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periprose · 7 months

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Heyyy I’m literally playing through ps4 Spider-Man again 🤣!

I was wondering if I could request a ps4 fic, maybe Peter and reader have been dating for a while, and she gets hurt during the explosion and he can’t find her but she’s with may at feast with like a broken arm or something?? (She knows he’s Spider-Man) 👀🫶🏼

hey lol thanks for requesting! I'm on the first playthrough of the game myself. Basically this is set during the explosion at the election event in the game, and Peter and you are there to proudly watch Officer Davis accept his award.

"Hey." Peter comes up from behind you on the sidewalk, fixing wrinkles in his civilian clothes. He must've just changed.

"Hey, Parker." You nudge him. "Ready to go watch Osborn smooch up to the well-meaning audience of Manhattan?"

"Well, ready as I'll ever be." Peter takes your hand. "I'm really just there to watch Davis get his well-deserving award, y'know. Hey, didn't I tell you to stop calling me Parker?"

"Meh, you love it." You joke. "You'll always be Parker to me, even if you are my boyfriend now. It's our thing."

Peter shakes his head, but you know based on his little smile- he loves that you have a little thing just for him.

Together, you walk to the intersection in front of City Hall, where many people crowd around, waiting for Mayor Osborn and whatever speech he's about to give today. They're all dressed in Osborn themed merchandise, cheering and clapping.

You can't believe this many people care about Osborn's so-called promises to the city- you and Peter are really hoping he won't be re-elected this term after all- but people are clapping for him, and you sigh knowing that your cost of living is about to go up.

"Hey. Wipe that frown off your face. We're here to be supportive." Peter whispers from next to you in the crowd, and you nod.

"Where's Davis? Is that him?" You whisper back, pointing to an older black man up on the stage.

"Yup. You wouldn't believe it, he was so helpful in Hell's Kitchen. Dude whipped out his gun and had my back like we've been best buds for years." Peter smiles. "There's not many out there doing it like him."

"He sounds like a real treasure. I'm glad you have someone on your side." You squeeze Peter's hand, and continue to look up towards the stage in mild excitement.

You don't really care for Osborn's speech- Peter laughs about his promise to open up technology for NYC when you both know that's reserved for the elite- but you both grin when Davis, looking nervous as ever, walks up the stage to receive his award.

"It is my privilege to present Officer Jefferson Davis with the Department Medal of Honour." Osborn hangs a medal around Davis' neck, and you and Peter clap.

"I'm so glad this is all over. The gang war, I think." Peter whispers to you, and you raise your eyebrows.

"Really? Does this mean you'll finally be a little safer?" You ask, but Peter frowns a little.

"Well, there's some loose ends still to be tied up, but-"

"Loose ends?" You give him a wary glance. "Like what?"

"Like whatever 'Consolidated Shipping' is. It doesn't make sense." Peter sighs, watching concern grow on your face. "It's not right, but I'll figure it out."

Davis says a few words- he thanks his wife and his son, Miles, who you can see is sitting up at the front of the stage.

"Aw, cute kid." You remark to Peter, and he nods, gaining a slightly sheepish smile.

"Officer Davis did say I remind him of his son. I'll take it as a compliment." Peter jokes, and you snicker, calling him even more of a baby.

Behind you, Sable guards are talking on their walkie talkies about "keeping eyes on Osborn," which to you sounds as if they perceive a threat. You turn back to tell Peter, when he suddenly flinches.

"Peter-?"

He grabs his head, panicking- you watch as his pupils dilate, and he's clearly in some kind of shock.

"Everything feels off-" Peter flinches again, and you know he's having a Spider-Sense meltdown. There must be multiple things happening at once- even worse, you're not sure what he's supposed to do in this situation. He's not suited up, and he risks revealing his identity if he does anything.

Either way, Peter runs behind you. He shoves people out of the way, trying to get to the back of the event, behind the audience, but he's not fast enough. There are men arriving out of cars- corrupted men, turning that strange grey-blue-transparent hue that confirms their connection with Martin Li.

Peter runs- he dashes- but you see him flinch again, cowering under such threatening energy. He turns to the stage in horror, and you gasp in shock.

There's another corrupted on stage, covered in explosive devices.

An explosion goes off behind you, to the right of you, than another massive one on stage- the ground shakes beneath you, and you're too in shock to move.

"Get down!" Peter shoves you back, attempting to push you out of the way, just as another two explosions cause the earth under you to rattle, and you lose your footing and fall back on the pavement. You twist your arm unnaturally and hit your head.

You black out, the last thing you see being massive blue-black explosions in the sky.

Peter wakes to floating ash in the sky.

He coughs- there's a sharp pain in his right side, and a slight ache at the top of his hairline- he touches his forehead and pulls his fingers away to see brown-red, dry blood.

It doesn't matter. He'll heal faster than most, anyways- he needs to locate you.

He gets up, seizes a little due to the pain- and to his alarm, you're nowhere in his near sight. He walks around seeing Sable guards help people off the streets- although Peter really thinks they're poking and prodding and shoving them away, so they can clean up the mess around here.

He hopes you haven't been taken away by Sable guards.

Peter rushes to the nearest clinic- but there's too many people crowding around there with their injuries, and the receptionist at the emergency room tells him there's no one by your name here.

He begins to panic. You're not responding to his calls, either. Peter doesn't want to believe the worst could've happened to you, but he does hear people talking on the streets about the casualties. Apparently at least 10 people have been found dead so far- Peter starts swearing under his breath.

He decides to head to FEAST- he's not sure if you'll be there, but it's better to ask Aunt May or some of the volunteers if you've been seen. FEAST also operates as an emergency medical clinic, too, even with limited supplies, and it's with this small amount of hope that Peter travels there.

Pushing through the doors, the front desk woman- Amanda- she's startled by how intensely Peter asks about you.

"I don't know, Peter." She points to the main auditorium, where many homeless and injured people are currently being attended to. "It's kind of an open house back here- you're going to have to look through the crowds."

Peter sighs. "Thanks, Amanda."

It takes him about fifteen minutes to do a full, quick walkthrough. The entire time, his heartbeat thumps faster as he realizes- he's not seeing you anywhere. There's nobody wearing your trademark scarf, your usual dark blue jeans- nobody with your fastidious expression, where you always seem to take in the entire world before speaking- nobody to relieve the steady ache in his heart.

Peter walks into the room full of medical supplies, expecting to see Aunt May- and while May is there, busy with another volunteer, the first thing he sees is you, with your hair all disheveled and messy, bruises on your cheek and a cut under your lip, and your arm wrapped in a cast and a sling.

But you have a soft, comforting smile. You're kneeling down to help a little girl- she can't be older than five- and you're placing a bandage on her knee. And the little girl squeals, hugging you after you say "It's all better now."

Peter would agree with that.

You look up, arms still embraced around the little girl- Rina is her name- to see Peter, looking wistful, sad, a clear lump in his throat. His eyes are watery.

"Peter?" You watch as he comes forward.

"I thought you were- I thought..." He wipes his eyes. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Well, Little Rina over here needed a little bit of medical attention." You kindly tap her shoulder and she nods up at Peter, smiling. "She tripped and fell and no one was paying attention to her knee, so I decided to help her."

"That's..." Peter trails off, wondering how you could be so selfless when your own face was looking a bit worse for wear. "That's sweet of you to do. How do you feel, kiddo?"

He kneels towards her, and she grins really big. "Better!"

"Alright, high five then." Peter high fives her, and she dashes off afterwards, most likely looking for the parent she came with.

"Why didn't you respond to my calls?" Peter asks you as soon as you turn back to him. "I thought... I thought the worst had happened-"

"Peter, please. Stop with the wounded ego." May calls him out, listening from the sidelines. "What's important is that she's safe and in one piece- that's more than enough to feel grateful about."

Peter looks down, ashamed. He knows May is right, and he has to swallow his pride for a moment.

"I'm sorry, Peter." You grasp his hand, and he looks back at you, jaw tight as he listens. "I didn't mean to not answer your calls- my phone got shattered. And I didn't know where to find you after I woke up- I was already being taken away by Sable guards to 'safety' and then I decided my best chance to find you was over here."

"Oh." Peter feels kind of dumb, but he also feels glad you think of FEAST as a spot to find him. "I should've kept you safe."

"Don't. Don't make yourself crazy with what you could've done." You plead with him, and he sighs but shakes his head. "My arm will heal with time. I guess I landed on it weirdly and broke it."

Peter winces. "Well, you can always ask me for help if it bothers you. I'm there for you."

He traces your lip, where the cut under is still a red-brown, harsh hue in comparison to the pink of your bottom lip, and May takes this as her cue to leave.

Peter snorts. "I wish you had my-"

"Super healing? Yeah, I wish that too." You laugh. "Were you lucky enough to not get hit, or did you just heal on the way here?"

Peter's reaching for a facial bandage and some rubbing alcohol. "The latter."

"Ugh, lucky bastard." You smile up at him, cringing only slightly as Peter rubs away the blood from your wound. "I'm just glad that means I don't have to worry too much about you."

"You still do." Peter remarks, placing the bandage on your face. "But that just means you love me."

And, being ever so thankful that you're safely back in his arms, Peter places a soft kiss on your forehead, and then a slightly-less-soft one on your mouth, hoping it doesn't hurt you, but happy that you kiss him back anyways.

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whaliiwatching · 9 months

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a taste of hannibal, a touch of megamind, a shot of venom (pours the whole damn bottle)

i love venom (2018) a lot, it’s my go-to movie when i’m bored or sad, i have seen it many many times. i saw it again a week or so ago with a bud and finally had the opportunity to pen down this lovely au i’ve been thinkin bout

i’ve got a much more fleshed out sketch of how this au plays out. not sure if i’ll write it yet

anyway some bullet points

noir (called, ofc, noir) arrives on earth-138 in the 1920s. his first host is robbie and they basically go through the venom movie, where noir slowly learns to love earth and humanity and all that jazz. up until the 50s or so they’re an investigative reporter and occasionally a scary vigilante superhero!

when robbie is killed (not ewaf style. i forbid it), it fucking devastates noir and he host-hops for a bit, doing fun anarchy things to keep up robbie’s legacy but also losing a few morals here and there. he can do a little murder and eat nazis as a treat

the symbiotes arrive en masse and osborn infects humans with them to turn into his fascist riot police army

through vampire-hunting-esque shenanigans, hobie and noir meet, and strike up a tenuous truce to fight the government. hobie does not like him at first, but noir very much does ;)

cue a slow burn gothic romance between a freedom fighter and a devoted monster <3

#spider man: across the spider verse #spider punk #spider noir #hobie brown #noirpunk #theyre not spiderpeople in this au lol #the issue is i can write horror but i cant draw it lhkjdsf #which is why the Funnies #and the goddamn megamind scene. which somehow perfectly fits #see the fun part about it is that noir has to always be connected to hobie in order to survive #so we have Monster Who is Recklessly Devoted to Host and Host Who is Not Into This #noir’s hat and general look come from his assimilation to humanity over the last fifty or so years. hes not like other symbiotes #hes quirky. he wears a fedora. you ever seen him without that stupid hat on that’s WEIRD #two stupid old jokes in one! i like it #anyway yeah monster noir for the win #thanks discord! yall made me rework this entirely just to make it more fucked up horror <3

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ladykailitha · 1 year

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If I Rescue You, Will You Rescue Me, Too? Part 1

Since I am in the middle of a poll about how to end “Can Anybody See Me?” (which you can vote on here) I am putting it on pause until it finishes on Saturday. I’ll still be working on it, I just won’t be posting until after it’s done. (Which if it keeps going like it is, end of season 4).

