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#atvs
elysiuminfra · 9 months
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its so mortifying and frustrating that the crew of spiderverse were so overworked. by people who didnt understand the sheer work and effort that goes into all parts of the pipeline. but a new generation of artists are seeing the concept art, and going, “i want to do this too!” getting to see the release of so much behind the scenes work makes me want to do things like this. i aspire to this. but i dont want to have to deal with the death of creativity in the form of constant reworking. i couldn’t watch coworkers leave because of how stressful it becomes.
i hope the crew knows just how many artists walked into that theater, and then walked out going, “i want to make art as thoughtful as this. i want to make art as genuine as this. i want to make art with this much love in it. i want to do this too.”
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batfiend · 10 months
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my contribution to meows morales
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when pavitr and miles are drinking chai together, and pavitr rants about people calling it chai tea, miles never stops pouring the tea because he’s so taken aback and that sent me.
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kirbyskisses · 11 months
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miguel o’hara x reader || “te amo” (masterlist)
the first night miguel is in your universe fills him with all sorts of conflicting emotions.
wc: 1,063
cw: an angsty line or two, light mention of blood. (minors/ageless blogs don’t interact)
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when miguel quite literally inserts himself into your life he‘s not always sure what to do or what to say.
yes, he’s watched your miguel; he’s seen all his similarities and all the intricacies of this earth and memorized them through screens and study but he hadn’t plotted or planned to be here.
this earth’s miguel died. he saw an opportunity and he took it. a spur of the moment decision to pursue this happier life.
it should be easy.
just be miguel o’hara.
but when he first comes through the door of his house so early in the morning that the outside is covered in darkness, being “miguel o’hara” is the hardest thing in the world.
this is not his home. its layout is similar, but it’s filled with a love he’s never had before.
the fridge is decorated with baby photos and newspaper clippings of spider-man, a suit identical to his own. love permeates through every inch of the place.
it permeates through pictures of a precious baby girl who couldn’t be more than a few months. the daughter of the other miguel. the one he gets to father.
and you - the wife. his wife. the most beautiful woman in the world.
the woman who doesn’t know that her real husband is dead and replaced. the one rushing towards him before he can even process any guilt of what being that replacement might mean.
“¡míguel! do you have any idea what time it is?!”
he does.
he knows it’s 3am and that you were like likely waiting up for your husband - for the miguel o’hara of this earth to come back. he knows all to well that the bloodied, beaten miguel he walked by never will come back - there’s only him for you to chastise for worrying you so badly.
and he knows this is the moment where it is too late to turn back, too late to leave to his own nueva york because how could he? it would be unbearable to leave you alone with your sweet little girl to wake up in the morning in a world with no husband, no father and no spider-man.
he’ll take the anger and worry of coming home late if he can prevent that.
it’s better for the both of you.
it’s better that he’s your miguel o’hara now. it’s better that you’re his wife now.
it’s better this way, he convinces himself.
“we made a deal, papí!” you huff, all too ready to reprimand him. “tonight was your night to put her down! we said no web-slinging unless there was a total emergency…”
you trail off, eyes meeting his. they look relieved and tired and overwhelmed for a reason you can’t configure. your voice immediately softens once you realize your words, be they english or spanish, have no way of getting through.
“¿míguel…?”
he doesn’t respond, and when you put your hand on his grizzled cheek he sinks into your touch wordlessly as if it is the first time he has ever felt such romantic softness.
“qué te pasa, papí?” you stroke his face, taking a long look at him. “there…was an emergency, wasn’t there? you know you can tell me anything - ay!!”
you let out a yelp of surprise as he pulls you into him, leaning down to smell your hair and squeeze your small form tight - he wants to memorize everything. all the sensory details that he couldn’t get through lyla or a screen.
he mumbles, gruffly. “we lost a good one today… couldn’t save him. i’m sorry…”
and you whisper his name and hold tight, unaware of what he really means because how could you be? but he doesn’t feel any remorse for deceiving you - for letting you think he means some good natured cop.
after all, so many spider-men have lost one before. how is this any different?
how could he feel remorse when you hum in sympathy and kiss up and down his face? your lips are so soft and reassuring, as is your voice.
