#petra bit by spider

[fandomnerd9602]

Trying a Trend

Fem!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Life was going pretty good for you, the son of Iron Man, and your bride, Petra Parker; otherwise known as the Spectacular Spider Girl. The Avengers were thriving under your combined leadership. Tony was able to retire with Pepper and Morgan. Steve was able to go back in time to be with Peggy. Honestly, all was well.

It was a nice little time of peace. You and Petra were enjoying time as newlyweds while balancing it with college and being friendly neighborhood heroes.

It allowed you more downtime than you would think but not that either of you were complaining.

You spent a bit of time looking thru your tiktok account when you stumbled on a little video, a trend really that caught your eye. It gave you some thoughts, ones like maybe you should try it out on Petra to gauge her reaction.

So you got up and walked into the kitchen to find Petra making herself a PB&J sandwich.

“Hey baby,” she smiled, “do you want one?”

“Sure thing, my spider monkey” you continued, “but i want to try something first”

“okay. what?”

“I need you to trust me for this, okay?”

“always. what is it?”

You instruct her, “interlock your fingers”

She does so, “like this?”

“Yeah, now leave one set of fingers up”

She once again does what you ask, “okay what happens—”

You interrupt her by interlocking your hand with hers and lifting her arms above her head.

“Oh my!” She gasps happily as you gently push her against the wall. Instinctively one of her legs wraps around your waist. You pull her hips in close with your other free hand.

Petra throws her head back a little as she laughs, exposing her porcelain neckline. You kiss her neck and jaw.

“Baby!” She giggles trying to catch her breath, “that was…so sexy!”

“You’re sexy” you respond with a little wink.

“You Starks are such flirts” she replies.

“You knew what you were getting when you married me”

She bites her lips as her eyes jump from your eyes to your lips. She was pulling the triangle method as your dad called it.

You leaned in and kissed her tenderly. “My spider monkey”

“My iron knight” she giggles.

“Still hungry?” You ask with a smirk.

“Yeah, just not for lunch” she says before kissing you hungrily. She takes one of her hands and spider strength to spin you around and pin you to the wall.

The perks of marrying a wall crawler.

Tags @aloneodi @scarletquake-n7 @deafeningsharkslimeempath @supercorpdanbeau @ma1egamer @multi-fandom-enjoyer

[mara-tevith-solo]

It Takes Two

Part 2 is here finally

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x enhanced ex-avenger reader

Warnings: Angst, happy ending, kinda possessive Miguel, love confessions, mentions of injuries and medical stuff, self gaslighting, they finally stop being idiots

Words: 1.8k+

Rated: PG-13

You woke up alone and in pain. Well, it wasn't exactly pain as you knew it, but it was definitely discomfort. The right side of your chest felt like it was woven with lead and your head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, adding to your over all discomfort "You gave us all quite a scare!" A Spider-Nurse chuckled as soon as he entered your room with perfect timing, scaring the crap out of your poor little self.

"What happened?" You asked, your voice rough and popping from disuse, the heart monitor beeping in time with your fright.

He began poking and prodding, measuring your condition with his eyes and ears "Doc Ock got an extremely good hit in, sent you flying based on what Lyla said. Bruised your spine, gave you a stellar concussion, and a decent laceration in your right pectoral. It'll scar, but you'll live and that's the most important thing." He was rambling, but his words made everything rush back to you, including a certain confession to a certain someone. You wanted the floors of HQ to swallow you whole and never let you go. The very last thing you'd ever wanted to do was bother Miguel with your feelings for him, make him feel awkward and put on the spot. You were certain that he didn't feel for you as you felt for him, that there was no way he'd let himself because of the Universal difference that stood between you. "Head hurt?" The nurse asked with a warm tone, making you imagine the soft smile that lurked under his mask.

"Ya, just a bit." You nodded a little too quickly for comfort, passing off your emotional turmoil as physical discomfort.

He nodded in understanding before pulling your hospital gown down just enough to check on your wound "Let me just see how this is healing and I'll go get a Doc so they can give you something for the pain."

"Thank you." You said it as sincerely as you could, pulling what looked like another smile from the Spider-Person.

"You're very welcome." His fingers were gentle as he removed the bandage, not letting the tape pull too much. The air was cold against the wound, making it sting ever so slightly "Looks good, forty-five percent closed on it's own. I'll go find a Doc for you." He put the bandage back before leaving just as suddenly as he'd arrived, his steps just as quiet as every other Spider's.

It didn't take long for the Doctor to come, her white coat pristine over her dark suit "Hello Y/n, I'm Doctor Petra. How are you feeling?" She asked in that measured tone all Doctors seemed to use.

"Uncomfortable."

She nodded with a thoughtful hum, quickly putting on nitrile gloves and pulling back the bandage for her own peek "Well, I can confidently say you can be discharged today, the wound is healing excellently on it's own. And I can give you some prescription grade Ibuprofen for the pain if you want."

"No, I've got some at home I can use."

"Ok. Light duty for a while I'm afraid. No missions or heavy lifting until after your follow up, ok?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Alrighty!" She hummed, taking off her gloves and throwing them to the bin across the room "You're all set to go! Your clothes are there on the chair, take your time getting dressed and holler if you need help! See you in two weeks!" She got up and left your room before you could ask when in two weeks you were supposed to go back, but decided to not press it as you slowly stood and shuffled over to your pile of clothes stiffly. They were clean, mostly, save for the blood on your undershirt and jacket, but there wasn't a speck of dirt to be found. Getting your shirt on was hell, your wound not wanting to let you raise your arm up enough so you had to get creative. Walking out of the hospital wing was relieving, though seeing Miguel waiting for you at the entrance was a whole new stress in and of itself.

He was still as a statue as he waited, stoic as usual with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. You felt like you were walking into a lecture as you stiffly closed the space between you until there were only two feet left "Hey..." You greeted first, you voice soft and light in trepidation.

"Ready?" His voice didn't match his visage, it was light and warm instead of flat, his eyes that shade of garnet that was quickly becoming your favorite. You didn't trust yourself to speak, instead nodded and quickly falling into step beside him. His hand immediately found itself a home on your mid-back, warm and soothing, anchoring through your jacket. Addicting. You wanted to sink into the contact, and you could swear he sensed that as his fingers spread to increase contact, taking up nearly an entire third of your back. He didn't say or do anything as you both walked towards his office, just coexisted in the same bubble as people stopped and murmured around you. "So, I suppose we have something pretty important to talk about." His words filled the messy space as soon as the doors closed behind you, his expression instantly changing to something akin to teasing amusement.

"Oh?" You asked, pulling away from him to sit on a desk, needing to take the pressure off of your hips and back.

He raised a brow at your bid of ignorance, the corners of his mouth barely curling in a restrained smile that was fighting for freedom "Mhmm." He took a spot barely inches away from you, between your knees. Your heart was racing wildly in your chest, in his ears, your throat jumping in time under his gaze. He found it adorable, how nervous you suddenly were. "Something about me being pretty when I smile?" His smile grew in spite of his attempts to curb it as your eyes widened, realizing that he did indeed remember everything you'd said, and confirming to him that you remembered as well. "And how you've had a crush on me for the last year." He watched as you looked away, mortified, a dullness lending itself to your eyes. It concerned him, making his suit recede from his hands as he reacted for you, broaching the last few inches as he gently grabbed your chin between his thumb and forefinger and brought your focus back to him "Hey now." He cooed low in his throat, trying to coax you out of the shell he saw you constructing.

"I shouldn't have said any of that. It's unfair of me to burden you with my feelings. I'm really sorry, I promise to not make it a problem for you." Your words were hasty as they tumbled off your tongue, still not looking him in the eyes.

He ducked into your gaze, worried as you tried to shut him out and shut the conversation down, made you look him in the eyes as he brow furrowed "Why would it be a problem for me?"

"For a multitude of reasons!" Your voice was suddenly loud and you were willingly meeting his gaze, eyes swirling with a plethora of emotions, so many that he suddenly wanted to kiss away and chase out of your mind with all the love he could give you for the entirety of his life. "We're from different Universes for one! And you deserve so much better than me!"

His head tilted to the side as your words rang in his head. Did you truly believe that you weren't good enough for him? If anything, he whole-heartedly believed he wasn't good enough for you! "What?"

"I wasn't even good enough for my ex! He threw me away as soon as he could, after everything! I'm broken! You can do so much better than me. You deserve so much better..." You sniffled, tears falling fast and hard from your eyes.

Both of his hands found your cheeks, his thumbs tenderly brushing away your tears before he was pressing his forehead to yours, sharing air with you, hoping that his thoughts would be shared with you "Eres mi cielo, mi alma. Te amo, más que a nada." He rumbled into the minimal space "You are everything to me, Y/n. You always will be." He vowed, making your tears multiply as the words you'd longed to hear were finally in the air between you "I'm not Steve, I'm not going to leave you for a 'what if' because there's no one better for me than you. Because I love you. I want to grow old with you, I want to raise children with you, make a life with you. And only you. Only if you want the same with me."

Your heart was stuttering as you processed his words, as you searched for a falsehood you already knew you'd never find. You were nodding before you had a chance to get the words out "Yes, for a million years, yes!" His smile was everything to you in that moment, so broad you were sure his cheeks would be sore later, his eyes so bright they were like red stars.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked softly, moving so close that his nose was caressing yours, sending goosebumps across your body with a rush of thrill and anticipation.

You nodded, not breaking contact as his breath fanned your face lightly "Please do, Miguel." He didn't waste a moment, pressing his plush lips to yours feather light, testing the waters. It felt like he was being electrocuted in all the best ways, a tingle rushing up and then down his spine as your lips pressed so deliciously against his. He couldn't tell who deepened it, all he knew was that in no time your lips were dancing together, following a rhythm only they knew as you both clung desperately to each other, his hands under your shirt, touching as much of your skin as they could, while your hands were tangled in his hair. He could barely pull away from you even a few inches to catch his breath, your pupils blown as wide as his no doubt were "I love you." You whispered softly, smiling up at him so prettily. He groaned a growl as he dove into another kiss, devouring your breathy giggles as you kissed him back. You were finally his, where you belonged, and he was going to make sure you remained by his side, he was going to love you like you'd never been loved before. He swore it to the Multiverse. To all the Gods. To every molecule in his being. He'd love you til the end of Time itself.                    