This story started out as a beautiful (and SHORT) story about Steve taking Eddie to the Ozzy Osborne/Metalica concert and turned into a full on season 4 fix-it (it’s 6000+ and counting *wails*).

Summary: Steve realizes after the aftermath of Vecna that he’s in love with Eddie. When he finds out that he was trying to get enough money to get to the Ozzy Osborne/Metallica concert in Indy in a week, he decides to woo Eddie via the most important concert of Eddie’s young life.

Things had gotten a little hairy when the demobats tried to break through the vents of the trailer. Eddie looked up at the sheet ladder and then back out at the sounds of screeching and scrambling as the bats fought to get to him and Dustin.

He knew they had no way to close the gate on the other side. That once the bats got into the trailer the wide world of Hawkins would be next. They would be next. He sighed. He knew what he had to do. With a heavy heart and broad swipe of his spear he cut the ladder.

Eddie zipped up his jacket and grabbed his shield and spear. He led the demobats away on one of the bikes. Got pretty damn far before the tire hit a divot in the hell space known as the Upside-Down. He rolled into the dirt and tried to get up. The shield and spear tangled together making it hard to stand. Once he was able to get to his feet he roared at the bats.

Eddie was able to stand his ground for a while but he started to wear out. He wasn’t sure he could last much longer. What was taking them so long?

And then it happened the swarm came at him full force and he was knocked to the ground. He brought up his hands and knees trying to protect as much of his body as he could. But they were relentless. Just when he thought all hope was gone, suddenly the bats fell.

The air was filled with screaming of a different kind now and it sounded like his name.

He brought down his arms and looked up to see Dustin kneeling over him crying.

“Hey, bud,” Eddie whispered. “I’m fine.”

“Why would you do that?” Dustin screamed. “Why?”

Eddie reached out and cupped his cheek. “Because they were breaking through. They were going to get you.”

“We could have fought them together,” Dustin choked out.

Eddie shook his head. “Steve would have killed me if you got hurt.”

“Damn right I would have,” Steve said.

Dustin stood up, whirling around to face him. “Steve! Eddie’s hurt!”

Steve rushed over and immediately pulled out the first aid kit they bought when they got their other supplies.

“What did I tell you about not being a hero, Munson?” Steve growled as he pulled out bottled water and gauze.

“Dustin...” Eddie gurgled.

Steve looked up at his face and swore. “Shit! They got you good.” He set down the gauze and pulled out a large cotton pad and pressed it to Eddie’s neck.

“Dustin,” Steve snapped, “We need to find a way to transport him. Are you able to do that for me?”

Dustin nodded and immediately got on the bike Eddie had biffed on. The front tire was a bit wobbly but it would do in a pinch.

Robin and Nancy came running up. Robin skidded to a stop and turned away, suddenly ill. Nancy was at Steve’s side in an instant.

“Hold down the pad,” Steve bit out. “I need it in place so I can wrap it.”

She nodded and took over holding the pad to the bleeding coming from Eddie’s neck. Steve quickly wrapped the gauze around it and then unzipped the jacket.

Eddie coughed. “Take me out to dinner first, jeez, Harrington.”

“Shut up, shut up,” Steve murmured. “Just please shut up for once in your god damned life. So I can save it.”

Eddie smiled, showing blood on his teeth.

“Fuck!” Steve cursed. “I hope you didn’t like this jacket, man. It’s pretty much gone at this point.”

The demobats had shredded the jacket’s sleeves and even one or two had gotten past the many layers Eddie had on. But the bites were shallow. Not like Steve’s.

His legs were a bit worse for wear too.

Just then Dustin had come back with a metal covering that they had used to shore up the trailer, dragging behind the bike.

Steve looked up and smiled. “Good job, Dusty!” He turned to his best friend. “Robin!”

She glanced at Eddie and then turned her head up so she wasn’t looking at him directly. “He’s bad, Steve.”

“I know, but I need all four of us to carry him,” he explained softly. “Can you do that for me?”

She looked him in the eye. “Yeah. For Eddie.”

They managed to get him on the makeshift stretcher and Nancy stepped up to grab one of the corners.

Steve held out his hand. “Wait! We need to keep it as level as possible. Dustin you take that corner. Nancy you go out in front and find us the safest path.”

Nancy opened her mouth to protest but she knew he was right. She was much shorter than the rest of them and it would only hurt Eddie more.

“Why can’t we just drag him behind the bike?” Dustin asked, still doing what he was told.

“Because we need to move fast but smooth,” Steve said. “Everyone at three, lift. One, two, three!” They all lifted together.

“The bike would be smooth,” Dustin protested.

“Not for Eddie,” Steve said. “Now, move.”

They walked as fast as they could to the nearest gate. Which unfortunately was the Lover’s Lake gate.

Steve stopped in front of the gate and closed his eyes tightly. “Right, Eds,” he murmured. “This is where you get off the ride.”

Eddie made a sound that vaguely resembled a chuckle.

“How are we going to get him through the gate?” Robin asked, shifting nervously from side to side.

“You and Nancy are going to go up first and get the boat,” Steve explained. “Then Dustin will swim to the surface. He’ll come get me once you two are in place.”

“Where is this coming from?” Nancy asked. “I thought you weren’t the planning type.”

Steve took a deep breath and pretended that didn’t hurt.

“No, no,” Robin said waving her hands. “He’s good at emergency shit like this. Like, really good.”

“It’s all the first aid training,” Steve said tamping down on the anger that threatened to rise to the surface. “Now go. I’ll send Dustin up in ten minutes.”

Dustin looked down at Eddie. “Ten minutes is too long, Steve.”

Steve grabbed Dustin’s arms. “It’ll be enough. I’m not going to let him die on us, I promise.”

Dustin nodded and watched as Robin and Nancy dove through the gate.

Ten minutes later Dustin did too. About a minute after that, Dustin was back to help Steve bring Eddie back to the surface.

They struggled but were able to get Eddie onto the boat. Once they got to shore they were able to call for an ambulance.

The four of them watched as Eddie was taken to the hospital.

Steve took a deep breath. “Right. We need to clean up and get to the hospital.”

“No.”

Steve looked at Nancy. “There is an ambulance coming for you, too. I want those bites looked at by professional.”

Steve wanted to argue but as the adrenaline wore off, he swayed on his feet.

Robin caught him before he fell. “We’ll call...” she stopped. There wasn’t anyone for her to call. Not for Steve. The people that would care were all here.

“Wayne Munson,” Nancy finished. “Let him know Eddie’s at the hospital from an animal attack. We’ll also radio the party and all meet up at the hospital.”

Distantly he could here the sounds of the sirens coming for him before his world went black.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Permanent Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @itsall-taken @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #season 4 fix it #ladykailtiha writes

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bumpkinspice0 · 10 months

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Parallels Chapter 5

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader

No use of y/n

Rating: Explicit (Minors DNI!!)

Word Count: 5969

Summary: An anomaly finally makes her way into you dimension and that comes with more than you thought.

Warnings: Canon typical violence (No blood or anything), un-beta'd as hell, S M U T, fingering, Tension, P n V sex (make sure you wrap it before you tap it folks), Praise kink, multiple orgasms, Miguel doesn't use stairs, don't look at me. Small note: I'm making a taglist for this fic! Just comment or message if you want to be added or just interact with this post!

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Series Masterlist

AO3

Chapter 5

Fury

Nothing compared to the highest rooftops of New York in the dead of night. Serenity and stillness above the constantly bustling chaos just below— The perfect hiding spot and vantage point. There was so much happening on the ground that people never bothered to look up all that much. Well, maybe they did a little more since you came into the picture.

It was a long journey but you eventually won the hearts of your fellow citizens. After years of fighting it couldn’t be denied that you were only here to help, despite what the Daily Bugle preached every Sunday.

“All units be advised,” the comm crackles in your ear. “Disturbance in Washington Square Park. Suspect reported to be superhuman.”

The largest victory in the past few years was probably getting the cops to finally trust you. Well, trust was a strong word. You could finally get in and fight a threat without having to worry about dodging gunfire or a helicopter chase afterward. The city's precincts were a good mix of welcoming your help with open arms or begrudgingly working with you. Still, it was better than what it had been.

Regardless, the NYPD were your eyes all over the city and you were the last call they hoped they’d never have to make.

“Call in the spider.”

That’s your cue— and you were finally close for once. Washington Square Park. No more than 5 minutes as the spider swings. You jump from your perch by the river and start making your way there. As you swing more reports come in.

“Suspect armed and dangerous. Explosives used.”

“Immediate area evacuated.”

“Suspect is airborne. Repeat, suspect is airborne. He’s got wings, fella’s.”

Oh, this was ramping up to be a really good night, but the next report nearly sends you tumbling.

“I don’t believe it– it’s— the Goblin. It’s the Green Goblin.”

Norman? No, he’d been dead for years. Killed by his own machines. This had to be a sadistic follower. A copycat. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d dealt with someone following in the footsteps of one of your mortal enemies.

Just another fun perk to this job.

You swing past the police barrier, landing in the circular concrete center of the deserted park. It was completely dark. They must have taken out all the street lamps. You couldn’t hear that god-awful maniacal laughter, but you smelled the residue from that stupid glider. The chemicals from some pumpkin bombs too. They were close, and they’d likely seen you swing in.

“Here, Goblin, Goblin, Goblin,” you taunt as you circle the center fountain. “If you come out we can play nice and maybe talk about our feelings.”

