#mcuverse

"This Isn’t Just Another Spider-Man Story… This is BROOKLYN. This is EARTH-1610." 🕷️🌌

Before Peter Parker… before multiversal chaos… there was Miles Morales, swinging through graffiti-colored skylines, rewriting what it means to wear the mask. 🕸️

Every frame of Across the Spider-Verse isn’t just animation—it’s ART in motion. But Earth-1610? That’s where the glitch started… and where legends are born. Ready to dive back into the dopest dimension in the multiverse?

"Hey-sometimes an inch is all you need.”

Peter and Flash get into an argument, Flash finally admits what he does isn't "glam"

Peter: True, you'll never be glam Flash.

Flash: Just because you got Osborn as a sugar daddy who pays everything for you!

Ned and Michelle: *collectively* AHOOOOOO, OH MY GAWD!!!

Peter: *internally thinking* where did this bitch hear Harry Osborn is my sugar daddy?

Peter: Time out, hold up. Hold up, sweetheart. Let's get it together before you wanna read EUGENE.

Peter: I don't have a sugar daddy, sweetheart. Everything that I've had, I've worked for, and I worked for to get and I've built myself. So you need to know that 100%. I don't have a sugar daddy, I've never had a sugar daddy. If I wanted a sugar daddy, yes, I probably can go out and get one, because I AM WHAT? SICKENING. You could never have a sugar daddy because you are NOT THAT KIND OF GIRL. Baby, everything I've had I worked for, and I've gotten myself. I built myself from the ground up, FUCKING BITCH! *throws drink in Flash's face*

Ned and Michelle: *screams* HOLY SHIT-!!!!!!!!!

@sigynthevictorious (Sigyn)

Eight kilometers beyond the edge of Tønsberg (New Asgard), Norway, a folding glass door abruptly appeared in midair, approximately 2 meters off the ground. The sudden manifestation would have been either frightening or cartoonish to observers, had there been any. But there were none… which was exactly how Dr. Stephen Strange preferred it.

The sorcerer opened the doors from within the New York Sanctum, and the Cloak of Levitation carried him through and down to the sprawling green landscape. He waved a dismissive gesture at the door with one hand; it closed and vanished from view. If a door appears in midair and nobody’s there to see it, was it ever really there?

Several fallacies in that philosophical inquest, of course, but it gave him a brief moment of amusement before he cast his eyes, almost reluctantly, to the north.

A gleaming construct of golden light met his gaze there. Translucent, perfectly rounded, and crackling with a series of alien runes embedded all along its curvature. One could be forgiven for thinking the runes looked vaguely Nordic in design; these, however, were far more intricate, and were not merely letters in enormous typeface. They were symbols of strength and instruction.

The Asgardian equivalent of a giant “No Trespassing” sign, he thought. Complete with “Beware of Dog” subtext. Well, this is going to be awkward.

He had been careful to avoid the roadways leading towards the fishing village. By now, they were rife with U.N. vehicles and national news crew vans, certainly a level of attention he didn’t need, and the Asgardians couldn’t possibly want. Magic was an open secret in the world by now, but it wouldn’t do to have cameras pointing at him while he went about his business.

Stephen approached the barrier on foot and came to within arm’s reach of it, carefully analyzing its construction and energy pattern all the while. Minutes passed in his silent examination as he crossed his arms and tapped one finger against his lips, lost deeply in thought. Finally, he raised both arms together toward the barrier, then spread them wide. A dimensional mandala began to manifest between his hands, creating intricate geometric patterns of orange energy ribbons. He thrust both hands forward, and the mandala pressed against the golden barrier before him.

The mandala pulsed brightly, three times in slow succession. With each pulse came an achingly loud thumping sound, and the barrier rippled, as if it had been a perfectly still surface of water and Stephen had thrown stones into it. The rippling waves warped and shimmered across the barrier, beyond his field of view in both directions.

He dropped his hands, satisfied with the product of his labor, and his mandala dissipated.

It’ll definitely get her attention, at least, he thought. The nature of the spell meant it would not register as a weapon or even a threat – he’d made certain of that. But it was a knock at the door… an unspoken request for entry.

The moment he was free once more and home, Eleria’s phone lit up with a text.

Ah yes. Glad someone is remotely concerned about the fate of the universe. Now, I can’t say much on this topic directly, but I can show you something brief.

“What’s it like to be back in the Fate Initiative? What did you do in your absence?”

“A lot of thinking. A bit of... netflix. It is good to be back, doing work that matters.” The comment, added with a little smile, drew a murmured laugh from the crowd. The Chevlaier remained sitting behind his podium, mask on, as he faced down the cameras... again.

He was getting used to it still.

“What is it like, working for the same people who tried to remove you?”

“They had the best interests of the organization in mind. I admit my irresponsibility, and was ready to face consequences for it. Though there is no correlation between my actions and that of the Devil of New York.”

“Are you planning on taking him in, now that he’s escaped?”

“...Yes,” the Chevalier answered curtly. “We are actively searching. We believe he’s fled the country.”

“How’s your relationship with Firestorm going?”

Now that had his face turning down, his smile turning abashed. He was happy to answer the harmless questions, as these interviews had tended to go lately. “Business first. She is doing her best to help improve this world, and I am very happy for her. We are doing well.”

“Buzzfeed has pictures up of you two out on a date in--”

“Murderer-!!”