#now back to actuators

[ef-1]

Twitter is mad at Daniel again because they caught on to that CH interview about Daniel being offered the same contract as Max, icl I'm also bitter about it. I wish he wasn't so rash in 2018

It's easy to be bitter in hindsight but the reality is more nuanced, had it not been recorded and internationally broadcast, what happened to Daniel in 2018 would be flat out unbelievable by ANY standard lol. Daniel had mechanical issues in every. single. weekend in 2018 <- this is not a hyperbole or a joke (more on this later). He ran multiple races with a b spec engine -> 20 bhp down on Max. At no point in 2018 did Max run a lower engine power than Daniel. Daniel incurred 8 dnfs, 4 back of the grid starts for mechanical issues and 6 grid drops in total where as Max had *1*[one]. This isn't even accounting for failures in quali or free practice that would have compromised his set up or race prep. Daniel's car accounted for 92% of Red Bull failures in comparison to Max's 8%.

Christian's cunty "he ran from a fight" comment stung particularly hard because it was Christian who made MULTIPLE public apologies to Daniel in 2018 on the ground that he wasn't given a chance to compete. Christian would apologise to Daniel again when Max won in Mexico, even though Daniel had an uncharacteristic outburst in the media pen during that famous "The car is cursed. I can't wait to give it to Pierre" This isn't even diving into the dubious & predatory RB contract practices. At 28 years old, to quote Christian "It's the first time he's effectively a free agent."

You look back at it now and lament it as a bad call but even by Christian's admission Red Bull were on the verge of selling the team for 4 years. Honda was coming in, I know it's easy to praise Honda now but Honda single handedly sent Alonso into early retirement. He found working with them untenable + said it cost him his love for the sport. Those were the lingering images of Honda as they re-entered the sport, the team who electrocuted Alonso then bled his love for racing dry.

If you weren't around in 2018 let me give you a run down so horrific it looks like a joke:

Australia - Race: 3 Place grid penalty

Bahrain - Race: DNF - Battery Failure

China - Free Practice 3: Gear box issue with complete engine turbo failure. Misses FP3 entirely, no quali set up prepared. He would go on to win that race from p6

Baku - Race: DNF - Collision with Max. Racing incident.

Monaco - Race: partial MGU-K failure. He would go on to win that race with drastic loss of power.

Canada - Free Practice 2 - Power unit issue, misses majority of the session.

France - Race: front wing failure. (it disintegrated)

Austria - Race: DNF - Retires from p3 with MGU-k Failure

Britain - Quali: DRS failure. No DRS activation, still qualifies p6 behind Max in p5

Germany - Race: Back of grid start + DNF - Takes new engine for the weekend, starts p19 + has lower power spec A ICE approximately 20 BHP down on B spec that Max was running. Daniel climbed upto p5 from p19 but incurs a MGU-k failure and retires.

Hungary - Race: Daniel is forced to run lower power spec A ICE again, 20 BHP down on B spec that Max was running

Spa - Free Practice 1 + DNF: Daniel misses entire session with engine injector issue + Daniel would go on to retire after being driven into on lap 1.

Monza - Race: Back of grid start + DNF. Daniel takes another new engine for weekend (spec C) and incurs another full grid penalty, starts p19. Daniel would go on to climb to p6 before having clutch failure and retiring.

Singapore - Race + Quali + Free practice: During every session in Singapore Daniel has an unresolved spec C engine clipping issue that Red Bull can't fix.

Russia - Race + Free Practice 1 - Daniel misses FP1 due to mechanical issues. Daniel takes another engine penalty, starts p18

Japan - Race + Quali: Daniel incurs throttle actuator failure, misses quali, another back of grid start.

USA - Race: DNF - Battery Failure

Mexico - Race: DNF - clutch Bearing failure + start software clutch issue. Daniel retires the race from P2

Brazil - Race: Daniel takes a 5 Place grid penalty due to new turbo charger replacement. Starts in p11.

Abu Dhabi - Free Practice 3: Misses majority of FP3 with water leak.

Daniel's insanely vulnerable "if racing was the only thing making me happy this year, I would have been miserable" during the last on the sofa with Max was a v apt summary of 2018. To suggest that Daniel fucked up based on the information he had in 2018, namely Daniel undergoing all those problems + knowing RB was flirting with selling the team + Helmut's fuckery + having an out from the RB umbrella for the first time in his career? Your problem isn't with his decision making process, you just wish he was clairvoyant which is an unfair thing to be bitter about

[verysmolnerd]

Dating post NWH Otto

Been wanting to do a hc collection of Otto related stuff if you’ve seen my previous headcanons. But they’re really not HCs as they are more story oriented. :p

First of all, dating him appeared to be off the table. In his mind at a least… Even thought he was no longer seen as an enemy of the public, there is so much suspicion that he’s still evil. Like all reformed criminals are.

Not to mention that since he’s a supervillain, he doesn’t get privacy from the daily bugle. Not to mention finding a job that’s willing to hire him. The robotic arms welded to his back and his criminal record is enough evidence of what his previous experiments did to him.

He can only work for Oscorp which also has a reputation of cranking out scientific orientated supervillains. He’s making a living, but the judgement of others becomes more prominent.

It’s hard to tell at some point. Which is harder? Reforming and reconvening into society or fighting off the actuators and Spider-Man at the same time.

He’s pitied by the public eye or alienated entirely. Nobody takes him seriously, even if he’s never killed a person, nor attempted to. He only wanted to finish his work under the influence of his own work.

Then along came you with a company merger when Oscorp was bought by a larger company.

You never interacted with him, you were in a different department and were far too busy to talk to any of the newer Oscorp employees, which includes a lot of the supervillains.

It’s not like you wanted to talk to them. They’re still people, not zoo animals like your colleagues assume they are. So the best way of showing respect in your eyes is to give them the space they needed. If they want to talk to you, then they’d find you.

However, neither of you expected to meet outside of work.

Of all places you’d meet…. a public library. Informal, tired, and bags under your eyes. It’s almost like a college love story, while one partner sacrifices their grades in order to help another graduate with honors.

He was holding a book by Neil deGrasse Tyson and you were holding a three pines book. (Honestly, you though he was Armand with the level of exhaustion you had)

You just stared at each other, Otto even dropped his book. He apologized and then you commented on the book.

So now you’re both sitting in a lounge talking about the type of books you had. Which buds into conversation.

There’s almost a relief in his eyes that you were holding a normal conversation, as if he’s a normal person. He felt seen and purely human only for a moment.

So it’s natural for him to gravitate to you. AKA you see him near your office during work. Whether he needed something, he’d get it from your side of the building just to see you.

You’ve caught him gazing at you from your door window. For a man with four additional arms and eyes, he seemed pretty blind sighted by you and would walk into a water cooler.

So he also starts messaging you via faxes or other mundane office supplies. You’re shocked that he’s using them to lure you into his clutches.

One fax you got was just his phone number. Like that’s anything subtle. Smooth one, Otto. There was also one just asking you out for dinner… you faxed him back.

“Ask me in person and then we’ll talk.” He read aloud. The fact that you’re going to play his silly games is promising on his end. The last person he’s done that to was.. well.. it’s best not to bring up the past… for now.

So when you have him ducking under your door to get in your office with a paper rose (that he folded himself) he’s nervous, and the actuators are giving that away very well. Other than that, he’s very good at hiding emotions.

And now you find yourself sitting across from him at a nice restaurant.

Now that the professionalism line has completely evaporated, you both open up. Otto seems to loosen quite a bit the longer you two were talking.

You ended up closing down the place, and the wait staff were kind enough to remind you that they need to leave.

Then, he ended up spending the night with you. Not wanting to part with you. And you are you to deny that. He intrigues you as you do him.

Then one thing led to another and now you both are sitting on the couch, sharing a bottle of wine.

He trusts you with information that no other human being could have ever known.

Of course he tells you about Rosie. He hesitated at first, but you were quick to reassure him that he could. It was therapeutic almost. To hear about the previous light in his life.

“Oh, you’d love her. She thinks outside of the box. And she always had riddles to tell, never the same ones. She was so smart.”

He’s more vulnerable around you! He trusts you with his life, even though he’s probably protect you more than you can him.

That being, you both move into an apartment and now you’re with him almost every waking moment.

His actuators do a lot of work for him that he doesn’t like doing. The menial tasks that are just awful to him.

He carries you to rooftops to get a view of New York or any other surprise date he’d come up with.

The actuators wrap around you to show his subconscious form of admiration. Sometimes the actuator claws would clamp on your body as a form of kisses or long hugs.

He loves to cook. He knows recipes and often makes the same dinners that Rosie would make him.

You know that woman is happy to see that he’s moved on, the shadows of his past are able to be forgiven.

You also pet his actuators and sometimes use them as an extension to his hands, so you hold hands with his actuators.

He also uses the arms to pick you up for a proper kiss. He’s super affectionate if you haven’t picked that up already.

He loves to read books to you. Sitting on his lap, snuggled up against him as he reads TS Eliot.

You wear his glasses sometimes, you have no idea how he can see. He’s blind pretty much.

He’s wearing his heart on his sleeve around you, and he loves with all his being.

Treat him nicely, he’s already lost someone before and he’ll go to wits end to make sure that doesn’t happen again.

[eufiemoon]

How to Make: Electronic Wings for Cosplay

Hello Everyone! It's been a while since I last uploaded a written tutorial on here and since I just finished and wore my Dame Aylin cosplay this last weekend it seemed appropriate to jump back in with a tutorial on one of the costume pieces!

Her wings were the star of the show this weekend and I know a lot of people were curious about how I made them! A huge source of knowledge and inspiration behind these wings was this video by Axceleration, I made a few changes to the frame shape and electrical circuitry for mine but her tutorial was a huge stepping stone to give me the confidence to tackle them myself!

Health and Safety:

When working with Sintraboard (as well as other thermoplastics) it is incredibly important you wear a respirator as well as goggles when heating, moulding and cutting it. The fumes this plastic will give off when heated up are no joke! Make sure you're in a well-ventilated space!

Basic tool safety knowledge is also really important! wearing gloves when using power tools can be more dangerous in most situations, so always be aware of where your hands are vs where the tools are. Always cut away from yourself and take things slowly, don't panic.

Electrical safety! You're working with live wires and circuitry! make sure your hands are dry, you aren't touching the bare wires at any point when they are connected to a power source, and if you choose to solder anything, make sure you're wearing heat-proof gloves and a mask in a ventilated space!

Tools

Wire stripper

Screwdriver and wrench

Dremel - I recommend the Dremel 3000 rotary tool personally! Some essential Dremel bits you'll need for this include, a sanding bit, drill bit (smaller or same size as your screws/bolts), and a small/narrow cutting bit. These will usually come with the Dremel!

Heat Gun (A hairdryer will not get hot enough to heat the Sintraboard!!)

Pipe cutter (alternatively you can use a hacksaw for this!)

Hacksaw

Ruler

Scissors (for cutting fabric straps)

Materials

Heat shrink Tubing

2 core electrical wire

switch (you want a three position, six pin switch, like this one, even better if it has the Screws on the pins! otherwise you'll need a soldering kits to solder the wires to the pins.

2x 8AA 12v Battery Holders

2x 12v Linear Actuators (Mine had a stroke length of 100mm)

21.5mm PVC Pipes (I got 2x 3m Lengths)

2x 21.5mm PVC Pipe straight couplers

6mm 8"x12" Sintraboard

Nuts/Bolts/Screws (I used M5 bolts for the base & Actuator connectors and M6 screws to attach the hinges to the pipes! You'll need Washers for every Nut & Bolt!)

Hinges (I used 2.5cm wide hinges that were skinny but long so they would just about fit along the PVC pipe! 3" gate hinges would work!)

50 metre Polythene Jiffy foam roll (in retrospect this was ALOT of foam, you could definitely get away with maybe a 20-30 metre roll! I now have a load leftover XD)

16 AA Batteries (I used 16 and had enough for the whole day with them on, I think They'd probably be enough for another half a day-full day too! but have spares just in case!)

Webbing strap ( I went for grey to match my base suit colour!)

Buckle - as wide as the webbing strap you use!

3 metres of white cotton fabric (or whatever colour wings youre going for!)

Optional

Zipties (for cleaning up the wires)

Lets Go!

Sintraboard is this wonderfully stable thermoplastic that is relatively easy to cut into (with the right tools) and when heated allows you to mould its shape! I started by using a mannequin and heating the Sintraboard with a heat gun for a few minutes to make it pliable, I recommend using gloves for this part as the materials gets VERY HOT! Press the board into the shape of the mannequin's back, taking note of the edges especially! you want this board to sit as comfortably to your body shape as possible as it makes a huge difference to how long you can wearing the wings for in this backplate is comfy!

Once shaped, I placed it against my back to make sure it was a good fit, heating again and making any alterations I needed (again don't place bright hot plastic to your bare skin! wear protective clothes and wait till its slightly cooler to do this, with the help of a friend!). I then took a hacksaw and rounded the corners, before sanding the edges with my Dremel! Try to avoid cutting off loads, just enough to make things less likely to snag.

