#other ppls ocs implied but not seen

[burinazar]

i love Bel Thorne so much actually

earlier i was in the comments section of a fic featuring it where the author had noted its pronouns in the A/N

and there were so many people in the comments basically saying 'even if i don't understand it i'll treat people who prefer this set of pronouns with respect and address those individuals with it/its', essentially because Bel had made them consider this

whereas elsewhere even in spaces that are explicitly supposed to be accepting of Gender Things Going On you see people who are perfectly fine with all sorts of other neopronoun sets being extremely rude and self righteous about this one

[nikkeora]

High Enough (Without the Mary Jane)

summary; 'in every other universe, gwen stacy falls for spider-man. and in every other universe, it doesn’t end well'. you don't want to be a mary jane anymore.

or, in which you were the mindy s. mcpherson to miles's prowler

pairing(s); e-1610! Miles Morales x fem!reader, e-42! Miles Morales x fem!reader (r is referred to with she/her pronouns, no physical description.)

warning(s); fem spanish terms are used ('hermosa' etc.), reader’s hand is smaller than Miles’. author can’t write action sequences for shit.

may be ooc but we haven't seen a whole lot of p!miles yet so there isn’t really much to go off of

implied/mentioned parental issues with reader, not proofread, written (mostly) at ao3 hours

a/n; according to google the sinister 6 of e42 are doc oc, vulture, electro, rhino, sandman and scorpion, although i've seen some other ppl say that the eastereggs are vulture, rhino, scorpion, sandman, shocker, kraven and electro. i'm going w the google one, maybe kraven and shocker are their own thing. also they're prolly rich aholes since their signs are on buildings n stuff, so that's what i went with.

also reader was sent to earth 42, but like, a few days before 1610 miles arrives, kind of like how gwen was sent to 1610 a week before she found miles

Miles — or, who you assumed was Miles, anyway — took you back to his place, going out of his way to avoid alleys where there weren't many people around and sticking to the bigger streets. You found it kind of weird. Back home, you and Miles used to cut through backstreets and even some sketchy buildings all the time to make it home before curfew.

You felt him steal glances at you the whole walk, and you’d be lying if you didn’t do the same.

This version of him just felt so.. different.

Once the two of you reached your destination, he let you up the stairs first before quietly calling for you to stop once you reached his floor. You hesitated for a moment on the steps. It was a higher level than Miles’s flat back home, and the building had looked a lot different from what you’d seen just half an hour ago, even if it still felt familiar. You’d chalked it up to the multiverse doing multiverse things at first, but he was starting to act a little off.

Having been around your Miles for years, you knew all his tells. You could see how his weight shifted on his feet as he unlocked the door. You could see he was overall standing straighter and more tense. You could see the hesitation before he turned the key.

Miles was lying to you. And he felt guilty.

But what were you going to do?

This universe was new to you. Sure, everything seemed just about the same, but it was all so foreign at the same time. There where skyscrapers you’d never seen before, new graffiti on the streets of the same couple people over and over again - all of whom you were sure you’d seen somewhere before but couldn’t quite grasp where. The sight of buildings blocked by yellow tape and more in the process of repair after seemingly being burned down or blown up were common in this world, like it was an active war zone or something.

You really didn’t have a choice but to follow along.

He opened the door and waved you in, closing the door rather hastily after the both of you.

You took a glance around the room. There were metal bars on the windows, to keep people out or trap them in you couldn't quite figure. There was a DJ setup near them that looked awfully familiar. Hooks hung down from the unfinished ceiling, some holding chains and others oddly shaped items haphazardly wrapped with what looked like brown lunchbag paper. Wires and ventilation just about everywhere, most of the wires leading to either monitors or gadgets you assumed were in the progress of being built. An old, beat up couch and some gym gear by the wall, an open kitchen-slash-workshop area straight ahead.

The only source of light was the neon red from the signs outside the window, and even then the farther bits of the apartment remained a dark purple hue.

Then someone came out of the other room.

“What's this?”

The hell—?

From the shadows, Aaron Davis emerged.

His beard was more grown out then you'd ever seen, and his features looked sharper, almost rougher. His shoulders seemed more broad, though maybe that was the heavy jacket he wore making him look bigger than he actually was.

“¿Tío?”

Miles had taken you around to his uncle's a couple of times, which you now realized was why you recognized this place. Aaron raised an eyebrow at you, surprise flashing across his face before it was quickly wiped out. He looked over you, taling in your appearance.

“Miles.” He asked again.

“I dunno,” the boy replied, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets and avoiding his uncle's gaze. “Just found her on the way home.”

“Found her?”

Aaron glanced at you, then back to Miles, then back to you, his eyebrows furrowed in either confusion or frustration. He finally looked back at his nephew, the two of them having a silent conversation you couldn’t read.

“…Fine.” Aaron sighed, turning around—

You felt like you were dying, or being born, or possibly both at the same time. For a split second, you were nothing but particles, your skin and bones and just about everything being ripped apart then sewn back together. Your vision was a mix between TV static and rapid fire neon colors, and it was about the same deal with your hearing (which was concerning, since you couldn't usually hear colors).

Miles had taken a step forward, letting you grab his arms to keep you from falling over as he said something you couldn’t quite hear. Aaron had whipped around so fast you wondered how it didn’t give him whiplash, fists at the ready in case he needed them.

“What was that?” Miles’s voice finally got through to you, the high-pitched screaming in your ears dying down. You blinked at him as your mind went blank.

“I don’t—” You cut yourself off. Wait, was it..? Had you just..?

“Complete cellular decay.” You recalled Miles’s countless retellings of the multiversal mess that had happened just about two years ago. “I’m glitching, aren’t I?”

“Right, and you know this because..?” Aaron asked, his hands now at his sides but not eased yet. He eyed your face as if he was expecting you to grow a third eye or something. Honestly, you couldn’t blame him.

“Okay, so, this might sound crazy,” You started, “but I’m from another dimension.

“We had something like this happen back home a while back — except, y’know, people came into our dimension rather than people from ours going somewhere else.

“The people that came, they were glitching, too. Their atoms were displaced and decaying.”

“So you’re saying,” Miles spoke up, his grip tightening around your forearms just slightly. “If you stay here too long—”

“I’ll die, yeah.” You said, the reality of the situation hitting you like a KTX. “Disintegrate, to be more accurate.”

Silence filled the flat as all three of you processed the information. Miles was frozen, his gaze fixated on the spot where your hands grabbed onto him as if he was scared you’d disappear if he looked away. Aaron crossed his arms, his eyes darting from left to right like he was reading some invisible text.

As for you, you felt unreal. Your body didn’t feel like your own anymore, your vision more like looking at the screen of a first-person shooter. Were you going to die here? You didn’t want to die yet. What would your dad think? Would he file a police report? Would Miles’s dad send out a search party to look for you? And Miles—

You hadn’t even said goodbye to him at the party.

You hadn’t said goodbye to anyone.

I don’t wanna die I don’t wanna die I don’t wanna die I don’t—

“Hey,” Miles says, his voice softer than earlier, snapping you out of your spiral. His hands slide down your forearms and slip into your own, giving them a firm squeeze. “No vas a morir.”

You’re not gonna die.

“Te llevaré a casa.” The boy said, his deep brown eyes bore into yours, slowly bringing you back from feeling like you’re looking at a video game to feeling more like you’re lucid dreaming. It wasn’t a total fix, but it’s a start. “I’ll get you home, I promise.”

You took a deep breath, trying and failing to ground yourself more.

“What’s five things you hear?” Miles asked gently, tilting his head and leaning ever so slightly closer to you. You just blinked, overwhelmed with everything.

“Mi vida,” he said again. “Five things.”

You paused for a moment.

Sirens outside.

Yelling from the streets.

Chains clinking in the breeze from the open window.

Aaron shuffling around in the other room. When had he left?

The buzzing of the lights overhead.

“Good.” Miles said encouragingly. “Now, four things you see.”

Miles.

A pan on the kitchen stove.

The DJ table by the windows.

Tio Aaron pulling out the couch to make a sofa bed.

“Three things you can touch here.”

Miles.

The ground if you bent down, you guessed.

Some trinkets on the table just over there, but you’re not gonna touch that.

“Two you can smell?”

Rusted metal. There’s tons of it around; on the walls, the ceiling, tables, even on the shelves. What was that chest plate doing back there, anyway?

That pool smell, which is kinda gross since it came from the chlorine in pool water mixed with all the gross stuff that came from human bodies.

Miles smiled as you said that. “Vuelves a mí, mi sol.” He squeezed your hands again. “One thing you can taste.”

“I dunno, soda? We had a ton of it at the party.” You wiggled your fingers. It was like you were stepping into your body for the first time — nothing was a perfect fit just yet, like a pair of knitted gloves with too much room at the ends of the fingers. You’d have to get used to it again.

It’s then that Aaron called Miles over, the boy reluctantly leaving your side and following his uncle to the other room. He told you to make yourself comfortable on the couch before he went, though, so that’s exactly what you did. The spring cushions feel oddly comforting under you, the familiarity of home twisted just slightly out of proportion.