[goitale]

RAHHHH WOF AU WOF AU

LONG YAP AHEAD!!! ++NOT ALOT OF LORE mostly whos what tribe(s) and a bit of stuff for lore munchers to ponder of :3

also i pasted from discord so ermmm oopsies

wof mcsm au!

notes: dom/rec for hybrids. for admins, like Freedom, they are no specific tribe, but first generational dragons.

reminder that beetlewings are the generation behind hive/silk seperation

noots

jesse- nightwing

petra- skywing

axel- mudwing

olivia- rainwing

lukas- seawing

reuben- scavenger

dragons around beacontowns' area r very mixed tribes but rainwings r considered primary due to cultural impact

jack- sandwing

nurm- rain/silk

vos- seawing

oots

ivor- sand/sea/ice mix (hes cool enough for 3) (65%/25%/10%)

gabriel- icewing

sorren- rain/sea

ellegaard- sky/ice

magnus- sky/night

ender dragon = very deranged darkstalker, "THE DARKSTALKER is a horror myth where þe shadows of þe ender world came to life and made a horrible huge dragon!!"

admins

romeo- primarily night, sky, sand genetics

xara- primarily rain, ice, leaf genetics

fred- primarily sea, mud, beetle genetics

stella- icewing

lluna- scavenger from the rich scavanger kingdom i forgot þe name but lluna hates champion city AND þat kingdom

~ after the bedrock...(no beetles)

freds keep has muds, ices, seas, silks

binta- sea/mud genetics

romeoburg has hive, night, leaf genetics

xara's oasis is deserted with mostly sandwings and rainwings hiding in the deserts

the warden- night/sky with a tail prosthetic due to explosions fun fact

the admin favors his genetics so the institute is primarily his grandx999 children that disappointed him because he þought nightwings and skywings were so cool

old builders

harper- beetlewing, in her episode the townsfolk r sands and a few sand/silks

purple suit guy- hivewing

blue hair girl-leafwing

harper's friend guy- silkwing

cassie rose- deranged rain/leaf, with lots of sloths

sky island dragons are primarily beetlewings and the mythical spider tribe

founder- hivewing

youtubers (fun fact, ices and rains have accents)

dantdm- ice/night

ldshadowlady- ice/sand

stampycat- rainwing

stacyplays- sandwing

sparklez- rainwing

þe first one þat died- skywing

"the white pumpkin"="the darkstalker", cassie pretends to be darkstalker myth :3

nell- sea/rain :3

em- sand/sea :3

*they communicate in aquatic! rest of their group r seas or sea hybrids for þis reason, Kelp team btw*

NOW FOR A BIT OF LORE ABT IT!!!

jesse gets random premonition dreams (aka a dream you have þen later on turns out to be true/þat dream happens irl) like every 6 monþs and therefore has sm fun stories to tell and every time it happens she IMMEDIATELY has to tell olivia and þeyre a duo ever

she isnt exactly a seer nightwing and petra is initially very confused by þis when jesse is like "yeah dont give your sword to a lady from anoþer city, petra!" þen it happens. and jesse explains

ALSO M JESSE EXISTS BUT ITS RLLY WEIRD AND ONLY SEASON 2

if yk jerboa and jerboa II's story, it relates to þem and þeir in-universe counterparts :3

[themayomambo]

I don't necessarily believe that the "Petra Hate Train" is real, but whatever the hell it may be, I'm gonna use it as an excuse to talk about Petra because I love her soooo much!

A bit of a ramble below the cut:

Firstly, she is such a stand-out performance vocally from Ashley Johnson's wicked talent. I remember seeing her talk about the role once, and it's extremely clear that even though this was essentially a minecraft game more on the silly adventure side of things, she absolutely gives it 100 percent. I love how she starts the game as this cool loner type that oozes with a facade of confidence in her voice until she is forced into a state of vulnerability with the amnesia/wither sickness. Then in the portal arc we see a dorky competitive side revealed further and Ashley just excels in the balance between the dork who is finally free to adventure with friends after being solo, and also revealing the sap underneath who's probably wanted this for so long. Something that stood out to me after season 1 again was how truly frustrated she can get with Jesse if they take Hadrians deal. With just how Ashley played and was directed, you'll be able to tell that she cares a lot more for them than she usually lets herself show and just how much everything's been taking its toll on her in particular.

Secondly, Petra is so cool! Minecraft as an adventurer is difficult, especially in the hard-core world that mcsm takes place in. So many times, an excursion will end in a death or just getting utterly and completely lost. But Petra is implied from the beginning to be pretty good at what she does enough to have a bit of notoriety with her nature and behavior. One of the first scenes she's in being to save Jesse from a spider while attacking it rather viciously with nothing but a pickaxe? That's badass. Something that I love we got to see during the portal arc was to see just how exhilarating it was to have people match her skills beside her and just watch her let loose without the sickness/amnesia.

I could probably go on and on about more stuff but I'm just gonna leave it at these two points because I don't wanna keep writing this post for days. Maybe I'll make a petra deep dive video or something someday

[haldenlith]

Binary Stars - Ch 1

I come bearing an interesting little thing. Remember my occasional rambling about my mind concocting a seperate universe with Uldwyn (base Uldren) and Hal? And it's a cyberpunk styled universe with magic? But it's not the Destiny universe? But it uses a lot of story elements and themes from it? And that I was hesitant to call it an "Alternate Universe" because of that? Well I started writing on that. Decided to start things actually from Uldwyn's perspective, and... I don't think I'm going to explain much past that. Just keep in mind this is different and not Destiny. Also, the "Arachas" are this universe's Eliksni. They're renamed because of being physically different. I don't know if I'll put this on AO3 or not given how and what it is. Also title is a working title. I'm at a loss for a better one. (Essentially put a Turian from Mass Effect, a Predator from the Predator series, an Eliksni, a spider, and a Necromorph from Dead Space into a blender -- congratulations, you have an Arachas.) Anyway, there is a content warning for suicidal ideation and general mature themes.

They trudged through overly sanitized, brutalist corridors of biocrete and steel. Tight grips on tired arms, dragging him along, boots echoing and drowning out the softer patter of his bare feet on the cold, cold floor. Lunar Penal Facility K-1 was nothing like the prison back home. His people’s prison. Petra might have thrown him in there and thrown away the key, but at least he was left with some dignity there.

Earth Coalition’s government had other thoughts on what inmates of their maximum security prison got. Dignity was not high on that list. It was low, scattering the floor in the processing room, with his hair they’d so unceremoniously shaved off. Clothing stripped away, discarded, as guards looked on upon his naked body, packing rifles high powered enough that he’d be little more than meaty splatter on the walls if they felt so inclined. They probably did, they just valued their jobs more. Undergarments and a jumpsuit was issued in place of the dirty but finer, high quality garments he was dragged in wearing.

He started to dig his feet into the polished floor, started to fight. The faint hum of servos whirred as the cybernetics on one of the guards kicked into a higher gear, wrenching him along, forward. His feet caught, and he felt their hands loosen.

They let him stumble and fall face first into the hard floor. A metallic taste graced his mouth. He’d bit his lip hard enough to bleed. A stinging pain that was nothing in the face of what he already felt.

“Get up.” They grabbed him, dragged him to his feet, hauling him in front of another guard – clearly an administrator, tired and uninterested in any inmate’s woes. His orange eyes inspected them, focusing. A Full-Body. Those weirdos that went and got themselves turned into robots. Green optics stared back, a modulated voice scoffing.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in, bloody and beaten. What do people refer to you as now? ‘The Butcher Prince?’ If I had my way about it, we’d chuck you outside and let you suffocate to death outside the O2 zone, but that’s too good for you.” The clicking and clacking of keys on the keyboard followed. A metal collar was fitted onto him, connecting into the port on the back of his neck. His own cybernetic eyes glitched and struggled to refocus. Everything did in him. The thrum of magic in his magitek augments died. It wasn’t a collar.

It was a muzzle.

He glared through the thick crysglass window at the administrator click-clacking away on the keyboard. “From this day forth, you are no longer Uldwyn Sov, you are simply Inmate #7050. I don’t know what kind of tea and crumpet shit you got back in that Plutonian prison you busted out of, but you’re not getting any of that shit here. We do not give a fuck who you were before, you are Inmate #7050 now, and you are just as much a piece of shit as every other inmate in here. Welcome to Lunaris K-1.” The FB’s green oculars narrowed, and the modular voice added in what sounded like a sneer, if they had the ability to make any kind of a facial expression, “Enjoy your stay.”

Clockwork. Everything was clockwork. Wake up was at 0500. Breakfast was at 0600. Showers, every other day, at 0730. Duties started at 0900, ended at 1700. If you behave like a good dog, you get a snack somewhere during that. Dinner was at 1800…

Part of him appreciated the rigidity of the schedule. There was no deviation. Deviation equaled punishment. Simple. Effective. It filled the void for all of a week.

Breakfast at 0600.

“Hey! Hey you, you smarmy bastard. I had family on Pluto. Family your fucking alien cult murdered.” Uldwyn kept his eyes on his food, tuning the man out. It was bland. “Hey, you fucking prick, I’m talking to you!” It was food, so he couldn’t complain, but he’d certainly had better.

A crude shiv was produced and aimed at Uldwyn. The man learned quickly how hard the tables were as Uldwyn dodged and responded in kind, grabbing and slamming the man’s skull into the table enough times to ensure he was unconscious. He went back to his food. The cafeteria was a little chilly, or maybe he was just still adjusting to the breeze he could feel on his head. The fuzz was growing out, but in its current form, the sparse, stubborn bits of white stood out a bit more against the dark black of his hair.

More people saddled up to the table.

Uldwyn heaved a sigh. “I’m really not in the mood.”

All of a week was all that lasted before his first real prison fight. He grunted as he was slammed back into his cell. The cybernetic shackles let out a shrill beep before disengaging, allowing him to get his arms apart. He sat on the bed and stared at the floor.

He pondered why he dodged the shiv.

Dying was easier.

“Dying is easy. You don’t get to have easy.” That bastard’s voice echoed in his head. He looked up and saw other inmates through the heavy steel latticework geometry of the front of his cell. Challenging glares and hungry eyes. He was a bird of prey with clipped wings in a den of hungry wolves, gnashing their teeth.

Dying. Was easier.

He had nothing to hope for. No spark burned inside. Not any more. It was all burned to the ground.

The next fight was during Duties. Back in the cell.

His people hated him.

Another fight at Breakfast.

His sister was gone.

The showers. That one was particularly rough thanks to the slick floor. He couldn’t help but feel like the guards had been intentionally slower to respond that time.

Even the people on Earth hated him.

“He’s done. He has nothing left.” He could hear that bastard’s voice in his head better than his own, at times.

Two fights in one day. Two different groups. The first was during Duties, which had been cleaning this time. They learned how well trained Uldwyn was, and how anything could be a weapon with him. The second was during Dinner time. That one was the worst. He was hungry. He didn’t get to eat anything.

Even the Arachas gave him a wide berth. He had a target on his front and back. He was arguably the most dangerous inmate in the prison, going by what he was in there for. Anyone else that had achieved his body count had been killed.

Dying was easier.

They got the easy way out.

He was shoved into a new cell. Four walls. Biocrete painted white. Sterile. Cameras, tiny, violating, sitting the corners. The thick door re-engaged behind him.

The Butcher Prince finally had his own kingdom, solitary and isolated. How kind.

A new schedule. Wake up at 0500. Breakfast at 0530, arriving through a slot, heralded by a mockingly cheerful AI.

“You have approximately thirty minutes to consume your designated meal. The tray, with utensils, is to be returned to the receptacle for evaluation. Missing utensils will result in a mark on the inmate’s record and immediate cell search.”

Showers now only occurred once a week – he assumed it was a week, it was hard to tell anymore – at 0700.

Then… nothing. Nothing. Nothing but his thoughts. Nothing but the silence. Nothing but the faint hum of a vent blowing in recycled oxygen.

Dinner at 1730.

“You have approximately thirty minutes to consume your designated meal. The tray, with utensils, is to be returned to the receptacle for evaluation. Missing utensils will result in a mark on the inmate’s record and immediate cell search.”

Lights out at 1900.

He curled up on the cot. His hair was just long enough to run his fingers through now.

His face itched. He’d not had a beard in… a long time. Even if it was only scruff.

Wake up at 0500.

Breakfast at 0530.

“You have approximately thirty minutes to consume your designated meal. The tray, with utensils, is to be returned to the receptacle for evaluation. Missing utensils will result in a mark on the inmate’s record and immediate cell search.”

Silence.

Dinner at 1730.

“You have approximately thirty minutes to consume your designated meal. The tray, with utensils, is to be returned to the receptacle for evaluation. Missing utensils will result in a mark on the inmate’s record and immediate cell search.”

Lights out at 1900.

Wake up at 0500.

Silence.

Wake up at 0500.

Dying was easier.

Silence and the same four white walls.

DYING WAS EASIER.

Wake up at 0500.

DYING WAS EASIER.

Why didn’t he let her shoot him? Why did he not shoot him?

Wake up at 0500.

DYING WAS EASIER.

He hated him.

Wake up at 0500.

Silence and the same four white walls and the memory of the man that put him here. “Now deal with the consequences of your fucking actions.”

DYING WAS EASIER.

He wanted to die. He didn’t want to live with this.

Wake up at 0500.

IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT.

This was hell.

YOU DESERVE THIS.

