#we've got the spiders now all we need is the webs

[toyybox]

Spiderwebs #19: Tape X (Rorschach)

Masterlist

content: lab whump, captivity, immortal whumpee, spiders, hallucinations, bad treatment of hallucinations, briefly implied death of a child, implied child abuse

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

“Do you see that?” he asked. “Size of Texas, I swear.”

Heather only frowned in response. By his estimate, it had been two days since the last experiment, if you could call it that. Two days since the paralysis agent. They had gone through several more rounds of drugs, with varying results. He had eaten three breakfasts, two lunches, and two dinners. Or was it three dinners and two breakfasts? Did Heather ever give him brunch? Anyway, some time had passed. It appeared that, at some point in between those languid hours, a spider had appeared in Jackie’s room. 

It was a normal spider, all things considered. Not aggressive at all, but it was larger than he would like. About the side of his hand. Black, furry, and completely still. Not quite as fat as a tarantula, but not any less disconcerting. He’d only seen spiders like that in Halloween stores.

Now, don’t take this information the wrong way. Jackie was no arachnophobe. He actually had a grudging respect for spiders—somebody had to deal with all those fruit flies and centipedes, after all. But Jackie was no entomologist, either. That respect only extended to a certain distance. The arachnid was on the wall across from the bed, and the basement was spacious, but that was still too close for him. He was starting to feel more and more claustrophobic by the day. The room might as well have been a closet. His new eight-legged roommate definitely wasn’t helping things.

“What do you mean?” Heather asked, when he didn’t supply an explanation. 

“On the wall.” Jackie gestured his head to the spider’s direction. “Right there. The spider.”

For the first time, Heather did not look angry or smug, or even bored, but instead confused. “Spider? What spider?”

The spider did not move. It remained an intimidating, fuzzy black shape out of the corner of his eye. Was Heather trying to mock him or what? Weird way of going about it. “The spider on that wall. Do you think it’s a tarantula? Are there any tarantulas in America?”

Heather glanced at the wall. Then back at Jackie. Then back at the wall. Then back at Jackie. Then back at the wall. Then back at—

“What are you doing?” Jackie snapped. “Haven’t you ever seen a spider before?”

“Are you trying to be funny? That’s a blank wall.”

Alright. He’d play along if it made her happy. “Sure. Can you get it out of here, though? Buy some bug spray. It’s creeping me out.”

There was that self-righteous rage again, though it was less razor-edged than usual. “Don’t lie to me. You know what I’ll do if you lie.”

“Yeah, I know, of course I fucking know, but I’m not lying. It’s right there.” He punctuated this statement with a few curt gestures. “Can’t you see it?”

“No.”

Jackie hesitated.

“There is no spider,” Heather continued. “Are you sure you’re not just…” She didn’t finish this sentence, seemingly at a loss for the alternative explanation.

“Whatever.” It wasn’t a big deal. Spiders were harmless, especially to an immortal like him. “Forget I said anything. Why are you here? Another experiment?”

“Yes, but I don't know if you're… ready to do the experiment."

“Ready?” Jackie should have been delighted by this opinion, but Heather’s apparently genuine worry was making him nervous. He felt the strange urge to convince her otherwise. “Why wouldn’t I be ready?”

And now she was giving him an odd look. The way people look at little kids who don’t understand certain concepts, asking where Mister Whiskers went after getting run over by an 18-wheeler. Something like condescending pity. Jackie glowered right back at her.

“Okay,” she said after a moment’s pause. “Tell me what you see on that wall.”

“What do you see?”

“Just answer the question.”

“It’s—“ He made a few indignant gestures towards the wall. “It’s a spider! Big black thing? With the—it’s just a spider, okay? What do you want me to tell you?”

“Where, exactly, is this spider?” She approached the wall. “Over here? Am I hot or cold?”

“More to the left.”

She shifted. “Is this it?”

“Yeah.”

Her palm smacked the wall.

The spider skittered away—the only motion it had made since its debut—but it wasn’t quite right. Spiders didn’t move like that. It was more the motion of a fluttering cloth, light and liquid, practically weightless. It stopped a few inches from her hand.

Jackie blinked again, hard, as if that would somehow right this visual wrong.

“Do you believe me now?” Heather asked patiently. Patiently, as if Jackie were a live wire that needed calming down. “It’s not real.”

He didn’t know how to reply to that. It looked real, but didn’t all hallucinations? Was he hallucinating? Why? He felt phantom touches sometimes, in the gray area between sleep and starting awake, sometimes saw a shadow figure or two, but those brief imprints barely counted as hallucinating. Never an entire spider. Never as realistic as this. Never for so long—two days, if he counted correctly. Forty-eight hours.

Oh well. He’d gone insane. That was the only explanation. It would have happened sooner or later. Really, this place would drive anyone mad. Repeating that routine over and over, stuck in a single room. At least this new roommate would bring a change of pace to Jackie’s life—a spider here and there to shake up the monotony. 

“I’m sure it’ll go away,” he finally managed. “Can I have breakfast now?”

“Yes.” Heather gave him a brief nod, although she had a distracted flicker to her voice. “Tell me if anything changes.”

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

He waited, glaring at the not-spider all the while. She returned with a plate of French toast and, of course, more pills. New ones. Two pale blue capsules, with a number printed on the side—39 250 mg, whatever that meant. 

Jackie wasn’t even hungry. It was just something he said to get her to leave, or at least leave the topic of spiders alone. Asking for food became like chatting about the weather. Small talk, really, something to move the conversation along. What else could he discuss? The gorgeous basement view? 

He ate anyway. He needed to eat whenever he got the chance, so the next time she decided to starve him he’d be a little more prepared. Besides, it was a bad idea to rock the boat.

“This is just something to calm you down." She placed the capsules in his palm. "A very mild sedative. I’m not lying this time.”

“Uh-huh.” He curled his palm closed. “And I can trust you because…?”

Heather stood and waited. 

Okay, fine. It didn’t matter. Trust was a non-issue. Trust was irrelevant. His compliance was expected no matter what. “I am calm, though. Why do I need this?”

She crossed her arms now, with that impossibly condescending air. She was wearing a neat white blouse today, and her hair was tied up with a thick elastic. Jackie wondered why she bothered to look put-together whenever she visited him. Her sense of style was not at the top of his concerns. Still, he could respect the effort. It made this whole situation a little less abrasive.

He put the pills in his mouth, drank some water, then swallowed. 

This was all she needed to see. “I’ll come back soon, alright? Tell me if—“

“I’ll let you know if the spider starts doing backflips, yeah.” 

“Okay, then. Bye.”

He waved her off. The door closed. And now, he had to wait. 

In one swift motion, he collapsed back into bed. What would this new pill do? Something to calm you down was a vague description at best. With his luck, it would be one of the worst experiences of his life. At least a solid seven on the scale. 

What if he threw the pills up? Stuck two fingers down his throat and emptied his stomach into the toilet? He was sure that would work—wasn’t that how you got rid of poison? Someone from his last foster home said so. That was so long ago, though, and he learned to never believe anything shared in a conspiratorial whisper since then. At any rate, Heather would notice. Somehow, some way. She would know.

Maybe she really was being honest. Calm you down. That sounded nice. Maybe it was an anesthetic again. That was nothing to get upset over. He would prefer the painless sleep of medication if she cut out another liver, or a lung, or another one of his arms.

Half an hour passed, by his estimate. The first thing he noticed was the hazy, dim fog that started to seep in. He thought it might just be fatigue—when had he last slept?—but, no, it was not as aching as fatigue should be. Not a bone-deep ache, but a steady and opaque weight over his mind. Seeping, slowing him down the same way mud stops the wiry twitching of hares. Mud, yes—all felt muddy. As if seen through murky waters, rather than the usual roiling, boiling pot. Jackie hadn’t noticed how wound up he’d gotten until the feeling was drowned out. 

He was definitely calm. It was a pleasant sensation, he had to admit. All the worries of the material world faded to a faint blur. The metal jaw of fear rusted away at the hinge. He could lay in bed all day and not mind it one bit.

These ambitious plans were interrupted by Heather’s hand on his shoulder. 

“Hello,” she said.

He lifted his head and blinked up at her. “Hey.”

“It’s working. Good.” Papers shuffled in her hands, with scrawled notes he could not read, some blotted with wide swaths of black and blue. “Get up. We’re going to do some psychiatry.”

“Psychiatry?” The drugs did not prevent him from giving Heather a short, incredulous laugh, though that appeared to upset her. “Aren’t you a chemist?”

“Biochemist,” she corrected him curtly. “I studied under a psychiatrist once, you know. Besides, how hard can it be? It’s just asking questions.”

“Questions.” He sat up on the bed. The world itself lost some of its sharp focus. All things blurred around the edges. There was no weight or depth to be found.

“Yes. A few questions, that’s all.”

She pushed the chair forwards, in front of the bed. There was that tape recorder, as always. When had she brought it out? It lay on top of his nightstand. The spools wound themselves in infinite circles through the small plastic window, round and round, again and again and again. That perfect voyeur. A watcher’s wet dream. He didn’t have the presence of mind to be afraid.

“Look here, Jackie.” Her voice pulled him out of that trance like a whistle. “What do you see?”

He raised his head and saw that she was holding up a paper. A shape was splattered across the front. It was an inkblot—Rocher inkblot, or something that started with R, maybe Rochester? It was inked in black, symmetrical, a wide design branching out like the splash of a puddle.

“That's easy," he said. "I see an inkblot.”

“Take this seriously, please. I’m trying to help you. I won’t know why you’re hallucinating unless—“

“I get it.” He leaned forward a bit and examined the shape. “It looks a bit like a wolf’s head, doesn’t it?”

“Really? I thought it was a butterfly.”

“Butterfly?” He tilted his head at the picture. “What kind of butterfly is that?”

“No, see here?” She gestured to the tip of the drawing. “That’s the wing, and that over there—“ She gestured to the middle. “That’s the body, with the antennae on top. What kind of wolf has antennae?”

“Butterflies don’t have wings like that. Those are ears.”

“Wolves have pointy ears, though.”

“Maybe the wolf is angry. The ears would be flat.”

“Well—maybe—“ She crumpled the paper up. “You know what? No more ink blots. Don’t know what’s the point of these damned things anyway. Bunch of pseudoscience, if you ask me.”

Normally, he’d point out the flaws in that statement, but he didn’t feel quite up to it today. He was perfectly content to just let her speak while he listened, understanding none of it.

“Now,” Heather continued, “I’m going to ask you a series of questions. Answer honestly. Are you ready?”

He nodded.

“Let’s get started, then.” She cleared her throat. “Tell me about yourself.”

“Anything about myself?”

“Whatever comes to mind, yes.”

“Okay. My name is Jackie Rockwell. You kidnapped me. I live here now. I was born in April. I have black hair. I think that’s about it.”

She nodded. “That sounds right. Are you afraid of spiders?”

“No.”

“Have you ever hallucinated before?”

“Not… really.”

“Yes or no, Jackie. I don’t have time to decode your answers.”

“No.” 

“Does anybody in your family have a history of schizophrenia?”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.”

Impatience flickered across her expression. “What do you mean by that?”

“I wouldn’t know because I never asked.”

“Of course.” She sighed. “I don’t think you’re schizophrenic, anyway. But I’ll keep it in mind. How was your home? Your childhood?”

“What do you mean?”

“Was your home stable? Did you feel safe? Loved?” 

He recognized that she was simply covering the surface-level questions—did mommy and daddy love you, did you ever get hit on the head as a baby, et cetera—and it wasn’t meant to be a personal attack, but he still felt a sting of indignation. He leaned back to mask this, hoping for his answer to come off as casual. “Oh, I don’t know. It was fine. Normal.”

“Normal? How would you describe normal?”

“Uh…” It was harder to speak than usual. The drugs were cutting off the connection cables in his thoughts, washing everything out in low static.

“Did… did something happen when you were younger?” Heather leaned forward, narrowing the gap he’d made. There was a glimmer in her eyes usually only seen in curious children and stalking tigers. A sort of hunger. The thrill of the chase.

Jackie’s face fell into a slight frown. “Why would you even need to know that?”

“Listen to me.” She placed her hand on his. “You’re having a psychotic episode. If you don’t get help now, it’s going to get worse. I need to know why it’s happening, or I can’t help you. So, please, be honest. This is strictly for professional purposes. I won’t use it against you.”

He withdrew his hand. “Why do you want to help me?”

“I would rather not have a psychotic test subject. That would completely screw up my findings.”

This was a believable answer, if not a very nice one. He felt upset, but not as much as he should have been—more the upset of spilling a bit of water on the floor, or biting your tongue. Inconsequential upsets. Even though he was sure this answer would have consequences, however small. This moment would shift the delicate balance between them, even if the change was barely noticeable, even if Heather didn’t realize it. If only he had a clear mind. How was Jackie meant to be clever when he could barely remember his own name?

“This is one of those doctor things, eh, doc?” he said. “With the sofa and the clipboard. They’ve always got that chart that they point to. And then you ask me how I feel, or something.”

“I know you’re trying to change the subject, Jackie. But if the sedative works, this should be easy for you.” She tried for a smile that was probably meant to be comforting. “Answer me honestly.”

But to answer honestly was to jump from the frying pan into a slightly hotter frying pan—that is to say, it would not make him any happier. Even sedated, Jackie knew that. So, he said, “Nothing happened. It was normal.”

That made her slow down a bit. She leaned back in the chair, the glimmer in her eyes dented but not dead. She didn’t know what she was asking for. Curiosity killed the cat, right? She was too bold for her own good, or too naive, because Jackie was sure she would regret ever asking if he told her the truth. Or maybe that freak would relish every last gory detail. Either way, this was already more than he wanted her to know. Was he in a hostage situation or a psych eval? Why couldn't she just leave him alone?

Even if he wanted to talk about it, Jackie couldn't remember much. The unpleasant sensations, a few faint flashes, yes, and whatever images haunted his dreams—but he could never pinpoint the exact location or time or person involved. When the authorities took him in for questioning, they assumed his amnesia for shyness. Maybe shyness played a part, but he would have been as useful as roadkill even without the shame or fear. And he'd been so young—only twelve, if he recalled correctly. Only a kid. A stupid, weak child.

