#miguel o'hara g/t | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

smolcinnamonchipmunk · 9 months

Text

To Catch a Grasshopper

(I wholeheartedly blame @a-weird-tiny for this. I showed them Hopper, and she immediately said that she wanted Borrower!Hopper to get in a cat and mouse chase with Miguel for acting like a nuisance (my words)/brat (her words), and she gave me a line that kickstarted this whole thing. Might draw something for it at some point because I now have a new brainrot.

There are now five men in my brain jostling for attention, and it’s getting rowdy. Also, sorry if anything seems OOC for Miguel, I only know what the movie provides which is a grouchy, broody man, though I think I wrote him softer than anything else the fandom has right now. All I know is ‘angry latino/a’ is a stereotype I’m very tired of being taken to the extreme considering I’m Hispanic and, like, being angry isn’t his only personality trait.)

Count: 5758

TW/CW: Soft, safe G/t vore, a bit of fearplay/worry of being killed "You're pouting again."

"I am not," came the gruff answer. Just like they expected from their current companion as Hopper settled on the edge of the console desktop, crossing one leg over the other and using their knee to rest their elbow and perch their chin in hand. Purple faded in their brown eyes as they smirked up at the back of the looming figure leaning over the console on the other side of the platform.

Miguel O’Hara let out a heavy sigh that was more akin to a growl, a rather common greeting he gave them whenever they popped up during work. Then again, they didn’t know where he lived outside of this place, so showing up at his work was the only way they knew to see him without being creepy.

His shoulders slumped slightly with the exhale, muttering something under his breath - likely to brace himself for tolerating their presence - before turning around to look at them. Orange from the console screens around the platform pronounced his facial features, glinting off of his red irises and spidersuit. Which was already glowing in the red parts, so the whole platform was a delight of warm colored neon.

Hopper would have preferred they were cooler colors. The Spiders had blue in their motif, why not use that?

They were still pretty impressed when his eyes almost immediately fell on their sitting form at the edge of the desk. He was a very large man by normal standards, towering over most humans with ease, but he was absolutely massive compared to their diminutive height of three inches. Still, superhuman senses enabled him to easily pinpoint their position. He might not have been brooding, but he had a very naturally tired and brood-y face.

“I’m assuming it’s too much to ask you to leave me alone for the day,” Miguel said tiredly. Already his voice was laced with stress and general grouchiness, but they couldn’t really remember a time he’d greeted them with a wide smile. It wasn’t really his style. Small smiles, occasionally.

To be fair, he was probably the one Spider they liked annoying the most. It was easier than most of the other Spiders, but he also dealt with a whole society of wise-cracking chatterboxes, so he also had a surprising amount of patience with them.

“You assume correctly,” Hopper chirped proudly from their spot, asymmetrical earrings dangling from their proclamation. One was a blue-gemmed planet in a golden hoop, the other a gold star with a blue gem center on a piece of gold chain that dangled it down to their chin. With a mischievous look, their eyes flickered purple and their form wavered with purple sparks, feeling a warm pins-and-needles kind of feeling running through their body. In a blink, they went from sitting at the edge of the console desktop to flickering into existence atop one of the monitors closer to the man, legs and hands on top as they dangled the rest of their body upside down to look at him.

His gaze quickly followed the brief purple flash of their appearance.

“I can’t just leave my very best Spider friend alone with his brooding thoughts,” they added playfully sweetly, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of blood rushing to their head. “Besides, I’ve been gone a week. Can’t say I didn’t give you a break.”

“If only it was longer,” the Spider grumbled, turning away with a proper growl this time. He began to work on the screen he had previously been using, fingers sliding across the orange glow.

“Aw, c’mon,” Hopper said, teleporting to stand on the top of the monitor being used. Almost immediately, Miguel made a lazy attempt to snatch at them, making them teleport to the screen right next to it. This time, they appeared with their hands on their hips with their eyes narrowed at him.

He’d found out pretty quickly when they first met that, frustratingly enough for him, they could teleport too quick to be grabbed. Which was good for them because they had time to iterate that they were VERY fragilè. No superhuman strength or durability to be had here, AND they were tiny in comparison. One overzealous grab could probably kill them.

“And I DON’T brood,” Miguel added with a light glower before lowering the hand that went to grab them back to the screen he was focusing on. His eyes followed suit, trying to return his focus to his previous work.

“I think a bunch of Spiders and I would disagree.”

This close, they could see a small quirk at the corner of his lip as he replied, “Just because you and a few other Spidermen think I brood doesn’t mean you’re right.”

Hopper stood waiting for him to continue, but he didn’t elaborate or tack anything on, making them groan a bit in irritation. They teleported back onto the monitor he was using and he didn’t move to snap at them or grab them again. He seemed rather intent on ignoring them. With a huff, they spread their arms out and said, “C’mon, man. I dimension-hopped here. OBVIOUSLY. I don’t wanna go home and basically tire myself out for nothing!"

"Then go bother someone else to pass the time, I’m busy."

They frowned at the rather reasonable response, defiantly declaring, "I don't want to. And when AREN’T you busy?"

They felt a bit of satisfaction as he closed his eyes for a second and frowned. They thought he had anger issues. He did, maybe, but they definitely didn't help. But, if they left him alone, he would just stand here, brood, and bury himself in his missions and self-appointed job. He was a chill guy but they worried about him self-destructing sometimes in his work, even if their version of worrying and action was trying to get under his skin to distract him from everything else.

That, and Hopper - despite enjoying the sense of humor and more upbeat nature of the other spiders - found them to be easily overwhelming and loud in their own ways, so they felt like they'd be drained quickly. One on one was fine depending on the Spider, but this was literally a SPIDER HUB. The chances of finding many Spiders on their own was slim, and slimmer still was finding a Spider they liked or gathering the nerves to introduce themself to an unfamiliar Spider. Jess was fun, but she was usually out as well, either on mission or home. All the Spiders came and went.

Except Miguel, sometimes. Maybe he lives here, they didn’t know.

He wasn't exactly the friendliest, or most fun-loving, and he was fucking TERRIFYING when he yelled or got too stressed (they teleported out of the room the few times he'd snapped at them), but he was here the most often, was usually pretty quiet, and was alone with manager-y kind of stuff, except like a weird Spider crime department that specialized in dimensional stuff.

"Have you talked to the Therapist Spider yet," Hopper asked without any snark or provocative inflection, sitting down and absentmindedly kicking their feet lightly. Their legs probably barely blocked any of the screen, but it was enough to draw his attention when he opened his eyes once more.

"No, and I don't need to. You're worse than LYLA about asking that."

"Well, I still say you should go talk to him. Just once, at least! Everyone needs therapy, you Spiders especially. Or, I don't know, get a hobby," they suggested, not for the first time. They knew that LYLA made similar comments, but Miguel wasn't in charge of Hopper.

They shifted so that they laid on top of the monitor, raising their wrist above them to watch their bracelet beads sway slightly and glint in the orange light. It wasn't very comfortable since the monitors were pretty thin, but they didn't care too much. They huffed and added, "You're going to make yourself insane by just doing this all day. I'm bored to tears just watching."

"Then go home," Miguel suggested back. “Besides, I’m too busy for hobbies. Or, small annoyances trying to distract me from, again, working.”

Alarmingly, the monitor they were laying on and the one he was using was suddenly jerked to the side, causing them to jolt off the side with a panicked yelp. Instinctively their body kickstarted a teleport, body flickering purple before they appeared at the console desktop. Their instincts made them materialize upside-down, using the momentum from their fall to 'fall' upwards into a standing position that had them flailing their arms for a second to avoid falling on their back anyways. They stood there frozen for a second from the brief fright, looking up to see Miguel chuckle a bit as he fixed the monitor back in place and continued.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKER," they hissed as they teleported back up to the top of the monitor, but there was a smile playing at the corners of their lips. "Not fair that you can just knock me off my perch! I'm wasting my Hops here, man."

"Not fair that you can teleport yourself unilaterally transdimensionally and transspacially out of reach and consequences while you sit there and distract me from my work," he replied. He still seemed stressed and grouchy, but there was the barest of difference from before, the slightest amount of loosening up. “Now, cállate.”

"First of all, they're not transdimensional or whatever transports, they're HOPS," Hopper stressed the rather simple word compared to his complicating ones, resettling on top of the monitor as they ignored him telling them to be quiet. This time they didn't lay down, just sitting up and keeping an eye on his hands in case he wanted to be a funny guy again. "And secondly, you're ALWAYS working. It's not healthy, you know."

They were one to talk considering their horrid life habits, but Miguel didn't need to know about any of that.

"If I don't keep charge, who will," Miguel scoffed a little, though they knew he had no ill will towards the other Spiders. He just wanted to take the brunt of everything for everyone.

Hopper realized this was one of the few times his wristwatch-machine-thing wasn't going off every minute or so, but glancing down at the screen showed that he was still monitoring and directing Spider traffic and tasks with nimble fingers.

"What about Jess? Or the black and white monochrome Spider? He seems broody and serious enough for it," they suggested, looking back up at him. His gaze didn't waver from the monitor. "Just for, like, five minutes. C'mon, we go get some tea, or I'm guessing some form of Monster energy in your case since I've never seen you sleep. What’s a monster to a Spider? Praying Mantis?"

"That's a negative, I don't brood, and I’m questioning whether or not you’re a Spider-person with how much you talk my ear off," he said, flicking through pieces of programming that was cleverly styled around this whole webbing deal the Spiders had.

"Sure ya don't," they said dismissively, ignoring most of his statement and starting to develop an idea. A probably very horrible idea that would almost definitely make him irritated at least and furious at worse. But, he was a good guy, even if his attitude suggested otherwise sometimes. They trusted him to not hurt them. "It's just five minutes. Anyways, any big quantum whatsits right now? Influxes? Anomalies? Anomalies. Big Spider Emergency stuff."

Miguel looked surprised at their question since they usually tried to take his mind OFF of his work, not ask about it unless it was after he went out himself. He thought for a second, probably wondering their reason for asking, before he replied, "We had a couple incidents this morning, but they were taken care of pretty quickly. The timelines seem stable for now, but it could change any moment."

"How long?"

"Huh?" The Spider quirked a confused eyebrow at them.

“How long have they been stable?” Hopper clarified, watching the confusion dissipate from Miguel’s face as they did so. While he thought, they teleported to the surface of the console desktop, waiting patiently for the moment or so it took for him to answer.

“Few hours, maybe. It’s always calmer after an influx. Why?” he asked, following them to their spot on the desk with curiosity and suspicion.

“Because-,” a mischievous smile spread across their face as they casually walked over to where his Goober-Gizmo-Computer-Key thing was halfway stuck out of the console. As they placed a hand on it they saw his eyes widen slightly as he realized what they were doing. A flash of red-blue came towards them as he quickly went to grab them, but they already flickered out of reach, computer key and all. They appeared on the console at the other end of the platform while he whirled around to see where they went, leaning a little on the little device-thing that was two-thirds their height. They opened their mouth to continue but he lunged towards them.

“Hopper!” Miguel snapped as they teleported out of reach back to the other side, spinning back to face them with a scowl. His tone was warning like someone prepared to scold a pet or child. “Drop it.”

“Iiif you’ll let me finish,” Hopper replied, feigning disinterest by looking at their nails. They heard him sigh heavily, seeing him cross his arms over his chest in their peripherals.

“Alright, fine. Finish.” he said gruffly.

“Thank you,” they chirped, perking up and looking back up at the man, keeping at least one hand on the key at all times. Clearing their throat, they started again. “Anyways. BECAUSE. If things are settled right now, then that totally means you can take a five minute break with me.”

“No can do,” Miguel quickly cut them off, shifting to hold out his hand palm up rather than attempt to grab them again. “Give the Goober back, Hopper.”

“Only if you take five minutes to just chill. You’ve still got your wristwatch that the others can contact if something happens and all of you guys are capable of handling yourselves, even if some of the Spiders are goofy as hell,” Hopper hummed, watching his frown deepen at their blatant refusal to comply. Teleporting to the edge of the platform, they added, “Or, you know, I guess we could spend five minutes with me playing Keep Away. Just make sure you put a timer on. I feel like you’ll die if you have even one second of rest or fun more than that.” “Haha. Funny,” he laughed sarcastically, though his expression looked far from amused right now. With a grumble, he turned and paced a little on the platform, pinching the bridge of his nose and muttering under his breath. After a few seconds of Hopper waiting patiently, he stopped. He looked almost surprised at a sudden thought, turning to look at them. "If I indulge you in your little game of Keep Away, you'll be satisfied giving the Goober back and not causing trouble?"

"Just call it a computer key. And, cross my heart and hope to die. Though, you know, kind of don't want that to happen," Hopper made the X over their heart, feeling a sense of elation at having him even actually consider their proposition. They did wonder why he'd choose a game rather than just relaxing.

"Don't worry. You won't," Miguel replied, rolling his neck and shoulders. Suddenly, Hopper didn't feel very confident in their decisions for the day.

"Oh, uh, are we, like, starting now," they asked dumbly, having not really expected him to accept any of this. They didn't really think this far ahead.

"You're the one that suggested this. Though, if you want, I can give you a second to get ready since I’m not going easy on you, kid.”

Ignoring the fact that he called them ‘kid’ despite them being a full-grown adult, they felt a little better at the thought of being able to collect and prepare themself mentally, saying, “I’d appreciate that very much, thank you.”

“Alright,” Miguel nodded amicably and looked off to the side. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked like he was going to wait patiently. That lasted maybe a moment before his head whipped back towards them with narrowed eyes that glinted with his own slight mischievousness. “One.”

Hopper wasn’t even given a moment to process the brief confusion, eyes widening as the man lunged towards their spot at the edge of the platform with outstretched hands. With a yelp, their body quickly moved into a teleport, barely remembering to keep holding onto the computer key and spread the teleportation to it. Back on top of the console desktop, they took a second to register what happened, Miguel standing up from where they had been standing. Despite literally asking for this whole game, they couldn’t help but exclaim, “What the fuck, Miguel?!”

“What?” he asked, straightening up. His face was now covered by his mask, but his voice had a tinge of amusement to it as he looked back at them. He lunged towards them again, forcing them to teleport to a monitor with another yelp. “I asked if you wanted a second, I gave you a second.” “Oh, NOW you’re a funny guy like the rest of the Spiders?” Hopper asked, smiling now that the initial shock was over. They could feel a bit of giddiness from adrenaline. They laughed and teleported off the platform to the metal arm thing in the room below when he made to grab them again. They shifted their grip on the computer key, looping their arm through the metal ring on top to lessen the chance of losing it as they shouted up, “Does that mean you’re not brooding for five minutes?”

“I like that you think it’ll take that long to catch you,” Miguel replied, leaping off the platform and using a laser-web to pull himself towards them with his claws out. “I like that you think you CAN catch me,” Hopper laughed, teleporting to the ground and then further down the hall when he pounced towards their position almost immediately. “Didn’t we establish pretty early on that I’ll just teleport away even if you manage to touch me?”

“Call it a hunch that I think this time’ll be different.” “I’d ask if it was Spider-sense, but you don’t have that so I’m just gonna say it’s your massive ego that makes you think that,” they continued to teleport around the hall and equipment, having to move quickly because they were barely given a second of reprieve before there was a flash of blue-red in the corner of their vision that had them whisking away out of reach. They felt a slight ache in their chest from teleporting so quickly around, but they ignored it in favor of trying a larger jump to the end of the hall to try and catch their breath for a second.

After all, they were basically compressing their entire body and molecules - and the computer key’s - out of physical existence and back in. They were essentially holding their breath and stopping their heart for brief moments of time, and their body was currently not liking it happening so much.

“I think your hubris is going to be your downfall,” Miguel shouted, seeing them at the end of the hall. This far away, they were given a few seconds to see how terrifying it was to actually be in place of a pseudo-villain, seeing his claws gouge into the metal ground like it was paper and him literally claw and pounce towards them. They were definitely realizing why the fuck he was so buff compared to some of the other Spiders. A laser-web shot towards them and they were gone again.

“I think my hubris is likely to kill me, yes,” Hopper maintained their air of nonchalance, far too into this game to let a bit of tiredness or any aching distract them. When was the last time they played a game? Or basically played tag? When was Miguel’s? Popping up on a structure higher on a wall between some equipment. They thought they were getting closer to the Anomaly room. If they could get in one of the cages, he’d have to talk to LYLA, who they hoped would side with them.