“ Spider-Girl , ” And there was that horrible, scratchy voice only someone with diagnosed insanity would think is cool. It definitely didn’t belong to Norman Osborn, though. You turn in its direction, only greeted with the sight of dark looming trees. “ Love the new suit. ”

“Oh, this old thing,” you mockingly bash, scanning the grassy area, “Just had it lying around, ya know. Not sure it’s really me though.”

“ Where am I? ” the faceless voice sneers, “ It was daytime. I was flying, then— You. You did this, didn’t you? ”

They were agitated— likely manic and confused, how could they not be if they’d somehow gotten their hands on the Goblin formula. You were the only target they had, and they likely hated you before all of this happened. You opt for the negotiating route.

“Look, buddy. We don’t have to fight,” You slowly raise your hands as a small peace offering, “If you’re confused, we can just—”

The figure bursts from the darkness, grabbing you by the throat and soaring into the night air. So much for negotiating. As you fly past the surrounding skyline you finally get a good look at your villain.

This goblin was a woman— with the most comically ridiculous pointed goblin ears you’d ever seen. She didn’t ride a proper glider but surfed on what looked more like a rocket. She wore head-to-toe metallic purple with some basic armoring around her mid-section and shoulders. All of her gear was clearly professionally made.

But there was something else about her. A faint aura. The way her body moved. The lines of her sadistic face— Something not of this world.

She was an anomaly.

Of course, how did you not think of it before? The one night you didn't wear your watch. It would have alerted you right away. You’d never had an anomaly enter your dimension before. Every one of them you’d faced up until the point was in someone else’s world. Other dimensions already felt so strange and off-kilter to you, you never stopped to think about how truly out of place the anomalies were. They all looked alien when the entire world was alien.

But this was your neck of the woods. This was your home and she was just so clearly not part of it.

“ How did you do this? ” she steadies her glider and holds you out over empty air.

“Would you believe me if I said this wasn’t your dimension?” You wheeze out in her grasp.

Through some divine comedic timing, she glitches. As her hand phases between worlds, you fall from her grasp. You tumble a few dozen feet before catching yourself on a building. Clinging to the brick, you look back up at your new goblin assailant.

The glitching comes to a shaky stop and she steadies herself on her rocket glider again. She takes a small moment to look down at her hands, a wave of shock overtaking her green face before it settles into fiendish joy.

“ So... I can travel between dimensions? ” she says more to herself than to you.

“ Travel is a strong word,” You get her attention.

She looks at you, “ You’re not my Spider-Girl? ”

“It’s Spider -Woman, actually.” you ready yourself to pounce at any moment.

“ How many of you are there? ” She asks, anger dotting her words.

“Oh yeah sure, just let me just give you a quick overview of the multiverse,” Without giving her time to react you shoot a web to the tip of her rocket glider, thrusting it off kilter in one motion. She goes flying. You jump after her, “That’s a terrible glider design by the way.”

“ Insolent brat! ” She screams, reaching out her hand. You reach for her, only to instantly be met with open air as she’s swept away by the glider. She can summon her dumb rocket- surfboard.

Of course.

You bank to her right, shooting web to at least immobilize her hands. Any web that gets near her is immediately slashed by blades now protruding from her wrists. You aim for her glider again, but she easily bobs and weaves past all of your shots now that she knows what to expect. She was better on that thing than you thought.

You jump, sticking yourself to the underside of the rocket glider. If you can’t stop her, then you’ll just have to dance with her.

“ You think you're a match for the Goblin QUEEN? ” She sneers, whipping around wildly to fling you off.

“Oh, apologies, your majesty. ” You rip off a panel of the flying device, grabbing at any cables and wiring you can, “I didn’t realize I was in the presence of royalty.”

She grunts in frustration, whipping you to the left and slamming you into the nearest building. In the midst of the searing impact, you lose your grip on her.

“ Pathetic.” She swings around to hover in front of you, “ You’re not my Spider, but you’ll do for now. ” She barrels toward you at full force, a massive blade unsheathing from the front of her glider. Without time to jump, you catch her glider— holding her at arm's length while the blade extends out to mere inches from your face.

The brick around you cracks and crumbles as the full force of her glider pushes down on you.

“ I’ll kill you, then I’ll harness this power and kill ALL of you,” Oh great, she was monologging , “ Every Spider, dead by my hands. This is what I was born to do!”

“M-might wanna check that ego, lady!” you grunt, hiking up your feet to push back on the body of her glider. It was awkward but you had the leverage— you just don’t know how long you can hold it.

You kick your legs up, using her own force against her, and send her spiraling backward. You immediately get out of your cornered position and head back towards the open park. If she was covered in knives and reportedly using explosives, best to keep her away from any buildings. Make her focus all of her attention on you. You stand in the center circle again as she hovers overhead.

“ You can’t run, Spider-Woman, ” She taunts, “ And you can’t win .”

You don’t time have for a witty remark before she’s charging at you again, her glider's blade front and center.

You’re about to act when a bassy boom crackles and rips through the air, giving you both pause.

Then you feel it— A buzzing at the base of your skull.

Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding.

The portal forms just to your right. His webs appear first, red treads shooting from the golden light. They latch onto her glider. The Goblin, shocked, attempts to correct her course, pulling Miguel the rest of the way out of the portal with her. He stands strong, several strands of webs in each hand. He whips his lassos downward, sending her flying off the glider. Before she can summon it back he whips his arms again, redirecting it straight into the ground. It explodes instantly.

He drops the webbing and shakes off his shoulders. He turns to you, sleek mask obscuring his face. He was here. He was actually here.

“Uh, Thanks,” You say, “Was trying to get her off that stupid thing for like 10 minutes now.”

“Don’t mention it,” Though you can’t see it, you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Two of you now? ” your assailant broods from the shadows. You and Miguel immediately stand back to back at the sound of her voice, “ No matter, you’ve stopped nothing. You can’t stop Fury. You can’t stop destiny. ”

“Oh, she’s a monologuer,” Miguel scoffs.

“Mhm, she’s already vowed to kill all of spider-kind.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” he tuts back.

“Are all of you always so arrogant?” She sneers.

“Pretty much,” You answer.

What happens next you still can’t fully articulate. It was a matter of milliseconds, yet it felt as if the world moved at half its normal speed.

You feel it before you see or hear it. She throws three pumpkin bombs. Before the devices even leave her hands you know exactly what direction they're coming from in the darkness— And seemingly so does Miguel. You move together in perfect unison, dodging the explosives as they implode on the ground. She starts circling the two of you, throwing bomb after bomb. Still, not one touches you. Here in a complete darkness, it’s like you could feel every move she was going to make.

“Damned Spiders,” She grunts in frustration as she throws another pumpkin bomb into the concrete clearing. This one doesn’t explode on impact though. You and Miguel pause.

“Smoke!” He shouts, just a second too late. Pink gas explodes from the device. You’re able to escape only after having gotten a lung full of the nasty stuff. You cough and wheeze, barely able to swing to safety in the sparse trees. Miguel is nowhere to be seen, but you can sense him nearby. Maybe this spider-sense thing was coming in handy for once.

Goblin laughter from behind sends a shiver up your spine. You turn to see her perched in an oak tree. Just a few yards beyond her, a broad figure lurks in the settling pink mist. To catch this one, you had to be smarter. You’d have to lure her in— and part of you thinks Miguel has the same idea.

“Not bad, for a Psychopath,” you dust your legs off.

“ I think you mean visionary ,” She croons. “ You and your brutish Spider-man are no match for- ”

“Say’s the lady with no ride and a quickly dwindling supply of Spirit Halloween props.” You glance over and Miguel crouches down to all fours— Ready to pounce at exactly the right moment. Her guard is still up, if he jumped now he’d be met with a grenade directly to the face. You could distract her. Get all of her attention on you again. She obviously liked to talk, so…

“How do you even become Queen of the Goblins ?” You ask, leaning against a tree. “Is there a king? Is it David Bowie?!”

“ Silence! ” She screams. When in doubt, always go for the ego with super villains, “ I was chosen by Norman Osborn. Chosen at birth and raised for this purpose. ”

“Norman Osborn is dead.” you sneer, “And he certainly isn’t bestowing his messed up legacy on babies.”

“ In your reality, maybe. In mine, he’s a god, ” She crouches down, “ But you’ve opened my eyes to the possibilities, dear. Osborn lives, somewhere out there. I’ll find him. I’ll rally the goblins and we’ll finally kill you all.”

“Norman Osborn is dead ,” You repeat, “He always dies. Always . And it’s always a Spider standing over him.”

“ Not anymore.” You see her face contort in anger. Attacking her goblin cult leader must be the way to go.

“You know why?” You step toward her, “Because he’s weak.”

“Shut. Your. Mouth. ”

“Just a weak, pathetic, ordinary , man.”

“ Shut up! ”

You ready yourself, “Make me.”

She barely gets a foot off her branch before Miguel pounces from behind. All in an instant, he grabs her, pinning her arms to her chest— a portal forms above you, and Miguel, Goblin Queen in hand, fly’s through it.

It blips closed before you can follow. You instinctively reach for your watch, only to realize again you did wear it tonight. Of course, that’d make everything too easy. Why would you wear it if you weren’t planning on an interdimensional battle tonight? A mistake, you assure yourself, you’ll never make again.

The brief thought of hurrying directly home and following Miguel flashes through your mind. Even if you could somehow get back to your Brooklyn apartment in a matter of minutes, you still had other duties to attend to. The sound of several officers entering the park brings you back to reality. Miguel was a pro— he could handle it from here. You needed to let your people know the situation was taken care of.

You speak with the Sargent and Captain at the scene, spinning some lie about her being a deranged follower and one of her bombs malfunctioning, and vaporizing her instantly. It was absolutely ridiculous but they trusted you to never lead them astray. Better to lie here than release the secret of access to the multiverse. The threat to your city was gone. That’s all that mattered.

You, fortunately, manage to escape a press statement this time, regretfully leaving that task up to Captain Stacy. He was better with the cameras than you were anyway.

It’s nearly 3 a.m. when you finally get back home, sneaking into the building through your rooftop perch. Honestly, it’s an earlier night than most. Your back aches from being slammed into a brick wall and your head is still spinning from whiplash. A hot shower and your bed sounded like paradise.

Your building was an old warehouse renovated sometime in the 2000s. It used to be a massive bakery. You swear you can still smell freshly baked bread in the bricks some 20 years later. You fucking loved your apartment. Vaulted ceilings, massive industrial windows, and a lofted bedroom. You were able to afford it out of sheer luck.