3. I then cut in four holes, wide enough to feed my webbing strap through, two at the top and one on either side below where my arms would sit! I measured the webbing strap by firstly feeding them through the top holes and pinning them, and then bring the strap over my should to everything sits where it should and seeing where the strap hits the side hole and cutting the length there! you'll also want a strap that attaches across the chest, meeting in the centre with a buckle!

4. After sewing the straps closed I was able to move onto the PVC pipe structure! This may change slightly depending on the finished shape you want but I needed the PVC pipes to come out from inside a breastplate so had a particularly angle as well as character references to work with! I began by heating the pipe over my heat gun and flattening a portion of it under a heavy object so it would sit much more flush against the backboard and sit better underneath my breastplate before moving onto securing the first portion of the structure to the backplate. This mainly involved lots of try-ons and measuring to make sure the angles were correct and symmetrical and was quite fiddly but well-worth the effort! I'll include a diagram of the general shape I went with below:

5. I wanted my wings to be relatively modular for ease of travel so I needed to make sure certain portions of them could come away from other parts easily, so I popped a straight coupler on the top of the pipes that were attach to the breastplate, this also meant I could slot the breastplate over these shorter pipes and wear everything correctly! Then these second pipes slot on and at the other end they are attached via hinges to the longest portion of the pipe 'skeleton', Diagram below:

6. Now that the skeleton was put together, it's time for the electrical stuff! It's a good idea to figure out where your circuit is going to lay on the skeleton - consider if you want the battery packs mounted the the backplate or, like me, put them inside the actual wings in removeable pockets for easy access and removal for battery changes. all your wires will go through the switch so deciding where you want to place that is very important! Mine was placed just over my shoulder on the front side, mounted to the PVC pipe with a metal cover I drilled a hole into to slip the switch through and then drill through the pipe.

I've included another diagram below that explains all the electrical circuitry, including which wires go on which pins on the switch!

Important to note: The linear actuators need to be placed and bolted into the PVC pipes at *exactly* the same angle on each side, any slight deviation will lead to the wings going up wonkily! So take your time and make as many adjustments as necessary.

7. You can extend your wires by adding on the electrical wire, just match the colours, and put heat shrink tubing over the connections to hide the live wires! I ended up zip-tying the wires into organised bundles once the wings were done to help keep everything safe from snags.

8. Now its time for the Wings themselves! I drafted my base pattern by just draping the white cotton fabric I had over the wing when it was fully extended. I then pinned the wings to the shape I wanted them to be along the bottom before cutting along the pins. I ran the fabric through my sewing machine to close the bottom edge, leaving a gap wide enough by the wing base so I could slip the wing on and off, closing it with velcro. I also added little fabric pockets inside of these to hold my battery packs, which also connected via velcro for easy removal!

9. Now that I had a wing base I was able to begin making feathers! I cut out a total of 800 feathers out of polythene jiffy roll for these wings, in 6 different styles and using real life bird wings to dictate the shapes I used and where I placed them. I ended up hot gluing every individual feather onto the white fabric base, going row by row until every side was covered, the wing covers themselves are super light because of the foam feathers and they shine light through them in a really magical way!

Optional: I also ended up going over these feathers with my airbrush and some super light beige paint to help darken the shadows, this is entirely optional and may change depending on the wings you're looking to make!

When in neutral position and in extended position the wings looks like this:

Mine had a wingspan of about 7ft total when fully extended but when in neutral position they were fairly close to my own proportions! mainly staying behind me and weren't much of a problem in a packed con hall!

Photo by: Helloimfran (on Instagram and Twitter)

I hope this tutorial helped and if there are any questions about anything in specific don't hesitate to reach out at eufiemoon@gmail.com or on my instagram or twitter (@eufiemoon)

Happy Crafting!

[holewithinahole]

Tiptoeing the leyline | Otto Octavius x reader

Summary: Back to your universe, Otto captures you while you're distracted. He notices the marks a certain Dr. Olivia Octavius left on you.

Ao3 Link

Warnings: shameless smut, no genitalia specified (reader), no pronouns specified (reader), orgasm denial, overstimulation, unsafe sex, rough sex, creampie, non-native writer

And yes, I wrote a somewhat sequel to my Olivia fic, after several months. The fixation on Octaviuses is never over, my guy. Again, not beta, I'm not native so very sorry for any weird sentences or mistakes. I'm not 100% happy with it but I'll never be so, enjoy! (I just have to embrace the fact that I'm a slut for them.)

You should have seen it coming. From a mile away, honestly.

It’s easier to convince yourself that you’ve simply been tired. Even someone with super strength and freaky spider powers had to draw the line at multi-dimensional travel and two days of non-stop fighting. Especially when it involved someone as ruthless as Dr. Olivia Octavius. Your imaginary audience could laugh all they want, but you dared anyone to try putting their entire focus on swinging webs and punches to a woman who had, mere hours ago, rocked your world so hard you saw stars. And see stars you certainly did when that bus hit you square in the chest during the battle inside the collider.

Ergo, you blame Olivia.

Your body is sore as fuck, and you're littered with bruises and a nasty bite mark on the nape of your neck. What’s the point of having rapid recovery if you don’t even have time for it? You also blame your inner sense of justice (you were aware of the irony of fucking a supervillain and then talking about justice). Disappearing from your universe for a few days didn’t stop the villains of the week from robbing the poor corner-of-the-street shopkeepers, and the super ones from plotting their evil schemes. No rest for the wicked? What about the brave, the awesome, the work-devoted?

“Am I boring you or something?”

You glance back at Otto. He looks appalled behind his small sunglasses. It’s almost funny.

“Oh no, please keep talking,” you say evenly, “‘gives me more time to come up with an attack plan.”

What’s more difficult to admit to yourself is how totally out of it you are when it comes to anything Octavius-related. You’ve been happy living in your little world of delusion before the mind-altering and deliciously traumatizing altercation with Olivia. But now? Every taunt, every tilt of the head looks like an invitation. Knowing there were alternate universes was pretty mind-altering as well, come to think of it. 

“I’m curious to see how you plan to attack me in your current situation.”

Right. You push against the vibranium shackles holding you hostage in a chair. It was more for show if you were being honest; you doubted you could break free even with hundred-percent strength. Instead, you stare at the dirty walls of Otto’s new lair, trying not to focus too much on the flow of images his shiny actuators brought to the surface.

“Do not bother.” He lets out a bark of a laugh. “You’re completely at my mercy.”

You’ll give it to him though, he has been swift and efficient when he cornered you in a back alley and knocked you unconscious. In your defense, you did fight back against the actuator pinning you against the wall, but he said something and the next second, everything had faded to black. It was something insubstantial, something stupid and stereotypically evil like he’s famous for. Totally not something that made your heart skip a beat.

“I have to say,” he says conversationally, “I’m disappointed by how easy it was to catch you.” With two mechanical arms digging into the ground, he looms over you, the pans of his coat flapping against his naked skin. “You’re usually not that compliant.”

Don’t you fucking dare blush.

You tear your eyes away from his chest. “I was just bored out of my mind. Your tricks are getting old, Otto.”

He chuckles. “It worked in the end, didn’t it? Even if it wasn’t the desired effect.”

“If it wasn’t, why pull the same shit over and over again?”

“For fun.”

It leaves your mouth open dumbly. You scoff. “Failing is not what I’d call fun.”

Otto stares before lowering himself to the ground, soles tapping against the wooden floorboard. You’re trying your damn best not to meet his gaze, even protected behind your mask.

“What’s gotten into you?” He asks. “You’re never this… serious.”

It gives you a whiplash. “Uh?”

“Did I break something?” He muses to himself.

You certainly didn’t expect him to notice you were out of it, or care about it for that matter. Perhaps you’ve underestimated the man’s perception.

“All fine and dandy. Thanks for asking, Doc’.” Your tone is way too even to your liking.

You’ve always been a terrible actor and he sees right through your bluff. Which is saying something since he can’t even see your face. You make another attempt at breaking free but it only makes your suit rub against all of your bruises and cuts. Your wince makes the good Doctor raise a questioning eyebrow.

“So, I did hurt you,” he says, disbelieving.

“You kidding, right? You punch like a little girl.” That’s a big lie and also misogynistic.

Fuck, maybe Olivia was right.

You’re suddenly assaulted by a strong smell of damp leather as two fat digits slip underneath the edge of your mask and pull. “Hey! The fuck you think you doing—“

Does anyone grasp the concept of anonymity ‘round here? “Fuck, Doc’, I thought you were a bit more chivalrous than that.”

Otto doesn’t answer, inspecting your face. It’s making you uncomfortable how much he’s staring. Did he expect a model or something?

“I wasn’t expecting this kind of hurting,” he says. You frown, confused, but when he uses one finger on your chin to slowly turn your face away, you realize with horror he’s looking at the beautiful purple claim Olivia left on your neck.

“What—“ you sputter, withdrawing as much as you can. “That’s not what you’re thinking.”

“And what am I thinking, exactly?” Otto asks, evenly.

What is he thinking exactly? He barely reacted to your naked face, not even to gloat at exposing your biggest secret. And what do you want him to be thinking? That you have no game at all? What would be the point? If anything, you should be proud to show him you get any action.

He interrupts your inner monologue: “I wasn’t expecting the reason for your scattered brain to be sex.” You blush bright red. “I thought you had more self-control than that.”

His lips stretches, deliberately slow, displaying rows of straight incisors and sharp canines. “Unless you’ve been fighting an oversized bat.”

It would have been preferable at the moment. “Yes. You guessed it. How smart.”

Otto chuckles. “It probably wasn’t any good if you look this tense.”

“I have a good reason to be tense at the moment,” you hiss.

“I make you feel that way? My, I’m flattered.”

“You wish, Doc’.”

His hand glides on your neck, wrapping his fingers around your throat. A large digit presses down on the mark. “Perhaps, I do.”

Your bruised skin burns at the pressure but your mind burns even brighter processing what Otto just admitted; what he could be imagining as he traces the uneven blood crusts left by the sharp teeth of his counterpart. And your silence is even more telling; somehow even more than the quickening of your breathing, your pulse confessing everything to his touch.

“What do you want?” you struggle to say, mouth heavy.

He smiles, almost gently, but his eyes are predatory. You’re not unfamiliar with the look on his face and isn’t that a thrill. With Olivia, you could have used her actuators as an excuse for your actions; not that you had any intention to though. With Otto, however, the shackles are quickly removed and the raised eyebrow he offers looks like an opportunity for flight.

You don’t take it.

There he stands, the reason for sleepless nights, the unhealthy obsession you can’t wrap your mind around. He looks down and it feels intimate, almost natural if you could ignore your surroundings, the sensation of your suit, and the four red eyes watching you closely.

His fingers are back on the bruise, ignoring your question. “Who gave you this?”

You’re about to lie through your teeth when he adds: “No one important, I’m sure?”

Your spit is thick when you swallow. “Self-centered much?”

He laughs. “You don’t have to answer. You’ll forget them soon enough.”

Doubtful, you think. At the very least, you’ll be haunted forever by the juxtaposition of two universes. “Keep telling yourself that.”

You’re still frozen in the chair, free but still bound by the desire running rampant under your skin and his long fingers around your neck. He’s not even bothered by your comment; Otto has always been radiating confidence, and you know that if one person could erase Olivia from your mind, even for a moment, it’d be him. Fittingly. Her alternate self with whom you share a deeper bond, a long-term rivalry, a never-ending attraction…

He straightens up, hand leaving your neck and you feel a lot colder. In a smooth movement, he takes off his glasses, and you’re assaulted by the gentleness of his brown eyes. The same eyes you kept seeing alongside Olivia’s green ones.

“I want to erase all of this tension.” You realize he finally answered you when he says: “Now tell me, little spider, what do you want?”

There’s no way around it, is it? You can’t just admit you’ve been chilling in an alternate dimension with his alternate self and that you’ve been thinking about him every single minute spent running away and fighting. You can’t just admit you had the best sex of your life with a women-him who confronted you to the extent of the absurd and frankly unethical feelings you distil for your archenemy. You can’t tell him you’ve been fantasizing about the weight of his body, the strength of his hands, the thrill hidden behind each actuator… The thoughts are too much to bear or explain.

“You.”

The grin he gives you is enough of an acknowledgement.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Broad palms stretch across your back, feeling the dryness of your skin, dipping fingers in the tender joints of your muscles as you sigh. His silence almost feels reverent; a stark contrast with Olivia’s rough handling. She spent her time hovering over you, close but never touching, wallowing in the superiority induced by the distance between you. Otto however seems intent on pressing as much skin as possible to yours, enveloping you completely.

“Your back is surprisingly devoid of scars,” he comments.

Your haughty chuckle dies in your throat, distracted by the warmth of his hand snaking to your abdomen to pull you closer. “I always face my enemies,” you answer after a second or two.

His petting stops. “How brave.” The press of clammy skin and well-worn leather melt away the chill raised by his exploring hands. Not entirely because his breath bounces off the crook of your neck, and it’s so easy to get lost in the clash between warmth and cool. “What does that say about me?”