Teleporting away from his claws again, they added, “I don’t think your name is Hubris though, so I think I’m good either way.”

“Maybe I’ll get a name change then,” he said. When they popped back on the ground with the intent to go to the Anomaly room, he overshot and dropped down right in front of them, making them yelp and teleport backward at how close he’d landed. He was starting to try and predict their movements, and unnervingly well.

As they teleported again away, he shouted after them, “And stop teleporting away-” another unsuccessful pounce to them, “- or hopping around like a-a-,” he struck a wall as he rounded a corner and tried to laser-web them again, “- a GRASSHOPPER or something!” “I’m not-not a grasshopper.” Hopper replied, mildly offended at the nickname and struggling to not pant as they teleported onto another shelf of equipment. They weren’t sure if he heard the way their voice kind of wavered tiredly but he didn’t let up regardless. They were unused to the strain in their chest, finding it more difficult to ignore as time went on. “Tell you what,” Miguel didn’t sound winded at all as he lunged again, though he was used to actual fieldwork like the rest of the Spiders while Hopper hadn’t really tried to test their teleportation limits. “You give me back the Goober, I don’t call you a grasshopper.” “No dice,” they teleported to the other end of a different hall, hoping to double-back on him without him predicting it. They huffed a bit quietly, trying to take in a full breath against the stitch developing in their side. “You’ll just take it and keep calling me grasshopper. But that’s fine anyways because it doesn’t bother me.”

It did, it really did, but they couldn’t let him know that because it would only encourage it.

“Fair assessment, but wrong. Now I just get to call you a grasshopper, which fits because you KEEP EVADING ME,” he growled as he landed where they had been standing. “Quédate quieto, you nuisance!”

They teleported on top of a light fixture to look down at him, ignoring the fact that everytime he landed it was with enough force to DENT the ground. Instead, they ignored the way their heart raced and panting breaths, asking, “Have you ever tried catching a grasshopper?”

“I’m trying right now!”

“Haha, funny,” they teleported away again, closing their eyes against a twinge of pain in their chest, for a moment, having to teleport again to avoid red-glowing claws with a panicked yelp. Was it just them or was that teleport a little delayed? “I meant ACTUAL grasshoppers. They’re pretty easy to catch once you know what to do. Like a cup or something.”

Hopper worriedly began to realize that their breathing was becoming more labored as well, pauses between sentences increasing noticeably. There was no way he didn’t notice that, at least.

“Really? Thanks for the tip.” Miguel said, eliciting another exclamation as they were forced to teleport away again.

They didn’t say anything in response to the Spider, their attention turning strictly to avoiding having the entire weight of the man come crashing on top of them, avoiding claws that still dug into the metal terrifyingly close to them and trying to speed up their teleporting back to normal standard as they felt themself begin to falter while the pain and ache in their chest increased. With a laborious huff, they teleported across the room again, starting to feel like they were physically and bodily chucking themself and the computer key around.

“What’s wrong, Hopper?” the Spider still didn’t relent in the chase, pouncing and barely missing them once more as he taunted them. “You’ve gone quiet. Almost like you’re getting tired. We can stop whenever, you just gotta drop the Goober.”

“FUCK YOU,” Hopper snapped on instincts, letting out a heavy pant when they popped back up before teleporting away again at the sight of more claws. They felt stubbornness fueled by spite, forcing themself to continue. “I’m not-not tired, a-asshole! Maybe I don’t feel like talking!”

“You? Not feeling like talking?” Miguel asked, laughing as he swung from a web to where they attempted to take refuge on some kind of equipment that flashed and hummed like many of the items in the Spider-Hub. He landed lightly as they disappeared again. “That’s more improbable than space-time just fixing itself on its own.”

“It-It happens,” they protested defensively, not wanting to admit that they were being worn down as they wavered back into existence with the computer key. Seeing him immediately face them, again, they teleported back towards his platform room, wondering if they could seek refuge in a dark corner or something. They doubted it, but maybe. But, as they flickered out in their teleport it felt sluggish and painful, barely managing to wrench their molecules away.

Hopper reappeared on the floor beside the wall, not quite where they wanted, and had to gasp for a second past the pain before forcing themself to teleport again. This time, when they reappeared, their vision remained staticky for a second before it cleared enough to allow them a pretty good view of Miguel coming towards them a Mach 5 with a claw outstretched.

They couldn’t help but exclaim in panic, trying to teleport out of the way. But, the only thing they managed was a painful purple staticky-glitchy effect that brought to mind the Anomalies that the Spiders were catching, a flash of white-hot pain traveling through their chest briefly.

This was it, they thought, I’m about to fucking die because I really fucked around and found out, huh?

They couldn’t make themself look away, staring at their imminent death with paralyzing fear, watching the red claws draw closer both in an instant and horrifyingly slowly as their mind took in everything. The claws sunk into the metal around them and they didn’t even realize that they WEREN’T being crushed until Miguel spoke up in the same instant the claws caged around them..

“Te pillé!” he proclaimed triumphantly, barely letting out a huff from the entire chase. The eye-shapes on his mask widened from the focused narrowed eye-shapes to normal. It was still weird how expressive all the masks were. “You good, kid?” Hopper didn’t say anything at first, still wondering how the hell they were even alive. They blinked in surprise, their heart racing in their chest and breath laborious and shallow as they VERY slowly realized they weren’t in danger and began to calm. They noticed belatedly that they had a good inch and a half between their chest and the surface of his palm, not exactly in danger but still far too close for comfort after seeing him barreling towards them.

“I-I’m good,” they answered stiffly, voice cracking a bit from the scare. They took a steadying breath, wincing as it worsened the painful stitches in their sides, but they were fine overall. Just exhausted, a bit adrenaline-filled, and feeling aches already begin to settle.

“Good. I’ll take that then,” Miguel said, pulling his claws out from the metal wall and floor, carefully plucking them off the floor by the back of their jacket in his claws - making them yelp out in protest - and separating them from the computer key. He closed his fingers around the computer key deftly. They noticed the way his claws retreated into the tips of his fingers as he added nonchalantly, “You were right.”

“Huh?” Hopper frowned in confusion, more concerned with the fading ache in their chest. Looking at the eyeshapes of his mask, they asked tiredly, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You said it’d be pretty easy to catch a grasshopper when I knew what to do,” he replied, mask dissipating to allow them to see his small smug expression, making them scowl immediately. “And it was. You were so sure of yourself, too.”

“I meant ACTUAL GRASSHOPPERS, and you DON’T NEED TO RUB IT IN,” they huffed, still panting a little.

“Yes, well, now you’re just a little grasshopper who can’t hop around anymore,” Miguel said. He lifted them up higher, which they didn’t really care about until he opened his jaws and began to move them closer to fangs that were as long as their forearms.

“WOAH, wait, what the FUCK?!” Hopper exclaimed in surprised panic, purple crackling along their limbs unsuccessfully.

Miguel only quirked an eyebrow slightly, saying, “Don’t worry, kid, you’ll be fine.” with the feeling that he knew they definitely wouldn’t believe him if he tried to elaborate. Which was true, but it was still kind of terrifying when they were placed into his mouth and let go despite their protests.

“MIGUEL, THIS DOESN’T FEEL FINE,” Hopper shouted when the teeth clicked behind them, yelping when the tongue shifted up against them. Adrenaline ran through their veins, causing their chest to ache again as they tried to instinctively teleport ANYWHERE else, but the light from the crackling of unsuccessful teleporting only gave them a very sharp and vivid look at the inside of the jaws around them like the teeth surrounding them. Or the pit of darkness in the back where his throat definitely was. They yelped - squeaked, but they’d never admit it - as the tongue moved them around and they felt saliva soak their clothes. “MIGUEL!”

Seconds felt like forever as their body took in their surroundings, the heat and humidity all around them, the sound of his breathing, the constant shifting of his tongue as it easily moved them around and licked at them anywhere it could touch, making them yelp in indignation when it poked their side and caused them to involuntarily jolt. They shoved against it in fearful irritation, exclaiming, “PINCHE PENDEJO, LET ME OUT!”

They only knew some insults in Spanish despite having spent years with a Spanish class and their reward was a rumbling chuckle from the man as he continued to lick at them. It was probably only a couple seconds before they found themself starting to be nudged back to the back of his mouth, trying to brace their legs against the roof of his mouth. Rather unsuccessfully.

Now it was their turn to let out a warning tone, going, “Miguel, don’t you fucking DARE swallow me!” as they panicked. They couldn’t help but feel a sense of betrayal, thinking that he was probably one of the more trustworthy people out there and now he was EATING them.

Miguel still didn’t respond, either because they were still in his mouth or he didn’t care to bother, and they found themself squished between the roof of his mouth and his tongue directly before the sound of a gulp overwhelmed their ears. In a split second, they found themself sucked down into his throat, exclaiming protests and trying to squirm away from the constricting walls all around them while their surroundings were briefly lit up every couple seconds by panicked purple light from failed teleporting.

The sound of his heart pounded in their ears along with the small exhale that he let out after swallowing, both breathing and heartbeat the only thing they could hear over the ambient sound of organs shifting in his body. Hopper didn’t realize how fucking loud bodies were.

Seconds ticked by rapidly before they spilled into a more open space, the only thing they could guess as the stomach. Despite their exhaustion, they couldn’t help but try and jump to their feet, immediately slipping and falling over on their back given the moving EVERYTHING and saliva coating it all.

“MIGUEL, LET ME OUT,” Hopper shouted again, feeling their throat start to hurt from all their panicked screaming. But, if they didn’t hold onto their anger, they’d probably just feel distress and fear, and that was so much worse. They yelped when everything got tighter, pressure from one side of the organ as they squirmed in confusion and more instinctive worry. After a second, they realized that he was probably pressing in from the outside to try and make them still.

“Cálmate, cálmate,” Miguel said, voice a bit softer. Whether he was trying to not overwhelm them further or he was trying to actually calm them felt up for debate considering their position. He still sounded far more casual than the situation called for as he added, “You’re gonna be fine, Hopper, it’s just temporary containment. Although, I wasn’t expecting you to have quite as much kick in you after being chased around.” “Temporary containment?! Temporary til what, my death?!” Hopper snapped, trying in vain to shove his hand and the stomach wall away before realizing the full extent of what he said. “Hey, wait a minute! What do you mean by ‘expecting’? How long have you been planning on eating me?!”

“Seriously? Only today, though the thought has crossed my mind a few times since meeting you,” he admitted, only sounded a LITTLE awkward about the admittance. “WHY?!”

“For one, stop squirming. I’ve told you you’re fine,” Miguel huffed, pressing a little harder but stopped when they yelped and stilled. His hand pulled away, allowing them to slip to the bottom of the organ with a yelp and fresh coating of drool from the small puddle at the bottom. “Secondly, having a small person run around on your desk while having spider DNA will lead to some odd thoughts like potentially eating them.”

“Okay, but again, WHY,” Hopper repeated, still confused as to why he’d give in to what they interpreted as a VERY WEIRD INTRUSIVE THOUGHT.

“Because it’s perfectly safe and I’ll know exactly where you are until you’re either able to teleport again or, let’s see… Let’s say an hour and a half or whenever your powers come back, whichever happens first.”

Hopper’s jaw dropped, realizing why he’d picked the game rather than just five minutes of tea, offended as they asked, “DID YOU JUST FUCKING PUT ME IN TIME OUT?!”

“Don’t take my Goober again unless you want a repeat, Grasshopper.”

#soft vore #safe vore #g/t vore #g/t #cinnwrites #hopper #miguel o'hara #astv oc

73 notes · View notes

beneath-thestyx · 9 months

Text

I feel like the g/t community grew a little bit after Miguel x Lego spiderman

#g/t #atsv #across the spiderverse #giant/tiny #miguel o'hara #lego spiderman #my posts

23 notes · View notes

sxftlygt · 10 months

Text

Some highlights, just introduce yourself as a tiny spiderman or fairy or smt !!

#g/t #g/t community #gt writing #giant tiny #gt fluff #giant/tiny #miguel o'hara #spidersona

9 notes · View notes

angelyuji · 8 months

Text

professor miguel o'hara headcanons :)

miguel o'hara x gender neutral reader

+ yandere headcanons!!!!

professor miguel o’hara would be so OFUAN:EOAFIDNWFBOWE”NJP sorry im just feral for him

professor o’hara would actually be the worst professor to get tbh like he’s a strict grader, he’s super anal about late turn-ins, all that jazz. like he’s got a shit ratemyprofessor rating… he’s the worst. he’s not the type to insult you or make you feel like shit for getting questions wrong or failing an exam HOWEVER he does say that if you fail an exam, just drop out cuz you’re not passing yeahhh he sucks lol

also he has a p.h.d in genetics and genomic sciences (totally didn’t just search up what the major is called and pasted it on here… definitely not) so he’s a huge stickler on being called doctor o’hara

however, when you mess up and say professor, he doesn’t seem to mind it all that much

professor o’hara who obviously has favorites (based on who participates more/does the best on exams)

Miguel would send students that come to him for help to students that do really well in the class (he does not care to reteach or help with essays) “you should’ve paid attention when i was explaining. im sure one of your classmates like (y/n) can help.”

motorcycle professor, office hours are always open for questions or concerns, he’s honestly chill just super strict and mean-looking

however no matter what, every single bitch has a crush on him… have you SEEEEEN him. yall know that scene in criminal minds when spencer reid is teaching a class and basically the entire class was auditing the class becuz he’s hot… yeah that except miguel o’hara is a lot meaner about chasing those people out.

yandere :0

:IBFP(I)IU*Y&^&TFRTCVGBHIK\

sorry

lemme set the scene, ur one of the smartest of your class, you’re his favorite student like ur pretty, smart, and kind to your classmate and honestly…. he was downright obsessed like mf knows ur entire class schedule, he knows ur address ur number ur email. e v e r y t h i n g

ur kindness to your classmates is gonna be ur downfall, someone (who is known to be a cheater) is gonna go to him asking for help on a project. miguel is gonna be like “lol im not helping u but yk who will? (y/n).” miguel knows that your classmate is gonna cheat, but that’s a part of the plan

they go up to you, ask to see ur project and when ur not looking, take pictures of ur research and everything. you won’t know a thing becuz ur a nice friend :)

you’ll just turn in ur stuff and chill. the next class after the due date, professor o’hara asks you to stay after class.

“(y/n), it looks like you and another classmate have almost exact project.” miguel turns his screen towards you, showing your project and your classmates

“what? dr. o’hara, i don’t know what’s going on, but i promise you, i didn’t cheat off of anyone.” you beg.

“i’m sure that we can get to the bottom of this, (y/n)…” miguel pretends to think for a second. “how about this, come to my office around 6. i think i’ll be done with classes for the day. we’ll have a chat.” he stands, rearranging his papers.

“of course. i’ll be there!” you thank him and rush out to meet your friends, holding back tears.

i mean, of course you’ll go to see your professor. you’ve been accused of plagiarism and that shit can get you expelled.

you knock on the door. “dr. o’hara?”

“come in.” you walk in, anxious to get the situation resolved. you see your professor sitting at his desk, but you don’t see your classmate.

“i thought the other person would here too…” you feel a weird sense of dread fill in your stomach.

“ms. (l/n), i don’t think we need them here for this discussion.” he motions for you to sit down at the chair. “plagiarism is a very serious offence.”

“professor, you can’t seriously believe that i copied off of them!” you’ve got the best grades in the class, you feel flabbergasted.

“ms. (l/n)!” he frowns.

you lower your head, ashamed, “i’m sorry, it’s just. they came up to me, asking for help…”

“i understand, (y/n), but do you have any physical proof of that?” you stay silent. “i can… find a way to help you, but… you’re gonna have to do something for me, (y/n).” miguel leans in and you feel that dread in your stomach worsen, but you have no other choice.

“of course, professor! anything!”

eDTRUTYGYH*(J)(_)_JIHUUGYFR^%&T*Y(UOIJL

he’s gonna take advantage of your situation. at first, it’ll be like secret dates, small (expensive) gifts at your door, then it moves up.

soon, he’s making you come to his home, making you stay overnight….

it was raining when you had went over and the rain was getting worse. his house was in the middle of a neighborhood in the woods, everything about this situation was grossing you out. “dr. o’hara, i don’t-” you, hesitantly, walk through the doors into his home.