Some business tycoon's daughter was kidnaped. When you returned her safely he handed you a briefcase with hundreds of thousands in cash, refusing to take no for an answer. You felt dirty taking it but you were flat broke since starting college and the medical bills from your nightly activities were piling up. You were younger then— and desperate.

Jack seemed amazed you were even feeling remorse for it at the time.

“You’ve saved this city how many times?!” he’d scold you. “I think you can have something for almost dying for the people of this town on a bi-weekly basis.”

Part of you agreed and part of you felt you were straying from the path— whatever that meant. Jack begged you to get something nice for yourself— so, you got this place and vowed never to take money for your job ever again. You fell in love as soon as you saw it. Your safe haven. Spider HQ, as Jack affectionately called it.

Miguel had an entire tower, you could have more than a shoebox apartment.

He was probably back at the tower now. You grab your watch and check the villain logs. Lyla kept a detailed list of who’d been captured and where. And there she was, right at the top.

Fury the Goblin Queen: Earth-982

Status- Captured: Earth-727 at 2200 hours

He handled it. Nothing else to worry about. You let out a heavy sigh and peal off your suit, sports bra, and underwear. A scorching hot shower and some ibuprofen were calling your name.

You’re about to climb the steps to your bathroom when you feel a slight tremble in the walls along with a buzzing in your head.

Again? Right now? You’re suddenly very aware of your complete nakedness and quickly grab one of your long abandoned t-shirts from a kitchen stool to cover up with. The baggy shirt barely brushed the tops of your thighs but it’ll have to do.

The golden portal formed in your living room, a still fully suited Miguel emerging from it. It closes behind him with a deep rumble.

“Thanks for waking all my neighbors up,” you pinch the bridge of your nose.

His mask fades away, revealing that stupid handsome face, “You didn’t follow.” he simply says.

“Didn’t have my watch. I won’t happen again.”

“You didn’t check in, either.”

“Didn’t think I needed to,” you groan, rubbing the back of your stinging neck, “I just got home after defusing the scene for 2 hours. Sorry if it slipped my mind.” The last part comes out more bitchy than you intend but you were fucking tired. And he comes to your home— To what? Berate you about protocol? Fuck off.

“Sorry, just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He says, earnestly. Okay, well now you do feel a little bit like a bitch.

He could have just called or asked Lyla to check up on you, be he came himself. He was here, in your apartment. The realization makes your spider sense spike.

He’s here and you're both alone.

“I’ve… never fought with you before,” He says, relaxing his posture, “You did good.”

“You too,” you say passively. You lean against the kitchen counter, letting the following silence linger into uncomfortable territory. What else was there to say? He came to make sure you were okay, the villains locked up and your dimension isn’t crumbling. Still, that dreaded sixth sense pulled at you to keep him here. Just a little longer, “Has it ever felt like that before?” you finally ask.

“Has what?” he furrows his eyebrows.

“Fighting… with another spider,” You clarify, “When we were in the clearing— When she was throwing the bombs. The way we moved, it felt so—”

“Instinctual,” He finishes, taking a step toward you. “No, it’s never felt that way. It’s like you knew what to do. Like you knew what I was thinking.”

“Yeah,” You shy away from his gaze. You suddenly feel the gravity of it all. While you were grateful for the benefits of the spider sense, something was wrong with you. With both of you. This wasn’t a normal spider-sense. Whatever this was, was like a brick through the window of your daily life. Something was triggered in you, and you couldn’t turn it off. Now you’ll probably never be normal again— not that you really were before.

Everything felt perfect before. The city finally accepted you, a new job you were proud of, and new friends just like you. People that could understand in a way no one else could. You’d found a balance and a new passion for being Spider-Woman. Now, for the first time in years, you cursed your abilities. You doubted yourself. An outsider again, even amongst your own kind.

“Hey.” Miguel’s voice brings you out of the spiral. He’s standing directly in front of you. When did he get so close? “You okay, little spider?”

The nickname makes your cheeks flush.

“Yeah, I—” You stop yourself from rambling, bringing your hand up to your cheek “This is kinda fucked up, isn’t it? You and me?”

He snorts a small laugh, “Yeah, kinda.”

“Whatta we supposed to do, Miguel?” you ask yourself, more than him. Even if his test showed something, then what? Just learn to live with it, you suppose.

“Business as usual,” He reiterates from the other day in his room. Why did business as usual feel so difficult then? You’re not even sure what that means around him. A silence stirs between you two again, but this time you feel something building. Your mind screams at you to touch him. To let him take control and ravish you. You squeeze your legs together, doing your best to hide it even though it’s no use. If you felt it, he felt it too.

“I should go.” He finally says, voice barely above a whisper.

“Sure,” you nod. Neither of you moves. You see the hunger behind his brilliant red eyes.

You hesitantly reach out, running a hand up his broad chest. You needed something— Just a little of him. His breath hitches at the contact but he doesn’t shy away. His suit’s technology ripples in the wake of your touch, illuminating and fading away to show the rich, tan skin underneath— before phasing back in an instant. He grabs your wrist, halting your movement at his stomach. You can feel his heart rate rising under your touch.

He pulls you in, lips crashing in a frenzy of movement. You throw your arms over his shoulders as he pins you against the kitchen counter. His arms cage you in as his massive body overwhelms you.

Every move you make is feverish and desperate, begging for more of him. His tongue selfishly delves into your mouth and you moan at the taste of him. The sensation sends your head reeling. He bites at your lower lip before ghosting down to your neck. He was hungry— so were you.

Your head is spinning. All your pain and exhaustion now completely forgotten and replaced with pure, unbridled lust. The connection screams in gratitude, finally getting what it wanted.

“Miguel,” You sigh into his hair, as he leaves a trail of hickeys down your shoulder.

“I know,” He moans without halting his work, “ Lo sé. Yo también lo siento. ”

His bare hand snakes up your leg and hitches around the hem of your t-shirt. He pauses when he feels nothing else there.

“How scandalous.” He smiles against your skin, running his calloused hand across your bare hips. You shiver in response, suddenly unable to articulate language. He cradles your head with his other hand as he buries his nose in your hair, “Oh god, you smell so—you’re so—”

He runs his open hand over your bare cunt. You gasp and arch into him, rolling your hips over his fingers. Greedily rocking back and forth against his rough hand, you coat his fingers with your growing arousal. He moves his hand gingerly as you do so. He gently runs his middle finger along your seam before thrusting it inside.

You swing your head back with a moan, clawing at his shoulders. He takes the opportunity to devour your neck again while working his hand in and out of you. You’re at his complete mercy. Whatever he wanted from you, he could have— you’d happily give it.

His mass threatens to topple you over the counter. You hook your leg around his hips, opening yourself to him more. You feel his entire body vibrate with a moan as his lips proceed to explore every single inch of you that they can. His thumb comes up to work against your clit and it sends you to a new level.

“P-please!” You gasp. You’re not entirely sure why you say it.

He pauses all of his movements, glowing red eyes meeting yours, “Please what?” it’s more of a demand than a question.

Tell me what you want.

It takes a moment for your brain to catch up with your mouth, “Please fuck me.”

Then you see a shift in him. Like his eyes glaze over and somehow become more animalistic. It sets all of your hair on end and a new wave of arousal washing over your senses.

His voice drops an octave, “Where’s—”

“Upstairs.” you barely pant out, glancing up at your bedroom just above you. He follows your eyes, quickly taking the hint.

“Okay, little spider. Okay,” he ever so slowly draws his fingers out from your slick heat. You whimper at the sensation. His hands trace over your soft thighs before hooking under them. He lifts you like nothing at all and your lips come crashing back to his. You entangle your limbs around him as he walks you both out of the kitchen and to the open living room. He doesn’t go towards the stairs though, instead walking to the opposite wall. Before you can correct him, his hands are off you— talons digging into your living room wall.

He scales the bricks as you cling to him, not stopping your hungry kissing for a single beat. His powerful limbs move under you with brute force but his torso still holds steady for you to carry yourself on. A small reminder of just how strong he was.

He hoists you both over the railing of your loft and carries you to the bed, dropping you into the messy, unmade sheets. His hand comes to the collar of your shirt, ripping it down the middle. You shrug off the shreds and briefly wonder if you’ll ever be able to do this without ruining any clothes.

He takes a moment to drink in your naked form, eyes slowly traveling down the curves of your body. You squirm under his gaze— Your breasts heaving up and down in anticipation.

“Miguel,” you reach out to him.

Come here. Please.

His head twitches, eyes darting back to your face. His small trance broken, he smiles down at you. The edges of his suit start to fade away in a pale blue glow until there’s nothing left but a pair of black boxer briefs, his form silhouetted by the streetlights from the window. He hastily removes the underwear, freeing his throbbing hard cock. You drink him in, in all his glory.

He trails his massive hands back up your thighs and over your torso as he crawls on top of you. His hands are scorching and rough. He pauses at your breasts, running his thumbs over each pebbled nipple.

He takes one into his mouth, kneading the other roughly. You squirm under him, gasping at the contact. His cock twitches against your stomach. He seems to revel in it— watching you fall apart by his hand. You can’t say mind much either.

“Miguel, please,” You beg, pulling at his hair. He lazily comes off your breast, lulling his tongue over your nipple before rising completely.

“So impatient , ” he murmurs. He brings his hand down and runs his fingers through your wet folds, slowly gathering your arousal. He sits back, towering over you. He strokes his massive length, covering himself with you. His gaze burns into you as he puts on the show— small gasps escaping him with every stroke.

Look at what you do to me.

He crawls down your body. You bring your legs up from under him and hook them around his waist. He reaches down and guides his cock to your entrance. The blunt tip presses dauntingly against you and then you, only for a moment, worry you can’t take him— Then he rolls his hips forward. Your face contorts into a blissful silent scream as he begins stretching you to your limits.

“Oh god,” He moans as he slowly takes you inch by inch. He rolls his hips lightly before burying himself to the hilt. You’re legs are already quivering around him. “Relax for me.” He whispers into your ear.

He starts the pace slow, drawing out almost completely before rolling back in. Each dauntingly slow stroke of his cock was a wave of sensory overload. He had you stretched to near painful limits but with each steady thrust, it melted into pure pleasure, your body relaxing around him.

A little faster now, you start to roll your hips with him. Once your rhythm is set, he brings his starved mouth back down to yours. You moan into him, feeling it reverberate in both your chests. You consume each other greedily.