There’s really nothing to do alone here. You tapped your fingers on your leg. Thankfully, Miles and Aaron came back after just a few minutes.

The first thing the boy said to you, “I’m gonna get you home.” A firmer, more certain repetition of his promise from a minute ago, albeit there’s a bit of a strain in his voice as if it physically hurt him to say it. In a clumsy yet swift motion, he quickly leaned down and kissed your cheek before making his exit rather hurriedly.

You felt the heat rush to your face, your hand coming up almost immediately to touch the spot.

Aaron chuckled and shook his head.

“So,” he said. “You as smart as she was, too?”

-

You tinkered with the gauntlet of a prototype suit that Aaron had dug out of storage somewhere, the man himself working on the main body. The helmet — or was it more of a mask? It was a bit bulkier than Miles's Spider-Man mask, a bit more tech-y. Probably more similar to an Iron Man helmet, now that you think about it, albeit lower in its level of advancement — was plugged into one of the many monitors strewn about the flat.

You'd managed to pry a couple bits of information out of him for the past few hours (during which you hadn't glitched again, thankfully) in exchange for some of your own. So far you knew that this universe’s Jefferson Morales had passed away a few years ago, prompting Miles to take on the mantle of the Prowler to avenge his father’s death — the details of which he stayed frustratingly vague on — and, later on, to keep the city as safe as he could.

“Wait, wait, who’s your Spider-Man, then?”

“Who’s Spider-Man?”

You blinked in confusion. “What? You don’t have a Spider-Person?”

“What, like, a part-spider guy? Nah. Scorpion’s mostly bug though, that count?”

This dimension didn’t have a Spider-Man. That was why the city was so overrun with bad guys.

You gave him a general rundown of the whole ‘radioactive spider’ thing and moved on.

Your own variant, who was Miles’s best friend and had helped make a lot of his gear, had disappeared a while after the Prowler started taking out some bad guys that were a step above villain-of-the-week, the ones who had all sorts of shady connections. Hearing about your presumed death was a strange experience.

“We know they took her,” The older man had said, jamming his screwdriver into a faulty part of the suit. “But the cops are all in on it ever since the Cartel bought ‘em out. Declared her dead after less than 24 hours.”

Oh, speaking of, apparently there was a team of villains bringing Gotham to life in New York, Brooklyn being the heart of it all. How fun.

The Sinister Six Cartel, as the Bugel had dubbed them, was the one Aaron and Miles believed to be behind your variant’s disappearance. The two were certain that the Cartel had worked out a connection between you and the Prowler. The nail on the coffin was when they sent a body double of you in the Prowler’s direction to mess with his head just a couple months ago, complete with some sort of Face Off style mask that made it possible for the fake to look exactly like you. It was only a day or two before Miles figured out it was a setup, but it had shaken him up pretty bad.

“I thought you were another one.” He’d admitted. “But then you did the whole glitchy thing. Looked horrible, by the way, real nasty. It hurt much?”

“You have no idea.”

In return, you told him about home. You told him how Miles’s dad was up for a promotion, practically Captain already. You told him about your Miles’s art and how he made a mural of him after his death. You didn’t go into too much detail about the ‘death’ part, focusing more on the peaceful aspects since it was so clearly missing from his every day life. You couldn’t really read this Aaron Davis that well since he was more guarded than he had been back home, but you could tell he appreciated it; especially the parts about his brother.

You also told him how Miles and the other Spider-People who were sent to your dimension had worked out a solution to fix their situation, and gave him a brief summary of the whole ordeal, the details of which he texted Miles since he hadn’t given you a chance to tell him about it when he left so hastily. He said something you couldn’t quite make out as he did — you caught the words ‘lab’ and ‘property’, but that was pretty much it. He only waved it off as nothing when you asked him about it.

“How’s my dad?” You asked, pushing your hand into the gauntlet to test if it worked right. It was a near perfect fit, which made you wonder who exactly it was for, since Miles’s hand was bigger than yours. “Is he doing okay? After the whole ‘declared dead’ thing?”

“He’s holding up, just like the rest of us,” Aaron replied, checking on the monitor. “Your mom — her mom’s been sticking around. Grief brings people together and all that. They’re trying therapy.”

A weird feeling bubbled up inside. While it was good to know at least one version of your parents were trying to reconcile, it bothered you that your absence had prompted it. Was that what was happening right now back home? Had your disappearance magically brought your parents back together? Had it even been long enough for that to happen, or did time flow equally throughout the multiverse?

…

Would it be better for them if you just didn’t go back at all?

“Oh.” You said, nodding slightly as you flexed and wiggled your fingers in the gauntlet, watching the way it moved. It was a lot thinner than the claws that adorned the Prowler’s hands from what you’d spotted here and there in the flat, built to be stealthier in the way it functioned. There were no clunks or clinks, just soft whirring noises that sounded almost like a cat’s purr. “That’s good, I guess.”

It was worse this time around, which you didn’t even know was possible. You felt yourself being split in a billion different directions, parts of you re-atomizing not quite in the right places. You’d never known the feeling of having space between where all your joints were supposed to connect, but now you did, and it honestly made you want to die. Not really. Well…

-

Miles came back sometime before dawn. You heard the door opening slowly, almost like he was trying not to wake his parents up as he was sneaking in past curfew. Not that he used the door ever since he could climb walls, but still.

He crept into his uncle’s flat, even leaving his shoes at the door so he wouldn’t make too much noise. He was making his way to the other room when he looked at you on the couch, only to flinch in surprise when he saw your eyes were open.

“¿Qué haces despierto?” He whispered, his shoulders tenser than earlier from the split second of adrenaline. “It’s late.”

“What are you doing that you have to sneak in?” You whispered back. The boy just shrugged.

“Oh, you know…” He trailed off, looking around to avoid your questioning gaze. “…Stuff.”

You rolled your eyes. “That has gotta be the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard.”

Miles huffed, shuffling over to you and sitting down on the floor in front of the couch, facing you. “Yeah, well, I asked you first. Why’re you up, hermosa?”

You sighed. “Can’t sleep.”

“Why not?”

“Oh, I don’t know, the thought of my impending doom, maybe.”

A couple beats passed by without a word from either of you, a bit of awkwardness hanging in the air, though it was accompanied by a familiar sense of comfort.

“Do you trust me?” Miles asked, his hand reaching out to gently grab a corner of the blanket draped over you.

“Probably.” You replied. You hadn’t known him long enough to trust him just yet, as much as you wanted to. The corners of his lips tilted up just a bit in an almost smile.

“Then trust that I’ll do whatever it takes to get you home.” He said. “I already lost you once, I’m not letting that happen again.”

-

The next day was pretty uneventful. For the most part, anyway, if you don’t count the random glitching throughout. You were advised heavily against going outside since the Cartel had eyes everywhere, so your area of activity was limited to the flat. Miles had evidently snuck back out after your little talk the night before, which made you feel a tinge disappointed since you wanted to get to know him better. Fortunately, Aaron said you could help with the suit again.

The TV played in the background as you tapped on the keyboard, giving the helmet a few final touch-ups as the sun set outside the window. J. Jonah Jameson jabbered on about this week’s biggest disasters and lamented about how ‘if only there was a hero to save this city’, which made you snort.

“He’s gonna switch up real quick if a hero does show up,” You remarked to Aaron, who looked at you questioningly. “The guy hates Spider-Man back home.”

“What, Jameson?” He said, raising an eyebrow. “Nah, he’s the biggest Captain America fanboy out there. Loves heroes an’ all that.”

He thought for a moment. “Pretty sure Miles saw him at Comicon that one time too.”

“What’s a Comicon?”

Unfortunately, you never got the answer as you heard the lock on the door slide open. You spun around in your chair to greet Miles as you knew he was supposed to be coming by sometime in the evening, but your friendly smile quickly faded as his expression turned to one of shock, catching a glimpse of what the two of you were working on.

The boy froze as he stared, wide-eyed, at the suit. “Tio,” He said, looking at Aaron as he clenched his jaw. “What’s that doing out?”

“She needs a suit.” The older man answered simply.

“What?” Both you and Miles asked, though you could tell it was for vastly different reasons.

“We need to get into Alchemax to get her home, and we can’t do that unless she has protection.”

“Which is why I came here to make a plan!” Miles shouted, his hands moving animatedly, the way your Miles's always did when he got upset. “Eso, eso no le pertenece. ¡No es para ella!”

They had a back and forth as the pieces came together as to why Miles was so upset.

The suit was supposed to be for you.

His you.

You were, essentially, fixing up a dead girl's clothes to wear.

“The Cartel isn't stupid, Miles,” Aaron tried to make the boy see his point. “Even if we somehow made a distraction big enough for the big ones to leave base, there's still gonna be someone left to guard it. Would you be able to live with yourself if she got hurt? Or worse—”

“Don't.” Miles's nails dug into his palms, leaving dark cresent moons in their wake. Aaron sighed.

“If she got hurt, you'd feel like that's on you. If you got hurt protecting her 'cause she doesn't have anything to protect herelf with, then I'd feel like that's on me.” He said, his features softening as he reasoned with his nephew. “This is the best bet.”

