whatever. That left the small space up high on the wall that probably served as ventilation for the room, only sporting thick metal bars to prevent things from getting in… or out.
Gwen quickly scaled the wall and eyed the dimensions of the space before deciding that if she got the metal grating off of the concrete wall, she might be able to squeeze her shoulders through and possibly achieve freedom.
Assuming as well, of course, that the security in this building was easy to get past.
But she would rather take her chances with evil police-drones and bumbling goons than sit another minute in this prison waiting to see who exactly captured her.
Gwen got to work, using her super-strength to painstakingly detach the grates corner by corner, trying to stay as quiet as possible. She bent a few bars in the process, but what was a little property damage to a Spiderperson? No big deal.
If the bad guy who kidnapped me wanted his compound to be spotless and damage-free, he shouldn’t have kidnapped me in the first place, Gwen reasoned.
After what felt like hours, the grating was off. She was free! Now all she had to do was--
Gwen’s heart almost leaped out of her throat and into her mask when glowing purple and white eyes suddenly came into view. They narrowed into slits.
“Jesus Chr--!!! What the…” her brain fully booted up this time, taking a second to stare right back into the glowing eyes of...
“Miles?” She gasped, once it hit her.
The glowing eyes blinked once before finally nodding at her. He raised a metal claw to his mask’s mouth in a universally-recognizable gesture.
Shhhhh.
Gwen’s own giant white eyes blinked back at him before shifting out of the way to allow Miles to extend a begauntleted arm into the room through the window and shoot out… something.
A spark of purple lit the room up, and shortly after, a clattering of glass and plastic resonated through the room before the place fell deathly quiet once more.
“There was a camera in there with you, most likely recording audio, too,” Miles offered as an explanation.
“… Oh. Well, thanks.” Gwen said awkwardly.
So she was wrong. Somehow, in the middle of the night in this odd prison she woke up in, Miles Morales happened to find her anyhow.
She wasn’t used to… this other Miles, and they hadn’t spoken much after their first meeting months ago.
He would join the Spider Band on their own missions sparingly. As far as she knew, only 1610’s Miles hung out with him with any sort of regularity. The kid was a complete mystery to everyone else otherwise, and whenever he was brought up around 1610, the topic was usually brushed off as casually as possible.
Gwen had no clue why 42’s Miles didn’t seem to take a liking to any of the members of their little motley crew. She figured he probably had a hard time keeping up with super-powered heroes and just left it at that, even though from what she could see of their encounters-- however far and few between they were-- the kid seemed to have talent. He was able to keep up with them on most days without barely breaking a sweat.
So all in all, a total mystery to her. Even if this guy shared the same face as her best friend and ally Miles Morales, he... moved differently. Acted differently. Like Miles Morales, but in a different font.
He started to shimmy his shoulders into the room to get past the tight constraints of the window. Gwen stared at him with a cocked head the entire time.
He used his sneakers to cling onto the wall for a little bit, reaching right back out of the window once inside. He pulled in a backpack through the opening and promptly dropped down onto the cold hard floor of the room.
“Uh, hi? Wait. Weren’t we supposed to both escape through that window instead of you, y’know, coming inside?”
Miles-- well, 42--shook his head as he threw his pack back on in one swift motion. “I checked the perimeters, and we’re a long, long ways away from the city. Even if we managed to get past the millions of goons and cameras everywhere, they got dogs doing night shifts out in the woods.”
Gwen’s heart sank. Shit. Her earlier thoughts were coming true. They were far away from Brooklyn, which complicated their escape plans even more.
“I mean… ugh, I-- we can climb the trees! Right? If we just--”
“The guards, Gwen. They got guns loaded up with bullets. But you know what I got? A plan.”
Gwen blinked back at 42 yet again. “You do?”
42 took confident steps back as he put some distance between them and then triple-tapped the side of his mechanical mask. Gwen watched with awe as the front of the mask sectioned itself up and off of his head, revealing a laser-focused expression on Miles’ handsome face-- er, his regular, normal, totally-not-good-looking face!
From somewhere on his mask, a bright purple hologram was projected between them, suspended in mid-air. The lights cast the entire room in a hazy purple glow.
