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#miguel o’hara x platonic! reader
cxlamarisalxmi · 11 months
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Being a variant and being on Miles’ side [GN]
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[Platonic Headcanons]
c/w: major spoilers, gender neutral terms and pronouns (they/them), no gendered terms used to describe reader, canon inaccuracies? I’m not really sure I’d just gone off what I had perceived from the movie
[Unedited]
• Miguel and Jessica had been keeping a keen eye on the teenager spider variant (you) from Earth-2315126 since you’d been bitten at five years old
• Strange thing was your father; Peter Parker was also bit, which meant your dimension had two spider variants as opposed to one— not unheard of but not common either
• It was fortunate for you however because you had someone to teach you, show you the ropes, the fact that it was your father who had become your mentor was only the icing on the cake
• And you were brought up into a spectacular spider variant in his care; strong, compassionate, kind
• Though despite having a father the pair kept a watchful eye on you regardless, seeing promise in your future and believing in your potential
• When you were fourteen your father was killed by Lizard, and for an entire year following you gave up on your heroic persona— hanging up your suit in the wake of your father’s death that rocked your entire world
• Being Spider-Man/Woman is about sacrifice, your father taught that to you when you began and you should’ve expected that you could not have it all
• A loving and doting father and the most badass secondary identity ever, it was always bound to happen and you should’ve prepared yourself for it
• But nobody could prepare themself for the loss of a loved one, and the ache in your chest and the burn in your stomach was something you’d never felt before— nor do you ever wish to feel it again
• So you gave up on the suit and you gave up on being the hero, eventually your Aunt May had stepped in and she scolded you pretty heavily about your state
• You didn’t think she had room to talk and she laid into you pretty hard for that comment because she most certainly did, Peter was her brother after all
• After you got it pretty good you decided that she was right, sulking about and ruining yourself wouldn’t change a damn thing, not only that but you knew your father would hate to see you like that
• You knew he wouldn’t ever force the suit upon you and you accepted that you had the choice to avoid dawning it ever again, but you also knew what he would do in your position
• He would bear the responsibility of his beloved city no matter the circumstances and no matter the heartache, because Spider-Man always gets back up
• So you stood firm upon all the valiant determination you could muster and picked your life back up again
• You got better emotionally and grew stable once more, and in the acceptance of your father’s death you had grown stronger, confident, courageous
• With you back on the streets of NYC the people of Brooklyn often voiced just how much they had missed and needed you
• And you didn’t plan on letting them down again, so despite the lack of a piece of your heart you always showed up when people needed you and you’ve not yet let them down
• Now, back to Jess and Miguel— they had known Peter would die and they had known they could not interfere as this was your canon event, the moment that would make or break you.. turns out it did both
• And they watched as you suffered through the loss, gave up on everything and everyone (including yourself) for a little over a year, worked through your pain and powered forward to overcome your grief, then became one of the strongest variants they had ever seen just before your seventeenth birthday
• Yes, they’ve been watching you for twelve years and yes, you have no idea
• It was on your seventeenth birthday that you had encountered Lizard once again, and this time he had taken enhancement drugs to increase his growth rate to tremendously rapid levels
• To say you were a bit stunned to see Lizard the size of a fucking dinosaur would be the understatement of the entire damn year
• Now, you held malicious and vengeful feelings towards Lizard for a long time in the wake of your father’s murder but it was feelings you had never ever acted upon, not even after you decided to pick up the suit once more
• As mentioned before you knew very well that the angry and hateful feeling brewing inside you at the expense of Lizard killing him could ruin you if you let it
• And that’s not where your morals lie, your beliefs and virtues are straight from those of your fathers— to be strong and courageous, righteous and pure for being Spider-Man/Woman is about hope
• So you did intend to take him down but you’d never do it with sinister intent or threatening tactics— just bring him down is all you wanted to do
• And if you were to speak honestly, it wasn’t as hard as you thought it was gonna be, obviously it was still pretty tough because hello? He’s the size of a fucking house, might as well be fighting a damn dragon
• It was easier because you’d felt at peace with yourself, and when at peace with yourself you worked harder and cleaner, jobs and protecting the city was just.. easier
• The fact the fight was easier than you expected could’ve also been because of your bite, the abilities you had gotten from it were a bit different than your father’s
• See, you’d been bit by a radioactive spider yes but it was a specific species and in accordance with that species you’d gained significantly different skills and traits
• The spider that had bit you was a Northern Wolf Spider, the arachnid gaining that name from it’s behavior of chasing, hunting and stalking prey, and in an odd turn of events you’d gained qualities that were more akin to that of a North American Timber Wolf
• Heightened senses came with the bite for every variant, and your specific qualities included; advanced stamina and strength, increased sense of sight, tremendously keen sense of smell and auditory processing, you had thick and durable fangs meant for tearing and searing
• You also bulked up a whole more more since your father passed, and in gaining more weight in pure muscle you’ve had to make your webs more durable, which helped out a lot with your fight against Lizard
• Speaking of—
“They’ve probably got it handled Miguel, is there any reason to actually go to their dimension?”
“I protect the multiverse which makes anomalies my responsibility, regardless of if that variant can handle them or not. And I’m going to have them join us.”
Jessica didn’t say much after, and she followed Miguel dutifully as he walked into the glowing orange portal. The pair flew through the multiverse for all of two seconds before a portal opened ahead of them and they were dropped onto a roof in your dimension.
“Went a bit too heavy on the ‘roids didn’t ya Doc?” The voice of a young teenager caught their ears. Just off to the side and a couple blocks away. Now facing that way they could see the large head of Lizard standing tall over the lip of the building on the distance.
“Is.. is that?—”
“Dr. Curt Connors.”
You leapt off the metal grail of the fire escape just as Lizard destroyed it with a whip of his massive tail. Using the momentum from your jump you swung a reverse axe kick to Lizard’s chin— putting enough force into it to throw his head back as you flip-jumped from him and landed on the road down below.
“I’m going to rip you apart and feast on your innards!” Lizard snarled as he recovered and glowered down at you with a sinister bear of his teeth.
“Season them well first at least, I’d suggest a nice barbecue rub!” You responded before shooting a web to the corner of the building on your left and swinging yourself into the air. Lizard roared angrily before lunging forward and attempting to catch you between his teeth. They snapped close with a chilling clamp and throaty growl from the beast.
Reaching the corner of the building you had shot your web at you leapt up and backwards flying over Lizard’s head and connecting a web to the side of his muzzle.
“Almost got me there!” You yelled as you swung around and around Lizard’s large scaled snout. “Don’t you know that animals that bite are often fitted with muzzles!” You quipped, enunciating the last word with a firm tug thus tightening the webs you’d been wrapping around his jaws and effectively sealing his mouth shut.
You kept the momentum and attached another web to the end of the one you’d been swinging around his muzzle. Then, you angled your hip to swing towards Lizard’s legs and using the same tactic looped around them several times before you were doing the same thing for his arms. When you deemed him wrapped up enough you landed behind him then tugged hard on the web end in your hand and forced Lizard to the ground by pulling his feet out from underneath him.
Once you were sure he was on the asphalt you were swift to web him up tightly and bind him to the ground. Hopefully, Captain Stacey got your message about the antidote and would arrive soon with it.
Meanwhile, as you waited you playfully walked along the edge of the building. The lip acting as your balance beam as you walked on your toes along it, doing a flip every so often just cause. You’d long since forgone your mask in favor of eating the sandwich gifted to you by the bodega owner on the corner.
Your spider senses tingled before—
“That was pretty impressive.”
You only flinched slightly at the abrupt interruption of your own little world, and turned to see two people. One, a very tall and broad man with wide shoulders and a muscular physique. The other, a woman with dark skin and a styled afro.. and she was pregnant.
“Uhm… thanks?”
“Was that a question?”
“Sorry it’s just—” you shook your head before jumping down and only now standing on the same level as him did you realize how tall the man actually was. “Who exactly are you two?”
“I’d think the suits gave you plenty context.” The woman replied, a smirk tugging up one end of her lips.
“Okay.. and why are you here?” You answered, still on edge about the two variants standing in front of you.
“My name is Miguel O’hara, and I lead an elite strike force dedicated to helping maintain the multiverse.” The man responded and you quirked an eyebrow at him.
“That still doesn’t explain why you’re here?”
“There was an anomaly reading in your dimension and we’re here to retrieve whatever villain has jumped into your universe.” The woman explained, jumping in to answer before Miguel could.
“You mean Kingpin?” You replied pointing to the billboard behind them and they both spun around to find the suit wearing antagonist webbed to it. Thick, white webs covering his entire body save for his neck and head, finally a web over his mouth. And they all watched as he glitched and morphed in colorful and mixed patterns, the board he was attached to glitching out too before changing entirely.
“How did you?—”
“My AP Physics teacher won’t shut up about the multiverse and also he doesn’t look my Kingpin at all so.. I mean you know,” they shrugged.
Miguel turned his head slightly to look at the woman beside him before he jerked his head minutely then he was facing the teenager in front of him once more. You met his masked stare head on (something he was impressed by, not many people can meet his intimidating glare straight on) as the woman walked away from you two before slinging a web up to the billboard and pulling herself up to it.
“You know the whole sinister and dark ‘nobody touch me I’m emo’ vibe you got going on isn’t very heroic.”
Miguel didn’t say anything, didn’t move an inch as he just stared at you. “See that right there isn’t becoming of someone who’s supposed to make people feel safe.”
“I protect the multiverse.”
“Right. But there are ordinary people in the multiverse, in every dimension you’ll find people.”
“The multiverse is my priority.”
“Yikes, saying things like that are not very becoming of a Spider-Man either.”
Miguel turned his observant stare cold as he chose to glare at you instead for the disrespectful responses and jokes. And he figured you must’ve felt he’d changed to glaring heatedly because you awkwardly looked away with a hand rubbing the back of your neck.
Finally, the woman returned with the Kingpin variant at her feet. This one significantly smaller than yours and lankier too, he must rely heavily on his Tombstone and Prowler. You’d rather have this Kingpin as opposed to your Kingpin— who for some reason is built like a fucking overgrown Silverback Gorilla.
She fiddled with the watch on her wrist before a golden portal erupted into life beside her, and you watched as she threw the Kingpin variant in before stepping in herself. But not before saluting you a goodbye with a playful glint in her eye and cheeky smirk on her face.
The portal closed and then your attention was back on Miguel, and your spider senses tingling brought a hand up to catch the watch he threw at you.
“Join us?”
You looked from him to the device in your hand, then you looked behind you at the Lizard on the ground down below. Captain Stacey at his neck and injecting him with a vial of clear liquid. You turned back to Miguel with a smirk and eager look as you slid the watch onto your wrist. “Sounds like a damn good time.”
• You didn’t know if you actually wanted to be there at Miguel’s Spider Society or whatever he’s calling it but you were also a bit intrigued by it
• So you followed them when he offered you that watch, and you grinned as he gave walked you around the building, giving you a small tour of his headquarters
• When you met Peter B. Parker you had an emotional breakdown and refused to return to the society for days following your first interaction with the man
• When you finally went back he was concerned that he’d done something wrong to garner such a reaction but you were quick to jump in and let him know it was in no way his fault before you explained why you had reacted as you did
• He was more than understanding, offering to keep his distance if that was what you wanted and whilst you appreciated the gesture you told him you would be fine
• And spending time in his company had begun to fill that gaping hole in your heart, obviously he’d never replace your father and you didn’t expect that of him either but his fatherly presence made you feel better than you had in years since your father’s passing
• Mayday was just an added bonus to his presence
• Time passed and you were there for a couple months before you met Gwen Stacey, and the two of you clicked almost instantly, it was a bit odd for you since the Gwen from your universe was about three years old and hadn’t been bitten but you got used to it
• And in that time you’d also learned the pregnant woman’s name was Jessica and that she was Miguel’s right hand in his society that he created
• You’d also met Hobie Brown and Pavitr Prabhakar whom you’d come to adore more than you’d ever outwardly admit lest you wish to give them egos the size of fucking Mars (but those two alongside Gwen were definitely your favorites) (behind Miguel ofc)
• Speaking of, you’d also grown quite close to Miguel in your time as part of his society of spider people, which was a huge surprise to yourself, him, Jessica and pretty much everyone involved
• He couldn’t really explain what it was, just something about your energy and the way you carried yourself that had him intrigued and impressed
• Your attitude that alluded to you never giving up was something he admired about you too, and it was those qualities that drew him in, made him want to protect you
• The bonding with you was something he didn’t expect to happen but was shocked when he wasn’t against it, and he ignored the initial reluctance and fear that he felt when you two began to get closer and closer
• Maybe it was the little things, the way you’d check up on him after a particularly harrowing or difficult mission, or the way you’d do anything to see if you could get him to crack a smile, there was something about your mere presence too, something warm and comforting
• Something he hadn’t felt since his young daughter was still a part of his life, and he was afraid of the consequences that would follow if he ever got close to you and lost you
• The same heartache he felt for his daughter would return, and it was pain that he didn’t want to feel ever again, that’s why he kept himself so guarded, those broken and vulnerable pieces protected behind vaulted steel doors
• But you had somehow managed to slip through his barbed defenses and made yourself right at home in his heart, and again he was initially afraid of the possibility that he’d lose you too and he’d face that pain all over again
• He doesn’t remember when or how he got over it, but he does remember the feeling that washed over him when he finally accepted your friendship
• It felt akin to a bucket of cold water being dumped over that fiery and searing ache in his chest, relief and comfort that he felt weigh so heavily on his chest he almost cried
• After that your guys’ relationship developed to much deepen levels, and he’d never admit to your face but you had quickly become his favorite and he would do anything to protect you, protect your bond like his life depended on it
• And just like Peter, his mere presence seemed to make you finally feel whole again… complete
• And as time continued to pass you’d only grow closer with the two men, finding safety and comfort in their arms, safety and comfort you’d been craving since you were fourteen years old
• Then, Miles Morales came along and everything went to shit
• Despite being on his team for months Miguel failed to mention that there was a spider variant that was an anomaly
• And in failing to mention that you had to figure it out on your own when Miles’ scent hit your nose and he smelled drastically different from the other spider people
• He smelt odd, unnatural and unusual… strange
• It didn’t take you long to figure out that he was an anomaly but you still figured it out by the way his scent, and you thanked the stars for that particular gift you got from the species of spider that had bitten you
• After Miles, Hobie and Gwen returned from the rescue they accomplished in Pavitr’s dimension at the expense of Spot is when things went from bad to ultimately worse
• Miguel had hoped somewhere small in his chest that you would side with him but he knew in a significantly larger part of him that your morals would not allow you to stand for him preventing Miles from saving his father
• Miguel knew that if you had known your father would’ve been killed that horrible night those years ago that you would’ve interfered without hesitation
• So he was not confident that you’d agree with him and well over half of the rest of the spider variants that this is something that must occur
• And he feared the confrontation with you, he feared the hate he’d no doubt see in your eyes when you find out this is where he stood on his opinion about the situation
• He wasn’t wrong either, because when Miles had returned and they all had cornered him after Miles discovered that Spot would be the cause, you didn’t take it all that well—
You were conflicted, you cared about Miguel but you’re morals and beliefs were very important to you— defined who you were. They were instilled into you by your father and you truly believed that by following through with them to the end you were keeping his legacy alive.
And they were loud in your ears right now, deafening in their prominent voice as you watched Miles get more and more tightly wound.
The thing was.. you agreed with him. And your father would’ve agreed with him too. There is no way Miguel knows for absolute certainty that Miles’ universe would collapse if he saved his father. And there’s no way any of the other spider variants could possibly know either.
There were facts and evidence on Miguel’s side but again— your values were speaking much louder than him. Because your father would’ve been disgusted by the behavior these spider variants were displaying, and he would’ve straight up hated Miguel. That you were absolutely sure of.
“This is wrong Miguel,” you spoke up and the spider variant you were speaking of turned to look at you. “You’re just going to let someone die when you know you could change the outcome? How could you possibly think that’s okay?”
“[Y/Name]—”
“Spider-Man isn’t about the acceptance of loss and grief yet to come, Spider-Man is about hope, hope and promise of a greater tomorrow. Hope that there will always be someone there to help… someone there to protect those who can’t do so themselves.”
“The security of the multiverse is important!” Miguel argued, his tone aggressive and his expression frustrated as he ignored the ache on his chest. The ache that had erupted into existence at the expense of his theory proving correct— you would be against him.
“No! What’s important is not standing by and allowing someone to suffer or die! If that’s truly what you believe, then you don’t know the first damn thing about being Spider-Man!”
“[Y/Name]…” Peter B. trailed as he got your attention, walking closer to you and putting a gentle hand on your shoulder. “We cannot interfere.”
You smacked his hand off your shoulder and stepped back and away from him several times to be standing beside Miles instead. “You too? Peter this is wrong, so unbelievably fucking wrong!”
“[Y/Name], I can’t let you get in the way. I’m sorry.” Miguel apologized before he was throwing something at yours and Miles’ feet. The device activated and put up a scarlet force field, Miles panicked and beat against the walls. As the variants outside the force field argued you looked to Miguel and Miguel only. And he looked right back. You just stared at him, eyes hard and brows taut and pulled together as he stared right back.
You ignored Miles as he continued to search for a way out, Miguel finally pulled his eyes off yours as Peter B. advanced on him. “Miguel! This is taking it too far!”
“He’ll only do more damage, we all know that!”
As they continued to argue outside the shield you turned your back on Miguel and flexing your fingers extended your thick and powerful claws. You could tear this force field apart if you truly tried, that’s what you were going to do. But before you could even put your hands up your senses tingled and you instinctively put your arms around your head to protect yourself as the shield was destroyed by a powerful electrical surge.
When Miles destroyed the force field he hesitated for but a single moment before he turned, grabbed your wrist and took off.
“[Y/NAME]!”
You distantly heard behind you before you were freeing yourself from Miles to run beside him instead, and you two sprinted through Miguel’s headquarters with you leading him seeing as you’ve already been there for close to a little more than six months.
Getting out wasn’t hard, at least not for you. The variants certainly tried but they weren’t any match for you. A well seasoned and thoroughly trained hero with twelve years of polishing your expertise and craft to a fine point.
Miles had a little trouble keeping up but you didn’t get too far ahead of him in which he couldn’t follow, you two only got separated once. And whilst you weren’t entirely sure where he’d gone off to, you had the absolute pleasure of facing off against Miguel (note the sarcasm).
Your senses tingled as you discreetly swung through the underbelly of Miguel’s HQ, and you pulled yourself up just in time to avoid Miguel’s web. And the two of you fought and danced around each other throughout headquarters. Miguel trying to capture you and yourself avoiding that outcome at all costs by expertly evading him. When you had finally reached outside you met up again with Miles on the train overhead cover that was speeding upon a vertical track at astronomical velocity.
It was hard to hang on, even more so with Miguel on your ass but you made due. Better you than Miles and you’d gladly fend off Miguel for him if it meant he could find his way home to save his dad in time. Maybe it was a selfish part of you that wished something for him that you wanted to have, or maybe you truly just wished only the best for the younger variant.
Either way, Miguel was kicking your ass instead of his and you could live with that.
The 2099 Spider-Man choke slammed you onto the cold, hard metal of the futuristic locomotive and pinned you there by a hand around your neck.
“Can’t you see?! He’s the original anomaly! He’s not meant to be here! He is not Spider-Man!” The man snarled in your face. The anger he was feeling making his fangs appear and he sneered down at you, bearing them ferociously.
“He’s more Spider-Man than you’ll ever be!” You retaliated, attempting any sharp words pointed enough to cut him deep and painful. And you watched as his face turned and grew solemn for only one second before he was darkening his expression and snarling at you again.
“I hate to do this to you, but I can’t lose you over this!” He yelled over the roaring grind of the moving train. And your heart fell to your toes when he beared his fangs again— this time with a wide open mouth. A second later he was lunging forward intent to inject your body with venom.
You thanked whatever god above was listening for your much quicker reflexes as you caught him by the lower jaw and redirected his lunge to the air beside you instead.
Then you were bringing your legs up and forcing him away from you, not wasting a second you shot a web to the top car of the locomotive. You pulled yourself all the way up to where Miles had perched himself, and just before you could get a word out Miguel erupted out of nowhere and tackled Miles down.
You moved to help but got a web wrapped around your wrist instead, whoever shot it pulled you off your feet and then you found yourself under Peter B. Parker and Mayday instead.
“[Y/Name], enough!”
“No!”
“You can’t change destiny!” He argued, just as Miguel had done before, pinning you to the ground— though Peter’s was less of an attempt to capture you and just in a way to get you to listen to him.
“We control our own destiny Peter.”
“This’ll put the multiverse in danger! If you’d known your father would’ve been killed that night would you have saved him even if it meant there was an off-chance of your dimension being destroyed?!” Peter was just trying to reason with you now, and you stared directly into his warm brown eyes as you answered him.
“Without question.”
Peter drew back a bit at your response, then you watched behind him as Miguel flew overhead. That was your cue, so you grabbed Peter’s shoulders and utilized the enhanced strength of your specialty skills to push him off you.
Not enough to hurt him or Mayday but enough to give you space to escape, which you did. Once given enough breathing room to leap you leapt, jumping from the locomotive to fly through the air instead. Miles followed you, and Miguel was right behind.
You didn’t get much of that end of the chase, swinging directly to the headquarters and sneaking in past Kess and standing on the platform the machine usually used to send variants back to their proper dimensions.
It was minutes later when the machine suddenly came to life and you watched as the numerous screens turned on, looking a little closer you saw that it was Miles and that he was using his invisibility power to get the machine up and going.
Seconds later you felt his presence land beside you, and as the mechanical spider above lowered down and began creating the web to send Miles home and consequently you to his universe— Miguel erupted through the glass doors like a bat out of Hell.
And you stood back and watched as he sprinted to the platform’s edge, leapt over the gap and began furiously clawing at the web’s exterior.
Just as he was pulling it apart, the sequence completed and you and Miles were lifted into the air as the portal was created before the machine was throwing the two of you through the multiverse and into Miles’ universe.
