#malfunctioning space suit

[stealingyourbones]

Hi! So I was into DP years ago, then earlier this year got into Batfam fics, then saw my first DC x DP crossover and just 💥

So now I’m on a new obsession that has me reading every one of your prompts and any stories that come from it and I just had this one flood my brain:

Presumed Alien Danny

So for [insert reason here] Danny has to flea Amity and the living world to stay in the Zone. He’s injured, and therefore forced to use the Fenton Specter Speeder, and flies it into the portal. Only, whether due to a malfunction, Clockwork, or something else, instead of the Ghost Zone, the Speeder gets spat out of a portal in the DC universe.

So, on the other side, the Watchtower gives an alert that an unknown energy is spiking nearby, and then a spaceship/pod looking thing comes flying out of a flash of green. It’s spinning out of control, and headed for a desert on Earth. A team is dispatched, I’m thinking Superman (alien), Green Lantern (alien law enforcement) and Batman (obvious. Kid bait).

So they get there within moments of the crash, find the thing totaled, Superman hears a strange, humming/thrumming accompanied by groans, and he cracks what’s left of it open to see this green-eyed, white-haired kid with very bad injuries and green blood covering what looks like it could have been some kind of space suit. He grabs the kid, gets him out, and Lantern makes a shield that contains the massive explosion that leaves the ship/pod nothing but charred bits lying scattered across the sand.

They get the clearly alien child to the watchtower for medical help, and though they heal very quickly they still need a lot of stitches, mainly because the first set melted and they had to use ones designed for metas with corrosive abilities.

Then, a day or so later, still healing but not in danger, the kid wakes up, stares wide-eyed at the people around him, and exclaims something I a strange language.

Yeah, definitely alien.

Danny wakes up, sees a bunch of weird, costumed people all around him, and tries to ask what the heck is going on. They all stare in confusion. One guys, who’s glowing green but a different shade, had a ring that starts speaking in a different language.

So, I figure, in an alternate dimension, the English language developed differently, so Danny’s English and the DCU’s English aren’t the same. Hence more Misunderstandings.

Also, if Connor is in this, it’s not until after Danny’s been found. 😎

So Danny gets introduced via the Green Guys magic translating ring, finds out they think he’s an alien, thinks he’s still in his world, where the Anti-Ecto Acts are a thing, and goes with it. They introduce him to the younger hero’s his age, and once he’s better they set him up in their base to live, since obviously he can’t stay on the watchtower or blend in. A few weeks in is enough for Danny to get confused by all the differences and look into it, and realize he’s in a new dimension. But he’s already knee-deep in this, so he just doesn’t ever mention it, and just refers to his ‘home planet’ as Amity.

Meanwhile, the alien kid, Danny, seems to be adjusting well, if a bit confused by the strangest things at times. The planet he mentioned as home was listed by the Lantern Corps as one destroyed by a black hole a few days before Danny’s pod showed up, so they avoid asking about the clearly painful and traumatizing experience. Superman, upon learning about the boys skill set, takes him under his wing.

TLDR-

Through a series of misunderstandings and coincidences Danny is premised to be an alien child by the Justice League and taken in as Superman’s apprentice/son. He does not correct this assumption, either ever or until he is outed by something/one else.

homie I am in love with this idea. Presumed Alien Danny makes me so happy.

I will like to add: The not-quite-english that Danny is speaking is akin to old English.

#Presumed Alien Danny #danny phantom #dp x dc #dc comics #writing prompts #dpxdc #dp x dc prompt #bones replies #norasalina

[divine-donna]

hey, can you make Miguel O'Hara X gender neutral reader? Where reader (Miguel lover) accidentally get teleport or glitch in the spider verse where they (the Spidey's) were in the middle of chasing miles? Thank you! <3

hi anon. i'm happy to write this for you.

i wrote this in the form of headcanons rather than a fic. i'm still recuperating from finishing dragon age: inquisition, the succession finale (even if it was like a week ago), my adrenaline high from the across the spiderverse, and the other things i have written already.

some creative additions i made: this is a spidey! reader. i think it naturally made more sense to have a spidey! reader rather than a civilian. i would have to jump through a lot of hoops for a civilian reader to make sense and my brain does not have the capacity to jump through those hoops right now.

you deserved a well needed rest. after all the work you had been pulling to keep the multiverse safe, it was the least you deserved. especially a nap.

what you didn't expect when you went home was to just fall asleep on the couch.

you had gone out with your friends, finally caught up with them, and changing into some comfortable lounging clothes. you had plans to watch the newest 3 hour long ego project the director called a movie. and naturally because it was 3 hours long and an ego project filled with nothing, you ended up falling asleep.

what you forgot to take off was your multiversal band. you always kept it on in case of emergencies.

you also had a habit of rolling around in your sleep a bit. and you don't have the best luck with technology.

naturally your band malfunctions and you're thrown into the portal and transported back to hq.

ideally you didn't want to be falling through the space. but you were. and that woke you up.

"fuck! fuck! fuck!"

you had no web shooters. why would you? who sleeps with web shooters anyways? (actually there are some spider people that might)

and the worst part is, no one seemed to notice that you were falling. because they were busy doing something else.

when you squinted your eyes, you saw what was happening: every single spider-person that was at hq was chasing after one singular spider-person.

you didn't know who it was but from the looks of it, it looked like a young spider-person. someone who was only a kid.

if only you weren't just free falling-

"(y/n)! what are you doing here!" a familiar voice exclaims.

he caught you in midair, swinging safely to the nearest platform that wasn't stampeding with spider people and other variations of spider totems to set you down.

you took in his appearance. his hair was disheveled and his fangs were poking out. you also noticed his talons were out too and his breathing was heavy.

"i...i was teleported here on accident." you explain. "what is going on?"

"i can't talk right now. go back home! it's supposed to be your day off!" he gives you a small kiss on your cheek and prepares himself to jump off the platform.

"miguel, who is that?"

"miles morales. he disrupted a canon event and now the multiverse is at stake! and we're trying to prevent him from causing another one."

"okay well did you try talking to him?"

"of course!" he exclaims, turning to look at you. "it's the first thing i did. but he doesn't want to listen. now i have to catch him before he disappears!"

he doesn't even wait for you to respond before jumping off. as much as miguel loved you and loved talking to you and cherished your presence, he had to catch up to miles. he had to stop him.

he had to save the multiverse.

you were left with a sinking pit in your stomach. something told you that today was not the day to take off.

but first you needed to find lyla or margo to help with your watch so you can grab your suit and equipment and come back.

#requests #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spider-man 2099 #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #x reader #male reader #female reader #gender neutral reader

[herrscherofinsanity]

Sticky Situations

Four times Jimin "successfully" hides her superhero persona and one time she actually fails.

Fluff

Yu Jimin (Karina) x fem!reader

Word count: 2.5k

Spider!Jimin is finally back

____________________

Wardrobe malfunction.

Yu Jimin stood in her room, struggling to pull her superhero suit over her head as quietly as possible. She had just received an urgent call about a bank robbery in progress, and she needed to spring into action as Spiderwoman; but as she wrestled with the fabric, she heard the telltale sound of y/n's footsteps approaching.

Panicking, Jimin glanced around the room for a hiding spot, but there was nowhere to conceal the suit in time. Thinking quickly, she grabbed the suit and hurled it across the room, hoping to buy herself a few precious seconds.

Just as Jimin released the suit, y/n swung open the door, her eyes widening in surprise at the sudden crash. "What on earth was that?" she exclaimed, peering into the room.

Jimin's heart raced as she racked her brain for an excuse. "Uh, probably just a raccoon," she blurted out, mentally kicking herself for the absurdity of her response.

y/n raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "In your room?" she deadpanned, giving Jimin a pointed look.

Jimin shifted nervously, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Well, you know how it is in the city," she mumbled, hoping her roommate would drop the subject.

Thankfully, y/n seemed to take pity on her flustered roommate. "Anyway, I was actually looking for one of your hoodies," she said, changing the subject. "Mind if I borrow it?"

Relieved by the change in topic, Jimin nodded eagerly. "Of course not! Help yourself," she replied, gesturing toward her wardrobe.

As y/n rummaged through Jimin's clothes, Jimin couldn't help but steal glances at her roommate, feeling a familiar flutter of affection in her chest. Despite her clumsy attempt to conceal her secret identity, Jimin couldn't help but feel grateful for her roommate's understanding… and for the opportunity to spend a little more time with her.

____________________

2. I’m calling 911

Jimin trudged wearily back to the dorm, feeling utterly exhausted after a long night of crime-fighting as Spiderwoman. Her muscles ached, her clothes were torn, and she had a few scratches on her face and arms from her latest skirmish with a group of villains. She couldn't wait to collapse into bed and forget about the chaos of the night.

As she pushed open the door to her dorm room, Jimin let out a weary sigh, expecting to find an empty space where she could recuperate in peace. Luck definitely wasn’t on her side though. To her dismay, she spotted y/n lounging in the common area, looking up from her phone with a surprised expression.

"Jimin, what happened to you?" y/n exclaimed, jumping to her feet and rushing over to her disheveled roommate.

Jimin's heart skipped a beat at the sight of y/n's concerned expression, her blood pressure skyrocketing when her roommate cupped her face to get a better look at her injuries. "Oh, uh, it's nothing," she stammered, trying to play off her battered appearance. "Just got into a little scuffle with a raccoon, that's all." Another raccoon? What the hell is wrong with you, Yu Jimin?

y/n raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Seriously, Jimin? Another raccoon?" she asked incredulously.

Jimin chuckled nervously, feeling the weight of y/n's scrutiny. "Yeah, I know, it sounds ridiculous," she admitted. "But this one was really aggressive. I just wanted to pet it, but it didn't seem to like the idea..."

y/n shook her head, a mixture of amusement and concern in her eyes. "You and your raccoons," she muttered, reaching for her phone. "I'm calling 911. You need to get those scratches looked at."

Jimin's heart swelled with gratitude as she watched y/n fussing over her. Despite her ridiculous excuse, y/n was always there for her, ready to take care of her no matter what. She couldn't help but feel a rush of affection for her roommate, grateful for her unwavering support and kindness.

As y/n dialed the number for emergency services, Jimin couldn't help but smile to herself. Maybe her excuse was a little far-fetched, but it was worth it to see the concern in y/n's eyes and feel her warm touch as she checked Jimin's injuries.

____________________

3. Sticky situation

Jimin and y/n were enjoying a quiet movie night together in their cozy dorm room. Jimin had suggested they watch a movie, and y/n readily agreed, eager for some quality time together.

As they settled in for their movie date, Jimin's heart fluttered with excitement at the prospect of spending quality time with y/n. She had been looking forward to this all week, relishing the chance to snuggle up with her girlfriend and enjoy a relaxing evening together. Jimin had even prepared a selection of snacks to share, eager to make the night extra special.

However, as the movie started playing and Jimin reached for the bowl of popcorn, she felt an odd sensation. The popcorn seemed to stick to her fingers, defying gravity as if held in place by an invisible force. Confused, Jimin tried to shake it off nonchalantly, hoping y/n wouldn't notice.

But the strange phenomenon persisted. Every object Jimin touched seemed to adhere to her hands, making it increasingly difficult for her to maintain her composure. She discreetly glanced at y/n, who was engrossed in the movie, completely unaware of Jimin's predicament.

Jimin's mind raced with questions. Was this some new manifestation of her powers? Had she accidentally activated her sticky web ability without realizing it? She frantically tried to release her grip on the popcorn bowl, but it stubbornly clung to her hand, defying her efforts.

Panic started to rise within Jimin as she struggled to conceal her growing distress. She couldn't afford to reveal her secret identity to y/n, not when their relationship was still so new. Desperate for a solution, Jimin racked her brain for a plausible explanation to offer when y/n inevitably noticed.

For now, she had to maintain the facade of normalcy, pretending everything was fine even as her world seemed to stick to her fingertips.

As the movie progressed, Jimin's attempts to discreetly deal with her sticky hands became increasingly comical. When y/n reached out to grab the remote, Jimin's hand stubbornly clung to it, resulting in a playful tug-of-war between the two.

"Hey, let go!" y/n laughed, trying to pry the remote from Jimin's grasp.

"I-I'm trying!" Jimin protested, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she struggled to release her grip.

After a brief struggle, Jimin finally managed to relinquish her hold on the remote, sending it flying into y/n's waiting hand. But as they resumed watching the movie, y/n couldn't help but notice the lingering stickiness on Jimin's fingers.

"Okay, what's up with your hands?" the younger girl asked, shooting Jimin a curious glance.

Jimin's mind raced as she scrambled for a plausible explanation. "Uh, I was, um, working with superglue earlier," she stammered, hoping her girlfriend would buy her excuse.

"Superglue?" y/n raised an eyebrow. "Why were you using superglue?"

Jimin's face flushed bright red as she searched for an answer. "I, uh, I was building a raccoon trap," she confessed sheepishly, hoping to deflect further questioning.

y/n shook her head in bemusement. "Only you, Jimin," she chuckled, shaking her head in amused disbelief.

Much to Jimin's delight and dismay, y/n reached out to hold hands, seemingly forgetting about Jimin's sticky predicament. Jimin's heart skipped a beat as their fingers intertwined, momentarily forgetting her sticky dilemma in the warmth of y/n's touch.

They stayed like that for a while, holding hands, with y/n's head resting comfortably on Jimin's shoulder. Jimin couldn't help but feel a rush of contentment wash over her as she savored the simple pleasure of being close to y/n.

In a tender moment, Jimin placed a gentle kiss on y/n's forehead, eliciting a soft smile from the other girl as she returned the gesture by pressing a kiss to Jimin's cheek. The affectionate exchange only deepened the bond between them, reaffirming the love they shared.

However, their intimate moment was interrupted when y/n whispered that she needed to use the bathroom and moved to get up.

y/n's attempt to get up was met with unexpected resistance as Jimin's hand remained firmly stuck to hers. With a bewildered expression, y/n turned to Jimin, her eyes wide with confusion. "Jimin, why won't you let go?" she asked, trying to understand the strange situation.

Feeling her heart race, Jimin blurted out the truth without hesitation. "Because I hate spending even a single second away from you," she confessed, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at her candid admission.

y/n's heart melted at Jimin's heartfelt words, and she leaned in to press a tender kiss against Jimin's lips. "You're such a dork," she murmured affectionately, her voice filled with fondness as she whispered against Jimin's lips. "I'll be back soon, I promise."

Determined to break free, y/n made another attempt to get up, only to find herself landing next to Jimin once again as her hand remained glued to her girlfriend's. "Jimin, let me go!" she exclaimed, a mixture of exasperation and amusement in her tone.

