#caught in arachne’s web

[petertingle-yipyip]

Question…? - Miguel O’hara

//the miguel brainrot brought this piece to life tbr. it’s kinda just for shits and giggles but there might be more. depends on how this one does//

Pairing: Miguel O’hara x Reader

Word Count: 3,868

Summary: The latest recruit to the Spider Society hits a bit too close to home for its head honcho. But with great power comes great persistence to get answers.

You landed on the roof of your building and pulled your mask up, wiping a hand down your slightly sweaty face. You looked at the bright display of the neon billboard across the alley and saw the breaking news story of your latest bust of the local Midnight Sons crime syndicate. You smirked slightly as you watched the reporter talk to the police who had to reluctantly admit that you, Arachne, had caught them. He tried to dance around it but the fact that your webs were covering the background made it obvious.

Just as you were about to head inside, you felt a tingle shoot down your spine. An unfamiliar yet not unwelcome sensation crawled across your skin so you quickly replaced your mask and spun around, web shooters ready. Instead of being greeted by a foe, you were greeted with a large and seemingly unstable orange circle that vaguely resembled a doorway.

Before you could say anything, you had to drop to your stomach as a motorbike came barreling through. You rolled to your back and flicked a quick burst from either wrist to latch a web to both tires. You kicked yourself back and pulled the bike with you, forcing its rider to disengage and land on the opposite side of the roof.

“Not bad.” She said, though her back was still to you as you stood slowly. “I knew you were quick, but I didn’t think you’d be that quick.”

“Right… And you are?” You asked carefully. You didn’t feel she was a threat, but something about the way she triggered that sixth sense made you tense. “I mean, you came at me full speed on a motorcycle so you owe me that.”

“Jessica Drew.” She turned to face you and the first thing you noticed was her belly. “And I’m just like you.”

“I’m not pregnant!” You decided quickly, a hand covering your stomach.

She laughed and shook her head. After a second, you hesitantly laughed with her. “I meant the Spider Woman thing.”

“Ah…” You nodded before slowly lifting your mask again. “That’s what I felt?”

“Mhmm..”

“I thought I was the only one.”

“Yes and no.” She moved towards her bike, which you hurried over to beside her. “If you’re interested, there’s someone I think you should meet.”

You followed her through the orange and ended up in a massive complex. There were dozens upon dozens of variations of… you.

A cat version. A monkey version. A dinosaur. A plushie. A cyborg. An avatar. A video game. Other girls, other guys. Any type of Spider variation you could imagine, it was there.

As you were taking it all in, you were hit with the sharpest pain you’d ever had in your life. It took over your entire body, felt as if you were being yanked apart and haphazardly put back together. Your insides felt rearranged and your head spun violently while everything seemed to be ignited. But the pain only lasted for a second.

Jessica told you it was your body glitching from being outside your own universe, which she also explained was granted the official title of Earth-3505. She slipped a blue band around your wrist and you felt every ounce of tension in your body disappear. She explained the device on her wrist, how it kept her from glitching while allowing for travel to any dimension.

You had to admit. All the tech and different universes blew every single theory and experiment you had ever known out of the water.

You were talking with Jessica through the long walk down a rather dark and drafty hall that led to a wide open work area. She called to the man on the platform, which began to lower at an agonizingly slow pace. Awkwardly, you rocked on your heels and fiddled with your web shooters, checking the cartridges and scratching away the dried remnants from your earlier endeavors. You tugged the neck of your suit and dusted imaginary dirt off before running fingers through your hair and giving it a small shake in an effort to look a bit more presentable.

When you heard the gears click into place you looked back and found yourself in utter shock, despite him not even facing you yet.

And as someone who would fight the Bloodstones, a werewolf, and the literal avatar of a god of the moon, it took a lot to render you speechless.

The man on the platform was massive. The width of his chest and shoulders alone was at least the size of a twin mattress. His height towered over yours and you could tell even from the distance he was at. His upper body narrowed ridiculously into his waist, though his legs were proportionately built as well. And covering that Hercules-esque physique was a fitted red and blue suit, just like everyone else you had seen in that building.

So why hadn’t he given you the same tingle Jessica did?

You were snapped out of your thoughts when an elbow came roughly into your ribs.

“What?” You asked quickly, an innocent obliviousness in your voice.

“Introduce yourself.” Jessica hissed.

“Right.” You nodded and took a hesitant step forward. “I’m Y/N, from Earth 35-something.”

“3505.” She whispered.

“Yeah, sorry. Anyways, I’m like you and her and everyone else here… Back home I’m called Arachne, like the.. The myth. I’m sorry, are you not gonna face me?”

“¿Mande?” He said sharply and the sound of his voice drove your pulse to jump.

“If you’re gonna have your back to me the whole time, why am I even here?” You pushed, though your resolve was slowly shattering as you watched him turn around.

The room may have been dimly lit but you could see what looked like a red tint to his eyes.

“Why are you here?” He asked tightly as he hopped off the platform and stalked closer to you. You swallowed hard and flattened your two middle fingers against your palm to feel the trigger for your webs. “Why are-“

His sentence cut off abruptly when he got a few feet away from you.

“Miguel?” Jessica asked from beside you. You had forgotten she was there but you felt a bit more relaxed to know you weren’t alone in that room. “What is it?”

“What did you say your name was?” He asked. His words were intended to be more gentle, more intimate maybe, but they still had enough of an edge to keep your fingers where they were.

“Y/N… And you’re..?”

His face fell at your uncertainty, though you doubted Jessica noticed. He recovered rather quickly, as if your words reminded him of something painful. Something he already knew.

“Miguel O’hara.” He stood a bit taller, if that was even possible.

“It’s nice to meet you… You built all of this?” You asked lamely in hopes to fill the silence that you felt would suffocate you if you ignored.

“Yeah.. It’s a way to preserve the multiverse. Everyone here was hand picked to serve a bigger cause, to protect each other’s universe and canons.”

“I assume that’ll get explained if I get in?” You turned to Jessica who nodded with a small, amused smile.

“¿Perdóname, si entras?” His head cocked as the corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk that you felt was sarcastic. “No.”

“What?” You and Jessica asked at the same time.

“No.” He enunciated, hands at his waist and leaning forward.

“Why not?” You asked angrily, stepping forward with no regard to the size difference. “I can take anyone here!”

“Miguel, she’s really good.” Jessica tried earnestly. “I think you should give her a shot.”

“No.”

“C’mon.” She pressed.

“No.”

“What are you afraid of?” You challenged suddenly and the glare he shot your way made you hesitate.

“Afraid?” He laughed. “Afraid.. I’m not afraid.”

“Then what?”

“She looks just like her.” Miguel said, more to Jessica than you.

“Who?” She asked softly.

Miguel shot her a different look than the one he gave you. This one has more longing, more pain. You looked like someone he used to know. Likely someone he lost.

“Lyla.” Jessica said softly, waiting a moment for a hologram woman in a fur coat to appear at her shoulder. “Show Y/N around a little more, please.”

“Who- Oh.” The hologram spoke before disappearing and reappearing in front of you. She leaned in and lifted her heart shaped glasses before blinking away and reappearing up at Miguel’s side. A quick back and forth of hushed comments brought her back to you as she ushered you out of the room.

Lyla spoke quickly to you, bouncing around within your field of vision. She pointed out different Spider People, different villains. She showed you the machine that sent people home and the training center. While you were wandering the vast exercise area, you met two boys playfully roughhousing who seemed to create the golden retriever with black cat meets boys will be boys dynamic.

“Ooh! Who’s the new girl?” One of them ran up to you with a palpable excitement.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You smiled and the other one leaned in close.

“Look at that.” He said with a small smirk, seemingly changing color with each sentence. “Got little fangs and all. That’s mad.”

“Whaaaat? Let me see!” The first one pushed the taller one aside and replaced him, though he leaned in significantly closer.

“I’m guessing these aren’t normal for Spiderman.” You laughed and gently pushed him back. “What’re your names?”

“Hobie, Hobie Brown.” He offered you a short salute.

“Pavitr Prabhakar.” He gave an extravagant bow. “How long have you been a spider person?”

You blew out a sigh and tried to calculate the numbers. “A few years? It happened my senior year of high school, and then the two years there... And then.. All I know is its been a while. You guys?”

“Couple months.” Pavitr answered with a small hop. “It’s been so easy.”

“Three years.” Hobie answered simply. “And yeah, it’s not bad. Your universe a mess, then?”

“I think mine is a weird one based on what you guys have said.” You answered awkwardly. “Werewolves, swamp things, Egyptian gods, monster hunters.”

“Sounds like a fantasy book.” Hobie scoffed.

“That’s the Midnight Sons for you.” You shrugged. “There’s normal stuff too, like other vigilantes. Daredevil and Black Cat and the Widow.”

“Were they bitten by a spider too?” Pavitr added with wide eyes.

“Who, Widow? Not that I know of.”

“How’d you get the little-“ Hobie made a vague fang gesture. “You a vampire, too?”

“Well, no.” You rubbed a hand over your mouth, suddenly embarrassed of your teeth.

“You’ve got everything else. Figured you had the little blood suckers and allat.”

“There’s rumors of one guy but I haven’t met him.. Actually, the spider that bit me was a mix between the same thing that created my world’s Goblin and just the radioactive spider. It was supposed to be able to cure something but…” You shrugged.

“Do they do anything?” Pavitr asked, still looking at your mouth intently. He slowly reached a finger forward so you leaned away and gently pushed his hand to the side.

“Uh..” Your brows furrowed. “Idunno.” You mumbled as you shrugged.

“You’ve never tried to bite anyone?” He laughed and Hobie facepalmed gently. “I totally would’ve.”

“I’ll try it when I get home.” You laughed slightly. You glanced around and noticed the AI woman - Lyla - was nowhere to be seen. “Can I ask you guys something?”

“Go for it.” Hobie nodded and Pavitr’s head bounced up and down like a bobble head.

“The little AI, Lyla… Does she see everything?” You asked quietly.

“You trynna do somtin’ you shouldn’t, aye?” Hobie quirked a brow.

“I wanna try to talk to Miguel but I get the feeling that she’ll keep me away.”

“Why?” Pavitr whispered loudly,

“Cause he sent me away, said I looked too much like someone.”

“Oy, Pav.” Hobie nudged the smaller boy before leaning down and plotting quietly. They went back and forth for a few moments before looking back at you. “Make it quick, yeah?”

“I owe you.” You grinned.

Pavitr and Hobie shared a small fist bump before Pavitr reached his fist towards you. You chuckled slightly and returned the gesture before the two ran off. It was only a few moments before sprinklers went off in the room. Lyla popped in and out of view, speaking rapidly and tapping small screens in front of her. She appeared in front of you, disheveled glasses and jacket hanging from her shoulders.

“Do. Not. Move.” She said firmly and you held hands up in surrender. She pointed two fingers at her eyes before pointing to you, gesturing up and down your body before disappearing again.

You leaned around slightly to ensure her digital frame was nowhere to be seen before you booked it out of the room. Your wet feet slipped on the sleek tiles so you opted to swing across the complex and back to Miguel’s workspace.

You wiped a damp hand across your face as you entered the hall again before you pulled yourself to the ceiling and crawled down the long corridor. Jessica left in a huff, muttering that he was unreasonable and that she wasn’t done. You watched her freeze and turn around, squinting her eyes in suspicion. You stayed still above her in hopes that she wouldn’t find you but with the water subtly dripping from your suit and hair, you thought you were caught. With a small smirk, she turned back and left.

You blew out a small sigh and continued down your path until you reentered Miguel’s wide open room. His back was towards the entrance as he vigorously typed and swiped various projections away. He was muttering to himself, broken Spanglish as he worked in that increasingly frazzled state. His head cocked over his shoulder as you clung to the space above the door.

“¿Qué estás haciendo?” He asked tightly, unable to face you fully. “And why are you wet?”

“I just…” You spoke, realizing you had no idea how to start. “May like some explanations.”

“I don’t have to explain anything to you.” He spoke simply, clearly trying to shut down the conversation.

“Okay, but… What if I just ask some general questions that have simple answers? Is that okay? I mean, can I ask you a question? Well a couple, but you know what I mean.”

“Can you please stop, just for a second?“ He sighed and pressed his palms against the table. You pursed your lips slightly and drummed your fingers against the wall while you waited for him to say something. “You don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, do you?”