• After the exhausting and frustrating chase, and even more annoying escape you and Miles had made.. you decided to follow him to his dimension, if only just to see that he’d be okay
• But he took off the second he was back in his own universe (or so you thought) and you were quick to follow, calling out his name in an attempt to get him to slow down but he did not listen
• So you just followed as he swiftly made his way to his apartment, only upon arrival you decided it might be best if you stayed outside which is exactly what you did, and you listened as he told his mom the truth and she responded with a question of her own not knowing who he was referring to
• When your spider senses started tingling uncontrollably is when you though something might be wrong so you webbed yourself to the roof of the building directly across Miles’ apartment and just observed from there
• As you watched him interact with a man that you assumed was his uncle your senses tingled again only it was too late to react when a muscled arm wrapped around your waist and a gloved hand covered your mouth, and then you were pulled backwards and through the portal into another dimension
• Upon arrival at the new universe you were pinned to the ground on your stomach by a heavy weight much larger and much stronger atop you, holding your arms in the small of your back and forcing you tighter against the ground
• You knew it was Miguel and you knew that unlike back at headquarters this pinch would be tighter to get yourself out of— so you didn’t intend to fight against him, you’d already done more than enough for Miles and on the off chance he still needed you then and only then would you fight for him again
• Until then, you’d accepted the fact you’d been captured, so you slumped to the rain soaked concrete of the building’s roof, and as you lay there you could only hope Miles had reached his father on time
a/n: Feel like it got kinda lame at the end but I hope you enjoyed the first post of the blog regardless! I’m super excited to get this blog started! Spiderverse is my hyper-fixation right now so that’s what I’ll be focusing on for a moment! Again, hope you enjoyed! Ciao!
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heartpascal · 11 months
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is it freedom?
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▹— spiderverse (future) found family x platonic!reader
▹— summary: after losing everything, you struggle to accept the one thing you needed all along.
▹— a/n: ok i have been enabled by exactly two (2!) people. (thank you both) SO dare i start a spiderverse series??? IF YALL WANT MORE OF THIS… I WILL DO IT. this is really just a set up thing idk but i feel like arachnid has potential for further parts and ACTUAL found family!! also haven’t tagged people on my general taglist bc idk if you guys want to be tagged in ALL works or just all pedro works :(
▹— warnings: slight across the spiderverse spoilers, not really found family yet, injuries, blood, treating own injuries, stitches, fighting (canon-typical violence yall), dead parents (mentioned a LOT), a whole lot of angst (it’s a spider-person so what do we expect), reader has a whole lot of bad thoughts, loneliness, isolation
masterlist PART TWO
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
Had you known what this, this thing, would lead to, you would have never started it. Not that you had done so purposely, at least to begin with, more so happening as an event of pure chance. You were in the right place at the right time, and since then, you had been addicted.
But if you could go back, look at yourself just a year younger than you are now, tell that kid what would come if you went through with saving a life for the first time, you wondered. It was a question that scratched deep in your brain, sending you off balance the more you thought about it; would you have still done it? Would you have saved that person’s life, knowing it would lead to your own falling apart?
You would like to think yes. In fact, you know that back then, when your eyes were bright at the prospect of helping people, when you still marvelled at the world like it was good, you would have been certain that it would be worth it. Why should that person die, just to save you? It’s a harrowing realisation. A conclusion that makes your fingers tremble, your voice shake. Now, you’re not sure you would do it. You don’t think you could bear to face that decision knowing what you know of the world around you now.
It’s something cruel, really, that the spider that bit you gave you these powers, and nothing to go back and fix your mistakes. Your perceived victories. Your losses.
But the worst has already happened, and the only one left to die is you, so you carry on. You don the suit every day, you sew up your own injuries on the top floor of the abandoned offices that you’ve claimed as your own. Each day, you wake when you choose, you sleep when you want to, and you work yourself down to your very bones with nobody to object.
The hollow feeling in your gut is a pain you have no choice to ignore, to smother with assurances that this is freedom. What else could it be? You do whatever you so please, you spend your time swinging through the streets of New York rather than doing schoolwork at home, you eat all the junk you could ever have wanted.
It’s freedom. It has to be.
You tell yourself that you don’t miss the home part of having to do schoolwork, promise your heart that you don’t miss home-cooked meals as opposed to greasy food that leaves you unsatisfied. You swear that you like having nobody to tell you what to do. There’s no other choice, after all.
And each day, when you spend a little bit longer out on the streets, getting yourself into needless fights that the police could certainly handle, you tell yourself it’s because you’re protecting the city. You convince yourself that it’s not because of having an unending rage to satiate, or a permanent feeling of breathlessness when you leave police to handle anything, as if you could relive the moment your father, the captain, was left to handle something he couldn’t.
So, you’re almost relieved by the appearance of something… strange. Something dangerous. This is what you live for — this is your job.
You crouch against the wall, fingers splayed and suit itching where you had crudely sewn it back together across your ribs at an almost too-close call. You hold your breath, you watch. The lenses over your eyes shield your sensitive sight from the harshest colours of this new opponent, who looks almost… unreal. Too different to be a part of reality. He yells out, seemingly glitching? A distorted scream of what is apparently pain, accompanied by flashes of colour that are unfamiliar to you.
“Well, that doesn’t look good.” You comment, eyebrows raised beneath your mask, and the strange looking guy snaps his head towards you, long hair slapping across the goggles over his eyes. He bares his teeth at you, something almost resembling a grin marring his face.
“Spider-man!” He yells triumphantly, cackling as he wipes the hair away from his face, tendrils unfurling from behind his back and lifting him into the air.
“Not quite!” You call back, dodging below the metallic arm that shoots towards where your head was, crumbling through the wall. You try to think back to the jokes you used to tell to rile up whoever you were facing, but find your mind is blank. Instead, all you can think of is questions. “Where the hell did you come from, anyway?”
The man follows you as you spring from wall to wall, heading towards the center of the building where it tunnels up for about forty floors, balconies overlooking the fountain below. “A new spider, eh? Well I’ll take you down just as easily as I have the other!” He tells you, though you’re immediately suspicious of his statement. You’re the only Spider-related hero around, and even if you weren’t, you doubt this guy could squash a worm, let alone you.
“Sure thing, man.” You say, sighing, already exhausted by the repetitiveness that comes with every fight. Your opponents always say they’ll beat you, kill you, squish you, take you down, and yet you always get back up at the end of the fight, and they always remain defeated. When you started doing this, you never would have thought you’d get so tired from winning all the time.
And yet here you are, slipping further and further up the building with the octopus-looking guy chasing after you, metal arms crumbling walls and bannisters on his way up. He falters once more, another one of those glitch-like movements sending him down a few floors, but he’s quick to recover. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy.
You crouch down on one balcony, somewhere around the thirty mark floor-wise, peering down at the guy as he shakes lingering pain from his body. He charges upwards, aiming to reach you quickly with an almost predatory smirk on his face. Before he can even get close to you, however, you’re back on the move, setting a trap for him that he doesn’t even seem to notice.
It’s only when a group of late workers emerge on what you’re pretty sure is the twenty-first floor that you become more anxious about this fight. You don’t like when civilians are involved.
There’s about a dozen of them crowding the balcony, looking up to where you’re facing off with octopus-man above, some having begun to descend the stairs to the next floor before catching on to your presence. You try not to draw attention to them, but their pointing and whispering sets the Spidey-sense off, ringing loudly between your ears, almost deafening in its intensity. Maybe you underestimated this guy. The flash of a camera sends the last hope of him not noticing down the drain, and he grins at you as he switches targets, climbing down towards them with some semblance of caution.
You’re much faster than he is, dropping down and using a web to catch yourself rather than having to climb. It’s hard to stop yourself from yelling at them, cursing them out for being so damn foolish — who in their right mind would stick around a very dangerous fight to take pictures?
Instead, you choose to yell, “Get out! Go, go, go.” And usher them down the stairs, but it’s not difficult to realise that this guy is going to get to them before they manage to descend to the bottom. You shouldn’t be surprised, really. Nothing is ever as simple as it could be, not for you.
The split second decision to drop down and form a net-like web low enough to catch the workers worked out for you in the end, as you swung back up and pushed the workers off of the balcony and stairway just as the octopus man was reaching them. He cursed at you, refocusing his efforts on you as you vaguely noted the workers clambering down after their screaming had stopped. Honestly — did people really have so little faith in you? Had you ever sent anybody to their death before?
“You are just as pesky of an insect as Spider-man!” He growled out, teeth gritted, and came after you with renewed force. He kind of reminded you of that doctor you faced not long after getting your powers, but this guy looked completely different. The doctor you faced — aptly named Doc Ock — had turned himself into some form of a mutant, he had reinforced tentacles which sprouted from his back. Was this guy some kind of copy cat? Maybe he was just delusional.
“I don’t know who Spider-man is, man!” You shout to him as you ascend the building again, trying to figure out the best way to take this guy down. His tentacles seem electronic, so surely you could disable whatever machinery resides on his back?
“That’d be me.” A voice came from above you, two floors ahead of your position. Your head snapped towards it, seeing a man in a blue and red suit, framed by a burst of orange behind him. He didn’t linger up there long, instead moving to leap down to the guy who had turned his attention to the new guy. The closer you looked at this new guy, the more similarities you saw to yourself — his webs looked remarkably similar to your own, the pattern that went across his suit matched your own, even the wide white lenses that shielded your eyes on your mask. Who the hell was this guy?
The octopus man grinned widely, shaking greasy hair from his face. “Ah, finally! The real Spider-man. Got yourself a new protégé, I see.” He drawled, dodging this new guy’s hit straight off of the bat. You tried not to get annoyed at being referred to as a protégé, considering as far as you were aware, you were the only Spider-person around. Where was this guy when you were holding a bridge full of civilians together? Where was he when you took down villain after villain, never once failing to get the guy? No — you were the real Spider-man, if anyone.
“I don’t know who you are, man, but I’m handling this just fine.” You call to the guy, swinging down to rejoin the fight, webbing the villain’s metal tentacles to the wall behind him, before dropping down to kick him towards the wall.
“Oh, so you know how to send this guy back to his own dimension?” Spider-man asks you, eyebrows raised beneath his mask, and as if on cue, the guy glitches once more, ripping his arms away from the wall and just about catching himself on a balcony below before he could fall into your net.
You gape at the new guy, glancing back up to where the burst of orange remains opened, and is that a portal? Is this Spider-man from another dimension? Is that why you’ve never heard of him before? God, if your mother was alive, she’d kill to find out about this. Inter-dimensional travel was something she had spent her life researching. If you didn’t remain so bitter toward her even after her death, you might’ve been sad she wasn’t alive to see this.
But you were bitter, and it made the experience all the worse.
Because you’re pretty sure that that bitterness takes the place of grief within you. It’s hard to understand why you crave to feel that pain, that grief, as opposed to the aching resentment that floods you with the thought of her. It’s such a sharp contrast to thinking of your father, your kind father, the man who threw himself into a battle he couldn’t have hoped to survive, just on the off chance he could save somebody. You hope you take after him.
“Wait— you’re from another dimension?” You question anyway, eyes flickering between the battle and the looming portal above. In fact, you’re so distracted by finding out about that tidbit of information that you miss octopus man aim a tentacle for you, and it snatches you around the ankle. “Oh, you gotta be kidding me—!”
The man waves you around like some kind of rag doll, and you try not to be too bitter about being caught off guard. You should probably learn that getting caught up in your little pity party always ends up badly, always distracts you from that renowned Spidey-sense. You formulate a plan in your mind when the drip of blood around your ankle draws your attention back to the battle at hand.
You web the wall opposite and hold on tight, pausing the movements and letting the dizziness that had come over you fade away. The man growls out in annoyance, and gets closer to cut the webs with another tentacle, which is exactly what you planned for. The tension from the webs launches you towards him when you let go, and in his surprise, the metal tentacle releases you. You wrap around him, and start webbing up the machinery embedded in his back as Spider-man distracts most of the tentacles, keeping them from pulling you off.
His tentacles start faltering, clearly not obeying his movements, and you wrap them up where they emerge from his back, continuing along until the movement is so limited that he has to use them all to clutch onto the nearest balcony.
You crawl up the tentacles in the very same spidery manner that you’re known for, and crouch, watching the octopus man struggle as Spider-man observes from the balcony opposite. “You wanna finish this one off, Spider-man?” You ask, unable to hide any bitterness from your tone at his mostly unhelpful actions throughout the battle.
“Hey, not bad!” He praises, and it annoys you. You’re good at what you do — for the most part. You manage without help constantly, and that’s the way you prefer it. “You’d make a good addition to the Spider Society!”
Now, you don’t know what the Spider Society is. But honestly? You don’t care. You don’t need help, and you prefer working alone, and you certainly don’t like feeling patronised.
“Whatever, man. Just send him back to whatever dimension he came from.” You tell the guy, and drop down as you hear sirens outside, landing on your injured ankle and just about stopping yourself from cursing. Through all the adrenaline and fighting, you’d forgotten about the way the metal had ripped into your skin, drawn blood. It’s just be another place you’d have to sew up your suit with itchy, uneven stitching. “Officers,” You greet as they open the doors, guns drawn, radios murmuring. “All taken care of. Civilians okay?”
“Shaken up, but fine.” The leading police officer says, immediately relaxing and holstering his weapon. You wish it reassured you that the police trusted you now, but it didn’t. Nonetheless, the other officers follow suit. “Thank you, Arachnid.”
The name your world has bestowed upon you has yet to grow on you, but you nod your head regardless, and salute them as you make your way out, swinging across the city, trying to put the existence of the multiverse and inter-dimensional travel out of your mind. Surprisingly, it’s pretty easy when you have a busted ankle to fix up.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
You’re halfway through stitching up your suit, having already sewn your skin back together with as much skill as you possessed in the matter — which was, not much. But the bleeding has stopped, and your stupidly slow healing will take care of it within a few days. You know that the itchy stitches on your suit will just irritate the injury, and though you wouldn’t lose anything if your identity was revealed, it doesn’t feel right to go out into the city with any part of you on show.
No, you wear the suit for a reason. You keep every part of yourself covered because nobody can know it’s you underneath the suit. Not because you had anything to lose, no, you had already lost everything. It was because then you could never make a mistake, you would have to be absolutely perfect, flawless, to make up for the fact that it was you underneath the layer.
So, you settle with a sewn suit that will itch and make the stitches on your ankle sting.
However, when there’s a burst of orange across the room, you have no choice but to forgo the suit, to simply drop the needle and thread and hover your fingers over your web shooters. You wait, nervously, for some other villain to appear. You’re not sure if Spider-man appearing would be better or worse.
But when a foot steps through the portal, it’s nobody familiar. In fact, it’s a suit you have never seen before, made up of dark blues and bright reds, sharp edges and long claws. It’s… unnerving, and considering the silence coming from the person wearing it, you’re not entirely certain of what they’re here for.
A moment later and another person steps through, a woman, with bright yellow lenses across her eyes that filter her irises into an amber. She steps forward, standing beside the person who had stepped through first, and if she hadn’t showed up, you would’ve been tempted to attack. With that being said, you remain on edge, but there’s something… comforting about her presence. Like her presence softens the man’s jagged edges.
She says your name, and then adds, “Arachnid.”
You furrow your brows and curse as you glance back at the suit so crudely laid out on the floor. Still, it doesn’t explain how she knows your name. Was it an inter-dimensional thing?
“Spider-man told us about your work in capturing Doc Ock earlier.” She tells you, as if that explains their presence. You did what you were supposed to do, which was take out the bad guys. “We’re here to offer you a place in the Spider Society.”
You can’t help but wonder if this is some kind of good cop, bad cop thing. She presents an offer which doesn’t sound too bad, and then her sharp-edged companion presents all the drawbacks and the catches. They don’t seem like the type to take no for an answer, either way. You still don’t even know what this Spider Society was! Was it some kind of multi-dimensional cult?
“I already told Spider-man that I wasn’t interested in joining whatever cult you’ve got going on.” You practically hiss, though you didn’t exactly tell him in such blatant words. You were more dismissive earlier, so you’d have to be clear now.
“It’s not a cult,” The man speaks, voice harsh and sharp much like the blades that branch from his forearms. “We work to protect the multiverse from anomalies that threaten to destroy it.”
The woman glances at him in a way that you translate as being vaguely annoyed, like he wasn’t approaching you in the way she had wanted him to. “He means to say that it’s a big job, and we need all the help we can get.” She says, softer, but only in comparison to the man’s harshness. “Listen, kid, you’re good at what you do. We need that kind of talent.”
“You’ll have to find it somewhere else.” You say firmly, because why would you want to leave your universe? This was a lot to think about when you had only learned of the multiverse existing mere hours ago. Regardless, you weren’t about to abandon your city just to go across the multiverse to help other heroes who couldn’t keep a leash on their own villains.
The two of them shared a look, a mere glance, before the woman heaved a sigh. “Look,” She sighed, heavily, like whatever she was about to say was something she didn’t want to be voicing. “Before you make your choice, you should know, your Green Goblin is currently terrorising another universe.”
You couldn’t work out if this was some kind of recruitment tactic, or something. That just wasn’t possible. You had put Gwen Stacy in the highest security prison after all antidotes to her goblin-tech failed. She was stuck in there — permanently. There was no way she had gotten out, let alone gotten out to another universe.
…Right?
It’s hard not to think of the memories at the mention of her—Green Goblin, not Gwen Stacy. Never Gwen Stacy. You wonder if this is where your fear comes from, the terrifying fact that you are remembered only for your mistakes. Because before she was the Green Goblin, she was Gwen. She was everything to you. She was the sun you orbited, the stars that charted your path. And it hurts, it hurts that you can only remember the blood and the dust and the destruction when you think of her.
People aren’t born as monsters, are they?
Like the spider that bit you, that invertebrate that so many fear, it was born the way it was. It was born with those fang-lined maws, with those eight legs and dozens of eyes. It was made into the monster it became, artificially crafted to deliver a venom that changed you forever. But it wasn’t born that way.
Surely, Gwen wasn’t either. She was kind. You remember that about her. You can remember her soft hands that used to hold your own, the loud laughter that always ended in a snort when she laughed at her own jokes, the gentle eyes that stared into your very soul. But those eyes are the very same ones that let her see through your mask, let her see exactly where to hit you to make it hurt. Was that what she was born as? Or is that what she was made into? A killer. A monster.
“Show me.” You say, because what else could you possibly respond? If what they’re saying is true, if the Green Goblin is loose once more, then people will die.
You can’t let her get fresh blood on her hands. Not when somewhere, deep inside your chest, so far down it’s almost unreachable, you have hope for her. You have an innate desire to look for the best in her, even when the Gwen you knew was the first life that the Green Goblin took.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
If there’s one thing you’ve taken from being Arachnid, it’s to expect the unexpected. And you go through the orange portal after Jessica Drew and Miguel O’Hara with that exact mindset about you, staring at where an orange watch-like device is wrapped around your wrist.
It’s in your nature to be suspicious, and these people weren’t an exception to that.
In fact, their presence only heightened that behaviour. After all, what were you to expect from two Spider people, who supposedly came to you for your help?
You weren’t blind, you saw the aged lines of their faces the moment you got close enough to see them clearly, away from the dim lighting of the building. They were adults, adults who had clearly been doing this type of thing a lot longer than you had. You, who was barely bordering on adult, who had fought enough battles already to last a lifetime — so why would they need you?
It didn’t feel right.
And when this Miguel person summoned Lyla the moment you walked through the portal, it felt all the more wrong. She was a hologram of some kind, much higher tech than the kind of thing you saw on your earth. But then again, you had never really been in high tech labs back in your earth. Still, it unsettled you. “Lyla, get me the location of Green Goblin, Earth 5011.” He commanded, and they argued in hushed voices for a moment, before a wider hologram appeared, stamped at Earth 3899.
“How did she get to another universe?” You ask, then, because it doesn’t make sense, and you’re shaking underneath the thin material of your suit. You’re hyper aware of each drag of stitching against the wound on your leg, each patch of fabric you had sewn on in hopes of the suit lasting you just a little longer, because you didn’t have the resource to produce a new one.
“It’s an anomaly.” Jessica Drew tells you, her tone softer than you’d heard it, as if she was attempting to reassure you in some way.
It didn’t help. But how could it? The last time you had faced Gwen Stacy—Green Goblin— you had lost so much. It had been the beginning of the end of everything good in your life. The explosion she had caused at your mother’s laboratory was the very same one that killed her, the very same explosion that sent you and your dad miles apart all while living in the same home. And still, you found a way to hope that there was something to salvage within Gwen.
But not only had you lost your mother, and not long after — your father, you had also lost your closest friend. The one person you had confided in, who knew you from your surface to the deepest level, and she had used that against you the moment the Goblin had taken over.
It had taken everything in you to beat her, back then.
And that was on home turf! How did these people expect you to do that a second time, in a completely unfamiliar place?
“Specifics aren’t important right now. Jessica, you take Arachnid. Lyla, send another one of the teams.” Miguel instructed, dismissing your questions right off the bat. It was frustrating. They were leaving you completely in the dark, and sending you to fight the worst enemy you had ever faced, and they were sending you alongside others like you from different universes. It was like asking you to bare your soul in front of them, to reveal your secrets, your deepest regrets, everything that you wanted to stay buried.
You knew Green Goblin. You knew that’s exactly what she would do. She would undermine you, she would lay your life out in front of you like tiles on a scrabble board. In the end, none of it amounted to much.
Jessica Drew made her way out, glancing at you and nodding for you to follow along. Your moment of hesitation had drawn Miguel’s attention, and he called out to you after a moment of hesitation. “We’ve all faced one like it, kid. It’s easier with others.” He told you, though he held a pained expression on his face all the while. Instead of admitting to the way he had hit the nail right on the head, you simply nodded and followed after Spider-woman.
It was a whirlwind from there.
Meeting up with others. Travelling the length of the so-called Lobby to wherever it was that Jessica was taking you. When you finally arrived, she offered an empty glass box with a mannequin inside, bare. She gestured towards it like it should’ve been self explanatory, but soon realised she’d have to spell it out for you.
You shouldn’t have been so upset by the offer of a new suit.
But you were.
This suit was your life. You had nothing outside of it, not anymore. You couldn’t just throw it away, as if it meant nothing, as if every rip and patch and wonky stitch didn’t mean anything. These were proof that what you were doing was real, that it was worth something. Each stitch proved you had value. You weren’t about to throw all of that away, especially for whatever overly technical suit these people would provide.
You had everything you needed.
And so Jessica led you to the next destination: Earth 3899.
The moment you stepped through the portal, it was like you were hit with a wave of familiarity. And not in a positive, slightly nostalgic way, no— this was chaos. This was the state your world had been in when Green Goblin ran riot, unchecked. She had torn apart buildings, blown up parks, she had set New York City aflame. And she was doing exactly the same here.
It was more contained here than it had been on your earth, and you had to assume that was thanks to the Spider-man already on site, coordinating police, ambulance and fire responses to douse the fires as quickly as she set them. If only the police in your city had trusted you so much, back then.
“Where is she?” You ask, the moment you get close enough to speak to the resident Spider-man of the universe. He looks at you as if you’re familiar, but doesn’t comment, instead just pointing a finger toward a skyscraper just a short way ahead. You’re gone the moment he tells you where to go.
