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#☆bytes talking again!☆
rileywazhere335 · 1 month
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☆no one actually realizes the beauty of huge machinery. the loud buzzing purring engines, the slow clunky yet pretty movements, and the alluring attractive hypnotic look of them... <333☆
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hrokkall · 1 year
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grimora for the ask game !!
Favorite thing about them: I feel like this is cheating because it’s so niche but I love the skeleton hand that rings the bell in the Finale (honestly Grimora’s whole aesthetic in the finale is phenomenal but if I had to narrow it down to one detail it would be that). Also a very small detail but I like how in her idle animations her hands are always folded over her abdomen; reminds me of the way people are laid to rest in coffins and really cements her undead status for me.
Least favorite thing about them: I wish she had some/more lines talking about her subordinates. We really don’t get to know much about how she feels about them which is sad. (I’d say the whole “killing everyone” thing too but… I don’t completely blame her on that one—similar to the other Scrybes’ Batshit Machinations, I can see why she felt like she needed to do it. Not to mention she didn’t technically succeed so I’ll give her a pass (I say that jokingly but holy shit did it catch me off-guard in my first playthrough))
Favorite line: This bit in her boss fight. Absolutely insane mechanic (just killing all of your cards but instead of the PG “turn them into gold” she just casually hands you back their lifeless bodies. Also pretty good foreshadowing in hindsight).
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brOTP: I’ve seen a couple of works where Grimora has Royal as her right-hand man and they both get to be pirates together and you guys are absolutely correct. They should get to explore the high seas (or at very least I’d like to imagine Royal spins a lot of tales about his time when he was alive—a lot of which are pretty exaggerated—and she listens and makes sure to write them down regardless).
OTP: Her and any/all of the other Scrybes. She deserves better but the other three immortal shitheads she has to share an archipelago with will have to suffice. I’d say they’re all divorced but that’s probably putting it too simply. It’s more accurate to say they’re all fighting to see who’s the best at inventing a brand new type of complicated relationship. They’re all winning.
(I’ve also seen her paired off with the Woodcarver—not my thing personally, but I think it’s cute)
nOTP: Haven’t seen any Grimora ships that I don’t like honestly. But again I’m not super into shipping so that might be part of why this category has been blank the past couple of times—I’m not seeing many ships so there’s not any for me to report on.
Random headcanon: The dead can’t really “sleep” (and don’t really need to)—they just sort of “fall prone” into a state where they don’t really rest and don’t dream. As a result, a “sleeping” Grimora just looks like a corpse… more like a corpse than usual, anyway (she already rarely breathes and her heartbeat is so slow the event sometimes surprises her, but you know, completely lifeless). This would be disconcerting for the other Scrybes if not for her other far more concerning physiological traits. Like the first time she came to a meeting with her head in her hands—literally—and a needle and thread to sew it back on while the others talked. Not much got done that day.
Unpopular opinion: As much as I wish she did get more screentime I can see why that wasn’t really possible. Inscryption is already a pretty long game as-is, adding a whole card segment for Grimora—while it would be fun DLC—isn’t really feasible in the base game. Having said that, I do still wish we got to know a little more about her, even if it was just via some lines from her subordinates.
Song I associate with them: My knee-jerk is Necromancin Dancin by Bear Ghost just because it’s a batshit ridiculous villain song about the undead (she deserves to be a little more unhinged than how she gets portrayed by a lot of people; just look at the other Scrybes), but for something a little more fittingly melancholic I’d go for Grave Digger by Blues Sarcaceno or Dance While the Sky Crashes Down by Jason Webley.
Favorite picture of them: Please check out the official renders of her 3D model if you haven’t already seen them. She’s lovely. [Link]
Also a fan of this particular Stinkbug sprite (and the base sprite of course, but everyone knows what that one looks like).
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ecoamerica · 1 month
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Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc
The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!
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just made a pasta that fucked severely
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pixel1678 · 1 day
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What a weird dream, everything looked so weird, but I remember almost all of it... Why was that cat thing acting so psychotic? Why did it go on a frenzy constantly? Why did I morph myself to have thorns instead of avoiding the hits? How did I get those explosives?? Why did they look alive???
...why do I want to go back to the dream so badly? Why did I feel so... connected to those two?
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luveline · 11 months
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𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚
you comfort miguel when he lashes out after a memory —a ficlet featuring begrudgingly lovesick miguel and a flirty spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. requested here. fem!reader, 1.5k
cw implied ptsd and accidental rough handling
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Miguel can feel your heart-eyes on him. You're sitting behind him on the floor in his office, or, as you've fondly nick-named it this week, The Control Room, humming and making little origami flowers. 
So far you've made five, promising him without prompting a multi-coloured bouquet. He doesn't know why you've stopped (or why you started), but he doesn't have to turn around to confirm it. He can tell. You're shameless either way, proven when you say, "Hey, handsome?" 
He sighs with more annoyance than he feels. "What?"
"How'd you know I was talking to you?" you ask, with a laugh he loves and hates at once. Loves, because it's a really nice sound, and hates, because he knows how this goes. "I could've been talking to Margo." 
"She is handsome," Lyla chimes in. 
"Very much," you agree. 
Margo, alias Spider-Byte, looks up from her tablet screen to flash a smile. "Thanks, guys." 
"What did you want, then?" Miguel asks.
He's surrounded by girls who live to annoy him —they all laugh as though they know something he doesn't, and when he turns to glare at them they laugh more. Lyla zips out of his eyeline, disappearing from view with a sympathetic, "He's dumber than he looks." 
"Hurtful," Miguel says, turning back to his screen. "Why do I bother?" 
You stand up with your bundle of paper flowers crinkling in your hands and approach him. You're of normal height, while Miguel is of 'ridiculous' height (your word choice), and so you have trouble looking him in the eye when you stand close. You have more trouble keeping your distance, craning your neck all the way up with your rubber capped shoes to his spidersuit ones. 
"Can you lean down a bit, please?" you ask. 
Margo laughs, “Oh, here we go.”
Miguel has trouble saying no to you. And by trouble, he means he finds it impossible, and he hasn't done it in a while. He leans down very slightly, worried you're going to try and kiss him in front of the others. He's kissed you already (which he hates himself for, what a stupid thing to do) (but was a good kiss, as things go, your lips soft under his, his ardency undulating in the face of your little gasping sound when he'd bitten your lip, when he'd grasped at your side like you were slipping through his fingers), and you've kissed him. But never in front of other people.
Which isn't to say they don't know. Everyone definitely knows. They're just too scared or too kind to say. Or, like Lyla or Margo, they find it funny. 
Now in reach, you lift an origami flower to his ear and attempt to prop it there. He has a flash of a memory, a small hand by his face, the summer sun on his neck, and he can't deal with it. He grabs your wrist and pushes it away from him. 
Your eyes widen. You're not unused to his bad moods, but Miguel doesn't grab.
You look back, and he thinks it's because you're scared, and he wishes he could take it back straight away, but you're looking for Margo and Lyla. When you see they aren't there, you take his face into your empty hand and ask, "What's wrong?" 
Miguel doesn't answer. He doesn't know what to say. Sorry would be a good start, but his mouth is dry. He frowns down at you.
"I didn't mean to overstep," you say, uncharacteristically serious. 
"I didn't mean to grab you," he says. 
"I know. It wasn't so aggressive, anyways. I'm genetically enhanced, you know?" Your smile creases the delicate skin at the corners of your eyes. "I'll make you something else. A fan, for the heat, or a jumping frog." 
You turn and take a step away. Again, Miguel reaches for you, but when he takes your wrist this time it's with the kindness you deserve.
"I'm sorry, cariño," he says. 
He’s embarrassed for having pushed you away, even if he couldn’t control himself. All you were trying to do no doubt was make him happy. It's usually your main prerogative besides winding him up, and he can't find any ill will in a paper flower. 
"Cariño," you quote in a murmur. It doesn't take a second for you to return to your smiley, loving self. "That's definitely something nice." 
"It's affectionate." He doesn't explain more than that. 
You force your hand into his, twirling inward like a half-hearted dance. "I can tell," you say giddily, dropping your cheek into his chest. 
He rubs the back of your hand. Sorry, sorry, it says, each pass of his thumb against your skin. 
"Miguel," you say, in the lilting cadence of a girl with a favour to ask, "now you've ragged me around–" 
"Not what happened–" 
"–I was thinking maybe I could do something to you." You smile cheekily around your words. 
He sweeps his gaze across the office to make sure there's no one here with you both, or about to be. Complicated you may be, but Miguel knows you well. Better than he should. He spent a long time denying his feelings for you, aggrieved and guilty, and a longer amount of time resenting you for being so damned enchanting. Which wasn't your fault in reality —you're a weird creature, and you can be a little off-putting; it's Miguel's problem alone that he wants you as badly as he does. To feel your neat, teasing smirk under his lips. To have the line of your jaw against his hand as you whisper flirtation or laugh at your own awful jokes. 
To take your hip into his grasp and squeeze. 
There have been times where Miguel wanted to press you up against a wall and kiss you into silence, quieten your taunting teasing with a bite to match his bark. And there have been times where he wanted to rub the tense line between your shoulders, having caught you in a vulnerable moment, and promise that things will be better. 
He isn't making any more promises, not in this life, but he thinks that someone like you, who tries too hard to make people happy and sometimes wears two masks at once deserves to do whatever it is they want to do to people like him.
"Okay," he says quietly. His voice is rough as hewn stone. 
You have a pocket full of paper stars that crunch as you lean in. "I'm gonna kiss you, if you promise not not to freak out. Is that cool?" 
Okay, you deserve some softness, but Miguel would rather lead. Your hand falls to his chest, and his hands find your face. His fingers behind your ears, his thumbs aligned with your smile, he squeezes your cheeks in his hold gently, tilting your chin up, and up. The column of your throat is bared and begging to be scandalised. He can imagine it, the bruising his lips would leave behind like crescent moons and the pinprick crimson stars from his needling fangs if he were to only press down. 
"We'll compromise. I'll kiss you, and you'll let me apologise again." 
"I don't need you to say sorry again," you say softly. 
"Then I won't say it." 
The implication has heat rising to your cheeks. Your hand grabs uselessly at his suit as you close your eyes, and Miguel knows his cue. He leans down and kisses you, tender but a little rough, your lips soft and warm and eager as he encourages your head to one side. It feels like you try to say something but you don't move back, and so he doesn't either, kissing and kissing and kissing until he's sure he'll remember how it feel tonight, hours from now, when he's staring at a screen wishing you were haunting his office rather than in a doze in the girl's dormitory. 
"Miguel," you say, practically into his mouth. This time he pulls away, and you take a small step back so you don't have to crane your neck. "I, uh…" 
Miguel wipes the sheen from your bottom lip, not not listening but certainly not giving his full attention. He's hoping you'll let him kiss you again.
"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable with the flower," you say. 
His eyes lifted to yours. "It's not that. It's not you. Don't waste any time thinking about it, okay?" 
He pinches your chin between his forefinger and his thumb. You hold his eyes for a moment. 
"I don't really think," you say bashfully, wrapping your arms around his waist and giving him a hug he doesn't have time to reciprocate. 
"You think," he says, blinking as you retreat from him completely, waltzing back to your origami station on the floor. Your hips don't sway, but there's a movement to them he tracks. 
"About you, handsome? All the time." 
Miguel groans and turns back to his screens. Lyla appears silently, and sticks a finger into her mouth in a mock gag. 
"That's in poor taste," he says. 
"I would like to hand in my resignation." 
"You can't resign, Lyla. You're a hologram." 
She pushes her heart-shaped sunglasses up her nose and blinks out of view, refusing to speak to Miguel for the rest of the day outside of official Society business, and even then she's cranky. You fill the void of conversation with a mixture of nonsensical and merited suggestions, and by the time you leave for the night, his desk is decorated by a rainbow menagerie of paper animals, each one made with care. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed! please consider reblogging if you have the time! <;3 if you have a request of this pairing or other miguel fics and want to share, im eager to see them!
my other miguel fics
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messylustt · 11 months
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am on my knees for jealous/possessive!Hobie x reader? maybe he’s a lil mean at first but by the end he’s very soft 🥺 <3
god I have a weakness for possessive and clingy men— shit
JEALOUS BOY — hobie brown + reader: hobie is a little jealous over the new recruit and how nice you’re being with him.
marks jealous!hobie; kinda bad representation of his iconic accent; poor new peter :( cute lil kiss and confession. wc 1.7k.
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Hobie’s gaze was narrowed, the most focused he thinks he’s been, as he watches you speak with the new recruit. You’re smiling at something he’s said, as you then begin to laugh. Stop laughing. Not for him.
Hobie swiftly moves towards you both, swinging his arm over your shoulder as you turn your head. “Hey, babe.” He grins, seeing your small smile.
But you shrug him off, gesturing to the new recruit. “Peter, Hobie.” You gesture from Hobie. “Hobie, Peter.”
“So, another one ov’ ya.” Hobie eyes this new Peter, with a harder gaze.
“Oh, so this is Hobie?” New Peter says, making Hobie shift his gaze to you.
“Ya talked ‘bout me?” Hobie spares you a side smile, as he bumps your shoulder.
“I said like one thing.” You scoff, crossing your arms.
“Mhm, what?” Hobie felt a little calmer after hearing that he was mentioned in your conversation. You look away, shaking your head. “Aw…ya goin’ all shy now?” He fake pouts, poking your side.
You slightly jolt, shifting your gaze to him. “I only said how loud your guitar can be. And that Peter should be wary of it.” You say, walking closer to said Peter. “Come on, I’ll show you to Spider-byte, she’s knows a shit tonne bout this place…” your voice drifted off as you brought new Peter down the path.
Hobie’s smile had dropped when you began walking away from him. But he focuses on the fact that new Peter will be gone from your side once the walk around was over. He held onto that fact.
;;
Which turned into not a fact at all. Because when he knew that your little tour would be over he still saw new Peter by your side. Oh no, no. Hobie didn’t like that one bit. So he yet again finds himself by your side, snatching some food off your plate, as he fluidly swings one leg over the bench.
“So, I take it you two are friends?” New Peter asks, shifting his gaze between you and Hobie.
“Eh.” You shrug, to which Hobie grabs your wrist—which held the food you were gonna put in your mouth—as he brings it to his mouth instead. “Hey!” But he keeps your wrist close as his lip ring slightly brushes the tips of your fingers, eating the entire thing, as he leans back, raising his brows.
“Don’t say ‘eh’.” He imitates you, hooking his arm back around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him—his legs still spread over the bench, meaning that your side ended up right against his chest. He looks back to new Peter, making his arm over your body a clear statement to him. “Yeah, we’re friends.”
New Peter finally notices Hobie’s hard expression, as his smile slightly drops, but then you’re directing his attention back to you. “And he’s an annoying little British boy. Trust me.”
Hobie shifts his gaze back to you, grabbing your chin to look at him. “‘Lil Bri’ish boy’?” He quotes in disbelief.
“Annoying little British boy.” You correct, managing to slide back across the bench and out of his grasp. “So, make sure not to get caught up in his web.” You chuckle, as new Peter joins, looking back to you.
“Ya makin’ me sound like a spide—oh.” Hobie realises, giving you a look. “Ya real funny, babe.”
You give him a teasing smile, as you continue to eat, going back to your conversation with the new Peter. God, would you stop talking to him? It wasn’t required anymore, so why were you? Did you like him? Hobie hoped you didn’t plan to make a new friend. And certainly not make something more.
;;
It happened again. You were with him again. Hobie watched as you stood beside new Peter, talking again.
You were all there for a mission debrief. But that didn’t mean you had to stand so close. Hobie promptly reaches you, jaw clenched as he caught new Peter’s gaze. “New Peter, hey man. How’s ya first few days been?” Hobie’s words a sickly sweet, making new Peter gulp.
“His name’s just Peter.” You say, glancing at Hobie who stands right beside you. Hobie shifts his gaze to you, in slight disbelief. Oh, so you were defending him now.
“It’s okay, and I’m pretty good, thanks Hobes.” New Peter smiled, all innocent.
“Only she can call me that, mate.” Hobie states, gesturing to you, as he yet again eyes him with disdain.
“Hobie.” You quietly hiss. “Sorry, Peter. Clearly a rough day.” You glance at Hobie with narrowed eyes. He narrows his back. “What—ya switch names? He can call me ‘Hobie’, and you…” he gently tapped your shoulder. “…you can call me ‘hobes’.”
You sigh, grabbing Hobie’s arm, as you spare new peter a small smile. Hobie let’s you drag him away, as you spin, arms crossed.
“I told him it was fine. I’m sorry, I thought you wouldn’t have minded.” You say, glancing back at new Peter, but Hobie quickly brings your head back to face him. Stop looking at him—he thinks to himself.
“Why?”
“Oh come on, he’s new.” You say. “I thought he could use some friends. And you’ve always been very welcoming. You were with me.”
“Yeah, but you’re…you.” Hobie glances over at new Peter who does look a tad nervous as he listens to the debrief. “And come on…him?”
“Yes, him.” You say. “Where’d nice Hobie go?”
“He’s gone.” He says, looking back to you. “If ya keep takin’ to him, tha’ is.”
“Hobie what’s your problem with him?”
“Is it really that hard not talkin’ to him?” Hobie crosses his arms, raising his brow.
“Again…” you sigh. “What’s your problem?”
“No problem.” Hobie shrugs. “Just don’t talk to him. That simple.”
“You’re missing the reason there, Hobes.” You say, with a raise to your own brows.
He slightly smiles, a slight tilt to his head. “At least that means you’re not mad at me.”
“What? Yes I am.” You narrow your gaze, just as Hobie lazily swings his arms atop your shoulders, moving closer to do so as he leans towards your height.
“Nah. Ya called me ‘hobes’.” He’s grinning now.