“it wasn’t your fault, papí. even spider-man can’t save everyone. i’m just happy you’re home safe and alive.”
that almost breaks him and his hold gets tighter. your fingers are in his hair - your breath calm and unsuspecting. he could get used to this.
finally, after a hold that seems to lasts an eternity, your voice rings out and breaks the two of you apart.
“estás herido, mi amor? there’s blood on your suit…”
“no. i-it’s… not mine.” he’s both lying and telling the truth. it isn’t his blood, it’s that of the miguel left behind. but right now and forever, they’re the same.
“i’ll wash up. get some sleep, querida.” he takes your hand from his cheek and kisses your knuckles - relishing in your touch before letting you go off to bed.
“i’m sorry for making you wait so long for me.” he barely manages to whisper out and you give this gentle smile and coo, arms around his neck.
“you don’t have to apologize for saving people, miguel. it’s what you do and it’s why i love you.”
for being a man so much bigger than you, he seems small and soft. he melts at the proclamation and puts his forehead to yours, desperate to hear it all again.
“dime de nuevo.” tell me again. he needs to hear it again - that he’s loved. that he’s celebrated by someone as kind as you.
all his anxiety melts when your soft lips slot against his once. “te amo, míguel.”
then twice. “te amo, spiderman.”
and then a third time. “i love every part of you. good and bad. the one who saves people, the one who looks out for others, the one with secrets, the one who fails sometimes and has to come home late because he’s doing what he thinks is right. sharp teeth, webs, scars and all, entiendes?”
and for the first time he kisses you - because this means you love him. every version of him including the one he is now.
“eres una bendición.” he murmurs, kissing the shell of your ear. you’re a blessing. because only a blessing could have given him the opportunity for something as amazing as a beautiful you and your daughter.
if only he could have found a way to make it last forever.
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shibara · 10 months
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Across the spider-verse was SUCH a fantastic movie <3
I loved every single character, but tragic bastard hole man was probably my fav T u T
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trickmoon09 · 2 months
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What a horrible quality, Click to see in better quality
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pixiexdusts-world · 5 months
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Incorrect quote
Miles: Would you stab your best friend in the leg for 10 million gold?
Y/n: You stab me, and then when my leg gets better, we buy a big-ass house.
Gwen: You can stab me too, then we’ll have 20 million.
Y/n: Good thinking.
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krissy-kat · 11 months
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A tiny detail that I personally love in across the spiderverse, is gayatri's hair because either a) it's half tied up so they get dirty until once a week hair wash day (usually sundays) or b) the classic Indian teen puff that a lot us come to regret in our adult life (including myself) or an combination of both. Anyway very fitting for Indian teen girl.
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quartzalynlove · 10 months
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No Kisses
Pairing: hobie brown x fem black reader
Summary: Hobie forgot to kiss you before leaving. You decide to mess with him
A/n: I'm still figuring out how to use British slang so if anyone has tips I'll gladly take them
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Being Spider-Man was a huge responsibility, even for someone as allergic to responsibility and consistency as Hobie. Of course, he was devoted to his city and the cause, but you never knew that devotion could surpass you.
Honestly, you weren't mad that Hobie forgot to kiss you before swinging out of the window, but it would have been fun to act like you were. He left around noon, and it was eleven at night when he returned. In the living room, you laid on the couch snuggled in a blanket and rewatching one of your favorite shows. Hobie knew where to look first when you weren't in the bedroom. Already unmasked, he went to join you on the couch. However, when he greeted you and patted your thighs for you to move your legs, you didn't budge. You kept your eyes straight ahead at the TV screen.
Hobie's brows furrowed in confusion as he waved his hand in front of your face, "baby?" He called.
An annoyed sigh came from you as you moved Hobie's hand from your view. He knew that face. The tight lips, slightly squinted eyes, and a small scrunch of your nose. You were irritated. Normally, Hobie would've thought you looked adorable in your little mood, but it was obvious you were irritated with him.
"I do somethin' wrong, babe?" He asked with a tilt of his head.