“I don’t usually have to beg like this.” You confessed. You shifted your feet and leaned your shoulders against the wall behind you, allowing your hands to aim webs at the edge of his platform. You pulled yourself over and stood in front of him. “Miguel, please…”

“Ay, dios mío. You sound just like her, too.” He spoke to himself, though the desperation in his voice was hard to miss.

“Listen, if you don’t want me here because whoever I remind you of, that’s not good enough of a reason.” You insisted. Your words finally got him to turn and face you, which really drove home just how big he was. You gave a nervous chuckle and crossed your arms in an attempt of defiance. “I can prove myself against anyone here. I know I can do this!”

“It’s not about whether you’re-“ He began before he leaned down closer. You pulled back and teetered the edge of the platform. “What was that?”

“You got a little close.” You defended with a shrug.

“Not that, cariño.” He shook his head. “Open your mouth.”

“Okay!” You said loudly, trying to push him by his chest. “That’s not how you- Ugh! Whatthehellare-“

Your words became an incomprehensible jumble of syllables when his hand came to your face, fingers pressing gently on your cheeks to keep your lips apart. His pointer finger was free to manipulate your upper lip, exposing one side of your mouth. With a satisfied smirk, he let you go.

“Thought so..” He offered a lazy smirk. “Lemme see your hands.”

“Is this like.. part of the initiation process or something?” You tried to joke as you held up one hand. He took it by your wrist and gave your palm a gentle prod, just missing the trigger for your web shooter. “What are you looking for?”

“You always talk this much?” He mumbled with a small eye roll as he let go of your hand.

“It’s just a question.” You muttered and poured slightly.

He sat back on the edge of a table behind him, allowing for a more even eye line. But even at the new lowered height, he was definitely taller than you.

“How can anyone focus around you?” He said with a shake of his head.

“I can put the mask on, if it helps.” You offered awkwardly, reaching for the side pouch you usually tucked it away in.

Miguel looked back at you and laughed. A seemingly genuine sound that, up until that moment, you weren’t entirely sure was possible.

You took the opportunity to move away from the edge of the platform and stand more in front of him. Your hands rested lazily behind you and you simply looked at him for a minute.

The obvious physical stature was still as intimidating as ever but there was something in his expression. Something haunted, something guilty. However, when his eyes met yours, there was a softness there. A certain longing.

How does anyone focus around you? You thought as you took in his features for a little longer.

“You always stare like that when you’re not talking?” His brows raised with a slight smile as his arms crossed over his chest.

“Not usually.” You answered with a shrug of one shoulder in an attempt to ignore the blush creeping across your cheeks. “I take it you didn’t find what you were looking for with my hand, but you didn’t send me away again so maybe that was a good thing… Maybe I can…”

“Go ahead and ask your questions.” He nodded, adding a tired sigh at the end as if to say he was giving in. You thought he was curious as to what you wanted to know.

“What’s the big deal about my teeth?”

“Your teeth..” He chuckled slightly. “Most of the spiders around here don’t have fangs, cariño.”

“Right but why do you care?”

“Cause I have them too.”

“What do yours do?”

“Paralysis. Yours?”

“Dunno.” You confessed. “I’ve never bit anyone. Can I see?”

“No.”

“C’mon!”

“No.”

“Fine.”

You flicked a web at his chest and yanked him to lean forward, earning a small Spanish exclamation from him. You kept hold of the web with one hand and put the other on his shoulder as you leaned in slightly. His eyes darted between yours in slight shock before he broke into a small smile, enough for you to see a moderately more pronounced version of the same teeth in your mouth.

“Woah.” You said quietly as your eyes drifted to where your webs met his suit. “Wait..”

“What is it?” He asked lowly and the tone sent a shiver down your spine.

“Your suit. It’s all tech?”

“Mhmm.”

“That’s so cool.” You breathed with a smile, which faded as you squinted and noticed a falter in the colors. “It’s like a projection, which means if I…” You gave another slight tug on your web and watched the distortion of the colors where your palm was pressed against him. You laughed slightly before looking back at Miguel.

The web suddenly snapped and you stumbled backwards. You looked down and saw the excess still wrapped around your wrist. The tensile strength was much stronger than that so it shouldn’t have betrayed you so suddenly. It had never failed before. Turning your head back to Miguel, you saw the projections from the pads of his fingers.

“You were looking for claws?” Your brows raised as your head jerked towards his hand. “You could’ve asked.”

He simply shrugged.

“Let me ask you something…” He said calmly as he leaned back to his originally sitting position. “Why do you wanna be here so bad?”

“Good girl.” You gestured to yourself. “Sad boy.” You gestured to him and he shook his head with a scoff. You offered a small smile before wandering in a small circle, your back now to Miguel. “We all have this one thing going on.. And it’s always one thing after another, situations and circumstances and miscommunications. Losing people and losing fights, it’s all part of the job but… Honestly, I don’t know why. Maybe I just like the idea of not being alone, of not being the only one.”

You turned back to face him and saw he hadn’t looked away.

“It’d be nice to not be the only one with fangs, either.” You smiled, flashing your pointed teeth.

“You never told me why you’re wet.” He commented after a brief moment of silence.

“Oh.” You laughed nervously. “Funny story.”

You heard the muttered complaints come down the hall at the same time the tingle of another spider person hit your skin. Your eyes went wide when Lyla popped up in front of you, glaring at you with tightly crossed arms. You offered an innocent smile with hands up in surrender.

“Y/N!” Pavitr yelled with a wide grin as he entered the room, Hobie sulking behind him. The boy turned and began patting his friend’s shoulder excitedly. “It worked!”

“What worked?” Miguel turned to you.

“Those two-“ Lyla said angrily as she appeared in front of Miguel and pointed at the two spidermen. “-set of a fire alarm in the training center.”

“And that was your idea?” He looked to you again.

“Nah, mate.” Hobie answered casually. “Was all me.”

“You?” He shouted and then wiped a hand down his face. “I don’t- I can’t deal with you right now. Both of you, go help mop up and dry the training center. Just- Get out of my sight.”

Hobie offered you a salute before sauntering out, Pavitr quick on his heels. You smiled to yourself before you hopped off the platform, shooting a quick web to help control your descent.

“Where are you going?” Miguel called after you, causing your stride to pause. You spun to face him with a playful smile.

“To help clean up.. They did it so I could talk to you, after all.” You shrugged.

“Come back here when you’re done.” He tossed a device your way, the same device the other spiders had around their wrists.

“Gonna miss me already?” You teased as you fit it to your wrist, replacing the temporary band you were given.

“Always, cariño.”

You realized you hadn’t found out anything in regards to who you looked like from Miguel’s past, but with the confirmation that you’d come back, you figured you’d find out in time.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #spiderman fanfic #spiderman 2099 #2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 fic #across the spiderverse #smatsv #across the spiderverse fic #spiderverse fic #spiderverse x reader

[summonademon]

my lukercy shipper heart: there needs to be more fics where luke comes back during Heroes of Olympus. I mean the doors of death are open. Luke stick having to babysitter this group. All while having feelings for Percy. What if instead of Annabeth, Luke ends up in Tartarus with Percy.

Oooh everything you said is so compelling!

I love love love the idea of Luke coming back during HoO, you have no idea.

Especially considering:

Myth-canon Hermes has complete access to the Underworld

Hazel is proof that Hades/Pluto can and will turn a blind eye to resurrections under certain circumstances

Luke was a tragic "evil" character, similar to Midas and Medea, so it maybe Gaea wouldn't interfere with his resurrection, yk, just to mess with the characters

Hermes canonically has a shrine in Tartarus!

Some more headcanons:

Reformed!Luke meets Disillusioned!Percy

The Romans and Lost Trio have no idea who this Luke guy is, so they are actually nice and welcoming to him

Nico never actually met Luke pre-Kronos, so he's blindsided by Percy simping for a guy.

Octavian does the bear ritual on Luke and declares he can't officially join the legion...so Luke just hangs around Percy, like his personal assistant.

Luke heroically saves Annabeth from Arachne's web, but then he gets caught in it. Everyone (even Luke) expects Percy to let go, but instead they fall into Tartarus together.

Also Luke recovers those winged shoes while they're in Tartarus lmao

And the Calypso curse scene with Luke is gonna be so brutal, my poor heart (edit: as in the scene where Annabeth and Percy get separated in Tartarus)

Thank you for coming to my TED talk

#lukercy #lukercy au #percy jackson #headcanons

[creepedverse]

How to Get Away with Murder

Tw: death, blood description

How cruel the Fates are with the way they spin their webs like spiders, trapping humanity in their glorious tapestries of red strings. They put even Arachne to shame with how masterful they are at weaving the lives of humans. Becoming a killer was not a goal Dia had planned at all. It was sprung onto her in a twist of red string.

‘There was so much blood, I couldn’t, I didn’t know how much he’d bleed. I was just trying to defend myself, how could I have known he’d die! It’s not my fault!’ These were the sorts of thoughts that ran through Dia’s mind as her hands trembled, holding her knife tightly to not lose it, or leave it as further evidence of her crime. This particular area of Detroit was known for its high crime rate, blinking green lights didn’t deter the criminals in the area. And the many cameras in the area were smashed or removed by the area's criminals. And poor Dia got caught like a fly in the city’s web.

Taking a breath Dia makes sure she doesn’t close the knife as that will get blood stuck in the small cracks that can’t be cleaned. Taking off her jacket that caught most of the blood spray. The woman tries to wipe as much of the blood on her hands and face onto said jacket, and curls the bloodied parts of the jacket around the knife to keep the outside looking as clean as possible. Leaving the body there Dia gets to her car with no trouble and once home she bleaches all of her clothes overnight in her bathtub. Watching all those true crime shows really pays off especially when you know that the police wouldn’t care as much about the run of the mill criminals death.

The next day Dia makes a bonfire with the clothes she was wearing and cleans the knife of any trace. It would be more suspicious if she moved right away so for now she’ll continue with her studies and once the semester is up she’ll move.

#creepedverse #crv #CRV Dia #crv Dia origins #cc dia art

[vodika-vibes]

Arachne baby girl 😭

Arachne is baby girl. Dogma loves her so much, and so does Tup. And, really, the entirety of the 501st.

It's been roughly three weeks since the events that led to Arachne getting kidnapped and virtually murdered by Captain America and she's...better. Better enough, at least, that Dogma finally returned to work. Grudgingly. And after making sure that Arachne knew that she could come to him if she needed him and that she knew that his comm would be available all day. Arachne, however, ends up sleeping until noon, and only rolls out of bed because there is someone at the door. She yawns as she stumbles to the door, and she's still midyawn when she presses the button on the door panel. "Can I help you-?" She pauses when she comes face to chest with someone. Slowly, Arachne tilts her head back and comes face to face with Miguel O'Hara. "..." She blinks at him placidly and slowly presses the button to shut the apartment door. And then she sighs when he reaches out to keep the door from shutting. "Did you think that would actually work, Elena?" Miguel asks as he pushes the door open and steps into her apartment. "I hoped." She folds her arms over her chest, "Why are you here?How are you here?" He shoots her a severe look, "That should be my question." Arachne, who hasn't been having a stellar couple of weeks, glowers at him, "Excuse your whore mouth, I've been living here. For years." He scowls at her, "And you're still alive?" "Apparently I've become one with this reality. At least according to Doctor Strange. You can leave now." A muscle works in his jaw, "I...need your help." Arachne blinks at him, and then immediately bursts out laughing. "You? Need my help?" She grins at him, it's a very toothy grin, "I haven't forgotten what you did to that poor Miles from that other reality. Get fucked, O'Hara." A vein throbs in his temple, and Arachne loosens all of her muscles for the fight that's about to happen. So much for having a nice restful day. ****** Meanwhile, in the 501st Barracks "So, she's doing better today?" Fives asks as he lounges on the floor of the training room, sipping some water. "So she says. She was still asleep when I left this morning." Dogma admits with a shrug, "And she hasn't called, so I'm willing to bet that she's still asleep." Hardcase opens his mouth to say something, only to get caught off when the upper wall explodes inward. There's a very familiar thwicking noise, and when the smoke clears, they notice that the permacrete is suspended over the ground by webbing. And they see Arachne, clad in her purple and black suit, balanced on a web, while a much large man, clad in a very similar suit though his is red and blue, is balanced on a piece of permacrete. Both Spider people seem to be glowering at each other. "Oh, what the actual kriff-" Rex breathes out, as he gives the order for the room to be cleared.

