#I'm afraid of certain looking spiders yeah but like. just move out the way of it?

[slashbitch2]

Extra Complications

never expected to be crushing on an animated character but here we are

Next Chapter

It was sneaky. Perhaps cheating by some standards. But from your perspective, it was a damn good plan.

Ironically you'd seen the advertisement for the Alchemax internship right after being flung into a wall by the very same woman who'd likely approved the broadcast. Olivia Octavius, or Doc Ock as you ought to refer to her in costume. Though she'd given you little time to read up on 'how to apply', as moments later a car was thrown in your direction, which was very inconsiderate of her, but was also all the persuasion you needed.

At this point, you'd be willing to do anything if it contributed to thwarting her, surely, very evil plan. Of course you admired the woman for her general genius and eccentricity, but the constant unprovoked conflict was becoming tiresome. It felt as if she were trying to determine how much of a threat you posed, whereas, you liked to think your legacy as 'that Spider-Person who sometimes saves the day' was all the evidence necessary.

Honestly, you weren't certain as to what exactly her, no doubt, villainous plan entailed besides patrolling the streets in green swimming goggles and black spandex with ridiculous plastic tubes jutting out of her back. In fact, it was ridiculous that no one had made any attempt to stop her yet. Unlike your identity, kept secret by a more modest spandex suit, hers was public knowledge.

Sometimes, it seemed as though you were the enemy here.

Which is precisely why infiltrating her team of scientists was more than appropriate. You were about to single handily take down an international threat, one hidden in plain sight, but left untouched due to the company's vast money, leverage and prestige.

Someday the city would thank you for your many sacrifices. Specifically for voluntarily working another job without pay. Y/N Y/L/N, broke intern by day, friendly neighbourhood Spider-Person by night.

"Excuse me?" A voice called from the left, your vision of them obstructed by an inconveniently placed potted plant. "Are you the new intern?" The person stepped closer, briefly glancing up at you, then back down at a sheet of paper. "Y/N Y/L/N?" The woman's timid appearance hardly screamed villainous scientist, but then again, looks can be deceiving.

"Yes, that's me." You stood, reaching out to shake her hand.

She sighed in relief, shaking your hand a tad too enthusiastically. "Lovely to meet you. I'm Marie and I'll be getting you settled in for the first few days."

A spark of disappointment flashed across your mind. Olivia hadn't been there for your interview, nor had any sway in your hiring, and now she wasn't even the person greeting you on your first day. Although you had no right to be, you felt rather offended by the lack of challenge she was providing. It was almost too easy.

---

To be fair, Marie was the perfect candidate to give you a tour of the facility. She was kind and patient, but not condescending. She seldom spoke beyond what was required of her, unless you asked something work related, when her lengthy response would affirm her status as an epicure of scientific knowledge. By midday, you'd decided she was someone to befriend, and subsequently accepted her invitation to have lunch together.

You were also hoping that the team would eat lunch as a group, but alas, more disappointment. Instead, you spent the break sitting in an awkward silence with Marie, who seemed to loose basic communication skills when presented with food. In spite of her lack of engagement, you still took the opportunity to try and ascertain information about the project you'd be working on, though each time she expertly diverted the interrogation, or ignored your question entirely.

Who knew working for an evil, secretive corporation would be so boring?

It was a test of patience to be sitting in the same building as Olivia Octavius, while forced to shadow an incredibly kind, but slow eating woman. Realistically, you knew there'd be plenty of time to investigate, though you were reluctant to end the day without any progress. So, while Marie was still distracted by her lunch, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

She dismissively approved with a wave of her hand, allowing you to slip away from the dining hall. You vaguely remembered the location of Olivia's office as being on the top floor, indicated by Marie's imprecise pointing. She'd explained that very few had clearance to get in, but you'd already thought of a way to get passed the security.

Who aside from the highest ranking scientists had access to every room? Janitors, of course. Because, for some reason, cleanliness was more important than security.

It didn't take long to locate a cleaner, or much effort to pickpocket the security card. To be on the safe side, you even had an excuse ready: that the man had dropped it, that you were simply looking for him to return it. And if Olivia caught you in her office, well, she wouldn't (Spider-Senses and all). Again, it was almost too easy.

There was a minatory silence as you walked along the final corridor toward her office. Part of you felt as though this was some kind of elaborate trap, the repeated phrase 'too easy' coming to mind as you reached the door. Though the logical part of you must've known this was a fatuous suggestion, and took control.

With a final pause to confirm nobody was approaching, or was already waiting inside, you scanned the key card. The action was rewarded with a satisfactory beep, followed by the door sliding open so fast it appeared to have vanished.

The office was smaller than you anticipated. Or maybe it was the bareness of the room that caught you off guard. The woman was insane, yet her work area hardly reflected her deranged mental state. Everything was so perfectly neat that you began to wonder if you'd actually walked onto a movie set, or a photoshoot, which would've explained the strange ring lights hanging from the ceiling.