She had the uncanny ability to stay quiet. It had freaked you own back on your own earth, but it was even more terrifying here, where things were ever so slightly different.
“Arachnid.” Gwen’s voice called, and for a moment, you could forget. You could forget every horrible thing the Goblin had done, and you could remember your friend, your Gwen, who had called out to Arachnid more than once without knowing it was you behind the mask. Whether it was for a story or to provide information on your most recent opponent, the voice calling your alias was familiar. But then there was that crackle of laughter, an unnatural gurgle in the way it left her throat, and you turned to see the green-tinged pallor of her skin. “I was so hoping you’d show up.”
You didn’t know how much her appearance would effect you, until you were stuck to the side of the building, staring at what had once been your best friend. You’re so choked up that you can’t even formulate a response, because you want that to be Gwen so badly, but you know it isn’t. The more you look at her, the more Goblin you see, the more you know that the Gwen you love is never coming back.
“Nothing to say?” She asks, and then says your real name, the name she used to say down the crackle of a phone line, or across the school hallway, and she smiles. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”
“You should’ve stayed in prison, Gwen.” You say, your voice unsteady as you say her name aloud for the first time in what must be forever. She seems to relish in the tremble of your voice, and you have to curse yourself for being so stupid, for already showing the vulnerability she was so easily able to pick out.
The Green Goblin tutted at you, stood atop her glider, but the smile you saw didn’t belong to Gwen. “You’re pathetically predictable, you know. You’re like a moth to the flame.” She tells you, and you fear that she’s right, that you’re the same person you were back when you fought her, back when she almost won. She sighs, like something heavy is weighing upon her, but it turns wistful in the blink of an eye. “I’m just glad your dad isn’t here to see this. He’d be so disappointed.”
“Arachnid, focus.” Jessica’s voice interrupts, before you can spiral down that rabbit hole. How did Gwen even know about your father? She was in prison long before he died. It didn’t make sense.
“Maybe,” You say, that familiar tremble around your words. “He did always hope for the best for you.”
She bares her teeth at your words, the only visible reaction before her mask is slipping over the bottom of her face, stretching out up to pointed ears, all metallic and tinted a murky green. Then, she’s attacking.
It’s muscle memory, mostly, you think.
If you don’t think too hard about it, it could be like playing a game with a longtime friend from your childhood. You know the moves to make, you know how she’ll respond. It’s a constant push and pull, a balance which leaves only destruction behind, the path of the Green Goblin’s wrath tangible in each battle scene the two of you leave behind. You can’t beat her like this.
It’s her glitching that gives you a slight upper hand — and you send her careening off of her glider to the ground below.
Your heart squeezes suddenly in your chest as you watch her fall, her eyes wide in what could almost be perceived as fear. If you didn’t intervene, would she die? Would you have put an end to her story, once and for all, when you secretly hope there’s a cure out there for her? You can’t bear the thought of finding out, of watching her die, and so you foolishly dive after her.
A web to her midsection allows you to grip her before she hits the ground, and you set her down with a far more gentle hand than you would ever admit.
She says your name, then, a whispered version of it that sounds like Gwen. You think you can see her in those wide blue eyes, in that stare, and you approach with some caution. “Gwen,” You say, more of a question, “You with me?”
“I’m with you,” She answers, as you reach her side, as you resist the urge to pull off your mask. You’re so preoccupied staring at her expression that you don’t see the blade until it’s too late, your Spidey-sense failing you as you wallowed in your search for someone who was gone. “You sweet, predictable bug.” She spits then, twisting the blade she had sunk deep into your side, and you writhe, trying to move away from her.
“Arachnid!” Jessica Drew calls out, drawing the Green Goblin’s attention, allowing you to pull away from her slackened grasp. You leave the blade where it is, knowing your only slightly enhanced healing wouldn’t make up for the onslaught of blood that would pour from the wound. “I think that’s enough, Green Goblin.” Jessica says, riding a motorbike that you swore she didn’t have earlier. Nonetheless, she uses it to put even more space between you and your villain.
“You need a hand, kid?” A new voice asks, and a gloved hand reaches out for you where you had knelt against the tarmac. You look up, seeing a new Spider-man, but this one has his mask up, showing off his aged face and the bags underneath his eyes. You wave him off, staggering up to your feet, and clench your jaw as you stare at Green Goblin, watch as she pulls bombs from her waistband, barely the size of a chocolate bar, but capable of causing irreparable damage. “Get back to HQ, Arachnid, we can handle this.” Spider-man tells you, in what you suspect to be a fatherly voice, but you ignore him.
Time flies, slips out of your grasp, and you don’t know how long you and the others spend fighting Green Goblin, but she proves to be just as difficult of a foe for them to face as she was for you. Each time the three of you manage to get the drop on her, she slips away before she could be caught. It’s frustrating, and you can even see the way irritation thickens in the air, tangible.
Spider-man, or Peter, as Jessica had called him, is with you, focusing on trying to take Green Goblin down, whilst Jessica Drew is focused on damage control, blowing up Gwen’s bombs before they could hit their intended targets. You’re pretty sure the resident Spider-man is around here, too, pulling any lingering citizens out of harms way before Green Goblin could end them. You’d admit, it works better than you had done alone back on your own earth.
But it doesn’t work well enough, and more than one building is damaged almost beyond repair, and in the dust and rubble, Peter was distracted by the few citizens poking their heads out of the gaping hole in the side of their apartments. He didn’t see Green Goblin coming until it was too late, until she had thrown two of her bombs, one towards him, and one towards the already wrecked building.
Your throat dries up as you try to figure out what to do, who to go for, but in the end, you don’t have to choose.
Beams of glowing orange webs shoot into the bombs where they arc towards their victims, blowing them up and leaving both Peter and the civilians in the apartments without a scratch on any of them. Well, nothing that wasn’t already there before. You see him then, running alongside Jessica Drew, none other than Miguel O’Hara — who clearly didn’t think that the three of you were capable of handling Green Goblin.
“We’ve gotta end this.” Peter tells the three of you, glaring over at Green Goblin after coming so close to one of her bombs.
“You distract, I’ll go in.” You say, the only plan that makes sense. The only plan that’ll work. You wouldn’t be much use as a distraction, not with the blood still pooling around the blade hanging from your side, but you could beat her. You knew you could.
Peter nodded, and he, Jessica and Miguel went in one after another, landing hits on Green Goblin before she could even think to withdraw another bomb, or land a hit of her own, whilst you made your way behind her, swinging as high as you dared to go in your state. She was getting angry, you could tell, a distinct flush rushing up the back of her neck, a tell that Green Goblin shared with Gwen.
It was only when she was starting to turn the tide that you jumped down from your spot against the side of a building, looking for your opening.
She sent Jessica Drew tumbling off of her motorbike, which was your chance.
Green Goblin heard you only a moment before you were on her, not giving her a chance to make a countermove. Instead, you were curling your arms around her, as tight as you could, holding her hands away from her waistband. You gripped the blade in your side and yanked it out, holding it to her chest, breathing heavily through the pain as you bared your teeth at her, her face beside your own.
“Don’t make me kill you.” You say, and try not to hear the pleading in your own voice, the distinctive tone of a beg. You may have the upper hand on her, but as always, she had the power. “Don’t.” You repeat, because you can feel it in your bones that you would do it. If it was the choice between her or the hundreds that she would kill on this world, it would be those hundreds. There was no doubt about it, no questions to be asked.
You may have resented your mother, but she wasn’t the only one who died because of the Green Goblin. You wouldn’t let that happen again.
Perhaps she heard the plea in your voice, the giveaway that you weren’t bluffing, because she went still in your arms, still enough for the other Spiders to approach with some caution, eyes on her hands where you held them away from any weapons, using your forearm connected to the hand holding the blade to her chest to keep her left hand from grasping anything.
“I won’t be asking again.” You tell her, which is as much of a threat as you can muster. Or, more so, a promise.
As Miguel pushed you back with a firm hand, throwing a machine at Gwen’s feet, you think she understands. If the two of you are ever in that position again, there will be no hesitation about it. You will kill her.
“Good work, kid.” Peter says as Miguel and Jessica get to work with getting your Green Goblin through a portal to the HQ. He glanced down at where your hand is now pressing into your side, blood pouring steadily. In your other hand, you still hold the blade that had pierced your own skin, that would have killed Gwen Stacy had she not surrendered. He winces as if it’s him who got hurt, and guides you through the portal after the others. “C’mon, we’ll get you checked out. You not got enhanced healing?” He asks, though you suspect he doesn’t expect you to answer, and you’re glad.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
“I can do this myself, you know.” You sigh, wincing as a Spider-man — who apparently is also a doctor and works in the Spider Society’s infirmary — stitches up the wound on your midsection. It’s uncomfortable, though less painful that when you do it yourself. Still, it’s uncomfortable to accept help from these strangers.
“Ooh, shouldn’t say that to him.” Peter B. Parker laughs, one of the many Peter Parkers of the Society, but the same one who had fought Green Goblin with you. “He’ll lecture you on proper healthcare for days if you give him the opportunity!”
The Spider-doctor glares at Peter, or you assume he does, from the slight squint of the lenses of his mask. He kisses his teeth under the mask, tutting, muttering about “Spiders and their complete disregard for their health. Lucky you haven’t died ten times over from infections.” But he doesn’t say anything that requires a response from you, and he soon finished up the stitches. He goes to offer to fix up the injury on your ankle, but you’re up on your feet before he can even get the words out.
“Now, I gotta get back home to the wife, but Miguel wants to see you. He’ll take you home,” Peter tells you as he walks out of the infirmary by your side, but he stops you in the hallway with a hand on your shoulder, surprisingly gentle. “If that’s what you want.”
Your eyebrows furrowed before you could stop them, and the confusion over his words must’ve been written all over your face.
“Why wouldn’t I want that?” You ask, defensively.
Peter opens his mouth, but nothing escapes. Instead, it’s his expression that tells you everything he’s thinking. The crease between his brows screams pitying, or sympathetic. He’s talking about the way you live back on your earth, about the life you lead, Arachnid by day, and by night. With no room for you, no room for your secret identity. He’s thinking of the way you’ll be returning to a world with nobody awaiting you, with not a soul to look out for you, to stitch you up after a battle. Nobody but yourself, anyway.
You pull away from him, brows furrowing further, into an almost angered expression, and you don’t watch the way his hand falls away from your shoulder back to his side. He sighs when you turn away, scoffing as you make your way through the hallways of the Lobby towards where you think Miguel will be.
It’s overwhelming, all of these people. They all believe that they know you, that they know your circumstances, your story, but the truth is that they don’t. Nobody does, and that’s the way you prefer it. You don’t need a Society of Spiders surrounding you, breathing down your neck, telling you they’re sorry, or not trusting you to handle yourself in your own fights, because you can handle yourself. You’ve spent the last year of your life trying to prove that, trying to prove that you can do good things, that you’re worthy of the title Arachnid. You certainly shouldn’t need to prove that to a whole Society of people like you, most of which had been doing the job a lot longer.
You’re capable and you’re content.
You don’t need a life as your secret identity to be content, in fact, it’s better without one. You don’t have to tell so many lies, don’t have to worry about hurting the people you love, because there are none of them left. There’s nobody to hurt, and there’s nobody to lie to. Why would you want to change that?
The hallway ahead looks familiar, and you follow it until you enter a room where Miguel stands, looking at orange tinted screens on a platform halfway up the room. You enter with the absolute certainty that you want to return to your own earth, and you’re not going to let anybody stop you.
“I’m ready.” You tell him, expectantly.
He scoffs, saying nothing, still staring at the screens in front of him. For whatever reason, the reaction makes you angry — inexplicably so. You’re slinging up to the platform before you can have a second thought about it, and you’re pushing his shoulder so he’ll face you, so he’ll acknowledge you.
He stares at you, unimpressed.
“Send me back to my earth.” You press, brows furrowed beneath your mask, but you’re sure he can see the anger in the way your shoulders tense up.
“Sure,” Miguel said blankly, staring at you as if you’d suddenly change your mind or something. “But you know, there’s a lot more like her.” He added on when you said nothing, waiting for him to send you back to your world so you could give him back the stupid watch still wrapped around your wrist.
You stared at him like he was speaking a foreign language. “There are no more like her.” You respond, feeling that hot press on your chest. You don’t want to talk about Gwen Stacy anymore than you’re sure he’d like to talk about whatever he had gone through in his life. Hell, you don’t even want to think about her, but you know that nobody else you would ever have to face would hurt you in the way that she did. In the way that having to see her as an enemy, rather than your friend, had hurt. So, yeah, there was nobody like her, not for you.
Miguel seems ready to let you go for a moment, but then he’s shaking his head at you. “You have a place here. You can be with people like you. You don’t have to do this alone, anymore.” He says, and you think that is ironic, because you don’t see anybody else in here. To you, it seems like he is doing exactly that; doing the job alone. You can practically see the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“I prefer being alone.” You tell him, and it has to be true. It has to be.
His jaw sets, acceptance, you think, and he nods. He glances past you, to where a portal was open on the floor below. Considering that you hadn’t seen him set up the portal, you’d wager that his AI Lyla must’ve listened in and done it for him. You pull the watch off of your wrist, relishing in the way your very atoms seem to sag with the weight of being in another dimension.
“Thanks.” You say, and drop down, landing on your sore ankle but not murmuring a word about the pain. You walk back to your world with your head held high, despite your tattered suit and multitude of wounds that would take days to stop hurting.
Miguel stares after you as the portal closes, eyebrows furrowed. He barely acknowledges Jessica Drew’s arrival in the room, already having known she had been lingering in the hallway, listening in. “Well, that went well.” She comments, glancing between where the portal had been and where Miguel stands, brooding. She knows how much pressure he puts on himself, and she knows that he cares about each and every Spider-person in the multiverse. It doesn’t take a Spider-sense to see the way in which you struggle. It’s a familiar struggle, sure, but there were so many Spiders across the multiverse who had a shoulder to lean on in their hardest times. Who did you have? There was no Aunt May for Arachnid, or Gwen Stacy, or Harry Osborne, or, well, anybody.
Jessica thinks that if anybody were to know exactly how that felt, it would be Miguel.
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faesdreaming · 11 months
Text
Yandere Miguel O’Hara Headcanons
a/n: there are two routes platonic and romantic, which will be bolded and colour-coded like this, please forgive my spanish i am breaking out my high school spanish classes.
tw: yandere themes, possessive, obsessive, and controlling behaviour, potential spoilers, suggestive themes (romantic route), captivity, canonical inaccuracies, implied neglect (platonic route)
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•Becoming the hero Arachnid wasn’t something you ever planned on happening. You were just going about your regular, every day life when a radioactive spider bit you. The spider that bit you gave you amazing powers that you utilized to become the amazing, the one and only friendly neighbourhood Arachnid! Then, you were suddenly pulled into another dimension that was almost exactly like yours and discovered that you weren’t the only one of well you after all.
•You, alongside other spider-themed heroes, joined forces against Kingpin in order to return to your home dimensions. However, that wasn’t your last adventure with the multiverse. Your next encounter would occur a few months after your first misadventure. Having finished fighting the Green Goblin, you were ready to end the night there. Then, a portal similar to the one that brought you to Miles’ dimension opened up. Out came a tall, well-muscled Spider-Man and a Spider-Woman
•They introduced themselves as Miguel O’Hara and Jessica Drew and informed of the Spider society they’d formed. You were offered membership by them. Well, by Jessica. Miguel was staying silent. You don’t know why, but you felt as though he was watching you. He was, of course, he was right in front of you, but this felt eerie. Your senses were telling you something was wrong but Jessica was so nice and you really were excited and honoured to be given such an opportunity. So, you take it.
Romantic Route:
•Miguel stared at you intently. He’d been watching you for a while now, observing. You resemblance was uncanny— you looked exactly like his spouse. Not his spouse exactly, but the one the other had. You looked like the partner that Miguel had grown to love alongside his daughter. A variant of them. Although he was initially against you joining, it would be easier to watch you— look out for you if you joined the lobby.
•After your acceptance, Miguel tasked Jessica with guiding you around the lobby. He didn’t trust anyone else and he couldn’t bare to do it himself. He couldn’t handle himself around you. It wasn’t just your appearance that was uncanny, it was everything. You mannerisms, habits, likes, interests, everything. How Miguel yearned for you. Yearned to feel your touch, your kiss. Yearned for the happiness he once knew.
•But that would break the canon, wouldn’t it? The memories of his world, his family fading from existence because he broke the canon. He couldn’t let that happen again. So, he behaved coldly towards you. But as Miguel continued to watch you and interact with you, he started to doubt. You were a variant of his partner, but your dimension didn’t have a variant of Miguel O’Hara. Perhaps, he rationalized, this was canon. Your fates were meant to be intertwined. He needed you and you needed him. That was canon.
•Miguel strikes when you least expect. Spends weeks carefully planning. He stalks you, memorizes your routine to a point. He assigns you a mission, not overly-difficult but not easy. Something to tire you out. With your senses dulled and the weariness from the fight left you susceptible to his attack. Quickly, stealthily and by surprise, he subdued you. His sharp fangs biting into the tender skin of your neck, paralyzing you.
•When you come to, you find yourself in an unfamiliar room. Yet there are familiar objects lying around; trinkets and photos that had disappeared. Your spidey-senses were going off the rails and that’s when he came.
“Miguel?”
•He tells you you’re here for your safety and for the safety of your dimension. Swears you’re meant to be with him, that it’s canon. Warns you of the consequences if you break the canon. You stare at him, intaking his audacity. Then, you shriek at him. Call him out on his absolute bull. Miguel sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He ignores your screeching and leaves. Obviously, you’re still in shock. You’ll come around.
•Almost a month later, lo and behold, you still haven’t come around to being pliant with your captor. Miguel is a man of many things, but patience is not one. He is so very tired, having to deal with Lyla’s teasing and the other Spider’s bullshit. Is it too much to ask to come home to his loving spouse? Just like he used to.
•Apparently, it is. Seeing as you aren’t his spouse, but someone he locked up, you scream at him. Unholy screeches whenever you see him. Today, Miguel’s had enough. Large hands wrap around you and slam you against the headboard of the bed you’re chained too.
“Enough.” He hisses. “¡Mierda! I won’t hear it. ¿Me entienden? You stay here. If the safety of the multiverse won’t convince then maybe the safety of your aunt will.”
•The moment the vague threat passes over you freeze entirely. You’ve lost almost everyone, everyone but her. Carefully, you suck in air. Large tears brim at the edges of your eyes. as you look Miguel directly in the eyes. His eyes, dark and dangerous, bore back into yours.
“Please Miguel,” you whisper. “I’ll stay. I’m sorry. Don’t hurt her.”
•Miguel softens at your submission. However, he still doesn’t trust you. He pulls himself off you and stalks out, leaving you laying on the bed, dazed. From that day forewords, you become more compliant. You listen to Miguel and don’t fight him. Miguel knows that he can’t keep you locked away forever. People were asking questions. With your ‘good’ behaviour, you’ll be granted more privileges. More freedom, if that’s what you can call it. You’ll never truly be free, trapped under Miguel’s watchful eyes. But you’re able to go into the lobby again. To talk with people, even if you do so bearing Miguel’s marks. You know you can’t escape him, not when he could take away the little you had left, not when he would hunt you down through every universe. For now, you know you can’t escape Miguel’s grip.
Platonic Route:
•When Miguel saw you for the first time, he felt the world stop around him. It was as though there was nobody else but you and him. You, who was the only variant of his dead child that wasn’t truly his. He watched as you swung around, mocking villains and making clever quips. Miguel’s heart ached for you, for himself, for his dead daughter and child. As he watched you, memories of holding his child as they died because of him resurface. Once more, does Miguel feel the bitter sting of grief and loss.
•Oh, how Miguel desires to hold you, to cradle you close and never let go. But he can’t, he won’t. You’re not his child. You’re not the child he failed to protect. No, you’re a child he can protect. Thus, his decision to allow you to join the spider-society, if only to watch over you and protect you. Your family clearly isn’t doing a good job at it. Miguel spends more time than necessary looking after you. Not that he meant to, of course. You were just so vulnerable. You needed guidance. You may have been s superhero but you were also a child.
•Under Miguel’s guidance you thrive. He teaches you proper fighting techniques, improves your web-shooters and other tech you have and acts as the father figure you need. His teaching method is firm yet gentle. Miguel remains stern, however, everyone notices how soft he is with you. Life is good in the lobby. To be honest, sometimes you consider staying forever. Or more accurately, Miguel implies you should.
•Yes, he was originally not going to interfere. But it was you who made the decision to stay, so obviously that meant something. And Miguel wouldn’t lie, whenever you returned to your Earth to fulfill your duties as Arachnid, he could barely think he was so worried. Every villain encounter, every scrape and bruise is another chance to fail to protect his child. Miguel gets more desperate over time. Your time in the lobby is almost exclusively spent with him. Every mission is with him, every meal is with him, almost every moment is spent by Miguel’s side. And honestly? You’re starting to get s little sick of it.
•Not that you were complaining. You’re so grateful for the opportunities Miguel gave you, but he’s so overbearing. Maybe it’s normal, you rationalize, you’re family isn’t very close. Besides, you’ve seen Peter B. Parker with Mayday. Even Miguel isn’t that clingy. Your senses are blaring danger and to get away, but your yearning for love and affection suppress them. You continue to push down your instincts until you can’t. Until you decide to listen to your doubts— only to prove them wrong, of course. However, just your luck, your instincts are proven correct. You discover a goddamn tracker implanted in your arm.
•Finally, everything clicks. Everything Miguel does? Not normal! Just creepy, especially this. Thus, you decide to leave. You dig out your tracker and stitch the wound back up. You leave the tracker where you know Miguel will find it and leave, discarding your portal bracelet. You return to your Earth for the final time, intent on never leaving again.
•When Miguel returns to find your tracker and no trace of you, he goes ballistic. You left, he can’t protect you. You’ll get hurt, you’ll die. Miguel can’t risk losing you. He travels to your Earth in search of you. There, he tracks you down to find you losing badly against the Green Goblin. You’re clutch your ribs, bruised and bloody. The moment he sees you like this, Miguel enters a blazing fury. He attacks the Goblin viciously, pounding him until a sickening crunch is heard and the Goblin’s neck snaps. You collapse, from your injuries and the shock of witnessing Miguel kill the Goblin.
•Your chest seizes, hyperventilating. You can hear your heart beat racing as Miguel turns to you. He watches you panic and slowly paces towards you. You attempt to scoot away, but you can barely move. Miguel’s mask is off. You can see his eyes being filled with the same eerie softness as the day you met. Carefully, he leans down and large hands grasp onto you. You struggle as best you can, squirming despite the pain.