The hologram projected a 3D blueprint-like map of the entire building-- all 5 stories of it. Each floor was meticulously detailed, down to the various entrances and exits and relative dimensions of the many, many rooms the building held.
42 tapped his mask again, this time on the chin, and a maze-like structure materialized, all of it hovering on top of each other and weaving themselves in between the floors… a maze-like structure that seemed very, very familiar.
“Vents!” Gwen snapped her fingers once she recognized them. “You have the blueprints of all the ventilation shafts in the building!”
42 nodded, the projection bobbing along with his movements. “Yeah, I do. I’m a Prowler, right? We always stay prepared.”
Gwen squinted at him. “I guess...? How’d you get stuck in this place if you’re always prepared, then? Did you get kidnapped too?”
“Nah,” 42 answered easily, a corner of his mouth quirking up for a split second, “I followed you here.”
Gwen blinked at him for what seemed to be the umpteenth time. "What."
42 sighed. “You got knocked out by this dimension’s Doctor Octopus. He threw you into the back of a van and ordered his goon squad to bring you back up here, to a secret location he’s got surrounded by energy dampeners and signal blockers. Most likely? He knows you’re not from this dimension and wants to experiment on you. But me? I’m here ‘cause me and my uncle have been lookin’ for this place for months. It’s… top-secret, this compound. Classified.”
“Oh. How did… how did you know he’d bring me to the place you and your uncle have been looking for this whole time? What if he brought me to another building?”
42 smirked, the purple lights of the holograms twinkling in his eyes. “Doc’s assets are being… uh, slowly compromised by us with the underground resistance. Not many places for him to throw his unwilling science experiments into nowadays.”
So it wasn’t just Gwen’s imagination. This dimension really has been steadily cleaned up by the Prowlers and their freedom-fighting allies. Well, that was good to hear. Still didn’t provide much relief for their current situation considering this was Doctor Octopus they were talking about here, but it was still nice to know.
“Well. That’s great to hear, then. What’s the rest of your plan, after ducking out of here through the vents?”
42’s mask re-formed back onto his face and the glowing purple and white eyes came back online. “We’re not ducking through the vents. Well, yet. I came here on my own mission and I gotta complete it before leaving.”
Gwen sighed softly. “Which would be...?”
Getting the whole story out of this version of Miles was like pulling teeth! Was it always going to be like this? Because if so, this wasn’t going to be a very easy mission to pull off after all.
“I can get you out of here first, if you want,” 42 glowered at her, voice distorting behind his mask’s voice-changing technology. His tone seemed impatient, too. “I can stay behind ‘til I’m done.”
Gwen shifted her weight onto one leg. “No, not a chance. I have to stay here and make sure Doc Ock doesn’t turn you into minced meat. Plus, you’re the one who has all the blueprints and cool glowing tech thingies. I’m sticking with you until we can both get out of here!”
This seemed to satisfy 42, because he gave her one unreadable nod in her direction. “… If you’re sure, then let’s go.”
He moved swiftly, much more gracefully than Gwen was used to seeing a Miles move. He walked almost silently, crouching down near one side of the wide metal sliding door thing that Gwen was trying to unsuccessfully pry open earlier.
He reached back into his gear that was saddled on his back and pulled out what seemed to be a small metal object with tiny purple lights on the outer edge. It attached itself onto the door and then 42 was sliding a hidden panel that Gwen had completely missed.
Gwen eventually sidled up to him and clasped her hands behind her back. “I see we’re sticking real well to the branding here. Purple lights, purple holograms… very cool,” was her lame attempt at lightening the mood.
“Yeah, it’s a family thing,” 42 muttered as he worked on… what seemed like some electrical circuitry built into the door. It glowed a soft green. “Been passed down for a couple of generations.”
Gwen hummed. “Oh, I see.”
A beat of silence as 42 continued his work.
Gwen checked her watch once more as she leaned on a wall. “Soooo… should I be doing something while you… y’know…?”
“Yeah, you should be quiet.” 42 answered.