Upon reaching the centre of the room, you were struck by the realisation that you truthfully had no reason to be here. Even if the office had been as messy as you'd expected, it was unlikely that she'd leave her super evil plans lying around. Rather, It'd been some morbid curiosity that had lured you here. To see where The Doc Ock worked, where the alter ego was likely created. The reality was underwhelming to say the least.

Deciding that you'd spent enough time admiring an incredibly bland office, you exited back out into the empty corridor, nonchalantly throwing the security card behind you, certain someone would eventually return it. Then, as if right on cue, you sensed somebody approaching, soon followed by footsteps resonating from around the corner. With no way of avoiding them, you kept your head down with the intention of blending in.

Olivia Octavius rounded the corner, not sparing a glance up. She was frowning at a piece of paper, her full attention directed to it, blissfully unaware of your presence.

Instinctively, your entire body tensed at the sight of her lithe frame and mass of hair spilling out of its messy bun. Any other circumstance and you'd have fled by now, through a vent, out of the window, it didn't matter. Though you had to remind yourself that there was no reason to be afraid now. There was no possible way she could know your identity.

Nonetheless, as you passed her with less than a metre of space, you held your breath. She said nothing and you both kept walking in opposite directions.

It seemed the coast was clear. You released the breath you'd been holding and kept moving until. "Hey, wait a minute."

You froze, aching to ignore her and escape. Her voice was deep, more so than you were prepared for. While fighting, few words were exchanged, and even then they were unintelligible. Although, now was the worst time to be thinking about previous interactions, so with much difficulty, you cleared your mind. As far as anyone knew, including yourself, you were just the intern.

You ran a hand through your hair nervously, straightening out your lab coat and turning to face her. She was stood at the far end of the long white corridor, entirely unthreatening when compared to Doc Ock, who would've loomed over you menacingly.

Remembering the role you were meant to be playing, you choked out a response. "How can I be of assistance?"

"You're the new intern, right?"

"Yeah." You considered approaching to shake her hand, but the idea of awkwardly marching the length of the corridor to greet her was rather unappealing. "That's me." You settled for a polite smile and shoulder shrug instead.

She screwed up her face in consideration before crooking a finger. "Come with me."

Swallowing any concern, you nodded hesitantly. The prospect of returning to the office you'd broken into only moments ago had you dragging your feet.

She waited patiently until you were by her side to continue. "Don't worry." She scanned her key card. "I don't bite." Her tone was playful, her eyes kindly mocking.

"Good to know." You muttered, following her inside. You took a second to look around the room with mock curiosity, feeling her eyes trace your every move. Like a predator, eyeing up its prey, determining your weaknesses. Unlike the encounters with Doc Ock, it was uncertain who had the high ground here. Her gaze was putting you on edge, not dissimilar to how your character of 'the intern' would react.

"So..." She shuffled some papers around on the desk, finding what looked to be your application. "Ms. Y/L/N right?"

You confirmed with a nod, summoning the resolve to amble toward her desk.

"Take a seat." She gestured to the chair opposite, letting you sit before proceeding. "Tell me about yourself, Y/N."

You started to think of an adequate answer, but she interrupted a second later, contradicting her initial inquiry. "Are you okay with me calling you Y/N?" She leant her head on a closed fist, narrowing her eyes.

Although the question sounded considerate, you didn't feel the implied sincerity. Even if you wanted to say no, that didn't feel like a suitable response. "Sure."

Somehow, it felt like she was establishing dominance through the polite act, and combined with being under her scrutinising glare, the performance was working.

"Great." Suddenly, she leant back in her chair, all evidence of the hostile act disappearing instantaneously.

"What'd you want to know?" Mirroring her relaxed posture, you attempted to re-establish some control.

"Oh, anything." A flicker of something passed in her eyes, piqued interest possibly?

You began routinely rattling off some basic facts about yourself, nothing too specific or personal. Facts that would answer any follow up questions she might have, and yet said nothing about you. Surprisingly, she seemed hooked on your every word. The thought crossed your mind that this might be the real interview, that everything else up to this point had been a sham. But you settled on a more unsettling justification. That she was committing everything you said to memory.

Coming to the end of the informative monologue, you decided to take a risk. "Do I get to ask a question?" You raised an eyebrow challengingly.

"Inquisitive. I like that." She stated, folding her arms on the desk. "Go ahead."

You decided to see how far you could push your luck. "Tell me about yourself." You smugly repeated her vague first query. It was the Doctor's turn to come up with an answer to the ambiguous demand.

She scoffed, realising your plan to make her struggle. "Touché. But I'm rather busy, so how about you pick a more specific question."

Narrowing it down, there was only one thing you wanted to ask. "Can I see the-" You waved your arms around, imitating tentacles. "the suit?"

She chuckled, slowly standing. Judging from her lack of surprise, this was likely a request she'd heard many times.