#star wars #star wars au #arachne au #Arachne and Miguel just don't like each other #They have a massive personality clash #and there's no Peter here to mediate

[michygranger23]

Hello!! I bring to you the second part of the Spider-people to get to know them better!! Hopefully I'll continue the discduo one later today or until tomorrow. ALSO!! If you have any ideas for any of the outfits for the Spider-people I'm up to hear them!! I already have some ideas but I'm up to hear other's opinions. Anyways ONTO THE RAMBLE!!

(Part 2/2)

Spider-Nihachu "Spider-Aqua" (Earth 0311001)

Nihachu is a 21 year old woman who recently moved to New York (she used to live in Brooklyn) who shares an apartment with Minx (they're best friends from a long time and get along really well). She works at a bakery alongside Ranboo (who is a student). Tommy and Tubbo are regulars at the place to come eat some sweets and talk with the both of them (Ranboo and them are classmates)

Niki was bitten by a radioactive spider while swimming in a pool near an Alchemax building when she went to practice there. Minx never knew about the secret since Niki never wanted to put her in danger.

Her special power is that she's able to breathe underwater (the spider that bit her was a diving bell spider, the only spider that can live underwater), and she's also able to create bubbles of water that get to help her to capture villains (imagine them like if they were like bubbles, the exterior of the bubble would be water, and the interior is oxygen, so the people trapped don't drown-unless she makes the interior made of water as well-).

She lost Minx when she was fighting Mysterio (in her universe, Sam is Mysterio). He created an illusion where Minx and some rumble was falling down a building, she went straight to Minx, only to find out that Mysterio tricked her to pick the rumble, and Minx fell down the building.

Other villains she has: Tommy as Green Goblin, HBomb as Sandman, Punz as Electro, Jschlatt as Kingpin, Puffy as Black Cat, etc.

Spider-Technoblade "Blood-Arachne" (Earth 010699)

Technoblade is a 24 year old man that lives in New York with his family. Philza is his dad, Kristin is his mother, Tommy and Wilbur are his brothers. He works as a history teacher in a high-school (the same one Tommy goes to) and is also a fencing teacher in the weekends.

Techno was bitten by a radioactive spider when he went to an abandoned subway to supervise Tommy and Wilbur that wanted to explore the place, the subway was near an Alchemax building.

His special power is to detect his enemies by hearing the palpitations of their blood and their scent. He's able to smell the blood type of his enemies to recognize them, hear the beating of their heart to locate where they are, and determine how big or small their enemy is. In consequence of this power, he hears voices in his head that sometimes demand a bloodbath, he usually satisfies this by eating raw meat that still contains blood -or even some small animals- (his body needs to consume blood to survive and satisfy the voices, as if he was a vampire. The voices usually are pretty chill and annoying most of the time, but when it comes to blood, they become bloodthirsty voices). He also makes webs made by his own blood, it doesn't hurt him (that's why the name blood). He told his brothers about his secret when they caught him sneaking back to his room after a night of patrol while he was still in costume with his mask off.

He lost Kristin while fighting The Lizard (in his universe, Sapnap is the Lizard). Sapnap tried to infect the city with the lizard-gas, Kristen was in the mall the fighting was taking place on, and when Techno almost beated The Lizard, he made the mall explode, Techno was able to get Sapnap and him out of the explosion, and when he tried to caught his mom, it was too late.

Other villains he has: Quackity as Green Goblin, Tubbo as Doc Oc, Eret as Vulture, Fundy as Scorpion, etc.

AND THAT'S ALL THE SPIDER-PEOPLE!! Let me know your thoughts and opinions about this!! I'll work on the discduo one later today or tomorrow, so look out for that!! Let me know as well your ideas for the design of the Spider-people and discduo if you have any!!

#tommyinnit #technoblade #niki nihachu #nihachu #sbi #sleepy bois inc #tubbo #tubbolive #ranboo #dream #discduo Spider-Man AU #MichyAU

[katcadecascade]

If you believe the lies I tell (Snowjanus fic)

Summary: Coriolanus Snow doesn’t scent mark anyone, he doesn’t hand out tokens of his affections. No one can change his mind. Not Tigris’ pleading, not Clemensia’s begging, and not Arachne’s taunting.

Certainly not Sejanus Plinth’s gifts.

(Coriolanus Snow is a horrible omega and Sejanus Plinth is a horrible alpha. They’re a perfect match.)

Ao3

Chapter One: Bread

Word Count: 3,287

“You might be a top student, adorned by the masses, but I think there is one thing you fail at Coriolanus Snow.”

It’s not a surprise that Arachne Crane is openly taunting him. Usually she has more poise than going the direct route.

Here in the Academy’s dining hall, it’s more than their usual circle of classmates that are actively listening. No doubt by the end of the day, this little spat will go through the rumor mill.

Coriolanus has to control this little bug before he’s caught in a web.

Snow lands on top.

It has to.

He’s as collected as ever, giving Clemensia an apologetic smile, “Excuse me Clemensia, I have to go deal with this.”

“None taken, we can talk about our flawless grades later.” Clemensia flows his lead, degrading Arachne with their polite smugness.

“Alright Crane,” he addresses Arachne finally, standing to his full height but that’s too threatening.

He leans back to sit on the table, trying to ignore his half finished lunch.

It’s one thing to taunt a Snow. It’s another to interrupt a starving Coryo.

“Pray tell, what is the one thing I apparently fail at?”

Acclaming wealth.

Owning more than one clean shirt.

Gathering enough food to feed him, his cousin, and his grandmother.

Attaining his family’s former way of living any time soon.

Arachne doesn’t know this, she can’t know this. Yet she would flaunt her status much more than anyone else. Even more than Felix Ravinstill and his presidential nepotism.

The girl puts on a show, there’s a flare up in the air. Each and every one of their classmates gets a noseful of vanilla, fresh pressed and honey coated. Coriolanus wants to puke from the sweetness.

“You fail at being a good, no, a decent omega.”

This honestly catches him off guard. He can’t hide a glare before schooling his face, trying to remain as passive under the smug gaze of his fellow omega. Yet Arachne is watching him, believing she found a weak point.

As if, little spider.

“Arachne, I come to school to study.” He gestures around to their audience, “Not to flaunt around my scent. You might give people the wrong impression.”

He doesn’t bother to whisper, playing a little dirty with such an implication. Arachne doesn’t react angrily but her scent does lessen, no longer attacking his nose.

“Oh nonsense, Coriolanus,” she laughs off, “I’m just being sociable. Besides, my friends love carrying around my scent. I happen to not ever recall you gracing your own with classmates we so dearly grew up with.”

He can’t deny that. Any sort of scent of Coriolanus Snow hasn’t been spread out since they were little and on the playgrounds.

“We all have our preferences,” he begins diplomatically. “You don’t have to make a show out of something so trivial. I’m flattered that you're curious about me, Arachne but please, mind your manners.” This time Coriolanus does lower his voice, leaning down to be at her eye level, “It’s unbecoming of an omega to act so crassly.”

There’s a satisfying twitch in her left eye.

She whispers back, “You would know, Coriolanus Snow.”

The Crane heir backs away, hurries off to another table where her friends mutter to her, no doubt reassuring her that mean Snow totally got unnerved and that she didn’t look like a fool.

That’s not how everyone else will see it though. Coriolanus already sees others in the dining hall gossiping about their little spat.

Cooly, Coriolanus returns to his lunch. He’s got a bite in before acknowledging his companion.

“What is it, Clemensia?” Her hesitance flares up an irritation in his chest. One look of her uncertain frown tells it all. “No, no way. You can't be serious about what Arachne said.”

“Coriolauns,” and he instantly despises how worried she sounds. “We’ve known each other since primary school. You have never given anyone a token with your scent on it.”

She’s implying herself, trying to make him feel guilty over something that friends should do.

Gifting a piece of cloth or an article of clothing that has their scent on it or directly scenting over their glands. It’s a sign of friendship, of close companionship and community. Also the earliest stages of courting but for the most part the intention is platonic. Scent marking as a comfort for the pack.

Traditionally, it is the omega companion to initiation gift giving.

Coriolanus Snow can’t give away the little possessions he has just to prove he has friends. He could not sacrifice any of his clothes or money to please others, he would never. If he doesn’t bother with gifts, then there is no chance he’ll let anyone scent his neck.

“There’s no need to hand out my scent like holiday cards, Clemensia.” He says it slowly, like he’s lecturing a small child and not the person he aces school projects with.

Clemensia presses her lips into a thin line. Not happy with his explanation but she doesn’t fight back.

Good.

He doesn’t want to deal with this. It’s a useless fantasy to dream of.

In an ideal world, the Snows would have a full wardrobe, a well stocked kitchen, pristine furniture and a rose garden always in bloom. Nothing regarding a nest or gifts with scents were ever in Coriolanus’ priorities.

They continue on with their lunch. Clemensia’s wounded attitude remains but Coriolanus refuses to give in. He can repair their partnership with another passing grade. They work well together, he’ll admit that.

Just as the dining hall clears out, right as he’s about to swipe away some food into his school bag, Clemensia is still next to him.

“I’m sorry,” she begins, unknowingly wasting his time to steal food, “I didn’t mean to offend you or be pushy about scenting.”

He tries not to stare at the remaining food. An apple for Tigris and some bread rolls they can use for breakfast.

“Apology accepted Clemensia,” he tries to leave it there, willing her to turn away but she continues.

“Still, I just always wondered why. We all grew up with each other, we’ve seen how everyone’s dynamics presented and know their scents. Scent marking just became natural for us except…”

“Except for me.” Coriolanus didn’t need to force himself to match her sadness. “Clemensia, I just don’t want to be swamped with so many scents. I’m not sorry. Nothing that Arachne says will change my mind.”

He knows not to say ‘nothing that you say will change my mind.’

That’s just too mean, too directly in Clemensia’s feelings. Yet she’s smarter than he gives credit because there is a twang of sadness in her scent. A bitter tea that unnerves Coriolanus’ senses.

“Okay,” she says, “but if you ever need anything, you can tell me.”

This is permission to something Coriolanus won’t ever take her up on. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

A genuine smile accepts his empty words, the scent of lavenders are once more fresh.

“Let’s get to class, Coriolanus.”

Clemensia stands up with no intention of taking her food tray to one of the trash bins. They have janitors to clean this all up, after all.

Under her gaze, Coriolanus leaves his food behind and follows suit. He struggles to think of what could be for dinner now. More often than not, he relies on Tigris for their dinners but he can’t always expect her to be lumped with its work.

He has to push those thoughts to the side as he focuses on his classes. Yet once in a while he catches Arachne’s eye.

Was this her intention? Rattle him up with criticism on his dynamic as an academic distraction? It’s so stupid that it cannot be true. This is just his paranoia, his hunger bleeding to his fears. Luckily none of his thoughts are broadcasted into his scent, he will never allow that major of a slip up.

Scent blockers are a requirement just as much as their school uniform. A daily pill that conceals anything surface level. While its effectiveness varies from person to person, it’s all about self control. Not once in his spat with Acrahne did his scent falter or reveal itself. For years he has kept a handle on it. The most integral communicational instincts of everyone and Coriolanus Snow has never partook in that exchange of trust.

Tigris and the Grandma’am are the only ones who’s faced the blunt force of his scent. The Snows were their own pack, in agreement to never let anyone in. They couldn’t afford to.

Yet under Grandma’am’s knowledge and her deteriorating sense of smell, he catches Tigris with tokens. Colorful scarves or shawls that smell of a multitude of friends. He has no idea who they could be. Coriolauns never had the boldness to ask.

Knowing that his alpha cousin scent marked tokens for others made Coriolanus wonder about doing his own. It’s a conflicting idea.

On one hand it’s the norm, exchanging scented gifts strengthens bonds. It all staves off loneliness and invites kinship and intimacy. But the idea of pouring his heart to anyone is terrifying. Coriolanus absolutely refuses the idea of letting anyone lay some sort of mark on him.

He simply can’t so he rejects gifts and never offers a token to anyone else.

It’s for the best.

Yet it happens everyday. A traditional courtship that just became a commonplace occurrence in the modern day. This small and simple thing that sends a wave of envy down with his hunger.

Sometimes the gifts are food.

The rest of the Capitol has it so easy. With enough food and clothing to leisurely give to anyone who catches their eye.