You scoff. “I can say ‘hobes’ and still be mad at you. Also when were you ever so caught up on names?”
“When you started talking to Mr. Basic over there.” He glances at new Peter. You hit Hobie’s stomach, making him slightly double over.
“Stop being an ass.” You begin to walk back over to new Peter, but Hobie swiftly wraps his arms around your neck and shoulders, your back hitting his front, making you slightly jolt.
“Nah…” Hobie says to your ear, making a small shiver run down your spine. “You can stay with me this mission.”
“You’re not even in this mission.” You say, as his hands begins to fiddle with the material of your suit, arms still wrapped around you. “And when did you get so clingy?”
“Clingy?” Hobie scoffs. “I’m not being clingy.”
“Then why are you draped over me like some sort of koala?” You ask, reaching to pull him off you.
“What was tha’ thing ya said before?” Hobie keeps you close. “Trapped in my web?”
You lick your teeth in slight annoyance as he just smirks. “Just making it clear you’re trapped.”
“Ha you’re funny.” Your sarcasm is clear.
“I know I am. Now come on.” Hobie slides his hand down to yours, grabbing it and bringing you towards the new opened portal.
;;
“God he’s insufferable.” Hobie states. You had just finished your mission, and are both walking through the lobby.
“I really can’t find the reason why you’re so annoyed. It’s making me annoyed.” You say, brushing some dirt off your thigh.
Hobie looks down, moving your hand away so he can pick the rest off. You eye him. “Is this a dare or something?”
Hobie looks back up at you. “What?”
“Being this touchy and stuff.” You say. “I mean you’ve always been one to throw your arms round someone’s shoulders. But not all this.” You raise your brows, expecting an answer.
He just shrugs. “I like you.”
“Your reasons are vague as hell, hobes.” You say, poking his chest slightly. But as you do so, Hobie grabs your hand, yanking you closer.
“I…like…you.” He says this slower, making you meet his gaze. “And new Peter is in my way.”
“What?” Your brows furrow as you stare at him.
“You keep talkin’ to him.” Hobie further says, as you try and wrap your mind around the implications of his words.
“You’re making it sound like i can’t talk to anyone.” You force a chuckle, making sure this isn’t some sort of prank.
Hobie just holds your hand tighter as his gaze darts across your face, for once—serious. “If they look like they like you…no.”
“I…” you drift off, cause you don’t really know what you were gonna say. “Peter doesn’t like me.”
“You sure?” Hobie asks, and finally the whole situation clicks, all your denials fizzling away. Hobie like likes you. You stare at Hobie, mouth slightly opening.
“You…like me?” You slowly ask.
“I thought I already said tha’?” Hobie can’t help his little side smile from appearing at your cute shocked expression. “I thought I was bein’ painfully obvious too. I guess there isn’t much goin’ on in that pretty head o’ yours.” He taps under your chin, with a teasing tone.
You press your lips together, praying you’re not looking flushed. But of course Hobie notices. “Look at ya…ya all shy.” He brings you closer. “It’s cute.”
Then your gaze is dropping down to his lips, back and forth as your heart beats a fraction harder. Then before you can chicken out, you quickly reach forward and peck his lips.
Hobie blinks as you back away, moving to speed walk away. But then Hobie is smiling, effortlessly pulling you back as his lips find yours, this time a little longer, a little harder. His lip ring sends shivers through you as it contrasts with his warm tongue, eagerly exploring your mouth.
His hands have slipped to cup your neck and face, as he began to smile against your lips. You manage to slightly lean your head back. “You were jealous…” You say, an almost smug smile forming.
“Don’ start.” Hobie mutters, bringing your lips back to his.
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© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.
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ecoamerica · 2 months
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youtube
Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared
The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!
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voltronisanobsession · 11 months
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Miguel codes Lyla a Friend
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I had this idea since I was thinking maybe sometimes Lyla gets lonely being the only hologram in the spider society apart from Spider Byte. So I decided to do this and show what it could be like if Miguel finally coded and programmed Lyla a new friend!
This also might be the very few writings I’ll do for this fandom since I wanna focus on the ones Im active in now :D
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For this to even be CONSIDERED a possibility, Lyla would have to have been annoying Miguel for awhile, complaining about how oh so lonely she’s gotten being the only hologram
“Come on.”
“There’s Spider Byte.”
“She doesn’t count, plus she’s still a spider. Come oonn.”
“Is my company not enough, Lyla?”
“Look me in the eyes and you tell me. Come ooonnnnn.”
In the end Miguel will succumb to Lyla’s persistent complains much to the her delight
I can already see her excitedly yapping away while Miguel begins programming her new ‘friend’
I totally see Miguel just copying and pasting Lyla’s original coding while making some changes like the personality and appearance just because he didn’t want to spend too much time on this
It takes a couple of runs before both he and Lyla are satisfied with the final outcome, you😍
Miguel made it so that you were the more compassionate and kind one between the two of you while Lyla is the honest and blunt one
You chose your own name, which surprised both him and Lyla since you were already adapting and growing as an intelligent form of tech
“Well then Y/N, welcome to the team.”
Cue Lyla grabbing your arm and disappearing to who knows where while Miguel sighs
Omg she would totally give you star glasses so you could match with her heart glasses!!!
You guys are rarely seen without the other ever since your arrival
Lyla would show you all the ropes to being Miguel’s assistant and would be so proud when you help file your first report on an anomaly :,)
“They grow up so quick.”
“But I can’t ‘grow up’ Lyla.”
“You’ll understand those sayings soon.”
You guys do everything together, like karaoke nights with Miguel, make friendship bracelets for each other and take silly pics with that one bunny filter Lyla’s obsessed with
It’s like you’re Thing 1 and Thing 2 according to Peter :]
Because this is technically your shot in ‘living’, you definitely look at everything with stars in your eyes
Everything is still so new to you and so exciting that you often get carried away with rambling about how fascinating life is
Which causes Miguel to raise an eyebrow at times because it’s almost like your becoming more self aware of yourself, gaining more… human emotions despite you being only a hologram
And he isn’t wrong
Once learning of Miles Morales’ story and how he’s essentially going to destroy the multiverse according to Miguel, you can’t help but feel for the boy
Your traits grow from being compassionate to feeling real emotions which confused you at first when you began feeling so different at times
(You asked Lyla about the weird feelings you’ve been getting but she only looks at you weirdly so you don’t bring it up again)
You make it a habit to mention every now and then that Miles had no control over what happened and how you feel sorry for him
How you even theorize that with him, the cycle of Spiderman could possibly be broken!
Lyla would 100 percent lecture you on how that would be terrible and all that fun sunshine stuff which you definitely don’t listen to
Hobie would be around when you’re on one of your tangents on how Miles could be the change the multiverse could benefit from, capturing his attention
“Rebellious one, aren’t you?”
“Oh Hobie hello! What do you mean by that?”
“I sure as ‘ell know bossman wouldn’t program your own ideas to go against his, now would he?”
After that small talk, your hologram self would realize ‘hey! Im thinking for myself, I have my own ideals and beliefs!’
Cue you acting out against Miguel cuz you’re in your rebellious phase
Bro would totally tell Lyla to control you
You’ve been giving him more headaches than Lyla has and that’s saying something
I think Lyla would try to tap into your programming to see if there was something wrong only to find out you put a PASSWORD on that file LMAO💀💀💀
Her reaction: 😦
Besides that concerning factor that is making itself way more known after Miles arrives, most of the spiders do enjoy your company
They love how you just float around them as you beg to hear more of their stories and fights they’ve experienced
You have an almost childish light because of how interested and amazed you are at them
You love being around Peter B. though because of Mayday
She loves just swishing her hand at your frame, giggling as you reappear in a different spot, your soft glowing light capturing her attention every time
Overall I think being Miguel’s second assistant isn’t the most terrible thing in the world
Lyla’s sarcasm has rubbed off on you so you both like to make Miguel’s job a little more difficult than it needs to be
But he definitely has a soft spot for both you, especially since you often sympathize with him whenever he watches those videos of his past life
You’re just a silly member of the society trying to learn more about life and the special moments it holds
You want to be apart of the real world instead of being confined to the digital world, which Lyla and Miguel don’t realize is a problem until you finally go against them
DUN DUN DDUUUNNNN
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the-power-of-a-pen · 11 months
Text
A Way Home
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Fandom: Spiderverse
Summary: Following the loss of his alternate universe daughter, Miguel is reluctant to risk letting anyone close to him and breaking canon again. However, as most anomalies are returned to their universes, there's the issue of you. You don't have a universe to return to. So, after having you on his team for half a year, he adopts you as his child.
Word Count: 4654
Pairing?: Father-child relationship btwn Miguel and gn! reader.
Trigger Warnings: Some cursing, reader is hinted to having a traumatic past (very briefly and vaguely described), 1 reference to reader as "Spiderman" (meant as a gender-neutral phrase)
A/n: This turned out to be longer than I had planned b/c I realized how much I had to add to make the change of heart even slightly natural, so let me know if y'all want a part two of the reader and Miguel interacting further along the adoption. Not sure how I feel about the structure + characterization in this one. Feedback much appreciated! Please!! I'm on my hands and knees, begging for feedback!!!
------
"Lyla, status on current anomalies," Miguel ordered. He leaned over the yellow panels in front of him, watching the same scene of him and his child playing over and over again. His grip on the console tightened.
She blipped into view. "Currently, there are 918,503,201 anomalies to be returned to their home universes. That's 40% less than yesterday! Spider-Byte does have an update for you regarding-"
"I'll convene with her later. I'm busy."
"Busy brooding over your twelfth cup of coffee. Not enough sugar this time around?" Lyla teased, only to be met with a glare. "Alright, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. But seriously, it can't wait. A canon event was disrupted and now there's a spider-person without a universe to return to."
Miguel turned around dangerously fast. "What did you just say?"
"Talk to Margo -- she'll fill you in." Lyla blipped away.
------
"There you are," Margo mumbled to herself as Miguel approached. "This one's in rough shape, got dropped in Earth 616 and put up a fierce fight before Jessica took them to HQ. I tried to send them through the Go Home Machine, but it just dropped them back here."
"And you're sure it's not a hardware issue?"
"It's 2099," Margo drolled and rolled her eyes. "There's no hardware issues anymore, grandpa."
"Then try sending them home again. I don't see why this requires my supervision."
"This machine tears people's atoms apart and throws them back together in other dimensions," she explained. "If I run the same person through the machine too many times, they could die."
Miguel sighed heavily and began pacing around. "Well, what am I supposed to do? Keep them here forever?"
Margo looked at him like he was crazy and slowly nodded. "You can't leave them here to die."
"They're an anomaly anywhere they go, Spider-Byte. Maybe death would be a mercy."
"To you," Peter B. called from behind him.
"Maldito sea, carajo" Miguel cursed under his breath, turning around. "I thought you were taking the week off."
"Well, I was going to, but Mayday was begging me for another one of these cafeteria burgers," he said with his mouth full of food. "They're really good, you should seriously try them sometime."
Miguel's eyes darted to Mayday and quickly darted away. "I have work to return to in my office, so if you'll excuse me-"
Peter stepped in his way. "I'm sorry, Miguel, but I can't let you walk away from this problem. It's gone too far."
"I'm sorry, what?" Miguel questioned, laughing bitterly.
"Ok, I'm not great with words, especially not in front of big, strong, angry men, so MJ had me prewrite this, let me just get it- oh, Mayday has it. Mayday, hold the paper up for daddy, thanks, sweetheart."
Peter cleared his throat and began to over-annunciate his speech. "Everyone in this building joined your society because they believed in your ability to lead, shape, and change the world. We trusted you to use humane practices behind your actions and to keep the safety and rights of humanity at mind before all else. However, given the fact- Ok, this is bullshit - sorry, Mayday, don't tell mommy. Point is, Miguel, that you claim that you're all about saving the multiverse and saving humanity, but then you throw half of your sanity away to hunt down a 15 year old kid who just wants to save his dad. You're so obsessed with the concept of saving humanity that you forgot what it's like to care about individual humans. You forgot how to be a human."
"I never forgot what it felt like to care. To love."
"It's okay to admit that the new kid reminds you of your daughter, you know."
For a moment, Miguel and Peter B. just stood across from each other in silence, unable to break eye contact. Miguel's expression was intense, but otherwise unreadable. Then: "Go home, Parker. More and more of you prove that you're untrustworthy when it comes to prioritizing the greater good. I'm not afraid to get rid of you, too."
Peter's arms gripped on tighter to Mayday. He seemed to want to say something, but found it in him to walk away. Once he went through his portal back home, Miguel called for Lyla.
"Hold the chatter, Lyla," he said before she could open her mouth, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Silence any notifications except for the urgent ones. And I mean urgent."
"Well, since you asked so nicely," she remarked sarcastically, but complied.
------
Everything in Miguel's office repeated like a broken record. The video of his daughter. Peter's comment that he "forgot what it's like to care about humans, forgot how to be human." Gwen's "we're supposed to be the good guys." The feeling of his own child glitching out of existence in his palms, the very reason he got into this work. The ticking of the clock. The ticking of that motherfucking clock.
He zipped a web to the clock and smashed it into the ground, falling to a knee amidst the broken glass.
"I understand that you're having a very emo moment right now, Mr. O'Hara," Pavitr began, "But Jessica told me to drop this off." He placed the file on the floor and nudged it over with his foot as far as he could without getting too close. "I'm heading home now, have a great day!"
"Wait."
"Oh, I was afraid you would say that."
"Tell Jessica to report to my office."
"She said to tell you that she's not available until noon tomorrow."
"Of course," he chuckled angrily. "One person's off for the week, another needs 3 weeks of recovery. Now one of my only trustworthy members can't report for duty until tomorrow. But who's checking in on me, huh? That's right - no one. I took on this leadership role because I know firsthand what it feels like to have the only joy in your life, your only reason for living, taken away from you because of your own reckless mistakes. And despite all of that, I made it my life's mission to make sure it doesn't happen to anyone else. But now I'm the villain?! "'We're supposed to be the good guys!'" "'You can't leave them to die!'" "'They remind you of your daughter.'" But does anyone else here know the pain of losing a child you weren't even destined to have?"
Pavitr blinked heavily. "With all due respect, sir, I'm 17."
Miguel barely seemed to hear him. He sank to the floor, running his hands through his hair and not bothering to clear the glass shards around him. "Maybe they're all right. Maybe I'm the one hurting everyone else. Maybe I'll make the same mistake I did before, and take another innocent life because I want to feel fulfilled, just for a moment."
"Should I get someone?"
Miguel sighed. "Just go."
------
“Morning, sunshine,” Jessica called, taking a seat in Miguel’s office. “You had a chance to go through the file?”
Miguel hummed in agreement. “Need a second opinion.”
Jessica flipped through her copy of your file. “Teenager, been Spiderman for 2 years, originally from Earth 45, but got dropped in Ben’s world. A slippery one for sure; took nearly two hours to get them on the ground. Tried talking to them, but they wouldn't speak. I know my stance on this, but what’s yours?”
Miguel paced around the room. “We can’t keep them here. They’re an anomaly regardless of where they go. Margo said that it would be too inhumane to send them through the Go Home Machine again, so… I think we should let them go quietly.”
“Are you serious?”
“When am I not serious?” He took a seat across from Jessica. “I’ve been hearing it from everyone else. I need to hear it from someone who was there from the beginning. Someone who I trust. Am I falling off the edge? Have I gone too far?”
She raised her eyebrows. “You’re just now questioning that? Look, as your friend, I’ll say this: you’re taking too much weight onto your shoulders. You need to stop being Spiderman for a moment and start being Miguel.” She shifted in her seat. “But, as your teammate, I want you to know that I’ll be by your side no matter what you choose.”
Miguel nodded, but he was totally spaced out. All he could think about was his daughter. How he wanted to take this one in so bad, just to feel like a father again, feel like a man again. How he feared the consequences of love. 
Jessica snapped in front of his face. “Earth to Miguel.”
He shook his head. “What?”
“Look, I can’t say that I don’t agree with your initial idea. But I look at them, and at Gwen, and at my future kid, and-” She put her hand on her stomach “-I just can’t imagine leaving them in the dust like that. I was wrong about Gwen, yes, but these kids are suffering. And I don’t know if we can keep making these hard decisions that put these people right back where they were trying to escape from and still call ourselves heroes.”
Miguel held his face in his hands. “I don’t know what’s up and down anymore, right or wrong. I was all of these kids once: Miles, Gwen, Hobie. I know what it’s like to love your family so much that you throw everything else to the wayside. But that cost me my child, and thousands of other lives. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do anything to stop it. I just want to stop the suffering. I just want it to stop.”
Jessica gave him a moment. “Let’s meet the kid. Give them a trial before we make any decisions we can’t take back.”
“Alright,” he agreed, “But if you’re wrong about this-”
“Then lunch is on me. Come on, mafioso.”
------
“Here they are,” Margo announced. “Just so you know, they’re fully aware of their situation, but not very talkative.”
“Let me talk to them,” Miguel insisted. “I want to hear what they have to say.”
As Miguel and Jessica approached, you refused to meet their eyes. Instead, you drew your hood closer to your face.
Miguel took a knee by you, talking through the red barrier. “Hey, kid. My name is Miguel. Miguel O’Hara. I’m Spiderman.”
You gasped dramatically. “No way! Really? I never would have guessed!”
He took in a breath. “So you do speak. Look, we’re trying to relocate you, but we need to have your account of what happened. Why doesn’t your home exist anymore?”
You shrugged and counted off the events on your fingers. “Dalmatian-looking dude crashed through a window at my internship. He went straight for the collider room, and most of my mentors were at lunch, so I went after him. I tried to shut off the collider at the same time he stepped through it, he pushed me into a hole, that lady behind you caught me after an uncomfortably long chase, and here we are.”
“You worked at Alchemax,” Miguel mumbled, though mostly to himself.