First, she removed her glasses. Then slipped out of her lab coat. Next to go was the shirt, which she pulled over her head while maintaining eye contact. You wanted to look away, out of respect, yet you didn't. Without the shirt, you noticed she was already wearing the suit underneath and had the harness strapped to her back, confirming your suspicion that she always had access to the weapon. As she was stepping out of her trousers, the arms (tentacles?) inflated, and within moments were threateningly extending to their full potential.

She smiled proudly, enjoying your stunned expression. "As good as you expected?"

"Better." Unable to resist any longer, you stood to investigate the suit in further detail. You'd never seen it stationary, or had the opportunity to try and gauge the details of how it worked. Although you argued this would be beneficial for your next fight, in reality you just wanted to admire the contraption. You circled round, marvelling at the simplicity of the design. It was convenient, yet elegant. "It's beautiful."

Coming to a stop in front of Olivia, she had an unreadable expression. A mix of emotions, most prominently confusion. To your delight, a faint blush coloured her cheeks. Whatever unspoken game you'd been playing, you were winning, or were until she said. "How'd you like to intern for me?"

You quickly recovered. "I already do."

"No." She sighed. "I mean personally. As my assistant? You'd get your own desk, an almost guaranteed job at the end of it and so much more experience than you'd bargained for." She leant forward, a little too close for comfort. There was an unhinged look in her eyes more reminiscent of Doc Ock that both convinced and deterred you. "So what'd you say?"

She genuinely wanted you to work with her.

This hadn't been part of the plan. You'd expected to spend no longer than a few months working at Alchemax. To uncover their evil scheme, figure out how to stop it and hopefully take down the company. An optimistic plan, sure, but one you'd been assured you'd stick to. Although, the opportunity to work closely with Olivia Octavian, with the Doc Ock, was too good to pass on. Not to mention, infinitely more interesting.

You grinned, embracing the insanity that your answer would incur. "I'd love to."

She clapped her hands together. "Great!" Then offered her hand for you to shake formally. "I'll sort out the paperwork and details this evening, but right now if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to."

She left before you had the chance to say anything else, still in her suit, which left you confused for the following half hour. You finally understood upon catching a glimpse of a news alert on your phone.

Doc Ock Seizes Bank, Has Taken Hostages!

You sighed. Today was going to be a long day, and things were only going to get more complicated.

#olivia octavius x reader #olivia octavius

[veterveter]

YO MANU THIS FINALLY CAME THROUGH I'LL LIKE READ AND DO COMMENTARY AND EDIT THIS LATER BUT I WANTED TO POST IT WHILE I HAD IT!!!!

Bless, tumblr finally working for you.

Anyway, here's the post from @delirious-and-slightly-murderous

So seeing as Tumblr hates me, I'm trying this darling, hope it reaches you.

So just read rat king.

[You should all totally read rat king if you haven't yet, it's fun I promise :) But also read Manu's commentary on it!!]

Tuuli I hope you know I love you and completely adore you and I am in awe of you but right now I HATE YOU. 

You broke me AGAIN. And I was just mending myself.

This was great and beautiful and fantastic and completely awful and the worst thing I've ever seen in my life. 

I'm crying.

So now I'm going to make a habit of coming to scream at you on tumblr every time you post something. 

You already know how I feel about your characterization and Andrés' POV and the angst. So there, it applies here too.

Here we go you awful and magnificent goddess.

“Martín,” Sergio clarified, moving up his glasses, the prescription of which was much too weak for his continuously worsening eyesight, “I think you should stop sleeping with him: Yes, Segio and his judgement. That couldn't not be there. But Andrés and Martín are sleeping together? I know this is going to hurt.

Martín was a constant in his life, something carried over from before. Martín? Martín wasn’t a problem; Martín was the only one thing that was good: at least here he appreciates him. Thank god.

Before, he would have found some entirely healthier way of loving his soulmate. Maybe they would have even had an old-world relationship, eventually. Andrés felt like he might have liked that, once. He knew Martín would have loved it: 😭 I want this for them and it hurts that it's simply not going to happen. I'm afraid of the MCD tag, Tuuliiiiiiiiiiii! Who did you kill, you murderous genius?

Andrés needed Martín, desperately. Too desperately to love him the way he should have: I'm going to die. He could at least try but nooooo, god forbid the day Andrés de Fonollosa makes things simple for anyone.

Andrés could see the way orgasms had loosened some of the tensions that so often gripped his body, and he hoped Sergio could too.😏

 If Andrés had to choose only one, he would have certainly chosen— : repressed asshole. I hope that was going to end with the word Martín. Why are you even getting married? What's even the point. But I see Andrés will continue to be emotionally stunted even when the world is ending.

Martín and Sergio had gotten along well, before. Andrés could remember so many pleasant evenings, just the three of them and a bottle of wine. But ever since they had to move to this base, the tensions had been palpable. They were both desperately trying to keep them alive, but were constantly disagreeing on the how: I'm starting to like Sergio more than Andrés here, how is that possible? How? See what you do Tuuli?