They should have killed him. The gun was there. It was loaded. It was pressed to him even after Petra was knocked unconscious and it was right there and he was staring right into those cheap dollar store synth-optics that the idiot had dared to compare to his own and he remembered sneering at the man and saying, “What are you waiting for?” And the man still didn’t do it.

Why didn’t he do it? That’s what he tore across the kingdom to do, right? It was to be a reckoning? Wasn’t it? IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE. THE GUN WAS RIGHT THERE. JUST SHOOT.

I DESERVE IT. I DESERVE TO -

“Hey.” Uldwyn jumped at the voice. His orange eyes darted around the cell, the sleek cybernetic irises shifting and focusing rapidly as he inspected his space. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He’s losing it. Of course he’s losing it. He already lost it. “You’re not crazy.” More voices in his head. More lies. Something new to come and whisper lies in his ear. “I’m sorry that happened to you. You were vulnerable. They preyed on that.” You’re just like them. “No, I’m not. Here, let me show you.”

A soft glow materialized in the room. A ball of light, pure, warm, with other wisps dancing around it. Barely larger than a baseball. It was like a rainbow. So… inviting. It undulated as it spoke, soft and kind. “See?” Uldwyn stared through his bangs at the ball of light only two feet away.

So inviting and suspicious.

“… Uldwyn, you have officially lost whatever was left of your mind. Well done.” The ball made what could only be best described as an “exasperated circle” in the air while sighing.

“You’re not crazy! I’m real! I’m right here. Everyone here has loud thoughts, but yours are… especially loud. It’s like they’re screaming. Over and over. And you’re very bright. Your aura, that is. I’m sure you’re pretty smart, too, but I just wanted to clarify that.” Uldwyn arched up a brow.

“Bright. Right. And how do I know you aren’t some fresh new horror to torment me?” The ball of light dimmed, as if sulking.

“Oh. Well… I suppose you don’t know. All you can do is trust me.” Trust. What a peculiar word. He scarcely knew it anymore. A sigh escaped him. It wasn’t like he could do anything about this strange Entity choosing to occupy the cell with him. He pressed his back against the cold wall, stroking the short beard he now had. A short, patchy coat of black and white. At least his face didn’t itch anymore.

It was nice to hear a voice other than that of the AI.

“I know it’s a bit invasive to have done so, but in poking through your memories, I’ve seen other versions of you. I’d say you looked quite dashing clean shaven. Maybe that would make you feel better? Cleaning up? It’d at least be something to do.”

“What a wonderful idea. Let me just walk out and ask for a sharp object while languishing in prison. I’m sure they’ll just hand that and some shaving cream right over.” He didn’t even know what he looked like, truth be told. There were no mirrors in the cell. The only “luxury” he was granted was the luxury of knowing the time, communicated via an e-ink clock above the console by the door. Well, the console was a luxury, too. He wasn’t completely cut off. He could… make requests.

Hm.

“Oh well, you know, I was just… trying to figure out a way to cheer you up. Or… something.” The ball of light drooped, sulking. Uldwyn stood and lazily sauntered over to the console. It was sleek. A flat panel of glass. He pressed his hand to the sensor. After a moment, it beeped. The AI voice greeted him once more.

“Inmate #7050, what is your request?” He arched up an eyebrow.

“Um… I know this is a long shot, but is it… possible to get something to shave with?” It was ludicrous, but it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. The worst that could happen is being told no. There were a few moments of silence as a loading circle twirled on the glass.

“Inmate #7050, your request has been denied on the grounds that you would be armed with a sharp object with which to do harm to yourself.” That was exactly what he expected. “However –” He perked. “You may request to pay a visit to the barber facility that is provided as a form of enrichment to inmates. You have accrued one enrichment credit, which is sufficient for one visit.” He blinked a few times and glanced back at the ball of light floating in his room.

“I… alright. Yes, I… I’d like that. I wish to request a visit to the barber facility.” The loading circle appeared once more.

“Inmate #7050, your request has been approved. You now have zero enrichment credits. You may accrue more via good behavior. Your appointment is at 0630 tomorrow. Your allotted shower will follow.” Interesting. Uldwyn turned to look at the light floating by his cot. It shifted colors for a moment. He assumed that it was pleased with itself.

“… I’m not giving you any praise for this idea until after this ordeal, tomorrow.” The ball drooped in the air.

“Oh, alright,” it replied dejectedly. He returned to the cot, plunking down onto it. Dinner would come soon. Hopefully. “Still, at least you’re getting to have a little change of scenery, right? So that’s good.” Lamenting his inability to actually scan this odd little entity, he stared at it.

“So, what are you?” The ball of light expanded briefly, seeming to perk up.

“Oh, well, um… My kind doesn’t really have a name. We just kind of exist. I’ve heard some people call us ‘wisps’. Though, looking at the technical terminology of what is often defined as ‘wisp’, I don’t really feel that’s entirely accurate.” Uldwyn shook his head, which prompted his bangs to fall into his eyes.

Idly pushing his hair back out of the way, he inquired, “Okay, not a wisp. If I’m going to be stuck in a cell with you, I’d like to have a name for you or something.”

“A name! Right. A name. Um…” The ball floated back and forth before conceding, “I… don’t have one of those, either.”

“Of course you don’t.”

“Why don’t you give me a name? It can be a token of our new friendship!” Uldwyn affixed the light with a deadpan stare.

“Friendship.”

“Yes! You seem like you could use a friend!” An unintentionally deep jab by the odd little fellow. A soft groan sounded from Uldwyn as he pinched the bridge of his nose, letting his eyes slide closed.

“With all due respect, considering my past encounters with strange magical entities and creatures – which you appear to be aware of, thanks to rifling around in my head – I’m not particularly inclined to refer to you as a ‘friend’,” he paused, cracking an eye open. “A name, though… I think I can work with giving you a name, at least.” He let his hand fall to his lap and he stared at the ball of light. Smaller dots of light would sometimes flare and split off, orbiting it, before rejoining the mass. Like solar flares or…

Sparks.

“Sparky.” A new response was exhibited from the ball, as it seemed to frazzle and ripple in an irritated fashion.

“What?! No. I don’t like that name.”

“And I don’t like being confined to a cell for the rest of my life, yet here we are. You’re Sparky.” Sparky made a sound like a groan, sinking in the air.

“It’s awful, though! It makes me sound like I’m a dog or something,” he whined.

“Fine. Don’t have a name, then. I’ll just call you ‘Thing’.” Another new response: Sparky seemed to flatten out somewhat, resembling more of a flattened ellipse of light than a ball. He then returned to his spherical shape.

“Fiiiiiiine. I guess I’m Sparky, now.” Sparky’s presence made time tick by a bit more quickly, and before he realized it, Uldwyn heard the sounds of his food being delivered, along with the usual AI announcement about stealing utensils. The food was bland, as usual, though it was nutritious enough. As dehumanizing as the “Lunaris K-1” prison facility was, they did seem to at least try to keep the inmates fed and taken care of on a base “keep you alive” level. He’d hardly call “meeting the bare minimum” anything worth celebrating, though.

The harsh LED lights illuminating the room automatically shut off at 1900. Sparky was like a little nightlight in the darkness. If the security cameras watching the room could see him, there had been no indicator of it. Uldwyn still mostly suspected that he was hallucinating. Hallucinations were what got him in this mess, so how grossly fitting it was for him to be plagued with them in his darkest moments.

“Is my glow going to bother you? I can vanish for a bit so that you can sleep.”

“It’s fine.”

“Alright. Well… Good night, Uldwyn.” It was strange, perhaps even bizarre, to be wished well under the circumstances. It was ridiculous, even. Yet it was a small comfort, none-the-less. Not that it stopped the restless sleep, tossing and turning, punctuated by nightmares of laughter and screams.

O BROTHER MINE.

Sparky floated closer, summoned by the faint whimper that sounded from the slumbering man, only to dart back when Uldwyn woke with a cry, bolting up. Panting, he ran a hand over his face, trying to collect himself. He glanced to Sparky, who remained where he was, only a foot away.

“Are you okay?” The little light asked softly. Uldwyn simply growled softly and laid back down, pointedly putting his back to Sparky. He still found himself instinctively curling up, trying to find some sort of self-comfort. After a few moments, he heard soft humming behind him. He opened his eyes, but he didn’t turn around.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to help. I thought maybe a lullaby would help,” Sparky replied. “Do you… want me to stop?” Uldwyn stared into the darkness, silently contemplating the question.

“No. Go ahead.” The humming resumed. He couldn’t help but wonder if he was falling for the same trap all over again.

[unplugged-spirit]

For anyone interested in my last post i feel like. I should make a Petra info dump bc i made her in 2018 and shes changed a lot.

Should note, Shes one of my main player characters in a TTRPG in a SCP universe. Where people with anomalies are treated better in the foundation and they have a task force called "Nexus" which deal with world ending threats. In this universe she was bitten by an anomalous spider harbouring the gift of Arachne which gave her spider powers :)

here is her current design of her more tactical fit

(i was trying to find a good middle ground of, spider suit and tactical gear )

Her current design has white streaks in her hair and naturally brown hair because she died last year and was only managed to be resurrected by a non developed clone of one of her team mates. So shes a bit taller than she used to be.

she looked like this before she died

dying took a bit of her whimsy ngl.

We also had a small set of sessions n stuff set in her origin story. Where in her internship she got bit and then her aunt was killed in a containment breach (she was about 18) She let who she thought was the killer die to the monster but harbours immense guilt about it after she found out he was likely innocent.

this action will have conquences.png

lmk if anyone has any questions about her bc ild info dump any day of the week about her

[petra-creat0r]

Petra's chapter 3 concept

Welp. I finally caved and gave into the full prediction. Or at least my take on Tenna, Mike, and Rook. (Plus a shop keep for Bitsy)

Are my takes on Rook and Tenna a little safe/cliche? Probably, but I still like them. Especially Tenna. She's a silly fella. A real wiser cracker. They berate Mike over their hyper specific coffee order off camera.

I might also hear you asking "Petra, if your Rook and Tenna are horrible people, how are they supposed to mirror Asgore and Toriel?" IDK. I just wrote that down and am still working the take out. Additionally, while they'd be parallels, they wouldn't be one to one. Most of how I imagine them atm is they're how Kris wishes Asgore and Toriel were when it comes to their relationship. Aka, loving and together. Rook and Tenna are horrible people in a healthy relationship, Toriel and Asgore are relatively good people who's relationship wasn't working.

Again, I don't know, I'm still working on it.

Also Mike. I think Mike is my favorite take/design of these three. Overworked, tired, boom mic operator/stage hand who hates it here. Even prior to Rook meeting the Knight and making changes to the studio, Mike was generally under appreciated and didn't like all the entitled actors he had to work with. Especially Tenna. Only person he's worked with who he's actually liked and gotten along with was Spamton, who I imagine did some commercials back in his Big Shot days. (Oh if only Mike knew what Spam was going through in those days... The horrors.) As for Mike's opinion on Bitsy? He tolerated her, pre- the spider's popularity. I imagine after Bitsy signed that contract with her mysterious benefactor, she became a little bit of a brat off camera. Before just completely going off the rails at least.

Just some more notes on stuff. Rook is based on the TV remote and Tenna was originally just a game show/variety show host before Rook started cutting corners and costs and so now half the channels are hosted by Tenna or sponsored by TennaVision. Tenna is either the TV itself, or more likely just the antennas. Mike's of course a microphone. Maybe a speaker idk. I've said in previous posts that Bitsy is an old VHS tape and Lanino and Elnina are just on there for another frame of reference. They're the weather channel, I doubt there's any argument about that.

Finally, the shop keep. V.C. Ramsey, aka Grampa Ramsey. He's based on a VCR player and the nursery rhyme, "Baa Baa Black Sheep". Ramsey is the shop keep connected to Bitsy, and they used to be old friends before you know, the whole mystery man stuff went down. The VCR details may be subtle, but I still like Ramsey's design. I could listen to his stories for hours.

