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#Superhero G/t
belethlegwen · 27 days
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The Scars We Leave Behind
Written by: @adjacentperception and @belethlegwen
What's left of a hero when everything is taken from him? What's left of a villain with no identity?
What's left of a man who has no choice but to save the symbol of a system he's fighting against?
Within a city constantly besieged by a super-power fueled war between Good vs Evil, a hero is captured by powerful villain and their secret organization and forced to play part in a twisting and enigmatic plan; to tear down the systems in place that keep the League of Heroes in an ultimate seat of power to rival the government itself. But… is the system as good as it projects itself to be? Are the villains and their henchmen really as evil as the media says? Is it truly as simple as tearing it down, or does that simply open up space for a new, worse system to enter?
Is the harm we do when we believe we're helping mitigated merely by our wishes to be better? To create something more? To fix what we believe is broken?
Do we hold blame for creating the evil we think we're fighting against, regardless of our intentions?
This work features descriptions of violence, abuse, neglect, and uses adult language, as well as mentions of nudity and sexual topics.
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azuldoodles · 5 months
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I added some colors
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entomolog-t · 9 months
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I love stupid superhero G/t scenarios so much cause it just adds so much variety to the typical dynamic.
Like character A has the power to control their weight/density and is just an absolute tank and very much likes it.
Character B is a sizeshifter and is also an absolute tank. They also really like being "the tank."
They can't stand one another. Absolute rivals despite having the same friend group. They're always trying to assert some kind of dominance over the other. Like A will make themselves incredibly dense so B can't pick them up (which to any bystanders is downright hilarious). B, who in reality is short than A, will continously grow just a bit taller than them in everyday setting, or downright loom over them at their larger size if given the opportunity.
Like the comedy potential for the tiny to just be able to pin down the giant ?? Amazing.
Or imagine A is more freaked out by the size than they've been letting on; Some sort of danger happens and A is left unable to walk and they need to get away fast. Maybe an explosion is imminent, maybe a building is about to collapse, either way they need to move fast. B goes to pick them up but they make themselves heavier, refusing to move.
"Nows not the time A- we need to move -" B freezes. A was crying. They've never seen A cry. Just how hurt were they?
B feels guilt well up. Did A not trust them that much? Sure they fought, but they had to know they would never actually hurt them...
"A, please, we have to leave. I'll be careful, I promise. I've done this with civilians hundr-"
"-Please..." A's normally confident voice is nothing short of a whimper. Their eyes squeezed tight, refusing to look at B. "I'll make myself light, just... please don't pick me up like that."
What??
What was that supposed to mean? What difference did it make?? With no time to argue B shrinks down and picks them up. They've never felt A lighten themselves and it's a jarring feeling picking someone up at their normal size with them weighing next to nothing. There was time to dwell on how bizzare this was becoming.
B ran, awkwardly caring the oversized yet underweight body of A as they raced to clear the area. So what if they added a few extra inches to themselves between strides? They needed to get out of here fast and time was running out.
They wouldn't make it. Not at this height.
There was no time to argue.
"A," Their voice is gentle but firm, leaving no room for debate, "Close your eyes."
They've delt with this before. Children afraid of them, victims of Kaiju attacks. Size could be scary to some... they just never imagined A would be amoung them.
They feel A press their face against their shirt, hands balled into fists. They cover A with their hand, shielding them from the sight of the world lurching as they grow.
ANGST ANGST ANGST ANGST
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can we get more Dean and Jamie?
Here is an cookie if you do.
Cookie :) 🍪
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zaps u
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Pocket-Sized Sidekick (3)
Part One Part Two
Word Count: 1,829
TW's: Fear, Accidental Fearplay, Violence, Injury, Implications Of Past Abuse, Threats Of Violence, Mentions of Cults, Medical Stuff, Panic
Characters: C!Ranboo, C!Technoblade, C!Dream, C!Philza, C!Wilbur
Summary: Ranboo's officially been de-masked in front of a group of villains. At least that means things can't get any worse...right?
Ranboo drew in a hissing breath between his teeth.
"Would you please sit still? I'm not used to doing stitches on people this small."
That was one of the first things Ranboo learned about Wilbur. He never held anything back. Frankly, it was becoming a challenge for Ranboo to hold back everything he wanted to say in retaliation. He'd been laying there getting stabbed by a needle nearly as tall as him for at least half an hour. Even with the attempt at numbing the area, it felt like an eternity.
"You did stitches on a cat once," the Blood God pointed out. He'd been idly clicking through something on the laptop sitting on the kitchen counter. Ranboo was surprised he'd been paying attention at all given how engrossed he'd seemed it whatever he was reading on that screen.
