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midnightstar-90 · 9 months

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Nothing Like The Present

(Not My Art. This belongs to @shuploc)

Miguel O'Hara x GN! Spider-Person! Reader

Taglist | Requests | Wattpad Main Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist

Summary: Miguel and his Spider-girlfriend or boyfriend (However you get down) taking a nice little jog around the neighborhood. A woman jogs past with her baby in its stroller, and Miguel can't help but admire his significant other admiring the baby, making plans, in his head, for the future.

Warnings: FLUFF, Soft! Miguel, Small Mentions of Sex (Nothing too crazy) Slight angst

A/N: Wow! So, I wrote this as soon as I found the inspiration from @shuploc's Miguel O'Hara Fanart just so it wouldn't leave me. You should really check them out. Anyways, it's short, but I promise it's very fluffy, Soft! Miguel fic.

Words: 2.8K Words

Getting Miguel O'Hara to leave the Spider Society, for just a few hours, was a challenge. You admired his dedication to wanting to save literal universes, but with that came stress. And when Miguel was stressed, you were stressed.

You walked into Miguel's office, ready to give him the status report that he had requested. But as soon as you opened the door, you felt a small buzz from your spidey senses. Not even a second later, a book came flying at your head, in which you caught it by the spine of the book.

"It's just me, Miguel," You said, continuing your walk up to the man. This obviously wasn't your first go around with a quick-tempered and annoyingly stressed Miguel. In fact, most of the spider people would ask you to be the one to take things to the man, as he seemed to always be like this.

As you approached the man, you noticed the screens surrounding him. Some screens showed clips of Peter Parker Varients doing different things, while others showed other individuals who just happened to become a spider person. But the closer you got to the man, the more you saw what he was really staring at.

One screen that stuck out the most from the others was the screen of you laying limp in an alleyway puddle. You glanced at it with a sad look before leaning over to turn off the screen.

"Hey, I-"

Miguel quickly turned around to face you with a mean glare. The look didn't last long before his eyes met yours. His eyebrows unfurrowed, and his lips shifted from an angry sneer to a soft frown. you look up at the man with a sad smile.

"I think you need a break," you said, sincerely.

Miguel had been watching all the spider verses, looking for any anomalies that may alter the multiverse, but every time he did that, he would always come across some variant of me dying. And every time, I had to force him away from it. He would watch the clip for hours, studying it, hoping to find some sort of loophole. But Miguel knew that he couldn't alter a canon event. It's what made it a canon event.

Miguel looked down at you and sighed. He shook his head as he said, "Y/N, you know I can't. What if another anomaly-"

"Appears?" You cut him off with a knowing tone. Miguel's frown is replaced with a glare, almost as if he were annoyed, which he most likely was. It was the same exact situation every time. He would get too absorbed in trying to find anomalies, and when you told him to take a step back, he would give you an excuse as to why taking a step back wasn't a good idea. But you knew the man better than he knew himself, so you knew the signs of a cranky Miguel.

"Lyla is perfectly capable of watching over the spider verse for a couple of hours. Come on. It's not like I'm telling you to give up on the spider society, I'm just telling you to take a break and relax. You're overworking yourself, my love."

Your hands grip the man's forearms as you give the man a pleading look. He looks away, attempting to not give in to your alluring tactics. But as soon as he goes to see if you've stopped, he's instantly trapped, forcing himself not to give it. He felt like a fly in a spiderweb, begging to get out before losing everything to the hungry spider.

"Fine," he sighed, giving in to your powerful gaze. You laugh, clapping your hands, like a kid who just got what they wanted, before dragging the man out of the office and out of the Spider Society.

You and Miguel left for your apartment, after telling Jessica to look after the Spider Society and the Spider people within it. Jessica was the only one that both you and Miguel trusted with something so sacred to the large, intimidating man.

As you opened the apartment door, Miguel stood behind you with a pout. His posture stood slightly hunched with his head facing the ceiling. With a loud groan, Miguel said, "Why are we here. I'm not even tired."

You rolled your eyes at Miguel's childish behavior before responding with, "We're not here to nap. I was thinking we get all that stress out with a bit of exercise. Maybe a run. And then maybe we can get lunch before coming back here."

Miguel whined once more, following you into the small apartment. The two of you stood in the living room, in front of the door, looking at each other. Miguel clearly had the looks of someone who didn't want to be here, but you didn't care.

Instead, you left the man in the living room, to get to your room. You walked over to your dresser, pulling out the top left drawer, revealing some clothes that Miguel had left at yours, over time. Quickly shutting the drawer, you walk back to the living room. You found Miguel just standing there, staring into space, and without warning, you chucked the clothes at the man, causing him to stumble, and almost drop them.

As soon as Miguel went to open his mouth, you were quick to cut him off. "No questions. Just put those on," You barked closing your bedroom door.

Miguel looked down at the clothes in his hand, catching a whiff of something strangely familiar. A sly smirk appeared on his face as he began to calmly approach your door. He slowly opened the door. His eyes came in contact with your shirtless figure. Your body was well toned from being a part of the spider society. You weren't as bulky as Miguel, but you could tell that the muscles in your upper body were very strong.

You feel Miguel's presence behind you, and you quickly turn around with a loud "Hey!", covering your upper body (This can go both ways, can't it?). Miguel let out a soft laugh, "Nothing I haven't seen before, mi corazón." You scoff making the man laugh harder.

There was a slight pause between the two of you. Miguel's stare never left you, and neither did yours on him. He slowly approached you while lifting his sweatshirt up to his nose. He smelled it, closing his eyes as if he was smelling the most beautiful thing on earth. He let out a blissful sigh before opening his eyes once more. His eyes landed on your eyes, which shared a confused, weirded-out expression from watching the strange interaction in front of you.

The sly smirk was still on his face as he asked seductively, "Have you been wearing my clothes?" You look away from the man in front of you with blood rushing to your cheeks. Miguel saw the red tint, and smiled, knowing he got to you.

With his finger, he guided your head to face his once more. You wore a shy smile, as you hesitantly looked into his eyes. "Don't be embarrassed. I think you'd look adorable in my clothes." His voice was low, and suddenly you felt your knees start to buckle under you. Miguel's arms wrapped around your waist pulling you against his chest. His face was only centimeters away from yours, and it seemed like he was leaning closer to kiss you, but you were proven wrong when he pulled his face away from yours with a mischievous grin.

Miguel laughed, making you angrily glare at the man. You smacked his chest hard, mumbling a small, "You're such a tease," under your breath. "Just get ready," you order. Miguel does as you say, but not without giving you the occasional glance as you dressed away from him.

'I refuse to let anything happen to them,' Miguel thinks to himself, slipping on his running shorts. He watches you pull on a pair of your black jogger sweatpants, doing a slight bounce to help pull them around your waist. The joggers are baggy around your legs, but the waist area perfectly shows off your curves. Miguel just wanted to walk up behind you, so he could hold you and never let go. But he was quickly pulled out of his trans as you turned around, with everything already on.

You were now dressed in a heather grey thermal hoodie with neon mesh along the sleeve. You were looking down at your fitness band that you had gladly replaced your dimensional watch with. You looked up at Miguel, seeing that he was staring at you, and you gave him a smile. Miguel smiled back.

"It's a little breezy today. If you want to run shirtless, be my guess, but don't come crying when you catch a cold," You say smugly. Miguel scoffs, still carrying that smile that you loved to see before slipping on the hoodie that you gave him.

You grab his hand. "Come on. Let's go," You say, pulling the man out of your apartment.

Down the street from your apartment, there was a community park that everyone in your neighborhood loved to visit. It had something for everyone. Parks and water pads for the children, three different trails around the park, and even a small dog park that hosted both small and large dogs.

"This place is beautiful," Miguel spoke, almost speechless. His mouth opened, only slightly agape. He looked around at the park and marveled at the sight. "Life is much different when you extract yourself from those screens you surround yourself with."

Miguel looks down at you with a scoff. "You think you're so funny," he glares, making you laugh. Your smile beaming brighter than the sun. "Okay," he nods, looking away with a hurt frown.

Your smile flattens out into a straight line as you look at him with a heightened eyebrow. "Come on. Miguel O'Hara is hurt by a little joke?" You say in a teasing tone. Miguel doesn't move.

"Come on, baby. You know I was joking."

You hug Miguel, tightening your hold around his arms. You stay there for a few seconds, not getting any type of response from the larger man before pulling out of the hug. You look up at Miguel seeing the playful glint in his eyes as a smile slowly appears. "Race ya," Miguel shouted. Before you could even reply, Miguel darted off, leaving you confused.

By the time you realized what was happening, Miguel was already on one of the many trails surrounding the park. You let out a loud groan, calling his name as you run after him.

You eventually caught up with the man. Miguel turned to look at you as you ran beside him, slightly out of breath, and chuckled. “Glad you could make it,” he joked, matching his speed to yours.

You gave Miguel a fake laugh, flipping him off in the process. “I can't believe you left me,” you said, trying to focus on your breathing as you talked.

“You wanted me to get away from the spider society. Away from all those screens. It’s not my fault that you chose something I’m clearly better than you at,” he laughed.

You gave Miguel an “Oh, really?” look and said, “Okay, Mr. Big Man. Let’s race. First one to that pole, up there, wins. If you win, you can go back to your dark office and wait for an anomaly to appear, with no human interactions or interruptions. If I win, you have to stay here with me, all night,” you bet, extending the ‘L’ in “all”.

“Okay. You’re on,” Miguel agreed.

“On 3. 1… 2. 3,” You said quickly before running off, just as Miguel had done to you earlier. Miguel heard the sound of your laugh from where you left him. He laughed himself before chasing after you.

In all honesty, Miguel was enjoying himself. He didn't want to go back to the Spider Society, not at this current moment. He wanted to stay here and have fun for just a little longer. Just seeing the smile on your face as you two ran freely through a park made Miguel feel something that he hadn't felt in a long time.

Happiness.

The stress from the job of being Spiderman 2099 had left Miguel entirely as he sped up his movement, getting closer to you. You looked behind you, seeing Miguel catching up to you. A scream left your lips, causing the people around you to turn their heads toward you.

Your legs ran faster, hoping to get away from your boyfriend, but when you turned around, you realized that you were on the verge of running into a woman with a stroller. Your eyes went wide as you came to a screeching halt, almost tripping in the process.

The woman looked over at you confused. Your face was beaming red from all the running you had just experienced, and your heart was racing, leaving you with heavy breathing. The woman stopped walking, asking you if you were okay, to which you responded with, "No. No. I'm... good. I was just... racing my boyfriend. I was winning until... I accidentally almost bumped into you. I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. I was in the middle of the walkway. I should have known better, especially with this little one," the woman spoke, giving you a smile. You looked down at the baby in the stroller. It was a baby boy, and from the looks of it, he got most of his mother's features, which wasn't a bad thing. His mother was beautiful.

It made you wonder what it would be like if you and Miguel were to have a baby. Would they look like you or Miguel? Who's personality would they share? Would Miguel's obsession with the Spider Society, and keeping the universe safe, still be, or would he take more time to be a part of his family? Those and a hundred more questions ran through your head, all at once as you looked at the woman's baby.

Miguel saw the interaction between you and the woman. He saw you almost run into her, and he saw how you looked at the woman's baby. He's seen that look many times when Peter brought Mayday around, and that usually ended with you and him watching the Parker child.

Before, it made him sad that he couldn't give you what you wanted until his mission was complete. He couldn't risk losing you or the child that you both decided to have from something that he could have prevented. But being with you today made him realize that he was missing out on so much.