Your sense is singing in absolute ecstasy.

It’s never felt this way before. You’d had a meager handful of lovers in your life, often leaving you wanting and disappointed— But this? This was something entirely different. Something so deep-rooted and primal. It scared you. It excited you.

“ He pensado en esto durante tanto tiempo.” He murmurs into you, “ Te sientes asombrosa.”

You absolutely do not have the brain capacity to even attempt to understand him right now. Still, the way he so lovingly says it makes your heart swell.

“You sound like sin,” He grunts against your neck, “It’s fucking beautiful. Eres hermosa, mi arañita. ”

Your growing arousal makes you more vocal with each movement— the coil in your belly already tightening more and more. Your sinful screams bounce off the walls of your apartment and back to you.

He’s leaving a growing trail of marks across your shoulders, evidence that he’s been there. You can’t say that you disapprove of the reminder. He’s so vigorous in all of his movements with you, it was getting close to overwhelming.

You’d thought of this— you’d dreamed about it for months now and he was incomparable to whatever you could have possibly imagined. Not just because his dick was proving to be something out of this world— well, you suppose it was— but because it was just him. His smell, his sound, his taste— he overwhelmed your every sense as he made love to you.

He hits something new and deep inside you, and you jump under him. He takes notice. Of course, he does. He devastatingly slams his hips forward into the same spot again. Electricity surges through you.

“Oh, that’s it, isn’t it? You like that?” He chuckles, thrusting into the same hypersensitive spot over and over. A few more thrust and it was your undoing.

You can’t even warn him before it hits you like a freight train.

You claw down his back as your orgasm overtakes you. Limbs numbing and mind blacking out to nothingness for brief seconds, it was almost too much. Quivering beneath him, he works you through it. Each thrust extends your blinding pleasure just slightly longer before it subsides into maddening overstimulation.

“Good Girl,” He moans against your ear, “S-so, fucking tight. So good.”

He doesn’t slow his pace, continuing to fuck you through your prolonged high. He takes full advantage of it. You gasp for any air you can, every nerve in your body threatening to burn up in the euphoria.

“One more,” he grunts, “I know you have one more for me.”

He nuzzles into your neck, teeth bearing down on the soft flesh there. The pearl gleam of his fangs flashes in your mind, and you know you should be afraid— but you're not. The idea of him drawing blood is strangely pleasing. His tongue licks up along the reddened mark his teeth have left there.

Then he shifts you— untangling your legs from him and pulling your hips up off the bed. You plant your feet as he holds your shaky hips. He rises and starts to thrust down into you, bringing his fingers to your clit, and rubbing small circles over your already fried nerves. God, he looked fucking magnificent towering above you— His face pure lust. Eye’s lidded and glossy, sweat pecking at his brow.

You grasp at the sheets, trying to find any sense of stability. Another wave is washing over you, “M-Miguel. Miguel, I’m gonna—”

It rips through you quicker than your first, but no less powerful. Your voice catches in your throat as you gasp for air, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“That’s it. That’s it,” he chants as crawls back over you, pulling you closer, “Fuck, you feel so good when you—”

His steady pace becomes sporadic as he chases his own relief. You feel his hips start to quake and his eyes go completely red.

“W-where?” he gasps.

“God— inside!” you scream impatiently. You can inform him of your birth control after, though he seems to take the hint.

He cums with a string of grunts uttered into the sheets next to your head, hips shuttering still as he pushes as deep inside you as you can. You feel him throbbing against your walls as he fills you. Every muscle in his body is quivering and tense and then… he relaxes completely. You hold him close, arms and legs wrapping around him. You bury your nose in the nape of his neck, memorizing his musky scent.

You both stay there for what felt like hours, in unmoving silence. Breathing each other’s heavy air, clinging to the other’s body. Truth be told, it was probably less than a minute, but it stretched on for eternity.

He’s the first to move, rising up to rest his sweaty forehead against yours, “Holy shit.”

How romantic. But that pretty much summed up your feelings too.

“Holy shit.” you chuckle lightly in agreement. You notice while coming down from your sexual high your spider sense has also been tamed into silence yet again. That was to be expected but there was something else this time. A new level of satisfaction. You can’t help but wonder what it’s like on his end, “What’s it feel like... For you?”

“It’s…Peaceful. Satiated and content.” he says, rolling onto his side. Your breath hitches at the loss of him. “It felt satisfied before when we… but now…”

“It’s different.” You finish his line of thought. It was vague and incredibly obvious, but how else could you possibly describe a sensation you’d never felt before? Yeah, it was different, but how? You just simply didn’t have the words— not yet.

It was everything and nothing you’d ever known before. He made you feel that way.

“Will you stay?” you find yourself saying before you can stop yourself. He’s obviously taken aback.

“I don’t—”

“Just- just for a little while.” You quickly try to backtrack a little. It feels needy and clingy but you feel like if he left you’d be lying awake for hours with your spider sense screaming at you. Just hold you for a little while? Is that so much to ask? You’re worried you just massively overstepped a boundary… but then his expression softens into a faint smile.

“Sure, little spider. For a little while.”

_____________________________________

Lo sé. Yo también lo siento- I know. I feel it too He pensado en esto durante tanto tiempo- I’ve thought about this for so long Te sientes asombrosa.- You feel amazing Eres hermosa, mi arañita- You’re beautiful, my little spider

For the love of god, please let me know if any of this is wrong.

Fury the Goblin Queen is a character from the Mayday Parker Spider-Girl comics! They were my favorites growing up and I thought Fury was cool as shit. She surfs on a fucking rocket, like come on. Too bad she was raised in a cult though.

#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x spiderwoman!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #across the spiderverse

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0tt00ctavius · 8 months

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Octogoblin October day 1

꧁Growing pains꧂

Norman and otto were fighting on patrol one night. They always stayed together after being reunited with their peter and the other peters and they never got too far away from each other. Thought tonight was different. Otto decided to split up with two of the peters and norman stay with one of the peters. Of course norman being the worry worm, he did not like that at all. He hated being away from otto. Even if it was just for a few hours, norman would always get a nervous/ panicky feeling when he was away from otto for too long. One, he was scared that goblin would take over and go back to his old ways and hurt people, plus norman didn’t want otto accidentally hurting someone. They were like each others protective system.

Norman went with (Toms peter) peter, trying to tell him to stay close and not stray to far away since they were on patrol. Peter though, didn’t listen and immediately went off of his own path. That’s when norman became worried and a tad scared. Yes he was really strong due to the performance enhancers but at the same time he was still that scaredy cat from high-school. He hated being scared. Otto loved scaring him though. Hiding behind walls at home, putting a spider or a rubber snake on his desk or in the floor, otto loved it. Norman was waking around, scared but trying to be brave when he heard footsteps, he turned around but it was too late….he was hit with some sort of magic.

Otto got an alert on his phone. He looked at it and saw it was from (toms peter) peter. He then listened to the voicemail Peter had left him. ‘Hey Mr Octavius, uhm you need to get over here right now, Mr Osborns…uh…been changed? Basically I heard a loud noise and when I came over there was a little kid just sitting in Norman’s clothes. They’re obviously to big for the kid but I have him wrapped in my sweat shirt right now….I’ll send you my location..’. Otto immediately checked the location and he used his actuators to make him go faster. He finally arrived to the location and saw a red headed, blueish greenish colored eye kid curled up in Peters sweatshirt. He kept saying he wanted his ‘papa’. Otto then thought…what if Norman’s memory was messed up? Does he even know who otto is? Otto then went over to norman and bent down.

“…hey kiddo…you alright? This one here said you were scared…” Otto said gently as he moved some of Norman’s hair out of his face. “papa!” The little version of norman shouted as he hugged otto. His memory was definitely fucked up. Otto just looked down at the kid and blinked a few times. Thinking that he’s now gotta take care of a kid. “(Oh shit…I’ve never been good with kids…what do I do…)” Otto thought as he held the kid version of norman. “,…I’ve missed you papa! I was scared…..I no know where I was at and you weren’t here…” The kid said as he sniffled and held back tears. “oh buddy…..I’m sorry I wasn’t with you…” otto mumbled as he petted Norman’s coppery colored hair. “I’m sowwy p-papa I’m don’t want cry…” Otto came to his senses as he heard the kid whimper those few words out. Otto wanted to be as nice as possible. “You can cry buddy….there’s no shame in crying….” Otto whispered as he tilted little Norman’s head up and kissed his forehead. Otto couldn’t tell you how long he just sat there, comforting this kid and trying to figure out how to help norman.

That night after they had went shopping and otto bought him a few outfits, otto was getting his bed ready for norman. Otto was gonna sleep on the couch, so he didn’t bother the kid. “Papa?….” Little norman whimpered out as he stared up at his ‘papa’. “Mhm? What is it bud?” Otto said as he didn’t look up from fixing Norman’s blanket. “….my legs really hurt……” The poor kid whined as he tried stretching out. Otto then remembered that norman told him that he used to have horrible growing pains as a kid, and that his mom used to rub his legs for him. He gently sat on the bed and rubbed Norman’s little legs, trying to soothe his pain. It wasn’t soon after that the kid was asleep. Falling out due to how comfy he was from otto rubbing his legs. Otto just smiled, covered him up and kissed his forehead. “G’night buddy….” Otto said as he turned off the light in the bedroom and went to the couch to try and get some sleep.

@octogoblinoctober

#norman osborn #green goblin #otto octavius #doc ock #octogoblin #octoblin #octogoblin october #spiderman #willem dafoe #doctor otto octavius #octogoblinoctober

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danpuff-ao3 · 10 months

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Non-HP Recs

Normally I don't read outside of my main fandom, due to the powers of hyperfixation. But lately, between tempting Twitter recs and a walk down memory lane, I've spent more time reading (or rereading) non-HP fics and figured I'd throw some favorites together for anyone interested!

America Isn't Chicken

by Amuly. Fandom: Marvel. Ship: Steve/Tony. Words: 130,631. Rated: E. Dub-con. Angst. Violence. Kidnapping. Getting together. Gay chicken.