“¡Ay! Cariño.” He admonishes gently. “Be still, you’ll hurt yourself.”
•Regardless of his orders, you continue to squirm. Sighing, Miguel extended his fangs and bit down on your neck. Paralyzed, you fall limp in his arms. Carefully, he maneuvers you so to not hurt you. He cradles you to his chest as he inspects you over.
“We’ll get you checked out when we go to your new room. ¿Estàts bien?”
•Unable to do anything, you lay helpless in Miguel’s arms as he takes you to your new fancy prison cell— or room as he calls it. From there, you’ll be safe. Somewhere only Miguel knows, a place he can be certain he can protect you. Yes, you’ll stay locked away in your gilded cage, guarded by Miguel. Safe from the world, from every threat but him.
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mooooonnnzz · 10 months
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Miguel taking his daughter to spider HQ?
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Miguel takes his daughter to HQ! How bad could it be?
✎ my brain is brewing with words
✎ fem reader!!
✎ send more ideas cuz my brain is in writing mode rn hehe
✎ oh miguel is also lil grumpy here bc why not
✎ ok thats all!! :p
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Miguel is very hesitant to bring you to HQ. He doesn’t want to have you near harm's way. Plus, there would be nothing for you to do there so what’s the point?
Though, you’re persistent and didn’t take his no for an answer.
He eventually gave in when you roped Lyla into it. He couldn’t deal with two annoyances at once. (He means it endearingly)
So, he brings you to HQ—against his will
Your eyes sparkled with amazement as you took in the place. The area was huge. “This place is so cool!” You marveled. You look over to Miguel, beaming brightly. “This is awesome!” You whispered and yelled, your attention going back to the Spider-People who swung and walked by. Miguel shook his head in amusement, a smile pulling to his lips. As you continued to wander off, he noticed you were walking a little close to the edge. “Cuidado!” His webs shoot around your waist as you near the edge. He pulls you into his chest, letting out a relieved sigh. “You have to be careful when you’re walking around here.” He’s following you like a hawk after that.
Since it’s your first time there, everyone jumps to the assumption that you’re another Spider-Woman who Miguel or Jess recruited.
Miguel is quick to squander those ideas. He informs them that you’re his daughter and he’s showing you the place.
They all have to take a moment. They’re all like, “What? Miguel has a daughter?”
When they ask why he never told them, he responds by saying; “You never asked.”
“That’s your daughter?” Peter B. Parker was gagged. He couldn’t comprehend the fact that Miguel had a daughter. “How come you never talked about her?!” His eyes are blown wide and his jaw is slack. Like, Miguel O’Hara has a daughter?! “I do. You just don’t listen.” He grumbled out, sending an icy glare to Peter. Miguel does talk about you, it just gets overshadowed by how much Peter talks about Mayday. “What? When!?” Peter sputters out. “All the time.” You roll your eyes at Miguel’s cold behavior. “Papi, don’t be mean.” Miguel’s pinched expression visibly softens at your words, right when Miguel is about to apologize, Peter turns over to you excitedly. “Do you want to meet my daughter?” Miguel lets out a long sigh. “Mayday would love to meet you!” Peter grins. “Speaking of the little devil, where is she?” He looks around, lips downturned into a frown. He cups his hands around his mouth. “Mayday!” Another sigh leaves Miguel’s lips. “Mayday, honey! Where are you?” Miguel takes this opportunity to grab your shoulder and walk away from Peter. Once he’s far enough, he gives you a tense smile. “Oh, there you guys are! For a second I thought you ran away from me.” Peter swings right next to Miguel, Mayday sitting comfortably in her baby carrier. The smile on Miguel’s face drops. “Anyways, meet Mayday!”
Miguel dreads the moment when you have to meet Gwen, Miles, Pav, and Hobie. They always bug him about you, wondering when he’ll bring you over.
They’ve seen him see videos of you and him on his little holograms as he worked, he isn’t secretive about you.
Plus, whenever he gets the chance to talk about you, he doesn’t hesitate to start blabbering.
So they know pretty much almost everything about you.
Blame Miguel
“Miigueel,” Gwen dragged out his name teasingly as she swung in front of you and Miguel. “Is this who we think it is!” Pavitr was brimming with excitement as he dropped right next to Gwen. “Is this Miguel’s daughter?” Hobie raised a brow as he leaned an arm on Pav’s shoulder. “About time we meet her!” Miles smiled, giving you a friendly wave. You wave back, chuckling to yourself. Miguel dragged a hand down his face as he groaned dramatically loud. “Estos son los imbéciles de los que te sigo hablando.” Miles' face dropped to an offended look. “Really?” Miles says. Hobie furrowed his brows. “What did he say?” He looked over to Miles in confusion. Pavitr shrugged. “I don’t know but I don’t think it was a good thing.”
The whole tour was a headache for Miguel. He couldn’t stay in one place without Gwen offering a new place to head to, or Hobie asking questions on how you manage to have a dad like Miguel.
Pav was adding his commentary to certain situations which drove Miguel up the wall. Miles was trying to strike up a conversation with you, trying to impress you by speaking in Spanish.
Then Peter came along and the whole thing fell into chaos
“Hold Mayday real quickly. I need to take a picture of you two!” Peter handed you Mayday and she fumbled in your hands until you managed to rest her on your side. “Picture? Can I join!” Pavitr jumped right next to you, striking a dashing smile as he struck a pose. Miles and Gwen swarmed in the photo, settling around you and posing. Gwen did a peace sign while Miles did bunny ears on Gwen. Hobie lazily smiled, body halfway into the frame. “Hobie, get your whole body in the photo!” Peter motioned Hobie to move into the frame. “I don’t wanna.” Hobie shrugged. Peter sighed and let him be, gleefully saying “Cheese!” as he snapped a few photos. “Oh, MJ is gonna love this!” Peter mumbled to himself. Mayday looked up at you, cutely babbling in her baby language. Her chubby arm grappled onto your shoulder and pulled herself up with her inhuman baby strength. “Oh! Peter, she’s climbing on me!” You watch in horror as she settles on your shoulder, only to fall back and luckily get caught by Miguel. “Oh, don’t worry. She does that.” Peter waves it off, eyes glued on the photos. “Por Dios,” Miguel murmured under his breath.
When you got home, Miguel swore to himself that he’d never bring you back over there.
You went back to HQ a day later.
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simpcityy · 10 months
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I’m Not Her (Father Miguel O’Hara x Teen! Daughter Reader)
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Summary: Miguel O’Hara is your biological father but it’s not great being his daughter when he’s hooked in the past still.
Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or any of its characters. This is very short as well! Just a little prompt I thought also, I know the song is about a girl who loves a boy etc., but I thought of it more as father and daughter way. *Ahem* Him thinking of Gabi rather than the present daughter he has…I’m sorry if I confused you.
Word Count: 500
Warnings: Use of female pronouns, Use of (Y/N), angst, Father Miguel, overall, it’s just sad. Uhhh I think that is all for now.
Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6
Being the biological daughter of Miguel O’Hara has its ups and downs but mostly downs according to you. Walking through the Spider Society, you held some reports from Jess, she was on her way to hand them over to your father but seeing the kind person you are, you decided to do it for her so she can rest. You're amazed how a woman so pregnant can still fight. Walking down the halls, you were alone with your thoughts. The time he left to be a father to another girl..a girl named Gabriella…were you not enough for him? What did Gabi have that you didn’t? So many thoughts running through your head only to be snapped from hearing Mayday giggling in the room. Taking a deep breath, you pushed in ready for the chaos. “Hey! (Y/N)!” Peter smiles holding an energetic child. “Hey” You responded before looking over at Miguel who was looking at the videos that hurt you the most. Videos of him and Gabriella. You only frown a bit before masking it. “I'll just drop this off” You dropped the files onto a flat surface before walking to the door. “Hey Boo! You going to ask him?” Lyla appears in front of you smiling. You look at her and back to Miguel before shaking your head. “No…he has better things to do” You whisper walking through her, leaving. Lyla watches you staying quiet before next to Miguel. “Files were dropped.” She brought him back to reality. “Hmm? Who?” He mutters looking at the AI. He goes down his platform and picks up the files you left. “(Y/N) did, she was here not long ago” Lyla looks at her phone scrolling through it. Miguel looks at the door where you left not long ago.
Sitting out on the roof of your dimension, your thoughts only seem to be filling you up with anger. Why did he leave you to be a father for another kid…yeah, she lost her father but so did you…he left you to be with her. You groan out in frustration before looking at the time. “There is not enough time left” You mutter before getting up and going back to the house. A home where you stopped waiting for him to come home. Upon reaching your room, you changed into your pjs before walking over to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, you pulled out a cake you ordered yourself from your favorite shop. Placing it on the table, you put the candles on and sat down in front of it. “Happy Birthday to me…happy birthday to me…” You began to sing before letting out a sob. Your candles were put out from your tears. Another year alone and many more to go.
“If I could be her…but I’m not her and she’s not me.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Authors note: This was just little one-shot. An idea that always comes to mind whenever I listen to that amazing song! I am working on part 3 of the Biomedical Engineer x Miguel. Hopefully this weekend it comes out along with the last part of my first father figure Miguel x reader. Please check those out if you haven’t. I’m stuck if I should make this into a full series as well, but I don’t know if people would interest in it. Anyways, as always sorry for any grammar errors. Thank you all for the support! Remember to stay hydrated and to keep on simping! (Simp City Population: 62!) Thank you so much for the follows and please you are welcome to reblog my works for others to be aware of this new Miguel O’Hara simp writer!
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ladyelissarose · 9 months
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‘Reckless’
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Summary; Miguel finds out why you’ve been too careless and reckless on missions..
Warnings: an argument between the two- its not to heavy.. mostly hurt/comfort
“Ow-“
You had just flinched your arm away from Miguel when he had grabbed it. You cradled it close to you as he then scolded you firmly, keeping an eye on you as you refused to meet his,
“You lied. It’s not a scratch!! You broke your arm and he almost had your head!!”
You rolled your eyes at his loud words and even scoffed, even though you winced when you tried to put your arm down, trying to show it was ok- which you totally failed at doing. Nonetheless you sighed, annoyance evident in your tone,
“Ok maybe I did! But it’s not that bad-“
With one hand on his waist and the other pointing at you, he snapped,
“You disobeyed orders! You’re making close calls and I don’t like it! Yes we can get hurt on the job, but not like this when you’re making poor choices.”
Feet planted on the ground you tried to keep a steady position and look strong, taking his yelling about safety and all, but in reality you were in pain and felt lightheaded, and slowly you were growing frustrated because of it as Miguel ranted on.
“Come on niña!! (Girl) what’s the matter with you-“
Finally you’ve had enough of his mountain of a man speaking down to you as you were of course shorter… but in his eyes all he saw was you being very careless.
The pain was getting to you, making your emotions swirl out of place, hence why you screamed,
“AND WHAT’S YOUR POINT!?”
Miguel flinched a bit at your unusual behavior with him, but he couldn’t help but let his ego bark back at you with some honesty to wake your head up.
“That you could’ve been killed!! That’s the point! Do you know what kind of problems that would’ve caused? Pain or anything? Cómo puedes ser tan imprudente y no preocuparte por las consecuencias, niña terca?!” (How could you be so reckless and not care about the consequences you stubborn girl!?)
Tears of anger and pain grew in your once sun-shining eyes as you shouted back, trying to reason out your deal,
“Because I have nothing to lose ok!?? Maybe that’s why I don’t care as much!!”
Miguel was about to yell back, but your words caught him off guard. Like if someone sucker punched him.
He didn’t look so bulky or so scary anymore, when he lowered himself onto one knee to get on your level, as he reasoned with curiosity, one hand resting on your good shoulder,
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
His brown eyes showed his genuine concern for you, unlike anyone you’ve known. You wanted to keep tough and play as the fearless Spider-Woman you were, but it was made impossible when Miguel got a hold of your cheek, beckoning you silently to speak up.
So at last, you broke and confessed, like a little girl and no longer like Spider-Woman.
Letting the façades you wore tumble down through your tears, into his large hands that would catch and hold them all.
“Nothing.… that I have no one back at home.. no family to mourn me. Bury me. Cover my graves with flowers. Like if I had to put everything aside and boil it down for me- I’m… alone.”
His lips parted a bit, as his eyes searched yours, trying to find the right words to say.
It had been a while since he’s used good encouraging words while being kind, but suddenly it was like a switch that flipped in him, and almost immediately he found the words, and he patted your cheek gently as he cooed, his anger and disappointment long gone.
“You’re not alone. You have me.. and I’ll never leave you out like that. But even then I won’t ever do such.”
“Like what?”
He shrugged a bit and shyed out with his eyes everywhere but on you, mostly cause of the fear it caused him to think of you six feet under, and he knew it’d be seen on him.
“The burying thingy and all.”
‘Oh so he wouldn’t bury me then? Or what?…’
“Oh.. why?”
Disappointment was heard in your voice, and Miguel was quick to address with his eyes on you this time, wanting to show he meant it with every bone and vain in his body,
“Because Dulce, I wouldn’t ever let you die on me. You’re not allowed to die under my watch, te lo prometo.” (I promise you that.)
Shyness took over you as the realization of your craziness, thinking it was ok to give up everything of you, when you had so much to lose.. so you apologized immediately.
“I’m so sorry- I didn’t know what I was thinking-“
“Shh shh sh.”
He shushed you right away, letting you know that it was ok as he added,
“It’s ok now.. you’re safe, alive, and here… No más lágrimas mi amada.” (No more tears my beloved.)
With gentle hands he cradled your face and let his thumbs wipe your tears away, refusing to let them fall.
He now wanted to see you cheered up, so he offered with the best smile he could muster.. if not the only one he showed- but just to you.
“You want ice cream after we leave the med? It’ll help with the fever you got.”
Twinkles were shining in your eyes as you replied with a nod,
“please?”
He chuckled at the sight of joy beaming on you, and he then stood up to his full height and took your good hand in his, leading you out as he responded sweetly, squeezing your hand comfortingly,
“of course Dulce-“
Then with a smirk most likely painted on his face, he added,
“-ven mi shadow.” (Come my)
Miguel knew deep down he had thought the same thoughts once, but with you around and so much more? He’d rather deal with the the weight of the good and bad everyday, then leave empty.
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mango-bango-bby · 7 months
Note
yandere! platonic miguel w a reader who isn't treated too well by their parents in their dimension and tries to be at HQ a lot to escape please?
Ty for ur time!
♡ Escape ♡
Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, platonic yandere, dad!Miguel, teen/tween!reader, mentions of abuse and neglect, isolation, basically kidnapping
Summary: Your family is mistreating you and Miguel notices (Platonic!Yan!Miguel O’Hara x GN!teen/tween!reader)
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
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♡ You loved being a spider-person. Although it wasn’t the powers, or the love from the public for your super-hero persona, or even really saving people that you loved about it. You liked being able to hide. You liked swinging your way up to the top of a building and staying there for hours, away from home until you absolutely had to home.
♡ So when you were introduced to the spider-society, of heroes just like you, of course you wanted to be there. You stayed there for hours, even late in the night. Even doing mundane things, just at HQ instead of home.
♡ Miguel of course noticed. Yes, you were an “annoying kid” as he told himself. But you also helped him, you were strong and helped him track down anomalies. He didn’t want to admit it, but he had grown fond of you. You were just a silly kid, he didn’t outwardly say it but he felt like he was responsible for you. Perhaps it was the father in him, but he felt the need to care for you, keep you safe.
♡ He did notice that you spent a lot of time at HQ, but more specifically in his office. You would just say hello to him and sit on the floor. He was a bit annoyed at first but you weren’t interrupting so it didn’t bother him to much. He did notice that you would just… sit there. You wouldn’t do anything spider-man related, you just exsisted. You would eat in there, watch things on your phone, do your homework, watch him do stuff on the monitors. You did everything in his office, maybe because you felt safe with him.
♡ Miguel noticed, but foolishly didn’t think much of it. He actually liked you, so it didn’t bother him too much. Maybe it was the father in him, or maybe that you clearly were trying to help him. But he felt protective over you, you were just a kid after all.
♡ What he definitely noticed and was concerned about is when one day, you showed up wearing your hero mask. You kept your spider-person mask on. But not in battle, just hanging out in his office. You were just watching him do stuff on the monitors while wearing your hero mask. Of course, you were hiding a bruise but no one knew.
♡ Although you eventually couldn’t take it anymore, all of your emotions erupting out at once. So you went to the only person you trusted, the only person who made you feel safe. Which was Miguel. You walked into HQ crying, keeping you mask on to try and conceal your tears. And you just hugged him and he rocked you side to side as if you were a baby.
♡ After you tell him, he knows exactly what he has to do. How could he ever let you go back to a family like that!? So you stay with him for that night. But he convinces you to stay with him longer, your family isn’t safe for you to be around. Perhaps he may need to pay a visit to your parents, they were going to be your canon event anyways so he might speed that up.
♡ You’re only a child. Nothing is exactly safe for you in your universe. Not your family, and especially not being a hero! So he begins to isolate you, convincing you to stay home. But it’s better than your parents so you gladly accept being isolated and kept away from the rest of the world. But at least you’re getting loved, being cared for and doted on by your real papa.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Thank you for reading, darling!!
(A/N: You all are loving platonic yandere lately because it’s like all that’s in my inbox 😭😭 Not that I’m real complaining though 🫶 I’ve been working on what Halloween requests I have lately 💗)
Masterlist ➸ ♡
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jad3s1 · 10 months
Text
Yan! Miguel O’Hara x daughter! Reader
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Summary ; you were from earth 2199, you and your father were living peacefully. Until your father from earth 2099 came to take you back home. It didn’t matter to him if you wanted to or not.
Warnings! Yandere / dark themes , bad writing , description of gore, Google translated Spanish , use of y/n (like once or twice idk), reader is 13 , and this is really short…sorry💪🏻🤨
——————————————
You were sleeping peacefully in your father’s arms, he had came home from work a few hours ago and now the two of you were curled up in your bed. Even if you were a teenager, you and your father had a strong bond.
A portal opens opens in your quiet room, a 6’5 figure stepped out. Miguel O’Hara. He walked up to you’re bed, staring down at your dad with an almost feral look. Then looking at you his face softened, he then carefully picked you up and placed you in your own pillow. Looking back at your dad, which was just a different happier version of him. Miguel’s claw extended and he placed it directly too your fathers neck, dragging it across his neck the blood spilling and the sound of your father choking on his own blood woke you up.
Staring in horror at the tall masked man who just killed your father. “mi dulce hija, you are safe now.” The man tried to comfort you, backing up you hit the wall as tears we’re completely fading your vision. “Get away you monster!” You yelled out. Your words hurt him deeply.
Miguel grabbed your ankle and dragged you back to him, he pulled of his mask and he looked exactly like your now dead father. Crying out even harder you also held a confused expression, he leaned over your neck and bit into you. It felt almost like a vaccine you would get at the doctors, feeling your body starting to go limp as you were still awake was scary.
“I’m just bringing you home, mi belleza.” Miguel picked up your limp body like it was nothing, holding a hand across your back and one under your legs as the portal opened again and he walked in with you in his arms
—————————————————-
It had been a few weeks, and you were still resting him. he had gotten fed up,Leading up to an argument.
“Why can’t you let me go! I’m not your daughter!” You yelled, you were both standing in the living room. “Because! I lost you once. And I fucking refuse to lose you again. You don’t know how long I’ve had to stare at a screen while watching some other version of me get to love you like I did. I’ve missed you for 5 years. You are still my daughter and I won’t let you leave.” There was a silence before he spoke again sternly “go to your room and don’t come back out until I tell you too.”
There was no use in fighting him on this. A little while afterwards you were laying in bed,curled into a fetal position. you heard a nock on your door, before Miguel opened it softly. “¿Mi vida? Are you okay? Listen I’m sorry I yelled, but I need you to understand why I’m doing this… it’s for your own good.” He spoke gently.
You stayed silent with your back turned, “y/n. You can’t ignore me forever.” He said, still calmly but he seemed like he was about to start yelling..Still no answer. Before he was about to yell, quiet sniffles erupted. Miguel sighed and walked over to your bed.
Sitting down on your bed he comfortingly pats your shoulder, “ I’ve never lied to you.” Miguel spoke firmly. “ well- “ you started off, “that’s not true —I’ve had you lie to me before many times.” Miguel only looked at you before repeating, harsher this time. “ I have never lied to you.” he said“ well that’s not true, what about when you said i could go back to my original dad” your eyebrows furrowed as you spoke.
“ I’ve been wrong ,but I’ve never lied to you , I love you mi hija” Miguel answered with his hand on your shoulder, finally turning to face him you sit up and stare at him for a few seconds. You throw yourself at him in a hug, he catches you and hold you tightly as you burry your head in his neck/shoulder. Muttering apologies as you hold onto him as tightly as you can, he pets your hair. “Shhhh it’s okay mi vida.”
That would have been comforting, if there wasn’t a sick grin on his face.
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ghost-with-a-teacup · 10 months
Note
hi!! i have a platonic req for miguel x chaotic teen reader who has a bad relationship with her dad, just a man who lost his daughter and a girl who never had a proper father.. what could go wrong..(im a slut for found family)
𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐚 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Platonic!Reader
Summary: After a really bad fight with your father, you escape to HQ, the one place you can find solace. To take your mind off things, you go on a mission with Miguel, but it seems you're a little too in your head.
Warnings: Arguments, swearing, and violence in the beginning so be cautious.
A/N: Finally back with some good ol' hurt/comfort, and found family :3
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“I’m sick and tired of having the same argument with you over and over again!” you say, the anger rising in your veins as your frustration bubbles over. You blink harshly as you try to force the angry tears down, your father seething angrily in front of you.
“Ever since Mom died, you’ve been unbearable. I’m an adult, you can’t control my life anymore pretending like it's love when I know damn well you don’t give a flying fuck about me,” you say, pointing an angry finger at him.
“WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE TALKING TO,” he shouts, stomping over and grasping your hair harshly as you let out a yelp.
“I give you a roof to live under, food to eat. I raised you, I am your father, and you think you can back talk me you brat?” he spits in your face, and your recoil in disgust.
It was always like this. He justified giving you the bare minimum as being a father, when the house you lived in was never really a home. Not after your Mom died, when everything fell apart.
When you became your world’s Spiderman.
“You were a spectator in my life, you were never truly my father,” you whisper harshly as his grip tightens on your hair. His eyes narrow at yours before he throws you to the ground harshly.
“Get out,” he says.
“W-what?” you ask, your body radiating with pain from the impact.