He realized that being spider people wasn't the only thing that made the two of you happy. There were plenty of things that Miguel was still learning, that made you happy. And now, he was fully prepared to give that to you. He was still going to fight hard to protect you, but spending time with you felt as if the today had awakened him to a bright future.

You and the woman finished up your conversation, sending each other quick goodbyes, before the woman started walking once more. She pushed the stroller to the side of the walkway, giving joggers or people moving quicker than her, space to go around her.

Miguel watched you as your head shifted from the woman to Miguel. You caught sight of the cheesy grin that he was wearing, replicating it, and moving closer to the man. Pulling yourself into the man, you let out a sigh and said, "Oh, I love babies."

Miguel laughed, adding a small "I know" as he held you in his arms.

"I hope one day we can start a family."

"Yeah? I could see a future with me, you, and a whole bunch of little spiders roaming around the place," Miguel spoke.

You looked up at the man, eyes beaming with happiness. "Really?" You asked him. He nodded, making your smile any bigger.

The two of you stayed in the hug for a few seconds before you removed your head from his chest, and his arms retracted from your waist. Giving your head a light scratch, your smile shifted to a frown. "I know you want to get back to the office. You a can go if you want. I'll probably head back to mine and take a shower and a nap before I go back."

Miguel's eyebrow lifted as he looked at you in confusion. "No," he shook his head. "I don't want to go back. I'll do anything you want to do, as long as I am with you," Miguel told the girl, as she looked up at him with admiring eyes.

"Okay," you beamed.

"Shall we head home, or would you like to finish our race?" You asked, earning a small "whatever you want."

"No. No. You definitely won that one, mi corazón."

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withthewerewolves · 8 months

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The "Make-Everything-Worse-and-Not-Let-Them-Talk-About-It-For-Even-Longer" AU

Because of who I am as a person, this AU was inevitable. (Sorry guys, I do only have the one kink and I gotta insert it into everything.) (Though to be fair, it turned out to be a much smaller part of the story than intended.)

So, a Nimona mpreg AU. Don’t worry about the how, it could be omegaverse, Ballister could be trans (probably this one), all the residents of the kingdom could be hermaphrodites and that’s perfectly normal, whatever floats your personal boat.

The important thing is, not long after losing his arm, Ballister realizes he’s pregnant. (As for the arm, I think this would be mostly movie-verse, but with some comic aspects mixed in. The whole thing with the sword and the Queen and Bal’s arm happened like in the movie.) He gets away, gets the bleeding stopped, recovers from the shock, etc, and starts making his prosthetic, maybe thinking about how to prove his innocence. But before he’s done, he starts having Symptoms. Ones that are Distinct enough from arm-chopping symptoms that he has to Think about them.

It doesn’t take him long to figure it out. He’s pretty smart, and has to be fairly familiar with biology to save himself from blood loss and build a robotic prosthetic. At first, he’s thinking mostly ’This is the worst time in my entire life for this to be happening’, but eventually his practical mind takes a break and his emotional mind gets to loudly trumpet a couple of facts.

A) The baby is his and Ambrosius’s. It’s something they’d talked about, sometimes, alone together in the dark of their bedroom, when a future seemed not just possible but assured. He remembers the way Ambrosius’s hand had trembled in his, the way his heart had wanted to burst with love and longing. Ambrosius may think he’s a murderer, may have cut off his arm, but Ballister will still love their child with every beat of his black heart.

And B) The Institute will not let him keep this baby. If he proves his innocence, if he goes back, the Director will send him straight to the medical center to terminate the pregnancy. It’s happened before. Knights are all on birth control as a matter of policy, and have to either retire or ask for a leave of absence before having a baby. It made sense to Ballister, back when it was explained. They were the shield between the kingdom and the darkness. No one could be out of commission unexpectedly. But some years ago, a knight had become pregnant, either on purpose or because of a failure in the birth control, and she had been offered a choice: end the pregnancy or end her career as a knight. If Ballister had thought about it, he would’ve said he’d make the same choice she did, that being a knight was his calling. But when this thought first occurs to him, while digging around the back of the cupboards for the naan bread he knows is in there, he has to sink to the floor and put his head between his knees.

That’s the moment his belief in the Institute suffers its first crack.

The second won’t come for a couple of years, when his beautiful healthy baby turns into a butterfly right before his eyes.

He definitely panics. His whole life for the last few years has been about Nimona and taking care of Nimona and keeping Nimona safe, and now she can shapeshift? That’s going to complicate so many things, upend an already delicate balance.

The Institute would kill her in a second, just for existing. Ambrosius might kill her without even thinking about it. Anyone in the kingdom might kill her, if they decide she’s a monster.

He does a couple of noninvasive tests, trying to figure out what’s going on. He doesn’t find anything conclusive, and the next time he sets Nimona on the worktable and pulls out a needle, she bursts into tears. She won’t let him comfort her until he puts the needle away. What am I even doing? he thinks. What does it matter why she can shift? She’s his daughter. He sets aside his experiments. But he doesn't give up.

He’s broken into the Institute before, for parts for his arm he couldn’t get anywhere else, but he doesn’t get caught until he breaks into the labs. He curses at himself the entire time he’s running away, he should have known the scientists don’t care about normal working hours. He fiddles with his prosthetic in the middle of the night all the time.

He goes back later, after the fuss has died down. He had to leave his apartment and his job, with his face all over the news, dredging up the mess of the knighting ceremony and restarting the hunt for his head. (How did he get an apartment and a job when he was the most notorious killer in the city, you ask? He shaved his facial hair and nobody recognized him. He accidentally ran into Todd in the street once and Todd was an asshole about it. And didn’t recognize him.) He doesn’t watch the interview with Ambrosius.

Ambrosius has grown out his hair.

This time, Ballister brings tranq shots, and leaves all the techs and guards slumped over on the floor while he rifles through their files.

He finds what he’s looking for. He finds a whole lot more than he was expecting. He sits in the darkened lab until the first guard starts to wake, thinking about what he found. He steals all the files, deleting them as he goes. He doesn’t tell anyone. He doesn’t tell you, either.

He never trusts another word the Director or the Institute says.

For a while, he helps Nimona learn to control her shifts. First to shift into what she wants (they break into a zoo after hours and she shifts into every single one of them. (Where does a giant enclosed city get zoo animals, you ask? Don’t worry about it, that’s where.) Bal hasn’t laughed that hard in a long time), then to suppress shifts if there’s anyone else around. Not shifting leaves her drained and sullen. He makes her practice all the time, even when it’s just the two of them in the little abandoned tower near the Wall they move into.

She’s maybe five or six when Ballister gives up on that. She shifts, and he scolds her. She throws a tantrum, and of course that involves more shifting. He checks that the blankets are still over the windows, that there’s no way anyone can see in.

“Nimona, honey, shifting is dangerous,” he pleads. They’ve been lucky so far, but she’s just a kid, and she’s bound to lose control someday, unless he locks her up in the tower all the time.

“But - I - have to!” she screams, little gorilla fists hitting the floor, then talons scrabbling at it.

“Sometimes there are things you can’t do,” he says, carefully not thinking about himself, “No matter how much you want to.”

“But - it - hurtsssss!” she shrieks out of the beak of some sort of large bird.

Ballister frowns. “It hurts?” he asks, “The shifting?”

Nimona must sense the change in his tone, because she’s a human again, her big eyes blurred with tears, her face still red with anger. “Not shifting,” she says on a sob.

A horrible little ball starts to grow in Ballister’s throat. “It hurts when you don’t shift?” he rasps out.

Nimona screws up her face, calmer now that he’s listening to her, but her breath still hitching. “It doesn’t hurt hurt,” she says. “It feels - bad. Not like scraping my knee, or the dreams. Not like eating pineapple. But bad.” (She has absolutely horrid nightmares. She screams until his desperate efforts finally wake her, and then she sobs herself back to sleep in his arms. He has his suspicions about where the dreams come from, and he’s working on a sleep drug that’s safe for her. She’s also allergic to pineapple, it makes her sick to her stomach. He doesn’t think about where he learned how to monitor allergies.)

Ballister sits on the ground next to her and opens his arms. She crawls into them and rests her head on his chest. He presses his face into her long red hair. The color had baffled him when she was born, nothing like any of the portraits at Ambrosius’s house or his memories of his parents. She turns into a snake and coils herself around his shoulders.

“Ok,” he says.

She hisses an inquisitive sound into his ear.

“Ok,” he says again. “Shift all you want inside the tower. If you need to shift somewhere else, tell me and I’ll help you get somewhere safe.”

The snake turns into a dog, wriggling in his arms and licking his face frantically.

“Alright, alright,” he laughs. “The rules about keeping our mouths to ourselves still apply.” To punctuate this point, he grabs her and presses loud kisses wherever he can reach. She turns into a squirrel and scampers out of his reach, laughing along.

He thinks, I’ll keep her safe, even if I have to tear down the whole kingdom to do it.

~O~

Ambrosius doesn’t know any of this. From his perspective, Bal killed the Queen and ran off after Ambrosius chopped off his arm. No one knows anything about him. Ambrosius tries to remind himself that no one had found a body either, but that comfort is colder and colder as the years wear on. He doesn’t know what to do, what to think. He’s basically a robot for weeks after the knighting ceremony. They don’t let him help with the search, and he doesn’t argue. He isn’t sure if he wants them to find Ballister or not, but they never do.

Then, years later, Ballister breaks into the Institute labs. The security cameras have a good picture of him, when Ambrosius manages to hack into them (he doesn’t want to see the look on the Director’s face if he asks to see the tape). Ballister looks older, more than just a few years should account for. He’s dressed in all black, with a cape swirling around him as he flees the scene of his crime. His hair is longer. His beard is gone. His face is set in furious concentration.

He’s alive.

And his right arm is made of wires and cables rather than flesh.

A reporter asks him about it, while he’s out on Institute business. He gets out something about how Ballister should come in so he can face justice, but he’s heard what the other knights are saying. Would there be justice, or a quiet murder after an ‘escape attempt’? He tries to tell himself that he and the Director could ensure a fair trial. All he really wants is to know why Bal did it. Was killing the Queen his plan all along? Was any of their friendship or courtship real?

Then Ballister breaks in again. This time he leaves a trail of unconscious scientists and knights in his wake. The Director confirms that he’s stolen some data, but no one knows how much, or to what purpose.

There are more break-ins, at Institute labs and storehouses across the kingdom. Sometimes Ballister takes data, sometimes medical supplies, sometimes lab supplies. There’s always destruction. People die. The Director tells him that the death of one of the scientists will set their defense research back ten years.

At first, the Director tries to keep him out of it, either out of respect for his prior relationship with Ballister, or not trusting him to do the right thing. Then Ballister robs a bank, and the people clamor for the descendant of Gloreth to protect them.

The first time he sees Ballister face to face, they’re locking swords while another lab burns behind them. Ballister wins. Ambrosius doesn’t know if he held back, but Ballister sure didn’t. Ambrosius has never seen Ballister that angry. Was this the face hiding behind Ballister’s earnest smile all along?

The next time they meet, Ballister is like stone, unstoppable, impenetrable, and cold. He barely speaks. He takes down every single knight the Institute sends, and only Ambrosius even slows him down.

Rinse, repeat.

Before Ambrosius knows it, it’s been fifteen years since he was knighted. It isn’t anything like he thought it would be. Everyone acts like his whole job is to be Ballister’s nemesis. He hardly ever gets to help people directly, like he used to. None of the other knights talk to him. The Director only calls him to her office to lecture him on his duties and how he’s failing at them. His skin care routine now involves covering the bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, and he keeps his hair long even though it’s against regulation because washing it is the only pleasant sensation in his life sometimes. All his happy memories are tainted by Ballister’s betrayal.