He turned around at the doorway and left the room, because he had no doubts about it: they would listen to him: Andresito, you are being too egocentric, this is not going to end well, for anyone.

Andrés understood just enough to know he was proud.: I don't know how to feel about this Andrés. I can't.

Andrés always tried not to take the slights of this brave new world personally – it was cruel, but they all had to endure loss of unspeakable magnitude – but this? Having to choose between his Martín and his brother?: Oh no, Oh no, NO. This isn't fair. Why do I get the terrible feeling we already know who he's going to choose? Please DON'T do this.

Andrés knew with unwavering certainty that either one of them would be willing to do it, and that they would consider it a great big favour to Andrés, and not the horrifying curse it truly was. He was the one who would have to pay the ultimate price, and live, knowing how much it had cost: Everything always has to be about you, doesn't it Andrés. You fucking deserve it.

Andrés could appreciate such a malleable room, because it reminded him of Martín, who always became what Andrés needed him to be.😡😭💔

Martín had never cared about plants, before. Actually, he seemed to have held a certain disdain for them. He had always said they were stupid and lifeless. Now he was looking at these ones, their lifeline, and he was filled with reverence and sorrow. If Andrés could have given him one thing, he would have liked to return to him his complete disregard for flora, and all the things it had since then come to imply: This hurts, and not only for obvious reasons. But nature? Fuck right in the feels.

Martín was entirely too pretty to look like this. They hadn’t even been having sex, because suddenly Martín looked like his eternally calcium-deficient bones might now break from the strain. Pretty Martín yeah! And you are a genius. Now this is my official headcanon as to why Martín drinks milk, he has fragile bones, the poor baby.

The weird walking corpse at the table smiled, and it almost made him resemble Martín.: He's already halfway dead. The MCD tag is him isn't it? I hate you Tuuli.

Andrés had to remind himself that he was lucky to have this. He may have had so many better things, before, but now he had this, and that was good. They had it better than most, him and Martín, for they had each other. Andrés still had his brother, and now he would have his wife, too. He was lucky: Not for long, buddy. And you deserve it. Poor Sergio I normally hate him but gosh.

“No,” Andrés said without waiting for a single beat, because he couldn’t let Sergio think he considered it. Even though he almost— “No, I don’t. I want you two, both of you, to figure out a way. A different way.”: He loves them both and he accepts it? Why does the world have to be ending.

Andrés tried not to think too much about Martín from before, but sometimes he did anyway. That night, as he wrapped his arms around Martín’s pathetic, weak and shivering frame, he thought about his true soulmate, the one this body had once belonged to.: Now I understand Martín sacrificing himself is the only way. He's already dead. And because of Andrés no less. How tragic.

Andrés had never said it back.

That night, he didn’t say it back.: Now Martín is going to die and it'll be horrible isn't it? Tuuli I want to murder you.

I’m so sorry, Andrés,” Sergio said quietly, slowly reaching out a hand to touch his shoulder.

Andrés recoiled from it, sharply. “No,” he snapped, “No. We are all going to die. Say those words, Sergio. We are all going to die.” He had made his peace with death long ago. There were worse things, many things so much more horrifying—

“We are not all going to die,” Sergio said, “The generator—” His words were cut off by Andrés’s hand on his throat, squeezing.: You are the king of denial, bad decision, being stupid, emotionaly stunned and not appreciating your soulmate enough Andrés. You deserve all the pain.

“He doesn’t deserve that,” Andrés said, his voice breaking again as he thought of it, Martín’s body, his corpse, frozen and preserved like that for as long as they would live. Martín, out there, while Andrés was in here, unable to ever go and give him even a proper burial. He had always been able to give Martín so little, and in death he would fail him yet again: I really have no words for this. But Martín being forever preserved out there and Andrés knowing that and not being able to mourn him. That is genius and it hurts and it's the perfect ending for them.

Andrés had never told him. Not once. How could he be certain that Martín had known? How could he insist that Martín, the brightest of them all, had known, when Andrés had never told him? Martín operated in words – how could Andrés have forced him to read his love in a language he didn’t even speak?: Now you confront your feelings too late, like always you repressed asshole. You deserve all the pain.

God, he wished Martín hadn’t been so bright. That he had been an idiot, dim-witted and slow like the rest of them.

Then the two of them would have let all of humanity perish.: You already murdered me with 'stay a while' and now this. Tuuli I'm coming back as a vengeful ghost and haunting your perfect ass.

So yeah, I don't have words but that's what I could spit out.

And Tuuli, you know the thing I showed you about the spider? Well when I finished reading this I was crying and wailing. My professor came running because he thought it was another spider or something even worse like a serpent.

When he asked what was going on I was in such a state I could only say 'rat' like a dumbass. 

RAT.

Like seriously? And when he asked again I said Rat king fic and pointed vaguely to my phone. 

He thought I was talking about an actual rat.