____________________

4. Romeo and Juliet?

Jimin carefully approached the window of their dorm room, hoping to slip inside unnoticed. She had just returned from a late-night patrol as Spiderwoman and didn't want to wake y/n. As she reached for the latch, she froze when she heard the sound of water running in the kitchen.

She peeked cautiously through the window and saw y/n filling a glass at the sink. Jimin's heart sank as she realized her attempt to sneak in undetected had been thwarted. She hesitated, debating whether to continue with her plan or come up with a quick excuse if y/n spotted her.

As y/n turned around, she froze, her eyes widening in surprise as she caught sight of Jimin halfway through the window.

"Jimin? What the hell are you doing?" y/n's voice carried a mix of amusement and disbelief as she set the glass down on the counter.

Jimin's cheeks flushed crimson as she struggled to come up with a plausible explanation. "Um… well, you see… a raccoon… ate my keys?" she stammered, her voice betraying her nervousness.

y/n raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. "A raccoon? Really, Jimin?"

Jimin chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of her neck. "Okay, maybe not a raccoon. I, uh, I was actually trying to recreate Romeo and Juliet with you."

y/n burst into laughter, shaking her head in amusement. "You're such a dork, Jimin," she teased, her eyes sparkling with affection.

Despite the embarrassment, Jimin couldn't help but smile at y/n's reaction. "Yeah, I guess I am," she admitted with a sheepish grin. "But hey, at least I'm your dork, right?"

y/n's expression softened, her heart swelling with fondness for her girlfriend. "Yeah, you are," she agreed, moving closer to help Jimin through the window. As they stood face to face, Jimin leaned in, her lips curving into a soft smile.

"Thanks, babe," she murmured, her voice filled with gratitude.

y/n silenced Jimin's words with a gentle kiss, her lips meeting Jimin's in a sweet and tender moment of affection. As they pulled away, a warm glow settled in Jimin's chest, grateful for the love and understanding of her girlfriend.

____________________

5. Don’t break up with me!

Jimin carefully slipped into the dorm room, her heart pounding against her chest. She had hoped to sneak in unnoticed, but luck wasn't on her side. Just as she closed the window behind her, she heard the creak of the door opening. Panic surged through her as she turned to see y/n stepping into the room, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Babe?" y/n's voice was laced with confusion and concern. "What are you doing in that suit?"

Jimin's mind raced, searching for an excuse, but her thoughts were jumbled, and her heart felt like it was about to leap out of her chest. "Um, well, you see... I was just..." she stuttered, her voice trailing off as she struggled to come up with a plausible explanation.

y/n's gaze intensified, her brows furrowing with worry. "Jimin, what's going on? Why are you dressed like that?"

“Please don’t break up with me!” Jimin blurted out in a panic.

“What!?”

Jimin took a step back, her heart sinking as she realized there was no way to hide the truth any longer. "I-I mean, I can explain," she started, her voice trembling slightly. "But first, I need you to promise me that you won't freak out."

y/n's expression softened, her concern deepening. "Jimin, whatever it is, you know you can talk to me, right? I'm here for you."

Jimin felt a surge of gratitude wash over her at y/n's words, but she knew that what she was about to reveal would change everything. Taking a deep breath, she made a split-second decision to trust her girlfriend with the truth.

"I'm Spiderwoman," she blurted out, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've been hiding it from you, but I couldn't keep it a secret any longer."

y/n's eyes widened in shock, her mouth falling open in disbelief. "Spiderwoman?" she repeated, her voice barely a whisper. "But... how? Why?"

Jimin's shoulders slumped as she recounted the events that had led to her becoming the masked hero. She spoke of her desire to make a difference, to help those in need, and the responsibility she felt to use her powers for good.

"I know it's a lot to take in," she said, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "But I needed you to know the truth. I couldn't keep lying to you."

y/n's gaze softened, her eyes brimming with understanding. "Jimin, I may not understand everything right now, but one thing's for sure, I'm here for you. Whatever you need, whatever you're going through, I'll be by your side."

Tears welled up in Jimin's eyes as she stepped forward, enveloping the girl she loved in a tight hug. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "Thank you for being here for me."

As they held each other, Jimin felt a sense of relief wash over her. She had feared that revealing her secret would drive a wedge between them, but instead, it had brought them closer together.

“…You really won’t break up with me, right?”

“Oh my- Jimin!” the younger girl screeched.

“I’m sorry!”

“If I’m being completely honest with you, I like this Spiderwoman thing way better than when I thought you were obsessed with raccoons” y/n said, a pensive look on her face.

Jimin couldn't help but roll her eyes at y/n's comment. "Seriously?" she groaned, playfully nudging her girlfriend.

But before she could protest further, y/n leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Jimin's lips. The warmth of their embrace melted away any lingering tension, and Jimin found herself smiling against y/n's lips.

y/n chuckled, pulling back slightly to meet Jimin's gaze. "Just so you know," she started, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I’ve always thought Spiderwoman was pretty hot."

Jimin grinned, her heart swelling with love for the girl in front of her. "Lucky me," she replied, leaning in to capture y/n's lips in another sweet kiss.

____________________

A/N: Hi, hello! Now, this isn't the story I've been working on, I just haven't finished it, but I didn't want to make you guys wait that much. Sooo I quickly wrote Sticky Situations as a gift. I'll finish the other story and upload it during the week. I also have a Chaewon request to write...

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this one. Thank you for reading! If you want to request something feel free to do it, I'll get to it whenever I have free time.

#aespa imagines #aespa scenarios #aespa x fem reader #karina imagines #karina scenarios #aespa #yu jimin #yu jimin scenarios #yu jimin x reader #aespa fanfic #yoo jimin x reader #yoo jimin #yoo jimin aespa #karina aespa #aespa karina #karina x reader #aespa x reader #yu jimin imagines #aespa fic #aespa fluff

[hunterwritings]

i saw ur post about smartass! and clingy!reader and that would literally be me ldfnakjf so i am now requesting hc's for this <33 ty ily

YESS FEED INTO MY OBSESSION

miguel with a smartass & clingy reader

summary: miguel seems to tolerate you much more than everyone else

warnings: none | wc: 799

notes: literally speed wrote this because I'm obsessed

tags: @heythere525

you were very comfortable around miguel, almost too comfortable

the other spider people saw the way you hung around him and were in shock when you wouldn't get an arm ripped off when pissing him off

but miguel loved you; everyone knew that

you will almost always burst into his space whenever he's trying to do work and ask him the most absurd questions just to annoy him

sometimes it's just to try and engage conversation with him because you knew he couldn't resist giving a witty comeback

"what's your stupid long name for the spider verse again?"

"It's not stupid, it's factually correct." He shakes his head

"Uh-huh, and it's super easy to say. Y'know, you should get little business cards that say, 'I work in the Spider Society to protect the Arachno Humanoid Poly Multiverse.' I'm sure villains' would get a real kick out a' that." You smirk, hanging upside down from a web attached to your foot.

"Y'know, intelligence is supposed to be a common trait among spider people, but I guess it missed you, huh?" He raises an eyebrow and smirks as he turns around to face you hanging upside down.

"So is humor & charm, but I guess they don't like you." You smiled, crossing your arms upside down.

"You're so stupid." He just groans before turning his back to you once again and returning to staring at his holographic screens.

you laugh before pulling yourself up and jumping to land sitting on top of his shoulders, thighs on each side of his head.

"Oh, you love me." You say with a smug as you reach both of your arms down to hold onto his head.

Miguel didn't move or ask you to get off of him, he just accepted it.

normally, you'd just lay your head against his back and wrap your arms around his body as you hug him closely while he does work; he doesn't mind it as long as you don't interfere with his work.

if you're tired or extra clingy, you'll jump up onto his back and wrap your legs around his body and wrap your arms around his neck.

you like to lay your head against his muscular back and hear his heartbeat, it can almost put you to sleep.

if you are tired or falling asleep while on his back, he'll reach his arms down to hold your legs from falling onto the ground

you love talking to miguel, even if most of the time he won't talk back

even though this man doesn't have spider sense, he knows when something is wrong with you

on days when you are upset or something happened, there will be no snarky comment from you or messing with miguel

you just walk in and jump up onto his back and squeeze him tight

when he notices it's you and you're quiet, he already knows something is wrong and is ready to stop everything he's doing to find out what

he hates it whenever you get injured on missions and you continue to make stupid jokes

You groaned out in pain from the metal that pierced your side. "Heh, that armored suit is looking real good right now." You hissed in pain.

Miguel kneeled down next to you and applied pressure to the gauge in your abdomen

"Hey Miguel, I guess it's still better than your suit huh? One wrong malfunction to your suit and you're naked." You laughed.

"Oh my god, you are the stupidest person I know." Miguel shakes his head.

"Ouch, that's hurts more than the wound." You fake being upset and then smirk at him.

"You're literally bleeding out!" Miguel snaps, whispering Spanish curse words under his breath.

Miguel would be lying if he said he didn't like your company

He definitely doesn't watch the tracker on your watch almost everywhere you go if you are even one minute late

let's be honest, miguel is touch starved

once he sees how much of a touchy person you are after getting comfortable with him, he's not a fan of it

at first, he was one to push you away from him and hate the idea of physical affection towards him

it wasn't until one day when you were help fix him up from after a rough fight and you had your hands holding his head in place. Your hand lied on his cheek and he never realized how nice it felt for someone to hold his face so softly. It was the first time you felt him lean into your touch.

Now he he let's you do almost anything you want to him, even with spider people around.

sometimes, he'll even initiate affection when he really needs and you are more than happy to give it to him

#— hunterwritings #hunterwritings #atsv #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel x you #spiderman 2099 #spider verse #across the spider verse #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n

[ckret2]

Headcanon: the frequent failure of Blendin Blandin's equipment—the malfunctioning camouflage suit, the non-functioning memory wipe, the time tape that quickly overheats or gets damaged—isn't because Blendin's a bad agent. He's probably using standard-issue equipment, and he's clearly used to having to make repairs to his equipment in the field.

It's because, under Time Baby's rule, by 207̃012 the quality of most manufactured objects has declined heavily. This is because Time Baby is a baby and hasn't prioritized matters like regulating the quality of consumer goods, so it's a free-for-all. Manufacturers can get away with just about anything. Who's gonna stop them?

"How come Lolph and Dundgren don't have this problem?" Like most dictators, Time Baby's prioritized arming his enforcers over the welfare of his people. Not intentionally; but if a company is manufacturing faulty camo suits, Time Baby never hears about it and there's no one under him who's been given the authority to regulate these things. If a company is manufacturing faulty lasers, the time police can go to Time Baby and go "we didn't catch that guy you hate because we were given broken lasers 😢," and now Space Lasers Inc. has a giant angry psychic baby hovering in their parking lot. It's harder to get away with cutting corners when you don't know which corner will get your whole company disintegrated.

#(somebody make a late stage capitalism pun. I can't think of a good one. late stage timebabyism. see? that's no good) #gravity falls #time baby #headcanons

[impybutt]

Sezak had never seen a leather jacket before. What cause would someone ever have to wear another's skin? It struck him as alarming, to say the least.

Exposure risk wasn't something he or many others ever considered: His people were designed for efficiency, just like the rest of the spacefaring races. Or, that's what he assumed. It's common knowledge, isn't it?

Genome mapping is just the norm, and entire civilisations have been curated from raw materials, Sezak's included. It's far more energy and resource efficient than terraforming, in any case. That's what it takes to reach the stars: curated efficiency.

No one ever did it just by trial-and-error, did they?

But here was Suri, a Human, wearing the skin of... what did she call it? Some other kind of mammal, he forgot the name. Something absurdly simple. Anyway, apparently this is just normal for Humans!

"But why?" Sezak asked, incredulous. "What's the point?"

"Well, these days thanks to climate control and artificial atmosphere, it's mostly a style thing. But you know, early humans back on earth, why would you just leave a perfectly good skin to rot when you could wear it for protection?"

"Protection from what!? Under what circumstance are you finding an unused skin?? Wait-- is this another religious thing? I've heard that Humans have a lot of those, and they don't always make sense from the outside."

Suri looked confused (or constipated? Human faces are deceptively complex, it takes a long time to learn how to read them), and seemed to be studying Sezak for a moment. Her eyes darted over his synthetic clothing briefly, with its cultural flairs and decorative adornments, all carrying the signature texture of replicated matter.

Then, with sudden clarity, "Oh! Humans weren't curated, mostly we're organic."

Well, that's just absurd.

Sezak muffled his involuntary 'kek-kek' with a quick apology, covering his mandibles.

"Pardon me, that means your entire lineage came from raw evolution. That takes billions of years, I find it very unlikely."

"Yeah," Suri was nonplussed. "The leather is a throwback to when our ancestors had to survive in the wild. We hunted our meat, then used what was left for tools and clothing. It's actually a pretty proud part of our history; Earth was habitable, but definitely not easy."

Now it was Sezak's turn to look constipated, which never happened because his people weren't curated with such a terrible design flaw.

"So humans just bumbled their way into space on their own, like a larva figuring out how to fly? All... clumsy and inelegant, and... Messy? Without any outside help? Without any climate-matching!? Is that why you have those absurd suits!?"

"Yeah, it's also why our bodies just malfunction in weird ways for no obvious reason," Suri looked a little too amused at Sezak's undisguised horror - not that Humans are essentially raw nebula mobilised by a star's age of convenient mutations, but that they exist in such a state of volatility with no apparent qualms about it.

"Oh great wells," Sezak breathed, reeling from his new perspective. "So many of you wear leather. Hold on, is that why Vikram is always visiting the health centre?"

Suri's eyes crinkled, and she bared her teeth -- in a laugh, okay. Sezak recognised the 'kek-kek' noise humans make in thrill, though theirs is a more glottal 'hach-hach'.

"Yes, Vikram has auto-immune issues. Which means that sometimes, his immune system will attack his own body depending on the irritant. Or weather. Or his cortisol levels."

Sezak stared at Suri for a long time, trying to figure out if she was pranking him.

"I think I have a lot of reading to do," he muttered, incredulous.

"Start with the human eye, it's an absolute mess. Do you know how little it takes to detach a human retina?"

"WHY ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS"

#hfy #humans are space orcs #sci-fi #writing prompt #prose #short story #this premise has been rattling around in my head for a while #that humans are the only space-faring race without a tailored genome #and all the other aliens are freaked out by it #seriously it takes under 4 minutes for me to get sunburnt #yet somehow my genes have survived

[prokopetz]

I have a pinned post for my games in development, but it doesn't really describe what they're about, and apparently this is something we're doing today, so:

My games in development, in rough order of priority:

(Note: all of these have public playtest drafts behind the links.)