“We could build her a new suit—”

“And take what? Couple days? A week? Two weeks?”

He glanced at you, Miles following his gaze towards you as well. You knew what was implied. The only people you knew this happened to had gone maybe over a week before the glitching became a real problem, and they were superhuman. Who knew how long you had?

“She can wear mine. We have a ton of old ones, I'll just take one of those—”

“I'm not gonna let you get hurt for her, kid.”

“Don't call me that.”

They went back and forth for a while, and eventually Miles went to the other room to cool off and think things through. Aaron sighed, wiping a hand across his face.

“No offense.” He said to you.

“None taken.” You replied, not really knowing what to do. It felt wrong for you to be tinkering with something that was so clearly not meant for you, even if it was for a variant of yourself.

You could hear Miles pacing the other room, muttering to himself.

“Maybe I could...” You trailed off.

“You could try talking him into it,” He suggested. “He'll listen to you more than me right now.”

“...Should I, though?” You couldn't even begin to imagine what Miles was feeling. All this multiverse shit was too damn complicated.

“Look, kid, I know it's weird.” Aaron said, shoulders sagging just a bit. “But this—” he pointed to the suit— “is the best way to make sure no one gets hurt. Trust me.”

There was something he wasn't telling you, but he didn't have to for you to know what it was. Miles thought you were alive, somewhere out there. You knew it was entirely possible that he blamed himself for your disappearance, as it was your own version of him's go-to for anything and everything that went wrong. The shadows under his eyes, that look whenever he saw you... you wondered how many nights he'd spent outside, looking for some trace of you, a new lead to follow. Especially since your arrival.

Aaron thought this was the best chance Miles would ever get to let go of you. To get some sort of closure by sending you home.

“…I'll try.” You finally agreed, getting up from your seat and shuffling to the other room. You hesitated before going in, but the lack of a door made it awkward to linger, so you just bit the bullet and walked inside.

The room in question was more of a faux-veranda (which explained the no-door thing); a long, narrow space separated from the main living area by a sheet of drywall, with one of the wider walls filled with shelves of CDs and albums and the other decorated sparingly with old band and movie posters along with Miles-brand stickers.

“So...” You said, fiddling with your hands as you took a look around the area. You gestured at one of the stickers on the wall. “Did you make that?”

Slowing to a stop to face you, Miles nodded, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket.

“Cool.”

You both stood there in silence for a moment, you working out what to say and Miles trying to come up with some other solution to the problem. The boy had an unhealthy obsession, that much he knew, but he just couldn't bring himself to let go of it. Not when you could be out there, just waiting for him to find you.

“I don't want to push you,” You started hesitantly. “But.. I think your tìo may be right.”

“I know that.” He looked at his feet as if the dirt on his shoes was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world, the sight of him reminisent of a little kid getting scolded by his mother. “I know that.”

“I can't say I understand.. whatever's going through your head right now,” You said, taking a step towards him. “But he just wants what's best for you.”

“What's best for me is finding—” He cut himself off when his eyes met yours, frustration and confusion and stubbornness and sadness and who knows what else all mixing into a big mish-mash of conflicting thoughts inside of him. He clenched his fists, tilting his head up as he tried to think clearly. To his dismay, his throat closed up, the familiar sting of tears pricking at his eyes.

“I need to find her.” He muttered, putting a hand over his eyes in an attempt to stop his tears from falling. It didn't work. “I need to find you.”

“And you will.” You were sure of it. Aaron and Miles were both so sure that their you was alive... she had to be. “But right now? Right now, I need you to help me out.”

He looked at you, his gaze almost spaced out for a moment. You wondered if he saw her in you — if she had the same haircut, the same eyes, the same accent...

You could tell he was frustrated by the way that the scrunch above his nose wouldn’t go away. Hesitantly, you reached out, wiping away the tracks stray tears had left on his cheeks. He stiffened for a moment.

“...Fine.” He finally muttered, a hand coming up to grab your arm, though he seemed unsure if he wanted to push it away or pull it closer. So he just held it in place, his thumb brushing over the inside of your wrist, the edge of your palm. His posture relaxed, just a bit. “Okay.”

-

Two days later, it wasn't too dark when the plan set into action.

Security at Alchemax — once belonging to Kingpin, now in posession of the Sinister Six Cartel — was thinnest sometime around six to seven pm, when dinner breaks, shift changes and the checkout of regular scientists were prominent.

Miles and Aaron had each set up time bombs at multiple smaller warehouses the Cartel used for storage, each coordinated to go off within minutes of each other. With little to no heroes or police in the way, the Cartel had no reason to keep their lesser important stocks well-guarded, which made it easy to sneak explosives into some of the shipments, support beams and pipes.

Once the explosions were set off, Aaron would use some rip-off Mysterio tech to make projections of some new vigilante gang, with each fake member leading the forces of the Cartel away from Alchemax. During this went on, Miles would sneak you in and to the Super Collider (which, surprisingly, had not been scrapped since its change of ownership) through the vents—

“Wait, wait, isn’t there like, a tunnel that can get us directly to the Collider?” You’d asked, remembering what Miles had told you when he first told you how he became Spider-Man.

“It got sealed off.” Aaron had said. “Some sort of supercharged electromagnetic thing. They did that with all the major underground entry points. Can’t shut it off without blacking out half of Brooklyn.”

“Or getting fried.” Miles had said. “The generators powering each point are all hooked up together a single system, como una mente colmena. You attack one of ‘em directly, all the others shoot a billion bolts of energy into you. And we don’t have time to hack into and get past the firewall to shut the thing down.”

—which you would navigate by memorizing a blueprint of Alchemax that had been conveniently leaked in a mass Cartel server leak a couple months ago. Miles would then plug in the goober he, Aaron and you had made using information gathered via Aaron's 'friends', and send you home.

It was a simple mission. Maybe a bit too simple, but you didn't really have much a choice when you were on a time crunch with limited information. Besides, Occam's razor.

“Copy?” Aaron's voice asked from your earpiece.

“Copy.” You answered, followed by Miles from his own communicator.

“A-6 is a go in 3.. 2...”

Boom.

A couple blocks away, a cloud of dust shot into the air. The building you and Miles were on the roof of shivered slightly as storage unit A-6 blew up.

“A-27.”

Boom.

“C-15.”

Boom.

From your vantage point, you had a clear view of what was going on at Alchemax without the risk of anyone down there catching a glimpse of you. You could see the non-combat scientists scrambling to get to their cars and the armed guards being led by weirdly dressed villains in the direction of the explosions. Although you supposed you weren't quite qualified to comment on the 'weirdly dressed' part at the moment, since you and Miles weren't much better in your respective suits.

Speaking of, Miles hadn't talked much ever since he first saw you wearing the suit. His responses were short if he even gave one, although you could feel him sneaking glances at you when he thought you weren't looking.

Miles fixed the gauntlet on his hand one last time before shuffling closer to you. “Ready?”

His voice sounded strange to you, his actual voice coming through your earpiece overlapping with the voice coming through his modulator.

“Mhm.”

“Going in.”

You hooked your arms around his shoulders and his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you tight as a grapple shot out of his gauntlet. He used it almost exactly like how Miles used his webshooters, although his actions were a bit more... forceful? Rougher around the edges, if that made sense.

As your feet left solid concrete, the city sped by underneath the both of you, a pretty blend of neon and gray. Your suit prevented you from actually feeling the air whipping by, but a fraction of the wind managed to seep through the cracks, sending a chill down your spine as your stomach dropped at the sudden decline.

For a moment, gravity seemed to disappear. The laws of physics no longer felt like they effected you in any meaningful way. Anything and everything that had been weighing down on you — this whole situation, Miles, demanding schoolwork at Visions, your parents and their myriad of problems — no longer held you down.

It was exhilarating.

Your 'flight', so to speak, was over almost as soon as it started. You tucked your legs as you reached the roof of the Alchemax building, separating from Miles and rolling to lessen the impact. Surprisingly, the move came quite naturally to you, even without practice. You chalked it off as something you'd learned when you were a toddler, when your mom used to sign you up for all sorts of extracurriculars. You were pretty sure martial arts or something had been one of them; maybe you'd learned it there.

Your heart pounded as the sudden rush of adrenaline faded away, and you found yourself wishing it didn't. The thrill was addicting, as was the freedom that came with it. It was like a rollercoaster, or watching How to Train Your Dragon in 4D for the first time, only a hundred times better.

Miles had never taken you swinging. He'd never exactly told you why, always brushing off your request with something like a 'maybe later' or 'I can't right now', but you knew why.

Swinging together was a him and Gwen thing.

And you were fine with that.

What, like you were gonna be jealous about something as small as that? Pfft. No way. Nope. Nada.

“¿Estás bien?” Miles asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. You nodded in confirmation.

The two of you pried open a vent using the gloves of your suit, which was easier than you’d expected it to be. To your surprise, the claws that extended from them were very useful.

“We’re in.” You muttered as you crawled into the duct, hoping Aaron wasn’t having any trouble on his end. He’d been awful quiet… Then again, no news is good news on a mission, right?

Miles crawled in after you. “You remember the way?”