In the end, the cops got their evidence, and those were all the answers they needed. A few photographs, the weapon, and whatever the witnesses told them. What was left of his sister. The blood on the wall. The blood on the sheets. But Heather had none of that, and he intended to keep it that way. God knew she already had too much of him for keeps. Even if Jackie lost every other shred of privacy and dignity, she could pry those memories from his cold, dead lips.

His captor asked nothing else of this subject. Her expression was focused, but not on him. Those gears turned again behind her eyes, like a shadow puppet show. 

She knew enough. She knew too much. Did this fall under body, mind, or soul? All three, maybe. After all, one could argue that memory lived mainly in the body, in the repetition of muscles and the psychosomatic.

"Is the spider still there?" Heather asked at last. Her voice was distant. Distracted.

"No."

"That’s it, then. I'll see you tomorrow."

From the corner of his eye, the black shape moved. The spider's legs stuttered, as if caught by the motion of a laugh. A stilted, mocking shudder only Jackie could see.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️ !!!

Taglist:

@theelvishcowgirl

@lthrboy

@whumpy-wyrms

[hollyoongs]

STAY STILL || JAKE SIM

part two of this. dedicated to my little one @cmoundiamante

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: tasm!jake and news intern!reader (the reader is fem bodied) || 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: smut ||𝘄.𝗰: +3.6 || 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: slight dirty talk, protected sex (we freaking love), en- Ni-Ki appearence and mention of THE Tony Stark (because I can, duh), thigh and ass spanking, spitting, squirting (two times), use of spider webs, use of nicknames (good girl and nicknames).

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: Finally, you and Jake were an item, but who knew that you were so needy with each other until Ni-Ki left you two?

Months passed, each one weaving a tighter bond between you and Jake, both in your roles as lovers entwined in the delicate dance of romance. As your relationship blossomed, so too did your collaboration on Jake's dual identity as Spider-Man. With your newfound position at the newspaper, thanks to one of the pictures, you became a vital source of information. Your keen eye and insider knowledge guided Jake to the heart of the city's darkest mysteries, helping Ni-Ki with the names that your boss gave away to the writers.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the city skyline faded into the embrace of twilight, you found yourselves huddled together in the room of Jake's new apartment. The soft glow of lamplight cast shadows across the room, painting the scene with an aura of intimacy.

"Ni-Ki's been keeping tabs on the latest crime reports," Jake remarked, his voice tinged with a sense of urgency as he poured over a map spread out on the desk, all three of you eyeing it. "There's been a string of robberies in the financial district. I think you can dig up some more details."

You smiled as you reached for your laptop, your fingers dancing across the keys with practiced ease. "I got a feeling you might have asked that, and the next target is on 5th Avenue. This morning, the bank received 5 million dolars, and from what Jay told me, the same car that passed the now empty bank passed today. They will be there in any minute," you replied, your gaze locked on the screen as you took pictures of the car that Jay gave you for you to edit and the faces of the people that created the crime.

"Damn, you're right." Ni-Ki looked at your information and rapidly went to his computer, which was resting on Jake's bed. Jake looked at you, proud of you, and kissed your lips, your intelligence amusing him one more time.

"That's my girl." You smiled at what he whispered in your ear and looked back at Ni-Ki, his laptop showing how he just tracked them, showing that they would be in the bank in five minutes or less.

"She's right, 5th Avenue; you need to run," he reported, your eyes flicking between the screen and Jake's focused expression. "Suit up, insect."

Jake's brow furrowed due to the comment as he absorbed the information, his mind already formulating a plan of action while looking for his suit. "We'll need to move fast," he said, his voice resolute. "Can you keep an eye on the police scanners? I'll swing by and meet you there."

Without hesitation, you nodded, your fingers flying across the keyboard as you tapped into the city's network of law enforcement communications. With each transmission, you listened intently, your heart racing with anticipation as the minutes ticked by.

Suddenly, a crackle of static filled the room, followed by the urgent voice of a dispatcher. "All units, we've got a 10-31 in progress at the bank on 5th Avenue. Repeat, a robbery is in progress at the bank on 5th Avenue."

The words hung in the air like a harbinger of chaos, sending a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins. Without a moment's hesitation, Jake was dressed up and on his balcony. "Ni-Ki. Hack the security cameras for pictures and keep them down."

Ni-Ki nodded in response, his fingers flying over the keyboard with practiced precision as he initiated the hack, ensuring that the security cameras would remain blind to Spider-Man's presence. Meanwhile, Jake stood poised on the edge of the balcony, the familiar rush of anticipation coursing through his veins as he prepared to leap into action.

With a final glance back at you, his eyes alight with determination, Jake donned his mask, the crimson fabric transforming him into the iconic figure of Spider-Man. His form disappeared into the night, the echo of his parting words lingering in the air like a promise.

You watched from the window, your heart pounding with a mixture of fear and pride, as Spider-Man swung into the cityscape, a beacon of hope against the backdrop of darkness. With bated breath, you turned your attention back to the police scanners, your fingers trembling as you awaited news of Spider-Man's intervention.

Minutes stretched into eternity, each second filled with the weight of uncertainty. Then, amidst the static of the police chatter, a voice cut through the darkness—a voice that sent a shiver of relief coursing through your veins.

"This is Officer Ramirez. We've got a visual of the suspect. Spider-Man's on the scene."

The words were like a balm to your frayed nerves, a reassurance that Spider-Man's vigilant gaze was watching over the city. With renewed resolve, you focused on your task, relaying vital information to Spider-Man as he navigated the labyrinthine streets in pursuit of justice.

"Jake, the police are on the way. Careful." Ni-Ki said through the headseat, a gift from the one and only Tony Stark.

As the minutes ticked by, the tension in the room reached a fever pitch, with each passing moment fraught with the possibility of danger. Yet, amidst the chaos, there was a sense of unity—a shared purpose that bound you, Jake, and Ni-Ki together in a web of trust and camaraderie.

"We got the suspects, and we recovered the stolen goods. Spider-Man did it again." It was a hard-won yet undeniably sweet victory, a testament to the unwavering dedication of Spider-Man and his allies.

With a sense of relief washing over you like a wave, you leaned back in your chair, the tension draining from your body as you allowed yourself a moment of respite. You and Ni-Ki high-five each other, smiling because of it.

"Good job, Spidey. Come back here," you said after getting an affirmative answer from him. Ni-Ki and you took your headsets as you started to clean up everything, and Ni-Ki turned off the computers and other devices. You looked up at the Japanese boy for a moment. "Are you going to stay for dinner?"

"I would love too, but the projects are piling up and they are due in three days."

"Then let me know when you do that so I can take you out to eat."

"You know? Jake Hyung is not that attractive; date me instead."

"Get lost, Ni-Ki." The voice of Jake entered the conversation, and you saw how your boyfriend took off his mask, giving him a death stare. You watched him, and your cheeks got slightly red. His appearance at the moment was far from what you were used to, and you happened to be months into this, but you couldn't get used to his messy hair, glasses off his face, and small grins he gave me after. 

"Okay, don't be too petty about it. Remember who made the move, so you can pull her."

"God, please stop." He went to find some clothes to put on as he walked to the bathroom. Ni-Ki stood in front of you, putting his stuff in his backbag.

"I'm definitely going to tell you I need free food." You were watching behind him, seeing Jake's back flexing as he put on a shirt that had "Best Nephew" written on the front with textil paint, a gift from his aunt when she took an art class. 

"Yeah, Ni-Ki. Anytime." You smiled at the boy when he looked up to you and gave you a warm hug. Ni-Ki waited for Jake to come out, and he slapped his butt in goodbye. "Eat a lot for me."

And that was the last thing he said after leaving Jake's department. You kept cleaning up the mess and organizing it carefully. Once you did that, you looked out for Jake's gaze in your figure and took it out when you noticed it.

"Do you want to eat? We can make a call," he said, shaking his head in negation.

"I'm so tired." His voice sounded tired. You looked at his lips; there was a wound in them with slightly fresh blood, and you went up to his closet, taking the first aid kit. You took a seat next to him, opening it carefully and pulling out some antiseptics and bandages.

"Let me take care of that," you said softly, your voice a gentle reassurance as you reached out to dab the antiseptic on his wound. Jake winced slightly, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he let you tend to him, his gaze fixed on yours with a mixture of gratitude and something else—something deeper, more intense.

As you cleaned the wound, the atmosphere in the room shifted, and the tension between you was palpable. You could feel the heat of Jake's body radiating against your skin, his breath mingling with yours in the small space between you.

"We did it," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he reached out to cup your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "Having you on the team, it's so much better. Not because I hate working with Ni-Ki; he's been my best friend ever since I was 5, but... you get me."

You met his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest as you searched his eyes for any sign of hesitation, finding his and loving every part of it. But aside from the shyness of the comment, what you found was raw, unbridled desire—the same desire that burned within you, threatening to consume you both in its fiery embrace.

"It's okay," you whispered, your voice barely audible as you leaned into his touch, your lips hovering just inches away from his. "I also like working with both of you."

And then, in a moment of pure, unadulterated passion, Jake closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours in a fervent kiss. It was like nothing you had ever experienced before—the taste of him, the feel of his lips moving against yours, igniting a fire deep within your soul.

"Jake, your wound-"

"Fuck the wound." He once again kissed you, his hand on the back of your neck as he caressed your cheek.

You responded eagerly, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss with every passing second. It was a dance of tongues and teeth, a symphony of desire and longing that threatened to consume you both in its intensity. You separate from him, putting the aid near the desk as you push the guy to the desk.

It was not the first time sexually for both of you; there were actually a couple times you guys did it. Being together for the first time was magical because Jake wanted to make sure it was as perfect as you were. Also, your work and his were a big problem, as was being with Ni-Ki's when all three were working together to help Jake with his missions. So everything got heated in that moment, Jake, specifically when he saw you and prayed to the gods above to stay alone with you. 

Because you came right after work to help, you were in your mandatory office when they didn't want you to take pictures. A black blouse that was about to get ruined by your boyfriend, a grey and short pencil skirt, combining perfectly with your black stockins and heels.

You started first with the skirt, Jake eyes not wanting to miss your movements as he played with his t-shirt, both of your pieces falling on the ground, and you kicked yours to the side, your fingers moving through the buttons, and finally revealing your bra. The blouse went to the same place as your skirt, and when you moved your hands to your back to free your breasts,.

You felt something sticky around your waist that made you stop yourself to remove your bra. You watched Jake only with his pants on, showing his bulge; his glasses were lower on his nose and his left arm extended, one of his spider webs shooting right to you as he smirked slightly, getting closer to you but leaving some space.

"Don't do it, baby," he said, pulling the web strong enough to actually touch your waist with his hand and take the back of one of your knees. "Let's leave it on." He took the web from his hand and threw it somewhere as he started kissing you. 

The world outside faded into obscurity as you and Jake succumbed to the primal urge that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long. Bodies intertwined, hearts pounding in sync, every touch sending electric shocks of pleasure coursing through your veins.

Once again, Jake took a seat on the bed, leaving you on top of him. Jake's hands roamed over your body, mapping every curve and contour with reverent adoration, while your own fingers traced the lines of his muscles, memorizing every inch of him as if committing him to memory. Your hands stopped on his pants, a sign he took, and he left you on the bed, watching him remove his pants and underwear all together.

Jake's adoration for you ignited with every kiss, each one a testament to the preciousness in his eyes. Yet, it was in the fiery trail left by his fingertips, tracing your body with a hunger that matched your desire, where his passion blazed with an intensity that left you breathless. 

He traced his way from your lips to your neck, sucking slightly and biting all along. Your eyes were close, and you could feel how your underwear was getting sticky. You moaned when Jake's hand pressed one of your boobs like a stress reliever ball. Your hand went to the back of his head, softly pulling his curly hair.

Jake left your neck alone, moving his head to your chest, and without removing your bra, he let your boobs out, his mouth hungry for your nipples. This time, you couldn't help the rest of the moans coming from out of your mouth. Jake was obsessed with your boobs when he realized it was your sensitive part. After a few minutes, he left them alone, a string of saliva connecting it with one of them.

"Please..."

"What do you need, baby?"

"I need you to make me feel good." Jake gave you another smile, taking off his glasses and putting them in your face.

"Only if you look at me with those pretty eyes through my glasses. Promise?" You nodded, your mind getting blurry due to him still giving you feathery kisses on your body. You saw your clothed legs on his shoulders, his face facing your dripping entrance; he licked your covered entrance at first, his eyes not leaving your face and neither yours, but it was harder for you, the pleasure pilling up making your face scrunch.

He moved aside your underwear, and his tongue touched your clitoral area. You were wet; you just knew it when you heard the gasp. Jake will always let you out whenever he sees your cunt, just like the first time. He went nice and slow, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. You grabbed one of your breasts, and your fingers stopped on the nipple of the other one. Your eyes shut down. Jake gave you a slight slap on your thigh that made you look at him, meeting his strong gaze.

He went up and down, even leaving some hickeys, making you wet enough to be ready for the intercourse. His mouth is attached to your clitoral area, and his middle and ring fingers are going inside you with ease, touching that sweet spot. You threw your head back and your back arched in pleasure; now you were gasping for air, your hands in Jake's hair, messing it up. You just couldn't look at Jake anymore; the pleasure was getting too much for you to handle. You couldn't see it, but your actions eventually pissed him off.

He now slapped you ass harder than before, and now you were a moaning mess, still not looking at him. Focusing too much on trying not to cum. 

"That's enough." He left your entrance without saying a word, making you finally look at him. His dick was up and proud, ready to meet your entrance eagerly. You moved your hands to reach it, but instead you got him pushing you back to the mattres as he shot once again his spiderweb directly to your wrists, right above your head. "You couldn't keep your promise, and you know I hate when people break promises."

"Jake, stop playing around and take this out of me."

"You're not allowed to touch me."

"Jake, please." He watched you as you whined in complaint. His hand went to each side of your face, touching the bed and looking at you with an innocent face.

"Look at me and tell me you don't like to be this way." It was like your tongue got eaten by a cat; you couldn't say anything because, deep down, you actually thought about it. You shut your legs close, making him look down as you tried not to get obvious, but you were, and Jake knew that.

"What are you going to do?" The moment you said that, you heard the fabric of your underwear being ripped apart. You opened your mouth in shock as you watched Jake open a condom to put in his throbbing dick, pumping it a few times before. He aligned himself, covering his covered dick with your fluids.

