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matchavellichor · 11 months

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A Misplaced Apparition

Garreth Weasley x f!MC - Fluff/Banter - 3.2k words - ao3 link

While helping Garreth forage for potion ingredients, a misplaced apparition leaves you both magic-less and stranded somewhere in the Forbidden Forest.

Black Cat MC, Golden Retriever Garreth // Huddling for Warmth/One Bed trope // MC is a little mean, Garreth is a pining himbo who loves her for it

Recent Weasley Wednesdays have awakened something in me for this man and I just... 🫠 had to write a dumb lil fic

“Just stay quiet and stay behind me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Garreth gives you a mock salute before he follows you further into the moss-covered cavern. Water drips from stalactites on the ceiling, the sound echoing eerily off the stone walls.

Your wand is outstretched in front of you, a soft glow emitting from the tip of the wood and illuminating the surrounding space. The lair is quiet, too quiet, and your shoulders are strung high with anticipation, reflexes trained to react accordingly to any threat.

At the first sight of an acromantula, Garreth shrieks, before you quickly slash the creature’s head off with a slicing hex. Suddenly the cave is not so quiet, the sound of numerous legs scrambling down the stone passageways of the cavern some distance away, quiet hisses and clicking.

“Shout a little bit louder, will you?” You chastise. “I think you only woke about eighty percent of the colony.”

“Oh, my bad!” Garreth retorts. “I’ll make sure to keep my cool the next time a hairy, eight-legged monster lunges for my throat.”

He quickly kneels beside the carcass, grimacing when he slices into the exoskeleton of the creature with a scalpel and black goo immediately drenches his fingers. He makes a small puncture in the venomous gland and collects the liquid into a vial, corking it and wiping his hands with a disgusted shudder. “Merlin, I hate spiders.”

“Yet you drag me to an acromantula lair?”

“Uh, duh? I’m not spending 100 galleons a pint on this stuff when I have my own personal body guard to help me extract it for free. Plus, this is—” He interrupts himself with another shriek when a second acromantula, about twice the size of the first, pounces from the shadows, fangs flared. You immediately incinerate the creature with a confringo, but Garreth bumps into you in his fright, knocking your wand out of your hand and sending it rolling out of reach on the stone floor of the cavern, your lumos going out with it.

“Weasley, you dimwit!” You groan, feeling around on your hands and knees for the lost wand. It’s pitch black inside the lair, and you know the longer you sit around defenseless and blind, the greater your chance of ending up as spider dinner.

“I found it!” He announces, reigniting the lumos with your wand in hand. He walks back over to you with a smug smile before his eyes catch on something over your shoulder and his expression immediately drops.

You can hear the tell-tale click of pincers behind you and it doesn’t take a genius to guess what’s got him shitting his trousers. Before you can even take back your wand and defend yourself, he’s yanking you into his chest by the collar of your coat and you’re feeling your entire body squeeze with the tug of apparition.

A few seconds later, you land flat on the ground on top of him, limbs entangled in one another’s. You both wince from the impact, your insides feeling like they’ve been rearranged in the wrong order.

“I’m…I’m going to kill you.” You groan, willing yourself not to throw up your lunch all over him.

“‘Oh, thank you, Garreth, for saving us from the big, angry spider.’” He mimics, voice shrill and high-pitched. You’re unamused.

“I would’ve handled it!” You retort, sliding off his chest. You sit up, trying to gain some level of composure after just having all of your atoms immaterialized and recombined. “Where the hell did you even take us?”

He takes a look around, scratching his head as he tries to spot some identifying landmark. “Er, I’m…not sure.”

“Oh, lovely.”

“I wasn’t thinking! There was a ginormous spider in front of me, I kind of just pictured in my head ‘not here’, you know?”

“Perfect! We could be in bloody Uzbekistan right now!”

“I’m flattered that you think I’m powerful enough to accomplish transcontinental apparition at the drop of a hat,” He splays a hand over his chest, a smirk tugging at his lips. He takes another look around the immediate surroundings. “But, we’re clearly still in Scotland, don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

“I’m going to put off throttling you at the moment for both of our sakes,” You pick yourself up off the ground, head still slightly woozy, before you outstretch your hand in front of him. “Just give me my wand so we can get out of here.”

He slowly gets up himself, revealing the piece of wood snapped in two, having been wedged underneath both of you when you apparated.

You gape at the crushed wand, now just a dull, magic-less stick after having severed its core. “I’m going to kill you.”

“You’ve said that already. I don’t think it’s possible to kill someone twice, even with your talents.”

“Garreth, this is serious!” You seethed. “You snapped my wand!”

“I didn’t snap anything, it was a blameless casualty!” He raised his hands in a placating gesture, trying to calm you.

“Oh my God, just, nevermind.” You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Take out yours and apparate us out of here, for the love of Merlin, before I burst an artery.”

He scratches the back of his head sheepishly. “So…about that.”

You look at him dumbfounded. “Tell me you’re joking.”

“Well, excuuuse me for having a little faith in my friend,” He scoffs. “You wield Ancient Magic, for Merlin’s sake! I assumed I was in safe enough hands to leave it in my dorm.”

“Perfect, so we’re stranded in a random forest without any magic.”

“Look, just relax, we’re probably not far from Hogwarts,” He squints his eyes as he focuses on a particularly ordinary piece of shrubbery. “You know what, yeah,” He tilts his head, contemplative, as if this random bush has given him a grand epiphany. “I know exactly where we are, it’s uh— right this way.”

“Oh, then by all means,” You gesture your hand forward.

He takes a couple over-confident steps north before he stops in his tracks, squints and scratches the back of his head as he examines the path in front of him. He turns on his heels on a ninety-degree angle and resumes his strides. “Okay, just kidding. This way, yes, yes, definitely this way.”

“You have no idea where we’re going, do you?”

“Of course I do!”

—

The two of you make your way through the woods for several, long, grueling hours, cutting through thickets and beaten-down paths. For the first few hours it’s admittedly a little peaceful, the forest floor covered in reds and oranges from the autumn leaves, the setting sun casting a warm glow over the treescape. Soon enough though, the last vestiges of daylight dwindle into darkness, shrouding the forest in twilight. When you realize you seem to be nowhere closer to civilization, you stop in your tracks, defeated.