“Ouch.” Gwen replied back as flatly as she could. “Look. I don’t wanna step all on your toes or anything while you do this whole… Prowling thing, but we’re a two-man team here! I’m at the very least trying to make conversation,”
“Okay, sure,” 42 replied easily, never taking his eyes off of his task. “Why are you in my dimension in the first place? Since you like to talk so much, maybe you can tell me that.”
Gwen sighed loudly. Great. Here she was trapped in a bad guy’s compound in the middle of who-knows-where, with the meanest Miles in the entirety of the multiverse. Just her luck.
“I was sent here on a mission. By Jessica. You know, the other other Spiderwoman? Who’s now in charge of the Spider Society, by the way? Yeah, we detected anomalies here in this dimension and she sent me to check it out. But… well, I kinda already screwed that up so I guess I can go and kiss my Society membership goodbye for good this time. Happy?”
42 glanced up at her then, his mask as unreadable as ever, the darkness enshrouding much of his body language. He slowly stood up and backed up, silently gazing at Gwen all the while.
She stood there glaring at him with her arms crossed.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m happy.” 42 finally replied coolly. “Now keep quiet, we don’t know if there are guards out here on patrol. My mask is still calibrating its infrared heat sensors so I can’t see ‘em yet.”
Infrared heat sensors? God, is this kid packed to the teeth with high-tech spy gadgetry or what?
Gwen begrudgingly did as she was told, taking a couple of steps back as 42 lowered the brightness of his mask’s glow.
The door rumbled open with a mechanic hum, and that’s when it hit her; Gwen couldn’t have possibly gotten the door open by herself, because it wasn’t just locked… it was hooked up to a main power source and sealed that way.
Damn. Looks like she really did need to rely on this guy to escape this place, after all.
Well then.
They poked their heads out of the dark room and quietly surveyed the expansive maze-like hallways of the compound. Pipes running the entire length of the ceiling as far as they could see told them both everything they needed to know.
42 took a quick step back to update his mask’s digital blueprint and map out exactly where they were.
Gwen glanced back at him. “What’re you doing now?”
“I'm marking where we are...” He then drops his voice to a near whisper, eyes still methodically scanning the area around them. "This compound's built into the side of a steep hill, which is how I climbed in. We must be on the north side, then."
He tapped his mechanical claws on the tip of his chin and started thinking aloud. “Which means… what I’m lookin’ for has to be underneath the ground, towards the south. I’m lookin’ for a room not on the blueprints. And... and I think I know exactly where to start.”
“You think you know? I thought you had a plan!”
“I do,” 42 threw back. “An escape plan. But you’re stickin’ with me, so now we’re gonna do some Prowlering. Unless you changed your mind?”
Oh, right. This game. Well, this kid wasn’t getting rid of her that easily, that was for sure.
“Oh no, no. Just making sure you’re capable of getting out of here, is all,” she offered innocently.
42 might’ve rolled his eyes behind his mask, but it was hard to tell.
Together, they moved through the halls as silently as possible, straining their ears for any sign of human life-- or robot life, really-- as they quickly made their way down several wide corridors.
All of the halls started blurring together since they all looked completely identical to Gwen, save for the numbers on the various doors they passed by changing and getting smaller as they advanced.
After several minutes had passed, Gwen wanted to open her mouth and ask 42 where exactly they were heading to since it didn’t seem like their trip was even coming anywhere close to an end, when he suddenly grabbed her and pulled her around a corner they had just walked past seconds earlier.
Gwen made a slight noise of confusion and then sucked in a breath when the sound of metal clanging and machines whirring echoed all around them. 42 was closest to the corner, head turned over to where she suspected the intruders were coming from.
Sure enough, a pair of heavy work boots stamped gracelessly down the halls and the casual back-and-forth between the men that suddenly came into view could be heard more clearly.
“… Can’t believe he’s got us down here working doubles now, man! Sucks,” one of the men grumbled as they made their way past the two vigilantes and opened yet another giant metal door with a keycard.
Gwen’s vision zeroed in on it as the man reached behind him to tuck it back into his pocket, and her split-second reflexes allowed her to time her web just right.
She snagged the card and held a breath as the door whirred shut right behind the men, both of them none the wiser.
“Whew,” she said after a second of tense waiting, and smirked at 42 who held a metal claw out for the keycard. “Look who’s got a plan now! Aren't you glad I stuck around?”