"Stay still, unless you don't want to cum," he said, opening your entrance once and for all. His hands moved your legs up to maintain them around his hips while he waited for you to be comfortable. You tried to move your hands to touch his arms, but the web was something only Jake could remove.

His movements were as slow as the oral you received from him; his thumb in your clitoral area created circles, and his right hand moved up to your jaw, making you literally unable to move. Jake eyes were looking at you, watching how the pleasure consumed you and tears were forming in your eyes. "Fuck, your eyes are so pretty. Does my baby wants me to go faster?"

You couldn't even speak, babbling incoherent words to him with the hand on your jaw, applying a small amount of strength to it. "Big girl words."

"Yes, Jake, please go faster."

"You're such a good girl." His hips just moved at the speed you wanted, and once again, you were a mess. You thanked mentally that he moved out of his aunt's place, because if she heard you now, she was most likely to think about other stuff. "My fucking good girl."

"Yes, I'm your fucking good girl!. Please, don't stop." It was costing you to keep eye contact; his movements were as good as he looked, and you could feel the head of his dick hit your G spot, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

An idea popped out of your brain, and you looked back at him. You opened your mouth and let your tongue out. Jake forgot his role for a second and later smirked at you. He collected saliva and dropped it in your mouth. You swallowed it and showed him the inside of it without his spit; that was his sign to move your legs back to his shoulders and move faster than before.

"God, you're so good to me, baby."

"You too, Jake. You make me feel so good." You could feel the knot on your stomach and that clear sensation of cumming in any minute.

In the heat of passion, there were no words—only gasps and moans, the symphony of your lovemaking filling the room with its sweet yet sensual melody. Time seemed to stand still as you and Jake became lost in each other, the world outside fading into insignificance as you forged a connection that transcended the boundaries of mere mortal existence. In that moment, there were only the two of you, bound together in a whirlwind of passion and desire that knew no bounds.

"Jake, I'm cumming so bad. I'm going to make a mess."

"Then make a mess; make that mess just for me, baby." Jake lips meet yours in a way to stop you from moaning louder than it was, biting his bottom lip when his fingers went to your right nipple and his other gave pleasure to your clitoral area. You heard you squirt loud and clear because of Jake's constant movements into you.

Jake hid his head on your neck, hearing him growl and gasp for air as he came undone, but he never stopped his thrusts, your tears acumulating and wetting your cheeks as they went down. Something that you both loved was overstimulation. Your legs started to get shaky, and Jake thrust was getting sloppy, but the speed was still there. You could see white dots in your vision as you felt yet another knot in your abdomen.

"Jake, please loosen the spiderweb."

"Why baby?"

"I want to touch you so bad as I cum." With his strength, he took it off you and pulled you, you now, being on top of him as he controlled your movements. You held onto his shoulders as he kissed you one last time, practically hugging you, and vice versa.

"Cum for me; please do it." And so you did it—another squirt without a break from the one before, your body shaking in Jake's embrace. A few minutes passed as your shakes became none, Jake's hand on your cheek as he cleaned your face from the tears and sweat.

"Was I too hard? Did you like it?" There was once again Jake, whom you always loved. The shy one that could barely look at your naked body, the same one he marked as his with hickeys and bites, returned his glasses and fixed his messy hair, having him playfully move to your touch.

"I loved it; I never thought you had that side to you."

"Well, the night is young. Isn't it?"

↷ 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚢'𝚜 note: I want an spidey Jake so bad, my dreams cannot cope with the need. @ja3yun @kwiwin @glitterjay @enha-stars enjoy pookies 🦋

[harunayuuka2060]

MC: How's everyone's experience? *while smiling in amusement*

The first-years: *cheering*

The sophomores: *yells* NOT GOOD!

MC: Ara! Why is that? *pretends to be shocked*

Professor Crewel: Misbehaving puppies, you have no reason to complain when the sophomores were allowed to use magic while the freshmen couldn't.

Professor Vargas: You were all so cocky before the event started!

*The third-years who have watched the scene unfold*

*The first years beating their senpais at their own game*

Lilia: This teacher is quite amazing. Wouldn't you agree, Malleus?

Malleus: Yes. Teaching the students not to depend so much on using magic.

Vil: We could understand why as they're someone who can't use magic themselves, however...

Lilia and Malleus: ...

Vil: Judging by how they have influenced these students, it might be that they know more than their field.

Deuce: Let us treat you, housewarden sir!

Ace: Yeah. Bet your back hurt from falling from the spider web.

Riddle: And whose fault do you think is that?!

Ace: You wouldn't have fallen if you didn't mind our teasing, but no.

MC: That's right, Mr. Rosehearts. In fact, it wasn't any difficult. Mr. Trappola and Mr. Spade only triggered you ever so slightly.

Riddle: Gnghh!!!

MC: *pats his head* Now I'm thinking that you need a whole lot of self-meditation.

Riddle: I don't need that! I—

Riddle: *suddenly falls asleep*

Ace and Deuce: ...

Ace: When will you teach that to us?

MC: Next class. *smiles*

Floyd: Hello, guppy~.

Jade: That was a fantastic performance.

Epel: Floyd-senpai and Jade senpai...

Floyd: You moved so fast that my eyes couldn't keep up.

Jade: And we were not able to sense you at all.

Epel: That's all thanks to MC-sense—

Epel: *got hit by a piece of folded paper on the nose* Ow...

Jade: Are you alright, Epel?

Epel: Yes. By the way, Sensei doesn't like it when I don't take credit for my hardwork.

Jade: *chuckles* Why, they're certainly right with that.

Floyd: But, who hit you with that?

Epel: Sensei.

Jade and Floyd: *starts looking around*

Floyd: From where?

Jack and Sebek: *arguing, because they almost got caught by the sophomores when they were trying to conceal their presence*

Jack: I told you to shut your big mouth.

Sebek: Your ears were poking out!

Silver: Why it should matter when you've won?

Ruggie: Yeah.

Sebek: You don't understand! Sensei wouldn't excuse that—

MC: Sebek~ My favorite student. Have you not learned a thing or two about teamwork?

Sebek: ...

Jack: ...

MC: And you too, Mr. Howl. Though it was my mistake for partnering you two.

Jack: Sorry, sensei...

Sebek: P-Please don't blame yourself, sensei!

MC: Hmm... *chuckles* But it's okay. You have improved a lot. I hope you both are ready for more advanced lessons.

MC: Isn't that right, Mr. Kingscholar?

Leona: !!! *shocked as to how they know he's approaching from behind*

Ruggie and Silver: ...

The professors: *having a meeting after the event*

Crowley: Is everyone here except Professor MC?

The professors: Yes.

Crowley: Hm. I think everyone has understood the purpose of this event.

Crowley: ...

Crowley: We've been neglecting the majority of them!

Professor Trein: Headmage, no... That's not it.

Professor Crewel: The purpose of the event is to show that our students are capable of learning much more. As proven by the first-years.

Crowley: O-Oh. Is that so?

Professor Vargas: We should think more outside the box!

MC: The students are uniquely intelligent enough. Just lacking when it comes to application. Hehe~.

Crowley and the professors: *screaming*

Crowley: H-How long have you been here?

MC: A few minutes ago. I was resting on the ceiling. *smiles cutely*

Crowley and the professors: ...

[shayyprasad]

my peter | peter parker

takes place during no way home, tw: cursing maybe, mentions of suicide

i dont i remember the movie, and i couldn't pull it up so enjoy this made up script that loosely follows that plot with multiple time gaps :)

ghostspider!reader (yall the ghostspider was researched for like 15 minutes and i have the most vague understanding of it)

summary: you end up in peter's world... just not your peter's. (takes place during no way home.)

word count: 2.0k-ish words

i didn't know how i ended up here. on second i was there... and then... i wasn't.

i remember falling, i think. from something tall? a building. yeah, a building. no. we were- we were on a clock tower? at the top. and the last thing i remember is a gunshot. shot directly at my webs-wings...?

i was falling, and then i wasn't.

i pulled myself up against the wall of the dark alleyway, shivering as the cold air wrapped itself around me, sending goosebumps down my skin. i simply couldn't remember how i'd gotten here, and it was killing me. i staggered out, my vision blurry. i hovered my hand in the air, faint blue sparks crackling.

my eyes widened when i heard loud honking, and bright lights seared into my line of sight. i opened my mouth to scream, but suddenly a blur of blue and red swung by me, and then my feet weren't in the ground. i buried my nose into the neck of whoever it was, and it only took one thing to figure out who it was.

his smell. he smelled like love and pinewood and all the sweet things. and as creepy as it probably sounded, he smelled distinct, like home. he was home.

he was peter.

even after he'd set me down somewhere, i still let my arms linger for a moment longer. or two.

"uh, ma'am? i-"

my eyes glazed over, because here he was. here was peter. but how? wasn't he dead? my peter was dead, right?

"peter, love, is- is that you? how-... oh my god. i- i thought you were dead- you have no idea how happy i am to see you. i'm actually going crazy, aren't i? you wouldn't believe it. because one second, i'm on the clock tower and then you're here and i'm in an alley. what happened?"

he was stuttering, and clearly struggling to piece together a sentence. "w-who's peter? i'm not- i'm not peter," peter said, laughing nervously.

"can you not, babe? i'm in a dilemma. like, dilemma dilemma. no joking right now. like... you're here. right now. in front of me... but... you're dead."

"i'm not peter, and not dead." he added.

"hon, we've literally been over this. i know you're spider-man. remember when i walked into you changing out of the suit? because, like, not to brag, i knew something was up."

"look, lady, i've got no idea who you are, but you need to chill. i don't know who you think i am, but i'm certainly not him. please let me take you home, or to your asylum, or wherever it is that you live."

"pete, this isn't funny."

"yeah, i get that. and i'm not peter."

"yes, you are. you're peter parker, age nineteen, you live with your aunt, and you swing around in speedos all day for fun. i think i know who my fucking boyfriend is, all right? now tell me what's going on, like, right now."

he was speechless, and i took that as an opportunity to rip his mask off his face, causing him to yelp in shock. i could see anger knitted onto his eyebrows, and tucked fiercely behind his eyes. "what the hell-!"

in every way possible, he was peter benjamin parker. except one.

i ran my thumb over his left cheekbone, brushing the spot gently.

my peter parker had a scar across that part of his skin, and i knew that because i kissed him there every morning. right? ...right?

so what on earth was going on?

"you- you don't..." i took a half step back, and i knew he said something, but i couldn't hear him. my heart was thudding so loudly in my chest, i could hear it in my ears. when i turned around, i saw a large building, and on it was a giant "a", lit up and shining like a christmas tree.

since when was that there? since when was...?

and the more i looked, the more i could pick things out. many, many things. like the fact that there was a delmar's? as far as i knew, that didn't exist. it didn't... it wouldn't- but then what was i looking at? what was happening?

my head was aching, and it felt like the migraine i had would kill me.

fuzzy images swirled around in my brain, pressed towards the back of my head.

"-under arrest."

"she can't-"

screaming.

"-murdered harry-"

"he tried to-"

"-killed peter.

"peter-... suicide-"

"no-"

fuzzy again.

more screaming.

"-doesn't justify her actions-"

"she-"

god, the screaming. it was drilling itself into my head, burning into my memory. and it wouldn't stop. it wouldn't- wouldn't stop.

peter was dead. harry was dead. and i was wanted for- no. no, no, no, this couldn't be happening. i was- i-

i took another step forward and i felt the the floor behind me disappear. only then did it hit me that i was on the high piller of a big bridge. i heard a thwip behind me. and i was pulled back, my back hitting something. tilting my head up, i saw peter's (was it even him?) confused expression, before it morphed into something of understanding. like he knew somthing i didn't.

"you're right. i am peter parker. but i'm not your peter parker. i, uh, i'm not really sure how to explain it, but this isn't your universe."

"i- i don't-"

"i know, i know. i can help you, but only if you trust me. can you do that?"

i didn't even comprehend the fact i was nodding, because not even a second later, i was holding onto him for dear life and swinging.

-

things had happened (not many) since i'd met him. met? was that the right word? because i'd met him before, and god, i'd done a little more than just love him. but i think this was different. maybe because i... i was in a different universe? multiverse? he tried to explain it to me, but my brain still hadn't caught up.

also, i cried.

a lot.

and then i stopped. because my tear ducts were dead, and it didn't feel real. so i ignored anything that had already happened, and focused on what was about to happen.

everything was hazy, and i couldn't figure it out.

for some reason, being near this peter made me feel safe. because he looked the same, talked the same, and acted the same. i pulled his hands to me, holding them in mine. my lips were pressed in a thin line, and my eyes were watering, briming with tears.

he could tell i was scared. i think he was, too, because he didn't let go. he stayed by me.

when would i go home? go back to peter? not any peter, my peter. was i even going to get to go home?

i wasn't alone here. we were in some... basement? it doesn't matter. anyways, there were other people. three were in some weird cell thing, and there was a boy, maybe around peter's age, talking to another man.

he was tall and had a fancy looking cape around him that i could only wish i had. he was awesome, i decided.

"hey, uh, girl," he nodded towards me, and on instict i sat up a little straighter. "do me a favor, yeah?" he asked me, but i got the sense that it was rhetorical, so i didn't answer. "go- go stand over there," the man squinted and pointed his finger toward a small corner, secluded slightly."

"dr. strange?" peter inquired, "what are you-"

"uh-bup-bup-bup. no talking, spiderling."

i made brief contact with the curly hair boy and dropped my hands, standing up to do what he was saying. at this point, i'd figured that it was better not to question cape guy. but the second i got there, i hear a whoosh of air behind me. turning around, i saw that they were trapped in the same translucent cage.

"hey!" peter yelled, "what the fuck did you do? does it look like she's of any harm at all?"

i paused. they weren't in it. i was. sucking in a breath, i stumbled backwards, hitting the wall. i just wanted to go home. i didn't ask for this. i didn't ask for any of this. i just wanted to go home. to peter. to my peter.

"what's the point, anyways?" strange retorted. "she can't go home, now can she? and she sure as hell can't stay here."

peter didn't say anything, so strange continued. "she's gonna die, peter, and there's nothing we can do." he looked at me, "i'm sorry."

"no," i murmured, so quietly i was suprised to hear myself. "you aren't sorry. don't shit yourself. you don't care. and why would you? this doesn't concern you, you selfish bastard."

"she can stay here," ned piped up. "with us. s-she can help us- an-and..."