[rocksibblingsau]

i'm gonna be real honest right now, and this is gonna be long....your I'm Gonna Make This Place Your Home fic has had me in a choke hold since i found it like a week ago. it's so good and i love it and i've always loved the Rock Trolls (probably because thats the genre i've gravitated to the most since i was a kid) but i just adore the characterization, the exploration of Branch growing up in a different culture, exploring Branch's trauma. Barb being a big sister, Branch actually having a dad.

just i am in love with all of it.

i have so much i want to say but i don't know how to put it into words. it's also nice to see this one and another fic of Branch being raised as Rock called Burning Branches AU where Branch loses his memory and gets adopted by Thrash. like i don't mind the AU's i've seen of Branch being like half Rock or something but having Branch be in a sort of Cooper situation, adopted into another genre, just hits what i've wanted to see.

this fic has me chomping at the bit for more, and i can't wait for more.

and i will say this as well....Trolls has been a sort of guilty pleasure of mine since i saw the 1st movie on Netflix back in like 2017. it was something that looked like a fun time and an escape from college assignments and i liked it well enough. when, World Tour was briefly on Netflix in like 2021, or somewhere around that time, it was good and i loved the fact we got to see different genres of trolls.

but hooboy! when Band Together got added in like early August this year. i underestimated how much that movie would make me actually want to read trolls fic. and i gotta say i've got the trolls brain worms now and this fic has just been living in my head and rotating it like its in a microwave and studying it like a bug.

i am also the anon that said that So Called Life by Three Days Grace would be a song i could see Branch writing when he finally starts wring songs, and the anon that wanted Branch to where the shirt Val got him of Spider's band the 1st day of school to see his reaction in front of Val and Petra that this was the one who dethroned him at the arcade as a power move.

i also loved the idea of in ch 26 Branch thinking about what his life would have been like if his egg was found by Rock Trolls. i hope that is an idea either you or someone else will explore because now i really want to see that!

This means so much to me. Thank you, and thank you for reading my fic!

Branch being half Rock is a very interesting angle, but I really like the idea of Branch not being Rock but being Rock, if that makes sense. Identifying with their values despite not being a Rock Troll by blood.

Branch being adopted as an egg would be SUCH an interesting world to explore, I definitely have a few ideas about it if anyone wants to pick my brain about it.

[sillysnaildraws]

(Well that one post certainly got my attention..)

So... mcsm ask! Do you have a favorite dynamic between two characters(or more) in the game?

Also, I love your art! It's so pretty and sparkly

Mwah ha ha! My genius plan worked! >:3

Thank you for the compliment!

Favourite dynamics? Ooh, you know I'm gonna ramble! I might end up talking about all my favourite ships and friendships!

First up, gotta talk about the friendship between Lukas and Radar, like oh my god. It's so cute and supportive. Like, nervous wreck and one who keeps him calm and rational? Yes, love it. Also, that scene in the background where he is teaching Radar how to fight is so adorable! Such a wholesome friendship, I'm dying.

Now, one of my favourite ships that I don't really see much of unfortunately, Admin Shipping (Fred x Romeo x Xara). Like, in the best circumstances, it is so cute! I kinda see it as Caregiver/Soft x Gremlin x Serious Girlboss. Though Xara and Romeo are bit mentally fucked up, especially with the backstories I give them which I have wrote an AO3 fic about, and the two bounce off each others moods, both positive and negative which can lead to arguments between them, Fred is always there to calm them down. I feel like Xara and Romeo are really bad with saying "I'm sorry", while on the other hand Fred apologises too much, Romeo and Xara found a different way to show apology: cuddling! When the two are in a bad mood, they don't really wanna be touched so cuddling each other after an argument is their way of saying "I'm sorry, we're good now." Ogh, I could talk about them all day but I need to move on to the next dynamic before I get too silly and write a whole essay on them.

Right, ok. Another friendship I like is Xara and Jesse. It might sound a bit weird but hear me out, think of it as like doing all the best interactions with her. Jesse helps her to trust again, after being betrayed by one of the people she loved and I love that. Especially with how they would take care of her. Xara would probably try and help Jesse and their friends when the spiders show up but Jesse would just give her the bed and tell her "Go to bed right now. You've done enough, ok?" I feel like this would catch her off guard because she's not used to people caring for her. Though it also would work vise versa, with Xara protecting Jesse from monsters throughout their time together. I could also see Jesse helping her rebuild the Oasis post season two!

Ooh, I also like the dynamic between Petra and Jack! In my head, it screams Father Daughter relationship! The way Petra looks up to Jack is so adorable, like just seeing hop around in excitement upon meeting him, ogh my heart! And the way Jack takes care of her too, alongside not wanting to disappoint her when he felt scared being in the place that killed his other friends.

God, I love the block characters!

[psalacanthea]

this is for everyone but mostly @tadpole-apocalypse who is of the very correct opinion that Astarion's sibling Petras is in dire need of bullying. I happen to agree, so I took a small break to write something in post-game. :P (is spoilery for my current fic but not hugely)

...

Astarion couldn’t be back soon enough.

People were trying to get Zynatheri to decide things, and utilize her power and parcel out judgments, and she just didn’t want to!  The way she’d explained it to Astarion was most sensible.  They were making a society of vampires.  The politics were going to be corrupt!  Why not start the corruption from the top, where it belonged?  She’d much rather be his puppet than do work.

And now Petras had showed up, knowing Astarion was gone, and demanded an audience.

She’d already been in the bath, of course, which meant she’d had to heave herself out, throw on some slippers and her robe, and storm down to the meeting room.  And then on top of that inconvenience, the part of the palace they did have access to was massive!  Enormous ebon corridors where every step echoed, gigantic frescoes of her horrible ancestors and their horrible spider goddess, every surface slick and shiny obsidian.  Even the smallest light penetrated far here.

Echoes, too, which she rather thought was the point– every single sound carried.

Dwarfed by the architecture, a clammy bite to the air making her skin prickle, Zyn passed through the hall and into a freshly emptied chamber.  The last of the crumbled stone had been moved, the bowed-in stone wall on the left side propped up and tidied up as best as they could.  It still looked…rough, but they had seven– six now– thousand vampires to look after.  Cosmetics were still a far distant concern.

Before they could try to hire stonemasons or wizards, they had to ensure said professionals wouldn’t be eaten the moment they stepped into the city.

It was rather touch and go.

Passing by a low torch, Zyn clutched at her robe, annoyance turning into frustration and amusement as she mulled over the irritating arrival.  Of course.  The instant he found out Astarion had left on an expedition to scout further into the city, Petras came to poke at her.  After all, she was a surefire way to draw Astarion’s attention.

And Petras very much did want Astarion’s attention, like any annoying little brother.

Not that she knew much about siblings.

In the antechamber outside of the meeting room, a huge vaulted space of ebon columns and recessed ornate sconces of blackened iron, Zyn paused.  She tucked her fingers into the component pouch at her belt, searching within until she found her sending wire.  Untangling it from the mess, she lifted it to her lips and hummed softly into it until it vibrated in her palm.

Closing her eyes, she sent her voice to her beloved.  “Petras has come to try something.  Little schemer.  I’m going to offend him terribly, so please be prepared.  I love you, dearest, so be careful.”

While she waited for a response, she tucked her wire back away.

Astarion’s voice reached her mind within a few moments.  “And I love you.  If he dies, he dies, but do try to keep him alive?  We need him to do the work we won’t.”

He’d managed to just hit twenty five that time!  Oh, excellently done.  His rhythm and pitch might be horrid at best, but her darling could handle a bit of wordplay.  

Steeling herself with that slightest snatch of Astarion’s voice to comfort her, Zynatheri began to do something she had to do so rarely now.  She was going to play a part.  Glad she hadn’t gotten dressed, she loosened the neck of her dark green, velvet-trimmed robe, letting it slide off of her shoulder, lazy and careless.  She tugged out the comb in her hair, letting it untwist, uncoil down to her ankles.  The delicate golden comb went behind her ear, contrasting the silver of her swaying hair.

Lazy, idle, uncaring- decorative.

An easy enough ruse.

With the embroidered silk of her robe sliding up her arms, she reached up and pushed open the doors.  Normally they were left open because they were so bloody big.  Petras must have closed them behind himself, for some petty purpo–

“Forgive me, sometimes I don’t know my own strength.”

The doors were pulled away from her hands, her weight shifting dangerously, and although she knew it would likely aid in making a complete ass of Petras, she still couldn’t bring herself to fall into his arms.  Yuck.  Avoiding his hands, she caught herself and stepped back, staring at him through the now-open doors.

Gods.

She looked at him critically for just a moment– hair unfortunately similar to Astarion’s again, despite the fact that he didn’t have the curls for it.  He was wearing his nicer set of clothes, which should have been respectful, but wasn’t.  All it meant to her was that he really was trying something.

“Yes, that’s clear,” she said sardonically.  His strength was severely lacking in areas other than physical.  A complete lack of charm, for one.

And he wanted to be Astarion?

The very idea was laughable.

Petras stepped back politely from the doors.  “I’m sorry, I should have reassured you.  There was no reason to hurry.”

Why was he being nice?

Ew.

“I didn’t,” she replied, swanning past him and heading for the far end of the table, where her and Astarion’s seats overlooked the rest.

“So you intended to meet me in…wearing that?”

Hells, she wanted to put a hole in him.  Or some lightning.  “I wear what I like in my home.  Please leave your notions of ‘society’ behind.  That world rejected you.”  She turned at the head of the table with a flare of her robe, hair annoyingly clinging and twisting.

Gods, right, this was why she kept her hair up or shorter.  Ugh.  It was so heavy.  “I would rather speak of a new world.  One that we create.”  She sank into her chair, gesturing for him to take his.

Much further down the table.

But instead, in some sort of power play, he walked up the line of chairs, running his doughy hand along each one.  Zynatheri tried not to be judgemental, but she was a bit of a snob when it came to hands.  His fingers were short, and not tapered elegantly.  They were repulsive in a way she hadn’t known she’d felt until they were attached to the man himself.

Now every time she saw someone with similar digits she would have no choice but to be disgusted.

“You cut your hair again.  I thought you’d been so determined to grow your hair out, now that you’re a ‘full vampire’ at last,”  Zyn said, refusing to be cowed when he leaned on top of Dal’s chair and stared down at her.  Sometimes it was difficult being the lone mortal.  

“You can’t still be holding a grudge over that,” he said, annoyance touching his face.  He even leaned back a little, his body language betraying his attempt to manipulate her by seeming friendly.  Well, more than friendly. "I didn't mean to kill them."

"But you did."

Here she’d thought he was coming to whine and threaten, but instead he was attempting seduction.  As much as these siblings of her lover infuriated her, she felt a deep and profound sympathy for them all.  They had all been harmed in the same ways, and had some of the same behaviors, and she could not help but give them grace.  Which was Astarion’s fault.  He was the one who had softened her heart to his past suffering, after all.

Was it any wonder that concern now extended to his siblings?

It was a strange sensation, the simultaneous desire to protect and care for them, mixed with the constant desire to cause them harm– bully them– both mentally and physically.  Was that what they called…siblings?  If so, a great many things she had read and witnessed in her life suddenly made much more sense.

 All of that to say, she was worried that if Petras was trying to seduce her, there was something very wrong with him.  That was dangerous.  The family, co-ruler, victim and tormenter both dynamic they all had was precarious, volatile.  If it collapsed, so would their delicate, tenuous grasp on the spawn in the city.

That might mean death for them all.

“Whatever you need, if it’s reasonable, I won’t block you– in fact, I’ll help you.  There’s no need for this,” Zyn said firmly, hoping that was all it was.  Maneuvering, and not…lust or a desire for her blood.  If it was bloodlust she could just smack him silly and not feel guilty. "I have no desire to pretend we're friendly."