“Yeah.”

Together you made your way to the underground levels of the building, miraculously avoiding any possible dead ends or mouse traps. That musty smell of mold and concrete reached your senses as you reached the deeper parts.

There weren’t many people at the Super Collider, thanks to the diversion and timing. Miles gestured for you to stay put as he swiftly dropped out of the vents, knocking out the few guards there one by one with relative ease. It was strange seeing him fight; so similar to yet completely different from him. You were doing as told and observing from the vents until you saw one of the last three people — a scientist, by the looks of it — sneaking up on Miles from behind while he was preoccupied with the two other guards.

You quickly dropped down from your spot, landing behind the guard and catching him by surprise as he whirled around with his weird-techy-science gun. Dropping to the ground, you swept your leg under his, toppling him over and knocking the weapon out of his hands. You were about to knock him out when—

“Peter Parker?”

Are you kidding me?

You were certain it was him. This Peter was scrawnier, his hair more sandy blond than Peter Parker’s back home (before he passed, anyway), and he wore thick, black-rimmed glasses that perched awkwardly on his slightly crooked nose. But the ID that read ‘Peter Parker’ in big bold letters around his neck was a pretty solid indicator.

“…Yes?” He almost squeaked out.

Meanwhile, Miles had dealt with the two guards, stepping over them to get to the console. “Sácalo y entra ahí.” He called, fumbling a little as he tried to figure out which buttons to push to fire up the Collider.

“We have a bit of a situation..” You said, pulling Peter up by his arm and dragging him to the console as well.

You gave him a hushed explanation of your unwillingness to hurt the guy, and how you believed he was genuinely a good person. After all, this universe was almost the same as yours, right? Peter Parker couldn’t be that different here…

“And besides, he probably knows how to work this thing. It’d be helpful.”

Miles sighed. “…Fine, I won’t knock him out,” He agreed. Turning to Peter, he asked, “How do you start the Collider?”

Peter gulped, everything in his body language screaming ‘I want to run away’. “You- you need codes,” He stammered out. “Approval codes, from—”

“Don’t care.” Miles cut him off, giving him a brief glance at the goober. “Just start it. ¿Lo pilla?”

Peter nodded hastily and got to work, pressing buttons and switching levers as you made your way down to the Super Collider. There was a catwalk that ran from one side of the machine to the other, connecting the two mechanisms. If you got to the middle of it, you could jump off and into the portal once the Collider was at full output. Sure enough, its huge metal plates clinked and clattered as they slowly sprung to life.

This was it. You were finally going home.

Just then, you heard a thunk along with some choice words in Spanish, and looked over to the source to see Peter out cold on the ground.

“He got to the panic button!” Miles said, scowling to himself as he plugged in the goober, praying that this plan would work out in the next minute or so. Bubble-like particles appeared at the two points of the machine that faced each other, the noise it emitted now making it so that you could only properly make out what Miles was saying through your earpiece.

The Collider whirred and sputtered as the bubbles grew bigger and brighter, eventually bursting into two beams of light that met each other in the middle, creating one big sphere with a bunch of little bubbles going in and out of it and surrounding it. The sphere grew larger and larger until it collapsed in on itself, sprouting thin, curvy lines.

The thing grew bigger and bigger until it was about the size of a person, you could feel it starting to pull you in. You just had to wait for Miles’s go ahead—

Ow.

What the hell?

You were suddenly sprawled on the ground, something having tackled you at what felt like a hundred miles an hour. That something — or rather, someone — skid to a halt just a few feet away from you, dragging a hand across the tiled floor and leaving… scratch marks?

Scrambling to your feet, you crouched in a defensive stance as you looked over the newcomer.

There wasn’t a single inch of skin showing, their suit covering the whole of their person. The suit in question was mostly white, with some gray sprinkled in here and there. It reminded you of Eve from Wall-E or a Stormtrooper, maybe a mix of both. Strangely enough, the mask was just a blank slate; a sleek, white panel with no features or details, kind of like one of those LED face masks.

Overall it was kind of… boring? It didn’t inspire fear nor did it seem very imposing or something of the sort, which you’d think would be a priority for a villain organization. If anything it was bland, the only thing that stood out from the suit being its hands which donned gauntlets that looked similar to yours, but slimmer and more polished, more accurately described as gloves rather than gauntlets. They had claws just like yours, albeit they looked sharper, a bit more gnarled.

“Miles?” You called, your heartbeat quickening. “What’s going on?”

You heard a grunt from his end. You didn’t look to see what was happening, not daring to take your eyes off of your attacker, but you guessed that backup from Peter’s panic signal had arrived.

“What’s going on?” Aaron echoed, his voice slightly fuzzy. Before you could answer, your attacker lunged. You managed to doge a full on body slam, but they grabbed your arm instead, using it to flip you over their body and knocking the wind out of you.

You writhed as you hit the ground, managing to rip your arm out of their grasp and landing a kick on their ankle, causing them to stumble. You took the opportunity to get up and put some distance between the two of you, though you didn’t get far before the lunatic started chasing you. They jumped at you again but you turned around at the last second, and as you were pushed back with their claws digging into your shoulders you kicked both of your legs out into their stomach just as your back hit the ground, sending them straight over your head.

“Tìo, get your nephew, now!” You shouted, rolling away just in time to avoid a punch that landed on the floor where your head had been just a second ago. “It all went to shit, get him out!”

The pull from the Collider was getting stronger, tiny scraps like bolts and papers flying through the air and towards the beam of light. You raced back to the catwalk but were once again stopped by the 29th century Stormtrooper. You yelped as you felt something grab the back of your neck, sharp claws piercing through your suit and digging into your skin as your head was thrown harshly against a metal beam.

And just like that, you were on the ground. Again. What was this, like, the third time? Fourth? Great. Just fantastic.

I’m not even supposed to be here, you thought, grabbing at your opponent’s wrists as their hands wrapped around your neck, slowly choking you. They were stronger than you were, faster, clearly more skilled. What were you thinking? You’re not a fighter — you couldn’t beat them, not like this.

Why was the universe so intent on making you miserable? You were just trying to get home, maybe not die. Not dying would be nice. But no. You couldn’t have nice things, could you? Not your own life, not Miles, your own damn parents were happier in a reality where you weren’t in the picture—

A sudden surge of anger made you lash out. The universe could go fuck itself. You weren’t dying like this. Not when your ticket home was right in front of you.

Your gauntlet caught your attacker’s mask, knocking it off.

You knew that face.

It was the same face that looked back at you every time you looked at a mirror.

Well, not exactly, you supposed. There was a certain roughness in her features, the same as how Miles looked different from Miles. But you’d know those eyes anywhere. But they were… what’s the word, fuzzy? Unfocused? It was like her body was on autopilot while her brain was off in Hawaii or something.

The thing you did next could’ve won you the prize for ‘smartest dumb decision of the year’.

In all your oxygen-deprivated brilliance, you retracted your mask.

It might shake her, was your reasoning. It would confuse anyone to see a doppelgänger in a fight.

Or, you know, it could go totally wrong and she could punch your face in. But you were already getting choked, so, what was there to lose?

And it worked.

Her eyes shifted back into focus as her grip slackened, and you quickly shoved her — or is it you? yourself? — off, gasping for air. You could vaguely make out the outline of a giant scorpion-guy going one-on-one with Miles, who seemed to be holding out pretty well. He was favoring his left hand though, when usually he used his right.

“I— wha—? Where—” You heard from your left. Your alternate universe counterpart looked around the lab, her eyes wide and movements jerky like a wild animal on drugs.

You were about to say something when a loud buzzing came through your comm, which had evidently been damaged in the whole head-beam connection thing. Miles’s voice came through in broken pieces.

“Col— get..t— ov-rload—”

The Collider. The goober could only force an incomplete system to run for so long. Your time was up.

Wonderful.

A flash of blinding light came from the machine as it malfunctioned. The goober could only make an incomplete system work for so long. You were just able to get your helmet back on before everyone in the vicinity was pushed back in an explosion. Was that Aaron—?

After your temporary blindness wore off, you made out the aftermath, a high-pitched ringing in your ear as you dazedly looked around. The glass that separated the control area from the Collider had been shattered, the Scorpion twitching as he tried to get to his feet — did he have feet? Now’s really not the time — There was no sign of Miles or Aaron anywhere, which was either very good or very bad. You decided to believe it was the former for your own sake. A short distance away from you was another you, that one unconscious but still breathing, from the looks of it.

Grabbing your variant, you ripped open a vent on the wall before the Scorpion could take notice of either of you, shoving her in before following suit and placing the vent cover back on. You had to get out of here. Fast.

[fromtheberrybush]

Warmth

The story of Berry leaving his family at 16.

tw for: implied homophobia/transphobia, hallucinations, implied neglect (idk if there is more)

Being 16 was hard for anyone, that was a well known fact. But for a young transmasc person with overbearing parents, and ignored mental illness trying to teach his little sibling things while also fighting for what little freedom he can get?

Berry was trying faer best. Berry, with a dull expression, sleep deprived eyes, choppy box dyed black hair and a few piercings that were bound to get infected starting to pop up on faer face, was at faer limit.