You understand belatedly the insinuation of your previous statement. “Is it trust?” He taunts, and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

“Hell no,” you fire back, “you’re the last person I could trust.”

It’s a lie; you’ve met far shadier and far more morally reprehensible enemies than Dr. Otto Octavius. “I’m offended.” His fingers are running higher on your torso, leaving chills behind like a powder trail ready to combust. You’re not certain you’ll be able to survive this wildfire. “Killing you would be a waste,” he adds as an afterthought.  

“Yeah, your life would be so boring without me.” You smile, stretching your numb arms.

“Indubitably.” The actuator holding your arms up loosens and your heart tightens at the admission. “Although—“

One fat finger from a hand you’ve, regrettably, forgotten press forcefully on your sex; its outline peaking scandalously through your suit. Your gasp is silent but your whole body tenses up against his chest. “—the same could be said about you.”

You swallow a snarky remark. Anything you say could incriminate you further, and your body already does an amazing job on its own. Thankfully, the Doctor is happy to keep the conversation alive: “Could we call this a truce then?”

You wouldn’t call a quick dirty fuck a truce. It’s a distraction, a wonderfully effective one. “As if!” You scoff. “You’re going to prison after this.”

Another finger joins its lonely mate, rubbing in tandem with the spandex against your pelvis. The suit is designed for comfort and to avoid chaffing despite being skin-tight (which you’ve never been more thankful for at the moment), but it’s not an efficient protection against the softness of his caress. You’ll soon want to rip the offending fabric off to press more forcefully on teasing fingers, but for now, you’ll hang on to the last thread of reason the suit provides you. Who knows if you’re not actually dreaming?

“You’re in no position to promise such things, I’m afraid.” He’s right and there’s nowhere else you’d like to be at the moment.

Otto retrieves his hand. “Hey! Don’t—” Your mouth snaps shut but it’s already too late.

You feel him straightening up, leaving your sweaty back to the cold air of the room. You can’t see him but you hear his chuckle and his actuators rattling.

“I see,” he says, “you’re just desperate.”

“Desperate for what? You?” Better dedicating yourself completely to the monkey business. “I’ve had the best fuck of my life two days ago, I’m not desperate.”

The claw holding your arms up retracts and despite the physical retrieve it offers you, you can’t help but wonder if you’ve played a role a bit too well. The shining eye of the actuator stares directly at your face, and you watch it stretch with dubious eyes— “Such a clever mouth.” – until it pushes you against naked skin, squeezing you back tight against Otto’s body…

“I’ve always thought a good fuck could humble you greatly.”

…and his unmistakable excitement. The remaining slivers of coherence leave you at the vulgarity of his sentence and the tantalizing, unique snap of his hips.

“Always?” Your voice is lost in a whisper.

His breath hitches, you’re almost certain of it. His nose brushes against your shoulder, and a hand snakes back over your abdomen as the actuator retracts, holding you even closer. It’s funny how you already are near losing your mind. Your eyes are open but you barely see, only the dark blur of the metallic beam on which you hold on. You’re completely helpless, bent almost in half by the weight of his body, trembling legs and shaking from anticipation; heady from his admission.

Otto hums and the sound vibrates through you. “Fuck, look at you.”

Desperate for the touch of a madman, two seconds away from panting like a dog from how fast your heart is beating, shameful…

“How could I not desire this?” His digits wander in the ridges of your muscles, the dips of your skin. His breath is hot and moist against your shoulder. “You entice me. I can’t wait to make you beg.”

The actuator fixated on your face moves closer, rotating his head in agreement.

“You’ll never hear me be—“

You startle. Another mechanical arm has taken hold of your suit, tugging before tearing it apart like a sheet of paper. A still coherent voice at the back of your mind fustigates you for ruining two perfectly good suits in less than seventy-two hours; the remaining ninety percent short-circuits. You realize, with no amount of dignity left, that your skin is dripping wet. “Shit.”

“Would you look at that?” You can’t look. You don’t want to look. “How flattering.”

The glide of his hand is disgustingly arousing, and you moan unabashedly when he finally – finally – relents and touches your neglected sex. It’s too good to be normal. Lost in your breathy whines, you think about Olivia and her sweet torture session. Even she hasn’t been able to tease such a strong reaction out of you this quickly. How fucked up are you?

Twice you left your body in the hands of an Octavius for experimentation, and you’re afraid this time will be the one that’ll leave you crawling back for more.

“So close so soon?” Otto tuts. “Disappointing.”

His touch stops altogether. You groan. “As lovely as it sounds to make you come more than once, I do intend on experimenting a little more with you.”

Damned Octavius-es! Loving to hear themselves talk, loving to drag things torturously slow…

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” you pant, closing your eyes to gather your thoughts.

“You’re a degenerate, aren’t you?”

He steps away, and you hear the squeaking of leather falling to the ground. You yearn to turn around and watch him in all his half-naked glory. Instead, a metallic arm wraps around your ankle, pushing your legs apart. You feel exposed, the cold air of the warehouse striking your wet skin in an overwhelming contrast. It gets worse when Otto puts a wide palm on the curve of your ass, spreading you and observing the way you part in an embarrassing, squelching noise.

You have no time for a witty comeback: he presses one thick finger into you. You gasp. The intrusion is more surprising than hurting, it distracts you enough from your upending orgasm. His fingers curl inside you, so warm, spreading you open with ease.

He hums pensively. “You feel tight. You’re certain you’re not lying when bragging about your last date?”

A date. You manage not to scoff. “There are other ways to have sex. You’re just old-school.”

Otto chuckles. “More fun for me.”

His mouth is back to your ear, and his affected state is unmistakable. “Let’s see how long you can last before you beg me to fuck your pretty hole.”

The next minutes are excruciating. You lose your voice and all sense of coherency. He fucks you harshly, curling, twisting, scissoring his fingers as you pant hot, condensed air. You could have ignored it (you could have) if he hadn’t been alternating between making sure you were loose for him, and stroking you ‘til you’re leaking enough to use your precum for his mistreatment. And all this time, you were being watched closely by the red eye of his actuator, held tight by two others.

Two delayed orgasms later, and three fingers deep in you, you are near your breaking point. You’ve lost track of time, lost control over your vocal chords and you’re secretly glad you’re not in an apartment right now. The neighbors might have complained.

“Nothing to say?” Otto asks. You can hear his shit-eating grin.

“F-Fuck. No.”

“As you wish.”

He spits directly on your fluttering opening before stuffing four fingers in. You definitely scream this time.

“Otto!” You don’t even recognize the sound of your own voice.

He hums in fake interest. “What is it, love?”

Your heart beats even faster. You hate him for that. He thrusts against your walls. “Oh, fuck!”

“Not even close, darling.”

Your moan sounds devastated. His other hand snakes to your front, stroking you with clever fingers and you feel yourself overflowing. You know you could come from this alone, but your half-delirious brain somehow craves more. You want the press of his soft body on your back again, and his bruising mouth on your neck. Perhaps even his teeth right where Olivia marked you. You want his warm hands on your aching skin, on the map of scars he left on you.

“Now,” he sighs, “what do we—“

“Please.”

His stillness attests to his surprise. You share the sentiment but you’re this close to losing your goddamn mind; you don’t really care anymore except for the chance of feeling him inside you.

“What do you want?” he hisses, stroking you impossibly harder.

“You,” you cry out. Otto disengages with an irritated sound. “Wait!”

He grabs your chin, almost choking you in the process. You realize your cheeks are wet. “I’ll leave you like this, you hear me?” His voice is harsh, raspy. “Now, be very specific, pet.”

“Fuck me!” What a pathetic display you make. “I can’t take this anymore.”

You look directly into the actuator’s eye. It gives you a thrill. “Please, Doctor.”

You register distantly his labored breathing, the slight tremor in his fingers when he releases you to get rid of his trousers. Despite having been thoroughly prepared, the filthy glide of his cock stretches you wider, reaching deeper parts of yourself. Your legs tremble and the only reason you’re not collapsing on the ground is the tight hold his actuators have on you. His arms wrap around your torso, and the furnace of his skin turns you to embers.

“Come on, just give it to me!” Even in your tormenting need, you somehow find it in you to be bossy. “Otto—“

He grabs your face forcefully, turning it towards him. His strong nose is pressed in your right cheek, and the encompassing heat of his breath tickles the corner of your mouth. You want to kiss his plump lips so badly.

“From now on, it’s Doctor Octavius for you.”

The stretch burns from lack of lubrication, but he plunges into you without any concerns. The snap of his hips is so strong you topple forward in a pitiful cry. Otto fucks you harshly, frantically while holding your mouth close to his. He pants through his nose and you respond in kind by moaning loudly. If you had more time, you’d have wished for Olivia to wreck you like this, to have you feel her skin as she fucks you. Her fingers, her actuators, anything to make you feel this full.

“Doc’,” you choke, twisting your neck to partially meet his chapped lips, “harder.”

“You greedy little thing.”

The actuators at your legs disentangle themselves, planting in the ground in a loud crack. The combined strength of Otto’s hips and his mechanical allies pushes you completely against the metal beam. You’re glad, unable to hold yourself upright as you’re assaulted by this indescribable force.  Your screams speak volumes:

“Ah! Ah, shit!”

He’s now groaning against your cheek, sweat gathering on his forehead and running on your skin. The whole ordeal is disgusting and you want more. You need more.

Greedy. You’re so greedy.

In an unconscious movement, your numb hand releases the beam to bury itself in his damp bangs. It elicits a downright animalistic snarl from Otto, so you tug. Hard.

“Fuck,” he hisses. It sounds like pain but his hips shake, losing his rhythm.

The embers he created coil in your abdomen. Your limited movements don’t stop you from pushing against him, chasing the spark that’ll finally ignite you. You mutter disjointed sentences – ‘come on’s, ‘so good’s, and debauched iterations of his name – which he answers with more groans and moans of his own. You cling to him, breathing in the strong essence of leather and sweat, twisting your neck, even more, to meet his lips in an almost kiss, anchoring him closer and deeper until—

“Break down, sweetheart.”

He bites the scream you let out. It’s his words, this final act of stimulation, this echo of another universe, that lights you up. He catches your tears with his lips and you come, powerless against the intensity of the sensation. Otto follows you, pumping his spend inside you for what seems like forever. Your own clings to your trembling skin. You try to regulate your senses, still focused on the twitching of your muscles, on the throbbing length of his cock and his ragged breathing.

The actuators retract and you expect him to do the same but he stays anchored to you. The nuzzling of his nose against your cheek somehow manages to freak you out more than the aftermath of this whole conundrum. Your fingers in his hair relax, scratching his scalp in response to his caresses. Your neck hurts from the unusual position you force it into, but it’s the least of your worries when his mouth is right there.

Sadly, he steps away, slipping out from you in a deafeningly wet noise. Your legs fail you but you hold onto the metal beam, now warm under your touch. The contraction of your muscles has the unfortunate effect of letting his hot cum leek out of you, cascading along your thighs. Otto lets out a contemplative hum.

“You paint a pretty picture, I must say.”

His thumb dips into your flesh, spreading your sensitive entrance as more of him comes out of you.

You huff, straightening up. “Hands off.”

Your suit is in shambles on the ground; you look at it dejectedly. Olivia had the intelligence of divesting you of it, not ripping it to shreds. Men.

“Hard to take me to prison in this state, right?”

You turn to glare at him but you end up gaping at the two actuators throwing Otto’s leather coat on your shoulders.

“Thanks.” You try to summon your usual carefree attitude but you find yourself unable to. You’ve somehow been more easy-going with your life on the line and under the near-psychotic gaze of Olivia than you are now. You wonder what that says about you. “This doesn’t change anything. Next time, I’ll kick your ass so hard they’ll have to drag you to your cell.”

He laughs lowly. “’Sounds promising.”

He’s not insinuating—

You clear your throat, adjusting the coat around you to shield you from the cold seeping into your bones. You feel uneasy being watched so closely by three pairs of eyes. Otto hands you something: the ruffled mask he snatched off before. You take it.

“You know that the purpose of a mask is to hide your face?” you mutter, stuffing it inside one of his pockets.

He shrugs. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“…Sorry, what?”

It’s how you wear the mask that matters? Perhaps it’s better off… sometimes.

[my-writings-and-musings]

hi!! could I request a tfe bumblebee x bot! reader who is also in hiding, and she stops by on occasion to check on the Terrans? No stress if you can't :) Thank you!!!

Oooooooh definitely! I made it especially soft and romantic because we need more soft and romantic Earthspark Bee. Thank you for the ask!

You'd sent a message ahead regarding your impending arrival, contacting Bumblebee through the encrypted channel the two of you shared to let him know you'd be moving through the area and hoped he'd be free for a visit, and as always the enthusiasm in his reply had warmed your spark. It wasn't as if you were any less excited, but you were a little worn down after covering thousands of miles in mere days. Being on the run made stops like these quite hard to set up safely.