A well-placed bit of vicious mockery and she’d have him sobbing.

In response, he leaned towards her, Zyn holding her ground with annoyance as he came closer.  When his hand darted out, grabbing her by the neck, she only felt relief.  Oh, good.  He’d come to do something stupid.

Petras glared down his nose at her.  “Listen here, cattle.  You’re going to watch your tone and do what I say, or I’ll snap this pretty neck of yours.”

Coming from Astarion that would have been attractive and threatening; Petras just managed sullen and bossy.  Hardly impressive.  Plus, the cattle thing, which was stunningly unattractive.  She stared at him flatly, eyes half-lidded, lips pursing into a line.  His hand tightened, fingers pressing into the sides of her neck.

Ugh, no, if she didn’t retaliate he’d ruin choking for her with those shapeless, ugly hands of his.

Rather than say something snide, she gathered her rising anger and breath while she still could, and screamed directly in his face.  The thuderwave hit him full-force, and Petras went arse over teakettle, hand ripped from her throat as he slammed into the heavy stone chair and then went tumbling to the black tile, landing heavily on his back and skidding.

“That’s it?!” she demanded, voice fighting with the echoes of her scream.  Zynatheri  shot to her feet and stomped after him, eyes blazing with fury.  “All of this just to do your best Cazador impression and attack me?  You pissing malcontent!  You whey-blooded simpleton!  Astarion isn’t stupid and your plan isn’t clever.  He’d uncover what you've done, and then you'll be dead!”

Petras pulled himself up to his elbows abruptly, hair just cut back into his old mimicry of Astarion’s falling into his face, making him look all the more stupid.  “I am fully capable of hiding a body!” he retorted, vibrating with pure offense.

Her own fury rose in tandem.  How dare he think for even a moment he’d be capable of killing her?!  “Even if you failed your way into success, he would never stop until he found out what had happened to me,” Zynatheri retorted, stepping in and kicking him back down to the floor, her hands balled up in her robe.  He started to struggle back up but she stepped in, planting her foot and shifting all her weight onto it. 

She ground her heel into his chest.

“You will listen to me.  Astarion’s survival is all that matters to me, and you being content enough not to do anything foolish is important to me because of that.”

His scarlet eyes blazed, lips pulled into a sour, furious grimace.

“All of us are better off because you are alive, so stop trying to die,” she said, dragging her foot across his chest as she pulled back, heel pressing the whole way.  Dropping her robe, she smoothed her hands down her soft hips, glaring down at Petras.  “But never forget– you are beneath me.”  She smiled, slow and mocking, their eyes holding with a vibrant intensity.  “So stay beneath me, or I might notice you when I’m feeling less…altruistic.  Your oafish presence offends me.”

His fingers clenched into fists.  “How dare you.  Let go of me!”

“Let go of you? You are entirely free to go,” she said, gesturing with one hand.  “Have you forgotten where the door is, I wonder?  What a very poor memory you have, Petras.  You attacked me.  Don’t play the victim.”

Why the Hells was he still lying on the floor?  She wasn’t even that strong, she couldn’t have kicked him hard enough to do any damage.  What a dramatic little twit.

Well, if he wasn’t going to leave first–

It was petty to step on his shoulder on her way past him, but she did it anyway.  A test, perhaps, to see if he would retaliate, but that was just an excuse.  The little arse had annoyed her.

He made a small sound in the back of her throat as she ground her weight into his shoulder, but that was all she heard apart from the soft echo of her own footsteps.  When she glanced back at the exit to the meeting room, he had pulled up to sit and was staring at her, rage barely contained.  She smiled, sweetly.

“Next time your humiliation will be public.”

Oddly, he didn’t snap back immediately, but the intensity of his stare grew all the more intense and venomous.  Perhaps he was learning some self-control.  When he spoke at last, it was mocking.  “I can wait.  Sooner or later, Astarion will tire of playing with his food and you’ll be just as dead.”

Was he trying to get her to smack him around more?  Ugh.  As if she was going to rise to such poorly crafted bait.

“See yourself out, little brother!” she sang mockingly, spinning dramatically and swanning through the doors.

It was an excellent exit despite the insults he was shouting after her, which she was quite smug about. Zynatheri shuffled through the antechamber, yanking her hair over her shoulder so it would stop twisting around her ankles.  Very good, very dramatic, hair like this, but she’d forgotten what a nuisance it was.  Well, Zyn might as well go chop it off.

Part of her did regret not teaching the brat more of a lesson, but– wait.

Had he been trying to get her to slap him around a bit more?  Was that all on purpose?  If so, that meant…oh dear.

Malice and misfortune, of course it was.

Zynatheri knew it was a waste of what power her poor body could handle channeling in a day, but Astarion was gone and she needed someone to share this with.  Without him, what was the point in anything?  If she couldn’t speak with him, why speak at all?

In her haste, mirth bubbling like a spring, mixed with the delight of sheer horror, Zyn Sent to her beloved without counting the words.  “Darling, oh my beloved viper!  My sanguine heart.  Come home, I’m suffering.  I may have just accidentally fed one of your brother’s fetishes.  Sorry–”

Her fingers clutched around the tangle of wire in annoyance as she was cut off, lips pursing.

“Well,” Astarion responded in her mind, highly amused, “I suppose curiosity killed my little fox, didn’t it?  Poor darling.  I’ll be home before you know it.”

Pouting to herself, she went skulking back to her bath to scrub the feel of his hand from her skin.  All she could do was hope she was wrong, and hope it never happened again.  Zynatheri had a small, sneaking suspicion that this was far from over, however.  Gods and archdevils, she wanted to kick the little pissant around some more.

But if he liked it...

Ugh, having siblings was complicated.

[fandomnerd9602]

Closing a Book

Fem!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

They say when one door closes, another opens. For you, the door closed on one Wanda Maximoff and another opened on a miss Petra Parker - the spectacular Spider Girl.

You loved every minute of every day you could spend with your spider monkey. She was incredible in every sense of the word. You loved spending time with her Aunt May and Petra loved spending time with your family.

But something always bothered you. When Wanda decided to dump you for Vision, it left you with many questions. And those questions pounded on your mind daily.

You needed to find the answers. So one day you took a little jaunt up to the town of Westview. Despite how they had hurt you, you bought a small suburban house for the happy couple. They were still Avengers and a Stark always looks after their teammates.

You walk up to the front door of the nondescript house in the middle of a suburb in Westview. Was this a good idea? Was Wanda gonna catapult you off her porch with a blast of magic.

You ready yourself to knock the door but Vision opens the door and gives you a gentle smile, “(Y/N), it’s wonderful to see you.”

“Hey Vis” you give him a little hug. In truth, before this whole Wanda thing, Vision was the closest thing you had to a brother. You kind of missed these little interactions.

“Come on in. Wanda’s in the guest room.” He guides you into the living room.

Wanda comes down the stairs a few seconds later, covered in a little bit of paint and caulk. “Detka I can’t find the screwdriver” she tries to tell Vision but she gasps when she sees you, “(Y/N) hey”

“Hey Wanda”

“What brings you by?”

“I-I can come back later. Remodeling? Or are you trying a new style. Cause it works for you”

She gives you a smile, your jokes were never that good but she loved it, “no no I’m…I’m decorating the nursery”

“Nursery? You and Vision?”

“Yeah we’re adopting. Two little boys from Salem.” She explains.

“C-congrats. You’ll make a great mother.” Your mind briefly races, “so uhh…the reason I’m here is…well that is to say…I-I…”

Wanda’s eyes quickly flash red. She gives you a sad smile, “you want closure”

“Y-yeah I guess so?” You find yourself a little confused that she was able to word in such-

“I read your mind, Stark” she gives a little sad laugh.

“So…” you try to formulate what you need to say, “what happened to us?”

“Let answer with another question. Did you love me?” She looks you in the eyes, no anger only compassion.

“Yes” you answer, “but it seemed like you and Vision were…were…”

Wanda takes your hand, “I know. That was my mistake. It was never you.” A few tears make their way down her face, “You were amazing and thoughtful but you were never mine”

The words cut you a little deep. “Oh”

“Vision and I we just…click. What’s it like when you’re with Petra? When she holds your hand.”

“I feel every problem melts away,” your mind wanders to Petra. “I love her smile. The way she looks at me and her family. The way she upstages me and corrects my math or fixes a design”

Wanda lets out a little laugh, “see? I tried to comprehend what you were saying most of the time but I couldn’t.”

“Really? I’m sorry” you try to hide your face a little.

“No it’s great. You’ve found your other half (Y/N) Stark. Don’t let her go.”

You look to your phone, its wallpaper being an image of you and Petra together. Your heart flutters. “I won’t. Not now, not ever.”

You give Wanda and Vision hugs and depart back to New York. You drive straight to Petra’s apartment.

You knock on her door. Aunt May answers, smiles and lets you in. You walk right over to Petra who’s currently sitting on the couch.

“Baby?” She asks, getting to her feet. “Where have you been? Are you alright?”

You simply hug her tight, you bury your face in the crook of her neck and breathe in her scent.

“You’re my other half” you whisper in her ear.

“And you’re mine.”

Tags @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @jacenradio7 @texaswolf23 @russianredassassin @revanshand @pinklawyerwinnerzonk

[ahamkara-apologist]

you have GOT to post guardian pics I'm begging you. feed us (me?) information about your characters. I must know. it is imperative

TYSM FOR ENABLING ME ANON BC THEY ARE MY BLORBOS AND IM VIBRATING ABOUT THEM. buckle the fuck up because this is gonna be a long fucking post

Okay first up is Aeris Sharphawk- aro/ace, he/him. he's my main character, my hunter, and the Young Wolf of my timeline.

He’s half-Awoken, half-Human (I’ll get to that in a moment, he’s actually an older oc of mine that I ported over from Bloodborne whose bastard nature needed a D2 equivalent), and the older half-brother to my solar titan, Marcelline Attenbough- one of the few little remnants from their past life that they were able to discover in a diary on Marcie’s corpse when they were rezzed together (which occurred because their ghosts are twins). He’s autistic, lawful neutral, and vastly prefers using Darkness over Light because of sensory issues; his ghost (Hoarfrost, previously Mercury) mods his helmets to drastically reduce noise, but he can’t help how Arc tingles, Solar burns, and Void numbs. Tends to spend most of his battles either hyperfocused or dissociated to deal with it. As for the lawful neutral title, that’s because he doesn’t fight for the Vanguard because of a loyalty to humanity, but exclusively for the survival of the Last City and everyone in it. This extended to House Light and the Cabal under Caital instantaneously, and would do so to Eramis if she so chose, because he really just doesn’t take most things personally. He's sometimes derogatorily called 'the Vanguard's Hound' because of this.  

He’s skilled with a bow, and is cursed with a resting haunted stare that can rival even the fiercest bird of prey- hence his title, given to him because his last name wasn’t present in the little diary that Marcie had when they were rezzed. Personality wise, he’s quiet, stoic, extremely efficient at what he does, fiercely protective of those he loves, and deeply curious about the unknown- though if you don’t know him, you’d never be able to guess it, because he struggles deeply with facial expressions and tone, giving him the appearance that he’s ruthlessly cold and unfeeling (pretty much the Guardian we see in game). Because of this, he tends to do much better with Eliksni than most of humanity- bar the Awoken, though Mara makes him deeply uncomfortable- and is thus far more comfortable with them. He’s the moon to Marcie’s sun, and helps keep her in check, for despite her cheery personality, she has a very strong sense of justice and a penchant for impulsive, temperamental behavior when she thinks that justice has been wronged. This goes both ways, however, as Aeris is the very definition of ‘curiosity killed the cat’; he voluntarily gets bit by venomous snakes at venom labs to see how immunity/allergies develops over time, and has a fascination with the Vex that got him a ‘needs watching’ report after he nearly jumped into a pool of radiolaria to see what would happen. The older-brother affection isn’t related to just Marcie, though; he’s unofficially adopted Eido as his younger sister (or kid? Because uhhh that curiosity of his has extended to fucking Misraaks once or twice), and is a mentor figure of sorts to Crow, though he’s unaware that Crow idolizes him; he only hunted Uldren down to keep Marcie out of trouble, as he didn’t like Cayde and was neutral on Uldren, so seeing Crow for the first time didn’t bother him at all. Tutored on occasion by Osiris, and thus has a very deep respect for him. 