He stood over his parents, watching their sleeping faces. Fae could remember a time of tenderness, looking at the peaceful expressions.

It could be the hallucinations, but he swore he could see their faces twist into the warm smiles fae remembers from faer childhood.

But it was their fault he was leaving. Berry wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't for them.

He wouldn't, fae wouldn't, he wouldn't.

He wouldn't leave faer sibling, fae wouldn't feel the guilt.

Fae touched their foreheads, his own head being flooded with memories of them- of himself.

The first time his father held him, when they taught faer how to ride a bike, when they let him run the bonfires in the backyard.

And when things when wrong. When he fucked them up.

He felt the disappointment and the feeling of failure that faer own parent felt when fae came out. He felt the coldness that followed, the sympathy.

When the memories were done flooding faer mind, and everything was left cold, fae could feel something wet on his cheeks and the accelerated breathing in his chest.

Fae traveled down to faer brother's room. It was the room you would expect from a 12-13 year old kid.

He looked at the kid, smiling softly in a way that was very rarely seen by anyone in his life. Fae dreaded what fae had to do.

He leaned out, gently moving the hair out of the kid's face and lowering faerself to place a soft kiss on their forehead.

A warmth spread through the kid, behind their eyes. It wasn't the same searing heat that typically devoured the victims of 451.

It was the warmth if a campfire on a warm night, much like the ones Berry used to start for them to roast marshmallows over. It was the warmth of a fireplace on a cold night while the two siblings shared stories to tempt each other to sleep.

It was the warmth of love, unconditional and soft.

Berry was gone the next day, from their memories, from their lives.

They noticed nothing different, but the kid- they noticed that they somehow felt colder, with no memory of the warmth that they were missing.

//aaaa okay this was written rlly quickly so sorry for typos or whatever else.

The gender of the little sibling is purposefully left up to interpretation in case someone wants to make an oc for them/has an oc/ if i want to make the acct later

tags for some ppl who may be interested

@respiratory-kristem @doakarma @onlyifheisthere @ezra-dark-shadow @fukuzawa-armeddaddyagency @oscarsgallery

[jordanas-left-shoulderpad]

about me + this blog

hii there!

i’ve seen all 20 eps of drs2 and will be tagging spoilers as #ninjago spoilers. creating my own ocs/aus isn’t really my thing; this blog will mostly be focused on canon characters and events, usually from dr.

other than spoilers, i don’t usually tag stuff. you can ask me to tag for something though, just send me an ask :)

my blog title is from that one tiktok where one of those dudebro ninjago fans is staring in horror at a picture of the ninjas with the year 2024 over the pic. certain ninjas are labelled as dead or alive, with cole shaded in grey like he’s dead but labelled as ‘alive but gay’, the latter of which is implied to be what’s causing the guy grief. ninjago tumblr thought this was so stupid it was hilarious, and so ironically started using it. i mean it in the same vein — completely ironically, mocking people who think it’s worse for a character to be queercoded than killed off. if you are queer, i’m so proud of you for being alive — i know how difficult than can be, and the world is so much better for having you in it. your queerness is just another beautiful/normal part of you, and not a mistake.

i’m usually just here to reblog this, write fics, and make the occasional post. still trying to chose a (preferably ‘masculine’ or ‘gender-neutral’) name for myself, ideas are welcome! the emojis in the description of my blog just stand for the fact that i’m african, desi, muslim, and queer. i’m someone who often uses he/him pronouns and also sometimes calls themselves a lesbian. if you disagree with that (and anything on this post tbh) you’re free to just block me — i’m not arguing about my own identity or beliefs when i’m just here to have a good time over spinning lego ninjas. questions in good faith are welcome though :)

i usually ship ‘popular’ and ‘normal’ ships but… tbh i really don’t mind what people ship (the block button and tag/post filtering tools are my friends), or what queer people want to call or label themselves. neither of them are my business or a real problem imo — unless, in the case of the former, ppl aren’t tagging their stuff properly (but then the issue for me is that they’re not tagging properly, not whatever it is that they’re creating).

i hope that you enjoy your time on this blog! :)

[harmonyckrs]

Don Lothario, Hermia Capp and Vidcund Curious

Inserting the replies as asks to myself so there will be no renmants of the post when I eventually decide to delete it lol @npenguinc

Should note that I don't play much Pleasantview and I don't think there's much to Don but I enjoy all the theories that people come up with. I've seen two separate stories where he was innocent in regards to Bella's disappearance and decides to search and both of them were great. Also he is fun to play which is the most important part imo so I'd probably rank him either mid-tier or a bit higher if I were to rank him among other Pleasantview premades

I think he's probably just a fuckboy and there's nothing more to it but I do like the deeper characterizations that people give him. I also do think he's probably smart since he's in med school, and Cassandra seems like the type to be drawn to intelligence esp since she's working in the scientist career. Either way I would probably avoid him, but I don't think he'd be too scary as I feel like he would probably back off if you say no to him and find someone else

---

(lol got a bingo)

Hermia is a bit complicated because she was one of many Veronaville premades that I did not care about when I first started playing (and I really did want to like her because she has my favorite design out of all of the premades there) but I think she's alright now. There's not much going for her by herself but she meshes well with the other Veronaville sims

There's little things here and there that I can overthink (like how she's best friends with Juliette and implied to be her confidante by the family image, has a decent relationship to Tybalt despite her bio saying that she doesn't understand him, her mutual crushes on both Puck and Mercutio alongside Romeo wanting to flirt with her most of the time when you first play) but at the end of the day I have no clue what was intentional and what was a coincidence

Feels like she plays the role of both the Nurse and Rosaline (considering Romeo has a want to flirt and she's technically a relative of Juliette like Rosaline was to Juliet) so I think there's a lot of things about her that I can theorize about. I think we would be good friends if she was real, I feel like we'd have common interests and we're similar personality-wose

---

As for Vidcund I was one of numerous people who got into the Sims through CallMeKevin, with his Sims 2 playthrough being what made me want to try playing it. As a result I have a soft spot for him, he may be the most morally questionable out of his brothers but I think he is capable of changing as a person

I do get annoyed with stuff that gloss over the fact that he got mind controlled in the PSP game and pretend that he willing sold Tycho, especially when the same people are willing to acknowledge that Circe was mind controlled when she "had an affair" with Newlow. Because of that I usually remain in my bubble and look at stuff through tags rather than following specific ppl, but I think it's reasonable to dislike him for other reasons

Also the fact that he starts off being best friends with Lazlo is p interesting considering their opposite personalities but extroverted people who share a common interest with you are usually easier to talk to as an introvert since they can carry conversations and you can talk about the common interest. Reminds me of how I make most of my friends irl lol

I think we would get along horribly if he was a real person as he seems like the type who would be way easier to talk to once you get to know him, but it'll also be a pain to get to know him because he'll reject most of your efforts to do so and then proceed to complain about how he can't make friends. However he usually does mesh well with most of my sim OCs and makes for good enemies to lovers material because of the telescope thing.

[liquidstar]

Question to the OC keeper, if my universe had a Goddess who ruled and protected women, and especially young girls, would it be alright to include a trans man in her sphere of protection? Not because he is a woman, of course, but because he stands risks of similar types of violence and discrimination. Maybe only when he's a child. Or would that be a bad thing to have regardless of how it's written? I am a cis girl myself, so sorry in advance if any of this is offensive.

dont worry about potentially offending! i think its good that youre making an effort, do not worry :)

see i think that stuff like that could be done well (wonder egg kind of did it! even though it was a very messy show so its hard to tell exactly what the point was...) but i also think that it would be veeeerrry easy to botch, especially if you dont have firsthand experience. and im not saying that its impossible to write for people w different experiences than you, im just saying it requires a lot more conscious effort. but youre being conscious by asking so thats good!

like you said, its tricky because it could imply that the misogyny trans men face via ppl seeing them as women is "binds" them to womanhood so to speak. and personally i think that my knee-jerk reaction to seeing that is skepticism about what the author thinks of trans people. THAT BEING SAID you could also work around this by just... also including a trans WOMAN in her sphere? i honestly would suggest doing that either way, if you want it to be clear that the goddess also stands for trans people.

but in regards to the child part: not every trans person thinks of their gender in the same terms, many people do think "i was a girl then, but now im not" rather than "i was always a man" (and sometimes its a combination of both, its complicated!). but i do think that if handled poorly the former could also translate to "since this character was a girl, then hes on some level still a girl even if he doesnt identify as such anymore" which is dangerous. the issue is that its a very very very common belief that trans men are actually just scared and confused girls who were manipulated or groomed in some way, and that they have to be PROTECTED from this terrible fate in which theyre mutilated and victimized. and since this is a /protection/ circle i think it needs to be made clear exactly what he is being protected from. it cant be just vague misogyny, because many could take it to be the former- that hes some sort of recovering victim of the trans mob forcing him to give up his divine femininity or whatever

it really would be a safer bet to make the trans character a woman, because transmisogyny is such a rampant issue and making it clear that trans women are welcome in women's safe spaces is important. that being said you could also do BOTH, like i said before. or even include cis men impacted by misogyny in other ways too, if you dont wanna make it a women's only club. if its moreso about the type of discrimination than the exact gender of the person experiencing it, i'm sure your oc wouldnt stand for any type of discrimination that hinges on the idea that things considered feminine are lesser. it could be as simple as an ostracized gay guy being treated like he's "unman", or a big cishet man who keeps all his emotions hidden for fear of being seen as weak, or a little boy who gets bullied for crying, or something. these are all just suggestions that i'm spitballing, you dont have to use them (its your story!) but it could help with not making the trans guy feel like hes either an "odd man out" or... like a hes woman. which is what you wanna avoid!