Then Ambrosius meets Ballister’s new sidekick.

The first time she shows up, Ballister clearly didn’t invite her. Ambrosius nearly catches them because Ballister is distracted by yelling at a pink-haired teenager in some sort of chainmail tunic.

It hurts, a little, because he’s clearly worried about her. He used to worry about Ambrosius like that, when Ambrosius fought the other trainees who were cruel to Ballister.

Then the kid turns into a dragon.

Is this who Ballister would rather care about? Rather spend his time with? This is the life he chose over Ambrosius?

The destruction is worse than usual. Civilians are too close. A little kid nearly gets crushed, but she picks up a sword and fends the dragon off all by herself. Ambrosius feels another stab of fury for Ballister. The Queen wanted to accept more common children into the Institute, but because of his actions, that little girl will never have the chance to become a knight.

The Director calls Ambrosius to her office, and for the first time in years, she doesn’t yell at him. She takes him down into the Institute archives, where the really old scrolls are. She shows him a picture of the dragon, the same dragon, fighting Gloreth. While he’s wrestling with the idea of a thousand year old monster, she sends the rest of the guards away, and tells him something else.

“The files about it must have been among the first he destroyed,” the Director says, her voice hard. “He didn’t want us to know what he had taken. If I hadn’t been read into the project, we might have no idea what we’re up against.”

“Ballister took the monster…from the Institute?” Ambrosius asks. His mind has gone fuzzy.

“It doesn’t die,” the Director says, taking him by the shoulders and shaking lightly. He can’t remember the last time someone touched him. “When she realized she couldn’t kill it, Gloreth sealed it away. We’ve been trying to destroy it for a thousand years, and Blackheart has Let. It. Out.”

If Ambrosius could remember feeling warm, he might go cold. “But…if he’s had it all these years, why hasn’t he used it against us before now?” Maybe Ballister doesn’t know what it is. Maybe it had pretended to be that teenaged girl it had first appeared to be. You saw it shapeshift, he thinks, You saw Ballister see it shapeshift. Did he look surprised to you?

The Director shakes her head. “We couldn’t destroy it, but we could keep it small. He’s probably been biding his time all these years, waiting for it to grow up enough to be really dangerous.”

Something about that sentence seems off to Ambrosius, but before he can think about it too much, the Director catches his eyes and holds them. “It is imperative for the safety of the kingdom that we contain the monster. It cannot be allowed to hurt anyone else.”

Ambrosius has never tried to talk to Ballister directly before. He’s played that first fight over and over again in his mind. Ballister had frozen, at first. So had Ambrosius, if he’s honest with himself. He’d wanted to beg Ballister to come back, to promise that they could fix it. He must not have phrased it well. Ballister had been so angry, and eventually Ambrosius had given up on words. But this time is different, he tells himself. Ballister must see that this is bigger than petty theft and vandalism. He didn't want the monster there. Maybe he knows it's dangerous. Maybe he regrets taking it. Maybe he needs help getting rid of it.

He's still skulking around the outer ring looking for black capes (being a full time nemesis leaves a lot of time for skulking), when the call comes in. He's only too glad to abandon his original idea for the more elegant plan of waiting until all the other knights are moaning on the floor or evacuating the burning manufactory and he and Ballister have locked swords to lean in and hiss "Nachos?"

Ballister looks at him like he's lost his mind. Then his monster crashes through the manufactory roof with a hunk of machinery in her claws, Ballister disarms (Ambrosius mentally winces, but he's used to it by now) him in three easy moves. There's a cascading crash as the monster (presumably) drops her prize. When the debris settles, both of them are gone.

Ambrosius goes to the Antlered Serpent as soon as he's done debriefing with the Director. She's furious. The scientists have been working around the clock to produce something to stop the monster, and yet the knights, especially Ambrosius, failed to so much as slow it down. She tells Ambrosius that if he can’t recapture it cleanly he’ll have to start the containment process in the field. She describes enough of the process that he promises to catch it next time just so he can get out of her office before he vomits. He knows it’s a monster, but what if it tries to look like a person again? Can he do that to someone? (Can he even do it to a monster?)

He has to talk to Ballister.

He sits in the Antlered Serpent all night, trying desperately to stay awake. He drinks coffee until he’s shaking. He doesn’t order any nachos. Thousands of possible conversations swim through his thoughts, but none of the opening words are right. The sun starts to rise. He thinks maybe he would wait forever rather than go back to the Institute, but the owner kicks him out when they close.

What’s he supposed to do now?

Only his knight training stops him from falling over when an arm snakes out of an alley and drags him in as he passes. He twists, slamming the assailant against the alley wall, but they dart out of his hold. His sword is drawn before he recognizes the facial hair peeking out of the shadow of the cloak’s hood.

“Ballister?”

Ballister’s expression doesn’t change, but he nods to a set of shabby folding chairs set next to a dumpster. There’s a take out container on one of them. “I didn’t want this conversation to be overheard,” he says, voice hard.

Ambrosius hesitates for a moment, but it’s too late to back out. It’s been too late for a very long time. The sound of his sword sliding back into its scabbard scares a flock of birds off a nearby roof. He sits in the empty chair, his armor sounding like destruction in the silence of the early morning. Ballister huffs, just like he used to do when Todd said something annoying, and hands Ambrosius the take out container. While Ballister is settling into the other chair (no less noisily, Ambrosius thinks smugly), he opens it.

“Nachos?” he asks, a little incredulous.

“Don’t worry, there’s no olives,” Ballister sneers, “It’s not poisoned either.”

Ambrosius is pretty sure that if Ballister was going to kill him, he’d have done it years ago. His stomach chooses that moment to remember that he’s had nothing but coffee all day. He eats a nacho. It tastes like better times. He flips the lid closed again.

“It’s about your sidekick,” he says.

“My daughter. I thought it might be,” Ballister says. His jaw is clenched tight.

“Your what?” Ambrosius asks, thrown.

“My daughter,” Ballister says. His eyes narrow. Ambrosius has a flash of how Ballister’s eyes used to look, wide and gentle and kind. He wonders if the warmth in them was only ever in his head. “If you can’t call her that, we have nothing to talk about.”

Before Ballister can get up, Ambrosius says, “Your daughter then. Ballister.” He has to stop. The single nacho feels like worms in his stomach. Ballister’s daughter. Gloreth. That thing made Ballister see it as his daughter?

Ballister doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t leave either.

Once Ambrosius has pulled himself together, he manages, “They want me to kill her.”

“You tried to kill her today,” Ballister says, voice cold. “Is killing children what heroes do these days?”

Maybe if he’d slept sometime in the last 36 hours he could have stopped himself. Maybe if he hadn’t just sat through the Director explaining in exquisite detail what heroes are expected to do to monsters, he could have stayed silent. Maybe if Ballister wasn’t sitting here looking both like a stranger and like the man he’d once thought he’d see across the breakfast table every morning, he could have kept his words in the back of his throat where they belong.

But all those things are true. So he says, “How would you know? You never even tried to be a hero.”

He half expects Ballister to fly off the handle, but instead Ballister pins him with that icy stare, mouth tight. There are wrinkles around it that weren’t there 15 years ago. He wonders if they’re smile lines or frown lines.

“The Institute was never going to let me be a hero,” he says, as if it’s a fact of life. As if it was carved into the stone of the Wall. As if he’s raged about it, cried about it, examined it from every angle, and finally accepted it. Fire is hot, water is wet, there are monsters at the gates, and Ballister was never going to be allowed to be a hero.

It makes Ambrosius want to punch him. Who had accepted him into the Institute in the first place? Who had spent hours lecturing him on noble social etiquette even when he continued to make mistakes? Who had excitedly selected his second favorite sword to gift to the new trainee? “You can’t blame the Institute for how your life turned out! You made the choice to kill the Queen!”

Ballister is on his feet so quickly the chair falls backward with a crash. “You really believe that? After everything, after all this time, you really think I killed the Queen?”

Ambrosius stands too, the nachos scattering at his feet. His exhausted brain is sharpening with adrenaline, but everything seems to be moving a little too fast, as if his eyes are on a half second delay and his mind is trying to compensate. “I was standing right next to you Bal, I saw you kill her.”

“Don’t call me that,” Ballister snarls. “And if I recall correctly, you weren’t standing right next to me. I very distinctly remember a sword’s length of distance, specifically, between your hand and my arm.”

Ballister has never said anything about his arm. In all this time, all those meetings over flashing blades, he’s never thrown this at Ambrosius. Maybe he knew it would land true. Maybe all those fights were Ballister playing with his food.

Ambrosius can’t stop himself. He looks at Ballister’s metal arm. He can’t look away from it. It’s oddly beautiful, with the pre-dawn light glinting off of it. Each finger is individually articulated, all the joints perfect and sanded smooth, at odds with the scuffed and scratched metal of the forearm. He wants to examine every inch of it. He wants to smash it to pieces. He wants to have never touched anything sharper than a butter knife.

“I’m so…sorry.” He doesn’t mean to say that either. His mouth and his eyes have both betrayed him. Well, they’re in good company. “For your arm.”

He doesn’t realize Ballister is moving until his back hits the other side of the alley. Dimly, he registers that he should be afraid. Ballister was always the better fighter, but Ambrosius was no slouch, he could defend himself. But with his current state of distraction and sleep deprivation, he doesn’t stand a chance. The fear never comes.

Ballister is pressed against him, closer than he’s been in more than a decade. Their armor clinks softly where it rubs together. His face is so close that Ambrosius can make out every wrinkle, every gray hair. It hurts like a kick to the gut that he didn’t get to see them grow in. Time stops for just a second, just long enough for something in Ambrosius, something he’d thought long since starved to death, to wake up and roar its desperation. It’s all he can do not to reach out and pull Ballister closer.

Ballister wouldn’t be receptive. He’s lost his icy calm, the way he hasn’t since that first fight. With his face twisted in fury, he somehow looks younger, just the way Ambrosius remembers him.

“I don’t care about the arm!” he yells. It seems to echo between them, no place for the sound to escape to. “After all this time, that’s all you have to say? That you’re sorry about my arm?”

“I am sorry!” Ambrosius yells back. He doesn’t mean to be yelling, they’re close enough that he could whisper, but the words come out at a yell anyway. “I hurt you, and I did it without even thinking! You! It shouldn’t matter what you’d done! I thought I’d killed you!” He��s going to cry. He hasn’t cried in years, and he’s going to break that streak in front of this man. Well. Better Ballister than anyone else, he supposes.

Ballister makes a sound, like a roar of rage stifled by a sob. “You should have known me,” he says, quieter but raw, like it hurts his throat on the way out. “You should have known I wouldn’t do something like that.”

Ambrosius barely processes the words, because Bal (and it is Bal now) slumps forward and buries his face in Ambroius’s shoulder, and Ambrosius’s arms come up on instinct (oh how he wishes he didn’t have instincts) to wrap around him, draw him as close as he can get.

His lungs are too tight. It’s been so long since anyone touched him, and it’s Bal, his best friend, the man he loves (still, he has never been able to deny in the privacy of his own mind that he loves him still), the person he has missed like a limb. Maybe they both left a part of themselves on that arena floor.

Bal’s hair is as soft as ever when Ambrosius curls into him. The gray glints in the weak sunlight like silver threads. Bal’s breath puffs warm, wet, and ragged against his throat. Somehow the flesh hand ended up wrapped tight around his upper arm, the metal one tangled in his hair. He thinks he might explode. All this time he’s been a keg of blasting powder, and he hadn’t even known Bal is a match.

Then the words trickle in. “Ballister,” he says, slowly enough to let the thought finish forming. “Are you saying you didn’t kill the Queen?”

