#ulsicsor

[webbfluid]

@ulsicsor​ |  starter call

            “Becoming a hard guy to get any time with these days, Harry, you really ought to schedule more time for normal human interaction.”

#ulsicsor #002 ⠀ . ⠀ ⠀ interaction ⠀ ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ⠀ ❪ ⠀ closed starter ⠀ ❫ #let me know if you'd like something else

[mystere-a]

❛ who’s going to stop us, huh? ❜     ||     @ulsicsor​

that’s the confidence he likes, the kind only harry can bring to these operations.   he’s the one who helps beck feel invincible.   untouchable.   mysterio and the goblin—  THE MAGICIAN AND THE MONSTER.   what an odd pair they make, yet what they accomplish together seems no short of wonders.

horrific wonders, of course.

❝ as long as we stick to the plan... absolutely NO ONE. ❞

#ulsicsor #┊⌓┊ VERSE ┊ MAIN. ❜ › #┊⌓┊ queue. ❜ ›

[sciencebuff]

Peter  is  spread  out  on  the  couch,  a  chemistry  book  open  on  his  chest  and  dark  shadows  hanging  under  his  eyes.  When  the  door  opens,  he  stretches  slightly,  head  rolling  off  to  the  side,  lips  quirking  up  in  a  smile  when  he  catches  sight  of  Harry.      ❝  Hey,  if  I  fake  being  sick  to  get  outta  this  test,  you  can  cover  for  me,  yeah?    ❞

starter call • @ulsicsor​​

#ulsicsor #⟨ interactions. _________ ⋆˚ i might as well furnish some entertainment. #⟨ the amazing spider-man. _________ ⋆˚ main verse. #hey hope this works for you! holler if not!

[osgoblins-a]

❛ the parts of myself that i’ve hated … i can’t tell which ones are mine and which you created. ❜

                          how many times had he echoed those thoughts at his own father ?    no, norman is not like his father he counters, denies correlation before thought can fester and spread within.    ( LIKE FATHER LIKE SON. )      goblin’s tone mocks somewhere in the back of his mind, echoing son’s words in a taunt. fingers twitch, thumb rubs against the fabric of his sleeve represses counterpart carefully. keeps it barred in his mind.

                           “ you don’t mean that. ”     gaze flickers over harry, features hold stern expression, whatever hurt might be placed there is neatly tucked away. norman decides to act as if this is teenage rebellion.     deny deny deny. 

⟢  @ulsicsor​︱ prompted ! 

#⟢ ◞ 00 . 𝚠𝚎'𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 ﹕ ❪ ic ❫ #ulsicsor

[mystere-a]

❝ Nice entrance. That was a solid 8 out of 10. ❞     ||     @ulsicsor​

​❝ yeah? ❞   the smile on his face carries into his voice.   he can’t help but sound pleased.   harry is a hard man to impress, after all.   granted, a 10 out of 10 would be nicer to hear, but he’ll just go ahead and give himself that rating —   it was an excellent entrance, after all.   bright, flashy, loud...   ❝ took me two weeks to render that one. might’ve taken me longer if i weren’t so eager to try it out. ❞

#maybe he is cute sometimes... #┊⌓┊ VERSE ┊ MAIN. ❜ › #ulsicsor #┊⌓┊ queue. ❜ ›

[mystere-a]

@ulsicsor​   |   continued from x

"quentin beck" was the most obnoxious man harry ever had the displeasure of dealing with. he was as brazen as any self-assured "a-type" with an ego the size of planet earth who always felt like his opinions demanded to be known as life-changing articles of declaration in which his "ingenious" schemes were the deciding factor of any long-standing war. however, it should be stressed that such kind of blatant disregard for anything else is what made him dangerous, and he needed dangerous, needed it like blood on his teeth.

that didn't mean he was going to let beck get away with everything, though. now and again, a sharp jab in the gut of his stupid conceit usually did the trick in snapping him out of whatever boldness he was displaying in the moment. increasingly, he had this ... habit(?) of pushing boundaries, trying to lure out different reactions from the younger. a daring game, frankly, for harry was anything but predictable these days, where his rage was as sudden as a whip. so when beck leans over the pristine desk — all smug — it begs the question as to whether beck was purposefully taunting fate, or proving a point that the green goblin wouldn't so easily get rid of his star player. that's the thing, though. it's not about getting rid of anything.

it's right then he grabs the elder's face, fingers pressing — yet not digging — into bearded cheeks and pulling inward to meet halfway, but only just half way, the kind that left about less than a percent of space between them to skirt the line of "exactly" half. the kind of half that agonizes. the hold becomes incredibly firm, hand a vice-grip and elbow locked, preventing beck from forwards or backwards — trapped where harry wants him to be.