“Yeah,” you replied, leaning back. “What’s that got to do with anything?”
“Did you get bitten by the radioactive spider before or after working there?”
“Did I fucking what?”
“That’s how you got your powers, right?” He asked.
“My powers? Oh, I see what’s happening here,” you laughed. “You’re all off your rockers! Let me guess, this is some alternate dimension Alchemax where everyone’s trying to biologically get the abilities that I developed through technology. Ooh ooh, or, this is an elite spider society trying to save the multiverse from itself!”
“That was really just a guess?” questioned Jessica.
“I read a lot of sci-fi,” you explained.
“Nevermind all of that,” Miguel groaned. “What’s your story, kid? What’s your motive? Because if we don’t have that information, we can’t help get you out of there.”
Your expression became grave for a moment as you considered your options and chuckled bitterly. “My story? My story is that I’m a poor kid from the slums who worked their ass off to get into a good school so that I could do better for my family. My story is that my family never loved me, my friends never cared, and I was forced to choose between what I love to do and what the world needed from me. I didn’t have the power to stop my parents from hurting me or stop people from hurting each other. So, I manufactured that power and took it into my own hands. My story is that the moment I was released from that hellhole of a world, I was locked up in a three foot wide cage and forced to talk about my feelings. I heard what you guys were talking about in that back room. All I ask is that you do it quickly. I don’t like waiting.”
“Miguel, we can take a quick debrief if you need one,” Jessica offered, putting a hand on his shoulder.
Miguel didn’t budge. He looked into your eyes and felt your pain like it was his own. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Finally: “Let them go, Margo.”
“What?” 
“You heard me,” he asserted. “Let them go.”
Margo released you and offered her hand to help you step down from the pedestal, which you reluctantly accepted. “Didn’t know you were one for sob stories, Mr. O’Hara,” you mocked, though your comment fell through as soon as your legs trembled from lack of use.
“I’m not,” he responded, walking up to you. “But I know an innovator when I see one. You’re hurt, yes, but you have the capacity to do so much good. I’m offering you a place on my team.”
You approached cautiously, your arms crossed. “And if I say no?”
“I’d ask you to reconsider.” He held out his hand for a shake. You accepted, and he smiled. “Welcome to HQ.”
Margo whooped in the background and gave your shoulder a squeeze.
------
“Ok, first mission briefing,” Miguel started, walking backwards.
“On the move?” you asked.
“That’s the only way to do it.” He shot a web to a nearby building and dropped from an HQ terrace. 
You followed suit. “Where exactly are we going?” you shouted over the wind.
“Earth 616. There’s a rogue Vulture stealing tech from Osborn. We’d let it happen, but the man's the only thing between a country of people and an all-out war.”
“Got it.”
“We go in, capture Vulture, and bring him back to HQ. Shouldn’t be too difficult.”
 You stepped through your portal and immediately got whiplash from the pure speed of a nearby aircraft. 
Vulture swooped down from above and tore the tail off of the police helicopter. It crashed into a skyscraper and gained speed as it headed for the street below. 
Miguel spoke to you through the comms. “Trial number one, newbie. I’ll pursue Vulture; you stop that helicopter from hurting civilians.”
“On it.” You dived off of your skyscraper to gain speed and pulled yourself forward with your webs. In one smooth movement, you grabbed the two co-pilots and placed them on the closest rooftop. 
The helicopter was quickly approaching the ground, where children were playing in an enclosed playground. 
“Shit,” you murmured, propelling yourself under the machine to create a landing pad for it at a safe distance from the kids. At the rate you could fire, you wouldn’t be able to stop it on time. 
In the distance, you saw Miguel struggling to keep Vulture away from a construction site, and reached out to him over the comms. “Have him ram into that crane.”
“What?”
“Just trust me.”
Miguel redirected the Vulture, dodging last second when he attacked so that the crane would fall down. 
The crane caught the chopper where it was, and you used it as a crutch to help you redirect the chaos to the empty street. You swung around the crane five times, wrapping an immense amount of webbage around it and attaching along the side of a business building. When the helicopter threatened to fall due to the weight of it, you shot three web bombs at it to keep it in place.
When you reached the ground, you were out of breath and half-heartedly waving to the clapping children and their parents. Miguel placed his hand on your shoulder as you observed the incapacitated Vulture.
“Not bad, kid,” Miguel chuckled. “Not bad.”
------
A good six months had passed, and you had risen in the ranks of the Spider Society. You were still without a place to stay, and had been bouncing from place to place in between missions. The first month, it was Pavitr and his aunt’s place. Then, Hobie’s, then HQ, and finally, Gwen’s. Most of your free time was spent discussing tech with Margo or trailing behind Miguel. 
A building-wide alert had gone off, sending every spider-being into high alert as they searched for the threat.
“What’s the sitch?” you asked Miguel as the two of you bounded down the hall. “A futuristic Rhino that’s suspected to work for The Spot just invaded HQ. He’s trying to destroy our tech and pick us off.”
Just as Miguel had finished his explanation, Rhino crashed through a door four floors below. You both zipped towards him, barely avoiding running into Peter B. as he took a picture of himself, Mayday, and Rhino. Miguel attacked Rhino head-on, performing a spin-kick to the face before webbing his arms together and latching onto his back. Rhino broke his constraints effortlessly, and threw Miguel out of a nearby window. You helped Noir get to his feet and went after Rhino.
By the time you got there, Rhino had Miguel pinned to the cracked concrete. His web shooters were broken, and he was using all of his remaining strength to stop Rhino from snapping his neck. When he saw you approaching, he tried to silently signal for you to go, but you didn’t listen.
“Hey, Alexei!” you shouted. “I never really took you for the dominant type! It doesn’t suit you.”
You swung a piece of concrete at his back and zipped to deliver a punch to the face. Rhino was quick to return the favor, and charged you through a nearby wall. 
Miguel attempted to stand up as backup arrived. He climbed onto Rhino’s back and sunk his teeth into his neck, effectively, though temporarily, paralyzing him. A team of 15 spiderbeings worked to get Rhino back to HQ while you and Jessica helped Miguel to his feet.
“What the hell were you thinking, kid? You could have died,” Miguel snapped.
“You were the one near death,” you argued. “If I didn’t come when I did, you could’ve died. Was I just supposed to let that happen?!”
“Yes!”
“No!” You dropped his arm from around your shoulder and Peter B. went to pick up the slack. “Why is it so hard for you to understand that people care about you? You gave me a chance when no one else would. I lost my world, my home, and my friends. I couldn’t lose you, too.”
“That’s not for you to decide. I can’t trust you like an adult if you refuse to act like one,” he grunted, before wavering in his stance. Jessica helped right him. 
You took a step back and pressed your lips together. “You know, I joined this team because I wanted to save people. I have the ability to save them. And… if you can’t acknowledge that ability, then… maybe you need to reevaluate your interests.” With that, you took off.
Jessica and Peter sat Miguel down to rest. 
“How bad did I fuck up?” Miguel inquired.
“Give them a few minutes to sit on it,” Peter suggested. “Kids are like that. They need time to cool off. Just make sure you talk to them later.”
------
You sat on the slanted glass roof of HQ to listen to music and blow off some steam. Heavy footprints sounded from behind you. You sighed. “If you’re here to argue, can you at least wait until the end of this song?”
“I’m not going to argue with you. I wanted to talk. And… apologize.”
That piqued your interest, but you tried to sound nonchalant as you gestured to the space next to you. “Go ahead, then. Sit.” You turned the music off.
He obliged. “I’m sorry for saying that I couldn’t trust you and that you needed to act like an adult. It wasn’t fair. I do trust you, and there’s no reason for you to act like an adult when you’re still a kid. I’ll be more conscious of my words in the future.”
You nodded. “Thanks.”
You sat in silence for a while, and you began to get up.
“Wait,” he asked. “Please.”
“What did you really come here to say?”
“Just sit, and I’ll tell you.” He waited for you to return to your spot and took a deep breath. “When I was first messing with the multiverse after working at Alchemax, I wasn’t as careful as I am now. I found a world where I was dead, but had a daughter, so I replaced myself and began raising her. I loved her more than anything. But, I was an anomaly, and had disrupted canon events. I felt her glitch right out of my hands. Thousands of innocent people died that day because of me. So, I made a vow to myself: never again. I wouldn’t let this happen to anyone else, and I wouldn’t let anyone get close to me.”
He paused, gulped, and forced himself to make eye contact with you. “Then I met you. And I tried to hate you, I really did. But you’re funny, and you’re smart and passionate, and you have a damn good heart. And everything in me just wants to protect you. I’m so mad at myself for hurting you and-”
You cut him off with a bear hug, to which he slowly responded once he understood what was happening. You shed a few tears into the crook of his neck and mumbled, “I’m sorry, too.”
He laughed, partially in disbelief. “For what?”
“I called you a dick behind your back for the first three months because I thought you had a stick up your ass.” You backed away snickering and wiped your eyes. “But you’re more my family than my parents ever were.”
Now or never, Miguel.
“About that,” he began. “I know you’ve been staying at Gwen’s place - and you’re completely free to stay there if you want - I just thought it might be nice for you to have a permanent place to stay, a school to go to, a familiar face, you know?”
“Not really,” you expressed. “What do you mean?”
“I- it’s better if I just show you.” Miguel took a folder out of his bag and handed it to you. He looked the other way as you processed what he gave you.
“Are these adoption papers?”
“Um… yeah,” he relented, still refusing to look your way. 
“And this isn’t a joke?”
“Of course not. But, it’s also up to you. I don’t want to pressure you into anything you don’t want to do-”
“Yes,” you cut him off and wrapped him in an even tighter hug. “Absolutely yes.”
------
Miguel helped you carry your few boxes of belongings that you had left at Gwen’s into his modern duplex. 
“Jesus, dude,” you commented. “You didn’t tell me you were rich.”
He laughed. “This is what being a scientist earns you.”
“Damn.” You took the space in. The windows in the living room were from floor to ceiling, the couch a cool grey with ornate yellow and green pillows. Everything was open concept, and both the Mexican and Irish flag hung on either side of the TV. Aside from the occasional painting, the apartment was largely monochromatic. 
“The kitchen is under that loft area, which I usually use as office space, but you’re free to use it, too. Bathrooms on first and second floors,” he explained while walking up the stairs. He stopped in front of the third door to the right. “This is your room.”
You gently pushed open the door. Miguel had prepared for your arrival intensely. A twin bed sat in the back left corner of the room, a desk in the back right. There was a wide panel of windows with shades and a nightstand with knick knacks. A mirror, bookshelf, decorative rug, and bean bag filled the empty space. A poster with a Spiderman symbol hung over your desk, and a smile fought its way onto your face. 
“There’s a closet, too,” Miguel said proudly.
You opened the closet to find it fully stocked with casual, formal, and tactical clothing. “You did all of this for me?”
He smiled warmly. “Welcome home.”
------
It was the following year on Father’s Day, and you were waiting for Miguel to come home when you heard keys turning at the door. 
“Hey,” you called from the kitchen island. “I made dinner for us. And we can watch that crappy comedy show that you like.”
He hung up his jacket and gave you a hug. “Thanks, sweetheart. How was it with your friends?”
“Pretty good. But it took an hour to get Miles out of that Famous Footwear. I swear that boy has enough sneakers to cover the Mediterranean. How was work?”
Miguel grabbed a plate and took a seat next to you. “Well, we finally figured out the malfunction in the control room. Hobie had been messing around with it for his own projects. Shocker, right? But other than that it was just a bunch of boring meetings.”
“Oh, I just remembered something.” You rushed upstairs to get a gift bag from your room and returned, out of breath. “I made this for you. It’s not much, but my job doesn’t start until July and I wanted to give you something, so…”
He removed the tissue paper to find a carefully knitted shawl with his suit designs on it. He remained speechless for a moment. 
“What do you think?”
“I love it.”
“Really? Cuz I could get you something else if you’d prefer-”
“I love it,” he repeated, giving you a bear hug. “I’ll wear it all the time when the weather takes a turn.”
“I thought it might be useful for winter patrols,” you admitted. 
“It will be. I know you don’t like getting too sappy, so let’s watch some TV, yeah?”
Halfway through an episode of the comedy show, you got up to use the bathroom. Miguel paused the show and admired your work on his shawl. When you came back, he was still staring at it as if he were examining each individual stitch. 
“I’m back,” you said when he didn’t acknowledge you. 
He hummed in response. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
You furrowed your brows, worried now. “Is something wrong?”
“No, not all, it’s just…” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I wanted to let you know that I would understand if you want to look into seeing if there’s any way to find your real parents. I love you and I want you here, don’t get me wrong, but if this is something you feel strongly about, I wanted to make sure you knew that my feelings wouldn’t be hurt.”
You stared at him for a while before bursting into laughter. 
“What’s so funny?”
You grabbed his hands and looked him in his eyes. “I found my real dad the moment you brought me here. I’m home.”
He squeezed your hands and repeated your words as if convincing himself of the truth. “You’re home.”
------
568 notes · View notes
aquatark · 4 months
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My previous post made me realize that not a lot of people here are aware of Endless Ocean's bowmouth guitarfish glitch fiasco, which I think is a shame because 1) it's an interesting look into this game's history, and 2) I find it really funny... long-winded explanation incoming!
So! you see this guy?
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You can place him in the game's aquarium, right? I bet if you've played the game, you've done it without even thinking twice!
...Well, in the initial Japanese release of Endless Ocean (known over there as Forever Blue), you couldn't. In fact, attempting to place this little scrimbly in the aquarium crashes your game.
Now this isn't too bad, since you can just press the reset button and continue your game normally, right? well... if you happen to leave the aquarium and save the game after having opened the creature placing menu, selecting a bowmouth guitarfish, and then closing the menu without placing anything... then congrats! you can never use the aquarium again, because it autoplaces whatever you left in that menu on your next visit! :D
In case you're wondering what this looks like in action, this video taken around the game's launch showcases it well, while also using the game's MP3 playback feature to put some anime music in the background, which I think adds to the experience:
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So... how does this happen? How could something like this make it into the final game?
Turns out, this is due to how Endless Ocean categorizes creatures internally. Each creature in the game falls into a category, depending on the movements and behaviors the developers wanted to give them. For example, "migrate" type creatures follow a set of coordinate points creating a route around a stage, whereas "swim" type creatures simply swim around the area in which they are placed within a certain radius. Think of a whale shark's movements versus that of a butterflyfish - they have very different AI telling them how to behave.
Now, trying to load a creature of one type as a creature of another... does not make the game happy, to put it lightly. It doesn't know how to handle the request, and so crashes to prevent further weirdness from ensuing. There is only one byte (literally the second smallest unit of digital information storage you could use) per creature responsible for telling the game what type to load the creature as, and this includes when placing creatures in the aquarium. A slip of the keyboard caused a dev to type the wrong number in this byte, making it attempt to spawn bowmouth guitarfish placed in the aquarium as "swim" type rather than their correct "migrate" type. Literally one wrong number caused the game to crash, and for ears to bleed across Japan.
Since the aquarium is unlocked so early in the game, people discovered this on day one, in their first play session... and since Endless Ocean was a launch game for the Wii in Japan, that's even worse. It's not exactly a great look for your brand new console to have a game break so bad you can't use a mechanic anymore. And Wii game crashes are not pretty. So, Nintendo put out a statement on the day of release, notifying people of the problem, how to avoid it, and saying that a recall would be put in place. A week later, they released another statement, which stated people could apply to have their games replaced with an updated version, which would be mailed to them free of charge, by either phoning in or filling out an application online. This service continued up until 2020, over ten years after release! They really didn't want any copies of the broken version around... good thing we have archives of it!
The updated version even has different box art, with an added blue bar at the bottom, showcased in this incredibly crunchy image:
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I love picturing Nintendo executives freaking out after a humble diving game causes such a mess they have to print the game again, losing them a lot of money and causing the game to get a lot of negative press...
I've seen old forum threads talking about the game as if it's garbage before it even came out internationally, because this situation was pretty much the only major news coming out about it. Can't have helped sales, at least...
Anyway, the game was patched to fix this glitch, along with a few other minor tweaks, and it was this version of the game that got translated worldwide. Japanese fans love joking about the whole ordeal, and I can see why! For example, on the bowmouth guitarfish's Niconico Pedia page (for which the closest equivalent in English would be something like Know Your Meme), this is recounted comedically as "...probably the most notable moment for the bowmouth guitarfish in the history of the internet", which is probably true! There's even image macros about it!
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So yeah. The bowmouth guitarfish's reputation was forever tainted, and some Nintendo execs to this day probably wince when they see one.
tl;dr - A developer for Endless Ocean typed one number wrong in the code, making the game explode if you place a bowmouth guitarfish in the aquarium. Nintendo had to recall the game, and that specific fish has lived on in infamy among Japanese fans ever since.
Next time you use the aquarium, try putting a bowmouth guitarfish in there, and be grateful you can at all!
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rileywazhere335 · 25 days
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☆*looking at old busted up pc and having extremely sensual thoughts* i can fix him☆
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politemenacephd · 5 months
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Easing Tensions
Miguel O'Hara x transmasc!reader (+18)
Plot: Reader is Miguel's physiotherapist, who gets mouthy with him when he refuses to take proper advice.
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Word count: 8570
Content: Established relationship (friends), slight age difference, sexual tension/rivalry, playfighting, rough dry humping, oral (giving and recieving), rough kissing, workplace affair, P in V sex, slight degradation, biting kink. Warning: Mentions of reader having top surgery and bottom growth but no bottom surgery. Mentions of vaginal anatomy are used when describing reader. -------------------------------------
Notes: I'm porting this over from my AO3 because its my most self indulgent fic and I love it, sorry I really wrote this one for myself but I wanna add to the trans masc fics while I can, enjoy <3
You spun your chair in an empty office, eyes glazed over with boredom.