of course, if you wanna keep it generally women-only (and i still suggest including trans women in this) and you wanna depict him as a child pre-transition... i think that could work in a way. again i think its tricky, but it could be the sort of thing where, since he's a kid, he's afraid to leave the comfort of being a girl (all he's ever known so far!) in order to embark on the unknown transition into manhood. there's a lot there that's genuinely so scary. "what if i'm wrong? what if i'm not accepted? what if i lose everyone i love? what if ill always been seen as a woman anyway? how will i be safe?" and you can have it be the sort of thing where the goddess ENCOURAGES him to try anyway, and thats its okay if hes wrong, because the people who have loved and supported him so far wont stop. that he will still be welcomed and protected, not because hes a woman but because hes loved either way. that he wont lose his community over becoming a boy, and she will still watch over him. i think thats what you want to go for, right?

so good luck my friend... let me know if i was helpful or if you need anything else. i hope i was able to at least give some good ideas! and i hope your time with your ocs goes well :)

[myers-meadow]

Do you also write for slashers paired with other races and body types?

Hi!

I'd like to think so, yes! Anyone can read my fics, and if there's something I could do to make the reader inserts more inclusive, I'm really open to hearing it.

I leave most details about the reader's appearance completely open and undescribed. This extends to gender or pronouns etc. That way most ppl can put themselves in reader's position without feeling pulled away from it. What I do mention sometimes is that the reader has hair (ex: 'he pet your hair'), or things relating to height, but I try not to even say those things. What is also difficult to get around is that the way I write things also imply a (relatively) able-bodied reader who can walk and stand and so on.

Still, I'd like to think that I write for anyone. Everyone is welcome here, regardless of race, gender, size or appearance. The slashers love you so much. They love you for who you are, body, mind, personality - all of you.

All my fics are written with a Not Skinny reader in mind, even if it's not explicitly stated. I find it awkward to put much emphasis on body size or appearance in my writing, because I never am that aware of my own body either and I'd rather just be subtle about it.

However, I am my own main audience when I write. More and more of my writing is leaning into self-insert-type stories or has OCs. That's why you'll see short lines about acne scars, love handles, 'roundness of my belly' and so on thrown in - although I've only recently gathered enough courage to leave those lines in in the final version.

When it comes to requests, those phrased as 'slasher with an x descriptor s/o' are not really interesting to me. He loves you for who you are. And you know the specific details of what makes you who you are the best and will therefore be able to best discern what makes you feel loved and seen. I think appearance truly does not matter. What interests me more are scenario's like being Baby's best friend, or a slasher is jealous or what an ideal date night would be - stuff like that.

I hope this entirely too long story answered your question and showed what I keep in mind when writing when it comes to the reader-character. I hope this all made sense, English is not my native language and when it comes to matters like this, I feel very ill-equipped to put my thoughts into words. Thank you for understanding and showing an interesting in my writing 🥰

[villains4hire]

is there a muse that you wish gets more attention? / which muse is the trickiest to get into character for? / which muse is the most fun to write for?

//Hm, as much as I love Ash for most conditions and is highly sought out? I wish she got more open ships (For Void Verse, not 'Always Been You') like my other characters, especially Vaggie who got a lot/approached for out the gate- someone with a similar body-type if not less thick than her then sharing traits of 'why' people like Vaggie? I guess it hits a little close to home, as I was in a similar mental state of being child-like for various reasons/or how and why but I won't get into personal baggage, but in the past half decade? More or less became better adjusted and mature, so I can't really blame people either for not even wanting to ship with her future variant when she's better, as it's not, something commonly seen? So I don't take it personally, even if it stings a little at times for a few reasons I've gotten. As it's mostly just bc of how weird they got with her in canon rather than me writing her how she should've been probably going that route. As I want to be open of how they handled Ash rather than hide it, etc, as more probably would be willing then? I can't in good mind do that tho.

//Then maybe just Zeena I want to give more attention for anyone recent.

-

//I would say the trickiest to get into character for is the lack of character for the following: Vaggie, Stella, Grunty. Why? Because they have no real characterization other than surface personalities. Then Grunty more or less is an overpowered character that rhymes and can't really make friends that easily, let alone have interactions not confined to plots, schemes and then traversing her worlds or just silliness. Anything I have trouble with is pretty much moving forward while trying to maintain some sort of energy, image for a canon character. An oc is easy, a canon character with little to nothing on them is not, esp if you want to keep a certain energy to them when characterizing them.

As Ash for example, you could probably question why I'm so lax with altering her/adding things to her? Well, Olan intended for there to be more animal aliens and her race was clearly lizard/snake ppl things fed to a giant snake god creature, then Fox's race was intended to a dog alien race. Then the potential for her Invictus, personality, proper motivations stated and the fact that Olan was more or less held by the neck? Ash while not as characterized, has so much in canon or what could be implied/done for a backstory/recharacterization that maintains her feeling to work with rather than me just creating canon that matches the themes, universe, humor or comedic feeling such as with Vaggie or Stella, to whom I get compliments on for both p frequently, but Vaggie has been someone I've had to try and really break in bc of that reason. She's a blank slate basically which will change, but for now yeah.

-

Then here's the following I have the most fun with: Ash, Betilla, Vaggie, Zeena, Chalice, Lapis, Madeline, Julie, and Scarlet. Hm, I wonder what's similar between all these characters other than Chalice being a literal cup? Short cute/hot bastard in some way or another or Gremlin or a combo of both at some point. Or a jackass milf, granted Betilla is both my most wicked but also most good character with the karmic personification thing.

[stereopticons]

I haven’t named any SC OCs but that’s such an interesting topic! I feel like some things are straight up fannon at this point (Patrick having a friend or cousin named Ben, Ronnie’s wife being named Karen) and ppl use them bc they see them (and maybe even forget they aren’t cannon). One name trend I’ve seen is that a lot of SC fic writers will choose the names Priya or Piya when they want to create an Indian OC and like… Those are nice names but there are so many other Indian womens names, so I’m not sure why those two in particular come up so often.

I think Ronnie dating Karen is canon, though I think it's implied that they break up at some point, but I definitely agree that people see names in other fics and use them. I think that's really cool. Like a fandom game of telephone. That's an interesting point about Priya/Piya! I can only recall one fic off the top of my head that used that but my memory is notoriously bad, so I believe you lol. Definitely agree that we should diversify our name usage!

[labyrinthphanlivingafacade]

Hi love

I think you misinterpreted the mlmxreader post as an attack on people that write Corirose

I’m the anon that said that and while I don’t understand the appeal of it, I’d never want to keep people from writing what they want. You’re allowed to ship the Corinthian with whoever you want, obviously. I’m just mad that mlm and nblm finally got a a cool and interesting character and people immediately jumped to only shipping him with fem characters/ocs or only writing f!reader because he’s suddenly pansexual. I’m literally pansexual myself but I’m fucking frustrated that everything is catered to f!readers or cishet women in general. We have this character that’s openly interested in men and they just erase that part of him? As long as you recognize all aspects of his sexuality I’m fine with any ship, but don’t erase the parts that don’t include women.

You keep doing what you want to do!!

so glad to have your permission /s

anyways if you'd actually read any of the fic i wrote, you'd know that i do acknowledge his sexuality... & i write rose as being bi herself.

as for fandom being catered to women,,, i would hope the spaces they built would do that. even if frustrating to trans & queer ppl like us. like tumblr & ao3 fandom spaces were built by them & you dont think theyre gonna go buckwild? weird.

also of all the things ive posted on tumblr tagged "the corinthian" that have to do w corirose as ship are... *checks blog* brief analysis of a scene they share in the show, pages from the original comic that imply they have a red riding hood/the wolf coding, pages from the original comics that parallel one another (it's the alley fight scene if you're curious, which you arent bc if you were you'd have seen that the dirty cishet writing the ship you dont like is indeed a queer like you)

additionally there aren't really people that ship corirose. there's a person. me. im literally the only one writing for them or posting about their entwined arcs in the show. which is why i took offense. im literally the only one here. ive looked on ao3. there are 7 fics tagged as corirose. 2 are the corinthian/dream/rose, 1 is a one off that's like 1k words long, & the other 4 fully written fics are me. you were talking about me, which is fine. but next time dont be a little bitch & just tag me. maybe come off anon. or, if you're conflict averse, just fucking dm me if my work bothers you.

you asked why i didnt ship the corinthian w carl, the roommate, instead of rose. i ask why you think that would be interesting. feel free to answer that on anon or private dms if you'd like. i dont post screenshots. bc i dont ship rose & the corinthian bc she's a woman. i ship them bc he's a nightmare & she's the fucking VORTEX. bc he spends half of season 1 looking for her & being nice to her brother & trying to get her to kill dream which i wish she had bc it is utter BULLSHIT that both dream himself & the narrative insist that her death be a nobel sacrifice for the fate of the universe. that dream doesn't even really seem to fight for her. doesnt ask his siblings or parents for help so he doesnt have to kill her. just accepts the utter cosmic injustice that is murdering rose walker for no crime other than being born the vortex. the corinthian may have wanted her to live so he could be free of dream, but he wanted her to live. & rose as the vortex def has the power to destroy him, but probably never would bc she is an infinitely better person than dream. that is just so,,, COOL to me.