" you think it's that easy, huh? that you can just take what you want? don't get caught up in your own illusions ... —" and in his most private cadence, between the sliver of space between, beck's true name slides out as a hidden dagger.

after forcing it to hang there for a brief moment, he lets go, and falls back into his seat.

when beck’s face is suddenly clutched between hands capable of snapping his neck with the slightest of force  —  a fact he’s all too aware of . . .    there’s a fleeting, frightening moment in which beck feels the closest to death he has in a while.   he’s pulled forward against his will, his own hands finding purchase atop the desk to keep himself steady on the tips of his fingers.   it’s scarce he finds himself at someone else’s mercy, yet here he is.   eyes of the green goblin boring into his own.   metaphorically blood-stained hands trapping him in a vice.   his real name is breathed into the air by the other like a reminder of how short this leash could be.

beck is certain harry could see the flash of fear in his eyes.

and it’s the realization that harry might be aware of this effect he has on beck that solidifies the elder’s resolve to RETALIATE.   long ago he promised himself he would never feel humiliated by another again.   and fear is humiliating.   there’s no denying how intimidating harry osborn can be, how powerful, how deadly.   but beck wants to be the same.   he wants others at his mercy, not the other way around.   there’s leverage at his disposal, too.   there’s a reason harry has only barked, never bitten.

when harry falls back into his seat, beck remains where he is, still leaning a good ways across the desk.   he doesn’t give harry long to breathe.   his own hand reaches out, quick as a viper strike, snatching harry’s tie just below the expertly tied knot, and he tugs once, aiming to yank harry a few inches back his way.

❝ get caught up in my own illusions?  that’s funny, coming from you. ❞   his own voice is laced with venom now.   play time is out the window.    ❝ you’ve been fooling yourself for a long time. ❞

#ok so they're either going to make out or literally kill each other #can't wait 2 see which #ulsicsor #┊⌓┊ VERSE ┊ MAIN. ❜ ›

[mystere-a]

"favorite twink" YOU KNOW OTHER TWINKS??????

“ you are on a LONG LIST of twinks i know, harry —- just be glad you’re the preferred one. ”

#this looks like SHIT bc i’m on mobile but LOLLLLL #ulsicsor #┊⌓┊ answered. ❜ ›

[mystere-a]

‘seems like a real banquet of horrors here, huh?’  ———  ( @ulsicsor​ )

BECK CAN’T HELP BUT GRIN  at harry’s comment, for that’s exactly the description he was aiming for when creating the fright night illusions that, in a sense, “guard” his shabby little theatre.   the projection light within the drone at beck’s side gently flickers off, ending the demonstration he’d just given of his  ( self-proclaimed remarkable )  talents.

normally beck doesn’t allow anyone to enter here, let alone see his carefully guarded work, but an encrypted message from an unknown sender he’d received earlier that week had piqued his interest greatly.   somehow, this person had not only discovered who the man behind mysterio was, but also WHERE he was, and on top of that, had contacted him with the potential for an offer.

imagine beck’s surprise when an osborn walked through his doors.   though he’s not deeply invested in the field of biological science, anyone with even a passing interest in revolutionary research knows the work of norman osborn.   and here is his son, just as prestigious, but seemingly with his own agenda.

❝  it may not seem like much,  ❞   beck explains, the fingers of one hand absently stroking his own bearded cheek,   ❝  but once you understand how someone’s MIND works, you can use this sort of thing against them in the most marvelous ways.  ❞

#LET'S GOOOOOOOOOO #ulsicsor #┊⌓┊ VERSE ┊ MAIN. ❜ ›

[mystere-a]

❛  what  have  you  done  that’s  generous ?  ❜  —  @ulsicsor​

❝ uh  —  i was  BORN?   you’re  welcome. ❞

#beck: i am my own greatest gift to the world #ulsicsor #┊⌓┊ answered. ❜ ›

[mystere-a]