Bal goes completely still. Then he slowly withdraws his hand from Ambrosius’s hair, so careful not to snag any of the strands. He pulls back. His eyes are red but the fury has drained out of him. He looks as tired as Ambrosius feels, worn down to the bones.

“No, Ambrosius. I didn’t.”

It’s been so long since anyone has used his first name, he’d nearly forgotten what it sounded like. Ballister was always the only one who did. He used to love the way it sounded on Bal’s tongue, the way his accent hugged the last syllable. It doesn’t sound like it used to, but it hurts all the same. Not as much as everything else, though.

Early on, he’d doubted. It hadn’t made any sense. Ballister loved the Queen, maybe not quite like a mother or quite like a goddess, but something like the two combined. Or he’d seemed to. He’d seemed excited to be a knight, open and affectionate to Ambrosius, kind to the street kids who sometimes came up to him on patrol. A years-long plot of deceit and infiltration culminating in assassination didn’t seem his style. And yet, the Queen was dead. His image of Ballister could never fit what he’d done, but he’d seen him do it. Therefore, it was his image that was incorrect.

Wasn’t it?

But he’d never managed to come up with a motive.

Ballister holds his gaze, but his eyes are full of resignation. He doesn’t expect Ambrosius to believe him.

Does Ambrosius believe him?

It would be insane to take the word of a man who has spent the last fifteen years terrorizing the populace, defying the Institute, and trampling the peace and order and safety that the Institute provides. It would be insane to take the word of a man he hasn’t spoken to in a decade and a half. It would be insane to take the word of a villain.

But Gloreth help him, Ambrosius does believe him.

His legs abruptly decide not to hold his weight, and he slides down the wall to sit on the ground. “But - why?” It’s not the question he wants to ask. He doesn’t know what question he wants to ask. Gloreth, if he accepts this as true, what does it push out of alignment? What parts of his worldview does he have to sacrifice to make room for Ballister being innocent? (If he’s innocent then Ambrosius cut off his arm for nothing.)

“I don’t know why,” Ballister says. He hasn’t moved, and probably Ambrosius should feel vulnerable crouching at his feet. If it were anyone else, probably he would.

“You don’t know why?” Ambrosius snaps. “It’s been fifteen years, and you didn’t investigate?”

He doesn’t look away from the patch of concrete between Ballister’s boots, but he can hear the frown in his voice. “Of course I investigated. I know who, and I know how. But she didn’t exactly leave records of her thought process.”

That snaps him out of it. The back of his head bounces off the wall, but the pain is nothing to the need to see Ballister’s face. “You have records? Proof? You could clear your name?”

He’s seen Ballister frown plenty in the last fifteen years. Some were furious, some were intent, some spoke to a kind of focus that Ambrosius had to forget about until after Ballsiter had inevitably won the duel and Ambrosius was alone in his dorm. This frown isn’t what he’s used to seeing. It looks confused, unsure, lost like Ballister had been when he’d first started training.

“What use would that be?”

“Bal,” he coughs, the name sticking in his throat. He’s been saying it a lot, enjoying how it feels in his mouth, even if it hurts on the way up his throat. “Ballister. If we can prove your innocence, you can come back. Be a knight again, a hero.” Be with me, he doesn’t say.

Ballister takes a long, slow breath. It whistles through his nose. He always did get sinus problems in the spring, Ambrosius thinks wildly. Ballister blows the breath out through his mouth, just as slow. Then he says, “I should have known this conversation was a mistake.”

Ambrosius flinches like he’s been slapped. “What?” His legs are a little steadier now, so he pushes himself to his feet. Ballister steps back, putting distance between them.

“I will never go back to the Institute,” he says.

Ambrosius waits a minute for him to go on, but he doesn’t. “Why not?” It seems like a reasonable question. Bal had been happy training to be a knight, hadn’t he? He’d been the best of all of them. The last fifteen years have certainly proven that.

Ballister scrubs his hands over his face. “I don’t know if I have the energy to take you through it all,” he says, and his voice sounds like he honestly is just tired, rather than trying to keep secrets.

“Can you…give me the quick version?” Gloreth, anything. This has made no sense since the moment that sword turned green, and Ambrosius hadn’t even known how much he needed to understand until it had his chest in a vice.

Ballister’s laugh sounds strangled, not at all like the restrained chuckle he used to have. Ambrosius thinks he might like it, under other circumstances. “I’m not sure there is a quick version.” But he rights his folding chair and sits down, motioning to the other one. Ambrosius takes it. “Might as well start with the proof,” he says, fishing his phone out of his pocket. Ambrosius’s armor doesn’t let him access his pockets. He’s a little jealous.

When Ballister passes over the device with a video queued, he has to stop himself from grabbing it like a starving person might grab bread. Instead he takes it carefully and presses play.

“Where did you get this?” he asks quietly when it’s over. He doesn’t know what he’s feeling. He’s feeling a lot of things, or nothing. All the emotions are crowding together and preventing any from getting through, like commuters boarding the subway.

“From the squire,” Ballister says, taking the phone back. “I needed to know what had happened, even if I already knew it wouldn’t change anything.”

“Why wouldn’t it change anything?” It’s hard to get the words out. He’s feeling things now. He’s feeling that Ballister could have come back to him right at the start and he’d chosen not to.

Ballister looks at him for a long time, or at least it feels like it. A thousand years, maybe. Or fifteen. Then he seems to come to a decision, breathes deep again, and says, “Because I already knew I was pregnant.”

The words don’t make sense, like a bad translation from another language, and then they slot into place. “You were - you -” It’s hard to get his head between his knees with the armor on, but he manages. The roaring in his ears doesn’t stop, but the edges of his vision start to fade back in.

“Yeah,” Ballister says, “That’s how I took it, too.”

“What happened?” he chokes out. He wishes he could take the words back. He really doesn’t want to know. He can’t bear not knowing.

Ballister shrugs. “You tried to kill her.”

A wave of horror swamps him, like a thunderstorm rolling over the Wall. He gags on the single nacho, on having hurt his family again. Why does he keep doing that? He shouldn’t be allowed to have family. If he keeps this up, he won’t.

"She’s our daughter?" Oh, this is going to come back to haunt him. If he has nightmares about killing their kid before he even met her, will they replace some of the old nightmares about cutting off Ballister’s arm? Or will it be cumulative?

Ballister makes a noise, but Ambrosius can't look up to see what his face is doing. The nachos are spread out beneath his feet like disposable toy soldiers. There aren't any olives.

“She’s my daughter,” he says, firmly. “Genetics be damned.”

Is that worse? To discover he has a child, fifteen years too late to be of any use to anyone, and then be immediately denied any claim on her? By the man he still loves, the man he had wanted to raise children with back when he saw the world with rose-tinted glasses rather than bleak fluorescent clarity?

He knows this isn’t really a defense, but he says it anyway. “If I contributed half her DNA-” Oh Gloreth, if he contributed half her DNA then she’s a descendant of Gloreth too. Is that why Bal never told anyone about her? He could almost forgive that.

But no, Ballister immediately shakes his head. “You didn’t.”

Ambrosius shoots him an incredulous glance over one arm. “Come on, I know you didn’t cheat on me.”

Ballister makes a noise again, this one more like a strangled laugh. There was a time when Ambrosius had known all Bal's noises, when they were as familiar and comforting as birdsong outside his window. He wants to hoard them, catalog every single one, compare them to the old sounds. He keeps his head between his knees. “You can believe regicide but not that I’d cheat on you?”

“Well, did you?” Ambrosius hasn’t. Not for all these years, even though their relationship was clearly over and his parents have given up on him contributing to the bloodline the usual way and started talking about surrogates. Probably they’ll want to raise their hypothetical grandchild, since he’ll be too busy losing sword fights with Ballister.

There’s a pause. “No,” Ballister says, sullen. Then, “She doesn’t have any of my DNA either. That doesn’t make me any less her father.”

Ambrosius isn’t going to argue that, but he does say, “Where did she come from, then?” Parts of his conversation with the Director creep back into his thoughts. She’d said the Institute had her. Oh no, what if some action of Ambrosius’s (the searches? He could have pretended to search the city and led the knights in the wrong direction but he hadn’t. But how was he to know which direction was wrong?) had caused Ballister to lose the baby and then he’d snuck back into the Institute for something (to talk to Ambrosius?) and found baby Nimona there and in his grief, decided to raise her as his own?

No, that’s a soap opera. Also, why would the Institute have a baby sitting around?

Ballister sighs, long and noisy. “I thought she was ours, biologically I mean. She didn’t look like either of us, but what do I care about the chances of someone who looks like me and someone who looks like you producing a red haired, light skinned baby? She’s my daughter, and I was too busy trying not to get caught while keeping her fed and dry to worry much about her looks.” He pulls in another long, noisy breath. Ambrosius thinks he could sit up, but maybe this conversation is better had without eye contact.

“Then, she started shifting.” There’s a rough sound, like Ballister is rubbing his flesh hand through his facial hair. “I knew what the Institute, what you, would think about her, the life she’d have to lead to stay safe, to keep her secret. I’d have done anything to spare her that. But she is who she is, and I wouldn’t change her.” His voice is laced with fondness. It’s as familiar as the ache in his muscles after a hard day training, and the pain of it feels good in the same way. He’s glad Ballister hasn’t been alone. “I don’t know why I was so sure the Institute would have information on people like her. I’d never been allowed in the labs. But if they did know anything, that’s where it would be. So I broke in-”

“I saw the security tape,” Ambrosius blurts out.

Silence. Then, “Oh?”

“From the first break in,” Ambrosius clarifies. “You looked-” his voice cracks. He coughs. “I didn’t know, before that, that you had survived.” He used to have the most vivid waking nightmares, about Ballister’s corpse rotting in some back alley or forgotten basement, unidentifiable except for the missing right arm bones. He’d been afraid both that his love did give them some psychic connection and those visions were because Ballister was dead, and that they didn’t and he’d grow old and die without ever knowing. His mother taught him some grounding exercises, and he’d stopped letting the visions take over. Ballister was alive. He had to be. And then he saw the security tape. Ballister was alive! But he was as lost to Ambrosius as he ever had been.

He wants to demand to know why Bal never tried to talk to him back then, but he knows the answer. Would he have believed him? He’d never stopped believing, deep down in the very bottom of his heart, that Bal wouldn’t do something like that, but that was exactly why he could never give it any weight. It had been made very clear to him that he couldn’t trust his own judgment. If he was asked to choose between the love of his life, who he may have never known at all, and the life that was still shiny around the edges, what would he have done? He doesn’t know, so he stays quiet.

Ballister is quiet for long enough that he thinks about raising his head to look, then says, “You didn’t kill me,” in the quiet, low, rumbling voice that he always thought no one ever heard but him. Maybe he uses it with Nimona.

With a cough, Ballister says, “We’re getting off topic.”

“I see what you mean about there not being a quick version,” Ambrosius says. His neck hurts, so he sits up. The roaring in his ears doesn’t come back, but one look at Ballister is too much for his heart. He looks resolutely at the wall across the alley.

“This is the important part, probably,” Ballister says.

“You did find her in the Institute, didn’t you?” He remembers the Director telling him just the day before that Ballister had stolen the shapeshi - Nimona - from the Institute. That doesn’t fit what Ballister is telling him. Who does he believe? He forces himself to be skeptical. This whole mess happened because he’d blindly believed too many people, and gone into a tailspin when they conflicted.

“Yeah,” Ballister says, biting off the words like he could crush them between his molars. He sighs. “It turns out they had a lot of information on her.”