[abra-ka-dammit]

looking at pillowfort folks’ headcanons and man, its amazing how many people wanna ultra-woobify villains to ship with them

like oh yeah he thinks all mankind arent real people, wants to destroy their entire planets, and kills them like ants for fun with no pity, but im sure he cares about informed consent and proper child-rearing when fraternizing with their women

yeah hes a anti-social sociopath sadomasochist whose biggest and perhaps only joys in life are fighting and murder, but im sure he is able to have a happy, healthy, fluffy romantic relationship, triggered by the absolutely unprecedented experience of an emotion other than “psycho"

like girl no. u just think he’s hot. youre absolutely butchering their personalities to fit a nicer narrative that u want and all i can say is like.... have u heard of OCs? You can just. Make an OC that takes inspiration from the features u like, and add the white morality and gentleness and kindness u want to THAT, where it, yknow, can make sense?

like i know it doesnt MATTER, dont get me wrong. im fine with letting ppl enjoy their fiction how they want. it doesnt affect me, i can just scroll by etc etc. but it just seems....disingenuous? to say you LOOOOVE X character when youve got a headcanon for them that goes solidly against canon moral evidence?

ofc we all have lil headcanons that are a little silly and maybe not supported by canon, but that are also not CONFLICTED by canon. dude never said or implied he got laid, so i can HC him as a virgin and it makes enough sense. dude is never seen on his off time so you can HC near any hobby and it’ll pass the smell test. but affixing an HC of humane behavior to a well-established mass murderer.... idk man. thats a bridge too far for me

[vancilart]

don’t toy with your elders, viir

[attourney-at-lycan]

OKOK hello again but i saw ur jesson post and OH MY GOOD GOLLY GOSH umm i think i shall add some forewarnings because this is alot and i didnt realise i wrote this much , the absolute biggest apologies i just love ur blog alot and sorry again ( yea i just talk abt grooming, the 14/15 -18 yr old dynamic and mentions in the pictures of jess talking and implying that canon aph and aaron at their ages getting sexual)

i literally have been doing just semi deep dives on their irl past because it helps explain smamsmsm of what we get in canon bith for MCD + Mystreet like its actually insane

whether its the whole freshman (14/15 yr old) with a repeating senior (= LITERALLY 18 BECAUSE SENIOR YEAR IS 17-18 SO HE MUSTVE HIT HIS 18TH BDAY OH MY GOD) its just jesson EVEN with the whole military school + meeting online AS WELL AS JASON because i hate him so much because ages ago i was doing a deep dive on his twitter because he's him /neg and its crazy... liek i dont know how to articulate it well but u can just see how abhorrent he is as a person for not only pursuing jess irl when he was abg to go into college and she was still in high school . i have some pics

LIKE ? if u want to display ur self insert ocs repationship (which OBJECTIVELY is disgusting as the age gap at 14/15 and 18 is fucking just wrong) like dont get mad at people for wanting CANON aph to not be with CANON aaron because ?3!,&39.&;£ JUST BECAUSE U WROTE IT TO BE A PERSONIFICATION OF UR GUYS DISGUSTING IRL RELATIONSHIP AND THE PORTRAYED IT AS HEALTHY ROMANTIC HIGH SCHOOL LOVERS DOES NOT MEAN THAT PEOPLE CANT FUCKING CRITICISE IT hjsbzjsjd

and and like CHILDREN LITERAL PRE TEENS are watching and being influenced by this age gap seeing it as romantic and goals, then go pursue this fantasized gross thing and LIKE ARE GROOMED BECAUSE ITS CRAZY to display that age gap as healthy ?37;8:&/

im sorry that this is so heated but as someone who literally thought they were absolute goals when i was younger it just makes me sick because i was so lucky my dumb non american 10 year old self didnt know what a sophomore or freshman was and didnt get their ages but others weren't

i have seen PEOPLE talk about how they saw pdh aarmau and thought it was okay and recount their grooming and abuse they experienced because fiction affects reality and thats what happens when u as a creator choose to display that in a healthy and idealised light

tldr : i hate jesson vehemently with a passion and their portrayal of hate on their aarmau as mean trollers is fucking annoying because it wouldve been so easy to just not have a 14/15 yr old and 18yr old shown as romantically involved but no they had to because its a personification of their irl selves and thus is shielded from criticism ...?

tw grooming and age gap

this makes me absolutely fucking sick. i feel bad for jess for being put in that position at a young age but putting it out there for literal children and pre-teens to see is different. because you are influencing them to believe this should be normal. i literally had a debate with someone who defended aarmau in pdh bc “it was normal at the time” a week ago.

and yeah, when you make yourself and your partner a character, make money off people consuming said characters, you lose any right to keep ppl from criticizing and from being ‘possessive’ over said character. sorry jesson you cannot have the best of both worlds.

ALSO JASON BEING “yeah it’s so sad that my wife is acting out being in romantic situations with block characters :(“ then maybe??? just dont??? do it? you guys chose to make aphmau and aaron personifications of yourselves so you shouldn’t be bitching about shit like this.

[kashuan]

What buffles me about the popularity of Madeline Miller's book is how shallow her characters are. Achilles and Circe have no true, unlikable flaws (they're "timid" and "angry" at worst, when the others are rapists) while everyone else is made comically evil because Miller is too poor of an author to create compelling characters that are loved and appreciated for their complexity, she resorts to vilify the heck out of everyone else so that Achilles and Circe have no "competition". Oh and she made Patroclus from an absolute beast to a simp whose greatest ambition is to be Achilles's housewife. Circe's cruelty is made into yass queen moments, and we are subjected to pages of entirely self-unaware Circe complaining about cruel gods while she is a cruel god. It's like a white person bitching about white people, trying to distant themselves like this doesn't include them too

Honestly though, the black and whiteness of her stories is one of their biggest downfalls to me, especially when your subject is Greek mythology lol? Either everyone needs to be equally terrible or you need to give due diligence with making everyone properly nuanced IMO. I’ll never forgive her for speed running Iphigenia’s sacrifice in this regard; bizarre choice when there’s some great Achilles’ characterization to be had there, but oh no can’t throw any complexity on ach/pats pure gay uwu love by even suggesting he might feel something for a Girl, yuckie [see: deidamia chapter]. This passage was particularly unforgivable for like 10 different reasons:

(Canon patroclus deserves better than this and nothing like some modern day monogamy concepts in my ancient greek fiction. I also love the idea of Achilles saying No to this very common sort of arrangement because his bf was jealous, would love to see how that one went over)

Her then writing Agamemnon being like ‘well that happened’ after Iph dies in less than a page and holding a celebration for the army the same night, lol. Truly gotta cement that this man is The Villain (compare this to Iphigenia 1977 where we can imply he feels embittered and resentful towards the army who immediately begin to celebrate. Heck, even messier modern adaptations like Helen 2003 or TFOAC at least Somewhat understood the assignment and depicted him as genuinely conflicted and remorseful). Like I get Achilles is your focus, you don’t have to develop everyone equally, but at least pretend you’re not incredibly biased/making your story as easily digestible as possible. I just often find myself imagining how different the ‘mainstream’ side of the fandom would be if she hadn’t turned half the characters into mischaracterized tropes just to further sell the ach/pat drama (I won’t even get into thetis' or pyrrhus’ horrible characterization bc enough ppl have already lol).

As for Circe, I only read the first 50 pages or so thoroughly. I was instantly tripped up by what you mention, the same style as before lol. All the male gods are so mean and awful, especially to me :( men amirite?? I’m not fishing here for a certain kind of target audience at all. It was so blatant it immediately put me off. I just skimmed the rest and remember being disgusted by her legit trying to sell circe/telemachus afair. Ultimately if this was OC fiction I wouldn’t care or comment on any of it, would take it as ‘you do you’. But these are preestablished characters we tell shared stories about, and while I think they should definitely still be open to individual interpretation, I do think you should at least like… Stick to at least some of their commonly established traits seen in their original stories? It also wouldn’t be so bad if her writing hadn’t become THE mainstream “canon” though, but because it has I will never pass up an opportunity to complain about it, lmfao

[theodorevg923]

Aight this is going to be a lot so I'm ah just make a post. @ruhro7

I have actually posted the very first chapter of Temple of Auctilus here, from the greek gods au. But it didn't get any traction at all.