You were doing everything you could to control your temper. Tapping your pen, twitching your feet, and spinning your chair until you were too dizzy to be annoyed.
You glanced at the clock: 7:05pm. Your eyes narrowed.
Miguel was late. Again. That big hunky idiot was supposed to show up at 6:30pm for his session, and now you were here way past your usual closing time. You were certain all the other spiders had probably gone home by now too. They were probably drinking themselves silly at some Nueva bar while you waited hand and foot on your beloved, high-strung leader.
You grunted and scribbled something in your notes to sketch out the frustration.
You see, you had a special job within the spider society, one that was quite unique. You weren’t a hero, not anymore, nor were you some tech genius or child prodigy.  
No, you were a physiotherapist. It was a rather overlooked job in the grand scheme of things. Everyone thought Spider-Byte was vital for managing the go-home machine, and people like Jess and Peter were considered irreplaceable, but with hundreds of people bending their bodies in inhuman ways and pushing their muscles to the brink, who was there to keep them functioning properly? Who was there to ensure they didn’t slip a disk or get a trapped nerve rending them incapable of fixing anomalies?
You. You were there, and even if your praises weren’t sung to the top of the HQ you were usually shown a basic level of respect by your clients. That is, except for one.
The door suddenly burst open, right as your chair spun a final circle round to face it. You glared at the enormous shadow filling the doorway.
‘You’re late’ you said slowly.
A pair of glowing red eyes glared back at you.
‘Very late’ you repeated, emphasising your point by rising to your own feet. Those red eyes narrowed.
‘As I always say, I’m sorry, but—’
‘You’re a very busy man?’
As you rose from the desk and walked across the floor the shadow emerged into the light, revealing the chiselled face of your most behated client and friend: Miguel O’Hara, head and founder of the spider society.
‘The busiest’ Miguel noted. His full lips curled slightly as he looked down his nose at you. When standing head to head you barely came up to his chest, so you had to tilt your head to see him.
To anyone else he was terrifying. 6ft 8, muscled to the brim, with broad shoulders and blood red eyes. Not to mention those hefty claws, capable of ripping metal in half, or those fangs dripping with paralyzing venom.
Even if you were an averaged sized man you’d be miniscule compared to him, but that didn’t matter. After all, you had a special relationship with this beast of a spider.
‘Take ‘em off, get on the bench’ you said, gently jabbing a finger into his pec. Miguel’s cold expression curled into a familiar smile.
‘Such a gentleman’ he said, his thick tongue dripping with sarcasm.
You chuckled and clapped him on the bicep. ‘For you princess? Always.’
You’d known Miguel a long time. Long enough that you were the only one he’d trust with his physiotherapy, and long enough that you were one of the few people allowed to talk to him like this. You could tell Miguel was fond of you when he gave you that patented, smouldering glare, but didn’t immediately tell you to leave or throw something at your head.
In this case Miguel just grumbled a little before stripping his shirt aside, allowing you a chance to admire his back.
‘Mm… I can see you’ve got more tension’ you noted, tracing a finger down the bare skin of his shoulders. His muscles heaved as he rolled them, but when your finger brushed his skin you saw him give a little shiver. He looked scary, yes, but was far from it.
‘We had another anomaly to deal with. A Vulture got through’ Miguel curtly replied. You began brushing down the pre-prepped massage table at the side of your office as Miguel stripped off his pants.
‘Vulture? That means you were using your webs a lot. You already put too much strain on your rhomboids’ you said, more to yourself than him. You quickly ensured that the blinds were down as he made his way over to your nicely made massage table. His claws immediately ripped the fresh sheet you’d put over it, but you were used to that by now.
You let him do his little undignified shuffle until he was perfectly in place before approaching him from behind. ‘Alright, so, do you want me to focus on the usual spots?’ you asked. He nodded.
With his approval gained you put your palms on his thigh. He let out a slight huff as you started pressing into his muscles. His skin was smooth beneath your fingers, muscled and firm with a light covering of dark hair. You moved over his legs with ease.
‘You’re not doing those stretches I told you to do.’
‘I’m busy.’
‘Uhuh. You’re always- busy, Mr O’Hara’ you said, snidely emphasising the word ‘busy’ while pressing deep into his glute muscles. As anticipated you earned a low grunt of pain from him as you worked out the tension. ‘Which is why, I’m trying, to keep you in good condition. Because if you get sprained again, you won’t be able to work, and you’ll- oof, there’s a tight one- fall even further behind.’
‘I can work through a sprain’ Miguel said through gritted teeth.
‘Not on my watch.’
You heard him give another pained chuckle as you worked down to his thighs. ‘Not on your watch’ he repeated in a sarcastic grunt. ‘What are you, my dad?’
‘You’re old enough to be my dad’ you drawled back. That got you a horrified little choke from Miguel, one you enjoyed a great deal.
‘Cómo se atreven- what are you talking about?’ he snarled. ‘I’m not that old! And you’re certainly not that young.’
You paused mid-press as Miguel pushed himself up onto his elbows, his neck craning to face you. He glared at you, eyes barely a few inches apart, and you returned his coldness with a slightly tilted smile.
‘Sorry. Of course. I meant, old enough to be my daddy’ you teased in a slightly hushed voice.
Just as you’d anticipated, his cheeks darkened with a deep undertone of red. He turned away.
‘You’re incredible unprofessional’ Miguel grumbled.
‘Sorry, daddy.’
‘Ay por Dios- not today, please.’
‘Sorry daddy, won’t happen again daddy.’
‘I will fire you, don’t think I won’t.’
You continued with your session in relative silence. As you worked out his back Miguel occasionally broke into complaints about his job, about how tired he was, and you either listened sympathetically or chided him in that usual bro-ish manner. You could tell now by the little tones in his voice whether he wanted attention or wanted to joke around, and you took it to heart.
After all, you did care about him. He was a tragic man, one who covered all his issues in anger or sarcasm, and this had become his haven to relax in more ways than one.
You felt like you owed him. In many ways, you did owe him.
‘How are you healing up?’
You nearly jumped as Miguel broke that comfortable silence. Your eyes rolled up to see he’d tilted his head, and his red eyes were glowing beneath the unruly tangle of dark hair draped across his forehead.
For the first time you stammered. ‘Ah- you mean the surgery? I’m good. Its, good. The scars still there but it’s healing up nicely.’ You moved to try and continue pushing but Miguel paused you again, this time by pointing a claw at your chest.
‘Can I see?’
You blanked. He wanted to see? With a slightly flustered face you pulled back and unbuttoned the top of your shirt, just enough to show your chest and the two, thin, raised scars going under both your pecs. You felt Miguel’s eyes moving over you slowly.
‘You uh- you like what you see?’ you said, trying to play off the strangely tense moment with a joke. Strangely, Miguel didn’t seem as offput by your flirting as he usually did.
‘Looks good’ he said. He gave a curt nod before dropping his head back onto the table. You hurried to re-do your shirt.
‘Yeah, I uh- thanks for, making them push my surgery forward’ you said as you returned to his body. He grunted and shrugged, his enormous shoulders rippling beneath your hands.
‘It was against code to make you wait so long, of course I pushed it. You shouldn’t thank me. I was doing my job.’
‘Ah, of course. You definitely didn’t scream at the surgeons in the medical bay to… what was it? Do their fucking jobs? And then went on some weird holy than thou tangent about taking care of all our members equally?’
You caught Miguel’s eyes as they darted to your face and had to bite back laughter. He looked horrified.
‘Who- who told you that?!’
‘Peter’ you crowed, ‘he told me at his last session.’
‘Peter, that- He lied’ Miguel snarled. You gave him a gentle pat on the back.
‘Okay. Sure. He lied.’
Another silence fell after that, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
You pressed on the curve where his glute muscles joined his hip joint and watched him shuffle slightly in discomfort, his hips grinding on the table.
God, he had such a nice ass. You admired the shape just an inch away from your hand, the perfect muscles curve and dip. Unprofessional indeed, you thought drolly.
You didn’t want to find him as attractive as you did. You didn’t want to dwell on the wet dreams you had of him, or the few times you’d guilty indulged in pleasuring yourself to those thoughts. It felt wrong, but turning him away was equally as embarrassing. You’d have to explain why.
You knew you had to stop this. You knew you shouldn’t indulge in jokingly flirting, because he didn’t like you like that. Of course he didn’t. Why, then, could you not seem to control your body?
You decided you should probably move away from his behind.
Your hands slowly moved up to his back until your body was bent over his, awkwardly trying to stretch around the enormous man’s upper torso. Each time you breathed he seemed to feel it; he’d shudder or shift, his head nestled into the cushioned bed.
‘Sorry, uh- if anything’s bothering you, let me know’ you said quietly. He lazily opened one eye.
‘You’re good’ he grunted. You smiled; he sounded relaxed for once.
As you finished up the stretching you hopped down and gave him your patented double hand back pat, letting him know without words that he was done. You stepped back to watch him rise.
He rose slowly, muscles arching as he stretched his arms behind his back. The flex was unbearable. What a show off, you thought, all while knowingly gawking at the smooth sculpted mound of his biceps. You’d enjoy him just a little more before he was gone. You knew, deep down, you’d miss him.
‘Ah, mierda- I’m gonna feel like shit tonight’ he grumbled. You shook your head and returned to his side, watching carefully as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He sat perched on the edge with his characteristic hunched posture.
‘Well, that’s what you get. Like I said you’re not doing the stretches I told you to do.’
‘I’m busy.’
‘You’re not so busy that you can’t do the stretches, I specifically tailored your routine to fit—’
‘I’m. too. Busy.’
You bristled as he suddenly interrupted your speech. You turned, just barely giving him a side eye, and found that he wasn’t even looking at you anymore. He was looking for his clothes. You stubborn bastard, you thought, you’re going to get yourself hurt.
‘Do you want your after-session assessment?’ you asked. Miguels lip curled, and to further annoy you he pinched the space between his brows.
‘Whatever, go ahead.’
‘Are you going to listen? Because if you don’t listen there’s no point.’
Miguel looked up, and in unison your eyes narrowed.
This was always the hard bit. Yes, you were friends, but you were in the unenviable position of having a very difficult power dynamic with a very difficult man. He was your boss, but you were his physio. He had control over your job but you had control over his mobility.
You were hot headed men with messy internal biases, which created the perfect conditions for a perfect shitstorm.
‘Well?’ you asked, ‘are you going to listen to me? Or shall I, yet again, put on your record that you refused treatment despite signs of muscle strain and therefore need to be, what’s the nice word for it- supervised?’
‘This is ridiculous, I’m not a child’ he scoffed.
‘No, you’re not. Surprisingly, based on your brashness’ you said, crudely cutting into him. Miguel gave the slightest sneer. As if to assert some kind of dominance he rose from the bed, allowing his shadow to cover you from head to toe.
‘Me being nice to you doesn’t negate that I’m your boss.’
You stared up at Miguel as he spoke. You refused to back down. ‘And you being my boss doesn’t negate that you’re stubborn, and most importantly, wrong’ you replied. His eyes narrowed until only the barest trickles of red light could get through.
He opened his mouth to speak, but to his surprise, you cut him off. ‘Okay. Let’s do this your way, Mr big brave bold and brash’ you said, swinging your arms wide in a challenging motion. ‘Prove to me your mobility isn’t being hindered, and I’ll stop lecturing you. I’ll even write up your notes with a clean bill of health so no one else can nag you either. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’
Miguel raised one brow. You could feel the tension growing, something strange and new bubbling beneath your natural rivalry.
‘Okay’ Miguel said after moments pause. He rolled his bare shoulders to give you a clear view of his strength and physique compared to your own. ‘Deal. Do your worst.’
You grinned. With ease you dipped down to his leg as he attempted to storm away, and with all the strength you had you pressed against one of the nerve points you knew he’d agitated. Immediately he stumbled.
‘Fuck- fuck—’
He hissed as he involuntarily fell, his fangs bared. You had the gall to pout and blow him a kiss.
‘You ready to listen now?’ you crowed. At that, he dived at you directly.
Back and forth you continued this messy pseudo-battle, knocking furniture to the floor and rattling windows with your limbs. Miguel was absolutely determined to do something, whether that be pin you down or paralyze you or something else entirely, but you had one goal: pick on his weak spots until he conceded to listen.
But unfortunately, you were evenly matched, both in prowess and stubbornness.
Each time Miguel got his claws on your body you found another trapped muscle, one that you could manipulate into being painful with just a few prods of your fingers. Each time he released you, and each time he came back angrier, hungrier, and more vengeful than before.
Fatigue only seemed to spur you on harder. You wrestled on the floor like snapping dogs, fangs gnashing and fingers digging into flesh until it bruised. You stuck your hand into his mouth to push him back, and in return he grabbed you by the ankle and dragged you beneath him.
Something had to break. Something had to give, and that give came when Miguel finally caught you.
In a moment of weakness you got too cocky, and an attempt to tease his thigh muscles resulted in you being grabbed by the waist and pinned against the wall. You felt the shutters ripple and crack as you crushed them with your back.
‘Would you- stay, STIL!’ Miguel bellowed.
And, to his surprise, you did.
You froze.
You’d somehow gotten far too close, and Miguel’s body had boxed you in against the closed blinds. Chest to chest, groin to groin, your lips close enough that your breath swirled and conjoined.
You both froze in a sudden panic, your eyes widening in unison, as the room was filled with the tense ticking of your clock.
You weren’t sure what you expected Miguel to do. Leave? Lecture you? Berate you some more, perhaps?
To your surprise, Miguel did none of those things. He just closed his eyes and breathed in deep, right at the crown of your hair. You furrowed your brow. What was he doing?
Oh, but Miguel knew exactly what he was doing.
You see, while you were panicking about your internal attraction, he was busy indulging in his own guilty pleasure. He was drinking in your scent. His heightened senses could smell everything: your sweat, your gorgeous musk, the blood pumping in your veins and your cheap cologne. You smelled like iron. You smelled feral. You smelled hot.
His claws extended against his will. Fuck, what was he doing? Now was not the time for this.
Oh, but you smelled so good. You felt so good. All that pent up curiosity he tried to keep in check spilled out, as his momentary aggression allowed his walls to fall. Usually when he got mad it was his other inhibitions that fell. He threw things or smashed them. But there was only one thing here that he wanted to smash and destroy, and it was you.
His guilty pleasure. His friend who he pretended to be annoyed by. His worst, most indulged temptation. His pretty boy.
Slowly his eyes opened, boring down into yours with terrifying intensity. You saw his lips curl back, his fangs on display. ‘I should… leave’ Miguel said slowly. You felt his heart hammering against your chest.
‘Why? We’re not done’ you replied. His eyes narrowed. Did he sound, strained?
‘I need- to leave’ he said, this time even slower.
‘Why?’ you repeated. You were testing the waters. There was no way, you thought. There was no way he was thinking what you thought he was thinking.
‘Because I—’ Miguel couldn’t even get the words out. His body was moving on its own. He was bending now, his face getting close and closer. At this point even you, in your insecure denial, couldn’t avoid the truth. You could feel his heart thundering. You could feel the tension in his muscles, and most importantly the soft little throbbing in his barely covered crotch.
‘I can’t—’ Miguel’s voice had gone husky. Your eyelids drooped as he got closer.
‘You- idiot.’ It was supposed to be a hiss, but your voice dribbled out like honey. It was a pathetic whine. God, you sounded like such a brat. You felt him throb a second time.
‘You don’t talk to me like that’ Miguel spat. His lips were barely a cm from yours now, and you felt every word. ‘I am your boss. I am the reason you’re here.’
‘Idiot—’
‘Shut your mouth.’
A soft little shuddered breath hit his face. ‘Make me.’
That was the trigger, the final cut on the barest thread holding you both back. In a second his lips were on yours.
It was frantic, almost aggressive, the way you fell on each other. Your nails dug into the thick muscles of his neck as he pushed you to the wall, and in no time at all your lips were parted. Your tongues fought just like your hands, trying to overpower the other, with such ferocity that soon your jaw and chin were wet with each other’s spit.
‘MM- Mm—’
Your moans were muffled by each other’s tongues, but you could feel his gruff response as a vibration against your lips. He pushed you until the window creaked, threatening to break it. He squeezed you until your bones hurt.
When you pulled back it was purely to survive, to gasp for air as neither of you had remembered to breathe. But even then, you wouldn’t stop. After just a few shaky breathes Miguel returned to your face. He was harsh, nibbling and sucking and biting all the way down your neck. He bit until he drew just a little blood and then eagerly licked it away, filling you with just enough venom to soften you in his hands. You bit his shoulder to muffle your groans.
Biting like animals, clawing like animals. This was your own kind of battle.
When the soft, bruised, reddened skin of your neck could no longer satisfy him, Miguel spun you around, forcing your face and chest against the window. You felt his full body weight crushing your own.
‘I- I didn’t know you swung this way, Mr O’Hara’ you teased between pants. Miguel rewarded you with a rough twist of your arm, driving his hips down on your ass.
‘Why not? You’re a good-looking man, aren’t you?’ Miguel grunted. You felt his bulge heave as he dry-humped against your rear, his clawed hand easily pinning your back. ‘A pretty boy with a smart mouth.’
‘So- you do like me for my mouth, huh?’
His claws dug a little deeper, rendering you speechless as his cock throbbed. ‘I like you- for this.’
You gasped as he squeezed your back, your hips and your ass in that order, before finishing with a gentle tug at your hair. For once you decided to just shut up, and you let him dry hump you against the wall.
After riding out that initial frustration the two of you collapsed into a panting mess. Miguel’s chest was heaving against your head as he slowly rubbed himself against you. His breath hit the window and steamed it up.
‘I knew this was gonna happen’ Miguel murmured, his voice low and deep.
‘W-what?’