People other than Marcie that he likes:  Zavala, Ikora, Osiris, Eido, Misraaks, Eris, and Variks, Petrichor-12 (oc), Viper-4 (oc, lightless guardian), Crow

People he dislikes: Cayde, the Spider, Clovis Bray, Savathun, Mara Sov, Petra Venj (can’t read her very well), anyone who is loud or insistent or confusing 

Primary class (Dark): Stasis

Primary class (Light): Arcstrider

Motifs: Dark, cool blue/silver, viper and hawk symbolism

Likes: Learning about things, working with the Eliksni, being good at being a hunter, bows/glaives/swords, playing with Strand, Gambit (surprisingly)

Dislikes: Crucible, loud noises, fusion rifles, snipers because of the kick (despite being very good with them), shotguns, fans and most other guardians 

Fun fact: When Hoarfrost and Solaris found them, it was in a frigid part of old Russia, with Aeris holding Marcie close to his chest with his back to the door- they had frozen to death while trying to keep each other warm, and were under a thick layer of permafrost. When they were risen, they found out their names, their relationship to each other, and the fact that their father was a cheating bastard who produced Aeris after screwing an Awoken woman for the novelty of it because Marcie had a little diary in her front pocket, which had been somewhat preserved by the cold. Both their ghosts theorize that the reason why Aeris is so drawn to Stasis and Marcie to Solar is because of how they died, though neither guardian will say anything about it. He can also speak near-fluent Eliksni.

.

Then there’s Marcie, younger half-sister to Aeris and the sun to his moon; she/her, Solar Titan, lesbian, lawful good. Where he is quiet and introverted, she is loud and bombastic, and where he likes to dart in and strike down his enemies from afar, she likes to punch. I just recently made her in Destiny because the character creation doesn't really match how I see her, hence why she's got Arc on here

(closer to her actual face minus the blue eyes; this is a very old bloodborne pic)

Unlike her half-brother, Marcie is a full human, and- according to the diary she rezzed with- was objectively her father's favorite, though the feeling was not mutual, and their relationship was strained by her taking so kindly to the bastard son he tried to send away. Compared to Aeris, she's bright, bubbly, and outgoing, but has a fierce temper, and is quick to snap if something has pushed her too far-think a jack russel's terrier of a human being. Her ghost's name is Solaris (previously Quicksilver), and she prefers the Light and Solar by far. Her preferred method of combat is to hit first, ask questions later, which can be incredibly effective or incredibly dangerous depending on who's on the opposite end of her wrath. Her and Aeris share many quests together, with me typically attributing all the seasons that I didn’t play to Marcie, given that I didn’t make a Destiny character for her for the longest time. 

She was best friends with Cayde, and was so devastated by his death that Aeris had to go instead, as she would have killed anything and everything in vengeance without a second thought. She did, however, kill Riven- something that Aeris himself was somewhat reluctant to do,given his fascination with the Ahamkara. She's stubborn as a mule, surprisingly strong despite her small stature (well, small-ish), and is an absolute massive lesbian, with her type specifically being 'big strong ladies who can kill me'- which was primarily why she wasn't allowed to fight Eramis, or other big hotties, as she has a pretty hardcore crush on her. (The second reason was that she would have stood and bickered with Eramis about the ethics of what she was doing until either one or the other yielded). Instead, she was assigned to work with Misraaks to evacuate House Light refugees, which ended up being a fortuitous partnership with the coming of the Endless Night. Now, her primary work for the Vanguard consists of aiding Eliksni refugees, along with general alien-human politics and tackling xenophobia, as well as working on being an apprentice Splicer. She is very, VERY passionate about equal rights and will drag you to the Crucible if you fight her- and good fucking luck winning against her, because she fucking loves the Crucible and will beat your ass everytime. She’s somewhat of a local celebrity in that reguard

Her deep fondness for her brother comes primarily from the fact that he is one of the few people to take her seriously without either asking her to calm down or come off as patronizing- he's also a well of stability to her excitable moods, the voice of reason to her hyperempathy. While he keeps her from biting off more than she can chew, she acts as his translator + guide, yanking him back onto the path of sanity if he starts to wander into the Deep, and helping him with dysfunction things that Hoarfrost can’t do. She also enjoys working through the data he collects, even if she has no desire to go searching for it herself, so they make a good pair- even if, like most siblings, they will argue over every little thing and sometimes drive each other up the walls with their stubbornness.

I've already mentioned that she got along with Cayde, but her other friends at the tower are Shaxx, Drifter, Saint-14, and Ada-1. Misraaks is her mentor, as well as one of the few people who can talk her down from stupid shit, with uh…questionable results. And while she couldn't stand the sight of Crow when Aeris dragged him back, she managed to befriend him reguardless, mostly because he was so different from the Uldren she remembered that she couldn’t help but accept him for who he was. She often went out drinking with him and Amanda, and was devastated when she died. 

People she likes: Cayde, Shaxx, Drifter, Saint-14, Ada-1, Misraaks, Crow, Amanda (rip), Caiatl

People she dislikes: Uldren Sov, The Osmium Siblings, The Spider, Lakshmi-2, anyone against the Eliksni or people who are rude to Aeris, Calus

Likes: Crucible, Gambit, fucking around with weapons in new and creative ways, going out to drink with friends, playfully flirting, helping with construction work around the Eliksni District, playing around with the Light, moths and other fuzzy creatures

Primary Class (Light): Solar

Primary Class (Dark): Strand

Dislikes: Fighting Eliksni, any exploding enemies that she can’t punch, bows because Aeris will always be better than her at using them, the fact that Aeris fucked Misraaks at one point for science, being alone, her inability to score a girl who isn’t a war criminal

Motif: crimson and gold, bears or lion with eagle wings

Fun fact: Her grasp on Eliksni is actually more fluent than Aeris, and she spends a good deal of her time in the Tower socializing with people while he’s off doing…whatever.

.

Okay, now onto Petrichor-12, who decided to nope out of being a Guardian so I deleted their slot to make Marcie before I really did anything to dazzle them up

Petrichor-12 is a now-retired guardian that actually came from a dream I had before I even played Destiny. They/them or he/him, neutral good, Void titan, ghost is seldom-speaking and called Whisper. Neutral good. I attribute them with D1 content, so they’re the guardian that killed Crota and Oryx, though Marcie and Aeris were also there to help.

Petrichor is an older, somewhat quiet, melancholy do-gooder that's been haunted by guilt ever since they found out the memories of who they were via the Deep Stone Crypt- a bodyguard for Clovis Bray that was turned to a path of anger, abuse, and violence after agreeing to be tested on for power, and got corrupted by the Darkness. This, paired with being rezzed in the Dark Ages, means that they have a lot of trauma surrounding violence, power, and the dilemma of being made to kill when all you want to do is save people. As such, Eramis's predicament troubles them greatly, and while it was them who gunned her down in conjunction with Aeris, they often found themselves returning to her frozen body on Europa to talk to her (presumed corpse) about Darkness corruption in a sort of venting monologue-advice system, which worked both as a way of fending off their troubles as well as keep an eye on her state- though now that she’s defrosted they’ve vowed never come near her again out of embarrassment. 

While retired, they are a stalwart defender of anyone who needs it and a keeper of peace, driven partially by a genuine desire to do good and a need to prove themselves not the person that they used to be. No longer able to mingle with other guardians or humanity at large due to PTSD from what they learned, they live in the Botza district as an ambassador between the Eliksni and humanity, they like to knit + quilt in their free time, teaching whichever hatchlings will listen and getting tutored on weaving by old Wolves in return. They're also 6'3", so…lorge. Zavala and Misraaks are the two people they talk to the most outside of the Eliksni refugees, and they drop by to say hi to Eva and knit with her whenever they have the chance. The war with the Witness is threatning to bring them out of retirement, something that they are deeply unhappy with. 

People he likes: Namrask, Misraaks, Saladin, Zavala, Ikora, Osiris (recently), Marcie and Aeris, Saint-14, Eris (complicated)

People they dislike: Themselves, Osiris (formerly), Eramis (reminds them of themselves), Ghaul, Oryx, Xivu Arath, Clovis Bray, anyone who goads them to fight, Elsie and Ana Bray by association, Rasputin 

Motif: gold and sapphire blue, used to have a gryphon motif but stopped wearing it because they don’t want to be recognized as the Kingkiller

Likes: Knitting, sewing, weaving, gardening, really anything restorative they can do with their free hands that forces their mind not to wander

Class (Light): Void, sometimes Arc

Class (Dark): no.

Dislikes: War, fighting, being a guardian, everything that has to do with what they used to be, anything Braytech sciences, the cumulative trauma from the Dark Ages and seeing recordings of who they used to be in the Deep Stone Crypt, their own fear of themselves

Fun fact: Petrichor-12 can speak Eliksni fluently, having modulated their voice and hearing to be able to incorporate the subsonic clicks and chirps in their speech, and is now working on learning Ulurant despite not at all liking the Cabal empire

.

Ash: Another dream character of mine, and my newest Guardian (so she’s somewhat of a wip). She/her, solar + void warlock, chaotic neutral to lawful evil depending on her mood. Pansexual but bitchless. Rezzed in the tail end of the Dark Ages, just long enough for her to see how horrible everything was but not long enough to see the true extent of it. Scholar of the Light, and most recently a scholar of the Dark as well.

Ashe is a warlock with an awful temper, a moral code that changes on a whim, and a ravenous appetite for knowledge that comes at the cost of everyone else, including herself. Her ghost (an anxious and caring little lass) is called Nutmeg, and is pretty much the only indicator that she has a soft spot. Ashe dedicated herself to learning how to get closer to the Light, but unlike the more conventional meditations that people usually do to, she was inspired by ancient Greek priestesses and decided for a more unconventional route- by doing hard drugs. By getting either extremely drunk or very high, she claims that she overcomes the need for meditation (or, rather, bypasses it entirely because she’s too impatient for it) and gains a deeper connection with her powers, as she’s connecting with it instinctually rather than choosing to seek it out. Nutmeg and many others are not as convinced about this method, but they also can’t deny that it doesn’t have its perks, as Ash does have a very powerful connection to her light- mainly through exploding things, or setting everything around her on fire. It’s how she used to survive the Warlords she’d steal from in the Dark Ages, and she’s known specifically for her ability to mimic a nova bomb, but with solar power, which is strong particularly for how unexpected it is. 

However, being constantly hungover and harbouring no friends doesn’t exactly have its benefits, and as a result Ashe is almost always grumpy, abrasive, quick to anger, quick to turn to cruel jibes and mocking when being defensive (which is often), and is generally awful to be around. She has no friends other than Nutmeg (whose bond has become strained as of late, since Ashe is now turning to substance abuse for coping with the impending threat of the Witness rather than simply using it for her studies), her apartment is an uncleaned shithole she only uses for crashing in when she’s particularly out of it, and she's constantly in a state of passive-aggressive warfare with Osiris, as she and him used to occasionally cross paths and share research; they might have had a student-teacher dynamic if they didn’t grate so abrasively, and if Ashe wasn’t so much of a lone wolf. He’s tried to whip her into shape a couple of times, but to no avail- they just devolved into shouting matches. Pretty much the only people she listens to are the Drifter and Nutmeg, but whether or not she’ll actually take their advice is a toss-up. 