“This is pointless,” You sigh, rubbing the back of your neck. Your feet ache from stepping over so many overgrown roots and boulders and you’re starting to feel sleep pull at your eyes. “We’re clearly getting nowhere.”

“You’re right,” He relented, letting the rucksack slung over his shoulder sink to the floor. “So what now?”

“I think this is the point where we draw lots to decide who eats who.” You sigh. “It’s our best chance at survival.”

He looks genuinely concerned at your seriousness for a moment before he breaks into a smug smirk. “Oh love, if you wanted a piece of this,” He gives you a little wink. “All you had to do was ask.”

You blink at him. “You’ve cured my appetite. Thank you, Weasley.”

“Anytime.”

“Let’s just…call it in for the night.” You lay back on the grass, legs aching. You’re so exhausted you’d probably kiss the blast end of a skrewt for a warm bed. “We’ll walk more in the morning.”

“Good idea.” He kneels down beside you, rummaging through his bag and pulling out various materials that he’s managed to fit inside with an expansion charm.

“Let me get this straight,” You squint at the litter cluttering the floor around you. “You bring with you a frying pan,” You dangle the lunky piece of metal in front of his face. “But not your wand.”

“Uh, yeah?” He scoffs as if it’s obvious. “You never know when you might want a quick snack in the middle of your gallivanting.”

“Great, so I assume you also have some means of starting a fire then? It’s freezing.”

His response is a silent pause, to which you return with a groan.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re not really the sharpest tool in the shed?”

“I have no idea what that means,” He looks at you a little puzzled. “But Sallow has told me I’m not the brightest lacewing fly in the jar.” He scratches his chin, contemplating. “Never really understood what he meant by that.” He shrugs to himself and continues sorting through the madness stuffed in his sack.

“You know, Weasley, you’re so clueless sometimes it’s almost adorable. Like a… big, red Puffskein or something.”

He perks up, looking up at you with a grin stretching ear to ear. “You think I’m adorable?”

“You have selective hearing, huh?”

“Yup,” He pauses for a moment, and you can almost see the little gears turning in his head before he opens his mouth to say something that’s going to give you an even bigger headache. “Okay, so, hypothetically — if aforementioned adorable critter was very tall and very ginger, would you ever shag a Puffsk—”

“Christ, alright, forget I said anything about Puffskeins.”

He raises his hands in an acquiescing gesture before he’s back to rummaging through his bag. You watch as he pulls out cheeses and breads wrapped in cloth, crackers and little jars of jams. The man packs an entire charcuterie board but doesn’t pack basic survival necessities like matches. He grins proudly when he pulls out his pièce de résistance, or so he calls it, a large bottle of cheap, goblin-made elderberry wine.

“Really splurged on the good stuff, huh?” You mutter, a thick layer of sarcasm slathered on top. You eye the label of the bottle, that has enough alcohol stuffed in it to inebriate a young manticore.

“Duh,” He slices you a piece of sourdough. You’re glad that if you’re attacked by poachers or a wild animal, at least you’ll have a flimsy bread knife to defend yourselves with. “What kind of man would I be if I didn’t properly wine and dine my lady on our date.”

“Date, huh?” You snort. You lean in, tapping a finger to his temple. “Think you might’ve hit your head a little too hard when we apparated, Weasley. Something’s not right in there.”

“Oh, that’s not true,” He turns to look at you, a small smile playing at his lips. He holds two jars of jam in front of you. “That I hit when I fell for you. Quite a nasty tumble.” He gives you a wink and you roll your eyes. “Apricot or blackberry?”

“Apricot.”

He opens the jar and slathers a generous layer on top of your bread. It’s admittedly a little endearing to watch him slicing a piece of cheese for you, nimble fingers focusing on the presentation. He hands you the bread with a little ta-da and you bite back a smile.

He makes true on his promise to wine and dine you for the better part of the evening, and you admittedly find yourself enjoying his company a little too much. He’s witty and charming, and despite how much you tease him for being an idiot, he’s so blaringly not. He talks in detail about his latest brewing endeavors, and you marvel at how much practical and theoretical knowledge he has about the subject.

You admire the way his green eyes light up when he speaks about what he’s passionate about. At how they almost seem to glow when he says something that makes you laugh, a proud smile on his face.

“You look pretty like this,” He murmurs some time after the laughter and conversation died down, moonlight casting a soft glow around your surroundings. It’s cold out considering it’s the middle of October, but there’s a pleasant warmth seeping through you from the wine in your stomach and the feel-good banter. You try not to think about how warm he makes you feel, spreading through your body like hot honey.

“Like what?”

“All giggles and smiles,” He nudges your shoulder. “Not so serious. You should do it more often.”

You shrug, chancing a side-long glance at him, a small smile tugging at your lips from the sincereness in his voice. “You should make me do it more often.”

“Believe me,” He grins, lopsided and charming. You’d press your lips to that stupid smile of his, chase the taste of sugary blackberry off his tongue, but you haven’t had nearly enough wine to lower your inhibitions to that point. You just observe him.

“I would dedicate my life to doing exactly so if you let me.”

—

“Aha! Found it.” Garreth pulls out a thick, rolled-up comforter with twine around the middle from the depths of his rucksack, holding it up proudly. It’s plush, and very red and gold — because of course, even Garreth’s sleeping bag has to be on brand. He lays it out under the cover of a large oak tree, smoothing down the fabric.

“Alrighty, climb in,” He pats the soft material. “I don’t mind sharing as long as you promise not to murder me in my sleep.”

“I’m fine right here,” You huddle into yourself on the soft patch of grass you’re laying on, knees bunched up to your chest. “Also, no promises.”

“It’s freezing,” He protests. “You can’t really expect me to let you sleep like that.”

“You don’t have to let me do anything,” You roll your eyes. “I’m sleeping right here.”

“Stop being stubborn and get in the bag.”