Did the files talk about what you had to do (what they did) to contain someone like Nimona? Was Ballister forced to read about the uncaring, impersonal torture of his infant daughter? Ambrosius doesn’t let himself think about it. He sort of understands why Ballister might blow up a lab or two after that.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ambrosius sees Ballister working his jaw to contain his anger, just like he had when Todd and the others went after him and he knew he couldn’t do anything about it. His voice is low and defeated when he says, “I don’t know why the Director did it. This can’t have been her plan. Maybe she hadn’t come up with the sword idea yet. Maybe they needed an expendable test subject. Maybe she thought the pregnancy would kill me. They’d done it before with that result. Maybe she intended to use Nimona for some purpose and she switched my sword so I’d be in a convenient dungeon. Maybe the scientists acted alone. Probably I’ll never know. It isn’t important in the long run.”

Isn’t important? How could Ballister look at the event that changed his life, stripped his hopes and dreams away, left him alone and injured and pregnant and on the run, that took him from Ambrosius, and say it isn’t important?

Ballister huffs a little laugh, just like he used to, nearly silent so no one but Ambrosius could hear. “I guess I can confirm one of my suspicions. That medical exam a few weeks before the knighting ceremony. It wasn’t…weirdly invasive for the rest of you, was it?”

Ambrosius curls his hands, wishing the gloves weren’t there so he could dig his nails into the meat of his palms. He wants to hurt something, even if it’s only himself. “No.”

Ballister nods grimly. “That’s when they did it, then.”

Why? Why would anyone do that? He never liked that he couldn’t come up with a motive for Ballister. Is there a motive for the Director in this turn of events?

“She’s been leaning pretty hard on you being a commoner and reaching above your station and putting us all in danger,” he says, slowly. Is that a motive? It’s absurd. She saw how hard Bal worked just like the rest of them. She knew how good he was. Would she really do any of this? Would Ballister do what she said he’d done? Ballister had proof for the sword being switched. Did he have proof for this too? “You deleted all the files about Nimona.”

“I stole them,” Ballister corrects. “And then I tracked down every scientist who had ever been a part of her project, and I killed them. I destroyed the labs, anywhere there might be evidence, anywhere they might try to hold her. I’ll keep doing it.”

So Ballister really had killed those scientists. Some of the deaths attributed to him couldn’t have been part of the original project, they were barely out of the Academy. Had they been collateral? Did they know something? Did Ballister care?

“Why are you telling me this?” It scrapes in his throat, catching on every day that Ballister hadn’t told him this. “What do you want me to do?”

For the first time in his retelling, Ballister catches his eyes and holds them. “Because you tried to kill her today.” His eyes slip away, never letting anything tether him to Ambrosius for long. “And I thought that if you knew, knew that she was just a kid, you might not kill her next time.” He looks up at the slowly lightening sky. Has this whole conversation fit in the space it takes the sun to clear the walls? It feels like this conversation has stretched forever, back to the beginning of time. Like this conversation has been happening in the background for their entire lives, just waiting for this alley, these rusted chairs, this dawn. “Stupid of me, I suppose.”

“Of course I’m not going to kill her!” Ambrosius bursts out. “I’ve been clinging to hope all night that you might have some way for me to not have to kill her!” He has, hasn’t he. That’s what this whole thing with the nachos was about. He knew he couldn’t do it and he wanted an excuse. But there isn’t an excuse, not really. It’s the same question he’s been asking for fifteen fucking years.

What will he choose; Ballister, with all the moral uncertainty and broken trust that comes with him? Or his duty, and all the moral uncertainty and broken trust that comes with the Institute? He’d thought, once, that he could have both. Now he knows for sure that he can’t, that they’re opposing chess players and he can only wear one color. A knight can only have one king.

If he chooses his duty, this legacy that will crush him under its weight, he’ll have to admit that he’s a coward.

If he chooses Ballister, the man he loves, the teenager he never got to raise, he’ll have to admit that he made the wrong choice fifteen years ago.

Ambrosius Goldenloin is a lot of things, but he isn’t a coward, and he isn’t afraid to admit to his mistakes.

He asks, again, “What do you want me to do?”

#nimona #nimona fic #goldenheart #cw mpreg #cw discussion of abortion #it started out as just rambling and then turned into a proper fic halfway through #my writing

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rainbowcarousels · 1 month

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I wanted to do a seperate post because of people who don't want Rebirth spoilers but the fact that the three friends in LOVELESS really look like the 'children of man' that the Cetra explain the story of Jenova with fascinates me.

As does the fact that the Cetra here kind of look like the Sephiroth clones.

The Cetra spirits tell that humanity were afraid and envied them, likely stoked by the Jenova influence and they fought and died together until they started to fight and die between themselves. They were 'forsaken by fate, abandoned to unquenchable anger and unbearable grief, condemned and driven forth powerless to forestall the coming of our end'. We even see some of the battles between the Cetra, humanity and Jenova play out.

The actual retelling of Jenova's coming is here:

"Long ago, a wound marred the northern lands and to mend it did many venture forth, only to be met with disaster. A deciever that stole the faces of the dead - of mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers lost. With their voices did it sow the seeds of discord among our people, among the children of man. For the planet did we lay down our lives in battle, and in death, returned to her embrace. Yet our adversary did not. Could not. Thus did it fall into a deep slumber. And in the long silence of its sleep, it was given the name 'Jenova'. Heed well our warning of that which is to come: the reunion. When our adversary's scattered malignancy shall converge to plague the planet once once more. It has been our sacred duty to protect our planet against any who would threaten it. They who came from without were one such threat. The Gi, who with bitter prayer forged the black materia. So foul was the orb's magic that we knew at once it must be hidden, that none might ever weild its terrible power. The black materia shall summon the destroyer of worlds. The meteor shall fall, sundering the skies and shattering the earth. All life shall perish."

There's a lot of key terms there that link through to LOVELESS and this is just another reason why I think LOVELESS is based on something from the era in which Jenova invaded. It provides a lot of interesting background, I guess I had never considered there were in fact full blown battles in the Jenova Take Over vol. one, but it makes total sense there would be. It really adds to the whole 'history doesn't repeat itself but it does rhyme' vibe of the entire R-verse.

Finally, there is the version of LOVELESS - or rather, the excerpts, it's clear we're only seeing snippets of a larger story - that we see in Rebirth is known as the G edition. Again, the wording shifts and changes but the core narrative remains the same.

When the end of days is come The Goddess alights from heav'ns above 'Pon those Her blessing She doth bestow True happiness but they shall know To claim Her boon, a valiant three Sally forth, heroes they would be One's life cut short, another slain Naught but a prisoner doth remain Bereft of his wings, he falls from grace Yet venerated is he in Her embrace Now, through the cruel world hath forsaken us all Will our hero ne'ertheless stand tall?

#ff7 rebirth #ff7 rebirth spoilers #i was just reminded of this #loveless #cetra

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fireflowerpom · 5 months

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With the Genshin Impact brainrot has come falling so deep into things regarding it for the last year - Including several muses coming out of the woodwork from ages past! This girl here is Astra Fellheart - a woman from Fontaine whose family is a giant in the nation's mining industry, as well in ore and gemstone sales. She's the younger of a set of twins, and, along with her brother Apollo, was raised by aides and attendants rather than their overly busy parents, who had started and grew the family business into what it's become, with the express desire to be nothing more than future heads of the company. A raising that was done completely wrong, and that Astra seeks to correct and grow from after her 18th birthday, when she finally speaks up to her parents and sees the employees at fault fired and replaced, and her freedom from the strict, overbearing life she'd been leading granted.

She's now nearing 30, and still learning how to navigate things as a regular person - A process easier to learn and navigate with the help of her husband Wriothesley, the Duke of Meropide and the one to give her a place to belong within Meropide's walls. The title of Duchess of Meropide takes some getting used to, but... Hey, who says she won't eventually~?

She uses a hydro vision when she fights, and is armed with a polearm. Her coat is also a modification and redesigned guard's uniform coat, a means to help her fit in a little better while not putting herself on the same level as the Duke despite her title stating she is. She's not. She's just a person, and she wants everyone to see her as such, even if she will make herself on the level of the friendlier guards. <3

#Pom Draws #Astra #Genshin Impact OC #GI OC #Astra's fairly fandomless like Sera but she's got primary verses #in two original settings and Genshin? So I'mma just say she's a GI OC #Cause it's not wrong XD #Kasa gave me GI brainrot in october of last year ('22) and I've been lost in that ever since with her <3 #Astra's just the latest of the OCs I've chucked in there XD #She's got a LOT of backstory with Wriothesley and their lives and fates are forever intertwined #But she still really just wants to learn how to be a regular person able to navigate things on her own #Doing better with that but when she was raised away from people with her fate chosen for her?#Easier said than done even now #Bonus points to noting the various inspirations and nods to others in her outfit <3!

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anxso · 6 months

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@ygoc-week day 5 is swap, so let’s swap to talking about another OC for a bit!

YU-GI-OH! DM — ISABELLA “IZZ” ROOKE

Oh Izz. Izz baby. My girl :3c She's the main character of a DM alternate fic called Soul Release, named after a card that's very important to her. She survived a tragic pileup that killed her entire family. Unbeknownst to her, this event tied her to a freshly-born reincarnation of Anubis named Rin in this verse.

This version of DM also includes a faction of worshippers of Apophis because of the existence of The Prophet of Apophis, a strong leader and manipulator… as cult leaders tend to be.

Aigami/Diva also appears earlier in this story rather than being a post-canon aspect; we get a Kisara reincarnation named Sapha, a German TCG champion; and Battle City gets a top 16 on the blimp with these three OCs especially mixing things up via their being chosen by the Wickeds.

I say “chosen,” but both Yami Bakura/Zorc and Rin/Anubis work together to create them to oppose the Egyptian gods. Yami B and Rin have a… working relationship, very much rooted in “the enemy of my enemy is my friend.” They both strive for the pharaoh’s downfall. Rin chooses Avatar for herself while Yami B takes Wicked Dreadroot. Then Prophet blows up the museum, catching Yami B in the blast, and steals it for himself. Rin gives Eraser to Izz because she sees Izz as a puppet Rin can coerce to do her bidding anytime, including opposing the pharaoh.

Izz moves to Yugi and co’s school. She’s fairly distant from everyone in her life because of the tragedy, but they are kind to her and she is kind in turn. She wins local tournaments and tops regionals because, in order to hide from grief, she fixates on Duel Monsters deckbuilding and ratios and meta etc. This is enough to earn her a Duelist Kingdom invite. Overall, she’s an anxious mess who needs a hug and isn’t sure how to properly interact with other people anymore. She feels like a cataclysm waiting to happen again and again.

Now the elephant in the room! You see her with the Pyramid of Light. Rin approaches Izz after her first regional win. Izz is weak at the knees for beautiful women (and men—everyone is a bi disaster, remember?). Rin explains she hosted the tournament and forgot about a particular prize. She compliments Izz’s dueling and gifts her the Pyramid of Light, saying she’d like to get to know her better. Izz is flabbergasted and accepts the Pyramid, asking only what it is. Rin only describes it as valuable jewelry and recommends Izz keep it on her person.

The iridescent swirls in the pyramid’s sky blue are mesmerizing to Izz, and staring at it provides an indescribable comfort… and focal point to keep her grounded/stop her out of body experiences such that she does indeed wear it constantly

This has an unintended side effect

See, Izz wears a necklace (in the artwork, matches Dark Magician Girl’s pendant) that just so happens to contain the ancient and slumbering spirit of Mana. Being so close to the dark energy of the Pyramid of Light stirs her, and she becomes Izz’s ghost like companion similar to the pharaoh and Yugi. Mana is always trying to be a positive influence on Izz where Rin is like the devil on her shoulder. Izz often makes mistakes and trusts the wrong people, hurting her friendships with the gang and repairing them again.