“miguel. i’ve told you, (y/n). you should call me miguel when we’re alone.” he smiles at you and locks the door behind you.

“right… miguel, i don’t think that this is appropriate.” you look around his home. it was quaint, clean… almost like it wasn’t even lived in. you would’ve thought it was a random rental if it wasn’t for his diplomas framed on the wall.

“(y/n), do i need to remind you of our deal?” he looks at you, and for the first time since this situation started, you felt afraid. miguel disappears into the kitchen and you decide to step back closer to the front door, itching to run. “(y/n),” he pops his head out and smiles, “take a seat at the dining table.” you see fangs in his mouth and your fear grows.

dinner goes by uneventfully, but you feel uneasy as miguel chats it up with you. he had been too… nonchalant about the arrangement, but this was a new development. he wouldn’t ask you questions about yourself, but he somehow knew everything about you. it creeped you out. “if dinner is over, i should go home.” you stand, pushing back your chair.

he grabs your hand, “there’s no need to rush, (y/n)… unless,” he lets go and leans back in his chair, thinking. you freeze. “if you want to leave, i can always go to the board and tell them about your essay.” miguel shrugs and gets up.

“no! no… i’m sorry, doctor- sorry, miguel, i’m not leaving.” you sit back down.

miguel laughs, straightening, “you’re so cute, sweetheart. i’ll go get dessert.” he steps back into the kitchen. you grab your phone and text your roommate asking for help, but they don’t respond. miguel walks out with two plates of cheesecake. he continues to talk to you, asking about your classes for next semester. you gingerly answer his questions and eat, eager to finish and go home. you look behind miguel’s head and notice that the rain had gotten worse. if you didn’t leave now, you’d get stuck here.

“i should get going then.” you carefully place the fork down. “the rain is getting pretty bad.” miguel turns to look and you check your phone. still no response. miguel hums as the rain pelts the ground. he looks back at you.

“any minute now.” he doesn’t say anything else.

“ha, yeah. it’ll get worse any minute now.” you repeat and stand up. all of a sudden, your head spins. you stumble and grab your chair. immediately miguel is at your side, helping you steady. your head won’t stop spinning and you hear your words slurring, “fuck, i don’t feel good.” miguel picks you up with ease, holding you bridal-style. “put me down, please, miguel. i need to go home.” you feel yourself lose consciousness and lay your head against miguel’s chest, too tired and dizzy to fight.

“everything is okay, (y/n). all you need is me.” the last thing you feel as miguel whispers in your ear, is a kiss against your forehead.

308 notes · View notes

call-me-reynolds · 11 months

Text

I've watched Across the Spider-Verse twice already AND I NEED TO DO THIS BECAUSE IT'LL BOOST MY SEROTONIN

[ Also I'll drop a SPOILER warning if y'all still wanna watch the movie lol ]

[ Miguel O'Hara G/T & Vore Headcannons ]

Miguel would DEFINITELY be a Predator mostly of time; he already acts like a Giant chasing it's Prey through the Movie

Would not be the type to tease the Tiny

But once he knows the Tiny... he still wouldn't tease them; and if he did, he'd be a little bothered by it, but would still do to make the Tiny satisfied (and himself)

BUT like I said, IF HE DID tease the Tiny; he'd grab/trap them using his web; and would hold the Tiny near his mouth, and if you're lucky enough, maybe you'd even see him smiling;

His Spider-ish instincts are easily visible when the Tiny is being held by him; his Carmesin-Like eyes would be always staring at them, while he's holding them in his hands;

Gently squeezing?? He would squeeze the Tiny kind of tigher; as if the Tiny was a stress toy;

Sometimes he can be kind of soft, and would let the Tiny sleep with him; he'd put them onto his chest, and would use his hands as a "blanket" for the Tiny;

Well... if he gets hungry, there's no other option; he'd demand the Tiny to "go in";

He'd be careful to not accidentally bite the Tiny; his Spider-ish instincts would still kick him, but despite him being not-so-soft, when it's about eating the Tiny, he'd be extra careful

He'd DEFINITELY lick the Tiny kind of a lot before swallowing them;

If the Tiny calls Miguel by a Nickname (Example: Miggy), he'd be a little embarassed, and would ask them to stop, but if the Tiny didn't, he'd grab them and squeeze them; holding them near his mouth... showing his fangs; in a attempt to scare the Tiny

Would DEFINITELY be into Fearplay; being a Giant makes him feel Alive;

"I can't do something stupid I can't do something stupid I can't do something stupid-" - He'd keep saying, holding the Tiny in his hands; as the Tiny was laughing at him; calling him Nicknames;

If The Tiny was being chased by Miguel; they'd see the Hunger in his Eyes, his Carmesin-coloured eyes... he wants to get them... he wants to eat them...

"You know where you'll end up if you call me "Miggy" one more time! Cease it, and I won't trap you in my stomach for so long!"

Would definitely punch his fists near the Tiny to scare them;

"What? You want to stay on my hair?... Fine, but just don't make a mess there"

If the Tiny complements him... well, sometime, even if it's rare, they'd see him blushing; trying to not talk about it;

#g/t #g/t community #giant and tiny #giant/tiny #giant/tiny community #size difference #g/t vore #vore mention #gianttiny #macro vore #v0re #soft vore #vore tw #gt #g/t writing

214 notes · View notes

shurisbraids · 3 months

Text

𝓖𝓮𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓲 (𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝟏)

gif credit to user perccyjackson (prev. milesgmorales)

↝rating: g

↝pairings: vinylfang, punkflower (if you squint)

↝genre: angst, family, hurt/comfort

↝wc: 8.1k

↝song insp: "a body, a coffin" - amaarae

↝content: non-explicit, au (canon-adjacent), multiple povs, longfic, rare ship, minor spanish, head injuries, alt versions of characters, alt!miguel o'hara is trans and has anxiety issues, medicine use, minor suggestive content (strictly b/t adult characters), nursing, mention of violence, mention of child death, miles finally gets a fucking break

↝a/n: took me f o r e v e r to churn this fic out, but it's finally here!! my baby miles went thru so much in atsv and that ish wasn't fair. so, here's my personal remedy for that. loosely based on an au made by me and @arachnicas months ago. this is part 1 of a series i'm making (mainly centered around vinylfang). hopefully, the next part doesn't take me as long to finish.

↝summary:

“Who are you?” Miguel—this new Miguel—asked, his tired eyes studying Miles with an ounce of curiosity, caution. The boy sat up straighter, feeling his throat tighten. He couldn’t ignore the crack that hung at the edge of the older man’s voice as he asked his next question, “Why do you look like my nephew?” (Or: What if, during Miles’s escape from Spider HQ, the Go-Home Machine malfunctioned, sending him to another dimension with its own variant of Miguel O'Hara, and Miles, upon meeting him, had to figure out whether he could be trusted or not?)

Something was wrong.

A controlled dimensional jump shouldn’t have been this bumpy—but it was.

And Miles was terrified.

An angry, roiling expanse of space crackled and heaved all around him, spitting out shimmering clouds of stardust and supernovas, as he shot through the wormhole at unprecedented speeds. Everything swept past him in a hellish swirl of sound and color, energy and matter. Waves of particles crashed against his sides, leaving panic to scream across his nerves and flood his brain. He found it difficult to breathe, air fleeing from his flattening lungs.

His first thought, of course, was that he was going to die—that the barrier would shatter, and he would tumble into the gaping maw of the abyss beneath him, drown in that primordial sea of heat and ink and light, and disintegrate into the ether. Forever lost, while the Spider Society continued their fruitless search for him, while the Spot wiped his home dimension off the multiversal map in a blaze of death and rage—

(No, no—he couldn’t think like that, he had to save his dad, stop the Spot, prove Miguel wrong, prove them all wrong, he would be fine, he was heading home—)

Hopefully in one piece. At this rate, though, it would probably be in multiple pieces.

His second thought was why was this happening, why now? The Go-Home Machine had apparently malfunctioned—whether it was due to Miguel’s assault or a natural glitch Miles didn’t know—and decided to transport him through rougher terrain of the time-space continuum. Could it have messed up his destination too? In that moment—fighting down nausea and fear and ignoring the painful throb in his shoulder—Miles hoped not. He really, really hoped not.

Soon, he could see it: the portal at the end of the tunnel, glimmering an inviting pearl-white. Coming closer, closer. Promising freedom, salvation. Another jolt of the vector made his stomach lurch, its quivering hexagonal frame pulsing orange, then gray, then orange, then gray again. Taking a deep breath, Miles prepared himself, swallowing the scream in his throat. At this speed, in this position, he was definitely going to crash into whatever lay beyond that shifting eye.

(Not too hard, please, please.)

Arms up and crossed together, eyes screwed tight, he passed through. Just as the vector crumbled and the portal flickered out of sight. Ankle flew over head. Sky became land, and land became sky. His body slammed against the ground—head meeting concrete, the impact drawing all air from his lungs.

A bullet of pain shot through his skull, drawing a curtain of darkness across his vision as he went unconscious. His face fell to the side, limp. Cushioned—oddly enough—by a bed of withered flowers. The last thing he saw was a blur of a mural, sporting a face that was far too familiar.

Earth-88.

Another Nueva York: a sprawling corporate metropolis—the crown jewel of its nation—hiding more than a few secrets in its forsaken underbelly. Embraced by chrome-kissed skies and winking neon lights. Guarded by its own friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, Miguel O’Hara—always the same, but different—who was more concerned with putting up new room décor in his best friend’s apartment than committing to any superhero theatrics. He always reserved that for later.

“Are you sure you want this picture over the shelf?” Miguel asked, throwing a glance at Jess as he flipped the art frame in his hands.

She gave him a humorous look. “Yeah, I’m positive.”

They were working in her guest room, increasingly satisfied with its subtle metamorphosis. It was mid-afternoon, sunlight soaking through the curtains and casting the room in a mauve glow. The room already sported a nice layout—all gold and blue with regal hues—but Jess had recently grown tired of a few empty spaces, especially those on the walls. She bought a collection of new household items—pictures, baskets, candles, even special lights—she felt would add to its warm atmosphere.

“I think it’d look better with the collection on the opposite end,” Miguel muttered as he lifted the circular painting upward. “Same gold hues and all.”

“Yeah, but it complements the color of the shelf, too.”

As he hinged the portrait on the wall, he retorted, “Maybe if you squint. Or look at it sideways.”

Jess couldn’t help but laugh. “Hey, don’t challenge my color-coding skills: I’d easily do you in.”

Soon after, she had him dressing the corners of the rooms in lights as she moved tiny statues around, adjusted chairs into new positions.

“You and Aaron still coming to the baby shower on Saturday?”

“Of course, we are, cuata. We wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Miguel quirked his brow as he added, “Though Aaron may reconsider, he told me, if any of the games involve him having to wear a diaper.”

That earned a chuckle from Jess. “Maybe. I’m sure that would be a turn-on for you, huh?”

Miguel wrinkled his nose, but he couldn’t suppress the smile that crept onto his face. “You wish.” (In all honesty, his husband could be wearing just a leaf over his crotch and Miguel would still goggle at him.) He stepped down the short ladder. “Are you sure you don’t want tell me the gender beforehand?”

He knew she was keeping it a surprise—hence, the gender-neutral party theme, but maybe she would make an exception for him.

Jess narrowed her eyes. “Don’t think just because you’re my best friend you get a free pass.”

“Promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“Mhm. Not trusting you on that, O’Hara.”

“You’re breaking my heart, Jess.”

“I’ll let it break. Not like you’re using it or anything.” She turned towards the door. “Be right back. I got us drinks from Katy’s.”

Miguel perked up. “Is it boba?”

“Yup,” she said with a smirk. “I wouldn’t disappoint you.”

Katy’s was everyone’s favorite spot near St. Theresa’s, a cozy little café with specialized drinks and desserts to die for. Jess and Miguel loved visiting there right after work. His obsession with boba tea could never be understated—and since she knew he was coming over today she ordered two beforehand. Almond milk tea for her and coconut butterfly tea for him.

“Okay,” Jess breathed, slotting the appropriate tea into Miguel’s hands. “Breaktime.”

They tumble into small talk, workplace gossip, new developments on their respective side of town. Updates over their favorite TV shows, family marriages and divorces, oh, did you hear Dr. Phillips was caught making out with Rachel from ER in the closet? Words punctuated with light gasps and disbelieving chuckles.

Eventually, Jess paused a moment, brows pinched with confusion, as she placed a hand to her belly, feeling for something.

“Everything okay?” Miguel asked, eyes growing wider. “Did the baby just—?”

“They sure did!” she crowed, eyes bright as lanterns. “Here, you wanna feel?”

He nodded, allowing Jess to guide his hand to her stomach. His features twisted into a wonderous expression as he felt movement, the ghostly imprint of a foot fluttering beneath her skin. Even when he had done this multiple times with different patients, the beginning stage of life never ceased to amaze him, make his heart hurt.

Of course, he was genuinely happy for Jess and couldn’t wait to see her child. Holding them, spending time with them. (‘A boy,’ Miguel would think. ‘It’s gonna be a boy.’) Maybe they would have her dimples and wide, gap-toothed smile. Maybe one day they would even call him “Tio.”

Just like Miles had.

Maybe they would look like Miles.

At once, he felt his eyes dull, a black oily feeling seating itself at the base of his ribcage. Something close to grief; something close to envy. Jess—unfortunately—took notice. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, sympathy laced across her brow.

“Hey. Are you okay?” The words trickled out in a murmur, a gentle stream, drawing him out of this fleeting spell.

A part of him already knew. A part of him didn’t want to answer. But he does anyway—because he’s not shocking rude—his form bracing itself as if facing an incoming storm.

“Yeah?” His voice came breathless, weak. He was suddenly overcome with the urge to kick himself. Why did it come out like a question—like he was asking for permission? He tore his hand away from her stomach, deciding he had left it there for too long.

He turned his gaze elsewhere, as if embarrassed. “Sorry, I just—”

“Is it… about Miles?”

A blanket of ice coated his veins. His heart clenched. He couldn’t hide it: his expression said it all. Her pregnancy never reminded him until now. Reminded him of Miles. His nephew, who died months ago. Maybe it was because the baby’s arrival was so soon. Jess would have her child while his would still be six feet under. It wasn’t that he was envious. No, not really. It was just right now, that bump only served as another reminder of what he lacked.

Miguel looked at her then, his expression sullen and vague.

“No,” he whispered. A lie, of course—and she could tell.

The woman shook her head, curly hair bouncing, and placed a hand on his wrist reassuringly. Her eyes swam with sympathy. She kept her voice gentle as she said, “I know it’s been tough. If you’re still not over it, I get it. Recovery is different for everybody. Like I told you before, if you need any more support—”

Miguel’s eyes darkened. “I don’t.” Maybe his tone was a bit too cold, but it slipped before he could catch it. Talking about it right now wouldn’t help him. Talking about it was rarely something he wanted to do anymore. It wouldn’t lift the boy from the dead—and it wouldn’t make his absence hurt less.

Jess dropped the topic without another word. “Fine, sorry.”

His eyes softened as he rubbed the back of his neck. “No, it’s nothing,” he mumbled. “I’m the one who should be saying sorry.”

Maybe it was the turn of conversation that suddenly made the environment colder, the colors duller, and his fingers looser. Maybe it was the thing that suddenly made him want to leave. By now they were pretty much done with their little activity.

“If we’re finished here, I might as well get going, cuata.” He rose from his seat. “Still have some errands to run.”

“That’s fine.” He tried to ignore the note of sadness that rode her tone. “See you around, Migs. Thanks for helping. Tell Aaron I said hi.”

“Will do.”

So—Miguel returned home. He turned the lights on in the kitchen and swept his gaze around the interior. Slowly, mechanically, out of routine. Same dishes that needed to be put up; same board on the wall choked with half-written sticky notes, words of affirmation from him to Aaron or from Aaron to him.

Same life to live, same responsibilities to tend to. And yet none of it truly felt the same. The world spun on—even with Miles gone—and to Miguel that felt like a crime. How could the world continue with that soft, sweet boy gone, with his future left unfulfilled? It had been five months since he died, since Miguel felt another precious string of his life snap, since he was reminded again of his inherent helplessness in life’s orchestrations.