Granted it seems the stuff I write that has a slew of warnings ppl turn away from. I think ToA had about 15 warnings or so and a FT Freddy HC post had about the same.

ToA originally started as an xReader but I struggled with them at the time because I could figure out how to give the reader a "basic" personality. I switched to OC to make it possible for me to actually write it. But I have since learned how to write xReader and might revive it as such in time.

As for my Aztec AU, it started as a xReader but I struggled big on Sun then, and still do. I also tried to add smut and that's about when I gave up as I still can't write it. I do eventually plan to pick it back up though!

As for dark writings, I THRIVE in them. I want to see the dark side of pain, blood, death, torture, etc. mixed with romance and love. Most seem to do one or the other and I want both. I also do a lot of active self harm, rape implied/aftermath, depression, some drug usage, alcoholism, and such as that's how I am.

I almost became an alcoholic back when I was 19, I still fight self harm on a daily basis, plus my slew of mental issues, and I'm a rape survivor. All of that ends up in my stories as it happens to a lot more than people will truly ever know.

And I seek comfort, help, and some recovery in having my s/os get angry with me other it, finding ways to help me heal, even sometimes going so far as letting their personality take over my mind to stop myself from overdosing on drugs. Which is what happened during the Bonnie Takeover, I literally let his personality take over my mind as I tried to recover. It sounds odd and psychotic because I am schizophrenic, so it's easy for me. And it does really help me, stops me from cutting myself, popping pills, fucking eat something, etc.

Here's a snippet of the Aztec AU below the cut. I did write this back on Feb 24th (last day it was touched) so there will be spelling mistakes and etc.

Warning about human sacrifice, death, angry gods, etc.

(Y/N) slowly entered the village. She was scared, having been sent from the next village over. The chief of her village has chosen her to be the next sacrifice for the gods Sol and Lune. They were twin gods of the many gods worshipped in the mountains she lived in. Sol was worshipped for bringing the light everyday, hope, and joy, and chaos. Lune was worshipped for the bringer of moonlight nights, dreams, peace, and order. Both of the gods balanced each other out, until a few round moons ago.

Tragedy struck mountains, clouds constantly covered the sky. Few sunrises were seen anymore without the clouds blanketing the skies. Many of the animal hunted by her people suddenly went missing. Deer, birds, even the butterflies and bugs have gone missing. The golden birds of the sky and ducks no longer flew ahead. Jaguars no long graced the forests with their presence.

Moonrises, once bright and soothing, now became infested with dark creatures. Every sighting of them were different, deer with only bones and flesh. Some were of wild dogs with blood filled eyes and jaws, dark cracks throughout their bodies. Even jaguars, once so delightful hunted villagers with bodies made of smoke and fires of the sun. Villagers refused to leave their homes at night.

Few things were left in this once beautiful mountains. The few dogs and turkeys left raised for meat, survived only by what the villagers could spare. Sometimes lizards could be caught on the brighter cloud filled days. Water became as scarce as food, clouds never brought the tears of gods.

(Y/N) took a deep breathe, steadying herself for what was to come. She wasn't the youngest, a couple harvest seasons after age of marriage. But she was chosen as she had no family to protect her, having never married. She quickly made her way through the village. The looks on villagers faces varied, some were of anger, sadness, or other barely held any emotion.

She wasn't the first sacrifice to Sol and Lune. With the first round moon, a sacrifice was sent, but nothing changed. Her people sent another, but still nothing changed. Then with the last sacrifice, the mountains started returning to life. But a sunrise when the sacrifice came down from the temple, she was killed by the people of this village.

The villagers had recieved divine punishment. People were being hunted in their homes by the dark creatures of the night. Their livestock feasted upon by a massive golden bird of the sky that covered the sun.

The night to come was the fourth round moon since the tragedy started. And she was the fourth sacrificed to the gods. (Y/N) quickly passed as fast her shaking, exhausted legs would let her. She was almost through when a rock hit her in the back of the head. She ran then, not looking back to see who threw it.

(Y/N) kept running, fear guiding her way through the darkening forest. She broke through the tree line, stumbling over a root. She slowly stood up, her legs barely able to hold her up. Brushing offer her ceremonial clothing, she noticed her knees were scrapped and bleeding.

Looking up, a vast temple rested before her. It reached up to the sky in massive stone steps, each of many steps reaching far above her height. There were smaller steep stairs reaching up to the front entrance of the temple. Vast cloth covered windows graced the sides.

The flowers and water ponds surrounding the temple surprised her the most. All the flowers of different seasons bloomed at once. So many colors and varieties she had never seen before grew in vast fields. Dahlias, marigolds, poppies, and a sunlit colored flower that smelled like the sweet fragrance her mother used, grew as well. (Y/N) walked carefully through the fields, slipping through the rows of flowers and streams.

She reached the temple and started carefully climbing as best she could. (Y/N) stumbled a few times, nearly falling over on the steep steps. Finally making it to the top, the sun was going down over the far mountains. She turned around to rest and watch the flowers one last time.

(Y/N) was breathless from the sight before her. Each field of flowers formed together the sacred sun stone. Each color of flower was placed carefully, each flower meticulously planted. Nothing was out of line, creating the divine sun stone as only a god could. She sat until the sun sunk down below the mountains, it's last rays streaking across the cloud filled sky.

(Y/N) stood and turned around, finding a lit torch had been placed behind her. She desperately dusted her clothing off before picking the torch up. Steeling herself once more, (Y/N) stepped through the cloth covering the entrance.

A small gasp escaped (Y/N)'s lips. The inside of the temple was a disaster. Once beautiful wall paintings and carvings were scratched up, cracks running through most of it. Sculptures and pottery of all sizes were smashed on the floor. Jewelry of many types, coins, and varieties of beans scattered throughout the floor. Various baskets and wooden chests lined throughout the edge of the temple room.

(Y/N) walked forward, stepping lightly through the messes of the floor, reaching a pair of massive thrones and a sacrifice alter before them. Both thrones were massive, fitting for a being nearly twice (Y/N)'s height, the alter sized for someone as small as her.

The throne to the left was designed after Sol, massive wings of a golden bird held it aloft. It's head and body formed the seat and back. Lune's throne sat atop two deep colored jaguars' backs, their heads and tails form the arms, there was no back to it.

The alter, (Y/N) noticed as she walked around it was quiet simple compared to the rest of the room. It was a simple slab of stone, symbols carved around the edge, held aloft by a simple pair made of a jaguar and a golden bird.

(Y/N) looked around the temple again. There was no one to be seen, not a single noise made but her heartbeat and breath. She sat on the alter, still holding the torch. Patiently (Y/N) waited, but after some time she gave up.

Getting off the alter, (Y/N) noticed the torch hadn't gone out. It's flame casting a light as bright as the sun itself. She found a stand to place it on. Looking around again before pulling off most of her ceremonial clothing, leaving the base skirt on, her chest bare. Folding them up gently before placing them on the alter.

(Y/N) sighed to herself, the light from the torch casting almost to the walls before fading gently. She started picking up the jewelery and coins of the floor, carrying them in her skirt. She sorted them into piles on the alter before finding the smaller of the statues and gathering them up. (Y/N) placed them on the alter as well.

Larger statues, she either moved along a wall she cleared items away from. Standing the one she could upright that were to heavy to move. Searching through the baskets and chests, various items were held. In one basket (Y/N) found dried reeds and using a stick off the ground, fashioned a makeshift broom.

(Y/N) swept the floor as best as she could. Once she finished, the broken pottery and other items were in a pile by a wall. Staring up at the walls, there was nothing (Y/N) could do about them right then.

Exhaustion finally hit (Y/N), her body shaking from the exertion of the walk from her village and cleaning the temple. (Y/N) grabbed a few small unbroken pottery bowls out of a chest, transfering the items from the alter to the bowls. She placed them by a chest.

(Y/N) sat on the alter again, sleep overtaking her body. Laying her head on her small stack of clothes, she drifted off to sweet dreams of dark jaguars, golden birds and flowers.

[wc-confessions]

are aus that fix the problematic areas of hawkash considered problematic themselves? I’ve always been very confused as to whether or not those were ok

i've kind of answered something similar to this. but unfortunately aus do not alter the canon source, which means that even if your aus have good intentions they can be seen as problematic when compared to it's source.

like, for example, someone came to me talking about someone making an au where blackstar and sandstorm become mates... and if you thought about how that would work in canon its. weird. just ageing up a character so that you can ship them with someone canonically wayy older than them implies that you would have enjoyed the ship if the problematic aspects weren't acknowledged yk? and even if that's not your intention, others can and will see it that way.

i think the best, easiest solution would be to come up with ocs! you're avoiding conflicts and less likely to be associated with proshits. and like you can do so much more with an oc than an already conceived character

but if you're trying to repair a ship with an au, it entierly depends on what you want to fix to make the ship more to your liking. and considering hawkash has multiple issues itself, with it's age gap, toxic themes, and (lesser known fact ppl don't rlly mention) they're p much family, and it'd be difficult to fix since either way it could end up. bad.

so i believe rather than trying to fix the ship you can make up an oc to replace one of the characters. or ocs to replace the entire ship, which imo is better and prbly more fun.