"You are aware that cats are larger than six inches tall, right?" Wilbur snapped.
"Small is small."
The brunette let out a frustrated huff.
"Phil told you not to bother me."
"He did but he was givin' me those 'don't let Wilbur out of your sight' eyes."
"He was not."
"You just don't notice because he's always got that look."
"Done!" Wilbur announced with a final snip. Ranboo could only assume that meant that was the last bit of thread being cut. Should he be thanking this guy for what he'd done? Sure, he'd tended to his injuries but he was still a villain. Thanking a villain was probably listed on the unspoken rules of being a hero right between being kidnapped by a villain and showing your face to a villain.
He slowly pushed himself to sit upright. His bruises still stung like crazy but at least the majority of his fractures had been dealt with and cuts bandaged. Wilbur never really shared his assessment of Ranboo's injuries but from the repetitive "Yeesh" 's from the villain, he could only imagine there was a lot of work to be done.
Wilbur scooped his jacket up off the back of the couch.
"Where are you going?" the Blood God demanded.
The brunette threw a guitar case over his shoulder.
"Out," he announced vaguely.
"Aren't you supposed to be looking after the kid?"
Wilbur rummaged through the cubbies next to the door until he uncovered a pair of keys from the clutter.
"Phil told me to clean him up. He's about as good as he's going to get so I'm out of here." Wilbur paused on the way out to shoot the Blood God a look over his shoulder. A coy smile tugged on his lips. "Don't worry, I'm sure you'll be fine until Phil comes back. You're great with kids."
Wilbur managed to yank the door shut behind him just as a dagger lodged itself in the wood where his head was only seconds ago. The brunette's laughter retreated into the night, making way for a tense silence to fall over the house. Ranboo's teeth ground together.
He dared to sneak a peek at the villain sitting only a single room over. It was odd. Ranboo knew that Corvus was a supervillain but he walked around out of costume in his own house. That made sense. Wilbur was a villain by association at the very least but if he worked in the field, he probably had a costume too. Not once had he donned in it while Ranboo was there.
The Blood God, on the other hand, had yet to change out of that signature uniform of his. The cape, the skull, the gaudy boots. The whole package was admittedly a bit too extra to be typical loungewear. If it was all for the sake of ensuring Ranboo was kept on edge then, damn, it was working.
The boar's skull snapped in Ranboo's direction. The abrupt motion caused an instinctual reaction in the sidekick, sending him scrambling to focus on literally anything else in the room. The villain sighed.
"So why's Hero Corps exploiting child labor? Indoctrinating adults into their little cape cult get too pricey?" he asked.
Nothing about that question was accurate but it wasn't like Ranboo was in any position to correct him. He wasn't sure he was in a position to say anything, honestly. So he didn't.
"What, did that one hypno-hero hit you with a tongue tying spell or somethin'? What's he like? Fun at parties?"
The beats of silence passed at an agonizingly slow pace for both parties trapped within the tense atmosphere. The Blood God groaned.
"Come on, kid, give me somethin' here," he practically begged.
Ranboo shifted uncomfortably. There was nothing he could say that he wouldn't be reprimanded for when he got back to HQ. If he got back to HQ. As scary a prospect as that was, the fact that he was more likely to never get home was even scarier.
"W-why the skull mask?" Ranboo tried. Maybe if he couldn't answer questions, asking them would help pass the time a bit quicker for the both of them.
"What, this?" The Blood God asked, drumming his fingernails against hollow bone. Ranboo nodded meekly. The villain's insouciant demeanor went dismal all at once. "It's not a mask. It's just my face."
The sidekick's blood ran ice cold. He couldn't even hide his mortified expression when he turned back to the man in the kitchen. What? How was that even possible? Sure, people got bizarre mutations when super powers started popping up but this had to be one of the strangest ones that Ranboo had ever seen. Not even the attributes of a bore, just its skull where your head should have been? It made his stomach churn thinking about how that worked.
The Blood God snorted.
"I'm messing with you," he chuckled.
He was...oh. The sidekick's shoulders sagged. As indignant as Ranboo was to be toyed with, he had to admit that it was a relief knowing it was all a farce. He hadn't even realized his jaw had dropped open until he shut it with a click. He couldn't help but laugh, though his was more incredulous than a product of the Blood God's sense of humor-if you could even call it that.
"Just thought it was a cool gimmick, I guess. Didn't wanna look like every other loser in a mask and a cape. What about you? They force you to wear that fashion faux-pax of a suit or are you just really into gray?"