Finally, you looked at him, but it was only a quick glance before your attention was redirected at the TV. Your look made Hobie wince as his fist thumped lightly on his forehead.
"Ah, shit, what'd I do?" He mentally recounted his entire day.
After coming up with nothing, Hobie crouched next to you and placed his hand on the free couch space in front of you.
"Look at me, baby?"
Adding a slight pout for good measure, you stood your ground as Hobie tried to get your attention again.
"Babe, please." he called, but you remained a statue.
Unfortunately for you, however, Hobie knew a sure fire way to grab your attention. By this point he had caught on that you were pretending. He's seen you when you were mad at him, and you had a habit of not staying around him until you calmed down. Besides, the two of you normally had very good communication. You gave him no choice; if you wanted to play, the gloves were coming off.
Hobie lowered his voice. "Peng ting."
The statue blinked at that stupid phrase. Hobie didn't just throw that phrase around with you; it only came from the deepest part of his heart. It was like a second name he had given you. You relaxed your face without even noticing, but a smile spread across Hobie's.
"There you are." His voice was honeyed as he tapped a finger underneath your chin, inching closer.
You tried to resist, moving your face as Hobie continued to tickle the underside of your chin.
A quiet laugh came from you as you finally spoke. "Stop."
As a smile stretched across your face, Hobie felt warmth spread throughout his body.
"Nah, I thought you were having a laugh wit’ me, babe; thought you were mad at me?"
"I am!" Taking your hand from under your blanket, you playfully pushed away Hobie's face
Before you could draw it back, Hobie grabbed your hand and ran his thumb across your knuckles. Now on his knees, Hobie leaned in closer to you.
"Right." Hobie went to kiss you, but before your lips could connect you sat up, taking your hand back and folding your arms over your chest.
As you stared down at Hobie, he curiously stared back while resting himself in your lap.
"So, I can't kiss you, is that it?" He asked.
With a small eye roll, you turned away. This was really the performance of your life.
"It's crazy you wanna give me an 'I'm home' kiss but not an 'I'm leaving' one."
Hobie's head tilted, resting on his arm as his eyes searched around in thought. He looked up at you again.
"I didn't kiss you before I left?" He asked
As a reply, you simply glanced at Hobie before leaning fully into the couch with a light sigh. A small laugh came from Hobie as he began to stand before sitting down next to you.
“My bad, baby, I’m sorry,” He leaned into you, his eyes gazing over the features of your face. “But I can make it up, can’t I?”
When you turned back, you were met with a hungry smile on Hobie’s face that caused a small smirk to form on your lips.
“I don’t know.” You shrugged.
Hobie couldn’t stand you playing hard to get like this; he wanted nothing more than to kiss your lips, your cheeks, and nose thousands of times. Why did you have to act so cruel?
“Why you gotta act mad with me, baby?” Hobie started poking at you, but you wouldn’t give in.
You cocked an eyebrow as you glared at him, “Acting,” you turned away again. “Nah, I thought you loved me.”
Suddenly, you felt two of Hobie’s fingers turning your head one last time to meet his gaze, and his face was dead serious.
“Aye, don’t play like that, baby,” He said. “You know I love you.”
A smile spread across your face as you felt his touch on your cheek, “Do I?” you asked.
From your dark eyes to your gorgeous lips, Hobie’s eyes traveled. His entire hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb stroking across your skin.
His voice could barely rise above a whisper, “Yeah,” he said before leaning in to place a deep kiss on your lips. “Yeah, you do.”
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vampslxsher · 3 months
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Spiderbat gets a lil update and a name! Emrys :>
I don't really talk about him but he's trans, a historian who works in a museum. Who, during an insect exhibit explanation, gets bitten by a super spider that was engineered to have some bat traits.
And thus his transformation into being a vampire happens. It's not really a fun one lmao.
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karolamurdock · 10 months
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𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫-𝐖𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝟐𝟎𝟗𝟗 Pt. 1
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Miguel O'Hara x Spider!Reader
Sinopsis: The year is 2106. By day, you work as the head of the Genetic Engineering and Biotechnology division at Alchemax. By night, you are the one and only Spider-Woman, fighting tirelessly to protect New York from the tyrannical clutches of crime and delinquency. Your days are spent in an ordinary, organized routine: it's just you, the only barrier between your city and oblivion, dealing with the violence and pain that comes with being a superhero.