Her using Wicked Dreadroot however… that one will certainly be difficult to come back from.

And as for pairings, I’m undecided and going so many directions! I would probably have to write it all out.

(but my heart says fellow orphan Seto Kaiba if Izz can ever look away from all the other gorgeous gorgeous guys and gals) (Rin can’t stop rizzing her up) (y’all just WAIT until she meets Ishizu)

I’m just a writer! Artist credit in first image and rest are picrew

#yugioh oc week 23 #ygo fanfiction #yugioh oc #she uses a zombie deck surely it’s not symbolic #ryu kokki is her ace!#same stats as red-eyes bc she does NOT have protagonist energy

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annerbhp · 1 year

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hi!! I was rereading your works, and I wanted to ask something. In the third part of the Armistice Series you say: “They chat a while about mutual friends, Neville filling them in on Luna’s latest trip and how Seamus and Dean are doing. A lot of his stories are peppered with mentions of Hannah, as he seems to eat most of his meals at the Leaky these days.”

Was this a foreshadowing for HannahxNeville? I thought Hannah might have been ace but maybe she is not aro? I was just curious and Neville is an excellent character in Changeling-verse. Thank you in advance!!

Ahhhhh, you had to ask me about this. My great regret. So, like. I may have mentioned there having been a plan at one point. Of a fourth armistice. and then a Dudley fic. And then maybe another armistice fic. Well AFTER THAT, there was supposed to be a NEVILLE fic. My darling. This fic. the one I have all of 1000 nonsensical words scribbled about and am pretty sure will never get written.

In general, it's supposed to be a 'Augusta Longbottom dies and Neville inherits the house and tries to deal by spending all his time in the gardens and greenhouses of the old manor while various of his friends move in and out as needed' fic. Neville deciding if being an auror was really for himself or for his Gran. For his parents. And, yes, Hannah, his best friend of nearly a decade, being there to help every step of the way. It's how they both find a roundabout way to the paths and dreams they both thought closed forever to them, and fall in love along the way, even if it doesn't look quite the way they've been told it's supposed to.

You can have what little I have, if you want! Snippet of the unnamed fic below. (cw: death of a family member, grief)

Augusta Longbottom dies the way she lives her life—on her own schedule, exactly when she is ready, and with complete dignity.

Neville speaks to her one last time the evening before, sitting by her enormous bed in a stiff, uncomfortable chair. He isn’t close enough to touch her, but close enough to hear her words, quiet but still laced with steel.

“You’ve made me proud, Neville. Walking in your father’s footsteps, completing his fight. Taking up the work that needs to be done.”

It’s an ending, certainly.

The thing she doesn’t tell him is what’s supposed to come next.

At the wake, Ginny is there, pregnant and impatient while trying not to look like she is, Harry a bit wide-eyed and terrified when he isn’t looking at her with the soppiest grin Neville’s ever seen.

It’s been eight years since Ron and Hermione got married, but Harry and Ginny still haven’t shown any inclination, even as her belly swells. Their friends are smart enough not to say anything about it, even if the press is as stupid as ever.

Ginny reaches out and holds his hand.

“I need to go tell my mum and dad,” Neville says as the guests start to depart. He isn’t sure why he hasn’t gone yet.

“We’ll go with you,” Ginny says, voice fierce in that way that says she will not be argued with.

He doesn’t bother trying.

When Luna returns from her latest expedition a few months later, she moves into one of the spare bedrooms. Rolf—not her boyfriend or husband or anything else, he’s told—visits at times, but rarely for long. Luna seems pleased with the arrangement, like Rolf is someone who understands all of her, takes her just as she is and demanding nothing more.

Neville’s glad.

A few months after that, Ginny’s back to work after giving birth and recovering, and Harry is home with the baby. He comes by a few times a week. Harry claims it’s for his own sanity, but Neville still can’t help but feel like maybe he’s checking in on Neville, whose leave from the Aurors has stretched into its ninth month without any sign of ending. Rosier, at this point, has stopped asking.

It’s kind of weird to see Harry like this, baby bouncing on his lap, just as sure and capable as in a fight.

There’s been things in the papers, of course, Henpecked Potter Stuck Home on Nappy Duty, all about how Ginny has unmanned him. Or how disappointingly unambitious Harry has turned out to be, after showing so much early promise. Wiling his days away at home. As if they hadn’t spent the last decade terrified of him, of what he might try to do.

Morons, the lot of them.

Then again, most people have no idea how much Harry quietly continued to do for all of them behind the scenes, [redacted for spoilers!]

To most people Harry is aimless and dominated by his quite possibly evil wife.

Harry doesn’t seem to care less what people think.

It occurs to Neville that to most people Neville is the one who looks properly focused, but he’s really completely adrift, whereas Harry looks like he is exactly where he wants to be. It’s the same stupid feeling that’s always been there, that the two of them are somehow two sides of the same coin. Warped reflections of the other.

You know it could have been you, Harry once confessed to him during a late night together spent pouring over reports trying to run down a particularly nasty artifact. Just as easily as me.

But that is as inconceivable as ever, that Neville could in any way be anything like Harry.

Neville is in awe as always, that Harry could walk away from the ministry. Just like that. Just decide there is something else he wants, damn prophecies and expectations and gossip all the same.

When he mentions it, Harry just lifts his daughter up to his face, blowing a raspberry on her pudgy cheek. “There’s always more work to be done. And it will still be there when I get back. This little one won’t.”

Neville can't argue with that, even if he were inclined to.

Spending so much time at the manor, Neville inevitably finds himself in the garden. It’s not neglected, exactly. There are people paid to care for the perfectly manicured rows of shrubs and lawn and flowering perennials. To sweep the paths. Like the one he bounced down the first time he showed any inkling for magic, Great Uncle Archie’s cackle echoing behind him.

He’s never liked the garden, is the thing. Not that he’d ever been brave enough to even think it.

Gran gave him a corner in the large conservatory for his plants, and so long as he kept it contained there, she never said anything about his silly habit. It was enough. Or so he always told himself.

He’s thought about it, is the thing. Just selling the manor. Moving into a flat somewhere. Just leaving it all behind--the memories, the expectations. But it also feels like he’s been leaving too much behind as it is.

So on the one-year anniversary of Gran’s passing, a year since he tanked his career through cowardly attrition, he speaks out loud to the rigid rows and lifeless paths the truth festering in his heart: “I’ve never liked this garden.”

The next week, he asks the gardeners into the parlor and starts making a new plan.

#the changeling #armistice series #neville longbottom #hinny #hannah abbott

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popculturebuffet · 11 months

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Into the Spider-Verse: Spider-Ham (Marvel Tails #1 and Peter Porker, The Spectacular Spider-Ham #15) (Comissioned by WeirdKev15)

Hello all you happy webheads and welcome back to Into the Spider-Verse, my look at the origins of every webslinger from the landmark film in the build up to Across the Spider-Verse. And it's bittersweet to be this close to the end of the web here: i'm proud of myself for this project and kev for having cooked it up as it allowed me to really dig into my love of spider-man, and comics in general, with new ideas and even possible new retrospectives wholesale coming out of this.

But before we can end this ride, we still have one Spidey to cover, who after our previous spider-persons adventures with crackers and milk, their predecesors literal oppisite sex clone, mob goons without fear, rock n roll pop art halluciongens in your giant spider mecha, and giant spiders stripping you naked, one man comes along to say..

Yes it's time for the debut of Peter Porker, the Spectacular Spider-Ham a

And i'm sure many of you, both those familiar with the comics and those who just watched the movie, are asking the same question: why. The answer is simple. Way way back in the 1980's, Marvel had a new animated arm, Marvel Productions, which was a massive deal, producing both GI Joe and Transformers, which both started as comics first to promote the upcoming toylines, as well as Dungeons and Dragons, My LIttle Pony Tales, Muppet Babies, Jem and the Holograms, Kid N Play and the Biker Mice From Mars. There were also of course marvel cartoons like Spider-Man(the 80s one), Spider-Man and his Amazing Friends, The Incredible Hulk, the more popular Incredible Hulk and the infamous and destined to be covered Pryde of the X-Men Pilot.

So naturally Marvel wanted more ips to feed into the almighty merchandising machine, because shockingly, companies have ALWAYS wanted every dollar they can get out of making more and more adaptations as long s they can afford it. So two writers set to work to spitball this: They were Tom DeFalco, a longtime spider-man editor who would go on to write the guidebook I had as a kid that really got me into the comics and taught me a lot about his rogues gallery and more importantly would write the book himself briefly, being the one to crystalize Mary Jane's tragic Backstory and her knowing Peter Parker is spider-man all along. WIth him was the wonderful Larry Hama, at the time writing GI JOe for marvel.. and at the time of this writing STILL writing his continuation of that continuity for IDW as he should. Hama deserves all the credit for setting the foundations of the GI Joe universe most adaptations follows and for writing one hell of a comic in the process, and not one to rest on his laurels would later have the defining run on Wolverine's solo book.

So as you can imagine when these two legends get together.. they created a simple but enduringly weird joke that has lasted decades. It's a concept that just works: Spider-Man.. but he's a funny animal. Weirdly though Marvel Animation passed on it, not wanting anything to do with it despite the fact that in a time when Garfield was at the peak of his powers and they'd be making muppet babies, funny animals were a VERY easy sell. Seriously why Marvel Animation was so stupid is a riddle for the ages but Marvel liked printing money, so they put Porker in a one shot, Marvel Tails, parodying the marvel reprint mag marvel Tales. That said DeFalco didn't expect much from it and was suprised months later when the higher ups asked for another issue. He explained it was a one shot.. and then they asked when the next issue was and he got the memo. While DeFalco wrote the one shot that launched the character he freely admits he's not the one who made him a star. That honor goes to Steve Skeates. Skeates had been a mainstay in the industry, paticuarlly having a run on Aquaman i've been trying to read for some time that really launched the character to new heights before Superfriends would shove him back to the depths for a while. He was burnt out on the industry and freely admits he wouldn't of done the book for Larry Hama if it was any other book, but felt the format allowed him to do a throwback to the kinds of books he liked writing while still throwing in plenty of comedy to keep it fresh. The result was pretty great, with Skeates wisely having Porker's various foes not be the obvious joke of being the animals they resemble, for instance the Vulture being a possum in a buzzard suit instead of a vulture.

And we'll be seeing that contrast between Porker's humble one shot joke beginings and evolved more nuanced parody as unlike most of the characters featured... Porker didn't get his origin story for a while. While most of the spider-persons got there's in their very first appearance or arc, Porker's origin didn't come about till late in his solo books run. So today we'll be looking at both his first appearance in Marvel Tails, and his origin story in Peter Porker the Spectacular Spider-Ham #15 under the cut!