Eat God

A game about weird little anarchist muppets with reality-warping powers themed after classic Looney Tunes gags wandering around a classic sword-and-sorcery fantasy setting stirring up trouble. Roughly 50% character creation rules by volume, with provisions for randomising every part of it; the linked draft, above, includes an online character generator if you want to play with it. The mechanics are a sort of elaborated spiritual successor to Costume Fairy Adventures, a game whose development I headed up about a decade ago.

Current status: actively writing, hopefully zeroing in on a feature-complete playtest draft within the next month or two.

Tiny Frog Wizards

One of my customarily literal titles, this is a game where you play as wizards who are tiny frogs. Features elaborate semi-freeform rules for casting spells, lots of big stupid random tables for when spells go off the rails, and absolutely no mechanics for anything that isn't casting a spell; it's a very focused sort of game. Narratively, it's a game about being an overpowered little twerp sticking your nose into other people's problems and offering solutions no-one asked for. Portions of the rules crib shamelessly from @jennamoran's Nobilis 3rd Edition, for which I offer acknowledgement but no apologies.

Current status: development of the text has been set aside for the moment to work on visual identity, with an eye toward crowdfunding an expanded hardcover edition later in the year.

Space Gerbils

A tactical mecha combat game with a very silly twist: the entirety of the tactical positioning occurs inside the mecha, because the game's premise is basically "what if instead of the Big Reveal at the end of Metroid (1986) being that Samus Aran is secretly a girl, Samus Aran was secretly 3–5 small gerbil-like creatures operating a person-size mech suit?" Players engage in positional jockeying and resource management to determine which stations they're crewing within the suit, which is boiled down to a single roll of the dice to determine what happens outside the suit. Includes papercraft minifigs.

Current status: essentially feature-complete, apart from some character creation options and a planned random mission generator; this will likely be the next game I crowdfund after Tiny Frog Wizards.

Indie RPG Prompt Generator [working title]

Essentially a joke that got out of hand, this is a big set of random tables of common indie RPG tropes that you can roll on to generate a description of a hypothetical game, complete with specific rules toys and setting beats. I probably could have finished this up already, but I decided to include examples of each rolled element, which turned into this big hairy research project I'm not able to give adequate attention to right now. If you've got a game of your own that you think would be a good fit for a presently unfilled example slot, please, let me know!

Current status: plugging away at it in bits and pieces as I'm able.

Three Raccoons in a Trenchcoat

This is an anthology consisting of three minigames: the eponymous Three Raccoons in a Trenchcoat, which is self-explanatory; Unfamiliar, in which you play as uncooperative wizards' familiars; and System Crash, in which you play as malfunctioning robots. More a series of formal experiments in character creation and group composition than proper full-featured games, all share the same core mechanics, with milieu-specific addons of varying practicality; for example, System Crash has specific rules for which senses each player is allowed to use when asking the GM for information, because it's completely possible to have a group in which only one of the robots can see. Large portions of Unfamiliar were later re-used in Eat God, above.

Current status: I have a list of notes as long as your arm on planned changes to integrate into the text, and I'm confident I'll get around to doing so one of these years.

Gone to Hell

Literally a Doom (2016) pastiche as a Belonging Outside Belonging game, which is just as silly an idea as it sounds; grown out of an earlier 24-hour RPG called Doomguy. The central conceit is that there's only a single player character, with players taking turns assuming the role of the Slayer, while everyone else takes ownership of the various hostile factions comprising the game's conspiratorial twelve-car pileup of a plot. Lots of pontificating about the implicit power structures of tabletop RPG groups. This one probably needs a full rewrite in order to lend a bit more formal structure to the "one player character, many GMs" conceit than out-of-the-box BOB offers.

Current status: I have not looked at this game in three years, which is actually a really long time for me.

Rotate Bird

Another of my "is this a formal experiment or a real game" titles, this one revolves around constructing characters out of abstract symbols, which are interpreted during play to retroactively define what your character is actually capable of doing. Even the title seen above is an interpretive approximation; strictly speaking, the game is called 🔄🐦. Possibly the most shitposty game I've ever written, which is saying something, but based on playtest feedback it seems functional.

Current status: the only reason this is listed as lower in priority than Gone to Hell is because I genuinely don't know what to do with it. It's probably publishable, with some cleanup editing and graphic design, but it feels like there's something missing. I'm open to suggestions!

Get in the Fucking Robot

A pamphlet-size, competitive, GMless title that's at least as much a board game as it is a tabletop RPG, this one is about a bunch of dysfunctional candidate mecha pilots competing to be the first to pilot the titular giant robot. The game is played under misère conditions: while each character's IC goal is to pilot the robot, each player's OOC goal is to avoid that fate, with the player whose character actually Gets in the Fucking Robot being accounted the loser.

Current status: playtesting suggests the current framework of play doesn't actually work – like, at all – so this one needs to go all the way back to the drawing board; I don't feel like doing that any time soon, which puts it squarely at the bottom of the list.

#gaming #tabletop roleplaying #tabletop rps #game design #wips #swearing

[fashion4standusers]

FFSU’s Fan Fashion Week!

*ETA: Works posted to AO3 can be tagged as "FFSU Fashion Week"!*

I’ve had the concept for this in my head for AGES but never got around to posting it. I originally planned to run it as an event during a certain time period, but I found that making it an event intimidated me out of actually making the idea happen. I just think that I’m a lot more confident in my ideas when I don’t overthink it! Therefore, instead of running an event, I’m just putting this challenge out into the atmosphere for people to take it and run with it. 

REBLOGS GREATLY APPRECIATED!

Everything you need to know is in the graphics, and here’s a plain text version as well:

Fashion For Stand Users’ Fan Fashion Week Challenge: a 7-day art and/or fic-writing challenge!

Art Prompts:

- Day 1: Runway

Draw your chosen character(s) in an outfit from a designer runway! Check the blog archive or Vogue Runway for references and modify the look however you want.

-Day 2: Subculture

Draw your chosen character(s) in the fashion of a certain subculture: goth, raver, scene kid, etc.

-Day 3: Style Swap

Draw two or more characters swapping their canon outfits, or simply wearing outfits more suited for the other person's vibe and aesthetic.

-Day 4: Historical

Draw your chosen character(s) in the fashion of another era.

-Day 5: Redesign

Redesign, reinvent, or modify the canon outfit(s) of your chosen character(s). 

-Day 6: Formal

Draw your chosen character(s) in gowns, tuxedos, and other fancy clothes. 

-Day 7: Free Space

Draw any kind of outfit(s) you'd like for your chosen character(s)!

Writing Prompts:

- Day 1: Character Study

Write about why a character dresses or looks the way they do. Why do they like the clothes they wear? Do they wear something with personal significance? How do they want the world to see them?

-Day 2: Makeover

Write about a character getting a makeover from another. Are they getting new clothes, a new hairstyle, new makeup? Is it just for fun or a sign of a bigger change?

-Day 3: AU

Write about an alternate universe where the characters are models, fashion designers, hairstylists, makeup artists, etc.

-Day 4: Disaster

Write about something going horribly, horribly wrong: wardrobe malfunctions, makeup mishaps, over/underdressing, etc.

-Day 5: Shopping Trip

Write about characters going shopping together and all the shenanigans that ensue.

-Day 6: The Event

Write about a character getting ready for  or attending an upscale event. Who are they going with? What are they wearing? How are they feeling?

-Day 7: Free Space

Write about any scenario you'd like, as long as it's about clothing or fashion!

Rules:

Have Fun!

This is obviously a JJBA blog, but feel free to use this challenge for OCs and other fandoms! If you plan to modify the prompts, make different graphics, or make your own version of the challenge for a different fandom, be sure to credit this blog or link back to this post!

Mention @fashion4standusers in all your posts to give credit! You can also tag your posts with #ffsufashionweek, and if your work is about JoJo, I would love to share it on the blog. If you post outside of Tumblr, include a link to this post!

Don't think you can do it in a week? Want more time to write longer fics, make more detailed art, or just develop your idea more? No worries, just work at your own pace! The concept of the challenge is a reference to the various Fashion Weeks that happen around the world, but by no means is it restricted to any real time frame!

Only want to write or draw for a few of the prompts? Maybe only one? Wanna work out of order? Go ahead! This is a challenge of course, but if you just aren't connecting with some of the prompts, don't force it!

Feel free to use the ideas you come up with for this into more in-depth works!

It's never too early or too late to give it a shot, and I'll always keep an eye on tags and mentions for new additions!

#ffsufashionweek #jjba #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #jjba fanfic

[blond-jerk-tourney]

Strawberry Bracket: Bracket Finals

Propaganda from submitters Under Cut

Nanami Kiryuu

She's the mean girl of the show, and a pretty interesting take on the "bitchy vain school rival of the protagonist" trope. She spends most of her early screentime being a bully and most of her later screentime being both the biggest loser imaginable and deeply sad/troubled (which still does not erase how much of an asshole she can be). She even laughs like your stereotypical mean rich girl. Nanami has so many problems and sucks so so bad. I adore her.

Shes a psychotic bully who seeks to ruin the lives and reputations of any girl who gets more of her brothers attention than she does. Reasons Nanami Kiryuu deserves to win: - she has made many attempts at physical and psychological terrorism against Anthy Himemiya (including a plotted wardrobe malfunction at a crowded social gathering) simply for drawing more of her brother's attention than her - tried to fill Anthy's bedroom with wild animals (a snail, a snake, and a live octopus) to make her out to be a freak only to find that her room was already full of wild animals - she bankrolled an elementary schoolers crush on her to turn him into her personal boyservant - briefly non-personed a member of her bully entourage for sharing an umbrella with her brother - received a luxury cowbell due to a shipping error and smugly wore it to school for weeks flaunting it like high coture - when her bully entourage rebelled against her due to her brothers manipulation she brought them back in line by just straight up beating the shit out of all of them - all in all just a petty, goonish motherfucker (she also does the ohohohohoho anime girl laugh)

she's blond: despite being Japanese her hair is yellow, unlike her brother's. yellow is even her image color. she's a jerk: introduced as a jealous and dishonest scheming bully, she is one of the more outwardly antagonistic characters in a cast where pretty much everyone is a Real Piece Of Work she's the best: the quintessential ohoho-laughing ojou, her fully-realized character arc makes people both laugh and cry even her sidekick is a blond jerk! how many blond jerks have their own blond jerk sidekick?

i don't know what you've heard but she's NOT the kind of girl who lays eggs!

The token mean rich girl of the franchise. Does the classic "ohohoho" laugh. Doesn't like either of our main characters. She never actually seems to get her way, and secretly has a lot of her own problems. also she lays eggs and turns into a cow

Absolutely THE quintessential anime mean girl. I mean literally her laughing is THE meme for the hohohoho anime laugh. Needs attention So Badly and straight up bullies anyone she deems a threat to that (so basically Everyone). I haven’t finished RGU but apparently she duels with the intent to kill and drowned a kitten once because it was taking up too much of her brother’s attention? Also she’s 13 which explains a lot

Char Aznable

He's extremely blonde and he's a total asshole. he has had a gay thing with 2 people and tried to kill both of them. he makes a new identity and its arguably more blonde and more of an asshole. look up Quattro Bajeena

Snooty little motherfucker supreme. "I have never betrayed anyone in my life" says man who spent his whole career lying to people. He's in love with his rival and he won't admit it. He's my silly rabbit. He is the "I came here to laugh at you" guy

Char is an environmental terrorist who dropped space colonies of people living in space onto earth so people would leave earth for the earth to heal from human damage. He's a prince that should have been assassinated seducing the new prince while undercover to kill the family that killed his family. Anyway vote for Char. He stole the name Char from some other guy from space Texas who he caused the death of

Excuse me that's not char aznable that's quattro bajeena, why would you ever confuse the two :/

#strawberry bracket #strawberry bracket finals #polls #tournament polls #nanami kiryuu #rgu #revolutionary girl utena #char aznable #quattro bajeena #mobile suit gundam #blond jerk tournament

[littlecrittereli]

Krattnapped au? Krattnapped au? Evil chris against his will?? Oh hoho I am INTRIGUED

I am sitting in front of you staring directly into your eyes with the chin resting on my hands and I desire more information if you have it 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

I FINALLY HAVE A NAME....

REPROGRAMMED AU!!! (because he... reprograms the cps) (im super creative I know)

So I'm kind of using a couple headcanons in order to make the logistics of this AU work. So I'll explain them real quick!

The CPS were made specifically to the biometrics of Martin and Chris and are too unstable to be used by anyone else. We see Koki and Aviva wear the bro's suits a couple times in the show, but it's usually only for emergencies and for only a few minutes. Aviva refers to the suits as prototypes, and Martin and Chris are kinda the test dummies. They are programmed this way to help the suit work better, and also to keep them out of evil hands. Martin and Chris also had to undergo some serious tests and special training in order to be able to operate the suits. (Kinda like how Astronauts have to go through special courses before they go to space!)

The CPS are not meant to be operated for long periods of time. The suits are practically transforming their bodies, giving them new senses, and changing their instincts. This process becomes physically taxing on the body. It's not enough to be noticable from a standard creature adventure, but if the suit is activated for 12+ hours it can start to have negative consequences on the operator. Rapidly activating the suit, or reactivating it numerous times in one day can have the same effect. It's dangerous to not take breaks in-between usages.

The way this reprogrammed CPS will operate is a tad different from Aviva's design (as it was altered by Zach), which makes it extra unstable, and prone to malfunctions. The Villain doesn't really care that much because he's not the one wearing the suit, and just wants it to function more conveniently for his schemes, not Chris' wellbeing.

The biggest alter that was made to the suit is Chris does not need power discs or a DNA sample to activate the suit. The programming is relying on ghost activations of animals he has already collected DNA samples of. (meaning he can't access any new suits, only ones that he's already used before). Pairing Zach's alterations with Donita's pose-beam technology, gives this new Villain complete control of the suit's actions. Since the suit is more unstable, animal instinct kinda takes over whenever it's activated so Chris can't always remember what's happened while he was operating the suit.

#WK Reprogrammed AU #Reprogrammed AU #wild kratts #chris kratt #martin kratt #littlecrittereli #Wild Kratts Headcanon #Wild Kratts AU #kratt brothers #THANKS FOR THE ASK AND LETTING ME INFO DUMP BTW #I JUST OUGGGHHHHHH IM SO INSANE

[ips-northstar-official]

So, I know you're all more in the *space* ship business but I was poking around the various corpos and wondering if you had anything suited to aquatic commando activites, normally for stealth I would consider SSC but I've found the biotic components in their mechs are prone to malfunctioning in super deep cold waters, and since rugged reliability is your whole thing I thought you'd have some good stuff. - Vencel "Strange Cargo" Crewson

Hello Strange Cargo!