So imagine this. We are there, at night (in Costa Rica nightfall is around 6:00pm all year round, so now it's 9:00pm and here in the tropical rainforest it gets Dark), camping in the middle of nowhere in the wild with a tropical storm falling over our heads and I start crying about Rats. 

Congratulations Tuuli, you put me in such a state that I managed to send the whole of 9 biologists into a frenzy, frantically checking out the tents over an imaginary giant rat. 

It was literally terror in the jungle. 

I wanted the earth to shallow me. I didn't know how to explain that all that circus was because of a fucking fic.

I think now I no longer have satelital internet rights.

I hate you.

(P.S: But don't worry I still absolutely adore you, even if now I am the laughing stock of my fellows 🥰😘♥️)

Here have my friend the spider to show how I'm feeling.

[jpat82]

Secret World

Chapter 13

"Echo?" Peter asked quietly as he wound me through the building.

"His laces were tied." I muttered softly to myself.

""What?" Peter asked, slowly I turned my face to look at him. His eyes were focused on mine as my mind tried to wrap around what just happened.

"Flash's laces, they were tied." I stated again, I watched as Peter's eyebrows knotted together with confusion.

"Afraid I'm not understanding." Peter told me as people brushed past him.

"Flash, the reason he tripped. It's cause his laces were tied in knot after knot." I exclaimed just before I was interrupted by someone yelling Peter's name. I turned just as Peter stopped and looked up at the ceiling.

"Hey Ned." Peter called back as he turned around.

"Hey, who's this?" Ned asked as he looked over at me.

"Ned this Echo, she's new and I'm showing her around. Echo this is Ned, my best friend." Peter stated, Ned stuck his hand out toward me and all I did was just stare at it. "Uh, she doesn't like people touching her."

"Oh, that's cool." Ned replied with a smile. "So, did you guys hear Flash face planted in history?"

"We were there Ned." Peter told him looking over me with a small smile as the three of us started walking back down the hall.

"So Echo, where are you from?" Ned asked as he looked around Peter.

"Brooklyn." I replied quietly, feeling slightly odd about this whole thing. I get it, I was the one that dropped into Peter's life and of course he had friends but at the same time I just wanted to be alone. Peter was one thing, others were a different story.

"That's cool." Ned nodded, we walked in awkward silence for a bit.

"Peter where is the rest room?" I asked suddenly just needing a moment.

"Uh, right over this way." Peter replied looking around and then he grabbed my hand.

'And I wanted you to be better.' It was the same voice I had heard as before. I stopped briefly and Peter stopped to look at me.

"Echo?" Peter asked, concerned etched across his face. I shook my head, realizing Ned was still us.

I smiled and started walking again. We got to doorway in the wall, I ducked in towards the giggles and voices of other teenage girls. They all stopped talking when I entered, taking a deep breath I walked into one of the stalls and closed the door. I sat down on the toilet and took a deep breath.

Closing my eyes, taking a moment to steal my nerves. The voices drowned out as I ignored them, my mind trying to put together the shadow creatures, Flash's shoes. And then the thought of the last time I had been in a public restroom was when this all happened. Slowly I opened my eyes, the lights flickered over head, casting shadows on the walls. Chattering, voices whispering, not of the girls that been there when I entered, something different.

I stood, slowly I reached out toward the lock on the door with trembling fingers and slid the lock open. The room was vacant, and two of the three overhead fluorescent lights were out, casting shadows all around me. I could see them in the mirrors, the constant moving, the scurrying. My heart raced inside my chest as I stared one staring back at me through the mirror had didn't hold my reflection. Bright eyes and sharply jagged irregular teeth set in a wispy ebony body. It's smile alarmed me but I couldn't seem to break away.

'Do we have your attention, Echo.' It's baritone voice boomed through my skull, causing me to jump in my skin. I wanted to run, to bolt, and keep going until my legs gave out. But I found myself locked into place just staring back it, I swallowed the lump that had formed in the back of my throat. I could feel the tears welling up behind my eyelids as it tilted its head.

"No, this isn't happening, they don't talk." I whispered to myself, closing my eyes allowing the tear to slip down my cheek.

'I said, do we have your attention?" The voice repeated.

———-

"So, she seems kinda cool, does she play rpg's?" Ned asked Peter as they both waited outside the restroom.

"I.. I don't know." Peter replied as he leaned against the wall, four girls walked out looking at both Ned and Peter before continuing on.

"So what's with the no touching thing? Is she like afraid of germs? Or?" Ned asked him.

"It's just a personal thing." Peter replied, looking toward the restroom opening.

"I just mean, you grabbed her hand when we headed over here, if she's new, like how long have you known her? Is it just after a certain time.." Peter slowly tuned Ned out as he watched the opening, the lights flickered. Peter stood straighter as he watched the lights dim out about before another light flickered. "Peter?"

"Uh, yeah. Sorry, could you do me a favor Ned?" Peter asked, whipping his head back to his friend.