“GET OUT!” he shouts, leaning over you menacingly. “You think you’re so grown, then get the fuck out of my house because I am sick and tired of you. You don’t think I’m your father? Then I won’t be. You’re lucky your whore of a mother wanted to keep you around because in my eyes you were always my one worst mistake,” he says, and his words hit you like a freight train.
You knew he never loved you. Even before your Mom died he never truly seemed to like you around, only tolerated you because of how much your Mom adored you.
When she died, the substance abuse began. You practically raised yourself and learned how cold the world truly was. You never knew the love of your father, but even still, it hurt to hear him say what you always understood deep down.
“Fine,” you say softly, standing up and opening a portal to HQ. His eyes widen as he watches, but you don’t even give a damn anymore if he sees.
You were never going to see him again anyway.
In an instant, you were gone.
~
You emerge on the other side, right into the lobby of the Spider Society. A few familiar faces recognize you, waving in greeting. You wave back with a smile that doesn’t quite meet your eyes.
“Hey Lyla?” you call out, and she appears hovering over your shoulder with a grin.
“What’s poppin', buttercup?” she says cheerfully, and the corner of your mouth quirks up a bit.
“I was just wondering if Miguel was around,” you say, and she reappears in front of your face.
“He was actually about to leave for a mission, want me to tell him to wait up?” she asks, and you nod.
“That would be great, thanks,” you say, letting out a soft sigh of relief.
“Already done, you know where to find him,” she says, before throwing up a peace sign and disappearing.
Miguel was…you didn’t exactly know what to call him. A mentor? A friend? Guardian maybe?
All you knew was that (despite a rocky start), he was one of the few people across the multiverse that you truly trusted. He was harsh at times, rough around the edges and gruff…but he was like a light you’ve never known.
You both had your baggage, and you have both lost a lot in your lives, but maybe that’s why it worked. Whatever it was.
“Miguel?” you call out, looking around the monitoring room. He wasn’t on his usual platform which was odd. All of a sudden you get that familiar tingle on the back of your neck, and you whip around.
“HOLY GODS,” you exclaim as you see him hovering in the shadows like a wraith ready to leap out for the attack. “What are you doing?!”
He only chuckles at your expense, walking out with an amused grin on his face.
“Just making sure your reflexes are working properly,” he states simply.
“By giving me a heart attack in the process?” you say with an exaggerated frown, and he snorts.
“Don’t be dramatic, besides, you make stupid faces when you get scared,” he says, and you gasp offendedly.
“Well, you always look stupid so beat that,” you retort, and his hand grasps his chest dramatically.
“How could you? After everything we’ve been through, you think I look stupid?” he says, and you can’t help the breathy laughter that escapes. But before long the smile is replaced by a frown.
You could never really hide your emotions around him, he could always read you too well.
“You alright, kiddo?” he asks. He tried to mask his concern, but his eyes never lied.
“Never better!” you say, your tone overly sarcastic. Miguel eyes you with an expression that says ‘That’s a load of shit’, but you just brush him off with a nervous chuckle.
“You were about to go on a mission right? Can I come along? Cool, great, awesome,” you say, not even waiting for his reply. You press a button on the back of your neck that replaces your clothes with your Spider Suit and turn to look at him expectantly.
“Let’s just pack this guy up, in and out right?” you say, and he sighs.
“Fine, you can come along,” he relents, opening up a portal.
“You do realize I was going to come along either way, right?” you say, and he shakes his head knowingly.
“I know, you have the stubbornness of a bull but it helps me feel at least somewhat like the leader of the Society if I get the final say,” he says, his voice almost small which makes you laugh out loud.
“There, there,” you say, patting his shoulder as the two of your approach the portal together. “Everyone around here respects your authority,” you say with a grin before your mask covers your face.
“Except you,” he scoffs.
“Except me,” you say in turn.
~
“So what’s the deal with this anomaly?” you ask as the two of you emerge on the other side, not wanting to go in completely blind if you didn’t have to. You were reckless, but you weren’t completely stupid.
“Came in through a tear from Earth-848710. Has the power to manipulate metal to his advantage. At the height of his powers he has the ability to control even the iron in our blood so watch out,” he instructs.
“Ooh, freaky. What, like blood bending in Avatar: The Last Airbender?” you ask, and a confused expression washes over Miguel’s face which makes you giggle a bit.
“Like what?”
“Oh Miguel, don’t worry, we’ll binge watch it later, just you wait,” you reply before the back of your neck tingles, and you sling a web up onto the ceiling, yanking you up off the ground.
Just in time, because in the place that you once were stood a beam of metal impaled into the ground.
“Holy shit!” you yelp, and Miguel is swinging right up beside you.
“That’s our cue then. On your toes, spiderling,” he says, and you grin. You don’t exactly remember when he started saying that phrase to you, but it was standard procedure before every fight for him to say it now.
“You got it, old man,” you snicker, and he rolls his eyes before swinging away, allowing you to analyze the villain down below.
His pillars were optimal at a range, so close combat was likely your best bet at beating the guy.
“You gonna hang up there all day, little thing? C’mon, give me a real fight,” the villain calls up to you tauntingly, and you scoff. Of course, he was going to be annoying, just what you needed.
“I’m just trying to find the quickest way to take your annoying ass down and believe me, it will happen,” you retort, swinging down before levelling him with a kick into his gut before he could react. He groans out in pain as you see Miguel send out his webbing from the corner of your eye.
But the villain seemed to notice it as well, using a shard of metal to slice it away before it could reach him.
“You think it’d be that easy, I’ve spent my whole life fighting so-called ‘heroes’ like you,” he scoffs.
“All that says to me is that you’re old,” you snicker, and he scoffs before sending a beam of metal toward you again. You leap out of the way just in time, but the villain picks up the pace.
Ear-scrapingly loud screeches of metal can be heard from all around as he pulls support beam after support beam out of the building to throw at you and Miguel.
“Where’s all that confidence from earlier, little hero?” he calls out toward you. “I thought you were going to take me down, yet here I stand. Maybe you’re weaker than you thought,” he laughs, and you narrow your eyes in annoyance.
You know you shouldn’t lead with your emotions, it was a recipe for disaster in a job like this but you couldn’t help it.
“Enough of this-” you seethe before you’re interrupted.
“THE BUILDING IS FALLING APART,” you hear Miguel shout, and it was true. With each support beam that the villain ripped from the frame, the more unstable the place became. You had to get this guy packed up and pronto, before you all were crushed.
“I’m tired of your games, anomaly,” you huff, levelling him with a glare.
“Why so serious? Your parents never hug you enough as a kid?” the villain says mockingly. You knew it was only to get a rise out of you, every comment of his was, but with your emotions already on high, you immediately saw red.
Everything you had bottled up and shoved down bubbled over like lava, and you lunged for the villain with a snarl.
You threw punch after punch as he cried out in pain, unable to do anything with your webs trapping him in place.
That’s when you feel webs that weren’t your own wrapping around your shoulders, yanking you off of the villain. You yank at the bonds, desperately trying to escape the fluorescent red webbing.
“Let me go, let me go! Let me finish him, Miguel,” you cry out, but he ignores you for a moment.
He shoves the villain through the newly opened portal without a second thought, knowing Jess would handle it on the other side before turning back to you.
“Hey, hey, hey, hey!” he says as he grabs your shoulders, holding you in place as he retracts the webbing. You wriggle around in his grasp, chest heaving with each breath as tears brim over in your eyes. He looks at you with concern, just scanning over you to make sure you were alright before truly looking at you. It made you feel small as you struggled to hold back your sobs.
His eyes only softened, clicking your mask off before brushing his hand gently over your hair, and it only made you want to cry even more.
“C’mere kid,” he says, pulling you into a hug. You exhale shakily before hugging him back tightly, the tears you had been holding back all day finally falling down.
He was so warm…his arms embracing you gently in the way your real father never could.
You stood there in his arms for a few minutes, sobbing into his chest while he just held you gently. After a little while your sobs subsided, replaced with the occasional sniffle before you pull away, looking off to the side sheepishly.
“Do you want to tell me what’s really bothering you now, mi tesoro,” he asks gently, not wanting to push you to say something you didn’t want to.
You only sigh softly, glancing back only to see the worry in his eyes before relenting.
“I don’t have a good relationship with my father…you know this,” you smile sadly, and he only nods, waiting for you to continue.
“We got into a really bad argument before I came here, and well, I don’t really have a father anymore. He kicked me out,” you sniffle. “And I know it shouldn’t bother me as much as it does, because he never cared for me like a parent should but it still hurts Miguel,” you say, your eyes tearing up again. He smiles sadly at you, brushing away a tear gently.
“I’m sorry, mi ángel,” he says, not really knowing what else to say. “But don't blame yourself for feeling what you feel. You can't help it, and besides, losing all that you knew, even if it hurt you is still difficult," he says, and you nod knowing that what he said was true. It wasn't easy to accept though, so you don't say anything in response.
"...You do know you always have a home here, don’t you?” he says, and you laugh softly to yourself, not really knowing why.
“I do?” you ask, and he chuckles fondly.
“Always,” he says before his eyes grow distant for a moment. “…I lost Gabriella a long time ago, I never really recovered from that loss…I don’t think I ever will. But I do believe that the universe sent me you in turn. You won’t ever be her, I know that. But you don’t have to be, because I care for you like a child of my own regardless. You know that, don’t you?” he says, the genuineness of his words evident.
“Thank you,” you whisper, hugging him tightly once more. “I have never felt more safe in my life than when I’m with you," you admit.
He only smiles, and for a moment you think you can see the glimmer of tears in his red eyes but figured it must have been a trick of the light.
“Let’s head back to HQ, kiddo. We can figure out some place for you to stay, alright?” he says, and you nod before pausing for a moment.
“Could I…stay with you?” you ask hesitantly, and his eyes widen for a moment.
“If that’s what you’d like, it can be arranged,” he says before laughing softly. “My house has always been too big for just one person anyway.” Immediately your expression brightens as you skip toward the open portal, a large grin on your face.
“I would like that very much.”
✧✧✧✧✧
A/N: Good gods it has literally been almost 2 weeks since I last posted. I'm so sorry, life has been kicking my ass but I'm back!! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading <33
Taglist: @beiroviski, @scaraza, @blueoorchid, @remuslupinwifee, @local-mr-frog, @johfaam0, @rawegggohan, @honeycriess, @alexenoirex, @chimpkinnuggies, @rqdior, @banana—belle, @notasadgirlipromise, @6billionyearsold, @gods-perfectidiot, @ieatmunson, @honeii-puff, @wh0re4zaynmalik, @toplinehyunjin, @ohworm-writes, @ishii03, @snowywhiterose, @leftcupcakedefendor
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pearlsinmyhair · 10 months
Text
₊ ⊹ the price of the name.
synopsis: reader has had a hard life, and now she’s an orphan. but someone just as lonely comes into her life to take her under his wing.
warnings: angst. lots of hurt, very little comfort. miguel is a hardass who pushes people away. death.
platonic!miguel x daughter-like!reader. no seriously, reader is eighteen and young. this is found family, not romantic.
the intention is for this to be multi-part. how many parts? idk.
word count: 1.3k
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pt i : fate
   .     ˚     *     ✦   .  .   ✦ ˚      
being a spider person was always unfair. mercy from whatever divine being that controlled their universes was hard to come by.
you were no exception.
your father died early, shot by a man who ran with someone’s purse. you didn’t know him well, you were only three after all. but your mother fought hard to teach you about him, to make sure you remembered some semblance of him.
and all was well for a time. you went to school, made some friends, started working for some extra cash under the table.
you were reaching up into your attic when the sharp sting of a spider bite zinged up from your hand. you killed it with a slap, but nothing could stop the venom that now traveled through your veins.
the rest was history: you became your universes one and only spider woman, learning her trade as she went.
the cannon event hit later, and it was different from the others.
you had no uncle to find dead on the street.
but you did have a mother.
she was working the late shift at the hospital when a spouse of a dead patient burst through the doors and demanded to see a doctor. apparently, the man wanted revenge for the hospitals failure to save his wife, and he had come to instill justice.
your mother had raised her hands and tried to plead for him to stop, to calm down, to lower his gun.
the shot made your spider-senses go haywire, and you practically flew to the trauma center. the security guards had no idea what to do, so you just ran past them to find your mother bleeding on the cold white tile.
it took everything in you to remember that behind your mask, no one knew you were this woman’s daughter, and you’d have to respond carefully. you watched as the officers called the next of kin, and you were thankful that you had had the mind to put your phone on silent that day.
no one noticed the tears streaming from your eyes behind the suit. you swung back home as fast as you could, answering your phone when they called you again.
pretending to not know what was going on was the second worst thing you had to do that day. you had to fight from chocking on tears as you answered the call.
eighteen and orphaned, standing over your mothers open casket. a part of you thanked that you were older, because it meant that you didn’t have to go into foster care. but nothing could truly quell your grief.
and then the universe decided to send you a big middle finger in the shape of a Doc Oc right after the funeral ended.
you knew that you couldn’t keep going like this. no one should process grief this fast. but as the villain sent a tidal wave through the streets of new york city you relized that you didn’t exactly have a choice.
with great power comes great responsibility.
and saving these people was your responsibility, no matter what mental state you were in.
this Doc Oc looked to be from some other dimension. instead of mechanical tentacles like that of your Doc Oc, he had real ones, and he apparently threw actual octopi at people when he was pissed off.
it was no easy task, and at one point he had thrown you against the wall and knocked your head. as your vision swam, he picked you up with one of his suctioned limbs and squeezed.
it all happened so fast.
a flash of orange and yellow swirling at the edge of your vision. orange silk shooting into your captors face. and then someone shot forward and sliced the tentacle that held you.
you sank to the ground as you caught your breath, vaguely hearing someone say “Lyla, run a diagnostic. what’s the best way to take this guy down?”
as you wheezed, a large hand rested against your shoulder, and a soft voice greeted your ears.
“Sit tight, kid. I’ll handle this.”
you didn’t have time to argue when the hand vanished, and you peered up just in time to see a large spider-man in a blue suit throwing himself at the villain.
you stood as you caught your breath, rushing right back into battle to help the man that had saved you. the Doc Oc dragged you both to the bay, sinking down into the water. it was advantageous for him, being a water dwelling creature, and you and the man struggled. it took another spider, a woman on a motor cycle, showing up to help defeat him.
but it was you who dealt the final blow, wrapping the villains limbs to a nearby pier to keep him underwater. when the pair of new spider people got him all tied up and prepared to take away, you just…collapsed.
everything came down on you at once. your exhaustion, your sadness, your loneliness. everything.
you barely heard the spider woman murmur to the brash man across from her, and it was only when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around you and pick you up that you snapped back to reality.
but just as quickly as you zeroed in on the feeling, your brain whispered sleep in your ear, and you passed out.
₊ ⊹
you woke to a strange bare bedroom and an odd watch that flickered with light on your wrist. noticing the glass of water on the bedside table, you chugged it, coughing when you got too eager.
“You’re awake!”
you screamed, a small voice coming from right beside your head unexpectedly. you turned to see a small woman illuminated in the light from your watch.
“no need to be afraid. i’m lyla.”
lyla. that rang a bell.
“where am i?” you asked as you noticed the clothes folded in the corner of the room. you cast a sideways glance at the projection, and lyla turned to give you the illusion of privacy.
“miguel will answer all your questions. i’ve alerted him of your new condition.”
you slipped on the black sweatpants and top gratefully, relishing the feeling of soft cotton against your skin. as your hands moved over your body, you quickly noticed various cuts and bruises.
that’s right, i passed out.
“where is this miguel?” you asked as you studied the watch, noticing the flickering ‘EARTH-928’ across the screen.
almost immediately, little glowing footsteps were projected from the watch, making you whip your hand away from your face.
“i guess that’s my answer?” you asked lyla, and the woman nodded.
you sighed, figuring you might as well follow them.
fantastic survival skills from the one and only spider-woman.
well, you thought, not the one and only.
₊ ⊹
the man before you seemed almost nothing like he was when you were fighting Doc Oc.
he seemed…infinitely tired. his shoulders hunched, head ducked down. you supposed that you were distracted during the fight.
but his expression revealed much more than his body language. he had deep eye bags, and his cheeks were sunken in a way that expressed not just natural bone structure but also a lack of eating and sleeping properly.
miguel looked drained.
you were still processing what he had told you, about the cannon and the ‘Spider-Society’ and the ‘Arachno-Humanoid Poly-Multiverse.’
you had actually openly scoffed at that one, and he looked dejected by your reaction.
“but i can’t just send you home now. i’m pretty sure jess would actually web me for all eternity if i did.” he was saying, rubbing his brow.
“so what exactly am i doing here, then?” you asked, curious but hesitant.
he turned his back to you, looking forlornly at his screens.
“i’m going to train you.”
“why?” came your response, surprised and uncertain. you may have only known miguel for less than an hour, but you could already tell that taking on a young apprentice wasn’t exactly in his character.
he didn’t turn to you. he just kept looking at a picture of a young girl on one of his screens.
“because you remind me of someone.” he said quietly. then he looked at you, and you were struck with the amount of guilt and suffering that lived in his eyes.
“and because you remind me of myself. and i can’t let you become like me.”
masterlists | part ii
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voltronisanobsession · 10 months
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miguel finding his kid again
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I wanted this to be short but I couldn’t help writing so much :/ I just ended it quickly LMAO💀💀
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SPIDERVERSE CONCEPT CUZ IVE BEEN OBSESSED
OK SO!! I’ve seen a LOT of headcanons and concepts about Miguel finding his kid in a different universe and just being super protective of them, whether they’re a spider or a normal civilian. But I have a different take on it.
Imagine Miguel and his crew of spider people hunting down this new anomaly that’s been jumping between different universes, always managing to narrowly escape them. Miguel is super frustrated because not one of them is able to capture this villain? Person? Ugh he doesn’t have enough time to care with all the mayhem they’re causing.
This new anomaly, aka Reader, happened to gain these freak new abilities after the events in ITSV that allows them to tear a hole in any universe and travel through it. Of course they have no idea which universe their new powers will take them to so it’s always a 50/50 chance with it.
But the real problem that makes reader a ‘threat’ to the spider society is when they stay too long in a universe, things start slowly glitching out and causing destruction to the world. They’re just too strong that it breaks the balance of any universe they stay in. Kind of like tipping the scale sort of deal!
Which is why homeboy Miguel wants Reader detained asap before they cause a whole universe to collapse on itself. But like! It’s not the readers fault really!! They just don’t know how to control their powers and having a bunch of adults viciously chase them around really does something to a kid (looking at you Miles💀)
But constantly running away from superheroes while wearing a mask does begin painting them in a villain light💔
So imagine Reader gets cornered at last by Miguel, Jess, and some other spiders.
“Guys, I promise it’s not what it looks like. I’m just a normal person, I’m practically harmless!” They say as they bump against the building behind them, watching in horror as it begins to glitch at the contact they made.
Despite the teens voice sounding familiar, Miguel brushes it off and scoffs.
“Ha, harmless. Don’t make this any more difficult than it has to be.”
Reader has no idea what the spider society is gonna do to them so they can only glitch a hole in the building behind them and run away in fear. Miguel is absolutely fed up with them and just dashes after Reader, chasing them up buildings as they glitch around. He knows he’s running out of time since this usually only happens when they’re getting ready to open a portal.
He would manage to get a hold of their hoodies sleeve before they go tumbling down to the ground, mask yanked off to properly breath in some air. Reader opens a portal, trying to stand up and stumbling a bit, looking back to Miguel.
Just as he’s about to run towards them and tackle them to the ground, his breath gets caught in his throat, heart suddenly beating erratically.
He recognizes their hair, the shape of their face, sees the fear in their eyes. He literally cannot move. Miguel is frozen at his spot, body trembling at the sight of you. His child. His dead child.
“y/n?” His voice would almost be a whisper, but reader hears. They can only stare in shock at the sound of their name, slowly backing up.
“How do you know my name?”
This dude would get some major flash backs, from his old life, to when he caused a universe’s destruction. Everything he swore to protect, to love, he failed. He failed reader twice, so it’s understandable that Miguel might be a little afraid of you.
He would not move an inch even after readers gone, Jess having to snap him back to reality. Miguel was not ready to get a smack to the face with seeing Reader again after all this time and pain.
This is what I wanted to talk about originally. After seeing his kid again, instead of growing desperate to create a new relationship with them, he’s just afraid. He’s scared of a repeat after what happened before. Miguel wouldn’t be able to stand the sight of reader, they remind him too much of what he’s lost.
I think he would step down in being about of the chase for Reader, he can’t go after them after finding out their his child. Well, in a different universe, their his child. He’s too afraid to face them again. Too afraid of the memories they bring.
It’s only when they accidentally glitch into his office that he’s forced to come face with them again. And when he does, he tries his best to get away from them💀💀💀 like bro is webbing away, powering up his platform and getting lifted up into the air away from them.
Which would totally be fine with Reader hadn’t they been chased down by this man for a couple of weeks. Why isn’t he trying to attack them? What’s the sudden mood change? Is he afraid of what they could do?
They can only clumsily climb their way up to him while asking him questions.
“Um, I know we got off the wrong foot but- urgh! Almost slipped haha! Anyways like I was saying! What’s your name? Oh and why are you trying to get away from me?”
They would be right in front of Miguel, a few feet away from where they’re hanging and he would just turn around, back facing them while they grunt in annoyance.
“You stopped going with your little gang. I know I’ve been zapping all over the place but was it something I did? Hey are you ok??”
Miguel’s body would move as he tries to stifle his quiet sobs at the sound of your voice. Oh god did he miss you. But he can’t get close to reader again. Not after what happened last time.
“I think I have tissue somewhere in my poCKEETTT-!” Miguel’s immediately webbing reader towards him as they slip off the pipe they were standing on, making a free fall
He lets out a shaky breath at the sight of you alright in his arms again. He can’t control his urges as he hugs reader tightly, letting soft apologies fall from his lips.
All this is happening and reader is just so dumbfounded. They could only awkwardly pat his arm and accept his apologies. You didn’t know he was THAT sorry for chasing you around universes.
“I missed you so much. I never wanted that to happen to you, mi corazon. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about man but thanks I guess?”
He’s sniffling as he releases you, eyebrows furrowed as he holds you by the shoulders. It’s only when he realizes reader has no idea who he is that his heart sinks.
“My dad died when I was young. Like toddler young. I never got to know him.”
You don’t know how to feel when Miguel reveals that he was your father, not the same dad from your universe, but a different variant.
This begins the weird growing relationship between the two of them. Miguel tries his best to put distance between them while Reader is just super eager to know more about him! His favorite foods, how he created this spider society, what happened to the different variant of you that clearly has him shaken up!