"It's a uniform," Ranboo said. He couldn't think of a single sinister thing that the guy could do with that sort of information beyond mocking him a little further.
"Of course it is. Is that where you get your shrinking power from, too?"
Ranboo stiffened. Momentary distraction over. The villain really was just trying to pry info out of him. Of course he was. That was literally his job. He wasn't really as mad at the guy for nearly getting him to give up some top secret Hero Corps info as much as he was at himself for almost doing it.
The way the color drained from Ranboo's face must have given away the answer to that intrusive question all the same.
"Don't mean to sound like a jackass but you don't really handle yourself like a hero who's used to being small. I mean, I did see you get punted across an alleyway so..."
Ranboo fought to keep his expression flat. Maybe that was the reason all those heroes wore masks; to hide just how scared the poor bastards behind them were. Ranboo wished more than anything that his helmet wasn't cracked to pieces so he could shove it back on and leave it there.
"If it's broken, we can try to fix it," the Blood God pointed out.
"No! You can't touch it!" Ranboo blurted, grabbing the suit from beside him and holding it in a white-knuckled grip. The last thing he needed was to hand over some of Hero Corps' most advanced tech to their most dangerous competition.
It took far too long for Ranboo to actually realize what he'd done. When it dawned on him, it hit him like a brick to the teeth. His heart stuttered in his chest. Maybe yelling at his villainous captor wasn't really the smartest idea. He knew what happened when he raised his voice. One of the first lessons he'd learned under Dream's guidance. And that was when he was a fairly normal height.
Standing only a few inches tall in front of someone with far worse intentions than his mentor's, he didn't stand a chance of making it out alive.
"Geez, alright. I was just offerin'," the villain muttered. "Figured this whole thing might be a little easier if you weren't six inches tall."
Sure, like Ranboo was going to believe that this guy had nothing but good intentions towards the hero's sidekick he had in his possession. Then again, he wasn't wrong about his height putting him at a stark disadvantage. At six inches tall, the Blood God could probably just pry the suit out of his hands. As a matter of fact, Ranboo couldn't wrap his head around why he had yet to try.
"Hey, are you-"
Vvv Vvv
Saved by the buzz. Whatever question the Blood God was about to ask was swiftly interrupted by the vibration against the counter. He grabbed his phone. He went tense when he saw the screen. Without a word, he rose to his feet and slid the window behind him open.
He double checked the laces on his boots and the sword sheathed on his hip. Ranboo flinched at the squawk from just beyond the house. Wings beat at the air, a crow dipping in straight through the open window to land on the counter.
"Lead the way," the Blood God instructed.
The black bird tilted its head, turning over its shoulder to stare straight at Ranboo. A chill crawled up his spine at the extra attention.
"Oh, right. You-uh-you stay here," the villain commanded with all the conviction of a man who'd never held a leadership position. "I gotta go help Phil but I'll be back real soon."
Ranboo could only nod in reply. The villain dawdled. He stared at Ranboo a while longer, the sidekick doing his best not to meet the supervillain's sweeping gaze.
"'kay. Let's go," he tried again. The bird let out an ear-shattering squawk before claiming its perch atop the Blood God's shoulder. He slid out the door, ensuring that he clicked the lock into place on his way out.
The hero-in-training swallowed thickly. The silence was even more deafening than before. This certainly wasn't on his bucket list. He was all alone in a supervillain's hideout.
His eyes darted about the vacant space, snagging on the window over the sink. Wait. He was all alone in a supervillain's hideout. The curtains waved in the breeze, beckoning him forward. He'd be a fool not to answer that call.
~
College is kicking my butt so upload schedule is insanely chaotic but thank you to everyone who waited for this next part! :)
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giantteatiny · 1 year
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ive been Stewing on the idea of borrower superheroes for a while now
- borrower heroes who have superstrength by borrower standards aka about as strong as the average human 10 year old
- borrower heroes who have superstrength even by human standards
- borrowers who can fly but dont do it much because like its Dangerous Out There
plus the different Attitudes:
- borrower heroes who dont like humans and wont hesitate to fuck with them to protect other borrowers
- borrower heroes who try to help humans and borrowers equally
- borrower heroes who actively try and help humans as a way of giving back for the stuff they take
i just have them on my mind ok
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kaijunoriot · 11 months
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When chaos arises, the mighty Zenith will always be there to save the day!!
[OC: Zenith (Jolene)]
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sophiegoose · 10 months
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Sizeshifter!Miguel Character Notes
Making good on my promise to post some of my Spiderverse G/t stuff in the tag, here's the first bit of stuff I'll be sharing: some character/lore notes for my Sizeshifter!Miguel.