Despite this, she will overall always choose to do what's right and will begrudgingly trudge along with people in random strikes to ensure that important missions get done, as she fears failure more than she does judgment. And yet, to an extent she also fears judgment, for part of the reason why she’s so cruel is to keep people at arm’s length, so as to prevent them from learning her weaknesses- not even her constant complaining about being bitchless will cover up that the core reason why she makes no effort to clean herself up and be nicer is because she fears vulnerability. She’s also brilliant with the Light and cunningly adept with the Dark, which is why the Vanguard continues to ask for her help and expertise.   

People she likes: the Drifter, Hawthorne, Nutmeg, Eido, Toland, Shaxx to most everybody’s surprise

People she dislikes: Pretty much the whole Vanguard and 90% of other guardians, Saladin, the Iron Lords, Osiris, Misraaks, 

Primary class (Dark): Stasis, wants to learn Strand but has a hard time letting go

Primary class (Light): Solar, Void

Likes: Learning nuances of the Light that others don’t go into detail to, connecting with the Light, growing more powerful and shaping it into new, experimental Supers that would make Zavala have a heart attack if he saw them in action, taking leadership in Strikes and prodding around New Lights to teach them about what it is to be a Guardian (but gently), killing assholes to put them in their place, spooking people

Dislikes: Being told what to do, being reminded that she’s a mess, being reminded that she’s afraid and that her behavior is starting to turn self-detrimental, being looked down on by other Guardians, the restrictive nature of Vanguard protocol that keeps her from playing around with her experimental supers, guardians who have no respect or care about mortal lives, getting kicked from bars for fighting said guardians with no respect or care for mortal lives, being reminded that she has a soft side and cares so much for other people that it scares her

Colours/theme: black, flame-gold, and green

Fun fact: Likes the Hive aesthetic, and knows their tongue just for the hell of it. Has quite a bit of fun tormenting and taunting Hive Lightbearers, loves digging around the Osmium Siblings. Despite this, she’s not passionate about the Hive, and doesn’t care one bit if they’re wiped out or not. She also pretty much never takes off the Stag helm, as dropping a rift on death has saved her ass more than once, and tends to sleep in her robes. It’s a miracle that she doesn’t stink something awful, but smells perpetually like smoke instead.

.

and last but not least: Viper-4, an ex-guardian who I have almost nothing on because he tends to be a side character: he/him, trans exo, primarily black chassis with red markings, not yet settled on alignment. A friend of Aeris, he's an ex-Hunter who is now the primary caretaker for a variety of venomous snakes whose species have survived the Collapse. He collects their venom to try to recreate old Golden-Age medicines and antivenom- which he does with Aeris's help- and had his forearms modded with soft silicone so that the snakes don't hurt him if they bite him. Generally a friendly and chill guy, but has a melancholy air as most Ghostless do, and wants to learn Strand so that he has some modicum of control over the elements again, as his lack of feeling the Light was the hardest part about his Ghost's death. Much like Brya and Sagira, his ghost sacrificed her to save him, but he blames himself for her death and pretty much entirely refuses to talk about it. Used to be quite adept with Void. I note that he's trans here because it carried over into his exo body, as he was raised with synthetic top surgery scars that were then worked into beautiful engravings of flowers, swords, and snakes by Viper-1

[carolina-star]

So many, many days later, after I watched Spiderman across the spider verse I decide to redraw the spidersona I did back when into the spiderverse come.

So here we go again: She's Winona Petra Parker from Earth982 (In the future) she's Peter Parker's granddaughter, her aunt is Mayday Parker and her father Benjamin Parker. She's part of a big spider family (her aunt, father, two older cousins and a big sibling for the moments).

Her suit it's in the choker, because aesthetic and technology.

I change her suit a little bit and added some things. And her spider name, I changed it and let's pretend it's has always being like this.

Here's the old version of Winona

[vixxelle]

OUYGHSH the amount of GASLIGHTING and ANGST Romeo can afflict on Petra is giving me the shivers me timbers

Like Romeo has seen every aspect of Petra’s life up till the Sunshine Institute, he knows all of her trauma and insecurities, what makes her tick.

He uses her growing guilt of Reuben, The Witherstorm, and her mother to drill the idea that she HAS to be his champion (AKA become his vessel) in order to ‘repent’ for ‘all the crap she put others through’.

Oh I can see it know:

Y’know what Petra, fine, go ahead and wander off to Jeb knows what to frolic about… I’m not really surprised, more like disappointed… I thought that opening my arms to you and giving you and your friends shelter and guidance would make you more thankful for what people do for you, hell, I even made you my CHAMPION and gave you all the love and praise - at least more than you deserve - and yet you repay me by being an ungrateful brat.

Oh I knew I should’ve chosen Jessica… Sure, you were the won that won my little games, but unlike you Jessica never put anyone in danger or fucked anyone’s life up. Jessica never acted entitled to anyone’s time, wander off like a stray ocelot. Why, she’s an angel compared to you! You used to be so eager and sweet, such great Champion material… But once I give you a task that was a little bit harder and messy than the usual, you just crumble up like paper and hobble about like a goddamn zombie. Oh heaven forbid you do some actual champion work rather than strutting around like some goddamn aristocrat.

All your life, you’ve been meandering around leeching off of anyone who gave a small speck of a shit about you. You go on all of these wacky hijinks instead of doing your goddamn job and then throw a tantrum when your friends have other responsibilities.

And when someone like me, THE ROMEO comes to you and offers you power and a way to repent by helping me create a better world, you take it for granted and act like a thorn in my side!

Stella’s more obedient than you, and she’s a bumbling buffoon!

In fact, Stella’s actually quite smarter than you!

At least she doesn’t put her friends in danger, at least she wasn’t as much of a brat that her own mother abandoned her, at least she didn’t abandon her friend over some petty bullshit, or gave some weird shaggy old man a fucking key to his plot of mass destruction for some measly diamonds, or was a burden to her entire friends during their quest to undo the damage she inadvertently caused, and got one of her closest friend’s pet killed.

Unlike you, Petra, Stella actually has a purpose in this world. Stella actually cares about doing her fucking job. And Stella wouldn’t jump into a pit of Cave Spiders to prove that she’s so tough.

Just admit it, Petra, you know goddamn well you are responsible for everything that happened to you and others. I know how badly you want to undo the damage you caused, and here you are! You have the opportunity to repent at your disposal!

…

…My dear, the only reason I’m hard on you is because I want to mold you into a better person! This position is giving you the position you wanted all your life! The hero who gets showered with praise, the hero who everyone looks up to, the hero who helps everyone! I’m willing to give you this if you just follow my orders and care for the Sunshine Institute…

You want Jessica and Radar to be safe, right? You want to make your dads proud, right? You wanna go back home, to Beacon Town? Don’t you? You wanna see all of your friends again, right?

You do, right?

…

Right?

…Yes, Romeo

Good. Now get out of my sight and guard the patients. And stop wasting my breath and time…

[bubbytheliverstealingskeleton]

Hey hey heyheyheyheyheyhe

Mcsm gripping me by the throat

I need to show you all my creatures headcannons because I think most of the main mcsm cast are weird guys

Lukas is an ocelot (because small cat man you can’t take this away from me)

Jesse is a weird bird (idk why I’m pretty sure it’s from an old au of mine

Axel is a creeper (he has creeper molt all over him to me, he cannot explode but he can chew the shit outta things)

Soren is an enderman (he is secret creature, he didn’t know he was creature until after he spent like forever in the end)(he used to only has the ears)

Ivor is a spider (I can’t really explain this one he just kinda Is. Yeah)

Romeo is the weirdest creature to me

Radar is tall bird tall bird man

Petra is like weird, like after the wither storm was destroyed her sickness did technically go away, but it kinda came back a little bit later and gave her a cool arm

Gabriel is a dragon, this is also from an au

All of the admins are such weird creatures like you don’t understand they are so ggwrgwwgrgrgr

[maddieautobot273]

Silk & Cologne (27)

A Miguel O’Hara x OC Series - Link to AO3 (X)

Chapter 27 - Progress - previous chapter (X)

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Female OC

Words: 3.1K+ words

Warnings: PG for sickness feelings 

Summary: Lisa is called into an emergency meeting at HQ.

////////

After the surprise visit and comfort from my friends, I suddenly didn’t feel as sad anymore. Despite how heartbreaking it was, I established with Miguel that if he didn’t feel comfortable telling me how he truly felt, he didn’t have to. I never specified about our friendship, so deep down I knew a part of it was still intact. 

We’ll just give each other the space we need to heal. That’s what’s important right now. That’s what matters the most. We were both grieving after all. 

I woke up the next morning with a bit of spring in my step. It was the weekend now, meaning I had time off work to basically do whatever I wanted to do. Hannah’s orders specifically, “You need to rest all weekend so when you come back Monday morning, you’re feeling 100%!” 

She then kindly asked to borrow my kitchen and baked me a whole container of oatmeal cookies. Hannah is obviously so sweet, I could get a toothache, but it would be so worth it. How is she not with someone and spoiling them rotten and letting them shower her with gifts back already?!

I start the day with a light breakfast before cleaning up some of the empty moving boxes that were taking up space in the apartment. Soft music was playing from my phone, as I felt inspired by my friends to make a new playlist. The song they showed me yesterday was the first one that came up.

I quietly sang along as I cleaned. I could sense the gentle hum of my gizmo, their pulses shielding my web fluid and calming them. I knew as long as I had it on, my powers wouldn’t trigger in my dimension, else I could cause more damage to it. 

I glanced down at the gizmo, lifting it up as I examined it more clearly. I wondered when the day would come where I wouldn’t have to wear this while in my home dimension. Perhaps when I could control my powers completely? When my universe was finished repairing itself?

When it accepted me as its Spider-Woman?

“There never was a Spider-Woman in Earth-1218, and there never will be,” 

Those were Miguel’s exact words during our initial meeting when he showed me the multiverse for the first time. Why was it that my universe was so different compared to the others that it can’t handle the concept of an actual superhero helping to protect it?

I was zoned out of my trance when the gizmo started beeping and a holographic image of Jessica Drew appeared above it. 

“Lisa, are you busy?”

“Jess, hey, what’s going on?” I asked, a little concerned. 

“There’s been an incident in Petra’s dimension,” She explained with a grim expression on her face. “Miguel is asking everyone who was involved in the mission to come to HQ for an emergency meeting,”

“I’ll be right there,” I nodded firmly. 

I reached up to end the call, but Jess’s voice caught my ear. “By the way, how are you holding up?”

She knew? 

“I’m. . . managing,” I responded after a brief hesitation. 

“If you need an extra shoulder or need some girl talk, I’m just a phone call away,” She offered with a caring grin. 

“Thank you, Jess,” I smiled at her before ending the call. 

Personal feelings would have to wait. Right now, my friends and teammates needed help. 

I ran for my closet, changing into my spider-suit. Personal feelings would have to wait. I just hoped Petra was alright, and that it wasn’t anything too serious. 

I activated my gizmo and opened a portal, jumping through as I arrived at Spider-Society HQ. The main hall was lively as usual as I made the journey to Miguel’s lab. I passed by different Spider-People, saying hi and offering small waves as I walked by, not wanting to be rude. 

When I stepped into Miguel’s lab, the atmosphere completely changed. Yes, I was used to the whole low light, dark gritty aesthetic look to Miguel’s lab, but overall it felt like there was a shift in the air. It was worse when I rounded the corner and found everyone. 

I was the last to arrive, joining the circle as I stood with Hobie, Peni, Ham, Gwen, and Pav while Miguel was in the center of his platform that was on the ground floor, Jessica Drew and Princess Petra flanking his sides. Petra looked a little shaken, but did her best to stay calm as she held her wrists over her stomach. Hobie nudged my side in a friendly greeting, offering me a curt nod.  

I glance around at the others, silently greeting them all until my gaze lands on Miguel. I noticed he was looking at me too. Our eyes met, and I could feel my cheeks flush slightly. My eyes darted to the floor briefly, hands behind my back as my palms began to sweat. I haven’t really talked to him since the other day. 