“No. I don’t want to get in the bag.”

“Just get in the bag.”

“Oh my god,”

“Get—”

“I’m two seconds away from strangling you.”

“Oho, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“Weasley.”

“Fine, fine!” He chuckles. “Grouchy. No strangling.”

He settles down for all but five seconds before he opens his mouth again. “Unless it’s erotic strangling, then by all mea—”

“For the love of—”

“Alright, alright! Shutting up now.”

—

You try to keep the sound of your teeth-chattering to a minimum, determined to not give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s right, but you last all of twenty minutes before all of your resolve is withering away.

You peer over at Garreth, his eyes closed, sound asleep. He looks so infuriatingly soft and inviting, and you hate yourself for thinking that his arms would feel heavenly wrapped around you right now, your body pressed to his, leeching off his warmth.

Screw it.

You stand up from your spot, muttering curses to yourself under your breath as you make your way towards him. The second he hears you move, he lifts an arm to open up a space for you, as if expecting it. He doesn’t make a comment, doesn’t even open his eyes, but you can feel his self-satisfied smirk as you slide into the sleeping bag with him, your back pressed to his chest.

And fuck him, if he doesn’t have a right to be self-satisfied.

Because he truly does feel heavenly. He somehow manages to be cushiony and firm all at the same time. You can feel the rigid contours of his muscles pressed against your frame, taut yet velvety soft. You chalk up the heat you feel on your cheeks to the fact that his skin is warm like a furnace, devastatingly comforting. When you press back against him, your body wriggling against his like you’re draping yourself over a sun-bathed rock, he takes it as an open invitation to slide his hands over your sides, arms wrapping around you.

“For fuck’s sake, I’m not your teddy bear—” You grumble but he hushes you.

“I know, Mr. Snuffles is a lot nicer.” He murmurs, cheek pressed against your shoulder. “But, you make do with what you’ve got in the rugged wilderness, I suppose.”

You snort, the image of Garreth actually cuddling with a teddy bear coming into mind. You try not to linger on the fact that’s probably what it’d look like he’s doing at the moment to an outsider’s eyes, his body significantly dwarfing yours.

“Mr. Snuffles? Really?”

“Hey! I named him when I was eight.” He retorts. “Mmhm, you do smell a lot nicer than him, though.”

“I smell like sweat and dirt.”

“Yeah, but it’s you, so it’s like a…pleasant sweat and dirt.”

“You’re a very strange individual.”

“I love it when you sweet-talk me.”

You shift against him, letting yourself sink against his body because he feels just too good wrapped around you for you to protest. “Will you take your wand out of your pocket? It’s poking me.”

“I don’t have my wand. That’s something else.”

“Oh God—”

“I’m teasing!” He chuckles. “It’s my deluminator.” He slips the strange contraption from his pocket and flicks it open, a soft glow emitting from the tip. He tucks it away and wraps himself back around you.

“Come on, do you think me some kind of pervert? I’ve been picturing Leander in a bathing suit the moment you came in.”

You snort. “Oh, so that’s why you have an erection,” You tease. “And here I was thinking you were just happy to see me.”

“Hilarious.”

He shifts you against him, rearranging you how he pleases in the tight space of the sleeping bag so your face is pressed against his chest. He tucks a leg between yours, entangling your limbs as if he’d find any ounce of personal space an offense. He sighs contentedly at the feeling of your warm breath against his skin, squeezing you even tighter.

“Do you have to manhandle me like this?” You grumble, though make no efforts to move out of position. It is admittedly a little nice to be his plush toy for a night, to feel his strong arms wrapped around you, his chin resting on top of your head. Okay, screw it, it’s actually insanely nice.

“Be less easy to manhandle then.”

—

“Are they dead?”

“Dunno, —uh, try poking one?”

You wake up with a startled gasp, sitting up and finding two third-years hovering over you in Quidditch uniforms, brooms in hand, and a mixture of curiosity and concern shrouding their expressions.

They both look startled when you wake, jumping back.

Garreth groans beside you as you shift, wrapping his arms around your waist and sleepily murmuring “Five more minutes,” with his face pressed against your stomach.

“Are you alright, miss?”

“Uh, fine,” You stammer. “How…how are you here?”

“What do you mean?”

“How’d you get here?”

They both look at you confused. “You realize Hogwarts is just about a hundred meters that way, right?” One of the boys asks, perplexed. He nods his head towards the direction they likely came from. “We just came here to retrieve a stray Quaffle.”

“Oh, uh…yes.” Your cheeks burn with embarrassment. “Yes, I knew that.”

The boys just shrug before they hop back on their brooms, snickering to themselves as they make their way back to the Quidditch field.

Garreth hasn’t stirred a muscle during the entire interaction, blissfully asleep beside you. You sigh when he sleepily pulls you back down and into his arms, tucking you against his chest.

You decide to give him his five more minutes.

#garreth weasley #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy garreth #garreth weasley x reader #garreth weasley x mc #fluff #weasley wednesday #even though it's saturday #inspiration hit and i didn't want to wait until next week to post LOL

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danwhobrowses · 11 months

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Beyond the Spider-Verse Theory: The Hidden Villain

So I've left it a few days after watching Across the Spider-Verse to gather my thoughts. And while you can see my review here it's time for some theory crafting for the next movie: Beyond the Spider-Verse

This theory will discuss the existence of another villain behind the scenes

Spoilers for Across the Spider-Verse

So as we know, the main crux of the Spider Society's storyline is that the Web of Life and Destiny (aka the Spider-Verse) apparently hinges on the concept of 'Canon Events', whereby each Spider has to undergo intersecting moments in each mythos. Miguel O'Hara enforces this pattern via the Spider Society, after his attempts to 'break canon' caused the universe he inhabited, taking over from another dead Miguel's life, to die - along with his alternative universe daughter. We also learn that anomalies like this will cause the web to collapse, and thus Miles - having been bitten by another universe's spider to get spider powers, allegedly robbing the powers from another potential spider - and Spot are walking anomalies and their prolonged time in another universe may cause another collapse.