After a Civil War, death, rebirth, a takeover by Osborn, brain deletion, and the fall of Asgard, Steve and Tony might just be starting to get back on solid ground with one another. Things aren't perfect, not yet, but they can be in the same room as each other without resorting to violence, and they've even managed to share a smile or two. Seems like the perfect time, then, for Tony to try and fuck it all up with a stupid game of gay chicken. Meanwhile, as if he didn't have enough to worry about, Tony realizes some kind of supervillainous trouble is brewing when increasingly advanced armors start popping up all over Manhattan, looking strangely reminiscent of his tech. On the other side of the world, Steve gets news that Zola is on the move in Russia, with some sort of nefarious plan at work. Which will ruin them first? Will it be this unknown armored villain who is after Tony's tech? Or will it be Zola unleashing his mysterious plan on the world? Or will Steve and Tony prove to be their own worst enemies, destroying the tentative truce they managed to forge with their own stubbornness?

Notes: this fic was my jam and I read it soooo many times. I love all the denial and temptation and angst!! Also: mega hot.

Met the Dodgers

by Amuly. Fandom: Marvel. Ship: Steve/Tony. Words: 17,192. Rated: M. Baseball. Fluff & angst. Romance.

Tony decides that, with his reputation, there's only one best way to show Steve he's serious about their budding relationship. Buy the Dodgers and move them back to Brooklyn for him.

Notes: I have no words, only feelings. Big, lovely feelings.

The Writing on the Wall

by DasMervin, MrsHyde. Fandom: Supernatural. Ship: Dean/Castiel. Series: 26 works. Words: 574,830. Rated: E. Demisexual Cas. Internalized homophobia. Slow burn. Heavy angst.

The writing was on the wall—and now Dean just had to try and understand it. A Post-Season Six alternate universe, going a different route from what happened in Season Seven and exploring a long and difficult relationship between Dean and Castiel.

Notes: This is the series that introduced me to the term "demisexual" and is what led me on the journey of exploring asexuality. I identified as demi myself for a while until I finally accepted my full ace-ness, but I learned a lot along the way, and it was all thanks to this fic. Plus all the inner turmoil and internalized homophobia?? This series is a GEM if you like extended suffering and true love overcoming all.

Blackbird

by emungere. Fandom: Hannibal. Ship: Hannibal/Will. Words: 88,892. Rated: E. Emotional manipulation. Possessive behavior. Sadism & masochism. Dom/sub. Case fic. Murder. Knifeplay/bloodplay.

Shortly after Will kills Garret Jacob Hobbs, he and Hannibal stumble into a D/s relationship. It's a relief to have Hannibal telling him what to do, but the closer they become, the closer he gets to realizing who and what Hannibal really is.

Notes: this author is great.

What Dreams

by emungere. Fandom: Hannibal. Ship: Hannibal/Will. Series: 2 works. Words: 92,878. Rated: E. Sugar daddy. Courtship. Slow burn.

A seduction through physical objects. It starts with a scarf loaned to Will on a cold day, but Hannibal, as usual, isn't satisfied with anything small.

Notes: the first Hannigram fic I read and I was SOLD. Obsessed.

Shinkton

by iesika. Fandom: Hannibal. Ship: Hannibal/Will. Series: 2 works. Words: 65,342. Rated: M. Secret identity. Secret relationship. Murder Valentines. Courtship. Knifeplay/bloodplay. Unsafe sex. Dub-con. Animal harm. Suicidal thoughts.

Courtship and marriage among killers and cannibals.

Notes: Saw @vitaminpops on Twitter talking about "sweet williams" showing up in Hannigram fics and I was seized by NEED. They gave me this link and I INHALED it. On a busy work day no less. Any spare minute I had, I was reading. And now it's inspired a Hannibal rewatch. 10/10 do recommend.

To a Stranger

by Mad_Lori. Fandom: Sherlock. Ship: John/Sherlock. Words: 156,714. Rated: E. Hollywood AU. Secret relationship. Romance. Show Business. Coming Out.

Sherlock Holmes is an Oscar winner in the midst of a career slump. John Watson is an Everyman actor trapped in the rom-com ghetto. When they are cast as a gay couple in a new independent drama, will they surprise each other? Will their on-screen romance make its way into the real world?

Notes: again, I'm not always an AU person, but this is 10/10. Another one due for a reread I think!

IllumiNaughty

orphaned. Fandom: Marvel. Ships: Steve/Tony (main), T'Challa/Namor, Tony/Steve/Black Bolt/T'Challa/Namor/Hank McCoy/Strange. Extreme dub-con. Gangbang. Punishment. Condoms. Emotional manipulation. Guilt. Emotional/psychological abuse. DEAD DOVE.

It's after the incursions are put to an end, after the multiverse is saved... and after Steve finds out that Tony (and the rest of the Illuminati) wiped his memory to keep the incursion events from him. Tony wants to make things right, so Steve gives him an ultimatum: allow the members of the Illuminati to gang-bang Tony, while Steve watches and instructs.

Notes: not gonna lie, this is very messed up but also very hot. I've truly read this fic to death. (Time for a reread? Probably!)

Out of the Deep

by riseofthefallenone. Fandom: Supernatural. Ship: Dean/Castiel. Words: 488,608. Rated: E. Fantasy AU. Human Dean. Merman Castiel. Telepathy. Hurt/comfort. Minor character death.

Stay away from the light-beds. Stay in the deep. It is the first thing hatchlings are taught the moment their fans unfurl and they can swim without their parents to buoy them along. It is the first rule, the first law. It is the beginning of every boogey-monster bedtime story told when they settle against the cliffs to sleep. Castiel should have listened better.

Notes: AUs don't always draw me in, and they certainly didn't several years ago, but this fic is so special. There is so much thought and care put into the merfolk world/culture, and how a relationship could unfold between a human and a merman. It is a very long and beautiful journey between these two.

Though the Truth May Vary

by thepretender501. Fandom: Marvel. Ships: Steve/Tony, Loki/Tony, Coulson/Steve, Rhodey/Tony (main: Steve/Tony.) Words: 3,890. Rated: M. Flangst. Open relationship. Jealousy.

And Steve wasn’t an addict. He could quit Tony anytime he wanted. He just didn’t want to.

Notes: idk what to say about this one, just it's forever stuck out for me. Something about it just feels special.

#danpuff recs #non hp fics #my recs #marvel #hannibal #sherlock #supernatural #stony #destiel #hannigram #johnlock #random recs

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dancingisdangerouss · 2 years

Note

Hiii~ I saw your request post and I wanted to make one for Doc Ock. I was wondering if we could see Doc Ock becoming lonely in his hideout so he kidnaps one of his former students (female and shy please). She’s afraid out of her mind but he thinks it’s adorable. NSFW and fluff if that’s ok too? Thank you 🥰

Hello!~ It's been a while since I had been able to write for Doc Ock, so I was more than happy to do this request. I'm hoping it's decent; I'm realizing I'm not very good at doing quick little drabbles, as I have trouble condensing stuff and not dragging it out or adding a lot of details. Might have to start limiting requests to headcanons for a little while until I can catch up to speed with all the requests. But anyway! Hope this is along the lines of what you were looking for!

Warnings: Stalking, kidnapping, oral sex

Without Otto around to mentor her through her internship, Y/N had been graciously accepted to work under Harry Osborn with Oscorp Industries, so that she could complete her schooling.

Fondness bloomed in the deepest trenches of the doctor’s chest as he watched Y/N roll her eyes behind Harry’s back, unamused by his charms. It heated his aglid heart to see how much less she enjoyed the Osborn kid’s company than his own, her stiff smiles and forced laughs something he had never once seen from her during her time under his own wing.

No, when in his presence, Y/N was none short of genuine, so much so that he could read her every emotion like the pages of a beloved children’s story. Her grins and giggles never sounded insincere around him, and, to his delight, nor did her blushes or her nervous stammers.

The timid young woman hid just out of sight beneath an eggshell, always taking two steps back the closer he got to her. He should have felt offended by her skittishness around him, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t find an allure in her shy nature. She startled easily and shrunk down whenever he stood over her, looking for all the world like an abandoned kitten he wanted to take home with him.

You can take what you want.

Otto’s dark brows knit at that. Yes, yes, that was true, he certainly had the means and power now to do as he desired…No! Absolutely not. He couldn’t just steal a person, that was absurd!

What’s so absurd about it?

The scientist pinched his sunglasses between gloved fingers, ignoring the dull pounding of a building headache. “It’s absurd because she’s not some…some object,” he told himself aloud, trying to shake away such a ridiculous thought.

She’s beautiful like one.

“She is, isn’t she…” Otto groaned, spreading his large hand across his face. “That is beside the point! I cannot simply kidnap a woman because I’m—”

Alone?

Abandoned?

Forgotten?

Anguished?

Forsaken?

“ENOUGH!” Otto Octavius panted, hands at his knees as the actuators crowded around him, their scarlet beams boring into his skull. “Enough, all of you…please…”

You deserve to take what you want.

“I…I don’t…”

You’re not a failure. The world has failed you.

“Th-that’s not—”

Think of her.

A static image of Y/N fizzled into Otto’s brain, frozen in his mind’s eye.

Y/N smiled so sweetly at him, one hand loosely gripping the shawl on her arm in an anxious gesture as he spoke over her, resplendent in a cyaneous dress from one of Oscorp’s formal events. The one they first met at.

His eyes shamelessly roamed over the image presented to him. Such a timid young woman…He could well and truly tell how much she admired him, and while it was expected for most budding scientists to have an awkward social streak around other people, she had a clumsy way about her that was less off-putting and more…endearing, perhaps.

Look at her.

“I-I’m looking…”

Don’t you want her?

“...I do, I just—”

Then take her.

Otto stared into the memory of Y/N’s eyes, and the longer he sank into those E/C depths, the more his plans solidified.

He had to have her.

That night, the scientist took the same route he had traversed for the past few weeks, following Y/N’s trek from Oscorp Industries to her apartment on the other side of town. He always kept a careful watch on her, in particular during the times where she ducked past dark alleyways or broken street lamps. Thankfully, for the most part, she kept her gaze down and people didn’t bother her much.

Otto gave her a few more hours, allowing her to have dinner, change, brush her teeth, and crawl into bed, all while he leaned against the brick of the building, watching the night roll out. After another hour or so of trying to ascertain the difference between stars and planes overhead, he finally unlocked her window with one of the meticulous claws, ensuring nothing broke as he entered her bedroom.

Y/N was fast asleep, burrowed into a mass of blankets and covers, none-the-wiser to his appearance.

The claw peeled back her bedcovers, revealing Y/N dressed in soft cotton pajama shorts and a matching spaghetti-strap tank. He subdued an amused chuckle as his eyes scanned the patterns of her sleepwear (penguins with cowboy hats and water pistols), but had more trouble catching back a strangled gasp when he realized Y/N was without a bra. Tiny pebbles poked through the fabric, made even more so prominent as he stole away the warmth of her covers.