Spider-Ham begins his career in a typical spider-man setting: stopping a typical gang of thugs with ease and some quips. But it's not long before we get into one of the weird things about this story, something that just dosen't really work with it: Captain Americat. Cap is pictured here as Peter's steadfast partner and a reporter at his paper and none of this works. Now this is an AU, it COULD work and the idea of steve and peter being closer partners and steve mentoring him is great, just as the idea of Tony mentoring him was a brilliant one the movies captalized on. But here it's just treated as a normal thing without really being used for a joke that this is so unusual. A large part of this is something that's easy to forget as it hasn't been true about the character since the early 2000's. Spidey.. used to be a bit of a loner when it came to the rest of the Marvel Universe. Granted he was the kind of loaner who had an entire ongoing dedicated to him teaming up with other heroes and a tv show where he had two super college roomies he'd fight crime with, but when it came to consistant teamups his only real super friends were the fantastic four and in a few years Daredevil. Spider-Woman existed, but Jessica was largely her own thing by design, with only the name in common and wouldn't really become an ally or even friend of peter's till they were in the avengers together. Peter would have team ups but he really wasn't super close with the rest of the marvel universe. This changed in the early 2000's as his joining the new avengers gave him a lot of new allies in the marvel universe: He'd be on the new avengers until Brian Micheal Bendis left the book, he joined HIckman's avengers for the first arc, with Doc Ock taking his place, and joined the Mighty Avengers and Mark Waid's avengers afterwords, only in the last few years taking a break from the group entirely, ironically as his MCU counterpart became heavily associated with them himself. Not only that the dawn of the spider-verse and miles migrating to become the 616's second spider-man, meant peter soon had a spider-family.

Even now in his current tirefire of a solo i've been purposfully avoiding but suspect i'l lhave to confront some day, he has Ms Marvel, soon to be thrown in the fridge, Norman Osborn, long story, and his current girlfriend the black cat. Peter's no longer the solo operator he once was.. but back then it's very weird fo ra parody of the character to just.. casually hang out with Captain America regularly and this angle was wisely dropped.

This isn't the only weird thing in this issue either. For some reason rather than pulling from peter's many rogues, the issue has him face the Masked Marauder, some punk ripping off a super high tech arcade. It comes off more like a Scooby Doo Mystery complete with various red herings and the actual culprit showing up early on. He's not even the main threat as the everlovin hulk is also shoved into this issue. His origin is a little neat, with Bruce Bunny being an arcade game maker who gets shoved into a cabinet.

The result though just isn't that funny. Ther'es a good joke about steve stashing his shield in his coat

But otherwise i'ts just kinda.. there and didn't leave the best first impression back when I first read it. It's nicely drawn, but dosen't have much actually to say or any really satire of the character. It's clear they had the name but no idea what to do with it. THe backup is pretty funny though, the weird Goose Rider, take a while guess, who just.. spends it riding around, thinking about grabbing a burger, and dealing iwth shouty civlians and some random doofus called chainsaw. This satire.. actually works as from what I can tell Ghost Rider's early rogues gallery before his reinvention in the 90's wasn't all that impressive with few exceptions. It's more what I wanted. Thankfully when Peter got his title shot, things perked up and by the time we get to his origin... we get something delightful.

As you can tell both by the cover used for this review and from the title, this one's a parody of spider-man no more. Even if you haven't read the story (I've only read the iconic issue iwth the cover), you've doubtlessly seen it's cover, and the various homages to both that and the shot of peter throwing his costume in the trash and walking away, both by spider-heroes and the rest of the marvel. It helps that Sam Rami choose it as the backbone of Spider-Man 2 and ended up making an even BETTER version of the story in the process. Even Miles had his own version of it after his mom died and he blamed himself for it since the second ultimate venom was the reason she died. If you've read more recent comics and seen Rio alive and well that's because Miles befriended the Molocule Man, a very shy man with the power to control molocules... which shockingly for comics has been treated every bit as horrifyingly powerful as it should since his introduction, with MM's only real wekaness being his crippling neurosis. So when the universe died and was put back, Molocule brought her back as a thank you present. I had a point here.. ah yes.. I love the Molocule Man and feel he's a highly underated character. Oh that with the severe stress and sacrifice of being a spider-man, it's not a huge leap to have that moment of doubt. And it's an even shorter leap to take that moment and parody it and Peter's angst for all it's worth. We open with J Jonah Jackal hooking himself up to an idea machine while his three young wards, the junior newsboys watch. They are Jermiah Jackal, JJJ's snooty nephew, Bunson Bunny, our resident nerd who talks in big snetences and Upton Adam Stray, a combination of a black sterotype and

If your getting some deja vu from a rich magnate having three young sidekicks who both acompany him and try to steer away his worse instincts, one of whom is jonah's literal nephew.. GOOD. It means you have good taste and also get the bit. Spider-Ham has a bit of the old Scrooge McDuck stories in it's dna, simply adding spider-man and his rogues to the mix, and really JJJ is such a perfect fit for scrooge and Peter for Donald, that I can't blame both writers for dipping into this formula when it fits spider-man shockingly well now he's a pig.

This issue is written by steven Mellor, who took over the title later in his run, but like Skeates does a really fun job with it.

With Jonah having peter come to the clubhouse to view an idea he came up with that involves the kids

Peter deals with typical spider-man things. That is trying to get a date with his ex Betty Bat. It goes about usual for peter

Also as you might have noticed, hilariously, Peter Porker looks a LOT like John Mulaney, despite having been created only one year after John was born. I mean he's also a talking pig but the hair is distractingly like his future voice actors and I love it.

Baby P decides to handle this like a mature, rational young swine

Before bemoaning that he's still single.. what I like is that Mellor both really gets how Peter Parker Mopey Rants work, and milks it with everyone starring not sure what to do as peter ineternally rants and the janitor eventually asking him to leave as he's getting his tears on the floor. Peter then reflects back to his origin, the reason we're here. And even for a talking pig.. peter's origin is hilaroiusly bizzare. It's my kind of weird shenanigans. Okay so in this version Peter.. was a spider, which is clever enough.. but May was a mad scientest who befriended peter and showed him her new invention: a fission powered hairdryer. It made her radoactive, it wasn't good.. and well... I can't say what happens next and have most of you belivie it actually happened so here's photographic evdience.

This.. this is comedy gold, and clever as all hell. Just deciding to have may be radioactive nad bite peter. It's as nuts as it is brilliant and I love it. So we get the standard origin moments of Peter testing out his powers.. and we also get a nice gag out of him bending a pipe in the original amazing fantasy #15

Peter returns to find may basically the dodering old lady sterotype she was in earlier spider-man comics, and decides to look after her and not tell her the truth, as well as put his powers to use. Peter's genius in this version is also from the bite and thus Spider-Ham is born

After running into flash thompsons counterpart, who sadly isn't named flash beagle, we get jonah's meeting where he's dressed himself and the boys up in superhero outfits and ...

To become Black Beagle and his beagle brigadeers. Peter is dragged along for this and this.. is easily the weakest part of the issue. While the idea of Jonah becoming a hero himself is great and has been used well, here it's just kinda there and is mostly a setup for them to befriend "Andy Warthog" and see a bunch of celebrity pastiches. It's a boring page or two

Thankfully it picks up with a delightful parody of one of my faviorite spider-man rogue as the Hobgobbler crashes the party! God bless this pun. He kidnaps one of the celebrties and we get a ncie character moment. Despite how silly this character and his origin are... it's still neat to see the core of spider-man.. is still present.

No matter the universe, no matter who wears the mask... they can't turn down responsiblity. Try as he might.. Peter just can't let someone else get hurt if he can help it and that's what makes spider-man the hero we love so much: that drive to help people no matter what it takes. It's what makes a spider-person what they are wethere they be man, woman, ham or nb.

So Peter naturally wins, in a nicely drawn fight, cooks the turkey and drive sJonah home. He WANTS to just get some deserved sleep but Aunt May has other plans.. thankfully said plans give our hero his much deserved happy ending. Action is already his reward.

As you can probably figure, this issue is a massive improvment and it's clear even with two diffrent writers, the full ongoing got the concept better and more importantly had more fun with it. The result.. is fucking great. Also the puns. Dear lord the puns. And that's not getting into the backup which has the scavengers fight kangaroo the conquerer. Who damn well better be among the council of kangs. At any rate this issue was greatr and even with the brief slowdown, is a great issue, not only getting me reintrested in this run, but also showing off just what you can do with a parody: have it be both heartfelt and clearly get what it's making fun of while still being great.

Next Time: The web ends as we look at the movie itself. Anyone can wear the mask but is one Miles Morales up to the task? Can he fill peter's shoes? Well yeah, I mean there's even a sequel, but it's still one hell of a ride.

#spider-man #peter porker #spider-ham #mary jane waterbuffalo #john mulaney #into the spider-verse #across the spider-verse

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x-infernhoes-x · 5 months

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•☽─────⋅☾⋆⋅ ﾟ⛆˖°˖🌪˖°˖ ﾟ⛆ ⋅⋆☽⋅─────☾•

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𝕁𝕁𝔹𝔸𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕒 ℙ𝕣𝕠𝕗𝕚𝕝𝕖- 𝕍𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕠 𝔸𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕠˖°˖🌪˖°˖ •☽─────⋅☾⋆⋅ ﾟ⛆˖°˖🌪˖°˖ ﾟ⛆ ⋅⋆☽⋅─────☾•

Updated as of 12/15/2023

Created on 12/13/2023

Hi! so this is just an update of sorts for my old JJBAsona bio that has something to do with my self shipping considering that I've been dragged into the Jojo fandom again HVFSHJABF HJ

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˖°˖🌪˖°˖𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕝 ℙ𝕣𝕠𝕗𝕚𝕝𝕖˖°˖🌪˖°˖

•☽─────⋅☾⋆⋅ ﾟ⛆˖°˖🌪˖°˖ ﾟ⛆ ⋅⋆☽⋅─────☾•

❝𝕆𝕙, 𝕨𝕙𝕠 𝕚𝕤 𝕤𝕙𝕖?❞ - I Monster, Who is She?

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Codename: Paella Visconti

↳ Namesake: Paella: A Spanish rice dish from the Valencian Community.

Luchino Visconti: Italian filmmaker, theatre and opera director, and screenwriter

Birthname: Eunice Flores

Nickname(s): Elvis (by Mista and Formaggio), En, tigrotta mia (by Risotto Nero, Abbacchio, and Bucciarati)

Age: Depending on the verse but the main verse has her as 24 years old

Birthday: February 8th, 19██

Zodiac Sign: Aquarius

Chinese Zodiac: Tiger

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Height: 5 ft 3 in / 160 cm

Weight: 100 lbs / 45 kg

Blood Type: O

Birthplace: ████ ██ ██████,Metro Manila, Philippines

Eye Color: Dark Brown/Black

Occupation: Assassin (current), University Student (formerly), Personal Bodyguard of Italy's pop sensation, Trish Una (Formerly), Bruno Bucciarati's personal assistant (formerly)

Ethnicity: Filipino

Nationality: Filipino-Italian (through marriage of connivence)

Organization: Passione

Backstory: Born and raised in somewhere in Metro Manila, Philippines, En or more commonly known by the undercover name she had once she had joined Passione as Paella Visconti (often shortened to Ella or Elvis as Mista and Formaggio would call her), she had a relatively normal and quiet life in her hometown where she was raised by her father’s parents inside the walls of the very same home her father and his siblings had grown up on. But En knew she was destined for a life that was just more than normal. A natural born stand user, En was initially unaware of her abilities as a stand user and has been subconsciously using its abilities from the start, En’s stand managed to manifest itself physically at the age of 16, triggered by her intense emotions during her days as a junior high student. She also happens to be a close friend and ally of Josuke Higashikata whom she met online at age 14.

She first appears after the events of Golden Wind and Purple Haze Feedback, she subsequently crosses paths with the one and only Bruno Bucciarati himself at the age of 21 during a trip to Singapore and ends up working for him as the Capo’s personal assistant before getting assigned as the personal bodyguard for Italy’s pop-sensation singer, Trish Una along side with Narancia Ghirga, Guido Mista, and Shiela E.

Now a bonafide member of Passione, En is assigned by Don Giorno himself to the newly reinstated La Squadra Esecuzioni, En currently lives in Naples, Italy, with her boyfriend of 3 years, Pannacotta Fugo along with their cats and their roommate, Guido Mista.