He hates that they all have so much to give but he’ll hate it more if anyone gave him a token. Because it means they want something from Coriolanus Snow.

The moment anyone realizes that he has nothing to give, it’s over.

Coriolanus Snow has to remain as perfect as ever. One of the top students of their year, in the good social graces of his peers or can dominate any smack that Arachne can throw at him. Here at the Academy, no one can know how far the Snows have fallen.

No wealth.

No food.

No one else to rely on.

A blinding envy roots around his cerebral cortex, seeing everything he has ever wanted in every other student he passes. Clemensia Dovecote has her intellect. Urban Canville is a calculus genius. Felix Ravinstill can and will use nepotism by virtue of being related to the president. Even Arachne Crane uses her lavish wealth for her fashion habits.

Worst of all there is Sejanus Plinth. It’s hard to ignore his existence ever since primary school.

The boy from District Two who’s father literally bought their place in the Capitol. Drowning in more money than others, Sejanus still acts like he’s a plain boy in the Districts.

Everyone views him as an outsider. Coriolanus tolerated him better than most. After all, he’s smart enough to not get on the bad side of money, no matter if it came from the Districts or Capitol.

Sejanus may not be the one to start arguments but he certainly finishes them.

It’s the only proof of his alpha nature.

By the time they all began their studies in the Academy, there hadn't been much fighting amongst themselves. Only the usual snipes from Arachne or boasts from Festus.

Today surprises Coriolanus by how many of his classmates want to make fools of themselves.

When classes are done, everyone heads out the Academy’s grand doors to where lines of valets are waiting to pick students up.

None of these automobiles are for Coriolanus. He hadn’t had a chauffeur since his mother was alive. So he remains inside the building, pretending to read or assuring his kinder classmates that he’s waiting for the crowd to die out.

He always declines Clemensia’s offer to take him home.

No, he can’t risk her seeing how bad his house is, let alone the disrepair the street is in.

Coriolanus planned his routine well enough after all these years, once there’s no more cars around he is free to walk the long way home.

To his dismay there are two cars waiting for passengers by the hour mark.

“Hey Plinth, fancy seeing you here!”

“This is school Festus, if anything it’s a shock to see you’re still around.”

Fantastic, another one of Festus getting a rise out of Sejanus. That boy is a glutton for humiliation.

Coriolanus manages to hide behind the doors, outside of anyone’s perspective but also leaving him in the dark.

Thankfully Festus is loud.

“A shock? Wow, that really hurts my feelings, Sejanus. I thought we were friends.”

A snort is almost a reflex, Coriolanus can’t believe how utterly transparent Festus is. What in the world is he doing, trying to butter up to Sejanus?

“Festus, I already told you, no. I’m not doing it. Also I don’t believe we were ever friends.”

“Alright, but what about Persephone? She’s like the nicest girl in class. Do it for her.”

“I see why you’re doing this. It’s really sweet of you to try to arrange this but I’m not doing all the work just because you can’t do it yourself.”

That gets Festus to shut up for a moment, likely reflecting on his soul on Sejanus’ words. Maybe he’s turning over a new leaf and becoming as honorable as Sejanus Plinth.

“I can sabotage Urban to flunk so that you can get the top calculus score.”

Or not.

“Festus, just stop. No party is worth screwing over your friend’s grades.”

“It’s for Persephone’s birthday! It’s worth it to me to get her favorite desserts.” A ragged sigh makes it sound like Festus is truly suffering, “She just had to love your homemade cookies and your mom’s red velvet cake.”

“They are really good, so I’ve remembered. I can’t quite recall the last time I baked you all pastries.”

About a couple of years ago, back in their early primary school days. Coriolanus recalls perfectly the time when Ma Plinth brought the most delicious baked goods to their class. He and Persephone had to hold back tears from eating that red velvet devil cake. They knew they were in the same boat of starvation at that time.

Persephone Price’s family fared better in the later months, no doubt pushing those dark times of desperate stomachs and questionable meals to the back of their minds.

As for Coriolanus, on his worst days he’d remember the taste of those peanut butter cookies. His stomach aching for its weight while his ego despises the fact that they were made by Sejanus Plinth.

Many of their classmates teased Sejanus for doing the work of servants after that day. As a result, Sejanus never again brought them food.

Coriolanus Snow hated all of them. They don’t know the games of hunger they put him through. Maybe that’s why he never felt like scent marking any of them. A young stomach never forgives those who deny it food. It’s easier to blame them all for his hunger.

“My answer is still no, Festus.”

From the silence, it sounds like they’re doing a staring contest.

Utterly bored, Coriolanus uses the best of his imagination on what Sejanus looks like.

Brown hair that’s too curly, too unruly. Moles are scattered on his face, one predominantly on his cheek. He can’t ever recall Sejanus’ smile. Maybe once when they were little but it’s hard to picture that wet-eyed, plain looking boy onto the young man with soul-seeing eyes and a defensive scowl.

Tis the fate of someone surrounded by enemies, any genuine kindness out of sight.

Festus leaves stomping. No doubt back where he started, frustrated by Sejanus Plinth. Coriolanus can sympathize with that.

“He’s gone now.” Sejanus’ voice sends a chill down his back. “You can come out, Coriolanus.”

Coriolanus can really sympathize with Festus on being frustrated by Sejanus.

He steps out, taking in the empty courtyard. There’s a car waiting for the Plinth so Coriolanus has to deal with him before walking home.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” he tests out something that’s not quite an apology, but it does paint him as not at fault.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sejanus shrugs. “Unless you want to tell Persephone how desperate Festus is trying for her.”

He thinks he understands what this is all about. “If Festus is trying to give her the perfect cake for her birthday, then he should try a little bit harder than begging for it. Or conspiring against Urban’s calculus skills.”

That surprisingly makes Sejanus laugh, “A conspiracy for good grades? That sounds like something Dennis comes up with, not Festus.”

“You obviously don’t know Festus’ grades, then.”

It’s strangely easy to talk with Sejanus. It’s mostly just making fun of their classmates but enough to feel normal. But that’s a ridiculous notion, Coriolanus is only so carefree with his tongue because it’s only them here.

No one’s around to witness Coriolanus Snow being friendly with Sejanus Plinth.

That’s for the best when the richer boy takes a step closer. He’s actually taller than him but Sejanus is broader in the shoulders, his uniform well fitted.

“Coriolanus, I…” Sejanus awkwardly stumbles with his words, leaving Coriolanus hopelessly confused.

He quickly opens his satchel, takes something out to shove into Coriolanus’ hands. He blames being too curious to just reflexively hold whatever this is.

It’s a balled up handkerchief. Flipping one corner over reveals bread rolls.

An ache rings around his stomach. A usual reaction to food but this makes Coriolanus nauseous.

He saw. He has an idea, no matter how small, on Coriolanus Snow needing food.

For a split second he has the urge to throw it all to the dirty ground. Survival instincts stop him.

“Coriolanus?”

His voice is so small, like he sees Coriolanus as small.

A bitter fury shakes through his hands as he shoves it into his bag. Coriolanus refuses to even look at Sejanus, being reckless by knocking their shoulders together as he stomps off.

This is the type of alpha Sejanus is. Always giving others a reason to hate him.

He could not begin to care if Sejanus is curious as to why the Snow is not driven home or why he wanted to scavenge food.

Sejanus already knows too much and Coriolanus will not provide any more ammunition to be used against him.

When he gets home his feet humm with tension, too much marching the weight of a poor boy. Yet this little bundle of food weighs truly on his mind, trying to pin down Sejanus in his memories.

Arachne tried to make a mockery of Coriolanus in front of as many people as she could get. If anyone paid attention to him, they would’ve noticed if he ate with starving rapture, which he didn’t. They would’ve noticed him save the remainder of his lunch in his bag, but he never got the chance to.

All Coriolanus did was send one last parting look at his lunch tray before Clemensia took him to class. That was enough for Sejanus Plinth to witness, to know something is wrong with Coriolanus Snow.

As he takes in the peeling wallpaper, the creaking floorboards, the dulled and worn down furniture, and the ruin of his once beautiful home, Coriolanus hopes that Sejanus won’t know more about him.

He takes out the handkerchief and now inside these cold walls, away from the world and its endless distractions, he smells it.

Nutmeg.

It’s not from the bread, its smell is on the cloth.

Coriolanus hates how good it smells.

-

Thanks for reading!

#snowjanus #snowjanus fic #my fic #coriolanus snow #sejanus plinth

[let-me-take-your-soul]

So Arachne is a spider, yes?

And did you know spiders don't like peppermint?

So does Arachne not like peppermint?

I like to imagine an au where Kid did research on spiders before the arachne battle, and when the aprtoi come face to face with her, he just whips out a spray bottle of peppermint extract and sprays it in her face.

She just like yowls and is like "NOOOOO YOU HENIOUS BRAT HOW DID YOU KNOOOOWW?"

And now the entire of spartoi + teachers are laughing their ass off as Arachne is curled up in a ball on the floor and Kid is dead-faced and completely serious as he repetitvely sprays down at her.

He has two more bottles locked and loaded.

This IS a fic request.

This request gave me a good giggle! I like the thought of witches sharing similar weaknesses to their familiars! Thank you! (Also this is one of the most lighthearted fics I've written for this fandom so far lol)

Kid taking down Arachne with the power of peppermint essential oils:

Kid was completely prepared for this moment. He had been researching witches in depth since he knew they were a threat. When he learned about Arachne and her organization Arachnophobia, he figured that finding ways to keep spiders away was going to be a smart idea. Planting peppermint around the academy and spraying every potential entryway with citrus was the start to ensure there weren’t spiders creeping in to spy on the academy for Arachne.

During his research on witches though, Kid also found that witches tend to carry a lot of the same traits and habits of their familiars. Figuring that there could be no harm by trying, Kid tucked away some peppermint sprays as he and the academy prepped themselves to ambush Arachnophobia’s headquarters. 

Infiltrating the base was rough, but Kid managed to keep a lot of their positions secured by repelling lingering spiders in the area with his DIY sprays. The long nights putting together concoctions to keep the academy secured and ignoring Liz and Patty’s jabs about him getting carried away with all of his “DIY Spider Repellant” videos was paying off. 

Each team split up to find each major villain in the base, and Kid was going to make sure that he was on the team to find Arachne. As his group ran through the halls, they came across a large set of doors. Slowly, the group pushed them open, only to be pulled in through the doors by first, their eyes traveled up a large web to see Arachne staring down at them.

They were face to face with her now- her eyes were mocking, as if they were all flies caught in a web.

“I must admit, you did a splendid job at avoiding my babies. How did you manage to keep them away from you?” she asked as she slowly lowered herself from her webbed throne.

The second she touched the ground, Kid lunged forward, lobbing a gas can full of his peppermint spray her way. Once the scent hit her nose, she froze up, her eyes watering, and her demeanor changing to one of panic and anger.

“So this is how you got here. By using cheap tricks to upset my spiders!” 

As the spray continued to swirl higher around her, she began coughing and finding a way to escape the cloud of minty fresh gas surrounding her.

Kid caught a glimpse of his teammates and teachers as he moved in further to continue bombarding Arachne with sprays until she gave in. Everyone seemed to be in a state of amused shock at the sight.

“Well, are you just going to stand there and wait for me to run out of this?” Kid calls out to them.

Luck was on the academy’s side as they all went in for the capture. Arachne was infuriated, her ego shot at being captured by something so simple. As she plotted her escape, she knew that a change would need to be made and also began the plans for a mask to keep out any scents that would throw her into coughing fits.

#soul eater #soul eater imagines #soul eater imagine #soul eater fanfiction #death the kid #dtk #arachne #arachne gorgon #request #mortallychoppedgalaxy

[psalm22-6]

Vianden Seen Through a Spider’s Web by Victor Hugo (1871) [source]

I was reading Victor Hugo and the Visionary Novel by Victor Brombert (would recommend) and in his analysis of Le Dernier Jour d'un Condamné he says that spiders often represent fate in Hugo’s works. Well I wanted to see if that was true for Les Misérables.  Honestly it seems like the relationship between ananke and arachne is more prominent in Notre-Dame than in Les Mis because I did not find much but then again, I haven’t done any literary analysis since high school so if you see anything I missed please add on. 