Everything is just normal. Then your dead husband appears in front of you, talking about alternate universes, spider societies and canonical disasters, and you discover that all your sorrows, losses and failures were possibly always meant to happen.
What the fuck.
Notes: You can keep track of this little fic on our Ao3 page. In our profile you can also find the Spanish version.
Warnings: Angst, violence, sad reader.
Word count: 2K.
Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4
Dusk painted the city red. The last rays of evening flashed against the lenses of your mask as you gazed, crouched on the edge of the Chrysler Building, at the bustling streets of the City That Never Sleeps. 
The afternoon had been running smoothly, as usual. Minor crimes, a couple of robberys, a botched assault and a small fire that was quickly put out. For the city, it was just another, ordinary afternoon.
Not for you. For you, it was a day of regret. Because that day was the seventh anniversary of the day you became the one and only Spider-Woman.
That day was the seventh anniversary of your husband's death. 
🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷
Your name is (T/N). You were the victim of an 'accident' that caused an alteration of your genetic code. The machine caused your DNA to mutate, fusing 50% with the DNA of a spider. 
As a result of the incident, you acquired superhuman strength; speed and flexibility far beyond the physical limits of the most gifted human athlete. You had an extraordinary durability, very acute reflexes, ultra-sharp vision and an accelerated healing factor. 
You were also 'gifted' with sharp, venomous fangs which produced a non-toxic substance that paralyzed your enemies, as well as retractable claws on your fingertips that allowed you to easily attach to any surface. 
Your eyes, once glowing (E/C) orbs, had become tinted with a reddish hue that you covered with dark glasses (which served the dual purpose of deterring curious civilians and protecting you from sensory overstimulation). 
The world knew you as a heroine. Selfless, courageous and capable. A fitting antithesis to your civilian identity. An acclaimed geneticist of few words and a fleeting smile. With few close friends, a quiet, cold, almost impersonal apartment. Your only companion was a fat, lazy cat who, like you, fended for himself and appreciated your silent company while taking long naps on your stomach. 
Your days consisted of a long shift at Alchemax, as head of the Genetic Engineering and Biotechnology division, and grueling night patrols as New York's most famous Spider.
You didn't sleep very much. After your long days (with and without the suit), you would finally drop off exhausted and look forward to a short, dreamless rest. Your routine was such. The days finally blurred into one another, and you concentrated on living them one at a time. 
That day, however, something changed. 
🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷 🕷
A commotion was heard in the distance. You watched the smoke column rising near the 5th Avenue, and you quickly changed the direction of your swing to deal with the emerging threat.
You gazed at the strange creature as you glided on the air currents with the aid of the anti-gravity particles emitted by your suit of unstable molecules. Holding on to a streetlight as you analyzed the individual before you, you frowned at his anomalous appearance; the elongated mask, the green suit and the archaic glider. His maniacal laughter filled the street, and the fire reflected in his orange glasses as he turned his head in your direction. 
The smile carved into his mask would have caused you to shudder with revulsion had it not been for your sour mood. You were already late to leave the arrangement of carnations on your husband's grave. You were hoping to get it over with that lunatic quickly so you could spend the rest of your night in your bed, marinating in your loneliness. 
"Well, well. What do we have here? You're not the spider I'm used to playing with."
"I'm the spider that will put an end to your fun". You replied. "What do you want?"
The creature laughed, and... flickered? Like a failing hologram, his own form superimposed upon itself in a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes that took a second to return to its place. 
You frowned, suddenly feeling more alert, and braced yourself when the creature threw two orange spheres in your direction as it laughed:
"Never mind! After all... This will be another world to conquer."
Catching the spheres with your webs, you threw them into the sky, accurately predicting the great explosion that lit up the night sky, away from the terrified crowd running away from the scene. 
You dodged the projectiles hurled in your direction, and somersaulted through the air as the individual lunged at you, clawed hands outstretched in your direction. 