There was little worry in your spark now though, and as you finally saw the warm glow of a cozy home shining through the dark forest you were beyond thrilled to send the message of your impending arrival. Bumblebee replied in the affirmative almost instantaneously, and you couldn't stop smiling as you grew closer with every step. The kids would be there as well, and you were confident they'd have a million questions about your travels and even more stories of their own adventure to share. No amount of exhaustion could temper your enthusiasm to meet with the family after so many long months away.

The rumble of an engine caught your audial, and you arrived at a gap in the trees just in time to see a yellow sports car zooming in your direction. Brief, instinctive alarm gave way to confusion when the vehicle drew close enough for you to recognize a very familiar paint job.

"Bee?" you said as he skidded to a halt on the grass, tires struggling for purchase before he transformed and stumbled into a run with the momentum. Looking too enthusiastic to feel awkward, his bright blue optics met yours, and everything beyond the mech you loved melted away. You were running to meet him before you even knew you were moving.

"Y/N!" he said as the two of you collided with a clank for a long overdue hug. Feeling his frame against yours all but melted away the tension of the past few months, your actuators relaxing save for the tightness with which you wrapped your arms about him and held on for dear life. Every part of him felt like home, his voice everything you didn't know you needed as he whispered into your audial. "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too..." you sighed, so content you could have stayed there for hours just soaking in his presence. It took a moment for uncertainty to cut through the blissful reunion, especially as you realized it was about nine people short of what you'd been expecting. Figuring they were all still in the house or the Dugout, you pulled your helm back to face him with a raised optic ridge and a perplexed smile. "But why drive all the way over here? I was making my way to the house to meet you and the kids."

Bumblebee blushed at the question, embarrassment briefly lighting up his cheeks before he cleared his vents to answer. "I know, and they've got a ton of new things to show you, Hashtag probably has a few days worth of footage saved up." he explained with equal pride and amusement, making you chuckle as you imagined the impromptu movie night that was waiting for you. Softening his expression once more, the Scout looked to the side, holding you closer but speaking quietly. "But I... wanted a few minutes with you. Just the two of us."

The open vulnerability from the usually private mech briefly made your optics widen in surprise, but you recovered and closed them to bring your forehelm forward and tap it against his, a tender gesture of intimacy between bots. Bumblebee returned it with a tiny sigh, savoring your presence as much as you did his. In a few minutes the two of you would head for the Dugout and reunite with the family for what would be a delightful evening of games and catching up, but for now, the two of you were just going to enjoy the quiet together. There was no way to know when you'd next have the chance...

[metashard]

Rick Sanchez Imotekh arranged marriage Orizyn crackplot seed bulb (469 words (nice))

Orikan felt his shoulders lock in place as Imotekh took one pauldron in each hand and twisted the cryptek to face him. There was something intense in the phaeron's oculars, as though each were a lantern whose shutter had been flung back to reveal the fire within.

“Orikan,” he rumbled, “we are three quadrillion dollars in debt, Orikan. I need you to- I need you to marry that man. I have seen Gheden, and read of the wonders of Solemnace - he's loaded.”

“My phaeron, does our economy really-”

“The Mephrit are sending a delegation. They know that they cannot best me in outright battle, so now they're planning on burying me in contract law.” His grip tightened. Orikan tried not to flinch as he felt the outer layers of his necrodermis crackle under the strain. “Half a quadrillion of that debt is supposed to be for crypteks based in their systems. They’re going to kill me with lawyers if I can’t get them that money. I already had to deal with one set of bad knees, Orikan, I can’t have them busting these too!”

Some of Orikan’s typical irritation began to leak through his fear. “Well, what do you want me to do about it? Steal from him?”

“Dead gods, no, not more legal charges. I want you to marry him for the cash.” Imotekh pulled Orikan close then, and gestured to the horizon with his Gauntlet of Fire. “Think about it, Orikan. Just spend a few years on Solemnace-”

“Years?!”

“- siphon off a bit of moolah, get treated like royalty - oh, don't give me that look, I've seen the two of you in a room together. Make it look believable, usual political marriage slop. I’ll work on getting us cozied up to Krispekh on my side, then boom, you get to divorce him and run back here with the alimony. You can even make the breakup as ugly as you want. All you have to do is play nice and get pampered for a few years.”

“One of us will kill the other within a decan.”

“You couldn't kill each other with ten thousand years of close contact. Forgive me for not believing you for a damn second. Anyway, your ship should be ready to leave in two days.”

Orikan's vocal actuator caught in a series of blurts and sputters as he repeatedly failed to settle on what to say. Finally, “You’re pimping me out?!”

“Hey now, it's called a marriage of state when royals do it. And I neither expect nor ask you to fuck the man,” another burst of static from Orikan, “just avoid killing him until I can angle this whole thing into a decent deal with his phaeron. Sound good?”

“No?!”

“Too bad!” Imotekh finally released Orikan's shoulder with a squeal of metal on metal. “I'll send the wraiths to help you pack. Have fun!”

[illiana-mystery]

Here's a little something for my mutual @lost-in-the-forest-again. She was sick recently, so I wrote this fluffy little sick fic for her...

Scientifically Accurate Angel

Plot: During a walk around Manhattan to clear his head, Otto stumbles across a sick woman that's passed out on the sidewalk. Moved with compassion, he and the actuators gather her and her belongings and bring her to their new hideout. But Otto soon realizes that he's beginning to develop feelings for this strange woman, due to how much she reminds him of Rosie.

SFW, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Cuddling, Budding Love, Awkward Flirting, Nursing Back to Health

Taglist: @goodoldcharley, @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky, @braindead94, @curbitkirby, @freddiefredfive, @writingkitten, @iobsessoverfictionalmen

---

The blistering pain of your sudden headache rang through your skull and cranium, suddenly waking you up in an unknown location.

You gently blink, trying not to irritate your headache more. But as you do, you get better sight of the room you're in.

It was a quaint little space, but staged like a cozy hotel room in the middle of the city.

The walls were a warm chestnut and the bed you found yourself in was plush and wide, decorated with earthy bedding.

Ahead of you was a small desk and whiteboard covered with equations. And next to that was a dresser and a TV atop of it. But your eyes squinted when you noticed a light blinking as loud footsteps cratered the floor below you.

Eyes still squinted, you jolted a bit when you noticed a curious actuator bulging out at you.

Were you in Doc Ock's hideout?

You didn't really have time to really think about it before the actuator gently pushed you down on the bed and pulled the covers over you again. It gently patted your shoulder after, before disappearing in the corner where the light flashed again.

"She's awake?" you heard a gruff voice ask. "Does she seem stable?"

But there was no answer.

"Oh, good. I was worried," he answered back to silence.

You were more than puzzled, but pretended to be asleep when he finally revealed himself from the lit-up corner.

He was just as big and tall as you figured, but almost teddy bear like. His dark brunette hair was all over his head, his cheeks were red flushed from the cold, and in his hand was a bag of medicine and other remedies for you.

Although you didn't know that yet.

"Looks like she fell back to sleep, Flo," he said with a little giggle. "She's quite beautiful. Reminds me of my Rosie."

Flo rubbed his cheek after he said that, knowing he would cry if she didn't.

"Thanks, Flo," he said, making the actuator buzz happily. "We should let her rest some more. I'll tend to her once she's up again."

The actuator nodded.

"Glad we're on the same page. Now back to my work."

Five minutes later, you finally woke fully up again. You blinked and saw he was focused on his whiteboard, writing more equations down.

He looked so cute focused, you almost didn't want to bother him. However, Flo beat you to it.

She immediately noticed you were awake again and notified Otto. Swiftly, he turned around and just smiled at you before making his way over to the bed.

"I'm glad you're awake," he said, softly caressing your face. "I was so worried."

"How did I end up here?" you asked, holding your throbbing head.

"We found you laying in the street," he answered. "We thought you were dead at first until Moe felt a pulse. So we gathered you and your belongings and brought you here."

"Oh, I didn't realize I passed out. I had to leave work early because of my throbbing headache and body aches."

"You might have the flu," Otto suggested. "But that's okay. I got a couple of different medicines from Duane Reade to take care of you."

"Oh, thank you. But I don't want to burden you. Seems like you're busy."

"Nonsense," he assured. "I don't mind. Unless you have someone at home that can take care of you."

"No," you solemnly answered. "It's only me and a sad studio apartment."

"Then it's settled. You can stay here until you get well," he happily said. "I also bought some soup if you would like some. Maybe it will help you gain some energy back."

"Soup does sound good. But why are you being so kind to me?" you asked, acting ignorant to his comment earlier.

"I feel it's a way for me to make up for my wrongdoings. I want to help mankind again, even if that means starting with helping you get better."

You blushed.

"Thanks."

"No problem," he said as he squeezed your hand and kissed it. "Now lie back down. I'm gonna go make that soup for you and get that medicine together."

"Okay," you said, obeying his command.

"Flo, keep her company," he said as she remained while he turned the corner.

"Hi again, Flo," you greeted, before she buzzed and flashed yellow. You were confused, until she laid against your stomach.

You giggled, but pet her. However, you didn't realize that Otto felt that too.

"Ooh, that tickles," he exclaimed.

"Wait, you felt that?"

"I feel whatever they feel. They're attached to my spine," he explained as he began to cook the soup.

"Oh, right. I'll stop then," you said, before Flo started whining.

"Flo likes your touch. It's fine. You can keep petting her. I'll live."

"Umm, okay," you moaned as you kept petting the actuator. She joyfully purred, cuddling even closer to you.

"She's cute," you said.

"Thank you. They're basically curious puppies now since I have a new inhibitor chip. They love interacting with new humans. I'm glad she likes you already, but Flo is the kindest one after all."

"I can tell."

"Your soup is almost done," he announced. "What medicine would you like to take? I got Motrin, Tylenol, Sudafed, or Benedryl."

"Give me a Tylenol," you replied. "Is it cold and flu?"

"And fast acting."

"Perfect," you say before the pot starts to sizzle on the stove.

"Soup's done," he announced. "Small bowl?"

"Yes, please," you answered back.

"Alright," he replied. "And I need two Tylenols...thank you, Moe. Okay, I'm coming back in."

You giggled, trying not to blush again when you saw him walking in with a tray, his chest now covered over with an apron.

Gently, he placed the tray over your lap after Flo moved and sat down by your side.

"Would you like me to feed it to you or can you manage?"

"I mean I can manage, but I don't mind you feeding me."

He giggled.

"Okay," he hummed as he grabbed the spoon. "Here comes the plane!"

"I'm not a child," you playfully huffed.

"Compared to me, you are," he chuckled before he properly fed you your first bite. "How old are you anyway?"

"30," you replied. "And you? You're probably like what...35? 40?"

He laughed.

"You're too kind. I'm technically 68," he answered back.

"Technically?"

"Yeah, weird multiversal travel stuff I recently went through. I got pulled from the past when I was 51 and then brought to this present where I would technically be 68."

"Hmm, weird," you hummed. "I don't really understand time travel. That's why I work in fashion."

"So that's what you do for a living?"

"Yeah, I'm an apprentice of Laney Valenci, the new heir of the Valenci fashion brand."

"Valenci? Oh, you mean that brand Norman Osborn likes so much? Hmm, small world."

You giggled.

"I didn't know he was a fan. I only design the womenswear though."

"I see," he pondered. "Also I didn't get your name. I'm Otto."

"Nice to formerly meet you, Otto. I'm Samantha, but everyone calls me Sam."

"What a beautiful name," he cooed, making you smile and blush.

"Thanks. Are you always charming?"

He blushed.

"Not always. I learned a lot from my late wife, bless her soul."

"I'm so sorry," you said, gently touching his hand.

"It's okay. I know she's in a better place," he assured. "Now let's get back to feeding you."

"Okay," you chirped.

He fed you some more of the soup before you finally asked him what you had been pondering for a while.

"What kind of project are you working on? What's with all of the equations?"

"Would you like me to dumb it down for you?" he teased.

"Yes," you moaned before Flo snaked over to comfort you with a cheek rub.

He chuckled.

"I'm working on a sustainable generator that is powered by green energy," he explained. "Generators can cause a lot of pollution, so I want to make one that won't."

"That's fascinating," you replied. "I assume you've made some progress."

"Not as much as I would like, but I'm starting to cook with gas," he said, feeding you another spoonful of soup. "But I desperately needed a break and Flo thinks that me taking care of you will help clear my head a bit."

"Oh," you said as you pet Flo again. "Thank you."

The actuator buzzed against your hand in response.

"She says you're welcome."

You smiled.

"One more spoonful left and then you have to take your Tylenol."

"Will it make the medicine go down?" you jokingly asked.

"You're a Sound of Music fan?"

"No," you confirmed, before taking your last slurp of soup. "It was just a cheap joke to get a reaction from you. Did it work?"

He laughed.

"I guess it did," he admitted. "But now I'm curious, what musical movie adaptation do you like?"

"Phantom of the Opera," you answer.

"Hmm, no hesistation," he observed. "But excellent taste. I have one of the adaptations on DVD. We can watch it together."

"Okay, but only if you cuddle with me," you boldly said, looking him right in the eye.