This is the concept I've workshopped the least out of all my Spiderverse G/t so far, so for now it's basically a collection of character notes instead of a full profile/storyline as of yet, but I hope it's still a fun read. Enjoy, my fellow size difference enjoyers.
Name: Miguel O'Hara ("Teyo" or "Tabor" at work)
Age: 31
Height: variable, hovers somewhere between 5 feet and 7 feet tall, usually
-Comes from a universe where Miguel got sizeshifting powers instead of spider powers
-Was a physicist instead of a geneticist
-An experiment went haywire, resulting in him getting catapulted out of his multiverse and through several others, resulting in the laws of physics not quite working right for him again when he returned to his home dimension
-He'd been massively quantum-displaced, gaining the power to mass shift whilst ignoring the square-cube law, able to grow and shrink in size without limit without biological consequence
-Unfortunately, his accident did not give him CONSCIOUS control of his powers, them instead being controlled unconsciously, fluctuating alongside his emotional and mental state
-Particularly stimulating emotions like anger, fear, panic, or happiness cause him to grow, while sedating emotions such as sadness, despair, and exhaustion cause him to shrink
-Given his highly stressful work life and deep-rooted depression, Miguel had to quickly come up with a solution to control his powers and prevent them from hurting himself or others
-Working alongside his universe's Lyla, he was able to craft a wearable device to help keep his powers in-check
-It appears to be thick black steel choker necklace, but is actually a highly complex device: it has an on-board heart rate monitor, direct hook-ups to Miguel's nervous system, and microneedles for injecting substances to keep him regulated
-When his heart rate or mental state dip too low, the device injects a small dose of modified (non-addictive) Rapture to bring him back to baseline, and when his heart rate increases too much or his mental state starts to get too stimulated, it injects him with a small dose of tranquilizer
-While it works quite well for him, the fact that he has to wear the device and be drugged at all times just to keep his powers vaguely under control doesn't do great things for his mental health. He often refers to the device derisively as his "collar," and is not fond of people pointing it out
-His collar regularly needs to be refilled with drugs and repaired, and these times when it's off/not at full functioning strength are extremely stressful to him, usually manifesting in many small, rapid fluctuations in height, which sometimes comes with nausea
-In general, he views his powers as a curse, and is always looking for new technology to help him better control them
-Works at Spider Society HQ as a engineer and repair man, often working alongside regular Miguel on tech projects and building maintenance
-He was recruited to the Spider Society by accident: his quantum shift resulted in him being mistaken for a Miguel in a nearby dimension to his who had spider powers, but with regular Miguel's permission he joined the Spider Society anyway and helps out around HQ. He also (very rarely) goes on missions, mostly when his specific skillset is needed
-He joined the Spider Society due to believing in regular Miguel's rhetoric about canon events and stabilizing the multiverse...but also out of curiosity towards other timespace-displaced individuals, as well as wanting to snoop on Earth-928's technology to look for further means of controlling his powers
-This Miguel is much lankier and not nearly as jacked as regular Miguel, and has longer, curlier hair. He sometimes pulls his hair back into a short ponytail, and he has ice-blue, almost silver eyes.
-Wears circular, orange-tinted glasses, not for his eyesight but for light-blocking purposes, since he's staring at holoscreens all day at work. The lenses are also specially-treated to act as eye protection when he's welding
-Generally wears casual clothes. Can usually been seen in baggy cargo pants and a slightly-oversized long-sleeve grey shirt, both of which are usually smeared in stains from oil and rust and full of small cuts and holes from getting caught on machinery. Occasionally wears a somewhat oversized, futuristic-looking grey coat, which seems to be a favorite of his
-Goes by a nickname (usually Teyo or Tabor) when he's at HQ to prevent him being mixed up with regular Miguel, since they have very similar voices and personalities and work on similar projects
-Does NOT like being compared to his alternate, as he finds him abrasive and thinks he's too full of himself. The feeling is mutual
-It's not uncommon to hear the two of them arguing as they work on the same piece of broken machinery, yelling over eacother in technobabble, trying to prove the other one wrong...thankfully, the work still gets done
-He's usually very reserved, not letting much emotion or opinion bleed through when he speaks, trying to regulate himself emotionally as much as he can...but push him too much and you'll quickly find out that he has the same sassiness that normal Miguel has, and isn't afraid unleash his some very cutting insults when given the chance
-On the other hand, he also has a much softer side that he rarely shows
-While definitely not an active superhero, Miguel has used his powers on occasion in his home dimension to help people. He has a disguise he wears when doing so that hides his face, keeping his identity a secret
-Over time, he's slowly gained some control over his powers. He can maintain certain heights and slow his size shifts with focus and lack of outside stimuli, which he'll occasionally use at work (shrinking to reach a particularly difficult circuit that needs a repair, growing to move or shift something big or heavy, etc.), but doing so is very physically and mentally taxing and can leave him burnt out afterwards