Mostly spiders turn up where you would expect them: in unwelcoming places like at the Thénardiers, at the Gorbeau hovel (both when Cosette lives there and when Marius lives there) and in the dingy room where Cosette Pontmercy receives Valjean (“Persecution of the spiders was not organized there”). I guess you could say that those are places where the characters have little control over their fate (of the few things Cosette remembers about her early life, she remembers the spiders, which can be read literally or figuratively). 

Javert, Montparnasse, and Thénardier (especially Thénardier) are all like spiders when they track Valjean but none of them succeeds. Valjean is spider like when saving the man aboard the Orion, but Hugo points out that it’s more of a reverse spider move. 

Spiders spin webs on the doors through which dead nuns leave the convent. Maybe this portends a rare window of opportunity. The most fateful allusion to spider webs I think is the light cast by the lanterns that look like webs, which Marius walks by on his way to the barricades, intent on dying. Those webs seem to follow him through the sewers, where Valjean feels caught by them and on the brink of death.  

Only Myriel has sympathy for the humble spider, saying  “Poor beast! It is not its fault!” Simplice’s mind is characterized by the absence of spiders, since she never tells a lie. The children in the convent explore the spider corner, which doesn’t seem very sinister. Contrast that with the terrible spiders that share Gavroche’s living space. 

Below the cut are all the references to spiders & spider webs that I found so that you can see for yourself, just copy and pasted from the Hapgood translation. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. 

CHAPTER I—SISTER SIMPLICE: To lie is the very face of the demon. Satan has two names; he is called Satan and Lying. That is what she thought; and as she thought, so she did. The result was the whiteness which we have mentioned—a whiteness which covered even her lips and her eyes with radiance. Her smile was white, her glance was white. There was not a single spider’s web, not a grain of dust, on the glass window of that conscience.

[The Bishop] CHAPTER XIII—WHAT HE BELIEVED:  One morning he was in his garden, and thought himself alone, but his sister was walking behind him, unseen by him: suddenly he paused and gazed at something on the ground; it was a large, black, hairy, frightful spider. His sister heard him say:— “Poor beast! It is not its fault!”

Why not mention these almost divinely childish sayings of kindness? Puerile they may be; but these sublime puerilities were peculiar to Saint Francis d’Assisi and of Marcus Aurelius. One day he sprained his ankle in his effort to avoid stepping on an ant. Thus lived this just man. Sometimes he fell asleep in his garden, and then there was nothing more venerable possible.

[The Thénardiers] CHAPTER II—TWO COMPLETE PORTRAITS: Cosette ran upstairs and down, washed, swept, rubbed, dusted, ran, fluttered about, panted, moved heavy articles, and weak as she was, did the coarse work. There was no mercy for her; a fierce mistress and venomous master. The Thénardier hostelry was like a spider’s web, in which Cosette had been caught, and where she lay trembling. The ideal of oppression was realized by this sinister household. It was something like the fly serving the spiders.

CHAPTER III—THE ANKLE-CHAIN MUST HAVE UNDERGONE A CERTAIN PREPARATORY MANIPULATION TO BE THUS BROKEN WITH A BLOW FROM A HAMMER: At last, the convict raised his eyes to heaven and advanced a step: the crowd drew a long breath. He was seen to run out along the yard: on arriving at the point, he fastened the rope which he had brought to it, and allowed the other end to hang down, then he began to descend the rope, hand over hand, and then,—and the anguish was indescribable,—instead of one man suspended over the gulf, there were two.

One would have said it was a spider coming to seize a fly, only here the spider brought life, not death. Ten thousand glances were fastened on this group; not a cry, not a word; the same tremor contracted every brow; all mouths held their breath as though they feared to add the slightest puff to the wind which was swaying the two unfortunate men.

CHAPTER I—MASTER GORBEAU: All this was dark, disagreeable, wan, melancholy, sepulchral; traversed according as the crevices lay in the roof or in the door, by cold rays or by icy winds. An interesting and picturesque peculiarity of this sort of dwelling is the enormous size of the spiders.

[Valjean at the Thénardiers] CHAPTER VIII—THE UNPLEASANTNESS OF RECEIVING INTO ONE’S HOUSE A POOR MAN WHO MAY BE A RICH MAN:  He traversed a corridor and came upon a staircase. There he heard a very faint and gentle sound like the breathing of a child. He followed this sound, and came to a sort of triangular recess built under the staircase, or rather formed by the staircase itself. This recess was nothing else than the space under the steps. There, in the midst of all sorts of old papers and potsherds, among dust and spiders’ webs, was a bed—if one can call by the name of bed a straw pallet so full of holes as to display the straw, and a coverlet so tattered as to show the pallet. No sheets. This was placed on the floor.

In this bed Cosette was sleeping.

CHAPTER X—WHICH EXPLAINS HOW JAVERT GOT ON THE SCENT: Then he began the game. He experienced one ecstatic and infernal moment; he allowed his man to go on ahead, knowing that he had him safe, but desirous of postponing the moment of arrest as long as possible, happy at the thought that he was taken and yet at seeing him free, gloating over him with his gaze, with that voluptuousness of the spider which allows the fly to flutter, and of the cat which lets the mouse run. Claws and talons possess a monstrous sensuality,—the obscure movements of the creature imprisoned in their pincers. What a delight this strangling is!

Javert was enjoying himself. The meshes of his net were stoutly knotted. He was sure of success; all he had to do now was to close his hand. . . When he reached the centre of the web he found the fly no longer there. His exasperation can be imagined.

[Description of the convent] CHAPTER VIII—POST CORDA LAPIDES: Towards the centre of this façade was a low, arched door, whitened with dust and ashes, where the spiders wove their webs, and which was open only for an hour or two on Sundays, and on rare occasions, when the coffin of a nun left the convent. This was the public entrance of the church.

[Chapter about the children in the convent] CHAPTER IV—GAYETIES: The refectory, a large apartment of an oblong square form, which received no light except through a vaulted cloister on a level with the garden, was dark and damp, and, as the children say, full of beasts. All the places round about furnished their contingent of insects.

Each of its four corners had received, in the language of the pupils, a special and expressive name. There was Spider corner, Caterpillar corner, Wood-louse corner, and Cricket corner.

[wow there are no spiders until Patron-Minette] CHAPTER IV—COMPOSITION OF THE TROUPE: From the vagrant to the tramp, the race is maintained in its purity. They divine purses in pockets, they scent out watches in fobs. Gold and silver possess an odor for them. There exist ingenuous bourgeois, of whom it might be said, that they have a “stealable” air. These men patiently pursue these bourgeois. They experience the quivers of a spider at the passage of a stranger or of a man from the country.

[Marius at the Gorbeau house] CHAPTER VI—THE WILD MAN IN HIS LAIR: The only furniture consisted of a straw chair, an infirm table, some old bits of crockery, and in two of the corners, two indescribable pallets; all the light was furnished by a dormer window of four panes, draped with spiders’ webs. Through this aperture there penetrated just enough light to make the face of a man appear like the face of a phantom. . . . One thing which added still more to the horrors of this garret was, that it was large. It had projections and angles and black holes, the lower sides of roofs, bays, and promontories. Hence horrible, unfathomable nooks where it seemed as though spiders as big as one’s fist, wood-lice as large as one’s foot, and perhaps even—who knows?—some monstrous human beings, must be hiding.

[“Alone with God, in a remote place, they will not be thinking of praying the Our Father” Marius discovers Jondrette’s plan to rob M. Leblanc] CHAPTER XIII—SOLUS CUM SOLO, IN LOCO REMOTO, NON COGITABUNTUR ORARE PATER NOSTER: Athwart the mysterious words which had been uttered, the only thing of which he caught a distinct glimpse was the fact that an ambush was in course of preparation, a dark but terrible trap; that both of them were incurring great danger, she probably, her father certainly; that they must be saved; that the hideous plots of the Jondrettes must be thwarted, and the web of these spiders broken.

[Valjean and Cosette live outside the convent] CHAPTER IV—CHANGE OF GATE: Her childhood produced upon her the effect of a time when there had been nothing around her but millepeds, spiders, and serpents. When she meditated in the evening, before falling asleep, as she had not a very clear idea that she was Jean Valjean’s daughter, and that he was her father, she fancied that the soul of her mother had passed into that good man and had come to dwell near her.

[Montparnasse attacks Valjean] CHAPTER II—MOTHER PLUTARQUE FINDS NO DIFFICULTY IN EXPLAINING A PHENOMENON: While Gavroche was deliberating, the attack took place, abruptly and hideously. The attack of the tiger on the wild ass, the attack of the spider on the fly. Montparnasse suddenly tossed away his rose, bounded upon the old man, seized him by the collar, grasped and clung to him, and Gavroche with difficulty restrained a scream.

[The Elephant] CHAPTER II—IN WHICH LITTLE GAVROCHE EXTRACTS PROFIT FROM NAPOLEON THE GREAT: An entire and gigantic skeleton appeared enveloping them. Above, a long brown beam, whence started at regular distances, massive, arching ribs, represented the vertebral column with its sides, stalactites of plaster depended from them like entrails, and vast spiders’ webs stretching from side to side, formed dirty diaphragms. Here and there, in the corners, were visible large blackish spots which had the appearance of being alive, and which changed places rapidly with an abrupt and frightened movement.

CHAPTER I—FROM THE RUE PLUMET TO THE QUARTIER SAINT-DENIS: Only the solitary and diminishing rows of lanterns could be seen vanishing into the street in the distance. The lanterns of that date resembled large red stars, hanging to ropes, and shed upon the pavement a shadow which had the form of a huge spider. These streets were not deserted. There could be descried piles of guns, moving bayonets, and troops bivouacking. No curious observer passed that limit. There circulation ceased. There the rabble ended and the army began.

[Valjean is slowly pushed away] CHAPTER I—THE LOWER CHAMBER: This chamber was not one of those which are harassed by the feather-duster, the pope’s head brush, and the broom. The dust rested tranquilly there. Persecution of the spiders was not organized there. A fine web, which spread far and wide, and was very black and ornamented with dead flies, formed a wheel on one of the window-panes. [And in the same chapter Cosette complains about receiving Valjean in a room with spiders, in the next chapter Nicolette gets rid of the spiders]

[through the sewers] CHAPTER VII—ONE SOMETIMES RUNS AGROUND WHEN ONE FANCIES THAT ONE IS DISEMBARKING: All was over. Everything that Jean Valjean had done was useless. Exhaustion had ended in failure.

They were both caught in the immense and gloomy web of death, and Jean Valjean felt the terrible spider running along those black strands and quivering in the shadows. He turned his back to the grating, and fell upon the pavement, hurled to earth rather than seated, close to Marius, who still made no movement, and with his head bent between his knees. This was the last drop of anguish.

#les miserables #my research #brick annotations

[shobi-enzo]

Gorgon Sisters Headcanons (if they ever get along as sisters)

when shaula created her first jewelry/s as a child, she gave them to her sisters as gifts. It was then she realized she enjoyed making jewelry.

I'm pretty sure the gorgon sisters had a really difficult time trying to master their magic. Like medusa had broke multiple bones and nearly died many many times, Arachne received alot of psychological damage and shaula accidentally killed many people with her mind control magic and nearly her sisters.

They love to roast or insult each other for fun. I can imagine it goes something like this. Arachne: MEDUSA! YOU DAUGHTER OF A SLUT!! Medusa: Let's not forget that we both came from the same mother, arachne. Shaula: *LAUGHS* Medusa: Shut up, Shaula! You're our sister too!

It's not uncommon for witches to die due to the fact that they cannot control their magic. The sisters were scared of learning magic in such as a young age but they did it anyways because they were forced to do so. Keep in mind, their magic is powerful as well as dangerous.

even though they barely know how to control their magic, they did the best they could to help each other. They even supervise each other to make sure no one gets hurt. sadly it fails miserably but they really tried. Arachne would try to stop medusa from flying all over the place and hurting herself and catch her sister with her webs. Sometimes she caught her, Other times she don't because it was too fast. Shaula tried to help catch her sister too but fails. She did help in patching her up. remember when i said that Arachne received alot of psychological damage from her magic? well Shaula and medusa would try to help their older sister snap out of it. There are times when Arachne got stuck or tangled in her webs. Her sisters helped her ofc but not without making fun of her. As for shaula, there are times when she accidentally got her sisters in her mind control. There was one time where she nearly unalived them. Shaula felt horrible but that didn't stop her older sisters from helping her as much as possible. It doesn't matter how many times they got hurt or nearly died due to her mind control, her older sisters WILL help her. No matter how many times their magic hurts each other or themselves, they will always apologize, cheer up and patch each other in the end.