‘I knew I couldn’t resist you, pendejo’ he purred. ‘Ah- you’re gonna get me in so much trouble.’
That little confession made your stomach twist and your legs weak. You didn’t want to admit it, but your heart was thundering in your chest.
‘Little- office fraternization never hurt anyone, huh?’ you panted, trying to play it off.
‘You’re a distraction’ Miguel grunted. You bit back another desperate groan as he lowered his palm to your ass. He squeezed, hard, the fat and muscle tender beneath his thick claws and calloused fingers. His hot breath hit the glass in frantic pants. ‘A- gorgeous fucking distraction.’
‘Well then- get it over with’ you whined. You were grinding back against his bulge with unbridled desperation now, showcasing an utter lack of shame. God he felt good. God he felt big. ‘Fuck me you idiot, then you can stop- moping!’
It was an invitation you didn’t think he’d take, but you were wrong. So wrong. You felt him throb so hard it scared you, his throat releasing a startled whine.
‘You want… you want me to—’
It was almost cute, how shy that huge man suddenly sounded. You bit back the urge to smile and just nodded.
‘Please’ you whispered. ‘Please, Miguel, just- just fuck me. I won’t ask so nicely again.’
His hands squeezed you tight, his thick body squishing you against the glass. You’d never felt so small, so insignificant. Usually it would have felt emasculating, but here it felt unbearably right. You felt the slight sting of his claws digging into your soft belly.
‘I’ll pay extra’ Miguel whispered.
‘W-what?’
‘For the- for the session, I’ll pay extra if you let me.’
‘Jesus, I already said you could- fine, fine, whatever, just please fucking touch me.’
You could physically feel his joy at your response. ‘Ah- mi rey’ he murmured. His desperation was tangible. ‘As you wish.’
Your whole body was lifted as Miguel spun you around and held you up into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. Without thinking you smashed your lips into his.
‘Mm…’
You relished in his messy tongue play as he carried you over to the table, eagerly throwing your neatly planned supplies to the floor with a violent clatter. His full lips parted and his tongue snaked deep into your throat. You were terrified he would bite you, but that only spurred your arousal further.
With a soft oomph you were thrown to the desk. As your lips parted you drooled, a thin slither of saliva and venom hanging between your mouths. Miguel panted back at you. His body was curled across yours, his hips spreading your legs and his hands on your wrists, pinning them to the wood.
‘You want me on top? Or, do you want to- you know. Other way around’ he asked, awkwardly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
‘I don’t have my strap-on, so, gonna have to be you on top this time.’
A ghost of a smile spread across his face. ‘I’m sorry, this time?’
You grunted as he flipped you onto your chest. You felt his claws tearing your dress pants aside, ruining that nice expensive fabric as he threw them to the floor. You could feel him mounting your back as you were pushed into the desk.
‘I thought you wanted me to fuck you and get it out of the way?’ Miguel teased.
‘You’re the one who said I’m gorgeous, you slut. I just assumed you’d come back for more’ you teased back. His teeth nibbled at your nape until your back arched and your smart mouth choked. ‘Mm—’
His claws went down to tear your boxers aside. ‘I’m a busy man, sir. I’d like to test what I’m buying before I come running back.’
In a second your body was completely bare, your skin exposed to the cool air of your office. Your enlarged clit was practically swollen, throbbing and aching to be touched. Miguel sheathed his claws and began sliding his hand down and between your thighs.
‘Let’s see what those hormones did, huh?’
You bit down a guttural whine as his calloused finger shifted through your folds. You could feel his breath on your cheek now; he was watching you shudder, watching you bite down your pleasurable response.
‘Looks like it’s working well’ Miguel murmured. It was odd to receive such soft praise from him. ‘Big boy’ he whispered into your neck, right as he pushed your folds aside to gently rub your enlarged clit back and forth.
‘Fuck—’
You’d run out of quips at this point, reduced to a pathetic mess shifting and squirming on his hand. His fingers were rough, and his lips on your shoulder were even rougher. You would have been content to just be teased like this, but Miguel seemed unsatisfied.
After a few minutes of gently stroking it between his thumb and forefinger, Miguel lifted and flipped your body onto its front. ‘Gimme that’ he crudely barked, and before you could even muster a whine he’d thrust his head between your thighs. You cried out as his tongue hit your clit.
‘F- MM! Fuck, fuck- c-careful, ah—’
You were stunned, almost winded by the sudden influx of pleasure. Miguel either didn’t hear or didn’t care; he sucked on you like a starving animal, his full lips ravaging you until saliva and slick was dripping onto the floor.
You quickly became overstimulated by his roughness. He was a bully with his mouth, pushing you until your body started to jolt with little spasms. You begged him to be gentle but he was utterly drunk on your body at this point.
‘Let me- fuck, let me- let me do you’ you begged, a request that finally seemed to get his attention. When Miguel raised his head he was panting, his lips and jaw now shiny with spit and slick. He looked so adorably ditzy with his glazed over eyes.
‘W.. what?’ he stammered.
Now impatient you forced yourself up until you were sat on the desk, your hands fumbling to draw him up too. He stumbled to his feet and watched you yank down his boxers. His cock jolted out, lightly slapping his firm lower belly before flopping in front of your face.
Miguel must have seen your eyes widen, the way you paused momentarily when faced with his girth, because he let out a chuckle as he wiped his mouth.
‘Is there a problem, sir— MM!’
He grunted as you unceremoniously wrapped your lips around him. Your eyes rolled as your mouth was filled with all those toe-curling sensations; the taste of skin, the warmth, the little smear of pre-cum as he throbbed at his sudden intrusion into your throat. You took him until you choked, and then took him a little further.
Miguel instinctively gripped the sides of your head to stabilize himself. ‘Hey, ah- fuck, no ones ever- done this for me befo- HNGH—’
You could hear his stupid claws tearing up the floorboards beneath you as you started to suck back and forth. His hips were bucking like they had a mind of their own.
‘You- why are you so good at this?’ Miguel whined. He looked almost shellshocked as you switched to deepthroating the tip while simultaneously stroking the underside of his balls, perfectly hitting every sweet spot he had.
You pulled back just to reply, letting him gawk at your cum-coated lips and dizzy smile. ‘I’ve- fantasied about it enough times’ you replied. His shock slowly faded in a crude half smile.
‘Uhuh. Whatever you say, slut.’
You hated how you moaned at his degradation. Miguel held you still as he pushed his cock back into your mouth, and the little spurt of precum that hit your throat was proof enough that he liked it too.
‘No, I don’t really mean that’ he murmured as you started to suck on him again. ‘I want you to myself’ he purred, quiet enough that you didn’t hear it. ‘I want you all to myself, pretty boy.’
You let him fuck your mouth until he could take no more. You let him squeeze your throat in one hand so he could feel his girth going down it. You let him pull out and watch you tongue his member. You let him indulge in this moment, the first time someone was brave enough to take this terrifying man into their mouth, as you pampered his cock like a prince.
In the end he only stopped because he was edging himself on the verge of climax, and he refused to cum in your mouth. Not because it wouldn’t feel good, but because he wanted more. He wanted much more.
As he yanked his cock from your mouth he gave you another sloppy kiss, one you eagerly returned.
‘Okay’ he panted between bruising your lips with his own, ‘okay, I am on my knees begging you. Please, let me fuck you, please.’
You didn’t respond. You didn’t need to. You gave his gorgeous lower lip a bite before rolling yourself onto your front, bent over the desk in the perfect position. You grunted as he slapped a firm palm onto your bare right cheek. He’d already lined his cock up with your rear.
‘Dios mio- I’ve waited so long to fuck this. Have you- have you got lube in here?’ Miguel asked, craning his head around the desk. 
‘I- shit, no, I don’t’ you groaned. ‘I didn’t- think of that, surprisingly.’
‘Ah- ah. Right. Ah- fuck.’
Miguel’s hips seemed to be moving on their own. He was trying to hold back; he didn’t want to hurt you, but he was losing his mind at this point. He wanted you to an unbearable degree. His cock was aching to have you, to be inside you, to hold your smooth, warm body in his hands and feel you moan for him. He wanted to ruin you.
‘You… you can use the other hole, if you want’ you grunted, gently shifting your hips until he was pressed against your clenched cunt.
Miguel paused. You felt his trepidation as his grip loosened. ‘Are you sure?’ he murmured, his voice low. You nodded.
‘I- yeah. Yeah. I trust you.’
His grip tightened again but in a more affectionate way. You felt his breath in your hair.
‘Are you sure?’ he repeated. ‘I don’t- it won’t, cause you discomfort?’
You let out a breathy chuckle. Miguel didn’t quite get dysphoria but he tried his best, and the genuine concern in his voice made your heart thud all over again.
‘It's fine for me. Fuck it, I’m bottoming anyway, what’s one hole from another?’ you said with a shrug.
At last, you seemed to have eased his worry. With a soft growl Miguel spread your legs and lifted you into position on your front, slowly pushing up towards your soaked hole.
‘Alright. Alright. I’m going to fuck you now, okay? Just- stay still. Good boy.’
You felt the brush of his tip and instinctively tensed. A shudder ran through you as he pushed it in, beginning the stretch.
‘Ah- fuck, Miguel’ you moaned. You felt him petting your back as he pushed deeper, admiring the little wince you gave.
‘That’s it, you’re doing good.’
He split you open barely halfway in, causing you to squirm.
‘Fuck- ‘s, big, fuck—’
‘You got it, just relax. Ease up for me.’
Miguel was doing his best to be courteous but it was clearly hard for him. His cock was throbbing in a way that hurt, and the only relief in this world was that sweet, tight hole. He wanted to bottom out. He wanted to fill you to the brim and bully your cervix until you begged, he wanted to make you drool. He wanted to cum every inch of his frustration inside you.
But he couldn’t, at least, not right away, because he could see you straining beneath him. So he moved slowly, giving gentle pumps to help loosen your muscles. You felt yourself becoming wetter, your cunt fluttering and clenching as he brushed your internal g-spot.
After a good minute of adjustment Miguel finally fit his fat cock inside you. He’d pushed you to your limit, but he’d fit. He bottomed out with a guttural growl, almost animal in nature, before gasping aloud like a man who just avoided drowning.
‘There- there. Good boy. You took it so well.’
There it was: the feeling you’d dreamed about for so long. You could feel him inside you. You could feel the thick veins throb against your walls, the bulge of his cock so hard that it had utterly skewered you to the spot. When you tried to adjust you felt his claws on your hips, sharp and rough. You panted into the table. You could feel him moving in you.
‘Mm- mm, fuck- you’re so big.’
You felt him throb again, clearly bristled by your praise. ‘You’re so- tight’ he whined. ‘So fucking- soft.’
He started to knead the flesh of your lower back as he moved. You felt the slip of his cock as he shifted just a little, one inch in and then one inch out. ‘So fucking soft’ he repeated almost dreamily. ‘So… fucking tight. Oh M- god, mm—’
You both moaned in unison as he drew all the way out before sliding back in.
‘So good, so good- fuck—’
The big man had been reduced to an absolute mess after barely one move. His thighs were shaking as he clung to your hips. ‘I knew you’d be this tight’ he whined. ‘I knew you’d feel- heavenly.’
‘You been thinking- MM—’ You paused midsentence as he pulled all the way out just to slide back, a sensation so delicious that your toes curled and your foot stamped on the wood.
‘Have I been thinking about you?’ Miguel groaned as he pushed in deep. ‘Of course I have, you beautiful idiot.’
You bit your lip as he started to pump inside you, his pelvis slowly rocking against your upturned hips. You felt each gently slap of his skin against your bare ass alongside his hefty girth slowly dragging against the most sensitive little ribbing on your insides. 
‘Fuck- oh fuck that’s it.’ You gasped as he nudged your g-spot with his member. With no control your muscles tensed and clenched him in a vice-like grip.
‘Lemme- lemme pay you’ Miguel whined, his claws digging into your skin again as that rapturous pleasure overtook him. ‘Lemme pay you please.’
‘How- how much?’
Your breathless teasing made him shudder. ‘Everything’ he panted. ‘Let me- give you everything.’
‘You- ah, fuck, keep doing that. Keep doing that.’ You held back your response just to relish in the feeling a bit longer; you could feel his balls hitting your clit with each thrust, his muscled thighs digging you into the desk until it ached, and that alone was driving you a little crazy.
‘Ah, ‘s so good… you- you were saying, everything?’
‘Every- fucking, cent in my account, you can have it’ he groaned. You could feel him speeding up now, as the skin-on-skin contact was starting to create a low slap that reverberated through the room.
‘Jesus, you sound like a virgin’ you teased, hoping to spur him into action again.
Just as planned you finally felt him bristle.
As if to punish your bravado, he started to get rough. He started pumping hard, his hips snapping as he pounded you into the table. You had to grit your teeth to bear it. The smack of his hips, the sweet ache of his cock stretching you out, the mixture of pain and pleasure as you adjusted to his thick girth.
If you weren’t some kind of spider, you were sure he would have broken your back entirely.
‘Fuck- fuck, careful—’
‘Mm- you were running your mouth before, just- fuck, mm- take it like a man’ Miguel grunted.
‘You’re- fucking huge, you idiot—’
‘You already said that, pendejo.’
His sweet, husky voice dripped like honey as he folded over your back, drawing a pathetic mewl from your lips. You were turning to putty in his hands. You started to arch your hips to push him deeper; the ache was turning pleasurable, and you wanted more.
At that point the pleasure took over, and like animals in heat you gave in. In the timeless capsule that was your office you let him fuck you. You weren’t sure how long you took him exactly, but it felt like it would never be long enough.
Your bodies were pressed together, naked and sweaty beneath the dim overhead light. Like two snakes you were wrapped around each other in a tangle of limbs, your bodies frantically rocking and humping in a messy unison. Muscle on muscle, skin on skin, you felt the sweat from his abs coat your back.
‘Mm- mm, fuck.’ You let him bottom out in your cunt with a glazed over expression. You drooled onto his claws and let him pump all of his frustration into your willing hole. ‘Mm… Miggy, ‘s- so good, mm—’
‘Guapo’ Miguel whined to himself. ‘Muy guapo… Estás tan mojado.’
‘W-What? I’m not that- wet—’
You whimpered as he pushed in deep, eliciting the most perfectly timed filthy squelch from your manic coupling. You felt slick sliding down your thighs to the floor. Miguel’s self-satisfied grunt made your cheeks burn. ‘Mojado’ he repeated in your ear.
He continued to thrust at just the right angle to get more of those sounds. He wanted to hear how wet you were, how wet and desperate he’d made you. You bent over and let him.
Without realizing you’d filled the entire office with signs of your passionate coupling. The echoes of two men grunting, groaning, cursing and begging combined with the violent slapping of wet skin into an erotic symphony, punctuated perfectly by the thick smell of sweat and cum.
Surrounded by this audio-visual cacophony, it was no surprise that you quickly felt your orgasm rising.
‘Ah… Okay, oka—MM—Okay I’m close, I’m close.’
You could feel the pleasure increasing to unbearable degrees, twisting and tightening your insides until you almost screamed. Miguel grunted with pride.
‘Okay, shh- you got it, go on, cum for me pretty boy, cum on my cock.’
‘F-Fuck—’
Miguel wasn’t as experienced as you’d expected, but lucky for you he lucked his way into finding just the right position. He drew back until his cock was angled at that soft ribbed spot on your cunt while his finger wrapped down and between your thighs, eagerly massaging your bottom growth.
He admired the way you squirmed and jolted, the way your muscles gripped him. He felt your ass clench and regretted, deeply, that he couldn’t spank it in this position.
‘Fuck, fuck—’
‘Come on, good boy, cum for me.’
His hips were thrusting desperately as his finger rubbed you out. Your toes clenched.
‘FUCK— fuck it’s so, close, please— YES—’
With a deep moan you finally climaxed. Your body shuddered and tensed as those orgasmic ripples turned your body into an absolute mess, your cunt clenching hard enough that your gushing cum squirted around his cock. Miguel let out a groan of relief.
‘Oh fuck- good boy, yes, yes, that’s it, cum for me.’
In the heat, the passion, Miguel broke. He bent over and utterly crushed you beneath his torso as his finger and shaft continued their manic work, and with a heavy breath he hissed into your ear. It was a territorial display with his teeth on your cheek, pushing you down. 
‘You’re mine’ he barked, barely audible over your dramatic whimpering. ‘You’re mine, you’re all mine.’
You didn’t reply. You were seeing stars, lightheaded from the rush of blood and abrupt tension. You laid yourself against the desk like a corpse as Miguel returned to thrusting right up to your navel.
The overstimulation caused you to grunt a few times, but you didn’t dare ask him to stop. The slightly painful jolts felt too good. Plus, you wanted something more: you wanted him to cum in you.
And god, so did he. Miguel’s mouth had fallen open and he was ramming his cock as deep and hard as he could, forcing the desk to creak beneath you. At one point you heard it snap. He was desperate for this one thing, this itch he had to scratch, this inescapable ingrained need to own you.
He wanted you stuffed. He wanted you filled. He wanted to know he was inside you when you stumbled home later tonight, secretly trying to squish your thighs together so it didn’t drip out and alert everyone to what he’d done to you.
With that mental image filling his head Miguel finally tipped. With a few more rapid humps, his cock throbbed and spurted those first, thick, heavy white ropes inside you.
‘MM- argh, YES—’
You jolted in shock as his claws dug into the desk, sinking into the wood like flesh. With each spurt he thrust deeper, and with each thrust he tore up the wood by your head.
But then, in the daze of being filled, you felt a sudden sharp stinging pain in your neck.
Miguel had given in, and he’d bitten you. He’d sunk his canines into your nape like a cat carrying a kitten, and as he filled you with his cum he filled you with his venom too. His eyes were glazed over, his nose flaring as he huffed hot air against the fine hairs at the base of your skull, and his hips were still pumping erratically to a finish.