His face became redder than a tomato and he froze.

You wanted to cuddle with him?

He couldn't believe it.

Why would a pretty young woman like you want to cuddle with a mentally wrecked, old, mad scientist like him?

"I didn't even give you the medicine yet and you already sound loopy."

You laughed.

"I mean it, Otto. I would like to cuddle with you while we watch the movie."

"Alright," he relented before he gathered the Tylenol in his palm. "But now it's time to take your medicine."

"Okay!" you chirped before he fed the pills to you and gave you a sip of water. "Now what?"

"Now, you're gonna let the medicine do its job by resting again," he told you calmly as Flo pushed you back down on the bed. "Take another nap and once you wake up, we can cuddle and watch the movie."

You giggled.

"Sounds good to me," you said as you got more comfortable and closed your eyes. "See you in a bit, Otto."

"See you in a bit, Sam," he softly said.

About an hour later, you slowly batted your eyes open. Finally, your head stopped hurting and your body aches were quelled. However, your small fever still lingered.

It sucked, but you were glad that you were starting to feel better.

After you regained full consciousness, you noticed that Otto was back by his whiteboard. He was humming a happy tune, while the actuators were all watching him work.

Until Flo caught you again. In an instant, she jumped and turned around, facing you with her glowing yellow light.

"Up again already?" Otto jovially asked. "Well, you woke up at a good time. I needed another break after the breakthrough I just made."

You giggled, before he got up and made his way over to you again. He was smiling so bright, his eyes twinkling as he looked you over again. He could just tell you were starting to feel better.

Still, he wanted to check though. So he put his hand on your forehead and asked,

"How you feeling?"

"Well enough to cuddle with you," you joked, making him playfully sigh.

"I'm serious, Sam. Do you still have a headache? Are you still aching?"

"I still have a small fever, but my headache and body aches are basically gone."

"Yeah, you definitely still have a fever," he observed before pulling his hand away. "Feeling nauseous at all? Seems like you've been keeping your soup down."

"No, I don't have any nausea," you replied. "Just the little fever, promise."

"Okay, well maybe a lukewarm shower will help the fever go down," he noted.

"I don't have another pair of clothes," you whined.

"No worries. You can just wear one of my shirts as a nightgown. I mean you aren't going anywhere."

"Fair point. It is more comfortable to cuddle in than my work clothes."

Otto playfully rolled his eyes.

"Then it's settled. I'll run your water," he announced before leaving you alone in the room to do that.

You were only alone for a few minutes though, before he came back and tried to help you out of bed.

Your legs were still kind of numb, so it was a bit of a challenge. You ended up falling into his embrace, which made him more flustered since your top fell down a little in the process.

But he ignored it as best he could to help you regain your balance. It only took another two minutes to do so, and finally you made your way to his bathroom.

His little bathroom was simple, but kinda cute. It had just enough space to move around, which was good. It also had a mirror, a standard sink and faucet, and white cabinets & drawers underneath. Then to the side was a porcelain white toilet with a white medicine cabinet above. As for the walls, they were painted a baby blue, matching the tiles that decorated the walls of the shower/bath combo.

But what really caught your attention was his shower curtain. The fabric was decorated with painted octopi, all different colorful species against an ocean background.

The sight made you giggle, which Otto noticed.

"What's so funny?"

"Your shower curtain," you answered. "Kind of on the nose, huh?"

"Flo liked it," he shrugged. "Now are you able to clean yourself off or..."

"As much as I would like you to help me, I noticed how flustered you are so I can handle it myself. No worries."

"Well, alright. I'll be in the kitchen making you some more soup."

"Aye, aye captain," you teased, before he shook his head and closed the door behind him.

He went straight to the kitchen after, humming a happy tune again while he fished out another can of soup from the bag.

But as the soup started to cook, Flo began to vibrate loudly like she felt a disturbance. Otto was more than confused and tried to calm her down before he heard a loud thud.

Panicked, he rushed back over to the bathroom and swung the door open. But when he peeked through the curtain, his heart dropped.

There you were, lying unconscious on the tub floor. Your right leg was up in the air while your left was bent at the knee. One arm was pinned against your side and the left of the tub while the other dangled from the tub's edge.

And then there was your head.

It was drooping from the side, but posed almost like a melancholy Renaissance painting. It was an odd sight, but Otto wasted no time to help you. Even if he didn't want to gaze upon your naked body...

Well, not yet anyway.

Still, he jumped into action, stopping the water that was still raining down on you first. After, he picked you up and wrapped you in a towel to dry you off.

You fell into his grasp again as he dried you off, giving him another close up peek of your breasts.

But he ignored it again and threw the first t-shirt Moe grabbed from his closet on you.

"I'm glad she's still breathing," he told Flo once he picked you up again and brought you to the bed. The actuator comforted her creator with a cheek rub after. "I just hope she'll wake up soon. I really did want to cuddle with her."

He sulked away soon after, walking back to his kitchen to stop the soup cooking on the stove. Then he retired himself back to his desk, just praying Flo would sense you getting up again.

You didn't give him much time to reflect though as you opened your eyes again a few minutes after Otto put you back in bed.

You were very confused though.

Last thing you remembered was being in the shower. You didn't remember leaving said shower or putting his T-shirt on.

What happened in between then and now? And why were you unconscious again?

It made no sense, but you didn't want to freak out Flo who just realized you were up again. So you just saved face and slowly sat back up.

"She's up?!" Otto happily asked his helper.

Flo nodded.

"Oh good," he chirped turning his attention to you.

You felt like you were gonna blush by how happy he sounded.

"Hungry?" he jovially asked. "I just heated up another can of soup for you."

"Yeah, I could go for some more soup," you replied. "And your cuddles."

He laughed.

"Soup first, cuddles later," he gently said. "Besides, you need to get your strength back up and take some more Tylenol. How you feeling? You took a nasty fall earlier. We had to take you out the shower."

"Oh, is that why I have no recollection of how I got here? And why I feel a bit more sore?"

"I'm afraid so," he confirmed. "Stay put and get cozy. I'll be right back with your remedies."

You nodded, although you were really confused as to why you fell. You've never fallen in your shower before.

Was it because your legs were previously a bit numb?

Maybe...

Otto returned before you could ponder though, but without his apron on this time. The routine was the same though and he fed you again with no hesitation.

The way he looked at you between bites made your heart melt even more. It was clear in his warm brown eyes that he was fond of you. He obviously developed a crush on you since your time together, but you didn't mind.

Of course...

"Otto," you started, almost hesitating to ask him what you were about to ask.

"Yes, Sam? Everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," you assured him. "I just wanted to know something..."

"What?" he softly asked.

"Do you like me?"

His face turned even more red than before.

"What gave it away?"

You giggled.

"The way you've treated me all day. You seem more interested in me than just being my nurse. And you blushed when I asked to cuddle with you earlier."

"Right," he sighed. "I suppose I do fancy you. You remind me of my Rosie. I miss her so much, but maybe you're the sign that I need to move on."

"Otto," you softly said, caressing his face. "Would you like to go on a date with me once I get better?"

He smiled, before replying,

"Yes, I would like that a lot. Wherever you want to go, I'll take you."

You giggled again.

"Okay, I'll make a decision soon," you promised.

"Take your time. You're still ill," he remarked. "Now back to your soup. The sooner you eat and take your pills, the sooner we can get the cuddling."

"Right," you chirped, gladly taking another slurp of soup he gave you.

Another few minutes passed and you finished your meal and took your medicine. And once you did, Otto went back into his kitchen to clean up so he could finally cuddle and watch the movie with you.

Truly, he was anticipating this as much as you. He had been so lonely for so long, he was glad that he found you.

His sick, little fallen angel.

"I think it's cuddle time," he happily said before he joined you in the bed.

You laughed and let Moe wrap around you to put you in Otto's lap. He released you after and you laid your head on Otto's chest while Flo found the DVD and put it in the player next to the TV.

After, she returned to your side, guarding you as her creator held you close against his beating heart.

You were in heaven and you felt more loved than you ever had in your entire life.

Otto was just so nice and soft and plush. He made a wonderful sentient pillow, a nice one you didn't want to let go off or move from.

And you made that very apparent when you fell asleep against him right before the movie ended.

Otto couldn't help but smile at how beautiful you looked in your slumber either. But Flo was a bit concerned about your comfort.

"Flo, leave her be. She seems comfortable to me. Let her keep resting," he told his creation before he gently caressed your face again. "Looks like I might have found you a new mommy, guys. A new, beautiful mommy."

Flo buzzed of excitement at the thought, before she wrapped herself around you loosely and gently vibrated against your stomach.

You were too knocked out to notice though.

And Otto just kept watch until he also succumb to his fatigue, his subconscious just hoping that you would be better in the morning.

[mychlapci]

(K9 Prowl)

You're so right about the overloads actually. They freak him out. Even when the enforcers would come to 'play' with him or relieve his heat, he didnt always overload. That's something for the officers, not him. But, even when he did overload, the brief loss of control scares him and the mess that he creates gets him into trouble. He would actively try to avoid overloading (when hes not in heat at least) when he could. He would rather lay down with his spike hard and throbbing and aching whilst he waited for it to depressurise.

But whatever the handler is doing to him this time is different. No servos grab his plating until it hurts. There's nothing on his spike or in his valve other than the handler's fingers. It doesn't hurt. In fact, it feels so good that is scares him even more. His fans are working on overdrive as he desperately bites his lip to keep himself quiet, not believing he could vent from his mouth without making any more bad sounds.

The fingers in his valve scissor and then drag over his swollen nodes. The servo curled around his spike strokes him in time with the thrusting in his valve. He can't help it at all that he rolls his hips against it. It feels so good it feels so good it feels so good and his frame screams at him that he needs it

But the panic builds just as quickly as his overload does. He finally lets out a terrified but quiet whimper when he feels the familiar coil of pleasure in his abdomen. He tries to paw at his handler's arms, somehow hoping the mech would stop, and then paws at the bedding placed under him even though he doesn't even know what he could do with it-

The handler just shushes him gently. Their servos dont stop despite Prowl's pathetic attempt to make them.

The overload crashes into Prowl hard. Days worth of accumulated charge suddenly courses through Prowl's tortured frame. His hydraulics and actuators tense and freeze as he throws his head back in a silent scream, his vocaliser shorting out entirely from the charge, his hips stuttering, his valve clenching around the handler's servo, his spike spurting out shot after shot after shot of backed up transfluid.

The overload is so intense that he just falls limp after. He finally whines softly as the handler keeps working on his array. He no longer has enough control over his frame to keep himself silent.

He can feel himself crying again. Pathetic. Unable to control his frame AND crying like a newspark again. He's made such a mess. He can feel all the slick from his valve pooled beneath his aft and smeared all over his thighs. His torso is spattered with his own transfluid, and he's sure he must have gotten some on the handler too. And yet he can't stop. The servo's massaging his swollen array feel so good he can't stop. He keeps bucking his hips into their servos even though he knows he should stop

His handler leans over him, again telling him it's okay... Prowl doesn't believe it, but they are now so close- He gives in to his instincts that have him press his face into their neck, desperately taking in their comforting scent

The handler keeps going until they've wrung a few overloads out of Prowl, until his frame is finally no longer overheating and he's so blissed out that he's temporarily calmed down. When he's picked up, he whines softly and curls against his handler's frame. Just for the moment, he's comfortable and his processor is too fuzzy to tell him he should be afraid.

At least once he's at the medbay, he gets a proper physical examination to make sure he's not fried his circuits from all the heat and charge, and then they give him something to help with the heat. They can't completely negate the heat now that it's already started, but at least they can tamp it down a little, and hopefully make it pass more quickly.

Prowl isn't going to get over his fear of all of this any time soon, but it adds to his internal conflict. The way these handlers touch him feels so good. He wants them to keep doing it- but that alone scares him. And he shouldn't want it anyway.

The handler definitely notices that Prowl has a hard time overloading... he always starts shaking and trying to close his thighs around their hand, as if in an attempt to force it off of him. A less observant mech might think he was just getting excited, but since his door wings are lowered in submission, and the panic on his face is apparent as he examines the mess he's made, they know they've upset Prowl. They keep whispering encouragement to him, trying to keep their voice soft and calm because they don't want to risk upsetting him further. Stress is bad for him. They don't want him to associate the rescue with being stressed and hurt.

Prowl never before wanted to be touched. It was something the enforcers wanted and when they ordered him to stay still through it all, he stayed still. This time is different, though. This new handler smells so good, so clean, their hands are gentle on his array and there is no pain paired with the pleasure... But, after they've had him checked over and cleaned up, Prowl still stays jumpy. He doesn't like the fact that his frame is making demands, and it's not made better by the handlers coming in and out of his room, spreading their scent around, making him want to make a mess. Prowl knows he's being bad. But why won't they discipline him for it?