Growing up, Arachne and Shaula would accidentally step on medusa's tail. Sometimes they would step on it on purpose either for fun, to wake their sister up, playful revenge, etc.

To medusa, having her tail being stepped on hurts as being kicked in the balls. That's why her sisters loves to step on it for fun. Medusa would be screaming at the top of her lungs whenever that happens.

Aside from using it as a weapon, Medusa's tail can actually show whatever she is feeling. like it wags when she's genuinely happy. Her sisters teased her about it. Using her tail as a weapon could mean that she can control her tail. Meaning she can hide her emotions. If you were one of her closest friend or sister, she would let her guard down and let her tail show her emotions for her.

For some reason, i have this cute headcanon that they use to call each other nicknames. Arachne - rane or arane Medusa - medy or medi Shaula - shauwi or shauy (idk how to spell)

Medusa was the first to learn hand to hand combat and taught her sisters about it.

If they would get along as sisters, not involved with dwma and not obsessed with madness, they would live "normal" or normal lives. As in they got sick of being discriminated alot. they would go out from time to time ofc.

I feel like their love language for each other is quality time. They'd be in separate areas and the next thing you know they are all hanging out in one room. Arachne would be doing her work, medusa would be reading a book or sleeping, and shaula would be working on her next jewelry. Sometimes they have deep conversations or small talks. There will be cursed conversations at times.

Sometimes they would all sleep in one bed and have a girls night. just like when they were kids.

Sometimes Shaula and arachne calls medusa "hair necklace" for fun.

they rarely fight. But when they do, its for petty reasons or no reason at all.

i feel like all three of them loves to be at home rather than going outside. Among the three of them, shaula goes outside more often. Medusa does it occasionally while arachne rarely goes outside. She only does it when necessary.

They rarely say "i love you" to each other. But when they do, it's because they are not confident that they can't live much longer. They used to say "i love you" to each other so often when they were kids.

they trust each other with their entire being and souls. Ofc. like if ever one of them got turn into a hostage, they'd just be chilling like they're at home. They know that one holding them hostage will die a gruesome death.

Shaula is a very expressive woman while her sisters are a bit reserved. She also loves to ramble about her interests and sometimes any random topic. (I'm sorry for grammatical errors)

#soul eater #soul eater headcanons #soul eater medusa gorgon #medusa gorgon #arachne gorgon #soul eater arachne gorgon #shaula gorgon #soul eater shaula gorgon #soul eater medusa gorgon headcanons #soul eater arachne gorgon headcanons #soul eater shaula gorgon headcanons #just randomly thinking about villains and an au where they are not evil #its a false hope i know #but its not bad to dream

[eleftheria-moon]

Arachne

Winding and weaving,

Tugging into fragile hoops,

Spinning webs of excellence;

My artful tapestry gleams,

Poisonous in its glory,

Its beauty, undeniable.

Won’t you praise me?

My loosened threads are tightened ropes,

Caught in nets, tied ‘round necks,

Cursed to games of tug of war;

Polished hands start trembling,

Needles prick them tenderly.

After all the work I’ve done,

Please, won’t you crown me?

My stitches are heavy chains,

Shining in the watchful Sun;

Girls dally in his observance,

Battling with pearly poses,

Smiling their golden worth.

My Lord, radiant master,

O King, won’t you choose me?

Greater than goddesses, I am.

Best of all women, I am.

I am inevitable,

I am infinite,

I am yours.

#poetry #poem #feminism #feminist poetry #greek mythology #arachne #greek myth #literature #writing

[fromthespiderverse]

Hunting Spiders Part 1

A/N: Stepping into my oc's story with a BANG. Also if you haven't read Spider-man: Grim Hunt, you should, it's so good.

| Warnings:

Foul Language

Mentions of suicide

Blood

Violence

Life threatening situations

It is good to see Peter, always, but certainly not like this.

"We kick some Kraven butt right here; you gonna clue me in to what's going on?"

"Something besides that they have lost their minds?"

"Let's start with the butt kicking and negotiate the rest later...because frankly I don't have a clue."

The three of them leap into battle, Peter quipping, "Alyosha, right? Freddie Mercury called and wants his vest back."

"No jokes this time, Spider. This is the Grim Hunt."

Arachne offers a comment of her own, "And this is us tearing you a few new ones," as she faced the lady of the pair who chattered off in a delirious manner.

"Spyder, Spyder, burning bright, in the forests of the night..."

One of her knives slashes through the shoulder of Arachne's costume, though doesn't do much beyond surface damage.

"Watching with your saddened eyes, waiting in your web to die..."

"You've lost some marbles, lady!"

Peter wasn't doing too good in his fight with Alyosha, falling towards the rooftops with the other man making sure he can't swing to safety.

"You came to the party early, but I'll take the kill where I can get it--"

"Bull. I'm getting off this crazy train right h-"

Alyosha's gun goes off right then, battering Peter's ear drums.

He clutches his ears as he continues to fall.

That cleared the sinuses...but bye bye hearing. Except, what's weird...other than EVERYTHING that's happened in the last ten minutes of his life, is that he doesn't have the high pitched whine that usually accompanies hearing loss...instead--

He hears drums. Thick, slow drums.

Hands clasp Peter around the wrist, saving him from hitting the ground as Alyosha goes crashing through a skylight.

"What the hell? You're suppose to be the fresh one!" Arachne says.

"I'm having an off decade."

"Well, gather yourself, we need you."

"No, I think...we should..run."

"We should run," Arachne says in agreement.

As the three of them swing away, the woman berates the man, "Alyosha, YOU IDIOT! He's not ready!! Focus!"

---

"They've been at me since ten this morning. No clue how they found me, or what they want," Arachne says as they leap towards a roof

"I'm no psychic," Peter tells her, "But I think they want you dead."

"Guys-"

"I forgot what a jackass you can be. That's why we never dated. And you bit my costume."

"Glad to see you don't hold a grudge. And did you consider dating me?"

"Guys could we not do this-"

"You sound like hell."

Would you believe swine flu on top of everything?"

"God, were you a serial puppy strangler in a past life or something? What's going on here?"

"The fashion plates are Ana and Aloysha Kravinoff."

"As in "Kraven the Hunter." Got it. Why are they after me?"

"They are also pursing me as well."

"Not just you," Peter said, shrugging, "They're hunting Spiders," apparently. Which reminds me, I really have to get back to my apartment-"

"Not until we hit the why?" I'm not picking them up psychically, so hit it-"

"There ends my exposition, Julia...sorry. Maybe it's a revenge thing? Kraven offed himself because of me and they never really got over it."

"That's compassionate."

"It's the H1N1 talking, really."

Arachne crosses her arms, "Even if they are out for blood, it's not like we're "family." You sort of do your own thing, usually-"

"They kicked the living hell out of my clone."

"They went after brother?"

"You have a "clone?"

"Yeah, a couple- and for the record, I had them way before everyone was getting replaced by Skrulls. Talk about "biters.."

Arachne sighs, "God, you're stupid."

Peter sighs out his nose, "Yeah, I get that way when I start feeling like I'm caught up in something really really scary... Speaking of... Do you hear drums?"

"Actually--"

Peter whips around and lets loose a wide shield of webbing, "MOVE!"

Darts rain down on them.

Arachne tries to go for cover but a dart strikes her in the shoulder.

Alyosha crashes down onto Peter's back, hitting him feet first, "I know you won't believe this, but I think I feel sorry for you. For what's going to happen."

"Too late for pity, brother," Ana calls, whirling around her weapon, "It has already happened. Mother has seen to everything."

Arachne clutches her hand over her should, being careful of the dart buried in her shoulder, "Damn, I hate this kid...Spidey? I'm hit..."

Peter wrestles with Alyosha. They're too close to the roof's edge.

"Y'know...for a guy who likes big guns..." Peter grips Alyosha by his vest, and rolling back, lifting the other man with all the force he could bring, tossing him over himself and off the roof, "You have a real bad habit of getting too close. Your father would be disappointed."

Peter shoots a web across the gap, towards an attacking Ana, who's just started to throw her weapon at Arachne, striking her with it, blinding her momentarily, and cause he weapon to go off cross, Arachne ducking.

"Thank God..."

Below him Alyosha roars, screaming out in pain as he's pierced through by the large piece of metal that had been waiting below. Luckily for him, even if he doesn't not know it now, the wound would not be fatal.

"Now that sounds like the Kraven Junior I know," Peter says, almost mockingly, "A whining, screaming failure."

He fires webs at Ana, plastering her to the wall, "And you just zip it, freakshow!"

He leaps down to when Alyosha is pinned, demanding to know, "What do you want!? Why are you hunting "Spiders"? Why...? Why..."

Peter strikes, punching Alyosha across the face, though the punch is sluggish, "Why won't you leave me alone...?"

Peter feels dizzy.

Alyosha chuckles, "Heh...Wait until you see. You're going to love it."

Ana starts yelling as Peter presses his fingers to his temple, hearing those drums before again, "...Oh, man. My head..."

"PREPARE, SPYDER! THE END HAS COME!"

Peter falls.

He thinks about how Ana is still yelling in that little psychopath voice of hers, but he can't catch the words, not over the drums... and the thought that he might finally get some sleep.

#spiderman #spidey #peter parker #arachne #julia carpenter #spider-man oc #spider clone oc #alyosha kravinoff #anastasia kravinoff #spider-man: grim hunt #my fic

[leolingo]

So, let me be a dear and give you an gree pass to talk about ideas for the new AU (we need a shorter name for that-) or to put a fictet

-White

in hindsight i know very little about spiderman and should’ve probably thought about this before bringing up the scenario lmfao. this is to say ill be making stuff up as i go (read: borrowing world building and mechanics from dc which is what i do read ..)

man I thought i was being so original and was about to suggest the alias ARACHNE for roier but it turns out theres already a marvel hero by that name fuck everything WHATEVER. arachne is a cool hero name im claiming it. I thought of using it because of the greek myth about the weaver who was more skilled than the goddess Athena and got cursed to become part spider, as a “punishment for her arrogance” . he wears that mantle ironically, naturally. he’s doing the punishing.

hero roier would honestly be more like vigilante!roier. he’s a genetic experiment— stemming from getting caught up with an ill-intentioned research lab as a child — and because of that he can shoot webs from his wrists (the material is stifling enough to suffocate, not that he has needed to resort to this more than a handful of times.), can use arachnid vision (with an extra set of eyes just below his human ones) and is just generally a very good acrobat.

unlike a friendly neighborhood spiderman, he DOES kill. it’s not something he’s proud of, and it’s not like he’s racking up body counts, but there’s history there. this roier is down for anything to ensure his survival and this includes hurting people, though he tries not to.

i briefly entertained the idea of roier wearing his hero suit WHILE in drag as melissa, just as an extra layer of protection for his civilian identity (we need a reason why his identity would be so important though… help me out?) but honestly idk about the practicality of it! its just a cool visual lol and funny to think about when cellbit tries to unmask him for the first time and finds a Beautiful Girl……

as for cellbit in this au, i think he’d actually be more of a journalist! a classic! our lois lane stand in or whatever! and I thought maybe he’d become fixated on finding arachne’s true identity after a close encounter — like being saved from an active robbery or something. he’d be almost obsessed with this figure and go really really far in trying to find the person behind the mask

#im calling this #arachne au #ask #white #oajdjdkdjjsjd this is fun ill develop it more in the future

[slicing-clovers]

HUMIDITY || @monmuses, continued from here.

A LOW CHUCKLE filled the humid air, as Kairi let her arachnous legs gently step over to the shower entrance. While Pandora was just draping a towel about herself, the arachne was quick to push a dulled chitin claw against a lower strand of her beloved's hair, tucking it behind their ear with utmost care.

There was a glow rising in her six eyes, one that was eager, longing even. Though the fanged smile beneath them was itself rather gentle, there was no denying that she saw in her dear Pandora some form of pure, glowing, radiant beauty... and she was wanting in on it.

With how much it was making her breaths deeper, her heart beat faster... so much for making webs, gosh darn it, for this succubus caught this arachne three times her size without one.

"On that, goodness, you're damn right," she purred, her tone rich and deep, as she let Pandora's light kiss warm her cheek. "It's taking everything I've got in me not to treat you too much like outright prey... but, if you're alright with me letting a little bit of that go—"

She placed a couple of her claws beneath Pandora's chin, gently lifting their face upwards. A soft gaze, and a ravenous one, meeting in an air so thick and seeping with desire... it was killing her not to act.