Control yourself.

Had that been his voice? Or that of one of his new “companions” whispering in his ear? Either way, the advice was solid, and he swallowed down the lump in his throat before continuing.

One of the actuators worked its way carefully around her frangible form, taking care to grip her hard enough to secure her where he wanted her, but not so much as to cause her any discomfort. The mechanical digits clutched around her waist, gently lifting her from the mattress.

Y/N drooped in his grip, her head lolling to the side and hair curtaining her face from the shift in gravity. A free claw was quick to swoop in and pluck the fallen hairs out of the way.

For a few unstable heartbeats, Otto held her close in front of him, pleased to finally see her up-close again. Her eyelashes fluttered with dreams, her lips parted slightly as she mumbled something about a “nuclear panda.” One of Otto’s gloved hands flexed, chasing away the temptation to swipe a leather finger down her cheek and jaw.

The scientist’s free arms hoisted him back out through the window, cautiously taking Y/N’s unconscious form along with him. Gooseflesh erupted along her exposed skin from the brisk night air, and a part of him considered removing his coat for her, but dismissed the idea when it occurred to him that that would risk waking her; the last thing he needed was for Y/N to awaken in the middle of being carried high over the glittering city below, and to realize she was in danger of plummeting to her death.

He’d sooner die by gruesome torture than ever let something like that happen—but obviously, she would not be privy to his intentions. There was no need to send the poor thing into a full-on heart attack.

Otto transported her at a slower pace than he normally took, ensuring she would not be jerked and tossed about like a ragdoll. As they neared his hideout at the abandoned pier, he thought on the suffocating grasp of frigiferous loneliness that normally strangled his lungs upon arrival, his chest oddly lightweight with Y/N in his possession. He smiled.

Settling in, he lay Y/N down upon the makeshift bed he had fashioned in the back of the crumbling structure, allowing her to roll from the claw cradled at her hips. She groaned softly as he drew a ragged blanket over her bare shoulders, and felt a swirl of guilt at having not better prepared for her being there. Not that there was much to be done to improve the hospitality of a decaying pier, but still.

Y/N took some time to rise with the sun, and though Otto was never much of a patient man, for her, he could make an exception. Besides, he took a strange pleasure in watching her sleep, her legs occasionally kicking and flinching, her lips parted as she occasionally muttered nonsense, eyelashes sweeping her cheeks.

Eventually, as the sun broke through and bathed her in a ruddy orange glow, Y/N began to stir, her dreams fading into the sunlight. Befuddled by her arrangement, the girl cast a quick look around her at all sides, determined she was indeed no longer dreaming, and began to scream.

Perhaps breaking, entering, and stealing away his former student away in her sleep was not the doctor’s brightest idea.

“Y/N!” Otto called out, allowing his mechanical limbs to draw him closer, until he hovered a few inches over her prone form.

“D-Dr. Octavius?” Y/N whispered, rubbing an eye with the back of her fist as she blinked away any last remnants of sleep, possibly questioning the reality of her current situation. “Where—oh my god, where am I?”

“It’s okay, take a second to breathe,” he reassured her, but she flinched away from his hand as he went to pat her shoulder. “You’re safe. I’m not going to harm you.”

“I-I don’t understand.” Y/N pulled the ratty blanket closer to her shivering skin, eyes roving across the abandoned pier with sheer bewilderment. “How did I-I get here? And wh…” She trailed off, words catching in her throat as she took in his appearance.

That’s right, he hadn’t seen her since the accident.

Seeing her former mentor hovering over her, his monstrous tentacles tracking her movements with electric crimson eyes, she couldn’t help but to quiver. There was no way she had missed seeing his name and face in the news, for all the various crimes blotting his record, so she knew what he was capable of.

Y/N shrunk away as he drew closer, hugging the blanket to her chest. “Please! Dr. O-Octavius, please. Why am I here?”

The doctor could hardly admit that he had kidnapped her because he was lonely.

“I just…missed my favorite student,” he murmured, leather fingers coming to rest at her jaw.

Y/N winced, and he felt her shivers against the back of his hand. “Please d-don’t hurt me.”

“Hurt you?” he chuckled fondly, allowing one of the actuators to replace his hand. “Didn’t I just get through saying I wouldn’t harm you, Y/N?”

Y/N’s eyes shone with a thin layer of glittering tears, and Otto’s heart stopped abruptly. Teasing her for more of those terrified expressions and fearful mewls was enticing, but he never intended to push her to a breaking point. While he found the imbalance of power between you two admittedly…appealing, he wasn’t a proud man to make you cry.

“Don’t…Damn it. Y/N, I was being serious, I won’t…”

Without warning, Otto turned sharply on his feet, storming across the clearing as he ran his hands through his hair, mulling over what had compelled him to do something so idiotic.

“I shouldn’t have brought you here,” he concluded, ignoring the actuators as they popped up all around his face, staring him down with beady, volatile crimson eyes. “I don’t know what I was thinking…damn! I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’ll take you home.”

He moved to grab her and she flinched again.

“Sorry! My apologies, I wasn’t…I just…need to carry you back, that’s all. I know the arms are intimidating, but they won’t—”

“Oh, no, it’s n-not that,” Y/N assured him, playing absentmindedly with a loosened string on the elastic of her shorts. “I-I just don’t…want to go?”

Otto gawked down at the girl, the gears in his head turning wildly as they raced to track this conversation. “I’m sorry?”

“I-I said that I…” Y/N’s eyes jumped from object to object around the pier, never fully meeting his eyes directly, “I don’t, um…well, I don’t want to leave.”

Even the actuators gaped at her, cocking their claws from side to side like baffled pups, hissing softly. When Otto remained without words, Y/N buried her face in her hands, digging her fingers into her hair momentarily before exhaling a frustrated huff.

“I-I missed you, Dr. Octavius!” she blurted. Hands falling from her face, he saw that telltale surge of color in her cheeks, her bottom lip twitching as she struggled to overcome an inner battle.

“I’ve always, uhm, admired you, d-doctor. Your work ethic, y-your thoughts o-on nuclear science are unparalleled. And you’ve always taken your time with me! Y-you never—you never made me feel like an idiot for not getting things, and you’ve always had such a brilliant brain. It’s…it’s why I decided to intern under you in the first place.”

Y/N still avoided his eyes, her stammers lessening but her bashfulness remaining at full tilt as she fiddled with a strand of her hair. “I like you, Dr. Octavius. I’m…I’m sure you hear it all the time, so I know it hardly means anything coming from someone like me, but I think you’re amazing. Your thoughts, your passions, all of it, And I just w—”

Otto cleared the gap, allowing his arms to lower him just enough to where he could align his lips with hers, slotting their mouths together in a deep kiss that made him thankful that the arms were there to support his weight. He melted into her with a relieved sigh, gloved hands finding their way around either side of her face to angle her better against him.

For a horrifying moment, Y/N did not respond, merely trembling beneath the sensual kiss as he worked his lips over hers, exploring the feeling of her mouth against his.

However, a moment later, Y/N’s shaky hands reached up to gently rest at the back of Otto’s neck, urging him closer as she relaxed back into him, her lips soft and pliable, parting welcomingly to allow his tongue entrance.

His gloved hands roamed her cautiously, touching here and there as they kissed to assess her comfort levels. For as shy of a little thing as she was, the vixen made no protests to his advances, even going so far as to encourage them with little nips at the base of his throat.

"You're not afraid?" he asked between gasping breaths.

"I was," Y/N admitted, sighing into his touch, "only because I thought...I thought it might not be you in there. But it is."

He moaned without meaning to, and Y/N sat upright higher on the mattress to reach him, tentative hands brushing along his waistline. She continued that way for a time, offering her open mouth to his as her fingers played with his belt, stroking up and down his bare chest but always coming back to rest at his thighs.

Espresso eyes met hers, questioningly, tracking the little darts of her eyes and continued adornments of color to her cheeks and nose.

"Are you..." He leaned in, catching her earlobe between his teeth, "wanting to touch me, Y/N?"

Y/N swallowed visibly, and he got the impression that she wasn't one to be vocal about the things she wanted. "Y-yes, Dr. Octavius. May I?"

"Then by all means," he rumbled, voice tone dipping down from lust.

Her hands fumbled shakily over the buckle, listening for that metallic click to signify her access to him. Dipping a hand into his pants, she began to gently palm his heat in her fingers, self-consciously brushing across his package through the fabric.

Otto craned his neck back, straining for control. The demure little thing was shy in every aspect of herself, including the way she played him. Unfortunately, this meant her feather-light teases were now driving him insane.

Growling, the doctor allowed her to free him from the discomfort of his tight confines, his cock throbbing into her palm. Length-wise, she shouldn't have any troubles, but he had been blessed with a generous girth.

Y/N dotted kitten-light kisses to the weeping tip and Otto shook, breaths harsher as his mechanical limbs stretched out, locking onto the pier floorboards to stabilize him, lest his knees buckle. Y/N continued her torturous teases with diminutive licks all over his engorged head and length, her tongue prodding at the veins beneath the surface.

The scientist swore under his breath as she slurped the tip of him into her mouth, finally allowing him to breach her warmth. He bucked involuntarily toward her lips, stifling a desperate whine as she carried on with her coy navigation of him, suckling and licking around him like a lollipop, until finally he could take no more, and gripped the back of her hair.

Y/N peered upward, and the sight of her sitting beneath him, cheeks bulged with his cock as she tilted her head questioningly up at him, was enough to make him thrust forward, inching his way into further her mouth. Y/N obliged without complaint, her eyes fluttering shut as she worked him in deeper, careful to breathe steadily and angle him in such a way that she wouldn't choke just yet.

The girl hollowed her cheeks around him, suckling gently as her tongue encompassed him, roving over every bit of velvety flesh it could reach. Otto began to pick up the pace, ever watchful of her reactions to ensure she was okay with it, his hips colliding with her lip as he began fully stuffing himself down her throat.

Y/N gagged momentarily, tears manifesting at her eyelashes, but she remained dutiful, bobbing herself lightly up and down on him as his thrusts began to take on an uneven pace. With a final moan, he spent himself down her throat, clutching the back of her head to ensure he hit as far down as humanly possible.

He released her. Y/N coughed, but seemed otherwise no worse for wear, running her tongue along her lips to collect the last remnants of his sticky seed from her face. He shuddered at the sight.

Y/N rested her hands at his thighs, catching her breath in time with his. Otto swooped back in, catching her mouth to his in a quick, searing kiss. He hardly minded the taste of himself, so long as it was on her lips.