"Sure."

"Watch for anyone coming in here. I'm going to go check on Echo." Peter stated as he walked in rapidly, Ned opened his mouth to ask a question but it was too late.

———

'Echo, we want to talk to you.'

"No, no, no." I cried shaking my head as slipped to my knees, closing my eyes tight to the image in front of me.

'The other one, it's coming.' A raspy voice spoke out.

'Saved by the ittsy bisty Spider. We'll talk later Echo.' The first voice spoke to me again.

"Echo?" I heard Peter cry out as the rapidness of his foot steps approached. The lights all flashed on at the same time as I opened my eyes and he knelt next to me. "What happened?"

"They.. they talked." I told him stuttering, tears still falling from my face as he wiped them from my cheek.

"The shadows?" He asked, his eyes tracking across my face. All I could do was nod in response to his question. "Guessing they never did that?"

"No." I replied, feeling a new batch of tears fall. "Peter, I need to get out of here."

"Alright, hold on." He stood and walked over to the bathroom windows and pushed one open. He looked outside for a moment and then came back. "Stand up."

I did as told and followed him to the window, looking out and down toward the ground. I had forgotten we were on the second story, and I looked back at him as he climbed on the window ledge and reached for me. I stared at him in disbelief before he pulled up his sleeve and I saw the devise strapped to wrist.

"Never leave home without them." He shrugged, I climbed onto the window ledge with him. Peter held me close with one arm as he aim the other up toward the roof.

———-

Ned waited outside the restroom awkwardly smiling at anyone that came near. Two girls approached and he stepped in the middle on the opening.

"Sorry, bathrooms closed." He stated cheerfully, the girls ignored and walked past him. He listened closely and didn't hear anyone comment on a man in the woman's room.

Permanent tag-

@kitkatkl

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Secret World tag-

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If I missed you or you like to be tagged just let me know.

#peter parker x 1st person #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman x oc #spiderman #spiderman fic #alternate universe #marvel #secret world

[magmawrites]

A Hairy Situation

The next few one-shots might be about certain anxieties the different members of the space family might feel. It'll be centered around Pidge of course but everyone should remember that even defenders of the universe have insecurities. This one is about Keith and Pidge.

The Times They Remembered Pidge Was a Girl 

One-Shot 5: A Hairy Situation

(FF | | AO3) 

"Take cover!"

Through the chaos Pidge couldn't even pinpoint who screamed those words but she took them to heart and scrambled across tiled floors, taking shelter behind a large pillar. She crouched down low, breathing heavily as shots from the enemy continued to fire around her, creating spider web cracks across the floor to ceiling windows several yards in front of her.

Someone slammed into her and she almost sent a shock of electricity through them before she realized the armor wasn't grey and purple but red and white.

"Keith!"

"Sorry," he huffed, yanking her back behind the enormous column just as a laser splintered the floor right where her head had been. "Didn't realize you were hiding here." Keith hunkered low beside her, his armor looking damaged and frayed, blackened with soot and gunpowder, and Pidge was sure hers was looking the same.

"This isn't good," she said, wincing as the ceiling started to crumble around them, sending up clouds of smoke and pellets of rock and stone. "I don't know how much more damage this building can take."

Keith hunched over close to her, raising his arms as if he was going to embrace her in order to block small pieces of concrete from landing on her head. The other Paladins were shouting in their ears through their helmet, letting them know they made it safely outside.

"They were closer to the doors," Pidge said with a sigh. "At least they made it. If we wanted to make it out the same way we'd have to blast through an army."

"And we have no time to wait," Keith said grudgingly. The floor trembled when a large pipe fell from above. Columns were crumbling and the enemy fire continued- and it wouldn't stop. These were robots shooting at them and they were disposable to the enemy. Pidge briefly thought of Rover. She didn't think they were disposable but-

"Pidge, we have to go," Keith said, standing up.

The green Paladin glanced around the collapsing column, ducking back just as quick when a laser streaked against the edge of her helmet.

"Okay, let's go."

The building rumbled as debris continued to fall. The two Paladins ran, jumping over stone and exposed piping as the enemies continued to shoot at them. Pidge could feel heat radiating from shots that made it too close. They ran towards the glass window as it continued to crack under the stress of the falling building and the bullet holes scattered across its surface. She could see their reflections, jagged lines cutting through their bodies as bits of the window started to fracture- but most of her attention was on the large body of grey and purple closing in on them like a large wave at sea-

"Keep close, Pidge!" she heard Keith shout.

But then there was only a hot, bright light and a sharp pain in her head as she was thrown to the floor.

"Pidge!"

Her helmet flew off, cracked and broken, sizzling from the laser that made contact. Pidge groaned, her sight going fuzzy and the sounds of fighting around her muffling. Not good. She groped for her useless helmet. It did its job. Her head hurt- she hissed. Hurt badly. But she felt no wetness. She wasn't bleeding. But that didn't mean she was out of danger. Just as her fingers wrapped around the cracked metal of her helmet she felt someone yank her to her feet.