42 chuckled, the sound warbling slightly under his voice modulator. “Yeah, that was pretty cool. I can admit that. Now that we got this, we might be able to use it to get into the room I wanna get into once we find it.”
“Right,” Gwen pipes up once they continue their descent deeper into the bowels of the compound, “about that. You never told me what it is that you came here to find. In fact, you’ve been pretty cagey this entire time. Like, about everything.”
42 made an undecipherable sound. “Uh, yeah. This is my recon mission, not yours. You’re not even from this dimension, this doesn’t really concern you.”
Gwen grunted. “Gee thanks. If that’s how you feel, then I’ll be having my keycard back!”
42 shook his head and laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that, man. I meant… just don’t worry about it. It’s info we’re looking for to eventually take down Doc Ock. If I said it out loud here, it might jeopardize this whole thing me and Aaron have planned. I'm in work mode right now, I'm sure you get it,”
Gwen relaxed a bit more. In a way, she did get it. She even understood 42’s hesitance to have her aboard to work with him, since working on group projects wasn't exactly on her own list of top ten favorite things… especially when the project itself concerned the very fabric of the space-time continuum.
Gwen was a solo hero, and maybe since 42 was here on his own, he finally graduated into being a solo hero, too.
Actually, on that topic…
“Does your… does your uncle know you’re here, then? If he does, maybe he can help us get out of here?”
42 helped himself to a healthy pause. “Yes, and no. Aaron’s not… here, near the compound. But he does know I’m out on a mission.”
Gwen stared at him. “Sooo… call him? I’m sure he can get past security, right?”
42 laughed yet again, shaking his head. “Guess you didn’t hear me back in the other room when I told you there are blockers all over this compound, huh.”
Gwen cocked an eyebrow at him and their lenses met.
“What I mean is,” 42 continues, “tech down here doesn’t work very well due to all the interference the Doc’s put up to conceal this place. Again, top secret. Super classified. My own mask took a little while to come back online, and some stuff is still… coming back online. Kinda."
“And your communicators wouldn’t happen to also be on the fritz, would they?” Gwen asked, fully knowing the answer she was going to get.
“Mmnnyep, communicator’s offline. I dunno what the hell Doc’s got this place running on, but it’s not electricity. I’m not too concerned about the details, though,”
Here, they came up to a wide metal door marked in bright caution-tape stripes with several warnings plastered on its surface.
“... ’Cause I got my eyes on the prize,” 42 finished, swaggering up to the door’s keycard panel and successfully getting the thing to slide open.
They both fell into fighting stances in case anything behind the door leapt out at them and attacked, but… there was no one and nothing in the spacious cave-like room beyond it.
Nothing except… a humongous collider!
Gwen gasped as she lowered her fists and advanced forward, making her way over thick wires and past computers to get closer to the giant dimension-ripping machine in the center of the room.
It looked… not quite as high-tech as the one in her dimension, or Miles’-- er, 1610’s collider, that is-- but it was completely unmistakable. The form never changes, neither through space nor through time. It was indeed a collider built by none other than the infamous Doctor Octopus, even if it didn’t quite look as close to being complete.
There were still various wires draped on ladders near the edge of the lab, scissor-lifts located below the platforms parked for the night, and several components were missing that seemed to lay underneath odd-looking bulgy sheets on top of several tables nearby. Gwen made her way over to a computer and woke it up, balking at the password-locked screen in front of her eyes.
Damnit. Damnit! It wasn’t just an anomaly that the Society managed to detect… it was the energy signals from this collider, most likely having gone through some initial tests before advancing to this final stage of construction.
If this was it, then Gwen needed to get back to Jess with this information ASAP!
She fiddled with her watch a bit, but it still looked to be on the fritz somehow, not letting her switch to any other dimension or access the other features Hobie had installed into it. Weird.
She straightened up and glanced behind her, hoping that 42 had some kind of tech or knowledge that would help crack this computer open so she could take a look through the files to gauge just how far along this little pet project was… only to find that she was alone.
... Alone?
"Miles?"