"Mm, Dr. Octavius—"

"Dear, I think we've moved well beyond formalities," he chuckled, letting one of the actuators cradle her cheek against its edge. "Please, call me Otto."

#asks #requests #doc ock x reader #doc ock #dr otto octavius #otto octavius x reader #dr otto octavius x reader #x reader #spiderman #no way home

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ceekbee · 22 days

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Xtra Thoughts

April 23

All I have is today, this moment, now. I can spend this moment making it the best moment yet with fearlessness, trust, courage, confidence, faith and love or I can waste it with doubt, anxiety, worry, regret, anger, fear, distress and hurt. Knowing that whichever way I choose determines the experiences I will have, I choose to use the opportunity of each moment to live my life to the fullest, always choosing love.

–Carol A James

Those who enjoy the greatest lives are not extraordinary people, or even ordinary people with something added. They are not necessarily the wealthiest or most professionally acclaimed. Those who sparkle with aliveness are ordinary people with nothing taken away. They have not lost their wonder of the moment. They cherish the presence of a friend; they marvel when a child takes their hand. They find a gift in each moment of living.

–Mary Manin Morrissey

I choose to love others, as God would. This means no severe judging, no resentments, no malicious gossip, no destructive criticism.

–Sweety Zee

Creativity is so delicate a flower that praise tends to make it bloom, while discouragement often nips it in the bud. Any of us will put out more and better ideas if our efforts are appreciated.

–Alexander F. Osborn

Forgiveness is a not a gift we give to the other person, rather, God’s gift to us.

–Unknown

God goes ahead of us, preparing the way.

–Jean A Samples

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claudia1829things · 9 months

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"VANITY FAIR" (2018) Review

“VANITY FAIR” (2018) Review

When I had first heard that the ITV channel and Amazon Studios had plans to adapt William Makepeace Thackeray’s 1848 novel, “Vanity Fair”, I must admit that I felt no interest in watching the miniseries. After all, I had already seen four other adaptations, including the BBC’s 1987 production. And I regard the latter as the best version of Thackeray’s novel I had ever seen.

In the end, my curiosity got the best of me and I decided to watch the seven-part miniseries. In a nutshell, "VANITY FAIR" followed the experiences of Rebecca "Becky" Sharp, the social climbing daughter of an English not-so-successful painter and a French dancer in late Georgian England during and after the Napoleonic Wars. The production also told the story of Becky's school friend and daughter of a wealthy merchant, Amelia Sedley. The story begins with both young women leaving Miss Pinkerton’s Academy for Young Ladies. Becky managed to procure a position as governess to Sir Pitt Crawley, a slightly crude yet friendly baronet. Before leaving for her new position, Becky visits Amelia's family. She tries to seduce Jos Sedley, Amelia's wealthy brother and East India Company civil servant. Unfortunately George Osborne, a friend of Jos and son of another wealthy merchant, puts a stop to the budding romance.

While working for the Crawleys, Becky meets and falls in love with Sir Pitt’s younger son, Captain Rawdon Crawley. When Sir Pitt proposes marriage to Becky, she shocks the family with news of her secret marriage to Rawdon. The couple becomes ostracized and ends up living in London on Rawdon’s military pay and gambling winnings. They also become reacquainted with Amelia Sedley, who has her own problems. When her father loses his fortune, George's own father insists that he dump Amelia and marry a Jamaican heiress. George refuses to do so and thanks to his friend William Dobbin's urging, marries Amelia. Mr. Osborne ends up disinheriting George. However, the romantic lives of Becky and Amelia take a backseat when history overtakes them and their husbands with the return of Napoleon Bonaparte.

I wish I could say that the 2018 miniseries was the best adaptation of Thackery's novel I had seen. But it is not. The production had its . . . flaws. One, I disliked its use of the song "All Along the Watchtower" in each episode's opening credits and other rock and pop tunes during the episodes' closing credits. They felt so out of place in the miniseries' production. Yes, I realize that a growing number of period dramas have doing the same. And quite frankly, I detest it. This scenario barely worked in the 2006 movie, "MARIE ANTOINETTE". Now, this use of pop tunes in period dramas strike me as awkward, ham-fisted, unoriginal and lazy.

I also noticed that producer and screenwriter Gwyneth Hughes threw out the younger Pitt Crawley character (Becky's brother-in-law), kept the Bute Crawley character and transformed him from Becky Sharp's weak and unlikable uncle-in-law into her brother-in-law. Hughes did the same with the Lady Jane Crawley and Martha Crawley characters. She tossed aside the Lady Jane character and transformed Martha from Becky's aunt-in-law to sister-in-law. Frankly, I did not care for this. I just could not see characters like Bute and Martha suddenly become sympathetic guardians for Becky and Rawdon's son in the end. It just did not work for me. I have one last problem with "VANITY FAIR", but I will get to it later.

I may not regard "VANITY FAIR" as the best adaptation of Thackery's novel, I cannot deny that it is first-rate. Gwyneth Hughes and director James Strong did an excellent job of bringing the 1848 novel to life on the television screen. Because this adaptation was conveyed in seven episodes, both Hughes and Strong were given the opportunity retell Thackery's saga without taking too many shortcuts. The miniseries replayed Becky Sharp's experiences with the Sedley family, George Osbourne, and the Crawley family in great detail. I was especially impressed by the miniseries' recount of Becky and Amelia's experiences during the Waterloo campaign - which is the story's true high point, as far as I am concerned. Also, this adaptation had conveyed George's experiences during Waterloo with more detail than any other adaptation I have seen.

Aside from the Waterloo sequence, there were other scenes that greatly impressed me. I really enjoyed those scenes that featured the famous Duchess of Richmond's ball in the fourth episode, "In Which Becky Joins Her Regiment"; Becky's attempts to woo Jos Sedley in the first episode, "Miss Sharp In The Presence Of The Enemy"; the revelation of Becky's marriage to Rawdon Crawley in "A Quarrel About An Heiress"; and her revelation to Amelia about the truth regarding George in the final episode, "Endings and Beginnings". There were people who were put off that the series did not end exactly how the novel did - namely the death of Jos, with whom Becky had hooked up in the end. I have to be honest . . . that did not bother me. However, I was amused that Becky's last line in the miniseries seemed to hint that Jos' death might be a possibility in the near future.

The production values for "VANITY FAIR" struck me as quite beautiful. I thought Anna Pritchard's production designs did an excellent job in re-creating both London, the English countryside, Belgium, Germany, India and West Africa between the Regency era and the early 1830s. Not only did I find the miniseries' production values beautiful, but also Ed Rutherford's cinematography. His images struck me as not only beautiful, but sharp and colorful. I would not say that Lucinda Wright and Suzie Harman's costume designs blew my mind. But I cannot deny that I found them rather attractive and serviceable for the narrative's setting.

One of the production's real virtues proved to be a very talented cast. "VANITY FAIR" featured some solid performances from it supporting players. Well . . . I would say more than solid. I found the performances of Robert Pugh, Peter Wight, Suranne Jones, Claire Skinner, Mathew Baynton, Sian Clifford, Monica Dolan, and Elizabeth Berrington to be more than solid. In fact, I would say they gave excellent performances. But they were not alone.

Michael Palin, whom I have not seen in a movie or television production in years, gave an amusing narration in each episode as the story's author William Makepeace Thackeray. Ellie Kendrick gave a very poignant performance as Jane Osborne, who seemed to be caught between her loyalty to her bitter father and her long-suffering sister-in-law. Simon Beale Russell gave a superb, yet ambiguous portrayal of the warm and indulgent John Sedley, who also had a habit of infantilizing his family. Frances de la Tour was deliciously hilarious and entertaining as Becky Sharp's aunt-in-law and benefactress Lady Matilda Crawley. I could also say the same about Martin Clunes, who gave a very funny performance as the crude, yet lively Sir Pitt Crawley. One last funny performance came from David Fynn, who gave an excellent portrayal of the vain, yet clumsy civil servant, Jos Sedley. Anthony Head gave a skillful performance as the cynical and debauched Lord Styne. I thought Charlie Rowe was superb as the self-involved and arrogant George Osborne. Rowe, whom I recalled as a child actor, practically oozed charm, arrogance and a false sense of superiority in his performance as the shallow George.

I have only seen Johnny Flynn in two roles - including the role of William Dobbin in this production. After seeing "VANITY FAIR", it seemed that the William Dobbin role seemed tailored fit for him. He gave an excellent performance as the stalwart Army officer who endured years of unrequited love toward Amelia Sedley. Tom Bateman was equally excellent as the charming, yet slightly dense Rawdon Crawley. At first, I thought Bateman would portray Rawdon as this dashing, yet self-confident Army officer. But thanks to his performance, the actor gradually revealed that underneath all that glamour and dash was a man who was not as intelligent as he originally seemed to be. Amelia Sedley has never been a favorite character of mine. Her intense worship of the shallow George has always struck me as irritating. Thanks to Claudia Jessie's excellent performance, I not only saw Amelia as irritating as usual, but also sympathetic for once.

Television critics had lavished a great deal of praise upon Olivia Cooke as the sharp-witted and manipulative Becky Sharp. In fact, many have labeled her performance as one of the best versions of that character. And honestly? I have to agree. Cooke was more than superb . . . she was triumphant as the cynical governess who used her charms and wit in an attempt to climb the social ladder of late Georgian Britain. I would not claim that Cooke was the best on-screen Becky I have seen, but she was certainly one of the better ones. I have only one minor complaint - I found her portrayal of Becky as a poor parent to her only son rather strident. Becky has always struck me as a cold mother to Rawdon Junior. But instead of cold, Cooke's Becky seemed to scream in anger every time she was near the boy. I found this heavy-handed and I suspect the real perpetrator behind this was either screenwriter Gwyneth Hughes or director James Strong.

I have a few complaints about "VANITY FAIR". I will not deny it. But I also cannot deny that despite its few flaws, I thought it was an excellent adaptation of William Makepeace Thackeray's novel. Actually, I believe it is one of the better adaptations. "VANITY FAIR" is also one of the best period dramas I have seen from British television in a LONG TIME. And I mean a long time. Most period dramas I have seen in the past decade were either mediocre or somewhere between mediocre and excellent. "VANITY FAIR" is one of the first that has led me to really take notice in years. And I have to credit Gwyneth Hughes' writing, James Strong's direction and especially the superb performances from a first-rate cast led by Olivia Cooke. It would be nice to see more period dramas of this quality in the near future.

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