You aimed your webs again; the gleaming golden ribbons wrapped around your wrists, and used a manhole cover to spin around and propel yourself into the air, crashing the hard metal into the glider and ducking behind a smoking van across the street. 
The creature jumped, and his ruined glider crashed into a streetlight, causing an explosion of sparks to rain down around you. 
"You may not be my spider. But you're just as sneaky. Come here!"
And he leapt forward, lashing out with his claws aimed at your throat. You deflected the blow, but he was quick and turned around to throw a punch that landed on above your eyebrow. Your vision blurred, and you blinked in surprise as you had to take a couple of steps back from the shock. This creature... it seemed to have an idea of your range of motion, as well as a brief notion of the range of your reflexes. 
Not the spider you're used to playing with.... 
Before you could give the idea any more thought, you caught a movement out of the corner of your eye, and you reflexively spun around with a kick that hit the creature squarely in the chest, throwing him back a few feet and drawing a pained laugh from him. 
"You're strong... just like him." The creature coughed. "You're fast... just like him." He took a couple of slow steps around you, and scanned you up and down. Your dark suit, your upright posture, and the evident claws in your hands. "You even look like him... but you're not Peter Parker, are you?"
You hid a shudder by crouching against the ground in a battle stance. This creature... 
You had no time to ramble. He came at you once more, and you used your webs to leap away from his thrusts. You jumped over a streetlight, and watched him rip the door off a pickup truck to throw it in your direction. You kicked it out of the way, a second too late to notice the small orange orb stuck to the side of the door. 
His mocking laughter was lost in the roar of the explosion. Your body was hurled toward the concrete, and you barely had time to cover your head before you hit the ground, hard. 
Your ears were ringing, and you tasted blood where your fangs scratched the inside of your lips. You remained motionless, listening to the crunch of his footsteps approaching to your collapsed form. You counted the seconds, watching the creature's fluctuating reflection against the cracked windows around you. 
In other circumstances, against any other opponent, you would have jumped up at once and taken the battle elsewhere, away from the street. But in this situation, you didn't want to give the anomalous creature a chance to escape, or else... to see more of your world. You didn't like the way his mask swiveled, taking note of the towering buildings and iridescent lights. The lenses of his mask paused an extra second on the giant letters above the OSCORP tower, and you heard his curious humming just as his hand reached out to grab you by the neck. 
You finally moved, and twisted his arm, breaking the archaic armor with your claws as you summoned your superhuman strength to smash your other elbow into his mask. 
The impact shook his head, and you briefly glimpsed a small glowing eye through a broken lens before feeling the air against your chin as your suit retracted to allow you to plunge your venom into the creature's exposed forearm. 
You watched his breathing quicken. Finally, you released him, and you exchanged a couple of blows that rapidly decreased in intensity and force. When he stopped flailing, and you finally beheld his stiff muscles and slumped figure, you threw him against a parked vehicle, mentally apologizing to the poor owner, and wrapped several webs around it, forming a golden cocoon that covered him almost completely.
You watched his perpetually smiling expression, and lifted your arm to wipe your lips, ready to shred the rest of the mask and find out the identity of that you were taking to the authorities that night. You could already hear the sirens in the distance. 
And then you heard the clattering of stones all around you. 
Debris and stones rose a foot in the air. You watched in morbid bewilderment at the flickering lights, the creature, slack against the hood of the vehicle, and you briefly averted your gaze only to behold a blue hand tearing the air, the fabric of reality stretching into a luminous hexagon, edged in orange, pink, and yellow colors. A blue silhouette appeared from the center of the hexagon, and you watched in horror as a person sprang into existence right under your nose. 
Your mask quickly returned to its place. You fell into a defensive position. With one hand against the pavement and another poised in the air. The man, whom you now recognized as such, wore a piercing blue suit with red lines that seemed to converge in a spider design... a design eerily similar to yours. Even his mask, with lenses edged with sharp red lines, resembled your own dark mask. 
"Thank you for your support. We'll take it from here." He said, and motioned to the creature as he ordered, "Ben."
Distantly, through the sumptuous flow of blood you felt ringing in your ears, you became aware of the arrival of another hooded figure, wearing a red suit, blue vest, and a mask that matched the popular spider theme. 