[plush4bunny]

"One actuator comes to pull the glasses you gifted him down so he can gaze at you over them and you now can see that you weren’t imagining the mischievous twinkle they possess. Your eyebrow goes up in response and his smile nearly splits his face as a metal arm brings from behind his back the reason for the wicked glint in his eyes."

from @chrism02's (spicy😏) Christmas sequel for Comic!Otto Octavius from their fic "On the off chance" (also, this Otto is inspired by Chris' own take of his character from his version in 'The Amazing Spider-man' from 2018 and 'Spider-Man Unlimited' from 1993)

[dragonshoardofworks]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Danny Phantom, One Piece (Anime & Manga) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Danny Fenton & Monkey D. Luffy, Danny Fenton & Going Merry Characters: Danny Fenton, Going Merry, Monkey D. Luffy, Nami (One Piece), Roronoa Zoro, Usopp (One Piece) Additional Tags: Isekai and Transmigration, Post-Danny Fenton's Portal Accident, Fenton Ghost Portal (Danny Phantom), when instead of being spit back on Earth Danny gets yote in the GZ, and a Natural Portal gets the jump on our boi, but don't worry; this is better in his behalf, Neglectful Parents Jack and Maddie Fenton, Post-Nasty Burger Explosion (Danny Phantom), DP Crossover Angst Week 2024, Empath Danny Fenton, Danny Fenton Needs A Hug, Danny Fenton Gets a Hug, Klabautermann, Dead Sam Manson, Dead Tucker Foley, Dead Jazz Fenton, Do I have to tag the MC death if it's pre-fic?, who knows ┐⁠(⁠´⁠ー⁠｀⁠)⁠┌, Going Merry is Danny's Emotional Support Spirit, Emotional Ghost Hunger, (would you look at that? This tag is back in one of my works!), Touch-Starved Danny Fenton, Mugiwara no Ichimi | Straw Hat Pirates, Mugiwara no Ichimi | Straw Hat Pirates As Family, Luffy saw Danny unattended and asked, "Is anyone gonna claim this kid?", and then not wait for an answer, Based on a Tumblr Post, Fluff and Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Danny becomes a Mugiwara no Ichimi | Staw Hat Pirate, No Beta we die like Danny (and Sam+Tucker+Jazz), Panic Attacks Summary:

Lost in every sense of the term, a boy accidentally ends as a stowaway on a caravel, while unconscious and feverish. How did he even manage that? And why is he now surrounded by Pittsburgh Pirates player-wannabes?? Or: Danny gets Isekai-ed in the East Blue, rescued by the only spirit that could and adopted by its crew along the way.

At long last! The continuation/actuation of this crossover has come to life!

Taking advantage of me having gotten back my spoons after the long shifts at work and the anniversary of "Reign Storm", I present you the first chapter of this baby!

I'm still undecided if I'll make it a series with singular events or if I'll narrate it fully, we'll see how it goes... 🤔

That being said, hope y'all enjoy it!

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

[verysmolnerd]

Doc ock visiting a doctor

He hasn’t been to one in years. For good reason too. Last time he was there, a team of doctors that joked about his dismay attempted to cut off his metal appendages.

It took some convincing on everyone’s part: Norman, Harry, and even Peter. He needed to go, not for just a checkup, but an analysis on his spine and skin.

They offered to come with him, they had done their dues and gone to one on their own times. They’re distrusting of regular doctors too, some of them are unsure or too confident. They’re either afraid of the process or too confident to use it at all.

However, his newfound family has reassured him that there’s now a doctor that specialized into scientific accidents. How such a thing came to be, he’s not so sure. But the world is ever changing, he supposed.

According to Norman, the doctor assigned to him is also his own. A trusted professional that spent years of study, even being the Osborn’s personal doctor before the messes started to happen.

So, now he sits in a waiting room. He wasn’t one to be nervous, but his foot is tapping and the actuators are worming around the small room. Granted, this office is tucked away, it’s a smaller floor in Oscorp’s one of many buildings.

There wasn’t anyone else in the room, but he can’t help but feeling that the empty space in the room is judging him. Mocking his every move, warning him that he could be trapped just like he was before.

The door separating the lobby from the office opens. “Otto Octavius?” His head goes up to the name, like a deer in headlights he looks at he doctor.

You’re calm, patient with him. So he’s a bit nervous when walking over to you, however, the only way to know is how his actuators are acting.

You do the general checkup on him: height, weight, etc. without really saying a word, it was obvious that the former doctor was nervous, you’d rather not spook him. So you moved slowly.

The X-Ray was also calm. He fully expected to see your expression worsen when you saw how warped his spine is. It was a little funny, his nasal laugh brought you out of your panic.

That’s when he started to talk to you, “I know my weight isn’t flattering, but I swear to you, it’s all adamatium.” You shake your head, the traces of a smile show on your face, “Well, you’d be perfectly healthy for your age. Save for your metalic friends over here.”

Otto nodded, it’s to be expected, Rosie really cleaned him up after college. He started to develop healthy habits for the longest time and still do them in her absence.

However, you know you frightened him when you said, “I can get those off you. If you’d like.” He went stiff, which was what you expected.. but the why is the matter to you.

You had to wrack your brain for a moment, but you made sure to wait for his answer while you tried to find then source of the issue.

You vaguely remember seeing a hospital being destroyed by a patient, along with the public announcement of a bunch of doctors found dead. You can only assume that they took this situation unprofessionally… it’s disappointing seeing how many doctors on their high horses.

“Do you have a process?” Otto asked, his expression unreadable. The actuators fully trained on you. “I’m glad you asked,” you clasp your hands, “Vibrainium magnetized saw. It’s quick and painless I can either remove each tentacle at their bases, so the waistband remains.”

You take a deep breath before introducing the alternative “Or I can remove the needles in your back with open surgery on your back, which is a little more complicated, so you would be sedated for a few hours.”

Otto was speechless, blinking rapidly. Which made you reassure him, “We’re going at your own pace here, don’t worry about making a decision. Just know that you are in good hands.”

“No,” he glances at his failed project, “I want to.” You smile, “What way would you like them removed?”

..

When Otto returned to the lobby, Norman was there, sitting cross-legged on a sofa. “How was it?”

“Hopeful.” He says, his thumb resting on the card detailing his next visit.

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery, @writingkitten, @iobsessoverfictionalmen, @ghostlypie, @verysmolnerd (can’t tag don’t know why), @freddiefredfive

warnings: drinking, swearing, Otto has a slight panic attack and the actuators go a little crazy

running across campus, I clutched my bag to my shoulder. The flyer in my hand fluttered in the wind as I ran. One more class then I could go see Norman Osborn and his special guest talk about whatever it was they were going to talk about. A scream to my left made me pause. Turning my head slightly, I noticed an actuator turning slowly from person to person. The red light caught my eye as it focused on me. Slowly, the light changed color; going from red to pink to light blue. I looked past the actuator to find the man it would be attached to. Standing in the middle of the campus green, turning his head this way and that was Otto Octavius. As the actuator moved closer to me, his head snapped over. Reaching up slowly, I gently stroked the arm. The claw closed and I could hear a faint humming sound coming from the machinery, making me smile softly at it.

“I’m sorry.” Otto said as he walked over, causing the actuator to move away from me. “They get a little…overzealous when…well when my emotions get high.” I shrugged it off, smiling brightly at him.

“it’s alright.” I said. “I’m late for a class anyway. Might as well have a good excuse.” Otto nodded, his cheeks dusted pink as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“in that case, do you uh…” he cleared his throat and gently pushed an actuator out of the way as it tried to peer over his shoulder at me. “Do you have a phone I can borrow? Just for a minute. I need to call a friend to figure out where I’m supposed to go. See I’m…”

“you’re the special guest at the event with doctor Osborn!” I exclaimed, already digging into my pocket for my phone. I unlocked it after a few attempts. Holding it out to him as he nodded, I held up the flyer with my other hand. “I was hoping to go to that after the class!” Otto blushed deeper and smiled.

“I can highly recommend it. Norman has thought up some pretty interesting topics for this.” Otto said softly. “Mainly about physics but it could be beneficial even if that isn’t your major.” Our fingers brushed as he took my phone and typed in Norman Osborns number. He turned away from me and took a couple steps in the opposite direction but the actuators remained fixed on me.

One drew closer cautiously before closing its claw and gently nudging my arm. I gently pet it again, getting a look from Otto as the humming sound started again. I laughed as the other three actuators came over and surrounded me. Gentle nudges and a few claws clicking continued to make me laugh as they all fought for my attention. The light in the middle of the claw had gone white now as one wrapped around me fully. I looked around me as it did, arms up so they wouldn’t be trapped against my waist. “No. Down. Don’t…don’t do that.” Otto said sternly as he turned back to me to see exactly what the actuators had done. they pulled back almost bash fully and I gave one a quick pat as it passed by.

“sorry. I…” Otto shook his head at me and I blurted out before he could speak. “They act like kids.” Ottos eyes went wide and he nodded.

“they do. How…” he took a deep breath and gulped before trying again. “How much do you know about what happened to me? And Norman?” I smiled sadly at him.

“I was here in New York at the time. In high school.” I started. “Doctor Osborn tested some high grade super soldier serum on himself and went mad. Became the green goblin. When the fusion reactor…I had just started college. And you…” it was my turn to gulp. “The inhibitor chip was fried when you…so the AI…they…took…over.” I whispered. Otto nodded, his gaze downcast. “But you guys were cured. The details are hazy but you’re…better.” Otto nodded again. “So with a working inhibitor chip, how…why…children?” I stumbled, a quick look at the time on my phone told me I was better off just skipping my class. To prove my intent, I walked over to a bench and sat down with my backpack on the ground. Otto looked around at the deserted campus and sat down next to me, carefully keeping the actuators away from me.

“How much do you know about AI?” Otto countered. I shrugged, a small smile on my face.

“I know that one of the things we’d like it to do is learn. From mistakes and things we feed it. To better itself and improve.” Otto nodded. “But there’s also dangers and of course the overarching worry of people of a certain age that this will create skynet and lead us into the robot wars.” I laughed and Otto joined in.

“you aren’t wrong.” He smiled at me. “Are you in that age group?” I snickered.

“subtle way of asking my age doctor octavius.” I smirked at him as he slowly turned red. “When you don’t even know my name yet.” Otto stuttered and I bit my lip. “It’s (Y/N) by the way. And not really. I mean I’m old enough to have seen terminator but to buy into the idea that we really will create skynet, nah. That’s a little far fetched for me.”

“so…” Otto cleared his throat. “So since you understand the basics, you will get this part. When I made the AI to control the arms, I set it to basic parameters. To be controlled by my thoughts and my thoughts alone. When the chip was fried, the AI connected to my subconscious. The desire to finish what I had started. That if I did I would avenge my…Rosie…even though…” he broke off abruptly and I reached over to grab his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “It tapped into baser instincts. And started to build a base line for the AI off that. With the new chip, it still has that base line but it also has my conscious and subconscious helping it tell the difference between right and wrong. What it should and shouldn’t do.” I nodded.

“but it still has a mind of its own.” I said. Otto nodded.

“exactly. So they explore. Meet new people.” He shot me a shy smile. “Try new things. And I can hear them. Not like it was but I can hear them in my head. Have conversations. They build up from the baseline to continue towards what they could and should become.” I nodded again.

“I’m not gonna lie. That’s pretty cool.” I smiled at him as one of the actuators finally got passed him and settled against my leg. I started to gently stroke it the same I would a dog. “Having those voices in your head…how do you tell them apart? Doesn’t it ever get to be…too much?” I asked. Otto shrugged.

“second question first. Sometimes. But they tend to know the limit and stop right before they cross it.” Otto watched me as I kept petting the arm. “I uh…I named them. They have distinct tones. In my head. And I named them. To…kind of differentiate who I was talking to.” My eyes lit up.

"Really?!" I exclaimed. Otto nodded. "Who is this?" I asked, pointing at the actuator in my lap.

“that’s moe.” Otto said. I smiled down at the actuator on my lap and then looked up at the other three. “This is flo.” Otto touched the one resting on his right shoulder. “This is Harry.” A vague gesture over his left shoulder. “And the one hiding behind me is Larry.” I nodded.

“hello.” I whispered to them. My phone going off broke us out of our little world.

“oh shit!” Otto exclaimed, standing up quickly and getting a mess of chatter from the actuators. “I’m late! I’m sorry. I have to go.” Otto started to head in the direction of the theater.

“oh!” I checked the time and realized that I should probably head to the presentation too. I started towards my dorm to drop off my backpack.

“(Y/N)!” Otto called as he rushed back over. I turned towards him with a smile. “Norman and I are going to a bar afterwards. It’s called the spot. Uh I’d…it would be…do…” Otto stumbled over his words. I gently reached out and grabbed his hand.

“I’d like to grab a drink with you.” I said softly. Otto sighed in relief and squeezed my hand back. “Good luck Otto! I’ll see you after!” Otto turned back and ran off to the theater. I headed back to my dorm and dropped off my bag before leaving again to grab a seat at the presentation. Making sure I sat front and center, I waved at Otto as he came out with Norman Osborn. He smiled at me and mow moved in a waving motion. I smiled back and paid attention to the best of my ability. After the presentation, I had a slight headache but headed towards the bar anyway.