@ulsicsor​

❝ i am working, harry, i’m working SO HARD to get you out of the closet — ❞

#HGDHGLHDSLKGH #KILL HIM #ulsicsor

[mystere-a]

#nobody ASKED YOU harry !!!!!!!!!!!!! #ulsicsor #┊⌓┊ fun. ❜ ›

[mystere-a]

@ulsicsor​  |  continued from  x

under usual circumstances, the presence was accepted. typing away at his keyboard he doesn't pay mind to the lousy way beck enters his office as if he owned the place, catching the drink with a silent nod of acknowledgement, though it does cross him that maybe in permitting all this, the elder had become too comfortable.

and so it did, because his feet kicked up on his (father's) desk had fingers halting midway as eyes stared at disrespectful shoes with prejudice.

" the 'tea' will be you being launched out of the room if you don't get your feet off. " he then gestures at the sofa at the corner of the room. " if you wanna kick back, there's that, y'know. "

an overly dramatic, loud sigh escapes beck as he hoists his feet from the desk, and with equally dramatic flair, he sweeps the surface of the corner with a hand to remove any dirt left behind.   ❝ happy? ❞   sipping once more on his drink, he migrates over to the sofa harry indicated, where he stretches out as much as he can without getting his shoes on the fabric.

❝ okay  —  NOW will you tell me what’s up?   i saw somethin’ in the news about doc ock almost getting caught by our ‘friend’.   how’s that going? ❞

#i just rly wanted to add to this ok bye #ulsicsor #┊⌓┊ VERSE ┊ MAIN. ❜ ›

[mystere-a]

smash his fishbowl head 😔

❝  ... all i heard was  ‘smash’.  ❞

#and then he RUNS AWAY #ulsicsor #┊⌓┊ answered. ❜ ›

[mystere-a]

*beats you up*  ——  ( @ulsicsor​ )

❝  GOD, STOP — THIS ISN’T REAL ARMOR — !!  ❞

#harry please he's just a helpless loser #but also keep going #┊⌓┊ asks. ❜ › #ulsicsor

[mystere-a]

letting y’all know that beck gets his ass kicked by harry  ( @ulsicsor​ )  at LEAST once a day, it’s practically ritualistic at this point

#why? because beck runs his mouth constantly #and harry decks him for it #idk how they manage to coexist in the same room #┊⌓┊ fun. ❜ › #ulsicsor

[mystere-a]

the plan had gone catastrophically wrong in almost every way.

and with as much as beck prides himself on taking every single precaution and preparing himself for every possibility  ( a man of endless contingencies through and through ) ,  this was beyond unacceptable.   the operation had been a solo endeavor  —  mysterio took on the web-slinging city savior on his own once again.   and it had ended with much of beck’s newly developed technology left in shambles, easily overcome by the spider, and beck himself had only barely escaped with humiliating insults still ringing in his ears.

after disposing of everything beyond salvage and dressing himself back in civvies, a rage that made him tremble and an embarrassment that left him hot beneath the collar brought him to a manhattan dive bar that evening, where he drank himself into a stupor.   a reckless decision he normally wouldn’t partake in but sounded like a pretty damn good option after what he’d just been through mere hours ago.   he downed glass after glass, until a text from harry prompted him for an update on how the battle had gone.   the sinister six leader liked to keep tabs on what his members were up to.   rather than text back or even ring him, beck decided to drop in on harry in person.

cue beck very angrily and very drunkenly ranting at harry in the middle of his oscorp office about just how wrong everything had gone for him.   not the smartest thing he’s ever done, and surely he’ll regret it later... in fact, he’s beginning to regret it NOW, and beck finds himself heading unsteadily back out into the hall, where he’s trying to remember exactly which way the elevator is in this damn place.

[  ❝  come  back ,  beck,  you  little  ass !  ❞  ———  @ulsicsor​  ]

his jaw strains painfully with how tightly his teeth are grit, and his vision swims.

      ❝ don’t fucking follow me, osborn, i’ve already TOLD you everything you need to hear, ❞   beck calls back at him without turning.   he’s got one hand against the wall to brace himself as all the alcohol of the night finally catches up to him, and everything tilts in a way seemingly designed just to piss him off.   where’s that goddamn elevator?

#lmaoooo here have this #ulsicsor #i need to make a verse specifically for them honestly #alcohol cw