Since the Sinister Six attacked near Miles’s school and left it—and the rest of the block—a near-smoking crater in their onslaught. Miles should’ve been here, in the living room, working on his homework, notebooks and pencils scattered across the floor, music leaking from his holographic audio player.

LYLA flickered to life in front of Miguel, sporting casual lounge clothes. “Hey, sunshine,” she purred. “How’d it go?”

“Fine. Everything’s fine.”

“Want me to go over the rest of your schedule for today?”

“You know it.”

Typical errands: do laundry, go on a daily walk, water your plants. Padding into the living room, he turned on the television to get the latest news. A series of bank robberies in the 42nd District, all presumably by the same person; a kidnapping at the train station; a car accident on Highway I-45. No mention of any member of the Sinister Six—not yet, at least.

They normally caused trouble Downtown, their territory, but they certainly weren’t above making their mark on the upper crust of Nueva York. News organizations from Uptown rarely ever mentioned activity in Downtown. Not that it mattered: he and Aaron had connections down below who kept them updated. If any of them knew the current whereabouts of the gang members—especially the Green Goblin—they would tell him.

She was the one he was on the hunt for.

She was the reason Miles was gone.

Drawing his life from him with the calculated toss of a bomb. Miguel had been too late to catch it—had been too preoccupied with handling Doc Ock to notice in time. A bristling flash of white was all that was left to see, and Miguel hadn’t been able to capture the scream that tore free from his mouth right after.

There was nothing much left to remember afterward; just the cacophonous sounds of police and ambulance sirens, flashing lights painting smoldering walls blue-white-red. Why hadn’t he seen the signs ahead of time? Why did he thought it was a good idea to prioritize Doc Ock? Why hadn’t he moved fast enough? Why hadn’t he?

He swallowed the memory down, took a deep breath, tried to count to ten. Something close to rage punched a boiling fist through his ribcage. He swore one day he’d finally catch those monsters and make them pay.

But none of that now.

Just focus on what’s in front of you; don’t think beyond that.

And so he did. He vacuumed and he gathered laundry; he read another chapter of a book; he finished the rest of his boba tea; he absentmindedly listened to the new playlist Aaron had made for him as he wiped down windows. Eventually, as he chipped away at his chores, that urge unmistakably rose in him—the urge to see Miles. Not the boy himself, of course, but the mural made in remembrance of him. He hadn’t originally planned to go today, but he decided it was about time to pay another visit.

In all honesty, he preferred visiting the mural over the grave. He rarely ever visited the latter even when Aaron would try to coax him to go. At least at the mural he could see Miles as he had been, vibrant and alive, with a dimpled smile that could melt even the coldest heart. Aaron had painted it a week after the funeral. He had done an amazing job capturing the boy’s spirit in the colors, the lines.

Now it was time for a walk, wasn’t it? Just a small circuit that stretched a couple of blocks. Away from the streets most populated by pedestrians. After shrugging on his exercise clothes, he made his way out the door, down the stairs. He breathed in the crisp afternoon air, passing under clouds raked across the blue expanse of sky.

Trotting down the street, catching snapshots of neighbors and strangers amid their own business, as usual. Past endless rows of pristine apartment complexes; past the elevated highways brimming with vehicles; past the community gardens too neatly arranged.

Miles’s mural wasn’t too far ahead, tucked away near his favorite place to hang out with friends. Maybe someone had left more flowers, copies of his favorite toys, manga volumes. He could stand there like he always did, let a gentler pool of memories pour across his mind’s eye and drown him for those few sweet moments. Tell Miles he was sorry, so sorry. Pretend that he hadn’t failed him in the worst way.

Miguel wiped a thin sheen of sweat from his forehead. He briefly watched a plane streak across the sky before he took a sharp left between two buildings—a shortcut—sucking in a deep, silent breath. It didn’t take long for the mural to come into sight, visible even from the narrow passageway. Unmolested—or so he thought, as he reached his destination with silent, measured steps.

Nothing would’ve prepared him for what greeted him there.

He froze in place as his gaze fell upon a figure collapsed amidst the entourage of memorabilia. Unmoving. Unconscious. Alarm shattering his stupor like a hammer, Miguel moved closer to get a better look, wondering what had happened. Had the person been attacked? Had they passed out? Even from where he stood, there was something oddly familiar about the stranger’s profile. Once he stooped down, obtained a clearer portrait of their—his—identity, Miguel felt the world around him tilt sideways.

It was Miles.

Arms spread out like wings; body crumpled like an angel fallen. Skin bruised and battered; hair coated in debris. Clad in a tattered costume, a brilliant red spider swimming in a sea of black upon his chest. Viciously familiar. Panic made the man’s heart crash against his ribcage.

No. No. This wasn’t possible.

Miguel wanted to believe this was a dream, a hallucination. Shakily he pressed an ear against the boy’s chest. A heartbeat. He was alive. But not in the best condition. He must’ve fallen—from where?—and landed on the concrete. A small pool of blood formed a morbid halo around the boy’s head, painting the flowers beneath it red. He paused, glanced around as if he expected an ambush before turning his disbelieving gaze back on Miles.

It’s a trick, a voice hissed in the back of his mind. It could’ve been, the man noted. But that didn’t stop him from gingerly picking the boy up, from observing his injuries, from leaving the place with him in his arms bridal style.

Miguel didn’t know what was going on, but he certainly welcomed it. A mixture of confusion, desperation, and fear pulsing in his bones. And something else: excitement.

“LYLA, run diagnostics.”

The AI flared to life in front of him, adjusting her triangle-shaped glasses. “Hm? What, you fell and scraped your knee—?”

She paused when she saw the injured boy lying on the kitchen table, which was cleared of space to make room for him. Miguel had already cleaned up the back of his head.

“Miguel… Is that who I think it is?” She teleported closer for a better look, eyes wide with shock.

Miguel was standing at the corner of the table, arms folded, expression giving nothing away. “Yeah,” he breathed, “or maybe not.” He wasn’t sure yet.

It didn’t make sense. There was no way this Miles was his Miles. He looked too different, wore different clothing, didn’t even have his hair in his eyes. Out of all the technological advancements Nueva York boasted, resurrection wasn’t one of them. Cloning was one of the only conclusions he could reach.

But who would clone Miles, and for what reason?

Did someone figure out Miguel’s secret identity and was leading him on? That couldn’t be possible either, was it? In any case, regardless of how this panned out, he wasn’t going to treat the boy cruelly—only cautiously. He was injured, and, of course, Miguel felt his nursing instincts kick in. He could’ve seen a supervillain bleeding out on the street and still rush to save them, whether it was by his hand or another’s.

Rubbing the side of his face, he groaned, “Again, diagnostics.”

LYLA perked up, “O-Oh, right!” She fumbled with her glasses a bit before scanning Miles, a wave of blue light washing over him. “Lacerations on face; mild contusion with bruising and bleeding at the base of the skull. Swollen left cheek. Ooh, nasty—ice can help with that! Acetaminophen should help with pain relief…”

Miguel pulled up a holographic screen, making notes of LYLA’s report with a speed honed only by focus and achieved through years of experience. None of the injuries were anything he couldn’t handle. He and Aaron dealt with worse in their line of superhero duty.

And now came his favorite part: tending to his patient’s wounds. He applied antiseptic and ointment; he wrapped bandages around the boy’s head with incredible care, all the while taking note of his vitals (as if he would flatline at any moment); he pressed an ice pack against his cheek, got the medication for later ready.

Eventually, the man paused, glancing between the living room couch and Miles’s room down the hallway. Where to put him? It probably was a better idea to place him in the living room, but his heart demanded he put the boy in his counterpart’s room. That was his rightful place, in a way.

Maybe he would be more comfortable there, even if the room wasn’t truly his. After peeling off his suit, wiping him clean, dressing him in his Miles’s pajamas, Miguel put him in bed and added as many blankets and pillows he could for maximum comfort. He stepped back, breathed in and out, felt warmth burn at the back of his eyelids.

Stay calm, stay calm. And don’t you dare cry.

Tea. Maybe this one liked tea.

Eventually, Miguel found himself in the kitchen, watching water come to a simmer in a small saucepan in front of him. He had all the necessary ingredients he needed to make a cup of tea. Next to add were the milk and spices, which he poured in slowly, one at a time. He would serve it to Miles as part of his lunch, alongside a plate of sincronizada, a little snack his Miles always enjoyed.

There were leftovers from this morning, so he decided to heat those up and include them. They were light on the stomach, which was always good for someone who sustained head injuries. And they were easy enough to make. He just wanted to prepare something quick just in case Miles woke up earlier than expected.

As he toiled away in the kitchen, he watched the boy sleep via holographic screen. Every few seconds his gaze would slide over to the boy’s sleeping form. Occasionally, Miles would shift, twitch, turn in bed, but that was all. No signal, no portent coated in insidious intent. He was struggling to keep his anxiety at bay, but the situation almost called for it to spill over, tangle into his thoughts, shake at his limbs. As if on cue, LYLA popped up again, forehead lightly creased with worry.

“Hey, your heartbeat is spiking,” she said. “Remember: relax yourself. Breathe in, breathe out—like we practiced.” She gestured in front of her chest.

“Yeah, I know,” Miguel whispered, briefly shielding his eyes with a hand. “Can you just… play my ambiance playlist for me?”

“On it! First song’s my jam.”

Soon music drifted gently through the air, a melodious balm, dressing the room in blue, soporific hues. He breathed in, breathed out, finished the tea, strained it into a cup. Slowly but surely, he felt that cloud of anxiety dissipate, coil and sink back under his nerves. Not gone, but still easier to manage, to somewhat ignore.

It couldn’t have been just a coincidence that he found Miles the way he had. Speculation grasped his mind with electric fingers. His little guest could’ve been anything: an escaped experiment; a biological Trojan horse; a corporate raider; a copycat. Regardless, his presence soothed the ever-present throb of guilt in the man’s stomach, made him feel like nothing had changed over the last five months.

If only for a little bit. No, this wasn’t his Miles, but for this sweet morsel of a moment, he could pretend it was. And that made his mood lighten so much more. Eventually, a kernel of thought bloomed at a corner of his mind—one he didn’t want to entirely welcome: what if this Miles was from an alternate dimension?

Multiverse theory: a school of thought Aaron loved to entertain with him over the years. That there was a kaleidoscope of realities scattered across space and time like seeds. Miguel never agreed with it and spent a handful of nights arguing with Aaron over it.

But now, what if it was true? What would it mean? Miguel couldn’t bring himself to think about it too extensively. In the end, it was only one hypothesis. He would get his answer once the boy woke up.

LYLA stayed right next to him, floating cross-legged in mid-air. “So,” she sighed, “what are we gonna do with him?”

“What we always do in situations like this,” Miguel drawled. “Interrogation.”

“But this time with room service,” she said cheekily.

He smirked. “With room service, yes.”

A crackling red prism swallowing him whole. His heart practically bursting from his chest as he raced through Downtown. Gwen’s face, whipped by wind, laced with worry and guilt. Miguel’s claws battering at the shell the Go-Home Machine wove around him, countenance a portrait of mania—

Miles woke up with a jolt, wincing as he felt the back of his skull scream. His mouth felt stuffed with cotton and his vision was blurry. A ghost of nausea coiled around his stomach. His mind was sluggish as it swam through the murky waters of fatigue. It grasped at lucidity with slippery hands, feeling for a sense of where he was.

It felt… oddly comfortable, wherever he was. Softness embraced him in every direction. Soon he realized he was in bed, wrapped snug in the fluffiest blanket imaginable. It smelled like sunflowers. He blinked once, twice, groaning softly, looking about the room when his vision cleared. There was something about his surroundings that felt familiar.

Am I home? he thought. Did I make it?

Once he felt strong enough, he sat up slowly, rubbing his face. Then he froze, noticing the sunlight piercing through the curtains. It was purple. And the sun in his universe wasn’t purple. Dread plucked at his nerves like strings, sending a chord of alarm through his head.

Oh, no.

He wasn’t home. The machine had sent him elsewhere.

And now he could tell something was off about his room. None of the trophies, books, or photos rang familiar to him. Not exactly. He finally looked down at himself, noticing he wasn’t wearing his costume either. Where was he? Who did this? He wanted to get out of bed, leave the room, check the window—anything—but it felt like his legs were made of lead. Heavy and dead.

Suddenly, the door opened.

Miles felt his heart leap into his throat as he glimpsed his visitor. Too familiar, too familiar. It was Miguel—again. Dressed in a pleasant expression, holding a tray of food in his hands.

“You’re awake,” he said warmly as he stepped inside.

Panic sent a lightning bolt down Miles’s limbs. His back hit the headboard with a heavy thunk! as he threw himself backwards, drawing his knees to his chest. Just like in that wormhole, he found it immediately difficult to breathe. He was hyperventilating—eyes wide and glistening with fear—which caused Miguel to abruptly stop. Worry streaked across his face.

(No, no, no—it was too late, too damn late, they caught him, who knows how long it’s been, his dad could be dead, and he failed, he failed—)

Miguel put the tray on the desk and drew his hands up in a calming position. “Hey,” he whispered, “it’s okay. You’re okay. I’m not gonna hurt you—”

“Please don’t let my dad die,” the boy whispered, a helpless, broken plea.

He hated how weak he sounded, but he couldn’t help it. He was injured, with nowhere else to run, no one else to turn to, and he was completely at this man’s mercy. Lord knew where the Society had taken him, what this dimension even was.

It was Miguel’s reaction, however, that caused a needle of confusion to pierce through his tapestry of panic. He looked stung, as if what Miles told him had brought up a bad memory, brought up pain. His mouth opened, then closed again—as if he didn’t know what to say.

His face grew pinched as he looked to the side, then back at Miles again. “Why would I do that?” he asked, his voice lower, more confused, more… vulnerable.

Panic loosened its grip on the boy’s senses, and that’s when he realized something: this Miguel was different. Different clothes, different physique, different hairstyle—different everything. Freckles spattered across his features like specks of paint. Hair reddish-brown with slivers of gray. Faint ashen rings hanging beneath his eyes. There was a certain tenderness in his stare, and it stirred a warm emotion in Miles that he didn’t want to examine.

This wasn’t “his” Miguel O’Hara; this was a variant.

One he’d never met before. Come to think of it, Miles didn’t remember seeing any other Miguels at HQ. Though it was hard to tell considering most of the Spider-People there kept their masks on. He could mull over that mystery later. Right now, he had to figure out whether he could trust this one or not. Whether he was with the Society—and simply playing dumb—or a person disconnected from them. If he was confused, asking why, maybe he knew nothing at all. But still—but still—

“You don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“You’re not one of them, are you?”

“Who?”

“…Nothing.”

“What are you talking about?” Miguel prompted, brows joined together in confusion.

Miles shook his head, rubbing his eyes with a trembling forearm. “No, j-just forget it—I mean—it’s nothing.”

“It doesn’t sound like nothing.” His voice stayed gentle, quietly imploring. Cautiously, slowly, he took a few steps closer—only to stop in his tracks and twist his features.

Miles felt his Spidey Sense flare to life, not out of danger but familiarity, reaching forward and probing the boundary of another. The one belonging to the man right in front of him. Like you, it whispered, silvery and soft. Like you. With that revelation came a brief rush of emotions: confusion, relief, wonder. The Miguel he met before never had a Spidey Sense, but this one did. Meaning that he was a Spider-Man, too—unequivocally. And he looked overwhelmed with disbelief.

“You’re like me?” Miguel whispered. “How?”

Miles responded, words coming slow, almost hesitant, “I was bitten by a radioactive spider.”

“From where?”

“Not anywhere here.” Relaxing his legs, Miles glanced down at his hands, expression softening. “I—I’m not… from around here…” He wanted to kick himself for being so vague, but he wasn’t sure if he should reveal his origins just yet. Would this Miguel even believe him?

He looked up again to see Miguel giving him a thoughtful look, brow set in a pensive bend. The boy’s last response thankfully didn’t elicit any negative reaction from him. He could tell Miles wasn’t exactly comfortable revealing his origins yet. All he gave was a subtle nod of understanding, seeming to put the dots together immediately.

“That’s why you had that costume, isn’t it?”