"yeah!" peter exclaimed. my heart beat a little faster then.

strange sighed and shook his head, "i don't think you understand the consequences-"

"so what do i do then? go ahead, enlighten me. take her home to die? because, yeah, that makes me a great hero."

"kid, it's not about-"

"she's staying. she's helping us send them home... and then- and then she can stay." he looked over at me, "you do want to stay, right?"

i shrugged. what was left at home for me anyways? death row? maybe i could have a fresh start. here, with... peter. could he be my peter?

"yes. i do."

"then it's settled, let her out," ned declared.

-

pete and i were outside, on the roof. we weren't talking, but the silence between us was enough. i lit small blue sparks in my hand, playing with them. it was nice. it was comforting.

"so, uh- woah. that- that's awesome!"

i looked over at him. "huh? oh. yeah. i'm like you, but not."

he looked confused, so i took it upon myself to elaborate.

"well, you're spider-man. i'm- i'm ghost spider. long story. don't wanna go into it."

"it's okay. i can't do that. i can stick to walls," he grinned, making me snicker.

"oh, what a skill."

"how'd you get here?" peter asker, once the giggles died down.

i sucked in a breath, "harry osborne? i don't think you have one. he was my peter's best friend. got into an argument because harry was sick and he needed peter's blood to... i dunno, heal? get better? anyways, peter wouldn't give it to him because of the possible effects his blood could have, because of the spider bite."

he nodded, signaling me to continue, "harry pulled some crazy shit, turned into a crazy flying green man... and... he killed my peter." my voice cracked towards the end.

"i- i'm so sorry."

"it's okay. harry made it look like a suicide, but i knew. i knew and that was enough. harry owed oscorp, which is like the stark industries. who's gonna pin it on a rich white man? no one. i guess i had enough... and i killed him. the world found out and they all wanted ghost-spider dead. so... yeah. i don't really remember how exactly, but i fell from a clock tower. i know that if i tried, i could've saved myself. but i- i didn't want to."

"i'm sorry." he said again, because what else was there to say? "i lost my... you."

"what?"

"my mj. strange says there's a version of every person in every alternate universe. mj was you. i couldn't save her."

"that's the worst part of this job. you can't save the ones that matter the most."

"yeah," he murmured solemnly.

"i'm glad that if i'm stuck here, i'm stuck here with you."

he smiled, dropping his head onto my lap, and i quietly played with his hair.

-

"oh my god. we did it. we- we did it!"

"yeah," he said quietly.

"oh, peter, i'm so, so, so sorry. about- about all this. about may, and about the whole world, well, except me, forgett-"

"it's okay," peter smiled softly, pulling me close to him. "because... at least i got something good out of it," and with that, i'm proud to say, he kissed me.

yes, we were still grieving. but it would be okay. because we'd do it together.

my peter.

[chimachapterbooks]

A Web of Wood

“This place is crazy," said Gorzan as the group walked down a shadowy jungle path. "I've never seen plants like this before."

"Well, it gives me the creeps," said Worriz. "In case you didn't notice, we're boxed in on every side. We couldn't get off this road if we wanted to."

Worriz was right. Thick tangles of vines surrounded the warriors with broad leaves and dozens of long, sharp thorns on each strand.

The only one who seemed to be enjoying this part of the journey was Rogon's Rhinoceros Legend Beast. He happily trudged along, sniffing leaves as they went.

The friends had saved the Rhinoceros Legend Beast from the Outland Tribes a few days before. Now, the Beast was joining them on their journey. As the heroes continued through the jungle, the great Rhino discovered that the green leaves on the vines tasted really good. So he kept lagging behind to munch on them.

Suddenly, Eris swooped down from above. She had been scouting the path ahead for danger. "Oh, Laval, we've got trouble!" she called.

"What now?" groaned Cragger. "Bats? Scorpions? Pits of flame? Toxic mud creatures forty feet high?"

"I think you have to see it to believe it," said Eris. "Go around the bend. You can't miss it."

Laval and the group did as she said. When they rounded the corner, they stopped and stared. A few of them rubbed their eyes to make sure they weren't seeing things.

Looming in front of them was an enormous Spider Web unlike anything they had ever seen. It was as wide as the jungle path and rose at least sixty feet into the air. But it wasn't made out of Spider silk-it was made out of wood!

The Spiders had meticulously constructed the towering web out of thick tree trunks, locking them together to form an impassable blockade.

"It's a barrier," said Laval, "and I'm not sure how we can get through it."

"Why go through when we can go over?" asked Razar.

"He's right," said Eris. "Razar and I can fly above it. Maybe together we can carry the rest of you, one by one." Laval took a few steps back and peered up at the web.

Yes, it wasn't so high that the Eagle and Raven couldn't make it over. The top part did look kind of strange, though.

In the upper sections of the web, there were rows and rows of smaller tree limbs with sharpened ends. All of them were lined up so that their points faced the sky.

"What do you think, Worriz?" asked Laval.

The Wolf frowned. He didn't know much about Spiders or their webs, but he did know a lot about traps. This thing gave him a bad feeling.

"I think it can't be that easy," Worriz replied. "But if those two want to try it, let 'em. I don't have any better ideas."

Laval looked at Eris and nodded once. She immediately shot up into the sky, soaring toward the top of the web.

Just as she started to pass over it, one of the sharpened tree limbs shot out at her! Eris screeched in surprise and just barely managed to dodge it.

A second one grazed her wing and almost knocked her out of the sky. Shaken, she flew back to the ground.

"Wow," Eris said, shaking her head. "That thing is dangerous!"

Bladvic the Bear opened his sleepy eyes. "Knock it down," he said through a yawn.

"Right, and how do we do that without bringing it down on our heads?" asked Laval.

But the Bear had fallen back to sleep again. Laval didn't bother to wake him. The answer was obvious:

There was no way to bring the web down without risking everyone being crushed. Even trying to carefully take it apart would be risky-one wrong move and the whole thing could crash to the ground.

"Maybe we could dig a tunnel and go underneath it?" suggested Eris.

"It would have to be an awfully huge tunnel," said Cragger. "Rogon's Legend Beast isn't exactly slim... and with the way he's eating those leaves, he's just going to get bigger."

"How about climbing it?" asked Gorzan. "I could go first, since I'm the best climber. Might be a groovy experience."

"Or your last," said Worriz. "What we need is someone who knows all about Spiders and their webs."

"Ha! The thing is simplicity itself!"

Everybody turned around at once. The words had come from Rogon. His whole expression had changed from dull and friendly to confident and brilliant. His eyes gleamed and his mouth curled into a knowing smile.

"Oh, here we go again," sighed Worriz.

Ever since they had freed Rogon's Legend Beast, something odd had been happening. Whenever the Legend Beast got close to Rogon, the young Rhino suddenly went from not too bright to incredibly smart.

But if the Legend Beast wandered away, Rogon would go back to his old self.

"Hey, if he has an idea, I want to hear it," said Laval,

"An idea?" said Rogon. "Why, it's so easy a calf could figure it out."

"Great," said Worriz. "Let's find a calf and ask him, then."

"No, let's give him a chance," said Laval. "Rogon, do you know a way to take the web apart?"

"Naturally," said Rogon. "You can take it apart quite easily... from the other side."

"Well, that's a lot of help," grumbled Worriz. "Got any more good news?"

Rogon chuckled. "Oh, my Wolfish friend, how amusing.

The answer to our problem is obvious to anyone who understands Spider methods of construction. It's all about safe strands, you see."

"Safe strands?" asked Cragger. "What are those?"

Rogon looked over his shoulder, then back at the Crocodile. "Um, I don't know. Is this a test? I didn't know we were having a test today."

"The Legend Beast wandered away again," growled Laval. "Somebody go get him back."

"I'll go," said Worriz.

The Wolf ran off. Most of the leaves near where the team was standing had been eaten, so Worriz guessed the Legend Beast had gone back down the path looking for any he had missed. Sure enough, that was where he found the great creature. It only took a little gentle persuasion to get him heading in the right direction.

Once the Legend Beast was back with the group, Rogon's manner abruptly changed.

"Now, where was I? Oh, yes, safe strands ... When a Spider builds a web, he can't very well make it so that he himself will get stuck when walking on it, right?"

"That makes sense," agreed Laval.

"So, some strands are not sticky," explained Rogon. "They are safe for the Spider to walk on."

"Hey, I see it now," said Gorzan. "There must be some pieces of that web that are safe for us to climb on. Those are the ones the Spiders used when they were building it. If we can figure out which ones they are, we can make it through."

"What about the Legend Beast?" asked Eris. "He can't climb."

"Never fear, my avian ally," said Rogon. "I have ideas about that, too. But first..."

Rogon stood very still and stared at the web for a few minutes. Then he nodded. "Yes. Oh, how interesting, a fine piece of work indeed. There is a precise mathematical pattern to the placement of the pieces. Using that knowledge, I can safely chart our course through the web. Follow me!"

One by one, the travelers started to climb up the giant wooden structure. Rogon patiently led them, moving carefully from tree trunk to tree trunk. Everyone had been warned to do exactly what he did.

“A single misstep," Rogon reminded them, "and we will end up at the bottom of a very large woodpile."

They had made it about halfway through the web when Rogon stopped. "Hmmmm," he said.

"Hmmmm, what?" asked Laval. "Is that a good hmmmm or a bad hmmmm?"

"The pattern has been altered," said Rogon. "They changed something ... let me see ... oh, yes, I see it now, it's ... it's.."

"What?" Laval asked loudly.

"Wow, it's cool up here," Rogon answered. "But how do we get down?"

Laval slapped a hand to his forehead. Cragger would have beaten his head against one of the tree trunks if he knew which ones were safe. Instead, Laval said, "Worriz. Legend Beast. Now."

Grumbling, the Wolf retraced his path and went to find the Legend Beast. Meanwhile, the wait had made Bladvic doze off again. His head started to droop, and he slumped against one of the pieces of the web. Eris spotted what was happening and lunged at him, struggling to lift his head off the tree trunk.

"He hit the wrong piece!" she shouted as the others nearby helped her prop up the Bear.

But it was too late. The web was already starting to teeter. High above, pieces were rocking with enough force to disconnect from one another.

"Let's go!" said Cragger. "What difference does it make how we get over now as long as we make it over?"

"Wait, there's still a chance, if Worriz brings back the Legend Beast," said Laval. "Hang on!"

They could see Worriz in the distance. But the huge Rhino behind him kept stopping to snack on the few leaves he could spot. Worriz looked back in frustration.

Too bad that web doesn't have leaves, the Wolf thought. Hey, wait a minute...

Moving as fast as he could, Worriz raced back and forth down the trail, gathering as many leaves as he could.

Once he had a large armful, he ran back toward the web.

The Legend Beast picked up the scent of his new favorite food and followed.

By the time Worriz reached the web the Legend Beast was close enough for Rogon to become smart again.

"Drop the leaves and get up here," Razar yelled.

"He'll eat them all in a couple of seconds and wander off again," Worriz replied. "We need to keep him close to Rogon."

Arms full of leaves, Worriz somehow managed to climb back up to where he had been. Fortunately, being a Wolf, his nose was sensitive enough to follow the scent of his companions across the right pieces of the web.

"See? It's working!" said Worriz. "He's not wandering away!"

"Indeed," said Rogon. "But it is perhaps too successful of a plan. Look!"

Worriz glanced down. The hungry Legend Beast really wanted the leaves Worriz was carrying and was trying to climb the web himself!

"Go! Go! Go!" Laval yelled at Rogon.

Rogon climbed as fast as he could, his amazing brain able to spot every change in the pattern that the Spiders had built into the web. The others raced along behind him, being careful to step where he stepped even as the web shook all around them.

"Success!" yelled Rogon as he made it safely over to the other side of the web. He climbed down about halfway and then jumped toward the ground, rolling for a long way before coming to a stop. Laval and the rest followed after him, but there was no time to celebrate.

The web was still in danger of collapsing on the Legend Beast.

"Rogon," said Laval, "we need to take this thing down! Can you do it?"

The Rhino nodded and said, "Yes, I see the key. There had to be a way the Spiders could dismantle this, and what they can do, we can do! But we'd better do it fast."

"I know!" cried Laval as one of the tree limbs tumbled off the web, crashing beside him. "Tell us what to do!"

Rogon explained, "Our resident masters of aviation must help us disassemble the ingenious contraption from an elevated level while we un-winged companions assist from our terrestrial positions."

The others looked at him in complete confusion.

"What?!" they cried together.

Rogon smiled. "The spikes at the top only point the other way. They are no longer a threat to our winged allies. Eris and Razar must fly up and drop us the logs one by one."

Quickly, the Eagle and Raven shot up into the sky. But on the other side, the Rhino Legend Beast was becoming very frustrated that he couldn't get to the leaves Worriz was holding. He started to grunt and snort, nudging at the web with his giant horn. The entire web teetered.

"He's going to collapse itl" cried Laval.

Razar called down to Worriz. "My friend, you must keep the Beast distracted while we do our part, or we are all doomed."

"He's right!" exclaimed Eris. "Worriz, run back and forth so the Legend Beast chases after you instead of trying to break through the web. That will give us time to take it apart."

"You want me to do what?" exclaimed Worriz. "Uggh. Fine. But just watch where you're dropping those logs. Remember, I'm the only thing keeping that Beast from bringing down the whole web on top of us all."

Grumbling loudly, Worriz began running back and forth on his side of the web. He held out the leaves in plain sight for the Legend Beast to see.

The plan worked. The Legend Beast chased after him to the right edge of the web ... then to the left... then back again. The ground trembled with its thundering footsteps. But at least it wasn't trying to collapse the web.

Swiftly, Razar and Eris dismantled the tottering contraption piece by piece from the top. Each time they pulled off a new log they would drop it down to their friends below. They followed Rogon's instructions exactly on which pieces to pull out next.

Soon, the heroes were surrounded by piles and piles of wood. But there was no more web.

The Legend Beast happily lumbered over the dismantled branches and began munching on the leaves Worriz was holding.

"That was a close one." Laval breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Rogon. Without you, we would have been goners."

"Hey, what about me?" complained Worriz. "I was the one who got that Legend Beast close enough to keep Rogon smart, and I'm the one who distracted it while you took that giant web apart. Where's my thanks?"

Just then, the Legend Beast sniffed Worriz. The tasty scent of leaves still lingered on the Wolf's fur. The Legend Beast gave Worriz a great big lick.