You’re in luck! As our base of operations is located on Carina, an ocean planet with occasionally very tumultuous conditions, we happen to be experts on aquatic operations.

All of our mechs come standard with our patented ALS/20 “Red October” Anti-leak system, which consists of a series of redundant seals and reinforcements which help to keep you dry and not crushed while you work!

We also sell the ALS/15 “Seawolf” for easy integration with other manufacturers’ mechs, and the ALS/35 “Mariana” for pressures in excess of 500 atm.

#lancer rpg #lancerrpg

[inneedofsupervision]

No Spilling Secrets

Spiderman/Avengers fanfic: Lee Peter / Ler Clint, Sam & Bucky

I kinda live for the idea of there being a thin line of Peter being a genius and a clumsy baby. This is probably the siliest fanfic I've ever written, but I wanted it to be less sober. Please let me know what you think.

Summary: It was supposed to be a chill and fun Tuesday afternoon, testing the new web-shooters. Well, until Peter found himself pulling the dumbest stunt of his sixteen-year short life apart from getting bitten by a radioactive spider.

Read on Ao3

"Friday, what are the risks of this blowing up on me?"

"The risks of the web shooters malfunctioning sits at 27%, Peter."

Peter carries a smug grin as he fastens the devices around his wrists, waiting for the click that tells him they are locked in place.

"Good thing 27 is my lucky number."

"Mr. Stark said to wait until he is back from his meeting-"

"Friday, come on," interrupts Peter with a whine. "I'm Spiderman. I use them every day. I'll have it under control, promise."

There is a short silence before Friday answers, sounding as unpleased as an AI can sound. "Mr. Stark will be informed as soon as you're safety is not warranted, Peter."

"Thank you, Friday! Couldn't ask for more," answers Peter with a bright grin. He had waited all day to test the new web shooters, annoying MJ as he wouldn't stop talking about it with Ned at lunch. He also didn't bother throwing the suit on, coming directly from the lab to the training grounds. As soon as the doors close behind him, Peter doesn't waste more time and jogs over to the wall that lies on the opposite. A few meters before reaching it, he speeds up and jumps. He crawls upwards with skilled movements. 

"Let's see how these babies work."

With those words, Peter pushes himself from the wall and lets his arm shoot forward. A string of spiderwebs flings against one of the ceiling beams, hitting it with scary accuracy. Peter's fingers close around the web, and he uses the momentum to swing through the air. He lands with practiced ease on the ceiling beam at the other end of the gym, glancing down at his wrists with a thoughtful look. "The tensile strength is not bad, but I thought the elasticity would be better. Friday, can you please note that I have to look into that?"

"Noted, Peter."

"Thanks, Fri."

He continues testing the limits of the new webs by swinging around and jumping from high places to get a feeling for the strings' consistency, leaving it to Friday to take notes as he voices out his thoughts. Peter was about to climb down, satisfied with the information he had collected when something caught his eye. He squints at the ceiling near the bracing where the beam he stands on mends into the roof.

"Is that an arrow?"

As he steps closer, his suspicion is confirmed. The thing hanging from the ceiling is indeed one of Hawkeye's arrows. "How does no one notice that thing is still here?", wonders the teen loudly. It wasn't like Clint to leave his stuff lying around. Or, stuck in the ceiling in this case. 

He stood on his tiptoes and reached for the shaft of the arrow, his inhuman sense of balance the only measure to keep the teen from tumbling down and breaking his neck. 

"I recommend being careful, Peter. Those are one of Mr. Barton's new smoke-"

Peter didn't get the last few words as his fingers closed around the arrow, a winning grin growing as he gave the weapon a strong pull. The second his spidey sense goes off, he already holds one part of the arrow in his hands and stumbles when the air around him fills with a thick smock. He trips backward, trying hastily to get out of the space that fills with murky haze. Standing on nothing more than a two-inch wide metal pole, his next step back ends with his foot hitting nothing but thin air. With a surprised shout ripping from his mouth, the boy fell backward. Peter's arms flail around uselessly. In his panic, he blindly shoots a web upwards with both web shooters, praying that one of them would hit to keep him from busting his head. Both strings succeeded at sticking but in the most inconvenient way possible. In the chaos of the situation, Peter's aim had been off, causing the webs to ravel together as they lay diagonally on top of each other, sticking together as soon as they came in contact. Peter feels sick as the movement of his fall causes him to circle around like a spinning top, putting the ability of his stomach to keep his lunch to the test. 

He ended up coming to a halt a few centimeters over the ground, dangling just above the floor, and although he knew his injuries would have healed quickly, he was more than happy to not have hit the ground, because that fall would have hurt like a bitch. To his luck, he had grabbed the web quick enough to avoid popping a shoulder, but with the newly developed webbing being more sticky and drying later than anticipated, he found himself stuck with bound wrists.

Peter's mouth stands open as he openly gapes, blinking a couple of times as the last few seconds start closing up on him before a low whine emits from the depths of his throat, heat rushing into his face.

"Holy frick. That was one of the most embarrassing things to ever happen to me."

"Should I inform Mr. Stark?"

"Oh my God, are you nuts- ehm, I mean, no. Please don't. That's- that is really not necessary, Fri."

"If you say so, Peter."

He glances up at his wrists, assessing the situation. The web was enclosing his wrists completely, only his fingers sticking out of the gooey mess that hangs over his head. There was a solvent inside the web shooters, but he couldn't reach the trigger to spray it, a thick layer of web fluid lying on top. Peter puffs his cheeks before putting all his strength into his arms, trying to bust through the net. His face grew red with the force he put into his arms only to sack together in defeat. 

Maybe the new webs are a tiny bit stronger than anticipated. Spiderman usually had no problem ripping his webs up, but dangling in the air and having his wrists bound at an awkward angle, Peter had a difficul time concentrating enough power to push through the strings. Peter throws a longing look at his backpack. If he could only get his hands on it. He always had a small amount of solvent in there for emergencies. 

Peter lets out a sigh. 

He needs help.

But not from Mr. Stark. Anyone but Mr. Stark. He wasn't ready for that level of embarrassment to hit on a simple Tuesday afternoon.

"Friday, can you ask Bruce if he has some time?"

"Dr. Banner is currently not in the tower. Would you like me to call him?"

"No, no thanks. What about Natasha?"

"Ms. Romanoff is currently not available."

Okay, now Peter realizes he does have a bit of a problem. While glancing up at his hands and testing again but without success the hold on his wrists, he contemplates how he could get out of this situation. Maybe if he manages to swing his feet upwards and wrap his legs around the string, he might manage to climb back up.

"Wow, how did the spider end up caught in his own web?"

Peter's eyes dart to the person who stands leaning relaxed at the doorframe of the gym, eyebrows raised in silent amusement.

"Clint, can you please help me?"

There was a fifty percent chance to get out of this unharmed if Peter played it right. He puts on the most hopeful and pitiful expression he can muster, silently begging the archer to show mercy. The corner of Clint's lip curls into a smirk that leaves Peter wondering if he did wrong in asking Clint to help out everyone. Not that he had much variety to choose from. 

"Those are some cute puppy dog eyes you've got there, kid," comments the man as he walks over to Peter. "Any idea how to get you out?"

"There is some solvent in my backpack."

Clint turns and collects the bag. He pulls it open and roams through it while stepping back to Peter.

"How did you even end up like that?" the archer asks before pulling a small vial from the back and showing it to the dangling teen, who nods in confirmation. At the question, Peter pulls a grimace.

"I'd rather not talk about it."

Clint looks up from the vial, a spark of interest glinting in his eyes. Catching on Clint's expression, Peter feels dread settling into the pit of his stomach. That had been the wrong answer. 

"You don't want to talk about it?" asks Clint, and Peter keeps himself from whining as he watches the man putting the backpack down instead of helping him get the web off. The archer levels him with a knowing smirk, slipping the vial into his back pocket before crossing his arms over his chest. Peter knew that expression. He was 50% fucked.

"Care to explain what you mean by that?"

Peter didn't like how Clint's smile grew into a shit-eating grin as he tried pulling out an acceptable answer without adding fuel to the fire.

 

"Ehm, it's not that interesting, really. I wouldn't want to bother you with that story."

"I bet it was embarrassing," cuts Clint off, shifting his weight onto his right leg as he leans back, not looking like he's planning to help Peter anytime soon.

"Like I said, I'd rather not talk about it," mumbles Peter, avoiding the man's eyes. How the heck is he supposed to get out of this?

Clint was clearly enjoying this.

"I'll help you if you tell me what happened."

Yeah, no. Peter won't serve Clint high-class premium blackmail material of himself on a silver plate, thank you very much. Sensing the teen wouldn't spill, Clint let his hands fall as he stepped towards the teen, grin growing mischievous in a way that left the hairs on Peter's neck turn straight. 

"Peter, I'm a trained spy and assassin. I have ways to make people talk. Now, do you want to tell me how you ended up like this?"

Peter knew Clint wouldn't hurt him, but the threat of what was about to come sent a shiver down his spine. 

"Threatening teenagers now? That's low even for you, Barton," says Peter and tries to play the awful nervousness that spreads inside of him off, but Clint's trained eyes could read his unease like an open book. There was a reason Peter wears a mask when he fights. He sucks at keeping a straight face.

Clint chuckles before giving Peter a light push to the chest. The teen bites his lips as the spy's move acts like a reminder of the situation he's currently in, swinging helplessly back and forth, feet still hovering inches over the gym floor. His swinging stops with Clint grabbing the front of his shirt, keeping him from moving and simultaneously pulling him closer, bringing his mouth near his ear.

 

"Spill, little Spider," he whispers with a mock-threatening voice, but that was still enough to make Peter feel more than slightly on the edge. But he wouldn't back down now, not when the last shreds of his dignity are at stake. 

"Over my dead body."

"Oh, Petey-pie," taunts Clint as he lets go of Peter's shirt, causing the teen to swing back. "I'll make you talk. Just you wait."

Peter eyes the man warily, who stretches his hand out, pressing it flat against his stretched-out midriff. He is left with no time to wonder what the archer was playing at when the fingers of the hand twitch suddenly, digging lightly into the flesh of his stomach. The movement makes him flinch violently, not expecting the ticklish spark shooting through his middle. His eyes dart up, ready to tell Clint to take his hand from him when he catches the man's expression. 

He gulps.

Clint's face splits into an evil grin, and it dawns on Peter that the twitch of Clint's hand had not been an accident. 

"What's gotten you so squirmy, Peter? You don't happen to be ticklish, do you?"

Flipping hell.

Clint knew exactly, how ticklish Peter was. 

"That would be severely inconvenient, wouldn't it? You seem rather helpless right now."

Every muscle in the teen's body tenses at the words as his eyes are glued on Clint's hands that reach out for his sides. 

"You can make this stop whenever you're ready," suggests Clint with the same shit-eating grin as before, hands around Peter's sides, ready to squeeze. Peter bites his lip to keep the tale-telling smile that threatens to slip onto his face in place. He could already feel Clint's fingers on his skin, knowing all too well what was about to come, and the anticipation was killing him. Clint seemed to know that too, the amused glint in his eyes making it harder for Peter to keep a straight face. 

To Clint's credit, the spy gave him a few moments to change his mind before he started his attack. 

The teen flinches as two hands tweak at his sides experimentally. A ticklish jolt ran through his whole body, and the muscles of his arms tensed up on instinct, but it didn't help make the squeezing that followed less ticklish. 

"Are we trying to play tough?" teases Clint as he searches Peter's face for reactions, the latter biting his lips to keep from making noise. The chances of Clint stopping were low, but Peter's only hope was that the archer would get bored if he didn't break and let him go. 

"Oh, Pete, you sure you want to do this? We both know how to get you to talk. All it takes is a little bit of this."

Peter didn't have time to wonder what kind of evil scheme the archer was planning. Even though his spidey sense warned him of something approaching, Peter couldn't do much in his current position but flinch like he got electroshocked when ten fingers unceremoniously dug into his rips. His facade crumbles instantly, loud laughter rolling from his lips as he flails around, trying to pull himself away from the wriggling diggets.

"Clihihhihihnt nohohohoh!" protests the teen through a wave of giggles before collapsing into himself when Clint claws at his stomach, vibrating his fingers into the sensitive area and sending the teen into a fit. 

"Clint, yes!", teases Clint, mimicking Peter's high-pitched voice, grinning at the teen squirming helplessly under his tickling fingers. 

"I didn't know our training included Spiderman."

Peter thanks whoever for getting a moment to suck in some oxygen when Clint lets up from him to glance over his shoulder. 

"Oh, it doesn't. But I think training can wait. I have found something better than that."

"Something better than handing Sam his ass? I'm in."

Peter's head snaps up at the voices of the two newcomers. Peeking over Clint's shoulders, he catches sight of Sam and Bucky, clad in their training equipment, walking into the gym. His eyes fall back onto Clint, whose grin resembles a Cheshire cat when he sees Peter's expression and realizes who just joined them. 

Now he was 1001% fucked. 

Peter gulps when Bucky and Sam stand next to Clint, carrying similar amused but confused stricken expressions.

"Hell, how did you end up like that?" asks Sam, looking up at the string that keeps Peter in place. Clint pats him on the shoulder, shaking his head as if Peter were a lost cause.

"Don't try asking him. It seems there is some hot tea about how Pete-Pie ended up like this. Must be one hella funny story, but the squirt won't spill."

Sam snorts at Clint's words, eyeing the pitiful teen with a grin. The annoying bird-man found his predicament amusing and didn't even try to hide it.

"So you decided to torment him?"

Clint shrugs his shoulders as if the answer to that is obvious. Bucky crosses his arms, both metal and flesh bulging under his shirt at the movement as he gives a thoughtful look but not less amused than Sam. 

"Why didn't you ask Friday if there is a video recording of it?"

At those words, Peter's eyes went wide. His reaction doesn't go unnoticed, and Clint's eyes sparkle at the realization that Bucky just found the answer. 

Oh, hell no, he won't let that happen. 

Before the spy can step into action, Peter all but shouts at the ceiling. 

"Friday, activate protocol FTE-5!"

He waits with bated breath before Friday's voice echoes through the gym.

"Protocol FTE-5 is now activated."

The teen sags into himself in relief, chin leaning down onto his chest. That had been way too close for his liking. A finger pushes against his middle, making him flinch before looking up and into Sam's face, who looks down at him with a raised eyebrow. 

"Hey now, what did you just do, kid?"

Sam squints at him. 