(Relationship lore of Fugo and En can be found here!)

•☽─────⋅☾⋆⋅ ﾟ⛆˖°˖🌪˖°˖ ﾟ⛆ ⋅⋆☽⋅─────☾•

˖°˖🌪˖°˖𝕃𝕚𝕜𝕖𝕤, 𝔻𝕚𝕤𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖𝕤, 𝔽𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔽𝕝𝕒𝕨𝕤

𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕖𝕥𝕔.˖°˖🌪˖°˖

•☽─────⋅☾⋆⋅ ﾟ⛆˖°˖🌪˖°˖ ﾟ⛆ ⋅⋆☽⋅─────☾•

❝𝕀 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕓𝕖 𝕕𝕖𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕕 𝕓𝕪 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕀 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖. ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕀 𝕙𝕒𝕥𝕖, 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕀'𝕞 𝕒𝕗𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕕 𝕠𝕗. ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕙𝕒𝕦𝕟𝕥 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕕𝕕𝕝𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥, 𝕀 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖.❞

- Taylor Swift, Daylight

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Favorite Color(s): Dark colours and certain pastels, anything that doesn't look like an eye sore or gross

Favorite Flower(s): peonies, lavender, garden roses, forget-me-not, and blue hydrangeas

Favorite Movie(s): Stay Alive (2006), Moulin Rouge (2001), Mamma Mia! (2008), Mulan (1998), Les Miserables (2012)

TV Show(s): Revolutionary Girl Utena, Digimon, again too many to count

Favorite Food(s): Kare-Kare, Tteok-Bokki, Pizza, Cheeseburgers, Fries, Pasta, usually depends on what she hyperfixates on

Hobbies: Reading novels that fall under young adult, greek mythology related, fantasy, or even classics, cooking, singing, dancing as a form of leisure exercise (though not very good at freestyle), video gaming, art, doing runs, listening to music, reading and learning.

Musician(s): Too many to count or list but is found mostly listening to her top five artists: Hozier, Florence and the Machine, Mitski, Taylor Swift, and Fleetwood Mac, occasionally listens to David Bowie and Kate Bush.

Likes: Cats, books, memes, video games, puzzles, her family, coffee, pickles, trail mix, astronomy and astrology, anything witchcraft related, visiting historical sites, learning, swimming, the beach, stormy weather, learning about flower languages and plants, listening to podcasts that are mainly true crime or character/media analyses, psychology related stuff, cinnamon, people who ask nicely and talk without malice or anger.

Dislikes: Fried Chicken that has too much oil in it or repeatedly being served, being seen as her being like parents/her father, the weather being way too hot, creeps, misplacing or losing her items, people who chew loudly, sewer rats, stepping on things with her bare feet, basically anything gross, certain conspiracy theories, people lying and those who deceive her, any type of abuse, harassment or violations against someone’s consent, animal abuse, cucumbers, going to the sea/beach without slippers, sand getting into places that shouldn't be in, physical touch from people who she aren't close with without warning, people who don't ask nicely or yell, patriarchy, weird textures.

Fears: Being seen as someone who is a burden to people, being seen less as a person and discriminated due to her learning disability which is ADHD, failing or becoming a disappointment, being seen as a terrible person, being betrayed, losing her loved ones, becoming like her father, the apocalypse, certain carnivorous reptiles such as snakes, heights, and certain images of saints aka 'Santo'.

Flaws: En, while highly self-aware that she can overthink, has this certain tendency to keep her thoughts to herself and bottling it up due to her upbringing and her fear of being a burden to people. Though while this is mainly solved and is making progress of keeping in touch with people she cares and trusts enough, the habit is still there. She also has the habit of apologizing when there's no need to and also thinking that she's invincible but not to the point of tomfoolery especially when it comes to dangerous or high-risk situations but rather, this manifests as mostly in completely mundane things such as her sleeping and eating habits. She also has this internalized vindictiveness to her that sometimes shows itself from time to time but this is regulated.

She also has this habit of offering sage advice to people but never follows her own advice, thus calling herself as a 'walking contradiction' due to this, she also developed this habit of taking care of others, making sure their needs are well met and forgets about her own, sometimes her 'mother hen' like habits can be smothering but manages to keep it on the low. Despite of her flaws, she is currently working through these issues to the best of her abilities.

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˖°˖🌪˖°˖𝔽𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕪 𝕀𝕟𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟˖°˖🌪˖°˖

•☽─────⋅☾⋆⋅ ﾟ⛆˖°˖🌪˖°˖ ﾟ⛆ ⋅⋆☽⋅─────☾•

❝ℍ𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕀'𝕞 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕪𝕠𝕦.❞ -Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, Home

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While it is common knowledge amongst her peers that En comes from a big middle class family back in the Philippines, she doesn't really mention any of them by name, considering her position as a hitman and a member of Passione. The info below is taken directly from her file from Passione as per requested by the Speedwagon Foundation to add to their database and associates. It seems that most of it is blacked out as it follows:

ＫＮＯＷＮＲＥＬＡＴＩＶＥＳ: Father: █████ ███████ Flores Age: [REDACTED] Status: Alive Stand User: No Mother: ███████ ████████ Age: [REDACTED] Status: Alive Stand User: No Grandmother: ████ Flores Age: [REDACTED] Status: Alive Stand User: No Notes from the Researchers: has been suspected as a Ripple User as is the rest of the subject's family from the 'Flores' side. This is also suspected with Subject 13 herself considering that one of her stand's abilities happens to be healing through the means of breathing. -Subject 13, aka Eunice ███████ Flores, first born daughter of █████ ███████ Flores (second son of ████ Flores and the late ███████ Flores) and ███████ ████████, has been raised by the matriarch and former patriarch of the Flores family since she was born. Medical records state that the Subject was born prematurely and was raised by the new grandparents. Our researchers have also noted that Subject 13 happens to be the only known natural born stand user amongst her family members, and by extension, her 12 cousins. Subject 13 happens to have at least four known siblings, but the whereabouts or status of the fourth sibling happen to be unknown.

•☽─────⋅☾⋆⋅ ﾟ⛆˖°˖🌪˖°˖ ﾟ⛆ ⋅⋆☽⋅─────☾•

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𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕀𝕟𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟

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❝𝕄𝕪 𝕝𝕚𝕗𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕒 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕞, 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕀 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕓𝕠𝕣𝕟, 𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕀 𝕗𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕒𝕟𝕪 𝕙𝕦𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕖?❞ - Hozier, Francesca

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Stand Name: Heroes

Stand Namesake: Heroes (David Bowie Album & Song)

Ability Types: Close-Range/Long-Range, Semi-Sentient

Form Type: Natural Humanoid Stand

Stats:

History: Heroes is a close-range/long-range natural humanoid stand of En Flores who possesses a range of abilities focused on air/weather related abilities. Though she’s been with the user from the beginning, Heroes makes her first physical appearance to a young En at the age of 16 after the latter had experience a bout of strong emotions, most particularly emotional distress over something that happened during En’s time as a Junior High student (which, funnily enough, happens to be En stressing over her History test) and has been with her ever since.

Personality: Noted by some of En's friends and enemies alike, Heroes, while seemingly looking like as if she has no innate personality due to her stoic disposition, has shown bouts of intense protectiveness over her user, En and by extension, those who En holds dear to her heart, mirroring the user's mother bear habits. While it's not very obvious to some, Heroes seems to sometimes have a separate consciousness from her user and has been noted to have mannerisms similar to that of a curious owl or a playful and mischievous feline at times.

In battle, she remains as composed as she is in general, barely showing any emotion unless En herself feels a strong bout of them, which Heroes would mirror. Another thing that not most people know much about is that Heroes can speak for herself but instead of a normal voice, those who aren't close with En get to hear the sound of every storm, howling winds, and blizzards and a banshee's* *combined but En understands her perfectly. However when a connection is formed, Heroes' voice becomes crystal clear, speaking in a voice that's similar to her user's but much more ethereal, airy and echoey with the hints of the previous sounds and her way of speaking is mentioned to be very polite and smart.

Physical Description: Heroes is a humanoid Stand of a feminine figure, resembling its user in some of its proportions. Often characterized by its free flowing golden locks tipped with silver, blue winged helmet-like mask with the Christian cross in the middle, obscuring its eyes and the upper half of its face, and pale silver skin and the motif that its sporting being a notable mix of a valkyrie, a ballerina, and Elizibethan fashion judging from its collar and overskirt.

The lower part of its face has these distinctive markings of two vertical lines across its eyes and a half circle under its lower lip which are painted gold.

Heroes wears a body suit of gold and blue with two elongated hexagonal shapes at the sides of its hips, a tear drop shape opening right over where its belly button should be, and multiple lines sewn onto it finished by the feathered blue Medici styled collar and overskirt detailed with thin, golden tendrils of pure lightning; it also wears knee-high boots where the kneepads baring some sort of resemblance to the frangipani flower, african violets, strawberry blossoms, and marsh marigolds with the stem pointed out as a blade in the middle of a ribbon spiral finished off with two-tiered pauldrons resting on its shoulders.

Abilities: Heroes is a highly versatile stand possessing the ability to control the weather. Though Heroes’ ability may be near similar to Weather Report’s, it’s not the same. Unlike Weather Report, Heroes can manipulate certain elements such as thunder and lighting and be able to create weapons out from the elements that they can control. One of Heroes’ featured abilities are giving its user the ability to fly and glide in the air, breath healing, controlling the atmosphere and the weather, aerokinetic invisibility, air attacks, and weather weaponry. It can also have control over any form of precipitation and storms and grant the user a banshee-like physiology.

Its range when creating large-scale storms is based on the location where the user is currently situated. The most notable example is that if Heroes and En found themselves in a city such as Venice, Italy, that would mean the entirety of Venice would be affected, and where both the stand and user are will serve as the main landfall zone where the storms are particularly worse than the rest of the location.

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Okay so hi! First off the pic came from here and that I just edited it on my computer considering I haven't been able to draw anything as of late :"DD which would also explain why the picture I have for my sona lacks glasses ;u;

As for the timelines, there are at least two known variations of it! The main verse, which I will be calling as strawberries and cigarettes, and a secondary verse called which will be called as fulmine dorato [eng. golden lightning]!

So basically, in the strawberries and cigarettes verse, the events of Golden Wind + Purple Haze Feedback take place in the year 2015 as opposed to 2001. It also means that the events of DIU happened at less than a year before the events of Golden Wind basically making Josuke, En, and Fugo be the same age. Also this is a verse which basically reverses the deaths of Leone, Narancia, Bruno, and La Squadra but they all carry some form of scarring from the nature of their deaths and whatnot. I got inspired by theclockworkkid on ig and this one fic I read way back in 2020 something and it just stuck on me.

For the fulmine dorato verse, its basically the canon version of golden wind/purple haze feedback (no one dies in La Squadra and Bucci Gang bc I am a sucker and I want them to have happy endings HBVFHJASFB) and that En has been around Passione since she was 15 and was originally a part of La Squadra before being put under the custody of Bruno Bucciarati's team due to 'mysterious circumstances as of late' (basically, La Squadra protecting their youngest bc they're about to betray the boss after Sorbet and Gelato's deaths, only to find out that En would go down the same path as they did aka betraying the boss insert spiderman pointing meme here)

so yeah! Which leads into the tag of 🍓🌦children of the revolution//fugoen children🌦🍓that can be seen on my blog and the family's introduction which can be read here!

#en speaks #en's confessions #jjba #f/o stuff #self shipping #🍓strawberries and cigarettes fugo and en🍓#jjba sona lore #jjba sona #vento aureo #golden wind

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