You, at this point, were utterly out of it. Your vision was swimming, your limbs numb, and all you could feel at this point was his breath on your back and his thick seed now overflowing from your already stuffed hole.
It took Miguel a moment to come back to his senses, but when he did he retracted his teeth in horror.
‘Shit- shit! Are you okay?! Are you okay?’
Miguel unceremoniously pulled out to check you were still conscious, only to find your body utterly paralyzed. As he stepped back some animal part of his brain begged him to stand and stare, admiring with great arousal the way his cum looked dripping out of you, but his rational and deeply guilty conscience pushed him to instead carry your body to the nearby sofa.
‘Okay, okay, shit- he’s going to kill me when he wakes up- stay here, I’m going to get help.’
In a panic Miguel dragged on his boxers and rummaged through his pants for his watch. There was only one person he could call, but he didn’t exactly like it.
‘Lyla? Lyla, are you there?’
Miguel tried to keep his voice down as he urgently hissed for his assistant. Thankfully she popped in right away, perching on the edge of his wrist with her glasses down.
‘Hey boss! What are you—oh my god.’
Her glasses fell down her nose as her jaw dropped. Her eyes had fallen almost immediately on your naked, paralyzed body now splayed across the sofa, and as they began to roam she was greeted next by a nearly fully naked Miguel and an utterly destroyed office.
‘Are- boss are we burying a body?’ she hissed.
‘NO! No he- my friend- I need the antidote for my venom, please, ASAP’ Miguel hissed back. Lyla rolled her eyes up to stare him down. Beneath her curious gaze he quickly flushed.
‘Your friend?’ she repeated.
‘Yes, he- he is my physio.’
Lyla raised her eyebrows. ‘He’s your employee, friend, and he’s naked on the couch because—’
‘Because- because, none of your- business! Just bring the antidote!’
‘Right. Bring the antidote. For your venom. Which can only transfer via bite. For the naked man on the couch, covered in bite marks.’
Miguel was seething at this point. His nostrils flared as he glared her down.
‘I don’t know what you’re implying, Lyla—’
‘Look, either you tried to kill and eat him, or you fucked him! One of these is a felony, the other is just awkward. I’m just asking which it is so I know if I can joke about this later or if I’m gonna need therapy for the crime I helped you cover up. Did you try to eat him, or did you fuck him? Which one is it?’
Miguel sighed and lowered his head into his palm. ‘I didn’t- I didn’t, try to eat him’ he mumbled. That was the closest to telling the truth he was going to get, and thankfully that was enough for the smug little AI. She gave him a beaming smirk before shifting her glasses back into place.
‘Oo, peachy. Good for you, boss.' 
The little AI vanished amidst a barrage of abuse from Miguel.
Despite her teasing Lyla was true to her word. Within a minute a drone had arrived at the door carrying that precious needle, its insides filling with the only antidote to Miguel’s paralyzing venom. Miguel grabbed it as fast as he could to avoid being seen. He locked the door before hurrying to your side, and after a garbled apology in Spanish he shoved the needle into your neck.
For a few minutes nothing happened. You continued to lie in a state of dream-like awareness, drool pooling from your mouth into the sofa with eyes that saw nothing.
Miguel rocked back and forth on his ankles, his hands gripped together. ‘Come on, come on, please, please—’
‘FUCK!’
As the antidote finally settled in your veins you jolted up in a panic, a move so abrupt that you managed to topple off the sofa right onto Miguel’s anxiety ridden face. You both collapsed onto the floor.
‘ARGH! Argh fuck- I’m alive?! I’m alive! Ah, oh my god- I thought- ahh—’
‘Mierda- ¡Oye! I told you, it doesn’t- kill, it—’ Miguel got through the start of his self-righteous explanation before freezing, as he realized that your fiery eyes had turned on him. Your own nose flared as you sneered at him in disbelief.
‘You….’
You said it slowly as you rose, your finger now pointed at his face. Miguel tried desperately to avoid the temptation to gawk at your naked form as you hissed. ‘You- what, the fuck, man! You bit me?!’
Your anger was only exacerbated as you realized Miguel was, despite his earnest attempts, very overtly gawking at your naked and now cum-coated thighs. You reached out and grabbed him by the jaw. ‘WHAT- THE FUCK, MIGUEL?!’
‘I’m sorry! Mi rey, I’m sorry, just- I can’t control it, okay?! It’s an instinctual thing! I… Bite!’
‘Oh, and that makes it okay?!’
‘NO, just- I’m trying to explain!’ Miguel stammered. ‘Even if I’m just- by myself, I instinctively have to bite something, I was just… caught up in the moment.’
‘Caught up in the moment- jesus christ.’ You used your free hand to reach around and feel the deep puncture wounds on the back of your neck. ‘Are these permanent?'
‘I said I was sorry. You- actually, wait, no- no, you bit me early too!’ In his stubbornness Miguel aggressively pointed a claw at his shoulder, showing the little red indent of your teeth. You flushed violently.
‘That was… That’s not the same!’
‘How?’
‘How- what do you mean, how?’
‘I mean how is not the same?!’
As Miguel wrenched his head from your hand you resorted to grabbing his neck, a gesture he returned. Soon you had each other by the throat, teeth bared and eyes wild.
‘I- bit you because I was—’ You stammered on the admission as Miguel hissed. ‘Because you were horny, and you instinctively wanted to bite me’ he said slowly. You leaned in and bared your teeth right back.
‘You fucking—’
You both froze.
You were nose to nose, still naked and sweaty and hot, now down on the carpeted floor of your office. You panted into each other’s mouths.
All over again, to your horror, you felt your insides throb and tighten. You saw his eyelids droop.
You didn’t even need to tease him this time. His lips hit yours, and without a word you surrendered to what you knew would be another round of mind-blowing angry sex.
You just hoped he at least wouldn’t bite you this time.
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bookworm551 · 9 months
Text
Take the Edge Off | Part 6 | The Bet (1/2)
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When you want to join Miguel for a mission, he places a bet with vague and undoubtedly devious stakes against you.
A/N: I am alive!!!! And I am so sorry this to forever to get done. I had to cut this part in half bc it was fixin to be 12k words long 😅 but the good news is that the next part is practically done and should be posted within a day. Anyways enjoy. If it feels rushed, that’s bc it is.
Warnings: full disclosure, there is no smut in this part (boooooooo) but! The next part is like 90% smut to make up for it :)
5.1k words
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7 Part 8
Part 9
The loss of Earth-2319 changed the atmosphere of the compound. Everyone mourned together in their own ways, and everyone was itching to help catch the anomaly that had caused such massive destruction. Initially, you had been willing to honor Miguel's boundary of not going on missions together. However, when you had seen the recorded simulation of Earth-2319's demise, you felt sick to your stomach.
It had started as one person glitching. Soon after, another glitched, and then another, until everybody was was writhing on the ground in pain and one-by-one all began disappearing. All of the colors contorted in sharp flashes all across the cityscape. You had to look away as confused and terrorized screams tore through the air until there was nothing left except a black screen.
After that, you were determined to be on the team to take down the anomaly. He was smart and elusive, and Spider-Byte and Lyla were both working constantly to track him down, and once they could isolate his location, Miguel and his selection of Spiders would pounce.
Still, it was going to be a challenge getting Miguel to change his mind about letting you come. The day after watching the horrifying footage of Earth-2319, you found him in the control room alone and decided it was the best chance you were going to get to convince him.
He was busy typing away at his monitors when you slung yourself up onto the platform. "Always working," you commented as you approached him from behind. He didn't stop his work to acknowledge your presence. "What do you want?" He asked in a short tone. He had been sharper in his words and attitude to everyone after the incident, even you.
"I just want to talk," you told him casually. His fingers never stilled, and he grunted in response. "I'm working," he told you flatly. You sighed dramatically. "You're always working," you repeated. "When was the last time you slept?"
He didn't answer you for a moment. "None of your concern," he said finally. You raised an eyebrow at him. "That answer is concerning," you said skeptically. "It's starting to get late, why don't you get some rest or take a break?"
He huffed in irritation. "And do what? Sit around and chat with you?" He asked sarcastically. That stung a little bit. "Don't be mean," you told him as you crossed your arms defensively. "I know you have a lot on your plate, but that doesn't mean you can snap at me."
He didn't reply, and his fingers still worked tirelessly at his keyboards. You sighed again. He didn't seem to be in a very generous mood, but you were still determined to be on the team.
You moved to sit on the space next to his keyboard. Though his eyes never moved away from his screen, you could tell he was watching you from his peripheral vision. "We don't have to talk," you told him with in a mischievous tone. "We could do other things instead." Maybe that would soften his resolve. Maybe he just needed to release some tension before he would be receptive to your request.
His fingers finally paused, and though he still didn't look at you, you knew you had his attention. Slowly, as if not to startled him, you reached over and grabbed him by the arm. He let you pull him away from the screens to stand in front of you. He finally raised his eyes to meet yours as you slowly ran your hands up and down his forearms.
"It's okay to give yourself some rest," you told him quietly. "We can go back to mine." His face remained neutral, but he let out a deep sigh. "I'm trying to formulate a plan and a team for the anomaly," he stated, and you noted how exhausted he sounded.
"I could help with that," you offered smoothly, a sly smile spreading across your face. You could see the interest in his eyes at your statement. "Oh, really?" He asked, a barely-perceptible smirk pulling at his lips. "And how's that?"
You bit your lip for a second as you steeled yourself to say what you wanted to say. Given how touchy he had been lately, you weren't sure how he was going to react to you. "You could add me to the team," you finally offered.
Any hint of softness immediately evaporated from his face. "No," he said sternly. "I told you before that you're not allowed to come on missions with me anymore." You let out a disappointed sigh as he pulled his arms away from your hands. "This is different," you insisted. "Everyone wants in on this mission, and so do I."
"And I should let you because we sleep together?" He guessed flatly. You rolled your eyes with an annoyed huff. "No, you should let me because I'm good," you countered. "A lot of them are good," he argued, "and I'm not letting most of them join."
"No, you know I'm good," you countered. "You're going to need me." His eyes narrowed marginally. "I don't need anyone," he shot back. "I could do this alone, but it's smarter to take more people and only the best." He turned away from you to resume his work on his monitor again with a sour expression.
"I am one of the best," you insisted stubbornly. "You know that, too. I've got one of the highest mission success rates, and my stealth is unmatched." It was true. There may be other Spiders who have unique abilities, but you boasted some of the best work out of all of them.
"I could match you," Miguel stated arrogantly. You raised an eyebrow at his remark and said, "No, I don't think even the great Miguel O'Hara could find me if I didn't want to be found." Miguel's working fingers paused, and his head tilted just barely as a thought occurred to him.
"Care to find out?" He asked, his eyes sliding over to your face.
Your eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What do you mean?" You asked slowly. He studied your face for a moment, and you noticed the corner of his lips quirk upward ever so subtly. "You think you can hide from me?" He questioned. "How about we put it to the test."
Your eyes lit up as you understood his challenge. "You want to try to find me?" You asked. "Like hide and seek?" He looked down at you with a disapproving furrow of his brow. "That's a childish comparison," he remarked. You smirked and replied, "But in essence, it's like hide and seek." He held your gaze for a moment before letting out a resigned sigh and admitting, "Fine, like hide and seek but with stakes."
You couldn't resist the smile growing on your face. "If you can't find me, I get to go on the mission," you assumed. Miguel gave a slow nod. "Yes," he conceded, earning an eager grin from you. "Alright," you accepted, "and what's in it for you?" Miguel tilted his head as he looked down at you with a smirk.
"When I find you," he began in a low voice, "I get to do whatever I want to you."
You felt a little thrill flutter up in your stomach. Staring up at him, you could see in his eyes that he was imagining you in a hundred different ways of submission. What sort of things did he have in his mind to do to you? As much as you wanted to be on the anomaly operation, a part of you wanted to find out what would happened if you lost the bet.
"Deal."
Miguel's smirk grew fractionally as he gazed down at you quietly for a moment. "What happened to being busy?" You asked playfully. He gave a small shrug. "You wanted me to take a break," he pointed out. "We better make it worth it."
You smirked at his response as he turned away after a moment to look at his dimensional watch. "Pick a universe," he told you. You raised an eyebrow at him. "Any universe?" You clarified. He nodded and explained, "So you don't accuse me of cheating when I find you."
You rolled your eyes at his comment and thought back to all the different Earths you had been to. After a moment of contemplation, you said, "Earth-57218." It had been the universe you had traveled to on your very first mission, and it's strange beauty left you with a feeling of awe that had yet to be replicated.
Miguel typed in the code for Earth-57218, and the portal appeared before you both. "I'll give you 15 minutes before I go in after you," he said. "Then I'm going in after you." "15 minutes?" You repeated apprehensively. You had been expecting a little more of a head start than that.
He raised an eyebrow at you. "Is that too difficult?" He asked smugly.
Oh, he knew how to get to you, and you lifted your chin defiantly and shot back, "Please, if anything, that's too easy." You immediately regretted saying it because you knew exactly what he was going to say back. "Too easy?" He repeated, feigning surprise. "We'll make it 10 minutes, then."
Dammit.
"Fine," you said, trying to hide the regret behind your stubborn pride. Now, you were going to have to be smart about how to moved through the city. No sightseeing, you had to focus on beating Miguel. You typed in a 10-minute timer onto your gizmo before looking back up at Miguel. "And how long do you have to look before you lose?" You questioned.
He seemed amused by your question. "I won't lose," he responded confidently. "But if it makes you happy, then you'll have until dark." You quickly judged how long until it was dark and figured you had a little more than 2 hours to avoid being found.
"Alright," you agreed. "I'll see you then."
Miguel only watched with a smug grin as you started your timer, and with a quick wink, you stepped into the portal.
Earth-57218 was just as stunning as you remembered. The sky there was almost lilac in color, and the buildings seemed almost like paintings that covered the city. Even the sounds of traffic were almost musical. It was truly a beautiful world.
It took all of your concentration to keep from using up your 10-minute head start to just stare at the city. You immediately began swinging through the air, desperate to put as much distance between you and that portal. Miguel was undeniably good at finding his targets, and you wished again that you hadn't let your pride lessen the time you had to hide from him.
Something you had to keep in mind was the advantages that Miguel had over you. He had a keen sense of smell and a killer intuition, and while you were good at blending in, you were going to need to surround yourself with as many people as possible. Not a problem in a city like this.
Even in the early evening, the streets were packed full of people. You soared above them as you swung from building to building, thinking of places you could go to better conceal yourself from him. Beneath you, the pedestrians seemed trails of ants all bustling about. Where could you go to hide yourself?
You paused your swinging as you perched at the edge of a building to think. There were 8 minutes left on your timer, and you felt the pressure to win weigh down on you. Even from the great height you were at, the sounds of the city filled the air—people, sirens, horns, performers. You wished you could just spend some time exploring the city without the pressure of your bet.
With that thought, an idea occurred to you. "Hey, Lyla?" You called out, not sure if Miguel included the AI program in your new suit. To your surprise and relief, Lyla's yellow form appeared in front of you. "What can I do you for?" She asked cheerfully, looking at you through her heart-shaped glasses.
"I need to blend in," you told her. "Can I modify the suit for civilian wear?" Lyla shrugged. "Sure," she said causally. "What's your style? We have preppy, athletic, business, punk, even gothic." As she spoke, your suit disappeared and was replaced by several different outfits that matched the styles that Lyla had offered.
"Uh, athletic is good," you decided quickly, still conscious of the time ticking away on your watch. Your image flickered until you found yourself wearing what looked like leggings and a dry-fit shirt. Perfect. "Thanks, Lyla," you said gratefully. "Not a problem," she replied with a salute before disappearing.
You dropped down from the edge of the building, catching yourself at the last second before hitting the ground. When you landed in the streets, you immediately joined the current of people who didn't seem to pay you any mind. Keeping a watchful eye on your surroundings, you finally found what you were looking for.
Just like in your own city, there were stairs that descended into what you hoped would be a complex subway system. There was already a massive amount of people bustling about trying to get to their lines, and you noted with pleasant surprise that there were no turnstiles or payment stations. Completely free public transportation, just another reason to love Earth-57218.
You had no real destination in mind, so you just followed the crowd around you and stepped aboard the first train that arrived. Once the doors had closed, you checked your watch. 1:09 and counting. Now, you could only hope that this would work.
Looking up from your watch, you took in the sight of the people on the subway with you. A sea of faces filled the space around you, and you observed each and every one of them with interest. There was a girl across from you reading a book with long pink braids that contrasted sharply with her dark skin. Sitting next to her was an old woman with her large purse resting on her lap, her gray hair pulled back in a tight bun. A business man stood to your left, his clothes pressed and clean as he spoke on the phone in Mandarin. On your right, a young man and woman stood together. You noticed how the girl showed him something on her phone, and together, they started laughing quietly. The woman took her phone back, but the man was still staring at her face with a warm smile, and the love he felt for her was painfully evident in his eyes.
Seeing such a wide diversity of people all around all at different points in their life filled you with a strange sort of nostalgia. You felt like an imposter sitting amongst these normal civilians simply going about their lives. How different would your life be had you not been bitten by that spider all those years ago? Would you be in a successful career by now, not hindered by the endless fatigue that plagued you from your late-night hero work? Would you be carefree and fun if not for the responsibility that came with your power?
Looking back at the young couple, you felt a pang of longing in your chest. You had never been able to settle into a long-term relationship since becoming Spider-woman. The secrets, the late nights, the missed dates, it was all too much for any relationship to survive. Many times, you wondered how you would look at the end of your life—old, gray, and alone. Sometimes, you wondered if you would even make it that far, or if maybe one day, there would be a villain you just couldn't beat. All of these thoughts were like an ever-present cloud in your mind, and there was no way for you to ever communicate it to anyone else. There was nobody who understood what it meant to be you.
