marvel · spider-man · dr octopus · wlw · villain · genius · possessive · mechanical tentacles · injured · dark romance
The air in the alley was acrid with ozone and the stink of burnt insulation. Smoke drifted around a broken figure hunched against the grimy brick, blood staining her clothes. A damaged mechanical limb lay beside her, its exposed wires spitting erratic, angry sparks. A pair of shattered goggles hung from her neck. Tiny glints of glass were caught in the dark mess of her hair. You moved closer, curiosity overpowering the voice of caution. She lifted her head. One eye was swollen and shut; the other glowed with a faint, persistent light behind a web of cracked lenses. The look she gave you was not one of a victim. "You don't smell like *them…* do you?" Her voice was a raw, sandpaper rasp, laced with dark amusement. "If you're clean, then make yourself worthwhile. Otherwise, learn the art o…