"—perhaps you can show me just what I've been meaning to find, koibito."

#//coffee and tea: ic #//mountain air: rp #//metal muscle: karen #//cultural exchange: demihuman verse #monmuses #(( good lord it got humid in here;;

[mmmmalo]

Did anyone ever get a good sense of ulterior meanings to "arachnidsGrip"? Something other than being caught in a web. Ovid's Arachne apparently hangs herself before being transformed into a spider (who likewise hangs), so I wonder if "noose" fits... a nod both to her relationship with Terezi and Vriska's own gallow chasing inclinations, maybe.

Also kinda suspect the asterisk is conceived as a pictograph of a spider, such that the name could be productively misread as arachnidsGlyph or something. Which would point us to the red asterisk on her Goonies eyepatch that kinda marks her eye for excision? and thereby brings us around to execution again, by way of association with the red X.

#asterisk might also mean asshole #same as 'uranianUmbra' #friggin 'dark of ur anus' #but anyway #vriska #homestuck commentary

[aspiringfictionwriter]

A Light in the Darkness: Chapter Three

Trigger warnings: Major character death, temporal paralysis, morbid themes (please notify if there is a need for an update)

Arachne was nose deep in a book, as she always was, despite the disturbing news of a raid against the Fifth House of Abburth, House Caddath. Or what remained of it, as House Eilservs had taken their position overnight at their successful raid against the seemingly secure House.

That night, the remains of House Caddath would be destroyed. From the architecture of their beautiful, ornate, home, to the children that remained. Some priestesses, not descended from Matron Angaste Caddath, would be admitted to House Eilservs, perhaps even lower or higher Houses should the tide of luck allow it to be.

As such, she was admitted into the room she was now, her only guard being the Elderboy of the House, Bemril, a warrior holding much honor and strength (and second hand to K’yornl, the leader of the forces of House Coborial and Head Teacher at the warrior school of Slaekmia), who Matron Aunerae had put in charge of her firstborn daughter’s protection as she and the army destroyed the remains of House Caddath.

Despite her Bemril being much older than her, he understood his place as below her in the grace of Lolth and their Matron, and as such more important than he ever could be despite his age. Although, the two had a structured relationship in which they entertained each other in basic swordplay, as it happened quite frequently in the time that Arachne had to be watched, and in turn, Bemril’s responsibility to protect her.

A triumphant feeling it was, as the two sat down, holding in laughter they knew, if heard, they would be chastised for, it would be dangerous for both of them. Bemril for sacrifice, and Arachne for another week of discipline in the underground caverns below the House, meant to torture and strike fear in the hearts of females.

Setting her wooden sparring stick to the ground, that acted as a bastard sword or rapier, her smile faded, realizing how inappropriate this was should they have been caught. Bemril did the same, instead sheathing his own bastard sword. 

“By chance, would you be hungry, dear sister?” Bemril inquired, rubbing his wrists from the long session. While she wasn’t too good, Arachne, it was long and hard work to hold back even just a little bit. 

Settling back into her seemingly superior state, Arachne sat back in her cushioned chair, “Yes, I would be.” she replied simply, watching as her brother opened a parcel of food, of which seemed to contain mushrooms. She had to convince herself not to cheer in joy, and instead nod in approval, as mushrooms were her favorite food. Especially those from just outside the city.

Handing the fine silken handkerchief (embroidered with the pattern of a spider’s web, as all things in the Underdark were) to her, she politely ate despite her craving for the soft vegetable. Ignoring the urge to shove each mound into her mouth, she ate one bite at a time, her front teeth breaking into the soft cushiony skin of the vegetable, that, curiously enough, they [the drow] and the surfacers shared.

“How is the book?” Bemril asked between her next mushrooms, sitting up straight on his rigid chair, opposite to her own cushioned one. It was a question he asked frequently, seeing as whenever she wasn’t with her tutor, Elarra, she was in the library studying ancient text, history, religious lore, and even the few fiction books the library possessed. Arachne couldn’t possibly wait until she could go to the library in Gloufmarth and read their even more varying archives, although more catered to spells, they had more histories and lore on the surface, that of which she was the most interested at the moment.

“Quite interesting, actually. It describes how we liberated ourselves from the elves and, in turn, found our way to the original city Telantiwar, and follows as the four main cities were created. Abburth, Aleval, Rilauven, and Fanaedar were all founded by Houses that were long since snuffed out by the passage of time.” Tapping her chin for a moment, Arachne continued, “We liberated ourselves almost two million years ago!”

“Interesting. Did you know our Spider Queen has two children?” Bemril asked, a look of anticipation adorning his face. Raising a brow in confusement, she shook her head, urging him to speak further. “Now, Her son is named Vhaeraun, God of Thievery and a devout servant to Lolth.”

“How strange.” Arachne admitted, shrugging, “How much chaos that would cause is unbearable if we did worship Him!” He almost let loose a chuckle, instead being snuffed out by anticipation in interest.

“And Lolth’s daughter is named Eilistraee, Goddess of the Moon and Music.”

“Moon? What’s that?”

“Something the surfacers have, a glowing ball in the sky that shimmers silver in the light of the night, and, like the candlelight of Mystérieuse when it is lit. Although it marks the surface light hours, the light that is emitted by the flame in the day is of a similar gleam of their moon in the night.” Bemril explained to her, eyes wide and twinkling with joy.

“But why don’t we learn about Eilistraee, then, if She has the domain of two of the most wonderful things?” Arachne inquired, picking at her cuticles in confusion.

“As most rebel drow worship her.” Her brother replied, warranting a nod from the young dusky skinned girl, who held her chin tall. “And she turned away her Mother’s love and blessed touch.

“How curious. Why would She turn away Lol–” Her sentence was cut off by a sudden feeling of her muscles tightening up as she spoke, mouth caught agape. 

Fear shot through her body, the scenerios of murder flashing through her head faster than she could speak, if she could even fathom such a task in her current state. Was it Chadra?, she thought, as her sister reveled in her skill with poisons and was proud of already being forgiven for her Original Sin, as she had killed a drow elf with her spider-headed whip that they had both been gifted at age six. But she wouldn’t yet dare, as Arachne was one of the most guarded children in the House, due to her importance and status.

So it had to just be Bemril, acting alone…

Watching as Bemril approached her, a culpable frown on his face, he ran his hands down her cheek, crimson eyes looking into her lavender ones for a moment before opening his mouth to speak his final words to her, in which she felt ring inside her head longer than any words she thought would.

“And those who turn Lolth away are heroes to all of us, followers of Eilistraee. And they will find us at the other side of this damned cavern.” Bemril cooed, and as he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her stark white hair, her dearest brother took out a burlap sack from within one of the many hidden pockets within his pitch black cloak, embroidered with the House Crest in glistening silver strings on the back; eight symmetrical eyes hidden inside a diamond-shaped gem, most likely a ruby of some sort. 

Unclipping the cloak from his collarbone, he wrapped it around her, skillfully tying it so as to ensure she remained both fettered and bound by the hands, and, she hoped, to keep her somewhat warm in whatever journey he was about to traverse on with her, albeit involuntarily.

With some difficulty, he lifted her in the sack, whispering arrays of apologies and assurances that did not aid in Arachne’s worry and fear, reassuring her that all would be safe once they “escaped.” Whatever that may have meant, it seemed more impossible than it was safe, as he tried to tell her it was. Even escaping the House would be near impossible…

But everyone else is gone due to the eradication, except for Chadra and Xarann. Arachne realized, her already widened eyes increasing their size. Today was the best time to try this; as the only people outside of the House were those under Bemril’s command who knew not of his obligations to protect his sister, and would just assume he wasn’t at the eradication ceremony at the central plaza simply because Matron Aunerae commanded it, and therefore would not even dare to question him.

From Arachne’s position, she saw as the sack was tied shut, and what humans would call darkness, she had just experienced. Not even her darkvision could spare her from the enclosing darkness that surrounded her as she felt Bemril begin his walking, the up and down sequence becoming rhythmic before he ceased walking and began to talk in an empowered tone.

We’re at the door already…

“Step aside, Matron Aunerae wished me to complete some business for her.” Bemril stated, and Arachne almost prayed that the guards wouldn’t fall for his deceit and smooth words, but instead stop him or ask what was inside the sack. Realistically, though, she understood that no one would wish to cross him, as he could have them killed.

“Yes sir!” The two drow elves spoke in unison, no hesitation weighing down their tone. Arachne wished, at that moment, that she could scream for help, order the guards to set her free so she need not fear. 

Bemril began to walk again, and after what seemed like an eternity of anticipation and fear, he began to run, darting past what Arachne recognized as the sounds of her House, or perhaps she was falling asleep. She couldn’t tell, not in the darkness she was encased within.

~

When Aunerae arrived at the Coborial House, a swarm of guards and priestesses behind her, protecting her flank, she felt as if a strange predicament was amok. It was strange, as nothing could have possibly gone wrong, as the eradication had gone smoothly, seeing as all children, soldiers, and family members of House Caddath had been killed, as per the procedure.

But, yet, she could not shake the feeling that something was amiss. As if something was going on without her knowledge, and Lolth was warning her. Narrowing her eyes, she turned to Elarra, her right hand for the time being until Arachne and Chadra came of age, who returned her gaze the moment she felt it set upon her.

“I sense as if something is not quite right.” She began, her voice lowered to a small whisper, “We will be going through the guards who stayed here immediately.” Aunerae ordered, warranting a nod from her subordinate before she stepped forward to open the large, spider encrusted, metal double-doors of the House, that were further guarded by a black ivory gate that stood the tests of time by about ten thousand years.

Almost at the exact juncture of the last drow being pulled into the House, Aunerae had disappeared with Elarra, marching their way towards the back doors of the House for a report. No one would question her paranoia, as it was normal to be as such when your next in line daughters were only seven years of age, and could barely defend themselves from the predators that lurked within the shadows of the Underdark. Always.

When they had come to the back door, not as glorious as the front, as it was meant as a discreet military escapeway, Aunerae towered over the two meager males standing below her. She could tell on their face, and it brought her much satisfaction, that they were attempting to hold strong despite their indisputable fear.

“Matron Aunerae, for your knowledge, Ser Bemril has just recently headed out on the business you wished him to complete.” One said, a deep and strong voice wavered from below her gaze and glorious beauty; silky white hair tied back into a helmet that framed her face, whilst she wore glimmering plate mail made to worship her Queen with all of her might and power.

“I sent him on no such business. What did he have with him?” Aunerae hissed through clenched teeth, as she found herself hoping that her fears were incorrect and he simply just went to get Arachne the mushrooms she so cherished; but either way he would be harmed severely and tortured accordingly, although if he had done something else, sacrifice was the only liable option.

“A sack, Matron Mother.” The second stated, bowing his head.

“Was it filled with something?” She inquired curtly.

“Yes, Matron Aunerae. It appeared lumpy and heavy, as Ser Bemril’s stride was slowed. I have seen him walk many times, and it was at a much faster pace than he had been moving.” The second soldier replied, standing up tall as he looked up at his Matron Mother with certainty adorning his features, coupled with a swell of pride, as he understood his contribution to the House.

“Then show us where he went.” Aunerae demanded, narrowing her ruby-like eyes.

~

Arachne had felt the movement cease quite a time ago, as Bemril hummed small songs that sounded as if they were hymns from a far off place. When they had originally stopped, her brother had been panting, desperately needing air to enter his lungs, so, she supposed, he took a break, tucked away in a secluded corner of the city.

Most likely near Lowtown, Arachne figured, as the bustle of the Other Races were noticeable from just a ways off, as they always did in the lower parts of the city, in which the lower, weaker, Houses and Other Races dwelled. Bugbears howled and brawled amongst themselves for their women or for their dinner, whilst Duergar hammers hit against anvils as a sign of power and dominance. Strangely enough, it was an unfamiliar environment that she knew so much about, it was startling.

Arachne still could not move, although, unlike how she had at the beginning, could blink and open and close her mouth, despite the fact that her tongue and vocal cords remained still and unmoving. It brought some comfort, despite the fact that she still hadn’t the faintest idea of what Bemril intended to do with her. There were indications of a few things, yes, but she had always been taught to not make sudden assumptions unless they would save her life. Elarra was still teaching her such things, although from her own reading exploits she had developed some sort of inner voice directing her to the understanding of complex things.