Personal feelings would have to wait.

I slowly pulled my gaze up from the floor and looked back at him. His gaze was softer towards me, as we both seemed to silently ask each other, Are you okay? A silent recognition. 

I managed enough courage to bring one hand up from my back, offering him a small flicker of a wave of my fingers. Hands on his hips, he managed a tiny half smile as he slightly bowed his head towards me. We’ll talk more about this later. A silent promise. 

“Now that everyone’s here, we can start this meeting,” Miguel spoke up as he motioned to his sides where Petra and Jess were standing by. He waved them both to step forward. “Your Highness, Drew, you two have the floor,” 

“I was in charge of Multiverse Monitoring when I received an urgent message from Princess Petra regarding the newest villain Lisa, Gwen, Pav, and herself apprehended after rescuing Miguel,” Jessica explained before her gaze shifted over to the young Princess, nodding her head for her to speak. 

“Late two nights ago, Isabella escaped the castle dungeon,” Petra proclaimed. 

The team of Spider’s reacted in shock as we all glanced at one another. 

“After our guards found no trace of her in the kingdom, it was said that a magic portal had opened in her cell and she suddenly vanished,” Petra explained. “To the naked eye, that would seem that way, but we know the truth,” 

“So how did she get out?” I asked. 

Miguel pressed a button on his gizmo as Lyla activated a holographic projection, recreating what looked like a dungeon as the lines traced out a cell, with Isabella trapped in her chains. “Finding and capturing Isabella is mission priority number 1. Priority number 2 however. . .”

“Playing back the dimensional recording from Petra’s security feed!” Lyla chirped. 

We watched as a portal opened up, a portal just like the ones we’d use with our gizmos as a man stepped through it, entering Isabella’s cell. He used a device to free her from her shackles and words were exchanged. 

“Perhaps we can help one another?”

“What would you give me if I helped you?” Isabella questioned the man, raising a skeptical brow in his direction as she slowly pulled herself to her feet. 

His lips curled into a dark smile. “The head of Miguel O’Hara, and all of his spider pests. Including your dear Princess,” 

Isabella smiled wickedly at the man, her eyes twinkling as a surge of delightful joy coursed through her. 

“Do we have an alliance?” The man asked her. 

Isabella took his hand, her cold fingers lacing against his warm hand. “Indeed, Lord–?”

“Osborne,” Osborne brought his lips down to her knuckles, kissing her there gently before smiling again. “Harry Osborne,” 

I felt like I was going to be sick. Harry Osborne. Osborne as in the company Osborne? The same company that hired The Chameleon to attack me? To kidnap me and bring me back to their dimension so they could take my powers away?

I felt like I was going to faint. 

“Let’s get started,” Isabella’s fangs poked through her lips as she laughed. 

Harry pulled her through the portal and before the guards could get the cell gate open, the magical portal disappeared.

I wasn’t paying attention to the ending of the recording. My chest rose and fell as I tried to take deep, calming breaths. I felt a gentle tap at my back and glanced over to see Hobie. 

“You alright, Musey?” He asked. 

I’ll never get used to that nickname.

“I– I don’t know,” I spoke honestly. 

He glanced back as Lyla put away the projection. “Let’s hear what the gang has to say. If you need to step out, let me know, aight?”

“Thank you, Hobie,” I managed a kind smile. 

I managed to compose myself enough to not look like a sweating mess as Miguel stepped forward again. “That was Harry Osborne of Earth-1997. Recently we discovered that he hired a villain known as The Chameleon to disguise himself as a Spider and infiltrate the Society to steal our tech and my designs. We do not know their end goal, but as of now, they are using our technology to jump dimensions and cause rifts in the multiverse,” 

“In short, more anomalies are beginning to pop up in places where they very much shouldn’t be,” Jessica pipped in. “At an alarming rate than normal,” 

“As of today, we have isolated them so that they can no longer use any remaining gizmo’s or day passes to jump to this dimension, Lisa’s dimension, and now Petra’s, to avoid the risk of another infiltration,” Miguel explained as he looked out towards the group. “As the situation develops more, more members of the Society will be notified. Until then, I am entrusting this information to you select few. What you saw and heard in here must not leave this room. Am I clear?”

Everyone nodded, speaking their compliance to the order. 

“Good,” Miguel nodded as his hands returned to his hips. “In the meantime, Petra will continue to monitor things from her dimension should Isabella or any other anomalies return. That’s all,”

“You’re dismissed,” Jessica nodded her head. 

Everyone relaxed, some lingering to chat for a bit before slowly piling out of the room. Petra activated a portal and jumped back through to her dimension after exchanging words with Miguel. Jessica walked out with Gwen and the others, leaving Miguel, Hobie, and me the last remaining people in the room. 

“Lisa, you coming?” Hobie asked over his shoulder. 

I looked back towards Miguel, seeing the soft, but awkwardness of his body movements as he casted me a glance, walking over to his computer set up as he brought up some holographic screens. 

“I’ll, uh, be another minute, Hobie,” I answered Spider-Punk as I glanced over at him. 

“Suit yourself,” Hobie shrugged his shoulders and sauntered out of the room. 

It was just the two of us now. 

Silence was quick to fill the room, only the distant piper patter of Miguel’s figures guiding and typing away on the holographic screens provided the only subsistence. Hands behind my back, I took slow and cautious steps towards Miguel. He made no indication that he wanted me to leave, or even really turned to look at me, so I took it as a sign to keep going. 

When I was close enough, I gently cleared my throat, “Hey,” Offering him another small wave. 

Miguel glanced down at me, his eyes softening as his face still tried to put on a strong front. “Hi,” He greeted me softly. 

At that moment I forgot how tall he actually was. He seemed to tower over me, and the platform was still situated on the ground. This was his full height. It made me both nervous and anxious at the same time. 

We both idled in our own positions next to each other, awkwardly trying to predict who would be brave enough to speak first. I oddly felt a little relieved that I didn’t appear to be the only one that was nervous. So I took a deep breath, mustered up as much courage as I could and–!

“How are you–?” Miguel and I both spoke at the exact same time. 

We stopped, eyes widening. 

“I’m sorry–” I immediately apologized.

“Oh, I’m sorry to–” He stepped in as well. 

We both stopped, realizing we had been talking over one another again. I watched as a faint blush formed on his cheeks. I felt mine warm up in return. 

My heart fluttered in my chest when I heard him chuckle quietly under his breath, waving off the interruption. “I’m sorry,”

“No, no, it’s fine,” I gently reassured him. 

We both shared a quiet laugh together before settling, and once a few small moments of silence passed, I felt confident to speak again.

“How are you doing?” I asked him. 

Miguel actually took a moment to process the question in his mind. He sighed softly. “Honestly? Managing, but. . . a little weird,”

“Feeling is mutual it seems,” I sighed in relief as I turned and leaned my waist against the edge of his desk. 

Miguel looked like he was going to say something, but stopped himself, deciding against it. He placed his hands on the desk, leaning against them to support himself. “Feeling weird too?”

I nodded slowly, “Yeah, just trying to figure out where to go from here I guess,” 

He hums at my response, his head turning as if he were deep in thought. “About Osborne, were you alright back there?”

I blinked, my pupils widening. He must have seen how I reacted to hearing and seeing Harry Osborne for the first time. The guy that runs the company that hired someone to abduct me for my spider powers. 

“Now I can put a face to the name at least,” I spoke honestly as my shoulders slouched, hunching over. 

“. . . I swore an oath to Chameleon, passing along a message to Osborne,” Miguel spoke suddenly. He turns over to look at me, standing up straight from the desk as his arms crossed over his broad chest. “I swore that I’d never let him or anyone else lay a hand on you ever again,”

I swore that in that moment I felt like I was going to faint. Just straight up fell from where I stood at his desk. The sweating of my palms intensified.

As if realizing what Miguel had said to me, his gaze drifted to the side, trying to hide the blush that formed on his cheeks as he raised a hand to cover his mouth. Just like he did when I first told him about my powers. 

It was still very adorable. 

After composing himself, the blush was gone as Miguel turned back to face me completely. “Maybe, if you want–” he stops himself, as if second guessing himself. 

“If we want?” I raised a brow, gently encouraging him to continue with hopeful eyes. 

My reaction seemed to ease him slightly as he shook his head, shaking off the nerves before speaking again. “Do you want to talk more about this? About us? After the mission?”

After the mission, right. 

Personal feelings aside for now. My friends needed help. 

I smiled at Miguel, nodding my head. “I’d like that,” 

Miguel’s face seemed to brighten at my response, as he let out a deep sigh of relief. I tried not to stare as his muscles relaxed along his chest and arms as he lowered the limbs to his side. “Me too, Lisa,”

“Do you need help monitoring anything here?” I offered politely. 

He shook his head, “I appreciate it, but I can handle things here on my own with Lyla,”

“No problem,” I responded as I pulled myself off from his desk, waving at him. “I’ll leave you to it then,” 

I could feel his stare on my back as I began to walk away. Once I was off the platform and far enough from its range, Miguel activated a lever and the platform began its slow ascension from the floor. 

“All active patrol teams. Keep an eye out for a female bat demon villain with a DNA signature from Earth-423,” Miguel commanded through an open communication channel.

As I walked away, an idea came to mind as I turned on my heels, looking up towards the platform.

“Miguel!” I called out.

I could see him walk over to the edge, looking out at me. “Yes?”

“Do you want me to bring you anything from the cafeteria?” I offered. 

I could see the gears in his head turning as he contemplated my offer. A small grin spread on his lips as he cupped a hand around his mouth. “Save me some empanadas?”

I offered him a thumbs up. “You got it!” 

I waved at him before turning around and exiting the lab. My palms weren’t as sweaty as my heart beat steadied after beating a little faster than normal. A smile formed on my face as I launched a web sling and launched myself in the direction of the cafeteria. 

Progress had been made. 

////////

Miguel’s P.O.V. 

As soon as Lisa turned to leave the lab, Miguel leaned forward against the desk, palms flat against the surface. He just stood there, breathing in and out, sweat dripping from his forehead. Throughout that entire conversation, his heart wouldn’t stop beating so shocking fast. He thought he was going to pass out. 

Lyla fizzled in front of him, a cheeky grin on her face. “Breathe, Miguel, breathe,” she gently coached him through the exercise, “She’s gone now, you big softy,”

Miguel took another deep breath before laughing quietly, his fingers curling. “I actually did it,”

“Yes, you talked to her!” Lyla cheered. “You offered the topic of conversation and she accepted! Now all that’s left to do is to prepare for the actual conversation,”

“You’re right, Lyla,” Miguel gently nodded his head as he looked up at her. “You’re right,”

Miguel stood up straight, relaxing his muscles as he rolled his shoulders to loosen his nerves. 

“I can do this,”

“Um. . . boss?” A new voice perked up.

Miguel froze as his eyes darted towards a holographic screen. Spider-Woman Canada was on screen, hockey stick in hand as the eyelets of her mask displayed an awkward yet concerning look on her face. 

“Team 6 is still on the call. . .” She spoke. 

Oh for shock’s sake! 

Miguel face palmed as his hand rubbed down his face in both agony and utter embarrassment. He pointed a finger at the screen. “Not a word to anyone,”

“My lips are sealed, boss!” She saluted before ending the call. 

Spider-Man 2099 sighed deeply as he pinched the bridge of his nose, slowly pacing in a small circle. “It’s going to be a long day. . .”

////////

Leave a like or comment if you want to be added to the tag list!

Tagged:   @0eye0​​​, @sadgurlstar , @uhnanix​​​ , @r1dd1kulus​​​, @the-lululemon​​​,    @kirablommuwu​​​ @kenacole​​​ @kuinnoa​​​,   @devotedlyatomicdeer​​​  @hltendo , @r0sib3lleeditx​​​​ @noahspector​​​​    @senicrile