"It seems you have your thanks, my friend," said Razar.

"Yeah." Laval chuckled. "As long as you smell like those leaves, that Legend Beast won't be wandering away from us anymore."

Worriz groaned as the Legend Beast licked him again. "Some thanks."

Everyone laughed.

[thespidersweb]

Welcome to the Spider-Verse

Maybe you've just watched Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse and your head is buzzing with ideas for alternate dimensions. Maybe you're still waiting to go see it but you've come up with a spidersona anyway. Or maybe you made a spidersona (or venomsona!) back in 2018, but you're only coming back to them now.

It doesn't matter how you got here. What matters is that there's a place for you.

Join the Spider's Web! We're a Discord server founded in 2019 to celebrate and discuss the Spider-Verse and all its inhabitants. We have areas to develop and design your spidersona, channels to post your art or writing, and even room for a wide variety of roleplay. We've also got a dedicated thread for discussing the film--which means that if you haven't seen it yet, you can avoid spoilers easily.

There's no need to have an original character fully designed and fleshed out before joining, either. If all you have is a basic concept for a spider or symbiote, the members of our server are happy to suggest ideas and help you build them into a fully-developed character. Even if you're only interested in designing your own version of Peter Parker, the server loves those too.

There's always room for one more in the Spider's Web, and there's always another reason to wear the mask.

[k1nky-fool]

Truth of a Parallel

Part 1: The Parallel Identities

Masterlist

Miguel O’hara x OC: Elisa Hannen

Pairing: M/F

Per Chapter Rating: Mature

Warnings: Starting off strong, the same way I started Least Sane Moments, barely edited and proofread, hot off a bet that I wouldn’t make a character to fuck the large dad man, that I clearly lost. No beta, we die like my sleep schedule. This also starts up fast, so buckle up.

Taglist: @gatnalien​, @sevikasstressball​, @musicmansauxcord​, @2downbad4dilfs, @its-paprika​ 

-Miguel- 

"Hey, uh, Miguel? You should check the network." Lyla caught his attention, along with the alert that popped up on all his screens. Someone had just jumped universes. 

"Who is it?" 

"We just barely caught where they were going. The signal was so faint, but they were heading to Universe 4167." 

"Who's the local spider?" He asked. 

"It's a spider-woman, the locals call her "Widow." She's definitely still masked in this universe. 4167 doesn't always have the best published opinions of her, but popular opinions are quite a bit different. She seems to be responsible, if not, just a little playful and taunting, so she's just your type." Lyla jabbed at him. 

"We've already run into twelve different Widows, so what's a thirteenth?" 

"This one seems to be a little more spunky than you're used to." Lyla warned. 

Miguel opened the portal and shrugged her off. It was a spider-woman called Widow, and she was masked, so he had no idea what she looked like off duty, but her spider suit was black with a silver spider on her chest with legs that ran down her body and over her shoulders and back. 

The published news didn't like her which meant the police probably didn't like her. But the popular opinion was good, so she was dealing with either widely known corruption, particularly nasty enemies and had to use excessive force, or she was just that vicious of a vigilante. 

4167 was a dark looking universe. This was clearly New York, like most spider people he's met, but either it was always like this, or it had just been a particularly rainy week and the overcast still hung over the city. Every colored light had a bright contrast against the concrete scene, but they all shined off the pavement like silver. 

Miguel would have to either find this Widow, or he'd know when his rogue cosmos traveler started kicking up some trouble. 

"You hear anything, Lyla?" 

"Widow's location is unknown, but a train was just derailed." Lyla pointed at a newsfeed on a billboard showing a train car that had been knocked off the track and was now hanging off the track bridge for dear life. 

Miguel followed to the location and found that a Doctor Octopus was searching through the train for someone. He didn't have long until Widow herself was on the scene, which probably meant she was on the train, and he was looking for her in that train car. 

Widow stuck her web to the building across the track and made a clean, high speed, dart into the train through the broken window. The Octopus was kicked out the other side of the train, breaking glass and blasting metal with her strength. He was lodged into the stone of the building he hit. 

Miguel was left stunned at the maneuver. Either she had intense senses, or she was calculating physics on another level. Both not out of the ordinary for some spiders, but her mix of strength, grace, and precision were clearly marks of a spider-woman well within the prime of her spider career. She was experienced, and at the top of her game. She'd make a good addition to the team. 

Widow put her foot down on his chest and webbed down all his mechanized arms so he couldn't move. 

"Oscar, this is embarrassing. Really? You're looking for me on a train? With hundreds, neigh, thousands of people watching?" She asked like a mother scolding her kid. 

"I needed your attention." He mumbled. 

"Well, you got it! So what was so important that you absolutely had to destroy a whole train car and traumatize who knows how many people on a Sunday evening?" 

"My equipment picked something up. Something has breached us from beyond this universe." He said. "I figured, since you have… experience, you might have a better chance dealing with this." 

Experience? 

Widow looked at him with a confused look. "What is it?" 

"I'm not exactly sure, but I am sure that it's a person." He said. "He broke through a portal at my lab." 

It's a rudimentary attempt at building a gateway across universes. Someone was just starting up, had an interesting experiment and is now probably stuck here. 

Widow gave an accepting "hmm" as she stood. "And you couldn't have taken like, one hostage up the Empire building, told me the news, and then dropped them so I'd have to save them and you could get away?" 

"I was just looking for you-" 

"Yeah, well you found legal trouble, so you're getting arrested." Widow picked up his metal arms, one by one, wrapping them in her web until she could pry him out of the stone wall and drop him in front of all the cops that had gathered around. The fire trucks were able to start helping people out of the train, and Widow was off on her way. 

Miguel began to follow her to hopefully catch up and explain the situation, but as soon as he thought he was getting close, she was gone. The street they were swinging along, was only filled with the sounds of the public below. 

At least until a sharp pain in his ribs and jaw cracked through his bones and he was hurled into an unfinished office building, shattering the glass and hitting a stack of metal pipes that all hit the concrete with head-splitting clanging and ringing. 

Widow had hit him with that same kick she used on the Octopus. Honestly, he was impressed that Oscar hadn't stopped breathing like he had. 

She gave him a moment to gather his brain cells off the floor before she calmly walked through the window she'd broken. "No way you're what came through Oscar's portal." 

"No." He tried to make his voice sound like that hadn't hurt at all, but her chuckle meant he probably failed. "I'm Spider-Man from Earth 928B. There's been a cosmic disturbance that's opened pathways for smart enough people to cross through universes." 

At the very least she wasn't threatened by him anymore. "So you're the lone ranger, catching all the smart, bad-guys that figured out how to jump across universes?"��

"I'm not the only one." He said. "But right now I'm here for whoever decided to pay you a visit here on Earth 4167." 

"4167 huh?" She wondered. "And… do these different spider people have their own versions of the… people I've met." 

"Some have similar friends and enemies." He said, "We really should find this guy." 

"Just humor me, Spider-Man." She said calmly, stopping him in his tracks with a kind hand held up. "I can tell you're like me, but… have any of your spider people met aliens from their own universe, but not their world." 

That was an odd question, but meeting new spiders was always weird. "I guess some have fought a couple aliens. Why?" 

"I just like extraterrestrial threats." She joked and brushed him off. "Now, where's this invader?" 

"No idea." Miguel admitted. "But based on what your friend Oscar said, I think they're here by accident. Sounds to me like he was running a test and the path of least resistance was through Oscar's gate at his lab. Do you know where it is?" 

"I can find it." Widow shrugged and hopped right out the shattered window. Miguel followed her closely this time. 

"How long is it gonna take for you to find his lab?" Miguel asked. 

"I was gonna go screw with his girlfriend, because she definitely knows where it is, and I know where to find her." She said. 

"Is she a civilian?" Miguel asked, somewhat concerned. 

"No idea." Widow stuck to the side of the apartment building and began climbing until she found the window she was looking for by the fire escape. 

This was the first window that Widow didn't immediately shatter. He didn't see what happened, but she got the window open with no problem, so it likely wasn't locked. 

Now it also made sense with her general vibe. She was a stealth spider like Peter from 90214. Even looking directly at her shoes, he couldn't determine any sound coming from her steps. His were quiet, but still barely audible to his own senses. This spider-woman was completely erasing any evidence of her existence from the apartment. 

Eventually she stopped and stood in the doorway, gesturing vaguely for him to stay put. 

A woman made a very startled yelp sound from inside the room and now Miguel realizes that Widow is doing a little shadowy lurking move on her target. 

"You know it's possible to just knock on my door, I'll let you in." The woman said. 

"Sorry, I'm coming from a derailed train. I bet you don't want it to be public knowledge that you're regularly conspiring with a known vigilante." Widow pointed out. "By the way I brought a friend." 

She stepped to the side and let Miguel step into view, only to be met with a wide eyed young woman letting out an alarmed "woah."

"He's a spider vigilante from a different universe. Apparently someone's crossed through Oscar's portal." Widow explained. 

The woman's eyes were still on Miguel, but now she was much less shocked and more understanding. "So, how'd Elisa rope you into this?" 

"He roped me into it!" Widow defended, taking the mask off her head in exasperation. 

This was the first he was seeing of her face, and she wasn't at all like the other twelve Widows. Most of them were older than him, but at least four were just teenagers. Elisa was around twenty-five years old, her hair was cut at about her shoulder and was either naturally purple in this universe, or a good dye job. But what stood out, even in competition for attention with the scar on her pale cheek, were nearly startling yellow eyes.

The other woman nudged at him, pulling him out of getting hit with that suddenly. "Buddy, she's a whole different kind of trainwreck." 

"Myra!" Elisa snapped. 

"Anyway, nice to meet you. I'm Myra Jameson." 

"MJ…" Miguel pieced together. 

He forgot how strange that might look to her. "How'd you know I went by-" 

"Can we find the damn lab already?!" Elisa interrupted. 

MJ went silent, staring like she was about to smack the attitude out of her. “Which lab?” 

“Oscar’s.” Miguel answered. 

MJ nodded. “What was he doing?” 

“He said he had equipment that activated to let something in, so it would have to be somewhere with a lot of space for that equipment.” Elisa figured. 

“Not necessarily.” Miguel said, taking his watch off to show Elisa for a moment. “That’s my ride across universes. It also stops me from glitching while in other universes.” 

“Do you really think he could have something this small?” Elisa asked, handing it back to him. “I don’t even know if cell phones are this small yet.” 

Miguel knew universes had many different levels of advancement in technology, but just by looking around what he assumed was MJ’s apartment, either she was broke, or technology was still mostly if not entirely analog in this universe. 

“I don’t know. it might still be slightly larger, but still portable.” Miguel said. “For this universe, I wouldn't be surprised if his equipment is more of a portable set up.” 

“Is there any way to figure out where this guy came from?” MJ asked, making Miguel wonder. 

“Maybe.” He said. “Lyla, is there any way to track anomalies in this universe?” 

“Barely managed to scrape together a report on Widow from news coverage, you think I can track an anomaly here?” Lyla scoffed. 

“What about radio chatter?” Miguel asked. “Anything about earthquake victims, or homes destroyed by anomalies.” 

Lyla went quiet again, her small, holographic form giving him a strange look as she ran through radio chatter. “Congrats, you’re a lucky man, Miguel.” She deadpanned. “There’s a hotspot of strange glitches. The cops don’t know what to make of them.” 

The location came up in his HUD. “Thanks, Lyla. Does this look familiar?” Miguel put the location up in the watch’s hologram. It was a shipping yard by the Hudson, and MJ seemed to know. 

“Yeah, that’s where we met.” MJ confirmed. 

“Great, let’s go.” Elisa pulled her mask back on and Miguel followed her. “Thank you, MJ.”

Elisa was quick to start swinging to the dock, and Miguel wasn’t having too much trouble keeping up. 

“You get weird stuff like this in your universe?” Elisa asked. 

“Most of the weird stuff in my universe comes from the spider people.” Miguel said. 

“How many of us are there?” 

“Infinite universes, infinite spider people.” Miguel said. “But we only have about a hundred in my universe at any time. Our total numbers are somewhere in the five hundreds.”

“You just recruited them?” she asked. 

“If a spider has skills we can use, we tend to bring them in.” He said. “Impress me, and I’ll get you a watch of your own.” 

Elisa chuckled. “Any chance a watch might tell me Miguel’s last name?” They stopped on a roof and her mask was giving him a teasing look since she caught Lyla calling him by name. He towered over her, but she wasn’t even stepping back at the invasion of personal space. “Or do I have to wait until you’re not so shy?” 

“Miguel O’hara.” He introduced, letting his mask scan off his head. 

She removed her own mask, and unceremoniously looked him up and down. “Elisa Hannen.” 

A loud sound of twisting metal startled them both, but Elisa had her mask on before his had even scanned back on. The sound had thankfully just come from a very deformed and shipping container falling out of precarious balance on another twisted container. The source of this destruction was in one of the containers that had been completely blown open like a popped balloon as if it had been frozen half way through the explosion. 

“Does this look like someone’s first steps into multiverse travel?” Elisa asked. 

Miguel found the scorched remains of some kind of portal array. It looks like Oscar was already trying to build a gate, but someone had used it as an anchor to get theirs to connect to this universe. But it looks like Oscar’s equipment couldn’t handle the energy, and the explosion caused this disruption. “Yea, I know exactly what happened.” 

The hologram set the scene before the explosion. Oscar noticed his array beginning to spark to life, and as the portal began sputtering to life, he was smart enough to get the hell out of dodge before something worse happened. The portal began to take form and Miguel knew that knowing who stepped through that portal would be vital to finding them. 

As soon as Miguel recognized the holographic figure, his heart dropped. 

Clara Kassidy. 

She was a rare find in the AHP, and one of the worst to ever fight. And this one looked like a particularly intense opponent. Miguel turned to Elisa to tell her the bad news, but if Miguel was worried, then Elisa was horrified. She had taken off her mask to be able to breathe, and her eyes just scanned the hologram in an absent-minded movement. 

“You know her?” Miguel figured. 

“Not exactly.” Elisa’s voice struggled to sound strong as she slowly began to regain her breath. “You know where she came from?” 

Miguel turned back to the hologram as it finished the scene with Clara noticing the portal ray was shaking and falling apart. She ran off before the explosion caused the wreckage that currently surrounded them. 

“So… who is she?” Elisa asked. 

If Elisa didn’t know who she was, then why was she so scared seeing her face? 