But something doesn't quite add up.

First of all, if Miles and Spot are anomalies, why is their universe still intact? Same can be said for the Earth-42 spider still in a jar. Additionally, why did Miguel's universe collapse if he had the watch that keeps his atoms good in the universe? Isn't he doing exactly what he alleges Miles is doing, taking over another Spider-person who died in this Universe? Also it's highly unlikely that every Spider is subject to the same canon events; Ben Reilly is a clone and Miguel had his DNA mixed with a spider's so surely that disrupts the OG Canon Event of the Spider-bite right? Miguel never had an Uncle Ben or a Captain Stacy moment in his mythos (unless we're suddenly counting the alt!Daughter as the former), plus in Into the Spider-Verse Gwen already said she saved her dad from dying so wouldn't that have disrupted a Canon Event? Do captains even exist for Peter Parked Car or Spidersaurus Rex?

And finally, how can you say Spot and Miles are anomalies and shouldn't be in the universe when Pravitr's Canon Event is only caused by Spot interfering with his universe?

Like I said, it doesn't add up.

So, how do we establish that the idea of 'Canon Events' are not as strict as they seem, that Miles and Spot aren't reality-threatening anomalies, but also explain what happened to the universe that traumatized Miguel - with Peter B. also as witness to verify the story?

Perhaps, someone is manipulating the web behind the scenes.

In the comics, the Web of Life and Destiny is maintained by the 'Master Weaver', a character key to Morlun and his Inheritors, and while I don't think we're going to see the Weaver in Beyond the Spider-Verse I do feel like somebody could be filling that kind of a role. So ask yourself, who do we know in the Spider-Verse who has a unique interest in other dimensions, has the mind to test and tinker, but also has a fascination slash vendetta against the spiders...

Dr. Olivia Octavius was a highlight of the first movie, but her sudden exit after being hit by a truck was considered an abrupt and unsatisfying end for her. So what if she survived? And when the collider closed she was sucked into the Web of Life and Destiny? An inquisitive mind such as herself would have a wealth of time (well, not literally, given that Miles got a glimpse of the future and Spider Society HQ is in 2099 we can assume that the web exists outside of linear time) to test things, seeing the paths and intersections of other Spiders. Liv however does have one particular Spider she seems drawn to in a negative manner though, Peter B. Parker, so what if Miguel's incident in the universe collapsing was instead an attempted hit towards Peter B., Liv attempting to wipe him out of time by wiping the universe he was in?

It does go deeper, we've seen from the Spot that in his flashback scenes he's always adjacent to Liv, they both identified the Earth-42 spider, and she was the leading scientist on the Collider, so she would have the skills to know this, and if she became able to expand her abilities by being a villainous Master Weaver (like Superior Spider-Man attempted to be by killing the Master Weaver to change his fate), she may also be responsible for directing other Spiders' paths along the same route to manipulate Miguel into his current uncharacteristic way of thinking, she may also be manipulating her colleague Spot to encourage more suffering to the Spiders.

If true, it'll at least give Miguel closure and open the door for him to be apologetic and much less of a dick, but it'd also explain how Miles could become able to divert the idea of Canon Events without destroying his or other universes, liberating each Spider to exist in their own story without having to follow the same pattern. Adding to a much bigger role for Octavius (we did see a lot of variant Doc Ocks in ATSV) would provide a cyclic conclusion to Miles' journey since his other 'first villains' Kingpin and Prowler have been defeated.

But, this is just a theory, there's much room to go other directions, but it was a thought.

#spider man #spiderman #spiderman atsv #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #spiderverse #sony spiderverse #miles morales #miguel o'hara #the spot #across the spider verse #peter b parker #spider man across the spiderverse spoilers #spider man across the spider verse #into the spider verse #beyond the spiderverse #theory

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blogthebooklover · 1 month

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Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes Possible Theories

Okay, I made a list of possible theories regarding KotPotA. Again, these are just theories until the movie comes out (in like 5 weeks!!!! YAY!!!!!)

Underground Human Community

I'm calling it now, I think there's going to be an underground community of humans who retained their ability to speak. So far, we haven't seen any articles about this, beside the fairly recent Slash Films article about the Forbidden Zone and I am 100% certain this will be the underground human community (or I could be wrong). And I think this will be one of (maybe) a few Easter eggs to Beneath the Planet of the Apes.

SPOILER ALERT

The Human Mutants in BtPotA worship an atomic bomb, and it's one of the reasons why they're disfigured and have psychic abilities. I don't think Kingdom will go that far. I think they'll have humans that retained their intellect and speaking abilities.

2. Noah and the Ark Biblical Story

Again, I'm calling it now (and I think Wes Ball might have mentioned it in an article). Since the main character is named Noa, and Proximus Caesar's domain seems to be an abandoned naval base or some kind of abandoned shipyard with rusted ships. I think this movie will take inspiration from the biblical story of Noah and the Ark; since the "Caesar" trilogy was slightly inspired by the Moses/Exodus story, and the laboratory from Rise was called Gen-Sys (get it? Genesis???) And maybe just a little bit of the David and Goliath story between Noa and Proximus Caesar 🤔.

3. William H. Macy’s character is either Mae’s father, or a leader of the underground human community

I know William H. Macy will be in the movie, and so far he and the filmmakers haven’t revealed what his role will be. I think he’s either going to be Mae’s father, or a leader of the underground human community, or maybe even both. And I think there's the slightest possibility that he might be a human secondary antagonist, since Proximus Caesar is the primary ape antagonist.

4. Raka Knows Sign Language

Since Raka the orangutan seems to be some sort of religious leader/elder, I think he also knows sign language. And I think Raka or maybe Noa will teach Mae sign language.

5. Mae Is Going to Talk or Learn Sign Language (ASL)

So far, it looks like Mae is going to be a silent character. I do think she going to talk at some point during the movie, whether in the second act or later in the third act. I think she will also learn sign language to communicate.

6. Noa Is A Descendant of Caesar

Okay, I know this one is very obvious, and I'm jumping on the bandwagon. I do think Noa is a descendant of Caesar, mainly because he looks a lot like a younger Caesar and Blue Eyes. And even if he's not, that's okay too.