"Don't put it on," Keith said, practically dragging her to the glass. "Hold on to me."

She did what she was told almost mechanically. Trust her fellow Paladins. She couldn't think straight right now, the pain was too much-

A shatter-

Free fall-

Her hair whipped through the air briefly before Keith wrapped himself around her, pressing her against his chest, his arms securely cushioning her exposed head. He turned mid-flight and his back made contact with the ground and air rushed out of him-

"Are you okay?" she managed to say, rolling off him.

"Are you?" he asked, struggling to his knees. "Your head-"

"A bit better now," she said, coughing as dust billowed around them. The building continued to crumble. Still she felt that constant pressure- that warmth and intensity-

"Fire," Keith said, as if reading her mind. "We have to go. It'll blow-"

"Yeah," she said, head still spinning. She got up, stumbling before Keith leaned down, throwing her arm over his shoulders as he wrapped his around her waist.

"Let's go."

He took it slow for her but she could feel the urgency. There were smaller explosions behind them sending heat waves as little pieces of flaming wreckage flew past them. Pidge heard Keith talking to someone, surely the other Paladin's, but she found it hard to focus. She couldn't take another hit like that to the head- even in her condition she knew that much.

The ground rolled and the air seemed to still for a second before-

The explosion was so loud she heard nothing and they both rocketed to the floor and she felt fire-

"Shit, shit-"

She felt Keiths hands on her body- patting frantically-

"What-"

"Don't move," he said through clenched teeth. A few seconds passed and she could smell smoke and char as the ground burned beside them.

And in the distance she heard roars.

"You're riding with me," Keith said, hauling her up as the rest of the Paladin's arrived. "I don't trust you to drive your lion right now."

"Don't baby me," she managed to lace together.

She thought she saw Keith smile.

"I still smell smoke," Pidge said, coughing violently as she slumped beside the red lions console. She looked up as Keith navigated back to the castleship.

"Yeah," he started grimly. "That's probably our armor. Or your…"

Pidge narrowed her eyes. The way he trailed off-

"My what?"

Keith glanced down at her briefly, hesitating.

"My what, Keith?"

She didn't get it. Was she dying? No way. Where's her helmet anyway? Oh. In her lap. Man, her head was spinning. Coran was going to kill her for damaging the suit.

Her thoughts were a jumbled mess and she tucked her head against her legs, wrapping her arms around her knees, trying to lessen the throbbing pain.

"What a fun mission, huh?" she said sarcastically, voice muffled against her suit.

Keith was silent.

Her head hurt too much to think about it.

.

.

They walked through the castle halls silently and slowly some time after all the Paladins returned and recuperated a bit. Coran saw to her major injuries but everyone was strangely quiet. The boys- her boys were extremely apologetic and though they didn't say anything she could tell they felt guilty for leaving her and Keith inside. There was nothing they could do though, she told them that. There was no other option.

Keith was silent throughout the whole ordeal. He didn't even rise to Lance's bait when the blue Paladin started teasing the two. Keith was a constant presence around her for the next couple of hours, which was strange at first but she understood. She turned the corner and he kept pace with her, which she appreciated. There was a slight tension in his jaw, as if he were clenching his teeth and his movements were stiff. She could tell he was concerned. In his own way.

"Are you going to follow me around all day?" Pidge asked, the corner of her mouth lifting upwards.

"I'm not following you," Keith said, sounding slightly flustered. Pidge smiled some more.

"You were acting weird on the lion."

"Because your head is probably all scrambled," he retorted.

"I got shot," she defended fiercely, feeling guilty immediately afterwards because the look that wracked the red Paladin's face clearly indicated he felt guilty as well. "I'm fine," she added in a lousy attempt to placate him.

"I should take you to a healing pod," Keith said.

"I have to fix my armor." Keith sighed, stopping in his tracks. Pidge stopped a few feet ahead. "What?"

"What if you have a concussion or something?" Keith asked, a strangled look on his face.

"I'm fine," she insisted. "Coran said so."

"You could barely form a coherent sentence!" he said heatedly.

Pidge grumbled, frustrated. "Are you going to fight with me when I'm injured?" she asked slyly.

Keith groaned, irritated. "That's why I'm telling you to go heal."

"Only if you tell me what you were talking about before," she pried. Keith grabbed her roughly by the arm, pulling her through the halls. "Keith!"

He stopped her in front of a shiny door, their aggravated faces staring back at them. Her eyes narrowed to her hair…or what was left of it.

Her fingers moved deftly to caress the charred ends of her brown locks.

"I was afraid you were going to die," Keith admitted softly. "You were shot- when your helmet flew off I thought-" he stopped. They stood together in silence; his eyebrows knit together- a pained expression on his face. "And then the explosion- Pidge, you're lucky the only thing that burned was part of your hair."

She almost didn't hear him. She continued to touch the hardened ends. Then she noticed the distraught look on his face and she cleared her throat.