It would take a bit of time before Miguel slowly lets down his guard again. Allowing reader into his heart again for the third time.
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cxlamarisalxmi · 11 months
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Being Miguel’s legitimate daughter that he left behind and hosting Venom [FEM]
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[Platonic Drabble]
c/w: cringe writing, angst
[Unedited]
“How dare he?”
You ignored the symbiote raging in your head as you watched your father Miguel finish the battle with the Green Goblin variant. Binding him with glowing red organic webs and aligning him up and over his shoulder.
“How dare he return here?!”
“Venom,” you trailed exasperated. Obviously you weren’t happy at all to Miguel either but he hadn’t even seen you yet so what does it matter? Originally you and Venom had fully intended to take down Goblin and inform Peter B. Parker there was a variant in your dimension. (Don’t ask how you know him).
But then Miguel showed up instead, and honestly you should’ve expected that he would because he was the one who led the spider society. And he was among the first to know of any anomalies or unusual readings in any dimension.
And only Jessica and Lyla were a witness to the internal conflict inside him at the prospect of going to his daughter’s dimension. The daughter he abandoned in favor of a different one, a different daughter, a different universe… a different life.
He was absolutely certain that you hated him and you did, you held such bitterly angry and maliciously hateful feelings for him for such a long time. When you were young all you felt was confusion for his disappearance, but as you grew older and as time passed those feelings turned from rage at his betrayal… to utter heartbreak and despair at his departure.
For the longest time you’d believed that you’d done something wrong, because what had tog done that was so bad? What had you done that was so wrong? You didn’t mean to.. whatever it was you didn’t mean to.
Eventually you had come to learn that this was not a fault of yours, but of Miguel’s. You didn’t do a damn thing wrong, and you didn’t deserve this. Nobody did.
So you grew in the suffocatingly isolating darkness that was hate and grief. And as time passed you built walls thick and tall surrounding yourself, barbed defenses to protect your broken and vulnerable pieces. Behind those steeled doors you also tucked away the last part of your inner child, to keep her safe and protected.. from ever feeling this abandonment again.
When you were fourteen you’d found Venom, and at the time you had been living on the streets for close to two years. At fourteen is when you had very nearly quit on life, being alive was pain.. constant hurt that was very close to swallowing you whole.
Venom had stopped you, not because they had talked you out of it but more so because you were intrigued by the way they had glided across the ground. Even more so interested by the way the deep onyx goop slid up your hand before sinking into your body.
And you’ve been together ever since, the constant babble of the alien grated your nerves slightly but other than that you’d grown to love having them attached to you. And you wouldn’t change it for anything—
“[Y/Name]?”
You froze, previously having turned away from the scene of Miguel opening a glowing golden portal on the street below your perch to make a swift exit. But his voice had stopped you, and you’re not sure why you had even bothered to halt in your tracks.
“Wonderful,” you spat with toxin, “you remember my name.”
Miguel shouldn’t have been taken aback by your response, and he shouldn’t have been thrown off by your bite. He didn’t deserve to feel confused as to why you had responded to him so aggressively— because he knew why you had.
“Of course I do, I gave it to you.”
“Right,” you replied boredly before you were moving forward intent to leave the conversation there.
“[Y/Name]!” He called, and again you shouldn’t have given him even a second of your time but your broken and guarded heart longing for answers seemed to work your feet for you.
“[Y/Name], keep moving. Or I will. He does not deserve your time. He does not deserve you.”
“Did you ever wonder if I had even survived after you left? Did it ever cross your mind even once if I was still alive?”
“I checked on you regularly.”
“I see, the technology to travel through the multiverse also grants you the ability to peer into the lives of people you have ruined.”
You still hadn’t turned around, refusing to give him any sort of indication that you had actually cared about whatever it was he had to say.
“Look, I-I know that I’ve screwed up. I know that I hurt you—”
“Hurt me?” You chuckled humorlessly, a hitch of pain in your throat and fire on your tongue. “Hurt. Me? You may have before.. but you’ll never hurt me again.”
Venom had come through on the last word, enunciating the end of the sentence with a snarl. Ferocious and purely built from the pure emotional pain they could feel coming from their host.
Miguel subtly flinched at the deep growl in your tone, not enough for you to see but enough of a twitch that your heightened senses had picked up on it.
And you chose that moment to make your escape, stepping forward and utilizing Venom to vanish within the pitch black abyss of the shadows. The added darkness provided by the night sky and waning pale moonlight casting deeper shadows aiding Venom in helping you disappear entirely.
“[Y/Name] wait!—” Miguel reached out expecting to touch flesh but was met with nothing.
He stepped back, looked left then right then both directions once more before he exhaled tiredly and leapt back down to the road below. He lifted the Goblin and threw him in before jumping in himself, the portal closing behind him leaving the desolate street in utter darkness once again.
You had watched, this time from the gargoyle statue attached to the side of the roof’s lip on the building above. Venom formed off your shoulder, their head with white eyes and a mouthful of razor sharp teeth complimented well by the black ink of their exterior. And their head stretched off your shoulder by several tendons and tendrils still attached to your body.
You met his blank, milky white stare as he spoke.
“He will return. Whether he wishes to talk or— something more.. what will you do?”
“I made my feelings clear, if he returns. If I see him in my universe again. We. Kill. him.”
You watched as Venom’s grin grew exponentially at your sinister promise. The ominous threat on Miguel’s life exciting him after all the years of trauma and pain he had inflicted upon their host Venom wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth in and never let go.
And if granted the opportunity he would seize it with little to zero hesitation.
Every Spider-Man needs a nemesis, no emotionally richer story than having that nemesis be your own daughter.
“You are sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“You’ve grown cold. Sinister.”
“I am what he made me.”
a/n: I’m a little stoned and had this abrupt idea— 🫢 this is weak and maybe a lil’ cringe.. I know that, I’ll make it legit when I’m not baked 😐👍🏽
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heartpascal · 10 months
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or is it loneliness?
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▹— (eventual) spiderverse found family x platonic!reader
▹— summary: you need closure, and information. two visits kind of give you that.
▹— a/n: guys idk what im DOING. i have things planned for atsv but not how we’re gonna get there … rn im just yolo-ing. im not a big fan of this one but im gonna start writing the next one asap, which will hide fully be more found family-ish lmao arachnid is gonna start warming up to them all some day i swear
▹— warnings: angst, injuries, not good thoughts, dead parents, sensory issues, explosions, violence, fighting, blood?, damaged hearing for a good minute, peter b parker eating burgers deserves its own warning, food, mention of throwing up / nausea, insecurities about being good enough, refusing help, idk what else, if ive missed anything let me know!!!
▹— taglist: @rhymingtree (everything taglist) @justmare @uniquemonstrosity @lacunaanonymoused @erensbbg @dulceteris @noxxing @escherichiacolli @ray-rook @i-3at-kidz @miwagila @stoneforests (is it freedom’verse) — also i only tagged those who explicitly asked to be tagged!
MASTERLIST , part one
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
You spend a long time sat on the edge of the open window, staring out at the traffic below after getting back from Spider Society HQ. There’s a tangible relief that comes with returning to your dimension, like a weight being removed, a tension that is finally released from where it had been pulled taut. Your shoulders feel just as heavy as they did when you left, but you try not to think about it. You try to be happy that you’re back.
While you wouldn’t say it aloud, and you hate to even have the thought, you don’t think anybody had noticed you were gone. But then again, who would? You have no reason to be so upset about such a thing.
Time slips by as you diligently sew up the tears in your suit, frowning as you hold it up once you’re finished. It looks nothing like it used to, but then again, neither do you. Things have changed, it only makes sense that your suit would, too. You wonder if travelling through alternate dimensions can alter your perception of things. You’d swear that your suit had been a different shade before you left, lighter, maybe, but you have nothing to compare it to.
At least now, this time, when you put on your suit there is evidence of damage that Gwen Stacy had caused. The stitching along your the material where she had tore into you is a tangible thing, physical, and you run your fingers across it as if it might disappear. It’s almost a relief, to be able to feel where she had caused you pain, as opposed to the invisible ache she had left within you after fighting her the first time around.
Alongside the scar raised on your body, the fight with Gwen had left you with a sort of paranoia. An uncertainty in the back of your mind that has you glancing over your shoulder, has you messing up simple manoeuvres as you panic, thinking you hear her voice.
It must have been your third day back from the HQ that you come to the conclusion that you have to visit Gwen Stacy in her prison.
The decision doesn’t come easily. It comes slowly, torturously so, a realisation that deafens you as you glare through squinted lenses at the city around you. You won’t be able to go on like this, getting yourself hurt in stupid ways all because you’re not certain that she’s back in her prison. You’re meant to be a hero, which means that messing up, despite whatever paranoia that lingers in the back of your head, is unacceptable. It has consequences.
Seeing her in the flesh will likely be the hardest thing you’ll ever do. Except, maybe, not killing her when you caught her in that other dimension. You keep your mind on the fact that she won’t be able to touch you, that she’ll be walled away, to reassure yourself that there is no risk of either of you hurting the other — at least, physically.
But seeing her isn’t the only difficult part.
No, the hardest part is stepping back into an identity that you had lost your grasp on, long ago. You wear your old clothes, clothes that you hadn’t put on in months, and try to remember how it felt to be you, rather than Arachnid.
“Hi, Mrs. Stacy.” You say, when the door to an all too familiar apartment opens just a slither, and you catch sight of her wrinkled eyes. There’s a noticeable change to them when she realises who you are, and she’s slamming the door shut, undoing the chain, and reopening it before you can say another word.
She whispers your name like she can’t believe it’s you — and you can’t blame her.
You had disappeared, months ago, after the death of your father. Going missing was far easier than being placed in a foster system that would only hold you back. It had been so much easier, not having to face anyone, not having to speak at his funeral.
“Hi.” You repeat, when her stare lingers in the silence for far too long. The sound of your voice once again breaks her out of her trance, and she’s rushing forward to pull you into her arms as if you were her child. You suppose, in some ways, it was quite a lot like that. At the very least, your presence will remind her of the daughter she had lost.
“Where have you been? Oh, honey, I was so worried.” Mrs. Stacy says, her voice trembling by your ear as she squeezes you tight, unfazed by your lack of reciprocation. “Come inside, please.”
You follow her through the doorway, closing the door behind you as you had done so many times before. Not looking around at the apartment is near impossible, but you’re not sure how much familiarity you can take. Even just seeing Mrs. Stacey’s aged face makes your chest ache, your legs feeling shaky.
“Sit down, honey, let me get you a warm drink.” She says, a tremor to her voice as she bustles towards the kitchen which is adjoined to the living room. The news plays on the television, and you’re glad to hear a weather report, rather than some city-wide attack. Mrs. Stacy is quiet as she goes through the process of making your favourite drink, but with your enhanced hearing you listen to the telltale clink of a spoon against ceramic. You listen closely to her hitched breathing as her footsteps pad back into the room. “Here.” She hands you the warm mug, and you don’t comment on the way her hand shakes.
“Thank you.” You say, though it feels stilted, wrong, too formal. It’s hard to be normal in this setting, to be whoever you used to be, especially as she stares at you like she’s seen a ghost.
Mrs. Stacy stares at you for a long while before she speaks again, as if she’s still not sure that you’re real. “Where have you been? After—After your dad… we didn’t know what happened to you. Are you safe? Do you need help?” She asks, frantic once she’s gotten started on her questions.
“Mrs. Stacy, I’m fine, really.” You lie, smiling tightly over the rim of the mug as you hold it towards your face. Before, you would’ve burnt your tongue drinking it too fast, but you’re hesitant to drink it at all. The last thing you want is to become too familiar to your old life. “I’ve been staying with some friends, downtown. It’s been good.”
She raises a brow at you, and stares for a moment longer. “Honey… you don’t look well.” She tells you, and raises the back of her hand to press it against your forehead. Her frown only deepens when you flinch away from the touch. You try not to curse yourself too much, but can’t help reprimanding the way you hadn’t anticipated such an action.
The skin on your forehead is clammy, but that’s just the anxiety, the nerves at being back here. Arachnid can’t get sick.
“Listen, I… I was hoping I could ask a favour from you.” You say, hesitantly, gripping the warm mug tight between your hands, but loosen your fingertips against the ceramic when you hear a minute crack.
Mrs. Stacy furrows her brows, looking more concerned by the second, but nods. “Of course, anything.” She tells you, and places one of her hands against yours on the mug.
“I was hoping I could visit Gwen.” You voice, after one last moment of hesitation. The way her face immediately crumples at the request doesn’t give you much hope, especially as her hand withdraws from your own. “I—I know you don’t get to see her very often, and maybe it’s selfish, but… I don’t know. I wanted some kind of closure, I guess.” You ramble on in response to her silence, glaring down at the liquid still swirling in your mug.
“Honey,” Mrs. Stacy interrupts, her voice soft in contrast to the way yours was growing in volume. You quiet immediately, your gaze drawn up to where her tearful eyes stare at you, her expression almost mourning. “I would never deny you that, but you should know… I haven’t visited Gwenny since she was put in there.” She admits, her stare dropping to her lap, almost ashamed.
“Oh,” You voice, softly, in response. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed— I—I mean, I can’t even imagine—”
“No, don’t be silly, how would you have known?” She replies, raising her eyebrows at you strictly. “Now, I can get you that visit. I’ll call my attorney first thing tomorrow, but… really, honey, do you need me to call someone for you? Who are these friends?”
Her voice is familiar, and it’s kind, which makes it all the more painful. It’s strange, seeing the resemblance between her and the Green Goblin, and it makes a part of you ache. Your life wasn’t the only one torn apart by Gwen. In fact, her mother probably faced the worst of it. With her husband being long gone, her oldest son away at college, youngest withdrawn after her daughter became a homicidal maniac, who did she really have left? Who was looking after Helen Stacy?
You smile at her, as best as you can without tearing up, and reach out to grasp her hand, which she readily accepts. “I’m okay, Mrs. Stacy, I… It’s just a few friends of my dad, from his home town. Their kids, too. It’s better than being put in the system.” You tell her, and can only hope that she believes you. You have no way to back up these lies, knowing those friends of your father don’t exist.
“You could’ve stayed here, you know?” She says, teary and squeezing your hand so tightly you can hear your bones creaking. You smile sadly at her.
“You’re a much stronger person than me, Mrs. Stacy. I couldn’t even face my dad’s funeral, let alone be around the memories of somebody I lost. This place, it—it reminds me of her.” You explain, voice shaking as you hold back your own tears, swallowing them down and trying to breathe through the ache in your throat.
The way her heart breaks is almost loud enough for you to hear it, but she nods her head understandingly, regardless. “Of course,” She says, nodding still, “But know you always have a place here, okay?”
“Okay.” You respond, heart clenching so tightly you’re not sure it can pump your blood any longer.
“Now, what’s your number? Your old phone was disconnected.” She says, shaking her tears away to pull out a pad and pen from the coffee table. She sets the notepad against her knee, looking expectantly toward you.
“Oh, right,” You stutter, teeth chattering as you comb your mind for the number of your burner phone. “There was a mixup, because it was in my dad’s name.” You explain needlessly, still searching your mind for the answer. Finally, you remember it. You listen to her ballpoint pen scrape along the paper as she writes the numbers as you say them, and then she clicks the pen off after writing your name beside it, underlining it twice.
“How about I give you a call with the details of your visit, okay, honey?” She asks, nodding with a pleased hum at your affirmative. “Good. Stay for dinner, okay? I’ve missed you.”
Who are you to deny her that?
Though, even as you try to pretend that you help to set up the table for her benefit, and as you hug Gwen’s little brother tightly when he comes home for his, you know, deep down, that it’s for you. That this is a moment of selfishness that you’ll let yourself have, because god, you deserve it, don’t you?
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
It’s thirteen days post Spider Society discovery, and you’re starting to regret the way you discarded that watch so carelessly. Not because you want to be a part of some cult of superheroes, but because you wish you had asked some more questions.
Surely Miguel O’Hara must’ve known a way to stop these villains from appearing in other universes? And if he did, had he already implemented whatever it was to stop Gwen escaping again? How exactly did she escape the first time? Was it a coincidence? Is there somebody out there, working behind the scenes, helping her get out?
You, unfortunately, have no way to answer any of the burning questions nagging at the back of your head. While a part of you hopes that you never see any of the Spider Society weirdos again, you also desperately want answers. Especially if it meant you could call off your visit to Gwen Stacy.
But the day arrives as any other does, and you spend every moment before the drive over to the prison desperately hoping that one of the Spider-people will show their face. None of them do, and you’re left to get into Mrs. Stacy’s car and simply brace for the journey ahead.
You’re pretty sure that swinging would be quicker, or easier, but you had no way to explain that way of transport to an interrogating Mrs. Stacy, and so you had to relent to her insistence on driving you. Now, you sit here, shifting in the seat of the car, uncomfortable without your suit underneath the clothes you used to wear on a daily basis. Even the knowledge that it’s stuffed into the bottom of your tattered backpack in the boot of Mrs. Stacy’s car doesn’t bring you any comfort.
Instead, the rough material of an old jacket has your skin crawling like you were being bitten by a thousand mosquitos, and the trousers on your legs itch like you’re allergic to them.
You suppose, really, that the spider bite that gave you so many powers had to have more drawbacks than just destroying your life. It only makes sense that your heightened senses would extend to the receptors on your skin. It makes every movement in these clothes torturous, and you wonder if it had always been this way, or if you were just so unused to wearing your old style of clothes. Either way, you hope that you won’t have to wear them for much longer.
If it all goes to plan, you should be in and out of the prison, just ensuring that Gwen Stacy is actually in the cell as she’s supposed to be. Then you just have to endure the fifty minute drive back to the city with Mrs. Stacy, and you’re free. You won’t have to wear these clothes again, won’t have to use your name, no — you can just sink back into the half life that is being Arachnid. It’s better that way.
“Okay, honey, here we are.” Mrs. Stacy says at last, having shifted her car into park. She pointedly avoids looking at the looming high-security prison ahead, instead focusing on you as you wipe your sweaty palms against your trousers. “Now you take as much time as you need in there, alright? I’ll be just out here, if you need me.”
You smile tightly at her, nodding with what you hope is more of a grateful expression rather than a grimace. “Thank you, Mrs. Stacy, really. I appreciate it, more than you know.”
That much was true — after all, it wasn’t like you could tell her that she was allowing the vivid paranoia you had been experiencing to be put to rest after her daughter escaped to another universe. Mrs. Stacy, from what you could gather, didn’t even know that Gwen had been missing for any amount of time. She had no idea what Gwen had done, how many more people she had hurt, but you assured yourself that it was better that way. Mrs. Stacy already had to deal with plenty, and that knowledge surely wouldn’t help.
She was already dealing with her own grief and feelings on the situation, as well as trying to support her two sons in the matter. Given what Gwen’s little brother had asked of you when he found out about you visiting her, you knew that he hadn’t been to visit Gwen, either. It seemed that he wasn’t coping with it all very well.
“Of course, you’re family. You should know that by now.” She says, smiling with teary eyes, reaching across the console to grasp your hand tightly in her own.
Her words take a stab at your chest, especially considering what had happened to everybody else who had seen you as family. Dead parents, villainous best friend — it really didn’t bode well for your loved ones. You just reassured yourself with the fact that you’d be able to disappear as soon as the two of you returned to the city. You couldn’t put her in any danger, that way, or her remaining kids.
“I’ll—I’ll see you after, okay?” You respond, squeezing her hand in return before quickly letting go and throwing open the car door, getting out and catching a slither of Mrs. Stacy’s surprised reply before you shut the car door.
There are guards waiting for you at the gates, checking you are who you say you are, scanning you for weapons before you even get in the building. They’re satisfied after their searches, content that you weren’t stupid enough to bring a weapon into a highly secure prison. You keep your focus on your breathing as they walk you in, handing you clothes to change into as well as a box to put all of your belongings in.
The scrub-like clothes they give you are even worse than your own, sending shivers up and down your spine at the feeling of each fibre scraping against your skin. You just try to breathe through it. Luckily, the rest of the security checks blur by, which means less time spent on agonising over this visit. You barely hear a word of the statement they read to you before you go in, and your hand cramps as you write your signature against a dotted line of a waiver. All of the other legal things were sorted out by Mrs. Stacy’s lawyer, which you are more than thankful for.
Instead of having to deal with that, you just have to wait.
You think that the waiting might be the worst part of it all. With the scrubs making your hairs raise and promoting uncomfortable shivers up and down your body, as well as the cold metal seat that they sat you on, you’re far too aware of everything around you. You can hear the hundreds of heartbeats in the buildings, the beeping of security doors, the footsteps heading your way. You can smell the coffee that the head guard in the adjoining room to the one you’re in is drinking, as well as the day-old sandwich in his desk. Worst of all is the way your own heartbeat is thrumming in your throat, padding harshly against your chest, so loud in your own ears that it slowly starts to drown out everything around you.
Gwen’s footsteps are heavy, accompanied by the clinking of the chains she’s shackled in. You can practically hear the maniacal laughter that had come from her whilst in that alternate dimension, even though she’s completely silent as she enters the room.
She smiles at you when you look up, and for a moment you’re fooled — it’s soft, gentle, kind. But then you see the glimmer in her eyes that was distinctly not Gwen, and you feel the scar along your side throbbing with phantom pain.
You smile tensely at the guards, who regard you with looks of gentle concern and caution, before they attach her chains to a link on the floor beside a chair three metres away from where you sit. They nod at you, which you return, and you watch as they go and take their positions beside the door before you move your eyes back to the elephant in the room — which is Gwen Stacy.
“So, you missed me?” She asks, baring her teeth in a grin that has too much teeth to be anything friendly. Gwen regards you closely as you stare at her, watch for any signs of flickering, any signs that this isn’t real. Her brows raise slowly, the longer you’re silent, but you’re in no hurry to talk. “No? Is that not it?”
“Sure, I miss you.” You respond after another stretch of silence, tilting your head to study her more closely. You don’t acknowledge the way that your voice shakes as you speak, the way it comes out in something closer to a croak before you swallow harshly against your dry throat. “Thought I’d come to check in.” You add, brows furrowing to make sure she gets your true meaning.
“Ah,” She voices, then laughs, shoulders shaking, chains clanking loudly against her metal chair. “I get it, now.”
Gwen doesn’t add anything else after that, even though you suspected that she may take this opportunity to loudly claim that you were Arachnid, outing your identity once and for all. Apparently, if she does want to out your identity, she doesn’t want to do it like this, as she stays silent until you speak.
You sit forward on your chair, ignoring the way the guards at the edges of the room shift uneasily at your movement. “Your mom arranged this for me, you know?” You say, eyebrow raised. She probably knows what you’re doing, or what you’re trying to do, but she doesn’t voice it. Instead, she just shifts to lean backwards in her own chair, sighing as if relaxing.