"Nothing," Peter replies quickly, pointedly avoiding eye contact with the man. Clint eyes the teen hanging in front of him suspiciously. Peter didn't like the look he was receiving.

"Friday, is there a recording of what happened before I came in?" he asks without taking his eyes off Peter's face, the latter acting as if his shoelaces were the most fascinating thing he had seen all day. 

"I am sorry Mr. Barton. I am not able to answer that question."

Bucky tilts his head. He glances at the teen, the latter focusing his eyes everywhere but at one of the three men.

 

"You did this."

Peter shakes his head, picture-perfect innocence written over his face. 

"I don't know what you are talking about."

Clint's expression turns sour. 

"Friday, what did Peter do fifteen minutes before?"

"I'm sorry Mr. Barton, that is classified information."

The three men stare at Peter with various degrees of bewilderment and amazement. 

"You manipulated Friday? Is that what that protocol was about? Does Stark know about this?"

Peter didn't like how clammy his hands felt at the moment. 

"I don't know what you mean. Friday sounds alright to me," answers Peter, voice a pitch higher than usual. 

Sam scoffs and throws his hands up, mumbling something about kids and the Internet these days while Bucky studies the nervous teen. 

"What is protocol FTE-5, Peter?"

Peter presses his lips into a tight line, not going to lose a single word about it. He would take that information to his grave.

Protocol FTE-5 is the result of him spending more than half of his time with the Avengers, worst of all, Tony Stark. He should probably mention that he loved working together, but there was only so much teasing a sixteen-year-old could take from his literal idol before he combusts. Tony had developed the habit of using Friday to enjoy himself on Peter's behalf. He let the AI record some of Peter's embarrassing moments in the lab or during their fights and play them whenever Peter was too annoying. At first, it had been funny, but after some time, Peter realized with shock that he did a lot of dumb stuff that shouldn't, under any circumstances, be presented to a broader audience, and with that, he means anyone other than Mr. Stark. To avoid getting killed by finding a way for the ground to swallow him whole after embarrassing himself again, Peter decided to take matters into his own hands. Thus, Protocoll FTE-5 was born.

 

"You know I like you, Peter, but that's dramatic even for you. Hacking into Friday and putting in a protocol to delete every recording Friday did of you in the last thirty minutes? Isn't that a major safety threat?" had asked Ned during one of their decathlon meetings, words whispered behind his hand.

"You don't understand, Ned. I'll die if things continue like this!" Peter had been nothing but serious about the matter. Getting reminded by Tony through video clips of himself that he kind off blew up the lab three times in one week was stressing him out more than he liked to admit, even though he knew Tony was only poking fun at him and not mad.

 

Ned had given him a skeptical look before he glanced around to make sure no one was listening to their conversation.

"What does FTE even stand for?"

Peter had given him his most serious expression.

"FTE - Fuck, that's embarrassing."

He had to admit, Ned's disappointed look kinda hurt his pride. He thought the name was good. 

"That name is embarrassing. You are acting like a baby, Parker."

MJ had stood behind the two and rolled her eyes before throwing a ball of paper against his head to get his attention back into the meeting, leaving him with a beet-red face and his head in his hands. Ned had leaned over, poking his head with a pen to see if his friend was still alive.

"The name fits. That was really embarrassing."

Peter had wanted to die.

So, no, he wouldn't talk about it. Ever. Nothing could bring him to spill.

"We are back to not talking again? Well, tough luck, Parker. While I'm capable of mercy, I know someone who doesn't register that word in his dictionary." Clint tilted his head towards Bucky, who was sporting a menacing grin on his face. 

Okay, Peter, don't let them intimidate you. They will let up if things get boring. At least, that is what he tries to tell himself as he holds his chin high, leveling Barton with a challenging smile. 

"You're saying Bucky is illiterate?"

Sam honest to god, snorts at Peter's words and claps a hand onto Bucky's shoulder as he bends over, laughing into his fist. Although the joke is on Bucky, the ex-assassin's composure slips ever so slightly as a twitch of his lips upwards shows he was just as amused as Sam. 

Clint, on the other hand, is for once lost for words. It doesn't happen often, but Peter just managed to leave the quickwitted spy flustered.

"I did not-, Bucky's is not-, oh, you know what, you'll regret that, kid."

Maybe sassing at Clint while dangling with bound wrists from the ceiling hadn't been his wisest idea. A nervous smile wound a way on Peter's face when Clint stalks over with a scowl, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows.

 

"Hey, how about we talk this out? Clint, please?"

If looks could kill, Peter would have died three seconds ago. Clint's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Oh, we will talk. After I'm done with you."

Oh my god, now he was utterly fucked. Like, absolutely inevitably fucked. 

"You don't have to do this Clint, serious-NOHOHOHOHOHO!"

Peter violently pulls at the string holding him in place, a scream ripping from his mouth before a burst of hysterical laughter fills the entire gym. Fueled by the strong reaction, Clint continues digging his thumbs into Peter's exposed armpits.

 

"CLIHIHIHIHINT! PLEAHAHASE STAHAHAHAHAP!"

"What's wrong, Peter? Where is all of that sass now?" mocks the archer before he changes from using only his thumbs to all of his fingers to scratch and scribble along the sensitive pits, earning him a shriek and lots of bucking as Peter desperately tries to do anything to get the fingers away from his skin. Oh my god, it tickled so bad Peter thinks he's growing mad. The fingers dig into all his worst spots with deadly precision, rendering him into a squealing and widely kicking mess in mere seconds. 

"Seeing this with my own eyes, I would almost conclude that he's ticklish," heard Peter Sam say over the sound of his laughter. 

"What makes you think so?" asks Bucky with feigned surprise as the two just stand there, observing how Clint absolutely wrecks Peter. Peter doesn't know why their casual teasing causes him to grow even more embarrassed than he already was, but he feels his already reddened face heat up even more. 

"Clint, I think you should let Mr. Tomato over here breathe. The kid looks like he's about to burst."

To his immense relief, the fingers retreated shortly after Sam's comment, giving Peter time to suck in precious air. He was panting, arms aching from straining himself in the unfavorable position. When his breathing calmed down and he didn't feel like his heart was about to burst from his chest, Peter dared to glance up. Nervousness washes over him as he realizes that the three men had been watching him collect himself.

"So Spidey, you think you can last against three Avengers?" asks Sam as he steps closer, a predatory grin on his face. The hair on his arms and neck stands up when Bucky starts moving. The taller man walks around him until he stands out of his vision, but Peter can feel him hovering over him from behind, and the knowledge does nothing but send his senses on edge. 

"Are you ready to talk yet, Peter? If not, you don't see it, but Bucky here is ready to get into interrogation mode," informs Sam with a sadistic glee in his eyes. As on command, a pair of hands come into view, hovering just above his stomach, and Peter bites his lips, trying to keep the smile down that's forcing its way on his face. The hands begin to inch closer, barely hovering over his tummy, and Peter sucks his stomach in, trying hard to keep it together. When the hands shot forward, fingers wriggling tauntingly but not actually touching him, Peter's resolution breaks. He is immensely embarrassed by how quickly he crumbles.

"Get awahahahahy from mehehe!" squeezes Peter out between his panicked laughter. Clint grins in amusement, watching the squirming teen from the sidelines, giving Sam and Bucky a chance to have their fun but not leaving a moment to poke fun at Peter. 

"He hasn't even started, kid. You won't last a minute, but you can make him stop now. You simply have to spill your dirty little secrets."

The three men wait, but Peter stubbornly shakes his head, not giving in.

"Well, we tried it the easy way. Bucky, go on."

Clint grins at the way the kid's eyes grow wide as the hands start coming into contact with his middle, and begins ruthlessly tickling him. 

"NAhahahah BUHUHUHUCKY DOHOHON'T!"

He throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut tightly as an assault of ticklish sparks shout right from the place Bucky's fingers dig into his skin into his brain, leaving him in stitches. 

"Let's take this up a notch." Sam grins and walks over to the screeching teen, ready to join the party. Peter's eyes shoot open as he feels a second pair of hands beginning to tickle him, seizing his hips and giving them a quick succession of well-timed squeezes. The feeling of four hands tormenting him became unbearable quickly. Peter's body acts on its own when he tensed his arms and pulled his feet up towards his chest. Before Sam could register what was happening, a pair of thin but strong legs closed around him, catching and trapping his arms against his waist and rendering him immobile.

 

"How did you manage that?" asks Bucky from behind Peter with amusement as he catches Sam's predicament.

"Come on, Peter. Let Sam go. You should stick to catching bank robbers or flies and not birds."

"Thehehere are spidehehrs thahahat cahahtch bihihirds!"

"Alright, nerd," teased Bucky and rolled his eyes before he claws with his right hand into Peter's ribcage while the other scratches teasingly into his exposed armpit. 

"No, no, no, Buhuhuck, pleahahase dohohn't!"

"Let him go, and I'll stop," he suggests, tone playful.

"Youhu're lyhyhying!"

"Oh, how did you know?" asks Bucky, smirking and kneading into the kid's lean sides, earning more trashing and shrieking.

"Bucky, stop tickling him for a moment. I think he's going to break my spine at this point."

Sam pulls a grimace as Peter's legs squeeze tighter around his middle with every second. 

"I think I can help with that."

Clint approaches the man, glancing over Sam's shoulder at Peter. 

"Peter, let go of Sam."

Peter shakes his head violently, not thinking about giving Sam another chance to attack him.

Clint lets out a sigh before shrugging his shoulders. 

"You leave me no other choice, kid."

Clint stands behind Sam and glances down where Peter's legs close around the man's midriff. He reaches out and quickly scribbles his fingers over the soles of the teen's feet. With a high-pitched shriek, the legs let loose, and Sam was about to let out a sigh of relief when a foot came in contact with his chest and sent him flying back a few meters. 

"Shihihit! Sohohohrry Saham!"

He hears Bucky let out a shocked but not less amused laugh.

"You should wear shoes in the gym, Peter. Bruce or Tony will kill you if they find out you walk around here in just socks."

"I wahahas juhuhst testing out my geahahahar."

"Still, that's dangerous. Something could happen to your feet."

Clint reaches out to catch one of the flailing feet to give it a quick tickle, but Peter sees it coming and pulls them quickly close to his chest, scowling at the man as threateningly as he can while laughing his head off. It wasn't very threatening. 

"Leahahahave them alohone, Clihint!"

Clint puts his hand up defensively, carrying a smirk on his face. "Okay, okay. No need to pull a Sam on me, kid."

"Hey!" shouts Sam from his place on the ground, grimacing as he rubs his chest. 

"Clint's right, that's still dangerous," comments Bucky, and it drives Peter mad how the three were talking this causally while the ex-assassin did everything that leaves Peter laughing his head off.

 

"I dohohon't wear shohohes in the suhuhit eithehheher!" he protests as well as he could. 

Sam frowns at that when he comes to a halt next to Clint, sending Peter a disapproving glance. "Don't let the public hear that. I can already see CPS getting sent after us.  Excuse me, your enhanced spider toddler doesn't wear shoes while fighting DoomBots. We need to do a home visit. "

"I ahaham nohohot a toddlehehrr!" growls Peter, glaring at Sam.

"You are not? I'll bet I can make you sound like one."

Before Peter can ask what Bucky is talking about, a muscled arm wraps around him, finger hoking under the hem of his shirt and pulling it up. The arm stays wrapped around his chest, holding the shirt in place and exposing his middle to the cold air while simultaneously taking the last bit of room Peter had to move. He was now rendered completely immobile, and whatever Bucky was planning to do to him, Peter didn't know how much more he could take. 

"Would you look at that? Is that a cute little tummy that begs for attention?"

Peter's eyes grew twice in size at the words and the tone of voice Bucky was using. Bucky cannot be serious about doing this. 

"Does Pete-Pie's tummy want some tickles? Hmm?"

Peter didn't need to see the man's face to know he was wearing a massive shit-eating grin. If Peter had thought he had been embarrassed before, this was taking the meaning of being embarrassed to a whole new level. The worst thing about Bucky teasing him and talking to him like he was a three-year-old was the fact, that Peter couldn't shake off the nervous anticipation as he watched the metal arm creeping closer, fingers wriggling playfully just above his stomach. 

"You still won't talk Pete-Pie?"

"Fuck off, Buhuhucky!"

Sam shakes his head as he watches Bucky messing with the kid.

 

"You see Barton, that is what I talked about earlier. I don't care about people telling me Spidey is a genius, that just now didn't sound very genius to me."

Clint grins at the words, shrugging his shoulders. 

"Maybe he likes getting tickled?" he asks.

"Is that it, Pete? Do you like tickles? Like the little toddler, you are?" teases Bucky and starts scratching the tips of his fingers ever so lightly over his bare navel, causing Peter to scrunch his nose up as he tries to hold back the giggles that were building up in his throat. What Bucky did to him was nothing like the ruthless attacks from before. This was all gentle and teasing touches, dragging and wriggling fingertips lightly over his sides and stomach, searching for spots that made Peter twitch. 

Peter was biting his lips, dreading to give Bucky the satisfaction of making any sound after getting humiliated like that, but the ex-assassin really knew how to fish for a reaction. It got harder and harder to keep the noises from escaping as the fingers wandered upwards, dangerously close to his ribcage. Catching onto the way the body in his arm tenses up, Bucky's smirk grows even wider, and he pulls his hand away, creating a false sense of security before he brings his head closer to Peter.

"I found your weak spot, little Spider," he growls into the teen's ear, and his hand shoots up, pressing his fingertips under the highest of Peter's ribs, and vibrating his hand but not in a ruthless manner from before. It did create just the effect he had gone for, breaking the last of Peter's walls down, and soon high-pitched giggles poured out of the teen's mouth. A wide grin splits Peter's face, and the childlike giggles cause the three men to grin at the sound filling the gym. As much as they liked teasing Peter, they all had to admit that his high-pitched giggles were nothing but adoring. 

"Sure, you're sixteen and not three, Peter?"

Peter couldn't form an answer, too busy giggling his head off as the claw-like hand started vibrating into his belly, sending ticklish waves through his whole body. He could feel the heat in his head spreading down to his neck and chest, and he probably looked more flustered than ever before. The worst thing was that Bucky didn't seem to even think about stopping anytime soon, and Peter felt close to giving up.

"Okay, Gentleman, as fun as tormenting the kid is, we will end this here."

Peter had never felt more relieved to hear Tony's voice before. He listens half-heartedly as the man approaches the group before coming to a halt in front of him, glancing at him with a twitch of his lips.

"You're still alive."

"Just peachy, Mr. Stark."

"Good. Because I have a few things to discuss with you, Peter."