“Right,” Miles said. “I’m Spider-Man. Well, a Spider-Man, anyway.”

“And here I thought I was the only one,” Miguel murmured, snorting out a light chuckle. “Looks like I got competition now, huh?” An attempt at lightening the mood, soothe the boy’s uncertainty.

Miles made a vague attempt to mirror the man’s smile. “Wouldn’t put it like that. I’m just someone passing by.”

“Well, ‘someone-passing-by,’ how are you feeling?” he asked. “You weren’t in the best shape when I found you. I hope you were able to have a good rest.”

Miles swallowed. “Y-Yeah, I did,” he rasped. “I’m okay. Mostly.”

“Is your head still hurting?”

“Yeah, but it’s not as bad as before.”

“Anything else?” Miguel asked, adopting the familiar tone of an examiner. “Dizziness? Nausea?”

“A little bit of both, but it’s no big deal.”

“Mm, noted.” He gestured to the tray on the desk. “I brought you food. Are you ready to eat?”

“I’m not hungry,” Miles muttered, loosely crossing his arms over his chest. The loud gurgle that erupted from his stomach begged to differ. The boy startled slightly, embarrassment crossing his face. “Uh—”

An amused smirk pinched the corner of Miguel’s mouth. He probably knew what Miles was thinking. “The food isn’t poisoned, I promise.”

To demonstrate, he removed the tray, took a sincronizada off the plate and took a bite out of it. “See?” he said around his chewing. “Mmm, delicious.” He lifted it in the boy’s direction. “Now you wanna try it?”

With a sigh, Miles leaned back into the pillows in defeat. ��Okay,” he grumbled. The food did smell pretty tasty, at least. His Spidey Sense hadn’t gone off yet either, he noted. A good sign.

Something close to triumph winked in the older man’s eyes. It didn’t take him long to settle the food tray in Miles’s lap, watching the teenager briefly study the food before picking up a piece. It looked like stuffed quesadillas. Cheese and onion and bits of ham peeking from beneath the crust. He had never eaten this before, but it looked familiar enough. And he could never resist the smell of his favorite tea.

“Not sure if you like any of this,” Miguel said under his breath, almost timidly. “If not, I can make you something else.”

“No,” Miles replied. “It’s fine. Thank you.”

The food was pretty good—and the chai tea was perfectly brewed. Miles was starving, but he took slow, cautious bites, remembering what his mother told him about eating too fast. (“You’ll get sick that way, mijo,” she chided him one day.) As he took sips from his drink, he tried to ignore the way Miguel was looking at him. His gentle expression never wavered. Eventually, when Miles finished his food, he drew a chair closer to the bed, sat down in it.

The air shifted. Miles compelled himself to stop eating, gaze sliding back toward the man.

“Alright,” Miguel sighed, “are you ready to answer more of my questions?” His voice, still soft, but the semblance of an edge lurking beneath the words.

Suspicion slinked through Miles’s chest. He gave a final gulp, bracing himself. “Sure, go ahead.”

“Who are you?” Miguel—this new Miguel—asked, his tired eyes studying the boy with an ounce of curiosity, caution. Miles sat up straighter, feeling his throat tighten. He couldn’t ignore the crack that hung at the edge of the older man’s voice as he asked his next question, “Why do you look like my nephew?”

Miles stilled, face going slack, ice punching a sharp fist through his ribcage. Your nephew? Realization arrived on its own ragged chariot. So, it wasn’t a coincidence after all. This was his room—or, rather, the room of his own variant. Who, apparently, was related to Miguel O’Hara in this universe?

After everything the young hero had been through over the past twenty-four hours, a part of him didn’t want to believe it. The more logical side of him, however, chalked it up to statistical inevitability. In a broiling sea of nigh infinite universes, why wouldn’t that happen eventually?

Taking a deep breath, Miles replied, “I’m Miles. Miles Morales.”

Miguel’s eyes closed, and a painful, resigned expression tore across his features. “That was his name too,” he whispered.

“I look like him because I am him,” Miles said. “From another dimension.”

His answer appeared to send a firecracker off in Miguel, who sat up straighter, astonished. “Impossible,” he said. But even then, Miles could see the unerring shield of his disbelief dent, bend inwards, as reality battered against it. “I-It’s not feasible, it can’t—”

Miles perked up. “It is possible. You gotta believe me! I’m from Earth-1610… B, I think?” He squinted in thought for a moment. “Yeah, B. And I’m here because—”

A scream tore from his throat as his body abruptly glitched, sending the food tray tumbling to the floor and Miguel reeling backwards, rendered speechless, eyes wide with shock.

Oh. That’s right. His day pass. He didn’t have it on.

When the glitching subsided, Miles tensed, panted, waiting for the crackles of pain to subside. He saw Miguel hover over him, the very portrait of an anxious parent, arms stretched forward. “Is there anything I can do?”

Miles instinctively pulled away. “My day pass,” the boy wheezed, eyes scrunched shut. “The wristband.” He prayed he hadn’t lost it during his escape here. Or that it was thrown away.

Thankfully, Miguel seemed to know what he was talking about and rushed out the room, coming back with the wristband clutched in his fingers. “You mean this thing?” he said. “Didn’t think it was that important.” He had taken it off Miles when he was dressing him earlier. He slid it back onto Miles’s wrist. The boy mumbled a thank you.

“What was that?” Miguel asked, exasperated.

“That’s what happens when you’re in another dimension,” Miles said. “You glitch, a-and your body starts breaking down because you don’t belong there.” He raised his wrist. “Not unless you have this—something that can anchor you.”

Fascination dominated the older male’s expression then. He leaned forward, taking a closer look at the wristband. “I’ve never seen anything like this before. How does it work?”

“Beats me,” Miles said with a shrug. “All I know is that it works.” A brief, nervous laugh rattled past his teeth. The other you made it.

“And you’re sure you’re not some weapon? That this isn’t some trick?”

“Yes, I’m sure, man,” Miles sighed. “I’m here for a totally different reason. But… I know it might take you a while to really trust me.”

“I’m sure the feeling is mutual,” Miguel replied. “Which… is understandable.” He shook his head, as if breaking out of a trance. “Sorry, I haven’t given you my name yet. I’m—”

Miles cut him off, “I know who you are.” He looked more tired than normal then. “You’re Miguel O’Hara.”

Miguel looked startled. “How did you know?”

“Because I’ve met you before. Another you.” He thumbed his wristband. “He’s the one who gave me this. H-He’s in charge of this thing called ‘the Spider Society.’ It’s this group of Spider-People from different dimensions—”

“Wait, did you say ‘Spider-People’?” Miguel interjected. He dipped his chin, brows raised. “You mean, there’s more like us?”

“Yeah. Thousands of ‘em!” Miles gestured above his head widely. “There was an… accident that happened back in my home dimension. These bad guys used a machine, a collider, to access different dimensions and my Spider-Man tried to stop them, but the collider ended up tearing holes in the multiverse. And a lot of people ended up thrown into the wrong dimension. So, the other Miguel made the Society to clean up the mess and put those people back where they belong.”

There was more, of course—so much more—but he couldn’t just dump all that information onto this Miguel when he was allegedly new to all of this. He was currently looking at Miles like the boy just grew another head. His expression eventually grew distant as he processed everything Miles told him.

“Is that the reason you’re here?” Miguel finally asked. “You fell through a hole by accident?”

“No, I came through a portal—and it wasn’t an accident! Well, jumping into the portal wasn’t an accident. I was trying to escape—you know, get back home—but the machine screwed up and sent me here instead.”

“And this Spider Society… Are they the ones after you?”

Miles nodded, staying silent.

“Why?”

His throat went dry. He buried his feet into the mattress beneath him as he turned his gaze elsewhere: at the window, through the blinds, which bled purple light. He could see the city beyond, draped in a glimmering veil of neon colors—so similar and yet so different. A study in purples and pinks and blues caged within hardened binary lines. Nothing like the angular, crystalline white of his Miguel’s homeworld.

“Miles,” Miguel said, drawing the boy’s attention back to him, “it’s okay. Just tell me.”

“Because I’m trying to save my dad,” Miles admitted in a whisper, feeling his defenses falter again. “That’s why I brought him up earlier. They told me that he has to die o-or else my whole dimension’s gonna collapse.”

“What?” Disbelief colored the older male’s tone, smeared itself across his expression.

Miles continued, “It’s a part of every Spider-Man’s story… or, at least, that’s what they say. I have to lose people close to me in order to become a stronger hero. And if I don’t let it happen, if I don’t carry out this next chapter, my whole world will rip apart at the seams.” He rubbed his hands together, determination pooling into his tone. “But there’s gotta be another way. I told them I could do both. Maybe it’ll be different for me.”

Because he was never meant to be Spider-Man, was never meant to leap with faith, by faith.

Because he was the-spider-that-never-was.

Bastard child meeting crown. Water and oil miraculously merging. A paradoxical synthesis.

But maybe—just maybe—the impossibility carved under his skin would give rise to a new path. A path unexpected. A path once deemed incalculable, inconceivable.

“That's... insane,” Miguel whispered, uneasiness seeping into his voice. "How do they know all this?"

“Because it's happened before,” Miles replied. “The other you, he took the place of a variant in another world and eventually that world collapsed because he wasn’t supposed to do that. I can’t tell you for sure if it’s completely true, though…”

“Well, whether it’s true or not, I hope you’re able to save your dad,” the older Spider whispered. “He’s not alive here.”

Miles froze, mortified. “Really?”

A shard of pain pierced Miguel’s stare. “He died ten years ago. Your mother too. There was an accident.” He moved to pick up the tray and cup off the floor—a feeble attempt to distract himself, it seemed. “And that’s how your uncle and I got custody of you.”

“W-Wait… You mean Uncle Aaron?”

“Yes.” His smile grew warm. “We’re together.”

Okay. That was what made Miles feel like he was about to slide right through the floor. His uncle Aaron and Miguel… in a relationship? He wondered what greater cosmic machination brought that to happen. The multiverse really did whatever it wanted, didn’t it? And finally he noticed it, the wedding ring glinting faintly on Miguel’s finger. Fostering within Miles not just curiosity but excitement.

Uncle Aaron was alive. Not bleeding out in an alleyway or rotting in a grave. He was alive, at least here, and that’s all that mattered to Miles, whose mind was set adrift in a current of all the things left unspoken between them—all the things he had thought endlessly about for the last year and a half. Suddenly he yanked his attention back to reality as he remembered the situation at hand.

“We raised you, loved you. And then… you died.” Miguel’s tone flattened, empty as a graveyard. His words came clipped, laconic.

Miles felt cold fear burrow into his spine. “I—I’m dead?” he choked out. Then he remembered where he landed: behind the back of a building, a mural—one in the likeness of a boy Miles hadn’t fully recognized—hanging above him like a guillotine. But now, in a clearer state of mind, realization quickly took root: that boy had been him.

“Yes.” Miguel looked around slowly—as if the movement was laborious. “This was your room.” He peered down into the teacup almost thoughtfully. “Haven’t really moved anything out yet. Can’t bring myself too—not yet.”

“How long has it been?”

“Five months.”

“If you don’t mind me asking… what happened to him?” Miles asked.

Miguel didn’t respond; he just gave a sad dip of his head. “Something I hope to make amends for.”

Even in another world Miles had to see the same guilt—the same sense of helplessness—in this Miguel, leering, always leering. Another link in the chain; an onerous form of mitosis. But it felt different somehow (because it would always be different). Miles was possibly wading into some dark waters, so he decided to drop his questioning there, even with another one seated on his tongue. He winced as he felt his head throb again and he grasped the back of his head. Miguel took note of it, rising to his feet.

“Hm. I’ll get you some medicine,” he murmured.

Miles cleared his throat, “Thanks for the help and all, b-but I can’t stay here. I gotta go.” He knew it wasn’t the best idea in his current state, but the Society could knock at this dimension’s door any minute. He really didn’t know if Gwen or Peter would be in tow once they did—his stomach soured over the idea—but he didn’t want to stick around and find out.

“Go where?” Miguel paused at the door, turning to look at him. An odd note entered his tone. “You’re injured and light years away from home. If you don’t want to stay here—find a hostel or something—then that’s fine. But now might not be the best time, alright? At least wait until most of your injuries are healed.”

Silence. Miles didn’t move.

Miguel continued, “Try to get some more rest. I’ll bring you medicine for that headache. Then I have some errands to finish. We’ll go from there. If you want, I’ll have LYLA provide surveillance around the area and alert me to any funny stuff. Okay?”

Miles huffed and crossed his arms, but ultimately had a resigned look on his face. “Fine. I’ll stick around.”

A sad smile found its way on Miguel’s face, “Thank you.” Food tray in tow, he then asked, “Is there anything else you need, Miles?”

“No.”

“Then I’ll be on my way.”

After choking down a few painkillers, Miles sunk back into bed, sporting a rather dull expression as he stared at the ceiling. He let the distant whirs and beeps of cars outside wash over him as he tried to still his racing thoughts. His fingers flexed in and out, in and out. He wanted to relax, believe that he was somewhat safe here, but it was hard.

He didn’t have the luxury of that—no, not really—no matter what this Miguel wanted to believe. He was gone for now, but he felt that sense of being watched, almost like he was back at Spider HQ. Anyone could spot the brilliant blue stripes racing along every corner of the bedroom. Blinking, blinking. LYLA was watching him from there, he knew.

Groaning in frustration, he turned over on his side, squeezing one of the pillows. Its smell soothed him a bit, reminded him of home. Once his headache faded, reality really began to sink in.

He hadn’t made it home. He was lost and alone (though perhaps not too alone) on a completely different world and his friends had betrayed him. He was under the care of another Miguel, who was technically his uncle, who was married to his other uncle, Aaron. And only time would tell where his loyalties truly lied. His mother and father were dead. He was dead. His family ripped apart, left frayed as a rope. And it served as another frantic reminder of what could happen if he didn’t get home.

Two days. That’s what they told him. But time was a fluid, funky thing in the multiverse. Who knew how long that would equate from here to home?

And in the meantime, he would have to finish things with Miguel. If he stuck around, he might even get to see Uncle Aaron again. Catch up with him. He wondered how the one here was like. Would he look the same, walk the same, have the same style? Would he still be the Prowler—and did his husband even know?

Miles would find out soon enough. All he could do now was lie here and wait. Distract himself. Wonder what would happen next. Craft a script in his head with all the potential questions, scenarios, and answers that could come later. What he was willing to immediately answer and what he needed more time to process. His nervousness finally cooled, hardened into a determination ringed by iron. A setback; that’s all this was. If he played his cards just right, it’d be a minor one.

You want the full story, Miguel? Fine. Come back, and I’ll give it to you.

22 notes · View notes

allysunny · 4 months

Text

[CLOSED]

Hello everyone!

First of all, I would like to thank you all! I've recently hit 200 followers, and while to many it might not seem like much, it means the world to me! Thank you all for sticking with me and my silly little writing pieces in which I make all of our favourite characters suffer.

I'm very grateful for all those of you who like, share, and comment my work. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart!

Now, let's get to business, shall we?

I'd like to make a small event, in which I give you guys a few prompts and you get to request fanfiction with said quotes, and the characters you'd like.

I've seen people do it before, and I wanted to give it a shot!

Rules

Please send in your requests in my Ask Box!

You can request up to two dialogue prompts, followed by a scenario prompt. As in, for example, 1 + 2 + a. No more than one scenario prompt, please!

I've added a few fluff prompts, a few angst ones, and a few spicy ones, so you can pair them up and come up with interesting combinations!

You can also tell me who you would like to say what - the character, or the reader. And give me small details you'd like for me to add!

I tried to come up with original stuff, so please don't kill me!

You can request any of these characters,

Miguel O'Hara (Spider-Man: Across the Spiderverse)

Nanami Kento (Jujutsu Kaisen)

Bruce Wayne (Christopher Nolan's The Dark Knight Trilogy)

I'm going to take the plunge and start writing smut. Please keep in mind that I have literally never written smut in my entire life (only once, and it was like, five lines for my Miguel & pregnant wife drabble), so please, please, please go easy on me. The prompts I added are the only ones that I feel comfortable writing, so please don't ask more of me! And of course, NSFW content below!