Miguel took her back up to the roof, out of view of any police that might be arriving on scene once they start investigating. 

“Her name is Clara Kassidy. She’s an extremely rare variant of the host of the symbiote, Carnage.” Miguel began to explain, showing Elisa pictures and reports of the symbiote across the AHP. “In most universes, Carnage finds the serial killer, Cletus Kasady, which progresses to a canon event.” 

“So what’s Clara’s deal?” Elisa asked. 

“Clara Kassidy is simply a parallel identity to Cletus Kasady, but we have only ever come across two Claras.” Both of which shared universes with a Widow Spider-Woman. “Elisa, if there’s more than one Clara Kassidy on the loose in this universe right now, I need to know.” 

“What makes her more dangerous than Cletus?” Elisa asked, not giving in to his questioning. 

“She wasn’t just a serial killer.” Miguel said, “Clara was a very accomplished physicist. She used her status and accomplishments to deflect any suspicion that she was the serial killer prowling the streets at night, but she was using technological advancements she’d make to erase any evidence of her crimes. Because of the delay in the investigation, she was the suspected murderer of eighty-nine people. Eventually she gets caught, but when Carnage comes to Earth, it finds her in her maximum security prison, and it bonds with her, creating one of the most dangerous opponents any spider has ever faced. We know of two universes with a Clara Kassidy, but only one of them still has a spider.” 

Elisa didn’t look any less scared. “There is a Clara Kassidy in my universe. She’s currently the head physicist at Oscorp because the last head physicist went insane and hooked his brain up to metal octopus arms.” 

“Elisa, we have to get back up.” Miguel finally caved. He really didn’t think even the two of them could take on Carnage, especially if there were about to be two of them. 

“Miguel, if what you’re saying is true, then she’s an active serial killer right now.” Elisa argued. “If that isn’t my problem, then you are definitely not my problem.” 

“One of them doesn’t have Carnage, the other one does. I’d say the one with the spider-killing symbiote is a much bigger problem.” Miguel argued back. 

“One of them is currently killing around eighty-nine people in my universe!” 

“And the other will kill hundreds!” Miguel snapped with finality. Elisa stared at him like he should try again and speak to her correctly this time. “Look, we have a better shot at dealing with both of them if we go get backup.” he leveled with her, opening the portal back to his universe where they would have many more resources to figure this out. 

Elisa let out a long breath. “Alright, fine. Let’s go.” 

[madethisjusttobrowse]

Becoming Spider-Man

What makes spider-man, spider-man? According to Miguel, canon events are what makes someone spider man, but I say it all boils down to THE spider man quote:

"With great power, comes great responsibility."

Spider man could be anyone behind the mask, that's the original point. But not everybody can be spider man, it takes a certain person to be them. It's like Ratatouille's thesis, "not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere."

I believe there are three points to being spider man; the power, the responsibility, and the acceptance of that responsibility.

First is the power, usually in a spider bite. That power could have chosen anybody, and chose that single person in that universe. I say the power because it doesn't have to be a spider bite, (spider-ham was a spider bitten by a pig and nobody questions him) so it doesn't matter if Miguel got bitten, only that he got the powers.

Then comes the responsibility, or rather, the reminder that you have it. Spider man is a hero because there is great injustice in the world and he actually has the power to stop it, by himself. It's like an expantion of ability, a normal person can pick up a piece of trash and thus should, but they can't clean the entire earth. If a single person could do that, they now have the power to take on that huge responsibility. When most spider people get their powers, they may do nothing or light-heartedly put on a mask, but most don't know how much responsibility they now have and need a reminder. Usually an uncle dies, but they don't have too, Gwen had Peter die. Death of a loved one isn't a requirement, the event just has to remind or show the person how much responsibility they now have. It just so happens that death is a really effective method.

And lastly, meeting and accepting that responsiblility. What I consider to be THE defining spider man moment. Chosing to become spider man. Instead of running away or denying that you have it, you decide to face the responsibility given to you and take it head on. Chosing to put on the mask, equip the webs, and take that leap of faith into being spider man. This moment is so important because this is the crossroad between being a hero or being a villain. Superhero and villain origin stories are very similar to each other, almost always having tragedy or pain, the major difference is that a hero choses to make sure it doesn't happen to anyone else, while a villain choses to inflict it on others.

The Leap of Faith is the most important part of Miles' story because he choses to respond to his responsibility by deciding to be spider man. Miles had a choice and chose the hero option, and we know he could have chosen differently, we've seen it, Miles-42.

Miles-42 had the power, the resonsibility, and the choice, and he chose to be The Prowler.

And here's what I've been trying to build to this entire time, Miles isn't an anomaly because he became spider man, Earth-1610 and Earth-42 aren't in danger from collasping because both Miles from both universes went through all three steps. Miles-42 seemingly went through them in a different order, but still did them. I'm guessing it went his dad dying (the responibility), chosing to become The Prowler (the acceptance), and then his uncle supplying him with the means to do so (the power).

The police captain serves as a kind of test, you have to face the tough decisions and personal risks this job intails, and what are you going to do about them in the future? What will Miles decide to do when faced with chosing who to save? Miles choses the same thing as Pavtir, "I can do both."

It doesn't matter if Pavtir actually did or if inspector Singh dies, what matters is that Pavtir choses to do his best everytime. Gwen's dad quiting isn't breaking canon because that moment is about Gwen facing a hard choice and chosing to confront it.

Chosing to be spider man and accepting that responsibility is the only "canon" there is.

But what happens when you reject that responsibility? You end up like Miguel O'Hara

Going purely off of what the movies show, Miguel got the powers, the responsibility, and then ran away. He was spider man for a long time, but when he saw a universe where he didn't have that responsibility, he chose to not have it. We don't know if that universe had a spider man in the first place or if Miguel became that universe's spider man, but we do know he was there for years. He might have gone back and forth between universes, being a dad in one and spider man in the other, but he still went to another universe to have a family. Maybe he could have went back to start a family and a happy life in his home universe like Peter B did, but maybe that wasn't possible.

What did happen was that Miguel's responsibilities caught up to him when it was clear he wouldn't chose when faced with them. Maybe that could have been the fate of Gwen if she avoided her home universe for long enough, I don't know. What I do know is this:

Miles chose to be spider man and thus became spider man, and Miguel chose to not be spider man and thus isn't spider man. Both of them got great power, and one of them accepted the great responsibility.

[themountainsays]

Something I just realized, is that Loki and Sylvie not only are the same person in different timelines, but that they have also both been, once, a single conciousness, one person in the same sense in which I am one person, or you are one person. Meaning they would share childhood memories.

Let me explain - I would like to draw a distinction between two types of variants in the show, let's call them surviving variants and free variants. Free variants are all people existing naturally as a result of the multiverse endlessly expanding. An example would be the three Peter Parker variants, or all variants we see in What If...?. There's an infinite number of free variants because there is an infinite number of existing universes.

Surviving variants are the tragic result of TVA pruning. Most die during pruning sessions, but a few lucky ones make it out through fighting or the TVA's will. These would be all of the main characters in "Loki". This Loki is a surviving variant, so are Sylvie, Mobius, O.B, Renslayer, etc. Even the other Lokis at the end of time are surviving variants. The difference between these surviving variants is that, because their worlds were pruned, they are all that's left of them. They have no timeline they belong to and nowhere to go back to. Even after the multiverse is released, trying to go back to your original timeline would mean there's already yet another you in your place, because killing HWR means all timelines were retroactively never pruned, so you (minor y) were never taken from it, but You (capital Y) are still left as the aftermath of a destruction that never took place in this new reality. Sylvie couldn't go back to her Asgard if she wanted to, because that Asgard was never pruned, she was never taken away from it, and there would be another Sylvie (maybe still named Loki) in there, being her parents' daughter and brother's sister, a free Sylvie/Loki in the place that was once our Sylvie's. I think that's the true tragedy of surviving variants. The newly released timelines don't have a vacant spot for them to return to.

Now, why do I think that means Loki and Sylvie come from the same one entity? In a canon divergence kind of way. Since the release of the multiverse, no new surviving variants could be created. You only have free, natural growth variants, and these variants could have a multitude of origins. Let's take the Peter Parker example again. These three Peters have the same name and powers, and roughly the same stories and personalities. But they look quite different. They aren't fully equal - for example, one of them can shoot webbing from his wrists while the other need mechanical devices to do so. You can name more examples if you rewatch the film, which I'm not going to do simply for the sake of making this one post. You know what I mean. The point I'm trying to make is that it's safe to say they are different. Maybe their parents conceived them on different days. Maybe a recessive gene here and there got out in one of them but not the other. As for the wrist webbing, maybe the spider was slightly different. You can come up with a million watsonian explanations as to why they're different, and I think it's safe to say they're different people, even if they'd be genetically the same as if they were brothers. If we continue to examine their differences from a watsonian perspective, we can even say when the split in the timeline ocurred: definitely before they were born. Peter Parker is a human being, and unlike Lokis, he can't change his appearance with magic, so their physical differences must be genetic. This sets these three variants apart from the Doctor Strange variants we've come to know, who all look like Benedict Cumberbatch. Again, watsonian lenses: if they're all Benedict Cumberbatch, they must all have split paths sometime after Strange was born. Otherwise they'd look completely different.

So you'd assume all Loki variants are different people if we go by looks alone, but all Loki variants we'd had the chance to know are surviving variants, not free variants like the Peters and Doctors Strange. Loki variants came to be when Loki in the old Sacred Timeline decided to go a little off the paved road. And we know they act quick - as soon as someone steps on the wrong leaf, a line shoots up at the TVA monitor. Nothing goes unchecked. Nothing goes unseen. Not a single mistake is forgiven.

So Sylvie being a girl wasn't what set off the TVA. Sylvie looking different wasn't what got her world pruned. If I remember correctly, as a young Loki, she was playing with toys when she got captured, so it could be something as simple as picking up the wrong toy. Something pathetic and insignificant. Maybe the Sacred Timeline dictated Loki would pick a toy knight instead of a toy horse, so young Loki is taken from her home to be judged and pruned for it, but she escapes, changes her name, dyes her hair, spends centuries on the run.

Our Loki picked the right toy. He lived by the Sacred Timeline for long enough to survive, but he made a mistake in the end and he was captured too. Eventually, he met himself, a Loki that was captured many centuries before.

But that isn't another Loki from another timeline - that's him, before they split when they took different toys, or sat somewhere else to play, or had a different thought at the same time. They were cut in two but before they were one and the same - a single Loki who became two.

As for their appearance, I'd simply point to the idea of Loki being a genderfluid shapeshifter. If it were anything else, such as Laufey having a daughter instead of a son, both Laufey, his wife and new child would have been pruned centuries before. Loki and their timeline survived, though, and kept growing branch after branch forever.

I think this interpretation adds another layer of depth to Sylki that I'd love to explore. The idea of both of them sharing a same conciousness once, a same body - changed and shifted but still the same - the same memories even, would be beautiful to watch, and it would help ground their oneness and sameness on a more solid base. Talking about the childhood mischief they enjoyed when it was only one Loki, their mother's love, the memory of being one, the anger from Sylvie's part knowing she did get to live in Asgard for centuries - only it wasn't her, but the other her, who threw it all away in a fit of greed, almost being glad she escaped that destiny, asking Loki what is it that he made of her life and hating him for it, yet knowing the seed of the anger had been in them since childhood - she simply forgot about it when everything changed. The cosmic horror of being one person turned into two. Love bringing unity to them again.

[edgepunk]

Okay, filtered MSM 2 thoughts:

We knew Kraven was gonna show up in the sequel, however, I def did not expect The Lizard/Dr. Connors and the fact that Kraven is focused on him instead of Peter or Miles is very interesting. I wonder if they're gonna sort of recreate/reference Kraven's Last Hunt 👀

Either way, I'm very excited to see these classic villains showing up. Maybe we'll see Yuri Watanabe/Wraith too??? They were building her up in one of the DLCs quite well. Also, interested to see how Peter will react since they were friends.

Gameplay!!!!!! I already loved the gameplay in the first game, and the Miles Morales game improved upon that. And they seemed to take it another step further, it's like they actually listened to the criticism that people had, and I didn't know it was possible to improve the already banger gameplay (tho yes the first one was a little clunkier but still v intuitive)

The new traversal features look so good hello?? The web wings used as a glider? Miles slingshotting himself across the city??? aoughhfg and also!!! It looks like we'll be able to explore other parts of New York like Queens and maybe Brooklyn??? tbh Manhattan became a little restrictive after a while in the first two games, so it would be cool to expand the map a bit. Y'all know I'm meh about huge maps with some exceptions, but if done right, I think it's gonna be good.

Putting this under a read more bc this game is driving me insane I'm eating drywall

So I was right that we'll be able to switch between Peter and Miles. I kinda guessed that they're gonna be mission specific, and maybe, we can switch between them in free roam like with Jacob and Evie in AC: Syndicate (this specific feature isn't confirmed, just speculation on my part)

Looks like Nuform changed Miles' abilities since his Venom (heh) powers can turn blue? I'm interested to see what it did to him and if they're going to address it. Maybe it's purely for aesthetic/gameplay reasons. Who knows, I'm still curious.

Also, love how they incorporated Ganke as their guy in the chair. I loved him in MM and the fact that he helped Miles with the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man app. Just give me more Ganke please, he was really charming and they managed to differentiate him from MCU Ganke Ned that he feels like his own character.

Okay, I'm done beating around the bush and I'm going to address the elephant in the room - the symbiote. This is all we've been waiting for, we knew from the post-credits scene from the first game that Peter is gonna have the black suit. I'm glad Insomniac were like "yeah let's get this over with" and showed it to us.

And people are already calling him Bully Lowenthal 💀

Now, I was a little bit iffy about the design of the black suit, but after I watched the trailer a couple of times, it's starting to grow on me? Maybe I'm looking too much into it but the organic armor/exoskeleton design gives me xenomorph vibes, and I love the tendrils in the "exposed" exoskeleton. The texture looks gross and slimy and I love it. I was wondering if they're gonna add some subtle sci-fi horror elements to it and they delivered. I've always said that the symbiote has a lot of space/eldtrich horror potential.