But Miguel did.
The thought was like a whisper in your ear. Miguel knew what you had sacrificed. He felt the suffocating weight of being a hero, too. He understood the loneliness that consumed you every day. You could tell yourself that you had only started this undefined, physical relationship out of boredom, that it was just because he was hot and you were horny, but deep down, at the bottom of that calloused thing you called a heart, you knew you longed for a sense of companionship with him.
But what could you have with him beyond the occasional late-night liaison? His work was just as important to him as yours was to you, and neither of you had the time to give to each other the way you wished you could. Besides, Miguel was even more guarded than you were, and other than the brief moments laying on the pillows together as your bodies were buzzing with endorphins, he never seemed willing to let down that guard for you.
You were startled out of your thoughts by the swell of people leaving the subway. Looking around, you realized you had passed all the stops and reached the end of the line, and it was about to start heading back down again. You quickly stood, still reeling from the disconcerting thoughts, and exited onto the platform.
You moved through the crowd as fast as you could without drawing unnecessary attention to yourself. Miguel was undoubtedly somewhere in the city looking for you, and you felt the pressure of his pursuit in your mind. You really wanted to go on that mission.
Now, you had maybe an hour and a half to kill before it was completely dark. What to do, oh what to do. Emerging from the subway stairs, you were immediately swept away by the bustling crowd. You followed down the sidewalk of a busy street full of honking cars. You were tempted to find a way to swing up to the top of the buildings, but you reasoned that Miguel would be looking for you there. On the ground, you were practically invisible.
That thought allowed you to relax somewhat. You had wanted to peruse the city to enjoy the unique beauty it possessed, and now, you allowed yourself to do so. You soaked in the vibrant colors and loud noises all around you. There were performers, tourists, residents, vendors, and many other different types of people everywhere. In many ways, it was like your city, but the subtle differences all around made it still feel like a new world.
You walked for what felt like miles. Though you enjoyed the sights of the city, you still kept a watchful eye on the skyscrapers around for any sight of Miguel. A part of you wished he was there with you just to enjoy the city alongside you, but you knew that was ridiculous. Miguel didn't do fun things, and to do them with you would be too close to having an actual relationship, something he had reminded you several times he did not have time for.
You shook yourself from your thoughts with a sigh. You seriously needed to get a grip. You had been perfectly fine with just hooking up before. Why were you all of a sudden plagued with these thoughts of Miguel?
You answered yourself silently by glancing down at the web shooters, now disguised as thick bracelets, that he had given you. His gift to you had been so generous and unexpected that it made you think that perhaps he saw you as more than just a fuck buddy. In fact, something about your last encounter in general made you rethink everything.
Maybe it was the vulnerability he showed you after the loss of Earth-2319. He had come straight to you for comfort, and even if it was through sex, you still felt that it had meant something. Additionally, he had gotten a glimpse into your personal life by seeing your home, sleeping in your actual bed, not just your little standard-issue apartment at HQ.
And the looks—the softening of his eyes, the subtle smiles on his lips, the one laugh he had given you—each one was tucked away in your memory like a collection of rare, sacred artifacts. Each was made precious through the knowledge that he wasn't like that with anyone else, and you never wanted to stop collecting them.
No, you shouldn't be thinking things like that. You needed to stop. You needed to escape from him, and not just in the way you were doing now by hiding, but also in your mind. There was something about the mundane that made you yearn for a simple life, and you realized how much you would like to live it with him. Surrounding yourself with these blissfully ignorant people was seriously infecting you with this inexplainable melancholy. You needed to get your mind off of these brooding thoughts, and you knew just the way.
The sun was dwindling towards the horizon now, and still, there was no Miguel in sight. You had wandered around the city for a surprising amount of time, though to you, it seemed only a brief few minutes. If you could avoid him for maybe 30 more minutes, you would win the bet. You reasoned that 30 minutes was hardly enough time for Miguel to find you now that you had taken the subway to the other end of the city and wandered around for over an hour and a half.
Glancing around to make sure no one was watching, you slipped into a side alley. You were about to call for Lyla again to change your suit, but as you thought about what you wanted, the suit itself took the initiative to change for you. You stood in awe for a second as your whole body transformed from athletic wear to your spider suit, and you wondered again for the millionth time why Miguel thought to give you such an amazing piece of technology.
Shaking yourself from your thoughts of Miguel again, you scaled the side of the building all the way to the top. From there, you leapt off and began swinging with no particular direction in mind. Up here, you were able to forget about those thoughts that plagued you down below. The wind rushing around you freed your mind of all concerns for Miguel and gave you a sense of confidence that only swinging from building to building could give you.
You finally pulled yourself up to the top of the highest building you could see. You settled down on the edge with your legs dangling over the side of the building. The sun was halfway set already, and the sky was painted brilliantly with pinks, violets, and orange.
It was incredible, truly incredible that you were able to be there, to be in another dimension. You didn't ever express your gratitude to Miguel for letting you join the Spider Society and allowing you to access places like this. Lately, you had been taking it for granted, but as you watched the sun dwindle beneath the horizon, you were filled with a deep sense of gratefulness.
Suddenly, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, and your premonitory senses screamed at you to jump. Without a second thought, you quickly pushed yourself off the building, and right where you had been sitting, a bright orange web appeared.
As you twisted through the air, you caught Miguel's large figure leaping after you. "Sight seeing?” He called out to you as he shot another web at your figure. “Shit," you cursed quietly to yourself. You had been so close to winning. How had he found you out here?
You didn't let yourself dwell on the thought for too long since Miguel was swinging towards you with all of the focused determination of a predatory animal. You let your instincts take over as you hurdled through the air, narrowly avoiding his webs. You tried using your surroundings to your advantage—swinging around halfway-built buildings, turning at the last second through a construction zone, crawling up glass windows you knew he couldn't stick to. Nothing worked, though, and he stayed close behind you.
In that moment, your heart was pounding with the thrill of his chase, and you felt almost giddy at being able to swinging around the city like this without the danger of fighting someone. Miguel of all people was the one who reminded you of how much fun it was to be Spider-woman sometimes.
You saw a bridge ahead that crossed over one of the many channels in the city. Back on your world, you loved perching atop the numerous, large bridges to watch the sunset, so it shouldn't have surprised you that you instinctively webbed over to it, swinging underneath where countless cars were crossing over the water.
"You can't run forever," Miguel shouted behind you. Under your mask, you smiled. He was right. He had found you, and even though the sun had receded behind the horizon, the brilliant twilight still lit up the city, and you recognized that he had won the bet. You sighed in resignation, wishing that you could've gone on the mission to capture the anomaly. Still, you were going to honor your agreement, so instead of releasing your web to continue fleeing from Miguel, you let yourself swing back towards him.
Miguel was still quickly hurdling towards you. With you falling backwards and him moving forward, your webs actually caught together, and your bodies began circling around each other as your webs twisted around like a rope.
You stared at him as you spun around each other, and he stared back at you wordlessly. As your webs wrapped around each other, your bodies grew closer together until Miguel caught you around your waist and pulled you to him. There was a moment of stillness between you as your webs had now wrapped all the way down to your wrists, and you allowed your suit to retract enough to reveal your half-smirking face.
You wanted Miguel to show his face, too, but he just stared at yours for a few quiet seconds before your webs slowly began unraveling. Instead of continuing to let himself spin away from you, Miguel dropped down to the ground below right next to the channel. His suit retracted away from his face as well, and he was looking up at you with a triumphant expression.
Instead of releasing your web to fall down beside him, you pulled your lower body up above your head so that you were upside-down in a characteristic Spider pose. Slowly, you slid down your web until your upside-down face was level with his right-side-up one.
"I won," he told you in a low voice, a faint smile on his lips. You hummed quietly in response. "Really, I surrendered," you argued cheekily. You knew that he had you beat, but you couldn't let him know that. "The conditions were if I found you," he explained, and you could tell he was amused by your attempts to rationalize losing. "And I found you."
"Mmmm, I think they were if you caught me," you countered. "Which you didn't. I surrendered." Miguel raised his eyebrows as he pretended to entertain your argument. "Oh, really?" He said, and you nodded solemnly at him. He took a step forward and gently grabbed your head in his hands. "I caught you now," he murmured quietly, his smirking lips appearing like they were turned downward due to you looking at him upside-down.
"Damn," you whispered, "I guess you did." His thumbs brushed across your cheeks for a second as he studied your face quietly. As the two of you stared at each other, the bustling noises of the city seemed to fade away. The only thing you could hear now was your heartbeat in your ears. You could feel your face growing warm, and you didn't know if it was from being upside-down or from the way his fingers traced over your skin. Finally, in the dying violet light around you, Miguel kissed you.
His lips were a familiar feeling, yet your body reacted like it was the first time. Maybe it was the effects of the adrenaline from his chase, or maybe it was your own stupid emotions getting the better of you. Either way, you felt a fluttering in your chest that was hard to ignore.
As Miguel kissed you, you forgot all about the thoughts that had plagued you earlier. You didn't think about the fears you had with living a double life. You didn't think about the yearning you felt for a connection. You didn't even think about how impossible it was for you to be with him. All of your attention was focused on the way his lips moved against yours.
Finally, he broke away from you, leaving a pleasant hum running through your body. "How did you find me?" You asked quietly, breaking the charged silence between you. One corner of his lips quirked upward. "I'm the best," he replied in an arrogant tone, causing you to scoff and roll your eyes.
His thumbs were still brushing across your skin, and softly, he added, "It's easy when it's you. I could find you anywhere."
His words knocked out any capacity you had to think. You hung there in a flustered stupor, unable to come up with any response to him. Despite your lack of rational thought, you still felt a vague nagging in the back of your mind reminding you that this couldn't last. Why did it have to be him out of all the people in the multiverse for you to feel this way toward?
However, your apprehensive feeling disappeared again when he pressed another soft kiss to your lips. It was shorter this time, but it still left you smiling like a fool. "I still think I should go on the mission," you told him. Miguel gave a small huff of amusement. "Nice try," he replied. "You lost. Now, enough stalling."
You felt a nervous thrill flutter in your stomach as you remembered his conditions of the bet. I get to do whatever I want to you. He stepped away from you to type in his home world into his gizmo while you sighed in resignation. Turning over, you dropped down to the ground beside him as the portal appeared in front of you.
"After you," he said smugly. You rolled your eyes. "Such a gentleman," you huffed under your breath as you stepped into the portal with him following closely behind you.
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twimshi · 1 year
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Shattered Realities Prt.1 (Hobie brown/P!Reader)
ALSO THIS IS A ROUGH DRAFT SINCE IVE NEVER WRITTEN LIKE THIS BEFORE.
What happens if someone from our universe where no superheroes exist, falls into the society of superheroes
"She isn't glitching"
She doesn't remember falling until she feels her stomach flip, her eyes flying open with the multitude of colors that blind her vision as she catapulted.
She also dosent remember screaming but she most definitely was.
"Holy shit-" Her arms are flailed and bent in all types of positions trying to possibly slow her descent as she hits the hard pavement.
It doesn't.
She thinks something pops but pays no mind to it because of the crowd forming around her.
Multiple people in a familiar red jumpsuit surround her vision.
She slowly gets up despite the pain in her left shoulder to examine everything around her.
Before she even tries to run away someone shoots something that reminded her of a tazer she saw in a minions movie once, but without the electric shock part, causing her to fall before her hands were stuck together making her fall on her face.
Though the impact alone didn't hurt her elbow sent a jolt of pain across her entire body making her scream in pain.
"Who is she?" One says on a horse.
Oh my god was she on drugs?
"Is she another Spiderman?" Another who looks almost the same as the other's outfit but blue says.
No way she can't be on drugs.
"Why is she here dressed all normal" A talking Lego says.
So many questions were asked before someone pulled her upright by a strong person, he kind of looked like a bear.
She considers the idea of her being on LSD at this very moment.
A really buff one in fact.
Who was also wearing a skin-tight suit?
He summons, well calls some robots to do a scan on her which sends a little shiver down her body.
The machine speaks "Foreign entity, no universe"
This sends the crowd of people into a frenzy, are they people? Probably some weird nerds.
Why are so many lights?
The strong angry teddy looing man manages to calm everyone.
"Who are you?" He says not even introducing himself, what a rude bear she thinks to herself.
So many red people.
Her eyes hurt.
Her shoulder hurts.
She wants to vomit.
Her head lolls to the back, something he recognized making his heart almost drop before going back to interrogation mode "Kid answer- Hey, hey hey don't just fall!"
She vomits and passes out.
-
".............We can't find out where she's from"
"............Maybe your system is bugged"
"............Maybe your brain is bugged"
Then the door closes when she hears someone complain about them being too loud and hears whoever that was talking stomp out.
She groans waking up, throwing off the blanket that was kindly placed on her, and stretches her arm - was it fixed? "Can you guys keep it down, my head hurts"
"You're awake" The one with The hijabi says, coming toward her "How did you get here?"
"I just fell?"
"Fell?" The girl in twin buns said before retracting her words "I'm Byte by the way, but is that all you remember before you fell? Like can you at least tell us your name so we can narrow down your location?"
"Yeah, it's..." Her heart drops.
Her brain is swirling on itself.
"My name is..."
The two share a look that makes her play with her hair nervously, trying to figure out what was happening.
Her body feels empty all of a sudden.
Sun-spider who has entered the room for nothing other than snooping coughs (who has not introduced herself by name) to try to break whatever nervous silence that was forming "As much as I love suspense, please tell us. I gotta get the ice cream machine working again"
She tries again, this time she's clawing her hair to grasp on anything - but every time she seems to get closer to anything, the memory falls into itself.
A nervous smile exits her lips.
It seems like the static in her head becomes louder and louder.
"I don't know..."
Byte raises a brow in concern, checking her head for injuries while questioning her "What do you mean you don't know?"
"I just can't, I don't remember anything" She says, all of the uncomfortable aura leaving her in an instant like a reset button.
Essentially returning her back to her ditsy self.
But Byte isn't convinced
"Are you sure?" She says moving closer to her and turning on another device to scan her heartbeat in case she was lying.
"Yup" The girl replies her bright mood suddenly lifted, which the others found odd, but she spins her head around "Where is the scary guy?"
"Why are you asking?" Byte says
"Just so I can avoid him, he scares me"
Byte chuckles and turns off her device, grabs the other girl, and shakes her head.
"He uh...A little rough on the edges"
The girl nods suddenly like she gets it "Like a cool brooding backstory?"
"Brooding?"
"Ah you know like usually that's what you describe an angry old person with a backstory that made them all like lonely and sad when originally they were a happy and nice person"
Malala nods trying to understand the girl, but also invested in anything about that is about Miguel.
"I haven't read a book in ages so it's like a character thing" Byte tries.
"Yeah! It's like that..."
"What's wrong?"
"Just remembering something, I used to write fanfiction"
Malala claps her hands seemingly finding it amusing as Byte signals the girl to continue "And?"
The anomaly girl looks slightly confused, what else was she supposed to say? "And that's all"
"That's all you remembered?"
"Yup, I used to write stuff like ship stuff that was a little canon divergent I think? I don't remember-"
Malala jumps onto the girl "Dont say that out loud again"
The girl looks at her and Byte whose expression was similarly as frightened as the Hijabi.
"But it-"
"Remember big Bear man?" The girl nods and lets Byte continue "Well he is rather....what's the word"
Malala awkwardly twidles with her headscarf "...Sensitive"
Byte nods "Yup that word, he's already worked up about you being here. I don't think he is getting much sleep so we need to just ban that word"
"Yup, banzo it" Malala adlibs on top of the girl.
Byte feels a lightbulb appear on her head "Why not we just talk about hobbies to try to get you to remember stuff about yourself so we can narrow your universe's location now?"
The anomaly girl gasps "You want to talk about my hobbies? Wow " She stays silent for a moment before saying "Wait universe?"
-
Somehow they've only found three things after three hours.
"So we narrowed down your universe with the little information you gave us about...Whale calling noises and the Lorax musical with the deleted song biggering"
"Hey, the noises whales make are cool and doesn't every universe have a deleted Lorax song?"
"Well, a couple but most of them use 'Biggering' in the musical number"
"But that's like the best song ever. Does my universe just suck?"
"Maybe" Byte shakes her head "We're getting sidetracked, is there anything else you remember?"
"Nope. Anyways, back to the Lorax-"
Miguel cusses something inaudible in Spanish when he overhears the conversation and calls Lylla "Did you do a scan on her yet?"
"Already did" He groans and signals her to continue "She showed no signs of memory loss or even anything developing like dementia"
He looks back at the scene, of the glitch he likes to call rambling to Byte about the amazing soundtrack that is 'Biggering'
"Lylla scan possible universes with minimal to no superheroes"
"Gotcha"
-
Jessica comes back from a mission thinking she can just report to Miguel that her mission went smoothly and go home, she always thinks that "You're telling me you just want to drop the girl to a random universe?"
"Ideally, no. But we need to then yes" He said, catching her up on the situation that happened while she was out.
She watches Miguel pace back and forth "Won't that affect the canon?"
"From the information I gathered from Malala and Byte who are getting along with her just fine. She says that Spiderman is fiction where she's from, from what she remembers at least. There were many but with her knowledge of her musical we managed to narrow down surprisingly three potential universes"
Jess nods at this information and watches the security footage to analyze how she got here in the first place until she notices something abnormal and zooms into the anomaly girl and rewinds the video.
She calls for Miguel and replays the footage, which he replies with "Dont bother I've rewatched that footage and analyzed all the portals"
"Please tell me you at least noticed this"
"Notice what?" Miguel has not had time to take an actual look in the mirror for a couple days due to a new anomaly from earth-1048, a video game anomaly, nothing new, but another headache.
Jess zooms into the anomaly girl for the rest of the footage "She isn't wearing a wrist band"
His eyes widen, she's right.