Please be patient, as I still have other requests to tend to, and have my own life, which means I might take a while getting to all of them. But I can promise I will answer every request sent to me.

Now that all of that is out of the way, let's see the prompts!

Dialogue Prompts

“I love you”

“Please don’t leave me”

“You’re playing with fire, and you’re about to get burned”

“Promise to never let me go”

“I thought you loved me”

“You like this?”

“I’m so lucky to have you”

“Don’t go to work please, just today”

“I miss you”

“Is this close enough for you?”

“You’re intoxicating, you know that, right?”

“Behave, won’t you?”

“It’s like you’ve forgotten about me”

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me”

“Is it someone else?”

“Please come to bed”

“I thought we had something real”

“Hands to yourself”

“I’ve got you”

“I guess you’re not the person I thought you were”

“You’re a forbidden fruit. And I’m tempted to take a bite.”

“We’re not meant for each other” / “I don’t care, I love you”

“In your arms, I have found my home”

“You light up even the darkest of days”

“You look stunning” / “You don’t look so bad yourself”

“I crave your every touch,” / “Lucky for you, I live to indulge your every want”

“You left me” / “I was protecting you” / “You LEFT me”

“Do you trust me?” / “Always”

“You promised to always hold on, and yet you let go”

Scenario Prompt

a) Kiss on the lips

b) Kiss on the cheek

c) Kiss on the forehead

d) Cuddling (by the fire, or somewhere else, you choose!)

e) Dancing

f) Day at the park

g) Stargazing

h) Cleaning up wounds

i) Bathing together

j) Day off

k) Lazy morning sex

l) Late night sex

m) Domestic bliss

n) Pregnancy

o) Aftercare

p) Make out session

q) Day off

r) Protecting you

s) Comforting you

t) Break up

u) Make up

v) Hugging after not seeing them for a long time

w) Watching the sunset

x) Sparring / fighting

And that's it! I hope you guys have fun with it, and send in some requests! I look forward to see what kind of things you guys come up with, and I can't wait to write them out!

Have a wonderful day ahead, and once more, thank you for all the love and support!

#miguel o'hara x reader #kento nanami x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bale!bruce wayne #miguel o'hara fanfiction #nanami kento fanfiction

23 notes · View notes

cchickki · 6 months

Text

My Fanfic Masterlist

My fanfics through the years from both ao3 and fanfiction.net

thinking about opening requests for some one shots soon! i also have more ideas for some shorter fics, but i want to try and catch up on what i'm already working on first

complete - story is finished

in progress - story is among my wips/currently being worked on

incomplete - not sure if i'll ever finish this story

Image credits for headers: (x) (x) (x) (x) (x)

Thank you all for the support <3

Spiderverse / Marvel

HBO War / Band of Brothers

Uncharted (video game series)

Mass Effect

Beyond the Deep - Kaidan Alenko x (Custom) Fem Shep ao3 | ff.net | chapters: 11/? | rating: M | status: in progress

More Stories (misc)

Movies

Serenity - Shu Lien x Mu Bai (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon) ao3 | ff.net | chapters: 1/1 | rating: G/K | status: complete

Video Games

Television Shows

#fanfiction #fanfiction masterlist #spiderverse #band of brothers #uncharted #mass effect #hbo war #long post #x reader #x oc #my fanfic

19 notes · View notes

rainydaygt · 11 months

Text

two vampire show their teef

//click for better quality//

#g/t #giant/tiny #tiny #giant #giant tiny #art from the river #spi/t verse #spiderverse g/t #miguel o'hara g/t #miguel o'hara

182 notes · View notes

chosocutegf · 2 months

Note

Hello, I hope you are well and healthy, feel free to ignore this request. Please, I could have asked for headcanon or scenario with Miguel O'Hara with fem s/o who is a green goblin in his universe, we always see s/o as a black cat, but hear me out, green goblin S/O, who is much flirty and almost his mortal (lover)enemy with intelligence worthy of a genius but a little crazy and a bit unstable, as she was used as a test subject for several cruel experiments. Imagine her floating in that thing that the green goblin uses to fly with her legs crossed, looking at him and waving "HELLO GRUMPY SPIDER!!! YOU THOUGHT I WAS DEAD!?" basically Harley Quinn...but Green Goblin. Sorry if it's too specific, but thanks for your attention and feel free to change anything in the request.

HIII!! ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

I was W A I T I N G for a Miguel request and here you are!!

I could really visualise this scenario when i read your request. and i’m thinking about making it kinda angst since you mentioned lover… SO EXCITED.

it probably will take me some days to write it since i would like to write a fic for it, but i’ll do it!!

#.gg answers ᯓ★#miguel 2099 #miguel o’hara #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara x reader

11 notes · View notes

jedijesi · 2 months

Text

Caught in the Cat's Web Chapter 16

Felicia Hardy! Reader x Miguel O'Hara

Previous Chapter 🕸 Series Masterlist

Warnings: Smut, Angst

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Miguel and Felicia return to the Spider Society to find their reputations have been destroyed.

Co-Author: @stclairesplace

A/N: I can't wait to hear your theories!

New York, Earth-192

Watching Miguel pack his belongings to return to Nueva York was surprisingly difficult for Felicia. Over the past week, amidst the stress and the uncertainty of discovering who was trying to assassinate Miguel, there had been countless moments of happiness. The simple joy of being able to sleep in without the weight of responsibility, the romantic dates, the leisurely walks around the city — all of it had reignited her love for the city and its people. New York had become more than just a place she just happened to live and work in, it was a place where they had shared their lives together.

The inevitability of Miguel's departure tugged at Felicia's heart, but as the saying goes, nothing good lasts forever.

"Ready?" Felicia asked with a forced enthusiasm.

"I think so," Miguel replied softly, closing his suitcase before walking over to where Felicia sat on the edge of the bed.

Without uttering a word, she leaned her head against his abs, in an attempt to hide her disappointment. Miguel could sense her emotions, and he placed a gentle hand on her back while the other caressed her shimmering platinum hair.

"How's your side, today?" Miguel broke the silence, his concern evident in his voice.

Felicia smiled and lifted her shirt to reveal the healing wound. "Itty bitty scar just like the doctors said." She replied, her tone light. “Don’t worry.”

Miguel knelt before her, his fingers running along the scar with a gentle touch. "I'm glad you're healing well," he said, his voice filled with relief. "But I still get to worry."

Felicia felt her heart swell at his words as Miguel pressed a delicate kiss to her side. His lips were soft and warm against her skin. He looked up at her, eyes filled with admiration. "You're... beautiful," he whispered as he stood, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss.

The kiss deepened, and their unspoken emotions flowed between them. Miguel moans as he leans forward, prompting Felicia to move back to the center of the bed and lay on her back. As Miguel crawls on top of her, he places his knee between her legs, allowing her to grind on his thigh.

Felicia moans as Miguel kisses her neck. “I wanna suck your cock.” She whispers.

Miguel lifts his head from the crook of her neck, gazing into her eyes. “Fuck, Chiquita.” He sighs. “As much as I would love that, I just wanna fuck your pretty little pussy instead.”

With a sly smile, Felicia’s hands move to unzip Miguel's jeans. As she worked on his bottoms, Miguel threw his sweater across the room and hastily undressed the needy woman below him. Once they were naked, they wasted no time. Miguel takes his cock and uses the head to play with Felicia’s clit before slowly thrusting into her entrance.

“Ah!” Felicia winces as adjusts to his large size.

“I know, baby girl, you’re taking me so good, though.” Miguel leans down pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. “Just tell me when you’re ready.”

After a moment, Felicia wraps her arms and legs around Miguel. “I can take it, baby.”

Miguel's hips begin to move, pumping in and out of her. “Oh, god, you feel so fucking good!” He grunts, feeling her pussy squeezing around him. “Moan for me, baby, let me hear you.”

Felicia’s moans mix with his, encouraging him to go faster. “Use me, Mig!” She screams as the head of his cock slams into her G-spot.

“Ungh! Fuck!” Miguel moans as she gets tighter. “Ah! T-tell me how much you love it! Tell me how much you love getting pounded like my little slut with this fat fucking cock inside of you!” Miguel growls into her ear.

His words send shivers down her spine. “I l-love it, Miguel! I love your cock- ah!” Felicia’s nails dig into his back as Miguel props his leg up, getting a deeper angle.

“Is it too big, baby?” Miguel coos as he pounds into her soaked pussy. “Too much?”

She throws her head back into the bed, screaming his name. “Ah-ah oh fuck, baby, I’m gonna cum!”

“No!” Miguel groans. “You’re gonna fucking wait,” Felicia whines as she struggles to hold her orgasm. “You’re not cuming til I say so, understand?” She nods her head, biting her lips as she tried to focus on not cumming. “Good girl.” He coos.

Miguel moaned at the feeling of Felicia’s arousal dripping from his balls and destroying the bed beneath them. He loved it. He loved knowing how she was all his, how he was the only one who could make her feel this good.

“Take it- take it all, baby,” Miguel grunts, his hands gripping her as he fucks into her. “You like it when your wet needy pussy slaps against my hips like that?”

“Ah! Yes- Yes! Fuck, I’m so close!” Felicia cried.

Miguel smirks as he looks down at the woman writhing under him. “Oh, fuck! You desperate for it, look at you.” His movements become purely animalistic, fucking her as if his life depended on it. “You need it. You need my cock stretching out that tight little pussy of yours, huh?”

As Felicia gets even closer to her orgasm, she crawls into Miguel’s back, desperate to hold on. “P-please.” She begs.

“Ungh, I’m getting close, baby girl.” Miguel whimpers into her ear. “You’re so good, so good, fuck! This pussy is so fucking good!” His praises fill the room, only making it harder for Felicia to hold on.

“M-Miguel!” Felicia’s nails, now drawing blood and she begs to cum.

“Cum for me.” Her legs shake around his waist. “Cum with me while I bury my load in this soaking pussy!.” He demands.

Simultaneously, the two cum, shouting and moaning each other’s names. As Miguel’s pace slows, the sound of their bodies clapping together becomes replaced by their heavy pants.

“You're so incredible.” Felicia sighs, pressing a kiss to Miguel’s temple.

“Fuck, baby, you’re-”

The sudden sound of clapping scares Miguel and Felicia, prompting them to turn to the noise.

“Aww! That was so cute!” LYLA says as she flickers in the corner of the bedroom.

“LYLA!” Miguel shouts, chucking a pillow at her.

“What?” She asks innocently.

“God, fucking damnit, LYLA,” Miguel grumbles as he pulls out of Felicia and tosses a blanket over them for modesty. “I told you not to interrupt us when we’re having sex!”

LYLA’s eyes roll behind the heart-shaped glasses. “I know! I didn’t interrupt! I waited very patiently.”

Felicia cocks her head to the side. “Wait… How long have you been waiting?”

LYLA flickers closer to the lovers, pulling out a timer. “Well, I arrived when you two were making out, and since Miguel always says ‘Don’t interrupt when we're making out’” She says in her best impression. “I waited… and then your clothes started to come off which meant you were starting sex. And Miguel always says ‘I told you not to interrupt us when we're having sex!’” She repeats. “I waited till it was over.” LYLA smiles holding up a timer that has stopped just after the 11-minute mark.

Felicia and Miguel’s jaws drop as they realize how long the AI has been watching them. “That’s kind of fucking creepy, LYLA,” Felicia speaks up.

“Well, geez I’m sorry for being a good assistant-”

“LYLA!!!” Miguel yells

“What?!” LYLA screams back.

Felicia, not wanting Miguel to explode on LYLA, holds Miguel back by the shoulders and pulls him back onto the bed.

“LYLA let’s make a deal honey. Any time you need Miguel for anything you send him a ping to his watch, and if Miguel and I are about to um”

“Have the sex!” LYLA finishes enthusiastically.

“Right have the sex then we’ll send you a message not to disturb us AT ALL. Sound good?”

LYLA's response seemed somewhat indifferent, but she agreed to their request. "Alright, whatever," she replied, appeasing the couple. "Are you ready to go? You asked me to set a meeting with your team for 9:30, and they've been waiting for you for the past five minutes."

Miguel let out a frustrated sigh, realizing he had forgotten about the scheduled meeting. "Damn it," he muttered. "Alright, give me five minutes." LYLA nodded and then dissipated, leaving the young couple to prepare for the impending meeting.

As Miguel and Felicia quickly got dressed in their respective suits, they exchanged kisses every few seconds, trying to savor these moments of peace before they had to return to the reality of hiding their relationship from the rest of the world. Their kisses were a bittersweet reminder of the love they shared, but the need for secrecy weighed heavy on their hearts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nueva York, Earth 928

After parting ways, Miguel headed to his meeting and Felicia made her way to the lab to see her friends, Felicia felt a strange sensation as she walked through the hallways. It was as if a multitude of eyes were fixed upon her, and the weight of that attention made her steps feel heavier than usual. With every stride she took, it seemed like curious gazes were following her every move.

Upon entering the lab, the effect became more pronounced. Heads swiveled in unison to focus on her as she walked in. The masks of her peers and friends focused on her instead of the tech they were working on.

Felicia couldn't help but wonder if her secret relationship with Miguel had somehow leaked, or if something else was afoot. The intensity of the stares and the palpable tension in the room left her feeling both uneasy and intrigued, wondering what had caused this sudden shift in the atmosphere.

“Hardy!” Margo waved her over.

Felicia felt her confusion deepen as she approached Margo to find her laughing. Her friend's laughter only added to the mystery, and it wasn't long before Felicia felt a pang of anxiety bubbling within her. “You sneaky bitch.” She giggled. Before she could inquire further, Margo gestured for other colleagues to gather around, and they, too, seemed to share in her friend's amusement.

Felicia's bewildered expression only deepened, and she couldn't help but ask, "What is going on?" Her gaze darted around the room, searching for any hints as to why she had become the center of attention.

Suddenly, the lab doors swung open, and a group of Spider-People burst into the room, heading straight for Felicia. Julia, Ben, Peter Parked-car, Spider-Cat, and Malala Windsor approached her with excitement in their eyes, demanding to know more. Their enthusiasm left her even more puzzled. "Tell us everything!" Julia exclaimed, and the urgency in her voice only added to the growing sense of intrigue.

Felicia couldn't help but laugh nervously, attempting to hide the rising panic within her. "Tell you what?" she inquired, her tone light and playful, but her mind racing to figure out how to address this situation.

Julia's giggles only served to deepen her anxiety. "Peter, your Peter, told us you had a boyfriend!" she exclaimed. Felicia's smile began to waver, and her heart pounded in her chest.

Her denial, however, was met with resolute certainty from Margo. "Web-Slinger already confirmed it, girl, don't deny it!" she chimed in.

The situation was spiraling beyond Felicia's control, and now Ben added to her disarray with his laughter and a reference to Miguel. "Miguel's gonna kill you!" he teased. Felicia felt like she was trapped in a spider's web of her own making, and there was no easy escape. “He almost lost his shit when we caught you two fucking!” This caused the group of heroes to gasp with intrigue.

Felicia wanted to scream with fury. “No, No, there’s a misunderstanding!”

“It’s okay to be a little slutty.” Julia rubs her back. “I don’t blame you for leaving Peter for Web-Slinger, I mean.. he’s pretty fucking hot!”

“I’m not dating anyone!” Felicia's shout broke through the laughter, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears. The conviction that Peter's words had sown in her friends was not something easily undone, and she could sense that the more she protested, the more they believed in her supposed relationship. As the laughter and playful teasing continued, Felicia gave up and stormed out of the lab.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The tension in the room was palpable, and the weight of responsibility bore down on Miguel. The Spider-People assembled around the table wore their masks and suits, their eyes filled with a mix of concern and frustration.

The atmosphere grew more charged as one of the Spider-Men, his suit slightly torn from the recent battle, stood up and voiced the concerns that had been swirling in the room. "This was the second attack!" His voice carried the frustration of the group. "As our leader, what are you doing? Running?"

Several heads around the table nodded in agreement with the outspoken Spider-Man. They had been facing increased threats, and Miguel's recent absence raised doubts and worries about his commitment to their cause.

Standing up with resolve, Jessica moved to defend Miguel. Her voice was unwavering, and her eyes displayed her staunch support for their leader. "This last attack was an attempted assassination," she declared. "We should all understand the gravity of this situation."