Peter catches himself as the string of web is cut and catches sight of Bucky, Clint, and Sam exiting the gym while Tony beckons him to follow him to one of the benches standing at the side. 

Peter sits down while Mr. Stark pulls out one of the extra vials with the solvent for the web fluids. He holds his still bound together hands out, waiting for the man to spray the solvent and free him when he gets pushed back onto the bench.

"Mr. Stark?" asks Peter, staring wide-eyed at the man who had pushed him down. 

"Oh no. You are not off the hook yet, Parker."

"I don't know what you are tal-"

"Ah ah ah," interrupts Mr. Stark and presses his finger against Peter's lips to keep him from talking. 

"Care to explain why you hacked into Friday, Peter."

Oh fuck.

"Not the words I would use, but that sums it up well enough."

Peter didn't mean to say that out loud. He gulps when Mr. Stark raises an eyebrow, waiting for him to explain himself.

"These three didn't manage to, but I know how to make you talk, Peter. Don't let it come to that," warns Tony and places a hand on Peter's stomach, keeping him from getting up.

"You saw all that?"

"This is my tower kid. What did you expect?"

Now Peter was seriously fucked.

#marvel tickle fic #ticklish! peter parker #tickling #tickle fanfic #spiderman #peter parker #bucky barnes #sam wilson #clint barton #falcon #winter soldier #hawkeye #marvel fanfic #ticklish peter parker

[le-trash-prince]

Android Kenta pt 1

This part is PeteKenta-centric, I will continue this later with KimKenta thoughts

Also this is in the same AU as WinnerDean in space prison.

Kenta is purchased as a companion droid for Pete. His mission was to give Pete an emotional attachment to the foundation, that way Pete would have a reason to stay without ever getting to know the other alphas.

Kenta’s core is transplanted into a new body every few years as Pete grows older. He looks like a child when Pete is young, and he looks like a teenager when Pete is a teen. This always happens without warning—Kenta is told to report to the tech suite for maintenance, only to find a new body waiting for him, lifeless and empty. It’s traumatic going through this level of change, but Kenta doesn’t register it as trauma. He tells himself it’s just a difficulty he has in adjusting to a new body. He thinks he just needs to be better at accepting what’s happened.

He doesn’t understand that he has emotions at all because he’s told by Tony that he’s only a machine and incapable of feeling anything. So he parses his emotions as “malfunctions,” “flaws,” and “errors.” Things that detract from following a logical train of thought.

I don’t think Pete can read Kenta’s thoughts in this world, but he does believe in Kenta’s personhood and he thinks that Kenta does have feelings.

When Kenta falls in love with Pete, he tells himself it must be part of his programming—because he was designed to be Pete’s companion. When he seeks out Pete’s company, he’s merely fulfilling his function (he likes being around Pete). When he smiles at things Pete says, it’s only because it’s in his code to do so (Pete makes him happy). This is what Tony has asked of him. It’s good for him to fulfill his purpose.

But when they kiss, he can’t accept it. It would be unfair to let Pete fall for him if what Kenta feels isn’t real. It would be unfair to use Pete’s feelings to trap him. Even though it is his function to trap Pete. It tears him apart, the conflict of being a good friend and being good enough at his mission to make Pete stay. It doesn’t even occur to him that he’s torn between his love for Pete and his loyalty to Tony.

On top of that, he’s (not) dealing with the heartbreak (that he doesn’t feel) about Pete leaving. And he doesn’t know who he’s supposed to be if Pete isn’t here.

Tony’s intention originally was to put Kenta back in the role of a child, once he had been successful with Pete—and have him repeat the process with a younger enigma. But after Pete escapes, Tony is so furious at Kenta’s failure that he rips him apart and nearly destroys him, telling him that he’s worth more as scrap metal. He has Kenta’s core removed and placed in storage for months, abandoned from thought.

The next time Kenta wakes, he’s in a new body yet again—a combat model this time. He’s been loaded with a security program and relegated to guard status. And there’s tighter controls on his behavior. He doesn’t know it yet, but there’s a module implanted along his spinal column, set to deliver a dangerous level of electric shock at any perceived disobedience.

The first time he hesitates to enforce one of Tony’s orders, it sends him to his knees.

He learns to obey more quickly after that. He’s spent his existence as a companion, and now he has to be a weapon, as if a few lines of code would make it easy for him to take a life. He tells himself he’s always been a tool, and this is the only way he can be useful to Tony, who has given him life. Even if Kenta suffers a near-total shutdown the moment he’s behind closed doors.

There are loopholes that he finds—if an order is worded too vaguely, the punishment module won’t activate if Kenta is lenient with his interpretation. Of course, Tony takes punishment into his own hands at times, and Kenta accepts it because he views himself as malfunctioned. He’s a broken droid, full of flaws in his core, full of feelings he pretends he doesn’t have.

By the time he sees Pete again, years later, he’s pushed all of this deep below the surface, performing the part of the perfect machine he believes he’s meant to be.

Edit: Part 2 here

#pit babe #pit babe the series #pit babe au #kenta pit babe #petekenta #em post

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Imposter: Tomura Shigaraki

He’s often a subject of suspect during meetings

Always backed up by one of his groupies

With the white or cyan suit, you have every right to be wary of him

He’s the heir to a massive galactic crime syndicate

That needs the majority of this crew gone

Whether they’re ejected or eliminated by him and his team

It will be done

But he’s allowed to have a prize for himself

The cute and haughty navigator who he wants nothing more than to see you crying his name out will suffice

Since you met he’s wanted to break you down

To put you in your place next to him as a power

To own the bossy navigator that has no problem telling him how you feel about his work ethic

Always nitpicking in that adorable bossy voice of yours

Wagging your little finger in his face teasing him to no end

He’s always felt especially steamy in his suit when you’re critiquing his tasks over his shoulder

Just reach over and kiss him, why don't you

But he thinks it’ll feel even better when he’s the one calling the shots

With permission from his father, you are his reward 

As long your not working for the enemy you’re all his:

“Geez could this night get any worse!?” 

You called out to the echoing chamber of the control room. Awoken in the heat of the night by your captain you rushed to try and fix the malfunctioning system. Your crew was dwindling leaving the few of you to divide and conquer. Splitting apart to fix the most vital inner workings of the Innersloth ship which conveniently have all begun to malfunction at the same time. You were given your original station–Navigation, only for the adjacent system of communication to also be glitching. Trying to manage both systems you're running back and forth throughout the room you were so frazzled you almost missed the entry of your assistant. 

“Shigaraki?! Good, I’m glad that your here. I need help stabilizing communications and navigation, take your pick.”

You continued working, stopping to yell at him when you heard no movement or response. But when you turned the confusion of his appearance was enough to make you stop.

“What are you wearing? And why are you smiling like that?”

He indeed was smiling as he continued to walk into the room; wearing a red-hooded cape over a black skintight suit that reminded you of the elite space heroes uniform. He moved to the communication panel took out a flash drive and plugged it into the port. You opened your mouth to reprimand him for this bizarre behavior but you were stopped by the feedback from the public announcement system. 

“As of now we have control over all communications and in a bit, we will have….navigation. In three...two...one.”

At the mention of the word the red blinking lights changed to green, indicative of the remote access that was apparently being used. You wished that was the end of it but it was not. 

“Done! Oh and in a lil’ bit we’ll begin our little,” the speaker laughed before continuing,” firing squad courtesy of Dabi!! Would you like to hear from the lucky contestants?”

“Mmmf agh No please you can’t do this, please–mmmmf”

The voice of your captain pleaded to shrink as she was pulled away with a hand covering her mouth. Listening you could hear similar silenced noises of the remaining crew struggling.

“And that’s all from them! We’re going to have a great show! Do you want to join us Shiggy-boss man?” 

The click of a walkie-talkie from behind you and the smug response of your former assistant solidified any doubts that might have lingered on.

“You guys can start without me. I’ll just be getting my prize…”

Hollering and muffled screams on the PA were the last you heard before it was clicked off. A cold sweat formed on your neck and a bubble of fear formed in your mouth. You refused to turn, to look the man in his blood-hungry eyes. 

“So are you going to kill me now…?”

“You know that’s not what I want.”

“Than the prize you want…?”

“It's you. It’s always been you.”

#yandere imposter shigaraki #yandere among us #yandere imposter #yandere among us tomura shigaraki #yandere among us bnha #yandere shigaraki #yandere tomura shigaraki #yandere tomura #yandere bnha #tomura shigaraki #Tenko Shimura #yandere x reader #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yandere x you #yandere mha #yandere villain #yandere shigaraki tomura #yandere bnha x reader #yandere mha villains #yandere lov

[bumpkinspice0]

Parallels Chapter 8: Not a Monster

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader

No use of y/n

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 5824

Summary: Miguel is lost in the multiverse and you're the only one that can possibly find him... but how? And what does it mean for your relationship?

Warnings: canon-typical violence, Slight Dubcon (Miguel is full feral but his advances aren't unwanted), ANGST, man pain, some self loathing, it's time to grow up and talk about our feelings... just a little. A/N: Electro is a silly, silly name and I couldn't take it seriously. You have my full permission to laugh at the fight scene.

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AO3

_______________

Chapter 8

Not a Monster

The Tower was practically empty this time of night. Your quick footsteps echo through the massive, vacant building, it was haunting.

You pull at your nanotech suit as you run down the long corridor. You’re still not used to the futuristic material. You had to rush out of your apartment, Lyla claiming there was no time to waste. You left a hastily scribbled note for Gwen and headed to the roof.

 A new wave of panic rushes over you as you enter the dark hallway of Miguel’s lab. It felt wrong being here without him. Lyla hovered with you the entire time. 

Miguel was missing. What did that even mean?

How the hell can you go missing when your energy signature is constantly tracked throughout all of time and space.

Lyla informed you of the situation as you ran. Miguel had gone after an Electro anomaly yesterday afternoon. He’d tracked it for hours through whatever universe it’d fallen into. It could teleport, making him extremely illusive. The last time they had a clear signal on his location he was engaged in combat then… nothing. He’d disappeared off the map for at least 10 seconds, then— he was everywhere. His signal was scattered to thousands of dimensions, each one indecipherable from being the real one. Lyla couldn’t reach him anymore. If she scanned them all at once she would crash completely, taking hours to reboot. She could only go through a few dozen at a time and her efforts were proving to be fruitless. Valuable time was wasted while she scanned through the multiverse at a snail's pace, so she called you in to help. You still had no idea why she called you of all people.

If Lyla, the all-knowing omnipotent AI, couldn’t find him, how the hell could you?

You walk to the center of Miguel’s laboratory, expecting to see dozens of spiders working tirelessly in front of computers to find him. Instead, you’re met with more silence.

“Lyla, where is everyone?” you ask, completely dumbfounded.

“What do you mean?” She glitches in front of you.

“Miguel’s missing. Don’t we have a team, like… working on this?”

“Not protocol,” she shakes her head, “At least, not for something like this anyway. We don’t want to cause panic. If we can solve this quietly, we will. In such a massive malfunction case like this, the lead duty falls to the architect.”

You furrow your brow, “Who the fuck is the architect?”

“That would be me,” A voice from overhead echoes across the cavernous room. Miguel’s desk platform begins to lower down. On top of it stands a man you’d never seen before. He was tall, tan-skinned, with messy dark hair and a lean build. He wore a set of goggles atop his head and loose-fitting clothes with an obnoxious striped scarf to top it off. You’ll never get 2099 fashion. No, you’d never met him before, but you recognized someone else in his features. That strong jaw, kind eyes, and pouty lips. This was undoubtedly Miguel’s brother, “Gabriel O’Hara. Gabe.” 

You jump up to the platform and shake his hand, offering your name as well. “Why am I here, Gabe?”

He lazily raises his eyebrows at you as if annoyed by the question, “You can track Miguel through the multiverse.”

You have to catch yourself from falling on your ass. “Excuse me?” 

“I told you to ease her into it!” Lyla blips in front of Gabe, several pixels flaring around her in anger. 

“We don’t have time to ease into it. We barely have time for a crash course ,” Gabe waves her off and walks to a computer. With the click of a button, a massive projection takes over the room. Intricate weaving webs of red connecting together. Within the webs, hundreds of white dots are scattered. “One of these…” Gabe points to a white dot, “...is Miguel. The real Miguel. The rest are false readings. I don’t know what that thing did to his watch and we have no way of knowing which one is the real one. It’s like his signature was cloned and thrown around. Lyla said we wanna try do this quietly before we jump to rally the calvary, so that’s why you're here. Your connection with him can make you do that. You can track him.”

Your heart instantly sinks. He was talking a mile a minute to the point you barely understood him, but that last sentence rings in your head like a gong. He knew.

“I told him,” Lyla explains as she materializes in front of you. You wonder briefly if she can read minds, but your dread must have been painted all over your face. “It’s our last chance and I couldn’t just keep important information like this. He’s the only one that knows my system, he would have found out eventually. You could be our only hope if—.”

“I– I don’t understand—” You finally stammer out.

“Look, I don’t know how your bond thing works either but Lyla seems to think it’s the best chance we have. So, whatever you did to get him to...” Gabe’s rambling comes to a slow halt. He must have finally understood what you’re confused, blank stare was about. He sighs into his hand, “He didn’t tell you, did he?”

“Tell me what?!” You blurt.

“That’s why we should have eased her into it!’ Lyla palms her non-existent face.

“Fucking Migs. Tengo que hacer todo por aquí ,” Gabe mumbles as he turns back the control console. “Here. You might as well hear it from the horse's mouth.”  A screen illuminates in front of you, Miguel in the center frame. It’s a recording, a timestamp and a date marked across the bottom. You recognize the date— That day after the Goblin Queen attack.

“New developments with the spider-sense connection,” He starts, his voice clinical and monotone. “While the sense was previously thought to be only triggered by close contact of various ranges, this is no longer the case. A response seemed to also be triggered by distress from the opposite party. I felt her while she was in her home dimension. This connection appears to be able to… transcend the multiverse itself.” He takes a moment to breathe into his hands. You share the sentiment. Your spider-sense can travel time and space? There’s just no way. You feel your legs buckle, catching yourself on the nearest chair. Miguel looks back up at the camera, “I went to her dimension last night. I just felt a… pull there. When we fought it was—”

Gabe stops the recording and you feel like you take your first breath since you got here.

The way you’d been feeling since this afternoon… you chalked it up to being too emotional over catching the Fisk’s and having nostalgia because of your great partner. Idiot, you should be able to recognize a spider-sense by now. Then again, if Miguel wasn’t there, what reason would you have to think it was?

A spider-sense that could stretch the multiverse? It didn’t sound possible. 