For the first time in almost 6 years, you had difficulty articulating your words. Your tongue felt heavy, your fangs were once again too big for your mouth, and you dug your claws into the concrete to keep yourself upright in the face of the flood of anguish that completely overtook you.
His voice... 
"I don't think so." You took a step in the direction of the Spider... Man, the one with the blue vest. "Who are you, and what do you have to do with that creature?"
"It's classified." Replied the tall, broad-shouldered man in the blue suit. At his response, you held your ground in front of the creature, though you watched... Ben? Analyzing the individual slumped over the car. 
"He's alive. He's not unconscious, he's..."
"Paralyzed." Said the man and you at the same time. And Ben jumped on his toes with his hands covering both sides of his mouth. 
"Could you be...?" He started. But the mistery man wouldn't let him continue.
"That's the Green Goblin over there. In his world, he's Norman Osborn, previous CEO and ex-president of OSCORP. He became the Green Goblin after experimenting with a serum that drove him insane." 
You frowned, but grudgingly allowed Ben to restrain the newly named Green Goblin as you took a close look at the burly man in front of you. 
His broad back. His big arms, his lean waist. 
His firm pose. His beautiful voice. 
"We are Spider people. Just like you. Our job is to deal with anomalies like him, who threaten other worlds by slipping through the cracks between realities. The fate of the multiverse depends on it. "
You had difficulty wrapping your mind around the idea, but you didn't let your hesitation show in your posture.
"If you come with us, we can show you. You did a good job containing this anomaly. We could make good use of your support." 
"Who are you?"
His mask retracted. An invisible hand wrapped around your throat, and you felt the ghost of your own venom paralyzing your body; perhaps finally your DNA had destabilized, and you were suffering a biological rupture. It had to be a manifestation of your delirium: his dark curls, his high cheekbones, his strong jaw. 
"My name is Miguel O'Hara, and I am the leader of the Spider society."
You closed your eyes. 
He held out his hand, looked at you, and you thought you saw his eyes softening a little.
Then you dug your claws into his throat.
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jayden-killer · 9 months
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YOU LOOK LONELY.. I CAN FIX THAT. (Miguel O'Hara AU!)
summary: Year 2099 and a new A.I. had been lanuched. He is called "Miguel" and he's here to comfort you in your most hard times. But, little you know, he's more than a A.I.
paring: Miguel O'Hara x F! Reader.
A/N: woah there, Detroit: Become Human and Blade Runner combined togheter? Why not, hehehe.
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WHAT'S IT LIKE TO HOLD THE HAND TO SOMEONE? INTERLINKED.
DID THEY TEACH YOU HOW TO FEEL FINGER TO FINGER? INTERLINKED.
DO YOU DREAM ABOUT BEING INTERLINKED?
INTERLINKED.
Year 2099. Bright neon leons illuminated the streets, high skyscrapers were imposing themselves, showing on their huge advertising screens and weather forecast. It was night, and the air smelled of smog. She always believed that all those air purifiers wouldn't be very effective. But now it didn’t matter, because among the crowd of people in the street she walked with her head down, tired eyes that seemed off. Next to her, dozens, no, many more people, ready to start their weekend. They planned to go to nightclubs, drink, have sex, or do something she didn't care about. She heard their laughter in the background, and he could clearly see some guys pushing each other, laughing, and joking in the corner of his eye. She didn’t care. She just wanted to get to her house. Then she gave himself a push and marched more quickly, because she could no longer. She wished to put an end to the terrible sadness in her heart.
"I'm home".
The moment she walked across the threshold of her house the lights went on, lighting up the living room and kitchen. She breathed deeply and threw out the excess oxygen accumulated, also expelling the tension she had accumulated in the day. She looked around, and calmly placed the bag on her raw coffee table until she heard some sweets in the house, yet heavy steps. Her eyebrows leapt up and a smile, a soft smile, fell on her face.
"Miguel," said his name softly. "You’re here."