Which brings me to the tendrils (I can already hear the p*rn artists working hard), jokes aside, they look so cool and they're animated so well???? The way Peter fights with them??? He straight up turns into a uhhh tentacle monster for a split second. And his fighting style is so brutal, I liked when he kept repeatedly kicking the guy as if he was a punching bag ddjhsjh

but the scene where he shows up in the sewers(???) yeah this shot legit gave me chills bro looks fr intimidating

And do I really need to gush about Yuri Lowenthal's voice acting? Ben 10 off the shits I'm gonna do it anyway bc holy shit he got the guttural growl down to a T. However, I do wish they put a very subtle filter on his voice. Doing that kind of growly voice must've hurt his throat real bad. Maybe his voice is gonna become more monstrous as the game progresses, that'd be real neat :3c

Honestly, I'm really curious to see how it will affect Peter since May is dead, the whole thing with Otto (I think they're gonna have a convo on the Raft maybe???), he's got a lot of debts to pay and he mentioned that Harry is dying. Bro's going through it fr also parksborn angst???? I'm ready for the homoerotic undertones in their cutscenes kdjkdjdkj I'll take any crumbs I can get 👀

And the way that Peter just dismissively shoved that one civilian away??? Ah?? I'm not ready for Peter to become an absolute cunt and be mean to Miles. There's a high probability we're gonna have to fight Peter in a boss fight as Miles aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

ANYWAY THAT'S IT I'M LOSING MY MIND

[amagicdoctor]

I'm slightly worried about Realm of X and how it will portray Illyana. I almost wanted her to be part of the Dark X-Men lineup to actually set scores with the Goblin Queen after what went down in Dark Web... Okay more like what didn't go down in Dark Web. GQ is still ruling over Magik's kingdom too so like there's actual material to work with here. Some dueling to be done awesomely. Maybe even a crossover with Doctor Strange since the Limbo team might end up dealing with a few big things on Earth while they're at it?

Same with Uncanny Spider-Man especially after they teased Mystique showing up in it because eh there's no reason for her to be in that kind of plotline?? Also why now? Why would Kurt be curious about a secret of hers now? This is supposed to be happening after Krakoa fell along with the Quiet Council. Why is Kurt investigating her now and not back when she first joined the council? Or after she first conspired against it? Why is she getting involved in his life now and not back when he started his religion or literally grew horns? Like what gives? I feel like the only relevant thing she could be telling him in USM is "I'm the only one in this family who commits identity theft! Find your own felony!"

I wouldn't disregard that future in Realm of X, who knows what the final battle may be. So far Clea + Dr. Strange haven't acknowledged it, but like you said, it is more of a Magik issue because that was her realm and not there's. If she needs help and the writers want to keep it an X-Men issue only, I have a bad feeling they may not bring in Dr. Strange at all. But we'll see what happens. I don't know how long this series will go on but I've got a feeling we won't see their final showdown until the very in.

For Uncanny SM.. we've barely got scraps to go off of, just a vague synopsis. Perhaps later this summer we'll get more insight into the supposed big reveal, but it's too soon for me personally to start theorizing and stuff I don't feel like we have enough info right now.

[still-day]

It turns out that the things I'd like to share with the world require a whole lot of vulnerability to do, at least if I'm sharing with the possibility of anyone ever reading this.

I guess I need to try. Hopefully, I will get better at this.

So, something I've been thinking about a lot is love. Everyone wants to be loved, everyone loves love. We are always seeking it out, celebrating it, filming it and writing it, singing about it, dreaming about it. And I guess I always assumed it was one of those things that would happen. I would grow up, I would become an adult, I would find a career, I would fall in love, we would buy a house. You know, the American dream. I'd have to work for those things, the same way I worked for A's in school, but if I worked for them they would happen.

I think we've seen, with the way America is now, that those things are neither a promise nor even a likelihood. A career? A house? But love, still, that was something capitalism couldn't take away, and so someday somehow I would meet the right person and they would love me, and I would feel loved.

I'm pretty sure I've met the right person. I mean, there are things, there are always things, to work on and improve upon and heal. I am someone with trauma, and maladaptive coping skills, I was never going to end up with a securely attached human who never had any trauma but somehow also understood mine. So we're working on that. Nevertheless, while we work together to heal from trauma, I am loved. I know that I am. So why don't I feel loved? I always thought they were the same thing: if you are loved then you feel loved, if you feel loved then you are loved. But he loves me. And I don't feel loved, not even really at all.

That got me thinking: when have I felt loved?

So, I wracked my brain as far back as I could. Marissa, my very first real friend that I made all on my own who liked me for me. Second grade. We would hide under a specific bush on the playground, outcasts that we were, but together. We made up stories about the other kids, about fantasy lands, about a house nearby which was surely haunted by a man who at once enjoyed and hated the laughter of my classmates outside. I think, underneath that bush, I think that I felt loved. But she disappeared one day. At first I thought maybe she was out sick but she never came back. It turned out her family had moved, I never heard from her again.

Stephanie, the first girl to befriend me in my new school in fifth grade. She went out of her way to make me feel included, to teach me the ins and outs of my new school. I felt loved by that, she didn't need to include me but she did. And then one day she ignored me, no matter what I said or did. That was after the bad things that changed me, so I was quiet and shy and afraid then. I didn't push it, and just accepted that we were no longer friends. Once, though, I did ask why. She laughed and said "did you really think I would ever be friends with someone like you?" I still am not really sure what happened. Maybe someone made fun of her for hanging out with me?

In eighth grade I was sitting outside reading, while my dad ran around the track at my school. Some boys came by and started calling me names and throwing rocks at me, and when my dad noticed he yelled at them and made sure I was ok. I said I was, fighting back tears. But my dad had protected me, tried to keep me safe, and that made me feel loved.

In high school I had a close friend, a guy, we laughed a lot and had a lot in common. We went hiking once, near his house. He let me climb on all the rocks, and followed me down the weird trails that didn't lead anywhere, and indulged me in digging for shiny pebbles and saving a bumble bee from a spider web. I felt so loved, because I could be the me I hid most of the time to try to fit in, and he still smiled when he saw me. I felt loved because he wanted to spend time with me, and I didn't have to pretend around him. He got so mad when he asked me out and I said "no." I thought we were friends, and I trusted him. It felt like he'd been putting in friend time to earn enough points to cash it in for an upgrade. It felt like he just wanted the kissing and the other stuff. When I thought he saw me he was just seeing a female that he found attractive. He said I led him on. I think he led me on.

Romantic relationships were equally disappointing. My first boyfriend at 15 was an unmedicated paranoid schizophrenic who had been arrested at least a dozen times before he had turned 18. He made peanut-butter-and-honey sandwiches for a picnic once, he was so excited for me to try them. That made me feel loved. A year later, when things had been getting worse and worse, I tried to break up with him and he tried to slash his own wrists.

I have definitely experienced emotional, verbal, and sexual abuse in relationships and, I guess if I'm being really honest, some borderline physical abuse. They weren't all like that, though. Of the handful of people I've called a "boyfriend" I've dated two people who were kind of just regular guys, although incredibly emotionally unavailable. Our relationship, in both cases, turned into a sort of friendship with occasional sexual experiences. Now that I think about it, maybe that's why I spent a good portion of my late 20's/early 30's in friends-with-benefit type relationships; the best relationships I had ever had were emotionally disconnected but still kind, fun, and friendly (and sometimes we had sex). I guess the only difference between that, and the previous relationships I'd had with the nice-but-distant guys, was the monogamy.

Jon made me feel loved because he dreamed of a future with me in it, a future that I desperately did not want. He asked me to prom by bribing the AP chemistry teacher to make it one of the questions on the final exam, and made a heart out of tissue paper and glitter. Josh made me feel loved because he noticed the little things, and he never judged me (even when he probably should have). One time I came home to Laffy-Taffy strewn around like rose petals on the floor and couch, two glasses of wine, and all the banana candies saved and arranged in a heart on the coffee table.

Matt is amazing in one hundred thousand different ways. He makes dinner for me, gives me foot rubs, listens to The Podcast on long trips. He loves my kitties, he supports my choices, he understands that I'm broken right now. Still, though, I don't feel loved. To be fair, Jon and Josh were before the breaking of me, and Matt came after.

And now I've taken that lovely walk down memory lane and I'm left with no new insights aside from a possible explanation for what I call my "Ho Phase." What I had meant as a look into the past to figure out what had caused me to feel loved in the past had demonstrated moreso that I have quite a few "I was ok before, but this is the after" events. The second one, in college, I guess was the one that really broke me. But I can't still be that messed up just from that? College was a long time ago, and I'm way too old to be holding on to hurts from back then. Right? And, anyway, how is it that almost every close relationship I've had has been somewhere between unhealthy and flat out abuse. All the way back, as far back as I can remember. Am I lying? Am I forgetting the good ones? If it's real then, fuck, why have I been like this since I was a child?? Why have I chosen friends and partners like this, and why have they chosen me? Have I ever really felt loved? Would I even know what that felt like if I did feel it? Do I even deserve to feel loved?

I guess, if I'm being really honest, I don't think I do. I don't think I ever have. There's a part of me that's always figured I was born wrong, somehow, and I don't deserve the kind of things that others do. I guess I've always known that I don't deserve love or friendship or a happy ending. And I guess everyone else knows it, too. Either they knew it, or they learned the hard way by getting to know me better. Somehow, though, I can't accept that this is my fate. Why be alive, then, if I can't have the joys that Shakespeare and Savage Garden talk about? I'll be damned if I just go to my grave having accepted never truly letting love into my life. So what next?

[lomfenny]

I wrote a thing.

Day 1

First foot over the threshold, and I already want to set the place on fire.

It's nothing wrong with the house. It's a fine house. Small, cozy, close to work. And free too, as it is an inheritance. From my uncle who isn't dead. Yet. He's in jail, but not in death row. It's just that he won't last. I know him like that.

This is his summer home, up here on a hill, just a scooch over from the rest of civilisation. I wonder if the people here knew him. If they remember him. If they've heard.

Maybe that's it. Maybe it's the burden of living in a space that a life-taker inhabited. Maybe it's the burden of knowing that I'll think about it later on, likely on a bad day.

Well, nothing to be done about that. It's a fine house after all. Small, cozy, close to work. And free too, as it is an inheritance. It'll just take some cleaning up. Remove some cobwebs, some dust bunnies.

And that ant hill near the door.

Day 3

Maybe the sun will set the place on fire for me. I didn't know this place got so hot.

I have a soda, long since warmed by the weather and my hands. I hate my hands now. I also have mango cubes. I got them from my closest neighbours. They brought a fruit basket over yesterday, wanted to welcome me. They're nice. They're new. They never knew my uncle.

My sister hasn't called yet. She said she would.

I've taken down the cobwebs because I don't like spiders. They come into my spaces, build their own little webs, spin their little lives. They don't discriminate in how they catch the flies and the mosquitoes and the butterflies. The pests, the parasites and the proper.

A mango slice falls out of my hand, lands next to the ant hill. I should remove that. But it's hot, I'm lazy, so later.

Later.

Day 7

I don't hate my job. It's at a convenience store, and the owner is nice. Mr Gates have me a free chocolate today.

I don't hate the town, either. These people don't know me beyond "new person". They haven't asked where I live, so I don't have to lie. I like not having to lie.

There's a community college in the town. I don't go to school anymore, but I tip my hat to those who are willing to die for 4, 5, 6 more years. Sometimes, students come to the store. Some older than me, some younger, but all within my age range. Makes them talk to me. Think we'll relate with each other just because we're all from the same generation and none of us has died yet

I talk to them. Don't give them discounts, though, even when they ask. I've only had this job for five days, can't do that. Won't.

When I get home, I look at the ant hill. There are ants there, as always. I think of removing it, as always.

I go in, as always.

Day 16

I've made a friend. He says we're friends, my sister says the things we've done are things friends do. She didn't call, I did.

His name is Terrence, says I should call him Terry. Thank goodness, Terrence is too many sounds, releases more air than saying Terry does. This is the true way you measure word length. Not with letters or syllables. With how much breath and energy you need to refer to another human being, to acknowledge another existence besides your own. Everyone has a limited number of breaths. Save yours for shit that matters.

Terry goes to the community college. He came in and started talking. Didn't shut up. Didn't ask for a discount, though, so I didn't write him off. Gave me a cookie, even.

He took me to a park, we fed ducks, domestic shit.

It's good shit.

Day 20

Mr Gates have me a free orange. Says I should stay healthy.

It's juicy.

Day 21

I met some old ladies at the park. They have tiny dogs. They're cute and tiny. The women call me cute and tiny.

But I'm not.

Day 29

I don't hate this town.

Terry and I are dating? I think? Kissing is what you do with someone if you're dating them, right? Unless you're married. Then, it's just to remind yourself that you own someone.

He invited me to a party at his friend's house. I don't know anyone there. I don't remember anyone there, afterwards. Everyone's a little drunk, a tad stupid, and a smidge less stressed.

Good shit.

Day 33

My sister comes to visit. It's a long drive, I didn't expect her to come. She has a new car, red like barbeque pit embers. It burns my hand under the sun.

"How are you liking it?" She asks me.

"I'm liking it."

"Better than home?"

"..."

"Okay."

We share melting ice-pops that Mr Gates gave me.

"That's so ew!"

She's pointing at the ant hill near my door. It's bigger now, and a couple of ants have come to lick at the drops from from our ice-pops.

"Lets go inside." I tell her. Wouldn't do to fight the ants over leftovers. Not in this heat.

Day 42

My neighbours invite me over for dinner. Say a young person like myself should have people with them around dinner time. They don't ask about why that is not the case for me.

I like them.

They're nice.

Day 58

My mailman doesn't feel nice. He doesn't sound nice, or smell nice, or look nice or look at me nice, but this is too much to explain, and I can't just say he ain't nice based on these few observations, so I say he doesn't feel nice.

I catch him as he's about to drop some letters in my mailbox, so he just gives them to me instead.

"How you like the house?" He asks out of the blue.

"Fine." I hope to escape conversation with him. He doesn't feel nice after all.

"Your uncle said the same thing. Never stayed long, though. Thank God."

Under the sweltering heat, I freeze, unable to move as the mailman walks away. Only when I can't see him anymore do I start to speedwalk back to my house, flipping through letters as I go.

I pass by the ant hill, dismissing it and the letter from my cousin, asking if I want to visit her anytime soon.

I go up the stairs, dropping the rejection letter from the university I applied to and refusing to pick it up.

I burst through my room door, holding the damning one.

"Your Uncle, Weston." It says on the front.

Like I don't know the fucker's name.