-That being said, he's very sheepish about his powers and tries not to use them in the presence of others often, partially because he's concerned he'll hurt someone, and partially because he's embarrassed that he has so little control over his powers compared to all the other people around HQ. Everyone else seems to have this superhero business figured out but him, and that fact gets to him a bit
-Knows Spanish, English, and Hebrew, with English as his third language. Sometimes struggles to fully express what he wants to say in English, can get a bit wordy/often comes off as overly formal. MUCH less so in his other two languages
-Has some sensory issues, mostly revolving around texture and touch. Enjoys fluffy and soft textures, and as such his office and his home are full of soft, squishy, and fluffy things for him to hold and rest against
-Catch him turning his collar off after a long, crappy day at work and shrinking down to flop on top of a particularly soft plushie in the big pile of them he has in his room
-Alternatively, big, annoyed Miguel shoving his head down onto his bed and pile of plushies and screaming into it like it's one big pillow as he fills the room
-Has a fondness for techno and trance music, often blasting it loudly when he's working on something to help him focus. Follow what sounds like a rave happening at HQ and you'll probably find him working on something, somewhere
-It's unknown what the current status of his family is. No one is sure whether he has a daughter, a spouse, siblings, anything, not even regular Miguel. He doesn't talk about them much, for some reason
-Will only remove/deactivate/turn down the power on his collar around people he trusts and loves. If he does any of these things around you consider it a high compliment
-When having a particularly bad day he'll let folks he trusts carry him around when he's small. So far it seems only regular Miguel, Jessica Drew, Ben Reilly and a few others Spiderfolk around HQ have earned the privilege
-Alternatively, it's not common to see him big at HQ, but there's been a few times when an Anomaly has gotten loose and wrecked something he was working on, and his temper got the better of him. There's still a massive hole between floors 35 and 38 when he punched a particularly frustrating Anomaly through the floor, no one talks to him about it to his face
-VERY nervous about holding and handling people when he's big, tried not to manhandle people when he can avoid it but sometimes it's necessary to save someone and he's honestly a bit of a nervous wreck the whole time (usually resulting in him inching even taller due to the stress, which only makes it worse)
-His Lyla is different than regular Miguel's: she appears as a thin brunette in a fancy black party dress, usually lounging on a chaise longue or similar, appearing very posh and dramatic. She's very sassy and sometimes downright cruel, not particularly caring whose feelings she hurts, but is also an incredibly useful encyclopedia of data on physics, metaphysics, engineering, and biology, which Miguel often leans on for filling in gaps in his knowledgebase. While the other A.I.s and Spiderfolk around HQ aren't too fond of her, Miguel is very grateful for her existence and is somewhat protective of her, a feeling that's mutual. She's protective of him, advocates for him when his powers go particularly haywire, and is the first to reach out for help on his behalf when he needs it. Her holographic light/colorscheme is a light blue, in contrast to regular Lyla's orange
-When he takes off his glasses he's either about to throw hands or cry, proceed at your own risk if you decide to stay and find out which it is
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What's your opinion on across the spider-verse as a whole?
Visually it's one of the most beautiful movies I've ever seen (seriously, I already have the art book for the first movie and I have the preorder for this one).
The character designs, the fluid movements which are even MORE insane with the quick camera angles keeping up with speed of characters, the coloring, the natural dialogue -- I wish this movie had been out when I was still in film school because I would write so many goddamn studies on it
Not to mention the score, the stakes that are raised, the characterization that feels so organic and sympathetic. Legit, I knew it was going to be a two-parter, but when it ended I was like "what do you MEAN it's over??? what do you mean it's been over two hours already????? I'm not ready to let go and process these emotions at 3pm you can't make me"
Anyways 10/10 will be obsessing over this art book when it comes out and buying this movie on demand and stalking the AO3 tag for at least 6 months
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x-pair-o-dice-x · 2 years
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girl help i am having ideas for a fic and also a prequel to said fic except i have to write the first fic first but it’s got two parts at least, maybe three if i wanna expand stuff, and the prequel is a three-parter at minimum, so it’s gonna take a while to finish either of those, but it’s also got noms and i wanna try to make some non-noms stuff for my non-nom followers, but also i’ve got brain rot, but also i need to actually design the characters first before writing this bc that’s how i work, but also i have no idea how to design superhero/villain outfits, but also i still really really wanna write this, but also-
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belethlegwen · 12 days
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The Scars We Leave Behind - Chapter 4
Come and get it, lovelies <3 Myself and @adjacentperception have brought to you another fine selection from our word crops. We are like farmers or something.