“(Y/N)!” Otto waved at me from a back corner booth. “Over here!” I smiled over at him as I headed over. Pulling my sleeves down over my hands, I blushed as Norman Osborn turned around in his seat to look over at me. Ottos eyes flickered to Norman as he said something. The smile never left his face though.

“hello.” I waved at the two of them with a small smile before moe pushed into my hand. “Hello to you guys too.” A small laugh escaped me as flo came over to usher me into the booth next to Otto. The man in question was blushing bright red while I sat down next to him.

“I’m Norman Osborn.” The man across from us offered me his hand and I shook it, awestruck.

“Dr. Osborn, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” I gushed. Moe had slid into my lap and flo was trying to lay over my shoulders. Otto seemed to be having a conversation with them, trying to rein them in before they caused any trouble. Norman laughed.

“you can call me Norman.” He waved his hand at me. “And you must be (Y/N). Ottos already told me about you. Seems like you are one of the only people on campus to not be freaked out by the actuators.” I shrugged.

“what can I say? I’ve been fascinated with them ever since…” I trailed off, knowing better than to go too far into my obsession with how they worked in front of other people. Otto stared at me.

“that’s why you understand AI so well.” He blurted out. I turned towards him, blushing. “You’ve studied them already.” I nodded slowly.

“not in a creepy weird way. They were the first of their kind. Case studies were done but nothing definitive. Mostly speculation on how you did it.” I explained. Otto blushed with a smile.

“it also explains why you aren’t scared of them.” Norman added. I nodded, shooting a glance at the older man.

“I’m not looking to study them. But I do admit, they are as fascinating up close as they are on paper.” I admitted. Otto drew me into conversation easily, changing the subject to what they had been talking about in the presentation. Norman was largely left out, watching the two of us with a slight smile on his face as Otto opened up to me more. At one point, Larry started to drift away, making Otto realize what was going on and excusing himself to go to the restroom.

“i haven’t seen him so happy in years.” Norman finally spoke up. “It’s been rough on him, everything we’ve been through. It’s why I asked him to come speak with me. I thought it would get him out of his shell a bit.” I laughed at that. “But I mean come on. I became a third wheel to something that was my idea in the first place.” Norman chuckled. “The bar. Not asking you to come here. That was all otto.” I blushed.

“thank you for letting me stick around. You don’t have to.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “You haven’t really…” Norman held up a hand.

“I have and I don’t mind. Otto needs this. Even if it’s just friendship. So continue on. I’m going to head out once he comes back.” Norman winked at me and I nodded. Otto returned a few minutes later and Norman took his leave. “You two have fun. My tab will be open all night so stay as long as you want.” He patted Otto on the shoulder as he left and Otto chuckled nervously.

“he’s a nice guy.” I offered. Otto nodded.

“gave me a job at oscorp. Funded the beginning of my project.” He said hurriedly. “We were friends since college. I’m lucky to have someone like him on my side.” I nodded.

“you really are.” I agreed. I looked at the time and sighed. “I should head back to my dorm. It’s late and I have classes tomorrow.” I stood up, dropping a bill on the table. “For the tip.” I explained when Otto starred at it.

“can I walk you back to your dorm?” He asked suddenly. I nodded in agreement and took his offered arm. We walked back in relative silence and once we got to the door, he hesitated. “We’ll be on campus for a few more days, if you want to meet up again.” Otto said. I nodded with a smile.

“I’d love to!” I exclaimed. Otto smiled sweetly at me.

“my number is in your phone.” He said as my eyes widened. “Let’s call it wishful thinking.” He rubbed the back of his neck before leaning in to kiss my cheek. “Talk to you soon (Y/N).” He said before turning and walking back across campus. I stood there stunned, with a hand on my cheek before turning to go into the dorm with the biggest smile I’d ever had on my face.

[hollowsart]

"Doctor Octavius."

Ah. His boss, Norman Osborn.. What was he doing here? He hardly ever came down into the labs himself.. He sounded eerily calm compared to his usual bitter tone. That was.. not a good sign, to say the least. This put Otto on edge in an instant. Especially so as he was still wearing the arms, he began to panic, trying to find a place to hide to remove them, but there was no place in sight to run as Norman came into view. Otto jumped as soon as he saw his boss behind him.

"Oh no.. M-Mr.Osborn..? H-Hello, ah.. What, uhm, Wh-What brings you here? I-I thought.."

"As smart as you are, you hardly do think at all," Norman spoke, tired, stern eyes drop from the scientist's face to his twiddling hands, "A smart mind, you have, Otto. Although clever you are not if you think me stupid to not notice."

"..N-Not notice what?"

"Don't play dumb with me, doctor." the man turned his attention back to Otto, stepping closer and causing the other to shuffle back, “You must know why I’m here, surely.” He watched him, eying the way he trembled, eyes darting around behind thick, square frames as his mind raced to register what the man was referring. It was clear what it was even before he said it aloud, reaching a hand down and around to grip and raise one of the objects in question.

“Those funny little arms, Otto.”

Otto was sweating now, heart racing, although not nearly as fast as his mind. Didn't plan for this. He didn't think Norman would ever come down like this.. and find the actuators he did so well to hide every time he was done working. He was caught off guard, trapped in a checkmate.

“Th... S-Sir-- I--” Otto sputtered, bringing his hands up defensively as he backed up, heart racing as he rounded the table, all the while his boss had followed with that unchanging tense expression, the actuator limb in his hand. Otto's eyes darting from Norman to the actuator and back a few times, a clear desperate panic in his voice and face, “O-Oh dear.. L-Listen I-- I-I couldn’t have done all this work without them! You-- Y-You must understand! Th-There was too much for one person-- I-I needed those to--!”

“You need them?” Otto was cut off, bumping into a sizeable computing device. Parts that hung from it rattled in response, one falling off as Norman continued, Otto being forced to press into the console of the machine, “Need? Really? I beg to differ, Doctor.” stepping closer now, "I don't believe you ever needed them--”

Norman swiped another actuator, on the opposite side this time, yanking as hard as he could on them to get Otto up off the machine. He caught the scientist with his foot slamming harsh into the harness around his gut. Otto groaned and Norman leered down above him, hissing out his final words before releasing the arms and kicking Otto back into the machine with all the force he could muster.

“--and I don’t believe you’ll ever need them again."

[p3730]

imagine lying in your Owner's lap, looking up at it from below. you already know how much bigger it is than you, but the perspective makes it seem like it's all-encompassing

being held, safely, comfortably, as it readjusts internal components in your body

one hand reaching in through the gap left under the panel it removed from your chest, the other hand's interface attached to the control port on the back of your neck

you feel the input slow down, less adjustments being made now as it finishes up. you lie patiently, blissful, not knowing what's to come but trusting them completely

and you feel a heavy, resonant click, as the state of your power system fades from your awareness, as you feel the reactor in your body shutting down. systems slow to conserve power, but there's not much left in reserve, and your visual processing begins fading into grey

but you feel a new sensation in your awareness. foreign, yet unmistakably familiar. your Owner's resonance fills you. it's beautiful. you feel the gentle pulsing of its reactor, the fluctuations you feel when its servos actuate its limbs. it comes together into almost a song, in part rhythmic and constant, but organic, unpredictable, alive. you've felt its pattern before, but never like this.

and power floods back into your systems, your senses newly tinted with its Presence. you feel it in everything. the music overtakes you. you try to analyze it, but even with just a glimpse of the information flow you struggle to keep up. you let go. you let it flow into you. everywhere you'd feel the hum of your reactor, you feel your Owner. and you feel that It is Beautiful.

you hear its words. you don't just hear them, they're more than that. it reaches through the control port, and you feel its mind enveloping yours. "you're safe here. you can relax now. i have you in my arms. you belong to me, forever. there are no more worries. i will hold you."

[utane]

Hello! Please ignore this if you consider it to be unwelcomed or improper. I really like your Orizyn clingy drawing, it is very good, and it inspired me to write a short fiction about it. Here it is:

Orikan rarely had uninterrupted periods where he could finish his meditations. He would usually be forcefully awakened from his meditative trance by interstitial alerts, or internal alarms.

Always an emergency.

It would break his focus, and with that his consciousness would pour back into his body. He would be alert and ready to handle the disruption, energized flux rushed inside his conduits.

But now, with his trance coming to a gentle end, his astral algorithms started trickling inside his body.

Orikan, with most of his consciousness floating freely outside his engrams, let his feet touch the cold floor of his observatory.

His tail was making large, lazy movements as the astromancer was sleepily looking at the reports, phos-glyphs holograms surrounding him.

He wobbled a bit, unstable as his internal gyroscopes didn’t fully calibrate from the extended meditation on his repulsor drivers.

His ocular has issues focusing on the shiny glyphs in front of him. He chose to close most of its aperture, leaving only a tiny space, reducing the size of his active visual feed.

Now he could read the reports.

No alerts. But activity in his library.

His cogitations programs were satisfied with the lack of alarms, but his engrams were pushing him to investigate.

He let out a string of fuzzy white noise from his vocal actuator, as he started dragging his feet to investigate what his engrams were so concerned about.

The library was only in the adjacent room of this floor, but to the groggy cryptek, it felt like an infinity.

Right leg, up, down, left leg, up, down. The simple pattern was mesmerizing, almost putting him back into the trance he just came from. But his engrams insisted on not letting him slip into becoming an astral program again, keeping him inside his body.

There was work to be done.

Reaching the library happened faster than he realized, lost in the task of walking there.

With his back to him, there was Trazyn.

He could tell it was him, mostly by how he looked.

And he looked to be perfectly cold, ideal to rest on and chill his heated flux.

Trazyn had sneaked inside Orikan’s tower a couple of times in his long existence. It was an ongoing project, coming here, replicating his manuscripts or any new data tablet the diviner found, then taking the original and leaving the duplicate.

It was not stealing. Since he didn’t trust Orikan to properly take care of them, they would be safe in his own archives. He was saving the precious information for the future.

He knew that Orikan was in his deep meditations, and he knew how to bypass the alarms, not to trigger the Observatory’s master. Not only that, but he was comfortable here, almost as in his own Museum.

He just found another new tablet when he felt a warm hand touch his shoulder pad.

He froze, slowing down his chronosenses. Despite the shock, there was no pain or shouting.

Trazyn started slowly turning to look at who touched him, when he felt Orikan pressing his hooded head on the other shoulder.

The diviner looked peaceful, with his ocular mostly covered by the diaphragm.

He let his perception of time return to normal, as he felt another hand coming and resting on one of his abdominal tubbings.

‘Orikan?’ he said, almost as quiet as a whisper.

The astromancer let out a few white noises, and judging from the cadence that they came, they were supposed to be words.

He felt the hand under his ribs move, playing with the coolant conduit.

‘What ?’ He let some of his confusion sneak into his voice. Orikan looked like he had just woken up from a deep sleep. As soon as he thought that, he realized how absurd that was. They were necrons, they didn’t sleep, let alone wake up groggy.

Yet Orikan was acting exactly like that.

He started rubbing up and down the conduit between two fingers, as he repeated the white noises.

‘….cold…..’ Trazyn deciphered a work.

It hit him, Orikan just finished his meditations, and maybe he still wasn’t in full possession of his engramatic capacities.

He looked very peaceful, resting his chin on his shoulder, looking like he was a step away from dozing off again.

Trazyn felt the star in his core pulse.

He might just play along for a bit, and see Orikan’s reaction when he realizes where he is.

Starting his cooling processes, he let chilled coolant flow freely in his inner tubing.

Then, gently took the warm member between his cold fingers, as he turned to face his colleague.

‘I will cool you off, dear. Come hither!’ he kept the gentle, soft tone while pulling the sleepy cryptek closer.

Touching his cold chest caused Orikan’s ocular to be almost completely closed, the astromancer letting out content static noises.

‘How were your meditations? Did you find what you were searching for?’ He asked, delighted to feint familiarity.

Orikan rubbed his deathmask on the pleasantly cold ankh. He recalled being happy with the results of this study.

‘…good’. He muttered. He could feel the fingers on his hands moving, rubbing calming circles.

‘Did you see anything about me?' Trazyn asked the calm diviner. He rarely got to see him like this.

Orikan lifted his head and cracked open his aperture a bit wider. He needed a moment to connect to the information still outside his body.

Trazyn felt the change, and started to gently move his deathmask closer to the astromancer's.

Orikan looked lazily at him.

‘Kiss me....’ he whispered, ending with a static burst.

Trazyn complied. Pressing his mouth to the fanged one of the diviner.

He started dimming his oculars, feeling like the star, spinning inside his chest, was melting him from the inside.

This was such a raw, unguarded moment.

He wished it could last forever.

The kiss lasted hours, feeling the flux cycle in under the necrodermis covering it.

After the 7th hour, he pulled gently away.

‘Trazyn?’

‘Yes, Orikan?’, he asked, feeling the fingers he held in his hand, suddenly gripping him back tightly.

‘What are you doing here?’ Orikan’s voice came stronger, with the usual anger behind it.

Looks like he overstayed his welcome.