7. Andy Serkis Might Come Back

I'm taking a page out of the YouTube channel, Ape Nation's book here. I do think Andy Serkis might come back as a different character, or maybe (and this is probably highly unlikely) as Caesar in a possible vision/flashback scene for Noa during a very low point or maybe when Noa discovers the truth about the apes’ history.

8. Mae's Name

The recent IMAX trailer showed Noa shouting out for Raka and Nova. I recently found out that "Nova" is the name that the apes call the feral humans. I couldn't find the article confirming this, but Freya Allan said that Noa also calls her character "Echo" at some point during the movie. Personally, I like the name "Mae" for the character (and there's maybe the possibility that it is her real name, but I digress).

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iamthecomet · 9 months

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How do all the ghouls murder there prey

Oh man, I will try to keep this from getting away from me but I have so so so many thoughts about murder ghouls. I could talk about them FOREVER. But I will try not to. Preferred methods for each ghoul, under the cut. Current ghouls (plus Aether and Sunny) only, but I have THOUGHTS about the older ghouls too if anyone wants them. <3

Aether: Uses his quintessence to pull their life force from him into them. Usually happens over the course of days/weeks. Fucks with their memories/experience while he does it--it makes them taste better. Likes to play with his food. Leaves the body for his packmates to eat--doesn't really have a taste for blood. Aeon: Much like Aether, feeds primarily on their energy/life force. But unlike Aether who likes to keep them trapped in their own head--Aeon likes to bring what's in their head to life. Big on hallucinations. Uses his earth magic to twist the world around them into the stuff of nightmares. Has literally scared a few people to death (he thinks they taste best that way). Will share his kill with other ghouls. Likes a little blood and guts, as a treat. Cumulus: Prefers with someone else kills someone for her. They always taste better when they're a gift. Usually hunts in tandem with Cirrus who does most of the heavy lifting. If she has to kill, she prefers it to be bloodless (really hates washing blood out of her curls). Has perfected the art of using her magic to steal the breath from their lungs--suffocating them in a matter of terrifying minutes. Cirrus: In a word, efficient. Doesn't really want to chase anyone. Likes it better when they're settled between her legs happy and pliant and she can just slip her fangs into their carotid and end it quickly. Doesn't mind being covered in blood (because then Cumulus will clean her up). Sunshine: Loves a hunt, a chase. Likes her prey to fight. Wants them to run. She and Mountain tag team a lot (I wrote a whole fic about it here). Very much into ripping and tearing. Makes an unholy mess (which is why she only kills as deep in the woods as she can get. Aurora: Doesn't particularly like to kill. Does it out of necessity. Will share with other people when they offer. As much as she likes to indulge in blood and flesh she doesn't really see the appeal in killing. Sometimes can use her water nature (siren powers babyy) to lure Siblings into letting her nibble on them, drink a little blood to satisfy the need without actually killing anyone. Rain: Uses his natural siren-esque water powers to lure victims into the lake with him. He says he drowns them, but it's up for debate on whether they actually drown before he sinks his teeth into them. He's been known to turn the lake red. Once he gets them under water he's free to tear into them. Compelled to rip them to shreds. Only hunts out of water when he's hunting with Dew. Dewdrop: Quick. Brutal. A quick bite or slash to an artery or two usually does the job. Doesn't waste much time in playing with his food--doesn't really like to unless he's hunting with Rain. Usually shows his true from when hunting--he blends into the dark better that way. Only willingly shares his kills with Rain and Cumulus. Mountain: Poisoner. Teams up with Sunshine just to make things a little more fun. But when he kills alone, he brings a victim back to his greenhouse. Sometimes he feeds them poison in their food--their tea. Other times he pulls them into his lap, kisses them, pushes it into their mouth with his tongue. Always makes sure to give them enough that when he drinks their blood he'll get high off of it. Swiss: Mixes murder and pleasure. Thinks blood tastes the best when it's full of horny chemicals. A quick bite to the femerol artery while his victim is mid-orgasm is his favorite. However, he can be seen, late at night, filling victims with his shadow and consuming them from the inside out. Using his little bit of quintessence to make sure he devours every single atom.

#comet writes #comet canons #murder ghouls #murder ghouls my beloved #ghost headcanons #murder ghoul headcanons #nameless ghoul headcanons

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twisting-echo · 3 months

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So ¿what in your opinion are Danny fenton's top 5 cutest crossover ships? In both het and slash.

So ¿two top 5's? I don't know.

Well, this is going to be fun because I have more than just 5 hehehe 😼

1) Danny Fenton/Danny Phantom x Manny Rivera/El Tigre (TigerGhost/TigerSpirit) I just fell in love with their dynamic, thanks to @/nicktoonsunite

I love Danny and Manny because Danny tends to be a little more serious and easily stressed out than Manny. And Manny's laid-back and fun loving personality helps balance that out for Danny. But the main draw for me is that they both understand what it's like to have separate identities that clash with their lives and the responsibility of protecting others. Even though they may feel like their powers get in the way of their normal lives sometimes, they will always put aside their own needs to do what's right.

2) Danny Fenton/Danny Phantom x SpongeBob SquarePants (SpongeBoo) because of @/nicktoonsunite (and because I remember playing Nicktoons Volcano Island on my old GameCube and Nicktoons Globs of Doom on my old PS2).

Danny and SpongeBob are just cute, queerplatonic partners, and their personalities mesh well together. I love how close and comforting they are in @/nicktoonsunite's universe. If there was something that was bothering them both, they would be the first people they chose to confide in.

3) Danny Fenton/Danny Phantom and Octavia Goetia (Spectral Owl) because of you and how cute they are. I honestly love the idea of Danny and Via healthily trauma bonding over the upbringings they had in their family homes. I love how shy and awkward they would be with each other.