Pain farmers? Comfort... farmers???
We are sowing seeds of pain so that hopefully the ripened harvest of comfort at the end of season will be bountiful.
I'm losing myself in the metaphor. Please have a link.
Hope you enjoy!
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ofplanetsloved · 2 years
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❝ Since when did "HOPEFUL" and "NAIVE" become the same thing? I mean, why would you get into this business if not to save the world? That's all I have ever wanted. ❞
welcome to OFPLANETSLOVED, a multi-muse featuring a variety of muses including annie "starlight" january from the boys. // penned by ryan // starlight's page // guidelines
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misscrazyfangirl321 · 2 years
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super hero au, john and nikola: fancy meeting you here.
“Fancy meeting you here.” 
Only years of practiced control keep Nikola from jumping in surprise. His heart drops, but he steels himself, turning to face his former friend (though maybe friend was a strong word, even back then). 
“Johnny! Long time no see. I’d say you look exactly the same, but I’d hate to insult you.” 
Keep talking. Keep up the bravado, push him to his limits, tick him off, and take advantage of his instability. It’s a tried-and-true method, one that he’s fallen back on countless times over the years. 
Except, today, it doesn’t seem to be working. John only arches a brow, leaning back against the wall. Behind him, whisps of smoke rises from the wallpaper. 
“We need to discuss Helen.” 
Well, that’s right at the top of the list of things he will not be talking about with John Druitt, thank you very much. 
“Listen, if you’re here to tell me to stay away from your wife again-”
“She’s pregnant.” 
It’s enough to stop Nikola in his tracks, every snarky comment dying on his tonuge. After Ashley-after what the Cabal did to her, the monster they turned her into, the monster she still is-Nikola never expected Helen to have another child. Besides, there’s the issue of paternity. 
“Okay, not going to lie, I didn’t see that coming. But don’t feel too bad; she had to move on sometime. A hundred years is a long time to be loyal to a-”
“The child is mine.”
Of course it is. Of course Helen would never cheat on her husband, not even a century in, with no hope in sight. Still, he can’t help but be just a little bit disappointed in her; sure, his own moral qualms are limited, but she’s supposed to be better than him. So long as her husband is an evil monster, she should try to keep a safe distance from him. 
“Uh, okay then. Congratulations, Mazel Tov, and all that good stuff. Why are you telling me?”
John exhales, and suddenly, he looks very tired. “We were able to remove it,” he says after a moment. “The creature inside me. I was free.” 
Even without the past tense, Nikola would know better than to think John’s free now; the man was powerful back at Oxford, but he didn’t fray wallpaper just by leaning against it. “What happened?” 
“Containment failed. Everything we used to check the creature’s power only seemed to make it stronger. I had no choice but to take it back, or let it destroy everything.” 
Nikola doesn’t care. Truly, he doesn’t. It’s not like they were ever close, per say. (So the twisting in his chest, the discomfort, the shouting that it isn’t fair, means absolutely nothing). “How long did you-”
“24 hours.” 
Twenty-four hours. One day, after a century of misery, only to take it all back. What sort of idiot would do that? (A noble one, a voice in the back of his mind that sounds irritatingly like Helen points out. A good one.) 
It isn’t hard to put together the pieces, to track this back to the question of Helen’s pregnancy. He asks again, and in spite of himself, it’s far more sincere than before. “Why are you telling me this?” 
“The Cabal will be coming for the child.” That makes sense; if it’s as powerful as Ashley, being able to raise it from infancy would make the kid into a remarkable weapon. “I want you to stay at the Sanctuary and protect Helen and our little one. I’d do so myself, but she’s far safer without me.” 
Nikola’s dreaming. That’s the only possible explanation. “First of all, we both know Helen can take care of herself. Second, I don’t know if you’ve heard, Johnny, but I’m not exactly a hero anymore.”
He doesn’t acknowledge the first protest. “Helen is surrounded by heroes. I think your.... Lack of inhibitions will make you far more capable of helping her than they might be.” 
Fair point. “And why would I do that?” Since fleeing the Bureau, he’s looked out for exactly one person: himself. 
John’s expression is far too calm. “We both know why.” 
It cuts straight through him. He wants to protest, to yell, to say that the absolute last thing he wants to do is watch Helen carrying another man’s child, pining for someone she might never be able to save, but the words stick in his throat. 