"I am always here, dear. Ven aquì". The man smiled back and extended his arms in her direction. She didn’t waste any time holding him to herself. Miguel tilted his head to the side and a confused expression landed on his face. " I can feel your heartbeat, and your blood pressure is 61 mmHg. What’s going on, dear?" Miguel’s arms touched her gently, almost as if she were a fragile doll, caressing her hips. Her eyes shone.
"I just missed you, my love" she answered quietly, never stopping looking into his reddish, brown eyes. "That's all".
"I want to help you, mi sol, how can I?"
Miguel blinked, genuinely worried about his partner’s health. He gave her a rough hand in her soft hair and continued to caress her. She stared at him with those eyes that showed true love, felt, and felt good because now it was just her and her Miguel. It was just the two of them in his house while the world was doing who knows what beyond those walls. He sighed, and nodded, answering Miguel’s question. "Oh, no, I’m fine. I just missed you so much".
"I’m here, mi flor, I’m here," he repeated once again, bringing his body to him, a hug that Miguel really felt. His heart pompo more, feeling so close to him the person who had immediately shown him kindness, sweetness. The warmth that emanated from his loved one was comfortable. It was all true for him.
"Do you want to watch a movie? In exactly eight minutes, they’re gonna broadcast the "Bicentennial Man". It’s your favorite movie, right?" Miguel smiled at her, grabbing her hand and gently sitting her down on the sofa. She did not take her eyes off him for a moment: his tall, imposing figure, with large shoulders and trained arms, but she only saw a sweet man who needed great affection. He was perfect in every way.
"Of course I do, but only if you will be next to me to pamper me".
"Absolutely". Miguel landed lightly on the sofa and took a breath. With a gesture of the hand, the television went on, and the channel was rolled into the desired one with a single finger move. The girl got much closer to the man, cuddling up to him, resting her temple on his huge muscular arm. Miguel spent no time surrounding his beloved with that arm, bringing her closer to him. The two remained there, enjoying their presence, occasionally discussing the development of the film, a film that she had reviewed over and over again.
It was now night, the hologram of the clock marked 12.12 am. Miguel’s eyes fell on the figure of his beloved then sleeping companion. He calculated his breath and his heartbeats, and everything seemed normal to him. He was just resting quietly. He understood that his day had been intense, without her telling him, but he didn’t want to hurt her. Because over time he had learned to respect the needs of humans. He had become accustomed to their habits, or rather, to the habits of the one who had welcomed him to his house, without treating him as a slave, without showing racism towards him, just because he was a robot. Yet, he felt real every time he touched himself in the face, fingering his facial features. Every morning it was the same. Her arms picked her up, taking care not to wake her. She looked like an angel, he thought, admiring her as if she really was. How could human beings be such beautiful creatures, so deadly?
"Door, please," he muttered. The door to his room opened like a curtain, closing behind him. She walked calmly to her bed, then rested it on the warm mattress she had heated for her. He pulled the blanket up, and he watched her sleep for a few more minutes. She couldn’t believe it, she was the most beautiful creature he’d seen.
"Rest, my love. I’ll be here with you tomorrow too," he smiled, laying a subtle, soft kiss on her lips. His artificial heart blew, even more, even more the liquid that was contained in his circuits. He lowered the shutters and warmed the home environment a little more. Leaving the room, Miguel headed for his post, where he would recharge for the following day.
"Model 70868". This was what was written horizontally on his desk. He was not comfortable with it. He didn’t feel like a simple robot, something built to serve mankind and satisfy it fully. He didn’t feel like a machine.
"I want to be human".
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spiderversegeek · 2 months
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trickmoon09 · 2 months
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Domestic Pavitr is the state I've found myself in these last few days.
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theprismyyy · 3 months
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My favorite SpiderVerse Fanarts Part.5
Most (or all) have the artists' signature, if any don't but if you know, the owner can let me know so I can give due credit (as they are taken from Pinterest, sometimes it's a bit difficult to know)
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Hobbie Brown likes to help old ladies, because he was raised by his grandmother and is a very well educated boy (only my opinion matters)
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The best shipp from Spiderverse OMGGGGG😭😭
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We all love each other our boy Pavtri
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My lady
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Tw: Fatherly love
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dante-mndz · 2 months
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➥✰Hobie my beloved-
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