“He’s not in the original dimension he started in, we know that much. We don’t know what was damaged,” Gabe continues, “I know we’re asking a lot but you might be our only option here.”

This was just too much. He says it all like it’s so goddamn easy. It must be an O’Hara trait, you think. 

This was something that was so far beyond just you. The leader of Spider Society, the man with the answers to the multiverse’s fate rests in your hands. You want to scream. You want to fall apart and crawl into the closest dark corner and never come out— But you don’t have that luxury right now.

You’re Spider-Woman. You’d done more reckless things on less information dozens of times. Not necessarily a bragging point, but it helped you feel better at the moment. Miguel was out there somewhere. Amongst these thousands of scrambled dots, one was the real him— struggling and alone. You could feel him fighting.

Save Miguel first, yell at him for putting you in this position later.

Lyla materializes in front of you, a gentle expression on her face, “You can do this.”

So… How do you fucking do this? Your spider-sense was never something you actively thought about. It just happened, usually at the most inconvenient times. Maybe that was just it. You were thinking too much— You had to just let it happen. It’s as good a starting point as any. 

You swivel to the center of the multiverse projection and take a deep breath, closing your eyes. 

Gabe speaks, “What’s she—”

“Shut up!” Lyla instantly silences him in a hushed tone.

Several deep breaths, in through the nose, out through the mouth. You feel the tension in your limbs melt away as the buzzing in your head becomes clearer— it was your guiding light. You’re not sure how to follow it, but if this thing was truly a part of you then it should come naturally… right? Your gut stirs, knowing somewhere out there your spider double needs you. Know that it may only be you that could save him. How poetic, you think.

You squeeze your eyes tighter, recalling those first feelings of the spider-sense. You’d never felt it before yet you knew exactly what it was. On top of that, you knew exactly what caused it. A completely alien sensation to your body yet you knew exactly what it wanted— You just knew. You weren’t naive about it anymore, you weren’t scared of it. You wanted to know its full potential. It was showing you tonight.

It starts like a faint pulse in your ears. A beacon. You open your eyes, taking in the thousands of twinkling white lights amongst the web of the multiverse. One of them is Miguel… the real Miguel. One calls to you.

You stand, walking amongst the projection. You step to the left, the pulsing fades— Colder. You continue to your right, following the rhythmic pull. You picture Miguel, everything about him. His face, his scent, the deep baritone voice— The pulse grows faster. 

You recall the way he squeezes your hips when he makes love to you. His touch was always rough but somehow still caring and loving. Ironic how that encapsulates him as a person. A sheep in wolf’s clothing. 

You come to a stop, one of the single blips seemingly shining brighter than the rest. Your sense jumps as you reach out for it. This had to be it. You tap the small projection, several screens expand with various information about the mystery universe. 

Earth 774-b. A decimated world ravaged by wars long past. Almost no human population. What remained there was rubble, slowly being grown over with moss. 

“This it?” Gabe steps to your side, looking over the schematics. 

“It’s… what I felt.” You answer. 

“Well, we wouldn’t wanna ignore a gut feeling,” He grumbles, jumping off the platform. He motions for you to follow— you do. Several small robots crawl to his aid, carrying various pieces of equipment. He comes to a work desk, rummaging several things out of the drawers, “Your watch, please.” He demands more than asks.

You extend your wrist and he immediately begins tinkering with the interdimensional device. He welds on a small bolt to the side, “This should protect it from any direct electromagnetic attacks. Wouldn’t want a repeat and have 2 missing spider’s on our hands.” He turns to one of the robots, grabbing a backpack it dutifully brought him. He reaches inside, grabbing a second watch, “This is for Miguel when you find him. I suspect his current watch is fried,” He drops it back in and pulls out another device. You recognize it as one of the force field traps, “This is for Electro when you find him. It’s specially made for someone of his abilities. You have 3 of them. Contain him first if you find him.” He hands you the backpack, “There are medical supplies and food and water rations. You have 3 hours before we send in backup. Stay in contact.”

And with that, he hands you the pack and walks back to the monitors. You feel like a kid thrown into the deep end of the pool. You don’t have time to think, you barely have time to breathe. After all your years of superheroing, you think you’d be more used to being treated like a soldier. In a lot of ways, you were still just a kid that got bit by a spider. 

You put in the coordinates to Universe 774-b. Lyla appears at your shoulder as the portal bursts to life in front of you. 

“If anyone can do this, it’s you.” She assures you. She probably recognized the fear in your eyes. “I’ll be with you the whole time.”

You nod, your mask materializing over your face. You were Spider-Woman. This was just another Tuesday night for you—no big deal. You can do this. 

______________

This universe had a distinctive scent you’d never smelled before. Like oil poured over fresh-cut grass. An entire planet that humans hadn’t touched for decades, but their crumbling cities and rusting machines still sat idle. Nature had already overtaken most of what remained in this dystopian New York— You hated it. It could very well be a bleak image of your home city. The thought makes you shutter and you push it to the back of your mind. 

It was mid-afternoon. You’d been in the apocalyptic world for nearly an hour now, Lyla leading you to the largest energy signature in the vicinity— Smack dab in the middle of what used to be Time Square. With no technology on the planet, it wasn’t hard to find. Your spider-sense has been a quiet hum the entire time here, surprisingly. You thought it would jump and sing as soon as you entered this dimension but so far it remained tame. 

It was starting to feel like a complete gamble on Miguel even being here.

What if your intuition was completely wrong? In the rush, you hadn’t even considered this could be all for nothing. A multiverse spider-sense tracker? Ridiculous. Miguel could have been wrong before. You could have just convinced yourself there was something special about this universe, surrounded by people begging you for an answer. 

This could all be for nothing and Miguel could still be lost… or worse. 

You push the intrusive thoughts down, not wanting to needlessly distract yourself from the task at hand. You had 2 more hours here and you were going to use them regardless. You were closing in on the energy signature. 

You hear it before you see it. Distant electric crackling followed by crumbling bricks. Hope overtakes your growing anxieties. You swing up to the surrounding rooftops and peer down into the crumbling historic square. There in the open center of the towering buildings stood Electro, alone and fuming.

“ Come out! Come out!” He screamed, blasting an electric charge into the withering billboard for Phantom of the Opera. By the looks of the surrounding freshly charred buildings, he’d been at it for a while. “ Come out and fight like a man! ”  

He was talking to Miguel. Taunting him… but where was he? Hiding or injured, most likely. You’ll find out soon enough. Even amidst the several revelations, relief washes over you. Miguel was here— somewhere.

You hadn’t seen an Electro like this before. Whereas most wore a green and yellow suit with an obnoxious lightning-decorated cowl, this man didn’t seem to even be completely human anymore. He still wore a skin-tight suit, but it was black. His skin glowed a translucent blue. You could see the energy flowing through him. It surged through his entire being, like blood through veins. He didn’t just have power over electricity— He was electricity. This was a being of pure energy. 

That would have been nice to know ahead of time. 

He abruptly halts his rampage, cocking his head to the side. Before you can react, a bolt shoots directly at you. It hits the bricks at your feet, sending you tumbling into the square. You catch yourself mid-fall and swing to the opposite end of the street. So much for the element of surprise. 

You find a perch on a crumbling billboard a few stories above the square. Electro faces you, searing in anger.

“ You’re not him! ” His electronic voice crackles, “ Where is he?! ”

“Look, dude, I was hoping you could tell me.” The attempted joke is immediately met with another rage-fueled blast of energy. You’re able to dodge this time, swinging down another level. You expect another attack but instead, you see the villain fall to his knees, wheezing and shaking. He was exhausted, who knows how long he’d been at this stupid charade. 

A realization hits you. He feeds off energy. It sustains him as well as his powers. There wasn’t anything for him to feed off of in this dead world. He was weaker— Significantly weaker. If there was a time to capture him, it was now. Gabe told you to contain him first before you hunted for Miguel.

You quickly grab one of the traps out of your bag. Not giving him a single second to regain himself, you pounce. You can end this now and find Miguel. Easy as pie. 

But of course, it’s never that easy, is it?

You’re almost on him when he vanishes, and you stumble to the now empty ground— Teleportation. Right. He reappears behind you in an instant. He doesn’t hesitate to blast you again at point-blank range.

An electric field engulfs you, surging searing hot pain through every fiber of your being. You drop the trap amidst the chaos. You twist and scream in the field, unable to control your body’s movements. It takes hold of you as you're lifted from the ground by nothing but pure energy. 

“ Your suit’s like his,” Electro laughs, “ Makes for a great conductor. Now let’s see that watch. ”

He knew about the multiverse watches too— Great. 

You could feel the nanotech waving in and out of existence amongst the static. You desperately reach for the trap, trying to shoot a web or just bring it to your hand by sheer willpower. No such luck.

Even amongst the blinding pain, you felt something. The very thing you’d been praying for since you got here— A buzzing in the back of your head.

It happens in a flash. A rusted car is thrown towards you both, missing you by inches but dispersing Electro’s being into thin air. You drop to your hands and knees, taking in the biggest breath of your life. The remaining energy twitches through you as you stand back on your shaky feet. Your nanotech suit tames down back to its original design. 

You look in the direction the car was thrown from— and there he is. Crouched on all fours with a mask drawn over his face. 

“Miguel!” You shout, immediately running towards him.

“S-stay back!” He growls, a deep raspiness to his voice. You screech to a halt instantly. He didn’t sound normal. 

“ Spider-Man! ” Electro materializes back above the square, arms outstretched. He couldn’t have much juice left. He was putting all he had left into this fight. “ And a Spider-Woman, my lucky day. I’ll kill you both and rip those dimensional travel devices off your cold dead bodies. ”

Miguel pounces immediately, swinging up to the floating menace. So much for making a plan. If Miguel had been stuck in this hellscape for nearly a day, you’re sure he was frustrated. He was lashing out without thinking— and it could be the perfect distraction. 

They dance around each other in midair. Miguel effortlessly dodging lightning bolts and Electro weaving between webs. Their efforts were fueled by rage and exhaustion. You take the opportunity to scale the buildings rather than join in the fight. 

Webs and brute force meant nothing if he could disappear at will. You had to be smarter than that.  He just had to get close and you’d have him. Proximity was all you needed.

You perch yourself 10 stories up, at least half a block from the fight. You pull out your second trap. With how fast they were moving, they’d swing by you any second. As if on queue, you see Miguel’s head snap in your direction. His gaze shoots through you like a spear. You hold up the electric trap and wave your arm in a beckoning motion, you think he gets the message. He swings the fight around, moving directly for you. 

Keeping Electro’s focus on him, they swing in front of you. You have a split second to react. Electro’s back to you, you jump. He’s only a dozen or so feet away from you and at a lower angle. You have the advantage. 

You arm the device mid-air as you lunge closer. Once directly above him, you release it. The trap locks on to its target and begins webbing glowing red beams around Electro. It entangles him, trapping him inside an impenetrable force field. Trapped, he plummets back to the ground. You swing down to follow, flanked closely by Miguel.

He tumbles to a jarring stop inside the makeshift prison cell.

“ What is— ” He stands, touching the glowing red walls. He’s immediately zapped away from the containment field. Enraged, he attempts to blast through it, only to have the electricity immediately returned and ricochet around the containment cell. He continues to rampage despite the repeated results.

“Lyla,” You say into your watch, setting the coordinates for Spider Tower, “Take him in.”

“Aye, aye,” The AI replies, a portal forming directly beneath the red cage. Electro drops out of reality in an instant.

 You turn to Miguel, only to find him several yards away with his back turned to you. His posture isn’t normal, he’s hunched over and twitchy. You can hear him dragging in ragged, growling breaths. He was tired. He’d just been through a traumatic event for all you know. 

“Lyla,” You say into your watch again. “Tell Gabe I’ve found Miguel, but just… give us a minute.”

“Don’t be too long,” She responds. Even though she’s artificial, you think you can hear a sense of relief in her voice. The crisis was averted. Miguel was safe— you think. 

“Mig?” You step towards him, cautiously reaching out.

“I said,” His head flinches to the side, sleek mask dissipating. “ Stay away! ” He slashes at you, baring his teeth and claws. His fangs, you’d never seen them before. His eyes were completely taken over by crimson red. His features were contorted and angry. He crouches down, resting his weight on his hands. He was trembling— Holding something back. 

His power dampeners— oh, you absolute idiot. 

Amongst the chaos, you’d all somehow completely forgotten the thing Miguel desperately needed to stay cognitive. The very thing that keeps a side of him at bay. He hadn’t dosed himself in nearly a full day, and the animal was taking hold. He was agitated. Volatile. Your spider-sense rings through you like a warning— or, something else?

This was not the same Miguel you knew. 

A glitch shakes through his being. His watch was damaged, unable to regulate his unstable atoms in the alien world. He comes out of the glitch raging, clawing at the surrounding rubble. Anything and everything was his target. He throws more cars, he slashes street lamps in half. So, this is what happens when he doesn’t take his dampeners?

“Miguel!” You scream over the chaos. He halts his rampage, staring you down. Those eyes were absolute daggers. You speak calmly “I have a watch for you. Let’s get you home and get you taken care of. It’s over. It’s gonna be okay.”

“Taken care of,” He repeats. His animalistic voice sends chills down your spine. He stalks toward you, you don’t move. Even hunched over, his height still dwarfs you. 

You take out the backup watch and drop your bag to the side. The spider-sense hummed in anticipation. You’re not sure if it’s telling you to run or stand your ground. Regardless, you reach for his arm. Just get the watch on him, and you can go. 

He grabs your wrist so quickly you don’t even register the movement. He pulls you against him. You feel yourself shrink in his grasp, and your spider-sense sings. He brings your wrist up to his face, trailing his nose down your arm with a deep inhale. He stops at your neck— you feel his fangs graze the soft flesh there. It sends a wave of heat straight to your core.

Why weren’t you scared right now?

“ Mi añarita. Me encontraste,” He growls against you, sending all your hair on end, “ ¿Has venido a cuidar de mí?”

He brings you down to your shaking knees, crawling on top of you. His massive limbs cage you in. You could easily scurry out of it— away from him, but you don’t want to. You could feel it building as you had dozens of times before. He could take you right here and you’d revel in it. 

It takes every fiber of your being to push down your building urges. Not here. Not now— He could be hurt and starving for all you know. You had a mission. Get Miguel home, despite what your selfish desires wanted. 

His guard is lowered, distracted by his primal impulse. You were completely on your back while he hovered over you. You take the opportunity to hit the home button on his backup watch, opening a portal directly behind your head. You raise your feet to Miguel’s stomach, kicking him over you into the portal before he can fight back. He needed his meds. You had to get him back now, like it or not.