Helen needs help, and he already knows he’ll go. There is, however, one small issue. 
“Uh, the last time we saw each other, I sort of tried to-” The temperature in the room spikes, and suddenly, Nikola remembers exactly who he’s talking to. Probably best to leave any homicide attempts out of the conversation. “-it didn’t go well,” he finishes instead. “I doubt she’ll let me in the door.” 
For a split-second, Nikola thinks John’s going to fry him outright, but then, he exhales, and the temperature drops down once more. “Helen is far more forgiving than either of us deserve,” John says simply, and Nikola can’t exactly argue with that. 
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And then he blew up like 17 people and took Nano to IHOP
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rooniper · 1 year
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Hot take: the Spiderverse movies are quite possibly the most relatable superhero movies I’ve ever experienced because I’ve never seen a superhero movie nail the ‘being queer and closeted’ experience down to a T
Like the AMOUNT of experiences they get down so well is just
- not feeling accepted anywhere, even within your own community sometimes, feeling like a mistake no matter where you go
- hiding half your identity from your parents (I swear to god that scene where Miles is about to tell Rio he’s Spiderman in ATSV is literally me trying to come out to my parents and chickening out, it hurt to watch)
- fearing rejection from your parents (“Dad, do you really hate Spiderman?”)
- finding out the people you look up to and trust wouldn’t accept you and would actually try to harm you and the sheer terror that comes from it (god the Prowler reveal in the first movie still hurts me)
- gravitating more and more towards friends who are also queer because they get you (aka the spideys from different dimension just gravitating together)
- just. having a secret identity, in general
- the underlying theme of the movies that despite anything, despite the world rejecting you, despite your own community rejecting you, you are valid and you are loved and you should never forget that (which is not an inherently queer experience but g o d)
I could go on, but. Just. Dammit, these movies mean so much to me.
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oizysian · 1 month
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Hello, how are you? Could you write a wife G!p Wanda x preggo f reader. Where wanda is very jealous and possessive with reader if shes near other people. If you're not comfortable don't worry ^^
Mine, All Mine | Wanda Maximoff
Warnings: enchanted strap, blow jobs, whiny cummy Wanda.
AN: the people voted and enchanted strap won, so I’m sorry I changed it from g!p. I hope you still like it!
“Wanda, I’m okay.” I assured her, rubbing the back of her hand softly with my thumb.
“You’re pregnant. You shouldn’t be doing anything strenuous.”
“A party isn’t strenuous.” I giggled, kissing her cheek. “We’re gonna have a good time.”
“If you feel sick or tired or wanna go home, just let me know and we’ll leave.”
“Baby, I’ll be fine. You worry too much.”
“I worry because you’re carrying my child. I can’t help but worry.”
“I know, but it’s just a small get together with your superhero friends.”
“It’s never small when it comes to Tony.” She grumbled and I couldn’t help but smile at her pout.
“You never know. He may surprise you.”
The rest of the drive was quiet, a comfortable silence washing over us. Her right hand remained on my thigh as she drove and I drew little shapes on it with my fingertips, trying my best to keep her calm.
When we got there, she parked and rushed out of the car before I could even say anything, opening the door for me and helping me out.
“I’m not that pregnant, Wanda.” I said with a chuckle, taking hold of her hand as we walked towards Avengers Tower.
“But you will be and I wanna be ready for when you are.”
I shook my head at her words, unable to believe how she was acting over my pregnancy. I knew she was protective of me even without a baby inside me, so it was clear that her overprotective nature was running on overdrive.
Once we entered and reached the floor that the party was being held on, we were instantly greeted by everyone congratulating us and wanting to touch my stomach.
Wanda instantly turned red, literally, and everyone knew to back off.
“Wanda,” I scolded her. “Relax.”
“How can I relax when everyone is trying to touch you?” She hissed into my ear and I shivered at the tone of her voice.
“They’re just excited.” I returned my attention to the crowd who were now just talking amongst themselves. “One of their baby members is having a baby.”
“I am not the baby here.” She argued and I laughed at her reaction. “Of course you’re not, my love.”
Natasha walked from the group of huddled up people back to us, smiling as she approached.
“Congratulations, Y/N, Wanda.” She took a sip of her drink. “When are you due?”
“The sixteenth of August.” I smiled brightly.
Wanda tugged on my hand and I ignored her, knowing she was just being ridiculous. It was Natasha, not some stranger.
“You okay there, Wands?” She asked and Wanda nodded curtly.
“She’s just a little moody.” I spoke for her, giving her hand a pat. “She didn’t want me to come tonight.”