"I didn't leave to run away," Miguel asserted, standing at the head of the table. "I left to ensure the safety of the Spider Society. We're facing threats we've never seen before. I made that decision to protect all of you, not just myself. Night-Spider was targeted because of his association with me, and I'm taking every measure to make sure it doesn't happen again."

“And yet, Night-Spider almost died.” Web-Slinger adds, his tone laced with anger.

The room was filled with tense silence as the Spider-People around the table exchanged glances. The air was heavy with accusation and doubt, and the accusations against their leader weighed heavily on their minds.

Miguel could feel the pressure, his position as leader questioned by the very people he had dedicated himself to. He knew the gravity of the situation and the weight of the responsibility he held. Taking a deep breath, he stood up, his voice steady but tinged with frustration.

Web-Slinger, clearly frustrated, leaned forward, his gaze fixed on Miguel. "You can't just disappear without communication. We're a team, Miguel."

"I know," Miguel admitted. "And I'll make sure to keep you all in the loop moving forward. But we can't afford to turn against each other."

“As much as I’d like to take a shit on this establishment, Miguel isn’t the one to blame.” Hobie Brown adds from the corner of the room.

Miguel was happily surprised by the random support from the Spider-Punk, giving him a nod in thanks.

"He is!" May Reiley declared, her tone resolute as she pointed an accusatory finger at Miguel. "You are no leader, O'Hara!"

Miguel clenched his jaw, knowing that he needed to allow their grievances to be heard, even if they were difficult to bear.

"Our technology is being stolen and used against us!" Lady Spider continued, her voice filled with anger and frustration. "So, please, run away and take more Enrapture so you can pretend to be one of us."

Miguel remained silent, his jaw tight, as he let her words hang in the air. The room was divided, with many Spider-People sharing May's concerns while others stood with their leader. The accusations stung, but he understood that they needed to express their frustrations and fears. Miguel was determined to address their issues and rebuild the trust that had been shaken.

Miguel clenched his fists behind his back, the criticism from May Reiley hitting a nerve. Her words were harsh, but she wasn't alone in her doubts about his leadership. The frustration among the Spider-People was palpable, and he had to address their concerns head-on.

May Reiley's accusation lingered in the room, but Miguel remained composed. He understood the gravity of the situation, and he couldn't afford to let emotions cloud his judgment. Rising to his feet, he addressed the room.

"I hear your concerns," Miguel began, his voice firm but measured. "May Reiley, I appreciate your honesty. I understand that our technology is being used against us. And that's precisely why I left – to confront the threats and ensure the safety of the Spider Society."

The tension in the room remained, and Miguel could sense that this situation wasn't resolved, not by a long shot. The Spider-People exchanged uneasy glances, their faith in their leader shaken, but the meeting ended with an understanding that they needed to find a solution together, even if trust had been eroded.

Miguel's gaze swept across the room, lingering on the faces of his fellow Spider-People. Their silence was almost deafening, each individual holding their thoughts close, unsure of how to proceed. He could sense the weight of their doubts and concerns hanging heavily in the air.

"Would anyone else like to voice their opinions?" Miguel inquired, his voice carrying a sense of resignation. He had opened the floor for discussion, but it seemed no one was willing to step forward.

A heavy silence blanketed the room for a few moments, amplifying the tension that had settled among the Spider-People. Miguel's disappointment was evident, but he understood that these were difficult times, and his leadership was being questioned.

"I guess that's it," he said, letting out a sigh. He couldn't force them to speak, and he didn't want to further press the issue for now. "LYLA has new leads on Earth-1048. She will give you all your assignments."

With those final words, Miguel walked out of the conference room. The room remained hushed, the Spider-People left to process the complex situation and their doubts about their leader.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Felicia perched atop the Spider Society Headquarters, a vantage point from which she observed the flurry of flying cars zipping by in a blur. Her thoughts were locked in a tumultuous whirlwind, attempting to make sense of the situation. She couldn't fathom why Peter would have spread such a rumor, or why Patrick, someone she had thought she could trust, had confirmed it.

As she contemplated the intricacies of this mess, Felicia sensed a presence approaching, and the familiar tingle of her heightened senses drew her attention. "Hey, darlin'," a warm voice broke through her reverie.

With a weary sigh, Felicia turned to acknowledge Web-Slinger, who had approached her. "Hey, Patrick," she greeted him.

“Whatcha doin’ up here all by your lonesome?” He smiles softly, moving to sit next to her.

“Why’d you tell everyone we're together?” She cuts to the chase.

Web-Slinger let out a deep, exasperated sigh, his gloved fingers carefully pulling down his mask to reveal a pair of earnest eyes that met Felicia's hurt gaze. "Peter was spreading rumors," he began with a heavy tone, "calling you names I don't even want to repeat. It took less than a day for your reputation to be tarnished, with you labeled as a cheater and a slut." Another sigh escaped him, laden with remorse. "So, I... I said you were seeing me, and only me.”

Patrick reached out, gently taking Felicia's hands into his own, his gaze never wavering from her eyes as if he were trying to convey the depth of his sincerity and the extent to which he cared. “We did see each other for a minute,” He justifies. “And I really do… care about you. If it were up to me, I’d be honored to sweep you off of your feet.”

Felicia nods. “Well.. thank you.” Yet she can’t help but continue to feel a sense of betrayal.

“What- what’s going on with you?” He asks, his thumb brushing over knuckles soothingly. “Your Peter is running around spreading rumors about you, and O’Hara almost got you killed.”

She lazily shrugs, “I don’t fucking know anymore.”

Web-Slinger tightened his grip on her hands, his concern evident in his eyes. "I know this is a lot to take in, Felicia, but I want you to know that I'm here for you. We can get through this mess together, and I'll do whatever it takes to help you clear your name."

Felicia appreciated his support, but she couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal entirely. "I just can't believe Peter would do this," she mumbled, her voice laced with frustration. "We've been through so much together, and now he's out there trying to ruin my reputation. It’s hard enough trying to fit into this stupid Spider Society."

Patrick nodded, understanding her pain. "People change, Felicia, and sometimes not for the best. But you have me."

Felicia returned her gaze to the flying cars that zipped through the sky in a never-ending dance of light and motion. The symphony of horns, sirens, and distant chatter of the city's denizens created a chaotic yet strangely soothing background.

“I should get going.” She says, moving to stand from the ledge of the building.

Before Felicia steps off to swing to the levels below, Patrick speaks up, “I care ‘bout you, Felicia… I really do.”

Felicia looked over her shoulder, her gaze met Patrick's gentle eyes, and for a brief moment, their eyes transcended the chaos around them. She offered him a soft, appreciative smile. Without another word, she gracefully leaped off the roof and swung away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jessica walks in and leans against the doorway, her expression filled with concern as she watches Miguel absorbed in his work. "Miguel," she speaks his name again, capturing the brooding Spider-Man's attention as he studies the screens in his office.

Reluctantly, he turns away from the screens to acknowledge the Spider-Woman, his tone carrying a hint of annoyance. "Yes?" he huffs.

She shifts her weight and uncrosses her arms, her brow furrowing as she regards him. "Wanna talk about the meeting?" she asks, her voice gentle yet persistent.

Miguel sighs, his attention returning to the monitors. "What about it?" He tries to deflect the conversation, clearly not eager to discuss it.

“They’re turning on you. They struck you where it hurts, calling you a bad leader.”

“Ya well, I’m a big boy I can handle a little criticism-“

“Don’t shut me out Miguel I’m just trying to help.”

“Well, I don’t need it! Not right now” He rubs the temple of his nose in frustration. “You think it’s time?” Jessica’s suggestion surprises Miguel.

“What- No!” He sighs for a moment as he digests the suggestion. “We shouldn’t- can’t! We can’t!”

She frowns, “Be realistic. We need them.”

“Fine. We’ll meet here, in my office, tomorrow at 5. Understand?”

“I’ll get them ready.” She nods.

Miguel frowns as the orange hexagonal portal opens next to Jessica. With a nod to her boss, she walks through leaving him to second guess if this was the right choice.

Chapter 17

Taglist: @leahnicole1219 @oscarissac2099 @www-interludeshadow-com

#jedi jesi #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel o’hara x reader #stclairesplace #miguel ohara x female reader #miguel x reader #felicia hardy #miguel o’hara x felicia hardy #miguel o’hara x felicia hardy reader #spider-man x black cat #miguel o’hara smut #spider man smut #miguel ohara x felicia hardy reader #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara fluff

16 notes · View notes

toschestationserver · 8 months

Text

TOSCHE STATION FIC EXCHANGE CLAIMING

In order to claim, please email [email protected]. First come, first serve. You can also DM us on Twitter over at @toscheserver or you can send us an ask here on Tumblr.

There is one slot for a writer and one for an artist.

Each individual may claim a prompt once. If any prompts remain open when claims have closed you may apply to be a pinch-hitter. Furthermore, you may only take on a second prompt if you've completed the first prompt.

You may begin claiming now. Claims will close at 11:59 PM BST on September 27th.

For a full list of rules, please click here.

We also have a FAQ here.

FULLY CLAIMED

Prompt: Finn teaching Poe how to use a lightsaber

Prompter age: 18+

Rating of fic preferred: General audiences

Comfortable with NSFW content: Yes

I particularly enjoy: Bickering

Deal-breakers: N/A

Claimed by a writer: Yes

Claimed by an artist: YEs

2. Prompt: Post-TROS, Rey sets up a home on the most lush-green planet she has ever seen.

Prompter age: 18+

Rating of fic preferred: Teen and up audiences

Comfortable with NSFW content: No

I particularly enjoy: Fluff! Quaint slice-of-life type stories.

Deal-breakers: Cross-overs with another universe

Claimed by a writer: Yes

Claimed by an artist: No

3. Prompt: First interactions of Mace & Depa/how he became her master

Prompter age: Younger than 18

Rating of fic preferred: General Audiences (G): Suitable for all ages. Contains little to no disturbing, violent or sexual content, and no or mild bad language., Teen and Up Audiences (T): Suitable for those aged 13+.

Comfortable with NSFW content: No

I particularly enjoy: Queers (canon or hc), shatterpoint lineage, high republic, angst

Deal-breakers: One-sided jedi characterization, modern au

Claimed by a writer: No

Claimed by an artist: No

4. Prompt: After an exciting day where Luke was offered by multiple Knights/Masters to be their padawan, Luke has chosen. Luke experiences his first night as Mace Windu's Padawan in the Old Order. (The Jedi Order never fell and Palpatine is just dead for some reason, nobody cares about him)

Prompter age: 18+

Comfortable with NSFW: Yes

I particularly enjoy: Overpowered Luke Skywalker, Master-Padawan Fluff

Deal-breakers: Jedi Bashing, Luke Bashing

Claimed by a writer: No

Claimed by an artist: No

5. Prompt: a character switches to the other side of the conflict they are in (ie. a nihil alles with the republic, an imperial defects to the rebellion, a loyalist becomes a separtist)

Prompter age: 18+

Rating of fic preferred: General audiences

Comfortable with NSFW content: Yes

I particularly enjoy: imperial defectors, mon mothma/tay kolma, the high republic (yes, all of it), anything to do with mon mothma ever

Deal-breakers: i will read literally anything so long as it is tagged properly

Claimed by a writer: No

Claimed by an artist: No

Prompt: Spot has been defeated. Due to extensive multiversal traveling because of cleaning up the last of the Spot’s shenanigans, Miguel O'Hara ends up in the GFFA and meets (Living Legend) Luke Skywalker. Miguel is immediately smitten and feels very hopeful in finally opening up to someone in a romantic interest again, something that Luke also shares 💖💖

Prompter age: 18+

Rating of fic preferred: Mature (M): Suitable for those aged 18+. ..., Explicit (E): Only suitable for adults.

Comfortable with NSFW content: Yes

I particularly enjoy: Miguel being absolutely down bad for Luke, please. Feminine AFAB he/him Luke, if you can 💖💖

Deal-breakers: No gore, No Anti-Jedi bs, No Miguel being unnecessarily mean to Luke or treating him like a “Well, why not?” side chick, and top Miguel/bottom Luke preferable please.

Claimed by a writer: No

Claimed by an artist: No

Prompt: Han and Leia take little Ben to visit his grandparents (Ani n padmé) for the first time, both are a little nervous but everybody has a good time

Prompter age: 18+

Comfortable with NSFW content: Yes

I particularly enjoy: Alternative universe Modern day Au’s but cannonverse is cool too !

Deal-breakers: I’m not sure I have any? Not including Luke? He’s gotta be there too bc family

Claimed by a writer: No

Claimed by an artist: No

8. Prompt: "The stars have never looked so bright." Character views the world in a different (better) way when they embark on a new path.

Prompter age: 18+

Rating of fic preferred: General Audiences (G): Suitable for all ages. Contains little to no disturbing, violent or sexual content, and no or mild bad language.

Comfortable with NSFW: No

I particularly enjoy: Redemption

Deal-breakers: 1. Y/N 2. Whump 3. Excessive violence 4. 1st person

Claimed by a writer: Yes

Claimed by an artist: No

Prompt: Chewbacca takes Han to Kashyyyk to visit what remains of his tribe and family. Shenanagins ensue as Han has to navigate the cultural and social barriers set up as a human among wookiees.

Prompter age: 18+

Comfortable with NSFW: No

I particularly enjoy: Han adopting Chewie's mannerisms and body language as a result of living with him; any references to the Holiday Special (The Bacca household basically just being a '70s house cracks me up)

Deal-breakers: Chewie and other wookiees being treated like animals or pets, Han being written as an overly insensitive asshole, Han bashing in general

Claimed by a writer: No

Claimed by an artist: No

10.

Prompt: Each member of the Ghost crew's new beginnings with the crew... so perhaps flashbacks to Kanan's first mission with Hera, Kanan meeting Zeb, Sabine meeting them, etc...

Prompter age: 18+

Rating of fic preferred: Teen and Up Audiences (T): Suitable for those aged 13+. ...

Comfortable with NSFW: No

I particularly enjoy: soft found family themes, kanan pining for hera, different perspectives

Deal-breakers: anything that has to be tagged with ao3 content warnings

Claimed by a writer: No

Claimed by an artist: No

11. Prompt: Scenes from Anakin and Obi-Wan early on in Anakin's training...Obi-Wan just out of the Trials, his master dead, and a little boy he has to take care of, and Anakin's struggles

Prompter age: 18+

Rating of fic preferred: Teen and Up Audiences (T): Suitable for those aged 13+.

Comfortable with NSFW: No

I particularly enjoy: mentions of Qui-Gon, fluff and light angst, obi wan and anakin being silly

Deal-breakers: NO obikin or lead up to it or anything

Claimed by a writer: No

Claimed by an artist: No

12. FULLY CLAIMED

Prompt: Hera finds Leia alone on Home One in caged-off disquiet in the wake of Alderaan's destruction and the victory over Yavin 4. Family is a sensitive subject for the two of them, but for different reasons too.

Prompter age: 18+

Comfortable with NSFW: No

I particularly enjoy: Leia's connection to her parents and home on Alderaan being contrasted with the strain and disconnect Hera feels for Cham and Ryloth; acknowledgements of Leia's appearance in s2 of SWR

Deal-breakers: Han/Leia being portrayed as a toxic relationship, "Space Mom" being Hera's only defining personality trait, Jacen Syndulla's existence (sorry)

Claimed by a writer: Yes

Claimed by an artist: Yes

13.

Prompt: A brutal ending for a soft beginning

Prompter age: 18+

Comfortable with NSFW: Yes

I particularly enjoy: Angst, can be Hurt/Comfort or No Comfort i prefer Anakin/Vader-centric or Luke-centric

Deal-breakers: If NSFW : Public Sex, Public Humiliation

Claimed by a writer: No

Claimed by an artist: No

14.

Prompt: Sometimes, new beginnings aren't for the best, even when you truly believe that it is

Prompter age: 18+

Comfortable with NSFW: Yes

I particularly enjoy: Angst, can be Hurt/Comfort or No Comfort, prefer Anakin-centric (or Vader-centric) or Luke-centric

Deal-breakers: If NSFW : Public Sex, Public Humiliation

Claimed by a writer: No

Claimed by an artist: No

15.