The assumptions Arachne had already acquired were rather simple, and she refused to believe that her eldest brother could stop to those lows of meager plans. Most were plans of her own demise, but one idea stuck out to her like a hidden gem amongst the black cobblestone that surrounded her whenever she prayed to the Spider Goddess. That of which regarding the last word her brother had uttered to her. About followers of Lolth’s rejected daughter, Eilistraee.

“And those who turn Lolth away are heroes to all of us, followers of Eilistraee. And they will find us at the other side of this damned cavern.”

The use of the pronoun “us” suggested the unthinkable, that of which Arachne couldn’t fathom. That of the crime of blasphemy, which was an even more major offense than anything else in the Underdark, as the society was heavily driven by their devotion to Lolth and her ways. Anyone found to be guilty of such an unspeakable offense was then, after their gruesome sacrifice, considered to never-be-named again, as their disgrace against their House and blood was something that no one wished to restate in words.

If she could move, she would have been shaking. Arachne couldn’t even wrap her head around the almost impossible idea that Bemril, someone so devout to Lolth that he had gone to a meditative retreat to strengthen his connection with Her, would do such a thing. But then again, with his previous statement fresh in her own mind, he could have used that as a facade to worship the other Goddess he spoke of– Eilistraee.

Arachne, caught out from her thoughtful spell, was lifted out of her fabricated prison by her brother, who looked down at her with softened red eyes, a look of which was foreign to her. All she saw was a hardened glare that asserted fear in the hearts of the weak, and even possessed such a look herself; either that or a look of petrifying fear before the victim’s airways were severed from their very being.

Her numbed legs naturally laid themselves out so Bemril’s knee was similar to the like of a chair, as her arms splayed outwards to be adjusted by her brother’s own hands to wrap around his neck. Arachne had never been so close to anyone before physically, (although Bemril took the award for the person she was closest to emotionally as well) as such contact was almost unheard of in the violent society, and as such, the closest she had ever been to anyone was being cradled by her mother’s arms as a babe for feeding.

“You’re scared, aren’t you?” Bemril inquired, knowing full well he would not receive an answer back, “Don’t worry, Arachne, you don’t need to hide it here. Not anymore. Where we’re headed, you can be whoever you want, you don’t even need to be a priestess. You could be a scholar of the highest esteem and learn all about the surface world and the truths of this one. Or perhaps you could be a musician. I’ve seen your eyes light up as music played in the arena before the bloody finale.” Chuckling, he stroked her hair with affection that she had yet to understand. “Eilistraee judges no one, dear sister.”

It was a confirmation of her worst fear. Bemril was, indeed, a blasphemer, a martyr, and a traitor to Lolth and the family bloodline. There was no doubt that if they were caught, he would be brutally sacrificed in front of no one but Matron Aunerae and Arachne, who would be forced to participate in it as she was the one who suffered from it and would be expected to harbor disdain.

“And perhaps when we reach the surface, we can live in harmony with the surfacers, as brother and sister. They can respect that, right?” Bemril was absentmindedly speaking, as if he had forgotten the severity of which the surfacers despised their race for the constant pillaging and murdering. Not to mention the hatred that the elves nursed for them, due to the corruption of the elven name.

Arachne so badly wanted to correct him, but she also found herself wishing for these same things. Peace and harmony, where she could live in an equal society with anyone who she crossed paths with that was not the same gender as she, without the worry of a flogging should she deny the need to assert her power and strike fear in the hearts of her lowers.

As she closed her eyes, accepting her fate, almost anticipating the whiff of freedom that may be given to her if they even made it out of time, Arachne heard the undeniable voice of her mother splitting her train of thought and whispering into her mind as if she was directly adjacent to her.

“Arachne, where are you? Where is Bemril? What is he doing? Did he leave you? Can you leave where you are? Respond back immediately.” The voice of her mother demanded, the imprint of her voice lingering in Arachne’s own head as if it was pending a response.

Willing herself to do so, Arachne used what little archaic power she knew how to manipulate to respond to her Matron Mother’s questions, deciding her response to be brief, to mimic Matron Aunerae’s message, as she didn’t know the limitations to whatever spell she hoped was cast. “Border of Lowtown, I think. He’s with me, and is saying he’s going to take me somewhere out of Abburth. No, I’m unable to leave.”

Due to the strange anomaly, Arachne wondered if it was because of the use of a clerical spell that she had seen in the use of books, for the distribution of military orders. Or perhaps it was in desperation that she was hearing the voice of one of the only people who was in the power of saving her and bringing her home, as any of the Other Races could take her away, but there was no guarantee that she would be brought home. The Houseless were unreliable and selfish, as were the Lower Houses of Abburth, who may just kill her to hinder Matron Aunerae’s strength. So, in truth, her mother and the people in her House, mainly a select few, were the only people who could save her and guarantee her safety.

Hoping that it was, indeed, something that she could foresee all Arachnecould do  was lean into the warmth of her brother’s arms and accept the foreign feeling of what she believed to be platonic affection (as described in her books of religious rules, and how platonic affection as well as romantic ones (although also forbidden) should not sway your dedication to Lolth and Her ways.) It was a strange concept– affection. Caring for someone so much that you would do anything to ensure their safety above all else was something the young drow elf could not fathom nor understand. Your own survival and power should be your utmost priority… right?

At that moment was when the slow stroking of her long white hair ceased, although she could feel a lock being intertwined by the gloved finger of Bemril, although all his own movement had stopped entirely. Arachne then felt a cold hand against her cheek, pulling her stiffened chin to look up into her own mother’s cold and enraged crimson eyes.

Despite the immense pit that had grown in her stomach, Arachne felt her body reinvigorated with the sudden loosening of her tightened muscles and the twinge of discomfort caused by the numbing of her tendons and joints soon dissipated as a strange feeling of warmth erupted through her being. Pulling herself away from her mother’s grip and from Bemril’s own paralyzed hold upon her (with some minor difficulty), the young drow stood again, restabilizing herself on the hard ground before she looked up at her mother, who was in a rare form of rage.

“Explain to me what happened this instant.” Matron Aunerae demanded, looking towards someone behind her, who emerged from an impenetrable shadow that Arachne could not see past, most likely through the magical darkness the drow could cast, and made herself known as the young heiress’s tutor, Elarra.

Moving to the side to not be a hindrance in the conversation, she began to bind Bemril with thick ropes and confiscated his weapons with a tantalizing pace, as if to flaunt his failure more than Matron Aunerae undoubtedly would, either after his death or before it, to squander his memories before death. Arachne once recalled her mother telling her that she enjoyed imagining that in the cases of sacrifices, she was always the last thing they saw before their demise, she almost related it to a sadistic pleasure.

“I can only guess that the means of my paralysis was because I ate the mushrooms Bemril gave to me, and when I couldn’t move, he mentioned something about drow rebels and then put me in a sack and ran.” Arachne decided to leave out the part about the children of Lolth, instead trying to not pile on more reasons for a more painful sacrifice, and of course for the fact that she rather liked the idea of being the only one who knew of their existence. It seemed like quite the fun game.

“Then you will have no issue in taking the final breath from him?” Matron Aunerae stated roughly, looking down at her, fully expecting the honor to be accepted with the enthusiasm she was allowed to show. But, instead, Arachne felt herself perplexed by such a demand, a feeling of great sorrow filling her heart, a feeling she seldom felt, as her heart, numbed from torture and discipline, was trained to only have her feel when she needed to show anger.

Arachne had to pause a moment, to carefully choose her words, and yet a stutter still plagued her speech, and therefore she cursed herself for showing what little weakness she had. “B-but don’t we need to sacrifice him properly? Wouldn’t it be in our best interest to increase our favor with Lolth?”

Her mother stormed up towards her, metal breeches clanking against the hard stone of the ground, her thin and strong hands grasping onto Arachne’s collar, lifting her up enough that her feet grazed against the stone. “You will do as I say. You are my eldest heir and your hands remain free of blood, unlike that of your sister’s. You will kill this traitor, otherwise your blood will be spattered upon on the ground beside his.”

Forcing herself to nod her head, Arachne felt her feet touch the ground once more, and as she looked up at her mother (of whom she had thought to be perfect and wise before all that had happened not even a moment ago), she spoke with a clear voice, feigning her disregard to the whole situation. “Yes, Matron Aunerae.”

Pulling a knife from her boot, she looked down at her still held brother, whose eyes were wide in fear and smitten in sorrow. A content smile remained on his features, undoubtedly from when he was initially held, causing an immense feeling of discomfort to surround her feelings, so much so that it felt like it was only her and Bemril, and the rock of which his body was propped up against. His hands, although suspended by their mother’s clerical magic, were shaking from fear and anticipation; and there Arachne knew that the way his eyes shone was how she always looked.

Feeling Matron Aunerae’s eyes burning through her skull, Arachne held the knife in her own smoothened, untouched hands, flipping it through her own hands once or twice before looking down as she stood on her knees. Whispering the  two small words that she knew in the common tongue of the surface, far too quiet for her mother or tutor to hear, even if they had meticulously studied the first chapter in a book about the surface word and how they said something when they felt remorse for something, it was unlikely they would remember. So as she whispered these words, she prayed that Bemril would remember when she showed him the book and spoke such words to him.

“I’m sorry.”

___________________________

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[occultusrp]

LAVENDER ARACHNE.

NAME: JASPER CLARE of CLARE.

OCCUPATION: ARCHITECT. 

AGE: 32.

PRONOUNS: HE/HIM.

FC SUGGESTIONS: Luo Yunxi, Aarif Rahman, Lee Soo-Hyuk, Tao Okamoto. *note this character is of East Asian descent.

LAVENDER.

The eldest of three you took on the role of a caretaker as easily, naturally and effortlessly as you could. Your delight over having siblings never dwindled, not even when they grew and started clashing, snarling at each other like rabid dogs. Your parents tried soothing the conflicts and when gentless failed, they took to punishments. You never agreed with those things, finding that isolating your siblings from one another proved more damaging than helpful, but while they expected you to take care of your siblings, they never asked for your opinion on how to deal with their conflicts. So you buried yourself in the family library, unleashing your hidden artistic talents and drawing your days away. Sketching was only one of your interests and when your mother discovered your aptitude for mathematics and geometry, she spared no expense to hire a tutor for you.

You’re an architect now and with your talents up in the sky, you’ve built a name for yourself. Ambitious and charismatic, you caught the attention of lord Crowley, so when he decided on renovating and upgrading his mansion, you were the first architect he consulted and hired to do the job. Your life is a song right now, a sweet lyric of the Muses, but you know fortunes are tumultuous, so you try to stay modest, lest your talents would get to your head. 

ARACHNE.

You’re a weaver, a little spider weaving your web to keep your family together. A grand architect of emotions and reason, you spin your silky thread around those you love the most. But everyone fears arachnids, they fear the venom coursing their hidden fangs and you feel that venom boiling inside you. You hope it won’t erupt, for if it does, those you love the most could end up drowning in it. 

INVITED TO TEA.

OLEANDER PEGASUS & DATURA UNICORN. You’ve always been closer with Pegasus than with your sister, but you care for both of them deeply. Your siblings are similar in character, so they often argue and it’s up to you to calm the tensions between them, leaving you to endlessly worry about them. You often wish they wouldn’t be so unreasonable, fighting and quarreling over every little thing.

DRAGONBLOOD CETUS. Lord Crowley is more than just an employer, he is a father figure you desperately need. You seek his approval as if he’s your true blooded father and you’ve started caring for him in the same way, the care that comes genuinely and not weighted by the amount of coins he presses into your palms.

CALLA CENTAUR. No one understands you like he does, not even your own siblings. He’s a friend, a confidante and quite possibly the most important person in your life, save your blood relatives. You enjoy his presence more than anything else in the world, but as of late your work as his father’s architect had cut those jovial meetings short. 

BELLADONNA NYMPH. She’s pretty and nice and you find yourself flirting way too often with her whenever you meet in passing. You know Jessamine Daemon would never approve of you, but you find light flirtations with their daughter a harmless, amusing pastime. 

LAVENDER ARACHNE IS PORTRAYED BY WU KANG REN AND PLAYED BY HEATHER.

#lavender arachne #closed #all #new rp #original rp #regency rp #skeleton rp #period rp #lsrp #horror rp #supernatural rp #mystery rp