Silence. Her heart jumpstarted a bit and started hammering away in her chest as she hurriedly made her way past rows of tables, science equipment, and computer screens of all sizes, only to find a pair of legs sticking out from underneath a weird car-shaped machine set aside in the corner of the gigantic lab.
She stood there for a bit with her hands on her hips, quieting her thoughts and watching as 42 tinkered away at whatever the hell he was tinkering away at.
She eventually kicked a purple Jordan gently and smiled bemusedly at 42 shuffling his way out from under the machine.
“Having fun down there?” She said as casually as she could manage.
42’s mask was off slightly, still framing his face, but now Gwen could see his slightly exasperated expression in full view.
“Yeah, actually, I was.” He gave her a full view of his snarky attitude too, while he was at it.
He laid back down and pushed his way underneath once more.
“Is this gigantic collider in the middle of this room not a huge concern to you at all?”
“Not really.” 42 answered from under the machine.
“Can I ask why? You do know that if the Octopus gets this thing done and booted up, that your entire dimension is at risk of collapsing just like every other dimension that’s had a collider in it before?”
“Really? Ya don't say,” 42 replied sarcastically, clinking and clanking away. The machine rattled a bit. “That’s nowhere near done right now and I gotta prioritize my priorities. I’m getting to root cause of the problem rather than just climbing in here and smashing stuff up.”
“… Are you now?” Gwen deadpanned.
A mighty metallic scraping sound jolted its way through her eardrums suddenly, making Gwen jump slightly. After a second or two, 42 slides out once again with a big sunny grin plastered onto his face, holding up what looks like a small motherboard with a bunch of metal wires still attached to the metal casing it was screwed into. He only wore one gauntlet, she noted.
He quickly took his pack off and got to work inlaying the computer part into a panel in his pack that she had never noticed before.
A total tech marvel that thing was, really. Even Gwen had to make a noise of approval when with a few purposeful jabs and swipes, the whole pack disengaged and unfolded itself open, much like his mask. No tools required.
He made quick work of the task at hand, using one metal gauntlet as a makeshift toolset, his other gloved hand working to set the entire component into the rest of the pack’s inner workings.
Once that seemed to be done, all of the circuitry glowed purple for a beat before going dark once more. 42 tapped at his gauntlet, bringing up more info on the inside of his wrist, which he seemed to approve of.
“All set?” Gwen probed, still standing a little ways away from him, watching as he seemed completely engrossed in his little side-mission.
He reached back under the machine and pulled out his other gauntlet, springing back up once it was in his hands.
“Yeah. Better than all set, ‘cause now my pack’s online! I can use my climbing gear again.” At this, 42 unlatches a reel of rope from behind him, his grappling hook dangling on one end as he swings it in circular motions through the air. “Hell yeah,”
Gwen stared at him once again. “Your climbing gear wasn’t working? How did you climb into my window, then?”
42 gave her a bit of side-eye. "I got other gear besides my rope, you know that, right?"
Gwen huffed, clearly annoyed. "No, actually I don't. I've been following you this whole time and you haven't really been saying much at all,"
42’s mask slid back into place as he rolled his shoulders and readjusted his pack. “You ask too many questions,”
“You don’t provide too many answers,” Gwen bit out dryly. “Seriously, dude, we are in the middle of giant evil lair of some kind with no way to communicate with the outside world and you’re swaggering through this whole ordeal like it’s a walk in the park,” she huffs. “Why can’t you just tell me like, anything?”
They’re both face-to-face now, mask-to-mask, very obviously frustrated with each other if the electricity in the air was as thick as it felt.
Two teenagers butting heads in the middle of a giant lab, trapped in the lair of their greatest enemy… it would embarrassing if it wasn’t so absurd, but here they were, glaring each other down anyways.
“I am telling you things, you just don’t listen! Probably ‘cause you think your powers make you all-powerful and omniscient or something, that you think you don't need to listen to a word I'm saying,” 42’s words dripped with venom. “Seriously, staying with me to make sure I don’t get myself killed? Gimme a damn break. If sticking with me is soooo boring and you know more than I do, you can get yourself up out of here, then.”