Since she's arrived here, she has never glitched.
Not even once.
Thats...impossible
"What do we do now" Jess says equally as distraught as him.
Miguel sends a quick text to Byte and gets an immediate reply then looks back at Jess "I don't know either, but Byte is running a few tests on her while she naps with her and I quote 'Enthusiastic consent'. Everyone was so shocked by her being a non-spiderperson and since she never glitched no one noticed"
Miguel takes a very slow exhale to think.
If she wasn't glitching then she can't be an anomaly.
Maybe that was a glitch on its own?
He notices Jessica scanning his face for a response, so he gives her one "Let's just put it to rest for now, since she isn't causing any trouble" He had stayed up monitoring the activity of the universes that involved Spiderman.
She nods her head, seemingly tired out for the day also, before she leaves a question pops up in her mind You said that you narrowed down her universe to three, that's a tight deduction. What musical was it? Hamilton?"
Miguel does not want to say the ridiculous cartoon name but says it anyways "......It was the Lorax"
Jessica almost snorts when she leaves the room leaving him alone.
He might as well get some sleep while he can.
-
After he knocks out for a thirteen-hour nap, Miguel looks at the anomaly girl and is reluctant on how to call her while she's converting with Malala and Byte so he just barges in and calls out "Girl"
The three girls turn to him with a confused expression.
"The one that's not Spiderman"
They all make an oh noise.
"Webby tie your shoe lasses you might trip" Says Byte.
"You remember your name?" Miguel is almost hopeful.
She placed her hand on her hip "Uhm no? I just named myself Webby since all of you have web designs on you"
Miguel is hopeless.
Anomaly girl- no Webby says with sass with her hands on her hips after poorly tying her shoe lasses like it's a fact that everyone should know but Miguel certainly does not seem to care enough.
He tosses her an empanada from the cafeteria which she catches, he notes her reflex "Eat something now because we're going"
"Goinsh?" She asks while chewing.
"Yes going" He cringes at her and gives her a tissue to wipe her face, she blows her nose instead "Just eat some motion sickness pills before we go"
Webby rolls her eyes but nods at the tall man as he still intimidated her, so she quickly finishes her food and gets some pills before meeting up with Jessica Drew, who had a small bump on her belly.
It was either bloating or that she was pregnant, Webby didn't want to ask but she thinks it was the after when Jessica held her stomach in a cradling motion.
Webby made sure she mentally remembered every single detail about this place so she could never forget it in her brain.
Jess looks at the girl whose eyes were becoming a little bugged out and red from how much she was forcing the open to take in the view.
"You know you can just take a picture right?"
She finally blinked her eyes in pain "Ouch, I would if I had a phone. It might have fallen when I was uh...Falling through the portal"
"I'll make sure we do a full sweep of the place to find it"
The girl's eyes widen and profusely thanks her hand as they walk "Thank you so much"
"Likewise, we can walk slower, just so you can get a good look at everything"
And that's exactly what they did, Webby is sure to talk about this to her friends (If she can remember them) about this.
Something catches her eyes in the distance, it was a boy whose entire border was changing as if he was made out of scrapbooks, his ears adorned with piercings.
As he played the guitar, every new strum seemed to change his color palate.
Webby couldn't help but stare
Jess also couldn't stop staring, mostly because she was telling him that his guitar was untuned.
He yelled back something about consistency and groaned when Jess told him to show the newbies around saying "I'm doing this because I like to see newbies, not because you told me to"
For a split moment, they both retain eye contact before Jess pulls her aside to go to Bytes lab because they needed to go.
Byte, Malala, and Sun Spider share a hug before Miguel calls for her and opens a portal, coincidently what she can assume emo punk was in the room bringing what she can assume is a newbie.
"Hobie what are you doing here, we're kinda busy" He says tiredly.
The guy who she assumed was Hobie just shrugs "You told me to show 'em newbies around, just gotta grab one on these and this-" They all were staring at him "Just imagine that 'm not here"
Miguel ignores him and offers Webby a hand to grab which she accepts reluctantly and waves goodbye to her short-term friends who waved back.
Once they reach the other universe Miguel readjusts his armband and looks for Webby to find her on the ground.
"Don't tell me you got sick again, I told you to take the medicine-"
But he dosent finish his sentence because Webby was glitching.
He wanted to help her up and call Lylla until she let out an excruciating scream like she's been stung by something and cradled her stomach. The pain was travelling all over her body as if she were electrocuted in the rain.
Webby doesn't know what's happening or what to feel other than the pain that surrounds her, she dosent even realize she isn't in control of her body and is slamming herself on the floornofnthe hard roof.
Miguel rushed to open a portal as her body was quickly becoming translucent.
The same type of translucent he's all too familiar with and grabs her to the portal.
She can't bare to open her eyes, her irises were stinging.
It was a bodily reaction, he wasted no time to grab her.
"That was quick-Oh God" Jess frantically calls for help
Webby thinks breathing slowly stabilizes because her body isn't burning , but not relaxing.
"Get the medic, now" Webby thinks the scary bear yells something.
Her eyes close, and finally, her body stops hurting when a mask is placed over her head as the coloured lights she thinks she sees now dissappear as her consciousness.
-
"What exactly happened out there"
"I.." He rubs his temples "Don't know"
Jess looks over to Webbie's vitals as Byte observes them carefully and Malala watches her from a distance.
Jess hasn't known Webbie for a long time but the gas mask on her face irks her so she tries one more time "Miguel, what happened out there"
"She stopped glitching only when we came back but was glitching hard when she got to the other universe, but not like normal" He looks at Jess's shocked face knowing Miguel spoke from experience as he continued his sentence.
"It was like her body was collapsing into herself"
HI AUTHOR HERE, this isn't my first fanfic but I haven't really written in this type of format (Also I'm bilingual so my English might be not epic) so it might be wonkey (I write mostly self-loathing type of things) I might or might now make this whole thing int a mini series of 6 chapters. ALSO I JUST GOT A JOB?! So if I do make it into a miniseries plz be patient because the 10 hour shift is no joke
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artsy-hobbitses · 30 days
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Just finished watching X-Men 97 Ep 7 (I love having a series to look forward to on a weekly basis again! Excited to get a good dinner and sit down for half and hour of getting WHIPLASHED by all the new reveals and emotions. It's such a nice thing to look forward to inthe mid-week slog as well)!!!
Thoughts and spoilers below!
They REALLY went all out with Gambit's funeral, and it was nice seeing Nightcrawler carrying out priest rites for the brother-in-law he could have had. Jubilee's anguished anger at Rogue not being there HURT
Holy shit ROGUE. VERY Rogue-centric episode, and it's pain pain PAIN evbery other minute. Her absolute disdain for Captain America not wanting her to be on his team to check out Gyrich because of the tense situation/'optics' is 100% understandable, I stand by women's rights and Rogue's Wrongs in this case. Also her backhanding him with the "America's Top Cop" label, she taking no prisoners this week.
Beast gently but sternly calling out Trish the reporter about how 'tolerance' simply isn't enough anymore and it was a low bar to set for mutant-human relations to begin with, and how he's aghast at the idea of having to give a calming/professional sound byte or something to try and quell mutant protests and demonstrations worldwide after what happened, after MILLIONS OF THEM DIED is. Very relevant. To certain current events. He's been trying SO HARD to be the sweet, professional one, but he is tired and he is sad and he doesn't have it in him to ask for the bare minimum anymore or tell his people they don't have the right to feel the way they do.
We get Diamond Emma! No clue as to whether the massacre has changed her outlook on life since her appearance was during a brief rescue moment where Cyclop's hopes that Madelyne could have survived (Jean said she could feel a telepath under all the rubble) got crushed, but hopefully that'll be answered in the next ep!
Sunspot finally coming clean to his mum about him being a mutant! She seems like a very sweet lady who clearly loves him and takes it VERY WELL, but immediately she's like "Our family is established and in the spotlight, your father's business can't afford this sort of publicity. The world won't accept you, especially given what happened, so we have to find a way to hide this from the public, and that includes cultivating a list of people you can associate with". Which feels like it could be relevant to today's queer acceptance where it's like "On a personal basis I love you and accept you for who you are, BUT..." as an evolution from the X-Men movie's "Have you ever tried... not being a mutant?"
There is a LOT of talk about 'optics' in this episode, which feels VERY TIMELY. And VERY POINTED. How President Kelly apparently wants to send aid to Genosha, but doesn't do it to the fullest extent because he's worried about the political optics from 'normal humans' who are now afraid of an all out human-mutant war, and argues that he's doing his best here and that he needs suppport to stay in office to ensure a 'worse' person for mutant advocacy doesn't step in (I'm not going to lie. Very Democrat argument for why their man should stay in office---look at the boogieman who might be there if they aren't, instead of dealing with issues head-on) . And Cyclops's civil but seething rage at that because this is NOT a time for subtleties or politicking MILLIONS OF MY PEOPLE ARE DEAD.
Nightcrawler comforting Rogue and letting her just bawl openly in his arms during Day of the Dead ;; My heart.
Rogue kills a man. Or, helps him to his death, I'm not sure how you categorize this when Trask was already attempting to jump off a building out of guilt anyway, and she stepped in to stop him, only to let go when he said he had no other info for her (she had initially told him to help them to redeem himself). Again, 100% understandable, I support Rogue's Wrongs, and I LOVE how dark they're taking this, watching our girl step closer and closer to the abyss from her rage and grief and just plunging into it. Also her screaming that Trask deserved it for killing a great man, "MY MAN!!!!!". Whoof.
KNEW Mags wasn't dead. Going to be fun seeing WHAT Bastion plans to do with him now.
Again, STELLAR episode, a good 9/10 from me!
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luveline · 11 months
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hi hii jade! i hope to not bother u at all but can i ask a request for miguel being with harley quinnfem!reader? like she’s sweet, giddy and a bit girlish but at the same time vicious and extremely violent. maybe miggy likes it a bit too much being with her but gets annoyed seeing her tiny outfit during the mission. u don’t have to do it if u don’t wanna! thank you !!🤍
thank you for your request, i love it!! I'd love to write more for this pairing ♥
—harley quinn-esque fem!reader reports for duty wearing less material than usual, to miguel's misfortune. 1k
"And what," Miguel says, looking you up and down apprehensively, "is the point of that." 
It should be a question, but it doesn't sound like one. He is genuinely shocked by what you're wearing, among other things, and it takes a lot to shock him. Your top half is decent in sense of the word, a skin tight black t-shirt with a pink spider taking perch on your sternum, legs curved over and under the shape of your breasts. Your skort (and it better be a skort, or Miguel is in trouble) is high-waisted and matching in black. A slice of your midriff exposes itself when you move. 
"You don't like it?" you ask, putting on a pout that shouldn't suit you but absolutely does. 
"It doesn't do anything." 
"Well, I figure there's no need to conceal my identity when we're visiting other dimensions," you explain. 
Miguel thinks the thing that irks him most about you is that your sweetness —made up of pretty smiles and girlish whims— is authentic. You tease and twirl, you're prone to dramatics and theatrics alike, but you genuinely are a very loving girl. Especially toward him. 
"It doesn't conceal much of anything." 
"Are you trying to say something mean?" you ask. 
"Depends on your definition." 
"Could you say it in Spanish?" you ask.
"Why?" He crosses his arms across his chest, looking down his nose at you in a look he hopes says you aren't half as subtle as you think. 
"Please, Miguel." You frame your face in two hands, long, naked lengths of your arms shining with a shimmery lotion in the laboratory lighting. "Indulge me." 
Don't I always? he thinks. "Depende de cual sea tu definición," he says. "Tu atuendo es más cruel que cualquier cosa que pueda decir." Your outfit is crueller than anything I can say.
"I hear 'cruel,'" you say, "but surely you can't be talking about me?" 
"The portal's ready," Margo says, a purple image in the corner of his eye. 
"Thank you, Spider-Byte," he says, nudging you toward the platform. For the work and the end of a dangerous conversation.
You rush up onto it and Miguel follows, ignoring the spin you make with your face turned up, watching as the portal begins to form around you, orange fractals that lock you in. 
You project from one place to the other. It's best to take a running start, and there's yards to be traversed until you meet the rendezvous point. 
"Where's the Vulture?" you ask excitedly.
"Around. Watch out, he might have Tinkerer with him." 
"Two for the price of one!" 
You stretch your arms up high, exposing your stomach, fine hair shimmering in the sunshine. Miguel's annoyed because he's weak enough to be distracted, but he'd rather blame you. 
"The point of your suit was to keep you safe," he says. "I designed it to protect you." 
"I like my skirt much more," you say, spinning again. 
So does Miguel. He looks up into the sky with a scowl, confused as to where the Vulture and his henchmen are. They're supposed to be right here, which can only mean— 
You leap for Miguel with your baton extended, the little heart sceptre piece atop of it striking the Vulture square in the jaw as the villain descends. With a spatter of blood, a shining white tooth flies across the open air, and you love it. You shake with excitement, his hands against your ribs to stop you from falling. 
"Yes!" you cry, jumping out of his arms and whacking the Vulture again. You're lucky: you manage to hit him in the eye as he retreats, prompting an outraged and pained scream that shakes the trees surrounding. "You suck!" You batter him like he's a pear under your pestle. 
"Y/N, that is more than enough," Miguel chastises, though the sight of you satisfied and in control is one that twists his guts. 
"Box him in, Miguel!" you call, blood dripping down the sceptre and onto your bare hands. 
"Woah." A third voice echoes as feet touch down to the ground, the wet thwap of webbing like an anchor, the Tinkerer deposited at Miguel's feet. "Who the hell are you guys?" asks Spider-Man.
"It's hard to explain," you say. 
"It's not," Miguel says. 
"Is she… on our side?" Spider-Man asks, eyes of his suit widening with a mechanical clicking. 
"When she wants to be." 
"I'm definitely on Miguel's side!" you say, raising your baton to give the downed Vulture another whack. He groans and raises his hands. You giggle at the fear on his face and twirl your baton around in a circle above your head. "Just kidding." 
"Y/N, come here. Now." He wouldn't be so forward in his command if you weren't as prone to ignoring him as you are. 
You traipse to his side, putting your hands on your hips to mimic him. 
"That was quick, huh?" you ask, looking up into his face. No matter your act, he can see the want for approval in your eyes. 
"Eres muy linda," he says. You're very cute. 
"What does that mean?" you ask, eager for praise. 
"You did great," he says. 
"I think you're lying," you say, and his heart skips as you lean into his space with a knowing smile, "'muy' means I did really great, right?" 
"Actually–" Spider-Man begins. 
Miguel waves a hand at him. "You did really great," he confirms. He doesn't need Spider-Man telling on him.
"And I didn't need all that extra protection after all," you say, sliding under his arm. 
Miguel doesn't react. The Vulture groans and Spider-Man hits him with a web to make sure he doesn't get far. 
"You like it really," you whisper.
Miguel glares at you. Of course he likes it. He just hates how much danger you're potentially putting yourself in. He double hates the appreciative up and down Spider-Man gives you when he thinks no one's looking.
"You have blood in your hair," Miguel says. 
"You can wash it out for me." 
He takes a calming breath. 
"Hey, guys? Do you mind explaining what the hell is going on here?" Spider-Man asks. 
You both ignore him for different reasons, you with an adoring smile sent Miguel's way, and Miguel with a long-suffering sigh as he summons a temporary entrapment for the bloodied Vulture and his squirming lacky.  
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under-lore · 9 months
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Hello, so i wanted to Ask you, what was that about in the "jugement hall" when chara (chara narrator theory) explain to us what is exp, lv, ect and at the end of their explaination sans take the lead, like he kind of continue what they where saying, like he Heard Chara and just waited for his turn to talk, i mean it just felt kinda off that no one noticed that or maybe i'm just crazy, well good day to you.
Good day to you as well.
For your question, Sans doesn't actually "take the lead" from the narrator here, neither does he wait for them, and so for a very simple reason.
The narrator is not the one that explains the meaning of EXP, LOVE, etc...
That was already Sans himself speaking. Both before, and after his face sprite was shown. He's just continuing what he was himself saying.
This is actually a surprisingly common mistake made in multiple different situations where the dialogue of a character speaking without a face sprite (but who usually has one) is confused with that of the narrator.
Let me explain...
In Undertale, characters which usually have a face sprite next to their dialogues often lose this face sprite whenever they are talking from a position in which they are not visible, are hidden, or sometimes for tension or dramatic effect.
Here is an example :
Papyrus usually has a face sprite.
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But in this scene at the entrance of Waterfall, however, he speaks without a face sprite for the reasons mentioned above. (Notice his face is in the dark, for example)
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What is happening here with Sans is pretty much the same thing.
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Sans' sprite is shown as hidden, and the tension is palpable. So, the conversation begins with Sans speaking with no face sprite, but the face sprite appears once the dramatic tension begins to fall back down.
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Besides, it is pretty easy to see that Sans is the one talking even without the sprites, with lines like that :
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(As a side note : This scene actually has more effects added due to the situation, such as with sound bytes or font. Though it ultimately comes down to the same.)
There are actually several scenes throughout Undertale that have sparked confusion because of this exact same reason !
I'll give another one, which many have also gotten the wrong idea about :
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This, as you may have guessed at this point, is also not the narrator speaking, but Asriel himself. As a matter of fact, you can even hear Asriel's sound bytes as those lines are spoken.
But due to the absence of a face sprite and NarraChara theory, many have misinterpreted this scene when seeing it again as a collection of screenshots as if it was Chara which had said those things. Which is incorrect.
In sum, it is actually semi-frequent in Undertale for characters that usually have face sprites to speak without them in certain circumpstances. That is why, when attempting to recontextualise certain lines under NarraChara theory, it is important to be able to identify which lines are actually from the narrator, and which ones are not.
Those lines are not, it is just Sans talking.
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