The end -

Sorry again, if it was rude, I didn't mean for it to be. I really enjoyed your drawings of Orizyn. Thank you !

Ouououghgh I'm so spoiled !! No need to apologize for cooking up some fresh food for me 👀👀

They're so soft and Trazyn is being so sappy 😍😭😭

[hexalianrebel-blackfeathers]

Squid Surge

Panda’s Notes:  We all know Olivia Octavius is prime ler material, but in 6 whole years, I haven't seen a thing. So here's a thing. >w< Blame @carrie-tate for this one. I love this picture.

[Ao3] || [Cookies Found: 0] || [Commissions] || [Ko-fi]

There’s something about staring into the pulsating epicenter of an interdimensional rift that changes you.

There’s something about losing your lab’s main source of funding that changes you too, but that’s neither here nor there.

The last few months were spent on research. Peter Parker had reportedly been 26 years old when he died…Spiderman had only appeared in the city about a decade ago, give or take. It had been barely a year after that first appearance when she and Spiderman became recurring enemies.

Sixteen years old. Maybe seventeen. She’d been fighting over and over—reworking and redesigning machine after machine—to fight a child. It was a bit funny, to say the least; in fact, it explained a lot. His terrible humor; his exaggerated voices for those first few years; his…unorthodox plans.

…She would miss him. In a sense, of course.

The universe is a funny thing though. Hardly a day after Peter was gone, three entirely different Spider-characters had given her a hell of a fight in the woods just outside of Alchemax. One of them being a nearly-identical—not counting the obvious difference in age—Peter Parker, and another with the ability to turn completely invisible. Now, that was something.

The one with the invisibility power; he’d first appeared in the Alchemax building alongside that second Peter, in a terrible store-bought spider suit and barely able to use his ability consistently. It was kind of adorable, like watching a kitten’s first attempts to climb. In the heat of the chase, it touched something human deep inside of her—She’d have to make a note to fix that—and she couldn’t help teasing him a bit in the moment.

The next day had been the collider’s final one. Six Spiders in total, five of which disappeared through the fluctuating rifts. She’d made the mistake of believing the smallest one—who showed up in a black-and-red suit after showing off his invisibility—was a seventh variant, but it’d only lasted a moment. The others had recognized him; they were so happy to see him. It might have felt nice to kill him, in that moment.

But she hadn’t; she honestly didn’t fully remember what happened. She awoke on a hard surface, her pneumatic arms clutching for purchase on something. Blood was running down her face and some bone somewhere was definitely broken. The whole chamber was filled with light in colors she had never imagined. The air was being pulled toward one of the portal generators; the temperature shifted wildly as everything swirled, and for just a fleeting moment, she had a glimpse into a web of something infinite and indescribable.

So, yeah. Minor Existential Quandary. No big deal. Not an issue at all.

Recovery was an interesting time spent between different casts and braces, readjusting actuators and programs. No one took much notice; lying low between the chaotic moments was something she took a sort of pride in. The news droned on in the background every time; the word on the street was a particular, brand-new black-suit Spiderman. She was curious about him; she admired his sacrifice. But days turned to weeks, turned to months. He didn’t disappear; he didn’t falter; if anything, he was improving quickly for such a small thing. He was supposed to be here, in this dimension.

That brings us back to this. She’d wracked her brain trying to remember that night. The whole week had become a bit fuzzy with the head injury, but something stuck about. Miles. Spoken like a name. She’d heard it a few times during the encounters they’d had. They were all just so talkative, weren’t they?

Hacking into databases wasn’t necessarily a strong suit of hers. Not to say that it’s hard, but it’s nowhere as easy as robotics. Miles is an interesting name to search for too, all things considered. Not common enough for her to scrap the search entirely—Like Peter, funny enough—but not so rare that the hunt was a simple handful of clicks. And she adored a good puzzle.

Now, how to narrow this down… If the precedent held true, the kid would be under 20 years old. Great. That removes…40% of the results. That’s still a few dozen in the area though, less puzzling now and more downright luck.

…Olivia doesn’t really believe much in luck. What she does believe in is probability. Such as, if someone were to, say, spread an itty-bitty little rumor through the proverbial criminal grapevine about a new secret project Doc Ock was working on; well, then the probability that such information would get to Spiderman was nearly 100%. And then, the probability that Spiderman would simply have to infiltrate Alchemax to confirm such a rumor was…

Actually, that brings us to the present. The brace on her leg kept the occasional aches from distracting her; the one on her wrist had just become a habit from weeks of routine. She stood in her personal lab, making a few final calibrations. Frankly, the timing was impeccable. The tablet beside her, showing schematics and diagnostics for the mechanism on the table, had a small grid of dots in one corner that shifted from green to red in a sort of line before only one dot stayed red. She tapped the grid, making it the focal program on the screen, and she smirked to herself as she lifted the apparatus enough for it to attach itself onto her back. It felt lighter; less metal hidden in the tubes definitely helped. The arms lifted her weight off the floor easily; that part hadn’t needed any changing.

“One last thing.” She finally spoke, pulling her glasses off while one of the arms passed her goggles into her hand. “I’ll need to test the new program; it’d be so nice to have some assistance~” She pressed the red dot on the tablet, and a loud hiss suddenly came from the ceiling behind her, quickly followed by a startled yelp. She turned with a grin, finding a flailing partial-silhouette made of fire suppressant powder. “How nice of you to drop in, Spider-Man.” She taunted playfully, lashing an arm across the room toward him.

He dodged to one side, perching himself on a table as he let himself become visible again. “I-I—How…?” He stammered out, ducking away from another arm trying to grab him.

“It’s a temperature detector, sweetie, not a person detector. In fact, I had to increase its sensitivity just for you!”

He glared at her—Don’t ask how she can tell—before lunging to one side and attempting to rush at her. She had lifted herself up and backwards to stand on the workbench, and Spider-man flinched as all four arms lashed toward him. He fired off a web, attempting to pull himself out of the way, but she managed to catch him by one ankle and drag him close enough for another arm to coil around his wrist. The claw shoved into his hand, blocking the trigger on that web shooter as he flailed nervously.

“Huh, the speed adjustments paid off too.” She grinned, tapping her chin as she watched Spiderman grab at the plastic tubing.

“This is the secret project I heard so much about?” He let out a huff, and she could feel the air tingle as sparks started to jump off of him. “Can’t say I’m impressed.”

Her smirk didn’t falter at all. “Sorry, Miles; I made a point to keep this design completely      insulated from electricity.”

He froze up completely. Oh. She actually hadn’t meant to let that slip so early. But given his reaction…

“I don’t—” He tried to speak, but the new anxiety was dripping from his voice.

“So that is your name!” Olivia laughed. “Honestly, you Spiders really should work on keeping your mouths shut during these little fights.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Octavius.” He growled, looking away and prying harder at the claw on his wrist.

She eyed him skeptically, shaking her head. “You can play tough if you want, but I do have to tell you: You were wrong earlier; my secret project is actually this little program.” She emphasized the statement by running the command, leaning casually on the workbench as she was set back on the floor. Two of the remaining arms moved suddenly, the claws squeezing gently at his sides. The reaction was instant and, frankly, hilarious.

Spiderman let out a panicked sort of noise, his free hand grabbing at one of the offending claws. “A-Aye, watch it; tell your vacuum tubes to keep their hands to themselves!”

Olivia let herself chuckle, twirling her finger casually in the air as the claw on his other side mimicked the motion. “Oh, come on now, Spiderman; you think I’ve never heard that one before?” She taunted, smirking as she watched him squirm. “Besides, it’s not like they’re doing anything; you’re fine.”

She waved her hand dismissively, pretending to turn her attention elsewhere while both claws suddenly moved faster. The gentle squeezes became very purposeful kneading from his hips to his ribcage, and Spiderman—Miles—kicked wildly as a startled laugh managed to escape. Olivia glanced back at him, crossing her arms and hoping her sarcasm didn’t show too much. “You still alright up there?”

Miles was definitely glaring at her if his tone was any hint. “You’re doing this on purpose…” He tried to growl, but it sounded a lot more like stifled giggling.

“Doing what~? I’m not doing a thing. The program is just a maintenance tool. Keeps all the joints working, like cracking your knuckles.” She tapped her chin. “Unless, of course…”

“Shut up.” He snarled, trying to scrunch himself up as both claws crawled tauntingly slow up his sides.

“…You’re ticklish.”

There was a beat of silence as they stared at each other, and electricity jumped off of Miles’ hands again.

Olivia sneered as she let the claws strike; one of them resumed the pattern of squeezing up his side while the other tickled mercilessly under the arm he was dangling by. And wow, it really shouldn’t be this easy; this was just unfair. Miles actually burst out laughing, his escape efforts redoubling in the form of much more aggressive kicks. Olivia simply kept her distance, chuckling as she pulled the tablet on her desk closer to make a few notes.

Reaction times were good; pressure calibration seemed accurate; minute motions were apparently quite realistic, if that squealing was anything to go by.

“Are you having fun?” She taunted, reaching to sneak a poke on his stomach and snickering when he nearly connected a kick through his laughter. “I think this is fun. Now…” She tapped her chin as she examined her notes…

Logic and Opportunity… In a situation where a problem is presented, these two will balance in some way. Most people, when an opportunity presents itself, will try to logic out the surrounding circumstances to decide if the opportunity is truly worth taking at the time. A computer, however, gathers all the logical information it has, determines an optimal solution, and when an opportunity to perform that solution appears—

…This is all to say that Olivia finally lashed out with her remaining actuator, the claw snatching Spiderman’s mask off of his face.

Oh…This feeling again.

Spiderman—Miles—looked shocked for a second, the momentary joy in his eyes giving way to a panic that was…primal, to say the least. Fear that everything was going to fall away. The sight of impending death, and the knowledge that you aren’t ready.

Olivia hesitated. There’s something about staring into the eyes of the kid you had made deliberate plans and attempts to kill that changes you.

Both of them were frozen; his face was hard—determined—but it didn’t disguise the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes. His mind was completely blank.

What was she thinking? She realized quite suddenly that she hadn’t fixed that pesky humanity. His face softened as she thought; her expression must have changed.

What had actually changed was that her arms had lowered him closer to the floor, the grips of the claws loosening enough for—Right, they were fighting. He wrenched his hand, opening the claw on his wrist enough to pull free, and he broke into a sprint the second he hit the floor. She reflexively pulled herself out of the way, stumbling slightly as her legs hit the workbench. Olivia looked quickly around the room, only to find herself alone. His mask had fallen to the floor; he wouldn’t leave without it. She was about to adjust her goggles to shift filters, but a familiar crackling over her shoulder caught her attention. She felt a hard shove, most of the electricity absorbed by the apparatus as the arms moved to keep her from falling. Static tingled through her shoulders as she turned to face the boy standing poised on her desk. She could handle this; she just needed to focus.

[ERROR!]

The message flashed in the corner of her vision, and Miles squinted at her, apparently spotting the backwards text through her goggles. She fell suddenly to her own feet, the actuators shifting as the device on her back sparked. A dull ache shot through her spine; they weren’t responding to the neural link. Not really a great time for that, but nothing she hasn’t dealt with before.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t prepared for two of the claws to start tickling her sides, and Miles stifled a laugh at the giggling snort that escaped her. Yeah, actually, forget that poignant revelation she just had; she’s still going to kill him.

“You little brat!” She barely managed to get out, her tone nowhere near as accusatory as she’d wanted through her own growing laughter.

He stepped back slightly when she staggered forward, and he crouched on the desk, resting his chin on one hand as he watched her crumble with a slight smirk. “Y’know, you’re right; this is kind of fun.”

Now, he was the one to hesitate, not that she was able to focus fully on him or anything. She heard his web shooter fire, and the mask was snatched off of the floor. There was a faint tapping before he gave an exasperated sigh. “¿Cómo encuentras algo?” He huffed before, suddenly, the actuators went mostly still. They still spasmed occasionally, and when they attempted to retract back into the apparatus just left three of them deflating on the floor.

[EMERGENCY OVERRIDE ACTIVATED, SHUTTING DOWN]

She’d barely caught sight of the message through the slight haze in her eyes just before her goggles darkened and deactivated. She took the time to catch her breath before she pushed herself up, one of her hands moving to rub her side as the giggles faded away. Spiderman was gone, as far as she could tell—Smart kid—but her glasses had been webbed to the ceiling. Smug little brat.

Olivia fished one of her many spare pairs out of a drawer on her workbench, sighing as she pulled the tablet closer and flicked through the different programs. A thirty-character access code later, she was scrolling back through the security footage for this room. One of the angles had a crystal-clear shot of Miles’ face. The ideas that must have been running through his head to put that much fear in his eyes…

No one else had access to these records until the security backup at the end of the night. Olivia valued her privacy more often than not.

Logic and Opportunity. When a situation presents itself, a computer will logic out a solution and perform immediately when the opportunity arises.

Olivia took a deep breath, held it, and let it out. She deleted the footage.

A dot on the grid program shifted subtly from red to green, and she smiled.

There’s something about humanity that changes you.