I imagine Octavia helping Danny ghost hunt with her magic and knowledge of the supernatural, but I think what I love most is how slowly and gently Danny gets Octavia to put her walls down and trust him. They would be absolutely good for each other as a couple, and I headcanon that Danny will grow to be 6′ 1″ and Octavia will be 6′ 7″. Danny and Octavia will be a tall and adorable king and queen couple one day. (He will always nickname her Spooky.)

4) Danny Fenton/Danny Phantom x Betty Barrett/Atomic Betty (Galactic Ghost) Now I was a huge Atomic Betty and Danny Phantom fan in my childhood (still am) so that's how this ship came to be.

I ship Betty and Danny for the same reasons I ship Danny and Manny but Danny becomes a galactic guardian and Betty becomes a ghost buster lol.

5) Danny Fenton/Danny Phantom x Little Cato (Spectral Space/Spooky Cat/Ghostly Hellions) (I need more ship names for these two).

I'm a huge Little Cato fan, and this is one of my favorite ships that I've come up with for him. I like to imagine that Little Cato gets his first intense crush on Danny, and Danny is completely oblivious (for awhile) about it. Little Cato just thinks that Danny is the coolest person he's ever met, and laughs at all of his silly jokes. Danny can't help but think how cute Little Cato is and finds himself enjoying every moment that they spend together. That's all I'm going to say about this ship because I plan to make a post about them in the future.

Honorable Mentions:

Danny Fenton/Danny Phantom x Jenny Wakeman/XJ-9

Danny Fenton/Danny Phantom x Billy Joe Cobra

Danny Fenton/Danny Phantom x Lydia Deetz (Because Lydia is sweet and kind and everything Sam isn't)

Danny Fenton/Danny Phantom x Spencer Wright

Danny Fenton/Danny Phantom x Verosika Mayday

Danny Fenton/Danny Phantom x Loona the hellhound

There's probably more that I like but can't think of any more right now.

Thanks for the ask @amethystoceandespiser

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c-is-for-circinate · 9 months

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Ok so regarding the stranger things extended universe, i definitely want to know more about nancy and her storyline, like does this become her career ? investigating government conspiracies? And how does she feel about it? About not living a more peaceful life after everything?

After something like Hawkins, there are three ways to go if you want to keep sane, Nancy thinks. Or, well. As sane as any of them are, now.

Some of them went out into the world ready to grab life and joy with both hands and all their teeth, the memory of how close death came to devouring them enough to spur them on to devour life right back. (Eddie's playing Boston next week, wants to know if she'll go to his show; Max and El, last Nancy heard, are learning to surf.) Some of them went out into the world still full of combat reflexes they didn't mean to keep and tripped into a new fight, a slower quieter more mundane one. (She saw the photos Jonathan took last time he visited Steve and Robin in Chicago, the protests last month, the signs, the flags.) And some of them...well. Some of them left the lessons of Hawkins a little less behind than that.

They won in Hawkins, inasmuch as burned-out buildings and the town memorials and the deep scars cutting through a still-damaged downtown count as winning. That battle's fought and won and done. But Nancy hasn't forgotten who started it, and it wasn't Henry Creel.

(She'll argue with Dustin about it, over a mountain of fried shrimp and a pitcher of beer he's somehow old enough to legally buy, because Dustin's always cared more about the how than the why. He thinks the important lesson of Hawkins is that the laws of physics known by everybody across the global scientific community are wrong. They spend an hour and a half going back and forth about Oppenheimer and Eisenhower, Regan and Brezhnev and Martin Brenner, because one of the only differences between Vecna and a nuclear bomb is still the fact that nobody thinks Vecna could exist, but Dustin is wrong about why that's important.)

Science can do a thousand things nobody thinks it can do. Science can split an atom. Science can split dimensions. It doesn't matter why it's possible; it doesn't even really matter what's possible, beyond the fact that massive governments with thousands of soldiers and billions of dollars can always kill when they want to. Whether it's a bomb or a child experiment or a gas leak.

What matters, every time, is that people are dead. What matters is that the public needs to know.

Nancy makes her name in college breaking a story about illegal sewage dumping near a residential neighborhood before the Boston Globe even has it. She gets a professor fired for plagiarism. She almost gets expelled for libel when she tries to run a story about date rape on campus. (She almost gets caught slashing tires, after that one, but she learned from the best. Erica Sinclair taught her plenty about stealth, and Murray's been trying to drive in the idea of patience since the first time they met.)

It's not about monsters, it was never about monsters. There aren't any more monsters, Nancy thinks. (She keeps a licensed handgun in a shoebox in her apartment, because she ran out of ammo for the Makarov years ago, because monsters aren't the only things that like to threaten too-curious reporters in the middle of the night, and because you never know.) It's always been about the people the monsters destroy.

Nobody will ever believe the story of what destroyed Hawkins, probably. (Maybe someday they'll declassify. Nancy has a four-hundred-page memoir under lock and key in the safe where she doesn't store her gun, if the world ever gets there. Maybe she'll just pass it down to Mike's grandchildren.) But people know now that it was Hawkins National Lab. That some kind of government weapons research, right there on Indiana soil, broke a small town in half. That's something.

Nancy graduates college and interns anywhere she can get a foot in the door. The Globe. The Times. The Washington Post. The Post, finally, sticks. There's an editor there who loves to give new reporters just enough slack in their leashes to hang themselves with, so they can fill the back of the paper with issue-selling scandal and then have somebody to fire if the wrong person in power gets upset. Nancy does three months of research, jotting off puff pieces and human interest stories about charity work and bills with no opposition, quietly filling up file folders of photos and receipts and evidence that nobody can prove she didn't obtain legally. Her first headline runs on a Tuesday morning and gets a White House senior staffer fired by Thursday afternoon.

It could have gotten her clearing out her desk by the end of Friday, but Nancy was careful. Nancy was smart. It chafes from the inside out, like a blister on her soul, but she knows all about water it down. She could've implicated a dozen elected officials in this, and ten of them would have skated right by with no trouble, just plenty of cause to make Nancy trouble right back. (There are already people in Washington who know her name. Nancy knows there are files about her in the Pentagon.) So she's careful, she's delicate, and she implies nothing at all about anybody she can't demolish outright. She waters it down. It gets her a promotion.