“Lyla!” You scream into your watch, jumping through the portal as well, “Tell Gabe to get his dampeners ready! He’s on edge and we’re coming in hot.”

You fly through the dimensional wormhole, trailing only feet behind Miguel. He thrashed and spun as he was shot through the fabric of time and space itself. You take advantage of the rolling zero gravity environment and start to web him up, subduing his violent movements. The more he struggled, the worse it got. Simple webs couldn’t hold him for long but they’ll have to do for now. You had to get him back and everything could be taken care of. 

You both fly out of the portal, tumbling over each other on the lab floor. Miguel roars as he struggles against the webbing, several strands snapping in the process. He stands, whipping himself around violently, his arms are nearly free. 

A small neon green dot flashes across your vision. A dart filled with his dampener serum sinks into his neck. He collapses to the ground instantly. You turn to see Gabe holding a tranquilizer gun. 

“Three times the dose with a little bit of sedative,” He places the gun on a nearby table, “Sorry about that, his… condition completely slipped my mind.”

“Yeah, mine too,” You groan, picking yourself up off the floor. You look at Miguel laying there, subdued and face still contorted in anger. You have the urge to wail over the sight. You did this to him. You want to reach out to him, take care of him. He’s in pain and you—

You immediately head for the door, feeling your spider-sense threatening to make your emotions boil over. 

“He’ll be up in a few minutes!” Gabe shouts after you.

“Just need some fresh air,” You call back, picking up your pace. 

___________

You sit on the walkway outside of his room for nearly an hour. You dangle your feet over the cavernous edge, looking down at the vast multi-hundred-story tower. There wasn’t a single spider inside now. Gabe had left about 20 minutes ago, wishing you a good night and thanking you for your help. You tell him the same and that was that. Miguel’s brother, the architect of spider-kind… You wonder what his background role was the rest of the time. You wonder if you’ll ever see him again. 

You don’t know why you haven't gone home yet. You wanted to but… something was keeping you here. You wanted to make sure Miguel was okay, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go in to see him either. You wanted to… but you wanted to give him time. Hell, you needed to give yourself time too.

You felt another urge from the spider-sense tonight. The need to protect. To soothe and subdue. To save your— You were getting too close to him. Too close to all of this, and it scared you.

 You wonder if Miguel remembers. If he has any semblance of control when the spider side takes over. He seemed to, if only just barely. 

“Hey,” A familiar calming voice pulls you from your thoughts. Miguel stands behind you— The Miguel you knew. The man with kind eyes and rigid posture. The sight of him instantly puts you at ease. “You didn’t come inside.”

“I wanted to but… It felt… It was a lot.”

“Yeah…” He sighs, taking a seat next to you— the understanding is completely mutual, you know that by now. “You saved my life today. I won’t forget it.”

“Don’t mention it,” You look down at your feet like they’re the most interesting thing in the world. 

“I mean it. Thank you," he insists. You give him a faint nod and a smile. You want to ask him about it, about the animal inside him. About the spider-sense and why he didn’t tell you about its full capabilities sooner. About his brother, “I’m sorry.” He says instead.

“About what specifically?” you ask, coming off more irritated than you’d like to. 

“How about everything?” His words cut through you like a knife. You felt his guilt behind them, “Sorry you had to come here, sorry about Gabe, sorry you had to clean up my mess, sorry you… had to see me like that.”

You could hear the regret in his voice. Miguel O’Hara sincerely apologizing, you should get a camera. 

“What happened to start all this?” you ask. 

“It was a routine mission,” he starts, “He showed up in a populated area in a separate dimension. I thought it would be a quick grab. I underestimated him… drastically. You saw him, he could disperse his form at will. He could connect to any technology— Any machine. He got into my watch… to Lyla. I had to cut my connection.” 

Untold horrors could happen if a desperate villain got a hold of Lyla— a hold of the power of the multiverse. It was a scary thought. 

Miguel continues, “He fried my watch’s power by the time we landed. Thought I caught some luck when we landed somewhere he couldn’t recharge.”

“Your signal was copied over a thousand realities,” You inform him. 

“He scattered it looking for a way out, sending us both flying through the multiverse. When I cut off my connection, he was booted out of the system.” He clarified, “Didn’t want him to know where the home base was, anyway. Turned out to be a good thing, I think. Didn’t really consider myself at the time. I just had to keep him out. I would have figured something out eventually. I just had to outlast him.”

“Made a lot of work for me,” You grumble, jokingly. You bring your legs to your chest, resting your chin on your knees. “Why didn’t you tell me… That we could do this? Sense across the universe.”

He takes in a heavy breath, running his hand through his fluffy hair, “I thought it was a complete fluke. I thought I felt something and it turned out you were in a fight. Or maybe even a coincidence. Or if it was something, at least it only pertained to me. I’m… different from you. I had a shaky hypothesis. I should have tested it more. I’m sorry.”

Two apologies? You really should get that camera. 

“Did you feel me too, tonight? Across the universe?” you ask.

“Not until you were there. My mind wasn’t— I wasn’t—” He looks away, ashamed. You stomp down the urge to reach out and hold him. You don’t want to overstep a boundary. Did you even have those kinds of boundaries with him anymore? “If you ever have to see me like that again, you have my full permission to stop me… By any means necessary.”

“Miguel, it’s—”

“By any means necessary,” he repeats, tension dotting his words.

You could feel his self-loathing in his words. His hatred for this part of him. He was disgusted with himself. What he had done— what you both had almost done. You wanted him so badly in that moment back in the dystopian world, your spider-senses battling each other for it. You felt a little disgusted with yourself too. 

The only other person in the multiverse that could understand was sitting right next to you, and you feel like you couldn’t tell him anything.

You wanted to be his friend. You wanted this man to know he could talk to you completely judgment-free— and you knew you had to be the first one to take the step. You couldn’t keep each other at arm's length while still sharing these deeply intimate and personal things together. 

You don’t get to have your cake and eat it too. There had to be a compromise. You had to tell him you cared about his wellbeing— if only a little. You needed to. 

“I know you don’t feel like you can always rely on people, Miguel,” You begin, feeling his gaze drill into you, “I know you think you have to hold it all together yourself. That’s just part of being a spider… being a hero. But if that were true you wouldn’t have built this place. Even with all the help in the known universe you still think you’re the only one you can count on. Think about that.”

You stand, taking a few steps down the walkway. You take a deep breath before continuing “You’re not just a man but not a monster either, Mig. And you’re not alone. Remember that next time you treat yourself like you're expendable.” A portal to your dimension opens. You pause before stepping through, “I would do everything I did tonight again. I’m glad you’re okay, but don’t scare us like that again. Lyla was worried sick at the thought of never seeing you again.”

And so was I. 

His somber expression is the last thing you see before stepping into the multiverse. 

__________

Translations: Tengo que hacer todo por aquí.- I have to do everything around here. Mi añarita. Me encontraste. ¿Has venido a cuidar de mí? -My little spider. You found me. Have you come to take care of me?

And as always, let me know if I'm making a complete fool of myself, Spanish speakers! I appreciate anyone who comes in to help out with it!

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Taglist:

@ineedgarlicbread @pinkiemme @thesilenthill @bontensbabygirl @fallenangelsongwolf

#miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara smut #parallels fic

[dominimoonbeam]

To The Edge - 8

This work is mine and I do not give consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted without my permission. I am sharing chapters as I work on this story but it is copyrighted material that I plan to rework and publish when completed.

story tags: scifi romance, hijinks in space, rogues learning to trust, violence, blood, guns, death, explicit language, so much kidnapping,

Works organized and easily found over on the patreon. <3

TO THE EDGE - CHAPTER 8.

Rory contemplated some of the worst hours of his life to reassure himself that being duct-taped to a chair in his own ship, unable to do anything but wait and see if his bounty came back alive or not, wouldn’t make a list of his top ten.

There was the first time he got in a fight with pirates and got his ass handed to him. He’d almost lost an arm.

There was that time when he was working salvage and got stuck outside a wreck of a ship in a malfunctioning suit. Hypoxia had set it and if someone on his team hadn’t gotten the hatch open and dragged him inside, he would have died. He’d never felt his heart beat that hard before.

And then there was the first time he went to space—the first time he left the planet where he’d been born. He hadn’t been able to see the stars, packed into the cargo haul of a rickety ship, shoulder to shoulder with a hundred other desperate souls. It had shaken so hard, the hull creaking and screaming as they broke atmosphere. He had never been more scared before or since. That was the worst hour. The one where he thought he’d die crammed into that dark room, so close to escape, without a single star in sight.

This was not the worst.

This was not even close.

But it definitely felt like the worst when he considered just how much trouble that strange, naïve primer could be getting into on Styx. Where were they even going? If they wanted to piss off their family by running away, why this way? Why not go to Eaton? Why not go any damn direction other than the edge? The Solar Court had given up on this stretch of space—had found their limit and abandoned settlements along the border, like skeletons to mark the beginning of no-man’s-land.

The ship door opened, his ears popping and his head whipping to the side to try to see the entrance hall. “Stardust?”

It could be anyone. His primer could be anywhere.

“Did you enjoy your time alone?” they called, sounding chipper.

Rory laughed. “I spent the last two hours contemplating my mortality and just how quickly life can go to shit…”

Nodding, the primer walked onto the bridge. “You’re being dramatic.”

He huffed a laugh but forgot what he was going to say when he saw them. “Oh, look at you. I wasn’t expecting this much leather. Okay, I’m willing to admit that you might look better in that outfit than you did in my clothes…” Because he definitely wasn’t ready to admit how much he’d liked seeing them in his clothes… Did they get their hair cut too? That side shave was clean.

Stardust smiled and even did a little turn for him to get a good look at those leather ankle boots and tight pants, the faded t-shirt and leather jacket.

“What size is that jacket?” And where had they found it? He’d been looking for something like that for years. “Wait…How did you buy all of that?”

They blinked at him like they didn’t understand the question.

Rory shook his head. “There’s no way you had time to barter my stuff for that… Did you get into my account somehow or…” He sagged into his bindings. “Oh, Stardust. Tell me you didn’t use your own accounts.”

The primer pressed their shoulders back and their chin up. “It’s not like it’s a family account,” they said. “I have my own.”

“Not the family account? You think they don’t have tabs on your private one?”

Stardust rolled their eyes and waved a hand at him dismissively. “It doesn’t matter.” They settled into the pilot’s seat—his seat—and tapped at his controls, bringing his ship to life.

Rory ground his teeth, tugging at the tape he knew wasn’t going to budge but couldn’t stop himself from trying. “You really didn’t put much thought into running away, did you? Just figured that since you were already this far away, might as well keep going? Or did you like being in cuffs?” He grinned cruelly, hoping to get a reaction out of them. “You know, if that’s the case, I can cuff you again.”

He saw their hand hesitate over the keys.

Rory leaned forward as far as he could. “In fact, I promise that I will,” he whispered.

Stardust whipped around in the chair to glare at him, but when they opened their mouth, the ship beeped.

Incoming call. L-Class Yacht.

He saw the way their eyes flared at that announcement and barked a laugh. “That’ll be one of your relations. At least they’ll be able to tell from your shopping spree that I wasn’t taking advantage… Although I am definitely going to try on that jacket when I get loose.”

“Shut up! You’re not going anywhere, Cosmic. You’re in that chair until I’m done with your boat.”

He jerked at his restraints again and bared teeth at the back of their head. “Oh, I’m getting loose. See, you don’t know this yet because you have no fucking idea what you’re doing, but no one stays kidnapped forever. I mean, just look at yourself! By all rights, you should still be in a pirate’s storage compartment, but here you are, getting comfy in my seat, touching my controls, flying my damn ship—”

Another beep. Incoming call. L-Class Yacht.

He leaned back into his seat. “Are you going to get that?”

Stardust angrily tapped a key. The ship beeped. Call declined.

Rory gaped. “Are you out of your mind?”

The primer huffed a laugh, fingers flying over the controls. “Are you scared they’ll be mad?”

“Scared? Yes. Yes, I am scared of what your nightmare family might do if they think I fucked up this job. Have you met your grandmother? I haven’t and would like to keep it that way. Why do you think even pirates won’t go into the prime quad?” He didn’t need to wait for their response. “Because your family is there and they’re too snobby to step foot past their territory lines. So, assholes like me bring damsels like you back!”

Stardust tsked and he wondered if they’d rolled their eyes at him too. “I think we can both agree I’m not a damsel… and if you’re right, then I’m free and clear.”

“No. No, that does not mean that if you stay out of the prime they won’t get to you.”

The ship beeped. Detached from dock. Resuming course.

Rory sighed. “You’re not listening.”

The ship jostled as it decoupled from the station, stars gliding past the window and engines humming. “Don’t worry so much,” Stardust said, another tap at the console and they were off—cutting a line through space. “You’re going to be fine.”

“If they think I double-crossed them, or just botched this job, they will put a bounty on my head and hire someone else to drag you back. There’s no getting out of this.” Was he really trying to reason with this spoiled brat again? “And didn’t you want to go home? You made me promise.”

They shook their head but stubbornly wouldn’t look back at him. “You said you’d take me home. I never said the prime was my home. But I’m not holding you to that promise, okay? So just, sit back, relax, and you’ll have your ship back soon enough.”

Rory watched their shape bathed in starlight from the window, like a shadow being tested. “Prime isn’t home? Since when?”

They didn’t move. They didn’t answer.

He scoffed. Fucking primers. “Fine. Fine!” He pulled at his restraints again. “But when I starve to death in my own ship, that’s on you, Stardust. You’ll be a murderer as well as a thief!”

They finally looked back at him, eyes shining. “Then I guess we’re the same.”

Rory laughed cruelly. “Fuck you. We’re not the same!” he snapped but they both smiled. They were not the same—not by a long shot. And Stardust wasn’t a killer. He wasn’t even convinced they were a good thief, though admitting that in his current state would be too embarrassing to bear. “Seriously… Do you have any idea how humiliating this is?”

They kicked the lock on the floor and spun the chair around to face him. They looked way too comfortable in his seat, leaning into the side and putting a boot up on the cushion. “It’s not that bad.”

“I can’t get kidnapped by my own kidnappee. This will wreck my reputation.”

Stardust shrugged, trying not to smile and failing.

“Oh, you don’t give a shit about that? I’m really starting to regret patching you up.”

The primer put their elbow on the armrest and their chin in their palm, watching him squirm.

“You are officially my least favorite kidnappee.”

Stardust grinned.

No primer should have a smile that crooked.

#to the edge #defying gravity #sci fi romance #ride or die in space #audio script to novel #adventures of stardust and cosmic #<3 #own work #dominimoonbeam #clover down