“Oh? Why not?”
I gestured to everyone around us and she nodded in understanding. She knew how Wanda could be and she could only imagine how bad it was now that there was a baby on the way.
“Don’t worry, Wanda. I’ll let everyone know to relax with the touching and the questions.”
“Thank you.” I said as she walked away, Wanda’s grip on my hand loosening as we were left alone. “Are you really that upset about us being here?” I questioned her and her gaze fell to the ground. “We can leave, baby. I didn’t realize you felt so strongly about this.”
“No, it’s fine.” She said softly, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “You wanted to be here and … I guess I need to get used to people being around you and the baby.”
I nodded, giving her a sympathetic look before leading her over to where Tony and Steve were standing, nursing drinks and talking. I figured if we were going to leave early, which was very likely, we would have to at least speak to the host once.
“Y/N.” Tony greeted me. “Wanda. Nice light show you put on earlier. If I had known you were gonna do that I would’ve canceled the entertainment for tonight.”
Her eyes darkened and I chuckled nervously before Steve gave him a little nudge.
“Don’t listen to him, Wanda.” He said, extending his hand to her. “Congratulations.”
After a moment of staring daggers at Tony, she took Steve’s hand, shaking it.
“Thank you.” She smiled slightly. “We’re very excited.”
“As are we all.” Tony raised his glass in a toast. “To the new little Avenger.”
Wanda puffed out her chest, about to speak, before I squeezed her hand, reminding her to relax.
“I actually plan on retiring once the baby comes.” She said through gritted teeth. “The baby will have a normal life.”
He tilted his head at her, taking a gulp of his drink.
“If you say so, witchy.”
“Wanda, are you okay?” I asked softly, watching as she unlocked the front door and opened it, letting me walk in first.
“I’m fine.”
If she were a cartoon character, she’d be bright red with smoke coming out of her ears.
“I’m just …” She threw her hands up in frustration. “I can’t get over the fact that so many people were all over you.”
“They weren’t all over me.” I said softly.
“I’m just not used to people being all over my wife and baby.”
I walked up to her and wrapped my arms around her neck, pulling her close so I could kiss her.
“It’s only temporary. Once the baby is born we’ll be off in our own little world with nobody to bother us. But, right now …”
I ran my hands down her shoulders to her arms, taking her hands in my own before getting down on my knees in front of her, biting my lip as I undid the button on her pants.
“Y/N … you shouldn’t …”
“Shh,” I tugged on her pants and panties, exposing her pussy to me. “Bring it out.”
I looked up at her, watching as she bit her bottom lip, her eyes closing as a red colored cock emerged from between her legs, twitching with arousal. I smiled up at her and took her hardness in my hand, running my fingers along the tip, spreading her precum along her shaft.
“If … you feel like you c-can’t …” she stuttered softly and I ignored her, slipping her into my mouth.
She moaned, desperately gripping at my hair as I bobbed up and down along her length. I could feel her throbbing against my tongue and I couldn’t help but groan at the taste of her. Even though it wasn’t a real dick, it still tasted like her, felt like her, and she felt everything I did to it, which made this even more exciting.
“I-I’m gonna cum, baby.” She whimpered softly, running her fingers through my hair as her hips thrust up against my face.
She made a slight attempt to pull away from me and I grabbed her thighs, keeping her still. I wanted her to cum inside my mouth; I wanted all of her. Her hips bucked, her legs twitching as she came, her cum spurting down my throat and spilling out of my mouth. I did my best to swallow all of it, but there was so much and she was just cumming and cumming and …
She let out a breathy whimper, her brow furrowing as I continued to suck her off, taking all of her in my mouth.
“Y/N … I need …” I knew what she needed.
I let her slip out of my mouth, panting softly as I took her in my hand, stroking her length until she hardened again. She was so receptive to me, so reactive, and I loved that about her.
I licked the tip of her cock, smiling when I heard her breathy moan, her little intake of breath as I continued to take her inch by inch into my mouth again.
She let out a mewl as I swirled my tongue around her length, and I happily sucked on the tip, as if she’d be the last thing I’d ever have in my mouth.
“Y/N,” she whined, gripping desperately at my hair. “Don’t stop.”
I took her as deeply as I could, tears pricking at my eyes as she touched the back of my throat. She twitched and throbbed against my tongue as she came again, her throaty whimpers and moans almost pushing me over the edge too.
“Baby … detka …” she finally spoke again, her voice low and accent thick. “I love you.”
I smiled up at her, lips and chin covered in her cum, and licked at the remains.
“I love you more.”
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