Nancy doesn't drink icewater vodka, herself. She likes whiskey instead, in her coffee, in her tea. She talks on the phone with Murray Bauman at only the most irregular intervals, and he sneers at her in a way that Nancy's pretty sure translates, on Murray's tongue, to a colleague's respect. She tries not to lie. She's better at it, nowadays.

Nancy is hungry, has always been hungry. Has always been starving, one way or another, all the way back when she was twelve years old thirsting for adventure in the basement with her little brother, fifteen and ravenous for a challenge, an experience, the chance to grow up. She's choked on what she thought she wanted enough times that you'd think she'd learn by now. Mostly what it's done is toughen her teeth and teach her to chew.

She wants truth, and she can have it for herself, if she's good enough. If she doesn't try to force-feed it to the rest of the world too hard. She wants respect, she wants justice, she's selfish and selfless and hungry for all of it.

She wants to not be so afraid. She wants to not be so alone. She wants, sometimes, just once in a while, to be a little bit quiet and a little bit soft and rest.

It didn't work with Jonathan the same way it didn't work with Steve, or Liam, or Casey, or Diane. Nancy aches to be a little less alone, but she doesn't starve for it. Never once in her life has she been hungry for a person the way she's hungry for everything else. Never once in her life has she actually fallen in love back.

But Jonathan is at her front door again, because Jonathan is a yo-yo to all the people he's ever loved: backing off to give them time and space to grow, rocketing off into the world alone just for a little while, just as long as he can bear it, and then slinging himself back. Back to her again, this time.

Jonathan knows the score. Knows she loves him as much as she's ever loved anybody, other than Barb and Mike and her mother and Holly. And if it's not hunger -- if the closest Nancy has ever gotten to hunger for another person tends to happen in that oh-so-very, very discreet bar where Nancy can wear a perfectly-tailored suit and buy whiskey sours for girls in short skirts with no nightmares behind their eyes -- well, Nancy's never wanted most of them past the next morning anyway.

So sometimes Jonathan is on her couch and sometimes he's in her bed, and sometimes they fuck and sometimes all they do is sleep. When she needs a photojournalist, he's never once let her down. When she has nightmares, she wakes up just as terrified, but it's so much easier to pull herself together with someone to pull it together for. And Nancy Wheeler has never been in love, will never be in love, but she doesn't know what it could possibly have to offer that she could want more than that.

Does Nancy like her life? Wrong question. Stupid question. Better to ask if Nancy would have it any other way -- and well, yeah, she'd have a president who didn't sexually harass interns, a national defense budget that wasn't ten times the size of the department of education's, and a coffeemaker in the office that didn't get grounds in everything. She'd live in a world that didn't need her, find a new thing to be hungry about. Maybe she and Barb would both be on track for tenure by now.

In this world, she has half a dozen Pulitzer nominations and a Polk Award on her bookshelf. She has a locked filing cabinet full of other people's secrets and a locked safe full of her own. There's a file with her name on it somewhere in the Pentagon, although she hasn't managed to sneak in to read it yet. She's pretty sure the files on her desk about Pentagon staff are thicker.

#asked and answered #C writes stuff #the ST EU #Nancy Wheeler #yes this is part of one large extended universe #but I also stand by it as a general Nancy post-canon headcanon #let Nancy be aro and sort of gay and sort of ace and complicated about it #also let her choose to occasionally fuck boys about it anyway #:D #thank you for this prompt!#this was very much the push I needed

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seiya-starsniper · 11 months

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The Lament of Morpheus - Dreamling (AO3)

Rating: T | Status: Complete | Chapters 1/1 | Words: 2K

Tags: Whump, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Related, BAMF Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Deal with a Devil, quite literally too, Feelings Realization, Rescue Missions, Guilt, Hopeful Ending, Pre-Slash

Summary:

“We have a problem, Dream,” Death announces as she stomps into his realm, completely uninvited and unexpected. “Sister,” Dream startles, but quickly recovers. “I did not call for-” “Hob Gadling is in Hell.” Death interrupts him, “and I cannot get him out.”

Dream has to rescue Hob from Lucifer. Things do not go quite as planned.

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My third completed work for @dreamlingforukraine, thank you for your support @the-cloudy-dreamer! This was one of the most challenging things I've ever written but it was a lot of fun! Thanks again to @ferelden-loser, @gil212, and @lyriclorelei for being my betas as well! Love you guys💖💖

I'm accepting commissions in exchange for charity, see my Creator Post Here. Despite the naming convention, I'll accept both Dreamling and non-Dreamling commissions!

Edit: I'm no longer accepting commissions but please check out the blog to see who is!

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This fic is also being used for @dreamlingbingo's adoptable prompt "Whump" which replaces my square D1 - Atomic Bomb.

#dreamling #dream x hob #hob x morpheus #the sandman #sandman fanfic #seiya writes #I love angst can you tell?#seiya writes dreamling

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qiaipia · 10 months

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All Of The Girls You Loved Before — miguel o’hara

ミ★ Miguel tries to take a break but the world doesn’t let him!

ミCONTENT: miguel o’hara x GN! Reader. miguel’s past messy relationships. a really awkward elevator ride. let me know if i missed anything! based on that one scene in Grey’s Anatomy. No use of y/n. [1.3k wc]

Miguel O’Hara previously worked at the office of Spider Society full-time.

25/8.

Until of course, LYLA berated him for being too obsessed with the multiverse and never having a life outside of it, so he goes home on slow days.

Villains apparently had personal life matters to take into consideration when plotting nefarious doom, such as shopping at the local hardware for atom bomb parts, gynecologist meetings, or even just plain plotting evil. Whatever it is— they usually weren’t about to destroy the world on a Tuesday or Wednesday.

So come Thursday morning, he was refreshed from sleeping on a proper bed, with a proper breakfast and had a proper bath. He had coffee in one hand, and instead of diving into work as usual from his portable screens, he approached the main elevators to take in the glass paneling installed, giving a view of Nueva York’s lush greenery.