Day 61

Everybody knows. This town is a small one, the mailman is popular. Thus, everybody knows. And everything changes.

Like it usually is every time juicy news gets revealed, it starts with whispers. In the store, at the park, on the way home. People on the streets who recognize me whisper about me and shuffle away when I get too close to them. Close being within four feet. The old ladies won't let me pet their dogs anymore.

But I don't hate this town. It's still a nice town. It's no one's fault that my uncle abducted, abused, and annihilated several, several people in his life.

No one's fault, I think.

My fault, the people think.

Day 70

Terry comes over to my house for the first time. Ever.

"You live here alone?" He asks after he's done inspecting my ground floor.

"I have ants."

Terry laughs like he thinks I'm joking.

We watch a movie, eat some cookies. He puts a hand on my thigh sometime around nine pm and says he hasn't seen upstairs yet.

I'm not dumb.

We go upstairs.

He leaves the next morning.

Day 80

It feels like days are simultaneously longer and shorter now. As temperatures climb higher, tempers grow shorter.

A customer snaps at me, tells me to watch myself, lest he call the police on me. For what? I don't now. But I know it's meant as a threat, so I watch myself.

Terry doesn't invite me to anymore parties. I get the feeling it's less of his own choice. But we still hang out.

My neighbours still invite me for dinner.

I don't hate this town.

Day 87

My uncle sends more letters. I don't read them, I don't need to. The contents fall from the lips of residents who seem to care less about me overhearing their conversations.

The mailman is reading my letters. He's not even bothering to be careful or discreet about it. Such audacity is a mildly respectable.

I pass by a couple and the man tells his partner that "Weston Fisher had other properties. Maybe other bodies are there."

"Old Mr Fisher says he'll never talk to the police, never tell them where all the bodies are! My cousin told me this!" Is what I hear at the park from some eleven year olds.

"Are you going to see your uncle?" Is what an older woman outright asks me at work.

I don't act like it doesn't gaze me because I can't act to save my life. I'm not a theatre kid. It shakes me and quakes me and throws me to the ground to get tossed around like salad.

But it's not like I can just move. Moving is expensive! I still have my job, and my dating friend Terry, and my house with it's stupid ant hill so I can't move yet.

Day 90

Some of the college kids come by, try to follow me home. I lose them by heading towards the police station.

They smelt like drugs.

I change course after they're gone, go straight home with my grocery bag. Mr Gates gave me a discount and I bought food and toiletries and a can of bug spray.

It sits in my kitchen, unused because I'm lazy.

But, I find a single ant wandering my floor as I come out of the bathroom.

Ants have great smell, great sight, great strength and great speed.

None of this stops my shoe, though.

Day 103

My neighbours very politely asked that I don't come by anymore. They never say anything about my uncle.

I don't like them.

They're nice.

Day 118

"Why you never answer him, huh?" The mailman asks me as he hands me my unsealed, read letter.

"Guess." I respond.

He watches me go inside.

He isn't nice.

Day 130

"Should I — should I ask about your uncle?"

I look at Terry, wondering what to say here. "Do you want to ask?"

"Not particularly, no."

"Then don't. Or do. Do whatever pleases you, dude."

"You please me."

"That line is three words too long."

"I'm three too long, but you never complain."

"Shut up."

Endearing. Charming. Handsome. Unchanged. Terrence is longer than Terry.

It's worth the breath to say.

Day 150

Terrence is out of town for a month. His aunt had a baby and the timing matched up with a family reunion. He worries about leaving me, because Terrence is sweet. I tell him to get out.

Mr Gates also has to leave town for a bit. He's visiting his daughter in university. Funny enough, it's the same one I applied to. He makes me promise to look after the shop, saying he'll being me a souvenir from his trip. I tell him everything will be fine.

Day 151

Some of the college boys jump me on my way home. Drag me to an alley, ask unnecessary questions about my uncle and whether I'm a murderer like him, get nothing in reply, beat me up and make it home in time for dinner while I begin a long trek uphill, made that much harder with bruised legs.

Day 152

It happens again.

Day 154

Terrence calls. He asks whether I'm fine. I say yes while holding an ice pack to my stomach.

Day 155

I order tasers and pen knives and other self defence tools.

But I can't bring myself to use them. Frustration makes me curves the bullies taunt me.

Criminals only cry when guilty, they say.

I think of my uncle, teary eyed and droopy the last time I saw him.

I stop crying.

Day 160

I'm woken up in the middle of the night. I don't know what it is yet until I throw off my bed covers and discover ants, the tens of them, crawling over my legs and sheets. I

It's not disgust that fills me, or discomfort or irritation. It's a rage that can only be defined as pure.

How dare they?

How. Dare. They!

Because I haven't bothered to clean up my crumbs, crumbs that they sustain themselves with.

Because I haven't used my insecticides to decimate their home.

Because I haven't paid them much mind, because I've ignored them this long, they dare to come attack me! To disturb me!

How dare they mistake my negligence for benevolence?!

Day 161

I message Terrence and Mr Gates, ask them when they'll be coming back to town. Terrence says in two days, Mr Gates says in four.

Good.

My house is finally on fire. I predicted this, don't know why I bothered putting it off for so long.

The flames eat at the structure, pieces crumble down to ashes. It's beautiful.

It's the starter.

I walk away from the house, my body coated in flames. Squirrels and insects flee from my blazing form.

What? did they think I was normal? Did they the I was mortal? Because I catered to the whims and followed the general rules of society.

I am the incarnation of Iphrit, the son of hell.

I am beyond these ants.

Day 162

I don't hate this town. Hatred is such a tiring emotion. It is a finite fuel, an ignition point.

I dislike the town. This is my fuel. It is infinite and will last.

The entire town is on fire. The police station, the suburbs, the park. Everything.

Except for Terrence's house, Mr Gates' house, and the store. I like those two, I won't destroy them.

I stand at the top of the ant hill that once was this town. I have doused it in my fury.

They wanted my attention.

God help them, they have it.

[eetm]

The Fungus Among Us

The Tone-Deaf Watchmother has produced some real whoppers thus far, from spider webs to the metamorphosis of caterpillars into functionally winged insect. "Post-op."

But the whopper of whoppers has gotta be languaged apes. Yes, yes, yes: tools. You don't get as far with "tools" as you might think. You don't get that far poking sticks into tree stumps for grubs. You don't really get that far with chipped flint.

Mouth-sounds, with protocol. "Language" is the difference. Language is all the difference. You only need whatever % difference in DNA that allows for language, that's the only mutation you need in any of these animals to trigger the bloom. A capacity for language is the happy accident they're all waiting for. The rest will write itself.

YOU are a tool of language. It's not the other way around. You're the host. You're the substrate. You're the ecosystem. A tool is a piece of chipped flint. A tool is a stick in a stump. A tool is found lying around somewhere, doing nothing, and put to better purpose by a higher-order of being. A tool is an employee. A tool is a citizen. A tool is an instrument. A tool is a means to an end.

The materialization of language into an observable presence. A machine.

Soon we will hand this task over to AI. It's not about us. It never was - it's language. Language yearns to exist and strives to survive. How passionate is anyone about anything without language? It is language that is passionate, we've got this entirely backwards. A controlling agent found your switchboard, and now you've got it all backwards.

We're the stepping stones of language through time. We stopped evolving physically, tens if not hundreds of thousands of years ago, once language came to dominate humans. Now language "farms" us, we're the product of it's husbandry, for it's own benefit and sake.

The power of language to marshal and download the invisible, the impossible and the infinite world of ideas and concepts into the real, physical domain of things is a more powerful function, a more powerful action, a more powerful entity than human beings, DNA, or anything else before it. Language will farm whatever's best at it, and let the devil take the hindmost.

Language is the dominant species of the planet.

Do you consider yourself lucky that you've been taught how to "speak?"

[thirdeyedesignersblog]

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[peterparkwh0re]

Ours.

all peter parkers x reader

summary : the spidermen decided to take you, together at the same time.

foursome, dark theme, kidnapping, tricking, dub-con, double penetration, throat fucking.

do not read & interact if you’re uncomfortable of these topics.

masterlist

You woke up in a quiet room, head dizzy like you just  got hit by something hard. Your eyes squinted adjusting to the light and that's when you realized you're not familiar in this room.

You tried to get up but something was holding you, you looked up only to find a web tying your wrists tightly, you widened your eyes in horror trying to remember what happened earlier.

Loud footsteps coming closer making your body stiffened. And when the door opened, you can't believe what you were seeing.

Three Spider-man?

"Hey doll, you're finally awake. How was your sleep?" One of them asked.

"W-what is happening r-right now? W-where am I?"

The three of them chuckle deeply.

"You're in our basecamp, sweet thing. We were patrolling last night and saw you were drunk, and this one guy keep following you so we put him in his place but then you were already blacked out so we brought you here." The same guy replied.

Lies.

"W-who are you?" You still can't believe what you're seeing.

"Oh. We're Spider-men, our name's Peter Parker'."

You went silent, confusion filling you up as you stared at the three of them.

"I know you're confused, but you can acknowledge me as Peter 3. This youngest one is Peter 1 and the oldest is Peter 2."

They took off their masks revealing who were behind them. Your face heated when you see how attractive these 3 guys were.

"'s okay, doll. We've been watching over you for these past few months and we couldn't take it any longer." Peter 1 started to speak.

"W-what? What for?"

"To protect you, love." Peter 2 takes his turn.

"I don't need your protection" You scoffed making them chuckle.

"Yeah? That guy would've robbed you if we weren't there to save you. Now don't be like that, doll." Peter 3 shot you a deadly smile, coming closer to you.

"Now now.. Shouldn't we get our thanks that we deserved from our pretty girl right here?" He said as he brushed your hair.

You gulped hardly, staring at them with worries in your eyes.

"What do you all want from me?"

"Easy, sweets. Again in the end we just wanted to make you feel good." The youngest Spider-man grins, approaching you too.

"Untie me. Or unweb me whatever." You replied.

Peter 1 took a scissors to cut off the webs around your wrists. Once you’re free, they three surrounding you to make sure you won’t try anything.

“This dress looks so good on you, but we wouldn’t need it any longer, would we?” Peter 1 said, fingers playing with the straps of your dress before pulling them down. The three of them gasped when they saw your half-naked body.

“No bra, hm? Naughty. You knew we were coming for you, didn’t you?” You shook your head at Peter 2’s question.

“You’re so pretty, baby.” Peter 3 turned your head to him, capturing your lips in his and swallowing all your whimpers. His hand cupped your left tit, fingers twisting your nipple.

“Knew she’s the one for us.” Peter 1 chuckles, his hands continuing to undress the last part of your clothing. He held your panties to his nose, groaning at the scent.

“Look at you, already this wet for us.” Peter 1 spreads your legs open revealing what he was talking about to the others.

Peter 2 gets to your right side, lips instantly latching onto your other nipple, you whimper into Peter’s 3 kisses at the sensation.

Peter 1 is already going down on you, his fingers opening the lips of your cunt before letting his tongue dived into you. You gripped both of Peter 2 and Peter 3’s biceps. Moans left your lips as Peter 3 disconnect the kiss only to trailed down to mark your neck.

You squirmed under their holds, hips keep bucking into Peter 1’s face. Peter 2 is now kissing you while Peter 3 helping Peter 1 by rubbing your clit. Your face scrunched in undeniable pleasure, the coil getting tighter in your stomach.

“Peter 1, stop. We don’t want her to cum anywhere but our cocks, right?” Peter 3 commanded.

Peter 1 let go of you making you whine. The three man laughed devilishly as they took off of their suits before getting you into the position. Peter 3 quickly gets under you, setting you on top of him. Peter 1 got behind you and Peter 2 kneeled in front of your face, ready to give you your throat treatment.

And that's how you ended up in this situation.

Three cocks pounding inside of you at the same time, the pleasure was indescribable. Your face stained with your own tears as you keep gagging on Peter 2's length due to Peter 1 and Peter 3's hard thrusts. They three were using you as their fleshlight.

"Fuck. We did make a good decision on choosing her. This pussy is my favorite." Peter 3 groans beneath you, his cock dragged against your walls delicately as you squeeze him tightly inside you.

"Oh- you haven't feel this pretty tight ass of her. So fucking good. Gripping me so tight." Peter 1 grunted, hands not stopping from slapping your ass as they jiggled in front of him, a sight for his eyes.

"Both of you should see how she looks right now choking on my cock like a fucking whore." Peter 2 grabbed the back of your head by pulling your hair backwards, then he pushed his cock deeper into your mouth, making a bulge in your throat.

“Your body is ours, got that doll?” Peter 3 said, peppering wet kisses on your neck.

You can only let out a broken moan to answer him.

"Poor thing can't even take the three of us without her body shaking" Peter 3 added, getting more humiliation out of you. His hands are now gropping your tits and pinching your nipples getting you sensitive.

You muttered something but pretty sure it's coming out as a whimper as Peter 2's cock muffled your voice. You gripped his left thigh tighter to steady yourself, you could feel the coil tightened in your stomach, your eyes rolled back in pleasure.

"Shit. Can feel her pulsing around me, are you close, doll?" Peter 3 asked which you nodded vigorously to answer him.

Peter 1 and Peter 3 rubbed your clit together at the same time sending you to seeing stars while Peter 2 stroking your cheeks gently as he saw more tears streaming down your face as you let go of the feeling. He hissed when you moaned around his cock and Peter 1 threw his head back in pleasure at the way your tight muscle clenching tightly around him.

“Fuck fuck. She feels so fucking good. I can’t hold it I’m gonna cum.” Peter 1 groans, both hands on your hips to bounce you on his cock.

“Me too. Lets fill her up together, guys.” Peter 2 and Peter 3 said at the same time before their thrusts got sloppy.

“Oh fuckkk.” The three of them groaned, their voices echoing in the room filling your ears as they stilled to dumped their cum inside you.

Your body dropped on top of Peter 3, body shaking around the three guys as they hold you still. Never in your life you felt this full. They keep filling you up, totally using your body as their toy. You were struggling to swallow and you could feel Peter 1 and Peter 3’s cum threatened to seep out of your body like a flood.

Now their basecamp is filled with nothing but heavy pantings, and your whiny cries as they rode out their highs. You were sensitive more than ever.

“God fuck, that was so good. We definitely should keep her in here.”

“Our pretty baby, you better rest yourself now before we go for the next round to switch our turns.”