Prompt: Moving to a new home and starting to bond with the community

Prompter age: 18+

Comfortable with NSFW: Yes

I particularly enjoy: Found family

Deal-breakers: Non con, incest, underage relationships with adult, fantasy racism, homophobia, transphobia

Claimed by a writer: No

Claimed by an artist: No

16.

Prompt: Rey, Rose, Finn and Poe building a life together after the fall of the First Order; can be a (queer-)platonic situation or a ReyRose & FinnPoe one

Prompter age: 18+

Comfortable with NSFW: Yes

I particularly enjoy: (domestic) fluff, hand kisses, Jedi!Finn, found family, trans and/or genderqueer characters, Rey & Finn sibling dynamic, low-stakes action/adventure, mild wlw mlm hostilities

Deal-breakers: all archive warnings, cancer, podfic,

Claimed by a writer: No

Claimed by an artist: No

17.

Prompt: Finn/Poe pivotal relationship moment (e.g., declaration of love, proposal, wedding) in the style of the Elizabeth Swann/Will Turner wedding in Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End (i.e., big relationship milestone in the heat of battle) - movie scene for reference - https://youtu.be/EGE1Y_RwhPA

Prompter age: 18+

Rating of fic preferred: Mature (M): Suitable for those aged 18+. ..., Explicit (E): Only suitable for adults.

Comfortable with NSFW: Yes

I particularly enjoy: angst, SW-universe

Deal-breakers: reylo

Claimed by a writer: No

Claimed by an artist: No

18.

Prompt: Rogue One survives AU. Luke is fascinated by Chirrut and views him as a source of answers to all his questions about the Force. But the wounds of Obi Wan’s death are still fresh, and he’s left with conflicting loyalties between his old teacher and a potential new one.

Prompter age: 18+

Comfortable with NSFW: No

I particularly enjoy: Chirrut/Baze, The exploration of faiths other than the Jedi, Rogue One and the Golden Trio becoming something of a “blended unit”

Deal-breakers: TBH I’m not sure what problems would arise from this aside from Luke maybe being portrayed as too naive. Other than that go nuts

Claimed by a writer: Yes

Claimed by an artist: No

19.

Prompt: Through some Force juju, General Anakin Skywalker and Commander Luke Skywalker switched places during the height of their wars. They now have to lead their new troops to victory, with Luke literally building a new beginning with all that he knows from his era, and Anakin forging a new end. Luke faces everything that was lost to him (the Jedi Order, his mother, a Republic - no matter how flawed), and Anakin faces the monster he becomes.

Prompter age: 18+

Comfortable with NSFW: Yes

I particularly enjoy: Overpowered and highly competent Luke Skywalker, Luke-clones fluff, Luke-Jedi Order fluff, everybody loves Luke Skywalker tbh

Deal-breakers: Anti Jedi rhetoric, Luke bashing, babying Anakin

Claimed by a writer: No

Claimed by an artist: No

20.

Prompt: Han and Luke do some surveying around Echo Base. Trouble is, Luke’s first encounter with ice made the task a bit difficult. Han wished he had a holocam to capture some of his scrambling.

Prompter age: 18+

Comfortable with NSFW: No

I particularly enjoy: Banter. Lots of banter.

Deal-breakers: Skysolo (No hate if you ship, I just really like platonic bonding), treating Luke’s inexperience with other climates as stupidity

Claimed by a writer: Yes

Claimed by an artist: No

21.

Prompt: Luke in the early days of the rebellion

Prompter age: 18+

Rating of fic preferred: Teen and Up Audiences (T): Suitable for those aged 13+. ...

Comfortable with NSFW: No

I particularly enjoy: Aunt Beru <3, Han and Luke (as friends), OT trio hurt & comfort, Luke and Biggs (as friends)

Deal-breakers: People acting like Owen Lars was a good father figure and minimising the fact he was abusive, people acting like Luke was a perfect guy, but also I hate Luke bashing. Nuance please!

Claimed by a writer: No

Claimed by an artist: No

22.

Prompt: Luke trying to be a teacher for the first time despite not having had a model teacher himself (Owen was an abusive ass, Ben died soon after they left Tatooine, and ESB Yoda was ESB Yoda.) Particularly his relationship with Ben Solo.

Prompter age: 18+

Rating of fic preferred: Teen and up

Comfortable with NSFW: Yes

I particularly enjoy: Angst, Han and Luke (as friends), OT trio hurt & comfort

Deal-breakers: People acting like Owen Lars was a good father figure and minimising the fact he was abusive, people acting like Luke was a perfect guy but also I hate Luke bashing. Nuance please!

Claimed by a writer: No

Claimed by an artist: No

NSFW PROMPTS BELOW THE CUT OFF POINT - DO NOT SCROLL DOWN IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO SEE NSFW PROMPTS

NSFW PROMPTS

23. Prompt: Former Senior Padawan Luke (Trans/Genderqueer) is pregnant and has to adjust to a new life outside of the Jedi Order after he left his training. He decided to have his child in Naboo with his family, the Naberries. He's adamant not to reveal the father of his child (your choice how to resolve or why - either it was complicated or it was a Mamma Mia AU and he doesn't know who the father is among Boba, Din, and Paz lol)

Prompter age: 18+

Rating of fic preferred: Mature (M): Suitable for those aged 18+. ..., Explicit (E): Only suitable for adults.

Comfortable with NSFW: Yes

I particularly enjoy: Dinluke/Bobaluke/Pazluke or Luke Harem, Humor, Breeding Kink, Smart and Competent Luke, Besotted Mandalorian lover, marriage proposals

Deal-breakers: Jedi/Luke Bashing, OOC Luke (you know), Bottom Mandalorian/Top Luke, Bobadin/BobaPaz/Pazdin

Claimed by a writer: No

Claimed by an artist: No

24. Prompt: Din Djarin and his son Grogu (human or alien) is on the run from a dark past and bad guys. They seek sanctuary from (Trans/Genderqueer) Jedi Luke Skywalker who keeps them safe and gives them a new life in his Temple. Din and Luke quickly realize they have an undeniable attraction to each other and acts on it, but Din wants more than just a casual relationship.

Prompter age: 18+

Rating of fic preferred: Mature (M): Suitable for those aged 18+. ..., Explicit (E): Only suitable for adults.

Comfortable with NSFW: Yes

I particularly enjoy: Mommy Luke, Besotted Din Djarin, Overpowered Luke Skywalker, Dirty Smut lol go ham!!

Deal-breakers: Bobadin, Bottom Din/Top Luke, Thinking Love equals Attachment, Jedi/Luke Bashing

Claimed by a writer: No

Claimed by an artist: No

25. Prompt: Boba Fett and Trans/Genderqueer Luke Skywalker (or Luke Fett ?) prepare for their first baby. Boba is an excited father-to-be. (Can be AU.)

Prompter age: 18+

Rating of fic preferred: Mature (M): Suitable for those aged 18+. Explicit (E): Only suitable for adults.

Comfortable with NSFW content: Yes

I particularly enjoy: Obsessive/Besotted Boba Fett, breeding kink, Trans pregnancy, Mommy Luke

Deal-breakers: Anti Jedi Writer/Jedi Bashing (in-character sentiments are understandable to an extent- seeing it's Boba), Bobadin, Bottom Boba/Top Luke, Luke Bashing

Claimed by a writer: No

Claimed by an artist: No

26.

Prompt: the clones after the war in a no Order 66 AU suddenly finding themselves at the beginning of the rest of their lives; I love all clones (including the Bad Batch), take your pick; clone ships I like are Codywan, Rexwalker/Rexanidala, Quinfox

Prompter age: 18+

Comfortable with NSFW: Yes

I particularly enjoy: (domestic) fluff, found family, trans and/or genderqueer characters (including genderfluid/non-binary/etc.!!), clones accidentally acquiring pets, sweet gentle (and maybe a bit kinky) lovemaking

Deal-breakers: all archive warnings, cancer, x reader or x oc ships, podfic

Claimed by a writer: No

Claimed by an artist: No

#fic exchange #tosche station: new beginnings

8 notes · View notes

sophiegoose · 9 months

Text

Sizeshifter!Miguel Character Notes

Making good on my promise to post some of my Spiderverse G/t stuff in the tag, here's the first bit of stuff I'll be sharing: some character/lore notes for my Sizeshifter!Miguel.

This is the concept I've workshopped the least out of all my Spiderverse G/t so far, so for now it's basically a collection of character notes instead of a full profile/storyline as of yet, but I hope it's still a fun read. Enjoy, my fellow size difference enjoyers.

Name: Miguel O'Hara ("Teyo" or "Tabor" at work)

Age: 31

Height: variable, hovers somewhere between 5 feet and 7 feet tall, usually

-Comes from a universe where Miguel got sizeshifting powers instead of spider powers

-Was a physicist instead of a geneticist

-An experiment went haywire, resulting in him getting catapulted out of his multiverse and through several others, resulting in the laws of physics not quite working right for him again when he returned to his home dimension

-He'd been massively quantum-displaced, gaining the power to mass shift whilst ignoring the square-cube law, able to grow and shrink in size without limit without biological consequence

-Unfortunately, his accident did not give him CONSCIOUS control of his powers, them instead being controlled unconsciously, fluctuating alongside his emotional and mental state

-Particularly stimulating emotions like anger, fear, panic, or happiness cause him to grow, while sedating emotions such as sadness, despair, and exhaustion cause him to shrink

-Given his highly stressful work life and deep-rooted depression, Miguel had to quickly come up with a solution to control his powers and prevent them from hurting himself or others

-Working alongside his universe's Lyla, he was able to craft a wearable device to help keep his powers in-check

-It appears to be thick black steel choker necklace, but is actually a highly complex device: it has an on-board heart rate monitor, direct hook-ups to Miguel's nervous system, and microneedles for injecting substances to keep him regulated

-When his heart rate or mental state dip too low, the device injects a small dose of modified (non-addictive) Rapture to bring him back to baseline, and when his heart rate increases too much or his mental state starts to get too stimulated, it injects him with a small dose of tranquilizer

-While it works quite well for him, the fact that he has to wear the device and be drugged at all times just to keep his powers vaguely under control doesn't do great things for his mental health. He often refers to the device derisively as his "collar," and is not fond of people pointing it out

-His collar regularly needs to be refilled with drugs and repaired, and these times when it's off/not at full functioning strength are extremely stressful to him, usually manifesting in many small, rapid fluctuations in height, which sometimes comes with nausea

-In general, he views his powers as a curse, and is always looking for new technology to help him better control them

-Works at Spider Society HQ as a engineer and repair man, often working alongside regular Miguel on tech projects and building maintenance

-He was recruited to the Spider Society by accident: his quantum shift resulted in him being mistaken for a Miguel in a nearby dimension to his who had spider powers, but with regular Miguel's permission he joined the Spider Society anyway and helps out around HQ. He also (very rarely) goes on missions, mostly when his specific skillset is needed

-He joined the Spider Society due to believing in regular Miguel's rhetoric about canon events and stabilizing the multiverse...but also out of curiosity towards other timespace-displaced individuals, as well as wanting to snoop on Earth-928's technology to look for further means of controlling his powers

-This Miguel is much lankier and not nearly as jacked as regular Miguel, and has longer, curlier hair. He sometimes pulls his hair back into a short ponytail, and he has ice-blue, almost silver eyes.

-Wears circular, orange-tinted glasses, not for his eyesight but for light-blocking purposes, since he's staring at holoscreens all day at work. The lenses are also specially-treated to act as eye protection when he's welding

-Generally wears casual clothes. Can usually been seen in baggy cargo pants and a slightly-oversized long-sleeve grey shirt, both of which are usually smeared in stains from oil and rust and full of small cuts and holes from getting caught on machinery. Occasionally wears a somewhat oversized, futuristic-looking grey coat, which seems to be a favorite of his

-Goes by a nickname (usually Teyo or Tabor) when he's at HQ to prevent him being mixed up with regular Miguel, since they have very similar voices and personalities and work on similar projects

-Does NOT like being compared to his alternate, as he finds him abrasive and thinks he's too full of himself. The feeling is mutual

-It's not uncommon to hear the two of them arguing as they work on the same piece of broken machinery, yelling over eacother in technobabble, trying to prove the other one wrong...thankfully, the work still gets done

-He's usually very reserved, not letting much emotion or opinion bleed through when he speaks, trying to regulate himself emotionally as much as he can...but push him too much and you'll quickly find out that he has the same sassiness that normal Miguel has, and isn't afraid unleash his some very cutting insults when given the chance

-On the other hand, he also has a much softer side that he rarely shows

-While definitely not an active superhero, Miguel has used his powers on occasion in his home dimension to help people. He has a disguise he wears when doing so that hides his face, keeping his identity a secret

-Over time, he's slowly gained some control over his powers. He can maintain certain heights and slow his size shifts with focus and lack of outside stimuli, which he'll occasionally use at work (shrinking to reach a particularly difficult circuit that needs a repair, growing to move or shift something big or heavy, etc.), but doing so is very physically and mentally taxing and can leave him burnt out afterwards

-That being said, he's very sheepish about his powers and tries not to use them in the presence of others often, partially because he's concerned he'll hurt someone, and partially because he's embarrassed that he has so little control over his powers compared to all the other people around HQ. Everyone else seems to have this superhero business figured out but him, and that fact gets to him a bit

-Knows Spanish, English, and Hebrew, with English as his third language. Sometimes struggles to fully express what he wants to say in English, can get a bit wordy/often comes off as overly formal. MUCH less so in his other two languages

-Has some sensory issues, mostly revolving around texture and touch. Enjoys fluffy and soft textures, and as such his office and his home are full of soft, squishy, and fluffy things for him to hold and rest against

-Catch him turning his collar off after a long, crappy day at work and shrinking down to flop on top of a particularly soft plushie in the big pile of them he has in his room

-Alternatively, big, annoyed Miguel shoving his head down onto his bed and pile of plushies and screaming into it like it's one big pillow as he fills the room

-Has a fondness for techno and trance music, often blasting it loudly when he's working on something to help him focus. Follow what sounds like a rave happening at HQ and you'll probably find him working on something, somewhere

-It's unknown what the current status of his family is. No one is sure whether he has a daughter, a spouse, siblings, anything, not even regular Miguel. He doesn't talk about them much, for some reason

-Will only remove/deactivate/turn down the power on his collar around people he trusts and loves. If he does any of these things around you consider it a high compliment

-When having a particularly bad day he'll let folks he trusts carry him around when he's small. So far it seems only regular Miguel, Jessica Drew, Ben Reilly and a few others Spiderfolk around HQ have earned the privilege

-Alternatively, it's not common to see him big at HQ, but there's been a few times when an Anomaly has gotten loose and wrecked something he was working on, and his temper got the better of him. There's still a massive hole between floors 35 and 38 when he punched a particularly frustrating Anomaly through the floor, no one talks to him about it to his face

-VERY nervous about holding and handling people when he's big, tried not to manhandle people when he can avoid it but sometimes it's necessary to save someone and he's honestly a bit of a nervous wreck the whole time (usually resulting in him inching even taller due to the stress, which only makes it worse)

-His Lyla is different than regular Miguel's: she appears as a thin brunette in a fancy black party dress, usually lounging on a chaise longue or similar, appearing very posh and dramatic. She's very sassy and sometimes downright cruel, not particularly caring whose feelings she hurts, but is also an incredibly useful encyclopedia of data on physics, metaphysics, engineering, and biology, which Miguel often leans on for filling in gaps in his knowledgebase. While the other A.I.s and Spiderfolk around HQ aren't too fond of her, Miguel is very grateful for her existence and is somewhat protective of her, a feeling that's mutual. She's protective of him, advocates for him when his powers go particularly haywire, and is the first to reach out for help on his behalf when he needs it. Her holographic light/colorscheme is a light blue, in contrast to regular Lyla's orange

-When he takes off his glasses he's either about to throw hands or cry, proceed at your own risk if you decide to stay and find out which it is

#goosechatter #sizeshifter!miguel #spiderverse g/t #miguel ohara #g/t #sfw g/t #sfw giant/tiny #giant tiny #giant/tiny #his appearance and mannerisms are somewhat based on early movie miguel concept art #still working on what storylines i think he could work in #and what his disguise for his superhero work looks like #thinking something robotic and black/green looking #also taking inspiration from some of his early concept art #he's a big/small nervous man treat him gently plz

17 notes · View notes