Gwen bristled. “Listen here, jerk. I never said that I was better than you. Kinda telling on yourself there, don'tcha think?” She jabbed a finger in his direction. “I was perfectly capable of letting myself out before you fell in here and got us all turned around! I had it on my own, I could've gotten myself out of here ages ago!"
“And who’s stopping you?” 42 threw his hands up in the air. “Use your little spider powers to bust up out of here, and just leave!"
Gwen stepped back, seething. With fists clenched by her sides, she shoots 42 more daggers his way, hoping her mask’s lenses would convey the message.
Wordlessly, she turns around and shoots a web up to one of the ventilation grates high up in the cavernous room, sticking to the wall.
She works the grating off while 42’s Jordans pace right out of the room and into another side room, leaving the lab completely silent.
Fine. If that was how things were going to be, then fine. This was hardly the worst situation Gwen’s ever found herself in, and it most likely wasn't going to be over anytime soon. But she’s gotten herself out of stickier conundrums on her own, so this was just going to be yet another one of life’s little tests. Just a bump in the road.
A small, insignificant little bump.
As Gwen quietly seethed and crawled her way through the ventilation shafts (completely blindly, since she didn’t really bother to memorize the absolute maze that was whatever 42 showed her earlier) she came upon a vent opening that overlooked a room filled with monitors and… guards.
It looked to be a security room not too far from the collider room, and the men inside were armored to the teeth, only slipping off their helmets and masks to chat some shit over takeout containers and coffee cups.
The rest of the room was covered in tv monitors that showed various different CCTV camera feeds, all of them stationary. Most of them were pointing to the outside, though, hardly any of the screens showed views from the basement level’s numerous corridors, curiously enough.
Gwen doubted 42’s earlier claim that this building ran on some other form of power, since she didn’t think it would be very economic on the Octopus’ wallet to buy so many cameras and monitors and computers that ran on alternate power sources.
Maybe… if he was wrong… then maybe she could even use her watch to open up a portal in an empty room somewhere and just peace out!
Tell Jess what she found, because by now she’d pretty much done her job. Leave the rest to a more capable task force put together by the Society and just go back to her normal, boring, definitely not eventful life.
But then… as tempting as the thought was… she’d be leaving 42 behind. 42, sure, but a Miles nonetheless… a friend.
From what she could gather, the poor guy had very few friends, if any at all. If he wasn’t communicating to her properly, maybe isolation from his vigilante work was to blame, rather than a fault of his character.
Gwen propped up her chin in one hand and ruminated on all of these thoughts, arguing with herself over whether she should stay or go. She glanced at her cobbled-up watch, a permanent reminder of her best friend Hobie Brown, and laid on her back to mess with it one more time.
Her thoughts sunk down into the bottom of her stomach as she fiddled with it, continuing to get error messages as she tried to scroll through the various dimensions she knows she’s saved to her little watch, coming up with nothing even when she dared to try and open a portal in the middle of the vent shaft.
Nothing, nada. No dice. No portal whatsoever happened to materialize. It gave small sad beeps instead, really hammering home that… she really was on her own this time.
Damn.
Gwen didn’t know why, but this thought kind of depressed her.
At least on previous missions and patrols in her dimension, she was always acutely aware of how much rested on her own shoulders. She always went in with confidence and some sort of game plan, content enough to just let her quick thinking and powers get her out of any fight, any problem.
But ever since landing here on earth-42, she seemed… discombobulated, not entirely in her element. Everything in this dimension seemed to work against her at every single turn.
She’d have to bring that up to the other Spiders, ask if they’ve ever felt anything like she was feeling before.
If she could get out of this building in the first place, that is…
A loud, jarring alarm jolted her violently out of her wandering thoughts, and she almost hit her head on the ceiling of the vent, rolling over quickly to peer down into the room below her.
The guards were pulling helmets and masks on, scrambling up from their previous positions and pouring out of the security room door as quickly as they could.
In the midst of the sudden chaos, Gwen’s wide eyes honed in on one particular screen, which was pointed directly at the collider room’s interior…
... And directly at earth-42’s Miles Morales himself.
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cjaus · 5 months ago
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porky minch my beloved, i hate you, youre so beautiful, i want to kill you with a metal pipe,
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