“Hmm, so she can visit.” Gwen says, nodding her head as if it’s all making sense now.
“She can, she just doesn’t want to. Neither does Georgie.” You respond, and find satisfaction in the way her eyes flash at the mention of her little brother, the nickname that the two of you both used to call him. She recovers quickly, but you can tell that she knows it wasn’t quick enough. The Green Goblin cracked, right in front of your very eyes. It’s proof that, if anything, her little brother has some meaning. “He wanted me to tell you something.”
Her head tilts across from you, though she doesn’t move from her laid back position.
You clear your throat, and look at the words you’d written on your skin. She tilts her head forwards the slightest amount, and you shift uncomfortably in your seat, glancing at the guards who look just as uncomfortable as you feel. “He said that he misses his Gwenny, but he doesn’t want you coming home.” You stare at her as you repeat his message, the one he had told you nervously, as if he was truly afraid that Gwen would escape and come back. Her eyes twitch as she focuses on keeping her expression cool, but you know that the words have hit something in her, even if it’s part of the Green Goblin. “Looks like you even ruined your own family.”
You’re up on your feet as she lurches forwards, flung backward from where she tried to go against her chains to rush toward you. The guards are in front of you in mere moments, but you weren’t in any danger. Not as long as she stayed in here.
It’s almost satisfying, to see her chained up. It’s so different to seeing the Green Goblin on the outside, where she could be your Gwen Stacy. Whereas in here, bound by chains of heavy metal, clothed in uncomfortable looking prisoner scrubs, she was nothing but the Green Goblin. It was reassuring, almost, to be able to pick apart something physical between the two.
She bares her teeth at you, animalistic in a way that Gwen never was, and glares at you as you follow one of the guards out of the room, the others closing in on her, ready to take her back to whatever cell she came from.
The clothes you wear become less overbearing as you keep your focus on the guards taking Gwen away the whole way back through security, only switching back to your surroundings when they hand you the tray of your own belongings to change back into. You’re relieved for many reasons, and you try to focus on that feeling as you approach Mrs. Stacy’s car rather than the way your jacket itches.
Mrs. Stacy looks as if she wants to speak as you get in the car, as if she wants to ask about your visit, but she seemingly can’t bring herself to do it. You keep your mouth shut.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
Not a month later, your daily activities are back to normal, uninhibited by the daunting idea of Gwen being free. Still, though, you think about her more often, as much as you did in the time after she was put away the first time.
Mrs. Stacy had tried to call you more than once since, and at the two week mark you’d had to invest in a new burner phone. You just couldn’t risk anybody getting a hold of it and seeing her contact, or the ringer going off and exposing your position in a fight. No, it was better for her not to have your number. Besides, you had hers memorised if you needed to call her.
It was better if you tried to reduce any connections to Gwen Stacy. You’d be much better off, the less you thought about her.
Despite knowing that, you couldn’t help it. And despite seeing that crack in the Green Goblin exterior at her little brother’s words, you didn’t have much hope for her. You don’t think they’d let her out of prison even if you could find a cure, somehow. The fact of it was that Gwen Stacy’s life was over. She had no hope of a future in this world, the Goblin had destroyed that. All you could do was remember her and hope beyond anything that in one of those alternate dimensions, you and Gwen were happy together.
The thought of it played on your mind every day, a lingering pain that stung at your eyes. You thought about it so much that you had even imagined the world where Gwen had never become the Goblin, where you and your Gwen were happy. It was a suffocating image, one without any hope of being true, but you couldn’t help thinking about it.
Even as you fought villain after villain, petty criminal after petty criminal, you thought about it. Even now, as you were swinging around a bridge, dodging all the debris this villain was throwing your way, it played on your mind.
It was a distraction, and it was one you needed to get rid of.
That much became certain as the villain you were facing, Tombstone, managed to get a hit on you, sending you flying across the bridge. You landed on a car with a groan, the windshield cracking below you, and you rolled your eyes as the person in the car held a hand on their horn until you managed to climb off, a distinct Arachnid-shaped dent left in the bonnet.
Well, that would be aching tomorrow, that much was for sure.
He grinned where he was stood across the bridge from you, showing off his filed teeth, as if trying to intimidate you with the pointy edges of them.
“You’ve been a formidable foe, Arachnid,” Tombstone says, his voice barely a whisper above the wind, but you can hear him perfectly. You suspect he knows as much, and that only makes you nervous. “But I think it’s time for our battle to come to an end.”
“I actually agree.” You respond, stretching your aching back and feeling a bone shift when it definitely shouldn’t. You can’t help but wince, gritting your teeth and glaring over at Tombstone across the bridge.
You’re getting tired of these villains, of their constant spiel about how the world should be, about how everything should be how they wanted it to be. What was so wrong with the human population that everybody couldn’t just get along? Surely, if everybody got along, listened to each other, the world’s problems would be solved. But then again, this is New York, and it’s a city in which greed is bred.
A light press against your webshooter has you slinging high up on the bridge, staring down at Tombstone as he watches you intently. You’re planning your next move, considering all the variables, when a burst of orange manifests into the air behind him. He looks confused as you falter in your web slinging, dropping slightly before you catch yourself, and he turns around just in time to receive a curled fist to the face, courtesy of a familiar man in a red and blue suit.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” You murmur, lowering yourself to the bridge to approach this Spiderman, glaring at where Tombstone stands, straining against a red barrier that had materialised from the device Spiderman had placed at his feet.
“I hate that guy!” The familiar voice of Peter B. Parker says, shaking his fist as he hops slightly from one foot to the other, his lenses squinted before he finally turns to acknowledge you. “That guy sucks.”
Your brows are furrowed, eyes squinted behind your lenses as you stare at Peter, confused. This Tombstone guy isn’t an anomaly, is he? While you hadn’t faced him before, you knew that there had been a battle between him and another vigilante down in Hell’s Kitchen. And he knew your name, hadn’t been calling you Spiderman like the last anomaly. So why was he here?
Peter sighed, as if he was disappointed to be met with your confusion. “You got a place, kid? Or a burger joint, maybe?”
With that same amount of confusion, you nodded, brows furrowed as cops came to collect Tombstone, who was still in a fit of rage. You can just barely hear him swearing to get you back, both of you, through the barrier. Peter gestured a hand forwards for you to lead the way, and with slight hesitation, you swung off with him following.
Now, the two of you are sat in a Shake Shack, despite you wanting to head back to the offices you were set up in. Peter had ordered two burgers, one for you and one for him, though you had decidedly rejected the one he pushed towards you. He had only shrugged, and accepted it onto his own plate.
“My wife’s pregnant, can’t even stand the smell of these.” Peter groans, stuffing what must’ve been at least a quarter of the burger in his mouth. You just nod at his statement, though you had to admit you were slightly surprised that this guy was going to be a dad. But then again, you’re pretty sure you can remember your dad scoffing down his favourite food in a similar way. “Now listen,” He continues, speaking with his mouthful and paying you no mind as you cringe at the sound. “Miguel wants to strike a sort of… deal with you.”
“Okay?” You respond, brows furrowed. You look around the place, uncomfortable with all the people staring at Arachnid in a booth beside an old man stuffing his face. The lenses of your mask squint with you as you look at Peter, waiting for him to add anything on to explain his statement. “Then why’d he send you?” You ask, at last, when Peter makes no move to speak of his own free will, too engrossed in his second burger.
Peter held up a finger, gulping down a sip of his strawberry milkshake. “Said something about this being good practice for me,” Peter eventually answers, flashing you a smile. “You know, being a new dad and all.”
He seems to realise quickly that that was the wrong thing to say as your eyes narrow further, visible only through the shift of your lenses. The last thing you need is some random guy trying to father you. Even just the idea of it irritates you, makes the very blood rushing in your veins feel hot with anger. You had a dad, and look what good that did you. He’s gone.
Not to mention the implication of you being a child! You’re far from being a kid. You’ve been looking after yourself for some time now just fine. Whatever deal Miguel wants to strike with you is because they need you. Not the other way around. You knew that you shouldn’t have let that Spider-doctor fix you up.
“I’m not some kid. I don’t need you lot, you need me. Don’t get it all twisted, Peter.” You respond as he continues to look like a deer in headlights, clearly kicking himself for revealing what Miguel had said. You keep your voice low, fighting to stay unheard with the quietened air in the diner. “Now hurry up and tell me about whatever bullshit deal you want to strike with me, so I can say no and we can go our separate ways.”
“Kid,” Peter sighs, before immediately wincing as he realised he just directly disregarded your statement about not being a kid. “Sorry, Arachnid,” He corrects, settling his hands on the table in front of him, finally taking a break from his almost-finished food. “Nobody’s saying you can’t do this.”
“Sounds like that’s exactly what you’re saying.” You mutter, averting your eyes from Peter and instead narrowing your lenses at the people still staring in your direction.
“All we’re saying is that you shouldn’t have to do this alone,” He continues, ignoring your interruption with nothing but a quirked brow. “It’s a tough job. Everybody needs someone to look out for them, you know? It’s in our nature to feel responsible for everything around us, as Spider-people. But you can’t carry the whole weight of the world on your shoulders, it’s too much!”
You stare blankly at him, remaining unimpressed with his whole speech.
Peter sighs once more, looking at you with hesitant hope that you’ll come around. Unfortunately, you’re not about to let these people think that you’re incapable. If anything, Peter’s little speech was just adding fuel to your fire. You liked proving people wrong — it’s what you thrived on. You needed to prove them wrong. Because if you didn’t, what did that make you? You couldn’t let people be right about their assumptions of you. If you couldn’t prove everybody wrong, then that meant some of the things people said about you were right. And with the amount of people who accused you of being responsible for more deaths than you saved, who portrayed you as a menace rather than a vigilante, who said you weren’t worthy of your powers, who said whatever divine intervention had given them to you was wrong, you couldn’t let them be right. You wouldn’t.
“I already told you people. I’m not interested.” You spit out at him, feeling your frustration brimming over the edge. Why would nobody just trust you? Was that so much to ask? You understand that you had made mistakes, that you had cost people their lives, but you were trying. Why couldn’t that just be enough?
Peter says nothing as you slide out of the booth, stomping your way out of the Shake Shack as if you were some kind of grumpy teenager. He could only hope that his unborn child was a less grumpy teen, but then again, he was pretty sure you had every right to be miserable. Correcting himself, he could only hope that his unborn child never experienced your reasons for being so miserable.
You make your way towards your office building, swinging through the streets whilst doing your best to keep your heightened hearing down. You really didn’t want to have to deal with anything else, tonight. All you wanted was to get back, to put on the only clothes other than your suit that didn’t make you want to crawl out of your skin. Even if it was just for an hour, you’d take it.
While you had gotten used to how quiet it was in the building a long time ago, you couldn’t help but think that tonight, it felt almost… eerie. There was something tingling, buzzing at the very base of your skull, but even as you strained your hearing, your sight, everything, you couldn’t detect anything out of place. Everything seemed normal, so you couldn’t understand why you were so on edge! It couldn’t just be Peter’s presence, surely, because he posed no threat to you. So what was going on?
Picking up your backpack filled with belongings, you stared around at the empty office, the breeze that flowed through the open window sending a shiver down your spine, even though you weren’t feeling cold. Something wasn’t right. You just couldn’t figure out what it was.
“Hello? Anybody there?” You call out, straining your hearing once more, trying to listen out for even the slightest sound. A movement, a breath, anything, even as you couldn’t help but think that this was the most cliché horror movie like moment that you had experienced to date. Still, you heard nothing, but that nagging feeling didn’t dissipate, and you quickly lost all desire to change out of your suit.
The unease you felt only grew stronger as you stood there, unsure what to make of the feeling. It was quickly growing towards being overwhelming, but you didn’t know what to do.
Luckily for you, you didn’t have to make a decision.
Unfortunately, the decision was made by one of the very people you were trying to prove yourself to.
Peter B. Parker — or at least, you were pretty sure it was him — swung through the very same window you had, only to grasp a hold on your arm and pull you out of the window as he jumped straight back out of it.
Now, you had been Arachnid for a long time now. You had gotten used to the swinging, to the way your stomach dipped and your throat tightened, but you had never experienced it where you weren’t the one in control. Finally, you understand why people you brought to safety had, on occasion, thrown up immediately after you set them down on their feet again. The feeling of falling, of having no choice but to trust somebody else to catch you, it was terrifying.
But what was infinitely more terrifying was the way that the very floor of the building you had just been stood on exploded.
The blaze was blinding, even with your lenses protecting your eyes, but the noise that came moments later was much, much worse. And sure, you had been around explosions before, but never one that big, never so close. And never so unprepared for one.
Your ears were ringing, and you vaguely realised that you had become dead weight in your shock, with Peter struggling to keep his grasp on your arm firm. After a moment, you had the sense to grab his forearm in return, trying to assist him in holding you up. He didn’t seem as effected by the explosion in comparison to you, and you wondered if he’d had the time to put earbuds in his ears as you had sometimes done before a fight. Either way, you were insanely envious as the pain in your ears increased, leaving you struggling to focus on holding on to Peter.
When he set you down, which couldn’t have been more than a minute after he had grabbed you, considering you could still see the office building smouldering, you had to hold a hand over your mouth even over your mask, trying to rid yourself of nausea. Smoke was leaking into the darkening sky, and you saw the flash of sirens below, but heard nothing other than the distinctive ringing that felt like it was melting your brain.
Peter’s hand was squeezing your shoulder, and after a moment in which you didn’t acknowledge him, he was gripping your other shoulder with his spare hand, shaking you the slightest bit. You looked up at him with a groan, squinting past the floating lights in your vision to see that his mouth was moving, no sound coming out. You shook your head, trying to get rid of that incessant ringing, but it didn’t work. You dropped your chin to your chest again, hands bracing against your ears as if they could ease your pain, and you didn’t make a move as Peter removed one hand from your shoulder.
Mere moments later, the same tingling you had felt before the building you were in exploded returned, stronger, more intensely. Your head snapped up, frantically looking around, paying Peter no mind as he spoke into the orange-glowing watch on his wrist. You breathed through your nose, trying not to cough at the smoke permeating the air, and you just managed to push Peter over the edge of the roof of the building, with you diving after him, as another explosive went off.
That explosion was smaller than the last one, and the only reason you had managed to avoid it was because you knew it was coming. You knew what the alarm bells in your head were trying to tell you now, and you spotted the projectile just seconds before it reached your feet.
Part of you was glad that your senses were dulled from the first explosion — your hearing, especially, as it meant you were less effected by the close-range on this one. You saw Peter’s eyes widen as he looked up above you at where the explosion had just occurred. You just about managed to web him before shooting a web towards the next building, feeling something in your shoulder pull sharply with his extra weight and the suddenness of the move.
You squinted down at him as he gripped the web attached to his chest with one hand, his lips moving more frantically as he spoke to a hologram projected by the watch on his other hand.
“Shit, what is going on?” You asked, though mostly to yourself, but the only way you could tell you had even voiced the words was by the way they rumbled out of your throat. That explosion had messed up your hearing, for the moment, anyway, and you quickly realised that with your slow healing and the ringing in your ears, this fight was going to be majorly difficult.
You only had a moment to think that, before something snapped the web that was holding you to the building, sending both you and Peter falling through the air. Embarrassingly, you’re pretty sure that you let out a yell of some sort.
All the air was knocked out of you the next second as something hurtled into you, sending you careening towards the windows of the closest building. Peter, for a moment, had a shocked expression on his face, before he seemingly realised what was going on, smiling and letting out a string of words that you didn’t hear. You groaned as your sore back collided with the window, smashing upon your impact, and you were sent sprawling over a desk, a monitor breaking underneath your sudden weight.
Yet again, there was a hand against your shoulder, and you paid it no mind as your head dropped back, thudding against the desk. You couldn’t help but groan, the duress that your back had been under today was certainly taking its toll, leaving your whole spine throbbing with pain. On top of that, you were struggling to catch your breath, and with the sudden adrenaline provided by the spider-sense fading, the intensity of the pain in your ears was increasing.
Finally, you managed to peel your eyes open to see a concerned Peter B. Parker looking at you, with Miguel O’Hara stood beside the shattered window, staring out menacingly, as if daring whoever it was to attack again. Peter said something else, squeezing your shoulder, and all you could do in response was hold up one thumb.
Miguel seemingly barked out an order over his shoulder, and a moment later, you were squinting against the bright orange light of a portal.
Peter was hauling you to your feet, leaning to hold one of your arms over his shoulder, practically carrying your weight towards the portal looming ahead. “No, no, wait,” You said, and you felt the way your words slurred as you became slightly delirious with a mixture of pain, adrenaline, and desperation. “Stop, I gotta—”
He only shook his head, before tipping the two of you forward until you both fell into the portal.
The dizzying feeling of inter-dimensional travel definitely didn’t help the pounding in your temples, nor the nausea you had previously been feeling, and you had no choice but to try and focus on Peter’s grip on you as you squeezed your eyes shut. When the world finally stopped spinning, or feeling like it was falling away around you, you opened your eyes just enough to take note of where you were — which was back in the Infirmary of the Spider Society HQ.
You shook Peter off, standing on your own weight and waving him away when he tried to assist you as you swayed once more. You glared, eyes narrowed, and turned to head straight back through the portal you had come from, only to see it close before your very eyes.
The same Spider-Doctor from the last time you were here snapped a band around your wrist, and you squinted down at the red and blue band. It made you feel lighter, even slightly, which felt good on your aching bones and muscles. You opened your mouth to speak as the Spider-Doctor led you to sit down on an empty bed with white sheets, but you vaguely saw the way his mask shifted as he presumably spoke. You couldn’t tell what he was saying with his mask on, but a minute later, you felt a sharp prick against the inside of your elbow.
You just about had the lucidity to murmur “You fucker—” before you succumbed to the weight of your eyelids.
∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘
When you woke up, it was to a throbbing pain in your forehead, that only got worse when you tried to open your eyes. At the very least, you were glad to have your hearing returned to you, albeit slightly muffled, which you were only aware of because the sound of voices across the room was the reason for you waking.
“I’m just saying, maybe knocking the kid out wasn’t the greatest idea!” Peter B. Parker’s annoyingly loud voice says, slightly high pitched in the end. Who he was saying it to, however, you couldn’t say, not without opening your eyes. And that didn’t feel like a good idea, the lights even with your eyes closed feeling like too much.
Instead, you just groan, bringing your hand up to rest over both of your eyes. “It wasn’t a great idea.” You say through gritted teeth, more than annoyed over the situation you found yourself in. Honestly, what did these people have against leaving you be? Why did they think they had any right to tell you what to do, or how to handle things, or to overrule you when it came to your own treatment?
“Hey, kid!” Peter responds, drawing the letters out in that typical oh shit voice. From the snippet of the conversation you had caught, at least he was seemingly trying to advocate for your consciousness. However, that didn’t change the fact that he was there when that Spider-Doctor knocked you out. No, you were still pissed. And when you got your hands on that doctor? He was in for it.
Any other thoughts or feelings on the matter were overturned when you realised that your hand was resting over your eyes, not the lenses of your mask.
Who do these people think they are?
You open your mouth to jump into a rant on that exact subject, on the audacity that they all have, but find yourself silenced by somebody grabbing onto your free wrist, and seemingly dropping your mask into your hand. You feel it until you’ve got it the right way around, and then pull it over your face.
The lights are much more bearable with your lenses back over your eyes, but it’s still painful, and still worsens that pounding in your head. But it does mean that you can see who’s around you; Peter, Miguel and the Spider-Doctor. You have half the mind to leap at that doctor, but Miguel is raising placating hands in your direction before you can make the move to do so.
“Let’s all calm down.” Miguel says, placing his hands on his hips when your eyes only narrow at him.
“What is wrong with you? Who gave you people the right to—to take off my mask? To knock me out? Hell, to come to my universe and get in my business!” You practically yell out, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, ignoring the way your back hurts with the movement and glaring when the three of them step forward to help you.
“If Peter hadn’t gotten there when he did, you would’ve died.” Miguel responds plainly, seemingly aggravated by your irritation. One of his arms is raised in a gesture towards the man, who smiles almost guiltily, as if helping you was a crime. Which, in your mindset, it might as well have been. “There was an anomaly, a villain from another dimension targeting you.”
“I can handle myself.” You spit out, though the way the room spins when you stand is almost a direct contrast to your words. Your blood is rushing through your veins, and you realise that there’s a machine beeping next to you, increasing in frequency. As you look, you realise it’s measuring your heart rate, and you yank wires off of you that you hadn’t even noticed before, as if they were exposing you somehow. “And that doesn’t give you the right to take off my mask. Who does that?”
Spider-Doctor raises his hands, as if surrendering, though seems unintimidated by the way your glare switches to him. “It was necessary. Your hearing was severely damaged by the explosion, you needed treatment. You have dampening-buds in your ears now, while your healing catches up.” While that sounds reasonable, it only makes you angrier. Why did these people even care if some anomaly killed you? If your hearing was damaged? Why did they insist on bothering you?
Miguel sighs, pinching his nose, before he lifts his head up to speak to you again. You just about stop yourself from making a snotty comment about his attitude. You didn't even want to be here, and here he was, acting like dealing with you was such an inconvenience to him. It was frustrating. “Your universe seems to be at some sort of epicentre of anomalies, and we don’t know why. Yet.”
“We’re just trying to keep you safe. You can’t deal with all of those anomalies alone, nobody can. Sometimes, you need a team.” Peter says softly, like he could convince you of the matter. “Believe me, you don’t want to learn that the hard way.” He adds on, smiling almost hesitantly, as if there’s a memory he’s thinking of connected to his own words.
You’re sighing through your nose, your teeth gritting together as you regard them. “Okay, fine, you want to come take out your anomalies, or whatever? You do that. But anything more than that isn’t welcome.” You say, at last, your eyes narrowed towards them as you wait for their responses.
You still don’t really understand it, any of it, but it’s becoming clear that you have no choice but to deal with these people. Apparently, they were not budging on all of this stuff, which — fine, so long as they stay out of your way. The last thing you need is a bunch of Spider-people stepping on your toes, or making you seem incapable in front of the citizens of your own dimension when in the end, they’ll all up and leave.
After all, you can remember your mother telling you how important it is to do things yourself. The moment you start accepting help, you relax, and when they decide they don’t want to help you anymore? You’re screwed, your sense of independence reduced to ashes. And as Arachnid, there’s far too much at stake to risk that happening.