"You're right," she said, alittle too chipper. "It's only a little bit. Not a big deal, Keith!" She clamped his shoulder comfortingly.

"Pidge-"

"You're right," she repeated. "I'll let Coran know I might take up the healing pod offer. I'll see you around."

With that she left.

It was too blunt and abrupt even for him. He was left feeling worse than before. She tried to console him. Keith felt sick. He felt like he was trying to run miles and miles without covering any distance at all.

"Don't put it on," he had told her. Her helmet was a hazard but he told her not to put it on.

Guilt is a monster that doesn't go away.

.

.

Pidge sat on her bed later that night, eying herself in a small handheld mirror with an ever-present frown on her face as that days events flashed through her mind. When they returned to the castle everyone treated her normally- well as normally as they do after a tough battle. Before all this she had been considering trying to grow her hair out again. She hadn't made much progress but now it looked like she was back to square one. Pidge swallowed, glaring at her reflection when someone knocked on her door.

She sighed, dropping the mirror onto her pillow as she walked sluggishly to the door, counting on her fingers. "No, Coran, I don't need any more time in the healing pod. No, Hunk, I don't need help fixing my helmet. No, Lance, I have no dirt for you. Keith didn't say or do anything embarrassing. No, Shiro, you don't have to worry- I'm fine. No, Allura, I don't want any hair advice-"

"It's Keith."

Pidge stopped at the door. "Oh."

"And I have hair advice."

Pidge raised an eyebrow, allowing the door to slide open. "Oh?" she asked, arms crossed. Keith stood there, looking distinctly ruffled. "Did you run a marathon?" she asked, snickering in her hands.

"No," he said, making his way inside without waiting for the invite. "I searched the whole castleship looking for you."

"Why didn't you just come to my room?" she asked, closing the door behind her.

"Are you kidding? You sleep everywhere but your room," Keith exaggerated, taking in his surroundings. He nudged aside some device on the ground she must have been tinkering with at some point.

Pidge shrugged. "Okay, you got me there. So, what's up?" Keith turned to face her, holding up scissors. Pidge held up her hands in defiance. "I know I annoyed you today but you really came to kill me?" she asked.

Keith looked confused. "What? No, I'm here to cut your hair."

Pidge touched the burned strands carefully. "Um."

"Why would you think that?" Keith implored, slightly offended.

Pidge just laughed. "You really didn't have to come."

"You're room is a mess," he said, ignoring her statement.

"It's not a mess," she said, affronted "It's organized in a way only I know."

"You have random gears lying around-"

"Organized."

Keith rolled his eyes. "Whatever, come here," he said, taking a seat on her bed.

She sat on the floor in front of him, no questions asked, picking at some wires she had lying around. "So why are you here?" she mumbled.

"To cut your hair," he repeated, taking hold of some of her brown locks so gently she almost didn't notice.

"But why?"

Keith was silent for a while.

"Because you were upset," he stated simply. With a steady snip she watched bits of her charred hair fall around her. "You looked…very upset."

"You looked upset," she said, pouting. Keith snorted. She picked up a strand off the floor, twirling it between two fingers.

They fell into comfortable silence for a while, just the steady snip of the scissors echoing in her room.

"Sometimes I miss my long hair," she finally admitted. Keith said nothing but a slight pause in his trim told her he was listening. "I mean I cut it short for a reason. To figure out what happened to my family, you know?" she sighed. "I could grow it longer but it's just more convenient now, being a Paladin and all. But sometimes…I don't know."

Keith ran a comb through her hair and she briefly wondered when he pulled it out.

"Your hair doesn't define you," he said. "And it looks fine. It was just the ends."

"I know," she muttered. She laughed quietly. "Your hair might be longer than mine."

"Here," Keith said, leaning over her and handing her her discarded mirror.

Pidge glanced at her newly trimmed hair, letting her fingers run against the soft ends.

"Thanks, Keith," she said, angling the mirror so she could see his face. He smiled at her and she knew this was for both of them. All monsters could be slain. "Thank you."

.

.

Pidge spoke again later. "You're sweeping up the hair off my floor you know."

.

.

Authors Note:

What cuties.

I had this written up for a long, long time but never got to looking it over. I need an editor lol. Been busy getting stuff ready for med school (but also just been lazy tbh).

Anyway I had a lot of fun exploring Keith and Pidge's relationship. Big brother Keith. This is all supposed to be strictly platonic fyi lol but I mean interpret it however you want ig

Next might be either Hunk and Pidge or Shiro and Pidge.

I am at a COMPLETE loss for what to do with Lance, Coran, and Allura. What insecurities could Pidge have that I can connect to them? SOS. Help wanted! Willing to pay with praise and gratitude.

-Magma

#pidge #keith #voltron fanfic #voltron #vld #vld fanfic #magma writes #the times they remembered pidge was a girl #magma speaks #big brother keith? yessir #my writing