It was quiet. But he expected Spider-people and top scientists to start pouring in soon: for now, Miguel O’Hara steps into the elevator alone.

He even humors himself and doesn’t click the close button on the shaft immediately, taking Lyla’s advice— taking it easy.

That was until the fwip! of a distinct Spider-individual, yelling ‘HOLD IT OPEN PLEASE!’ came trodding in.

The webbing came first, and then a ‘you’ that propelled themselves forward into the shaft. He awkwardly shifts around as you catch your breath, squatting low.

Office hours started a little bit later, but you wanted to get an early start on all the paperwork you left behind.

You look up from your heaving position and make eye contact with the red eyes your boss-slash-fling-slash-the guy you didn’t text back because you weren’t quite sure you were over your ex (a Peter Parker) quite yet, but you wish you really didn’t ghost him because Miguel was such a nice person who you wanted but you just weren’t sure how committed you could be right now.

His gaze struck you, and you immediately stand up straight at the back of the elevator shaft as the door closes, avoiding his gaze.

Miguel was a bit surprised to see you at Spider-Society after a few weeks of no talk between you two. Not even a meme from you. He thought you had returned to your own universe.

A few beats pass and the door closes. He lets a few more beats pass before turning to you slightly.

“Your watch?”

You nearly jump at his gruff voice cutting through the soft hum of the elevator. “Huh?”

“Your watch— where is it?”

You looked at your expiring day pass, that you probably had to get a new one soon, lest you start glitching. “Oh, it’s in repair. Margo said it’ll be done in a week.” You mumble. You weren’t sure where you now stand with Miguel O’Hara.

The man stands up straighter. So you went to another person first to fix the watch he built and designed? He felt something thorny and green spike in his chest.

“Give me the watch. I’ll fix it within the day.” He says, facing forward, trying to hide his softening frame. He didn’t give you room to argue.

He didn’t play favorites, but he wanted you both to start talking again. More importantly: You’ve been staying in Nueva York and you’ve never come to visit him once?

But before he can try more small talk to clear the awkward air, the elevator stops at one of the human scientists’ floor levels.

In comes Xina Kwan. Head data engineer-slash- freelance programmer and computer scientist- slash- Miguel’s childhood best friend AND ex he cheated on, but was now working in the facility after Miguel called in a favor to crunch some numbers regarding multiverse probabilities.

Xina’s eyebrows raise at the sight of her ex, her black hair shaking as she tilts her head avoiding his gaze as well. Did things end well between them? Debatable.

It was too early for this shit.

She ducks her head as she reaches for her own floor. If Miguel could look closely at her shoulder, a version of LYLA in a Marilyn Monroe get up, hovered around her, giving Miguel the stink eye Xina couldn’t.

Miguel had to give it to the AI, he probably deserves the dirty look.

The ride is quiet and was now much more awkward for Miguel.

He tries to glance at Xina for a brief second, just to see how she was doing—but perhaps they were more alike than they thought, growing up together and whatnot. Xina too was attempting to steal a glance at him.

Their eyes meet awkwardly and they both look away, necks nearly snapping at the whiplash.

This of course was news to you, behind them, your brows furrowed in confusion at the pair.

The air was tense. You were eyeing Xina’s frameup and down, and LYLA Monroe was making detailed calculations and searches on you.

Miguel wished the elevators ran faster.

A few floors further up, the elevator dings open once more, and fate must be fucking with him because Dana D’Angelo waits outside.

She holds a stack of file folders with neatly coordinated labels, all well dressed, not a hair out of place so early in the morning.

She was likely on the way to the resident’s spider-therapists office, whom Miguel assigned to after the need for a competent clerk was needed in their department.

Of course, what he failed to detail was that Dana D’Angelo was his brother’s ex-girlfriend and his ex-fiancé- slash- the person he cheated on Xina with- slash- she cheated on him, with his biological father.

But that messy debacle was ages ago.

Still, he cringed internally, at the thought of her entering the elevator, but they made room for her anyways, her high purple heels clacking against the marble floor.

He had nothing to say about Dana, they closed their chapter amicably, along with a hefty divorce fee, but they were friends enough that Miguel helped her land a job at the society when the Daily Bugle office she front-desked for closed.

Miguel wanted to SCREAM. But he settles on running his fingers through his hair.

Side-eyes between Xina and Dana were given. You sensed how Dana subconsciously stepped and tilted her body towards Miguel. You all probably didn’t know you all worked in the same building as the facility was so big.

But of all days, why today?

The elevator ride up was painstaking. The uncomfortable air made it so that despite Miguel having no spider-senses whatsoever, he felt harsh tingles at the back of his neck.

His own version of LYLA in a fur coat popped on the corner of his eye, visible only to Miguel.

She took a good sweep at the group he was with and arranged her heart-shaped glasses with a low whistle shit-eating grin.

“I betcha’ wished you took the stairs right now.” She remarks teasingly.

He feels a migraine coming, and he wholeheartedly wishes he could shrink down and cease to exist.

“Cállate.” He hisses under his breath, with gritted teeth.

Apparently, even that wasn’t small enough as his voice cuts through the silence of the elevator, and the three turn their heads at him.

Confusion, concern, and chagrin.

Miguel really felt like he should’ve just got off at a random floor and taken the 50 or so flights up, rather than endure this torture, but a few floors before his supposed relief: his stop, the doors open once more, this one taking the cake.

The annoying visitor of the week: his brother, Gabriel O’Hara, stood on the other side of the doors, looking up from his phone as the lift opens.

He takes one good look at the passengers who stare back at him, and then at his brother with his own shit-eating grin and a waggle of his brows.

Fuck it. Miguel promises never to leave his office and never take it easy ever again.

I wrote this at 5am. I forgot abt it when I went to sleep, so I was very surprised to find a fic made in my notes. First fic abt the dorito man. Interactions are appreciated and feed the soul ig.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fluff #atsv #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099: atsv #spiderman 2099 #+MYWORK+#miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderverse x reader #miguel o'hara x gender neutral reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o hara #spiderverse x y/n

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