“Here,” Miguel says, only nodding his agreement — or at least, that’s what you assume the nod was for. He throws a watch towards you, and you catch it with some confusion. “In case you see any anomalies before we do.” He explains as he watches you fiddle witht he watch in both hands, glaring down at it as if it was offensive. He’s relatively satisfied when you relax at that explanation. While Miguel doesn’t voice what else it’s for, knowing you’d only get irritated and refuse the watch, he’s silently hoping that you’ll understand. It’s so you can come to them, if you need them. They can only hope that they’ll be able to tell you that, one day, before it’s too late, without the offer scaring you off.
“So, I’m good to go?” You ask, looking between the three Spider-Men still staring at you and the watch you hesitantly clasp around your wrist. They nod, or, Peter and Miguel do, while the Spider-Doctor throws his hands in the air, exasperated.
“That dimension is yours,” Peter says, leaning over to see the screen of your watch. “The button at the bottom will input this dimension as the destination. Just press that,” He points to another button, “To open the portal to whichever dimension has been typed in.”
You nod, still pissed that he’d let the Spider-Doctor knock you out, but at least you didn’t give him a snarky comment. Instead, you just pressed the button to go back to your own dimension, and stepped through the portal the moment it was big enough for you to go through.
You didn’t expect for him to follow you through.
“Hey, listen,” Peter says, almost reluctantly, as if he doesn’t want to upset you. When you turn to him, he raises his hands, as if to further prove that sentiment. “I am sorry that he knocked you out, I didn’t know he was going to do that.”
“Okay, fine, apology accepted.” You say, flatly, turning to survey where exactly you are. It doesn’t take you long to notice the remains of the building you had been camping out in, the building charred and the air still thick with all the smoke that had been produced.
“I wasn’t done,” Peter sighs, pinching at the bridge of his nose momentarily. “I also wanted to say that I’m sorry about your building. And I wanted to ask, well, mention about how when Doctor-Peter took off your mask, he noticed you don’t have anything protecting your ears, like other Spiders with your level of enhanced hearing do.”
You turn to stare blankly at him, while mulling through where exactly you’re going to stay in your head. If you’re being honest, you’re not paying his words much mind. So what, you don’t have anything protecting your hearing? Sure, sometimes you had stuffed earbuds into your ears when you knew you were going into a rough fight, but you didn’t know when some psycho exploded your building right in front of you. Plus, it’s not like you have unlimited resources to figure out some way of protected your ears under your mask while also letting you effectively use your hearing.
“Okay? And?” You ask, voice edging on the side of boredom. In all honesty, you just want to be left alone. You want to put on your comfy clothes, curl up into a ball and go to sleep so you can dream of a world where everything is okay. The likelihood of that happening is small, but not impossible, right?
“Well,” Peter hesitates then, which piques your interest the slightest bit. “Here, I had these made back when my hearing was crazy sensitive, but it’s not anymore, so I got no use for them!” He says, holding out two blue and red earbuds in a clear case. “You gotta wait until your ears are healed up to use ‘em, but I figured they’d do you more good than me.”
For a moment, you’re ready to deny him. To glare and insist that you don’t need his help. But then, he had said that they were originally for him, and he didn’t need them any longer, so really, would it be so bad to take them? To accept this one thing? To allow yourself to be saved of this tiniest bit of pain?
“You’re sure?” You ask, likely the least aggressive you’d spoken to him, though that’s not to say that it was asked softly. You were still firm on not accepting their help, on doing your own thing, but you could accept this much, surely? It couldn’t hurt.
Peter smiles, a short laugh leaving him, and he waves the box towards you. “I’m sure!”
“…Thanks.” You say, shortly, as you accept the earbuds offered to you. He also hands you the backpack that you had lost track of after the attack, and you accept that far more quickly. You’re glad that it feels the exact same weight as it did the last time you held it, before you shove the earbuds into the opening and zip it back up.
There’s a portal still open on the rooftop the two of you stand on, and Peter backs up to go towards it almost reluctantly. “Also, if you need somewhere to stay—”
“Don’t push it,” You respond, quickly, cutting him off before he could finish what he was saying. He doesn’t take offence to your abruptness, and smiles with a nod, before he disappears into the portal. You stare out at the city around you, looking in the direction of another building you had been very reluctant to return to. “What is my life?” You ask yourself, rhetorically, because you don’t know how you’d even answer that.
You glance behind you to ensure the portal is closed, before jumping off the rooftop, freefalling, relishing in the way the cold wind soothes the pain in your back. Before long, though, you have to shoot a web to catch yourself. You head towards the only place you know will be suitable for you, but can’t shake the way the thought of it chills you.
All you can do is hope that this multiverse stuff will be over with, and soon.
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mooooonnnzz · 10 months
Note
here me out, miguel w a daughter who adores mayday
Babysitting Mayday! // Miguel O’Hara x Daughter!Reader X Mayday Platonic
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✮ fem reader!
✮ teen reader WOOO
✮ reader is hesitant on looking after mayday at first but warms up
✮ i think thats all??
✮ SEND MORE IDEAS FOR DAD MIGUEL!!
✮ i got a lil carried away w the req 😭
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You scrolled through your phone absentmindedly, too caught up in the thoughts running wild in your head to realize the front door was open. You also failed to hear the loud clamor of Peter eagerly dashing down the hallway. What brought you out of your head was Peter’s frantic calls of your name. He waved his hand at you, smiling widely. Mayday, who was on the baby carrier that was wrapped around his chest, babbled cheerfully, clearly mocking her father’s giddy attitude.
“Peter, what are you doing here?” You turned off your phone and tossed it aside.
“I’m here to lend Mayday over to you!” The smile on his face grew impossibly larger. Mayday threw her cubby fists up in the air, kicking her feet back and forth as she let out a gurgled “Yeah!”
“Wait, what?”
Peter put his hands under Mayday’s armpits and lifted her up. “Yeah! Miguel told me that you’d love to take care of Mayday.” He placed Mayday on the couch, chuckling softly at her when she flopped forward onto the couch. She pushed herself up and shook her head, her rumpled ginger hair swayed along the action.
Peter set his hands on his waist and turned his attention over to you, his smile dropping at your aghast expression. “Did he tell you?”
“No! He didn’t tell me.” Your eyes trailed off to Miguel’s bedroom where he was peacefully sleeping, unaware of the situation that was unfolding in the living room.
“Oh…” Peter frowned, unclasping the baby carrier around his chest. “I’m sorry to dump her on you, kiddo.” Peter’s genuine empathy did lessen the annoyance of the whole thing. He looked truly upset for you. “I wish I could take her back but I already promised to take MJ out on a date.”
The mention of his date made you notice the crumpled black suit Peter was wearing. His suit was crinkled and untucked, and the white button up was pooling out of his jeans. His tie was loose and sweat stains were seen on his shirt. His hair which looked like it was styled properly before he came rushing over here became messy and unkempt. Peter toyed with the cuffs of his suit, flashing a charming smile at you. “How do I look?”
“Oh, uhm—!”
The loud trill of Peter’s phone saved you from the inevitable truth. He jumped at the sudden noise and fished his phone out of his back pocket, walking away from the living room and into the hallway to privately talk to who you assume is MJ.
You look over to Mayday and weakly smiled at her. “I’m stuck with you now, huh?” As if she understood you, she clapped her hands together, smiling back at you.
Peter comes back, placing a large bag filled with Mayday’s necessities and what not. He quickly informs you of Mayday’s schedule, what to feed her, when to change her, and other things you dreaded doing. He finished his rambling with a loving kiss on Mayday’s forehead and chaste goodbye with you.
The front door closed and you were officially alone with Mayday for the time being. You awkwardly looked over to Mayday, a small snort leaving your lips as she rolled back and forth on the couch. Though, your laugh was cut short when Mayday rolled too close to the edge. You let out a gasp as you reach out for her and catch her in your arms with ease.
“Jesus, Mayday. You almost hurt yourself!” You tell her, knowing she couldn’t fully understand you. Mayday only giggled in response and began clambering out of your hold. This is going to be a long night.
The loud joyful shrills of a little baby sounded in the house, disrupting Miguel from his nap. With a groan, he got up from the bed and slipped on the unicorn slippers you gifted him for Father’s Day. He let out a yawn and he sleepily shuffled out into the living room.
“What’s with all the noise?” He grumbles out, bleary eyes blinking harshly under the bright light.
His question was answered with little Mayday darting past him, giddily squealing as you chased her. Miguel rose a curious brow, watching you scoop Mayday into your arms. “I caught you!”
“Why is Mayday here?” He squinted at Mayday, letting out his signature sigh. He treaded his way into the kitchen to make himself his coffee.
Mayday crawled out of your arms and wrapped her legs around your neck, resting her little body on your head. You placed your hands on her tiny knees to root her in place as you walked over to Miguel.
“Apparently, you told Peter that I’d babysit her today.” You looked at him with such an accusing look that Miguel had to roll his eyes. “Oh, I did?” He put a pink princess cup under the coffee maker and watched with tired eyes how the cup filled up with his bitter coffee. He was using the coffee cup you gave him when you were little. Removing the cup out of the coffee maker, he took a quick sip before smirking at you.
“I don’t remember saying that.” His voice was a mix of amusement and sarcasm. To mask the growing shit-eating grin on his face, he brought the cup back to his lips and started drinking from it.
You gasp dramatically. “Yes, you do! You did this on purpose.”
“Don’t act like taking care of Mayday is so hard,” Miguel said, ruffling Mayday’s hair with his hand. “Isn’t that right, mamita? She’s just being dramatic, isn’t she?” Miguel spoke to Mayday in his baby voice. She babbled in response.
Miguel plopped down on the couch, sipping his coffee as he grabbed the remote. “I didn’t want to babysit her for another time so I told him that you’d babysit her,” Miguel says, surfing through the channels to find anything that piqued his interest.
Your eyes widen in realization. “Is that why you took a nap in the afternoon? So he wouldn’t see you?”Mayday’s hands gripped onto your hair, pulling and playing with it. “Ay! Mayday.” You grabbed her sides and removed her from your shoulders. Your fingers grazed her stomach, and squeals of laughter left her as you tickled her. Her hands let go of your hair in the process.
“Yeah,” He takes another sip of his coffee. “I told him I was busy with work.” A light chuckle escapes Miguel. “I don’t know why he believed me. I’m off on Saturdays.”
With Mayday in your hands, you decided to drop her on him for revenge. You dropped Mayday on his chest, her body tumbling down his chest and onto his thighs. “Careful with my coffee!” Miguel scolded, jerking the hand that held the coffee cup away from the destructive toddler.
“My bad.” You laugh, laying down on the sofa. Mayday notices you laying down and waddles her way over to you, flopping herself onto your stomach. You run your fingers through her hair, soothing Mayday to sleep.
“She’s so cute.” You whisper, smiling at Mayday who’s curled up into a ball on your stomach. “She reminds me of you when you were younger,” Miguel says softly, his heart warming at the sight of you and Mayday.
Your mouth drops open in shock. “I was not this crazy as a baby.” You couldn’t remember the last time you were able to sit down in peace ever since Mayday arrived. There was no way you were as energetic as her.
“Oh, you don’t remember, but I do.” He shakes his head in amusement. “You pooped and peed everywhere—“
“—Okay, okay! I don’t see the reason why you needed to mention me crapping and pissing everywhere.”
Miguel fights back a laugh as he shrugs. “But it’s true.” You scoff playfully, your eyes moving to the TV screen to watch whatever Miguel put on.
A comfortable silent blankets the three of you. As your eyelids begin to droop, your hand cards through Mayday’s hair one last time before you knock out. The stress of today finally catching up on you. Though, you couldn’t complain. Mayday was fun to have around. Maybe babysitting Mayday wasn’t so bad.
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shallyouobeyme · 7 months
Text
Spider
Miles Morales, Hobie, Pavitr, Gwen + (mentioned) Platonic!Yandere!Miguel x child!reader (GN)
Summary: Deciding to cause some Mayhem, Hobie, Miles, Gwen and Pavitr go looking through Miguel's office in his absence, only that what they find there, isn't quite what any of them expected. Who'd have thought Miguel was the type to have a secret Apartment...only that that might not be the worst thing in there...
TW: Kidnapping, dark!content, yandere, threat of violence (not towards reader), MDNI, I do not condone this behaviour, this is just fiction
Day 2 of my Yandere Writetober
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After Miles' official introduction into the Spidersociety, he’d loved spending his time there. Not only because he’d be able to hang out with Gwen, Hobie and Pavitr, but also because he felt like part of something bigger. He’d made up an after-school club to his parents and had somehow managed to keep the lie up to this day, which took a lot of studying and doing his best to actually attend class to make his parents trust him.
One afternoon the four spiders were hanging out when Hobie suggested doing something less boring, like breaking into Miguel’s office and checking out his hologram Programm. And while Miles and the others knew that there were some serious consequences if they’d get caught, the energy Hobie had was infectious and they soon found themselves sneaking through his door after making double-sure that Miguel and Jessica were on a mission.
The thrill of sneaking through his office, using his floating platform and the holographic floor to show each other nice or funny memories from their respective universes was just the thing four teenagers needed to have the time of their life’s.
About half an hour had passed and they were strewn around the room looking around. Hobie was probably dismembering and taking components from the different machinery, Gwen was trying to use the holographic floor to look at some classic concerts and Pavitr was playing around with the floating platform. Miles had taken to exploring the shelf’s in one of the corners of the room. Usually the room was so dark that you’d hardly be able to see them which is why
Miles had to use his phone's flashlight to see around. The shelves were filled with some gizmos and gadgets, some files strewn around, some boxes and blueprints. Nothing of particular interest to Miles, or at least nothing until his light hit a picture frame standing about where Miguel's eyes would be level with it.
Given that Miles was not quite as tall as Miguel, he had to rise to his tiptoes to even get an idea of what it depicted, he thought he recognized the image from the video Miguel had showed him when telling him about the dangers of ignoring canon events. It was a picture of his late daughter.
Miles had to swallow hard. He tended to forget what hardship Miguel went through because of how much of a douche he was to him. Something in Miles compelled him to take a closer look at the picture so he reached out to it and tried to take it, but instead of coming down from the shelf, he was only able to pull it slightly into his direction. Then there was a quiet but noticeable ‘click’ before the shelf with the picture on it opened a gap.
"Guys? Uhm, there’s something over here,” Miles called out to his friends who all ran over to him.
“What’s up?” Pavitr asked as he looked around, without seeing anything.
“Well, I think this shelf- let me just-“ he stuttered as he took a hold of the side of the shelf where the gap had opened and pulled.
“Whoa, a secret room? Cool,” Gwen mumbled in awe and slight confusion.
“I knew that bloke had somethin’ to hide, he ain’t right kosher, y’know,” Hobie shrugged and was the first to take off into the secret passage, the other three hot on his heels.
Miles wasn’t sure what he had expected to hide in the secret room, but he was sure it had been anything but what they found there.
Behind the shelf was what seemed to be a full apartment, with a nice open concept as Pavitr noted offhandedly, which in itself wasn’t so strange, after alle, maybe Miguel just liked his privacy.
Or at least that was what the four would have thought if it wasn’t for the plushies, toys, coloring books and other children’s stuff strewn throughout the different sections of the big room.
“Maybe Miggy over here is a bit more kinky then we gave ‘im credit for,” Hobie joked as he picked up a princess coloring book from the kitchen table and leafed through it.
“I don’t know, something about this seems weird, right guys?” Gwen looked around and received nods from Miles and Pavitr, “Maybe we should leave…”
Miles wanted to agree, wanted to get out of there and act like they’d never been there, but his stupid spider-senses had to start going off the charts right that second as he heard something from behind one of the three doors leading out of the room, the only door with more locks on it then on an average New Yorker apartment door.
“You guys feeling that?” Pavitr asked, confirming Miles’ fear that he wasn’t the only one whose senses were acting up.
Not bothering to answer, Hobie and Gwen were the first ones to go towards the door, quickly followed by the other two.
Hobie had already taken hold of the door on both sides ready to take it off its hinges when Gwen stopped him.
“If we break it, there’s no denying what we did anymore, maybe we should try this differently. These locks seemed to be electric, maybe we could overload them to reset them or something.”
Miles quickly realized that with ‘we’ Gwen meant him so he pushed himself to the front and got ready to electrify the locks.
A few seconds later there was a shrill beep and a click and with high anticipation, Miles took hold of the door handle and… It opened without problem.
With bated breath, he opened the door.
“Daddy?” a soft, quiet voice, doubtlessly that of a child, called out to them and all of them stood there like frozen as they stared towards the small kid sitting on a fuzzy blue rug surrounded by dolls and plushies. The child tilted their head, looking at them in confusion.
“Hi, are you friends with Daddy?” they asked, but none of them were in the mental state to answer them, all too shocked.
Suddenly a voice called out from speakers somewhere in the room.
“Y/N go into your room immediately please,” a voice - all of them recognized it as Lydia’s - said and after a slightly disappointed ‘okay Aunt Lyd’ from the child they left through a sliding door in the wall opposite of the four spiders which immediately closed (and probably locked) after them.
“Miguel has been informed of your intrusion, I’d advise you to take your leave immediately, and if you enjoy your heart beating I’d tell you not to mutter a word of this to anyone, now leave.”
With a heavy heart and many questions the four ran out of the secret apartment, making sure to close the shelf after them, before they disbanded and returned to their original universes. All of them couldn’t get the child out of their head, but especially Miles couldn’t help but feel he’d seen them before.
Only when he was lying in bed that evening mulling over the events of that day again did he remember.
Months ago his father had taken one of his files home with him, a missing persons report, a little child had disappeared right out of their childhood bedroom without any hint as to what or who had taken them.
In the upper corner of the report was a picture of a smiling toddler with an white area below where their name was…Y/N.
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batsvnte · 11 months
Text
𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 • 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚
Pairing(s): Miguel O’Hara
Warnings: spoilers for ATSV, cursing (both English and Spanish), ooc maybe, spelling mistakes
Notes: black fem!reader (she/her pronouns). All platonic throughout this. Also some bits of reader also speaking Spanish due to them learning from Miguel w/ translations at the end of this
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You snatch your mask off as your pace quickens into the control room that you were situated in. Huffing under your breath as you ignore every attempts of Miguel trying to get your attention. You didn’t have the time for this and neither did he. All you can do is keep walking away with little hopes that he’ll back off. Even if you’re currently walking on the ceiling just to get away from him.
“(Name)! Ven aquí ahora mismo!” Miguel’s voice echoed throughout the room. Well aware that his words were clearly heard, but you didn’t bother to listen. “Stop walking away from me!”
“Then stop following me.” Without using your webs you easily climb up onto another pillar to separate you from his sight.
Unfortunately he was quicker. You caught of glimpse of a bright red web enclosing around your wrist. Preventing you from advancing anywhere. You suddenly found yourself on the ground, thankfully landing on your feet. You stood up properly to see Miguel taking a few steps towards you. That stoic look that you always saw was nowhere to be found. It was a look of frustration that was all directed to you.
“What were you thinking? Going out there and to help Miles go back to Earth-1610— didn’t I tell you not to meddle in with other peoples business!?” It was unfamiliar to you to have Miguel scolding at you.
“He just wants to save his dad!” You were quick to defend yourself with the thoughts that has been plaguing your mind the moment you heard about it. “You never told me what was going on. You never do!”
“I’m doing what I can to keep everything under control, hija.”
‘Dont start with that’
“That mean keeping me in the dark while you go out fighting? What kind of good will that do, Miguel!?”
Miguel has narrowed eyes, the dark circles under his eyes darkening. Either from the lightening of the dimmed room or his attitude changing. “The kind of good that will keep the multiverse from shattering.”
A scowl itched onto your face as you nearly hissed at him. “Bullshit!”
In response he pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance. He loathed getting into arguments with you. Especially if it was about what he does. You could hear little snippets of him muttering incoherently in his native tongue. It was a few short moments before he raised his voice to his normal volume.
“Hija,”
‘Stop calling me that’
“You know how dangerous it is to disrupt cannon events. It happened to your own universe, (Name),” You nearly wince at the mention of that with recalling memories to that situation. “I’m not going to risk another one being destroyed.”
Your posture straightens as Miguel’s gaze focused back on you. “But none of us knows how it’ll effect Miles’s universe. It might not be the same thing as what happened—“
“Might not be?”
You pause at your own words being echoed back to you. You had your own morals to this situation and you didn’t want to back down now.
“It still won’t be as bad as what happened to my universe.” Your tone was lowered. You didn’t realize how loud you were before during this entire argument.
Miguel shakes his head. Remembering the events of what happened when you accidentally disrupted the cannon events. How he found you in the state that you were in at that time. He takes in another deep breath to calm himself down from continuing the shouting match between you two.
“There are still risks that he’s taking that you took as well. It’ll just be the same outcome,” Miguel says as he hopes that this was the end of the argument. “Ya sea que termine destruyendo todo un plano de existencia o afectando a la minoría.”
Your eyebrows furrow down into another scowl. “The first one risk was keeping him confined but look at where you are now.”
“I’m trying to keep the multi-verse safe!” Miguel was quick to snap back without any hesitation. “Trying to keep you of everyone safe after what happened! Your universe needs you safe, mi hija, I need you safe—“
“Llámame una maldita vez más!”
A deafening silence fell over the two of you. The familiar stoic look returned back onto his face. You were unable to keep your thoughts from forming into your mouth. Little part of you was surprised at how sudden you blurted it out. Though only Miguel can stare at you with an unreadable look. You didn’t know what he was going to do or say. It felt like it was going to go on for eternity.
“You’re staying here until I get back.”
Red fills your vision in a matter of seconds. Before you can fully react there was already a force field encasing you with little to no room to move around in. You banged at the shield as you watched Miguel turn his back to you.
���Miguel! You can’t do this! Let me go!” Your words fell deaf upon his ears as you kept your eyes on him. It felt like time was going to quickly as you watched his form becoming smaller from the distance.
Miguel didn’t bother to give you one last look as he left the room. Hearing the door shut behind him and covering your shouts for him to let you go. He kept his focus on what’s ahead of him. His mind instantly becoming centered on finding the one Spider-Man who was going to disrupt everything that he had worked so hard for. But there was one that he had forcibly pushed away.
‘I’m not about to risk loosing you again, (Name).’
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Lmao reader got put in timeout corner-
Trying to get back into writing after finishing exams and bring back my motivation until I run out of it again. Promise that there’s gonna be some more works soon from the requests slxosmd
1. ‘Ven aquí ahora mismo’ - ‘Come here right now!’
2. ‘(Mi) Hija’ — Kid / Daughter
3. ‘Ya sea que termine destruyendo todo un plano de existencia o afectando a la minoría’ — ‘Whether it ends up destroying an entire plane of existence or affecting the minority’
4. ‘Llámame una maldita vez más!’ — ‘Call me that one more damn time!’
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